Nympho (11 page)

By the time Rico and I covered most of
Naptown
, as the locals call it, he took me to an isolated section of the city near a waterfront area. Frederick Douglass' house was located in a neighborhood that was the first black township called Highland Beach. Just when I thought my history lesson had ended, it had just begun.

“Now that I've filled up your mind with many wonders, it's time to relax your soul. Doesn't that sound good right about now?” Rico asked.

Darkness covered the sky and Rico found a quiet spot on a beach that poured into the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay. At first we sat at a weather beaten picnic table, enjoying the cool breeze and splashing of the gentle waves. As I inhaled the fresh air, I closed my eyes and longed for my heart to feel the way it did at that moment, every day. Forgetting that Rico wasn't Trey, I put my head in his lap and looked up at the stars while lying on my back. Rico brushed my hair away from my face then told me to get up.

He led me to a corner of the beach that was populated with more trees and felt a bit more intimate. I felt Rico's hard dick as I sat in between his legs on the wet sand. After whispering a lot of sensual things in my ear, Rico suddenly switched positions. He pushed me back and leaned over top of me as he began delivering light kisses to my skin under the moonlight. I felt cool and hot at the same time. Rico unfastened my shorts and gently pressed his lips on my stomach. He lay on top of me, kissing me, and holding my arms back in the sand.

“Oh, Leslie. Baby, you're turning me on. Oh, mami,” he mumbled between kisses.

Rico was turning me on too. The wetness began to flow between my legs and I found myself wanting to do something about it. The next thing I knew, I was kneeling in the sand, removing my breasts from my bra, and fondling them with my eyes closed. Rico kissed my back, making my nipples hard and causing dampness to drip between my thighs. At that moment, I could've sworn time stood still and the world stopped turning. The passion that I longed to possess pulled me in, and I didn't want it to let me go. Once again, Innocence had conquered Leslie and every inhibition the conservative part of me would've had for living out an erotic scene in public vanished. Innocence was proud of her body, her sexuality, and her ability to let go and enjoy the sensual side of nature.

A quiet storm began. The rain felt soft and warm. Rico and I were intertwined in a passionate embrace when a light drizzle turned into a steady flow of a summer rain. The sand was our mattress as the waves continued to crash. Although my hair was wet and we were a soggy mess, I didn't want the romantic scene to end.

“Venga,” Rico said. “Come—follow me.” Rico led me to a pier. A man and a woman were sitting on a large boat. “Watch your step,” he told me as I stepped on the boat. “This is my boy, Melvin, and this is his lady friend, Camille,” he said.

Without thinking twice about what I was doing, I shook their hands and sat down. The men disappeared into the belly of the boat and left Camille and I no choice but to find something to talk about. About ten minutes later, music started playing, and the boat began to move. Rico returned with a drink and kissed me on the forehead.

“You're safe with me. Don't worry. You'll have fun,” he said. “Why don't you let me show you where you can change your clothes—you're soaked. Put on your bathing suit and enjoy the ride.”

Rico directed me to a small bathroom, and I took his advice. When I returned, he was shirtless and dressed in a fresh pair of shorts. Camille was swaying from side to side, singing to the old reggae standard,
Telephone Love
. I believe the drink she slurped and joint she was puffing on had something to do with her limber shoulders and waist grinding. After the song ended, she disappeared, heading toward her man, no doubt. Rico disappeared and returned with a joint and a drink, too.

“Which one do you want? Rules of the boat are everyone gets crunk.”

I was surprised a lawyer indulged in the sorts of habits that could lead to being disbarred, but I didn't care. “I'll take the drink,” I said, grinning.

“That's the spirit, mami,” Rico replied, taking a drag of the cigarette.

I noticed the boat stopped moving. I guess the liquor and smoke went to my head because I suddenly began to fantasize about putting my heels back on and deep throating Rico as we rode on the Chesapeake Bay.

“You scratch my back and I'll scratch yours,” he whispered in my ear. He threw the cigarette in the water. “I guess now is a good time to tell you that we're stuck. I can't ride my bike in the rain anyway. My boy is too fucked up to drive this thing. If you don't believe me, go check. He and Camille are loaded. Plus, it's still drizzling. Now what?”

I knew Rico set the whole thing up but I was having too good of a time to care about his manipulative streak.

“You scratch my back and I'll scratch yours, Leslie,” he repeated, leading me to a small area in the bottom of the boat.

To my surprise, Rico pulled out something that looked like a string of pearls. I don't know why, but I allowed him to push my face down into the bed and lube up my ass. Then he began inserting the long string of silicone beads. I contracted my sphincter muscles as he pushed in each bead.

“Black ass—no more white women for me. How does it feel to know Trey is cheating on you? This is my pussy and ass. Fuck Trey! Rico is in the house and now Trey's woman is mine,” Rico said as Camille and Melvin reappeared from somewhere.

I found Rico's words odd, but curiosity got the best of me as I complied. After the beads were completely inside of me, Rico began to screw me like he was getting paid to pound me passionately.

“Scream for me. It's ok, mami. Let it go. We're in the middle of the Bay. Scream like you like it, damnit! Let me know you feel what I'm doing to you.”

Camille rose to her feet, walked over, and quickly pulled the beads out of my ass. I screamed freely as an unexpected orgasm caused me to explode. Rico was right. It did feel good. I don't know if Melvin sitting on the small bench observing me getting turned out in a new way had something to do with it . . . but it could've.

The liquor had me feeling loose enough to behave like an exhibitionist who was well acquainted with these sex games. I got down on my knees and gave Rico head and then let him bang me some more, all in front of Mel, who was stroking his dick, and Camille, who was pushing her right breast up to her mouth to lick her own nipples. Rico and I screwed each other like dogs in heat as it rained. The four of us moaned as the sexual escapade of a different flavor unfolded.

When I awakened in Rico's arms, I sighed. I didn't mean to get busy with him again, but I had crossed the line like I couldn't manage to use my common sense. When we made it back to the dock area, and Rico collected his wheels, I felt the strain of realizing I was sleeping with my future husband's best man. I wanted to cry. As I held onto him while we rode his motorcycle to my home, I became more and more disgusted with myself. Like it or not, I'd slipped and dug my hole a whole lot deeper.

 

Rico attempted to deliver a long goodbye when we reached my house. Instead, I turned my head and showed him no affection.

“If it matters to you, you got the job,” he told me.

“I don't want it, and I don't want you.” I blurted out. I swung my head around, stormed off, and slammed the front door after I stepped through it.

While looking out of the window, I watched as Rico fastened his helmet to his head. He jumped on his bike, and sped off without saying a word more. Five minutes after I got into the house, my cell phone was ringing.

“Why didn't you call me back, Les? Where have you been? I gave you a ring after I took care of my errands,” Trey told me.

“Where have I been? I'm home, of course. I'm sorry I was a bit forgetful. I didn't charge my cell phone, so I didn't know you called.”

I knew my signal was bouncing when I was on the water in Annapolis—the real reason I didn't receive Trey's message. I heard a pesky beep interrupt my lie. Rico's number was flashing.

“I'll call you back in a few minutes from the landline, baby. I have something on the stove that smells like it's about to burn up,” I lied. I mentioned calling Trey from the landline to reinforce the fact that I was home.

“At six thirty in the morning?” Trey questioned.

“Yes, at six thirty in the morning. I eat breakfast too you know,” I answered. In reality, I was brewing a pot of strong coffee to help me wake up.

I clicked over and heard Rico's voice. “Leslie, I realize you weren't in a talkative mood this morning so I thought I'd give you something to think about. I'll mail your clothes to Trey's job. I have pictures of you in my phone. Pictures my boy took of you in the boat. Pictures of my earring in Trey's bed. Text messages. I'll ruin you. If you really love him and want to protect your relationship, get rid of him. If this is what I have to do to keep you, I'm willing. If I have to, I'll make you love me.”

“You don't have shit on me. Stop bluffing, Rico. I'm not going to fuck around with you anymore. You can't make me do a thing except stay black and die since that's already a done deal,” I said firmly.

The next thing I knew, picture after picture popped up on my cell phone. The dirty dog had actually snapped nude pictures of me, and his boy Mel must've been helping him make a Kodak moment out of the time we all spent on the boat. I saw snapshots of me holding a drink in my hand, snuggling up to Rico, others with my legs open as I looked like I was enjoying his pounding, and finally a picture of his earring in Trey's bed. I was fucked. I couldn't believe Rico actually strong-armed me into spend time with him and then got the goods on me when I showed up.
Damn, he ran game on me.
At that moment I realized how ruthless some men could be. After seeing what I saw, I was speechless. I sat down on the couch and held my aching head in my hands.

My trance was broken an hour later. A large truck pulled up into my driveway. Someone had furniture delivered: a full-sized bed, two night stands and a wardrobe, and a three piece living room modular. I knew who did it. Rico had flipped his lid.

“I don't want this shit. Take it all back!” I protested as the driver and his helper began unloading it.

“Ma'am, this delivery is paid for. If you don't want it you'll have to take that up with the sender. I'm just doing my job.”

After a while I gave in, but I was hot as a July day. I directed them to leave the bedroom items in the guest room until I figured out what I would do with them. I was forced to allow them to set up the modular in my basement since that was the only remaining place I had room to store anything. As if I needed any more surprises, I heard a knock at the door. This time, it was a flower delivery for me.

I signed for them and snatched the box without thanking the delivery man. I opened it and found a dozen long stemmed red roses with a card:

This time Rico had outdone himself for sure. He was charging ahead like a burly bull running through a china shop. He wasn't concerned about whom he may hurt or the end result of his sick behavior. All Rico wanted was his way, when all I initially desired was to remember what it was like to have a fling before I couldn't have one anymore. Obviously, Rico was on some different shit. His obsession to prove things were more than just straight fucking was beginning to give me the creeps. I wanted to undo every tie that I knotted with him, but he was fighting to maintain every one of them, moving fast and carelessly. That's when I realized I was dealing with a psycho who happened to hold a Juris Doctor degree. I stripped the sheets on my bed and hoped that the new Simmons Beautyrest mattress would be built to last. Either way, at least it came with a twenty-five year warranty. I wished I'd followed my intuition and left him alone on the day he made my toes curl like never before, but it was much, much too late.

M
onday morning sneaked up on me like a skilled thief. It was a beautiful clear day, but who would've known it? Trey, now back in town from his short business trip, came home from playing basketball and showered, and dragged his tired, famished ass, along with a load of laundry, over for dinner. Hugs and smiles of bliss warmed my spirit, but things headed toward rock bottom, in a mere five minutes—the time it took for Trey to discover the new items that were sitting in my place.

“I can't wait for us to be together every day,” Trey said, wrapping his arms around my waist. “I'm the luckiest man in the world. I'm so happy to have a woman like you to marry. Leslie, you accept me faults and all. I just want to say thank you for really wanting to be with me for the rest of our lives.”

“You just said all of that because you know I cooked for you,” I teased.

“No, that's not it. I'm just excited that in a few weeks, this whole wedding thing will be behind us. The stress and pressures that have been tugging at us will be all gone.”

“I'm excited about our big day too, Trey.”

Before I could stop him, Trey let go of my waist and disappeared into the basement to throw his clothes in and returned with a disgusted look on his face.

“Wait a minute, Les. Why all the new furniture. It's nice, but why?” Trey said, letting go of my waist.

“How could you go out and spend money on furniture when you're supposed to be on a budget? How much did all of this cost you?”

“Trey, I've got it all under control. It's not like I'm paying on it until 2007. Stop being a professional skeptic. How about a little patience here? It's not like you haven't ever splurged on something. Relax. Come sit down with me, eat, and tell me all about your day,” I said, trying to change the subject. Apparently, Trey didn't want to let it go.

“You seem to lack direction, and we need financial security, Leslie. You've always been frugal from what I've seen. I just don't understand why you would go out and buy expensive things you don't need at a time like this. There are bills still owed for our wedding. We need to be moving forward, not backward. Why didn't you consult with me first?”

“Why should I consult with you over how I spend my own money? I have my own checkbook, and what I do with my piggy bank is my business. As I
said,
I've got it under control. Can't you hear? I'm well aware of our bills and my responsibilities. Maybe your family is putting shit in your ear about me—poisoning your mind against me. I am not marrying them, I'm marrying you. And if Leslie wanted a new mattress so Leslie could get a good night's sleep, then she should have it!”

“Maybe my mother and grandmother have some good points I've never thought about,” Trey defended with frustration.

“And maybe I haven't thought about the fact that you're a momma's boy who can't navigate your way out of a wet paper bag without her approval. It's either them or your damn friends. I never come first. I'm tired of being an afterthought.”

Trey banged his fist on the counter. I watched his brows form a line. I knew I'd hit the wrong button. I'd never seen him act so emotional.

“I have a right to go out. I bust my balls every day at work, and playing ball or hanging with my boys is something I deserve. Unlike some people, I'm not on summer vacation. I work all year long in corporate America. You have no idea what it's like in a competitive market like D.C. You talk about the things I do and have no idea why I need what I need. Hey, someone has to have a real job.”

“And you have no idea what it's like working as a teacher in this school system. I take less money in my check during the year so I can get a summer break. Don't act like I'm a shiftless bum who is looking to you for a handout. I'm bringing something to the table as an asset, not a liability. I've got my own place, my own car, my bills stay paid, and I'm an independent woman. I'm not one of those D.C. or East Coast gold diggers you're used to. You don't even appreciate that about me,” I said with my hand on my hip, yelling in his face.

“You have no idea what kind of day I've had at work. I don't need to come and listen to this foolish talk. Maybe coming here tonight was a big mistake. I've got a great family. Where's yours? Are they really all dead like you said? How could all of them be wiped out without a trace? Maybe I don't really know you at all.”

“I am tired of bickering with you. Get out!” I pointed toward the door. All I could do was watch him leave as tears streamed down my face.

“You're overreacting, Leslie! I need to be in a relationship with an adult. You're just so emotional, and all you do is complain. Can't we talk about something different for a change?” Trey mumbled.

“Overreacting? If you want to see overreacting, then I'll show you overreacting!”

I threw a lamp across the room at him. He ducked then slammed the door.

“Go get fucked up in a bar with your boys. The way things stand right now, I don't give a shit,” I screamed long after he'd gone.

Instead of communicating with Trey, I began lashing out at him because my patience threshold and the love I felt for him was fading quickly. I lied about paying for the furniture because I couldn't tell the truth about it coming from Rico. There was so much I needed to say to him, but I couldn't put the truth out there for his inspection. All I felt was an empty space, despite my wedding being only four weeks away.

Although I started the fiasco, I was so angry at the things Trey said and I wanted to get back at him. He knew any talk about my family was a sensitive issue, and he'd twisted the knife in my back by throwing the issue up in my face. As I wiped the tears from my eyes, I felt the need to resurrect Innocence.

I was feeling the stress of being stretched to the limit and decided to do something about it. If I couldn't have the life I really wanted, at least I could make another one up in private. My double life fed my libido and gave me a break from life's day-to-day troubles.

 

Hours later, I couldn't resist the temptation of taking the edge off; I had plenty of nervous energy to burn. I didn't want to jump in with both feet by purchasing a prepaid phone and setting up a website. Instead, I logged onto craigslist.org, read over many of the provider ads to learn something more about how to set up shop, and then posted an anonymous ad under the erotic services section of Washington, D.C.:

I went to the basement to finish some laundry and was shocked to find about fifty responses by the time I returned. I cut and pasted a reply with rules to each ad:

After I took a nap, there were twice as many responses as before. I had no idea so many people would want to meet me, even without viewing a glimpse of a picture. Then again, I'd read so many posts about dissatisfied customers. Explaining that I was new meat may have been the draw card. I closed my eyes, pointed to my flat screen and picked out a random email. I read the winning entry and decided to read about my first customer—a man whose best friend was getting hitched.
How ironic!
It seemed harmless enough, so I decided to go for it and called the number provided. We agreed on the terms and set a time. Part of the terms specified that if he saw me and didn't like me, all bets were off. I knew that wasn't going to happen though. My confidence was growing, and thanks to Rico I'd gotten a very swollen ego.

Late that evening, I arrived at the address I had scribbled down on a notepad. A man answered the door, but the funny thing was he wasn't the type who seemed like he'd be trolling a message board full of prostitution ads. I'd been paying so much attention to Trey I didn't realize how many good-looking men there were in the area. Although I'd traveled about thirty minutes from D.C. to the ‘burbs, I still considered it in
the area.

The gentleman standing before me was the young, executive buppie type. With the exception of his neat shoulder length dreads, he reminded me of a polished stockbroker. The man dressed in the well-made suit made me want to jump his bones. When he opened his mouth and spoke, I wanted to melt.

“Innocence?” he asked with a slightly crooked smile.

“Yes, that's me.”

“Please come in,” he said, extending an arm of welcome.

“Only if I meet your approval,” I teased. “Do you like what you see?”

“Do I? You're a chocolate Barbie doll, just as you said. Perfect.” He formed the okay sign with his fingers. I quietly sighed in relief, glad that he was pleased. “Here, let me take that for you,” he said, reaching for my things.

“Oh, thank you.” I walked in first. He followed. I stood in the foyer with a small bag on my shoulder.

“There's someone I'd like you to meet. Dougie, where are you?” he called.

“In here, Maxwell.” The voice sounded like whoever it was possessed a chronically stuffed nose. When he appeared, I was stunned—he was the opposite of his friend. What I saw was some real freaked out shit. A short, pudgy man appeared wearing a Breathe Right Nasal Strip on the bridge of his nose and linty, blue polyester high water pants. He walked slightly bent over, and even had masking tape holding the middle of his glasses together. To say the least, the guy was a social loser. Nevertheless, it wasn't my job to judge him by his looks or the smell of all the Old Spice he was wearing, which, by the way, could've easily opened his nasal passages. I was there to provide a service, and I was determined to do so.

The three of us talked awhile to add to the comfort of my visit. It turned out Dougie was a loaded, eccentric nerd—an investment guru who still lived in his mother's basement despite his worth of over five million dollars. He recently became engaged. I guessed some woman decided to love him after finding out he'd saved the first paycheck he ever earned and continued saving and investing, rather than because of his charm, or the sparkle in his eyes. After Maxwell demanded that he remove his breathing strip, Dougie even snorted in between laughs as he explained he was never a ladies man, but looked forward to moving into a small cottage with his new bride. You didn't have to tell me she had other plans for an abode, but I didn't say a word—I just listened. Maxwell, my bronzed hunk, was divorced with one child. He worked with Dougie at an investment firm, and seemed to have to fight women off with a stick. Quite frankly, I saw why. The man's game was tight,
plus
it was quite apparent he had a brain. After we chatted for a few moments it was time to get down to business. After all, these two were on my time clock, no matter how interesting they appeared to be.

“Shall we get started, gentlemen?”

“Wait just one minute. I have to take my Alka Seltzer,” Dougie said. “When I get nervous my stomach burns. When my stomach burns, I sit up all night with gas.” He got up.

“Stop stalling, Dougie. Hurry,” Maxwell told him.

Dougie drank down the fizzing solution. He finally returned then sat back down on the couch. “Okay. Oh boy. Oh boy, I'm ready. Now what?” He began to snort as he laughed.

Maxwell and I ignored him, and I noticed that Dougie didn't move. “Oh, you'll be staying? I though this was for just one person,” I asked.

Maxwell explained, “I'm sorry for the mix up, but I'll be staying too. My friend here is so shy that if I don't stay he wouldn't even look at you. I'll pay for the inconvenience.”

I didn't believe his explanation. By the way he was eying me, I knew he wanted to see if I could work what I had and also discover what I had under my denim skirt and tank top.

“Very well then . . . I'll accommodate you. I'm sure you recall my list of rules.” I said with a smile. “So, what's your desire?”

Dougie whispered in Maxwell's ear. “A strip tease,” Maxwell responded.