Single Husbands (11 page)

Lexington lamented, “You’re not interested in me. You’re furious that I don’t care anymore. I don’t care that you think withholding
sex from me is some sort of punishment. I’m not your fucking child. Your kids are upstairs. And thanks to you, they’re probably
awake. Let me go!”

Donna uncurled her fingers, then reached for his head wrap. Blocking her hand, Lexington scrambled out of the house, got in
his car, and locked the doors.

“Get out the car! Lexington, do not drive off.”

Looking in his rearview mirror, he saw Donna in their driveway, crying. Her bunny slippers were hideous. But seeing his wife
wearing one of his button-up shirts was a first, but he liked it. His shirt was sexy on her. Now, if she’d do something with
her hair and her damn attitude, maybe he’d give her the respect she deserved and listen to what she really wanted to say.
Until then, it was Saturday night and she knew he wouldn’t be back until sunrise. One day, he might not go home again. He
should buy a second home and separate from Donna.

“I can’t stop loving you. I can’t help myself. And I can’t get over you. No matter what I tell myself, baby”
resonated from the speakers in his SUV, reminding him of last Saturday night when Nikki showed up at the club, all dressed
up just for him. Cruising into the lot at the swingers club, Lexington self-parked his car, then continued listening to Kemistry
sing the words that Lexington felt in his heart for Nikki.

Why did he love Nikki more than Donna? If he had lived with Nikki for ten years, would he feel the same about her? Why did
he marry Donna? He couldn’t recall. Oh, that was it. He’d watched Nikki accept Herschel’s proposal on national television.
That, and the fact that Donna was extremely accommodating. Willingly she’d relocated to a city she’d never visited, South
Beach, to support him emotionally. She sold her New Orleans cuisine restaurant, downtown on Tchoupitoulas Street, to become
his housewife and cook. Donna should’ve stayed in New Orleans and continued servicing her almost five-thousand monthly repeat
and tourist customers if all she was going to give him was verbal lip service.

Changing his mind about self-parking, Lexington shifted into reverse, then drove a short distance to valet. He was excited
his usual Saturday-night-live script was in motion. Handing the club monitor a new bottle of tequila, Lexington read the sign
on the double doors before entering, circled his finger in the air, then handed the bartender a $50 tip.

Tonight, Lexington wanted intoxicating euphoria and escapism from being an entrepreneur. No meetings. No responding to text
messages or e-mails. No returning calls. Unbuttoning his shirt in transit to the community dressing room, he motioned for
the attendant to get on his job and open a locker. Quickly he removed, then placed his clothes, shoes, and wallet in the locker.
Why in the fuck had he invited Nikki to his spot last week? Listening to her tell him she couldn’t wait to come back pissed
him off. She could forget that. He had not invited her back.

Entering the room with a glass door, Lexington motioned for the two women standing in the hallway to come join him. Plopping
on the sofa, he spread his thighs wide. Lexington was in the midst of getting his dick sucked while chilling with his face
marinating in some sweet pussy juices until the couple on the bed next to him and his crew suddenly stopped fucking.

Looking up from licking the woman’s pussy, Lexington said, “Oh, hell no. What is she doing here?” He knew this fucking shit
was going to happen; it was all his fault.

Nikki stood on the other side of the glass door. He wondered how long her voyeurism had honed in on his promiscuity. Scanning
Nikki from her feet to her head, he saw she had on black gladiator-style strap-up shoes, a black thong, a black lace-up bustier,
and a platinum ass-length wig.

Damn!
Lexington thought, rising from his knees. “Excuse me, ladies, I’ll be right back. Y’all play with one another to keep my
pussies wet.”

Exiting the semiprivate room, Lexington wrapped his towel around his waist, gripped Nikki’s hand, led her to the dance floor,
then scolded her. “Nikki, what’s up? You need to take your ass home. I don’t mind you coming to my spot when I invite you,
but only when I invite you. Herschel is on his way, and he’s going to flip the fuck out if he finds out you’re here. And for
the record, if he gets here before you leave, you are
not
with me, okay?”

Lexington had invited Nikki as a onetime adventure, but he didn’t want her to start showing up on Saturdays like a regular.
She didn’t even have the decency to tell him she was coming.

“And what about Donna? You saying you have permission to be here every Saturday night? What if I bring her here next Saturday?
We could have a foursome. Or better yet, why wait? How about I go get her and bring her here tonight? Oh, you don’t think
I saw her in the driveway with her damn slippers on, begging you not to leave. I do me, Lexington, ’cause all you married
men are the same. Fucked up in the heads,” Nikki said, pointing at his wrapped locks, then his dick.

Hearing Nikki talk down to him deflated his ego in more than one way. Lexington’s dick slumped, and she saw it happen as the
bulge under his towel disappeared. Was Nikki spying on him? The only possible way for her to see Donna standing in his driveway
was Nikki either had binoculars, a telescope, or both.

Nikki continued, “And need I remind you, just like you, I’m the moneymaker in my house, not Herschel. I wish he would show
his ass up here. He’ll be sleeping at your damn house.”

What had gotten into his friend? Was she straight tripping? It didn’t matter how much money Nikki made, she would forever
be a woman, and that was not his fault. Lexington’s jaws tightened as he backed away from Nikki. He felt distant, like those
two women who’d danced last week without touching one another. He’d known Nikki too long for their friendship to end over
sexual encounters, because he was definitely fucking a few women tonight, but Nikki was not on his list. Not tonight. He seriously
regretted introducing her to his favorite swingers club.

“Oh, shit,” Lexington said, staring toward the front entrance.

A group of three sexy-ass women known as the “Queens of Ecstasy” walked in. Superfreaky shit was about to jump off with a
vengeance in a blazing minute. Lexington untied his locks, tossing the head wrap over a rail that partially surrounded the
dance floor, in case he had to put one of them in bondage. Lexington tried to figure out how to get rid of Nikki without pissing
her off. His dick went from limp to standing hard, firm, and tall.

One of the Queens walked up to him, bowed before him, removed his towel from his waist.
Smack!
She slapped his ass hard, held his dick in her hand, and started pumping his dick like she was an air pump and he was the
inner tube, then said, “Ladies, we’ve got a foot-long colossal dick over here. I’m gonna need some pussy power reinforcement
for this anaconda motherfucker.”

Aw, shit.
No man ever chose the Queens of Ecstasy. Whatever man they wanted, they got, and every other man gawked on the sideline with
envy. This was Lexington’s third time being selected in six months, and he was not missing out on this opportunity by thinking
about Nikki or Donna.

Beckoning for her other Queens to join her, she squatted to the floor, spread her thighs, stroked her pussy, then started
licking his balls. Motioning with her free hand, she curled her finger at the guy across the room. He scurried over, damn
near slipping on the hardwood dance floor.

“Lay your ass down underneath me and eat my pussy while I teabag these casaba nuts,” she said.

That motherfucker slid under her pussy like he was a fucking mechanic and started eating her pussy like he was trying to unplug
a serious leak.

Holding Lexington’s dick away from her mouth, she stared down at the guy eating her pussy, then said, “I am not a bitch. Stop
licking my pussy like you’re a dog. Switch that shit up. Suck. Lick. Flick. Now kiss. That’s better. Keep that rotation going.”
The Queen resumed sucking Lexington’s dick.

I sure hope that dude don’t fuck it up for everybody,
Lexington thought.

The other Queen extended her long lizard tongue, flicked it up and down from Lexington’s nipples, his armpit, then down to
his ass. He felt her hot tongue penetrating his butt cheeks; then she stood, grinding her pussy on his ass. Motioning for
a guy standing on the sideline, she told him, “Come fuck this good pussy, you dirty-ass bastard, before I beat your naughty
ass.”

He already had his swollen dick in his hand before he stepped onto the dance floor. “Yes, my queen,” he said, putting on a
condom before standing behind her.

“Get your slow, inexperienced ass back over there and wait until I call you again. I may call you in two minutes or two years,
but when a Queen calls you to service her pussy, motherfucker, you come correct or your ass won’t come at all,” she said,
beckoning for his replacement.

The third Queen joined them, suctioning Lexington’s dick deep inside her mouth. When she scanned the room, Lexington wanted
to laugh but couldn’t. Men were raising their hands like kindergarteners. She found her Puerto Rican man, then winked at him.
He swiftly appeared as if Scotty had beamed his ass over to the Queen’s pussy throne.

“Lick my pussy until it’s nice and wet; then I want you,” she whispered, “to fuck the shit out of me.”

The man underneath the first Queen was flat on the floor. He slid his face between Lexington’s feet, far up enough for the
first Queen to ride his dick like she was a jockey on a thoroughbred, coming in first place a head in front of the other two
Queens.

Closing his eyes, Lexington shook his head, hoping whenever he regained consciousness Nikki would have gotten up out of the
chair she’d dragged onto the dance floor and was on her way home. Lexington had lied to Nikki. Herschel was never coming,
nor had he ever stepped foot in the swingers club while Lexington was there. He had to say something to get Nikki to leave.

Opening his eyes, he saw the chair on the dance floor was gone. Nikki was gone. Or so he thought, until he spotted her across
the room bent over a table with some dude fucking her from behind. Lexington squinted, trying to see if the dude was fucking
his woman in the ass.
Damn, Nikki could take it like that?

“On the count of three, ladies,” the first Queen announced, and Lexington, along with the other two guys, screamed like bitches.

Lexington felt the cum being sucked out of his dick like it was a thick milkshake. He imagined the same shit was happening
with the other guys, except the other two Queens used their pussies instead of their mouths. Shaking his head to erase the
X-rated thought of helping ole boy please Nikki, Lexington was now willing to fuck Nikki in whatever hole wasn’t occupied.

His dick hung limp in disagreement. His nuts were drained. Lexington walked away from the dance floor, bypassed the restrooms,
and asked the locker room attendant, “Man, can you open up my locker for me?”

Stroking on a few dabs of cologne, Lexington prayed by the time he made his way back to the front, Nikki would be gone. Fuck
that, he wasn’t worrying about Nikki’s ass. He was not going to the front area. He wrapped a fresh towel around his waist
and headed to the Freak-a-Zone in the back, where everything went down except dicks on dicks. Lexington was glad none of that
gay activity was permitted. The one thing he never wanted to see or experience was a man fucking or sucking another man. A
man who lusted after Lexington’s dick would get his ass kicked.

Strolling thorough the Zone to see what else was happening, and which regulars had slipped in while he had his eyes closed
on the dance floor, Lexington nodded his head at a few of the guys he knew.

A guy he didn’t know, or hadn’t seen at the club before, said, “You my fucking hero, nigga! My dick would have paid big-time
to trade places with you out on that dance floor. Goddamn!”

“That’s what’s up,” Lexington said, bypassing him.

All five of the beds in the Zone were packed with women and men sitting on the edge, getting their clits licked or dicks sucked.
A few women were bent over the sides getting fucked doggie-style.

Aw, damn,
Lexington thought as he spotted the finest woman in the Zone sitting alone at the bar, checking out everyone else. What was
up with her? Or what was wrong with her that she appeared comfortable being antisocial? Lexington welcomed the challenge to
break her barrier and eat her pussy.

She looked classy, sophisticated, and very much in control of her hormones. “For sure. That’s the one I’m fucking next,” Lexington
mumbled. She was obviously new to the club environment, reminding him of his first swingers experience in Atlanta.

Lexington preferred the swingers club in Atlanta over the one in Fort Lauderdale. When he went to the ATL, he’d travel throughout
the community rooms, where beds were lined up under canopies draped with sheer linens flowing down each post, which reminded
him of the beds at Nikki Beach. He’d stroll between the three Jacuzzis and the pool. The smell of chlorinated water gave him
the feeling of sliding naked into the pool at Hedonism II in Negril.

In another room, he could join in or watch or steal away into one of the eight private rooms. He could chill and play a few
games of pool or sit at the bar and watch men leaning back on sofas with their hands clamped behind their heads while naked
females with nice bodies and booties were lined up on coffee tables bobbing for lollicocks—as if the one who could make her
man come first would win some sort of prize.

Other than Nikki, he couldn’t say he cared about any of the females he’d fucked at sex clubs. Lexington envied his boy Brian
and the way Brian adored Michelle. Why couldn’t Lexington feel the same way about Donna? It wasn’t that Brian hadn’t done
shit on the side. Brian’s preference was to fuck every woman he could, but never fuck any of them more than once. As long
as Nikki was alive, that “hit it, then quit” philosophy wouldn’t work for Lexington.