I slept like a baby that night. All of my dreams were filled with you. It was so wild because we had been friends for so long, working closely together and all of that. I had never thought of you in a sexual way until that night. In my mind, I wanted to be with you, but I feared losing your friendship by coming on to you.
The next afternoon, when I arrived at the club for rehearsal, we were all alone. You informed me that the club’s owner, Ralph, had gone across town to pick up some liquor for the club. I started feenin for your ass right off the bat. You had on one of those tight-ass body shirts that revealed all of your muscles and some jeans that showed off that well-defined ass of yours. I was so fucking nervous. Apparently it showed, because you asked me what was wrong.
I had danced around what happened between me and Kendall when I told all of you I had moved in with my sister, but I sat there and spilled the whole story to you that afternoon. You listened intently and looked me in my eyes while I talked. Your dark eyes hypnotized me. The whole time I was talking about Kendall, I really wanted it to be about the two of us.
We decided we better get some rehearsing done. I leaned over the edge of the black grand piano and began singing as you played. The rehearsal went great, and we were about to end it when you told me to come there. I was shook and not sure what you meant. You took me by the hand and pulled me closer to you so that I was standing in between your legs, facing you, while you sat on the piano bench. My round, succulent ass was resting on about a dozen of the eighty-eight keys as you took your hands and traced the outline of my chest with them.
I had on a black, loose-fitting above-the-knee skirt and a white crop top that left my pierced belly button exposed. You palmed my breasts in your hands and took the round earring onto the tip of your tongue and licked my belly button gently. My pussy was instantly wet. All I could do was caress the back of your head. I couldn’t believe you wanted it too. Just the night before, I figured you would tell me to get lost if I came on to you. Yet there we were, the situation totally reversed, with you coming on to me.
You lifted my shirt up over my breasts, reached behind my back, unfastened my bra, and devoured my breasts, giving them both an equal tongue bath. We both moaned softly. I was wiggling my ass on the piano keys ’cause my pussy was yearning for your touch. You must have read my mind because you stood up and tongue-kissed me while you lifted me up on top of the grand piano. My feet were on the piano keys, playing an unrecognizable tune. I spread my legs to meet your hardened dick grinding in between them.
You laid me back on the piano, lifted my skirt, and ripped my panties off, not wanting to go through the effort of pulling them down and off. You caressed my nipples, one in each hand, as you began to suck on my anxiously awaiting pussy. I arched my back so that only my ass and head were actually resting on the piano top as you partook of the life source of my pussy. No man had ever eaten me out like that before. I realized that you were answering all the questions I was wondering about the night before onstage.
As I came in your mouth, I could hear your pants unzipping. I could barely wait to get some of your dick. My wait was short. You stood up on the piano stool and entered my pussy as it rested on the edge of the piano top. I pictured what it would be like if the cramped yet cozy club was standing room only at that moment, with people nursing their drinks, smoking cigars and cigarettes, making the room cloudy as they watched you grind your dick into me. You fucked me so hard, the rest of the day I had trouble walking straight, but it was well worth it.
That night, during our live show, I was not too much for singing the blues. I was ready to skat my ass off and dance the jig, jumping for joy because I was so hooked on you. I still am hooked. In fact, we are hooked on each other. The past five years as your wife have been the best years of my life. We still perform together four nights a week at the club and raise our baby girl, Harlem, together during the day. From now until the end of time, I know the only blues in my life will be onstage. You have turned my real world into heaven on earth, and I love you, boo!
Lust in a Bus Depot
“Simone? Is that you?”
I turned around to see who was calling out my name. “Wendell? Wow! Long time, no see!”
It had indeed been a long time since Wendell and I had laid eyes on each other—at least four or five years. We walked up to each other and engaged in a long, comforting embrace.
“Damn, Simone, you look fantastic! How long has it been?” His smile was still the same. So beautiful, I wanted to jump his bones.
“Hmmm, it has been quite some time. Funny how time flies.” I was in shock, but tried not to show it. Ever since my freshman year in high school, I had wanted Wendell. I was always too shy to tell him, though. I spent hours upon hours daydreaming about him in class, but he never knew it. He was so busy dating all the cheerleaders and school queens, I’m not sure he even cared.
In high school, I was dumpy and far from a sex goddess. My mother used to imply that I purposely made myself look unattractive so boys wouldn’t pay me any mind. Looking back on it, I realize she may have not only hit the nail on the head but all the way through the fucking headboard.
I got lost in thought, daydreaming again, when the woman over the loudspeaker started blaring out the bus arrival and departure schedule again. Her voice was nothing short of obnoxious and knocked me out of my trance. Wendell wasn’t saying anything either. He was too busy checking my new and improved ass out.
The Simone from high school and the Simone standing before him in the bus depot were from two different planets. I was shy all the way through high school, but everything changed when I got to college. Two people are responsible for the dramatic changes in me that came about freshman year: my roommate and my man.
Melinda was my roommate freshman year and was a real wild chile. She insisted I shed the dumpy look and threw hoochie clothes on me instead, did my hair and makeup, and even showed me how to seduce a man. At first, I thought she was plum foolish, but after being bored to death too many weekends in a row while she was out on dates, I decided to give it a shot.
It didn’t take long for the Melinda Mind-Bender Plan, as she called it, to work. I met Duncan at the very first club we hit on my virgin voyage into the nightlife. The areas Melinda couldn’t help me in, Duncan damn sure did. He taught me how to free myself from the imprisonment I created in my mind growing up. He taught me how to experiment with my feelings and emotions, wants and desires. In other words, he taught me how to fuck.
Duncan used to get this pussy anywhere and everywhere and at anytime. I never complained. I was glad I had waited for the right lover to come along because he broke my ass in right. I never loved him, though; never that. It was almost like fucking a play brother or something. I cared for him, but not in a relationship kind of way.
Eventually my feelings, or lack thereof, caused our demise. That was perfectly cool with me. It’s not like I was sweating it or anything. I left the relationship with more than I entered it with, and that’s all that matters.
Wendell, on the other hand, is a different matter altogether. I always wanted the real deal with him. Now that fate had intervened, I wasn’t about to let the opportunity slip by to get with him. “So, Wendell, what are you doing in a bus depot in Charlotte in the middle of the night?”
He laughed. “I might ask you the same thing. I’m on my way from NYC to Atlanta, and you?”
“Oh, you still live in the Apple, huh? I live in D.C. now. I’m on my way to meet my parents in Florida for a few days. Gonna do the mouse-ears thing.” We both giggled like a couple of kindergarten students.
“How long before your bus leaves?”
“Hmm, about an hour or so, but you know how it is with buses. An hour could mean three.”
People were walking past and bumping into us, since we were in the direct path of the main pedestrian traffic inside the terminal. Wendell suggested we find a couple of seats and helped me with my duffel bag. The bag was extremely heavy, and it was a relief not to have to drag it for a moment. As usual, I had packed everything but the kitchen sink and would end up not wearing even half of the clothes in it.
Wendell and I sat there, reminiscing about the good old days for about half an hour. Underneath my calm and cool exterior, I was working myself up into a frenzy. My eyes kept wandering to the gigantic clock on the depot wall, and I was dreading the moment when we would have to split up again.
What if I didn’t see him for another four or five years? Ten years? Ever again? The mental anguish was too much to bear. Even though there had been drastic changes in my personality since high school, in an instant, I reverted back to those days and was shy all over again.