“I knew you’d cum, too. Just not here.”
The woman’s laughter floated into Jay’s back-grazing locs. Delightfully similar, her pent-up natural hair tickled Jay’s nose and cheeks. She loved the girlish joy beckoning her closer behind the grown-woman glamour. Sweet and playful, it clashed with Jay’s urgency to experience her again, but Jay ignored it, their verbal exchange captivating.
“Thank you for the CDs. I’ve wanted them forever. Now my collection’s complete.”
Jay’s chin lifted in that sexy way of hers. “I’m Porgy to your Bess.”
The beauty’s laughter filled the bathroom air with the tinkle of magic. “Oh now that’s original, although I hoped you would be.”
A female voice soaked in authority bumped up against Jay’s suave, “You’re welcome.”
“Delilah, your bathroom break is up, darling! You may be the star of this revue, but you’ve got less than fifteen minutes!”
Delilah’s pout and eye rolling sent Jay careening into a slow burn. If the night’s promise wasn’t so fulfilling, she might have hollered to the voice to get herself another star because this one was hers now. Instead, she got, pulled into the goddess’s easy flow.
“Gotta go, sweety. One thing, though. I will tell you how charming you look when you’re caught up, studying me from your back windows.”
“Oh. You noticed?”
“Of course. I like your style, not too flashy, more businesslike. You’re about positive things for the community.” She paused. “Was thinking, maybe, possibly, we could, with my creativity and your business acumen, be the change our folks need.”
“Sounds foolproof to me.”
“Good. I’m Delilah, Jay Morrison.”
“I know. You’re good. Damn good.”
“Thanks. So are you. May I come over later, after the show, so we can finish what we started here? I give as well as I receive.”
To that boon, Jay bit her bottom lip and flashed her cockiest grin. Grateful for their meeting, she rose, offered Delilah her hand, and pulling her to her feet, softly kissed her before embracing Delilah close enough to synchronize their heartbeats. Blessed, she unlocked the door and watched her woman float backstage.
Jay headed back to Valentino, whom she had to thank for investing in burlesque tickets that had already begun to change her life.
Claudia Moss lives and writes in Atlanta, GA. The author of Dolly: the Memoirs of a High School Graduate, her fiction has been published in Longing, Lust, and Love: Black Lesbian Stories, the Hoot and Holler of the Owl, Catalyst, Labrys, Black Romance, Jive, Venus, and Black Issues Book Review magazine.
Uma
Sydney Molaré
The patter of small feet, then, “Uma, thuck.”
My body tensed at the sound.
“Thuck, now!” The high-pitched little voice now stressed with need.
“All right.” Female.
A chair was pulled out. I knew what came next.
I lifted from lounging on the sofa, moved quietly over the Berber carpet to stand next to the door unseen. My stomach flip-flopped, uterus clenched, palms wet.
A zipper being pulled.
Rustling of clothes as she pulled him onto her lap.
The wet sounds of suckling.
I peeked around the door, already knowing what I would see as this scene had been repeated six or seven times daily for the past two years. Uma sat in the chair, shirt flapping open, one nipple in Thor’s mouth, his hand massaging the other breast.