Bi-Satisfied Read online

  But how did I, as a woman, get over those fears of allowing David to let go and experience what I knew he missed with Michael? Was it selfish of me to experience the unbridled satisfaction of my sexual exploration and leave David lacking? Was the fact that Michael was married the only reason David didn’t travel down that road again?

  “You should have worn a bigger coat,” David said to me once he’d made sure I was safely buckled into my car.

  David walked around to the passenger side and got in. He always fussed when I didn’t wear the appropriate attire for winter. It was cold out. Most people were bundled up as if there was snow on the ground. I had on red tights, boots that resembled moccasins, and a light T-shirt, with only a hoodie as my cover.

  “It’s colder than Eskimo twat, and you out here in only a hoodie,” he added, continuing to fuss.

  He too was bundled up. Gloves, leather coat, skullcap, and all.

  “I’m okay,” I said to him as I backed out and then blended in with the traffic.

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Stop fussing.”

  “Wear a coat.”

  I shook my head and rolled my eyes as I pulled into traffic on East Ponce de Leon. I was quiet as David took phone calls. I texted my mother while at a stop light and told her I would call her later. My mind raced back to Michael again. I hadn’t really got a chance to say good-bye to him. He had gotten up and had dressed before I even opened my eyes. Woke me only when he was on his way out the door so I could lock my door behind him. He had to get back home to his wife and kids. Didn’t kiss me good-bye or give me hug. He rushed back to his hotel room to pack. David and I had been only a secret rendezvous for him. Something about that made me feel like we had been only something for him to do.

  “I need the legal memo you did on the Johnson case once we get back to your place,” David told me once he’d gotten off the phone.

  “I haven’t finished it yet,” I said.

  “Need it by tomorrow.”

  I glanced at him. “I won’t be done by tomorrow.”

  “I need it by tomorrow,” he repeated. When it came to work, he didn’t show me any favors. Treated me like the rest of the hired helpers around the office.

  “Okay,” I responded.

  Didn’t want to make him go on a tangent about it, and he would. When it came to work and time, it was best to be on time and to do the work thoroughly, or he’d rip you a new asshole. I cruised down the expressway in silence as we headed back to my house. After he finished fooling with his phone, he slipped it in his phone jacket pocket and then placed his hand on my thigh. I smiled a bit at the warm, tingly feeling I felt in my private areas. When his hand eased upward until it nestled tightly between my thighs, I glanced at him.

  His head was thrown back on the seat, as if he was sleeping, but he wasn’t. “Pay attention to the road, Summer,” he said to me.

  “Kind of hard with your hand down there,” I responded.

  His head lolled to the side, and he opened his eyes and looked at me. “You trying to kill us?”

  I looked back at the road, then quickly at him again. “It’d be your fault.”

  He smirked, rubbed his hand against me until I clenched involuntarily. My hands gripped the steering wheel hard.

  “David, stop,” I told him.

  “Make me.”

  I exhaled loudly, blowing out steam, and tried to keep my focus on the road. “I don’t have on any underwear. You’re going to have me get out of the car with a wet spot on my tights.”

  All he did was chuckle. After a while he stopped. I decided to get us home quickly, before he made me kill us. My mind wandered back to Michael. I kept wondering what his wife looked like. Wondered if she looked better than me. I wanted to put a face to the voice of the woman who hated for her husband to touch himself. Wanted to know what it was about her that would make David lie with her so easily.

  I drove the rest of the way back to my place with David’s hand still resting peacefully on my sweet spot. Once we got in, David didn’t have time to cook, since he had to familiarize himself with the case so he could be prepared for Monday. I prepared dinner for us, while he sat at the table and clicked away on his MacBook. After we ate, I took a seat at my home computer and finished the memorandum on the Johnson case, since I knew David wasn’t joking about needing it by the next day.

  I distracted him a few times. Sat on his lap and got a bit touchy-feely. He welcomed it for a while but then told me he had to get done, or he wouldn’t be ready for court on Monday. I pouted. Reluctantly agreed to leave him be. I finished the legal memo. Hit PRINT and then decided to go shower. I messed around in my room, cleaned up a bit. Called my mom, like I’d told her I would.

  “Summer? Hey, baby girl.” My mom’s voice came floating through the phone.

  I looked at the clock and saw that it was almost seven in the evening. I’d been so caught up in David and Michael that I hadn’t had a chance to talk to her. We’d send a text here and there, but we’d had no phone time. I missed her songbird-like voice.

  “Hey, Mama. What are you up to?” I asked.

  David stirred around downstairs. I could hear him on the phone as I talked with my mother.

  “Oh, you know, preparing Sunday dinner for tomorrow. Were you busy?”

  “No.” I cleared my throat. “Not right now I’m not.”

  “Well, I haven’t gotten a call from you since you called me drunk. Everything okay?”

  “Yeah. Me and David—”

  “You two were fighting again?”

  “We weren’t fighting.”

  “Well, what did you do this time, Summer?”

  I sighed and rolled my eyes. My family loved David too. He’d been invited to many family dinners over the past eight years. “Mama, can’t I have called you just because?” I asked.

  “Not when you’re drunk, Summer. You only call drunk when David is involved. So what happened?”

  I didn’t know if I wanted to rehash what had happened. Besides, it was over. We’d rectified the situation. No need to bring up old troubles.

  “I’ll tell you some other time,” I said.

  “Okay, honey. If you don’t want to talk, then you don’t have to. Don’t hold it in if you need to get it out, okay?”

  That was my mother. Ever the supportive spouse and parent. She would listen to whatever problems we came to her with. From the first time Hannah’s period came to when my cherry had been popped, Mama had been all ears. Had never made us feel as if talking about sex was a bad thing. As much of an “old-time religion” Christian as she was, she had never made us feel like having sex would send us to hell.

  “I know, Mama,” I said with a smile.

  “I talked to your father today.”

  My ears perked up. We hadn’t heard from Dad in months. He would go through these phases where he wouldn’t call us and wouldn’t allow us to come visit him.

  “How is he?” I asked anxiously.

  “He’s well, baby. He sent me a letter too, with pictures, new pictures. Isn’t it funny that on the day he calls, I get a letter and pictures too? He must have sent them out earlier in the week or last week some time.” She giggled like a schoolgirl. I heard pots and pans rattling around. The spray of water coming on made it sound as if there was wind in the background.

  I smiled at the fact that she was still very much in love with Dad. “Does he still look like Jax from Sons of Anarchy?”

  Mama cackled. “You know he hated when you told him that. He says that white boy looks dirty.”

  We both laughed at my father’s assessment. No matter how old my dad got, he kept getting younger, it seemed. My mama was almost ten years younger than he was, and she looked damn good for her age as well, but Dad looked a whole lot younger than she did.

  “How’s he holding up in there?”

  “He just got out of Sol-Con for fighting again. That was why we hadn’t heard from him in so long this time around. I thought he ha
d gone into one of his moods again.” Sol-Con was what my father called solitary confinement.

  “Did he ask about me?”

  “Of course he did, silly child. If he doesn’t ask about any of the other children, he will always ask about you.”

  I could hear the emotion in her voice. She always got emotional when we talked about Daddy. We both got quiet.

  A few moments later, I said, “Mama?”

  She was breathing erratically, so I knew she was shedding tears. “Yes, Summer?”

  “Is he going to say what the parole board wants to hear this time around?”

  “Oh, dear God, I hope so, Summer. I truly hope so. I miss him so much, baby girl. I do. It was so hard after he went away. Trying to raise the rest of the kids without him. Getting you all through college. I miss my man so much. He was . . . is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  Guilt tackled me in that moment. I stood from the bed and walked over to the window. Droplets of rain slid down the window as I imagined the tears falling down Mama’s face. David was chuckling at something. He spoke loudly. He was talking to Michael. I’d heard when he uttered his name moments before. Told him to go fuck himself as he laughed.

  “I’m sorry, Mama . . . ,” I whispered.

  “You did the right thing, Summer. You did. I wish you would have told sooner. Then the other children wouldn’t have suffered. We tried so hard to provide a safe environment for you guys, but every once in a while a devil got through.”

  My thoughts traveled back to the foster brother who had raped and molested me. It had gone on until I was fifteen, and then he’d just stopped. He had lived with us while he was in college. I thought he had simply targeted me because I was the oddball in the family, the black sheep literally. That and the fact that he had caught me at the yacht that day I was watching my parents have sex. He had threatened to tell, and that had been enough to keep me quiet. And then, one night, I’d caught him doing it to one of the little girls. She wasn’t black. She was white, like my other siblings. That had sparked something in me. There was nothing wrong with me. It was him. He just liked preying on children. I made a beeline to my parents and told them everything. Once I opened my mouth, three more of my foster brothers and sisters spoke up.

  My dad was livid. Mama had to stop him from going to my brother’s job to harm him. Took all of us crying and begging him to stay home for him not to do it. He finally agreed to stay home and calmed down before confronting that brother. And then, late that night, when we were all asleep, Dad snuck out of the house. A few hours later Mama got the phone call that he had shot and killed Bobby. Took a shotgun and blew a hole through his chest.

  “I didn’t know he would kill Bobby,” I whispered.

  “That perverted devil got exactly what he deserved, Summer. Don’t you go blaming yourself for this again. John would probably do it all over again if he had to. No child deserves that pain. None. Took us years of therapy to get you, Celine, and the other children functional again. All those damn child services people in our home, like we were running some kind of perv camp,” she fussed. She slammed pots and pans around as she did. I could hear the ruckus.

  “Is Daddy going to let us come see him?” I asked as I wiped my tears away.

  “No,” she said in a huff. “Said we didn’t need to see him all bruised up. Those goddamned racist Aryan Brotherhood assholes are giving him a hard time because he crosses color lines,” she said with a chuckle. “You know how your father is. Ever the liberal hippie. He would have been a Black Panther if he could have gotten away with it.”

  I smiled. “Yeah, but prison is a whole new ball game. Different set of rules in there.”

  “I know. I told him not to get himself killed while in there. Wish he would let us see him.”

  “I wish he would too,” I told her.

  That was how Daddy was. He was ever a man’s man. Even after I saw him with another man, nothing changed the image of him I had in my head. My parents had their sexual preferences, but they were still my parents. They protected me the most, because they felt they had to. I was one of only ten black children in my private school at the time. But Clarissa and John Kennedy made sure I wasn’t treated any differently when it came to academics and extracurricular activities. They’d chew the whole administration out if they had to.

  Although things changed when Daddy went to prison, we had enough money, so we didn’t know the difference. Mama ran Daddy’s boating and boat sales company until she couldn’t do it without him anymore. She sold it, with his permission, and deposited another big check into our family’s back account.

  Mom kept talking but changed the subject. Brought the spotlight back on me and asked when I was coming for dinner. Told me to make sure David was with me when I did. That took my mind back to the question that I was soon going to have to answer when it came to me and David. I knew that sooner or later he would feel the need to ask me again. After the sex-induced haze wore off, he’d want his answer.

  My mom and I talked for a few minutes more. Then she got off the phone so she could call Hannah. She said I’d called and reminded her that she needed to call the others. She was making her rounds, calling all her children to check in. I sat in my room for a moment. Needed to get my emotions in check. No matter what my mom had said, I would always feel like it was my fault a good man was in prison.

  Summer

  I had to shake myself out of those thoughts. Didn’t want to be depressed, like we all had been when Dad first went away. I walked back downstairs to find that David had ended his phone call with Michael. Wondered what they had talked about. Wanted to know if he’d asked David about me or if he had decided to come back to Atlanta to walk the road of adultery with us again. Decided to check my Facebook page. First person I saw when I logged on was Michael. He’d posted a new picture. Sweat dripped down his body, as if water had been thrown on him. His left hand was a fist as he flexed his arm. Tongue was hanging out of his mouth, making Gene Simmons’s tongue look subpar. I crossed my legs and moved around in my desk chair. I remembered what that tongue could do. Thought back to how it had wrestled with my clitoris until it had won that fight.

  #Beast was all the caption read underneath the picture. I would have clicked LIKE on the picture, but something told me not to. Scrolled through all the comments and laughed at how women had no shame throwing themselves at him. I kept staring into his eyes. Couldn’t get over the golden honey color, which stood out in stark contrast to the dark chocolate complexion. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one infatuated and in lust with him. His adoring female public talked about everything from the length of his tongue to what they wanted him to do with his big hands. I wondered if he’d had sex with any of the women who were obviously willing to give him pussy. Saw a few gays in the mix too. Started to feel a bit of jealousy and closed the picture.

  I needed a high to get over the conversation with my mom. I knew what junkies and alcoholics meant when they said the high took their minds off the pain. I swallowed hard. There was only one thing that could get me that high. I logged out of Facebook, then walked over to kiss David on his shoulder. He cast a quick glance at me and gave me a light smile. I moved his locks to the side and then kissed the back of his neck.

  He grunted. “You’re not going to let me finish this, are you?” he asked.

  “Can’t you take a break?”

  “No.”

  I placed his hand against my sex so he could feel what I wanted. “You sure?”

  He chuckled and turned around on the stool. “So staring at Michael gets you heated, and you come to me to put the fire out?”

  “I wasn’t staring,” I said, defending myself. Even when I thought David wasn’t watching, he was keeping his eyes on my every move.

  “What do you call it?” he asked as he pulled me between his legs. He kept his hand on my sex. He was rubbing and stroking slightly.

  “Was admiring the state-of-the-art gym behind him.”

  Davi
d chuckled. Pulled me closer, then slipped his hand underneath my nightshirt. I was already soaked. All he had to do was whip his johnson out, and I could guide him right to the promised land. “Yeah?” He let his fingers slip and slide between my folds.

  “Shit,” I murmured. “Yeah, fine landscaping, artwork in that gym.”

  “I know. Been on that land, doing the ‘scaping,’ plenty of times. I know every inch of that artwork,” he responded.

  I flinched. He slipped two of his fingers inside me. “I don’t care.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Want to see me do it again?” he asked me.

  I tilted my head and bit down on my bottom lip. “Say what?”

  “Michael said he’s thinking about coming back,” he answered.

  “When?” I asked.

  “Tomorrow or the next day. He isn’t too sure yet.”

  I didn’t want to show my excitement, but I was sure he felt it. “You in lust with him too?” I asked David.

  He gave me a lopsided grin. “Never fell out of lust with him.”

  David’s thumb, soaked by my arousal, made figure eights around my clitoris. His middle finger loved me so good that my head fell back and my legs started to quiver.

  “We can be in lust with him together,” I whispered.

  “We already are,” he answered.

  “We can show him what it feels like to have us lust after him together too.” I eyed David cautiously. Needed to see if he was reading between the lines. Wanted to see if he was picking up what wasn’t being said.

  He didn’t say anything at first. “Can you handle it?”

  “What? The lust? Doing just fine now,” I said with an air of confidence that I didn’t really feel.

  “The lust between him and me is a bit different. More powerful. Primal. Aggressive.”