It was ten o’clock on a Friday night. Simone sat inside of the fitness center, entertaining her client, Mason. Mason was the director of the center and usually planned their meetings there after-hours. Simone sat on the edge of the hot tub wearing a pink G-string and Mason stood inside the encircling pool with Simone’s thighs resting on his shoulders.
“My wife saw the present you gave me a few weeks back,” Mason announced proudly, as he walked his fingers up Simone’s thighs.Simone sighed. It’s not like it’s the first time and it won’t be the last, she thought. “Well, what did she think of it?” Simone tried not to disclose how humored she was by her remark.
“Let’s just say she didn’t like it as much as I did.”
The present Mason referred to was the hickey Simone had placed on the shaft of his penis. That was her trademark. Men from all over the Tri-City area contacted her to see could and would the pretty, petite, wavy-haired, fair-skinned doll baby pucker up her plump pink lips to perform the act that all of their friends and colleagues bragged about.
Once she proved that she could and would, if they were willing to pay her fee for the priceless experience, they became loyal customers that contacted her on a regular basis to have the “O”-shaped bruise on their genitals that they held with the same regards that bikers and gangsters held their tattoos, retouched before it faded away. It had only been three weeks since she had last provided Mason with her services and there he was, standing in front of her waiting to be retouched, among other things.
Simone liked dealing with Mason. She understood what to expect from him. He never showed up drunk or flying off of the handle as a result of hallucinogens. That was behavior she’d tolerated from the petty, low-class criminals she’d started out servicing. They would beat, belittle, and refuse to pay women in her profession after they’d romped around with them on old, pissy mattresses. Simone had paid her dues to earn the status she now held in her profession and refused to deal with that nonsense. That was one of the reasons why most of her clients were upper middle-class whites; the few that were black held the same social status. The other reason for that was they were willing to pay more money. Money that the lower-class troublemakers couldn’t afford to let leave their pockets.
Mason also referred a lot of his friends to Simone, which was good for business. Simone also liked the fact that Mason wasn’t long-winded. She could get it down as fast as she could get it up and when it was over, it was over. Mason didn’t try to stall to keep her around while he tried to have another erection. Her terms of service were, once her client ejaculated while she performed the service he’d requested, her job was done. Some of her clients had her perform one act, some paid for two or three, but after they ejaculated as the result of each service, or lost their erection, whichever came first, she was off the clock. Mason stuck to those terms. Being that Mason wasn’t what she considered to be endowed, after she finished with him, she would still be in adequate condition to service another client before calling it a night.
It was times like those that made her wish Stefan had come along. He had a way of nipping things in the bud. Although Mason was a huge fan of anal sex, he wasn’t one of her bisexual clients. She often heard him bash gays that attended the fitness center. He would go out his way to express how sickened he was by them.
Simone thought Mason might have been nervous. They had been together numerous times but, for some reason, he always seemed scared to touch her.
Simone’s legs shivered as a result of Mason’s jitteriness. She looked down at him and sighed.
“What’s wrong?” Mason asked.
“Nothing.” Simone removed her legs from Mason’s shoulders. “Come up here with me.”
Mason lifted himself up on the wall of the hot tub and sat beside Simone. Simone stood up, grabbed Mason’s hands, and pulled him closer to her. She knelt down in front of him and blushed at the sight of semen seeping from his partially erect organ. “You mean to tell me you’ve been in the pool hiding this from me all this time.”
“I wasn’t sure if you were ready for it.”
“Oh, is that right?” Simone drooled on his shaft and gently stroked it with her hand.
Mason stood up and began to slide his dick back and forth in her mouth. “That’s right; get it nice and wet.”
That’s a first, Simone thought. Usually, Mason would lay there lifeless, not uttering a single word while she did all of the work. Simone slid her hands up Mason’s thighs and onto his hips. She thrust him forward, taking him entirely in her mouth. She could feel Mason’s " "explicit" pulsate as she secured it in her mouth and gathered saliva to create a massaging motion.
Mason pressed his lips together and looked up at the ceiling. He hoped Simone wouldn’t notice the ugly faces he was making while she pleased him.
Simone slid her index finger inside Mason’s "explicit". His knees became weak and he plopped down on the wall of the hot tub. Simone followed his motion, never releasing her grip. Mason tugged on Simone’s weave and moaned at the top of his lungs as he reached his climax. He squirmed, unable to tolerate the overwhelming sensation he was being subjected to.
Simone stroked his organ with her hand to quicken his release. She almost laughed when Mason stood on the tip of his toes like a ballerina and cried out with pleasure.
“Whoo,” Mason cried out in between a series of pants. He looked back up at the ceiling and ran his fingers through Simone’s hair. “You’ve got my head spinning. If you can do all that with your mouth, I can’t wait to see what the "explicit" is like.”
Simone was puzzled. For as long as she had serviced Mason, he had never asked for "explicit". Ass was his thing. Mason loved the way she slid her hips down on his "explicit" until he fully occupied her anus and rode him like a jockey. He would want it tonight when I’m on my period; just my luck, Simone thought.
She sucked on Mason’s lip as she reached between her legs and freed her tampon into the hot tub. She straddled Mason and pushed herself down on his tool. It wouldn’t be long before he reached his climax. Simone could hear Mason’s breaths quicken as she pressed herself down on his dick harder and harder, lingering for a few seconds so he could feel the softness of her walls. In less than two minutes, Mason clutched Simone in his arms and called on the Lord.
Stefan lay in the bed with his man, Eugene. He threw his arm over Eugene’s chest and kissed him.
“Could you move over?” Eugene asked.
Stefan was fed up with Eugene’s attitude. Eugene had changed since he’d landed a job. When Eugene first came home from prison, things were wonderful. They would make love all night and sleep late into the day. Eugene would beg Stefan to let him take the condom off so he could feel his flesh. But now he didn’t even want Stefan to hold him. It was blatantly apparent that their relationship was only a ploy to help Eugene get on his feet. Now that Eugene had found a job and saved some money, he didn’t need Stefan anymore and he was ready to free himself from their relationship.
Stefan wondered if Eugene modeled the clothes he bought for him for some female when he wasn’t around. Stefan was sure Eugene was having sex with a woman in the apartment he paid the rent for. The thought of Eugene trying to impress some random chick with the things he had purchased for him made Stefan sick to his stomach.
Eugene liked females. Stefan saw the way he looked at them. Not only did he admire their beauty, he wanted to be entangled in it, he wanted a piece for himself. He’d noticed Eugene checking out the curves on his cousin, Simone, when he’d introduced them. He never brought them around one another again. He could not trust Eugene and he realized that Simone was weak.
Stefan attempted to kiss Eugene again.
Eugene pulled the covers over his head. “Come on with that. I’m tired,” he grumbled.
Life is too short for shit like this, Stefan thought. If Eugene was willing to throw away the security that Stefan provided him with over a female, then he could go right ahead. He was sure Eugene would run into some shabby whore that would fool him into believing that she was a lady. She’d be a little girl who had no clue where she was going; only what she wanted from him. She’d convince him that she was high-class when she was extremely high-maintenance. Eugene would exhaust his little savings trying to keep up with her and, when his money was gone, she would be also.
Stefan got out of bed and put on his clothes.
“Where you going?” Eugene asked.
“You’re not gonna fix me nothing to eat before you leave?”
“Come on with that; a nigga’s hungry.”
“You’ve got two hands; fix it yourself,” Stefan said as he opened the bedroom door and made his way down the stairs.
“Don’t forget the rent is due next week!” Eugene yelled.
“And don’t forget you’ve got a job now and you can pay it,” Stefan said as he slammed the front door.
© 2011 Rae
As a child Rae ran across a copy of James Baldwin’s novel Giovanni’s room. It was James Baldwin’s stirring and provocative writing style that fueled her with the passion to write. Rae spent the hours she wasn’t at school or doing household chores writing short stories and poetry.
At age twelve Rae abandoned her pen and pad and became engrossed in the drama of her hood. By age sixteen Rae was a single mother and dropped out of school to raise her newborn child.
Rae spent her twenties hopping from one job to the next, disgusted with the lack of ethics and integrity in her work environments. After resigning from her umpteenth job, receiving the news of her fiancé’s death, and awaiting a criminal trial, after not being in trouble with the law since she was a juvenile, Rae laid back in her bed replaying the events of her life over in her mind.
Feeling like she had no one to turn to, Rae turned back to her pen and pad. She decided no matter what she would accomplish her goal of being an author. But this time her writing wouldn’t include rescues and fairytale endings. She would write about the drama of urban life and incorporate scenarios regarding social and domestic issues that plague urban communities. Soon after Abnormal Lives was born.
Get to Know the Author:
1. When did you start writing, and did you always envision being an author? I start writing when I was eight years old and I’ll tell you, more than a decade has past and I still enjoy how a story can excite, shock, and expand the minds of readers. I knew I would be an author ever since the day I finished reading Giovanni’s Room by James Baldwin. I laid across the bed thinking about how emotive the novel was and that’s when the thought of being an author entered my mind. From that day forward I knew I would be an author I just didn’t know during what phase of my life it would occur.
2. Where do you get your ideas? Life, that’s where I get my ideas from, things happen in our families, personal lives, and communities every day that we are uncomfortable discussing and those are the topics I like to focus on in my writing.
Are there any particular authors that have influenced your writing? I would have to say James Baldwin and Iceberg Slim. James Baldwin’s stirring and provocative writing style instilled me with the passion to write and Iceberg Slim’s raw unadulterated voice gave me the valor to express myself freely as a writer.
4. If you had to go back and do it all over, is there any aspect of your novel or getting it published that you would change? As far as my novel goes it was originally written in the first person viewpoint after I finished writing it I read through it and realized the story would read better in third person. I wish I would have realized that from the start but if nothing else it was a learning experience. The only thing I regret doing when I was searching for a publisher is not submitting my work simultaneously instead of sending a copy of my manuscript to a publisher and waiting six months or more for them to say yay or nay before I submitted my work to another publisher. When you don’t submit your work simultaneously it gets to be a bit daunting.
5. What was your favorite chapter (or part) to write and why? I enjoyed writing the scene in chapter twelve when Paris exposed Michael by airing his dirty laundry in front of the police. Michael was a lying conniving dog and I couldn’t wait to write the scene where Paris called him out.
6. Did you learn anything from writing your book and what was it? I learned that writing a novel takes dedication, not only to your work but to your readers also. When writing a novel you want to produce an enjoyable product without jeopardizing your voice. If you’re constantly going back over your work changing things because you’re worried it will rub someone the wrong way your voice will fail to shine through. When you’re writing be yourself readers will appreciate you for it.
7. Do you have any advice to give to aspiring writers? I’m new to this so the only advice I feel confident giving is, don’t let self-criticism or the criticism of others prevent you from pursuing your dream.
Find the Author:
Web links: http://www.facebook.com/DomainRae
Link to buy at Barnes and Noble: