“Girl, I didn’t know you could sing like that!”
The Finley Sisters sat at the Metro Bar, each with a Long Island iced tea in hand. Dawn never drank alcohol on so many consecutive days, but she had no fears that her friends were turning her into an alcoholic. In two days they would be back in Texas, and she planned to go back to only drinking on special occasions.
“I’m really not that good,” Dawn said modestly. “I just like that song.”
“Stop lying!” Mona said. “You know you can sing! You tore that shit up!”
“For real,” Rene agreed. “I been in there three different times. Nobody on this boat can sing like you. Even in the variety shows, none of them can hold a candle to you. And they’re professionals!”
Dawn blushed. “I sing okay.”
“How come you’re not in your church choir?” Mona wondered.
“I wanted to,” Dawn said. “But I couldn’t never make it to their practices. I work a lot. Y’all just don’t know.”
“I got it all on camera,” Rene said. “I even got the end when everybody swarmed the stage like you were Beyoncé or something.” She laughed. “You gotta watch this video, Dawn. They loved you!”
“I’ll look at it later,” Dawn said.
“Are you embarrassed?” Mona stared into her friend’s eyes.
Dawn looked away coyly.
Mona laughed. “Girl, are you embarrassed?”
“A little,” Dawn admitted. “It’s not that big a deal.”
“It is a big deal,” Rene said. “You got talent, Dawn. You shouldn’t take that for granted. You were better than Minnie Rip–”
Dawn cut her off. “Uh-uhn! Don’t say that.”
“You need to watch the video,” Rene said. “Your voice is perfect. And you got more soul than–”
“Minnie is the best,” Dawn insisted. “I listened to her record a million times. I wanted to be just like her. But I’m not better.”
“All right,” Rene said. “But will you at least watch the video? I don’t think you know how good you are.”
“All right,” Dawn said.
Rene passed her the camcorder, but it was too noisy at the bar.
“I can’t hear it,” Dawn said. “Let’s go somewhere else.”
“We can go to my room,” Mona offered. “I need to change anyway.”
“Dang, Mona, you just changed,” Rene said. “Why are you changing again?”
“Tonight’s the night for me and Bart,” Mona said. “I need to wear something that shows off more of my legs.”
Rene looked her up and down and thought her current dress was revealing enough. “Why don’t you just strip down to your necklace and call it a day?”
“You think I’m going to take fashion tips from someone with red fingernail polish and plum toenails?” Mona shot back. “Nigga please.”
***
Dawn watched her video while Mona changed, and she agreed that she did a good job on stage. She was too nervous to add any arm movements, and she kept her eyes closed the entire time, but her singing was flawless. The crowd was eating out of her hands after the first note.
“I’m going to make you a copy so you can show everybody when you get home,” Rene said.
“Thanks,” Dawn replied, but she still didn’t look half as excited as Rene felt.
“Girl, what’s your deal? Why aren’t you happy?”
“I am,” Dawn said. “I’m just not used to all of that attention.”
“You’re not shy.”
“Yes, I am,” Dawn said. “I’ve always been like that. You and Mona are usually in the front, getting all the attention. I just chill in the background, doing my own thang.”
Rene thought for a second and realized Dawn was right. “It shouldn’t be that way. We’re all equal. You need to step up to the front more often.”
Dawn chuckled. “Everybody don’t have it in them to be in the front, Rene. That’s the way the world works. You got to have your winners, and you got to have your losers. If it wasn’t like that, everything would fall apart.”
“Hey, I don’t ever want to hear you calling yourself a loser,” Rene said. “And I didn’t invite you on this cruise so you can hang out in the background and be some kind of third leg. I wanted you to come because you’re my best friend, just like Mona.”
“You and Mona have a lot more in common.”
“Maybe so,” Rene said. “But we’ve always been a three-headed monster. Each one of us is just as important. I can do some things Mona can’t do, and you can do some things I can’t do. That’s what makes our friendship so special.”
“What can I do that you can’t do?” Dawn wondered.
“How about when you got my camera back for me?” Rene said. “That’s something only Dawn could do. Mona told me to leave them people alone.”
Dawn grinned. “Yeah. Y’all don’t have too much hood rat in you.”
“Um, and neither do you,” Rene said. “You’re more bold and assertive. I don’t want to hear you calling yourself a hood rat either.”
“All right,” Dawn said. She smiled warmly. “You always helped me be a better person, Rene. Did I ever tell you that?”
“No,” Rene said. “But it’s nice to hear. So are you ready to stop chilling in the background?”
“Yeah,” Dawn said with a chuckle.
But Mona stepped out of the bathroom, and Dawn knew she would have to linger in the shadows for a little while longer. Mona wore a black leather miniskirt with four-inch stilettos and no stockings on her long, luscious legs. Her red lipstick glistened, and this was the first time Dawn saw her with mascara on. Sexuality oozed from every one of Mona’s pores.
“Y’all ready to go?”
“Where we going?” Rene asked. “The strip club?”
“Oh, why must you hate?” Mona wondered. “I got this skirt out yo mama’s closet. You didn’t say nothing when she wore it to those PTA meetings.”
“Don’t be talking about my mama,” Rene warned.
“Don’t be talking about my mama,” Mona mocked.
“You stupid,” Rene said.
***
Rene also thought Mona’s outfit would relocate Dawn to the background, but even Mona’s super sexy legs couldn’t make the karaoke crowd forget the magic they witnessed that night. When the girls got back to the Lido Deck, people starting pointing and making comments like, “Look, it’s her!” and “That’s the one I was telling you about!”
Mona assumed this extra attention was directed at her, and she held her head up extra high. But a group of women finally approached and made it clear Mona wasn’t the only star in the Finley trio.
“Hey, can we take a picture with you?” they asked Dawn.
She frowned. “What?”
“You were awesome tonight,” one of the women said. “I never heard anybody sing that song as good as you! I took some pictures, but I wanted to get one with you and my friends. Is that all right?”
That seemed like an outrageous request, but how do you turn away admirers?
“Uh, okay,” Dawn said.
“Thanks!” The woman looked around and handed her camera to Mona.
“Can you take a picture of us, please?”
Mona chuckled, but she took the camera. Dawn posed with the strangers, still wondering if this was some kind of joke.
But it wasn’t. After Mona snapped the shot a middle-aged couple came forward with the same request.
“Can we get a picture with you, too?” They grinned wildly, like kids at Christmas.
“I didn’t do nothing but sing a song,” Dawn protested.
“And you were great!” the man said.
“You’re gonna be famous one day,” his wife predicted. “When you get big, I’m gonna tell everyone I was on a cruise with you!”
Mona was already in position for the shot, so the woman handed her a digital Sony. “Can you take a picture of us?”
“Anything for Dawn,” Mona said, with just a little sarcasm.
Dawn’s smile was as big as Mona’s ego in the second picture. She hoped everyone would leave her alone after that, but someone else shouted “Miss Minnie!” when she tried to walk away.
Dawn turned and was surprised to see a man making his way through the crowd. He was tall, about six-two, and stout, around two hundred and twenty pounds. He didn’t have a woman with him. Dawn couldn’t believe he wanted to take a picture as well.
“Hey, how are you?” he asked when he got closer. “My name is Calvin.” He stuck out a hand, and Dawn shook it. Calvin’s grip was strong, but not too tight. He wore wire-rimmed glasses and a full moustache. “I didn’t mean to call you Miss Minnie,” he said with a smile. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if that was your real name. You killed that song tonight. I never heard anyone do it better.”
“Thanks,” Dawn said. “My name is Dawn.”
“Right. I remember now, from when the DJ announced you. It’s nice to meet you.” Calvin smiled and Dawn smiled, too.
She wasn’t sure what his intentions were, but she thought he was handsome. He was older than her, maybe up to ten years, and he was a nice dresser. He wore white slacks with a black button-down tucked in neatly. His shoes had a crisp shine, and he didn’t have a gut hanging over his belt. His hair was short. His skin was dark like brown M&Ms.
“My wife sang that song at our wedding,” Calvin said, and Dawn’s heart sank. “I mean my ex-wife,” he said, and Dawn’s chest felt warm again.
“You don’t know if you have a wife or not?”
The stranger laughed. “Of course I know if I have a wife or not. I’m just not used to referring to her as my ex. We were physically separated for more than five years, but our divorce just got finalized four months ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s okay,” Calvin said.
“Why were y’all separated for so long?” Dawn asked, and she immediately thought better of it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get all up in your business.”
“It’s okay,” Calvin said, still smiling. “I’m the one who approached you. My ex-wife, Karen, she was a good woman, but she made a lot of mistakes. She was an investment broker. She made good money, but it was never enough. The woman had very expensive tastes.”
Before Dawn could ask how one loses their expensive tastes, Calvin said, “She’s in prison. Big time embezzlement scheme. And it wasn’t her first offense. They gave her fifteen years.”
“Wow,” Dawn said. “That’s messed up.”
“That wasn’t even the worst of it,” Calvin said. “I stayed with her for five years after she got locked up, until I found out she was planning to run away with her co-defendant. They bought plane tickets and everything, a lover’s nest in Florida…” He looked around and noticed Rene and Mona were watching them. “It’s a long story. She played me like a fool, but I got over it.”
“Glad to hear it,” Dawn said.
“Anyway, Karen sang that song for me at our wedding,” Calvin recalled. “I used to hate to hear it after everything that happened, but tonight you made me fall in love with Minnie Riperton all over again.”
Dawn grinned and looked away in embarrassment. “That’s sweet.”
“Would you like to go somewhere to talk?” he asked. “I can’t stay out too late ’cause I got my kids with me.”
By then Dawn was pretty sure he was hitting on her, but she wasn’t positive. No one had done that in so long, she forgot what it felt like. “You got children?” she asked as a distraction.
“Yeah,” Calvin said. “My boys are twelve and thirteen. They’re good kids, but they’ve been acting out on this boat.”
“Um, how old are you?” Dawn asked. Her face burned as soon as the question came out, but Calvin’s smile intensified.
“I’m thirty-six,” he said. “Sorry, am I too old for you?”
Dawn’s eyes widened and her jaw went slack. He is hitting on me! But that proposition was as frightening as it was exhilarating. Her heart thumped like she saw a ghost.
“No,” she said. “I’m twenty-eight. But I was, um, I was going to kick it with my friends tonight.”
“Oh, that’s okay. Maybe I’ll find you again tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Dawn said. “That would be cool.”
Calvin nodded, and then he turned and walked away. Dawn turned back to her girlfriends and they were watching her with much interest.
“Mmm-hmm,” Rene said. “What was that all about?”
“I think he likes me,” Dawn whispered.
“Why you say that?” Rene asked. Her smile was ear-to-ear.
“He wanted me to go with him to talk,” Dawn hissed.
“Why are you whispering?” Mona wondered.
“I don’t know,” Dawn said.
“Why didn’t you go?” Rene wanted to know.
“I don’t know,” Dawn said. “I was kinda scared.”
“Scared?” Rene frowned. “Dawn, what the hell are you afraid of? You need to get–”
“Hello, Mona?”
The ladies looked up and saw one of the hottest men on the ship standing before them. Bartolo Romero wore a black silk shirt with black slacks. His shirt wasn’t tucked in, and it was unbuttoned far enough to reveal a nice crease between his bronze pectorals.
“Hey,” Mona purred. She threw her arms around his neck and gave him a nice, slow hug.
When they separated, Bartolo looked her up and down and put a hand to his chest.
“Wow. Your dress. You look amazing.”
“Thanks,” Mona said. “Where’s your friend?”
“Xavier, he wanted to swim—at the pool,” Bart explained. “Me, I wanted to look for you.”
“Well, you found me,” Mona said. She snaked an arm around his waist and led him away from her friends. “Now, what are you going to do with me?”
***
Bart tried to play the slow game again that night, but Mona wasn’t having it. They had a few drinks at the Society Bar, and the chemistry between them was nearly at a boiling point.
“You are such beautiful,” Bartolo told her. He leaned with one elbow on the bar, staring deeply into her eyes, as if in a daze. His curly hair glistened under the lamplight. His unbuttoned shirt was like a tease. Each time he moved his arm, Mona thought she would get a glimpse of his nipples, but they were always barely out of sight.
“You make me very happy,” Bart said, “to be here with you.”
“You make me happy too,” Mona replied. She leaned close and kissed him on the lips. His mouth was warm, and she could taste the cognac he’d been drinking. Up close Bart smelled like Paul Sebastian cologne, with an underlying scent Mona could not place. It wasn’t a body wash or shampoo or anything artificial. Rather, it was an aroma that Bart emitted from his very pores. It was a primal scent. Animalistic.
The bartender approached and asked if they wanted another round.
“No,” Bartolo told him. “We are going to leave.” He looked at Mona. “Would you like to go dancing?”
“We can dance in my room,” Mona said. “In my bed.”
Bart’s eyes widened and then narrowed. “I would like that, Mona. I would like that very a lot.”
***
In her cabin, Mona felt confident and powerful. Bart was all over her as soon as she closed the door behind them, but he wasn’t as rough as Mona would’ve liked it. He kissed her delicately and kept his hands glued to her waist. Mona wanted him to yank her skirt up to her belly button. His tenderness was driving her crazy.
She grabbed his arms and turned him abruptly. Before Bart could react, Mona pushed his back against the wall and clawed at his shirt buttons. They were still lip-locked, but Bart said something and then pushed her away when she ignored him. He restrained her with more force than Mona would’ve tolerated with anyone else, but she wanted to get a rise out of him, so she didn’t complain.
“Stop,” Bartolo said.
“What do you mean?”
“You are too fast,” he said. “You’re too, eh…” He couldn’t come up with the word. “You’re too much like a, like a man.”
Mona frowned. “You think I act like a man?”
Bartolo’s smile was disarming. “You’re, too much rush. Do not push me. I don’t like it. That’s not, eh, like a lady…”
Mona’s frown intensified. If she didn’t know any better, she would’ve swore Bart just told her what not to do.
He kissed her forehead and softly kneaded the knot of flesh between her eyebrows with his thumb.
“Are you upset with me?”
“No,” Mona said. She smiled and kissed him back. Bart’s lips parted and his tongue cautiously slipped into her mouth. Mona closed her eyes and returned the favor. Their tongues met like thieves in the night and wrestled like mating serpents.
Mona pulled away first this time. She went to the bed and crawled across the mattress to reach the remote control on the nightstand. She turned the television on and found a station that played R&B videos. Musiq Soulchild was singing his fan favorite Half Crazy. Mona looked back and saw that Bart couldn’t take his eyes off her legs and ass. She narrowed her eyes and grinned at him.
“What are you looking at?”
“I believe it is heaven,” Bart said.
Mona crawled back to him and sat with her legs dangling over the side of the bed. Bart took a deep breath and stepped slowly in her direction. He flipped the light switch when he passed it.
“Turn that back on,” Mona said.
“Why?”
“I like to keep the lights on.”
“I do not like the lights on,” Bart countered. “The TV, it gives enough light.”
“I still want the lights on,” Mona insisted.
Bart shook his head. “No. I’m sorry, Mona. The light will stay off. It is more romantic. Too much light is like, dirty movie.”
Mona frowned again. She started to get up and flip the switch herself, but her butt remained glued to the bed. She knew Bart wasn’t going to give in, and although it went against every fiber in her being, she didn’t fight to get her way.
Bart came and sat next to her, and he kissed her again. Mona’s frown went away instantly, and she reached tentatively to undo his shirt buttons again. This time Bart allowed her to undress him. He sucked her tongue playfully and fondled her breasts.
Mona pulled away and watched his eyes when she pulled his shirt off his shoulders. Bart slid his arms through the sleeves, and Mona admired his upper body. She shook her head and sighed. Bart was young and fit; the model of anatomic perfection. His muscles weren’t excessive. They were just right, well-defined and perfect for his frame. Even with the limited light from the television, Mona could see a field of goose bumps on his arms and chest.
She kissed his neck, and Bart tilted his head to give her better access. His skin was warm, and his primal scent was stronger now. Mona licked his flesh and started to suck as she worked her way towards his collar bone. Bart worked on her blouse in the meantime. He removed it and tossed it carelessly to the other side of the bed.
His breaths started to quicken. Mona sucked her way back to his mouth and fondled an already rigid bulge in his pants while he undid her bra. When her breasts were exposed, Bart tore away from her mouth and latched on to one of her nipples. Mona threw her head back and moaned in appreciation. She cradled the back of his head and ran her fingers through his hair. Bart jumped from one nipple to the other, licking her areolas while his free hand crept between her legs. He ran his fingers across her damp panties, and Mona gasped. Her grip on his hair tightened. She thrusts her hips forward and stroked his manhood through his pants.
“Do you have a condom?” Bart asked.
“Yes,” Mona breathed. She let go of him and stretched towards the nightstand on the other side of the bed. Bart bent to take his shoes off while she retrieved the Trojan. He removed his pants and underwear as well and was completely nude when Mona turned back around.
She inhaled deeply when she saw how big he was. She reached for his manhood and a delighted smile parted her lips.
“Damn, Bart.”
He leaned back on his elbows and watched while she fondled him. “You like?”
She nodded. “Mmm-hmm.” She wrapped her fist around the shaft and stroked slowly while she tore the condom open with her teeth. Bart grew steadily beneath her hand, and he was throbbing by the time she had the contraceptive ready. Mona applied the condom herself. She stared into his eyes, and Bart lay very still, except for the rise and fall of his simmering pectorals. But he resisted when Mona tried to climb on top of him.
“No, Mona. You lay down.”
“I want to get on top,” she said.
“Maybe later. You lay down first.”
By then Mona’s brain was racing. She didn’t like the lights being off, and she didn’t like the pace or the control she was relinquishing. Not only was she more experienced than Bart, but she was older. She was used to men yielding to her in all aspects of life—especially the bedroom. It didn’t make sense that she should let some boy dictate how she got her rocks off. Even more peculiar was how Mona complied with his orders.
She lay on her back, and Bart stood and positioned himself between her legs. He pulled her skirt and panties off in one smooth motion and eased down on top of her. Mona raised her knees, but Bart didn’t go immediate for the jackpot. Instead he kissed her again. Mona kissed him back, and their tongues were soon intertwined.
Mona could feel his manhood pressing against her pubic hair, and the lack of penetration was driving her crazy. Her clitoris throbbed and ached. She sensed he was teasing her on purpose, so she tried to play it cool. But it was hard, mentally and physically.
Bart sucked her bottom lip and then kissed her neck, under her ear, and between her breasts. Mona turned and exhaled into the pillow. Her fingers were already leaving faint scratches on his back, but Bart was patient like a surgeon. He fondled her breasts and sucked her nipples again. He licked down her stomach and twirled his hot tongue in her belly button.
Mona’s hips squirmed on the mattress. She grabbed hold of his head and tried to push him further, but Bart wouldn’t budge. He looked up at her and frowned.
“What is this?”
“Kiss it,” Mona pleaded. Her labia gleamed in the darkness. She knew he wanted a taste.
Bart shook his head. “I’m sorry, Mona. But I cannot.”
“Why?”
“Do you have, eh, dental dam?” he asked. “Plastic wrap?”
Mona’s head spun, and she knew she had entered a warped parallel universe. She was being punished for all of the mean things she did to her lovers over the years. This wasn’t lovemaking, it was her reckoning.
But Bart got settled between her legs, and his offering was anything but punishment. Mona was so wet he didn’t have to reach down to guide himself in. His head was big like a plum, and the pressure made Mona inhale sharply. She gripped the sheets like she was wringing a dishtowel.
Bart pushed in slowly, stretching her walls with his considerable width. Mona threw her head back and cried out in pleasure, but also pain. He paused, and she thought he was all in, but Bart still had a few inches to go. He pushed deeper, and when he finally hit the back end, Mona thought she might pass out. Her throat caught, and she couldn’t even scream this time.
Bart looked down at her and stopped moving altogether. “Are you all right?”
Mona’s mouth hung open. Her tongue moved, but she couldn’t articulate her pleasure. She nodded.
Bart smiled and began to work his hips. “I can’t believe you finally have nothing to say,” he said with a smile.
There was so much blood rushing past her ears, Mona barely heard him.
“It is good,” Bartolo said. “I like it, like this.”
He kissed her again, and Mona’s eyes rolled to the back of her head. She came within twenty seconds of the initial penetration.
This had to be a new record.
***
Mona’s orgasm did not stop or slow Bart down. He pretended not to notice, but Mona knew he felt it. Her vagina contracted and squeezed him mercilessly, and things became fifty percent more slick down there. Bart used the extra lubrication to see how deep he could really go before the neighbors in the adjacent cabins thought someone was being murdered in there.
The Brazilian explored depths that had been neglected for years, and Mona couldn’t help from howling like a cat in heat. When she came a second time, Bart hiked her knees over his shoulders and pounded so hard Mona could feel him in her chest. Her eyes widened and she stared into his dark orbs with an almost horrified expression; wondering if he was man or machine.
When her climax subsided, Bart wiped the sweat from his face and rolled Mona onto her stomach. This was absolutely taboo. Mona hardly ever allowed a man to take her in the doggy style position because she felt that was domination at its purest.
Yet Bart put her in this position with no resistance at all, partly because Mona was too exhausted to fight against him, and also because at that point Mona knew resistance was futile. And strangely enough, Mona liked to give up control to Bart. She didn’t have to think about anything. She didn’t have to plan, and she didn’t have to manipulate. All she had to do was lay there and take the dick, and she was rewarded was the best sex imaginable. Maybe the best sex—dare she say—ever?
Bart slipped in from behind and Mona caught a second wind and threw it back at him as best she could. Bart squeezed her ass with a lot less gentleness than he exhibited twenty minutes ago, and after two more R&B videos Mona felt a third eruption bubbling within her. She held off for as long as she could, but Bart’s sex game was masterful. He timed each thrust perfectly and hit her clitoris whenever he pleased. Mona buried her face in the pillow and shrieked like a wild woman, and finally she felt Bart pulsating inside her. He grunted uncontrollably, and Mona’s legs gave in to exhaustion.
She slid to her stomach, and Bart followed her down, pushing harder the whole time. They climaxed together. And even though this was Mona’s third, it felt like her first. Bart hovered over her, supporting himself with his sinewy arms. He breathed into the back of her neck, and he clawed the mattress with his toes, trying to dig deeper still. Mona almost screamed for him to Stop! There’s no more! That’s it! But even if she had the strength to speak, she wouldn’t have said a word to dissuade him.
Mona may have been a fierce lioness, but on that night Bartolo was her lion king, and he had only to growl at her to get her to obey.
They fell asleep in each other’s arms and went at it again when they woke up at three in the morning. Bart said she could get on top that time if she wanted, but Mona declined. She sensed she would never meet another man who had mastered missionary like Bart. And submitting to his doggy style was utterly delightful, taboo or not.