Aleesa took her time climbing the eight steps that led to the front door of Josiah Newman’s studio. Her breaths came in short puffs, not from overexertion, as her regular workouts at the gym left her lungs plenty strong enough to take on this minor physical effort. No, it was the jangle of nerves eating through her stomach lining that was taking her breath away.
“You need to look hot, Lees,” she coached herself. “Smokin’ hot. Halle hot. Angelina hot. Tina frickin’ Turner hot!”
“What am I doing?” she turned to query the cat sprawled on the stoop next door. “On what planet am I, Aleesa Raquel Davis, a fifty-two-year-old married woman, mother of two grown boys, going to get naked in front of a perfect stranger?”
The thought paralyzed her, stopping her legs two steps from the door. Continued forward motion was not an option. At least not without some serious coaxing. She reached into her pocket, pulled out her cell phone and dialed her advice guru.
“I don’t think I can do this…what the hell was I thinking…that is, what were you thinking when you suggested this…how did I ever let you talk me into doing something that is so…so…so not me?” she said, as soon as she heard the tepid hello.
“Lees? Slow down,” Lena Macy’s groggy voice suggested, both out of concern and confusion. It was nearly 11:30 p.m. in London and she’d just drifted off into a heavy, jetlagged slumber. “Where are you? What’s going on?”
“In Brooklyn. It’s almost six-thirty. Six minutes before I’m supposed to strip down to my birthday suit in front of some guy whom I’ve never laid eyes on. Aside from my husband, my gynecologist and that freak at the pool in Puerto Rico when Walt and I thought we were alone and decided to go skinny dipping, no man has seen me naked in ten years.”
“Look, you’re beautiful. For a woman two years into fifty, your body is rocking. Hell, for a woman of any age it’s a killer. Now did you prepare like I told you to?”
“Yes. I’m waxed, exfoliated, and shined up like a new penny.”
“Good, but I’m referring to the other…”
“Yes, I’ve been masturbating damn near nonstop for the past two days. I’ve rubbed, lubricated, vibrated, and worn my poor clit practically down to a nub. And frankly, I’m not any less nervous. I’m horny as hell and so on edge that I’m hoping with everything I’ve got that this photographer is Jimmy ‘Good Times’ Walker ugly because if he’s even the least bit sexy, I’m likely to burst out in spontaneous orgasms!”
“You are certifiable. Look, getting yourself off wasn’t about calming your nerves. The idea was to make you feel sexy as hell, which you now do. Remember who you’re doing this for. And why,” Lena reminded her best friend.
“For Walter and the cover of his welcome home gift.”
“Yes, your nasty ass journal that you’ve been keeping this past year. God knows, you’ve recorded every impure thought…” Lena paused to yawn, “and fantasy you’ve had since the good doctor’s been in Afghanistan.”
“I want him to know how much I love and missed him.”
“Oh, he’s going to know all right. One quick read and he’s going to know that absence has not only made his woman’s heart grow fonder, it’s turned her into a big ole freak!
“Seriously, Lees, it’s a sweet and loving idea and deserves a great cover. I can’t think of a better model, can you?”
“Maybe Sofia Vergara.”
“That Colombian chick from Modern Family?” Lena asked, not bothering to stifle her yawn.
“Yeah, she’s Walter’s fantasy lover—the only woman he has my permission to have sex with. My free pass is that fine as hell French actor, Gilles something, the one who was naked in the first Sex and the City movie and almost won Dancing with the Stars.”
“Oh, please, like that would ever happen. Not because some other guy, actor or not, wouldn’t think you’re smokin’ hot, but because you and Walter are so in love and up each other’s behinds, that you two don’t even look at anyone else, which is pretty remarkable in this day and age.”
“Oh trust me, I look, and God knows, think about it, a lot. I can’t help it, especially since I started writing all these hot and horny fantasies. But it stops there.”
“I believe you, but, Aleesa you’re stalling, and I’m falling. Look, Josiah is the best in the business. He is fast becoming known in the photography world as the black and male Annie Leibovitz, for his trademark techniques with light and unusual poses.
“So between your boudoir photos and that nasty book of yours, Walter is going to be blown away by his hot-to-trot wife.”
“Well, fantasy and reality are two different animals. Just because I write about all that stuff, doesn’t mean I’m bold enough to actually do any of it,” Aleesa reminded her friend.
“Yeah, well rest assured, you got a bit of the exhibitionist in you and a whole lot of freak! If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have been so eager to get your sexy on with hubby in the massage room down in Puerto Rico.”
“Nobody was in the room watching us.”
“That you know of! Now, I gotta get back to sleep and you have a nasty, nudie cutie photo shoot to do.”
“Not nasty nude. Sexy…nice sexy,” Aleesa corrected while smiling broadly at the San Juan memory.
“Yeah, well take it from me, nice can turn nasty real quick like. Now, push the doorbell, already.”
“Okay, okay. Tell me I can do this, Lena.”
“You. Can. Do. This. Think sexy. Be sexy. Now, I leave you with my final two words—Veuve Cliquot.”
“So when in doubt, turn to alcohol?”
“Liquid courage, baby. Now ring the damn bell. Nightie-night.”
“Ringing!” Aleesa said in place of goodbye, grateful that her friend, despite being a rich, powerful businesswoman, and an ocean away, was there to hold her hand. She hung up her phone and immediately pushed the doorbell.
“Think sexy. Be sexy,” she muttered under her breath, repeating Lena’s words. Waiting for the door to open, Aleesa closed her eyes and tried to settle her nerves by thinking sexy thoughts. Immediately, the last time she’d seen her husband’s handsome, chocolate brown face came to mind. She had no problem conjuring up the memories of his surprise visit to San Juan. Their lovemaking at the spa had been mind blowing, largely because it was so unexpected and following such a long drought.
Standing there, her breasts began to tingle, as they’d done when Walt’s mouth had begun its happy pilgrimage down her neck, across her shoulders and toward the large chocolate nipples he told her he’d gone to bed dreaming about. He’d given each a warm tongue massage before latching on to the left breast and sucking hard. Aleesa’s hips had bucked. Walter’s lips had smiled. The nipples were still Clitina’s wake-up call.
“Hmm, I got it good,” she informed the cat as she opened her eyes. “My man is a great step-father, an amazing friend and one kitty to another, a fanfuckingtastic husband and lover!”
The cat replied with a bored yawn and lazy stretch. “Yeah, well, you wouldn’t say that if he’d licked you the way he licks me!” Aleesa sighed as her vajayjay gently clutched at the thought. After dreaming and fantasizing for so long, Walter had shown up and given her the real thing, reawakening her vagina and making her cravings stronger and more difficult to ignore. Damn, waiting for his home-coming was going to be the longest thirty-seven days of her life.
She intended to make the time go fast by staying busy. In addition to her demanding job as the Vice President of Marketing for the Sports Fan Network, she had big plans in store for the Colonel’s return. If his Caribbean visit had been sexually spectacular, his welcome home was going to be downright epic. And today’s errand was the first step toward making it so.
The sound of shuffling of feet approaching the door halted the conversation between her and the pussy next door. And as the door cracked open, she took a deep breath, knowing that there was no turning back.
“You must be Aleesa.” His buttery words floated between perfect white teeth framed in dimples deep enough to lose your inhibitions in. “I’m Josiah. Welcome. I’m all ready for you.” He opened the door wide to reveal the unlawfully good looking face and body that matched his “smooth as twelve-year-old Scotch” voice.
Aleesa swallowed a big gulp of “oh no” as her eyes went renegade and, against her wishes, thoroughly checked out the fine specimen before her. He looked to be in his early to mid-thirties and stood over six feet. He had the slim, lean musculature of a track star, and the way his jeans and untucked navy blue T-shirt clung to his body with an unspoken dare to reach out and touch, was borderline criminal. His long, thin locks were flowing free across his shoulder, giving a nonchalant sexiness to the man that left Aleesa’s nerve endings perked up and on edge.
OH FUCK! OH FUCK! OH FUCK! WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO FINE?!! Aleesa screamed at him in her head, all the while wishing she’d changed her clothes. Why hadn’t she worn the form-fitting blue dress instead of the boho chic get-up she’d thrown on at the last minute? Because if you’d worn the other, he’d know that you don’t have any bra or panties on.
But he knows that anyway, it occurred to her. He was the one who’d told her not to wear any so she wouldn’t have elastic lines on her skin.
“You okay? Here, let me take that for you,” he said, reaching for the tote bag containing her cosmetic and hair products.
“I’m fine. Thank you,” Aleesa replied, embarrassed to be caught arguing with herself. She felt the butterflies in her stomach stir. Josiah was not only good looking, but apparently a gentleman as well.
“That shade of blue looks great on you,” he complimented her as she stepped inside, noticing immediately how the turquoise color complemented her chestnut brown skin. Her ensemble was attractive and while fashion forward, completely covered up the body underneath. Josiah smiled to himself. His clients always seemed to fall into two camps—the wannabe Playboy pin-ups that arrived practically naked on his doorstep, and couldn’t wait to get started; and the quiet, reserved types who required his special brand of coaching to coax the femme fatale out of them. Aleesa Davis appeared to fall in the latter category, but only time would tell which camp she truly belonged in.
She held the chuckle in her mouth, wondering if he could really read the thoughts running through her head. She hoped not because a few of them were totally inappropriate for a married woman, especially one who was truly in love with her husband, to be having about a man nearly young enough to be her son.
“Thank you.” Nerves caused her voice to spike, giving her words a Minnie Mouse quality. She was even more aflutter now. Getting nude in front of a stranger was one thing, but getting nude in front of a fine-ass stranger whom she obviously found attractive, when she was already horny as hell, was a completely different level of intimidation.
Josiah led her down the short hallway and into a studio space that looked like it was once a living room or parlor. She followed his well-formed butt wondering if, no frantically wishing, that he was gay, but knowing instinctively that he was not.
“So based on the questionnaire you filled out online, I’ve set up three scenarios for you today,” he informed her. “And as you can see, per your request, no ‘cheesy red velour or whorehouse set-ups.’”
Aleesa looked around the room, checking out the white, claw-footed bathtub filled nearly to the rim with popcorn standing against a white background in one corner, and in the other, a beautiful mahogany chair with heart-shaped back, placed on a white fur carpet in front of sheer drapes. The chair’s back reminded her of a woman’s torso—a full bosom, tapering down to a tiny waist. Until this moment, it never occurred to her that furniture could be so sexy.
“There are only two,” she said, choosing to share her observation rather than her thoughts.
“There is a small bedroom down the hall that I use for shoots as well.”
“A tub of popcorn?”
“You said it was your husband’s favorite snack food, so I thought we’d do something fun. Trust me; it’s all going to be great. Now before we get you undressed and in front of the camera, let’s talk for a minute.” Josiah extended his arm, inviting her to sit on a chaise on the opposite side of the room. “Tell me a little about yourself, Ms. Davis.”
“Aleesa. Well, I’m married. The mother of two grown sons—Aden and Ashri, 25 and 23. I live in Montclair, New Jersey, and work in Manhattan as the Sports Fan Network…”
“Very impressive, but tell me about you—the woman. What gets the charming and lovely Aleesa Davis’s heart racing? What kind of music do you listen to? What do you like to eat? Where’s the sexiest place in the whole wide world?” Josiah asked, leaning in close like he couldn’t wait to hear her voice.
Damn this boy was good! Aleesa knew that he was just doing his job—trying to get a feel for her so he could bring it out in the photographs, but damn if it didn’t feel like she was on a date. The alarming thing was she didn’t mind as much as she probably should.
“Well, let’s see. I love the full moon, the sound of the ocean. Champagne. My favorite food isn’t actually a food. It’s a dessert. I absolutely love ice cream. Plain old vanilla bean ice cream. Simple, satisfying and yummy.”
“Oh, I get that joke. I’m a coffee ice cream man,” he added. “But I agree. I don’t need any extra cookies or candy mixed in and getting in the way.”
“Exactly,” she concurred, feeling herself relax a bit. Josiah was a charming conversationalist.
“And let’s see, musically I have pretty eclectic tastes. I’m still a lover of old school funk and R & B—Earth, Wind and Fire, The Commodores, Prince…”
“Teddy Pendergrass?”
“Absolutely. Now that boy could sing. I love me some Teddy P.”
“Before or after Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes?”
Aleesa looked at Josiah with surprised eyes. Baby that he was, what could he possibly know about these old school musicians? “I’m definitely in the solo, ‘Close the Door’ and ‘Turn Off The Lights’ Teddy fan club. But like I said, I also enjoy tango music, Latin salsa, Sade. I even like some of these new kids like Usher and Ne-Yo, and especially Maxwell. He has that same kind of smooth, sexy edge that Teddy had. Somehow, they both always manage to make me feel like they’re only singing to me.”
“Only a true master can make a woman feel like she’s the only one in the room. And hey, if you like Maxwell and Usher you should check out this British artist named Omar. I think you’d really get into him, too.”
“I will,” Aleesa replied. She quickly swallowed the millions of questions she was dying to ask. Ones that would clue her into his likes and dislikes, and give her more insight into him as a man. She hadn’t realized until now how much she’d missed having a quiet, personal conversation with an interesting companion. But any further queries about Josiah would be unnecessary and borderline inappropriate. Besides, he wasn’t interested in her. He was simply doing his job.
“And the sexiest place in the world?”
Aleesa thought for a moment, conjuring up past places she’d visited around the world. The thought that kept coming to the forefront of her memories were the rather unremarkable places she’d been when she either was inspired or was composing Walter’s stories. “Hmm… that would have to be wherever I am.”
Josiah’s eyes registered amused surprise. “I have asked that question over a thousand times, and you’re the first to say that,” Josiah informed her. Her reply impressed and intrigued him. “So what brings you into my world, Aleesa?”
“Well, I wanted to do this as a, uh…you know…gift for my husband.”
“Lucky man,” he replied with a tone and admiring look that made her think he was speaking the truth. “Anniversary? Birthday?”
“A welcome home, actually. He’s been in Afghanistan, running a dental clinic for the soldiers for the past couple of years and he’ll be stateside again at the end of May, in about a month.”
“Nice. So you’re thinking a standard, bedroom portrait?”
“Well, no. More like a book cover.”
Josiah’s eyebrows lifted, the corners of his mouth registering surprise before quickly falling back into place.
“I’ve been keeping a book…well…more like a journal…of well, you know…thoughts…” Embarrassment blushed her cheeks and kept her from continuing.
“What kind of thoughts? Fantasies?” he queried, his interest piqued. Still waters run deep.
“Uh…well…yes. You know…that I’ve had since he’s been gone. It was a way of keeping him close to me and I thought it would be a nice welcome-home surprise.”
“Like I said, he’s a lucky man.”
“Thank you, but I’m the lucky one,” she told him, truly believing her words despite being fascinated by Josiah’s full and luscious upper lip. “Anyway, my friend suggested that I do a cover shot, and recommended you. So that’s why I’m here…in your world.”
“Welcome. I’m happy to have you,” he replied, flashing his dimples at her. “So, Aleesa, tell me how far you’re willing go.”
“How far?”
“Robe? Lingerie? Full-on nude? Each is sexy and provocative in its own way. What’s most important is your comfort level. Though, if you don’t mind me asking, how risqué are your…uh…thoughts in this book?”
Aleesa could feel the flush of embarrassment mixed with arousal invade her body as she thought about the sexy and sometimes outrageous scenarios she’d written over these past months. All of her fantasies had Walter either actively participating or watching. Like the butler going down on her in the hotel in Phoenix; tying Walt up while she fucked herself on the hood of his car; masturbating in the window of the hotel directly across from Walt’s Manhattan dental office; being titty and finger fucked by the guest of honor on her apartment balcony during a birthday party; having her feet licked by her favorite salesman at the Jimmy Choo store.
Aleesa felt the tingle of her clitoris back on high alert. Even recalling the fantasies turned her on. Risqué? Maybe not for the kink and fetish crowd, but for her married and maternal self, Walt’s freak book was as blue as the sea, and hellishly racy.
“Your face says it all,” Josiah interrupted, with a flirtatious twist to his lips. “Oh, the camera is going to love you! So, since it’s for his eyes only, do we match the cover shot to the contents or give him a sexy, beauty shot to admire? Completely your call.”
Aleesa said nothing. She simply bit her bottom lip as she pondered the options. Writing about sex was so freeing, even though most of the stuff she’d scribed she’d never dare try. Still the experience of opening up her sexual imagination this year had definitely made her more curious and adventurous. She now felt that both risqué and sexy beauty were part of her sexual personality.
“Aleesa. Don’t be frightened or nervous or feel like you’re being judged,” Josiah said as he brought his head close to tell her. She knew he intended his voice to sound soothing, but the smooth timbre and tone of it only managed to further ruffle her feathers.
“This boudoir session is totally based on your desires. Every woman has her own idea of what sexy is, as well as what she is comfortable with. Don’t worry; today will be part cute, part fun, part flirty and all sexy.
“You’re safe here. I am going to take good care of you. I promise. So like you did when you wrote your book, you can drop your inhibitions and be free here as well.”
Aleesa continued to chew on her bottom lip as she looked into Josiah’s brown, almond-shaped eyes. As gorgeous and sexy as he was, and as horny but married as she felt, dropping her inhibitions and being free was definitely not an option.