A WINTER’S STORM
By
A.R. Glaster
SMASHWORDS EDITION
PUBLISHED BY:
A.R. Glaster on Smashwods
A Winer’s Storm
Copyright 2012 by A.R. Glaster
Chapter 1
Valerie thanked Rachelle, the manager of Alterations, for doing such a wonderful job repairing the three inch heel on her favorite Gucci sandals.
“You’re welcome sweetie,” Rachelle responded with a bright smile. She shook Valerie’s hand, then spun off.
“And I’ll be getting this hand bag,” Valerie told the apparently gay sales clerk, who stood behind a glass counter.
“Will that be all?” he asked politely, in his thick Indian accent.
“Yes,” she answered while handing over her platinum credit card. Valerie’s eyes perused around the expensive merchandise in the Gucci boutique as the sales clerk hummed a happy tune while ringing up the sale. Now her wandering eyes locked on the lady emerging from the elevator.
The black pants suit she wore did wonders for her to die for figure. Either Donna Karan or Liz Claiborne, Valerie thought of the outfit as she stared, in awe. In the black leather stiletto heeled boots that Valerie was sure were Gucci; the dazzling lady stood around five eleven easily. Her cappuccino mixed with honey bronze complexion seemed to glow, without any makeup.
More than anything, it was the lady’s facial structure that intrigued Valerie. The slim jaw line and artfully shaped nose with high cheek bones. Her huge, hazel eyes were confident as she strutted past with a regal aura. Valerie was reminded of Zoe Saldana, Nick Cannon’s girlfriend in the movie “Drumline,” with features that slightly resembled Lark Voorhees, Bill Bellamy’s lady in the movie “How to be a Player.” Just my type, Valerie thought, still staring uncontrollably.
The sales clerk packed her bag, watching as she watched the stunning lady disappear into the busy crowd of people walking along Fifth Avenue.
“Here you are ma’am,” he interrupted.
She snapped out of the trance, retrieved her bag, credit card and receipt.
“Thanks a lot” she said, then took off in pursuit of the rare beauty. I have to have her. Valerie thought frantically.
“Excuse me, excuse me,” she said brushing past the mobs of people walking in the opposite direction.
At the corner of Fifty-Eighth and Fifth Avenue, the lady slowed as a car accelerated through the green light then turned left onto Fifth Avenue.
“Excuse me,” Valerie said slightly out of breath as she reached the woman’s’ side.
The woman turned toward her, “Who me?” she asked with a look that was more curious than she sounded.
“Yes,” Valerie said, trying to catch her breath. “I’m sorry to bother you, and please don’t be offended but you are absolutely beautiful.”
The woman took a step back and threw a hand on her hip. The serious look washing over her face seemed to add to her beauty. “Um, excuse me, but what did you say?” she asked while rolling her eyes offensively.
“Oh no! I’m sorry, not like that. I… I mean…” Nervously Valerie started to reach into her black alligator bag, still maintaining eye contact with the woman, who now held a wary look. “I’m a fashion designer,” she managed to say while handing over her business card. Hesitantly the woman accepted it, and then said out loud, “Valerie Bradshaw the Diva of Designs.”
Looking back up at Valerie the woman gave her a small smile. “I’m sorry I took you the wrong way,” she replied.
“No, I understand. It seems strange with me approaching you like this on the street, but I’m curious. Have you modeled before?”
The traffic light turned red.
“Please, let’s cross the street,” the woman suggested, leading the way. Once across the street she seemed to think for a second.
“Sort of, why do you ask?”
“Well, I’m designing a “Summer” line of clothing that I’ll be presenting to this new urban clothing company, and I’d love to have you model the line. Of course you’ll be well compensated,” Valerie said all in one breath.
The once wary look turned playfully questioning. “Look, is this some sort of prank TV show?”
“Absolutely not,” Valerie answered with a laugh. “Seriously, I’ll pay you $500 for a couple of hours of your time, and you get to keep the clothes you wear. How about it?”
Technically my job does require some model talent, the back of her mind said. “Well, if this is for real, then I’d be delighted.”
“How about tomorrow afternoon at three you meet me at that address on my card, and you’ll see how real I am. That’s my studio,” Valerie added.
After looking at the address, the lady said, “You got it.”
“And by the way, what is your name?” Valerie asked sticking her hand out.
“Destiny,” she answered accepting the hand. Winter never gave her real name to total strangers.
“I’ll be looking forward to seeing you,” Valerie told her as they shook hands. Valerie took off back towards Fifty-fourth Street, while Winter continued on her way.
Chapter 2
Winter was in high spirits as she cruised her emerald green 325i BMW up the Westside Highway. She sang along with the chorus of Mary J. Blige’s classic “All I Really Want is To Be Happy,” blaring from the speakers.
Inside the Gucci shopping bag on her passenger seat, was a black mink and crocodile vest, given to her by Arthur, Gucci’s regional manager. The price tag boasted a whopping $9,999.
Winter showed her appreciation right there in his office, bringing him to climax in less than five minutes. My mouth game is serious, she prided herself.
Now, her mind drifted to David, the love of her life. In another year he’d retire from his chiropractic practice, but Winter wasn’t sure if she was ready to give up on her new found career. It was much too exciting and fulfilling. Speaking of which, there would be plenty of work available down in Florida. Nevertheless, Winter believed they’d get married and relocate there.
Just the thought of David made her juices flow. I’ll see him later, after handling a couple of things and it’s gonna be on, she mused. That’ll get me going for work tonight or rather early in the a.m., she thought further. The clock on her dashboard showed five p.m., plenty of time. The encounter with the fashion designer jumped into her mind. ‘I’ll give you $500 for a couple of hours of your time, and you can keep the clothes you wear.’ What a wonderful life, Winter thought as she pressed the button on the radio, changing to her favorite CD. Destiny Child’s “I’m a Survivor” started to play as her car entered the Lincoln Tunnel, heading to Jersey.
Chapter 3
After hitting the gym’s shower and quickly getting dressed, Summer packed up her exercise gear. She and four of her clients walked downstairs to the parking lot together.
“See you guys Saturday,” she called after them as everyone headed to their respective cars. They all answered with a wave and a few chuckles, saying something Summer couldn’t hear clearly.
Summer dipped into her silver Audi TT, smiling to herself. Today was Thursday. With the exception of a two hour group session on Saturday with all twelve of her clients, she was off until next Wednesday.
Her clients worked for Urban Legend Beauties Inc. a subsidiary company to the Urban Legend Co., which was formed by Brittany Cates, a former swimsuit model and Rasheed Glaster, Urban Legends’ President.
Summer was the personal trainer for the women, and loved every minute of her job. She kept in shape, and got paid well for it. Last year during the interview for the job, she was offered a job as a model. When it came to looks and body, Summer had most of the models beat. She declined politely; flattered that she got the offer.
“My profession is physical training,” she told Brittany.
Normally, she trained all twelve women three days a week in a session that was mandatory unless they were working a photo shoot like this evening, which was why there were only four of them present.
Driving along Washington Street in Hoboken New Jersey, Summer sang to the beat of Alicia Key’s “The Element of Freedom.” She was excited. The love of her life, her husband Frank would be home on Saturday, around noon. He had four days off and she had plans for every minute of the time she’d get to spend with him.
After leaving the Air Force five years ago, Frank became a pilot for American Airlines; a great job with lots of perks. One of the few things Summer disliked about it was that Frank was sometimes away for as long as three weeks at a time. But when he was home, they made their time together count. It seemed as if the time apart did a lot to keep their marriage strong. It was a great way to give each other personal space, they joked optimistically.
Within minutes Summer was driving up Washington Blvd., looking forward to baked turkey chops and steamed vegetables for dinner, with her favorite DVD, “The Best of Martin.”
Summer lead a simple life. The only people she associated with outside of work were her husband and Mary. Tonight she planned to be in bed sleep by nine.
Chapter 4
Her work was done for the night and Winter felt kind of revived. It was almost eleven pm, she was heading south on the Parkway. Winter tuned off on Exit 135, entering Clark New Jersey, a quiet suburban town. Ten minutes later she turned into David’s circular driveway and parked behind his blue Lincoln Town Car.
The light was on and she could see into the entire family room. No sign of David. Winter could feel the tingle inside. She hurried out the car, up to the bullet style oak door with the lights on both sides. Just above the door handle was a small black box which she flipped open, then placed her right thumb on the surface so it could read her thumb print. One of David’s security measures.
The alarm quietly disabled. She entered the foyer with its impressive twenty foot ceilings.
Off to the right was the sitting area; furnished with off white/beige leather love seat and chair with ottoman. To the left was the family room, also boasting a twenty foot vaulted ceiling, and a stunning wall of windows, complete with a fire place. A brown fabric four piece living room set and two glass tables were strategically situated throughout the house.
A state of the art kitchen made cooking a pleasure; and two bathrooms completed the downstairs. Winter saw that both sitting area and living room was empty.
The oak staircase in the left corner of the family room led to the master bed and bathroom, two guest rooms and another full bathroom housed on the second floor.
Winter walked past the staircase to a room that held a handsome Bordeaux colored wet bar with a granite counter. There she found David sitting on one of the stainless steel bar stools with the black suede cushion.
In his had he held a glass of Jack Daniels Black Label. His light blue dress shirt was unbuttoned, showing off the wife beater underneath. He smiled when he saw her lifted his six foot three inch, medium built frame up from the stool. He was handsome – Winter felt he looked like Keith Sweat - and his toned physique fooled people into thinking he was much younger than his fifty-two years. She could testify to his stamina.
Winter stopped in her tracks, and slowly peeled off her suit jacket. Without losing eye contact, she just as slowly began unbuttoning her white shirt.
David downed his drink in one gulp as he watched.
“How is my baby girl?” he asked in his soothing, Billy Dee voice.
Winter was stood, topless and beautiful, showing off her perky breasts. It had been a week since they last saw each other. She was aching for him, and he for her. Still in striptease mode, she inched her pants down until they reached her ankles, then stepped out of them.
Her body is flawless, he thought staring at her hungrily.
“How is my daddy?” she whispered, slowly walking toward him while running her own hands up her ribcage to lightly cup her breasts. She stood on her toes to kiss him. The kiss started out light and teasing, but quickly became deep and passionate.
David’s hand replaced hers on her breasts, caressing her hardened nipples, before sliding over her soft shoulders, down her back and then around to her playground. She opened her legs, so his fingers could explore her wetness.
“Be a good girl for daddy,” he whispered in her ear, then licked down the nape of her neck.
“Ummm!!!.” She moaned as David’s index and middle finger plugged inside her tunnel, making sloppy and wet slurping sounds. “Yess!!!,” she moaned through their kiss.
Winter threw her head back as his wet tongue glided across her nipples. At the same time she rotated her hips in a circular motion, while David’s fingers dug deeper. The middle one he flicked back and forth. His index finger rubbed slowly up the front wall of her gushing wet vagina.
Winter couldn’t take it any longer. She wanted to taste him. She held his love stick in her hand, stroking gently and slowly, while easing back, so his fingers could slide out. Winter stared into his eyes as she dropped to her knees, and slid her mouth down on David’s thick ten inch pole. Her tongue moved from side to side, penetrating the vein running down the bottom of his shaft as she pushed her mouth down further.
David let out a guttural moan “Aaaah!!!” Winter bobbed and weaved while caressing his nut sack with her left hand. He grabbed the sides of her free flowing hair, and then stroked into her mouth, making her gag.
Winter could tell he was about to cum. She came up for a breather, licking the head and around it still jerking him slowly.
“Give it to me daddy,” she begged as she deep throated him. Winter kept her eyes on him as he plopped down on the stool. She stood on her knees, bending forward with her hands planted on David’s thighs. She was bobbing up and down, faster and faster.
David rested his arms on the granite topped wet bar, enjoying the oral sensation. As he gripped the sides of her hair tighter, he reached his point.
“Uh, uuh, Aaaah,” he exhaled.
Winter moaned approvingly when the warm liquid hit her tongue, sliding down her throat. Her mouth pulled harder, draining David of every drop of his protein. He sat gasping for air while she walked behind the wet bar to the mini refrigerator. She reached around from behind and put an ice cube to his lips. David knew the routine all too well took the ice cube into his mouth.
Over to the right of the wet bar, was a Brunswick showpiece pool-table, sitting on its ball-in-hand legs. He watched Winter head in that direction. David slid off his pants and boxers, before following. Not a word was said; instead their bodies spoke to one another, yearning.
Winter was already mounted on top of the pool table, propped on her elbows, with legs fully spread.
David twirled the ice cube in his mouth as he approached her Brazilian waxed love box. He placed one hand on the edge of the pool table as the other was used to spread open her vaginal lips, exposing her stimulated clitoris. Greedily his cold tongue lurched forward on to it, sucking and licking
“Oooh Baby!!!,” she blurted. Winter pushed herself onto his mouth as he licked from bottom to top, slowly gently, and harder. Boy! Did he know her spots. “Aaah ye-yee-yeesss!!! “I’m cumming,” she whined, grinding his mouth faster.
Not yet, David thought. He stopped to pop out another ice cube from the tray, watching her pant with desire and anticipation of what they both knew was coming.
David was hard again. Winter inched closer as David held the ice in his hand rubbing it over her breast. With his free hand, David guided his swollen muscle into her throbbing pussy.
“Yesss Daddy”!!! she wailed as his rod filled her aching hole. He now forced the ice into her mouth as he gripped her hips. She matched his strokes as he pounded faster and faster.
After thirty non-stop hard and fast strokes, they climaxed together and David collapsed on top her. They laid there speechless, breathing heavily.
“I missed you,” she whispered.
Chapter 5
Almost an hour later and after a steaming hot shower, plus another passionate orgasm together, Winter stood in the kitchen, where peach colored Italian ceramic tile covered the floor with a matching granite topped center island, and the gas burner in the middle. The kitchen was complete with stainless steel appliances, and subzero refrigerator that matched the remarkable cabinetry work.
On the stove were four Italian sausages, with red and green peppers, chopped fresh garlic simmering in olive oil to make a clear sauce. Next to it was a pot of boiling water for the linguine. A bottle of Merlot sat on the counter with two glasses.
Winter was in a short, black silk robe cooking. David occupied a high chair wearing a burgundy terry-cloth robe.
“So how was the convention?” Winter questioned, stirring the simmering food. She knew every year they held a convention for the Chiropractors Association in California.
David ran a hand over his bald head. “The same doctor stuff. I would’ve rather spent the time with you,” he answered sincerely. Sucking her teeth and smiling, she replied “Get out of here. You can’t fool me with that mister”. David was a real charmer.
“Honestly, whenever I’m away from you for more than a couple days I get love sick,” he answered.
“Aaaww,” Winter leaned over to kiss him. “I love you,” she added.
“I love you more,” David shot back.
“Please hand me that box of linguine,” she told him. Glancing at the microwave clock, she saw it was just after midnight.
“Mmmm, maybe we’ll have time for another round, before I leave for work,” Winter gave him a sexy smile.
One of the reasons she loved David so much was that he understood her better than anyone, and always supported her, regardless. Even with her new career move, he understood. No matter what, he loved and wanted her deeply.
Chapter 6
She was laid in the bed across from her sister, hoping he wouldn’t come in and bother her again. Last night he made her jerk his penis until sperm came out shooting all over her pajamas. This has been going on for the past two weeks, as soon as his wife left for her midnight shift at the hospital. She wanted to tell on him, but she was too afraid that they’ll be placed back in foster care, so she kept quiet. She couldn’t understand how her sister kept sneaking out of their room to go with him. “Do he be touching you?” she asked.
“No!!!” her sister demanded, but she knew it was a lie. One night he came in the room and her sister crept out with him. They thought she was sleep. A few moments later, she snuck up to his bedroom door listening. She could hear her sister moaning.
Her room door cracked open. She pretended to be sleep until he sat down and pulled the cover back. He made the motion for her to be quiet while sliding his hand under her gown, sliding her panties to the side. She closed her eyes shivering with fear, as he forced his fingers inside of her.
“Stop!!!” Summer yelled, jumping out of the terrible nightmare drenched in sweat. She sat up breathing heavily. The bed side clock read five thirteen a.m.
Summer got up and dragged herself into the bathroom heading for the medicine cabinet. She needed her medication. The nightmares haunted her at least three times a week. In actuality Summer wasn’t having crazy dreams, it was a part of her current existence. Looking in the mirror, she noticed that something was strange. Frightened, Summer realized she was standing in a hotel bathroom. She scared herself. This was bad.
Chapter 7
By noon, Summer was leaving out of the high-rise condo building at 10 Huron Place, feeling as if a load had been lifted off her shapely shoulders.
“You have kept a lot of anger and frustration built up inside of you for too long,” Dr. Weiss, her psychiatrist told her. “Plus, you have some resentment toward yourself. That is very unhealthy for someone in your condition, a bi-polar schizophrenic with Borderline Personality Disorder. The dreams will always come because they are actually your memories, so try to think of pleasant things prior to going to bed.”
“Sometimes my mind just snaps and I lose it,” Summer told her doctor. “Mostly when I’m alone I’ve realized,” she added. “On occasion someone was present to witness my strange behavior,” Summer said. “And that was my husband,” she lied. “Twice it happened in the last month. The other time was at work. My mind just took over,” She went on to tell the doctor. “I’m telling you, it’s like I became a different person on both occasions. My mind was going in and out,” Summer added.
“We are only beginning to understand the causes of BPD,” the doctor explained. “As in most mental disorders, no single factor explains its development. Rather multiple risk factors, which can be biological, psychological, or a social play role in its etiology. The biological factors in BPD possibly consist of inborn temperamental abnormalities. Impulsiveness and emotional instability are usually intense in patients, and these traits can be genetic. Similar characteristics can also be found in close relatives of patients with BPD,” the doctor added, causing Summer to think about Winter.
Summer sat listening intensely as the doctor went on.
“Research suggests that the impulsiveness that characterizes BPD might be associated with decreased serotonin activity in the brain. The psychological factors in this illness vary a great deal. Some border line patients describe highly traumatic experiences in their childhood, such as physical or sexual abuse. Others describe severe emotional neglect. Many borderline patients have parents with impulsive or depressive personality traits. However, some patients report a fairly normal childhood. Most likely any of these scenarios are possible. Borderline pathology can arise from many different pathways. The social factors in BPD reflect many of their problems of modern society. Summer, we live in a fragmented world in which extended families and communities no longer provide the support they once did. In contemporary urban society children have more difficulty meeting their needs for attachment and identity. Those who are vulnerable to BPD may have a particularly strong need for an environment, providing consistent expectations and emotional security, however most likely BPD develops when all these risk factors are present. Children who are at risk by virtue of their temperament can still grow up perfectly normal, if provided with a supportive environment,” Dr. Weiss expressed reassuringly.
The doctor removed her glasses and sat them on her desk.
“Borderline
personality disorder is an illness of young people,” Dr. Weiss
explained. “Usually it begins in adolescence or youth. About eighty
percent of patients are women. If left untreated, BPD is usually
chronic and severe problems can continue for many years. About one
out of ten patients eventually succeed in committing suicide,
however, the ninety percent who do not kill themselves may become
homicidal.”
Dr. Weiss ended with much emphasis.
Summer couldn’t believe her ears. Still she sat quietly, listening.
“Becoming homicidal is attributed to how a person with BPD views relationships. Their perception of relationships can be so unstable that a friend, lover or family member can become an enemy over an ordinary disagreement. BPD occurs in about a fraction of one percent of our population,” the doctor said finally. “And time lapses are common as well,” she added.
Dr. Weiss prescribed Summer something additional to what she was already taking. “This will help,” she assured. “Take them three times a day, preferably after meals,” Dr. Weiss ordered.
For forty-five minutes Summer relived parts of her childhood with the doctor.
“Tell me about the times before you and your sister were placed in foster care. Start with when you found your mother in her bedroom, dead from a drug over-dose. How old were you?”
Summer lay on the chaise, closed her eyes and relaxed. She began to think back to when she was nine years old. “You’re not crazy, you just went through a terrible ordeal,” she reassured herself.
Summer turned right off of Kennedy Boulevard, onto State Highway. I have time to stop at the pharmacy to fill this prescription; she thought.
Summer began to feel comfortable talking to the doctor after her second visit, but not enough to tell her that she woke up in a hotel at five this morning, and had no idea how she got there.
Summer knew for sure she fell asleep in her own bed last night, and was really bothered by this.
Chapter 8
The late April spring weather called for a sunny and clear sky, with mild sixty-seven degrees. Winter had on her black leather Gucci blazer that hung slightly past her waist, of black suede Gucci pumps, with their trade mark G’s in black embedded throughout the shoe, complete with black a Gucci shoulder bag. All presents from Arthur.
A pair of tight, faded blue jeans that were neatly ripped showed off her ass in the best way. Underneath the blazer she wore a light grey wife beater.
The only make-up she had on was the Molten Metal, liquid eye shadow and Revlon lipstick. Other than eye liner every now and then, the only makeup Winter wore was eye shadow and lipstick . Her hair was drawn into a neat ponytail.
It was exactly three pm by her watch, a Luce that sparkled with forty-six rare, white diamonds, set in a stainless steel case with black band, by Patek Philippe. A present last year from David for her twenty-eighth birthday.
Winter stood on eleventh Avenue, in between twenty-third and twenty-fourth Streets in Manhattan, in front of a four story warehouse type building and looked at the address on the card.
“This is it,” she said to herself as she walked into the small lobby, smiling at the female security guard behind the desk.
“How may I help you?” the older Spanish woman asked.
“Yes, I have an appointment with Valerie Bradshaw,” Winter replied. “
“One second please,” the lady reached for the phone. Winter looked around the lobby, thinking about work last night, and how much fun she had. Winter loved the new job. It was fulfilling and she got to do what she as good at. The money was just an added pleasure.
“The elevator is to your right ma’am,” the security guard’s voice interrupted Winter’s thoughts. “You want to go to the fourth floor,” she added.
“Thank you.”
On the fourth floor, the elevator opened up to about two thousand square feet of space that was filled with photography equipment, a small runway and several back-drops. Winter was in her element.
“Hey!” Valerie called, leaving the couple she was chatting with. “I’m so glad you made it,” she said shaking Winter’s hand.
“It’s my pleasure,” Winter replied still admiring the scenery.
“I forgot to mention that you’ll be posing in front of some people and I hope you don’t mind. Everybody this is Destiny, the fabulous young lady I’ve been telling you about. Destiny, this is Joenni Astacio and Tia Taylor.” Everybody exchanged greetings and shook hands.
“Ms. Taylor here heads the company’s new, urban ladies apparel division, and Mr. Astacio is the director of marketing,” Valerie informed her.
Winter saw that the man couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She continued to smile at him.
“Please excuse us,” Valerie said pulling her off to the side. “I don’t know how much exposure you’ve had as a model, so here’s a crash course, Just in case. Don’t be nervous and be yourself.”
This is a piece of cake, Winter thought to herself. There’s nothing like being watched, she thought further.
Valerie held Winter at arm’s length, spinning her from side to side. She was even more beautiful than Valerie remembered from yesterday. “You are a natural. You’ll do fine. Now, follow me.”
Valerie pulled Winter across the room, then behind a partition that blocked Joenni and Tia’s view of them. There was a long table where all the pieces she was to model were laid out in the order she was expected to wear them.
“I’ll be photographing, so start getting changed,” Valerie said with a wink, then trialed off back where Joenni and Tia were now seated.
Valerie wasn’t able to pull together a full scale presentation like she wanted to because of the short notice. These were pieces she had designed a couple of months prior. She had been working on a proposal for some potential investors to start her own line when Tia had contacted her with an offer, referred by one of Valerie’s former clients.
“Seduction” by Valerie Bradshaw; it had a ring to it. If they liked her work, they would begin production and her designs would hit stores by early June. Valerie stood next to her camera equipment, next where Tia and Joenni sat in anticipation.
Chapter 9
Winter walked out of the building, heading to her car, which was parked in the garage on twenty-second Street, close to the Westside highway.
She was feeling glamorous. First, she modeled - strutted would be a more accurate description - in a pair of blue jeans that were perfectly cut to suit her curves (look-out Apple Bottom). The word “Seduction” was written in pink calligraphy across the back pocket. A cute white short sleeved shirt that tied on the sides showing off her stomach, with the saying “So Seductive” written in the same style as the pants completed the outfit.
The next outfit was a dark blue denim, tennis skirt. The top Winter wore with it was a simple sleeveless see through cream linen button-up that tied at the stomach and stopped just above her navel. She had already decided to rock that outfit during Memorial Day weekend in South Beach. She always made a killing down there.
Different style Capri’s followed, all with lovely tops. She ended her show wearing white terry-cloth shorts that left nothing to the imagination, and a white cotton bikini top, with a colorful airbrush design of a rainbow on the breast cups. It made Winter look trashy and she loved it. Judging from the way Joenni Astacia looked at her, he loved it too. He was a hot, young executive and in any other setting Winter would have bagged him, despite her thing for older men.
Since she pocketed
seven hundred fifty dollars for an hours’ worth of her time,
Winter considered it time well spent; especially when her normal
rate was five hundred.
“The extra two fifty is because you were outstanding,” Valerie said. Then there was the three thousand dollar check from last night’s shoot, which only took an hour and thirty minutes because she nailed it in one take. Winter’s life was sweet and things just kept getting better.
Chapter 10
Winter stopped at the attendant’s booth and slid the man her ticket. The tall skinny white man snatched her keys off the rack.
“Twelve dollars,” he told her.
Winter reached into her bag for her wallet.
“Keep the change,” she told him, handing him a twenty.
Up on the third level, Winter found her car. She thought about how excited Valerie was.
“Thank you,” she said, for what seemed to be the twentieth time.
“Listen I can throw some work your way. Do you have a manager?” Valerie asked.
“Thanks, but I manage myself,” Winter answered proudly. “But, I could see the work,” she added.
Why not pursue traditional modeling; especially being that this didn’t require much effort, Winter thought further.
“I’ll be in contact,” Valerie assured her.
Winter got her car started, slapped it in reverse then accelerated cutting the wheel harder to the left.
Chris drove up the ramp to the third level. Turning left he saw a spot four cars ahead and on his right and headed towards it. Suddenly he shouted, “Watch it!” as another car backed into his. “Shit!” he muttered as he got out the car.
“Oh shit!” Winter said out loud, and then covered her mouth knowing she should have checked her rear view. She saw a man stepping out of his Mercedes saying something, obviously cursing her out.
Chris walked around the front of his black CLS 500 Mercedes to assess the damage. It wasn’t bad, he saw a cracked light.
“Damn women can’t drive worth shit,” he mumbled as he watched the lady climb out of her seat. Instantly, he was awe struck.
Winter approached the man with the sorriest look she could muster.
“I’m so sorry,” she said looking at him, then down at her rear bumper. Her light was cracked also, and the bumper was scratched. Luckily both vehicles only had minor damage.
Chris mood changed quickly, “Oh, hey listen,” he said chuckling. “What the hell, mistakes happen, right?”
Winter gave the man a once over. He was in a sharp suit, white shirt, burgundy tie and burgundy shies. Suspenders peeked out from under his suit jacket. He was tall, light skin with a low cut, and was on the stocky side, and Winter could tell he had money. His ring finger showed he was married; just her type.
Winter turned on her act. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “How careless of me,” she said batting her smiling eyes. Before he could speak she added, “I’ll grab my paperwork.
He was in a trance, induced by the Vera Wang Veil, Eau de Perfume. Chris knew the scent well. Breaking him out of the spell was the sight of her ass as she leaned into her car.
“Ok” he said in a low voice as she walked to her driver’s door. Don’t bother, he started to call out, but was silenced by a serious spread as the exotic looking lady bent forward. No need to stop this beautiful view, the thought, while slipping off his wedding ring. On her way back, he spoke first.
“Look Miss, it’s just a cracked light and a scratch. Let’s say we call it even, if you let me buy you lunch,” Chris suggested, smiling.
Winter held out her paperwork, smiling now. She knew she had that dominating effect. Chris didn’t know he was in for a treat. Her pussy was throbbing already. “Okay, but under on condition,” she replied.
“You name it,” he answered quickly, yet composed. She’s sexy as hell, his mind whispered. Mid-twenties at the most. Chris loved younger women.
“You let me buy,” she offered in a real sensual tone.
“I’ll drive,” he said.
Chapter 11
“Mrs. Cureton your son has what’s called Levo Scoliosis, which means his spine curves to the left. The good news is that it’s easily treated, especially at his age,” David explained to the anxious mother. “Come on young fellow,” David said helping him down form the exam table. “Well get you on over to the next room.”
“Thank God it’s nothing serious,” his mother stood, sighing in relief.
David opened the door, peeking out and tapped on the door next to his.
“Let’s go,” David said pulling Terrance’s hand and swinging him over to the next room.
“Thank you doctor,” Mrs. Cureton said.
“It’s my pleasure,” he responded, then walked back into the exam room, shedding his white lab coat. David threw on his black blazer over his smoke grey cashmere turtleneck. Grey plaid wool slacks hung nicely over his black leather Kenneth Cole square front shoes.
He was done working for the day. The only appointments left were fittings for or those picking up back braces. “I’ll see you on Monday,” he called to Cassandra, the woman who kept his office running smoothly.
Within minutes, David was cruising up Avenue C in Bayonne, heading to Long Island. He turned up turned up the volume on the song playing on 98.7 kiss FM’s Friday afternoon mix. Bell, Biv Devoe’s “tell me when will I see you smile again” soothed his mood as he drove along, looking forward to seeing Nicole, a thirty-five year old knock-out, that he’d been seeing secretly for the past year.
David lied to Winter about being at Chiropractor’s convention. He was in California, but instead of business, it was purely a pleasure trip for seven days with Nicole, scheduled to coincide with her vacation.
Nicole was a day trader, and also ran a successful advertising business in her spare time. Her mother was a first generation in America from Germany. Her father was from St. Dominique, a Caribbean Islander. Her mixed heritage gave her an exotic beauty, but the curves were strictly from her Island family.
She and David planned to marry in St. Thomas was planned in three months. By then he would have financial affairs squared away.
With his wife Mary being a certified nut, David had financial and medical power of attorney for her; legal power to make decisions regarding her money and her medical treatment. It was well deserved.
“After all, I am responsible for almost a third of our collective $4 million dollar net worth” he reasoned out loud, fighting with his conscience. “Then there’s the practice, another $2 million dollars if I sell it to Duane.”
At times David wished he hadn’t had to resort to those extremes but the marriage just fell apart. Things had gotten out of hand with his relationship with Winter. To deny the fact that his wife was suspicious would’ve been foolish.
David couldn’t resist younger women. Winter would’ve denied their relationship, but, that got damn Summer would’ve thrown him to the wolves, he was sure.
A divorce would’ve followed, and he couldn’t stand the blow from a divorced settlement which he was sure Mary would’ve won. He had to cover his ass, which was why he went along with Winter’s plan.
That’s just the way the ball bounces. He knew his wife wasn’t at fault; it was his inability to be faithful, coupled with his lust for younger women. Mary was only guilty of growing old. She did her best to stay beautiful for him, and at forty-two years old she was a knock-out. Right up until she got committed to the psychiatric hospital. David didn’t hate Mary, he was just no longer attracted to her.
Then there was the fact she couldn’t have children; that had always been an issue with him. She lost four babies over a fifteen year period. All at around her fifth month of pregnancy, and the last one was still born. She was forty years old during that pregnancy, eleven years ago. That last one was the beginning of the end for Mary.
David switched his thoughts back to Winter as he cruised over the Verrazano Bridge listening to Rick James hit “Just a taste of love.” Winter is undoubtedly the best fuck he’s ever had. He had created a nympho, if there ever was one.
Still, she wasn’t Nicole who was beautiful, successful and feisty. The perfect woman in his eyes; for now, anyway.
David knew he had a healthy appetite for different women, younger of course but, he convinced himself that he could live the rest of his life with Nicole however; he had to admit he was going to miss Winter, greatly. He had a perfect chick to help him get over it.
For the time being he’d keep Winter tagging along, until he made his exit. Retirement. David had put in his hard years of work and looked forward to a life in the Caribbean sun with his new beautiful, soon to be wife, for the rest of their lives.
“Just the sweet taste of love would be so nice “Rick James sang.
Chapter 12
The restaurant was a nice Italian place, dimly lit with a soothing atmosphere in the village, not too far from Winter’s place. She and Chris sat in a secluded corner, getting better acquainted while enjoying their second glass of Chardonnay.
“The food was excellent,” she complimented, after devouring the cinnamon and raising glazed duck, with garlic vegetables over rice pilaf.
Chris had ordered the chicken française with creamy spinach. “Yes, I come here quite often,” Chris replied.
“And it’s affordable,” Winter answered, running her game.
“Forget about paying. I agreed to that, just to lure you to have lunch with me,” he shot back.
“No!” she said, quickly. “I insist on paying. It’s the least I can do for being so careless.” At that point she had reached across the table, placing her hand over his, and at the same time, staring hypnotically into his eyes. That’s when she noticed he had taken off his wedding ring, t she wondered when he managed to do that without her noticing.
“I’m not taking no for an answer,” he insisted. “And because I enjoy your company so much, I’ll save you the hassle with your insurance people,” he replied all the while holding her stare. “When you get an estimate on the damage, I’ll cover it. That way it’s a guarantee I hear from you again,” he added, being straight forward.
Boy!!! Did she love his straight forwardness. Winter slipped a foot out of her shoe, then ran it up Chris’ leg. She felt him grow an instant erection.
From there the conversation varied. She learned that he was fort-two years old, and an entertainment lawyer for a couple of celebrities. Winter decided to cut to the chase.
“Who’s the special lady in your life?” she asked him.
“I’m married unsuccessfully,” he answered, flatly. She commended him for his honesty.
When it was Chris turn, he asked, “What do you do for a living? Besides running into people.” He winked at her, his smile returning.
“Cute,” she laughed. “I model.”
“And how did you get the name Spontaneous?”
Winter almost forgot, that she had given him an alias, especially since he didn’t accept her paperwork at the accident sight. “Well, because it defines who I am.”
“Elaborate for me, if you will,” he leaned forward, fascinated by everything about her.
They had finished the bottle of Chardonnay and were sipping coffee. Winter was feeling nice. She did everything in her power to stop herself from saying, I want to fuck your brains out. Winter had a huge sexual appetite, and was off schedule. Her work phone had rung twice during lunch, but she didn’t answer. Instead she turned it off, not wanting to be disturbed. Chris didn’t know it but he was in for a ride.
“Because I’m open and spur of the moment type of woman,” she said finally, answering his question.
Then all of a sudden Chris had waved for the check, after checking his watch. “I’d better get going,” he said. “Do you mind if I put you in a cab to get back to your car? I have something important to handle,” he lied. Well not actually. He was supposed to meet his wife at four-thirty, but detoured here. Now, he would stop and pick up two tickets to a play, “The Color Purple,” then they’d end the night sailing up the Hudson river. That’ll make his wife happy, he knew.
Whoa!!! Winter thought, confused. After all the strong body language; when she caressing his crotch with her foot she felt him grow hard. Winter had given him every sign. Any man in his right mind would’ve accepted the unspoken offer. This was a bruise to her ego. Then Chris left her with his office number. Not even a cell number.
“You can reach me there, during business hours. You understand,” he had told her.
Winter understood clearly and was insulted.
“Sure,” she replied trying to compose herself.
Chapter 13
The whole cab ride to her car, and during the drive to her loft apartment on Fourth Street, Winter thought about how cocky Chris was. Nobody ever turned her down. Yes! That’s how she took it. The nerve of him! Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her door buzzer. Brian, a client, she thought, still pissed off about Chris. Winter buzzed him in.
This was work. Chris was personal. He started out as a potential client, but she grew to like him over lunch. That, to her made the difference. When it was work, it was formal. A job. When it was personal, the affections were real, and she hadn’t been personally attracted to anyone in a long time. Outside of David, that is. Sure, there were plenty of handsome men in her circle, but those were “Johns.” Attitude, cockiness, a challenge is what turned her on in a man. Chris had presented just that. He had played hard to get, which was an unusual circumstance for her. The shoe was normally on the other foot.
Winter opened the door before Brian could knock. He stood there smiling at her, staring. She had on Red lace, boy shorts, matching bra with red thong sandals on her feet. Brian loved Red.
He stepped in and stood to the side so, she could close the door. Brian was in his mid-forties and a bit on the heavy side. Pock marks covered his pale white face. He had a receding hairline, nearly to the middle of his head, with short hair on the sides, and he wore thick glasses. Brian was wealthy as shit though; president of a computer software firm in Manhattan.
Winter met him at a sex store. He was buying porn, and she was buying a toy. Brian rarely ever said a word, he just wanted action.
She slid up on him, grabbing his pudgy, clammy hands as she placed them on her ass. “You miss me Brian?” she asked while nibbling and breathing into his ear.
He nodded his head yeah.
Winter begin to rub his small penis through his khakis. “Let’s get started,” she said pulling him over to where her dancing pole and platform was, in the middle of her place. A small bar and two stools sat right next to it.
Brian occupied a stool while she poured him a shot of Paul Mason brandy.
Winter turned on some music, then took the stage and started her pole act. Brian edged his eye glasses close to his face, then downed the shot without ever taking his eyes off Winter
After working the pole for ten minutes, she strutted over and gave him a lap dance, grinding while slowly peeling off her outfit. When she was completely naked, she pulled Brian over to her king-size bed.
Winter climbed on the bed on all fours. Brian enjoyed back shots the most, she knew. She pulled the silver bullet dildo from under her pillow and lay on her back. Winter toyed with herself, using her fingers first. Thinking about Chris made her excited.
Now, she shoved the nine inch bullet inside, slowly. “Ummm,” she moaned.
Brian loosened his tie dropped his khakis and briefs then started to masturbate.
With the bullet inside of her, wishing it was Chris, she reached climax. Winter moaned accordingly “Ohhh!” she kept up the slow motion, still picturing Chris pumping slow and hard. This brought on another one, stronger. “Oooohh!!!”
Brian loved to watch her use the dildo on herself. He had jerked himself to climax, just as her second once came.
What a weirdo, but his money was green, and that’s all that mattered. Probably the easiest five hundred she ever made. And Brian was faithful. He came to see her every Friday.
Chapter 14
Summer’s cell phone jarred her out of deep thought. “Hey Baby!” she said excitedly, answering the phone when she saw Franks’ number. “Of course I miss you. You’ll see how much when you get here,” she replied with much sexiness in her voice.
“Stop! You’re going to make me crash,” she laughed. “Shall I pick you up at the airport, and we go to lunch from there?”
She listened to Frank tell her that he wanted her to be naked with a picnic blanket laid on their large, tile floor, with a basket of fruit and whip cream.
I’m bringing the wine honey,” he laughed in her ear.
“Sounds like a plan my love. Yeah, I love you too. Bye.”
Summer couldn’t wait until tomorrow afternoon. She’d be restless tonight. Anxious. Maybe I should’ve taken them up on their offer.
Tonight Urban Legend was celebrating their street-to-DVD movie, with 7 song CD/Soundtrack release. The movie was of the book “Street disciple,” the first of a trilogy. This was Urban Legend’s debut film.
The event was being
held in the Hudson room at Hyatt Regency downtown located at Exchange
Place in Jersey City. Over three thousand people were expected to be
in attendance.
”After we model, we serve drinks and do our job,
look beautiful,” Mariana, one of the models said, jokingly.
“Whatever Urban Legend does it, we do it big “Marsha, another of the beauties yelled through the phone. They had Summer on speaker phone a little while ago.
Summer was tempted. She hadn’t been to an event since her college days. “No, that’s okay, I’ll pass, thanks.” she told them. Besides, she was still scared about waking up in that hotel and not knowing how she had gotten there.
There was no way she could admit that to her doctor, for fear of being committed to some insane asylum, nor would she tell Frank. Although, he knew about her condition, Summer didn’t want to scare him with this. She saw what happened to Mary, her foster mother. Summer believed Mary was dosed with something and that’s what made her mind slip.
“Your condition was inherited.” Dr. Weiss had made clear. But Mary? Summer always knew her to be the brightest person. She always had the answer. They did this to her, the voice echoed in the back of her mind. This wasn’t the voice that sometimes talked to her, and she couldn’t control. Earlier, Summer had taken one of her newly prescribed pills, to keep that voice under control. Or was it, Summer questioned herself.
Chapter 15
It was just past midnight and in Downtown Jersey City the party was in full swing at club Jordan’s.
D.J. Flash was on the ones and two’s. The front and back was packed, wall to wall and the bar area was just as hectic.
Mad people were crowded around the bar, squeezing in and out and yelling over the music, to the three chicks behind the bar. Now, here was somebody standing behind her, up to close on her ass. She turned around. Excuse me, she started to say, but he spoke first.
“Winter is that you?”
“Yeah, hey Gee,” she answered, smiling.
“That’s right, I should’ve known better,” he replied. They both started to laugh. He now slid his hand up her side. A few people squeezed past saying, “What’s up Grunt?”
“What’s good?” he replied paying attention to who they were. “I’m about to spin off. You with me?” he asked.
“As soon as I finish my drink.” she said quickly, then leaned back. Winter held up her glass, looking at him, then back at it. Her glass was half full of the Patron she always drank. Winter sipped the remainder through a lime green, candy minted licorice straw in one sip. “Where you parked at?” she asked, leaning up in his ear.
“Right out front. Let me holla at my man. Give me two minutes.” he told her, then took off towards the back.
Winter took off through the crowd, heading outside.
Grunt moved through the excited crowd of people. He slid up on Bo-Pete, Da-La and Funk, who were seated by the stage in the back. “Pardon me,” he said to the lady standing directly in front of Bo-Pete, dancing. “Yo, you good?” Cause I’m about to go fuck with this bitch” he said in Bo’s ear.
“Yeah, I’m a’ight. Who the bitch? She got any friends with her?” Bo-Pete inquired.
“Nah, she by herself. You know her. The bitch Winter from Bayonne. She used to strip at World Paradise. They used to call her Spontaneous,” Grunt added.
Bo shook his head no, signaling he didn’t know the chic.
“I’m gone,” Grunt said dapping Bo, Da-La and Funk then spun off.
As soon as he walked outside he saw Winter standing directly across the street. His brand new black on black Mazda RX8 was parked one space away from the front door of the club. He jumped in, got the car started then made a U-turn to where she stood.
Winter hopped in and they were off.
Chapter 16
After leaving the Bayonne swimming pool, Summer headed home, unlike Winter, who went with Kathy and Julie, two of their best friends, who happened to be white.
They were going to Julie’s house, and five boys were with them.
“No! I’m going home. Come on Winter,” she said to her sister, who asked her to come along.
At fourteen years old, Summer was still a virgin, and not the least bit interested in boys. She’d rather read a book, or play scrabble with her friend, Frank. He was real cool, and he never talked nasty to her like all the other boys. Frank was the epitome of nerd; just her type of friend.
“Go ahead; I’m hanging with Kathy and Julie. Tell mom,” Winter replied then took off with them.
The two bedroom, house they lived in, was on Thirty-third Street, between Kennedy Boulevard and Broadway Avenue.
Summer entered the house and walked through the living room, in to the kitchen, straight for the refrigerator. She saw a note stuck to the door.
Summer grabbed it, and then reached for a can of Pepsi from the fridge. Two twenty dollar bills fell on the floor when she opened the note. It read: Girls, I was called in to work. You guys can order out, since I didn’t cook. Love ya! It was signed, mom.
Summer left the money and note on the sink counter and headed upstairs. She needed a shower, after being in the swimming pool.
Minutes later, she was under the steaming hot shower humming the sound of Jodeci’s tunes blasting from the stereo in the room.
All of a sudden the shower curtain snatched open, causing her to jump and cover her privates as best as she could.
“What are you doing? Close the curtain,” she snapped.
“Damn!” The wrong one, David thought. Still, he stood there smiling, looking at her hungrily. “Well, well,” his voice chuckled evilly.
Summer tried to jerk the curtain close, after quickly reaching to turn off the shower, but he held on to it tightly. Still trying to hide her naked body, she stepped out of the shower. She went to snatch the towel off the rack, but he grabbed her, hard, and pushed her up against the door.
Shocked and scared, summer gasped, staring at him wide eyed. “Stop! you’re hurting me,” she said as his grip tightened around her wrist.
David’s tall frame hovered over her. His eyes beamed down at her nakedness. Now, he reached for her breast. “Stop!!!” Summer screamed, struggling.
He pushed his body up against hers and tried to kiss her. She shook away.
“Listen here you little cum guzzler. You’ve played hard to get long enough,” he said. All the while he kept her hands pinned at her sides. Now, he reached in his right pants pocket, and came out with a small glassine bag. “You see this?” I found it in your room under your mattress,” he said angrily, before she could answer.
She stared at him with a mean face, trying to wiggle free as he waved a bag of marijuana before her eyes. “That’s not mine,” she said rolling her eyes and still trying to get free from his grip.
“It will be, if you don’t do what I say. And you know what that means? I’m going to contact that social worker from that foster home and tell her that you’re using drugs,” he said in an evil tone. “My wife will not stick up for you,” he went on to say. “Then, you will be hauled off, back to that group home place you hate so much, he added.
David had seen the fear from his words, show on her face. Now, be quiet, this won’t hurt” he said while unbuttoning his pants.
“Nooo!!!” Summer yelled, jumping out of the horrible nightmare. She tried to control her breathing as she sat up, looking around, she started to calm down. At least she was in her own home.
Chapter 17
Bo-Pete listened to Grunt’s message for the third time. “Where the hell is he?” he cursed to himself. Shawn Mickens of Urban Alliance of Ex-offenders called twenty minutes ago, asking what’s going on with the van, which picked up his halfway house residents and transported them to work.
Bo-Pete had started a cleaning company, just over a year ago. He knew from his own experience, after leaving prison for a murder rap, and going to the halfway house, that it was hard as an ex-offender, to find a decent job. Especially one that was paying above minimum wage. All of his employees started out with eleven an hour.
Bo-came up with the idea to approach all hip-hop related business in the New York tri-state area. With all the bad criticizing of the hip-hop industry and the negative images people claim it promotes, his proposal was on time, as Davalier Turner, CEO of Black Congress Inc., put it. Davalier (A.K.A. Dab) helped him expand.
Their plan was to provide employment to ex-offenders, who are at the halfway house phase of incarceration. The goal was to reduce recidivism and the unemployment rate amongst minority men and women, from urban communities.
This was definitely a good image and marketing tool for the hip-hop industry and exec’s who contracted with Bo-Pete’s cleaning company. It showed that the hip-hop music industry contributed to the edification of their people, and Bo capitalized off of cleaning their officers, stores etc., on a weekly, bi-weekly or monthly basis.
Grunt was his man since back in the day, so he put Gee on when he came home from a five year stretch, last month. Grunt was a partner in the business; that’s how it’s always been with them.
Driving up Fairmount Avenue, from Grand Street, Bo found himself getting a little angry. This nigga tricked off with some bitch last night, and he still somewhere laid up.