"It's the butterflies, and the fireflies, fighting in my stomach
(the light between their wings)
Scared to fly,
I might come down,
Think I'm ready now,
Getting back in line…"
Tank and the Bangas- "Rollercoasters"
Califia Stevens found the air chilly when the open ferry crossed the Vineyard Sound. They were approaching the ferry dock, and Califia could feel the cool air kissing her legs and fluttering the hem of her summer skirt. She and her longtime bestie Bakari Dunduza dragged their luggage off the exit ramp and were greeted by Bakari's childhood island friend Albert Pettigrew.
Califia found the term friend bandied about loosely from Bakari's mouth. From what she had known of Bakari's annual excursions to the "Yard" (as he called it), the childhood "friends" were simply children of other wealthy accomplished Black Americans, -the true strivers in their circles-who wanted their offspring to only associate with their kind of Black people, the talented tenth, the Black elites who looked at Black American lineage often the same way white Mayflower descendants took on pedigree as a sign of being exceptional. Special. In Califia's mind, these ferociously upwardly mobile negroes reveled in being "the only ones". The only Black person in a corporate office. The only Black person in an expensive gated community. The only Black member of an exclusive country club. The only Black person to vacation in an exotic locale. The only Black person to belong to certain white spaces historically off-limits to the darkies.
Califia really tried to check herself when she stepped off the boat and saw Albert in person waiting for them with a bright smile on his face. Things could be different. People could change. Her one and only visit to this place was ten years previous when she was fifteen and feeling herself, and she knew immediately, from the chilly reception she received from that breed of Vineyarder negritude, that this was not the social class for her. They let her know right from jump that she would be tolerated for the length of her stay. It was her first time experiencing that type of intragroup prejudice on an overt level. They abhorred the uncultured, unlettered, and untethered lower Black masses. The poors. Them.
What she did remember most was how much cognitive dissonance Bakari went through back then since he came from these people. Her fifteen year-old-mind tried to fathom how Bakari could be so cool and down-to-earth, and open to all types of Black people, but the rest of his extended family wasn't.
Part of it had to do with his own parents. His mother Vivian was a fifth-generation member of a well-known and respected family who had distant ties to the first Black family to ever own property in Oak Bluffs. Her family had been vacationing there every summer since the 1900s. They were hardcore Vineyarders and let everyone know it. His father Otis met and socialized with his mother there for years, his own family a fourth generation Oak Bluffs clan filled with doctors, lawyers, bankers, and one raunchy soul singer from the 70s whom no one claimed because it was uncouth and not very civilized in their eyes.
Bakari's parents must've agreed to change their destiny and relocated to the West Coast before Bakari was born, settling in Oakland, both breaking tradition and bypassing the usual Ivy League and historically Black colleges and universities of their foremothers and fathers. They were the eclectic New Age hippy Blacks who practiced yoga, alternative healing, and became vegans. They started Bakari on a plant-based diet until he had his first taste of shrimp and grits dripping with bacon and butter at Califia's grandmother's house in elementary school.
Bakari's father and Califia's father met and became friends when their children studied capoeira together, their bond so tight people thought they were related to one another. They both introduced their children to the art form, had them involved in West African dance and drumming while forging an extended family unit with their wives. When Califia's father went to prison, it was Otis and Vivian who looked after her family. When Califia's mother divorced, re-married and moved back east, it was Otis and Vivian who took Califia in so she could stay in her gifted classes at the same public school with Bakari, continue to study capoeira, and keep the semblance of a normal home life in her own city to offset the trauma of moving away from all she knew. They raised her as a daughter until Califia reached high school and moved in with her grandmother.
Califia thought Bakari's parents were cool, and even though they broke with one tradition for their education, the annual trips back to Oak Bluffs was something they did not relinquish, packing up and heading east the moment Bakari's schooling was completed for the year. Califia would be sent down south to be with her father's people for the beginning of summer, and then passed off to be with her mother in New Jersey for the closing of summer. One year, Vivian asked Califia's mother if she could spend two weeks with them in Oak Bluffs, and her mother readily agreed, probably hoping that the upper-class environment would smooth over Califia's rough edges. But at fifteen, Califia was her very own person and unapologetic about it. The only thing she learned while sunbathing at Inkwell Beach and eating lobster rolls was that the best weed came from the cute white boys six miles down in Edgartown and that she hated the elite of any kind, but especially the ones that looked like her.
Califia watched Bakari and Albert greet one another as old friends and fraternity brothers. They did some quick Omega Psi Phi bonding and Califia took a moment to look around the marina. Plenty of shops and restaurants for tourists. She recalled how colorful she remembered the town being, how quaint and old-timey all the buildings and houses looked, especially the carefully tended Victorian style architecture along the main street. Her gaze soon settled back on the guys. Albert was staring at her.
"I'll take that for you," he said, reaching for her suitcase. She let him take it and then they were sizing one another up. Ten years had seasoned Albert the right way. His once every-texture- under-the-sun hair had been cut and styled to go with his soft curls that started thick at the roots but tapered off at his temples. He had a few prematurely sprinkled gray hairs at his temples that were sexy to her and made her want to run her fingers all down the sides of his head. His barber hooked him up so well that Califia would bet money other dudes pointed at Albert and said, "Give me that clipper cut."
Albert must've been in the sun for a minute, the fair skin that burned so long ago when they were teens now had a rosy bronze hue that made his hazel eyes pop. Albert had turned out so fine that Califia was actually offended looking at his pretty ass. Other people stepping off the ferry were also looking at his pretty ass. Wearing an orange t-shirt with a black dog on it with a red collar, some board shorts, and canvas boat shoes, Albert looked the part of a summering local.
"It's good to see you again, Califia," he said.
"Same," she said.
Albert turned to lead them toward his parked car, and when his back was to them Bakari gave her a look like, "You will thank me for this gift."
She non-verbally let him know that Albert was even better looking than the picture Bakari sent her.
Albert placed the suitcases in the back of a late model gray SUV.
"Shotgun!" Bakari called out.
"Let Califia ride shotgun. She hasn't been here in years. I want to give her a little ride tour," Albert said opening the passenger side door for her.
"She ain't special," Bakari teased opening up the back-passenger door and sliding in.
Albert drove them through the touristy parts and Califia remembered a few places. Like the colorful Gingerbread cottages that looked like they came straight out of a Disney movie. They took a spin around the heart of town. They passed by a restaurant Bakari's parents took her to, Giordano's, and Califia found herself picking out other spots that she remembered. Like the ice cream chain of Mad Martha's. Califia pointed to it.
"Do they still make that nasty ass lobster ice cream?" she asked.
"You remember that? You complained all day when you tried it," Albert said.
They drove along Lake Avenue and Califia was able to catch great views of the harbor as the sun was starting to make its crossing into late afternoon. They cruised past the largest oceanfront hotel on Martha's Vineyard, the Wesley, and Califia made a mental note to try and stay at least one night there. It was a beautiful structure and she wanted to wake up to a sunset on the top floor.
When they made the drive along Seaview Avenue, Califia recognized the Oak Bluffs Beach that had been made into a terrible movie that Otis complained about when she and Bakari were kids. The Inkwell. They circled the Highlands area of Oak Bluffs. Every façade and structure had quarter boards that named the family or person who lived there.
They drove up to a purple-trimmed cottage, and Califia saw the pale blue hydrangea bushes that she used to touch every morning before she headed out to the beach on her fifteenth summer. Bakari's family owned the cottage. Albert's family owned the two on either side of it.
Bakari took their luggage from the trunk and before Califia could even reach for it, his parents were walking outside holding big blue glasses of rum punch to greet them with. Califia hugged Vivian first, her short-upswept hairdo complimenting her salt and pepper waves. She smelled of lilacs and lazy summer nights. Her dark tawny skin still looked youthful and glowing. Otis gave Califia a big bear hug, his aftershave tickling her senses, his heavenly deep and rich umber skin-tone reminding Califia of good health and remaining unbothered by the world. Vivian and Otis were true couple goals in Califia's book.
Califia took her glass of rum punch and drank it down. She felt a little dehydrated from the ferry boat ride, and she also wanted to prep herself for the grand dowager of the Pettigrew clan, Hazel Dixon-Pettigrew, who Califia saw stepping onto her porch. Hazel wore a stylish gray-silver wig that flattered her glowering face as it took in the return of the young upstart from Oakland.
"Hey, Aunt Hazel, look who's back!" Albert said.
Hazel looked Califia up and down. A cool smile spread across her face.
"Welcome back to Oak Bluffs young lady," Hazel said.
Califia already heard from the tone that this woman was not thrilled to see her again. But Califia could play petty too.
"Hello, Miss Hazel, I'm happy to be back," Califia said. She took another long sip of her rum punch and turned her eyes away from the woman.
"We can finally turn up!" Otis said, throwing up his hands.
"Oh Lord, Otis, give them time to settle in before you go overboard. Are you all hungry?" Vivian said, rubbing Califia's arm.
"We're good Mom. We'll put away our stuff," Bakari said giving her another kiss on the cheek.
"You both are actually staying with me in Mama Rhea's place," Albert said, indicating the other cute pink and white-trimmed cottage.
"Bet," Bakari said hauling their bags to the place. Califia followed as Bakari stepped up onto a small porch and opened the front door. Califia's sandal got caught on the flowery welcome mat. She stopped to fix her foot and Albert assisted her by holding her arm as she tried to adjust her shoes.
"We should probably nail that down or something," he said. His voice sounded so rich in her ear. He released her arm and pushed open the screen door for her. She walked in and looked around. It was a quaint little abode that gave off crazy vibes of comfort. Stepping inside felt like stepping into a home that loved people and wanted to throw a warm blanket over everyone. Califia let out a deep sigh.
"This is wonderful," she said admiring the knick-knacks and collected trinkets from a family who had come here and planted roots for generations.
"This place originally had two bedrooms, but my family has added onto it over the years. It now has three bedrooms and a sun deck. Choose any room you like," he said.
He led her to check out each bedroom, and she chose the one that faced out onto a well-tended garden. A window was open and she could smell the beach and her sense memories kicked in and she suddenly realized that this man had watched her undo her bikini top near the seawall ten years ago, and he had fondled her breasts and sucked on her nipples…
She glanced at him, feeling her cheeks flame up. Had he thought about that tender tryst from all those years ago today too?
"Would you like to rest, or are you up for socializing?" Albert said.
Why was this nigga sounding so dreamy, making her feel all gooey inside and shy all of a sudden?
"I really would like to take a nap," she said, plopping down on the double bed. She crossed her legs and caught his eyes looking.
"I'm tripping out on how much you've changed, but also, stayed the same. I like the short hair," he said.
She ran her hand over her fade. She recently had the top buzz cut again. She still had a geometrical undercut in the back. Her new barber was a beast when it came to lining up her shit. He had her looking sleek. She had the perfect round head for no hair. Grace Jones was her Godmother of inspiration when it came to being a baddie with a fade. For some reason, Grace Jones' voice was filling Califia's head when she looked at Albert's lips. The lyrics to "Pull Up to the Bumper" rattled around in her head, and she had to force herself to look away, afraid she would do something rash like unzipping her top.
"I'm really glad you agreed to come out here. We're going to have fun," he said.
"I hope so. It's been a long time since I've had real fun," she said.
She internally groaned. She hoped she didn't sound desperate. She was already dating two guys at the same time and was getting plenty of that good-good. But it had been a long time since she had been attracted to a man like this. Not since….
She felt her forehead crinkle.
N'Jobu hadn't crossed her mind in a long time. Stranger still, she felt guilty for thinking nasty thoughts about Albert the moment N'Jobu popped into her head. She had slept with plenty of men since N'Jobu left her, and not once did she think of him in any capacity while playing the field.
Well, that wasn't exactly true.
Califia's friend Serah had warned her of what it was like to date after being with N'Jobu. It was difficult to transition from a certain standard of treatment, and N'Jobu became the litmus test for Califia to know if a man was worth having. And Serah did not exaggerate when she said it wasn't just the sex, it was everything. The aura. The confidence.
N'Jobu had really spoiled her for what a big dick could be and not be. Three years ago, his penis was the largest she had ever had. But since then, she had encountered some doozies, and not all big dicks measured up. She had one guy who was richly endowed but couldn't keep it up when he penetrated her. It would never reach a hardness that was satisfactory to her. He kept rubbing his fingers on himself to push back into her because his dick would bend and get soft in places and it turned her off watching a condom deflate like a sad punchline. Another owner of a horse dick used it as a battering ram, no stroke game whatsoever, just BAM! BAM! BAM! and then an out of breath inquiry afterward of "Did you cum?"
She learned ever so humbly that big wasn't better and that her best post-N'Jobu fucks came from average-sized men who knew how to use their bodies to satisfy their partners. She just didn't tolerate foolishness anymore. She set boundaries early and often and had no problem asking for what she wanted in bed. Being with N'Jobu taught her the gift of fearless love-making.
She pushed N'Jobu thoughts aside and focused back on Albert and his cupid bow lips. He had nice toned runners legs.
"Tell you what, you rest up. There's food in the fridge if you get hungry. My Aunt Hazel is having her evening soireé starting at five. There'll be wine and snacks. We could go to dinner afterward—"
"Damn Al, chill," Bakari said poking his head in the room.
Califia rubbed the back of her neck with her hand. Albert was so cute chatting her up. It was nice to be around a man that truly liked her and wanted to make sure she was comfortable and taken care of.
"I'm going to sleep for a bit. Is there a dress code for this soireé?"
"What you have on is fine," Albert said.
"Am I invited to the after-dinner trip, or is this a date thang between y'all?" Bakari said.
"Get out!" Califia said throwing her sandal at him. Bakari ducked and Califia heard her shoe hit the floor.
"You are welcome to come along," Albert said.
"Bet."
Albert looked at Califia again and she felt fireflies in her tummy. She was tickled pink to be feeling this way again, so girlish and young, and so open to anything. She was really feeling him.
"Soireé and then dinner," Albert said.
"Sounds like a plan," she said feeling her cheeks raise up in a smile.
Albert and Bakari left her alone, and Califia stepped out of her other sandal and stretched out on the bed. It was so soft. Almost too soft for her back. But the pillows were overstuffed with goose feathers, and Califia found her eyes shutting with a swiftness.
###
Califia changed into a short powder blue babydoll dress that was nice enough for wine and cheese and then dinner. She dusted her cheeks with a light bronzer and painted her lips with a chocolate lipstick color that made her medium brown eyes stand out more. She smoothed her legs in cocoa butter and threw on a snazzier pair of sandals with seashells attached to the heel.
When she stepped out of the bedroom, Albert was waiting for her in the living room.
"Bakari already went over," he said.
She nodded.
"Shall we?" He said.
She followed him out of the cottage and was pleasantly surprised to see a large group of people standing and sitting around Hazel's front porch. Several small tables with dainty yellow table clothes stacked with expensive linen napkins were filled with antique dishes holding various hors-d'oeuvres. One table had wine glasses with expensive wine bottles already open and ready for proper libations. A nice mix of young and old friends conversed and shared pictures on their phones as Albert and Califia stepped into their midst. Califia girded her loins as she took her place among the foray. She felt her stomach tighten and immediately chided her own self for creating a tense situation in her own mind.
When the eyes of several strangers fell on her, she saw smiles and subtle feelings of welcome. Bakari's mother walked over to her and put an arm around her shoulder.
"Everyone, this is Califia, my Goddaughter. She teaches in Oakland," Vivian said.
Warm nods were sent Califia's way and she was handed a glass of white wine from Otis.
"Is this the same young lady that stayed with you all when Ayanna went to Paris that summer?" An older woman with a sharp haircut said.
"Yes," Vivian said.
"Oh, I remember you!" the woman said standing up and walking over to Califia.
"Cali, this is Mrs. Hunter," Vivian said. Mrs. Hunter stood close to Califia and gave her the once-over.
"Oh, I remember this freckled face! Young lady, you gave us such a time when you were here. You look wonderful."
Mrs. Hunter reached out and gave Califia a hug, and Califia felt a bit awkward.
"I'm Cedric's mother. You do remember Cedric, don't you? You, Bakari, Albert, and Cedric ran around together that summer. We tried so hard to get you to be with my daughter and her friends, but all you did was ride that beach cruiser and pal around with those boys. You remember? Cedric, come here!"
Mrs. Hunter waved her hand toward a robust looking man with thick eyelashes that gave his deep-set eyes an intense quality when he looked at Califia. The texturized low-cut waves in his hair complimented his oval face. The summer sun gave his mellow brown skin a reddish tint. How the hell did she forget Cedric? He was the only one besides Bakari who made her feel like she belonged anywhere.
"Hey, you're that girl!" Cedric said, a huge smile breaking out on his face.
Cedric gave her a welcome hug, and Califia smelled a subtle vanilla-tinged cologne on him. The fuck. Did all of the Oak Bluffs boys grow up this sexy? What the hell was in the island water? She glanced over at Bakari who was talking to a woman that looked vaguely familiar to Califia. Bakari was her brother in all ways but taken in context with Albert and Cedric, she saw her bestie with fresh eyes. It hit her like a brick, but because she considered him family, she overlooked how handsome her homie was. He was a solid dude with brains, a wicked sense of humor, and his glasses gave him hot nerd cred.
"You used to loan me your bike so I could ride around town," Califia said.
"How long are you here for?" he asked.
"Just a week, and then I'm off to D.C."
"The Congressional Black Caucus Weekend. I wish I could go. I'm due back in Atlanta that weekend," he said.
"You're in Atlanta?" she asked.
Califia and Cedric went through a litany of places and people they knew mutually in Georgia, and the white wine kicked in and she relaxed considerably as Albert joined them. She was introduced to more people and felt her belly unclench. She snacked on deviled eggs and skewers of grilled shrimp.
"Olivia, come and say hi to Cali," Albert called out to the woman Bakari was talking to.
When Olivia approached, Califia felt the old unease return. Olivia was Hazel's granddaughter, the mean girl whose microaggressions picked at Califia that hot summer in the past. She was the one who had a crush on Cedric. When Califia first met her, she was impressed at how chic Olivia looked at eighteen, her fifteen-year-old self so easily smitten by put together Black girls with plenty of confidence. But Olivia's confidence and pulled together look masked an ugly persona underneath. Not exactly a physical bully, because Califia knew she could whoop the girl's ass, but the mental cruelty Olivia subjected her to made that one time stay a misery.
Olivia's face was heavily made up, and she was still put together like an Essence magazine model.
"Hello," Olivia said, snacking on a plate of bacon-wrapped dates.
"Hi," Califia said, keeping her responses curt.
"Time for a toast!"
Hazel stepped outside onto her porch, her glass of red wine held high in the air. All of the guests held up their glasses.
"To family, friends, and making more memories! Cheers!"
Califia drank another glass of white wine, and as she sipped, she took in the energy of the soireé guests. Hazel made her way over to her with Olivia and another woman in tow.
"Califia, are you enjoying yourself?" Hazel said.
"I am, thank you," she said, making sure her voice was pleasant.
Cedric joined them, and Califia was glad to have a buffer. The small talk was basic and boring, but Cedric kept it flowing, and Califia found herself falling in line with him. They discussed her teaching and Cedric's career as a legal analyst, and Olivia dropped in tidbits about her real estate company and the new house she was having built with her husband. Things were going well until Hazel decided to stir the pot.
"Vivian tells me that your father was finally released from prison. You must be so glad to have him back."
Califia felt it trickle down upon her skin. That old feeling of shame. That old feeling of wanting to hide. Not feeling good enough. Not belonging.
Califia heard Olivia titter over her grandmother's churlish words, and she was aware that some people were staring at her. She swallowed hard, took another sip of wine and steeled her gaze upon Hazel.
"We're very happy to have him back. Thank you for asking after him. I appreciate it," she said, standing a little taller.
"Califia! Come here for a second, I want you to meet Dr. Youngblood," Vivian called from the porch.
"Excuse me," Califia said stalking away from Hazel and her minion.
"Cali, this is Dr. Ayanna Youngblood. She wasn't here when you came to stay with us. Dr. Youngblood, this is Califia Stevens, my other child," Vivian said squeezing Califia's hand.
Ayanna's eyes were a twinkling brown that gave Califia mischief in the making vibes. As a child, Califia had heard stories about Ayanna. Double Ph.D. Brilliant mathematician. Author of best-selling books on history and mathematics across the globe. Black Royalty in Oak Bluffs because of her lineage and her success.
Ayanna clasped both her hands around Califia's.
"I have heard so much about you. I am so sorry I wasn't here the summer you stayed. Why didn't you ever return?"
Califia didn't feel comfortable telling the woman the truth in front of Vivian. She didn't want to hurt her second mother's feelings by blurting out that she was made to feel like a lowly chicken amongst eagles.
"I have family down south that I spent most of my summers with. And my mom lives in New Jersey, so I bounced around a lot."
"Well, accept this as my invitation to come here anytime you want. I have plenty of room in my home. Vivian tells me you are big on Black History. You must let me take you around while you are here. I hear you're a huge Malcolm X fan. I will show you where he stayed when he came to visit Oak Bluffs.
"Really? El Hajj Malik came here?"
"He sure did. So did Paul Robeson. Martin Luther King Jr. The writer Dorothy West."
"She wrote 'The Living is Easy', right?"
"Yes!"
"I read some of her work in college for a Black Literature class. I was all into the Harlem Renaissance after getting into Zora Neale Hurston."
"Such an illustrious time for those authors."
"I'd love to have you take me around."
"Wonderful. I'll plan a nice walking tour and lunch for us. Bakari showed me some videos of you and him doing your martial art, and I would love to talk to you about the history of Black people learning it here in the states…"
The rest of the evening Califia stayed by Ayanna's side. She noticed something interesting in the dynamic of the gathering. Although Hazel paraded around like the Queen of the Universe among the group, it was actually Ayanna who reigned as the doyenne of the soireé. The two women circled around one another, rarely interacting unless they were pulled into a conversation by a third party. It was a subtle dance of power to hold sway over the group. It made Califia wonder what it was like when they were teenagers. She could visualize Hazel being a petty northeastern Belle up against a give no fucks southern Dame.
Califia sipped more wine and ate up the reality tv show that was playing out in front of her. Ayanna was showing her a different side of the Oak Bluffs elite. The kind Califia could get down with.
"I didn't get a chance to tell you that you look very nice," Albert said sidling up to her.
Califia was near a table loaded with fancy cheese, and she was trying hard not to indulge. The wine had her feeling warm and easy, and she was really glad she came with Bakari on this trip.
Califia put her hand on Albert's chest.
"I keep waiting for the old Albert to pop out and rag on me. Where is that dude?" She teased.
He stroked her hand and then held it.
"He grew up," he said.
"Yeah, he did," she said, drinking in the sensual look in his eyes.
"You ready to head out for dinner?"
"Yeah," she said rubbing her thumb on the skin between his thumb and index finger.
"Let's jet," he said, his long fingers interlacing with her hers.
"Where are you two going?"
Califia turned and saw Cedric watching them.
"I'm taking Cali to dinner," Albert said, tugging on her hand to keep her moving.
"Come join us," she said, holding out her other hand.
Cedric clasped it, and she felt the unspoken rivalry between the two of them. Fuck it. Who wouldn't want to have dinner with two cool drinks of water? She was a single girl. And life was going the way she wanted. Indulge, she told herself.
###
Albert took them to Giordano's. They ate savory plates of creamy pasta and drank more high-end wine. There was so much Califia had forgotten about her stay with them as teenagers. Probably because she worked hard to void the experience from memory.
Slowly and surely, the two men filled in the gaps of what she had jettisoned. They laughed a lot and for a second, she felt bad for not bringing Bakari along. But a text from him let her know he was happy to stay with his parents.
By the time they were all splitting a crème brule, Califia felt very comfortable being with them.
"When Ayanna asked me why I never came back, I have to be honest, I wanted everyone there to know how shitty their kids were to me," she said, twirling a spoon in the last vestiges of their desert.
"I wasn't shitty to you," Cedric balked. He was sitting to her left, and she could feel his thigh touching hers every now and then. Albert was to her right, his thigh resting comfortably next to hers.
"No, you weren't, but you were kinda shy back then. I would talk to you and you would look at me like I wasn't speaking English."
"I had a crush on you," he confessed, looking her in the eye when he said it.
"You did?"
"We all did," Albert added.
"Why didn't you guys say anything? At least I could deal with puppy love as opposed to feeling like shit floating in cream."
Cedric and Albert burst out laughing.
"We couldn't say anything. Olivia and her squad would've killed us," Albert said, licking his spoon.
"Yep. We had to see those girls every summer, and they controlled the pecking order. Olivia was into me back then…"
"Tell the truth. You two were messing around," Albert said.
"We were, but how would it look going for a fifteen-year-old when an eighteen-year-old was breathing down your neck? Your cousin Olivia can be scary. I wasn't about to have that smoke," Cedric said.
Califia looked around. The restaurant was closing up and she noticed some of the wait staff glancing at them. Her working-class roots kicked in.
"We should bounce. People want to go home."
"There's more wine at the house, we can continue our trip down memory lane there," Albert said.
"Brilliant," Califia said.
Cedric drove them back to the cottage where more wine was shared and more stories about Oak Bluffs denizens were told. They sat on a comfy old couch, listening to good music on Califia's cell, and quickly getting into an argument on the latest hip-hop acts.
"See, I knew the old Albert had to come out sometime!" Califia screeched, slapping his shoulder.
"Albert has no idea what good music is. He thinks Taliba Wright can't sing!" Cedric said.
"Nigga!" Califia yelled, glaring at Albert.
"Tell him!" Cedric said, pouring himself another drink.
"See, now I know you on some bullshit if you think Taliba Wright can't sing. Stop acting light-skint!"
Cedric fell out, slapping his thigh.
"Everything isn't for everyone," Albert said.
"How you can say that about Taliba with a straight face is beyond me," Califia said.
"She sounds like she's caterwauling all the time," Albert said.
Califia switched the music on her phone to a slow song by Taliba Wright.
"Oh, jeez…," Albert said, rolling his eyes.
"You listen to that greatness," she said.
Albert tried covering his ears with his hands and Califia pulled them away.
"Listen to her," Califia demanded.
Albert stopped moving and listened. Cedric was already head bobbing along with Califia.
"Okay, this particular song is not bad," Albert conceded.
"Boy, this is fucking by the fireplace music," Califia said circling her head to the sensual rhythm.
Albert stared at her, and she saw his eyes fix on her lips which were twisted up because of the music.
"Listen to how she plays her voice singing backward and the vibe slaps even harder. She will have you feeling some type of way," she whispered, allowing the music to intoxicate her mind as well as her body.
Albert listened and watched Califia.
"You don't feel that here?" she said placing her palm over his heart.
Albert touched her hand, then leaned down and kissed her. The music had her and Califia opened her mouth and took in his tongue. Albert's right hand slid to her neck and pulled her in. She took his hand and pulled it down towards her right breast. Albert released her lips and looked down at his hand as he squeezed the heaviness in his grasp. She unbuttoned the top of her babydoll dress and she felt Cedric shift on the couch.
"I guess that's my cue to go—" Cedric said.
Califia turned her face toward him. She reached out for his hand and placed it on her left breast. Cedric's eyes didn't leave hers.
"Come here," she said, and he leaned in, allowing her lips to snag hold of his bottom lip and suck on it.
She felt both of their hands slip inside the dress. She unfastened her bra and pulled it off, letting them caress her softness. Albert wasted no time bending his head low to suck on her nipples, and Califia thrilled to his touch, knowing he was getting off on having his hands on her again. She turned her attention back to Cedric, tonguing him down, enjoying the sound of a deep groan his throat. His hand dropped from her breast and snaked its way to her thigh. She opened her legs and felt his fingers going under her dress seeking out her panties.
She reached down and pulled up the hem of her dress, giving Cedric access to the basic cotton bikini whites she was wearing. His fingers slipped down her panties and she watched his eyes widen when he felt her clit ring.
"Damn," he whispered staring at her face as he plucked at her clit, tapping the ring. His fingers were soon joined by Albert's.
"That's how you roll?" Albert whispered when his finger touched her ring. Cedric's index and ring finger were already spreading her labia and plunging softly in and out of her as Albert's middle finger tapped and pressed on her clit. Califia started panting at the sensations of two different hands touching her, her body soaking their fingers to sticky wet perfection.
"Shit…she got a fat wet puss…," Cedric exhaled. "…she letting us play all in this…"
The fingers of both her hands crawled up their thighs and eased down into their crotches, rubbing two different swellings.
Cedric immediately removed his fingers and unfastened his pants giving Califia full access right away. He had a nice-looking fat brown dick and Califia gripped it firmly, letting him know she was running the show. His fingers returned to her pussy, touching her clit now that Albert had taken over her vagina, curling his fingers, trying to find the best way to please her with his touch. She released Cedric's dick to the sound of his groaning disappointment at leaving him unattended.
She quickly worked on Albert's pants, curious to see what he was packing, and she wasn't disappointed. His golden-brown length filled her grip. With both cocks in her hands, she stroked them equally and let her thighs fall open wider.
"Take off your dress," Albert whispered in her ear.
"You take it off," She commanded, leaning forward so he could ease it over her head. Cedric pulled her panties completely off, and then they all went back to Califia stroking them and the both of them alternating playing with her clit and fingering her pussy. Albert took a look at her stomach and noticed the two tattoos she had placed over her surgery scars. The left side had a writing similar to fancy Sanskrit lettering. The right side had a tribal rendering of a manta ray.
In her passion, she observed how the two men interacted with her body. They were not as aggressive as she would've liked, and they were not very talkative as she would've loved, but they were attentive and took polite turns to play inside her pussy. She found Albert to be more of a voyeur, his moans happening more when he watched her kiss Cedric and roll her fingers around the head of Cedric's dick.
Cedric liked being an exhibitionist, occasionally telling Albert to watch how he fingered Califia. She glanced over at Albert's face, his light eyes were narrow as he bit his lower lip, and that one bit of detail, his lips twisted because of her, made her release sooner than she wanted.
"Her pussy is grabbing my fingers…oh…shit…" Cedric groaned, his dick spurting all over her hand.
She saw Albert's eyes squeeze shut as he kept stroking her clit, knowing he had caused her orgasm.
"Cum on my tits, Albert," Califia moaned to him.
Albert gasped, then jumped up with his dick gripped tightly in his hand. Cedric fell away from her as Califia sat up holding her breasts for him. Albert's fingers clasped her right nipple as he stroked hard, another deluge of pre-cum dropping on her tits before she felt the heavy drops of semen raining down on her nipples.
"Aw…shit…!" Albert yelled, looking down at Califia's face. She rubbed his ejaculate all over her breasts.
"You couldn't wait to do that, huh?" she said.
"Been dreaming about it forever," he said, panting and staring down at her chest.
She glanced over at Cedric, and he was rubbing his dick in his hand.
Her cell phone rang. She answered much to the chagrin of the two spent men watching her. She stood up, grabbing her underwear and dress.
"Hi, Ayanna. Tomorrow? What time? Really? That sounds like fun. I'll be ready."
Califia hung up her cell and stared at the two naked men.
"I guess your local Polar Bear club is doing their daily early morning dip in the ocean. I'm going to join Dr. Youngblood tomorrow."
Albert and Cedric still had lustful looks on their faces. She felt powerful standing and looking down at them. Over dinner, she knew that she wanted to sleep with one of them before she left Oak Bluffs. What had occurred, the spontaneous need in her to have both of them was not expected. But now that they had touched her, and she had kissed them both, she wanted them equally. Maybe at the same time again if they were open to it.
"I think I'm going to turn in now. I have to get up in a few hours apparently," she said, her voice laced with honey and spice.
Cedric took the hint and grabbed his pants, heading to the bathroom to clean himself up. Albert stood up and placed himself in front of her.
His eyes regarded her without judgment.
"I want to be the first one," he said touching her cheek.
Califia played coy, but she leaned into the touch.
"You like us both. I know that. But I want you first," he said.
"Okay," she said, fully controlling the narrative that she could already see playing out for the rest of the week.
###
When N'Jobu stepped out of the shower inside his suite, he wasted no time jumping into his sauna.
The Royal Delegation would leave for D.C. in a few days and N'Jobu was so ready to leave Wakanda. Get away from the oppressive environment he found himself in inside the palace.
He sat on the wooden bench inside his personal sauna and allowed the intense heat to comfort and ease his body. He was already packed and needed to tend to some last minute military matters before he left.
He ran his hand over his face. His beard needed a good trim before he left for the states. He debated getting a haircut now that he allowed his hair to grow out. He rubbed his chest and considered where to eat his dinner for the evening since he wanted to be alone. He heard the sound of his bathroom door opening.
He saw through the fogged up sauna door the figure of a woman.
Zinzi.
She opened the sauna and stepped in with a towel draped around herself.
"What are you doing here?" he said, not meaning to sound annoyed. He just wanted the solitude of his own thoughts.
She sat next to him, her hair piled up in a top knot on her head.
"Why can you not leave that Zana woman alone?"
"This again?"
"Yes. 'This again.' I am your woman now, N'Jobu."
"Are you still fucking Gcuma-?"
"No."
N'Jobu blinked, surprised. Zinzi's eyes were taking in his nudity.
"I want to be with you," she whispered.
"Wait a minute, since when—"
She threw her arms around his neck and smashed her lips into his hard. He pulled back from her, holding her arms gently but firmly away from him. Zinzi sat back from him. He released her arms.
"Listen, you and I have an arrangement that we agreed to stick to—"
"I have changed my mind."
"Changed your mind? Why?"
Zinzi stared at him. She stood up and let her towel fall to the floor. Holy Bast.
N'Jobu had never seen her naked and was dazzled by what she presented to him. Statuesque and stacked, she eased her frame in front of him, then dropped to her knees and cradled his face in her hands.
"I love you," she said.
"Zinzi, no," he whispered, closing his eyes.
"I want to be your wife. I want you."
"I told you to give me time—"
"No. No more time. I want this, now. I want you, now."
She was kissing him again.
"Tell that Zana woman it is over. Tell that sergeant you think I am not aware of that it is over too."
Her tongue was dipping into his mouth. And he surprised himself by letting her in. She let her hand fall to his cock.
"See, you want me too," she said fondling him. She cradled his balls in her hand.
"Let me have you, please, N'Jobu. I love you."
She was going to tie him down. This clever spider woman who built her web in front of him lulling him into a false sense of safety as she actually spun her webbing around him. Trapping him. All she needed to do was drop her fangs into him…
"Tell me you will not go to those women again. Tell me…"
She rubbed her face around his and he slowly gave in, kissing her back. She climbed up onto his lap and he held her waist.
"Tell me…" she whispered in his ear, and her warm breath excited him.
He said nothing and just allowed his lips and tongue to explore her needy mouth. A woman begging was his weakness.
N'Jobu pulled away from her lips and looked at her heavy voluptuous breasts. He reached up and grabbed them. There was so much for him to hold. He suckled her nipples and her sighs sent trickles of pleasure toward his groin.
"N'Jobu," she sighed again, feeling his length fill out between her legs.
He stuck his face between her breasts, plucking at her nipples and listening to her heavy sighs spin into desperate pants as she rotated her vulva on his dick.
"Tell me you can love me," she begged him.
N'Jobu pulled her from his lap and made her sit on the wooden sauna bench. He stood in front of her a placed his cock between her tits. His dick disappeared, only the tip showing. She pushed her huge breasts together and he fucked them eagerly.
"Tell me…" she kept saying.
"Zinzi, fuck…." he whispered, thrusting his cock and abandoning any thoughts outside of this moment with her, the woman who he thought of as a friend only. He reached down and squeezed her tits harder around his dick.
"I can make you happy N'Jobu. You can fuck me in my ass, in my mouth, anywhere you want, just make me your woman…"
"Shit!"
"Let me wear your clit ring, N'Jobu…"
At that moment, N'Jobu's mind went to Califia. She would be the only one to wear his ring. Only her. Zinzi kept begging him, but all he could concentrate on was his woman's pussy, his ring on her clit, his dick covering it with his semen to remind her of who she belonged to…
N'Jobu gasped as his orgasm seized up his back and he drenched Zinzi's neck and face.
"Califia, shit-!" he yelled, and then he caught himself.
Pulling out from between her breasts, N'Jobu felt ashamed for calling out his former lover's name. Zinzi's eyes looked watery, but she stood up and stroked his face.
"I will love you enough for the both of us, N'Jobu," she said.
"I—"
"Do not…" she said touching his lips.
"Sit down," he said.
Zinzi dropped back on the bench and N'Jobu kneeled before her, lifting her legs and pushing them back on the bench. His mouth enveloped her clit. She was alluring, no doubt about it. Luscious and beautiful. Had he never gone to the states, they would've been married and fucking like rabbits by now, on their third or fourth baby truthfully. Licking her pussy, trying his best to bring her pleasure to make up for the short bit of pain he subjected her to, N'Jobu knew he could never love Zinzi the way she needed to be loved. And it was unfair to her to lie and pretend that he could ever fall in love with her. He could only feel platonic love for her.
Zinzi reached out and held up her legs for him. He stuck his fingers inside her and finger fucked her, his thick digits pulling pleasure out of her as she kept saying his name over and over. She was dripping. He felt his cock stir again.
He tongued her pussy, and when she came in his mouth, he savored the taste and feel of her, wondering how hard Gcuma came when he was inside of her. This fine ass woman hung out to dry by a coward.
When they were finished, N'Jobu showered with Zinzi, allowing her to touch him all over. When she saw his seed jewel in his penis, she rubbed it.
"I will not give up on you," she whispered as warm water beat down all over them.
He knew she wouldn't.
But that was the least of his problems.