"See-line woman (see-line)
Black dress on (see-line)
For a thousand dollars (see-line)
She wail and she moan (see-line)"
Nina Simone—"See-Line Woman."
On the third day, just like the Jesus in the bible that Bernice loved so much, Lena rose from her respite. She bathed, perfumed her body, and curled her hair perfectly. She caught a cab to the club, picked up her favorite roasted peanuts to share with her co-workers, and strolled inside to find Smoke waiting for her at the bar.
"Lena. Good to see you again. Are you feeling alright?"
The concern in his voice touched her.
She put her peanuts behind the counter and took off her coat and hat. He checked out her hair and the new black work dress that was tighter than usual. It revealed more of her figure, especially her behind. She handed him brand new pre-rolls inside another cigarette case.
Dimples.
"Shall I bring your drink to your table?" she asked, already mixing dark rum and orange juice.
"Nah, I'll have it here. Thanks."
Max raised an eyebrow at her.
Lena handed Smoke the drink, and he stroked her finger gently while taking the glass. He enjoyed the opening floor show from the vantage point of the bar. It made some staff members nervous to see him hanging out there. Smoke wasn't the fun twin. Stack was.
Caroline fumed all night, upset that someone hadn't seated him at his regular table where she could monopolize his attention. During the headlining band's break, Lena joked with the bass player and the drummer who requested whiskey shots from her. They were guys she knew from her time as a waitress at a port diner where she served sailors, hookers, johns, and flamboyant pimps.
She forgot about Smoke being there and shared bawdy jokes and sordid tales about the wharf, cracking the men up. The drummer tapped a beat on the counter, reminiscing about the good times on the wharf, and the bass player started singing an old song about prostitutes working tricks. Lena got to bobbing her head and swiveling her hips behind the counter as she walked seductively like the streetwalkers did.
"Shake it Lena!" the drummer said.
She waved her hand dismissively at him and stacked shots of whiskey on a tray for Bernice. The bass player kept singing to her.
"See-line woman…dressed in green…wears silk stalkings…with golden seams…sing it with me, Lena!"
Smoke stood from his seat.
"Alright now. Let the lady work in peace. Break time is over. These people need music on the bandstand, not here."
Smoke's tone was firm, but there was a gleam in his eye. He enjoyed seeing the playful side of her. She also sensed that he didn't want other men taking her attention away from him in the club. The bass player and drummer slinked away.
"See-line woman…see-line…she drink coffee…she drink tea," Lena sang.
"A woman shouldn't be singing a song like that," he said.
"A woman can sing anything she wants," she countered.
The lilt in her voice worked magic on his lips. He smiled at her in a way he hadn't before. It lit a fire in her to be a little extra that night. Smoke took his half-finished drink back to his regular table and Lena chased after the bass player and drummer headed for the bandstand. She whispered in the drummer's ear and he drew back from her with uncertainty in his eyes.
"Don't worry, just do it," she said.
They took their positions back on the bandstand. Lena fluffed her curls and waited.
The bass player spoke to the bandleader, and he glanced over at Lena with curiosity. She waved her fingers at him.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we'd like to do a song for you…it's an oldie, but a goodie. This one is going out to Mr. Smoke Moore."
Smoke stared at the bandleader with a crease on his forehead. Caroline lit his cigarette for him and he puffed away, waiting to see what the band would play. The music came out fast and spicy.
"Girl, what are you doing over here?" Bernice asked.
"Catching a bee with the honey he likes."
Lena strode over to the mic stand and looked in Smoke's direction. Her voice matched the raciness of the bands' playing. The serving staff stayed rooted in place, their mouths open, watching the bartender sing instead of the male vocalist on the piano. She flicked her hands like she was clucking juicy gossip to her girlfriends at the hair salon for her weekly pressing. The band members backed her up by repeating 'see-line' after each line she belted out.
"See-line woman…dressed in red…make a man…lose his head…"
The crowd reveled in the vulgar connotations, and the flute player punctuated her seductive tone with bright accents. She rolled the words off her tongue sensually. People jumped up to dance. Lena gave them the raunchy song they needed to get laid that night.
"See-line woman…black dress on…for a thousand dollars…she wail and she moannnn…."
Lena ran her hands along the sides of her hips and thrust her pelvis three times toward the crowd on the dance floor before twirling in a circle, leading the audience into a lustful frenzy of release.
"Purr like a cat…wink at a man…and he wink back…fuck that man good…and he fuck ya back…."
She stroked the mic stand like it was a long, hard dick and the audience went crazy, repeating the chorus after her like they were her back-up singers. Lena sang the most vulgar version of the song she knew, drawing out shocked and delighted gasps from the crowd. The dancing became frenetic, primal…transcendent. She let the band play, gyrating her hips slowly in such an erotic way that she aroused herself.
Stepping away from the mic, she let the band finish for her.
She walked past Smoke.
His eyes had a shine in them that gave her goosebumps. He called out to her.
"Lena."
She ignored him, returning to the bar where it grew hectic because customers and staff wanted to flock to her with praise.
"Girl, you are so nasty! I can't believe you got up there and sang that!" Bernice cackled.
"My, my, my," Frank said, "Who knew that type of filth could come out of your mouth?"
Lena accepted the compliments with the chiding and finished her shift.
Smoke stayed away from the bar.
At the end of closing, she sighed and rolled her stiff neck. Max put the day's take in the safe and they both snuck a drink of rye whiskey together.
"You were something else tonight, Miss Lena," Max said, clinking his glass with hers. "They ought to hire you for an engagement here at the Sunset Café. Where you learn to sing like that?"
"Hanging with sailors."
"You too young and pretty for those uncouth ruffians down there."
"I'm not that young," she muttered under her breath so Max couldn't hear.
She was neither young nor old. Timeless. Perhaps eternal if she thought about it more.
"Night, Max. Frank," she said.
"Want me to see you out?" Max asked.
"No, go 'head and finish up."
Lena grabbed her hat and the fur coat that Stack bought her and pulled it on. She stuffed her bag of peanuts in the pockets along with her tips for the night.
The air felt crisp and cool against her face. She inhaled, plopped her hat on her head, and headed left.
Smoke leaned against the building with one foot pressed against it. His blue flat cap was pulled low, nearly hiding his eyes.
"Mr. Moore."
"Headed home?"
"Yeah."
He stared at her. She pulled her coat tighter around her middle.
"You have a nice voice. How come you don't sing instead of working behind the bar?"
She sighed and propped herself next to him on the wall.
"That's not the type of life I want to have."
"What kind of life you want?"
"Not sure. But I enjoy working at the bar. I meet all kinds of interesting characters. It's easy. I hear great music for free. I can watch pretty people in their pretty clothes have fun."
"You got a man?"
She blinked and darted her eyes toward the street that stayed active with night owls. He chuckled.
"What, you married or something?" he said.
"No. Nothing like that. Besides, no man would want to marry me, anyway."
"Why not?"
His probing eyes had an earnestness in them that was refreshing.
"I can't have children. A man doesn't want a woman that can't have his babies."
Something flickered behind his eyes and he glanced down at his shoes.
"What about you?" she said.
"What about me?"
"You with someone?"
He shook his head.
"The life I lead ain't got time for a woman in it."
"So why are you asking me if I have a man?"
She turned in toward him. He leaned a shoulder on the wall and faced her.
"Just curious."
"Why?"
"Cuz if you were my woman, you wouldn't be working."
"What would I be doing?"
Lena stepped closer to him. He lowered his head, and she held her breath, waiting for him to kiss her. Although he had the same face as Stack, Smoke carried a maturity that was beyond his age. He gazed at her lips and she puckered them.
"Let me give you a ride home."
He pulled back and Lena stared at him, miffed that she couldn't taste his lips.
"Okay," she said, once she realized he wasn't going to kiss her.
He opened the passenger side of his red roadster and she climbed in. She gave him her address, and they rode in silence.
"Wait, this isn't my place," she said.
He pulled in front of a building that was fancy and exclusive.
"I know. It's my place."
He climbed out of the car from his side and opened up her passenger door. Helped her out.
The distinguished-looking Black doorman tipped his hat at Smoke and opened the door for them. Lena didn't say a word as Smoke clasped her hand in his and took her toward the elevator.
"Evening, Mr. Moore," the elevator operator said.
Smoke nodded and Lena stood next to him. Her hands shook slightly, and a light sheen of sweat dampened the back of her neck and her thighs. There was no playful banter between them, like Stack would've been doing to make her smile or laugh. Smoke stayed solemn as they stepped off the fifth floor.
At his door, she stopped him from turning the key by placing her hand on his chest.
Something changed within him. His heart beat beneath her fingers. He placed his hand softly over hers, keeping it near his heart.
"Why did you bring me here, Smoke?"
"Because you want to be here. With me."
She swallowed hard. Butterflies danced in her belly.
"How you know that for sure?"
"You been tryin' to get my attention for weeks. Now you have it all."
Her eyes welled up.
He tilted his head.
"Why the tears?"
"I didn't think you wanted me. Just about gave up until tonight."
"I'm glad you didn't. I haven't been attracted to anyone like this in a long time."
He kissed her then…so unexpected…so delicious.
His tongue delved inside her mouth and she let go of any need to control the outcome of their encounter.
He pulled away to finish opening the door.
His apartment was neat. Spacious. The furnishings were brand new. It smelled like pipe smoke and expensive cologne.
"Would you like a drink?"
"Please," she said.
She needed time to get her bearings with him.
He went into his kitchen, and she looked around. The view from his livingroom window overlooked another classy apartment building. There were three bedrooms, a pool table, and a card table in a corner. A nice fireplace with a wide mantel showcased the front room. She took off her coat and hat. Placed them on the couch.
"Big place," she said after he handed her a glass of white wine.
"Courtesy of Al Capone," he said.
"Cost you a lot?"
"Cost me nothing," he said with a wink.
He looked around his place as if seeing it for the first time, too.
"I share this spot it with my brother—"
Lena coughed, and the wine went down the wrong pipe.
"You okay?"
"Yes. Excuse me. Wine is so good I drank it too fast."
She coughed a few more times to clear her throat and put her glass on his coffee table.
"I kinda miss his noisy ass. He'll be back in another week. Lotta shit happening…some expansions coming up."
"Glad to hear things are going well. The stuff I read in the papers is kinda scary…"
He stood in front of her with an intense look in his eyes.
"You're different," he said.
"I'm sure you say that to a lot of women."
She moved around the coffee table to look at the art on the wall. He hung up his coat and put his hat on a rack near the front door.
Lena noticed a phonograph in the room near the fireplace and went to it. She looked at the considerable record collection they had in a box and picked out a Bessie Smith record. Piano cords punctured the stillness of the room and Bessie's mournful voice sang of wanting a little sugar in her bowl.
"You tryna tell me something?" he said.
"Maybe."
Smoke grinned and his face lit up.
She snaked her hips over to him and they slow-danced.
"You're so much better looking when you smile, Mr. Moore."
"Smoke."
"Smoke."
He kissed her forehead before seeking her lips. His kisses were unhurried, and he nibbled on her neck between moments of using his wide tongue to explore her mouth. They kissed and danced to the music, stretching out the foreplay, learning what type of pace they wanted to have for the night.
Lena unbuttoned the first four buttons of his shirt while he pulled down his suspenders.
"What's this?" she asked.
She touched a small leather bag hanging around his neck. Above it sat a necklace made of two silver coins. He touched the coins first.
"This is a necklace me and my brother made when we were in the war together. He has one too. It makes us feel connected when we're apart, y'know? He's the only family I have out here."
"Are your parents still alive?"
He shifted his gaze to her lips again. Evasive.
"My mother is still in Mississippi. My father…he's dead."
"Sorry."
"Don't be. He was mean… some folks say evil. He wasn't always like that. This right here is my mojo. Been wearing it for seven years. My old lady said it's supposed to protect me while I'm away."
"You're married?"
"I was. Common law. Not anymore."
"What happened? To you and your wife. Why didn't it work?"
Smoke fondled his mojo.
"Me and Annie…that was her name…she and I grew up together. She was a Creole from Louisiana. Her folks came out to Mississippi for work when she was little. We had a baby girl together who passed away real young. Almost two months after she was born. That was a tough time for us, and then the war came and…me and Stack…we went overseas. Never went back."
"She still down there?"
"Yeah."
Lena kissed his hand while it still held the mojo bag.
"I think I would've died had you left me," she said.
"That's all in the past."
"I'm sorry about your baby girl. I bet she was a real pretty little one."
He grinned at the memory.
"She was."
"What was her name?"
"Selah."
"Forever."
"Huh?"
"Her name. Selah. It means forever."
"I didn't know that. Forever…"
"Smoke…"
His lids spilled over with tears. Lena tried to wipe them away.
"I didn't mean to make you sad, I'm sorry Smoke…forgive me…please…forgive me."
He sought her lips and kissed away his sorrow. She gave him the passion she held for him and he groaned with the relief at letting go. Sliding her hands around his neck, she held him close. His hands roamed, learning her curves and soft places. Their body heat grew as passion rose higher.
Lena reached down and squeezed his dick. It throbbed in her hand and she groaned.
"Smoke!"
They both moaned between kisses and he fumbled with the button and zipper of his trousers. He threaded his fingers in the back of her curls and forced her to face the mantel. She spread her arms wide and placed her hands on the surface to steady her body for what was to come. He shoved her dress above her hips. Smacking her ass once through her satin panties, he watched it jiggle.
He was an ass man, for sure.
Yanking down her panties, he pulled down his underwear to free his dick. She gasped when he lowered himself and bit both ass cheeks tenderly, then kissed them before dragging his tongue across the cleft of her backside. He kissed the back of her neck, and then whispered in her ear, "Do you want me?"
She shuddered at the heat in her ear as he plunged his tongue in and out.
"Tell me you want me."
"I want you…I want you Smoke!"
She began mewling as he fingered her clit.
"So wet…dripping…Lena…"
The breathiness of his voice had her stomach flip-flopping.
"Fuck me, Smoke. I want your dick!"
He dragged the head against her pubic hairs, parting the center until he reached her slick labia.
"What do you want me to do again?" he teased.
He nibbled on her ear and fingered her, dipping a tentative index and middle finger inside of her. Wiggling his digits, they both heard the gushy sound of her pussy…so ready for him.
"Make love to me."
"Maybe I wanna fuck instead."
She turned to look back at him. The words out of his mouth said one thing. His eyes said another.
"We can do both," she said, pouting her lips, the red lipstick seducing him more.
He entered her slowly, keeping one hand on the arch of her back and the other squeezing her ass cheek. Those needy eyes stayed on her ass. His thrusts were even, and like his brother, his dick tugged on her clit, giving her the friction to keep her overly aroused. She watched his face while he took her. So intense. His mouth parted as she squeezed his dick, sending tight pulses along his erection. He froze up and let her throw it back on him. By then, his hands hovered above her ass, slapping each orb, thrilled to listen to the loud smacking sound. He grunted, then gripped her hips to control the rhythm. Ecstasy lit up his face. Any thoughts of using condoms didn't matter. The man was in there deep and clapping her cheeks with the care that only an ass man could give.
Lena gave him a show, making her cheeks bounce.
"Fuck girl…dassit…give that shit to Daddy!"
She laughed, and he showed all his teeth with his lascivious smile that revealed gums. His lips bunched up when she hit his spot. She moved forward until she was just fucking the tip and he nearly lost his damn mind. He pulled down the top of her dress, trying to hold a breast, and she got off his dick.
Undressing, she took everything off except for her garters and stockings.
Smoke lusted at her nudity. She trembled. So much desire poured out from him through his eyes.
"Damn, you got some beautiful titties. They just stand up high. And your nipples are perfect. You look like one of them statues in a museum."
Her face warmed up from the compliments.
His eyes dropped to the damp hairs hiding her sex.
He took off his clothes and just let them fall to the floor. His dick was a solid mass of pleasure.
"You like what you see?" he said.
He grabbed his dick and fisted himself for her, letting pre-cum drip onto the floor.
Lifting one of her legs, he plunged back into her and fucked the shit out of her while standing up.
He pulled out of her pussy and threaded his fingers with hers, pulling her toward the back of the apartment. They passed two bedrooms. At the third, he picked her up and gently placed her on his enormous bed. She let him feel all over her body, and she did the same to his. Despite having the same physique as Stack, Smoke had pleasure areas that were distinct. Knowing all of Stack's erogenous zones, Lena had fun discovering all of Smoke's.
"Climb on top, yeah…the other way baby, I want to look at that ass while you bounce on me…damn…Lena…"
Glancing back at him again, she took joy in watching the contortions on his face. She gently rubbed and squeezed his nutsack. It felt heavy and so warm in her hand. Stopping her bounces, she let her pussy cradle his dick in wet warmth. His eyes rolled back, and he luxuriated in the feeling of connection.
Lena turned back around to face him, wanting to kiss him while she made love. They entwined fingers, and she held his hands down on the bed.
"You're riding me like you've been wanting this dick," he said.
"I have. As fine as you are, I'd be crazy not to want all this."
He thrust up, and her clit throbbed. Smoke rubbed gentle circles on it, pulling out soft sighs from her lips.
"Can I cum inside you?" he asked.
"Yes."
Her sweat dripped down on him and mingled with the sweat on his skin. She admired his chest and his mojo bag. Touched the silver coins necklace.
"I can make you feel good all the time, Lena. If you let me."
"I want you to. I want you."
"Yeah? I'm a lot to handle."
"I can handle you."
He thrust up and touched a part of her that brought an explosion of stars into her eyes. The slow rotation of his hips felt like the motion of water. It captivated her. She touched his lips. He kissed her fingers. His hands roamed over her breasts, and he pinched her nipples, making her laugh again in delight. His eyes latched onto hers and they remained quiet, staring at one another and mutually rocking against their hot, sweaty flesh.
The sex was slow. Gentle. Freeing.
Her orgasm rippled in strong steady throbs that knocked the breath from her.
"Smoke! Oh…I'm cumming on your dick…you're making me…ooh…ooh…"
The release stretched across her stomach and brought tingles to her nipples. Her toes bunched at his thighs, and Smoke kept pumping into her, thrusting his hips, stretching her walls…capturing her heart. When her mouth fell open, letting out a groan as the next wave of another orgasm exploded out from her, Smoke's body went rigid and he ejaculated. Her insides throbbed with his dick and it was the perfect start to their night together. Glancing at his face, there were shiny tears in his eyes.
They matched the ones that fell from hers.