Decadence (15 page)

As the chandeliers brightened the club,
many headed toward the showers. On the way to the dressing area Rosetta and I, heels in hand, stepped over the members who would have sex, the ones who would still be making love when the workers started running vacuum cleaners, the members who would sleep or fornicate on the furniture until someone in management was sent in to politely ask them to stop making love and call it a night. I found the Indian woman who had been in Eros at the same time that I had been, I found her inside of the undressing area. She was sitting on a pink DECADENCE towel that had been placed on a red leather sofa. She was alone in a crowd of excited women. She looked woebegone as she drank wine and wiped tears from her eyes. Instantly, I saw me years ago. Her lugubrious expression trumped whatever I felt at that moment. It was the way I felt when I had broken up with Chris in college. Heartbroken. Shattered. My anger, my rage that had begun to drive me, was placed in neutral and parked.

I went to her, cautiously, and asked, “Have you been here alone all evening?”

She tried to change her dismal expression. “A while.”

Her mood made all of the joy and frolicking around her spleenful, almost callous. I sat on her left side. Rosetta sat on her right, her face also painted with concern. It was then that the Indian woman ran her fingers across her henna, drummed her fingers on her thighs, took a few breaths. She struggled to pretend that she was fine. She lost the battle. Tears fell and the Indian woman wiped them away.

Eventually she nodded and said, “Yes. We went to swim. After we made love we went to swim. Then I came here. I sat down. Alone.”

“Did he make love to you again?”

“No.”

I sat next to the Indian woman, consoled her, hugged her. The women in the room turned away from her as if she were less than worthy. I befriended her. She told me that she was from a matriarchal society, where the men were uninspired, insignificant, and emasculated.

She said, “Add up those things, all that produces, for the most part, is a very immature and selfish breed of men.”

The lights flashed three times in rapid succession.

I said, “The club is about to close.”

“I know. This is the last hour. He will be waiting for me.”

“You are not happy.”

“I have never been so unhappy in my life.”

Soon she went to the shower. She was going to the shower, frustrated and disappointed, and would use a water head to seek orgasm. As she went, she looked back at me, and smiled a sad smile.

I went to claim the shower next to hers. Minutes later, her body still wet, she had come to be with me while I showered. I didn't ask her to. She just came. Stood outside of my shower door.

She said, “You are angry.”

“I am. I have had a lot of fun, have had many orgasms, but I saw someone . . . I'm tense.”

“I can help you to relax.”

“What is your name?”

“Chandra Maharaj.”

“Chandra, I'm Nia. Nia Simone Bijou.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you.”

I pushed my glass door open and with a nod gave her permission to come and join me, then with a second nod gave her permission to touch me. With a nod she gave me the same permission.

Chandra said, “May I give you a very loving massage?”

“You may.”

“Breathe through your nose.”

“Okay.”

“Breathe deeply.”

“Okay.”

“Relax and I will massage you.”

We inhaled and exhaled together. We connected.

She put her hand on my chest, over my heart, then came closer, put her other hand over my ass, covered my buttock, did that as hot water covered us, as steam rose, and made me feel as if I were breathing through my yoni, as if my yoni were inhaling and exhaling. Her hand covered my yoni. She touched me. Studied me as I received her touch, as we breathed together with heated water bouncing from our flesh. She gave me her physical blessing, her chakra, and even though I had thought that I was done making love for the night, her touch awakened a deeper part of me, energized me, and forced away bits and pieces of the negative energy Chris had delivered into my world. It broke up the energy that came from once again seeing and being in the same space with Siobhán. It was more healing than sexual. Chandra massaged me as if we were in an ancient ritual, touched me as if that part of my body were the most beautiful place on earth. My sexual energy was in her hands. I let down my walls and fell into a state of arousal.

I said, “Your lover wasn't this good with you.”

“No.”

“His mind is not open to many things.”

“No.”

“He won't take classes?”

“No. He'd never do that. He thinks he knows it all.”

Rosetta was outside the shower door. She watched.

Chandra smiled.

As she shifted, as she said she was leaving, I stopped her.

I said, “You deserve to be pleased by someone.”

I asked her to show me the same, how to make her come, how to give her relief, how to massage her yoni, her spirit, until calmness returned. Shuddering she had put her hand on my hand, led my finger to her spot, and directed me, showed me how to move two fingers in circles, where to apply pressure, how to vibrate my hand.

Rosetta stepped inside of the shower.

Chandra said, “Hello.”

“I'm Rosetta.”

“I watched you earlier in the night. Amazing.”

Rosetta asked Chandra, “May I?”

Chandra smiled and nodded.

My fingers rapidly strumming her clit, I watched them as their energy intertwined. Rosetta lapped Chandra's breasts slowly, admired them, squeezed them, sucked on Chandra's dark nipples and touched her damp skin. Chandra's hand found Rosetta's yoni. As she had done me, she massaged Rosetta. Rosetta's mouth opened like a guppy and she panted. I slapped Rosetta's ass as she moaned and she sucked Chandra's breasts again. Watchers. Women stood at the steamed shower door and watched our ceremony as we gave healing to our frustrated sister, as we all healed one another, I had helped Chandra give an angel its wings. I massaged Chandra as Chandra massaged Rosetta and Rosetta massaged me. Chandra had a wonderful, spiritual, leg-trembling release that told me it had been a while. A long while. That night her frustration ended. She had needed to come. She had come wonderfully. When she was done she turned to Rosetta and went down on her, her tongue giving gratitude. She made Rosetta come as I massaged her soft breasts. That evening Rosetta and I had become a team, or maybe more than a team since she knew me in ways no one else did. It felt like we were instant best friends.

After we finished, Chandra dressed and left before we did, sans makeup, as her husband had been waiting for a while.

Siobhán appeared, stepped into a shower as I was getting dressed. When she exited the shower, she stood four lockers away from me. We made eye contact a few times, but not a single word was said.

Rosetta left with me, she too dressed in business attire, looking like an exhausted CEO. We mixed with the lethargic crowd as it took the elevator and returned to the main lobby.

It was a grand lobby, just as dramatic as the rest of the edifice.

Messages were waiting for me. A woman named Margareta had left me her information. Printed photos were attached with messages. Margareta was the Brit who had been with Quince. She and Quince had left a while ago and she asked me to call her if I was staying in the area. Tomorrow she was flying back to the UK. The other message was from Ricardo and Yesenia. Ricardo had been my lover from Curaçao, the man who had pleased me and taken me into many orgasms as my ex had stood in the room and watched me. They had left their number.

Rosetta said, “You have had one helluva night.”

“Like no other.”

“Do you have a room somewhere nearby?”

“All I need is coffee. I can make it. Have a lot to do today.”

“Look, hardhead. Let me give you my cellular. Call me and we can talk while you're driving.”

We hugged and while I stood in the long line at valet, Rosetta took her large purse and headed toward the section for those who wanted to catch taxis. Inside, I had been bold, sensuous, angry, ravenous, arrogant, and obnoxious. Now, removed from the world of fantasy, a wave of shyness washed over me.

Removed from the energy that was inside of the club, removed from being caught inside the waves of a tsunami of sexual energy, everyone remained beautiful, but expressions were different. We stood in front of a building built like Château d'Esclimont in France, a site that sat on one hundred and fifty acres. There were a dozen lakes in the distance. Members could come here and horseback ride as well. Outside, many sipped on cups of cappuccino, coffee brought by servers, along with pastries and fruit.

Chris Eidos Alleyne and Mrs. Siobhán Kline-Alleyne exited.

They saw me.

I had stood where I would be visible. I wasn't hiding.

I saw them. She turned away from my eyes. Intimidated. Pissed off. Couldn't tell. She held her husband's hand and they moved beyond valet and stepped inside of a stretch limo that was waiting for them in the private car section. That reminded me of the aftermath of our horrible days in college, when I would see them walking across campus, or hear about them at an event that I had refused to attend. It was happening all over again. Back then he carried her books and now he was pulling her carry-on luggage. It looked weighed down. I guess that she was one of the women who brought dozens of pairs of shoes and more makeup than they had at the Mac counter.

I stood stunned. Jaw tight. Chest heaving.

From the inside of her taxi, Rosetta caught my attention, waved as her rented chariot pulled away. Her face was colored with worry and concern. As soon as she drove away she sent me a text.

IF YOU DON'T CALL ME TONIGHT I WILL CALL YOU. I WON'T BE ABLE TO SLEEP WITHOUT KNOWING THAT YOU ARE OKAY. AND I PROMISE THAT I WILL ALSO CATCH YOU ON THE WEST COAST. AND BTW, WHAT WE DID ON THE LEATHER SOFA WAS HOT. AND ANOTHER BTW, SEND ME A TEXT EVERY THIRTY MINUTES OR SO UNTIL YOU'RE HOME.

Then someone touched my shoulder. It was a strong hand with a soft touch. It was my zipless lover from Curaçao and his wife. He was in a dark gray suit, she in a beautiful red dress. Her figure was amazing. They looked like the covers of
GQ
and
Vogue
magazines side-by-side. They smiled. I was surprised. Then I smiled too.

I said, “I thought that you had left the building a long time ago.”

She said, “We were leaving, then we decided to go swimming again. I could swim all night if they let me. Then we played upstairs.”

“Oh.”

He said, “This is my wife, Dr. Yesenia Watson-Quirindongo.”

“I am Nia Simone Bijou.”

Yesenia said, “Nice to meet you, Nia Simone.”

“Likewise. And what is your name?”

He said, “I am Dr. Quirindongo. Ricardo. Just Ricardo is fine.”

His wife raised a brow. “Sweetheart, no. Don't tell me that you hadn't introduced yourself?”

“No. We hadn't exchanged names.”

“Where are your manners? You don't put your dick in a woman without saying hello.”

We laughed.

He said, “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Dr. Ricardo Juliao Quirindongo and I was born in Curaçao in a suburb north of Willemstad and east of Bonam. Is that better, my proper wife?”

“Yes. Much better. Don't believe you put your dick in a woman and didn't introduce yourself.”

I asked her, “Are you from Curaçao as well?”

“Oklahoma. But one of my grandparents on my mother's side is Haitian and Anguillan.”

I smiled. “You are an island girl.”

“Not really, but I guess that in some ways you can say it's part of my heritage. I have never visited Haiti nor have I gone to Anguilla.”

Yesenia said that she was born in Geronimo, Oklahoma. They had been married for five years. Seeing someone every day, sharing the same roof and walls, it changed everything. Her husband held her hand and agreed. They split for a few months before reuniting, before rewriting their vows, before opening up their marriage. First she had opened herself to women, did that because he wasn't fully comfortable being penetrated by another man, and she wasn't sure if her husband could really handle seeing her being penetrated by another man, even though he had no problems penetrating women. She had enjoyed her one-on-one with other women more than she had imagined. Being with a woman was new to her. Had felt natural, she said. She still wanted to experience my femininity. And she wasn't shy about her desires with her spouse. That aroused her husband. They said that they loved each other more. The only thing missing was a unicorn.

She asked, “If you might be interested, let us know.”

“I'll definitely let you know.”

“We're going to Hawaii soon. Would love to take you with us.”

“I'll consider the proposition, something new to try for a while, to see if it fits my lifestyle. To be honest, it would definitely fit my needs. I would be free to come and go, wouldn't be smothered, right?”

“You would be.”

Chris Eidos Alleyne and his wife's limo pulled away from the magnificence of this edifice. Again it felt like he had left first. I had wanted my car to arrive sooner. I had wanted to leave first, put him behind me. When his limo had disappeared, when he was no longer a part of my truth, I exhaled and felt calmer. Ricardo and Yesenia's town car appeared to carry them to their hotel. We kissed like lovers. She urged him to kiss me. I allowed him to give me his tongue. He urged her to do the same. We stood in the crowd and shared a girl kiss, one that made the people in our area applaud. We did a group hug thing, faces close, three tongues painting one another, kissed like lovers.

Then they were gone.

If possible, I would have gone with them, woken up as a unicorn.