Cafe Au Lait

Needles in my heart, a spell on my mind

Your powerful potion, it gets me every time.

I toss and turn, but I can't sleep

Your kiss burns thru my dreams.

Now here it comes again, and I don't stand a chance

Soul possession's got me in a trance.

It's pulling me back, back to you,

Deja Voodoo

Deja Voodoo

Fire in the dark, a poundin' on my brain

Driven by the chant, callin' out my name

I toss and turn, but I can't sleep

Your kiss burns through my dreams.

She never once broke eye contact between us, as her upper body slowly swayed in time to the music. It was like we were having sex through the music. Her eyes had a wild, glazed sheen and her tongue would lick at her lips as if she couldn't keep them wet enough. She gave all the appearance of breathing hard, her bosom rising and falling perceptibly, her mouth open and gasping. I'd never seen a more openly sexual creature in my life while looking at her in that moment. It was raw and animalistic. It was palpable. Yet we were fully clothed and separated by several yards and quite a few people. What in God's name would happen if we were to actually come together physically?

When the song was over, I announced a short break and got myself a Maker's Mark on the rocks. I sat down across from her at her table with my best smile.

"I'd normally be enjoying a panatella with this bourbon right now, but, inasmuch as I was about to talk with my physician, I figured that might be a bad move."

"I'm not in my lab coat tonight Tommy." She said with a smile, "If you were perfect, you'd be on the right hand of God. Although, judging by the way some of these women act while you're singing, you're pretty much there already."

"So what did you think?"

"You guys are good, damn good. That girl on keyboards is very talented. Both the guitar players are smokin' hot, especially the little blond, although she looks more like a Punk Rocker than a Blues musician. The drummer's tight. I'm kinda partial to the singer and bass player though. You've got mad skills on that bass, and your voice is like whiskey soaked velvet. I'm very impressed to say the least. I found myself alone tonight and thought I'd come check out one of my favorite patients."

"We're glad to have you. If you hang around, I'll introduce you to the guys and girls after the show. I'll warn you beforehand though. I told them about the 'incident' at the exam. They'll not fail to break my balls about it again. I just wanted to warn you."

Nan was a hit with the band. Lynn and Tina immediately got a conspiratorial look on their faces and blockaded her in a corner. God only knew what that was all about, though I had a sneaking suspicion. At any rate, when everybody was finally out the door and on their way home, I found myself alone in the parking lot with my favorite doctor.

"Tommy, I don't want you to think me an overly forward woman, but I'm not ready for the night to end. Is there a chance that we could have another drink or two, maybe at your place?"

"I don't think you overly forward, as I quite frankly feel the same way. Hop in your car and follow me. My house is about fifteen minutes from here."

She never got her drinks. We barely made it into the house and got the door shut before we were all over each other. I've always loved to kiss a woman who knew how to do it and who got into it. Nan was capable on both accounts. Her body felt so good molded against mine as I explored her delicious lips, licking and nibbling. Our tongues danced together as I let my hands roam up and down her back, finally cupping her delicious buttocks. They were so delightfully soft and yet, at the same time, firm.

"Take me to your bed Tommy, or I swear to God I'm going to have you right here on the floor."

Never one to disappoint a lady, I swept her up in my arms and carried her to my bedroom. Setting her down beside the bed, I continued to kiss her hungrily, as I unbuttoned her blouse and removed it. I then quickly pulled off her shoes and removed her pants, laying her on top of the wedding ring patterned quilt in her bra and panties. I removed my own clothing as I gazed down on her, her treasures only barely disguised by the filmy white material of her undergarments.

"You're my first, you know." I informed her softly, with a blushing grin.

"I thought you were a widower...how can I be your first?" She responded, her face a mixture of lust and confusion.

"I've never been with a...a black woman before, or a doctor, for that matter."

"Oh, so I not only get to be a representative for my race, but my profession as well. You wouldn't put a girl under any pressure would you?"

I gathered her to me as I began kissing her lips and stroking her soft skin. "My dear woman, we could stop right now and I couldn't remember too many times when I've had a woman excite me more. It can only get better from this point on. And I'm the one under pressure. I want you to enjoy this night. I want to make love to you until you beg me to stop. All I ask is that you not rush me. I want this to last and be right."

She not only looked and felt good, she smelled and tasted good. I soon had her naked and began kissing her neck and throat. I would move up to her ear and kiss and lick it, now and again nibbling at her earlobe. My fingers of my right hand were lightly stroking her heavy breasts. They were very sensitive and lush. Her nipples were long and thick and both they and her aureoles were a milk chocolate brown. I soon began kissing and nibbling my way down to her right breast, while my fingers concentrated on teasing away at the nipple of the left one. Her reaction was most favorable as I began kissing and licking away at that beautiful orb, slowly circling inward toward my final goal, the nipple.

As my mouth closed over it, she began to moan and coo in excitement, and I felt her right hand enclose the rigid shaft of my cock. She began to slowly and gently stroke along its length. That wonderful sensation was making it mightily difficult to concentrate on the task at hand, but I strove valiantly on. I reversed my right hand, lightly and slowly dragging my fingernails from her breast down to her stomach. With that steady slowness I began heading toward her pubic mound, as I began alternating my oral attention on the other breast as well.

Her mound was nearly bare, with just a small "landing strip" right above the slit. I used my hand to spread her legs wide, and then I began to stroke lightly all around her sex, from the top of her vulva to the tops of both her soft thighs.

"You're...being an awful...tease." She gasped huskily.

"I'm not being a tease. I'm being thorough, building up excitement. Be patient and it will pay off."

Sure enough, when my middle finger began lightly stroking her labia and through the deliciously wet slit, her hips began to buck violently and her moans went up a few degrees in intensity. It inflamed me to feel how wet her sex was. I began to gradually increase the pressure of my finger, alternating between plunging it softly into her vaginal canal, and circling her distended clit. At long last, I homed in on her love button, gently flicking it with my finger.

"Oh, dear God, you're making me cum!" She cried out, her body shuddering.

I didn't stop there. I backed off from manipulating her clit, as I didn't want to over stimulate it and make it go numb. I did start feeling around inside her velvety canal in an attempt to find her G Spot. It didn't take long to do so, and I was rewarded with feeling her push her pubic mound into my palm. She was shaking her head from one side to the other and groaning. Her right hand was still squeezing and stroking my cock, and her left hand had taken a firm grip on my hair. I figured the time was right, so I added my thumb to the assault, using it to stroke her clit.

Her body literally started shaking like she had made contact with a live wire. Her language had degenerated into complete gibberish, and her heels were drumming on the quilt covering the bed.

"Oh, that's another one!" She announced, nearly out of breath, "Please put it in me!"

"Not quite yet, pretty lady!" I whispered with a chuckle, "I've got to see if that little pussy of yours tastes as good as it looks. Remember, I asked you not to rush me"

"Oh, Tommy, you're killing me."

I began, with maddening slowness, kissing my way down her soft, flat stomach. I took my time once I reached her delightful little navel, both kissing it and exploring its depths with my tongue. Finally I felt that closely trimmed pubic hair brush my cheek. I quickly spun my body around until I was lying between her splayed legs. Grasping her ankles, I placed her feet on my shoulders, and let her legs fall open. There, just inches from my face, her sex was displayed in all its glory and vulnerability.

It was gorgeous. Due to all the previous stimulation, it was blood engorged, and was a most unusual color, a blend of pink and dark purple. It was noticeably wet, and even from this distance I could detect its heady aroma. It was musky, earthy, with spiciness beyond description. In a near daze I leaned in and began my feast, nuzzling and kissing all around its perimeter. Once I finally moved in to its center, I would take long licks from her little brown starfish right up to the base of her clit's hood. I would force my tongue into the canal and flick it in and out. I made geometric shapes, circles, triangles, and cubes. I traced the letters of the alphabet, both upper and lower case. I eventually moved my middle finger in and began rubbing her spot, while my tongue sought out her clit, taking light swipes around its perimeter. I could hear her suck in her breath rapidly, while with both hands she tried to pull my face even closer to her. When at last I sucked her clit into my mouth, she went wild. While my lips applied gentle suction to the entire hood, my tongue rimmed the clit proper, occasionally flicking it. With a keening wail, she stiffened, shuddered, and collapsed.

At eight inches, and with a decent circumference, I'm a little bigger than average. Thanks to the juiciness of her canal I had no trouble sliding in however. I still took it slow, and once I bottomed out, I let it rest in order for her to become adjusted to my presence inside her. I could tell she was ready when her hips began pressing upwards toward me. She was obviously suffering no discomfort, as she was matching each stroke I made with an upstroke of her hips. It was such a delicious sensation. Her heat and wetness were beyond description. Feeling her body respond only added to the experience. Her thighs would clench and unclench around my hips and waist. I could feel her fingernails scratch up and down my back, from the base of my neck to the cheeks of my ass. Her breathlessly whispered endearments were just further icing on the cake. The thought came unbidden to my mind that it was a good thing I'd been spending lots of time with Rosie Palm and her five daughters in the shower each day. Otherwise this would have been over a long time ago. Soon, I could hold out no longer, and I felt my own orgasm coming up from my swollen testicles. As I flooded her vaginal canal and gave my last few shuddering strokes, she arched her back and squealed through one last orgasm of her own.

"Sweet Jesus, that was amazing." She moaned into my ear as I collapsed beside her, taking her into my arms, "Was I good for you too?"

"Nan, if you had made me feel any better, you'd be performing CPR right now. It was even better than I'd dreamed it would be."

"So, you've been plotting this in your evil little mind, huh?"

"I wanted you about thirty seconds after you walked into that exam room three weeks ago. I just never dreamed it would actually happen."

"Okay, since it's true confession time, that day started it for me too. But when you sang that song tonight, it pushed me right over the edge. I felt like I was the only woman in the place, and you were singing to me. I could feel your desire, your need, and your frustration. I was getting wet for God's sake."

That night started my new relationship. You'd think I was in Nirvana. Indeed, I was ecstatic when I had any time with Nan. The sex was just incredible. That wasn't the extent of the relationship either. She was an extremely intelligent woman and could converse on a wide range of subjects. We had much in common in music, literature, our tastes in films and television shows. We differed slightly on the subjects of religion and politics, but those two subjects I like to tread lightly around to start with. Politics especially were touchy if I got involved in a discussion, as I was a Libertarian, and thought the Republicans and the Democrats were both full of crap. My band mates were glad to see me focused on a romantic interest as well. So what, then, was the fly in the ointment?

The answer was pretty simple actually. I was falling head over heels in love with this delightful creature. Any attempt on my part to try and hint of my feelings toward Nan were gently rebuffed by her. She told me that her life was complicated, and we needed to take this thing easy and give it time. And time itself was part of the problem. I might only get to see her for a couple or three hours once a week, and maybe once every three weeks she would spend the night, or some portion of it, at my house. This, coincidentally, usually happened the night of a show.

As the weeks went on, disturbing thoughts began to creep into my mind. First, I noticed that she called me every day during the week, Monday through Friday, but hardly ever at night. There were calls on the weekend, but they were scarce as hen's teeth. Also, in all this time, we always met at my house, never hers. Now, I was born at night, but it wasn't last night, you dig? I was beginning to get the unsettling feeling that I was a "backdoor man" if you will. If she was to be involved with someone else, or God forbid married, and here I was running around carrying a torch for no one but her, well let's just say that situation would not stand. As Mama always told me, "What's sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander."

It didn't take long to find out the truth. All I had to do was borrow a car from a friend so my very distinctive orange '68 Ford Torino Cobra didn't get spotted. I wore a baseball cap and tucked my long hair up under it, and wore some wrap around shades. When Nan left work in her BMW, I gave her a two block lead and followed her home. With my thermos of coffee and a couple sandwiches and chips, I settled down as unobtrusively as possible to recon the area, parking a few doors down from her house. Sure enough, about an hour after she arrived, a flashy Mercedes sedan pulled into her driveway. A distinguished looking black man dressed in a suit and tie emerged and let himself into the house. I copied down his license plate number and drove away. The rest was simple, thanks to a distant cousin who was a city police officer. The plate was for a black Mercedes, registered to a Dr. Nathan William Overbay. It appeared I was the "other man."

I played it cool. She called me the next day and let me know she would be at the show Saturday night. I didn't let the cat out of the bag. I decided to make my statement at the show, and end this mess where it all got started. There's an old saying that music is the universal language, and I decided to let the music do the talkin'.

Saturday night the house was packed. The fans were consuming their libations of choice, and a good time was being had by one and all. It was as if we could do no wrong, we were tight, and the set list was just right. We'd lift 'em up a little while, and then throw a few Blues tunes into the mix that would damn near have them cryin' in their drinks. I'd already let the troops know there was a special song on the set list, so they'd be ready when I announced it.

She looked damned good when I spotted her, sitting nearly where she was the first time she came to hear us. She was dressed in white, if you can imagine that, a sleeveless tight number with a short hem. Her spike heels were white as well. Needless to say, the innocence of that color was somewhat wasted on my darling lover, what with the knowledge I now had in my head.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to send this one out to a special friend in the audience tonight." I announced with a casual grin," She'll know who she is."

The song was as definitely appropriate for tonight as the one I'd sang the first time she'd been here. It was an old Allman Brothers' Band staple, titled "One Way Out." It was about a man trapped in a second floor apartment with a woman he was cheating with. He was trapped because some shadowy figure was lurking around outside the buildings' entrance, and he had no idea if he was the woman's old man or not.

Ain't but one way out Baby

But Lord I just can't go out that door.

Ain't but one way out Baby

And Lord I just can't go out that door.

Cause there's a man down there

He might be your man, I don't know...

The circumstances were much the same as the first time as I sang to her, singling her out of the crowd and pouring out my heart to her. The results, as you might imagine, were drastically different. I could see the realization in her eyes that the jig was up. Even at the distance I was from her, I could see her chin begin to quiver, and a tear slide down that beautiful coffee and cream cheek. She picked up her handbag, rose to her feet, and strode from the room. Despite the fact that I had got my point across in a fairly dramatic fashion, it was a Pyrrhic victory, for as she strode from that ball room, a big piece of Tommy Lee Stuart's heart went with her.

So now I'm drinking my coffee with not only cream, but with some of Kentucky's finest as well. The questions keep coming as I once again take a hit from the glass pipe. Was Nan just a cheating slut that saw someone she wanted and went after him, and kept doing so until the ride was over? On the other hand, was she trapped in a marriage that was unsatisfactory, with the love gone and the ashes cold, if indeed there had been any ashes to begin with? I much preferred that scenario. It left her, and me, in a better light. In that scenario, there was mutual love and caring, until the fragile house of cards had been blown down.

The hell of it all is that the questions could never really be answered either way. She had lied to me, or at least failed to give me the full truth, which in my book was the same. The poison of doubt was now planted deep in my mind, forever there to remain. Even if she divorced the good doctor and came to me free of her marriage, I'd be waiting to be the next man shot out of the saddle.

Epilogue

Several months have passed since Nan and I had our brief but intense affair. I talked to her days after she walked out of the Cumberland House and I at least got her side of the story. She chose to give me scenario number two, which was that she had what had been basically a prearranged marriage. The sad thing, according to her, was that not only did she not love her husband, but did not particularly like him either. She basically tolerated him. She also swore up and down that I was the only man she had ever cheated on him with.

The thing was, it was a Catch 22 situation. Her dishonesty and adultery had destroyed any chance of our relationship continuing. Had she been upfront from the beginning, I would probably never have slept with her in the first place. It was maddening situation, but in the end, despite my feelings for her, I finally made her understand we had no future. Believe it or not though, we remained friends. Now and then she even shows up at our shows.

I will give her one thing. She, at least, opened me up to the possibility of loving another woman again. There are some delicious looking little fillies willing to hook up with a musician, and I'm starting to notice the old hunger coming back. There's a catchy little tune we cover by Lynard Skynard about those little ladies that sum up my feelings perfectly.