Copyright © 2023by Latrell R. Morris
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One last swipe of her knife and the masterpiece she’d been working on for a week was complete. She ran her finger along the smooth stone. The first time she’d touched it, warmth radiated onto her fingertips. Now, it’d grown cold, but the form remained. The curves. The sharp angles. She chipped away at the ugly parts and filed and polished them to perfection.
She stepped back, admiring her work. It was beautiful in all its glory. A fine, male specimen carved in shiny black stone. Her regal brown cheeks lit up as she processed the work of art standing before her. She placed a hand on her chin, scanning everything over again.
“I’ve done it again.”
The crowd inside the gallery was bustling with chitter chatter of men and women dressed in black and white. They stood around talking, admiring, and graciously bewildered at the elegant and beautiful sculptures standing before them.
She gazed down and smiled. Behind black sunglasses, her eyes scanned the crowd below. Observing people marveling at her work always sent joyous chills through her body. They’re clueless about exactly what it took for her to get this far.
“Ladies and gentlemen.” A pudgy woman dressed in black said. “I present to you, the woman of the hour. Ms. Maxine Monae.”
An eruption of claps filled the gallery.
Maxine descended the curved stairs. She glowed under the dim, cool lights. The cobalt colored, figure hugging dress that complimented her deep brown skin and hugged every bit of her figure, conformed as she moved down the stairs. A large, black hat kept her tresses hidden underneath. The closer she got to the adorning audience, the wider her berry-stained lips grew. She ate it up, and they were more than willing to feed her.
Maxine sashayed to the microphone. “Good evening, everyone.” Her voice was like warm butter. “Welcome to ‘The Quiet Dark’ exhibit. My tenth sculpture collection. I’m honored to have you all here. Every time I start a collection, I always give immaculate thought to the interpretation I want to present to the world. Meaning, I welcome any and all interpretations, even if they’re wrong.” Some in the audience laughed. “This collection was inspired by the men who…” a devious smile graced her lips, “entered the dark and couldn’t make it to the light. If you know what I’m saying.”
The audience laughed.
“Anyway. I hope you enjoy this collection, as I’ve enjoyed making it.” She picked up a glass of wine sitting on a tray next to her and raised it above her head. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.” The crowd repeated.
She took a drink and let the liquid run down her throat. The sting was exhilarating, like the way they looked at her. She placed the empty glass on the tray and headed into the crowd. Heads turned as she glided across the gallery floor with enticing ease. Celebrities, socialites, city officials, and regular citizens from the community, who scored a hard-to-get ticket, gathered. She greeted everyone with smiles and delicate head nods.
“I love your work.” One woman said as she passed.
She mouthed the words “thank you” and continued gliding along.
Whenever Maxine held a major event, she loved being a spectator; watching the faces of the crowd as they discovered and analyzed the new pieces. What really carried her was the fact that they couldn’t see her eyes beyond the dark glasses. They didn’t know whom her eyes landed on and whom were just a blip in her sight. The array of faces, young and old. The looks of delight and confusion. She welcomed them all. Sometimes she wondered what they were really thinking about her sculptures. However, she never doubted the greatness of her creations, considering she recognized many faces from her previous events. Moreso, she welcomed the looks from willing and available men. Like one gentleman who hadn’t averted his eyes from her all night.
Maxine knew she had him in her web. And by his hungry eyes, he was more than willing to follow through.
He slinked toward her with a cherishing smile. Among the crowd, his mountainous stature was eye-catching. He waded through the sea of people until he finally made it to shore, where he stood in earshot of her.
“Good evening, Ms. Monae.” His voice carried like a river that encountered rough spots. Smooth with rasp. It made her quiver in delight.
“Good evening, Mr.—”
“Theodore James.” His mouth quirked up.
“Mr. James, Theodore. That’s an interesting name. Is it a family name?”
“No. Apparently, my parents wanted something unique and memorable.”
“Well, I’d say they accomplished that. You’re the first Theodore I’ve ever met.”
He smiled. Silence fell between them as he stared at her lips. “You have beautiful lips.”
“Hmm. I bet you’d love to know what they feel like, huh?”
“Ha. Are you reading my mind?”
“No, it’s obvious.”
The keys fell against the counter with a clank. The door closed softly behind them. Theodore’s hand slid across her belly and ascended further to her breasts. A cool feeling moved across her neck as he began licking and kissing the delicate skin.
“You work quick. We barely stepped inside.” She said with a chuckle.
“I know what I want and that’s you.” He slipped his free hand under her dress and moaned in delight at finding her sweet spot. “Damn, you’re wet and ready for me.”
“I surely am. But I have two requests.”
“What are they?”
“I like the lights dim.”
“Whatever you want.”
“And the curtains open.”
“Hell yeah. You’re a freak, I see.”
“Hmm, you have no idea.” She removed his hand from inside her. “Gotta set the ambience.” She strolled to the light switch and turned the dimmer to half. She then walked to the living room window and tore open the curtains. The city skyline proudly glanced back at her.
Theodore threw off his shoes and socks and quickly unbuttoned his shirt to reveal a picture-perfect set of abdomen muscles.
Maxine watched with pleasure.
“You like what you see?” He licked his lips.
“So far and all so good.”
He tittered. “Get ready for the best part.” Zip. His pants fell to his ankles, revealing a large, rock-hard dick.
She hid her gasp. He was more perfect than she’d imagined. Maxine moved to him, and her hands gently caressed his chestnut tinted abdomen, touching every hard lump and bump, presenting itself. Then her hand ran over the small of his back. Nice and tight. Perfect. Her mind wondered over what he’d look like after their session.
Their eyes met, and her hand grabbed his dick. Durable. The perfect piece.
In deed it was. And she was excited to show him. She smiled and twisted to face the cityscape. The straps from her dress slowly fell from her shoulders and down her arms. Bits of blue material crumbled to her feet, freeing her breast and buxom butt.
“Damn.” Theodore grabbed his dick and began stroking himself. Her silhouette alone made him harder.
Maxine removed her glasses and threw them on the sofa.
“Don’t forget the hat.”
But, of course, this was her favorite part. Her hands moved to both sides of the hat, and she slowly lifted it from her head. A cascade of locs descended her back, twisting and wiggling. And wiggling some more.
“What the fuck is wrong with your hair?”
One by one, a string of locs flowed into the air and Maxine spun around, revealing piercing silver metallic eyes and a crooked smile. “You are the perfect sculpture.”
“What the —” His skin stiffened and faded from brown to charcoal in an instant.
Maxine waltzed over to him. Running a hand over every lump and bump of his naturally carved physique. “There’s nothing I need to change here. You’re…perfect.”