Onika Maraj
New Rochelle, NY
And, so, I agreed.
What I'd expected to be a simple, private dinner amongst us two turned out to be much more. As I slid into the plum colored dress that Beyoncé had delivered to the door, small fine bumps rose across my skin. The coolness of the fabric had brought me to chills.
I'd been desperate to see the contents of the box since it had been delivered three hours ago before I was ushered to the salon. Beyoncé was pulling out all of the stops. I didn't quite understand why I considered anything less of her.
As I stood in the full-length mirror, I admired the way the simple - yet, overly expensive gown - complimented my figure. While it didn't cling to me like paint, it did little to disguise my curves. My hair had been flat ironed straight. I was in love.
The time for me to join Beyoncé at her dinner table had come. I grabbed the studded clutch, which added spice to my attire and had been another gift of Beyoncé's, before descending the steps. The lone box that sat on the counter, wrapped in red paper with a shiny bow on top, caused my smile to reach my ears. She was simply too much.
Since she'd admitted her feelings and fears, I was more receptive to her method of handling situations, even ours. I'd decided to let her have her way, knowing that everyone went about things differently. And, in the last twenty-four hours, I hadn't regretted it one bit.
Beneath the single layer of thick red wrapping paper was a gift set complete with Chanel perfume, lotion and a travel size in both. The letter tapped to the opposite side of the box was simple, reading... Something to remember you by.
I took a whiff of the fragrance and was immediately intrigued. "Damn. This smells good." Four puffs later and I was confident that I'd truly be remembered.
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Beyoncé Knowles
Knowles Residence
New Rochelle, NY
Skipping dinner and opting for dessert seemed more tangible seeing her walk through the door of my home. For an entire week, I'd been relishing at the moment when she crossed my threshold. She brought character to the hollowed dwelling, immediately. God had been on my side because otherwise I would've let this beauty saunter out of my life due to my inflexibility and been suffering from the side effects of her for the duration of my life.
Now, I understood what my father meant when they said, "For the right one you'll bend. For the right one, you'll even break. But, most importantly, for the right one, you'll build." He'd done the same for my mother, ultimately breaking and being buried just beside her so that they could remain together forever.
I tossed around in my glass, the single ice cube that was keeping it cooled hitting the sides with a ding. Her hair had been straightened, just as I'd requested. The red dress I'd rushed from my seamstress was spectacular, engaging in a rush down below as she continued in my path.
Thankfully, I was seated. When she was near enough, I'd greet her with open arms. But, for now, I allowed her to strut her shit like I knew she wanted to. Highly favored, I had front row seats to her runway show. With that beautiful smile, I was held hostage in honor of my personal will.
Onika etched away at the distance between us two, pulling me from my seat and forcing me forward. Drink still in my left hand; I wrapped my hand around her upper neck with my right. I could smell the indulgence on her skin, igniting the beast within me. Taking my tongue to her upper lip, I swiped before being invited into her warm mouth.
"You're highly intoxicating."
Just as the weed I was certain she'd smoked before preparing for dinner. I could taste it on her tongue, even though it was tucked under a rigorous cleansing process she'd created to conceal her addiction. In actuality, I was aroused by the naughtiness she possessed. I wondered what else those lips could do. I had shit much bigger for her and I wondered if she could...
"Can you feed me? I have the munchies." She confessed, causing us both to chuckle.
Soundlessly, I led her into the main dining area, where we would be having dinner. There was a bottle of Rosè waiting for her at the far end of the table. Now that she was here, I was rethinking the decision to dine at the larger table. She seemed so far away from my appointed position as I pulled her chair out and waited for her to sit.
So, instead of returning to my end, I settled for the chair next to hers, on the right side. She was at the end in one of the central seats. For a few seconds, I simply stared at her.
"What?" Her cheeks flushed. "It's makeup, Beyoncé. You wear it." Nervously, she squirmed in her chair.
"Did I pay for that service, too?" I'd paid for so much that I wasn't aware of all that was covered.
"No. I did it myself."
"Do you mind removing it?" Gently, I preferred her naked. Her silence spoke loudly. "Are you offended by my request."
"I'm not. I just... wanted to look pretty."
"You're beautiful," I assured her.
"Then what is the problem."
"There is none. You're fine without it. Plus, it disguises one of the most unique parts of you."
As I spoke, I removed the napkin from the table and downed it in the glass of water that sat before her. leaning forward, I swiped it across her face. Relief washed over me as a little marks peeked through the paint that covered her skin. Though stubborn, I was able to clear her face by the time Beatriz appeared with the first course of our meal. Onika had demanded that I didn't bother her lashes or eye makeup. I caved, neither was really a factor to me.
"Ms. Knowles, should I bring your tableware?" Beatriz was the family's chef.
We'd all required her services one time or another. She catered family dinners, gatherings, weddings, brunches and any other occasion we needed food. My mother and father had invested in her catering business after purchasing a cake from her one day while Beatriz was still on the rise. Each night, she'd bake cakes and pies and sell them from her car to make ends meet. She'd began as our dessert lady, but the relationship and her skills morphed into something much more beautiful.
"Yes."
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Onika Maraj
Knowles Residence
New Rochelle, NY
I was stuffed to capacity. Beyoncé had filled my stomach to the brim and dinner hadn't concluded even five minutes ago, yet, she had filled my pussy as promised.
Her thrusts were so meticulous, hitting my spot each time she pushed into me.
"Beyoncé. Wait." I moaned. "Please. Let me undress."
We didn't make it to her bedroom.
We didn't make it up the stairs.
We didn't make it into the hallway.
In fact, we never made it out of the dining hall.
On the table I'd just had dinner, Beyoncé had me.
"Fuck this dress." She whispered reaching forward and tugged at the thin fabric until it ripped.
I wasn't wearing a bra, so my breast flung from underneath the minute they were given ample space. Beyoncé's tongue exited her mouth and swiped across her lips, causing a ripple between my legs. This woman was ungodly. She wasn't good for my health. After I was done binging on her , I'd surely have cavities. Certainly, I was willing to run the risk of a sweet tooth or two if it meant a taste of her.
Beyoncé tore the dress to shreds, awarding my body freedom. I actually wanted to keep the dress, so I was a bit sour about the fact that it wasn't wearable, anymore. She didn't give me much time to sulk before diving in.
Hungrily, she devoured my breast, one by one. They perfectly into her mouth. My imperfections meant nothing to Beyoncé. She embraced them with pride, sending me over the edge as I rained on her shaft.
"Ah. Shit. Aw Shit."
"Cum for me, baby girl." She moaned, signs that she was near her ending as well.
The universe spun and the stars aligned as I surrendered to my calling. Small needles felt as if they were poking my midsection; my stomach felt as if someone had balled it in a knot and my head became fuzzy. I pulled Beyoncé nearer, deeper as if it was even possible as I misplaced my soul trying to win her in return.
"Mmmmm. Shit." Beyoncé hummed as I felt her jerking inside of me.
We'd been so careless with our involvement, and I prayed that we were spared of new life. The first chance I was given, I would be getting new birth control. With my extended - unintentional - period without sex, I had stopped taking them altogether.
"We have to be more careful," I whispered but was silenced with a kiss.
"Nothing will happen that isn't meant." Beyoncé spoke onto my lips. "Come on. I need to bathe you."
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Water was the only thing between us two and even that couldn't keep us separated as we finished our second round. Beyoncé's shower was to die for. It was enormous in size with three shower heads, one hanging from the ceiling, which was clear. The stars hosted our shower session, intensifying my craving and my climax.
"I should get back on my side of the tracks. I have a feeling I'll never get any sleep if I stay the night with you. Besides, that's kind of moving fast. It's only the first date."
I began as I felt the soft sponge she held in her hand swiping across my back. Closing my eyes, I enjoyed the feeling of us, unashamed and uncovered. We were both in the rawest form.
"Wow." I heard her chuckle.
The sound of her voice was becoming the best I'd ever heard. She was speaking more, opening up and becoming more comfortable with conversing. I didn't care if she never spoke another word to the public. It was me I wanted her to talk to, even if I was the only person she ever mumbled a syllable to.
"Don't you think?"
"I think you're right about not getting any sleep, but you're a bit too late on the entire first date theory. I just fucked you. I doubt if spending the night overrides that."
"I think it does." I pushed backward, rubbing my ass against her.
"Your pussy is out of commission, love. You couldn't even walk up the stairs." She was right. Beyoncé had carried me up her enormous, never-ending staircase.
"But I could slide up and down that dick just a minute ago."
"With assistance. Now, quiet. Relax."
The hot water and methodical strokes of Beyoncé's sponge helped me to do just as she'd requested. My hair had returned to its curly state, and I had no reservations about the fact either. I'd made a promise to purchase a flat iron to press my hair every once in a while. It wouldn't be very often, though. The task was simply exhausting.
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I didn't stay, though I wanted to. It was imperative that I didn't develop habits that I wouldn't be able to keep consistent. Soon, I'd be in my own place and didn't want to second-guess the decision due to the comfort I'd gained at hers. This arrangement was temporary, no matter how acquainted we got between now and the day that I moved into my own.
Leaving her had been a task, but I was successful. As I stared out into the open sky on the balcony after rolling and lighting a spliff, I realized that for the first time in nearly five months I felt at peace. It wasn't utter peace, but the bit that I had was reassuring. I knew that I was headed down the path that would lead me to even more.
Beyoncé Knowles. One week and she'd become my source of contentment. Recalling the day that we met, I chuckled. She'd been so intimidating and so damn blunt. But, still, I couldn't brush her off. She'd entered my mind and remained.
I was open for her.
All night & all day.
Just like the coffee shop, I'd met her at that day luck was on my side.
It was one cup of coffee.
My last five dollars.
And a sign of good faith.
Who'd ever known the woman I lent my pot money to would be Beyoncé Knowles, prominent figure and one of New York's most eligible bachelorette's. Did I mention she was filthy fucking rich?
Just before she slid into her foreign car, she'd left my mind in a frenzy and my body on fire. One airdrop and a thank you note with her number attached.
"Call me if you're ever in need."
Of course, I was in need.
I had been since the day I smelled her obnoxious fragrance.
Witnessed her intoxicating smile.
Been blessed with her lingering presence. I'd become addicted.
Her absence was vexatious. Even, now, the thought of our differences keeping us apart had me strung out and stressed out.
I ashed the small piece of the cone I had left and covered my naked limbs with the robe I'd borrowed from Beyoncé. The thought of our differences caused physical pain. Just yesterday, I'd nearly walked out of her life. I'd walked out of situations and relationships that lasted years on end, and none of them had affected me as the turmoil I felt when preparing to end this thing between us before we could even start.
I wasn't sure why our union felt so exclusive, but it had quickly become something far more than I'd imagined. Thoughts of her lulled me to sleep, praying that tomorrow afforded me with even more joy than today.
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Our second week hadn't gone according to plan.
One of Beyoncé's buyers had recanted, and the deal they'd made was off the table. I grew frustrated with someone that I'd never even met in my life. Her improper business proceedings had caused Beyoncé a great deal of stress. Though she didn't show it, I knew that she was stressed. She stayed copped up in the golf enclosure for hours upon hours. If she wasn't there, then you could find her in her private office, where I'd gained permission to access if absolutely necessary. However, I followed the code and steered clear. That was until, today.
"Hey." I entered carrying the files that she had requested a few hours prior.
Without a word in exchange, Beyoncé nodded with a sigh. Tiredness wrote over her beautiful face. Her smile had been in hiding for the last two days, and I wanted to be the one to bring it back to life.
"Mind if I come in?" Truthfully, if she'd declined, I would've come inside, anyway.
"Come." She slid her chair backward and patted her lap.
"Well, actually. I was hoping that you would."
Instead of sitting on her lap, I slid down until I kneeled in front of her. "You've been working so hard. I thought you deserved a reward." I teased, unbuckling her pants. "Lift up."
She stood from the chair she was in and assisted me with her pants. "Future references. I'd rather it standing up."
"Yes, daddy." I saluted with a hand to my head. "Whatever you like."
Beyoncé was eager to feed me dick. "I've been waiting to see those lips wrapped around my shit since I met you."
"Hmmm. I've been wanting to put these lips on you since I met you." I admitted.
"Here, then." Beyoncé grabbed the back of my head and fed me inches. There was no warning and no sympathy spared.
My eyes bulged, nearly untucking themselves from their folds. I attempted to relax around her, desperate for complete demolishing of her flavor. The heat from her set my mouth ablaze as if I'd eaten food fresh from the stove. She reached the back of my throat and caused a sea of saliva to produce. Instantly, my mouth was overwhelmingly wet and runny.
"Ummmm." I moaned. She'd actually tasted better than caramel. I'd truly underestimated her deliciousness. Beyoncé grabbed my thick wad of curls and forcing me to look into her hazel eyes. I was at a loss of control as she forced my head backward and then forward.
"Suck this dick, baby." Beyoncé had begun thrusting her hips, causing me to gag nearly every time she reached the back of my throat. The amount of saliva that coated her shaft was insane.
Thick gooey globs of saliva slid across the threshold of my mouth, onto my lips, and then down my chin. My pussy began thudding at a rapid pace as I felt her hands on either side of me, fondling my breast. Momentarily, I forgot about my transgressions because her massages served as a temporary solution to my discomfort. Her voice rang out, and my ears perked in anticipation for her next demand. She sounded so fucking good, inducing a spasm throughout my body.
"Fuck yourself." she moaned, bringing my nipples to their pinnacle. Firm, hardened and requiring space that I never knew they'd needed. The tips of them tingled as if little prickly needles had been planted underneath my skin. "Cum with me."
"Beyoncé." I protested, pulling her from my mouth and making a mess of my shirt. "I won't be able to focus on you if I do that."
"Play with it, or this ends, now." She hummed, rattling my insides.
My face contorted as I lifted my head in her direction. "Okay."
"That's it." She strained her neck to get a good look as my hand caressed my soaking core through my panties. My skirt was hiked so that she wasn't deprived of vision.
Shamefully, I dripped with each pull and push from her thrusting. I could only imagine how her veins were bulging, muscles flexing, face stoic, and body caught in between being tense and relaxed. However, the long sleeved button down wasn't being fair.
"That's it." She moaned.
I tried closing my eyes but felt the palm of her hand tapping my jaw, lightly.
"Eyes open, beautiful." Beyoncé warned.
"I'm about to..." I pulled her from my mouth, but she shoved it back inside.
"Wait up for me."
There were stars.
There were flickering lights.
There was a howling sound.
There was heat.
There was also air.
There was discomfort.
There was also comfort.
There was tingling.
There was tightening.
And there was cum.
All over my face and hands.
"Shit." Beyoncé shook.
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Week three was spent in the shops.
Beyoncé had taken me to stores I could barely even pronounce to purchase from designers I'd never even heard of before. There was no way that my wardrobe would fit in my suitcase, now. Beyoncé had even humored the idea of buying me a new one to accommodate my closet upgrade. It was pleasant, seeing her laugh and watching her come unglued.
When I'd first met her, she'd been so uptight that I was afraid to mumble much of a word to her. She, too, had been stingy with conversation. Now, it flowed effortlessly. Since that emotional night at the guesthouse, we'd both been on the same page, neither of us cared much about the restrictions society placed on women as a whole.
We both agreed that our union could be whatever we made of it, no matter how fast or slow society felt we were taking things. I loved that logic, simply because it was the only excuse I could rely on to explain the feelings I'd been hoarding for Beyoncé.
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Week four was full of surprises.
Per Beyoncé's wishes, I'd dressed in casual wear. To my astonishment, she'd rented Hampton's Court for the day so that she could teach me tennis. As boring as the sport was, I had to admit that I loved spending the entire Saturday with her, exasperating her to no end because I just didn't get the game.
For the weekend, Beyoncé showed me to her boathouse, which was on the other side of her property, sitting on the lake that I'd assumed belonged to the residence of The Hamptons. Again, this woman was full of surprises. In fact, the lake belonged to her. Beyoncé Knowles. We spent the entire day on Sunday picnicking, on paddle boats, flying kites and indulging in public intoxication.
By the time Monday rolled around, I was beat. Unfortunately, London hadn't emailed a to-do list for me, which lead me to wonder if that time had come. Because I'd been at it for over a month, I was accustomed to the day's work and continued as normal. Beyoncé was out of the office for the most part, which gave me an excuse to lounge around and doze any time sleep overcame me.
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Week five brought me so much joy.
I was able to lock in the perfect apartment. Timing couldn't have been better. I'd gotten the call while in the office. Though hesitant, Beyoncé immediately shut down for the day and took me to brunch to celebrate. We went to a few stores - per my request - to look at furniture that I'd possibly be interested in. Beyoncé was a woman of spectacular taste, which is why I chose to bring her along with me.
The following week I would be signing my lease. The apartment wasn't exactly complete, yet. They were administering last minute nips and tucks to make sure that it was perfect for my stay.
In addition to finding a new place, I decided to schedule a trip to see my mother, as well as an all-expense, paid trip for Beyoncé and I. With my savings and the money that I had been making since working for her; I was sitting on a nice little grip. No, my trip wouldn't be as extravagant as one she could fund, but I figured it was the thought that count.
She nearly fainted knowing that I had gotten business class seats when her family owned a plane, collectively. We fought for two days before she gave in and agreed to allow the downgrade. It was what I could afford, and since this was my idea, she had to cooperate. Besides, the trip wasn't for another two months, so she had plenty of time to prepare herself and learn to maneuver the airport.
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ok.. little time jumps to speed this up!
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