Sherri spotted him in the receiving line.
There he was standing out like an African Adonis. He was moving slowly towards her. Sherri held her breath. She had to meet him!
"Sherri! Sherri! I'm talking to you." Sherri's attention snapped out of her dreamy fog. It was her sister, Veronica. It was her wedding. In fact, it was Veronica's third wedding.
"I need you to find papa. I can't find him," Veronica said.
"I'll check on him!" Sherri said. She knew where he would be. She found him in his study with three men. They didn't look like wedding guests. With papa, it was always business first, she thought.
"Excuse me, Papa. Veronica needs you," Sherri said as respectfully as she could. He nodded. Sherri hurried back to Veronica's wedding reception.
A matronly woman stopped Sherri in the hallway.
"Pardon me, is this not Veronica's fourth wedding?" She asked.
"Actually, her first was annulled. It doesn't count," Sherri said smiling.
"Oh, that's right!" the woman said.
Sherri hurried back to the reception. She was right! The talk seems to be, "Why was Veronica wearing white on her third or fourth wedding? The simple answer was that Veronica has no shame!" Sherri thought.
Sherri found Veronica eating a slice of wedding cake. "Oh no, Veronica is going to put back on all of those 30 pounds she lost before she found Aldo," Sherri thought to herself.
"Papa is in the office talking. He's coming," Sherri said and added in a sing-song voice, "You have cake on your chin."
Veronica frowned and wiped it away.
Sherri looked around. She spotted him on the other side of the pool. He looked in his early thirties. He was taller than anyone her Italian family. Sherri guessed he was six-foot-four. He was trim and fit. He was wearing a neatly tailored black brocade African style robe that flowed down to his black patent-leather shoes. He was clean shaven and had a sexy Obama-style haircut.
"Are you with the groom?" Sherri asked.
"No, actually, the groom is with the bride. I'm just here as a friend," he said smiling. "Pardon me. I'm joking of course. I am an old college chum of his. My name is James," he said.
"I'm the bride's sister. I'm Sherri."
"Yes, I spotted you in the reception line. Then you were gone."
Sherri laughed.
"It's a long story," Sherri said. She opened her purse and pulled out a blunt and placed it in her lips. He offered her a light. She lightly touched his hand and looked into his eyes as she set her blunt to flame. She took a deep toke and exhaled slowly.
"Do you think this will work out? Oh, I shouldn't ask that question." He looked embarrassed.
"Don't be embarrassed! The simple answer is: Does he have money?" Sherri laughed. She took another toke and slowly exhaled.
James laughed.
"A woman cannot be too rich or too thin. Isn't that what they say?" James said.
"There are other factors."
"I can only imagine."
Sherri made a side step to put her body between the guests and James. She reached down and felt his manhood through his robe. It started growing.
"Some things shouldn't be left to the imagination," Sherri said looking into his eyes.
"I would love to discuss reality with you sometime," James said smiling.
Sherri released his now fully erect member. She offered him the blunt. He took it and pulled in a deep toke. She reached into her purse and pulled out a business card and handed it to James.
He looked at it. It read simply, "Sherri A." Her cell number was below."
"I'll call you," he whispered.
***
Sherri got into the car with her husband, Stewart, 55. He was thick in the middle and balding on the top. He pulled out into the street and settled down to driving home.
"Why are you so sullen?" Sherri asked. It was an accusation. She knew that her accusations always made him angry.
"I SAW YOU TALKING TO THAT ... THAT MAN BY THE POOL! You were throwing yourself at him!" Stew said.
"Settle down! You are always so jealous. He's an old business associate of papa's. Do you want me to tell papa you disapprove of his business associates?" Sherri knew how to get to Stew. He had no money. Papa set him up in business. Papa had to rein him in once before. Sherri knew it.
"There is no need to bring papa into this," Stew said suddenly his voice was different.
Sherri had all the money. If she threw him out, he would be practically penniless.
"Let's talk about something different. Don't you think Veronica looked ravishing in white?" Sherri said. She was teasing him.
***
Sherri walked out on the patio and adjusted a chaise lounge into the sunlight. She was going to get some morning rays. She sat down and spread her long, shapely legs on the lounge. She was 39 and a mother of two grown children. Her body was fit. Her hair was dark brown. Her hazel eyes were wide set on her narrow face. Sherri placed a blunt to her full red lips and lit it. She took a deep toke and held it a while before releasing it through her nose.
She checked her cell phone.
"Why hasn't he called," she thought and added, "Maybe I came on too strong." She dismissed the notion and put her cell phone down.
The phone rang. It was Veronica.
"Hi!" Sherri said.
"Hi I'm on the way to Jamaica!" Veronica said excitedly.
"Great! Are you having fun?"
"Yes! Listen. I met this gorgeous hunk in the ship's lounge."
"Already playing the field? Veronica!"
"I keep my options open. We went back to his cabin and had some fun if you know what I mean."
"What about Aldo? How did you get rid of him?" Veronica had a sudden vision of Aldo being pushed overboard. Her mind watched Aldo splashing around as he was receding in the distance.
"He got seasick. He hasn't been out bed." She laughed.
Sherri laughed.
"Just to make sure he doesn't suddenly get over it, I slipped him a sedative." Veronica laughed again. "I got to go. Call you later!"
Sherri put the phone down and picked up the latest issue of
Vogue
and started turning the pages.
The phone rang again.
"Hello?"
"Hi. This is James ...."
***
Sherri looked in the mirror and put the lipstick to her lips. She wanted her lips to be bright red. She wanted her eyes to be accented with mascara and a little bit of blush on her cheeks.
She slipped on a pair of stylish lacy-top hose, a thong, and a camisole not unlike those displayed in
Vogue
. Lastly, she put on a short miniskirt and a top that accentuated her 34DD's.
She slipped into a pair of red patent leather pumps with micro stiletto heels. Lastly, she parted her hair and brushed it back so that it hung down off of her shoulders.
She got into her red SL-Class Mercedes and lowered the top. It was a 45-minute drive to the location that James selected.
It was a café in a business district. James met her outside and escorted her to a patio. He gave her a kiss before holding the chair for her.
"Glad you could make it," James said smiling. He was dressed in a long flowing robe. It was tie-dyed blue and white. It was semitransparent. She got glimpses of his loose pants under his robe. The front panel was gold with embroidery around the edges. The embroidery design circled his neck, and the cuffs of his sleeves and trousers. He wore a similarly colored hat with gold embroidery around the base.
"Oh yes! I am too. This is very nice. Do you live nearby?" Sherri asked. She sat down and displayed her shapely legs for him while he sat down.
"Yes. I live in an apartment on the fourteenth floor.
The waiter came and James ordered red wine.
"The wedding was nice," James said.
Sherri laughed.
"It more like a meltdown, you mean," Sherri laughed again.
"I thought the repartee by the pool was very interesting. It's been on my mind," he said smiling.
Sherri's ruby red lips touched the glass. Her eyes looked over the rim of the glass at him before sipping the wine.
"I captured an image of something I wanted to explore further," Sherri said without changing the expression on her face.
They finished their wine, and James got up and took her hand. Together they got on the elevator. They stepped off on a floor and walked to his two-level condo decorated in African art and nude women. The women were in all stages of undress and engaging in sexual activities with African chieftains.
On the floor and the walls were more erotic
objets d'art
such as giant phalluses and women's busts.
James dropped a DVD on the player. A 120-inch high-definition TV screen came alive with images of a tall African male and a classy blonde woman in a sensual modern dance to the rhythm of drums.
James brought her a drink in a metallic gray goblet. It was darker than any wine she had ever seen.
"What is it?" Sherri asked.
"It's a special ceremonial potion used to prepare temple prostitutes for servitude," James said, looking into her eyes. "It is derived from blood, wine, and some roots ...." His words trailed off as if there were other ingredients that he did not want to speak.