Hello all! This update unfortunately does not have an editor...(sad face). So I've been wanting to get this out & get this lovely little twist out there for you all to read, comment, like, love, hate, make snarky statements about, etc. LOL.
I have some issues with this one, but i'll let you all let me know how you feel about this update. I hope it is worthy of the last two in the series
As a warning, there is an element of nonconsent/reluctance in this story that happens outside of the two main characters of this tale. It happens to two different sets of characters related to the main character, Peter.
Thanks for all feedback -- It's nourishment to my soul to find out how I'm doing as an author. Without further ado, here is Chapter 3 of "The Arrangement".
Peter knew he fucked up when he heard the mumbled "Hmmm? Who's Josephine?" issue from Julianne's sweet lips. He silently cursed himself for his stupidity. Fully awake, he slowly removed his body from Julianne's side and walked into his study.
He sat down heavily into his chair as he tried hard to not remember the face of his first love.
Josephine.
He could easily remember her face. He chose Julianne because she looked exactly like his Josie. He remembered her laugh, the easy smile she wore, and their time spent in his family's garden. Tears crept at the outer edges of his eyes before he blinked hard, cleared his throat and called his friend & financier, Mitchell to arrange for another deposit into Julianne's bank account.
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Forty years ago...
Sunflowers.
She smelled like sunflowers the day he remembered falling in love with her. Her mother Millie worked as the maid for his father & mother. Millie helped raise him from the time he was a year old until his current 21 years of age. Millie was the mother that he always treasured -- strong, tough and always showed him right from wrong.
His family could always afford the best and finest of luxuries, but it was his "Momma Millie" that saw his report cards first, went to his polo games and attended the school plays he starred in rather than his busy parents.
Growing up he knew that Momma Millie had a daughter, but she never came to work with her mother. It was only on rare occasions that she would join her mother. He always thought she was a pretty girl, but the few instances that they came across one another, she was busy helping her mother clean for an event, or tending one of his family's gardens.
It was a gorgeous summer day, bright and warm at 11:00 or so in the morning. The day was in full bloom and he was on summer vacation before his final year at Harvard. Just as he walked downstairs on a leisurely wednesday afternoon, he saw her coming through the foyer from the french doors that led to the gardens. The little girl that he only noticed in passing over the years was an 18 year old woman. Peter stopped dead in his tracks when she graced the room with her presence.
Her long kinky hair was rolled high on two sides that came down into a thick bun at the nape of her neck. A large yellow sunflower and some pretty little oxalis decorated the space above the bun. Her long full figure was shrouded in a light yellow dress decorated with little purple flowers, with delicate little white heels that clicked on the marble floors of the entry way.
He watched her glide down to the hallway to the foyer, barely noticing that her unjeweled left hand held a large basket filled with a wide variety of yellow and white flowers. Peter carefully crept down the stairs to chase another glimpse of his quarry. He came to the hallway, and peeked around the doorway to watch her. She was graceful in her movements -- quick, and decisive - as she put orange tinged yellow roses, sunflowers and sweet alyssum into a large vase on the mahogany and inlaid tile circular table in the foyer of his family's estate.
Quickly mesmerized by her, he studied her features. In so many ways she looked like his Momma Millie -- even skin, bright brown eyes, high cheekbones and adorable little ears. The similarities between mother and daughter ended there, because Josephine had a slightly larger nose than her mother's cute little button nose. Josephine's skin was much darker than her mother's caramel hue. Her lips weren't as full as Momma Millie's, they were slightly smaller and looked like a plump heart. Her face was oval in shape, and came down to a small delicate chin. Her jawline was visible and he imagined tracing it with his fingers while he tasted her beautiful lips.
She continued working, completely oblivious to the audience that she silently entertained. His eyes traced the visible portions of her figure that weren't hidden behind the large vase she studiously decorated. The front of her dress dipped down invitingly, and Peter was treated with a view of the column of perfection that was her long neck.
Her arms were delicately curved with muscle, but didn't look overtly muscular. They tapered down to slim wrists and long fingers which expertly arranged the flowers. They were painted a vibrant shade of orange that raced to the top of his list of favorite colors. He couldn't see the way her large breasts strained slightly in the front of the material before tapering inward to her smallish waist before flairing out to her ample hips.
She had a build that was legendary for black women -- so many curves and built for a man's worship and pleasure. With great effort, Peter pulled his mind out of the thoughts that began with slowly peeling that enticing outfit off her body to explore her vast treasures properly -- since his thoughts were making his rather large erection cause noticeable discomfort in his khaki trousers. He pulled himself out of his reverie and up against the wall he was peeking from. His eyes slid closed as he focused on anything that would make his cock go back to it's normal size. When he opened them, his breath halted in his chest.