The Cameron Solution

Well, this is new territory for me (mostly). I've written stories with an interracial component before, but this is the first time I've written a story specifically for the "Interracial category. I hope you like it and look forward to hearing your critiques, both negative and positive. Be warned...as is my nature, this story will eventually touch an aspect of incest (big surprise, huh?).

As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters within are fictional existing only within the confines of the story and my so called imagination. Enjoy!

*

I looked down at the card in my hand and then back to the four story brick building across the street from where I was parked. The large sign on the building matched the card. It read 'The Cameron Solution' above an odd calligraphic drawing of a bull. The illustration struck me as vaguely disturbing after studying it for a moment...the bull seemed ferocious and powerful with one too many legs. I glanced around. I was sitting in one of Atlanta's wealthier suburbs in the shopping district. A Filene's was situated to the right of the brick building and a Prada store resided on the opposite side. Well dressed individuals of both genders, predominantly white like myself, strolled the streets, some moving with purpose, others idly moving along, window shopping or pausing to enter popular and expensive stores.

As I sat there, working up the nerve to go in, I watched a middle-aged woman emerge, dressed in a power suit that went perfectly with her long reddish hair. She walked down the street with a smile that disturbed me nearly as much as the card's image.

I sat for a little while longer, recalling how the card came into my hand. Yesterday afternoon, my mother-in-law, Clarice had asked me to meet her at the country club for lunch. I'd been happy to meet with her. We had always had a good relationship since I'd married her son, Daniel and she was sort of a role model for me in how to act amongst Atlanta's old money aristocracy.

My own upbringing was middle class...Papa being a family doctor in a small, sleepy Alabama town. I'd met Daniel at the University of Georgia at a football rally for the Bulldogs. We'd both been freshman students and he was the most handsome boy I'd ever met. He was fascinated with my Nordic looks and we fell head over heels in love and were married two weeks after graduation.

David's family was serious old money...what some called the Bourbon aristocracy of the Old South. Dig deep enough into his family's past and it was something straight out of Gone with the Wind. They'd been one of the earliest families to settle in Georgia and established a massive plantation that had generated the family fortune. Unlike many in the South, David's great, great grandfather had foreseen the outcome of the Civil War and had converted much of their wealth to Yankee gold and hidden it away. In the war's aftermath, he'd bought up even more land and while he no longer had slaves, the family had long benefited from the toil and labor of their African-American workers.

Needless to say, we lived in a beautiful home that was just shy of what one could honestly call a mansion, our children -- two sons and a daughter -- went to the nicest private academies in Atlanta and we have lived a life of luxury. Daniel preferred that I not work and so I had focused on the children until they were all in school and then since have occupied much of my time with various charity organizations and getting deep into mastering both tennis and golf. Although, I didn't realize it when I arrived at the country club, it was those latter two activities that were about to land me in trouble with Clarice.

We'd had a lovely light lunch...the chef here prepared the most delicious salads. We'd just finished them and Clarice had ordered us each one of the club's special mint juleps when as the waiter left us, she turned to me and in a deadly, but low voice said, "Maddy, my dear, are you screwing around on Daniel?"

I felt my stomach do a nauseating flip and my skin burned as I gathered my wits together and stammered, "M-my Lord, Clarice! N-n-no! Where...where did you get such an idea?"

My mother-in-law glared at me and I felt like I might just wilt under her heated gaze. Finally, she replied, "Word is getting around that you're getting mighty friendly with Charlie Sims here."

My blush worsened and I could barely meet her steely gaze. Charlie Sims was the golf pro at the Country Club and I'd been working with him nearly a year on my amateur game. I liked golf quite a bit, but to be honest, I liked Charlie too. Despite his receding hairline, he was handsome with a buff body and a confidence that was...arousing. "Are you fucking Charlie Sims, Maddy?"

"No, I am not!" I replied, perhaps a little too loudly as my voice drew looks from nearby tables. I leaned in towards Clarice and said more softly. "Who told you such a thing?"

Clarice shook her head and said, "In the South, darling girl, amongst our kind, there are very few secrets." She reached out and placed a hand over mine. "A little bird tells me that you and Charlie Sims were getting quite friendly in the woods beyond the back nine, last week. Again, I want to know, have you fucked Charlie Sims?"

"No...I have not!" I hissed back, glancing around and hoping no one had heard my mother-in-law's accusation. If they had, they were doing a good job of minding their own business.

She pursued the matter like the best prosecutor. "Do you deny that you and he have been engaging in some naughty kissing, perhaps while he had a hand up your skirt?"

Again, my stomach did a flip-flop and I felt dizzy as I saw images of my marriage being flushed down the toilet race through my mind. I chose to tell Clarice the truth. "No, I don't. Charlie and I have...um, made out a couple of times." I slumped back in my seat. "Does Daniel know?"

Clarice threw her head back and laughed, "Lord, no. Daniel is like his father. Business and the Bulldogs consume his every waking moment. He'd starve to death if you didn't make him eat now and again." She grew serious as our waiter returned with our drinks. She was quiet until he'd left. She sipped at her julep and nodded approvingly before looking at me again and saying, "So, you swear you've not fucked Charlie or anyone else besides Daniel since you've been married?"

I nodded and replied, "I've came close with Charlie...thought about it a lot here lately, but no, I've never slept with anyone but Daniel. He was...is the only one."

My mother-in-law nodded and said, "I believe you, Maddy. Now...I want perfect honesty here. Hold nothing back. Isn't Daniel taking care of you in bed?"

I hesitated before I answered. How does one simply unload all one's bedroom secrets on the mother of one's husband? I couldn't face her as I replied and so I looked down at my lap as I said, "When we first got married, oh yes...Daniel was a wonderful lover and we couldn't seem to get enough of each other. But...as the years have passed and especially since the youngest was born, Daniel seems to have lost interest." I looked up at Clarice with tears in my eyes and said almost in a whisper, "It's like you just said, Daniel is more interested in business and the 'Dawgs' than in me. I beg him to make love and he just tells me he's tired or he's got a big day at the office tomorrow and I'm left hanging."

I paused and took a sip of my mint julep to steady myself before I continued. "I've begged him to take time off and the two of us get away...go someplace romantic with no cell phones or computers where we can make love without any interruptions." I gave out a heavy sigh. "He tells me he just can't make time and we're getting too old for that anyway." My voice began to rise up again. "Clarice...we're both just thirty-six years old!"

Clarice nodded and patted my hand. "I understand your frustration, Maddy, more than you can imagine. Daniel is like his father...like all the Cameron men. It must be genetic. It takes a corporate takeover or a Georgia championship to give them an erection."

I laughed at her somewhat bawdy remark and said, "You and David, too?"

She nodded and said, "I'm sorry to say that David and I haven't had sex more than say three times a year since...well, since that horny son of a bitch from Arkansas was president."

I was aghast at her words, both for how difficult it must have been all these years and for what it portended for my own future. "How could you stand it, Clarice? Not having sex all this time." I hesitated and then said, "Have you...do you have affairs?"

My mother-in-law looked at me with disdain. "Cameron women do not have affairs, Madelyn Cameron. This family has never tolerated even the slightest possibility of scandal. Our name has never been nor ever will be smeared with even rumors of such behavior."

The force of her voice rocked me back, almost stunning me into silence. I had always enjoyed sex. Even the night Daniel deflowered me had been wrought with pleasure. I loved fucking and I missed it something terrible. Day and night there was a fiery need burning between my legs that no amount of masturbation with my hand or toys had been able to appease. Clarice's words had the power of an imperial edict and I felt a shiver of fear ripple through me at what might be the consequences of violating such an edict might be. This might be the twenty-first century, but this was the Old South and the Cameron family was money and power with a reach that extended beyond Atlanta.

"What...how do you stand it, Clarice?" I asked meekly. "You strike me as someone who would appreciate sex, but if you aren't getting it from David and you're not having affairs." I reached out and downed most of my julep in one swallow. "How the hell do you stand never being made love to...to never having sex?"

Again, my mother-in-law surprised me by throwing back her head and laughing again, this time until her eyes were wet with tears. She signaled our waiter to bring us another round of drinks before returning that powerful gaze of hers on me and replying, "I said that Cameron women do not have affairs, Maddy. I never said we stopped having sex."

I shrugged in confusion and waited for her to continue. "Maddy, my dear girl, our story is as old as the Cameron family itself. Cameron men marry beautiful, passionate women and then proceed to lose interest in matters of the heart and of the flesh long before they reach middle age. They love their wives, but below the waist, something seems to die." I sighed in acknowledgement before she continued, "But Cameron women are also smart and since the end of the Civil War have made accommodations to both satisfy their own desires and to keep the family's name protected from dishonor."

Clarice reached down to her purse and brought from within it a small, crème colored business card. She slid it across the table to me. I picked it up and read aloud the words, "The Cameron Solution, established 1869," and then looked at the odd calligraphic sketch that appeared to be a bull with five legs. I looked up at my mother-in-law and said, "I'm not familiar with this...is it part of the family business?"

She found this curious and barked laughter, pausing again as our new mint juleps were brought to us. After our waiter had retreated, she said, "No, it is not part of Cameron Enterprises, but...in a way, it is family related. The Cameron family's relationship with "The Cameron Solution" dates back to Daniel's great, great grandmother, Valerie Cameron." Clarice smiled and said, "It was her solution to the Cameron women's chief problem...her way of making accommodations. You might say she helped to start it and we have been its greatest patron ever since.

"You keep saying it's an accommodation, Clarice. How?"

Clarice smiled slyly and sipped at her drink. "It is the solution to our need to be fucked, my dear."

I'm sure I looked like an idiot, staring at my mother-in-law with my mouth hanging open for a long moment before staring down at the card and then saying in a very low voice, "You mean its...a whore..." I paused and looked at her with some puzzlement. "A whorehouse for women to go and be...serviced?"

My husband's mother laughed at me again and shrugged her shoulders. "Whorehouse is such an ugly word for what services are provided there. I assure you that your needs will be met there...probably beyond your wildest expectations. And it is discrete." She reached over and drew the card back from me. After taking a pen from her purse, she turned the card over and wrote down an address.

"Clarice...you...do you still use these, um, accommodations?"

She smiled at me and said, "Darling, Maddy. I am only sixty-three years old and in the prime of health." She stuck her tongue out furtively and grinned. "Well, maybe I'm slowing down a little. I only average visiting two or three times a week these days."

She slid the card back to me and signaled our waiter that we were through.

After she had signed for the check and we were alone again, she let her look of amusement fall away as she said in that nearly scary tone again. "Cameron women do not have affairs, but we do make accommodations to be satisfied. It is a burden and a privilege of being married into the Cameron family. Our husbands are good men, but with different needs. Go visit this place, Maddy and see for yourself. I doubt you'll be disappointed. Rather, I think you'll learn some great and wonderful truths about yourself and I promise you, if you keep an open mind, you'll never regret it."

Clarice winked at me and stood up. Even at sixty-three years old, she was a lovely woman. Perfectly coiffed black hair streaked with gray, her breasts, albeit augmented, rode high on her chest. Her narrow waist gave way to a generous set of hips and her legs were shapely and trim. "I suspect I'll be running into you there very soon, darling." She smiled at me and winked a second time and said, "Enjoy," before walking away, never looking back but somehow demonstrating that most every male in the dining room had his eyes on her. I found it a bit odd to suddenly recognize in her a very obviously sexual being.

#

A car with an intentionally loud muffler, passed by, shaking me out of my reverie. I looked again at the brick building across the street from me and taking a deep breath climbed out of my car. I was wearing a summer dress, white with a blue floral print that swirled just above my knees and hugged my chest tight, drawing attention to my bountiful chest and to what I considered my best feature, my bare shoulders. I was wearing two inch heels that helped accentuate my toned and shapely calves and I had my nearly bone white hair wound up off my neck and held in place with an ivory comb.

Not sure about what to expect, I walked across the street, removing my sunglasses as I opened the door and stepped inside "The Cameron Solution."

A chime sounded sedately as I went inside. I saw a waiting area with several lush and expensive overstuffed leather chairs settled around a large glass coffee table. Beyond it was a reception desk, manned by a tall, thin African-American, a young man in his mid-twenties, wearing a dark blazer and tie with a crisp, ironed shirt. He looked up and smiled as I approached. "Good afternoon. Welcome to 'The Cameron Solution.' How can I help you today?"

I felt my skin blushing as I fumbled for a reply. "I'm Madelyn...um, Madelyn Cameron and I've come to see about...um, your services."

He gave me a brilliant and sincere smile as if I was instantly the most important person in existence. "Of course, we've been expecting you, Missus Cameron. Ms. Clarice called us and told us to be expecting you." He stood up and I realized he was very tall, towering over my five-foot eight frame. He pressed a button on an intercom and said authoritatively, "This is Stephen at the desk, Madelyn Cameron has arrived. I'm bringing her up to..." he glanced at a computer screen before finishing, "Suite B." He gestured towards an elevator beyond his desk and said, "Please, ma'am, follow me."

As we approached the elevator another young man, also African American and dressed in the same clothes, emerged from an anteroom and nodded at us, saying in a deep, rumbling voice, "Stephen...Ma'am." He passed us and took over at the desk. I glanced back at him curiously. He wasn't as tall as Stephen, but broader in the shoulders and I had a sudden and shocking urge to see how his ass looked on those tailored slacks.

Stephen ushered me into the elevator and pushed a button. He smiled at me as the elevator smoothly but slowly began to move. "Have you been fully briefed on 'The Cameron Solution' Missus Cameron?"

I smiled weakly, feeling my already red face burning brighter. "Ah, no...I'm not sure how things work. I mean do I...I should I pay at the..."

Stephen held up his hand and replied, "Everything will be explained, ma'am. Don't be nervous...this is going to be one of the best days of your life." The way he smiled down at me as he spoke nearly unnerved me to the point I was ready to run away. I felt like he was literally undressing me with his eyes and that both frightened me and made me very wet between my thighs.

I must confess that while I always felt that I harbored no prejudices against blacks, I had had very few experiences with them in all my years. In my hometown, blacks and whites had generally stayed apart...legal wrangling had kept desegregation from really materializing in school and I had not had any black friends in my youth. The same could be said for college...I hung with the middling wealthy white students until I met Daniel and then I ran with the very exclusive white rich kids until we graduated. Since then, we had basically hung with the Old South gentry and the color lines, while never referred to, were very strictly enforced.

To my shame I will confess that I had entertained fantasies about having a black man and I recalled many giggling sessions with friends at slumber parties as we had discussed certain myths about the prowess and size of black men. I felt awkward, embarrassed and aroused by being this close to a black man...probably the first African American I had been around other than waiters or store clerks since college.

I rode silently with Stephen until the elevator car stopped, the doors opened and we stepped out into a broad hall, another young black man behind another desk who nodded and said, "Missus Cameron. We're honored to have you here." He nodded to a door with a small 'B' on it and said, "Stephen, Zachary is already waiting in Suite B."

Stephen walked me to the door, opened it for me and beckoned me to enter. "Enjoy yourself, Missus Cameron. I look forward to seeing you again."

I stopped midway through the door, a little surprised. "You're leaving?" I said, not sure if I was disappointed or not.

Stephen laughed and touched me on the arm gently, sending a little thrill racing through me. "Yes, Missus Cameron. Ms Clarice made a special request for your first visit." He winked at me and added, "You're going to like Zachary just fine and well, you and I can get better acquainted another time."

Feeling a little confused, I nodded, trying to smile to indicate that I would like that even though I wasn't sure why I would want to. I stepped onto into what turned out to be a lavish suite like something you'd find in the best hotel in Atlanta. An expensive living room suite was laid out around a thick, luxurious rug. Beyond it was a real fireplace currently dormant, not surprising in the hot summer season. To the far right I could see a mammoth bed that dwarfed my king sized bed at home and through a door next to it, I saw a portion of what had to be a huge bathtub...maybe a hot tub.

"Good afternoon, Missus Cameron or do you prefer Madelyn?" I turned at the lush voice, not too long deepened into manhood and found a black Adonis standing at a wet bar, pouring himself a drink. He was maybe six foot-five and solidly built, muscles straining the seams of his expensive dress shirt. His hair was curly, but cut close with a broad nose and a friendly face. Although he was dressed, I imagined that there wasn't likely an ounce of fat on what I could see was a ripped body and again, I felt unexpected moisture blossoming between my legs.