Roy Glenn - In A Cold Sweat

I started laughing so hard I didn’t notice that Bobby had started driving toward the Major Deegan like he was headed for the house. “Where you goin’?”

Bobby looked over at me and smiled. “Where you wanna go?”

“I hate people who answer questions with questions.”

“Just answer the damn question,” Bobby insisted.

“I was thinkin’ we could ride by Cynt’s,” I told him, knowing he’d be down for it and knowing I’d have to listen to him talk shit about it on the way.

Bobby made a U-turn in the middle of 233 rdstreet. “I was hopin’ you’d say that. All that talk about ‘I don’t like rubbers’. Bullshit! I bet you used one on that Amazon Shy look alike!”

“You’re right, Bobby, I did.”

Her name was Maria Harrow and she dances at Cynt's where she goes by the name Mystique. She’d been dancing at Cynt's for years and I always marveled at how much she looked like Cassandra. The first time I saw Mystique wasn’t long after I met Cassandra. I was at Cynt’s with Bobby. We were at the bar talking to Sammy when something drew me like a magnet to the stage. I remember losing myself in the seductive manner that she moved her hips. The longer I stood there watching her, the more Mystique reminded me of Cassandra. I ended up giving her a hundred-dollar bill as a tip.

I ran into her about a month after Cassandra died. I had been in the city to talk to Wanda and was on my way back out to Bobby’s house, when I stopped to get some gas.

“Hey, Mike Black.”

I was startled when I looked in the direction of the voice and saw what looked like my wife sitting in the car across from me. I thought my mind was playing tricks on me. At that time, I was having the dream all the time and it seemed so real. Like being awake without her was the nightmare that I just couldn’t wake up from; because it was. But that day, I thought I had really snapped until she got out of the car.

Mystique was bigger than Cassandra. Taller. Five-eleven maybe, heavier, but there’s not an ounce of fat on her. Her complexion, lips, facial structure, and her eyes; she had the same beautiful eyes. I wondered if Mystique and Cassandra could be sisters.

“Hey, how are you doin’, Mystique,” I said once I realized who she was, and more importantly, remembered what her name was.

We talked for a few minutes about the high price of gas and then about the run of nice weather we were having while she pumped her gas. “It has been nice for this time of year,” I commented.

“Oh, I want you to know that I was sorry to hear about your wife.”

“Thank you.” I never know what else to say.

“I never met her, but everybody says she was a special lady,” Mystique said.

“Thank you,” I said again, ‘cause I never know what else to say. “What about you? How you doin’?” I asked to change the subject.

“I’m okay. I’m startin’ to get a little work during the day as a personal trainer. Still dancin’ at Cynt's at night,” Mystique said and I noticed the size of the thighs she had poured into those jeans. “Haven’t seen you there in a while,” she said and returned the pump to its cradle.

“I haven’t been up there in years.”

“You should stop by some time and say hi to me,” Mystique said and got in her car.

“I will,” I promised and watched her drive off before I finished pumping my gas. Three nights later, me and Bobby were at Cynt's.

I lied and told myself that she wasn’t the reason I all of a sudden wanted to go to Cynt's, but she was. Mystique smiled at me when she saw me walking through the room and I pretended not to notice. The whole time I was talking to Cynt and Bobby, I watched her when I knew she wasn’t looking. I just wanted to watch her, watch her move, watch her talking and I thought about my baby. Even though it felt good, after a while, I felt childish and stupid for doing it, so I finally walked over to her.

“I see you finally made it over here to see me,” Mystique said and quickly dismissed the men that surrounded her.

“Yeah,” I said over the music.

“Well, I’m glad you did.” She quickly looped her arm in mine.

“I was gettin’ ready to go, but I wanted to holla at you like I said I would before I left,” I said in her ear.

She looked very disappointed. “Do you have to go?”

“Yeah, got some people I gotta see,” I lied, knowing that I had nobody to see and started moving toward the door. Well, I had promised Pam we’d be back before Michelle woke up screaming bloody murder, which usually happened around one o'clock. I looked at my watch; it was almost midnight.

Mystique kissed me on the cheek. “What was that for?”

“That’s to make you wanna come back when you got more time.” She kissed me on the other cheek and then Mystique went back to work.

I intentionally stayed away from there for the next three weeks, thinking about what I was doing. Thinking about what I was thinking about doing. I wasn’t in love with her or anything like that, but I was interested in her, and the only reason was because of who she reminded me of.

Was that wrong?

I didn’t know, and I convinced myself that I didn’t care. I mean, it wasn’t like I was interested in developing a relationship with her. I just wanted to fuck her.

So I did.

Yes, I used a condom.

And then, she surprised me. When we were getting ready to leave the hotel, I offered her a thousand dollars and she turned me down. “I’m a dancer, Mr. Black, just a dancer. I’m not one of your hoes. I had sex with you ’cause I wanted to, ’cause I wanted you. Not because I knew you’d hit me off when you were done.”

I was impressed, and not just with the fact that she wouldn’t take my money, but with Mystique. Maria Harrow definitely had skills and I wanted to fuck her again, so I did.

Yes, I used a rubber that time too.

Only this time I could tell how wet the pussy was even with the condom on.

And then she did it again.

This time I put the money in her hand, Mystique handed it back to me. She looked hurt that I even offered. I put my arm around her, you know, to console her. She kissed me; I kissed her, next thing you know I’m strapped up again and deep inside her.

After we were done that time, we’re laying there and I said to her, “I like havin’ sex with you.”

She curled up next to me and I put my arm around her. “That’s good, ‘cause I like the way you do it to me. You’ve made me feel things that no man ever has. I should be givin’ you money.”

“Thank you,” I said, ‘cause I never know what else to say. “But there’s one problem.’”

“What’s that?”

I reached next to me and picked up a magnum. “I hate these damn things. I wanna feel all this good pussy,” I said and eased two fingers inside her.

Mystique smiled and rocked her hips on my fingers. “And this good pussy wants to feel all this dick,” she smiled and grabbed a handful of me. So the next day Mystique and I went to see my doctor and two weeks later we were having sex. Not plastic, but sex. Sweat poppin’, pussy drippin’ sex.

It was off the chain.

I had chosen wisely.

Only problem is, I’m startin’ to like her.

And I don’t want to like her.

When we got to Cynt's, I was able to walk up on Mystique at the bar without her noticing me. “Are you busy?” I whispered in her ear.

She turned around quickly and smiled. “Never too busy for you, Mr. Black,” Mystique said and got up off of the stool. “Truth be told, I was hopin’ you would come by tonight. I want to feel you inside me,” she said and pressed her titties against me. Mystique was becoming very hard to resist.

She started out as an occasional convenience, somebody to release some tension with. Pretty soon we were getting together at least once a week. Last week, I fucked her three times and here I am again. “So can I steal you away from here?”