"How did she get your number?"

"I slipped it to her that night. She kept getting on my nerves, did it to get her out of my face."

"While you were with your man?"

"Yeah, gave her my number. She kept asking. Worked my nerves. Gave her my work number."

"Damn."

"He was a two-minute man anyway. His cheap ass. Only reason I was with him was because it is so hard to meet good men out here. You have to go all the way to Atlanta or down to Miami to meet somebody decent. And he would fuck me, but he would never re-fuck me."

"Re-fuck?"

"You know. Fuck me then fuck me again. Re-fuck. He never refucked the same night. I don't mind a man coming fast, not the first time, but at some point he needs to man-up and re-fuck me."

I laughed with her. Kiki Sunshine was a nomenclator, inventing names for things. I doubted if re-fuck would make it into the dictionary, but it definitely had earned a place in my vocabulary.

I said, "Okay. So...Yasamin Kincade...how did that jump off?"

"She kept calling my job...sending flowers...sending expensive gifts. Told her I wasn't into women, that I didn't do women, said she just wanted to go downtown on me, I didn't have to do her."

"Sounds aggressive."

"Women always offer to do me."

"And? What happened after the flowers and gifts?"

"She would take me to the best restaurants. Table. Bonterra. The Melting Pot. Cafe Sienna. Then one night we went out, danced all night, drank, and we went back to her spot. I was drunk as hell, had been doing shots, and no way was I going to be able to make it back to Greensboro without killing myself. Went to sleep. Next thing I knew, I was waking up, sun in my face, her licking me down."

"Really?"

"And the shit felt good."

"Unbelievable."

"Yeah. That was unbelievable. You have no idea how unbelievable. She had me tingling so good felt like every nerve was open, had me aching like I had a T.I.P."

"What's a T.I.P.?"

"A toothache in my pussy."

"That's funny. Aching so bad it felt like a toothache. Hilarious."

"She had me hotter than fish grease. Felt like I was in the devil's living room with a T.I.P."

I didn't correct her, didn't say the proper acronym should be TMP. People in the South had their own style, their own way of pronouncing words, re-spelling words, same for making acronyms.

Kiki Sunshine hummed and grinned, said, "She loved it because I come so fast. She used to put three fingers inside me. Her hands were small, her fingers were short, and I would tighten my legs and in no time I would go crazy and come all over her hand."

I looked at her. Again she smiled, this time her smile was accompanied with a raised brow.

She said, "You look a lot like her. You smile like her too."

Wordless stares existed between us.

By then Karl was coming up behind us, branches cracking under his feet. He had a camera and other photography equipment at his side. Kiki Sunshine and I slowed our laughter. Karl showed me how to hold this big round thing to reflect the light that was easing through the trees, that reflection yielded magnificent light that gave Kiki Sunshine a wonderful look. I took instructions and watched Karl do his thing with so much passion, and I watched Kiki Sunshine work it, also with so much passion.

As if she was put on this earth to create priapism in men, she turned up her sexuality, performed, moved her body however Karl told her to move her body, made orgasmic faces, serious faces, laughing faces. She did sensual pictures, then posed where her vagina could almost be seen, showed enough to tantalize, then went all the way and took photos where she was putting one finger inside her hairless yoni while the other finger was inside her red lips; sensuous, naughty-girl poses.

When her finger went to her yoni, I tried to look down or look away when she started doing those stirring poses, had to because I could relate to what she was doing so well that I imagined what she was feeling as she posed, but I kept moving the thing that reflected the light, so I had to look at her, make sure the light was hitting her in the right way. She took photos down on her haunches, took booty shots with her looking back at the camera, took shots with her holding the tree like she was climbing a huge erection, her serpent-like tongue coming from her red lips, her tongue moving like she was licking an aroused clitoris, penetrating a woman's vagina and anus. A wave of electricity swept through me.

She asked me, "Can you hand me my box of Dom?"

I did what she asked, became pauper to the queen, her every wish my command.

When she opened the box of Dom, I expected her to pull out a bottle of French champagne and use that high-class holy water as a prop.

What had replaced the champagne was a nice-sized vibrator. My mouth dropped open. It was a beautiful vibrator, pink and sleek, a feminine color on a mannish device. My surprise changed into a naughty smile as I shook my head at her. She grinned. That was clever. Never would have thought of using a box of Dom Perignon to conceal a pleasure maker.

She took her tool, then handed me the empty box.

I said, "Pink?"

"It matches my hair."

She held her toy as if she were taking a man orally, stared at the camera with a seductive boldness, gazed at Karl as if he was her fantasy, mouth open as if she was waiting for him to spill his liquid energy, waiting for his strength to become her salvation. The camera shutter echoed.

I was their voyeur. Ashamed and excited all at once.

She asked, "Want me to put my toy here, daddy?"

Karl laughed. "Your pictures. Do what ever you want to do."

She teased the vibrator between her legs. It was as if she was touching me in the same place. I tingled.

Karl grunted, lust halted his breathing, almost lost his professionalism, but snapped back. Kiki Sunshine smiled a victorious smile, one that said she was desperate to corrupt Karl. Karl moved around, got closer shots of her, most focused on her face, the expression.

Kiki Sunshine moaned, bit her lips, faked an orgasm as a mild wind blew through the trees.

Birds were singing overhead, telling other birds to come see the show.

Karl didn't miss a beat, took so many shots, didn't stop until Kiki Sunshine stopped.

We took a break, just long enough for Kiki Sunshine to sip water, long enough for me to dab sweat from her face and touch up her makeup. Karl opened the small ice chest he'd brought.

Kiki Sunshine picked up pieces of ice while Karl started shooting.

She ran ice over her chest and face, lived in a state of euphoria and excitement, made sure her nipples remained hard as she posed making climactic faces, had a love affair with frozen water, made faces like she was having a colossal orgasm, her sounds loud enough to stir the birds.

Kiki Sunshine lost her rhythm and fell into deep laughter, looked like a child who had heard a good joke on Sesame Street, so unguarded, so real in that moment, her breasts bouncing along with her chortle. Karl never stopped photographing her, captured those images too. Kiki Sunshine's laughter was sweet and contagious. I swallowed, laughed too. Laughed and fanned myself.

The laughter, like a yawn, became contagious. Karl started laughing.

Karl said, "It's hot as hell out here."

I nodded in agreement and amazement.

Karl said we were done, said he had enough shots.

I took Kiki Sunshine her clothes, gave her a towel, helped her get dressed. She packed her pink toy back inside her champagne box. I followed her back to the Jeep, told her to sit under the air conditioner and cool off while I went to help Karl gather his equipment.

Kiki Sunshine said, "I had an orgasm."

"No way."

"Could you tell I busted a nut? It was a little one, but it was damn good."

"Thought you were acting."

"I'm not that good of an actress."

"Damn. You...just like that? Karl turned you on big time."

"I was looking at you...imagining what it would be like to feel your fingers inside me."

I smiled at her, nervous and excited.

I backed away from Kiki Sunshine, said, "I'm going to go help Karl with his equipment."

I headed back through the trees, fanning myself, disturbed, barely able to walk without stumbling. I wondered how much money men would be willing to pay to have a few moments with her. She was powerful. Her sexual energy radiated like a furnace. Her ability to create desire in people who shouldn't desire her was strong. Tried to imagine her giving herself, losing her control to a woman who resembled me. Looked at my hand, imagined my fingers inside her.

Once I made it into the woods, when I knew I couldn't be seen from the road, it took control of me, that darkness inside me consumed me, forced me to lean against a tree and loosen my jean shorts. That wasn't me getting undressed in the shadows and coolness created by the trees. It was my rage undressing me, my jealousy tugging at my pants. My insecurity and anger had been lurking, boiling deep inside me, had stirred me and demanded that I regain the attention I was craving from Karl, the attention he had given away as he was catering to Kiki Sunshine.

I whispered, "Karl."

He stopped packing his gear and looked at me, his gaze changing from focus to sheer surprise.

I was naked.

Like Kiki Sunshine. Like Eve in the garden, my secrets his apple. We stared at each other, not a word shared, yet everything being said.

He raised his Nikon, took photos of me, came closer with each shot. Karl went to put his camera down, but I reached out and he handed his pride and joy to me.

I whispered, "Taste me."

Without question, a sly smile rose on his golden skin, his tight eyes on my body as he got down on his knees, as he eased into that position of ultimate surrender, as he did what I needed to be done. He gave me his attention. His full attention. I aimed the lens down, pushed the button to make it steal this moment, did that until it felt too good. Camera in hand, I closed my eyes and imagined while he tasted me, imagined other things as he was licking me with swiftness, power, and grace. My body moved, did erotic poses like Kiki Sunshine had done when she was engaging in self-importance, releasing my own muffled singsong moans as Karl slid his tongue across my opening. I imagined Mark was here, wanted Mark to be here, his erection moving toward my mouth, my stiff fingers helping make that imagination feel real as I squirmed. I opened my eyes, squirmed while Karl was still licking me.

It felt like Mark was here. For a moment I thought I saw Mark standing in the trees.

Not Mark.

She was there. Watching me. Watching us. Kiki Sunshine was standing at the edge of the woods, spying through the trees. I saw the redness of her hair mixed in with the greenness of the foliage.

I kept moaning my singsong moan, squirming and wining, dancing my yoni against his tongue.

Her eyes had become the camera, with each blink she photographed me over and over. Slivers of sunlight walked across my body. Sweat covered my skin, drained down my back, dampened my neck. Animalistic expressions on my face. I fell into my own fantasy world. Became an erotic supermodel. I wanted her to see Karl please me, wanted to moan like a demented bitch and tell him to fuck me like I was his slave while Kiki Sunshine moaned and watched me get fucked until I came.

She crept closer, found a better view, became a zoom lens, got her close-up.

Her eyes blinking like a camera's shutter.

Birds were singing. Little birds were celebrating life. And so was I. I was flying and singing with them all. Pieces of heaven's natural light fell across my eyes. In my plea sure I searched for Kiki Sunshine. She remained a voyeur. Kiki Sunshine licked her lips like a shiver of arousal was running down her spine. She was bewitched by the affectionate image she was witnessing. She shivered like ice was being teased around her nipples. She shivered like her faux penis was being eased inside her.

She shivered like she was erupting in her loins, shuddered as if she had a severe T.I.P.

She licked her red lips. In response my tongue traced mine, traced them over and over.

While I held Karl's head where it was, while I started to feel pleasure again, Kiki Sunshine remained imprisoned by voyeurism, as I was imprisoned by exhibitionism, my performance for her, a lone witness watching me shudder and sweat my way down the road to nirvana once again.

She took a deep breath. Jerked like she was filled with the Holy Spirit.

Her body leaned forward, she took a step, small branches and leaves cracking under her feet. It looked like she was coming to join us. But she waved a hand to the sky and turned around.

She stumbled, regained her footing, kept moving, her grace gone.

She had won her battle with temptation.

She hurried back toward the Jeep, left me panting as twigs of embarrassment cracked under her feet, left me shaded by a million trees, left me praying to God and his son, my eyes rolling in the back of my head as I tumbled into the brightness of satisfaction.

SEVENTEEN.

I avoided Kiki Sunshine.

A drying sheen of sweat covered us as Karl and I loaded up the Jeep. I brought the ice chest back while Karl handled all of his equipment. I waited until Karl was finished loading his things before going to the front passenger-side door. Kiki Sunshine was inside the Jeep, in the backseat, side closest to Barber Park. When I got inside, Kiki Sunshine shifted, moved and sat behind me, did that as if she was hiding. I couldn't see her face as Karl drove down Florida.

Damon Wayans was on Foxxhole, doing a hilarious routine about O.J. Simpson.

But Kiki Sunshine wasn't laughing.

She shifted around in her seat a lot. Moved side to side like she had a severe toothache.