Love Knows No Color Pt. 25

I stared in disbelief as Shavonda's emotions played havoc with her.

"Boo," I said gently, "have you been taking all your meds?" Shavonda had been prescribed a couple of antidepressants about a month previous.

"Yes," she replied. "All of them, even the new one."

Tamika and I looked at each other in alarm. "What new one?" I demanded. "When did you start taking a new one? And why didn't you tell me?"

"I started Tuesday," Shavonda explained. "The doctor gave it to me for my panic attacks."

"Panic attacks?" I was livid now. "You had panic attacks? Why didn't you tell me? Where is this medication?" I watched as Shavonda fished the vial out of her purse and handed it to me.

"I thought you knew," Shavonda was in tears now. I felt bad. I didn't mean to make her cry. "You held me at night through some of them."

It began to dawn on me. Those nights when she'd cried while I gently rocked her were panic attacks. I'd assumed it was just the depression kicking her ass but it was something more. Shavonda was afraid. She still blamed herself for the deaths of several people. Tony, her ex fiancé. The baby she'd carried that Tony had caused her to miscarry. The family who died when Tony hit them head on after running Shavonda off the road. All of this years ago, apparently buried in her memory until recent events had caused her to relive that day. It made sense now. She was afraid something bad would happen to those around her, because of something she'd set in motion.

I looked at the vial she'd handed me. Klonopin. That was the new medicine. An anti anxiety drug. I quickly grabbed the laptop from my duffel bag and did a google search. Just as I thought: there was a drug interaction warning for Klonopin with the Prozac and Trazadone she'd been taking. My queen was being pulled in several directions by the medications. They were fighting each other for control, probably causing her erratic behavior over the past few days, behavior that both Tamika and I had noticed.

.

I hugged my wife tight. "Von," I said. "You can't take this any more. I don't know what your doctor was thinking, but this stuff is interacting with the other meds. One of the side effects is short term memory loss. We'll find another way to deal with your anxiety, but I can't have you forgetting what you did the night before. What if you double dosed on your meds because you forgot you'd taken them? I'm not going to lose you over this."

"Jason," Tamika said, "We gotta go set up the booth. Brian and I can handle it. You stay here with your wife. Von, we'll handle the booth today until you feel up to it."

We spent half the day in the room. Eventually, Shavonda's mood swings straightened out, but until they did, I held her, running my fingers through her hair. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I don't remember what we did after the bar. I woke up and panicked. I thought you did something to me in my sleep. I know you'd never willingly hurt me. I'm sorry I freaked out on you."

"It's ok," I said in a soothing voice. "I can take you to the hospital if you want to go. But you have to trust me. Everything we have is built on trust. If we don't trust each other our marriage won't work. I need to trust you too. That's why you can't take any more of those pills. I can deal with the depression and the panic attacks. I can't deal with you turning on me like that. Promise me you won't take any more of those klonopins." I kissed her forehead to soothe her.

Shavonda pulled back and stared at my neck. "What's that bruise?" she asked.

"Oh that?" I laughed. "You don't remember, but last night you gave me one hell of a love bite."

"I did that?" she asked.

"Yeah, I guess you were marking your territory."

"Mmmm, I could mark the other side." Shavonda smiled at me, hair wild. She looked so sexy. She always looked sexy to me.

"Only if you promise to remember it this time." We both laughed, rolling on the bed. I had my wife back. If it was only for a few hours I'd take that.

We'd taken a quick shower together, soaping each other up and enjoying the feel of our hands roaming. But we stopped short of shower play, only because we were late to the booth. Dressed in our regalia, we hurried the 8 miles to the festival grounds.

Upon our arrival, we found Tamika relaxing at the booth. Brian was still working for his friend at a food concession nearby, and once we'd gotten settled in, Tamika ran off to join her new husband. We let her spend the rest of the day with him, since they were nice enough to handle the morning setup for us. Sales were brisk as usual. Shavonda's handmade pendants and bracelets were popular at the festivals, and she told me how she'd discovered this by accident.

"Tamika and I went to the Ren fest several years ago," Shavonda said. "Tamika had heard that they were a place where the bigger ladies were appreciated instead of being fat-shamed. She didn't want to go alone, so I tagged along. We had a blast! And Tamika got A LOT of attention. I always told her she was a beautiful woman, but now for the first time in her life she was surrounded by men who saw that beauty. We also noticed the various booths selling trinkets, and we got the idea we could sell our stuff here too. It turned out to be the best business decision I ever made. Not only did we sell a lot of product at the fest, but we also handed out business cards. After the festival was over, people we'd met here started to come to the store and our business took off all year around. After a couple of years, we'd grown large enough that I could open the second store. That's when I met you."

I was beginning to fully realize how much hard work Shavonda had put into the business over the years. In addition to all that work, she'd been blessed with the unwavering support of her Aunt Velma and Tamika, who stood by her through some pretty rough times. Add some extremely good luck and Shavonda had built an empire. And she did it on her own terms.

I knew she never wanted to be the 'token' anything. She never wanted people to think she'd gotten what she had because she was black or female. That was why she'd decided to go into business for herself in the first place. Edie was who she didn't want to be. Edie had risen through the ranks at her place of employment by learning as much as she could, and doing her job better than anybody else. Yet some of her co-workers still complained that she got promoted because of her color. It had to hurt, knowing that no matter how hard you worked people didn't believe you'd deserved your position. By owning her own business, Shavonda avoided all of that. Sure, she'd taken advantage of some programs that aided minority small business startups, but that had only gotten her started. The rest she'd done on her own.

Yes, my queen was formidable. She'd overcome the odds and some devastating events in her life to become the woman I'd fallen hopelessly in love with. And right now, she managed to keep going even though her inner life was turmoil. I was proud of her and I let her know every day. I tried to be there for her to lean on.

The one thing I hadn't counted on was that my own actions would cause her to doubt herself. I'd sensed her deep depression but not the panic attacks she was experiencing. Because of this, I'd misread the signals she was putting out. I'd held her for the past couple of weeks but not pushed for anything more. Shavonda had taken that as a sort of rejection, fearing that I didn't desire her anymore. Nothing could be further from the truth. In denying her, I'd fought an internal battle with myself. I was so horny I could have pounded nails with my erection. I'd held back thinking that was what she'd wanted and needed when in reality what she really needed was for me to make passionate love to her. To tell her just how much she meant to me, and to give her the pleasure that would make her forget everything else if only for a few hours. Her self-confidence had taken a hit, and part of her anxiety was the fear she was losing me. Which led to the prescription for the anti-anxiety medication which had interacted so tragically with her antidepressants.

All of this we talked about between customers. We really had a heart to heart talk. And I made sure she knew she was my heart. We chatted and laughed, eating the turkey legs Tamika had brought us. Then, there, I knew we were going to be alright. That whatever life threw at us we'd find a way through, together. There was too much at stake.

I told her I sometimes had to hold back my lust because I didn't want her to think I only saw her as a sex object. While the mere sight or touch of her bare skin was enough to still drive me wild, our connection was much deeper. Her reply floored me. "What makes you think YOU aren't the sex object." I stared at her in disbelief for a few seconds then we both burst out laughing. "The look on your face was priceless," she said.

"Honestly, I don't mind being your sex object," I replied. "I've never met anybody who could satisfy me yet still leave me wanting more. Except for you."

To tell the truth, a part of me was amazed that I still felt the same crazy lust for her that I had when we first hooked up. If anything, it was stronger than ever. But it also had long ago developed into an addiction, with a strong desire to please her as much as possible. As beautiful as she was to me, she was most beautiful with her body shuddering and face twisted in orgasm. And to know that she had felt pleasure that intense was the biggest turn on of all.

Shavonda's mood had stayed pretty stable all day. She actually seemed contented, happy to be there in that booth engaged in soul baring conversation with me. After the heartbreaking mood swing this morning, it was a relief to see her calm and normal again. But we were taking no chances. I hadn't given back the klonopins she'd handed me this morning, and she hadn't asked for them. She knew better. I'd fight her if I had to, but she'd never take another one of those pills.

Tamika helped us load the display cases in the company van after the show closed, and we met up at a local diner for dinner. I watched with interest as Shavonda ate liver and onions, arching my eyebrow as she devoured her food. "Are you...?" I asked.

"Not yet," she replied. "But I wanna try tonight." She gave me a seductive smile, and I fell in love all over again.

"Get a room you two!" Tamika exclaimed in mock horror. "Oh, that's right, you do have a room." With a mischievous smile, she added, "Von, you wanna see who can scream the loudest tonight? That is, if our men 'up' for it. Maybe we keep the whole motel up half the night?" She turned to me, and with a serious look said, "Make sure you put a baby up in her tonight."

On the way out to our vehicles, Brian pulled me aside. "Sorry about this morning. I know you wouldn't hurt Von."

"Nothing to be sorry about," I replied. "If I ever thought you hurt Tamika I'd kick your ass too."

Back at the motel, I headed to the room while Shavonda went "to get ice." Or so she said. No sooner had I settled into the room than there was a knock on the door. "Who is it?" I asked.

"Tis I, the milkmaid," came Shavonda's voice. Milkmaid? I was confused. Then it hit me. We were still in our medieval regalia. I decided to play along. I opened the door to find a smiling Shavonda, who was obviously in a playful mood.

"If thou art the milkmaid, where art thy jugs, wench?" I asked. Shavonda stepped into the room, reaching into her peasant dress to pull out a breast. Her nipple was fully aroused, and formed an enticing bullseye with her dark areola. I licked my lips, I couldn't help myself. Even after over two years of almost daily contact, the sight of her naked breast still drove me crazy. And she knew it.

"Here is thy jug, sire," she replied with a smirk. "Did I also mention I am a wet nurse?" Pushing me back on the bed, she shoved her nipple in my mouth. I sucked greedily, enjoying her sweet milk flooding my mouth. As I did, her hands wandered my body. She unbuttoned my shirt as I fed, moaning in pleasure as my tongue worked her nipple against my lips. God, I was going to miss this. As Miracle ate more solid food, she was taking less milk, which meant Shavonda was producing less.

With one breast drained, I gently helped her out of the peasant dress and her panties before kissing my way down to her thighs. Still in character, I told her, "I needeth to drink of thy sweet nectar." My fingers had already worked their way deep within her moist tunnel, and I gently caressed the sponginess of her G spot. I knew that drove her crazy. When I felt her begin to tighten around my fingers, moaning wildly, I knew she was close. Removing my fingers under her protests and the threat of "I'ma get you for that," I replaced them with my tongue.

Shavonda rewarded me almost immediately with a shuddering orgasm. She held my head in place as she ground herself into my face like a wild woman. Honestly, I think this was what I loved most about eating her: having her completely lose control. As she peaked, I slowed my tongue to give her a brief rest, before starting again. By now, she was so juicy both my cheeks and her thighs were a slippery mess. Oh, yeah, baby. Ride my tongue just like that. Right now, I exist for your pleasure.

"I needeth thy manhood deep inside my womb," Shavonda said, pushing my head from between her legs. I slid my way up to kiss her. What she did to me! All day long I'd been looking at her in that dress, the tops of her breasts showing, teasing me. Even though I tried not to let on, I couldn't help but look at her as we talked. She reminded me so much of an old film I'd seen in high school English class, a performance of Shakespeare's Taming of the Shrew. I remembered being fascinated by the period costume the actress wore, one that showed her cleavage just like this. Except that the lady before me was no shrew. She was the love of my life, and I had no desire to tame her, to break her spirit.

Now she lay there naked beneath me, her hand guiding my hard rod to her sopping entrance, positioning the head at her opening then thrusting her hips upward to impale herself on me. All the while, acting like the Shakespearean woman seducing her knight.

We fell into a rhythm that was neither rushed nor tiring. My queen rocked herself beneath me, grinding against me as I thrust deep into her. In my mind, I remembered the lady from the film, feisty, thrown back on the bed, out of breath, breasts heaving in that dress. Except the in scene I was living now, she was a beautiful black woman with her hair natural, naked, breathless beneath me, willingly allowing me access to her most intimate place. Breasts heaving just like in the film, bouncing with each thrust that I made. Meeting me halfway each time. Moving her body in time to mine, to increase the pleasure for both of us. There was no longer any role playing. Neither of us spoke, the only sounds were out passionate moans, groans and grunts. The sounds of two people expressing their love for each other in the most special way possible.

Anybody could have sex. Sex was fun. Sex was something we'd both experienced before, with others, many times. We'd both enjoyed it. We weren't ashamed of that fact. But this was different. Sex is never better than when you are doing it with the person you are madly, passionately in love with. And knowing that they love and cherish you just as much as you do them. It is no longer sex, but making love. The ultimate expression of the single person you've both become. You do it, with a burning, uncontrollable desire, knowing that neither of you is complete without the other.

It felt beyond good, nestled deep within her gently pulsing tunnel. It felt natural. It felt like home.

We rode out the sensations, not in a rush for it to end, dancing right to the edge, but stopping short of going over. Backing off, stopping for a minute to catch our breath, pulling out if need be. Then gently sliding against each other until our bodies found each other again, and I slipped back inside. Shavonda was so wet, so aroused that it took no effort at all to slide deep within her once more. And we resumed our thrusting, with a bit more urgency this time. Looking into each other's eyes. Watching the now familiar faces we each made in the throes of passion. I was getting close once more. So was she. I could feel the telltale clenching around me, her body trying to draw me deeper within her. Devouring my entire length, until my balls slapped against her bottom. Our rhythm was faster now. We both knew it was time...

"Planteth thy seed deep within my fertile womb," Shavonda cried out. "Maketh me heavy with thy child." I stopped, shocked, in mid stroke. I wasn't expecting that. Damn, I was so close. I stared at her, and she at me. Then we both burst out in hysterical laughter. I'd never been inside her when she laughed. The way her pussy walls contracted around me as she shook hysterically was new. It was great. It was all too much.

"Ohhhhhhhh," I groaned as I gave in to the sensations and let go of the orgasm I'd been toying with for so long. I pulsed inside her, filling her with my sperm. Spurt after spurt, I emptied myself in her willing body as she clenched around me. Exhausted, I collapsed on top of her. "I love you so much," I panted as she ran her fingers through my long hair.

We lay there for a while, gently rubbing each other, trying not to fall asleep. I couldn't let her drift off. I had other plans for Shavonda.

,

"You deserve a long, luxurious bath," I said, watching her face light up. To me, there was no sight more beautiful than Shavonda's wide grin when she was happy. I took her hand and led her to the bathroom. While the tub was filling, I sat on the floor and rubbed her legs and feet, much to her delight. She sat on the toilet and raised each leg in turn to give me access.

We hadn't brought her bubble bath. It hadn't occurred to us we'd need it. Instead, I dumped about half a bottle of her body wash into the water and let the suds rise. I helped her into the tub and sat behind her. I used her bath gloves to sensually wash her back, then turned her around and did her front. I couldn't resist removing the gloves and feeling up her soapy nipples. That was one of the things I liked most about taking baths and showers with her: the silky slick way her skin felt when she was soaped up.

Stepping from the tub, I dried her off, then led her by the hand back to the bed. There, I used her lotions and coconut oil to give her an all over massage. My queen deserved to be pampered. To be truthful, I hadn't been pampering her the way she deserved. This woman was my everything, and in the stress that had lately impacted our lives I had taken her for granted.

"Never, ever forget that I love you with all my heart. Sometimes it's scary how much you mean to me," I told her as I massaged her back. Shavonda moaned, giving in to the pleasure my loving hands created. As I worked my way down to her booty, she squirmed. All the while I worked the oil into her skin until she was shiny and slick. I massaged her thighs and legs, ending up with a long foot massage.

Finishing her feet, I asked Shavonda to roll over so I could massage the rest of her. To my surprise, she got up from the bed, walked across the room to her purse, and started writing on a sheet of paper she had inside. Finishing, she walked back to the bed and handed it to me. "This is for your protection," she said in a serious tone. I read what she'd written.

"To whom it may concern, I, Shavonda M Waite, hereby give my consent to any acts, sexual or otherwise, that my husband Jefferson S Waite performs with me this night." The message was signed and dated. I looked at my wife, confused. "Do you really feel you need to do this?" I asked.