Businesswoman

(Author's note: No characters under 18. All Rights reserved.)

Businesswoman

Elena Faye Montgomery

"I need your license, title, and insurance, ma'am," the large, somewhat pudgy officer said.

"Yes, sir! It's in my glove compartment and purse," I told the man.

"Hurry it up, ma'am, I don't have all night," he told me.

"Sir, I have a registered weapon but it's under my seat," I informed him.

"Step outside, ma'am," the officer continued.

"You don't want my license, title, and insurance, now?" I asked.

"Ma'am, I want you outside with your hands on the roof of your car! Don't make me ask you again!" he was beginning to sound agitated.

I quickly unsnapped my seat belt. He opened my car door. As he had ordered. I put my hands on the roof above the passenger compartment rear door.

"Is it all right if I frisk you, or do you want a female officer here?" he inquired.

I was dressed in a bodycon dress that left little to the imagination. I had hands all over my body all evening. What the hell! I told him, "You can frisk me, sir. I assure you I have nothing concealed."

He frisked me quickly but thoroughly paying especial attention to my 38D's. "Step behind your vehicle, ma'am."

I stepped behind my car. He roughly pulled one of my hands behind my back and slapped a handcuff on my wrist. He then pulled my other arm back and snapped the other cuff on me. "Step to the side, Ma'am," he ordered curtly. I stepped to the side. "I'll help you sit, ma'am." I knew it was useless to say that I didn't want grass stains on my dress. He briefly searched my car and proudly pulled my.38 out and placed it on the trunk. He asked again, "Where are your license, title, and insurance.

I explained, "The auto license receipt is in the owner's manual, which is in the glove compartment. My license and insurance are in my billfold which is in my purse." He searched the glove box and found the license receipt. Then he took my purse and displayed it in front of me. He pulled out my billfold, and I guided him to the compartment holding my license and insurance card. He placed all three and my purse on the back of my car. Another police car came up with lights flashing. Another officer got out of his car and came forward to between my car and the first officer's car.

Officer Thomas Culpepper

I saw a black lady handcuffed and unhappily seated on the grass. I saw a.38 automatic and a purse and documents on the back of a late-model Cadillac sedan. I asked the arresting officer, "Joe, what do you have?"

Officer Joe Pendergraft replied, "Sergeant, I have a pistol, for which I haven't checked the registration yet, black female driving a Cadillac, and I smell alcohol on her breath."

I checked the documents on the back of the car. "Joe, why don't you check on her registration and outstanding warrants. I'll see if she merits a breathalyzer."

I inquired, "Elena Faye, have you been drinking?"

She replied, "Yes, sir, I had three mixed drinks over about three hours at a club."

I asked her to follow my finger and the other simple intoxication tests. She seemed alert and slightly impaired but not enough to be concerned.

I asked, "Do you know why you were stopped and cuffed?"

She said, with a few tears running down her mahogany cheeks, "No sir, I don't."

I said, "I don't either. I am going to ask you to do one more field test for sobriety. I'm going to help you to your feet and then I'm going to remove your cuffs."

A few more tears ran down her face, as she replied, "Thank you, sir!" I helped her to her feet and removed the cuffs, adding them to the things on her trunk.

I walked her through the balance, find your nose, and walking in a straight line test, and she passed them. She passed all of them.

I told her, "As far as I'm concerned, you're free to go as soon as Joe verifies no outstanding warrants."

Joe joined us, "She's clean," he informed me. He returned to his car after retrieving his cuffs. I watched as she tearfully gathered up her things. Somebody passed us like a bat out of hell. Joe took off immediately, siren screaming and lights flashing. I tapped on her window and told her, "I have to apologize for Joe being a little overzealous. Tell you what, if you're interested and have the time, I'll buy you a cup of coffee."

She seemed a little reluctant but then said, "No more handcuffs?"

I agreed, "No more handcuffs."

She replied, "I'll follow you."

I led her to a nearby twenty-four hour coffee shop. When she got out of the car, I noticed a pair of very attractive light brown legs. As the rest of her body followed, I realized that Elena Faye was incredibly stacked in a very revealing little tan dress.

We sat down in a booth. I told her, "This is all unofficial, right?"

She said, "Sure"

I said, "When I invited you for coffee, I really didn't realize what a knock out you were."

She replied, "Really!", with a sort of disbelieving smirk.

I told her, "Damn! Now I've lost my credibility."

She told me, "Maybe not completely, you were a lot nicer than the other officer."

I continued, "May I ask what you were doing out alone tonight?"

She said, "Sure, I met some of my girlfriends for a sort of a girls' night out. They all paired up with guys, and I decided to go home alone."

I explained, "I would have thought you would be the first one to find someone to pair up with."

She replied, "Maybe I'm a little more discriminating."

I replied, "That's good. May I call you Elena?"

She responded, "Sure, that's my name! What can I call you?"

I said, "My name is Tom. What do you do, Elena?"

She explained, "I'm trained as a cosmetologist, but I guess I qualify as a businesswoman, since I own three salons and a couple of other businesses as well."

I told her, "I thought you were a special person. You showed a lot of restraint on that traffic stop. A white male businessman would have been threatening legal action and probably a lot more."

She again began tearing up, "Tom, I didn't want to go to jail. I felt like it would all come right in the end. And sure enough, you came charging up to save me."

I said, "Elena, I was just doing my job, trying to keep Joe from getting himself into trouble."

She inquired, "Does your job include taking potential perps out for coffee?"

I replied, "Only if they're as gorgeous as you are."

She joked, "Be careful of sexual harassment!"

I replied, "Only in my dreams!"

She said, "I've had enough tea, if you follow me, I'll buy you a drink!"

I answered, "I can't turn an offer like that down. Fortunately, I went off shift about fifteen minutes ago."

I followed her gold-colored Cadillac to a nice, well-kept sixties style home in a semi-residential area. She explained, "I'm parking here, we can walk to the bar."

The first business we passes was Elena Faye's Beauty Salon. We then entered Elly's Place Bar and Grill. There was a little bit of a hush when we walked in but then the clientele seemed to go back to normal. I'd say Elly's Place was forty to fifty percent full with a mixed clientele. Some tables appeared to be all black, a few were all white, many were mixed. She seated me at the bar, then she went behind it and said, "What do you want, sailor?"

I replied, "If I can't have you, I'll take a scotch and water."

She responded, "Scotch and water coming up. As far as your other request goes, the night is still young."

I wasn't falling in love, but I certainly was falling in lust with this woman that I had just met. I think she fixed herself a mimosa. Anyway, once she finished, she came around and sat on the bar stool next to me. She opened with, "Have you ever been with a black girl?"

I admitted, "You're the first black girl that I've been attracted to."

She responded, "So you think I might be okay?"

I explained, "No, I think you would be a lot more than okay. Try personable, intelligent, and beautiful for starters."

She said, "You know, sailor, I'm usually not attracted to white guys, but somehow you're different. I think of you as Tom, not some white guy sitting next to me."

I replied, "I guess I think of you as Elena, a woman with nicely tanned skin."

She finished her mimosa, "Are you ready to go, Tom?"

I smiled and said, "Where are we going?"

She said, "I'm walking past our cars and into my house. You can stop at your car and go home, or I can show you around my house."

The house tour didn't get past the main floor master bedroom. I took her in my arms and kissed her. As the kiss progressed, first, my tongue, and then her tongue came into play. Her taste was a little different than most girls I'd kissed. Perhaps a little salty, musky, smoky, or all three. I liked the difference. Our clothes just seemed to melt away. God, was she stacked.

When I went down on her, the same minor difference in taste was there. Again, I liked it. After her first orgasm, I kissed back up her body to her lips and then guided my manhood into her slit. It was hot, very nice. She began moaning, panting, and kissing as I slowly stroked her. Oh God, did it feel good. The kissing was nice, but that pussy, hot and wet, was fantastic. I generally have excellent control, but it was a struggle to hold off my ejaculation. Her hips bucked as she cried out in ecstasy, "Oh, fuck, that's good!" I paused for her to regain her composure and then began ramming her a little faster and a little harder. She cried out lots of stuff, but what I remembered was, "Oh, honey! Don't stop! Please don't stop!" In a few minutes her whole body shook in the pleasure of another climax. I knew I was getting closer but tried to hold off for one more climax for her. I banged her ever harder and ever faster and I was very close to simultaneously ejaculating as she had a convulsive orgasm.

She was breathing hard as I held her and felt my erection lessening. When she could breath near normally, she said, "Oh, Tom! That was wonderful! Maybe I need a steady diet of white boy cock!"

I replied, "That's fine so long as it's this white boy's cock! Elena, you were beyond fantastic!"

She responded, "Only because of you. Tom, I'd like you to hold me while I sleep, but if you want to go, that's all right, too!"

I told her, "I have to work tomorrow, but I wouldn't mind holding you for a while."

She kissed me one more time and then closed her eyes and went to sleep, her head against my chest and my arms around her. It was very endearing on her part. My lust was satiated, but I still liked being with her.

We slept about five hours until around six. We awakened to morning light around her bedroom's blinds. I kissed her and did she ever kiss me back. By the time her hand found my rod of joy, I was almost ready for action. I kissed down that beautiful mahogany body, stopping to pay tribute to her very dark areolas and nipples. By the time I reached her pink pussy, she was wet, very wet. It was a very few minutes of licking her clit and slit until she was crying out her joy in climax.

I then rolled her over pulled her up to her knees and began giving her the thorough reaming that she deserved. I loved to feel the contractions of her orgasms. Nevertheless, on the fourth climax, I unloaded, spurting against the walls of her love canal. It was a great way to start the day.

She suggested we go to Elly's Place for breakfast and then return to her bed for a final snog before I went home to prepare for my day's shift. I thought that was an excellent plan and we followed it to the letter. They had excellent waffle sandwiches at Elly's, and the coffee was about as good as it gets.

Back in her bed, I made her change positions each time she orgasmed. I think she was on her eighth orgasm when I finally had to release my load deep into her cunt. I had really enjoyed being with a dark-skinned woman, but now I had to back to being a policeman. I thought, "What are you doing? In my mid-thirties, I didn't know if my parents would accept her.

As it approached time for me to check in at the station, I decided that I wanted more of what Elena was giving me. I called her and she said I could come over to her house when I went off shift. I knew I would be hornier than hell by then and hoped that she would be too.

She met me at the door in a white negligee that left little to the imagination. I think it was less than five minutes from her greeting at the door until I was penetrating her wonderful, warm, wet snatch. It was just as good, perhaps a little better than our first night together.

After two rounds we went over to Elly's Place for cocktails. I asked her about calling her Elly. She told me she answered to Elena, Elly, or E with or without the Faye. I decided I liked both Elena and Elly. Another round back at her place and we went to sleep with me spooning her. I liked it because I could kiss the back of her neck whenever I wanted. That was a frequent occurrence.

Elena

After the traumatic interaction with Officer Pendergraft, having Tom take over was a pleasure. I don't know why but I seemed to have a special feeling for him. I was almost overjoyed when he asked me for a cup of coffee. Long story short we then went for a drink at Elly's Place. I then took him to see my house. We never got past the master bedroom. I didn't remember ever being so hot as I was for him when we got to my bedroom. I knew for sure I had never been so hot for a white guy. The white guys I was with before Tom were nothing to write home about. Tom took things to a level that I had only approached with black lovers. It quickly became clear that he was the real deal. When he went down on me, I just melted. It seemed like no time until I was cumming. His wasn't the biggest rod I had ever had, but he seemed to know just what to do with it and when to do it. I came and I came and I came again.

I was very pleased that he was willing to spend the night with him. My hopes for another round in the morning were met and then exceeded. The only details I could remember was that he just made me feel wonderful all over. It even felt good to sleep against him. I think I could have spent another eight hours in bed with him, but unfortunately he had to go to work.

I am a very conscientious boss, but some how I didn't want to go to work the next day. I just wanted to think of all the pleasures he had given me the night before. It made my day when he called and I invited him to my house for more of the same.

I think the second night was even better than the first even though the first was marvelous. I asked him if I should come to his place sometimes. He said I had a better bed, a better house, and a better bar and grill almost next door. I took his word for it and we continued our nightly rendezvouses at my house.

Gradually, I got back in the swing of running my businesses again, although all my female employees were teasing me about my new man, even though some of them didn't know anything about Tom, not even his name. They still could tell that for some reason I was happier than I had been for a long time.

My businesses keep me busy. I don't know what they're worth, but I do know that my debts are in the low seven figures. I may not be a millionaire in assets but I certainly am in liabilities. I have a wide range of assets: First and foremost are my three beauty salons. Then there is Elly's Place. I also own a motel, two apartment complexes, and some commercial real estate, mainly strip malls that are partially tenanted by my businesses. My car is a business expense, as I spend a lot of time, driving between businesses, just making sure that each and every one of my businesses is doing well.

I like to wear knit body-con dresses. mostly square cut. I like them about an inch above mid-thigh, pushing the limits a little bit. On the other end, I vary the cleavage from a little bit to a whole lot depending on the situation. Less cleavage for business meetings, more for pussycatting around. For the latter I have a dress that is split all the way to below my navel, but with straps holding the sides together, as long as they stay buttoned. I think I can pull this off nicely because I have nice mahogany legs topped by a 38D-25-37 body. I keep my hair shoulder-length and straighten it regularly. Sometimes I wear it in a bun or a pigtail. Socially I let it hand down to slightly below my shoulder blades. I have a good complexion so I don't use much makeup. My hair is black and goes nicely with my dark brown eyes.

I think Tom really likes my knit boy-con dresses, particularly the ones that show a lot of cleavage. We seldom have any problems when we go out clubbing because Tom is a pretty large guy, and telling guys that are borderline aggressive that my boyfriend is a cop usually cools them off pretty quick.

My time with Tom was almost idyllic until one night I was coming out of Elly's Place with Ronnie. I was headed home to meet Tom, and I saw what I thought was his car slow down and then drive off. As I was letting us in to my house, I got a text message from Tom, saying simply, 'Elena, what's going on?'

I texted him back, 'Where R U? I though U were coming over after your shift.'

He texted me back, 'Who was the dude you were at Elly's with?'

I texted him back, 'That was my cousin Ronnie. I thought you'd like to meet him.'

It seemed like he didn't quite believe me, although he eventually came back and joined us in my living room.

I introduced Tom to Ronnie and they were civil but not much more. Shortly, Ronnie excused himself. He was studying economics in graduate school. I could tell Tom wasn't comfortable with my explanation that I had known Ronnie over twenty years, since we were children, and that we were just cousins, and nothing more.

Tom

I didn't know whether to believe Elly or not. Her story was credible but when I saw them coming out of Elly's Place they seemed a lot friendlier than distant cousins. They seemed even friendlier than a brother and sister would normally be. I still made love to Elly that night but I had to admit I was not as enthusiastic as usual. I'm not sure if it was just me or both of us not being our usual passionate selves.

I had to admit that what I saw as an unusual level of intimacy could have just been two friends kidding around but I couldn't make myself believe that. I decided to try to do a little investigating of Mr. Ronnie.

I found a family tree for Elly on one of the online ancestry sites. She had a second cousin once removed named Ronnie. Assuming it was the same guy, as far as I knew no religion or state forbade relationships between second cousins.

After a few weeks of not seeing Ronnie around, it sort of blew over and Elly and I regained our previous passion for each other. But then another 'cousin' showed up. When Elly let me in her house, there was Jerry sitting on her living room sofa. I was introduced to him as Cousin Jerry.

When I looked at Elly's family tree I saw no Jerry, Jeremiah, Gerald, or Jeremy. Ditto for George, Geraldo, Geronimo, Jared, Jerome, Jermaine, and Jeronimo. I decided I needed to talk to Elly about this.

That night, I asked her, "What is going on with you and Ronnie and Jerry?"

She replied, "What do you mean?"

I said, "You seem awfully friendly with them for merely cousins!"

She got a shocked look on her face, "I thought you knew they were cousins with benefits!"

I told her, "I thought we were a couple and I was the only one with benefits."

She continued, "Oh, God! Honey, I thought we were on the same page. You're wanting me to only be with you, aren't you?"

I explained, "I thought that was the way things were. I never thought that you had cousins with benefits."

She apologized, "I'm so sorry, Tom. I didn't understand that. This is all a misunderstanding. If you want me to be only with you, I can do that. I can't change the past but I can do it going forward."

I inquired, "How many guys are having benefits with you?"

She admitted, "I'm sorry, Tom. We should have talked about this. I've been seeing four guys once or twice a month. Tom, I'll stop seeing them. I didn't know this was so important to you."

I asked, "Do you want to stop seeing them?"

She explained, "I enjoy being with someone else once in a while. I assumed you were the same way. I might as well say it. Tom, I love you. If you want me to not go with anyone else, I won't go with anyone else. I enjoy being with other guys but I don't need it. I need you. I hope you don't feel that I have disrespected you."

I told her, "This was a big surprise to me. I think I need some time to think about it."

She continued, "Tom, I'm so sorry. I can tell that I have disappointed you. I never wanted to do that. Please, believe me, I can't change the past but I can do differently in the future. That's all I can do."

I still had doubts, "You would like to keep on seeing these guys, wouldn't you?"

She said, "I would. It's like my car. I would like to have a newer car, but I don't want the unpleasantness of paying out a bunch of money to upgrade. With my sexual activity, I enjoy doing these guys but it's not worth the price of losing you. I'm not willing to pay that price."

I responded, "Interesting way to put it. I feel like I really need to think this through. There's two sides of this: What I'm comfortable with and what you're comfortable with. I just want to do the right thing going forward."

She added, "Even if it means dumping me?"

I admitted, "That's a possibility but I don't think it's high probability."

She leaned against me, I put an arm around her. "I hope you come to a good conclusion."

I told her, "I think I'll be happier with you than without you, but I just want to get comfortable with whatever I decide."

It was hard. She was willing to give me what I wanted, but I wasn't sure that was fair, or even the best solution in the long run.

Two nights later I talked to her again, "Elena, you told me that you're willing to give me one hundred percent of what I want, but I wonder if that's fair to you. I don't think you're getting a hundred percent of what you want."

She said, "I don't know if it's ninety percent or ninety-five percent or ninety-nine percent, but as long as I get you, I'm okay. Before I met you, I needed thess guys. I don't need them, but I need you. It's no big deal to give them up. Losing you would be a very big deal."

I said, "You've got me. Now let's say that you have ninety-five percent of what you want. What would it take to get you to ninety-eight percent of your desires?"

She thought a minute, "Are you sure about this, Tom? I think it's a very generous offer, but I want you to be fully on board with anything we decide."

I explained, "Elena, in my mind I haven't agreed to anything. I'm saying I'd like to hear your offer."

She responded, "Okay, Tom, here goes. One night a month, I pick the night. I don't come home. Can we say, 'No questions are asked'?"

I came back with, "So, tell me how this would work."

She told me, "One night a month, I don't come home. Of course, I tell you what night with plenty of advance warning. On that night, I might have a date, I might go out pussycatting, or I might just visit girlfriends. Honestly, I probably would be trying to hook up with a big black cock, but not necessarily every time. Do you think you could handle that?"

I replied, "We may have to renegotiate if we decide to get married. In the meantime, I think I can handle it, as long as you're happy with it."

She told me, "I think it's very generous of you. I know I'm not jumping up and down, but I'm actually ecstatic about it. And, Tom, anytime you want to renegotiate, that's fine. I think it's okay to have a little extracurricular fun once in a while, but my number one priority is always having you to come home to. One more thing. It's only fair that you get a night a month, even though I hope you don't use it every time."

I explained, "I'm happy with this, although the proof is in the pudding. We'll have to see how I feel after your first night or two of pussycatting."

She then added, "Tom, I love you."

I admitted, "It's hard for me to say, but I don't know of any other words to express my feelings for you. Elena, I love you."

It worked fine until her first monthly outing. I would have preferred less cleavage and less leg, but I had given her permission and I owed her the courtesy of at least one try.

She kissed me goodbye and told me that she loved me and then she walked out the door. I had moved in with her, so I was waiting for her at her house. She left about six-thirty for an early dinner date. I walked over to Elly's place for a sandwich.

Clair, my waitress, knew me, and asked, "Where's your dark princess?"

"Doing something dark," I replied.

She responded, "Sorry about that, chief."

How did she know what Elly was doing? I was a little embarrassed but it was a good sandwich, washed down with a beer. I offered to pay, but she told me, "Elly's got this."

I woke up early the next morning, around seven. I texted Elly, 'Where R U?' I had expected her to be back a lot earlier. Around ten I got a return message, 'Be home soon. XOXOXOX.'

Soon turned out to be twelve-thirty. She came in bedraggled. Her hair was a shambles. I wasn't sure but I thought there was cum in it. She went straight to the master bath and did a complete shower. When she returned to the living area she looked fresh as a daisy. She greeted me with "I kind of ran over, didn't I?"

"Only by about six hours," I clarified.

"I'm sorry, baby," she replied, "I lost track of time. Tre was very horny."

I told her, "If we're going to do this we need to stick to the agreement. You don't need to explain. Please try to do better next month."

That was Wednesday. On Saturday afternoon, I called her to see if she had eaten lunch. There was no answer. I tried again about an hour later. Still no answer. I asked Shelley, the manageress of Elena Faye, if she knew where Elly was. She said she thought she was going by Elena Faye Salon #2. I decided to see if that was where she was. I missed a turn and cut through a street I would usually not go on. It was hard to miss the gold Cadillac, parked in front of a small, somewhat run-down apartment complex. I took a picture, making sure that the license plate was visible. There was mistaking the customized 'Elena F.' I drove back to our home.

She came back about six-thirty, saying, "Hi, honey. I didn't know you'd be home." I showed her the image of her car parked outside the apartment complex.

Her smile vanished, she started crying, "I'm so sorry, baby."

I commented, "Sorry you got caught!"

She started to cry but managed to reply, "No, sorry I couldn't keep my panties on. Baby, I was set up. I wasn't forced, but I was set up."

I told her, "I'm not sure I want to hear this."

She said, "I'm ashamed of what I did. I hope this doesn't end us."

I responded, "It might!"

She cried some more, "Please, baby. Anything but that."

I said, rather harshly, "I think you need to take this up with the woman who did this!"

She spoke through her tears, "Tom, I love you. Please don't dump me!"

I told her, "I consider this to be very bad. I'm not sure I want to be with you anymore."

Slowly, she pleaded her case, "I know I don't deserve another chance, but I'll do anything for you."

I asked, "How many strikes do you think you should get? Ten? Twenty? I don't think I can give that many."

She kept on, "Baby, I know I did you wrong. Please let me have another chance."

I explained, "I just don't know! I just don't know. I have to go somewhere and calm myself down before I go to work. I'll see you tomorrow."

I packed a small bag with a change of clothes and headed somewhere, anywhere. I decided to just go to a motel after my shift was over. Fortunately, there wee no major difficulties on my shift. I filled out my reports and headed for a motel close to the substation.

I was wondering how I ever came to be involved with such a fucked up chick. She was okay if she could keep her panties on. I tried to be a nice guy and gave her some generous terms. It was obvious now that that was a mistake. Give them an inch and they'll take a mile. It wasn't really that bad, but close enough. I was beginning to think we didn't have enough to be worth saving. I really didn't know what to say to her. I was leaning toward, 'Go to hell; do not pass go!'

I talked to her about her extracurricular activities, and she explained that if I was concerned about that, we needed to decide what it took to make me happy; maybe she could do it and maybe she wouldn't. To me, that was a romance-killing answer. I felt like where we had an explicit understanding, we were okay, but it seemed like we just weren't on the same page with a lot of implicit things. Was it a difference in culture, or just a difference between two people? I decided it didn't matter; we just weren't destined to spend the rest of our lives together. I thought I was willing to make the effort, but at the end of the day, I wasn't. Moreover, it didn't appear she was willing, either.

We parted on relatively good terms; the worst of it was a few sarcastic remarks. At the end of the day I was even more convinced that I had made the right decision. I missed her for a while, but in a few months, I was back in the swing.