CHAPTER ONE

    Selby Maison stood in front of the mirror and watched as her fingers caressed the healed scar that ran from her navel to the top of her pussy.

      There was a time when she took pleasure in gazing at her own body, but now she couldn’t bear to look at her reflection and she definitely wasn't going to torment a man into lying about how sexy she was. 

      To seduce a woman of wealth and notoriety, a man would use every trick in the book, including lying. Such men, generally speaking, were lousy fucks with huge egos. Egos that required you to lie about their alleged sexual prowess that left you frustrated and unfulfilled.

      Moreover, a lousy fuck only taught you how to become as consummate a liar as he was by telling him how great he was in bed. It was shameful what a woman would do and say to not sleep alone.

      Now that Selby couldn't have babies, the thought of marriage was no longer appealing. What good was the white picket fence without children playing behind them? She didn't look forward to explaining to every potential partner that he was giving up his opportunity to have children by being with her.

      As she turned to the side, she had no choice but to admit she never took pleasure in looking at her body in the mirror, because her stomach and hips had always been too big for generally-accepted standards of beauty. Her naturally large breasts were so heavy they started going south when she turned twenty-five. Now at thirty-five, just three years after her partial hysterectomy, her stomach, tits, hips, and ass had become what seemed to be one big mass of flesh.

      Yes, she was one of the obese American statistics you always hear about. A native of Alabama, she was a lifetime member of the S.B.A.S.B.W., Southern Big Ass Society of Black Women.

      It was not a myth that southern women could cook and she was no exception. Her foster mother made sure that she would be a virginal bride and homemaker with a good Holiness background. These genteel qualities in no way helped in her battle to be thin. 

      Hell, how was it possible to be thin when it only took two hours to whip up her own batch of biscuits, complimented by some smokin' smothered fried chicken, accompanied by a jar of sweet iced tea, and topped off with a thick slice of double chocolate cake? 

      When a woman can sit down at the table and enjoy her own cooking she knows she doesn't stand a snowball's chance in hell of wearing a size six. As part of her first contract in the entertainment industry, there had been a stipulation that she maintain her figure between a size six and eight. Depressed from her failed marriage, she took comfort in the kitchen and once she reached a size ten, they broke her contract and dumped her from their label.

      This wasn't a big deal for a platinum recording artist. Immediately she signed with another label and they stood by her all the way up to a size eighteen; then they, too, dropped her. 

      So now, she was a size twenty-two and working in local Las Vegas casinos while earning revenue from her old hits. Her best friend and manager, Zaza, had hustled a comeback contract and they were waiting for new songs that she didn't know if she was capable of producing. 

      Sigh.

      The one thing Selby could admit was she was lonely and horny as hell. Her lover of the past three years had been her fine, double-door white refrigerator loaded with all her favorite goodies. She was a woman who had lost her zest for life. 

      Strangely, since the dreams started a couple of years ago, the comfort of food was no longer enough.

      Selby wondered when did a woman get to the point where she could forgive herself for choosing career over children? When would she stop blaming herself for squandering her youth in order to please others?

      With a yawning sigh, Selby moved away from the mirror. Every time she walked into the master bath with its Grecian marble floors, she remembered she needed to buy more throw rugs. How she loved the feeling of sinking her naked toes into the plush cream carpet of her dressing room!

      Turning the ornamental knobs, she watched as the water rose along the sides of the luxurious sunken bathtub.

      She made sure housekeeping hadn't reset the thermostat on the bathtub while she twisted her mid-length hair atop her head, using extra-long bobby pins to secure it in place.

      Selby treaded down two rubber-covered steps and eased into the water, allowing it to envelope her body into a cocoon of warmth. 

      With the press of a button, the opening strains of music from her first album flooded the room. Deep inside, she hoped it would eventually spark some creative ideas for the current album.

      It was no secret her new producers had voiced concerns that she had lost her ability to pen chart-topping songs. They even asked her to consider singing tunes by other writers. Frowning as she reflected on that request, she wondered how she could evoke an emotional connection to her songs if they weren't HER songs? She would know the difference, so would her fans.

      Selby leaned her head back and allowed her neck to rest on the bath pillow. She closed her eyes, replaying the past few years of her life and wondered how she managed to survive.

      Her last album hadn't been as successful as the first and she knew what the difference had been. When she had written the first one, she had been in love.

      Correction, she had been a fool for love. That is usually what happens when you are in a one-sided relationship.

      She opened her heart, legs, house, and bank account to that man. Isn't that what newly-married women are supposed to do? As Brian had pointed out, why did she marry him if she didn't trust him? 

      Of course she could have blamed her impetuous marriage, undertaken without a prenuptial agreement, on too much alcohol, or because she was bored, but that would have been a lie. She married him because she loved him and his happiness had become her new goal in life; that and having his babies, of course. Yet, for him there had never been a good time to have children.

      It had taken nearly three years of large, unexplained withdrawals from her account and a serious threat by one of her husband's loan sharks to face the truth.

      Once Zaza gave her the report from the private investigator she had hired on her behalf, there was no denying the truth. She had been living a lie and now it all seemed obvious.

      His medical complaints of back pain, the phantom stomach cancer, and his fictional work history, had been his way of manipulating her emotions as he weaseled his way into her heart. The private investigator's report confirmed that Brian's entire life was one big pretense after another. 

      Three years into the marriage trusting, supporting, and loving this man.  Selby learned she had married a complete stranger.

      She had thought that she was being a good Christian wife by supporting a loving man presently down on his luck, only to find none of her life with Brian had been real. 

      Were all women this easily duped by a conniving man? Or was she particularly vulnerable due to her feelings of low self-esteem and abandonment, as her psychiatrist suggested during one of her overpriced therapy sessions?

      Any child growing up without knowing their real parents and having to accept the foster family's refusal to adopt them was going to have issues.

      It didn't take much for her to figure out once they adopted her, no more checks. Thus began the pattern of becoming a pawn for others' monetary gain.

      Selby reluctantly returned her thoughts back to Brian. She couldn't believe that nothing absolutely nothing about Brian had been the truth, not his expressed devotion to his hardworking mother who raised three children alone, not his college degree in finance, or the accountant executive position he chose to leave back in Georgia.

      Selby had wanted to believe everything; she had thought it was strange that his cousin was safekeeping his vehicle back in Georgia while he was living in Vegas utilizing public transportation. After awhile she thought it seemed logical, since he had a new job that could take him out of town at a drop of a hat. 

      She knew it was strange that he was never able to produce an emergency contact number where he could be reached at work and, when she finally put her foot down and he gave her a number, it never dawned on her to call and check.

      She didn't mind his mysterious job taking him away for days at a time; after all, it had been an ideal situation for Selby. She was on the road a lot with her own career and having a man with his own business interests seemed the ideal situation. Yet, once she got a permanent Vegas gig that allowed her to remain at home, she realized he actually never traveled anywhere.

      Selby believed him when he told her he had asked for a desk position that would allow him to do most of his accounting work from home. 

      She had seen him working with numbers all the time and how was she to know they were figures for bets he placed in the casino sports bars? She had been a stupid ass, seeing only what she wanted to see, and paid dearly for it with the hefty divorce settlement.

      Selby opened her eyes and reached out to shut off the water as she felt the soothing liquid tickling russet-colored nipples.

      She no longer had to deal with monthly periods and, now that she could have uninterrupted sex, the surgical scars and added weight made her insecure.

      She often wondered if the hysterectomy would make a man's cock feel different inside her. Would he be able to tell the difference? Would this make her less desirable as a woman?

      One old wives tale she had heard from her elderly foster mother after surgery was that her pussy would dry up and shrivel like a prune. Of course, she didn't exactly say it like that, but Selby was terrified up until she had taken a mirror and checked out her plumbing. It was still a slippery, rosy twat and her ovaries, which remained intact, allowed her to produce enough juices to drown a man. 

      She laughed aloud, realizing that was a bit of an exaggeration; however, she was thinking of buying stock in panty shields because she seemed to walk around in a state of aroused wetness.

      She sighed in annoyance as she felt her clit tweak in agreement.

      I hear ya, Clitessa, she chastised, using the little pet name she gave her clitoris, after all if men could name their cocks why couldn't women name their buttons of joy?

      Selby squirted some bath oil in her hand and worked up an oil slick between her palms before she skimmed a slippery hand beneath one heavy breast to glide her fingertips around the brunette areola with her free hand.

      Gently, then more firmly, she tweaked and tugged until the pebble of her nipple extended and she was able to lean forward and administer licks from her hot, wet tongue. She licked, suckled, and gasped as she released her nipple from her damp lips.

      Selby could feel the pull deep in her pussy and she crossed her ankles. She flexed and released her thighs, feeling her vagina warm up and her clit swell.

      Easing her hands downhill, she massaged and kneaded her fleshy belly along the trail towards paradise.

      Once she found her pubis bone, she pressed hard and elevated her hips to meet the pressure of her wet fingers.

      Selby imagined her pussy swelling with each pulse of blood racing to her tender clit. She could feel the erect nub aching to be touched and she was in no mood to deny her body.

      Eagerly she parted the thick lips of her slick vaginal rim as she allowed her thoughts to fantasize about a long, thick, wet tongue slipping into and spreading her smooth slit. 

      Selby released a loud moan.

      Frantically, she fingered Clitessa but it wasn't enough, as she felt her climax building. 

      With her free hand Selby reached out and smacked a familiar button on the side of the marbled spa tub and the jet streams burst forth. She scooted down and spread her thighs wide, past caring about her hair getting wet or water spilling forward as she lifted her wet feet outside the water to rest against the cool, hard sides of the bath.

      One hand held on to the inside railing to keep her face above the water while the other hand kept her encouraged pussy lips spread wide to allow the full stinging pulse of the water against her clitoris to push her towards the final surge into ecstasy

      Selby started shuddering, panting rapidly, and her full lips trembled as if seized by an Artic breeze. Her body began to quiver uncontrollably as a climax tore through her body. She felt like liquid fire as memories of a dream lover with dark locks of hair and pale green eyes flashed in her mind.

      Hot tears kissed the surface of Selby's face as the overwhelming sensation of emptiness flogged her heart. 

      God help me before I go completely crazy. Why don't you just let me die?

      She threw her hands over her mouth and released a muffled scream as she succumbed to her feelings of wretchedness.