TAMARA JACKSON-SMITH-That Bad Bitch

"And from everyone at Channel Seven News, goodnight and see you tomorrow. Love you."

"And we're out!"

Tamara let out a loud sigh. Sometimes it felt like she was a robot, just spitting out mumbo jumbo from the prompter and feeling less and less enthused about it. Don't get her wrong, she loved her job. She loved being the center of attention. She loved being adored by the hundreds of fans. Okay, thousands.

She earned it. She worked her ranks in a cut-throat industry. She did whatever it took to stay on top.

She snapped to her assistant.

"Tea!"

"Yes, Mrs. Jackson."

She loved being called that. No divorce decree was going to take away what was hers. Her husband may be gone, but being a part of the Jackson family got her places. She knew it was what helped her get to where she was in her career.

Her assistant, an intern eager to please her, sat her tea in front of her while another intern unmic'd her.

"Great show Mrs. Jackson"

"Of course. Did you research the Congressman Davison story I want to do?"

"Yes ma'am. I also contacted his office and even though he doesn't like the media, when I told him it was you, he jumped on it."

"Okay, deets?"

"Tomorrow, noon, lunch with him?"

"Lunch?"

"Working lunch he said."

"Humph."

After she was unmic'd she walked toward her dressing room with the intern following her.

"So this is not a formal interview? I don't bring my cameraman with me?"

"No. He specifically said just you, for lunch. Oh, and I have your background on him. Check your iPad."

"Oh, not now. I'll get to it later."

She sat in her make-up chair and the make-up artist removed the heavy make-up. She hated it. She felt she didn't need it. Her butterscotch skin was flawless and she could pass for thirty-three, not forty-three. Her gray eyes were from her white grandmother. She had long honey-colored hair that was naturally curly but worn straight. Yes, sometimes she even wore weaves, pieces, and wigs. And yes she was 5'10" and still wished she was taller that's why she wore heels to reach the Gods.

She finally was able to leave the studio close to midnight. She hated working late hours especially when she had three precious little girls at home that needed their mother.

They were growing up so fast. Right before her eyes and she hated missing a minute of it.

Her twins, Courtney and Cambrea were thirteen now and in eighth grade. She remembered how she thought she could not have kids. They had been trying since they got married. Eight years later, when she was thirty, she started fertility treatment. Within days she was pregnant.

Having twins was the cherry on top. Two in one. She loved her babies, but in her business, she worried about her size four-figure. It seemed like soon as she got back to her perfect size, she was pregnant again.

No drugs were needed, just a horny husband who could not get enough of her.

But she was happy with three.

Her baby Angel was ten now, almost eleven. She was just like her mommy, a diva. A showstopper. A head-turner. She was already singing in talent shows and winning awards. She wanted to do pageants but Tamara stalled on that. It was a hard industry, and she did not want that for her baby.

It was bad enough they had to watch their mother and father fight in the end. And then the nasty divorce and custody battle.

All because of that slutty whore.

Despite what Antonio said, she knew Sasha went after her husband. Women like that gave the rest of women a bad name.

How desperate could you be to go after a married man?

She knew the pickings were slim in Midtown, mostly white men, the rich ones anyway. Not that she wasn't down with the swirl, but there was something about a big, strong Black man. Just saying. She would rather do bad by herself than stoop so low as to chase an unavailable man.

When she made it to the house she and Antonio built, she remembered all the good times. Him coming into his own at his father's company. Combined they were the power couple. Every rich, elite, semi-celebrity, and anyone in the know wanted to be their friend. They sucked up to them to get invited to their annual galas. They bribed and stole to attend their holiday functions. They even sent rich, extravagant gifts to get them to come to all their events.

Just by having Tamara Smith-Jackson and Antonio Jackson attend their event, it became the place to be seen.

As soon as the divorce was final, there were fewer and fewer invites her way. All the rich and famous she had gotten to know avoided her. She was still Tamara Smith-Jackson and she was not giving up the good fight. She had plenty in store for them.

After checking on her girls and kissing them on the cheek, she went into her office and powered up her laptop.

Midtown Famous Families Tell-All

Chapter One

ETHAN VAN RUSSELL-Enough's Enough

Why did women become so clingy?

He never wanted to get married again but Anita hounded him about taking their relationship to "the next level."

What fucking level? Out the door? That's just where he wanted to put her but he was not done with her yet. Not yet. He needed her exactly where she was, gathering info.

Luckily, when he was tired of Anita nagging him, he had his second spot to crash. Simona, his half-Chinese, half-Black femme fatale. She looked exotic, unable to tell what her ethnicity was. She acted very "sista girl" but when it came to sex games she was very obedient. And she had mad skills for only being twenty-five.

Simona let him have threesomes with her girlfriend. She let him break out the whipped cream and chocolate sauce, even tie her up. She liked to fuck him outside on the balcony. She even came to his office and gave him head under his desk while his brother droned on and on sitting in front of him.

And she never once wanted anything more. Long as he paid her bills in the large two-bedroom condo and kept her car running. What more could she ask for?

She was his away from it all spot. No kids, no brother, no work, no nagging.

He lay in bed getting massaged from head to toe by Simona. She was a masseuse when he met her. After fucking her the whole hour of his session, she became his personal masseuse.

She turned him over on his back to get to the best part of the massage when his phone rang.

"You're going to get that?"

"Keep doing that, this will only take a sec."

He grabbed his phone, never taking his eyes off Simona, and her soft hands kneading down his chest. She had long dark black hair that hung down to her waist. She was naked and her hair fell over her shoulder covering her smallish breast. He brushed the hair away with his free hand and massaged her breast.

"What?" he barked into the phone.

"Ethan, where are you?" It was Anita.

Ethan held back a moan as Simona's hands played with the sandy hair around his lower stomach.

"Not tonight."

"You said we could go out and--"

"Not tonight. I have work."

Simona's hands went lower.

"I have more info for you. About my boss."

Ethan's ears perked.

"What do you have?"

"I can't tell you over the phone. I need to see you tonight."

"Can't."

Ethan's eyes rolled back in his head as he felt hands close around his length. This was the best damn massage. She could stroke him with her hands and he would cum like a geyser.

"Are you with someone else? I know you are, I'm not going to stand by-"

"Calm down, calm down, I'm..."

He stopped as Simona's hands tightened around him, still stroking him. He was about to erupt.

"Uh, look, I have to go. I'll stop by tomorrow."

He hung up, cut the ringer off, and tossed his phone as he erupted.

"First one is always so quick."

"You know I can't help it when you do that shit."

"I'll fix this."

She put his limp dick in her mouth and like magic, he grew again and his head was in her throat, her tonsils massaging it.

"Stop," he cried out like a wimp. She had voodoo magic over him or something and he didn't want to cum so quick again.

She slowly slid him out of her mouth.

He grabbed her by the waist, threw her face down on the bed, and kneeled behind her. He slammed his dick into her soft insides. He liked being in total control. He liked having his way.

In the bed as well as business.

He looked down at her, watching his swollen pink dick enter her wet ass pussy. He closed his eyes. Imagining it was someone else.

Hey readers!
What do you think about Tamara's tell-all book? I'm here for it!

How many secrets does this little town of Midtown have anyway?

Ethan alone? Oh, so many! And Simona? She will become a character in the future for sure.

XOXO
Kimberly