by Mark Anthony
“Yeah, it is.”
Me and Meagan had been talking on the phone almost every day for the past two weeks, and she was really a cool person. We had agreed that I wouldn’t do the interview with her until after all of my legal issues were resolved, but yet that didn’t keep us from staying in touch.
Initially, I had the impression that she was the gold-digging type, but as I got to know her I realized that she wasn’t like that at all. She definitely liked high-end stuff and she made no excuses for that, but at the same time she worked her ass off and she was smart as hell, so it was like her hard work afforded her the best things in life. But what I really liked about her was that she wasn’t just after trying to juice some dude—in fact, she was the exact opposite. Her thing was she wouldn’t fuck with a nigga who didn’t have his own and who didn’t have his shit together simply because she was fearful of some dude trying to get to her heart simply so she could take care of his ass.
We had so much in common. We both shared the same zodiac sign. We both loved sports, especially basketball. We liked the same movies, the same food; it was almost scary how compatible we were.
“What?” Meagan asked when she caught me looking at her.
I smiled and shook my head and I told her that I was just staring at her because I couldn’t believe how beautiful she was.
“Lance, I see how you got yourself into so much trouble. You just naturally know how to charm women and it comes across so believable.”
“Believable? As in, I’m lying? Meagan, you know you look good, so knock it off.”
“I’m okay,” she said, trying to be modest.
“You know you’re more than just okay. I can prove it.”
“Prove it how?”
“By asking you a question, but you gotta be honest and don’t dance around the question.”
“Okay, shoot.”
“When you take a shower, or when you’re getting dressed or whatever, and you see yourself in the mirror. I’m talking about when you see yourself head-to-toe butterball naked, tell me yes or no, do you turn yourself on?”
“Lance!” Meagan said as she laughed and slapped me on my arm.
“See, you said you wouldn’t dance around the question.”
“Okay, okay, okay. See, when I see myself naked, yes, I like my body and I think I look good. I mean, I work out and I stay in shape so—”
I cut her off. “Nah, that’s not what I asked you. I asked you do you turn yourself on when you see yourself naked.”
Meagan was smiling and blushing from embarrassment.
“All right, you win! Yes, I do get turned on sometimes when I look at my body.”
“See, case closed!”
“I am so embarrassed right now,” she said as she laughed. “Like, is that normal or is there something abnormal and sick about that?”
Meagan made it clear that she didn’t want me to get it twisted about the fact that she was not into women.
“I mean, I might like what I’m working with, but your girl is still strictly dickly!”
“Come here,” I said, smiling. I took Meagan by the hand and I guided her close to me and without asking I started to kiss her.
I could feel her resisting me and trying to pull away, but I wouldn’t let her move.
“No. Don’t fight me,” I whispered while my eyes were still closed and my lips were still close to hers.
“Lance, I can’t be kissing you. You’re still married.”
“Shhhhh,” I said real softly and directly into Meagan’s ear. I then kissed her on her earlobe and I worked my way down to her neck and I kissed her on her neck for about thirty seconds or so before moving back to her lips.
Meagan stopped resisting me and she kissed me real passionate and deep, and I could tell that she didn’t want to stop, as we kissed for about two minutes straight.
When we stopped kissing, she looked at me and smiled and then bowed her head and backed away from me.
“You are trouble, Lance. Trouble.”
I didn’t say anything because I knew that I didn’t have to say anything. Meagan was feeling me and I knew it.
It was just starting to get dark, and the crab legs that I had steamed were ready so I asked Meagan if she was ready to eat.
“Ehhh, yeah, I think that’s a good idea,” she playfully said.
Before long we were both laughing at the fact that I had no kitchen table and no chairs for us to sit on.
“Do you even have a couch, a chair, a La-Z-Boy? Something?” Meagan asked.
“Nah, but wait, just chill, I got this,” I said and I went to my room, took the bedsheets off of it along with the pillows and I came back to my living room and I told her that we could just put that on the floor and eat Indian-style.
“You know what?” Meagan asked rhetorically as she laughed.
“It’ll be cool,” I said and I began placing the sheets on the floor.
Meagan took her shoes off and reminded me that she was used to eating at high-end places like Mr. Chow or Nobu.
“This is gonna be better than all of that,” I said. I went to the kitchen and got the crab legs and two plates and took that to the livingroom and then I went back and got a bottle of wine and two wineglasses.
“So this is it? Just crab legs?”
“Yeah, that’s all I made.”
“What happened to the corn, the broccoli, the baked potato?” Meagan said in a jokingly sarcastic way. “But you know, I ain’t even mad at you. This is gonna be fun. Even though crab legs is soooo not the thing you eat on a first date.”
Meagan was right, crab legs was a messy thing to eat, so therefore it wasn’t the most romantic thing to eat.
“Oh, so this is a date, then?” I asked.
“You better leave me alone,” she said as she got up and went to the kitchen. “Please tell me you at least have some butter in your refrigerator.”
I at least had butter, and so Meagan melted some butter so that we could dip the crabmeat into it.
“How you gonna eat crab legs without butter ?” she asked as she shook her head.
It took us about twenty minutes to eat the crab legs and Meagan helped me clear the dishes and then we started watching a movie while we drank the wine and ate the red velvet cake that she had brought.
“I’m happy I came over to see you.”
“I’m happy you came over too,” I said as we lay next to each other on top of the blankets. The room was dark, other than the light that the flat-screen television produced.
I started kissing Meagan again and this time she kissed me back with no hesitation. I moved my hand to her ass and felt on it to see what she would do, and she didn’t take offense. She was wearing a blouse and a skirt so I decided to slide my hand up her skirt and soon I was feeling her bare ass.
“I love the way you kiss me,” she said through a partial moan.
I rolled onto my back and I pulled her on top of me and continued to kiss her as I slid her skirt all the way up and squeezed both of her butt cheeks as hard as I could with my hands. I could tell that Meagan was getting more and more turned on because she kissed me more and more passionately.
Before she could change her mind, I stood up and picked her up in the process and then I slowly put her back down on the floor while managing to undo her skirt, which made it easier for me to slide it off.
“You make me sick! You do know that, right?” Meagan asked.
“I’ll make up for it. I promise,” I said as I slid off her purple thong and buried my head between her legs and started eating her pussy.
If there was one thing that marriage had taught me, it definitely had taught me how to eat the lining out of a pussy and drive a chick insane.
Eating Meagan out was so easy to do simply because she had the biggest clit and the fattest pussy that I had ever seen in my life.
“Your pussy is turning me on,” I said as I came up for air.
“You like it?” she asked through heavy breathing.
In minutes Meagan was cumming and I was feeling so good. I had seen her sexy ass on television for years, long before I had even thought about writing books, and now here I was eating her out and making her cum and about to fuck her.
“I wantchu,” she said to me after she had regained her composure from nutting.
I stood up and I took my clothes off and I was surprised that my dick wasn’t already rock-ass hard.
“I don’t have a condom.” I said to Meagan.
Meagan looked at me and she started to unbutton her top.
“It’s okay. I just wanna feel your dick inside of me.”
I couldn’t believe her response, but I was having my doubts. That was until I looked down at her body and all logic and reasoning went out the window. If she was willing to fuck me raw, there was no way I was gonna pass that shit up.
Meagan was on the floor sitting up while I was standing up so my dick was parallel to her face. And since I wasn’t hard yet I wanted her to suck my dick until I was rock hard. So without asking I moved in and held my dick right to her face, assuming that she was just gonna automatically start sucking it.
“Eh-uhm. I’m sorry, baby, but I just don’t do that,” she said to me.
“You don’t suck dick?” I asked, real surprised.
She shook her head and said no.
Then she stood up and started kissing on my chest and my neck while she stroked my dick until it was hard. Once it was hard, I guided her back to the floor and I was gonna fuck her missionary style. But from the ten seconds that it took for her to lay down and spread her legs, my dick went soft.
“What the fuck is going on?” I said to myself.
“You okay?” Meagan asked.
“Yeah, I’m good,” I said even though on the inside I was panicking like a motherfucker because never before in my thirty-four years had my dick failed me. It had always been standing at attention and ready for war. But at that moment my dick was not cooperating at all.
So I started eating Meagan out again and her pussy was dripping wet and she was still responding good to my tongue. Just hearing her moan was enough to turn me on again and in seconds my dick was good and ready to go.
“Stand up, let’s do this doggystyle,” I instructed.
“I wanna feel that shit,” Meagan said as she stood up.
Just that quick I could feel my shit getting soft again. So I was really in freaked-out panic mode. I grabbed the shaft of my dick and was squeezing on it to try to keep it hard while I tried to slip it into her pussy, but shit just wasn’t happening.
“Baby, you sure you okay?” Meagan asked me. “You can run and get a condom if you want to, it’s just that I’m allergic to latex,” she said, assuming that the reason my dick wasn’t getting hard was because of the lack of a condom.
I knew that if anything, a condom was really gonna make my shit go soft because I always felt less with a condom. But at the same time I knew that I had to do some serious damage control and I had to do it fast. I was racking my brain trying my hardest to figure out what to say or do.
“Meagan, you know what? I’m sorry. It’s not the condom thing and it’s definitely not you. It’s just that my mind is in another place. Earlier today me and Nicole—”
She cut me off because once I brought up my wife’s name she knew exactly where I was going.
“Lance, it’s fine. Don’t worry. Really, it’s fine. I totally understand. We don’t have to do anything. We can just chill and finish the movie,” she said.
I visibly blew air from my lungs and I had never been so mad with myself, or felt so embarrassed and humbled and disappointed, all at the same time, as I did at that moment.
Meagan started to get dressed and while she did I ran both of my hands slowly down my face.
“You probably would have killed me with that thing,” Meagan joked as she yanked on my dick.
I looked at her and she smiled.
I couldn’t tell if she had said that to try and boost my ego or if she had really bought my line of crap about my mind being on my wife. All I knew was that I wanted to find the nearest hole in the ground and stick my head in there so that I wouldn’t have to face the moment that was at hand.
“A man’s dick can’t do what his mind ain’t into,” she said as she stood on her tippy-toes and kissed me on the cheek.
I nodded my head and hugged her, and all I could think about was how fucking lame I must have looked at that moment. But it was what it was. All I knew was that I had to go to the doctor ASAP because there was no way in hell that I was gonna go through that shit again with my dick not cooperating.
Chapter Fourteen
It was now the first week in June. Two weeks had passed since my non-performance incident with Meagan, and what was wild was that since that incident she had started calling me more than ever, just as Steve had predicted she would do.
Steve laughed his ass off at me when I told him what had went down between me and Meagan. But he reassured me that I just had a case of whiskey dick.
“That shit happens to the best of us. But I guarantee you that Meagan is gonna be calling your ass much more now that that shit happened on her watch.”
I looked at Steve kinda confused.
“See, you gotta understand that her head is gonna be fucked-up. You walking around mad as hell at yourself because homeboy wouldn’t work when you needed him to. But Meagan is walking around, feeling mad, inadequate, right now. She’s feeling like she wasn’t hot enough, she doesn’t turn you on, her pussy is whack, all of that shit is running through her head. So until you fuck the hell out of her, she is gonna be calling you just to reassure herself that you’re not completely done with her.”
I didn’t think Steve was right at the time, but when Meagan started to call excessively and kept wanting us to go out and asking if she could come over again, I knew that Steve had hit the nail on the head.
I would speak to Meagan on the phone at length, but not once did she bring up my whiskey dick. But I made sure to duck her and make excuses each time she tried to hook up with me. I ducked her for two reasons. One reason was because—regardless of what Steve had been saying—I still wanted to speak to my doctor so I could know for sure what the deal was with me and my limp-dick syndrome. And the other reason that I had been ducking Meagan was because my lawyer had informed me that it was looking highly likely that we were going to be able to work out a favorable plea deal. I had been praying for a good outcome and I didn’t want to jinx myself by messing with Meagan.
It was funny how with me it always took some kind of tragic shit to get me to focus on doing what was right. But I had begun to pray like I had never prayed before. I prayed about five times a day for God’s mercy concerning my case, and it was looking a lot like my prayers were gonna be answered.
On June Eighteenth, almost six months to the day since I had the accident, my lawyer called me and told me to come into his office as soon as I could. When I hung up the phone with him, my heart was beating a mile a minute because I didn’t know if he had good news for me or bad news. So without hesitation and without calling him back and asking him why he wanted me to come in, I had Steve come scoop me up and take me over to see him.
“Mr. Thomas,” my lawyer said with a smile on his face when I walked into his office.
“All I wanna hear is good news,” I responded.
“I learned from day one on this job that you always deliver good news in person and bad news over the phone. It usually works out better that way.”
I nodded my head and chuckled at my lawyer but I was ready for him to cut the small talk and get right to the matter at hand.
“So it looks like we had an ace in the hole that’ll keep you outta jail.”
Immediately a smile came across my face and I instantly felt some relief sweeping through my body.
“Really? So what was the ace in the hole?”
> “Olivia Rodriguez’s family,” my attorney said as he got up from the conference table.
“Apparently, Olivia’s family is extremely religious and they came to the conclusion that this entire ordeal was God’s will. They felt to recommend jail time for you would be undue justice and it would show vindictiveness on their part.”
When I heard those words, I almost fell off of my chair.
“Are you serious?”
My attorney nodded his head.
“Well, what about the other family?”
“They have the complete opposite disposition of the other family. They want jail time for you.”
“Really? But I mean—I thought he had recovered and was doing much better,” I said. I didn’t know how to feel. I just couldn’t understand how the family who had lost their family member could recommend no jail time, and the family with the survivor of the accident could want to go so hard.
“That’s definitely working in our favor, but I can tell you this—and this is part of the reason why I asked you to come in—I can tell you that the only way that they’re gonna be willing to bend is based on dollars.”
“What do you mean?”
“Lance, this is gonna come down to money. The family is being advised by an attorney and I’m sure this is a tactic for them to be able to up the ante.”
I was confused because I wasn’t sure what my attorney was getting at.
“Your car insurance policy is gonna pay out the max that they can pay out based on the limits of your policy. So after paying for Mr. Anderson’s medical bills, the insurance company will have about a half a million dollars to split between the two families. And although two-hundred-fifty thousand dollars is a lot of money, how things are gonna be viewed by Mr. Anderson’s family is that with no jail time, there really is no form of punishment that would cause the prevention of such accidents in the future. And therefore they’ll want you to pay a staggering amount of money that will serve as a form of punishment for you.”
“Basically, you mean punitive damages?”
My attorney nodded.
“So when you say a staggering amount, what does that mean in terms of real money?”
“Well, to put it in everyday language, it’s gonna be an amount that breaks you.”