He looks me in my eyes and smiles. “I really had a great time with you tonight. As a matter of fact, I have been thinking about you ever since I met you. When I walked in your office I couldn’t contain my excitement. I have never met such a beautiful, smart, and powerful man who turns me on. I have prayed for a man like you.”
I turn my head away. I don’t want him to know that I have been thinking the same thing about him.
I, too, have prayed for someone like him.
He reaches for my face and gently turns it back toward him.
My heart is pounding.
My fingers begin to tremble.
I want to take my hand away.
We are in public.
People can see us, but I am enjoying holding his large dark hands.
“Quincy, I am your boss.”
“I know. But I am very attracted to you.”
“I am also much older than you. I am thirty-eight.”
“I don’t mind.”
“But I do. This is flattering and you are definitely a handsome young man. But we have to maintain a professional relationship.” I reluctantly pull my hand away from him.
“Chase, all I want is to…” And Quincy leans forward and kisses me. My eyes grow wide. My heart is trying to escape my chest. Then I feel his soft succulent lips. They make me quiver. I try to pull away but Quincy pushes forward and will not release me. I stop resisting and allow myself to be free. I suck his lips and tongue.
When he pulls away from me I find myself still wanting more of him.
“I have been wanting to do that for a long time.” He kisses my hand.
“Quincy, we really have to be careful. This can get tricky.”
“Anything you want, I want.”
I smile at him. “Yes, that sounds great, but you are leaving at the end of the summer.”
“But I am coming back home after I graduate. I can see myself with you.”
“You are going a little too fast.” I pat his hands.
“You know, I told my good friend E. Lynn Harris about you.”
“Oh really,” I say, shocked. I am surprised he has been discussing me. “I didn’t know you knew E. Lynn. I am a big fan of his works.”
“I am too. I’ve read every book.” Quincy’s eyes light up. “I met him in Los Angeles while he was promoting his book I Say a Little Prayer.” He starts laughing. “You should have seen me. Here I am, this huge tall black dude trying to be inconspicuous in Eso Won Bookstore. The place is barely as big as this restaurant and it was packed with women. I think I was one of three black dudes in there. I was ducking and dodging trying to hide in between the bookshelves.”
I let out a big snorting laugh. “I can see you now trying to hide.”
“It was hysterical.” Quincy laughs. “After the signing I had to wait almost two hours because every woman wanted to have their books signed and talk personally with E. Lynn. I just kept picking up various books pretending like I was there for some other reason. When the crowd finally left I eased over to E. Lynn and told him I loved his books.
“He told me, ‘Thank you.’ I couldn’t believe I was there talking with the man that helped me to discover who I was sexually. I told him I had to meet him. ‘I struggled for a long time with who I am and after reading Invisible Life it literally spoke to me. I felt as if there was someone else out there who understood what I was dealing with,’ I told E. Lynn.
“‘I am honored and humbled,’ E. Lynn said. ‘Do you play basketball?’ he asked.
“‘Yeah, I play for Stanford.’
“He was like, ‘You’re Quincy Thornberry.’ I was shocked he knew who I was. I mean, he knew my name. Then E. Lynn told me he was a huge college sports fan and followed every team and its players. He even quoted my stats. I was very impressed. I couldn’t believe he knew as much as he did about sports, especially me. Man, E. Lynn was so cool.
“He asked if I was busy that evening and if I would like to join him for dinner. I was blown away. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. I was like, ‘Hell yeah, I can join you for dinner.’ We talked for nearly six hours that evening. He was so nice and so open. He didn’t have to go out of his way and talk with me. I know how celebrities can be, but he was the complete opposite. Ever since that day we have been friends. E. Lynn gave me his personal numbers and e-mail and told me, ‘Don’t be afraid to reach out. I know what you’re going through.’ We speak at least twice a week on the phone, and once a week via e-mail. E. Lynn has become someone I can talk with and he understands me.”
“Wow!” I say. “It’s really nice to have someone like that to support and encourage you. True friends are hard to find.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Quincy grabs my hand. “I told him how I felt about you and how impressed I was to see a black man in charge, one who is smart and rose to the top of a major company.”
“Why, thank you, Quincy.” I stare into his eyes taking all of him in. My mind is telling me to think rationally, but my body is screaming for sexual attention.
He grins at me.
I take a sip of my coffee.
I am trying to contain my enthusiasm.
My insides are fluttering.
I feel like a college boy.
I shouldn’t be doing this.
I can’t do this.
I must end this.
I will not let it go any further.
I can’t.
Why not?
It’s wrong.
Why?
I hate Ashley.
“Let’s get out of here,” Quincy says. He lays a ten-dollar bill on the table and slides his hand into mine. I stand and he leads me out of the door.
He steps into the street and hails a taxi. Quincy opens the door and I step inside. He climbs in next to me.
“One-hundred Thirty-ninth Street and Adam Clayton Powell.” I give the driver my home address.
Maybe I can do this. It’s just for the summer. I won’t get caught up.
Chapter Fourteen
From the moment we walk into my condo Quincy pins me against the front door, kissing me from the top of my head to my neck.
His lips land delicately perfect.
Gentle.
We begin tearing off each other’s clothes.
Shirts.
Pants.
Underwear.
Revealing our naked bodies.
Quincy’s dark chocolate body is flawless.
Beautiful.
Absolute perfection.
All six-foot four-inches of him is made of muscles.
They are in places I didn’t even know existed.
His muscles are huge, even the one standing long and strong between his legs. His large black massive dick pierces the air. The entire mass of erect hardness has one thick long vein protruding along it.
I approach him wanting to savor his scent.
I nuzzle my nose into his neck.
Inhaling.
His chest.
Inhaling.
His stomach.
Inhaling.
His back.
It’s intoxicating.
His smooth black skin smells like rich cocoa butter.
Homemade from the roots of the earth.
Pure ingredients.
Natural.
We embrace. Holding each other. Refusing to let go.
We’ve been waiting for this moment.
This time.
He gently places his mouth on mines.
His kisses send chills through my body.
He then nibbles on my neck and ears.
Tongue flickering in a circular motion.
After circle.
After circle.
Slowly.
Slower.
He sucks on my earlobes and whispers all the things he wants to do to me. “I want to make love to every part of your body,” he says. “I want to suck your dick and taste your juices. I want to eat your ass. Then I want to put my entire dick inside you.”
He grabs my hand and leads me to the sofa. Quincy is taking control.
Commanding.
Dominating.
Powerfully.
And I let him.
He throws my legs over his shoulders and grabs my throbbing hard dick. He commences to whisper to it. Quincy speaks to the head.
Yes, he does.
In between each lick he talks to my throbbing erection like he owns it. “This is my dick,” he whispers. “I am going suck your dick and swallow your balls. I don’t want you to hold back. Let your juices flow. I want all them on my face. Then, I am going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.”
His head goes up.
Then down.
Then up.
Then down.
I push my entire dick in the back of his throat.
He slurps.
Then rotates his head around.
And around.
And around.
Oh my gosh!
I feel myself ready to cum.
He sucks and slurps faster.
Stronger.
I moan to the heavens. This man is my angel and he helps me to see the streets paved with gold. I see the pearly gates and know there is a God.
Before the juices can rush out of me he flips me over and grips my ass.
He smacks the hell out of it!
He gets down on his knees and puts his face in between my cheeks and takes a big whiff. And then he says, “I am going to stick my tongue deep inside you.”
I force my weak body off the sofa and run into the kitchen. I grab a can of whipped cream from the refrigerator and tell him to enjoy. He eats my ass for a good half hour and I love every minute of it.
Quincy’s tongue is magical.
He then sprays the whipped cream all over his black thick dick. I kneel before him and begin licking his dick head.
I slowly work my mouth around the girth of his pulsating erection.
With each suction Quincy moans and his body shakes.
He grabs the back of my head and helps to ease me further down the shaft of his throbbing dick.
“Oh, shit!” Quincy yells and doubles over.
He pulls away from me. “You’re trying to make me cum already? Not so fast.”
He lifts me toward him and kisses me deeply.
He lays me on the sofa and spreads my legs. He grabs one of the patterned throw pillows and puts it under my ass.
I am ready.
Willing.
And Lord knows needy.
It’s been a long time since a man has been inside me and I want Quincy to plow me.
Thrust himself inside me and never stop pounding.
That’s what I need.
“Where’s your condoms and lube?” he asks.
I point toward the bedroom. “Down the hall and to the left. The top drawer of the nightstand next to the bed.”
I watch Quincy’s naked body saunter out of the room.
Fat bubble ass.
Huge calf muscles.
Strong back.
DAMN!
DAMN!
DAMN!
His body is amazing.
Quincy returns with a smirk on his face.
Lube and condom in his right hand.
He rips open the gold magnum wrapper and eases the condom over his long dark dick.
He squeezes the bottle of lube and the clear liquid drips on the top of his fat erection. He strokes himself, smearing the lube over the shaft and the head.
He then lifts my legs and drips some of the cool lube on my ass. He takes his middle finger and slowly works the slippery gooey liquid in and out of me.
My head falls back and I close my eyes. I let out a low moan. I then gyrate my body, working in sync with his hand.
He pours a little more lube.
I am ready.
He leans in and kisses me.
Deeply.
Playing with my tongue.
Exploring my mouth.
He reaches down and slowly puts the tip of his dick head inside me.
I flinch.
He takes it out.
He slowly maneuvers the head inside me again.
I relax.
“You want more?” Quincy asks.
I nod my head.
He knows I am hungry.
I need to be fed.
Each time he inches a little more in and then pulls out.
“Please, Quincy,” I beg. “Baby, please.”
He grins at me. “That’s right, beg for this dick,” he demands. “This time when I put it in I want you to work your body with me.”
I do just what he commands.
I thrust.
Rotate.
Open my legs wider.
Quincy loves it.
He moves slow, then fast, and then slow again.
He rotates.
Dances.
And strokes his entire dick inside me.
My body starts to shake violently.
I moan loader.
Faster.
My breathing increases.
My chest is heaving up and down.
He muffles my screams with his juicy kisses.
“No more,” my voice trembles. “Oh, this is so good.”
“You like this?” He pumps faster.
“Yes…I…do,” I say breathlessly.
“You want me to stop?” He is going faster and faster. His breathing grows rapid.
“No, no, no, don’t stop,” I pant.
“Baby, you feel so good,” Quincy says. “Oh, baby, this is mines?”
“Yes, yes, yes!” I say.
“I can get it whenever I want?” I feel Quincy’s body jerking.
“Yes. Anytime.” I move my body in sync with his.
He pumps faster.
Deeper.
He moans loudly and throws his head back.
Pumping faster.
Faster.
Faster.
Then he releases his hot juices.
His sweaty body goes limp and he collapses on top of me. I kiss his neck and ears.
Quincy is breathing heavily. “That was good!” he says. I stroke his wet back and steamy head. “Now it’s your turn.” He grabs my dick and smiles at me.
Chapter Fifteen
My prayers have been answered. All of my dreams have become a reality.
There is a man in my life.
And his name is Quincy.
I am overjoyed.
Happy.
Loved.
I cannot believe it’s with a younger man.
I keep thinking I am going to wake up and realize it’s a dream.
This is one of our reality shows and the scripted plot is part of the grand scheme.
But it isn’t.
For the next month and a half I am with Quincy.
Every morning.
We wake up together. Our naked bodies entwined. Legs and arms entangled. Refusing to let go and be free. Our bodies warm and sticky from the love juices smeared on our chests, stomachs, and crotches from our night of passion.
In the afternoon.
We work silently and discreetly, not giving away our secret. We snatch glimpses of each other. Smiling. Winking. We both agree to maintain our professionalism. No time together, alone. Only if it’s an arranged meeting. No outside lunches together. No fraternizing. I am his boss. He is my intern.
Then at night.
We make dinner together. Chopping, cutting, searing, and plating. Eating from one plate, sharing our food cooked from our hands. Our love. We curl in one another’s arms on the sofa. Flipping through the channels. Caressing, stroking, and kissing. We fall asleep wrapped in our world.
When we are not together I find myself thinking of him constantly. Yearning for his deep voice. The gentleness of his strong arms. The greeting of his juicy lips.
Then we reunite later and laugh, smile, constantly grabbing hands, touching, and kissing.
&nb
sp; His affectionate manner is extremely comforting.
Endearing.
Longed.
On some weekends, when he is not playing basketball at the local courts, we explore the city, going everywhere from Central Park to SoHo to Harlem.
Every other weekend we take long romantic walks in Central Park. We start in the early afternoon, walking from One-hundred Tenth Street to the middle of the park. We stop at the summer stage. We take in the featured weekend concert, events like Dwele, Erykah Badu, Jill Scott, and Ledisi.
My type of music.
We dance and sing with the crowd.
Waving our hands in the air.
And Quincy drapes his long muscular arm over my shoulder.
I reach up and put mine around his.
We rock from side to side with Quincy pulling me close to him.
In the middle of the park among thousands of people I completely let go of my inhibitions. I feel a gravitational pull so strong I know it’s a love that binds me closer to Quincy.
After we explore mature grown-up music, Quincy drags me to Virgin Records in Times Square to share his version of lyrical geniuses.
Jeezy.
Lil Wayne.
Drake.
Gucci Mane.
Young Dro.
He even updates my iPod with these inspired great musical selections.
I put them on my iPod under the playlist—UHM, OKAY!
One Sunday we sat in the Studio Museum of Harlem for two hours just observing the paintings and sculptures. Whenever I ventured off to a different part of the museum admiring a piece of art Quincy would gently brush against me, or bump my shoulder then smile and wink at me.
After leaving the museum Quincy took me to Best Buy department store. He was trying to convince me to buy a Wii video game. “I don’t play games,” I said as he attempted to teach me how to play the basketball video game on display.
“Come on. Give it a try.” Quincy jumped, and moved his hands and arms quickly from left to right, then up and down with the game’s remote.
“You’re an expert at this.” I clumsily jerked and twisted from left to right.
“I have one at home and at school,” he said, maneuvering swiftly and precisely.
I couldn’t quite get the hang of it. My coordination was off. I was stumbling around the showroom making a fool of myself. I was moving my arms left instead of right to dribble and shoot. “I am too old for this,” I said, frustrated. I wanted to throw the remote control across the store.
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