“Baby you feel so damn good.” Lathan bent down and kissed her full on her lips.
Denver responded, “I love you, Lathan. I love you so much.”
He didn’t respond. Grabbing his waist and holding him tightly she thrust her pelvis into him so she could feel the fullness of his penis. When she did this, he pumped harder. Finally, she screamed as her body went into multiple orgasms. He responded by releasing his semen into her. In the end, they both lay there, shaking. Their lovemaking was so powerful and all too consuming. Lathan was tired, so he fell asleep while Denver lay there thinking.
He didn’t say he loved me back. He has never said that to me. She realized that he was just getting him a booty call. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, because she really did love him. She would try harder to make him love her back. She would take the pressure off him and just let him seek her out. She would stop paging him and begging him to come over as she had done so many times before. But first, she wanted him inside her again. She tried to wake him by nibbling on his ears. Then she played gently with his nipples. She pulled at his penis. He didn’t budge. Frustrated, she finally turned over and went to sleep.
That morning when Lathan awoke, he looked at Denver. She was gorgeous. Her petite body looked about a size six or eight to him. She reminded him of his wife when they first met each other. As a matter of fact, that is what attracted him to Denver. She looked and acted so much like his wife, it was as if he was dating her all over again. Seeing her was simply an act of trying to recapture what he had with his own wife before the kids and everything else that goes with getting old. He could remember how he once loved his wife and would never ever have considered leaving her, not even for this young “thang” lying beautifully next to him. But life had a way of changing you, even when you didn’t want to change. It was just plain good sex.
Denver was not the first woman he had slept with while married. It was all about sex and meeting that physical need. Not one woman he had touched could make him feel what he felt for his wife. She was the love of his life. Unfortunately, no one ever told him that after being married so long, the body would not become as stimulated to have sex as it did when he was younger. No one said that he would need new meat to get a hard on. So now, sex was all about releasing that tension and pressure and feeling the warmth that surrounded his penis.
He loved his wife because she was his first love, and when he really thought about her and what they had once had, his heart ached with emotion. Sexually, she would never do in bed to him what these young tricks would do. So now, he just took all the loving he could stand. Feeling sexually free, he was content that he could have a piece of ass and go back home without the fuss and stuff. Nothing more, nothing to look forward to in the future—just the here and now, and then he would go back home.
His love thought he was on a business trip, and here he was with a young woman who was just four years older than his own daughter. It wouldn’t be long before he stopped seeing Denver. She meant nothing to him, and after a while, sex was nothing unless you loved the woman you were with. But right now, he just wanted another piece of this beautiful supple body that was snuggling so close to him. He gently kissed her lips and she responded.
Chapter 17
Patches was sleeping with more than seven women. He couldn’t help himself, because he genuinely loved women. They could be tall, dark, short, brown-skinned, light or redbone, skinny, on the heavy side, a project chick, or a professional. Each of them brought something new and different to his bed, and he loved it. What he found so fascinating was how easy they all were. They were so hungry and starved for affection. They would take anything from a man just to have a warm body to cuddle with. He didn’t want to hurt women, but if he could have them sexually when he wanted them, he would be less than a man to turn them down.
Almost every night of the week, he was with a different woman. They had to be really great and daring in bed before he would see them again in the same month. He had mentioned to several of his co-workers and to Jerickca that he was oversexed. As a matter of fact, once when they were in the backroom discussing sex, Jerickca told him that he might have a white liver. She said that her mother had told her that men who couldn’t get enough sex and wanted it every day had that disorder. Lula Mae said that in the south it was said that men who had sex more than once a day were oversexed or that they had white liver. It was considered a disorder that needed professional treatment. Women with this problem were nymphomaniacs. Jerickca said he should see a counselor, because he had once confided in her about sometimes feeling overwhelmed, trying to keep up with all the women he was sleeping with. But why should he go see a counselor when he was so happy?
What was even more amazing was the fact that these women would take anything he did to them sexually. He always did the best he could to please them in bed, because that way it was always easy to go back. But it was getting more and more difficult to keep the two ladies apart that he was seeing at work. Besides, he felt that Precious was running her damn mouth about them, and if that was true, he would make sure she wouldn’t get another piece of his shit—something he damn well knew that she would regret.
Tonight, he and his boy, Drew, were going to hit Club Brioni, which was usually packed wall-to-wall with loved-starved women. He knew he could expect to hit on a cute honey and get his dick sucked. Grabbing his keys, he walked out the door to meet Drew at the club.
While he was sitting at the bar, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He slowly turned around and was shocked to see Toi Sanders, a young, fine honey that he slept with at least twice a month.
“What’s up Toi?”
“Nothing much. I’m surprised to see you here. Why didn’t you call me to tell me you were coming, because we could have saved gas and rode together?” she asked as if she was his woman.
“Me and my boy Drew decided to come out tonight—boys’ night out.”
Patches was pissed off to the highest level of pistation. He knew that pistation wasn’t a word, but for the moment, it was the only way that could express how angry he really was. He didn’t appreciate a woman approaching him, telling him what to do. Now he would have to take her home with him. He thought, Women think they’re running things, trying to act as though they could control him. What this woman didn’t know was that he was controlling her.
Toi grabbed a bar stool and pulled it close to Patches. They were talking and laughing when this ghetto fabulous girl walked up. Toi looked at the woman and immediately rolled her eyes at her, asking Patches, “Who is this bitch?” Patches ignored her.
“What’s up Patches?” the woman asked. She moved less than two inches from his face, and then she whispered in his ear, “I know you ain’t up in here with no other woman, are you?”
Patches couldn’t believe his damn luck. He ran the show and no woman, no matter who she was, would ever confront him anywhere. Who the hell do they think they are, anyway? Tammy Winters was definitely a project girl. He had met her in this motorcycle club in East St. Louis, and when he wanted rough and tough sex, she was the person he called. Plus she was always trying to give him her public aid check. He never took her money, because she had two kids but he didn’t mind taking her body. Those project girls knew how to turn a man on. Patches pulled up a stool that had suddenly became vacant and told Tammy to sit her ass down.
“Let’s get something straight,” he said as he pulled Toi’s barstool close so that she could hear the conversation. “Don’t ever confront me like that again. Didn’t I tell both of you that I was dating because I ain’t married to no one yet?”
Toi was the first to speak. “I didn’t say anything, did I?”
“No you didn’t, but I know you wanted to.”
“Who is this bitch?” Tammy said trying to get loud.
“Tammy, if you are going to act a fool, you can step now. Or we can sit here like people with sense and come up with a workable plan,” Patches said while totally mesmerizing both of the wome
n.
“I don’t want to lose you to her,” Toi said.
Patches let out his breath as if he was agitated. “How we gone work this out? I have a plan. Toi, on Tuesdays I will see you, and on Wednesdays I’ll see you, Tammy.”
“I don’t want no damn Wednesday,” said Tammy.
“Take it or leave it,” Patches said with his chest sticking straight out.
“All right, then,” she said. She stood there looking strange and asked, “Are you taking her with you tonight?” Tammy was clearly getting on his last nerves.
“Don’t worry about who I’m taking. You worry about seeing me on Wednesday and that’s all I got to say.” With that, he got up from the bar and grabbed Drew. “Let’s roll up from here.”
Drew was shocked by what he had heard. “Man, I can’t believe them bitches let you get away with that shit man. What, you scheduling dates with them and they are letting you get away with that shit? I can’t believe that. You are a bad mother.”
“Man, I got it like that, but I gotta admit, I didn’t think that shit would work.”
Drew said women sure are desperate. They will let a brother do anything to them. They both left and went to Club Illusion, because that was how life was for Patches. He was definitely having illusions, and it felt good.
Chapter 18
Megan was tired after participating in so many program activities. It was frustrating for her, because she was the oldest of the staff and she wanted them to respect her. She did everything she could to make them do what she wanted. For instance, she made sure that each of them thought that she and the boss were tight as a lid on a sealed pickle jar. She would eavesdrop on Jerickca when she was having business meetings. She would stand outside the door and pretend that she was using the copier or the fax machine. It was so easy. She would stand as close to the door as possible and pretend that she was reading something that she needed to copy.
She would get an ear full as Jerickca discussed raises, transfers, promotions, or anything else with the Comptroller. She would schedule a meeting shortly after hearing Jerickca’s conversation and pretended to have a problem with a client. Once inside Jerickca’s office, she would make it appear that they were just cooling out to the observers. After the meeting, she would go to the backroom and proceed to tell everyone a secret.
“Hey everybody, I got something to tell you all, and don’t tell no one else,” Megan would say.
“What, girl?” asked Phoenix?
Megan leaned in and whispered, “Don’t say that I don’t support you all. Jerickca asked me about ya’ll’s performance because ya’ll know we cool, and I told her what ya’ll are doing in the field. She was so impressed that she told me she would be giving all of us a ten percent raise. Ya’ll know I really be trying hard to get us raises and promotions.”
Patches would then interject, “How’d you and her get so close?”
“Ya’ll know I just get along with everybody. I have so many friends, and people always tell me how smart and pretty I am. I just attract a lot of people around me because I have such a good personality. It’s been like this all my life,” she said with a serious look on her face.
“Thanks for looking out, girl,” Denver said, smiling.
“Yeah girl, you my dog,” chirped Phoenix.
Megan was always tricking people. She suffered from low self-esteem but didn’t seem to realize it. She spent most of her time talking about everybody’s business and gossiping. She thought she was smart and brilliant because she could make you believe that a cat could bark if you weren’t careful. Her greatest skill was manipulation, which she did all the time without anyone being suspicious.
What people didn’t notice, however, were her lonely eyes. If you looked really hard, you could see straight through her and tell that she was weak and lonely. Jerickca had already peeked her hole. She knew that Megan suffered from low self-esteem, and that was why she spent time with her whenever she interrupted her to talk. Jerickca did not believe in meeting with a subordinate without her immediate supervisor’s knowledge. She would often invite the supervisor in when she talked to her staff out of respect for management protocol, even when the talks were nothing but chatting. Since Jerickca had an open door policy, she allowed the staff to talk to her as long as it wasn’t about work that their supervisor needed to sit in on.
Megan spent most of her time in the evenings on the phone. She didn’t have a man but was fiercely pursuing Jeri Taylor, who was the City Manager. She would often call his secretary, whom she knew from high school, to find out what was going on in his office. She would ask questions about where he spent his leisure hours or where he went to cool out, and would make every effort to be at the same place he was.
It didn’t take long for her to get with him. He saw her at Club Illusion one Friday night and noticed how beautiful she was. She was thin the way he liked his women, and she had the most beautiful hazel eyes he had ever seen. He couldn’t stand it any longer and walked right up to her and asked for a dance.
“Dance with me,” he said.
Megan walked out to the dance floor and looked at her three co-workers to let them know that she always got what she wanted. While dancing with Jeri, they talked about everything from sports to work. They spent most of the night dancing and talking. Megan had a great time, and she couldn’t wait to get with him.
It had been almost two weeks since Megan had seen Jeri. He did not call her, though he had said he would, and this was a big disappointment for her. She had made sure he had her home, work, and pager number. She had even given him her cell number to make sure that she could be reached. She couldn’t understand why he hadn’t called. Surely, there was no one prettier than she was. She saw the way that he looked into her eyes and how he almost forgot where he was while they were slow dancing. He had even kissed her neck. So why hadn’t he called?
Megan had to get in touch with him. All her coworkers were asking if they had gone out, and she was so tired of making up excuses for Jeri. Every time she walked into the backroom and there was a gathering, his name would come up. This time she would give them something to talk about. When she walked into her office Monday morning, the conversation had already started about men.
“How was your weekend, Megan?” Phoenix asked.
“I didn’t do much. Just stayed home and rested,” Megan said, agitated.
“Don’t tell me that you didn’t get with Jeri,” Phoenix said, leaning forward as if she was about to hear some juicy information.
“Tell us the gossip,” asked Denver. “What happened between you two?”
“I don’t have any info this time. Jeri said that he had to go out of town on a business trip. But he did call me and said that he couldn’t wait to get with me, so we are planning to have a good time when he comes back from Chicago,” Megan said while unpacking her briefcase. She then asked them, “What did you guys do this past weekend?”
“Girl, we went clubbing in St. Louis,” Phoenix responded.
Suddenly the intercom system buzzed and the receptionist informed Megan that she had a call. When Megan picked up the phone, as always, she spoke loud enough for everyone to hear her conversation with her client, Bertha Macklin.
“Why did it take you so long to return my phone call? I don’t have time to play with you. Either you will take the job or I am going to report you to the Department of Human Service, and you know they are going to sanction you. Don’t you know what that means, young lady? It means you and your children will have nothing to eat and no money to pay bills, because they are going to stop your financial assistance.”
Bertha was very agitated and became furious at the way Megan was talking to her. She said, “You don’t have to holler at me. I don’t have a hearing problem. I want to speak to your supervisor.”
“Fine you can talk to her, and she will tell you the same thing. We are sick and tired of you welfare recipients living off our taxes. You need to get a job. Then you won’t have to worry about
how I’m talking to you.” Megan said loud enough for the other social workers to hear.
“Hey ya’ll, that whore hung up on me,” Megan stated as if she was surprised.
Everyone in the room was looking at Megan as if she had lost her mind. Finally, Patches said very courageously, “You shouldn’t talk to the clients like that. It’s disrespectful. If they report it, you could lose your job. You’re asking for it Megan. You need to be careful. You need to stop disrespecting these clients.”
“Boy, fuck you,” Megan said. “Jerickca is my dog. She ain’t gone believe no unemployed drug addict over me, and you best believe that!”
Phoenix and Denver just looked at each other in amazement, because they knew that if Jerickca heard the way that Megan was talking to that client, she would fire her. They didn’t care what she said. They knew Jerickca would never lose millions of dollars on something like disrespecting the very clients who needed us. Plus she really cared about the people in the program.
Megan thought about the way she had spoken to her client and knew that if Jerickca believed Bertha, she would be in deep trouble. She knew that her mouth usually got her in trouble, but sometimes, those people just made her so angry. They wouldn’t go to scheduled interviews, knowing that their assistance was short-term. They were messing up her statistics, because she always met her placement goals. Every week, Jerickca checked their client caseloads to see who was working and what progress was being made, either by clients going to school or doing something that would improve their lives, and Megan always had the best statistics. She just wasn’t going to play with people who didn’t want to do anything but make excuses. She went to work every day, and they could do the same if they had someone to push them. And that was all she was doing. She was motivating them to get a job. Sure, she threatened them, but those threats were what made the difference between failure and success. Everybody could just kiss her ass where it split, because she didn’t believe Jerickca would fire her best social worker.
Backroom Confessions Page 12