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Best Black Women's Erotica

Page 12

by Blanche Richardson


  Okay, I’m ready. Do I look all right? You don’t even have your coat on. You haven’t even moved…What? C’mon, what is it? You know something I don’t know, huh? Tell me. Go ahead. What’s up? I can see it in the way you’re not looking me in the eye—or the chest—anymore. It’s Jamal, huh? He’s not coming, is he? You know why, don’t you? Where is he? Is he with another woman? Shit! I knew it! I knew something was up. Truth be told? I’ve suspected for some time that he was cheating on me. Yeah, so? Maybe I like being in denial. It’s the truth that hurts. I got to sit down; move over.

  I am so…so…so fucking…pissed off! At Jamal, of course! Who the hell else! Doggin’ me out on my birthday. Now ain’t this just some shit! I got to take some deep breaths. Iyanla Vanzant says take deep breaths so you can be in tune with the universe; so you can open yourself up for the truth. I hate this shit! Why me? And on my birthday. Surely it must be somebody else’s turn by now. What am I doing wrong? I meet a nice guy like you, then turn around and go straight for the King of Bad Boy. I swear! I knew Jamal wasn’t right when I first laid eyes on him. But I pretended I couldn’t see; pretended I didn’t hear that little voice. No. I had to go and fall for the same okey doke. He’s no different than the last good-looking, sweet-talking asshole I thought I was in love with. I knew he was jive. Knew it! But I figured I’d be able to change him once he realized that I was the only woman for him. I figured I’d have it all, the best of both worlds. A good-looking, sweet-talking, and eventually—sensitive, responsible, monogamous man-for-life. You see? Thought I was gonna have my cake and eat it, too. He’d straighten up and see the light and we’d grow old and wealthy together. He’d treat me like the queen that I am. You’re right, I guess. I’m pissed off at myself for being so damn stupid! What the fuck was I thinking? I know better. Son of a bitch! Shit, how could he do this to me? I’m walking around on Fantasy Island with my head in the clouds and he’s standing at the dock, waiting for “de plane, de plane!”

  Well, go on. Say it. I know you think I’m a fool. Yeah, right. Sure you don’t. Is that why you came over? To see me make a fool out of myself? I hope you’re happy? But I don’t need a witness, thank you very much. Don’t! Don’t touch me! I don’t need your sympathy. Save it for yourself. Yeah, you’re damn right I’m pissed! He’s not worth it? Oh? Is that what you said when you found out Lynette dumped you? No? Then what did you do?

  You came over here? What in the hell for? What? You lying! She dumped you for Jamal? My Jamal? Oh this is too much for one little birthday girl to handle. So how do you know all this? You saw them? Where? You were at the club tonight? Well what were they doing? No they weren’t! Not in front of my friends! Not on my birthday! Now ain’t that a bitch.

  Let’s both take some deep breaths. I don’t believe this happening. Breathe in. Now hold it. Breathe out. I mean, what in the hell…breathe in. Hold it. Breathe out. We’ve both got dogged. Breathe in. Hold it. We’ve been had, we’ve been hoodwinked, we’ve been led astray. We’ve been clowned—big time! We’re losers, both of us. Oh, hell no, not tonight. Tonight, they’re the losers. Yeah, they’re the losers and we’re the winners. Screw their sorry asses. Oh! I’m sorry…breathe out! Whew! You were starting to turn blue.

  Well, that sure as hell blew my high. You know what we need? We need some weed. Me, either. I gave it up a long time ago, when people still rolled joints. But Jamal left half a blunt somewhere around here and I’m gonna smoke me some tonight. I don’t want to be this clear. Not tonight. You down? Now where did I see that thang? Yeah, here it is, behind the Bible—figures. You got a match? Look in the drawer in the coffee table. There we go.

  Mmm! This is some good shit. Here, you want some? Like learning to ride a bike, huh? You never forget how. ’Course, it looks like somebody forgot how to pass it! Thanks. I can feel it already. You? No, huh. Then what the hell are you laughing at? Yes, you are. Those dimples are a sure giveaway. You think this shit is funny, huh? Well I don’t get the joke. We’ve been dumped. Both of us. I don’t see anything funny about it. Stop it! It is not funny. You gon’ make me start laughing and I don’t wanna laugh. Stop. I’m tryin’ to be pissed off. Shit! Okay, it’s funny, but it’s not that funny. You’re doin’ too much…fallin’ all over…on the floor and shit. Whew! Shit, now I can’t stop laughing…this shit is funny. It’s actually pretty fucking hysterical! I mean…here I am talkin’ all this shit…oh, my sides are hurting…tellin’ you about checkin’ for signs…and he’s doggin’ me out. Don’t laugh with your silly self—he dogged you, too…That makes him a dog-ass mothafucka—with his crooked-ass teeth…you know it’s the truth…oh, my stomach…I can’t even talk. No, don’t! Don’t pull me. Stop, I’m falling! Ow! My butt! You could have caught me…Oh, stop. Please! Stop. I’m gonna pee on myself…I can’t get up…I can’t stop…laughing. Oh, God, please don’t let me pee on myself…I just cleaned this carpet. Oh…shit! Let me catch my breath. Whew! I haven’t laughed this hard since…since Jamal’s zipper got stuck! Came all over his self. I thought I was gonna die, I laughed so hard. What bright side? You see a bright side to this mess? Oh, now that is deep! He coulda been my baby daddy! You’re right. This coulda been a lot worse!

  Wait. Let’s lay down here on the floor for a minute. Relax a second. You know, you’d think we’d be consoling each other, not laughing like we just hit the lotto. Guess it’s the weed, huh? And why does Barry White sound better than he did a few minutes ago? I have to say something. I want to apologize. I’ve felt guilty ever since I dissed you for Jamal. I was wrong. I mean the way it went down wasn’t right. I’ve tried to rationalize it away, but I know I was wrong. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry if I hurt you. I didn’t mean to; I couldn’t help myself, I guess. And you stayed my friend. I’m grateful for that. I know you came over here tonight to keep me from going to the club and getting my feelings hurt. I truly appreciate that. I do. How can I make it up to you?

  You want to kiss and make up? You know what? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you from this angle before, like we’re lying in bed together. I love your dimples. How come I never noticed them before? You’ve got nice eyes, too. I always wanted thick long lashes like that. ’Preciate what’s been said, but mine are fake. I’m glad you like them, though. You know what else? I never told you this before, but that one time we did kiss? Well, I swear to God! I dreamed about your juicy lips and that killer tongue all night! Yes, I did. Oh, so you remember that kiss, too? Shut up! I know that one little kiss didn’t make you feel all that? Well, if you insist. I do pride myself on my kissin’ skills. I love to kiss. To me, it’s like the best part of foreplay, don’t you think?…well, here is that. Is that still lit? Let me get another hit before it goes out. I mean, when a guy touches my breasts—whew!…this is some strong stuff…sucks on my nipples…damn! No wonder I gave it up…well it’s like a direct hit to my stuff, you know? But it all starts with the kissing. I think the mouth is the most sensuous part of the body. Don’t you? I like big juicy lips like yours. And a thick tongue. A probing tongue. You know what? I have a philosophy. You want to hear it? Okay. This is it: as the tongue goes, so goes the dick. Deep, huh? No, well, yeah. The tongue and the dick can both go deep, but what I meant was that I was deep. You know, having a philosophy and all? Shut up! I’m watching those dimples; you’re laughing at me again. Anyway, I like to tease a little first, maybe wet my lips, like this, brush ’em over his lips; feel him out. Then, when I’m ready, I start exploring. I run my tongue all over his lips before I separate them and make contact with his tongue. Slow, you know. I like to take my time, sort of get to know his mouth before I see how far I want to go. Once I feel him get him all hot, I pull my tongue out. I kiss his forehead, his eyes, lick his lips before I go back in. I press my mouth onto his mouth and let my tongue tango with his until we’re both ready to move on. You know, his hand under my blouse, caressing my breasts. His lips lingering on my neck, then down to my nipples, kissing them through the fabric of my blouse. My fingers under his shirt, on hi
s nipples, easing down his chest to those wiry hairs right below his navel…Damn; I’m trippin’ hard!

  So what do you think happened? How’d I wind up with the doggee and you with the dogette? I’m much too fine and too intelligent to be in this situation. There must be some mistake. I don’t know what your problem is, but me…? Right. Okay. So you’re an alien. Uh huh. And you’re here on earth doing research? I can see that. So what kind of research are you doing? Maybe I can help you. A survey, huh. You have a questionnaire or something? Only one question? Let me have it. My most erotic experience? Hmm. I guess it would be when Jamal and me went to see this erotic foreign movie.

  I had to make him go with me. I was so tired of the movies he picked. We either saw flicks full of stupid toilet jokes or those macho action movies where everything blows up, or crashes, or explodes, or some shit. All the Black people die in the first three minutes unless, of course, they’re Wesley, Denzel, or Danny. Anyway, when we got back here I asked him if he wanted a beer—’cuz that’s all he drinks, you know. That’s why I have two cases in the hall closet and one in the fridge now. Anyway, I go, “Jamal, you want a beer?” and he goes, “how much beer do you have?” So, I go, “Baby, you know I’ve got all the beer you could ever want.” And he goes, “how ’bout pussy? You got all the pussy I’ll ever want?” And I go, “you know I do.” So he goes, “get in the shower.” I thought he meant we were going to take a bath together—you know what I’m sayin’. But he stopped me after I’d taken off my sweater and my slacks. “No,” he goes. “Leave your panties on. And your bra.” Then he walks out and I’m standing there shivering in the shower. Well, he comes back in with a case of beer! Can you believe that! Didn’t say nothin’, opens the first bottle and pours it over my head real slow. At first, I was trippin.’ Beer drippin’ all down my body. Foam settling in my hair, my eyelashes, making this fizzy sound, and running down over my shoulders. Jamal just stood there and watched. I was so cold; I had goose bumps all over. My nipples were already hard from the cold, but they got really hard from the warm foam. He told me not to move. Then he took off his clothes, except for his shorts. He gets in the shower and starts lickin’ the beer off my face. My neck. He opens up another bottle and pours it inside my bra. Then he squeezes my breasts, making the foamy beer seep over the top of the cups like waterfalls. And he catches the beer in his mouth. He took the next bottle and asked me if I wanted a drink. I go, “yeah,” and he goes, “sit down in the tub.” So I sit down and he gets down with me. So now we’re sitting face-to-face and he pours the beer inside his jockeys and tells me to suck the beer through the material. Then he pours a bottle into my panties and does the same to me. You know, I never liked beer. It always smelled stale to me. But now? I get hard looking at all those beer commercials during football games. Jamal and I have our own little halftime tradition now. Or we used to. I love your laugh. Makes me laugh, too. Give me another little hit. No. You inhale it then blow it in my mouth. That’s it, like two hits in one, huh?

  Guess what, ET? Your friend is getting really, really big. Look? Damn. That’s pretty amazing. Here, turn this way. No, over this way. See what I mean? Look at it. Wow. Does laughing do that to all aliens? ’Cuz I know some good jokes. I wanna touch it. I can? I just wanna run my fingers over it—like this. Does that feel good? Can you take these off? C’mon. You been talkin’ all that smack about my “magnets” and my red dress and my pretty legs. I want to see some of that alien stuff.

  Ooo! Now that is impressive. Pull it all the way out. No, here. Let me do it. Mmm, very nice. Let me feel it. I’m just gonna use one finger. Hold still. I’m gonna be gentle. Lay back. There. That’s it. Relax. I promise I won’t hurt you. Here, suck on this—just…one…finger…at…a…time. Go on, suck it good. I’m just gonna stroke it up and down and over this ridge here and…Hey! Did you see that? It jumped! It likes me! Let me try that again—under here…and up here…around the top.

  Guess what. I got a secret; I don’t have any panties on. What do you mean it’s not a secret? How did you know? Well what in the hell were you doing looking for a panty line? Freak! I knew there was something I liked about you. Why don’t I rub on this and you can do some research up under this red dress you like so much. Ooo! You’re quick. Went right to the gold! Slow your roll; let’s take this nice and easy. Yeah, that’s it. Much better. Nice. And easy. Hold on, I wanna taste it. Everything. I wanna taste all of you. And I want you to taste all of me.

  You’re hungry? I know, baby; I’m hungry for you, too. Fried chicken! You want fried chicken now? You mean now? Well, if that’s what you want. You’re going to have to let go of my breasts, unless you’re coming with me. Gimme a hand up. No, thank you, I can take care of the food, but you can get a sheet or a towel or something out of the linen closet so we don’t mess up my floor. There’s silverware, plates, and napkins already on the sideboard. And put on another CD, will you? I’m gonna get the grub.

  Help me! The chicken is sliding off the platter! You got it? Thanks. Yeah, put it down on the sheet. We got your potatoes…and butter beans…and…here, take the cornbread. Oops! I forgot the gravy. Hold up, be right back. Do not start without me.

  Here’s the gravy, and I found some cranberry sauce from Thanksgiving. Dang! I haven’t had the munchies like this in years! Where’s the silverware? I thought you were gon’ get the plates. All we have here are the napkins. I thought you were starving? How we gon’ eat without the plates? Oh, really. And why is that? Oh. So I’m gon’ be your plate and you’re gon’ be mine. Mmm hmm. I see. That how they do it where you come from? You know, if you don’t learn some earthly etiquette, someone’s gonna figure out that you’re not from aroun’ here, my brotha. But I do like the way you aliens eat. Help me pull this over my head. You want to put the mashed potatoes here…and here? Two scoops; you are hungry. You want gravy on that? I know the perfect spot to keep the buttered cornbread hot. Yes, that’s it. Right there. And the butter beans? Ooo, I like that…a trail up my thighs so you won’t get lost gettin’ to the cranberry sauce. Now I’m going to hold this juicy—well-seasoned, I might add—chicken thigh in my mouth; I want you to eat it down to the bone. And when your lips get to mine, I’ll show you how we earthlings do it.

  Then you can be my plate, okay? I just want gravy, lots of savory gravy. A little dab here…and here. I love earlobes. A drop in each dimple, in the hollow of your neck and, of course, across those pretty full lips. I wanna suck gravy off this six-pack and dribble it all the way down here. I’m gonna lick and suck gravy off every knuckle of every finger. Pour some on these tasty inner thighs, first this side…then this side. And then, a little over these luscious delicacies here and lick it all off—gently of course. By then the entrée should be good and hot. I might just pig out on the entrée, put the whole thing in my mouth at once.

  Yeah. I’m sure. Just gravy. ’Cuz. After we clean our plates, I want to have plenty of room for dessert.

  Lust at First Sight

  Private Joy

  That’s not a typo. I believe in love and all the promise that it brings, but, umm, this isn’t about me falling in love. Been there, done that, and didn’t bother to buy the T-shirt. Love is confusing and hurtful, and honestly, I’m too young to be sitting at home crying over why someone didn’t call. Lust, on the other hand, is very straightforward. It lets you know up front that all you want is to see what the person in front of you looks like buck naked and sweaty. It makes you want to see how their face contorts in the throes of an orgasm you induced. Best of all, it makes you want to remember what they sounded like the minute they screamed out your name in a fit of passion.

  That’s what I was thinking that night at The Deep, a really cheesy club for the bisexual and lesbian women in the city. The people you met there weren’t exactly funding Hallmark with their loving sentiments. It was a place to meet and see what body parts would fit where. If you got around to exchanging names, then you were ahead of the game and somewhat of a freak. These couplings were short
-term and needed only for gratification. The club lent itself well to the clientele. It was dark and full of big plush sofas and chairs. The bar was sunken into the middle of the floor so that when you came back up from getting your drinks you were surrounded by the bounty of flesh on display. I’ll admit that I had my share of liaisons from The Deep but I generally only went when my girlfriend, Nicole, wanted to go cruising.

  That was the case the night I met them. They were clearly together. He was about six-foot even, well built with a nice butt and wavy black hair that was twisted. He had dark mocha brown skin that seemed very smooth and luscious from what I could see. He was dressed well, which meant he took care of himself, but he was just icing on the proverbial cake. She was amazing, even from across the room under the dim lights of The Deep. She couldn’t have been more than five-foot-four-inches tall, but she was rocking some three-inch heels. Her skin was caramel colored and she had dyed her short, curly hair a deep shade of red mixed with brown. It was striking on her, especially when it curled close to her large almond-shaped eyes. That alone would have made me take a trip over to her to see if she was interested, but the breasts got me. She was about a 34D and since nipples are my favorite food I had to go introduce myself.

  I had been dancing with Nicole while we both waited for whatever it was we were looking for when I saw her. Well, I didn’t have a choice on that, actually. Nicole had been grinding her groin on my behind while I was moving to the music pulsating through the floor. I had closed my eyes and was just enjoying the dance when Nicole slid her hand up my leather halter-top and pinched my nipple. When my eyes jerked open, I saw the woman who made me wet from thirty paces. When I pulled away from Nicole, she leaned over and kissed me before whispering “happy hunting” in my ear. I told her “always” and went over to the couple I was planning to bed.

 

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