by M. T. Pope
“Young bucks?” I said as I faked being offended. “You’re on,” I said, stepping out of my chair and onto the dance floor. I wasn’t about to be shown up. I had a couple of good moves in me still.
We danced until about two in the morning. I walked off the floor tired and drenched. The liquor had completely worn off. When I got back to my table, I figured it was time for me to go and make a night of it.
Darius, the older guy, met me back at the table just as I was getting my coat on.
“You’re not leaving yet? The night just got started.”
“I don’t stay out this late. I like to get at least eight hours of sleep before I have to get up for the next day.”
“Well, can I at least walk you to your car?” He looked at me with a disappointed look on his face.
“Um . . . sure,” I said, a little uneasy. I’d just met this dude, and he could be trying to set me up or even rape me or something.
I walked out the door with Darius in tow. I had my hand on my keys in my coat pocket. They had an emergency-size pepper spray on them that I could easily unlatch if somebody broke bad on me.
My car was about three blocks away, so we chitchatted a little as we walked. Out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw somebody following us. It was late and I didn’t take any chances. I eased the top off of the pepper spray just in case.
“So this young tender you leaving me for, Darius?” I heard someone yell. I turned around to see an older guy, probably about sixty-five years or older, standing with a bat in his hand. My mouth flung open.
“What in the he—” That was all I could get out before the old dude started swinging. I ducked just in time, but Darius wasn’t so lucky. When I looked over I saw him on the ground balled up. I looked at the old dude, who still had rage in his eyes. He looked as if he was going to swing again. I quickly pulled out the pepper spray, sprayed his ass like I was using a can of Raid on some roaches, and then hauled my ass out of there. I sprinted all the way to my car. As I got there I was shaking, fumbling my keys, and looking behind me to see if I was in the clear like a white girl in a horror flick. I jumped in my car and sped off like a bat out of hell. I wasn’t going to that club ever again.
As I was driving down the block, which happened to be the one I had just sprinted up to get to my car, I noticed that the old dude was still whipping Darius’s ass. I just shook my head and kept it moving. I dodged a bullet there. Just think, I could have taken that chump home and old dude probably would have followed me home and bust out my car windows or something. I did not need that shit in my neighborhood. I was still apologizing to my neighbors who were awakened by Ronald beating on my door weeks ago.
As I pulled up to my door, guess who was sitting on my stoop? Yep, it was Ronald. I must have talked his ass up.
“Hey, baby,” he said as I got out the car and made my way up to the steps.
“What do you want? Didn’t I put you out weeks ago? Why are you back here?” I asked as I walked past him and up to my door. This guy was a thorn in my side. Really!
He walked up behind me and pressed up against me with his hard dick against my ass. He reached around and grabbed my dick with his hand and massaged it. I fumbled my keys, missing a lock for the second time in an hour.
I turned around, angry and horny. “Look, I’m tired and—”
He cut me off with a kiss that made my arms go limp. I dropped my keys and let him take advantage of me. After about a minute he pulled away and looked at me with his eyes piercing me. He was intoxicating, sexy, and irritating as hell.
“Now what were you saying?” he said as I just stared into his eyes.
“Um . . . Um . . . What was I saying?” I stood there on my stoop with my hand on my forehead. His kiss had left me absentminded and dazed.
Chapter 4
Lewis
Love . . . Is That You?
“Hey, boo.” I kissed my best friend Dennis on his forehead as we sat down for lunch. Dennis was a white boy with just as much flare and charisma as me. Though he wasn’t overly feminine like I sometimes could be. I’m not hating I just know who I like to hang out with. We complemented each other well. The only difference between me and him was he had a man. A deep, dark chocolate man. A working man. A construction worker who was all man. He was built strong, just like a Ford truck. Dennis and I met while waiting tables when we worked at Applebee’s during my college years. We had clicked from the start and we had been friends ever since. Dennis was a clothing designer for a reputable fashion line out of DC and he was very good at his job. I even wore some of his designs.
“Hey, sir,” he spoke before he took a sip of his tea. We were in Mount Vernon in a quaint little restaurant with a table or two outside. We would meet up here for lunch about twice a week to chitchat and gossip a little. “So what’s going on in your world?”
“Not a thing.” I smirked.
“Good day, sir. Can I get you something to drink?” A petite black woman politely interrupted me before I could go into detail with Dennis about the last couple of days in my life.
“Yes, I’ll have a chocolate Frappuccino with whipped cream and a vanilla scone,” I ordered.
“Sure, I’ll be right back.”
“All that sugar goes to the hips, you know that, right?” Dennis scolded me.
He always chastised me when it came down to my weight. I was a regular-looking guy, not fat or thin, but I was fit. Dennis was always fit. He looked good. But he wasn’t always like that. Getting and keeping a man would do that to you. He was a gym freak. He lived inside Bally Total Fitness.
“I don’t have anybody to worry about that for anyway. I don’t have a man like you do.” I threw a little shade his way. It was innocent though.
“And you won’t get one with a gut and thick thighs, unless you meet one who’s a chubby chaser.” He smiled.
“Bitch, please. Chubby is not for me. Now don’t get me wrong, I will fuck a thick guy, because I like me a thick man working me over, but I don’t want to be one.” We both laughed.
“Anyway,” I pushed to change the subject from me to him. “How is Charles doing? Mr. Work Hard For The Money?”
“Chile, he is doing it and doing it well. I just can’t keep him off of me. I’m surprised that I could sit down in my office chair this morning.” He was smiling extremely too hard. I was envious on the inside. Extremely envious.
“Damn, he got it like that.” I scooted up my chair a little closer to the table. The waiter came and brought me my order. She asked if I needed anything else, but I waved her away in an effort to get back to the conversation with Dennis.
“Well, baby, let’s just say he brings his own jackhammer home and into the bedroom. He breaks ground every time he enters me.”
“Ump . . . ump . . . ump.” I shook my head and marveled.
“And get this. He talks to me afterward. Not that I be listening, because I be so spent afterward. He holds me and kisses the nap of my neck. I wake up to breakfast in bed sometimes, and when he leaves for work before I get up there are love notes plastered all over the house to see when I get ready to leave out for the day.”
I could have flipped the table over and walked off. I was so jealous. Not at Dennis, just that I didn’t have a man like that. I got stuck with losers, leeches, or ones already on leashes.
“Damn, what the hell am I doing wrong?” I asked out loud after a few seconds.
“The right one will come along. You just have to be patient. Don’t rush it. I had to go through the whole United Nations just to find mines.” We both burst into laughter.
“Now, that is true. You was a ho back in the day.” I laughed.
“Boy, please. They gave you an honorary star up on the Meat Rack for all the men you were serving up,” he said and then we both laughed again.
We ragged on each other for about another half hour before we both made our way back toward our perspective jobs. When I got back to the office I was a little peppier than I was when I ha
d left for lunch.
Back at my desk, I was going through my “to do” list for the rest of the day. But my mind kept wandering back to the conversation that I had with Dennis today. We had fun and I loved every minute I spent with him, but he had someone to go home to. Colors and schemes weren’t making me happy at home or comforting me at night. I needed a living, breathing body to do that job. I wanted someone to talk to about my dreams and aspirations. I needed someone to sit across a table from and just to stare at for as long as I wanted to without saying a word. Why couldn’t I have that? Was I asking for too much or were my standards too high?
I reached in one of my desk drawers and pulled out a Dove Dark Chocolate with Almonds bar and started to devour it. Dennis was right; I was going to eat myself heavy. And I knew all too well that color on a fat man was a no-no, but I was an emotional eater. And right now I was an emotional wreck. I threw the wrapper in the trash and continued to do my work for the rest of the day.
On my way home from work I hoped and prayed that the unhappy Asian across the complex was up for some “unhappy” sex. Since we were both unhappy with our present situations, why not have some “unhappy” sex?
But I pulled into my parking spot in front of my house and sat there for a minute, hoping that he would come out of his door “coincidentally.” I hoped that he waited by the window for me to come home like a mate would do. I looked in the rearview mirror a few times before giving up and getting out of my car.
“Excuse me, can you do me a favor?” I turned to see a fine—and I mean fine—light-skinned guy standing before me.
“What can I do to you?” I blurted out my innermost thoughts inadvertently.
“Huh?” He looked at me, confused.
“Wow, I’m so sorry.” I was completely embarrassed. I looked away for a second before I spoke again. “That wasn’t supposed to come out.”
“It’s all good, and we’ve all had those moments,” he said, trying to make me feel at ease.
“I guess.” I shrugged my shoulders. I was still embarrassed.
“Anyway, I am new to the complex and I locked my keys in my car. Could you call a locksmith? Because I left my phone in my house, too.”
“Sure.” I pulled out my phone and Googled locksmiths in my area and within minutes he was on the phone arranging for a locksmith to pop his lock.
“Thank you so much.” He handed me back my phone. He had a well-manicured afro-type haircut and exquisitely tapered up goatee and mustache. He was gorgeous. Then he smiled and his teeth were subpar, a little dingy. It wasn’t a total mood killer but I wouldn’t kiss him right off either. “How can I pay you back for this?”
“Pay me back?” My mind wandered off to all types of places and I was in heaven just thinking about the possibilities of him and me getting it in sexually. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just a phone call. It was no problem at all, quite a pleasure actually.”
“Nah, tell you what. I’m a cook and I’ll invite you to the restaurant I cook at and cook you whatever you want on me.”
“Oh, you got it like that huh?” I looked him up and down lasciviously. I didn’t have a pure thought in my head right now.
“Maybe, you’ll just have to come and check me out.”
Too late for that, I thought as he handed me his card and smiled. I didn’t know what that smile meant but I wanted it to mean some fabulous, mind-blowing sex. I could see me going off into the sunset with him.
“Well, let me go stand by the entrance gate so I can let the locksmith in when he comes.” He then turned and walked in the direction of the front gate. He had a fabulous walk and a nice butt, too.
“Daniel Asher, master chef.” I looked at his card and smiled. “I wonder what else you’re a master at doing,” I said as I smiled and grinned as I walked to my front door and entered my apartment.
I was definitely going to find out about Daniel and all of his skills. I could only hope he was at least on both sides of the fence or hopefully just my side. The shower I took before I went to bed was all that. I couldn’t help but masturbate in the shower just from the thought of maybe having a man who could cook in and out of the bedroom. Both were still to be determined. I was going to do my best to bring him on home.
Chapter 5
Kardell
A Day in the Life
I woke up in bed with a snoring Ronald next to me. I put my hand on my forehead, because I could not believe I ended up here once again. Maybe I was fooling myself by going out and looking for Mr. Right last night. Maybe Ronald is Mr. Fuck-it-he’ll-have-to-do. Is every man a liar and a cheat? Or was I just a magnet for losers? The hell if I knew, but I was surely getting tired of the runaround with these men I’d been stumbling on to.
I got up and stretched as Ronald shifted in the bed, but he did not get up. Of course he didn’t; what did he have to get up for? He had no job with prospects, that was clear. I sluggishly headed to the shower. After about fifteen minutes in the shower, I was out and drying myself off. While I was in the shower I did have a conversation with myself about being optimistic and sticking it out with Ronald and his flaws.
As I was in my walk-in closet, trying to get myself a suit to wear to work, Ronald snuck up and grabbed me from behind.
“Where do you think you are going?” he said as his muscular arms wrapped around me, threatening to break my smaller ones.
“To work,” I said, while he licked the back of my neck. He eased his hands under my V-neck undershirt and caressed my pecks. He was turning me on. He was very good at getting me hot and bothered within seconds of his touch. I had a floor-to-ceiling mirror at the end of my closet and I looked at the two gorgeous guys who stood in front of it. I wasn’t sure of how long this was going to last, but I liked what I saw in that mirror. I saw a glimmer of hope. “Ummmmm . . . Not now, baby,” I said, struggling to ease my way out of his grasp.
“You sure?” He started to take of his shirt. His body was almost flawless. His pecks were huge and his abs could wash a couple loads of clothes easily, they were that tight. He stood there in his boxers and a fresh pair of my socks.
“Um. Umm. I have to get to work,” I said, trying to keep the snake in my pants from growing. It was a losing battle. As I looked into his soft eyes and a smirk on his face that made me melt, I knew if I didn’t go now I would be late, if I went at all. It had happened before.
He eased his boxers down and his manhood, which was curved and hard, beckoned my lips like a mouse to cheese.
“Are you sure?” he asked again. This time he made it jump and slap his thigh. He smiled as if he knew he had me. I shook my head and pushed past him with my suit in hand. It took everything in me not to go back and finish him off in the closet.
“Yep.” Somebody had to bring home the bacon. And I surely couldn’t rely on him to get the job done.
I stood at my dresser as I fixed my tie and made sure my hair was in place. Ronald sat on the corner of the bed and watched me as I finished my ritual. I watched him from the large mirror that was on the same dresser as he made his pecks dance. He knew I was watching him and he also knew that I loved his chest. He was really trying to entice me.
“So what are you going to do today?” I asked as I walked away from my dresser, out of my room, and down the steps toward my kitchen while he was in pursuit. He came in the kitchen right after me and sat down at the table.
“I’ma go holler at a couple of my boys and then I’m going to check out a couple of spots to see if I can get me some work.” He was drawing circles in the table as he talked, which made me think he was just talking to be talking. I wondered if he was one of those pretty boy airheads. Was I just keeping him here as a placeholder for the man of my dreams or maybe so my bed wouldn’t be cold at night? He was getting on my nerves.
“All right, whatever,” I said nonchalantly. I made a cup of coffee, made my way toward my office, and got my laptop and some papers for work. I was trying my best to get out of the house before he wanted to tr
y to get a piece before I left, again.
He went into the living room and cut the television on. As I made my way toward the door, I turned toward him as he sat in my chocolate and cream leather and suede sectional with his feet propped up on my matching ottoman.
“Are you going to be here when I get back or is this the last time I am going to see you for a while?”
“Sure, baby boy. Because that fat ass you got right there belongs to me tonight.” He was smiling ear to ear and laughing. I just shook my head and exited my home.
“I guess this is my life,” I mumbled to myself as I walked out of my door. I’d have to say that I wasn’t too comfortable with this situation. Here I was portraying one thing at work and being another thing in my personal life. I just wanted to be happy and in a relationship with someone I could depend on. Was that too much to ask?
I walked into work with a frown on my face and a frown in my heart. I just wasn’t sure how I was going to put up with Ronald and his shenanigans for a long time. I walked into my office and shut my door. My secretary waved a couple of messages or something in the air, but I was too preoccupied with my defunct love life. I was a successful marketing executive of a marketing company (Bankable Advertising, Inc.) that I launched right after I graduated from college. I was on the right track with a heavy client base that rivaled any other marketing firm in the area. I had several junior execs and one intern who were in my staff of professionals. All I needed to complete the puzzle of my life was a life partner I could lean on for love and support forever. It just didn’t seem like it was ever going to happen. Ever.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Come in,” I said, logging on to my computer system and checking my e-mails.
“Mr. Spencer, is everything okay?” My secretary, Janice, walked up to my desk with a notepad in hand. She was a petite woman. Her skin was as chocolate as a Hershey Kiss and she was as sweet as one, too. She was a bit older than I wanted to hire, but she was efficient and meticulous, which was why I hired her. I had just launched my company and my office was in disarray. In the middle of her interview I had to use the bathroom and within ten minutes of my absence she had completely organized my entire desk and half my office. I knew I should have been annoyed by her touching my things but she showed that she was orderly and professional. She also reminded me a little of my deceased grandmother. Needless to say, I hired her on the spot.