by Zane
“I totally agree.” I nodded. “Either you know it or you don’t, right?”
“Absolutely!”
The next two minutes seemed more like ten because of the silence between us. We could hear the thumping of the music coming from the Station. Both of us kept glancing at the cars driving by like we were sitting on a porch in the country, drinking iced tea out of mason jars and playing Cars.
I wanted to leave but didn’t want to be the one to say goodbye for fear of appearing impolite, so I waited for him to say it.
Finally, I got my wish.
“Well, Lucky, it’s getting late and I have to get going.”
I glanced at my watch, but didn’t pay any attention to the time. “Yeah, it is rather late. You take care, Dean Mitchell. I’ll see you around campus.”
“Good night!”
“Good night!”
I was about two cars away from my own, ready to break out in a run like the people trying to hop that train at the end of Rosewood to get away from his ass, when my head started spinning and my knees gave out from under me. The next thing I knew, I was ass out!
When I came around about an hour or so later, I was lying in a huge water bed with crisp white sheets on it. A bad-ass fauxfur comforter with a leopard-skin pattern was covering me. I sat up and thought I was in a mansion or some shit like that. I mean, this bedroom was laid da hell out.
A wall that was completely glass overlooked the Potomac River with all the lights from Virginia twinkling on the water from the other side. It reminded me of the view from the rooftop of the Kennedy Center. It was spectacular.
On the opposite wall were several paintings by African-American artists. I recognized most of them right away. WAK, Poncho, André Harris. The ceiling over the bed was covered with mirrors, and a blue neon sign on the wall over the doorway read Marvin.
Marvin? Who the fuck is Marvin? Then it hit me. Oh, shit, I am in Dean Mitchell’s bed!
I jumped up off the bed, checking to make sure my panties were still on, because you know that’s the first thing a sistah needs to do after an alcoholic blackout.
I used to have them all the time when I was at Spelman. One night I was so drunk after going to a happy hour at VIP’s, I didn’t even recollect these guys from Morehouse giving me a ride home. The next morning, I couldn’t find my pants from the night before. I was afraid I had told the Morehouse men to “Come on, ride the train.” I was relieved when my roommate told me that the worst thing I did was miss curfew, cuss the dorm mother out, throw up in a trash can, and put on a striptease show in the community room. Sure enough, my pants were right there in the middle of the floor.
But this wasn’t Spelman and Marvin Mitchell was not a Morehouse man. He was my med school administrator and I had just woken up in his bed. I panicked.
I thought about jumping over the balcony rail and scaling down the wall like Spider-Man, but had to think twice about that once I realized we were about ten floors up. It left me no alternative but to be a woman, face that I had made a fool of myself, and go talk to him about it. Beg for his forgiveness if need be.
I tiptoed out into his living room. Much unlike my panties, my shoes were missing in action. I didn’t see him anywhere but I was captivated by his place. I mean, his shit was really hooked.
Black leather furniture, a bearskin rug, a huge fireplace, marble tables, and more African-American artwork for days. I was standing there wondering why I couldn’t find any younger brothas who had it going on like that when he walked up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder.
I jumped like I was about to do a pole vault in the summer Olympics.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to alarm you.”
“No, you didn’t alarm me. It wasn’t you. I’m just quite embarrassed about this whole thing.”
“No need for that.” He walked past me, headed into the kitchen. “Things happen. That’s a part of life.”
“Yeah, but getting so drunk I black out and you have to bring me to your place? You have to admit, that’s a bit much.”
I heard him running some water in the sink before he came back around the corner. “Well, maybe just a little bit,” he said, and held his hand up with a little space between his thumb and forefinger.
We both snickered.
The man is sexy. S-E-XXX-Y. The diminutive lines around his eyes are the only things on him that give away the fact he’s about fifty. I felt my kitty getting moist and decided I needed to direct my thoughts to something else. Anything else.
“I took the liberty of putting on some coffee.”
“Thank you. That’s very kind. Bringing me here and all of that was really not necessary.”
“Would you rather that I left you out on the middle of the sidewalk so people coming out of the Takoma Station could step over you, mistake you for a homeless person, and drop quarters on you?”
I put my hands on my hips, chuckling. “Good point.”
I sat down on the leather sofa and grabbed a toss pillow, hugging it in front of my chest so he wouldn’t see my nipples getting hard through the black halter top I had on.
“Would you like to watch some cable or listen to some music while the coffee is brewing?”
“Sure!”
“Which one?”
“It’s up to you.”
He put on a Maxwell CD and then sat down beside me on the couch. The moment I got a whiff of his cologne, I knew my ass was in trouble. It was strong yet subtle, sweet yet masculine. Such a damn turn-on.
I moved my leg back and forth, causing friction on my clit. You know how we women do when the horns start poking out our heads. Now ordinarily, the young nuccas I deal with don’t know what it means when a woman moves her leg back and forth, but this man was cultivated. He looked over at me and the way I was shifting my leg and blushed.
Shit, he knows I want him to lick my belly button from the inside out, I notioned.
Never in one million years did I think he would go for it, but within seconds his strong, manicured hand was gently rubbing my knee. I trembled, so he backed off.
“Do you play chess, Lucky?” he asked, much to my astonishment.
“Umm, chess? No. I tried to learn once or twice, but I didn’t have the patience for it.”
“Understandable. It’s quite a disciplined game.”
We both got lost in the music.
“You like poetry?”
“Yes, I love poetry.”
“Would you like me to recite some poetry to you?” he inquired.
“No!” I exclaimed. I didn’t want any more fuel added to the fire that was burning inside me.
“Fortunate” came on and he grabbed my hand. “I know you dance.”
I didn’t respond. I didn’t take exception either when he pulled me up off the couch. He took me in his arms. I prayed that I could hold out. Once I felt his dick against my belly button, it was futile.
“You know, I really like the cute little Afro you have,” he said, gazing seductively into my eyes. “Most black women today feel the need to process their hair when natural beauty is so much more engaging.”
“Yeah, I agree. They either get perms, curls, or hair weaves like my sister Bryce. You should see her hair. I’m willing to bet you could bounce a basketball on it.”
We both fell out laughing. I was still recovering from the joke when he took me by the chin and kissed me gently on the lips.
I was dumbfounded. I didn’t pull away so he kissed me again, this time letting his thick tongue wander inside my mouth. I reciprocated.
Before the song ended, we were in his bed, ripping off clothes on top of the waves. I felt like I had died and gone to heaven when he started suckling on my nipples. I knew it had to be heaven when he started suckling on my clit because I came about five times in fifteen minutes.
I heard through the grapevine that older, more experienced men are fantastic lovers. I’m willing to give testimonial to that shit now.
After he had eaten his fair share
of Pussy à la Lucky and polished off his meal with Ass à la Lucky for dessert, he flipped me over and took me from behind.
His dick was long and thick, but he was ever so gentle with the pussy. He took his time and made the rest of the world vanish. It was just me and him. Him on top. Me on top. E-ve-ry which way.
After he came all over my ass cheeks, we both fell asleep for a couple of hours. When we woke up, the sun was rising. It was about 5:30 A.M.
I was planning on making a quick departure. I knew I was dead wrong for fucking him, but shit happens. Instead, he took me into the bathroom and ran a bubble bath for us in his whirlpool garden tub.
He took a huge bath sponge and washed every inch of my body in slow, circular motions. He even washed my hair. The feel of his strong fingers on my scalp turned my ass out.
I washed him and then told him to stand up. There it was, right in front of my face. His big, scrumptious, juicy dick. I hungrily took it in, trying to deep-throat the whole thing. Anything else wouldn’t have done it justice.
To be frank, whenever I suck dick, it is never for the benefit of the brotha. Sucking dick is all about me. I love sucking some damn dick, and suck a damn dick I did. Marvin Mitchell may be experienced, he may have had a lot of women, but he has never had a dick-sucking like the one he got that night.
His cum got me hooked. It was so damn delectable, I could drink that shit by the gallon. But like all good things, it had to come to an end, so about 11 A.M. I had him drive me back down to the Takoma Station to get my car.
I haven’t seen him since and I’m not quite sure what will happen when I do. It’s a tricky situation, but all I can say is he can have him some Pussy à la Lucky anytime and anyplace just like that Janet Jackson song.
The Response
“No he can’t have some Pussy à la Lucky anytime!” Harmony snapped. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”
“I have to agree with Harmony,” Bryce jumped in. “Harmony and I might disagree on a lot of shit, Lawd knows we do, but she’s right on point with this one.”
Lucky poked her bottom lip out at both of them like a little girl about to throw a temper tantrum. “You guys!”
“You guys nothing,” Harmony said. “You’re not going to carry on some scandalous affair with your dean. I don’t care if I have to call Daddy in Cali and tell him to come here and whup your black ass.”
“Forget Daddy,” Bryce proclaimed. “I’ll whup her black ass myself.”
“Amen to that,” Harmony added.
“I don’t know why ya’ll jocking my bra strap. You were both out hoeing that weekend, too.”
“Yeah, Lucky,” conceded Bryce. “But the shit you did could very well damage your future. Do you have any idea what will happen if this gets out?”
Lucky rolled her eyes.
Harmony leaned up over the table and gave Lucky the most angry, hurt look she had ever seen on her sister’s face.
“You listen to me, Lucky, and you listen to me good.”
“Aw hell,” Bryce said. “Here it comes.”
“Lucky, if you don’t put an end to this shit right now, I will. If it means calling Momma and Daddy in Cali and telling on your ass. If it means taking your car back that I’m paying the damn car note on. Even if it means refusing to make up the difference between your scholarship amount and the full tuition for next semester so you have to switch schools.”
“Harmony, you can’t be serious?” Bryce queried.
“I’m dead serious. As much as I’m busting my ass running this temp agency, working eighteen to twenty hours a day sometimes to make sure that Lucky has an opportunity for a secure future, and she’s going to turn around and jeopardize it all over some dick?”
Tears started to build in Lucky’s eyes as the culpability set in. She had never thought about all of that the night she did it. Harmony painstakingly struggled to ensure Lucky had a bright future. Harmony never asked for anything in return but hard work and dedication.
“No way! There’s no way in hell I’m standing for this!” Harmony looked around the restaurant. “Where is that damn waiter with the check anyway?”
Harmony got up from the booth to go search for the waiter, and Lucky grabbed her by the arm. She looked up at her with soggy eyes. “Harmony, I promise you that I’ll never do it again. I promise!”
5
Chillin’ at the Mall
“Ya’ll some nasty-ass heffas!” Harmony had listened to enough and was on her way out the door of the Soundstage after putting their bill on her platinum AmEx card.
“Hold the damn phone!” Bryce was right on her tail. Lucky was lagging behind a little because she had run into one of her male friends from high school in Cali on the way out. “Harmony, how in da hell you going to call us nasty when you fucked Fatima’s little-dick husband?”
Harmony sifted through her purse looking for her Ray•Bans. The sun was kicking. Felt like hell had opened up. “What happened between Javon and I was totally different.”
“Yeah right.” Bryce crossed her arms, striking her I-can’t-wait-to-hear-this-bullshit pose. “What’s the damn difference?”
“Hmph, I’ll tell you the damn difference. You fucked some man at a BBQ on a pool table. Other people were outside sucking the meat off of ribs and you were inside sucking the skin off a nucca’s dick.”
“Whatever!” Bryce rolled her eyes and shifted her weight to her other leg. “You always try to play this holier-than-thou role when you’re a bigger freak than Lucky and I put together.”
Harmony finally located her shades and put them on, sighing out of disgust, partly because she realized she had too much superfluous shit in her purse and partly because Bryce’s hair weave was giving her problems. “Bryce, I can’t really expect you to comprehend this being that you hang out with hoochie mamas like Colette. That skeezer would use food stamps to get some dick if she could.”
“Oooooooh, I’m tooooooo scared of you,” Bryce stated sarcastically, then covered her mouth to emphasize her boredom with an executed yawn.
“What I did with Javon’s skank ass was done out of a commitment to a friendship that has withstood the test of time. If the shoe were on the other foot, Fatima would have done the same for me.”
“Well, the shoe wouldn’t ever be on the other foot because I know your ass is not moronic enough to marry a little-dick man.”
“You don’t know who the hell I would marry!”
Harmony’s bottom lip started trembling. Bryce knew she was taking it to the extreme, but it had been a long time since she had raked on her sister’s nerves so bad. Bryce was relishing every minute of it so she kept it going. “Shit, just admit it. You’re a freak! F-R-R-E-A-K-K-K. You get two R’s and three K’s ’cause you’re twice as raunchy and three times as kinky as a normal day-to-day freak.”
“Ya’ll still going at it?” Lucky barged into the convo after completing her mission of getting the digits of the brotha from high school. “You sistahs are unfuckinbelievable. Take a damn dead issue and try to perform CPR on the shit.”
Harmony and Bryce both leered at Lucky and told her, “Shut the hell up!”
“Geeesh! Whatever!” Lucky sauntered to the edge of the sidewalk and lit herself a cigarette. “Fuck it. I know when I’m wasting my time on a lost cause.”
They started to draw attention, but Harmony was not about to drop it. Lucky was right to an extent. Both Harmony and Bryce always coveted the last word and would spend hours, if need be, trying to get it.
“I’m not a freak. You and your entourage of hooker friends are freaks. I’m a grown woman. If I want to fuck my best friend’s husband so she can take his ass to the cleaner’s, that’s my business.”
Everyone was staring by then. People even started coming outside from the waiting area to see what the deal was.
Harmony and Bryce just glared at each other like two sumo wrestlers getting ready to pulverize each other.
“Please forgive my sisters.” Lucky chuckled as she
scanned the converging crowd of onlookers. “You remember when St. Elizabeth’s let out all those crazy folks because they were low on funding? This is the result. You all need to write your congressman and lobby for a new bill to protect society from bitches with attitudes.”
“Lucky, shut the hell up!” Bryce forgot about Harmony and came over to confront her baby sibling. “You don’t even need to be talking. Look at your Pam-Grier-wanna-be ass trying to playa hate. You are such a—”
“Before the two of you get started, I’m about to bounce. Call me later this week.” Harmony was twirling her key ring on her finger and not about to stand there and listen to her sisters trade snide remarks.
Harmony was halfway to her convertible Jaguar when her sisters came rushing up behind her. Obviously, they didn’t feel like causing a ruckus any further either. “Where are you going, Harmony? I thought you were going shopping with us.”
Harmony turned around to look at Bryce, wondering if the chica was actually serious about going shopping after all of the insults. “Shopping? Didn’t nobody say a damn thing about shopping today.”
“I mentioned it to you on the phone. You don’t remember? In fact, Colette’s meeting us at Landover Mall.”
“Colette?” Harmony resumed her pace and hit the button on her key chain to turn off the car alarm. “Now I know your ass is trippin’ hard. The last thing I want to do is spend the rest of my Saturday afternoon with Colette.”
“See, now you’re insulting my friends.”
“I’m not insulting jack. I’m just telling you like it is. Besides, I always insult your friends. It isn’t like it’s something new.”
Lucky grabbed ahold of Harmony’s right elbow as she was unlocking the driver’s side door. “Come on, Sis! I don’t get to spend that much time with you lately because med school is kicking my ass. Please! I want you to come shopping with us.”
Harmony looked at Lucky’s fallacious smile, immediately sensing some ulterior motives, and then it hit her. “Uh-huh, the only reason you want me to go shopping is so you can hit me up for some cash or run my credit card bills up. Your game is old, sistahgurl.”