by Brandie
“No, Chinoe, wait!” She was playin’ right into my hands, sounding desperate. “I thought you were seeing other people. You are always gone. The only way to get in touch with you is that damn cell phone. Look at your buddies. They are all hoes and sluts. Money screwing anybody and your, supposedly, best friend. She fuckin’ him and her boyfriend and don’t know who her baby daddy is. And Taeko got babies floating everywhere. What am I to think?”
“Whatever you want about my friends. ’Cause I’m not them, so you are dead wrong for stereotyping me.”
“Chinoe, why do we have to end like this?” I could hear her crying uncontrollably.
“All right, come on over here and fuck something. No talking, no nothing, just fuckin’. You act like a trick, so I’m gon’ treat you like a trick. Fuck or get cut.” Click.
I’m tired of playing the nice guy and looking for something that doesn’t exist.
BAM!! The door swung open and slammed shut fast.
“What the hell!” I couldn’t see who it was, but I knew it was a female from the sweet scent in the air, the same scent coming from the truck outside.
“If Taeko or Money sent you up here, I’ll pay you double to leave.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t think anyone was in here, and furthermore, I’m not a prostitute.”
“Whatchu wearin’?” I asked sniffing the air again.
“My skin.” She said with a smart attitude.
Oh, she got jokes. “Damn, Miss Lady, I was just complimenting you on how good you smell.”
“Well, you better be specific about what you want. It’s called Ocean Dream. And I’m sorry I barged in on you. I didn’t think anyone was in here. I figured I could pick a door and hide behind it.”
“Hold on. If you dodging bullets you got to get the hell outta here.”
She laughed. Her voice sounded familiar, a little rough and hoarse all intertwined to equal soft and sexy.
“Do I know you from somewhere?”
I tried scooting closer to her voice. I wanted to fill my nostrils with this Ocean Dream. Maybe it could take my mind off of reality.
“I don’t know. Do I look familiar?”
“I don’t have x-ray vision.”
“Oh, shit, it is dark, huh?” She laughed with that beautiful sound again. “My room is like this, too, but I have windows. I had to put dark blinds and drapes over them. I love the darkness; it feels calm and relaxing.”
“My boyz say I’m crazy for wanting to be closed in all the time.”
“Safest place,” we both said at the same time.
“So why are you up here hidin’?”
“First of all, I don’t smoke weed. the smell clings to my hair and clothes. And I’m not a ho, so there was no use in me teasin’ if I’m not pleasin’.”
“So why come? You know what these parties be like.”
“Brought some friends. But I think I’m about to go home so I can listen to some Frankie Beverly and Maze or, better yet, some Anita Baker.
“Girl, you don’t know ’bout dem Maze boys or Ms. Baker.”
“I might be young, but I love all the oldies.”
“Those are two of my favorite artists.”
“So that means you have them in here.”
“Yep.”
“Well, before you get it crunk in here will you help me to the bathroom?”
“Here,” reaching through the dark to meet her hand, I led her to the bathroom door. Then I hurried to turn on the light so that I could see her and find the CD’s.
Not moving fast enough, I missed seeing her face, but I got a glimpse at a nice ass.
Damn she sounds familiar. I know I’ve heard that voice somewhere. I know I have.
I found Maze, THIN LINE BETWEEN LOVE AND HATE soundtrack, Anita Baker, Isley Brothers, Al Green, the Chi-lites, the Gap band, and to top it off Prince, just in case she wanted to get freaky.
Cameo was already in, so I played CANDY and put it on shuffle.
As soon as I cut the light off, she came out of the bathroom.
“That tub is nice. Platinum, I love it. It’s the new color signifying wealth. You aren’t going to believe it, but my bathroom color’s the same. I guess it caught your eye, too.”
“Are you me in a female essence?”
“Naw you just have good taste.”
She felt around and sat down in the chair in front of the bed. “That’s my jam. I always dance off of that.”
“Oh, yeah, well, if you shy this is your chance to dance; I can’t see anything.”
She got up and walked toward the bed. “Ouch.”
“Be careful.”
She grabbed my head.
“Sorry. Give me your damn hand,” she said, trying not to laugh.
“Sure thang. You know you have a sexy-ass voice.” She smiled. I couldn’t see it, but I could feel it. We started dancing. She put my hands on her hips. “Nice.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing.”
Her hips felt so full and soft. Damn, she feels good!
My hands took control, rubbing up and down her sides, feeling every curve her body owned. She smelled like a dream.
“What did you say that perfume was called?”
“Not telling.”
“You already told me once.”
“Right, already told you once. You got to learn how to be sharper; women love that stuff.” She got right up on me. Even her breath smelled good.
“Are you wearing lipstick?”
“No, I hate makeup.” I squeezed her closer. She lifted her head quickly, bumping me in the lip.
“Ooh, sorry.”
“Do you want me to turn on the light so you don’t kill me?” I asked, mocking a serious tone.
“No, I’m sorry. If you turn on the light, I’m leaving.”
“Wouldn’t want you to do that.” She was moving so sexually. Her body felt like it was meant for mine. It felt like a bale of cotton spun with pure silk. “Mmmmm, your skin is so soft.”
“Are you trying to seduce me?”
“No, no, just giving you your props. Don’t let it blow up your head.”
The girl had a jazzy mouth. She was probably ugly, but her conversation and company were soothing.
Anita Baker’s ANGEL came on. “Ooh, that song is sooo beautiful. It makes me feel sexy.” She came close to me again. We started slow dancing, and her body melted into mine. “You feel pretty good yourself. I’m in love with strong arms and big hands.”
“Better to hold you with my dear,” I said, squeezing her. “And better to touch you with.”
She rubbed her hands across my face slow and sensual. “You have smoother skin than I do.”
“Not possible. I’ma have to call you silk.” I could tell she was blushing.
“Thanks.”
We continued to slow grind and I started to get aroused. But this wasn’t a feeling like I had to fuck, it felt stronger, mentally stimulating.
“What time is it?”
Damn! Is she trying to leave already?
“It’s, I can’t see the clock or my watch, and you told me that if I turned on the light you were leaving.”
She smacked her lips. “You’re good, real good. Listening.” As the music continued we slowed down our pace. “I’m getting tired. I’ve been on my feet all day. Can I take off my shoes?”
“Yeah, take off whatever you want.”
“Umm hum. Don’t get fresh.”
I’m serious. Her body felt too good. I wanted to squeeze her soft breast with my bare hands, no clothes.
“I’m thirsty.”
“You want me to get you something to drink?”
“Yes, please.”
“Soda, beer, mixed drink?”
“I would like an Amaretto sour, but I don’t really drink. Some cranberry juice and Sprite would be nice.”
“Mixed?”
“Yeah, mixed. It has a tangy taste to it.”
“Okay, if you say so.” I ran downstairs
to get this unknown lady a drink. The party was still bumping. I got her the nasty shit she requested and got myself some Hennessy and Coke.
Before going back upstairs, I went to the basement to see what them niggas was doing. Taeko was layed back, getting head. “Damn Tae, you still at it?”
“Hell, yeah . . . these hoes—ssssttt—givin’ brains like crazy.”
“Where Money?”
“Fuckin’.”
I waved Taeko off and went to Money’s room. I opened the door to him bonin’ some girl with a fat, round, jiggly ass.
“My bad Dawg.” I turned my head. “Just lettin’ you know I’m in my room.”
He waved his hand. That nigga was high as a kite and jimmyless. Them niggas wasn’t never gon’ learn.
Back in my room, an alluring scent pulled me in—bubble bath. “Hey, where you at?”
“Hey is for horses; I’m in here.”
I walked into my bathroom to find her in the Jacuzzi. I couldn’t see her, but I heard her. “You just takin’ over, aren’t you?”
“I just thought a bath would be relaxing. This tub is big enough for five, so why don’t you fill the other end.”
What the hell. Maybe it would relax me, too.
“I know you had to turn on the lights to do all this.”
“Maybe, maybe not. I could just be good with my hands.”
“I can believe that.” As I began to take off my clothes, I felt a wet hand helping me unbutton my shirt. She got it off in seconds. “Pro, huh?” She didn’t respond.
Did she do this all the time?
Then she unbuttoned my jeans, letting them fall to the floor. “Umm . . . boxers. What color?”
“Purple.”
“Wha’dddd? That’s my favorite color.”
“I thought it was silver?”
“I didn’t tell you that; I said my bathroom was that color. Listen.”
“Damn! Your mouth jazzy.”
“Yeah, got a Masters in it.”
“Oh, you not gon’ finish undressin’ me?”
“You seem like a big boy.” She patted my chest. “You can handle it.”
I grabbed some towels and gave her the drink she requested.
“Umm mmm!”
“Does it taste good mixed?”
“Yeah, the drink and the feeling of this water.”
I stepped into the tub. It was hot as hell. “You like your water a little hot, don’t you?”
“Sorry. Do you want me to run some cold water?”
I slid down slowly into the water, “No, don’t worry bout it, I guess my nuts won’t turn into raisins.”
We sat quietly for a while, the music playing softly, my mind wanderin’ aimlessly. But my curiosity quickly took over.
“Is your hair long? Or do you have a horse’s tail?”
“Yes, it comes mid-back, and it’s all mine.”
“What color?”
“Jet black.”
“Do you wear makeup?”
“No, just a little lipgloss and maybe a little eye shadow. I think makeup is so superficial; it makes a woman look fake. When you lay down with her at night she’s beautiful, but when y’all wake up in the morning she look like boo-boo.”
We laughed together.
“I don’t like women that wear makeup. It’s messy and fake. But I do think that shiny stuff on the lips is sexy. A little eye makeup to match the outfit is sexy, too, but not that black-liner stuff under the eye and around the lips. Makes y’all look like witches.”
She reached up and touched my face with her wet hands. “You have a goatee. It’s sexy on the ugliest man.” She passed her hand through my hair. “You have beautiful hair, too. It’s so curly and soft.”
“Thanks to my dad.”
“A young black man with a true father is rare.”
I almost took offense to her comment, but she was absolutely right, too many sperm donors and not enough hardhats to stick around. “You right. A lot of young men, and men in general, couldn’t say my dad or even knew their dad.” Money came to mind as I said that.
“Where you from?” she asked.
“I was born in Michigan, then we moved to Columbus, Georgia because my father was in the military. After he completed his service, my mother wanted to move to Atlanta, so when I was in the fourth grade we moved here. And here I am. What’s your story?”
“You’re not going to believe this, but I was born in Minnesota. Then my father moved my mother to Atlanta. My mother then moved to Columbus for some reason or another. And then back here.”
“Yeah, right. Stop telling jokes,” I said.
“No joke. I grew up between Columbus and Atlanta. I moved to Columbus in the fourth grade then came back to Atlanta my eleventh grade year.”
“So we missed each other?”
“I guess so.”
“What school did you graduate from?”
“I went to homebound school for three years. My mother thought it would be less distracting and more advanced.”
“My mother teaches homebound school. Her name is Seal Starr.”
“Mrs. Starr is your mother?”
“Yeah, you know her? Had her as a teacher?”
“Yes, and she was my advisor. What school did you graduate from?” She asked excited and truly interested in my world.
“Banneker High.”
“You have a beautiful mother inside and out. She used to talk about you all the time. Most of her classes were subjected Chinoe Starr. I could never forget that name.”
“So how often do you go to Columbus?”
“Once a month. My father, grandmother, and cousins live there.”
“Do you ever go out to the clubs?” I asked.
“The F&W sometimes, and Tucks when I’m down there on a Thursday. Do you ever go?”
“Not hardly, just to see my family on occassion.” My foot accidentally touched her pussy. “My bad. I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t complain.”
I’m really feeling this girl. It’s just that I don’t know what I’m facing, literally.
“I wonder what time it is?”
“Why are you so concerned with time? My company not intriguing enough for you?”
“No, that’s not it. I have to go to school at seven-thirty in the morning.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Thought you had a date.”
“I do, with my professor.”
“What are you taking up?”
“Law. “
“What type of law?”
“Entertainment law.”
I was ready to ask this girl to marry me. “I know you goin’ to think I’m gamin’ you, but that’s what I started going to school for. I got sidetracked and stuck with computer programming.”
“If everything we are telling each other is true, we better elope right now.” She laughed sweetly.
“What’s your classification?’
“Junior.”
“What school?”
“Clayton State University. I’m doing the integrated studies program.”
“I went to Clayton too”
“I told you, you had good taste.
Shit! My mind was going in a thousand directions, this woman could have been a murderer; a crazy person that did this all the time. Or she could have been someone’s wife or mother—two drama areas I wasn’t willing to deal with.
“Ahh—” I paused because I didn’t know her name.
“Brandie.”
I grabbed my dick because she said it so sexy and powerful.
“Intoxicating?”
“Yeah, to those who dare take a sip.”
I wasn’t going to tell her that I planned to name my first-born girl Brandy; she was already high on her horse.
“You got any tat’s?”
“Yeah, on my lower back. It says Caramel with drips, dripping all over it.”
“Ummmm.”
“And you?”
“Nope. Not yet.” I cleared my throat, ready for the serio
us questions. “So, Brandie, are you married? Boyfriend? Booty partner?”
“Well, I am seeing some people right now, but nothing concrete. School and work take up all my time. I work at PNC Bank for a couple of hours after school.”
“Some people? Hmm.”
“What? I know you probably got women crawling all over Atlanta.”
“Nope, I’m single to mingle.”
The water started cooling off, and I wondered if my conversation was headed in the same direction.
“Since we don’t know each other, is it okay to ask personal questions?”
“Shoot.”
“When I was at work yesterday these girls were talking about how many guys they had slept with. How many do you think is too many?”
“Any.”
“Huh?”
“One is too many, if you ask me.”
“Oh, y’all kill me wantin’ a virgin and ain’t one yourself.”
I just let her have that li’l bit. Figured the best thing for me to do was change the subject, so if something popped off she wouldn’t think I was inexperienced. But she piqued my interest so I wanted to know more. “Have you ever had a one-night stand?”
“No, but that’s on my to do list before I settle down.”
“Umm. Have you ever been with a virgin?”
“I’d probably take his mind along with his dick.”
“Meaning?”
“I’m not one to toot my own horn, but I know what I’m doing. I do it well.”
I bet she did, as fine as she felt and moved in my hands. I knew it would feel even better on my dick!
“I like to do all types of things,” she added. “But only if I like a person. You know how hard it is to do anything good if you don’t really like the person you’re doing it to or with.”
She had a valid point.
“Do you like to give head?”
Brandie laughed so hard, bubbles fly into my face. She felt them blow. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
She raised up on her knees trying to find her way to my face. Instead she grabbed my bicep. “Umm, that’s not it.” She slipped and her hand fell on my dick. Already turned on by her sexy voice and soft skin, I instantly became hard.
She didn’t move her hand. “Yes, I do like to give head—” I’m breathing her breath, she’s so close. “If I like the person.”
“Do you like me?”
Brandie had my emotions running high. I wanted her physically, mentally, emotionally, and forever. She must have felt the same breath exchange because she started kissing me. “Umm,” she kissed me. “Umm,” she kissed me even more deeply. “Ummmm.”