by Xavier Neal
Not real sure why he owns it. He doesn't like to drive. He hates it. He always has. Why would you buy something that size if you hate operating it?
My phone vibrates just before I start the vehicle.
J.J.: Gen says you better bring her a magnet back from Texas or she’ll take away your rights as Godfather.
Chuckling, I quickly type back.
Me: Tell Gen she doesn't have to threaten me. Just saying she misses me would be enough.
I finally turn the key, buckle up, and head out of the neighborhood for Minka's.
The Bluetooth informs me I've received another message. With a smile, I listen to the woman's voice read it while I drive.
J.J.: The look on her face is really scary. Bring back her magnet and something for Sami. Not more stuffed animals. She already has a damn zoo in her room.
Instead of replying, I laugh to myself, and turn on the radio.
Love that little girl. It's not a huge deal being her Godfather right now. She can't exactly walk or talk yet, but when those days come I know how I'll handle my job. When she's young always have the best candy and toys and when she's older always have bail money and beer. See. Perfect Godfather.
After a brief drive across town, I'm opening the front door to Minka's apartment with the key she gave me.
Big step, huh? At least I'm assuming so. According to J.J. it is. I've never had the key to a chick's place before. Never given one either. Cam and I may have spent many nights together, but it was mainly at her apartment. We damn sure never got to the point where we even considered swapping keys. Hell, I honestly don't think we ever would've. We were only together for a couple months and I was ready to bail. While I hate the fact she was unfaithful, part of me was relieved. She gave me an out. She stopped me from wasting countless hours pretending to progress in a relationship I knew I never would. Truthfully, Minka's the first woman I've been able to see an actual future with. I'm talking the real deal. The whole nine yards if she can stomach the lifestyle, which is the lingering trepidation. I don't want her deeper down my rabbit hole. It's gruesome. Unforgiving. Callous. Causes me to act that way in reaction to the way it treats me. You know, the more time I spend miles away from the unwanted attention, the more I dread ever returning.
Loud music pours out of her bedroom and I stroll across the apartment straight for it. As soon as I'm in the doorway a smile instantly appears on my face.
Minka leans to the side singing shirtless into her hair brush. With one hand in the air fist pumping and her head tossed back with her eyes closed, she continues to sing her heart out.
Unlike me she's not musically slow...
Her hips sway seductively while she tosses around her freshly washed wavy hair like a sex kitten on a stage in front of a starved audience. A little groan escapes as my cock bumps against my jeans. The continuous swiveling of her hips transports me back to that night in Lake's club and it takes all the restraint I have not to bend her over the bed to do the things I've been fantasizing about for weeks.
Constantly. Like a horned up fourteen year old discovering his first Playboy in the 70s.
She spins around and glances at the imaginary audience over her shoulder with a pout look. I continue watching, waiting for her to notice my arrival. It's not until the music starts to change and I applaud that she notices my presence.
Minka squeaks and jumps in the air. “Pierce! What the hell!” She quickly shuffles out of the room to turn the music off. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“We have a date, remember?”
Peering around the corner, she glares. “And you didn't think to knock!”
“You gave me a key.”
“Right. That doesn't mean you shouldn't knock.” Before I get the chance to rebuttal she snaps in a flustered voice, hands fidgeting with her hair, “I mean that's exactly what it means! I mean..I...shut up!”
I make my way to the edge of the bed and flop down. “Would you just come over here, Diana Ross?”
Still slightly embarrassed or at least that's what I'm assuming by the way she's avoiding eye contact, Minka migrates towards me. “I can't believe you didn't say something sooner...”
When she's within grabbing distance, I pull her into my lap, and smirk. “And miss the performance? I think Scott should give you a couple of his Grammys.”
She wraps her arms around my neck. “I like you less and less.”
“Really? Because I like you more and more.” She pins me with another playful stare. “Seeing you rock the mic like that actually turned me on.”
Her hips grind against my crotch causing me to helplessly moan. “I can feel that.”
My hands slide around to give her jean covered ass a firm grip.
Minka lowers her lips down to my neck where she gives it a long, hard suck. In a heated voice she inquires, “What do you say we skip our planned showing and catch the next one?”
Like I would ever deny anything she requested. Woman would probably have me streaking in a rainbow clown wig if it would bring her even a smidgen of happiness.
Her fingers run up the back of my hair and give it a tug, which causes me to groan again. “And uh...uh...do um...what exactly?”
Suddenly her tongue teases my earlobe. “How about I try to rock another mic?”
I swallow hard at the implication.
While we've been fooling around like first timers, I've been a little selfish. Instead of an equal back and forth situation, I've taken the liberty of stealing as many orgasms from her as possible as many times a day as she'll allow. Don't get me wrong. I fucking love the feeling of her hands on my body, but the minute they are the only thing I want is to bury my cock to the brink inside of her. Which is...not an option just yet. Sure we've spent the last month and half on the phone getting to know each other but it's not the same as spending time with someone in person. I don't have a problem with jumping to that step, but I know she's not ready to take it there. I respect her. Like everything else with her. It'll be worth the wait.
Minka's mouth slides over and hungrily devours mine. Having our tongues together fills me with a heady desperation. I grip the back of her head with one hand and squeeze her ass with the other. Instead of fighting for control of the situation, I submit to her, hoping the confidence she was presenting earlier will roll over into this situation.
In a swift motion, Minka pulls away, pushes me slightly backwards and begins to unbuckle my jeans, eyes glued on mine. There's a little struggle to get it undone, which shifts the boldness back to bashful.
“If this were one of your books, baby...would the heroine be nervous?”
“Of course not.” She shakes her head. “All my heroines are bad ass in and out of the bedroom.”
With a crooked grin, I state, “Like you.”
Her bottom lip slips between her teeth. She takes my little self-esteem booster and finishes undoing my belt. I watch from bent elbows as she unbuttons my jeans, seductively slides off of me to tug away my pants and underwear before swallowing me in one motion.
Loudly, I groan, “Goddamn...”
My cock nudges in one slick move towards the back of her throat. Minka's mouth begins an exclusive tour of my member from back to front. She lets her tongue stroll in slow strides, saunter around it in sweltering rolls, before beginning to savagely suck me towards what will be hands down the best orgasm I've ever had in my life.
Collapsing onto my back, I growl even louder. “Minka I'm not gonna last if you keep that shit up...”
For just a brief moment, she frees my cock, which causes me to whimper at the loss. “I don't want you to last.” My mouth flinches to respond when she adds, “I want you to come in my mouth.”
The simple direct sentence twitches my cock only seconds before she returns it to the suction sanctuary. Fervent suck after suck grips my dick until I'm back on the edge of sexual insanity. I shut my eyes tightly and do everything I can to not crumble like a cookie in the hands of a small child.
; One sh-sh-shturkey. T..t..tw...ooo....
My resistance only makes Minka's pursuit more ferocious.
Her tongue swirls around the tip teasingly before bobbing back down to finally break me.
In a slew of curses and groans, I come in blazing bursts so hot and hard, I see spots.
What the fuck? Am I in a cartoon now?
I'm not sure how much time passes by before Minka says, “Are you alive?”
“Barely,” I grunt, too exhausted to even lift my head.
There's a giggle, a shift of weight on top of me, and finally a soft kiss on my lips. The sensual pressure is welcomed with another moan. “Was it that bad you can't even look me in the eyes?”
“Bad?” My eyes pop open. “Are you shitting me? Did you not just witness the whole...coming...thing?” The minute the question is out of my mouth, I croak, “You...you swallowed?”
She tilts her head at me. “Is that what you're supposed to do?”
It would be totally fucked up if I said yes, wouldn't it?
“I just assumed that was what I was supposed to do. I've given like three of those in a life time and they never lasted that long and they always made me pull away before we even got that point and-”
“Minka,” I hush her. “Don't take this wrong way, but post blow job with me isn't the ideal time to talk about blow jobs with ex-boyfriends.”
“Sorry,” she sheepishly apologizes. “You're right. I...I...I'm so bad with all this stuff. I'm surprised I even got you off.”
Seeing her insecurities creeping back up, I gently stroke her sides, and offer her a soft smile. “Nottie, let me start by saying, you're not bad at any of this. In fact you're so fucking unbelievable, it's taking the will power of a thousand men to keep me from rushing things.”
One hand covers her mouth to catch a snicker.
“Second of all, you know you're adorable when you're a babbling mess, but you're sexy as shit when you've got a little confidence in you too. I like seeing both sides of you, Minka. Don't let some assholes in the past keep you from shining bright in the future. Okay?”
She lowers her hand slowly and nods. “Okay.”
“And...if it'll make you feel better, I'm willing to let you continue to practice giving me head as many times a day as you want,” I teasingly add. “Whatever makes you feel better.”
My girlfriend chuckles and playfully swats at my chest.
“Oh! What! I'm a giver...”
“Gave me something,” she counters and smacks her mouth. “Does it always taste...that way?”
Adorable. Oddly adorable...
Laughing, I answer, “I've never tasted my own, so I can't actually answer that.”
Fluster fills her expression once more causing her to pop me the chest for a second time. “You know what, I'm gonna go put a top on-”
“No. Don't do that. The hitting was punishment enough.”
She shakes her head and crawls off of me. “Double check the time. We might still make it.”
After I quickly get dressed and Minka puts on a Snoopy t-shirt, we hustle out to the SUV to head for the movie I bought tickets to on the way over. During the short car ride, the two of us rock out duet style to Bohemian Rhapsody.
What's with that look? Like you've never sang along to it with someone else? Who honestly hasn't rocked a little classic Queen in the car?
I slide my sunglasses on before we get out of the car. The accessory may not be necessary as the evening sun is fading, but it keeps the focus off of my face, which is exactly what I need in a crowded area.
Dropping my arm around her shoulder, I say, “You know, I can't remember the last time I went to the movies.”
“Really? What kinda stuff did you take your other girlfriends to do?”
We enter the building as I answer. “Wine tastings. Sushi bars. Nightclubs.”
“Sushi bars?” Minka squeaks. “What the hell is a sushi bar? Do they put fish in your shot glasses?”
Her joke makes me chuckle at the same time I swipe my card for the machine to print our tickets.
“And what's with all the wine?” Pulling us the direction of our theater, she mutters, “Is that why famous women are so skinny? Because that's all they drink?”
I shoot her a sarcastic look.
“Right. Alcohol. Calories. Whatever,” she brushes me off. “We're in the top corner.”
My arm drops, so our hands can connect. Minka leads us up the stairs of the first movie eatery I've ever been to. While the entire place looks like your typical theater, there are long tables in front of the seats and servers delivering sodas, beers, and food with enough calories to make me have to start doing two a days on Preston's treadmill.
Again. Why he has one is a mystery. He hates running in place. I, on the other hand, love it. Do it every day at some point.. Even when I'm at Minka's, I slip out for a forty five minute run in the one at her apartment's gym. She hates the gym. Insists her Pilates DVD works just fine. Can't say she's wrong...
In the top corner, we settle and I pull my glasses off, dubbing this situation as safe.
I stretch my arm around the back of Minka's chair. “How often do you come here?”
“Um...let's just say many of the waitresses here know me by name.” She hands me the menu insisting she doesn't need it. “You can read it, but I can give you the rundown much better than that thing can.”
“Oh yeah? Impress me.”
“Fried pickles and cheese here are amazing. The dips, usually cold or too greasy. Chicken everything here, fantastic. Beef anything...” Her mouth makes a gag motion. “Pizza? Hell yes. Wraps? Hell no. Milkshakes, definitely. Cake, never. Fries double down. Salad triple pass.”
Sounds like food Vegas.
A chuckle comes out as I ask, “Do you just hate all vegetables?”
She innocently shrugs. “No.”
“I feel like you do.”
“I feel like you put them on all the wrong things.”
After shaking my head with another smile, I ask, “Do you know anything about their beers?”
“Oh! They brew a good handful of them locally, which I'm told is a good thing? I don't really know anything about them except that chocolate beer does not taste like chocolate.”
“It does.”
“It does not!”
Our waitress appears in front of us and quickly checks our tickets. “My name's Randi and I'll be your server this evening. Have you two been here before?”
Playfully, I announce, “She's a professional.”
“He's from out of town,” Minka says in a similar tone. “So he's a virgin.”
“Not a statement I thought I would hear again.”
Our server giggles and explains to me how the process works.
It's not rocket science. Pick what you want, scribble it on the paper, they bring it out, and if you need anything else once the show starts just put up a flag. Pretty simple.
Minka takes the lead and orders us fried food to gorge on insisting later on we can split the best pizza I've ever had.
Once Randi leaves to grab our drinks, my girlfriend turns to me, and sighs, “It's so weird you don't take girls to the movies. I think movie dates are the only ones I don't screw up.”
My eyebrows lift in question.
“Think about it. They're dark, so when I spill something on my lap, it's harder to see. You have to be quiet so I can't make a rambling mess of myself. And most importantly, I learn everything I need to know about you within two hours.”
“Everything?”
“Everything.”
“Explain...”
“Typically you let the girl choose the movie, right?”
“Right.”
“So, I pick a movie I'm going to enjoy. If we laugh at the same parts, get upset over the same events, or get excited by the same scenes, chances are we are going to get along outside of the dark.”
Nodding at the logic, I agree, “Good test.”
“I think so.” With a s
mile she questions, “What kind of dates do you prefer? Fancy?” Minka tries to say in a bad British accent. “Or laid back?”
“Laid back, but that accent...don't. Just...don't.”
Her face scrunches to a pout. “It wasn't that bad.”
“Terrible,” I correct. “Almost as bad as Preston's Jamaican one.”
“When the hell would he ever need one of those?”
“Fuck if I know. Remind me to make him do it for you when we see him again.”