The Donor: When Conception Meets Deception

by Brother Dash

  Chase’s slides a finger from the nape of her neck to the rising dunes of her derriere. He slips the sheet off and climbs on top. He blankets her back and legs with his full hulking length. The tight ridges of his abs sink into the concave of her spine. His knees sneak between her thighs and splice them apart. He is her quilt. As she lays pinned on her stomach he removes her pillow and nosedives into her curly follicles. Mmmm, the shea nut and cocoa butters with hints of anise, rivet his nostrils; he salivates. His fingers enjoy her silky filaments, as her sleepy breaths go silent. He knows she is awake. He interlocks their ankles. His thickness rises and stiffens on her soft, moist flaps. He taps on the door but does not enter. Sitting up on his knees he pulls her bottom up to his face. He bounces soft lipped pecks from right to left and then left to right on each bulbous cheek. She remains still. He grips her hips, spreads her open and licks her moist center. But Jenae does not utter a sound nor does she shiver or tremble. Even her breaths are mute. Chase takes no notice of these non-reactions and extends the pointed tip of his tongue inside and laps her up like an enthusiastic desert traveler…who has finally discovered an oasis. Chase is lost in his own carnal world assuming he is pleasuring her. She finally speaks.

  “Okay stop,” she says.

  He continues licking and lapping.

  “Chase I said stop.”

  Chase ignores her commands and stabs his tongue deeper. Jenae, on all fours, reaches her arm behind and smacks him. She wriggles away, eyes crossed, mouth gnarled. Chase is dazed. His stupor is more from Jenae’s anger than from the blow.

  “Babe, wh-what’s wrong? Was I too rough? Did I hurt you?”

  He smoothes his hand on her shoulder. Jenae shrinks, pulls her knees to her bare chest and wraps them.

  “Sweetheart. Talk to me. Please. What?…What did I do?”

  Jenae refuses to look at Chase. He cautiously reaches to caress her. Although her skin is warm, her mood is icy. He sighs and waits. He intertwines his fingers in her palm. She raises her head.

  “Who was on the phone Chase?” she says.

  “Babe? What do you mean? What's going on? Talk to me," he says.

  Chase is perplexed. Jenae never questions him and certainly doesn't interrogate him. She snatches her hand away and lies on her side, pulling the covers over her shoulder. In over three years this is a new experience for him.

  “Chase?" she says into the pillow.

  “Yes,” he says.

  "Things are different," she murmurs.

  "What do you mean different?"

  She doesn’t respond.

  “Look babe we’re not having this conversation without facing each other. Turn back over.” Jenae refuses to comply.

  Chase walks over to her side of the bed and crouches. He strokes the curls from her eyes. They are glassy. His heart clenches. He kisses the corners of her sockets and lingers his lips to sip the salty puddles that trickle from them. Her doe eyes flash. Chase plants a tender peck on her forehead and nibbles her nose.

  “Stop, that tickles,” she says softly.

  Chase strokes her temple.

  “Don’t look at me like that, ” she says.

  Chase knows she’s warming up but he is troubled. He wonders…Does she suspect something?

  “Babe, what’s on your mind,” he says.

  She clears her throat, cups his neck, and rubs her thumb against his ear.

  “Last weekend you called me about the faculty dinner when I was at my law conference in D.C. right?"

  "Yes, my promotion to chair of the department. Wait. You weren't happy about that?" Chase says.

  "No, no, it's not that. Of course I'm happy for you. It's just. It's just I had some great news of my own too."

  Chase clutches her shoulder. His face lights up.

  "Great news? Well come on, share, share, share.”

  Jenae gives a a half-smile.

  "Well the senior partners from the firm were at the conference as well," she says.

  “Yes, that makes sense. Your headquarters are in D.C. but where you work, Downtown Brooklyn, is a satellite office right?” Chase says.

  “Not really a satellite just a smaller office. New York focuses on criminal and corporate law and D.C. handles government, class action, civil rights, some corporate. It’s where all of our decision makers are though, yes”.

  “Got it. So tell me about the great news,” he says, shaking the bed.

  “Well, we had a company dinner Saturday night,” she says and sits up. “At least I thought it was a company dinner. But when I got to the restaurant it was just the five founding partners and my boss Bobby the Senior VP. You met him before remember? Christmas party two years ago?"

  Chase looks perplexed.

  “Come on you know Bobby. Bobby bongo you called him?” Jenae says.

  Chase bursts in a fit of laughter.

  "Oh yeah, yeah, yeah. That guy. He got drunk, took off his clothes, and started beating his big ol' pot belly like a drum,” Chase says.

  “Yes him. But completely sober and fully clothed this time,” she says.

  “Okay so you and the big whigs. Keep talking."

  "So after drinks and appetizers we're in the middle of the entree, and that's when Bobby says, Jenae you're probably wondering why it's just the leadership here right?"

  Chase nods for her to continue.

  "Well he proceeds to tell me how valuable I am to the firm, I’m well regarded et cetera, et cetera. He said I really got noticed when popular wisdom at the firm said we should take the plea deals in the Prospect Park Three case. But I stuck to my guns, rejected the D.A.’s offer, and got acquittals for those boys. Apparently, I’ve been on the leadership’s radar ever since. So last weekend they made me an offer. Bobby said, Jenae we want you here in D.C. We want you in senior leadership. We want you as a partner."

  "Oh my God babe that—that’s amazing," Chase says.

  “Yeah, I was surprised and overwhelmed. It's a very high profile position," she says.

  Jenae's face is not one of absolute joy however. And Chase notices.

  "There's a but, isn't there?”

  Jenae looks down and bites her bottom lip.

  “Oh, the distance? My job as a professor in Brooklyn and this new opportunity for you in D.C.?”

  “No, not that. I mean yes that’s something we would have to discuss but that actually isn’t it,” Jenae says.

  Chase thinks for a moment.

  “Aaah, I know. You didn't call to tell me this right when it happened,” Chase says.

  “No, I didn’t. And that's the problem. Why didn't I? Why didn't I want to rush and tell the man that I love, this wonderful news? Why, even now do I hesitate?"

  “Good question,” Chase says stroking her hair. “So…Why?”

  "I don't know Chase. Something seems off. Frankly, ever since the night you proposed. When your friend showed up.”

  Jenae's last line is like an explosion that rattles his ribs. Eugene's arrival has been a festering boil in his storybook life. And now the pus is seeping into Jenae's heart.

  “Honey, I know things have been busy and hectic lately but—“

  "It's not that we’re busy. Why didn't I want to share that news with the man I sleep with, cry with, laugh with? The man I'm going to marry?"

  Chase is at a loss. Did she see something? Overhear something?

  Chase climbs up on the bed and cradles her palms. She turns away. He lifts two fingers to her chin and guides her eyes back to his. She pouts.

  “Shhhh,” he whispers and smoothes his thumb across her puffed bottom lip.

  His soft assurance brings comfort to a troubled soul. He speaks to her not in words but in his touch. His assuring gaze. Chase circles his palm on the back of her neck and reclines her onto the mattress. A powerful, full mouthed smooch accompanies the spreading of her shapely thighs. He wedges himself in between and anchors his fingers into the hearty flesh of her hips. She gasps.

  “God, you’re so strong,” she sa
ys.

  Her breathy tone fuels his rising libido. He grabs the back of her knees and rocks them up to her shoulders. A second gasp. He wants her to feel both his tenderness and his strength. Chase braces himself by gripping the rim of the headboard with one hand; he grapples Jenae’s neck with the other. And squeezes. Her jaw drops. Chase plunges his tongue into her esophagus. He keeps a clutch on her throat. She wriggles under him. He keeps her chained in his grip. Their rapid breaths fire in and out of each other’s nostrils like marathon runners in heat. Her tongue lathers his palate. He snatches his mouth away, and burns a stare of desire. She fixates on him. He plunges again. And snatches away. And plunges. And snatches. The long, wet, fullness of his tongue penetrates and slops the insides of her cheeks. Over and over and over and over again. She moans. The anticipation causes her breasts to swell and their peaks to harden. Her knees hover above her shoulders as her legs spread like the wings of a condor. Chase rises. Her moans turn to growls. She wants him but he still has yet to pierce the tightness of her depths. His stiff stem lingers on top of her velvety moistness. He strokes the slick surface back and forth like she’s a violin and he’s the rigid bow string. The soft, hard rub sends a tingling vibration throughout her body; it is more than she can stand.

  “Now, now,” she says.

  She coils her legs around his waist and digs her nails into his well oiled, muscular glutes. Her voice quivers. He rises up to launch—

  BUZZZZ BUZZZZ

  BUZZZZ BUZZZZ

  Chase hesitates. By reflex he looks for a split second at the phone before returning his gaze to Jenae. But it’s too late. Her glare is menacing.

  “Get off of me,” she says pushing him away.

  BUZZZZ BUZZZZ

  BUZZZZ BUZZZZ

  "Babe wait. Wh-what?” Chase says.

  Jenae elbows Chase in the rib and crawls from up underneath him. He swipes his phone from the nightstand.

  "Look sweetheart, look. I just turned it off,” he says pointing.

  “That's the fourth time your phone has gone off. That’s very unusual for you," she says.

  "What do you mean? This is only the second time this morning," Chase replies.

  "Yeah. This morning. It rang twice overnight," she says.

  Chase has a blank stare.

  “It…it did? I didn’t hear it but—“

  “But I did,” she says.

  "Babe, where's this all coming from? You’ve never acted like this bef—“

  RING RING RING

  RING RING RING

  “The landline now? Really?” she says.

  “Look, I’ll take care of whoever it is that’s calling,” Chase says, reaching for the phone. Jenae snatches the receiver from his hand.

  "Hello," she answers.

  Chase pantomimes a, who? Jenae holds her hand to his face.

  “Excuse me?…How am I? Oh I'm just peachy. Full of joy and happiness, yourself?…Oh that’s sooo good to hear…Oh him? Yeah he's right here…oh, of course you can speak to him. He's been expecting your fifth call."

  Jenae stiff arms the phone to Chase's face. Chase is dumbfounded and speechless.

  "Take the damn phone Chase," she says. ”I'm going in the shower."

  Jenae hops off of the bed and stomps into the bathroom. She closes the door behind her. Chase hears the squeak, squeak of the hot and cold faucets and then the steady spray from the shower head.

  “Argh,” Chase yells.

  Chase? Chase? A tinny voice squeaks from the earpiece.

  “What,” he barks into the receiver.

  "Don't what me? I've been calling and texting you for hours,” the voice says.

  “Andrea? Yeah, I know you’ve been calling. My fiancée has made that quite clear."

  "Don't get mad at me because you can't handle your chick."

  “Andrea, Jenae is pissed. Why are you blowing up my phone anyway?”

  “Yeah, well I wouldn’t have to, if you would’ve just returned my texts,” she says.

  Chase cradles the mouthpiece and hunches next to the window.

  “Andrea, I can’t just jump every time you text me or call me.”

  “Look this isn’t about me. It’s about your Eugene business. If that’s not important to you fine.”

  “Yes it’s important but—“

  “Good. Now listen. We have some stuff to go over. You’ve got another date tonight at my place.”

  His voice lowers to a hush…“Don’t call it a date.”

  “It is what it is. Now listen. We need to go over this so you don't muck it up like you did last time."

  “Like I did? Look I don’t even want to do this.”

  “Look Chase. I’ll give you a trick from when I took theater as an undergrad. What you’ve got to do is get out of your head. Forget about school, Devantay, and especially forget about Jenae. You’ve got to become someone else. Like a character. Don’t even think of yourself as Chase. Think of yourself as…I don’t know…Bob.”

  “Bob? Who the hell is Bob?”

  “Dude work with me here. Call your character by whatever name you want. But in order to make this work you have to find something that’s true to you, Chase. Then you can use that truth to become Bob. That was your problem with the last chick. You didn’t try to find something you actually liked about her, all you could think about was what you disliked.”

  “Right. Because there was just sooo much to like about Miss From Russia With Love.”

  “Focus, Chase. Find something that Chase finds attractive about her and then transfer that to Bob. And become Bob. This way, Bob does all the lovey dovey stuff that Chase is too afraid to do.”

  “That makes absolutely no sense Andrea. You’re basically telling me to find the truth in a lie?”

  “Welcome to Acting 101.”

  Chase puts the phone against his hip and clenches it. He glances over his shoulder at the bathroom door. The shower continues to stream. He brings the phone to his ear.

  “Fine Andrea. Fine. Whatever. I’ll see you tonight.”

  He slams the phone in the charging cradle and grabs his terry cloth robe from the closet door. He walks to the master bath and reaches for the door knob. Steam sifts through the crevice of the slightly open door into the bedroom. He hesitates to go inside. Chase knows he needs to smooth things over with Jenae. But will words be enough?…No…I’ll have to do better. Breakfast. I’ll make her that breakfast we had at the cabin in Vermont. Sweet apple crepes with homemade vanilla whipped cream, eggs Benedict and her favorite matcha green tea.

  He tightens the robe around his waist and bounds downstairs with a proud smile. As he reaches the bottom floor and enters the kitchen, the shower shuts off. The bathroom door creaks all the way open. Chase hadn’t taken notice that it was never completely closed to begin with. Jenae steps out and back into the bedroom. Her amber skin and sable curls should be glistening with moisture. But she is as dry as a parched tongue and her hair is pillow fresh. Not a shower bead anywhere on her body. It is only her eyes that have teared.

  

  The white moon illuminates the dark sky like an evening sun. An old hip-hop song says that this is when the freaks come out. But Andrea’s Brooklyn street is deserted. No freaky deekies. Only a black Cadillac idling for a fare and the bearded Chasidics walking home on the sabbath. In the chill of the night, even life in Gotham’s most populous borough, slows to a silence.

  His wood bottomed soles scrape against the graveled cement as he treks from the subway to the loft. It is the most calm he has felt all day. Jenae was quiet at breakfast. Standoffish in fact. One word responses to his attempts at conversation. French style pancakes and warm apples did not impress her. And Chase did find it odd, that after twenty minutes of her giving him monosyllabic answers, she would all of a sudden fire a question his way:

  “Hey, why don’t we catch a movie tonight?” she said.

  “Oh, I’m sorry babe. I have to stop at the group home for a mentor’s meeting and then link up with T
anaka. He has a DJ gig in the Hamptons tonight. His assistant bailed on him at the last minute so I gotta help my boy, right?”

  As Chase continued to embellish this lie, Jenae reached over the breakfast table and pressed two fingers on his lips silencing him.

  “It's okay Chase…don’t worry about it,” she said.

  And she walked upstairs. Perhaps out of preoccupation with Eugene, or just being clueless, he shrugged off her comment. But when a woman says, It’s okay, and then walks away?…it rarely is.

  Chase reaches the building’s entrance and presses Andrea’s buzzer. No response. He presses again. Still no response. Twice more before he finally texts her. Sixty seconds later…BUZZZZZZ CUH-CLICK. The door unlocks and Chase trots through the lobby and into the waiting elevator. As the lift creaks towards the third floor, the pulsating drone of a nightclub beat grows louder. At the music’s loudest, the elevator jolts to a stop at Andrea’s floor. Chase scrunches his face as if he just got a whiff of raw sewage. Why is she blasting techno? She hates techno. Oh no…please don’t let this be another nut job. Chase lifts the gate and walks out to Andrea’s apartment door. It is already slightly ajar. He pushes the handle and swings the door open. He winces from a sudden thrush of musical wind. Bopping and twirling to the beat in the middle of the living room is the tall, carrot topped Andrea.

  "Well come in already," she says.

  "Huh?" Chase says pointing to his ears.

  “Come," she yells over the music and pulls him inside.

  Andrea dangles a half-filled glass of chardonnay and continues to shimmy to the beat. Feeling saucy, she wedges her body up against Chase and spoons her hips on his waist like the plastic stirrer in a mocha latte.

  “Okay, okay settle down,” he says with a soft push. "I see someone started to turn up already."

  "Don't be silly. You know I don't get drunk…much. We’re just getting to know each other over a little joy juice," Andrea says with a twirl and lick of her lips.

  "We?" Chase says.

  Andrea points toward a young woman leaning her elbow on the bookcase, thumbing the pages of The Fire Next Time. She’s in a pair of snug black jeans, vintage Air Jordans, and a cleavage blaring red tee. She’s short but not teeny-tiny. She stands shoulder high to Chase and that’s with a Pam Grier afro puff. Her colossal bouquet of hair is pushed back from her face with a Trinidadian flag headband. It reveals her flawless, roasted chestnut complexion and a twinkling, cheery smile. She’s also quite cheeky. Both in her round face with dimples begging to be pinched, and in her pinch worthy posterior. Her jeans shrink-wrap her muscular thighs and pronounced calves. Andrea turns the music down and crosses in front of Chase. She drunk whispers, Dayuum in Chase’s ear and winks at the woman’s body.