The Donor: When Conception Meets Deception

by Brother Dash

  “Hi, Chase," the woman waves with a bold smile.

  She cheeses so hard, it is as if her smile should be followed by a starburst and a PING.

  "Hello, umm I’m sorry…you are?” Chase says.

  “Oh, I'm Evelyn."

  She marches over to Chase, full arm extended, and shakes his hand with a firm grip.

  "Hi Evelyn, it’s a pleasure to meet you. By the way that’s a great handshake,” Chase says.

  "You can thank Dad for that. Ahem, ahem… People form an impression of you in the first fifteen seconds of meeting you, young lady. So make sure your handshake says that you're a woman who’s about her bi’ness,” Evelyn says mimicking the deep gruff of a man’s voice.

  “Her bi’ness?” Chase laughs. “Is that how he really spoke?”

  “Oh yes he did. He said bi’ness not business. My Dad can be…well…let’s just say he can be…extra,” Evelyn says.

  Chase flashes a warm smile with a chuckle.

  “Yeah. I have a best friend that’s like that,” Chase says.

  Andrea leers at the two of them, circles the wine in her glass, and slow sips the sweet liqueur.

  Evelyn is a fireball. She has a big personality for a petite woman. Physically alluring yes, but her outgoing, friendly nature attracts Chase even more which Chase also finds disturbing. He feels like the married man eyeing the hot chick at the end of the bar, and twirling his wedding band.

  "Drink?" Andrea pokes a bottle of ginger beer in Chase’s face. He grabs the wet, frigid bottle and wipes the cold dampness from his palm on his pant leg.

  "No wine for you Chase?" Evelyn says.

  "No, Chase can be a bit of a party pooper sometimes. He likes his non-alcoholic brew. The closest thing he usually gets to alcohol is that ginger beer he's holding. He'll massage that thing all night," Andrea says.

  “Well, I certainly hope that won’t be the only thing he massages," Evelyn says with a sneer towards Andrea.

  Chase raises his eyebrow. Andrea winks and stumbles over to Chase’s ear.

  “Mmm look at that juicy rack. I bet Bob would like to massage those lovely jubblies,” she slobbers.

  “Shush. Stop acting ignorant. You’re drunk Andrea,” he scowls back.

  Evelyn strolls back to the bookcase, grabs her wine glass and sits crosslegged on the couch. Chase stands next to Andrea. Andrea elbows his stomach.

  “Ouch!”

  “Go sit next to her, stupid,” Andrea says in a loud whisper.

  “Evelyn, I’ll be right back sweetie. I've got something in the kitchen for you two," Andrea says and walks out.

  Chase takes a swig of his ginger brew and sits in the chair opposite Evelyn.

  Well, at least she didn't jump out from underneath the furniture like the last cray cray. So far so good.

  "What are you smiling about?" Evelyn says.

  "Smiling? Oh nothing, just you know, um, uh, life…sorta…you know.”

  “Relax Chase. I’m just making conversation,” she says.

  Chase glug-glug-glugs a throat full of cool ginger beer. He hopes the spicy root punch will punt his nervousness away. Evelyn’s lips curl with a glistening smoothness. She slides to the left of the sofa and pats the seat to her right, twice. No movement. She taps two more times.

  “Oh, of course. Silly me, right? Duh, right? Why am I sitting all the way over here right? I mean we’re supposed to be getting to know each other and here I am sitting across from you and—” Chase notices Evelyn’s polite grin tolerating his rambling. He stops talking and pops over next to her.

  “So, you’re a college professor huh?” Evelyn says.

  “Yes. I teach English at Brooklyn Uni—“

  “No, no,” Evelyn places her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t tell me. It helps if we don’t know too many specifics about each other. I mean I’m not a cuckoo bird but you never know with some people.”

  “Ain’t that the truth. So what about yourself? What do you do?” Chase says.

  “I’m a personal trainer and just turned IFBB fitness pro.”

  Chase’s eyes light up.

  “Wow. Really? That’s serious. You have to be in top shape for that. We have that in common. Oh I didn’t mean to sound so immodest. I’m not a pro but I’m into fitness as well.”

  “Yeah I can tell you lift. You see how I haven’t moved my hand from your tricep yet,” she says with a sharp squeeze.

  “Well, it’s obvious you’re taking very good care of your body too. And you have a great energy,” Chase says.

  “Oh so you’ve been checking me out huh?”

  “Well…I mean…not checking checking—“

  Evelyn laughs.

  “Your shyness is cute. And sexy. So tell me about your workout. I can see that you’re doing all the right things,” she says.

  She slides her hand down Chase's forearm. He doesn’t flinch. The glide of another woman’s touch on his lotioned skin is a strange yet comfortable feeling. Maybe this is what Andrea meant. Find something I like.

  “What are you thinking?” Evelyn says screwing a one eyed look at him.

  “Oh. Uh…I was just thinking about your question. My workout.”

  “Hmmm…okay. So tell me about Professor Chase’s big beefcake workout,” she says.

  The common passion of health and fitness sparks a long and enthusiastic conversation. Evelyn rises from the chair to demonstrate exercise techniques that are both new and old to Chase. They segue into other topics such as Evelyn’s expansion into starting an online personal training business, and Chase’s pending promotion to become Chair of the department. There’s a natural ebb and flow to their communication which develops into a connection. They grow comfortable with one another as they trade verbal jabs and play taps. After an hour, Evelyn is so familiar with Chase that she buries her head in his chest when he cracks a joke. They do all of the unnecessary touches and tee-hee-hee’s people do when courting or flirting, or both…even if it’s only for one night.

  "You know this is your third bottle of that ginger beer and you haven't even offered me some?" Evelyn says.

  "Oh damn. Where's my brain let me get you a gl—“ Evelyn grabs the bottle and starts to chug.

  "W-Wait Evelyn it's kind of—“

  COUGH COUGH COUGH

  Evelyn's face contorts from the powerful spice brew.

  "Oh my cough, cough…God. This is really—”

  "Irie?" Chase says.

  Evelyn musters a cough filled laugh.

  "What does a Boston boy know about irie? Brooklyn is probably as far south as you've ever been, city boy," she says.

  "Oh no, no, no. Chase spent some time down in Georgia," Andrea blurts as she waltzes in from the kitchen.

  Chase cuts Andrea a cold stare.

  “Well, aren’t you full of secrets. You never mentioned you had a country side," Evelyn says.

  "I don't have a country side. My Dad was in the military so that’s why I was in Georgia."

  "Military? You never mentioned that to me. Hmph. And I was your fiancée for three years," Andrea says.

  “Wait. Whoa, whoa, whoooa. Hold up. You guys were engaged? You really are full of surprises,” Evelyn says.

  Alcohol has unleashed Andrea’s already unpredictable tongue. Much to Chase’s displeasure.

  "Weren't you supposed to be bringing something?” Chase says through a frozen jaw.

  "Oh yes," Andrea says. She darts back into the kitchen.

  "I'm sorry about Andrea," Chase says.

  "Sorry? Oh don't be. We all have our little secrets I guess. And it's not like we're here to get married. It’s more like the honeymoon without the marriage and the inevitable divorce,” Evelyn says.

  Her comment reminds him of why he’s here. Evelyn cozies up and places her palm on the back of his hand. Her hands are soft and tiny. He slips his digits in and out of hers in a rhythmic and attentive finger massage. Evelyn’s back makes a sudden jerk as she lets out a chorus of giggles.

  "That tickle
s," she says pulling her fingers away.

  "Oh I'm sorry," Chase says.

  "Don't be. But umm. Let's see about…YOU!”

  She pounces on top of Chase straddling her thick and curvy thighs on his hips. She pokes and prods her fingers along his ribs. Chase's laugh filled protests of stop, wait, you’re tick-tick-tickling me, only seem to encourage her. As Chase squirms in the chair Evelyn presses her firm bosom against his torso. He fumbles around her neck and shoulders, his palms graze the front of her v-neck tee revealing the red satin border of her bra. Evelyn shrieks with glee as Chase slides his fingers under her shirt and tickles her six pack abs. They holler and bounce in sensual horseplay.

  "Well ride 'em cowgirl," Andrea says as she twirls an imaginary rope with one hand and carries a tray of hors d’oeuvres in the other.

  “Finger a lady? I mean-HICCUP-Lady Fingers anyone?" she says.

  “Behave yourself Andrea,” Chase says.

  "Boy don't talk to me like I'm your child," she says. "Here stick a finger in your mouth."

  Andrea shoves one of the hors d'oeuvres between Chase’s cheeks. Evelyn laughs.

  "Don't encourage her," Chase mumbles. Evelyn continues to writhe on Chase's lap. She plucks a crumb of the sandwich bread from his goatee and strokes the side of his cheek.

  "Well this is certainly going well," Andrea says.

  “Yeah. We’re getting to know each other. Andrea it’s so cool how you two have remained such good friends. I'd be feeling a certain kind of way to see some woman grinding on top of my ex…in my own living room too?” Evelyn says.

  "Oh please. Girl this ain’t nothing. He once had the nerve to get on one knee and propose to a chick on that spot right there. Uh huh, right th-there,” Andrea says with a wobble.

  "What?" Evelyn says. Both she and Andrea look at Chase.

  “Hey. Th-th-that was—,” Chase says.

  “—L-L-Look at him st-st-stuttering,” Andrea mocks.

  “What took you so long in that kitchen for a bunch of little sandwiches anyway?" he says.

  “Look at him changing the subject. Don’t be so sensitive. See how sensitive he is Evelyn?"

  “Awww, she's just messing with you Chase," Evelyn says. “Come here.”

  She wraps his cheeks in her tiny palms, pulls him close and storms his mouth with her juicy lips. Her kiss is aggressive, commanding and voracious. She has a slick, thick tongue that surprises Chase with its length. The tip of it rings his tonsils. She buries her fingers into his scalp and collapses her bosom into his chest. She surfs her hips on his lap. The sound of their grinding limbs rubbing on the leather seats, their hot breaths, and wet tongue slaps, is like an erotic orchestra. Andrea clears her throat.

  “Um hello? I cleaned my bedroom for a reason you know," she says.

  Evelyn releases her lip lock but her chest continues to dip and surge on him like a tugboat riding a wave.

  ”Hey," Chase says in a soft baritone. ”Why don't we continue this in the room down the hall. You go ahead. It’s the room on the right. Let me just talk to Andrea for a moment," he says.

  “Okay sexy man. Don't take too long."

  Evelyn hops off his lap and grabs a tan canvas bag by the bookcase. He and Andrea watch her bop down the hall towards the bedroom. Once she is out of sight Chase sits up in his chair, elbows on knees, and fingers rubbing his scalp.

  “Andrea, this is really going to happen isn’t it?” he says.

  “Don’t sound so glum. You didn’t seem to be having second thoughts two seconds ago.”

  “I know, I know. It’s just…Argh.”

  "You know most men wouldn't be wasting time flapping their gums when they got some half-naked chick waiting for them in the bedroom."

  "I'm only doing this because—“

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Eugene, Eugene, Eugene. Poor little Chase. Has to go boning women with no strings attached. What a horrible job.”

  Chase pounces from his seat waving a finger at Andrea.

  "You know if you're going to act like a baby. I don’t need to listen to—”

  “A baby? Negro please."

  "Negro?"

  "Oh stop it. A little late to try to get sensitive because the white girl you was screwing for three years just got black on you."

  Chase opens his mouth to protest.

  “Hush,” she says.

  Andrea puts her hand on her hip and points down the hall. Chase pauses. Andrea remains in her go that way stance like a traffic cop at an intersection. Chase inhales, exhales and heads for the bedroom.

  Candles flicker as the scent of patchouli and sage tickle his nose. The room is warm but made temperate by the gentle breeze of the oak ceiling fan. A puffy comforter, embroidered in cranberry and gold, has been turned down on the bed. The faucet is running in the master bath only a few feet away. Chase sits on the edge waiting for Evelyn to come out.

  Okay…just be that Bob guy right now. This is a role. Be an actor like Andrea said. Evelyn’s sweet, smart. And hell…she’s a hottie right? So stop being a wuss.

  The only other sound in the room is the dancehall dub music playlist from Andrea's wireless speaker system. Chase lies back on the bed and closes his eyes to the deep Caribbean bass. Moments later the faucet shuts and the bathroom door creaks open.

  The five foot (and a li’l bit), natural beauty steps onto the ivory alpaca rug. She has changed into a sheer black bra, lace thong, garter, straps and black stockings. Dawn Penn’s dancehall classic, You Don't Love Me, serenades the two lusty strangers. She absorbs the island rhythm into her pores and her limbs morph into tools of seduction. Sensing her presence, Chase lifts himself up on his elbows. His long legs stay planted on the wood floor. Her cocoa brown hips twist, turn and dutty wine. She is his own private reggae dancer. She parts her glossy lips and puckers as she rocks and rolls up to his knees. Chase reaches for her undulating waist. She smacks his hand.

  "No touching," she says with a finger wave.

  She continues to entice and titillate. A clang is heard coming from the kitchen but Chase ignores it as Evelyn kneels, puts her mouth on the bulge of his jeans and slowly unzips his denims with her teeth. Oh My God, he says to himself. As she slides his jeans off, her chin brushes the fabric that constrains his hardening arch. It quivers. Chase’s arousal often sparks his aggressive nature; he grabs for her hair. But Evelyn is sensually assertive as well and smacks his arm away. Chase grunts in frustration. Evelyn smiles like a devil.

  "You are such a tea—“

  “Shhh," she says.

  She opens her mouth and puffs a hot gust of air on his black jockeys. His thickness throbs. His waist bucks. His fingers choke the bed sheet; the heat of her lips do not come with the satisfaction of a tight, wet suction. She pulls away, leaps and mounts. She grinds. And winds. And grinds. She ratchets up the aggression…more power…more winding…over and over and over again. Chase’s arousal is becoming more than he can stand. She presses her lips to his ear. The sensation of his expanding crotch into the thin, slick silk fabric covering her warm flesh, causes her to whisper…“Mmm, well aren’t you a big boy.”

  Chase slaps his palms on the exposed cheeks of her thong and takes control. She attempts to move his hands away but he is too strong. They kiss. Rather…they mouth. Their tongues slap and their lips pop. They grab and pull at each other in a growing frenzy. There’s nothing quite like the first time is it? The tingling newness of a stranger’s hot body. The sweet spice of his Arabian musk oil. Her firm, engorged breasts. The inebriating aroma of the coconut cream and argan oil from her tresses. The famished suckling of his lips on the succulent mahogany mounds of her bosom. They get drunk off of carnal desire.

  Chase and Evelyn fumble with the final barriers of clothing and are oblivious to the sound of an argument emanating from the kitchen. The angry voices grow louder with the pounding of approaching footsteps. A furious ranting stomps nearer and nearer until…

  BOOM!

  The bedroom door flings open. A startled
Chase jumps from on top of Evelyn. She shrieks. The bright light from the hall temporarily blinds them. Chase can only make out the familiar red waves of Andrea's hair in the doorway and that of a short, stumpy figure standing chin high by her side. He squints as his eyes start to adjust. A booming voice however, comes through loud and clear.

  "I know what I said, but bitch I changed my damn mind okay?” the short woman says.

  “I ain’t your bitch and you can't go busting in my bedroom like this," Andrea says.

  "What the—?” Chase squints as he pulls up his underwear.

  Evelyn sits up on the bed. Her polished brown orbs, with their perky Caribbean carob bean tops, stare back at Andrea. She seems comfortable in her nakedness and doesn’t cover up.

  "Ain't nothing going down without me being in here," the angry voice says.

  Chase’s eyes can now discern that the voice belongs to a stocky woman, about Evelyn’s height, in a green Philadelphia Eagles hoodie, light suede construction boots and dark shin length, baggy cargo shorts. They slouch off of her rear to reveal plaid boxers wedged in the booty crack.

  “Andrea? What the hell is going on?” Chase asks.

  "Kabeerah, you're supposed to be in the other room," Evelyn says.

  “You know this person?” Chase says.

  "She was supposed to stay with me in the pantry," Andrea says leering at Kabeerah.

  "Don't side-eye me white girl. I don’t have to stay no goddamn where. I go where my woman goes," Kabeerah says.

  “Excuse me? Your w-w-woman?" Chase says. He turns to Evelyn. "You're gay?"

  "You got a problem with that Mandingo?" Kabeerah says as she takes a step towards Chase. Andrea intervenes.