I thought about this after I climaxed, which didn’t take long, since Eric knew my body and how to please it. I’d climaxed three times already, while he kept trying to reach his pinnacle. After six months of batteries buzzing between my thighs, I needed to nut from the real thing. But now that I had, I didn’t think it was even worth it. I actually pitied myself.
As Eric pounded and grunted, I tried to hold back tears for a minute. He might have thought he was bringing water to my eyes because he was that good, but feeling unworthy was the reason for my sorrow. Where in the hell was my self-esteem right now? As soon as I saw this man on my stoop, I should have slammed the door in his face and told him to never bother me again, but here I was playing booty call and being used yet again by a man who didn’t respect me.
I dropped my head into the sheets as I went on an emotional rollercoaster. One minute I was confident and the next I hated myself. I let the tears soak deep into the fabric of my sheets as Eric continued to pound, probably thinking he was doing me a favor.
“You like that, baby?” he asked.
I didn’t respond. How could I when I felt the way I did? His pounding increased like he was trying to get a reaction out of me. I pulled my head up from the sheets and frowned a bit, and he took this as me enjoying it.
“Oh, you like it, don’t you. I can tell.”
I couldn’t take it anymore. I turned, pushing Eric off of me.
“You want it a different way?” he asked. “You want to get on top,” he said, positioning himself on his back like I was going to climb on top of him. Eric was fine as hell and his body was worthy of the ride, but I couldn’t bring myself to continue.
“No. I want you to leave,” I told him, pulling the crinkled sheet around my body.
“Leave?” he asked, surprised, as his manhood glistened with my juices.
“Yes, leave,” I said, getting up from the bed and putting on my pink silk robe.
“What the hell is wrong with you? Do you see this dick? I haven’t cum yet,” he replied, pointing to his extension.
“And you won’t with me,” I said, tying my robe closed.
“Come on, Vivian.”
“You can beg all you want to, Eric, but I’m not finishing this.”
He climbed from the bed angrily. He snatched his boxers off the floor and attempted to put them on, losing his balance and falling to the floor. I smirked a bit. He didn’t find this funny as he got up from the floor.
“I can’t believe you. You asked me to come over.”
I frowned as I shook my head in disbelief before replying to his statement. “Don’t get it twisted, Eric. You were standing on my stoop. Don’t try to make it look like I begged your ass to come over, because I didn’t. You were the one who just showed up unannounced,” I said, pulling my long hair back in a ponytail.
“You knew what it was going to be when you saw me standing outside your door,” he argued.
“I did, and I got mine, so we are done.”
Eric picked up his blue jeans and shirt from my maple hardwood floors. Each movement was done with irritation.
“I knew it was a mistake messing with you, but I was doing you a favor,” he said.
“Me!”
“Yes, you. I mean, look at you. Who wants to sleep with somebody who looks like you?” he said rudely, scowling at me.
“You, that’s who! How many times have you begged to get all up in this?” I retorted, pointing between my legs. “I know this is good for you to keep coming back for more,” I fired back.
“Please. I didn’t have another honey to get with tonight, so I decided to slum with you,” he dissed.
“This coming from the man who is the biggest whore around. You sleeping with sluts was the demise of our relationship, but I’m the one slumming. If I am, it’s because I’m dealing with your trifling ass.”
“Your weight was the reason I went out and got other pussy. I got tired of you squishing me when you got on top,” Eric said.
“As hard as you’re trying to make this out to be about my weight, I know it’s about you being a damn dog. I let you mentally abuse me for months, but now I know better,” I lied. His words did cut me to the core, but I wouldn’t let him get the satisfaction of knowing it. I told him, “You miss me.”
“Like hell I do.”
“Then why be mad at all? If I were nothing to you, then you wouldn’t be mad. You could leave here and get a nut elsewhere.”
“And I am,” he said, sitting on the side of my bed after searching on his hands and knees for his shoes. He looked up at me.
I knew I touched a nerve. Little did he know he had touched several in me months ago, making me second-guess the person I thought I was; and here he was trying to do it to me again.
“You know what, Eric? This is the last time I submit myself to you. As much as I loved you, having you come in and out of my life isn’t worth it, so hurry up, get your shit, and get the hell out my damn house.” I pointed to my bedroom door.
He stood, straightening his jeans. He reached down in his pockets and felt for his keys, but they weren’t there. He patted both front and back pockets, and still there were no keys. I pointed at my dresser where they sat. He glared at me before walking over and snatching them off.
“Good luck with your weight,” he snarled.
“And good luck with your blue balls,” I retorted, watching Eric walk out of my life again.
The confidence I tried to maintain while he was there instantly diminished like someone letting air out of a balloon. His words had deflated me yet again.
Yes, I’m what you would call voluptuous, or at least that’s what I call myself instead of fat, obese, or just plain huge. Voluptuous sounds so much better, and I see that word as sexy. I’m that, too. I feel that most days, and today was one of them. Skinny skanks might not think so, but that’s okay. They ain’t supposed to think it, because I don’t like holes. I like my poles. They’re jealous of me anyway. They wouldn’t worry about me if they didn’t see me as a threat. I may be five feet five inches, 223 pounds, but I carry it very well. A hundred pounds of that weight is in my breasts, thighs, and behind. My stomach isn’t as flat as I would like, but a few sit-ups would help that.
For the most part of my life, I considered myself to be a confident woman. I didn’t care what people thought of me. I was skinny, about fifteen years ago, weighing 124 pounds; and no, I’m not carrying baby weight. This is the weight of life’s stress, which ended up being diagnosed as depression. Food became my peace, and that peace accumulated onto my body.
It has taken me a long while to accept I have depression. I thought any medication being taken for something mental made you crazy, especially in my family. They drown their issues in food, alcohol, weed, and sex. I have members in my family whose medicine are all four of those things. Yet, when I say I take medication for depression, they look at me like I’m getting ready to pull out a gun and go postal.
Actually, that is a plus for real. The more they think I am crazy, the more they know not to mess with me. Still, I don’t want to be the one they think should be admitted into a rubber room. I’m not crazy. Life made me this way, and I have to wonder at what point things changed for me. I used to be my biggest cheerleader. Now, I am all cheered out. I needed to find that spirit to celebrate myself, but after Eric’s visit, I would find it more difficult to look at myself as valuable at all.
Chapter 5
Phoenix
My house was finally empty, with a few stragglers. I had put up everything that wasn’t toted up out my house from the dinner. These hungry heifers made sure to take plates, but I couldn’t blame them, because I did have an amazing spread. With her attitude still evident, Dawn questioned me on where I was getting my money to be able to afford all this food.
“None-yah,” I told her. First it was Serena, and now her.
“Filet mignon. Cheesecake bites. What you do, rob an upscale restaurant?” Dawn asked.
“No, I pa
id for it with my money,” I stressed, cutting off the chocolate fountain and toting it to my kitchen with Dawn following me.
“You can’t have money and no job, Phoenix,” Dawn said.
“Again, you’re all up in my business. Go home to your man. Use some of those products you purchased on him,” I urged, hoping she would leave me alone. For a split second, I almost called Paige to come into the kitchen, knowing this would irritate the hell out of Dawn and shut her conversation down. As fate would have it, Paige showed up like a champ without me having to call her.
“Girl, you need some help?” she asked, looking at Dawn and rolling her eyes. Here she was, asking to help me when my very own sister didn’t offer to lift a finger. All she was interested in was where my money was coming from. I couldn’t lie; I was happy to see Paige, and the look of disgust on Dawn’s face was enough to make me smirk a little bit. She was busy worried about my money. She needed to be worried about where her future husband was laying his pipe.
“You can if you want. I’m not going to turn it down,” I said, looking at Dawn, who seemed noticeably pissed.
“I’ll help some, but I have to get home and get me a piece. This poon poon ain’t had a dick in me in a week,” Paige boasted.
“Who’s your conquest tonight?” I asked, not thinking as I poured the chocolate out of the fountain into a large container.
“I can’t say,” she said sarcastically.
“You see. That’s the shit I’m talking about,” Dawn blurted, pointing her finger at Paige.
“You talking to me?” Paige asked, putting her hand on her chest.
“Yeah, I’m talking to you. You’ve been saying slick shit all night.”
“Girl, this is a fight you don’t want,” Paige warned.
“Oh, really?” Dawn asked.
“Really! Why you mad?” Paige asked.
“I’m mad because you a whore,” Dawn said, walking closer to Paige.
“If you keep stepping to me like you want some, I’m going to give it to you again,” Paige cautioned.
I thought my sister would heed the warning, but I guess the bad blood between them two was worse than I imagined.
“Bitch, I will whoop your. . .” Dawn said, not finishing her sentence as she went over to Paige and swung on her. Paige retaliated by punching her back, and before I could get to them good, they were fighting. I dropped the fountain, spilling some of the chocolate all over my counter. Trying to break them up, I ended up between them. Paige was reaching over me and punching Dawn in the back of the head as she held a handful of her long hair.
“Let her go, Paige,” I yelled.
“Bitch, I told you not to mess with me,” Paige screamed, steady landing punches to my sister’s head.
Shauna and Serena ran into the kitchen and grabbed Paige, who wouldn’t let go of Dawn’s hair. I turned and grabbed Paige’s hand to pry her fingers from my sister’s hair. One by one I struggled to lift her fingers as she jerked with all her might to rip Dawn’s hair from her skull. Once her grip was released, Dawn stood pushing her hair away from her face. I jumped in front of Dawn, pushing her away from Paige, because she looked like she was going to go in for some more.
“Stop it,” Shauna yelled.
“She shouldn’t have put her hands on me,” Paige said, panting.
“And you shouldn’t have slept with my man,” Dawn shrieked.
“Check your man, not me. If you had any type of common sense you would see that, but nooooo, you want to play dumb wifey, thinking you can punk me. But you wrong, trick. Your ass got played. Jump again and I will whoop that ass again,” Paige threatened.
Dawn breathed heavily as she defiantly scowled at Paige with so much rage. My sister knew Paige was right, but she would never admit it. Corey was the one who needed to be checked for real. Paige wasn’t the only woman he had slept with during their relationship together. Her man was a dog, and I knew he would sleep around on her again. Why wouldn’t he? Dawn always took him back. You teach a man how to treat you, and Corey knew he could treat Dawn like crap and she would be dumb enough to deal with it.
“I’m leaving,” Dawn said, pulling her mangled hair back in a ponytail. “Come on, Shauna and Serena,” she yelled.
Both my sisters looked at me. Shauna shook her head.
“She’s yelling at me like I slept with her man. I don’t want him,” Serena quipped.
“I’m getting pissed off now. They done made me lose my buzz,” Shauna said, walking out of the kitchen behind Dawn with Serena following her.
I couldn’t help but laugh at them.
“I’m sorry, Phoenix. I didn’t mean to be fighting up in your house like this, but you know me. I don’t care where I am; if someone wants to check me, then we going to handle the damn thing wherever,” Paige said, fixing her clothes, which were hardly messed up since she was in control of the fight.
“I understand. And I’m sorry for my sister’s behavior.”
“You can’t help who your blood is. I’m glad you are not like her. Talk about total opposites,” Paige said. She ain’t never lied.
Dawn was somewhat quiet, so to see her get bold and jump knowing she couldn’t fight, from what I could see, was another side of her I hadn’t seen before. It was almost like she was homie.
She isn’t into clothes like me or trying to look her best at all times. For goodness’ sake, she came over here in a jogging suit tonight. Don’t get me wrong; a jogging suit is great for leisure around the house or running to the store or gym type thing, but not for gatherings. If she was going to wear a jogging suit, she could have at least put on a cute one. The one she was wearing was too oversized for her body and didn’t hug her nice body at all, and it was an ugly pea green color that made me think of throwup for some reason.
As gloomy as she looked, I was waiting for her to pull that hood over her head and call it a night. She should fix herself up sometimes. She used to dress. I didn’t know what had happened. Well, I did know. Corey happened. Ever since she’d been with him, Dawn had lost her own identity. She had been too busy playing private eye investigating what the hell Corey was doing. I used to feel sorry for her, but now I didn’t. You make your bed, you lie in it, and she was lying beside a cheating dog. She was way too pretty for him. She could get any man she wanted, yet she chose this punk.
There was no excuse why Dawn should settle for the life she had. Dawn has a shape with just a tad bit more weight than me, but it is in the right places. Her skin tone is like mine, caramel but lighter. She has the best hair out of all of us, taking it from our great-grandmother. It is long and silky.
I love my sister dearly, but we don’t get along that well. We tolerate each other because we’re siblings. I always wished our relationship would get better, but as long as she was in denial about herself and her relationship, our relationship would remain like it was: tolerable. I knew after this episode with Paige, any type of rapport we had may be severed, just for the simple fact I was friends with the enemy.
Chapter 6
Dawn
Two things went wrong tonight. One was going to the sex party at all, and two was the fact that I trusted my sister, who knew my situation but still was selfish enough to invite the enemy. How shocked was I to see my nemesis, Paige, already there laughing with the woman next to her? My blood instantly began to boil.
How could Phoenix do me like this? She should have known only one of us should be there, and that one should’ve been me. When I found my seat with a tipsy Shauna behind me, Vivian spoke, giving me the look like, “Are you okay?” I stretched my eyes, letting her know I wasn’t. My night went from sugar to shit real quick. I’m not sure everyone in the room knew the beef Paige and I had, but I didn’t like being there with the ones who did know. Some women were giving me the eye, looking back and forth between me and Paige. I almost told them, “Either say something or get out my face.”
Then when Paige and I made eye contact, she gave me this smirk like, “Yeah, I sl
ept with your man. What are you going to do about it?” I wanted to run across that room and snatch that blond hair out of her head. I glanced over at Vivian, who sensed my anger. She held her hand out flat and lowered it to let me know to calm down. That was easier said than done.
That lady showing us toys reminded me of the sex Paige had with my man. Oh, and the damn banana down the throat thing was icing on top of an already rotten cake. Paige made sure to demonstrate in great detail how to force a banana down her throat. I wished she would have choked on it.
The entire night my irritation was building, until I lost it on Paige. I would do it again if she thought every time I saw her she could drop little innuendos about my man. I was surprised Phoenix intervened, but the worst part of the whole situation was my sister seemed to be on Paige’s side and not mine.
Still steaming at the altercation between me and Paige, I roared into the garage of my two-story colonial, hitting the button to let the garage doors down. I sat in my car for a minute trying to gather myself. The harder I tried to calm down, the angrier I got. Picking up my purse from the passenger seat, I got out and stormed into the house, slamming the door closed.
Corey walked into the kitchen as I was taking off the jacket to my jogging suit. “How was the party?” he asked.
I thought that was stupid, because Corey should have recognized I was distraught. The slamming of the door should have clued him in along with the frown lines in my forehead. I guessed he was too busy trying to be cute dressed in black slacks and a black striped collared shirt.
“The party was terrible,” I belted.
“Why? I thought all sex toy parties were supposed to be exciting,” Corey said.
The Johnson Sisters Page 4