by Jai Amor
Pamela heard the door close as she curled into the fetal position. She didn’t know how to feel about Bryan anymore. Didn’t know whether she loved him. He himself told her that she was just eighteen and didn’t know what love was. Maybe he was right.
She laid there in bed, sneezing off rounds occasionally. She made a mental note to visit the clinic soon and an allergist.
Her stomach growled, and she headed into the kitchen. Although the fridge was full, like a typical teenager, she told herself there was nothing to eat and she called Lila over. “Bring some Chinese,” she told her. “And movies.”
“Aww, Mela, are you sick, girl?”
“Nah. My body just decided that after eighteen years it needed some allergies.”
“Alright. I’m on my way. Hey, have you talked to Jae lately?”
“No. But her father came over. They’re going to the movies.”
“Aw, he came to check on his sick wittle employee?”
“You ‘bout to get the end button.”
Lila laughed. “I’m going to the Chinese place now. I’ll see you in fifteen. Bye trick.”
The girls hung up, and Pamela went to take a quick shower. She pulled on some cotton pajamas and tied her hair in a ponytail. She made sure everything was clean and got her DVD player ready.
Lila showed up with orange chicken, shrimp fried rice, and eggrolls. Mela’s stomach growled. “Girl, you hungry. Here.” Lila shoved the food bag at her friend and made her way to the DVD player.
She went to plop on the couch as Lila put in Lady and the Tramp, Pamela’s ultimate favorite movie. Then they sat there on the couch, Pamela, eating with a plastic fork, and Lila eating with her chopsticks.
Lila’s phone rang right at the end, and she smiled goofily as she went to answer in the kitchen. When she came back, Pamela was waiting for an answer. “What’s his name?”
“His name is Juan. He’s Mexican.”
“Girl, what did I tell you about them Mexicans? What you need to do is find you some Boricua dick.” Pamela grinded against the air and Lila laughed at her.
“I thought you were Dominican.”
“My daddy is Dominican. I am what my mother is: Boricua. I claim both when I am asked.”
Lila shook her head at this girl. “I wonder about you sometimes. I used to think you and Jae had black daddies.”
Pamela laughed, making her way to her room. “They are black. Afro-Latino. I got some black up in me!”
“Girl, bye. What you doin’?”
“Let’s get tattoos,” Pamela called, pulling on a white tee.
Lila looked down at her skin. She already had about six tattoos. She pulled out her wallet. She had a few hundred on her. “Let’s go for it, ma,” she agreed. “Whose car?”
“Yours.”
“Cool.”
The girls hopped into Lila’s truck, and Lila turned her radio all the way up as Wifey by Next played. Pamela danced in her seat, singing along. Lila took Pamela to the shop where she went to get every one of her tattoos.
When Peaches and Cream by 112 came on, Pamela wished she was at home. She wanted to dance for real. She turned up the volume on Lila’s iPod. The music was so loud, it was uncomfortable. Just the way they liked it.
Lila turned the music down as she got ready to park. If she left it up, it would hurt when she started her car. Volume had to be increased gradually.
The girls walked into the tattoo shop, and Pamela noticed that the woman manning the counter was tatted up and pierced out. She had fang bites, a bull ring, a tongue ring, a belly ring in her exposed stomach; and she had tattoo sleeves, a few tattoos on her stomach, a few more on her titties, and the shoulder piercings. But she was cute with her black hair up in a sloppy pony.
“Back for more?” she asked Lila, a little smirk on her full pink lips.
“I brought you a new victim. No tats, two piercings.”
“Hi,” Pamela said, sounding like the perky cheerleader she was. The tattooist stepped back a bit.
“Please tone that down. How can I help you today, little lady?”
Pamela shrugged, looking in the little catalogue. She saw something that interested her, but she didn’t want it exactly. “Can I get a melting heart on my boob?” she wondered. “This one.” She cupped her left breast. “I want it to say Mela-Chula inside. Mela has only one L and Chula is spelled C-H-U-L-A.”
“Chula? What is that?”
“It’s like… Hot. Basically.”
The tattooist just raised her brows. “Sit down. Take your shirt off.”
Pamela checked to make sure she was at least wearing a bra first. She’d been going without a few days, but she did manage to put one on; so she took her shirt off and sat on the stool. The tattoo took about an hour, and she came out of pocket only thirty dollars. She already wanted another, so got it on her wrist. It was a charm bracelet design. Her “charms” were a little heart, a pair of lips, and a POT for Pamela Olivia Torres.
Lila got a tattoo on her foot of a lily. She hated that it was her name, but she was sure her mom would like it. She told everyone to call her Lila. Even the parents who named her. Her parents continued with the Lily, though. It was her name.
The girls left, and Lila’s mother called. She rolled her eyes. “Damn this chick won’t leave me alone.”
“If you moved out, she wouldn’t control your every move.”
“Need a roommate?” Lila joked.
“Hey, if you put half on the rent, I wouldn’t mind it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll think it over.” Lila pressed TALK. “Hello Mother-Dear.”
Her mother started yelling, and Lila took the phone away from her face and set it down. Pamela was shocked. Lila was the first one to say black mothers would beat the shit out their children. She sure didn’t seem to care now. In fact, this was the first time Pamela could remember ever seeing her girl act like this. “Lily! Got dammit, I know you hear me, say something!”
“Ma, stop trippin’! I said I would replace it.”
“How about—”
“I’m driving, Ma.”
“Good. Drive your ass right home.”
Her mother hung up, and Lila rolled her eyes. “When can I move in?” she asked.
Pamela just shook her head. Lila dropped her off at home and headed back to her own place.
Pamela’s phone began to ring Toni Braxton’s Breathe Again. It was Bryan, and she didn’t care.
If I never feel you in my arms again, if I never feel your tender kiss again
She silenced it. Fuck him. She was sure Bryan called a few more times, but she didn’t touch her phone the rest of the day.
She left the house, because in it, she continued to sneeze. She really needed to see an allergist and then do something about the flat and get rid of whatever the hell she was allergic to.
Pamela was asleep on her couch when there was a banging at her door. Without checking the peephole, she opened up, and there was Bryan. He didn’t look very pleased as he grabbed her. “I have been calling you all day.”
“Okay? You don’t pay my bill. I don’t have to be there every single time you call.”
“Pamela, I’m not playing.”
“I’m not either. What do you want? I said I would see you at work.”
“If you had answered the fucking phone you’d know that we don’t have to go in tomorrow.”
“Oh. Well cool. Get out.”
Bryan stared blankly at Pamela, and she waited for him to leave. But he didn’t. He put his arm around her waist and he looked down at her. “I’m sorry I left you, Pamela.”
“I’m not. I just want you to go home, so I can go back to sleep.”
Her stomach didn’t agree with that idea. She hadn’t eaten since that morning when Lila brought the Chinese food. “Let’s go out for dinner,” Bryan suggested. She snorted.
“That’s okay. I have food here.”
“Come on, Mela—”
<
br /> “Get out, Bryan. I feel like a broken record.”
He still said nothing, just studying her features as she waited for him to leave. He did no such thing. He walked further into the flat and walked into her bedroom. She rolled her eyes and decided to just start dinner. Bryan would leave eventually. He didn’t want to worry Jada, and she could rest assured on that.
She made pork chops and some instant mashed potatoes. She made Bryan a plate but ignored him when he tried making conversation as they sat at the table. He caressed her leg, and she roughly pushed his hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me, Bryan.”
“Damn, what did I do to you?”
She didn’t answer the question again because she’d already answered too many times. After dinner, she went into her room and locked the door, letting Bryan stay on the other side of the door, knocking in vain as she showered. By ten, he’d finally left.
She went out to watch television on her sofa, and her door opened. She hadn’t checked that it was locked. Shit.
Don’t Do That Shit
Pamela sat up on her sofa to see who the hell was just waltzing in, and she was relieved to just see Bryan. “Don’t do that shit, man!” she complained. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”
“I believe you’re quite alright, Pamela,” he told her, closing and locking the door.
She rolled her eyes and turned back to the television set. A commercial was on.
She hadn’t put him out again, although she had half the mind to. But she didn’t let him have sex with her, hold her, or kiss her. She didn’t even let him sleep in her bed with her. So he slept on the couch, and he was there when she woke up, making breakfast.
They sat together, having breakfast, and she finally accepted his apology. They kissed and made up and Bryan told her he wanted to take her to Paris. She wondered if they had to work, and they didn’t. He just wanted to do something nice and romantic for her.
Heather called, and he stepped out of the room. Pamela was too giddy to care that his wife was on the phone. She was going to Paris! Paris, of all places. She went into her room and started to pack up.
Bryan came in and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her close to him. “What are you doing?” he questioned. “Don’t pack. I’ll take you shopping.”
Bryan was quickly going from lover to suga daddy, but Pamela was not complaining. She was receiving incredible sex and getting gifts for it. Oh yeah, life was good.
“Okay,” she said, plopping down on her bed.
Bryan sat beside her and pulled her into his arms. She closed her eyes and breathed in his warm masculine scent although she had been snapping at him only hours ago.
Lila called, and Pamela picked up. “Hello?”
“I’m on my way. I got Jae.”
“Okay.” She hung up. “You gotta go. Lila and Jada are on their way. Go.”
She walked him to the door, and they shared a kiss before he left the condo. Lila and Jada showed up fifteen minutes later after Pamela cleaned up all evidence of a male visitor.
Jada went to turn on the radio, and immediately Tone Tone began to blare out her speakers. The walls were all soundproofed, so Pamela didn’t care how loud the music was.
Got them haters mad ‘cause my trunk beatin’ like it’s masturbatin’
Pamela could never get over that part. She always had to stop dancing and laugh. Her girls ignored her and kept up their hip rolling.
She continued her dancing, and Lila was really getting it.
She shakin’ like she need a coat Pamela sang along, motioning to Lila shaking her ass, and it was sure ample. It made up for her lack of titties. Jada, on the other hand, had sprouted a B overnight and still had no ass.
The next song to play was some shit Lila heard on a visit to her hometown Tampa awhile back called Run It Back by Young AJ.
Lila sang, dancing on Pamela.
“Girl, you gay.”
“Only for you, ma; and Jae.”
Jada ignored both of her friends, still dancing her skinny ass to the music. You’ont wanna drink? Well fuck you den! You’ont wanna smoke? Well fuck you den!
Just then, Lila decided she could use a good high. Her mother was getting on her last fucking nerve. “Move in,” Pamela urged.
“Girl, all her ghetto fabulous ass gon do is bring her drama to yo door and I ain’t trynna put that stress on you.”
Lila sat on the couch and rolled up. Jada tossed her her lighter, but she left the room. She wasn’t a smoker. But Pamela sat right beside her and took the blunt her friend offered. “Why we kick it wit Jada geeky ass again?” Lila joked.
“Because I helped you out of high school, bitch!” Jada called from the kitchen.
The other two girls laughed. That was true. Without Jada, they’d have been short on their math and science credits. Pamela passed the blunt back and sneezed. “Girl, go to the damn doctor,” Lila told her.
“I meant to. I scheduled an appointment, but then—”
“No excuses, bitch. Just go.”
“Alright. Shit.”
Bed by J. Holiday came on while the girls were still smoking, and Pamela hopped her hot little ass up to dance, basically fucking the air. Lila jokingly tossed money at her before Wet the Bed by Chris Brown came on, and Pamela closed her eyes, remembering when Bryan was there with her, singing it and touching her.
She swayed her hips, biting her bottom lip, her hand sliding, sliding… “What the fuck are you doing, trick? You got two bitches up in here. Don’t be getting freaky wit yo ‘self!” Lila said. “I ain’t that fucking high.”
“Girl, if you knew what I knew, you wouldn’t give a fuck about who was in the room.”
“Ooh. Sounds juicy. What’s his name?”
“Anonymous.”
“Fuck kinda name is that?”
Lila screwed up her face and Pamela laughed. She swore this girl could play slow with the best of them.
“As in I’m not telling you, bitch.”
“Well fuck you den. Don’t smoke my shit.”
“Whatever. I got my own stash.”
Jada shook her head from the kitchen. “You two are weed heads!” she called.
“And you’re a fucking nerd. Leave us ‘lone,” Pamela called back.
“Whatever. I’m drinking your grape juice.”
“Get a glass.”
The girls stayed for the entire night. Lila’s mom called her various times, and each time, she replied that she was still at Pamela’s house.
They lounged around now in t-shirts and underwear, being lazy, listening to music. They did manage showers. Pamela even cooked breakfast.
Around five, the music was turned off, and the girls ordered a pizza and turned on Jerseylicious. They fell asleep in various positions in the front room. Jada was in the arm chair, Lila on the couch, and Pamela on the floor. Pamela woke up at midnight and climbed into her bed.
When she woke up in the morning, her girls were still in the front, knocked out. Bryan showed up, and she held her fingers to her lips, motioning to his daughter and their friend. He nodded and led her back to her bedroom.
He kissed her neck, and she let him. He pulled her t-shirt up, his lips on her neck, his breath warm on her flesh. She was going to overheat.
She turned around and kissed him, her bare breasts rubbing against the fabric of his t-shirt. He palmed her ass, their tongues dancing together. She rubbed the nape of his neck, grinding her heat against him as her breathing became harsh.
He lay back, letting her do what she wanted with him. She pulled his t-shirt up, straddling him, kissing him deeper. “I’m sorry,” she finally said.
“Me too.”
He held her around the waist as she tilted her head and kissed him again. He ran his fingers through her soft hair. She kissed his neck as she undid his jeans. Gosh, she was so anxious to get him inside of her.
She pulled him out of his pants and took him into her mouth. He watched her head bob up and down, stroking her hair back
as she moaned. That shit was sexy, and it wouldn’t stop being sexy.
He groaned as Pamela took him deeper in her mouth. He swore he could feel her tonsils, and she was going at it like a pro. She got up and he watched her as she walked into the kitchen, her boy shorts on her round, firm ass like a second skin. Her bare back so smooth.
Lila woke up and saw Pamela practically naked. “Are you going to get dressed?” she asked.
“It’s time for you and Jae to bounce now.”
“Damn, you must got some dick in your room,” Lila said snidely. “We won’t hold up your show. I’m going back to sleep. Do what you do, cowgirl.”
She went back in the room, drinking a glass of water, and he finally noticed her new tattoo.
“When’d you get that?”
“None of your business.” She finished her water.
He cocked his head to the side, standing and walking to her as she locked her door. He put his hands on her waist. “Why is it not my business?”
“You are not my man,” she said simply, seductively, her lips caressing his gently.
“You won’t say that in a minute.”
He leaned down, sucking her neck, leaning down so that his hardened dick met with her waiting pussy. She grew hotter and wetter. He pulled her back to the bed, sucking her titties. She moaned. “Mmm, Papi,” she moaned.
She was aware that her girls might be able to hear, so she refrained from using his name. He slid his fingers into her waiting tunnel. She let out a sigh. It had been awhile. “Don’t stop,” she whispered, holding his head to her breasts.
He kissed her neck, and he flipped her over on the bed, moving to the plane of her stomach, dipping his tongue into her bellybutton before moving lower and dipping his tongue into her dripping cherry. “Oh fuck!” she growled. “Ay Papi! Yes, yes, don’t stop,” she called out, gripping the sheets.
He came up, licking his lips and gently brushing a finger over her clitoris. Kissing her lips, he caressed her side before he put her on all fours and started to pound her ferociously. “Am I your man, Pamela?” he groaned.
“No,” she managed.
She didn’t care how good the dick was. She wasn’t giving him that title back because he was never hers to begin. But he was sure laying the dick down.