by Eric Pete
“So if having coffee with a good-looking, thirtyish mother of one instead of a wild night with some eager young twenty-something coeds doesn’t have you in a crabby mood, then what is it?”
“Akhet. I wish I could do something to help him with his record label. I got the feeling they’re a bunch of snakes. Besides, I owe him.”
“What do you owe him for?”
I could have told her about my almost being shot outside The Hole, but I didn’t want to trouble her. I also wanted to avoid any discussions about Kyne, who had been with me then. “Nothing really,” I answered. “Akhet’s my boy and I just want to have his back.”
“Always the savior,” she said, almost as an afterthought.
“Huh?”
“You. You’re always trying to save someone.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked nervously.
“Damsels in distress, shady record companies, single women pregnant with child,” she rattled off without taking a breath. “Y’know . . . you can’t save everyone, Lance.”
“That was low, Val. You know it wasn’t like that with you.”
“You sure?”
“Yes,” I said firmly.
“I’m sorry. I just wonder sometimes why a good man like you would’ve gotten tangled up with me.”
“Because I love you. Shouldn’t that be enough?”
“Yes. But sometimes love isn’t enough.” Her voice trailed off, distantlike.
“Was your calling the wedding off all about me and Renika?” I paused. “Or about you?”
“Funny,” she said, putting her empty cup down. I don’t think she heard my question. “You just don’t know how hard it is to find a truly decent man around here. Growing up seeing my friends and cousins pregnant with a sperm donor, but not a father for their kids. I vowed to never let it happen to me. I was going to be different. I . . . I thought I was better than that, Lance . . . than them.” She let out a nervous laugh.
“Look, you don’t have to . . .”
“Bam. There I went with Robert. Let him fill my head with everything I wanted to hear. Then you came along. My sweet Lance.”
I ran my hands vigorously over my scalp. I tended to do that when I was feeling helpless.
“Did you know my mom and dad cussed me out for not marrying you?”
“No.”
“They weren’t the only ones,” she chuckled. “I’m stubborn like that. Always have been. You’re too good to be true . . . and that worries me.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m looking for a future not a ‘just now.’ ”
“And I want to give you that. Be that future for you . . . and for Bobby.”
“I know you do. It’d be so easy for me to just give in. . . .”
“Then do it. Just say the words, baby.”
“I can’t. I just can’t right now.”
“I understand. I don’t want to . . . but I understand. I’ll be there when you’re ready though.”
“Awww,” she said as she grasped my hands in hers. “I don’t deserve someone like you.”
“I have one question.”
“Yeah?”
“Is all the mess about my past with Renika behind us . . . completely?”
Valerie took a deep breath for a second, as if wrestling with telling me something then broke into a smile. “Yes. Completely.”
“Good. Let’s get outta here.”
I tried talking Valerie into spending the night with me, using the logic that my apartment was closer than her house. I needed that familiar warmth to take the chill out of this cold night. Much to my regret, Valerie denied me this time. She played it safe and had me take her home to dwell with whatever demons had been awakened during our talk.
11
“I thought you’d lost the number.”
“Nah, just a lot of things going on. I just finished a job and made time to call you, so don’t trip.”
“Thanks for squeezing me in.”
“Anything for you, friend.”
“Don’t make promises your dick can’t . . . or won’t keep.”
“I thought you weren’t going to bring that up.”
“That night making you nervous, Lance?”
“Nervous? Me? Puh-leaze!”
“Admit it. You still think about that night. I know I do.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You happy?”
“Ecstatic. You want to go out Saturday? I’ve been back a month and I’m already going stir crazy.”
“I can’t this weekend, Kyne,” I said as I filled out my invoice for the repair job I’d just finished. “I’m painting Mrs. Dumas’ house Saturday with Akhet.”
“Mrs. Dumas? She still alive?”
“You’d know if you kept in touch with her.”
“Why? She never liked me anyway, boy. I remember when you first introduced me to her. She used to say I thought my shit didn’t stank.”
“She was right,” I chuckled.
“Go ahead and pile on the hate train, Lance. See if I break you off ever again.”
“I didn’t ask the first time.”
“True. So, your weekend is taken. Want to do lunch tomorrow?”
After checking my calendar, I paused then said, “Tomorrow is good.”
“Where is this business of yours? I’ll need directions.”
“You’re coming here?”
“I just got a new whip, so I can drive myself for a change. Since I’m in a good mood and missing you, I’ll even spring for the grub. What are you eating?”
“Surprise me.”
I gave Kyne directions from her Warehouse District apartment to my job in Algiers then ended our chat. We would have all of lunch to catch up.
That afternoon, I had to make a trip out to New Orleans East, or “the East” as we called it. I knew this guy, Mr. Bourgeois, who tried unsuccessfully to mentor me back in the day. I wasn’t hearing that noise, but he never forgot me. When I first opened my business, I took out ads in the Louisiana Weekly and the Times-Picayune. One day, just when I thought I might have made a foolish mistake, Mr. Bourgeois showed up at my door. And he wasn’t alone. Turns out Mr. Bourgeois owned a CPA firm in the East and had brought several of his friends in the business community to support me. I was touched that he remembered me, let alone cared enough to come all the way out to Algiers to bring me business. Now whenever Mr. Bourgeois needed software upgrades or repairs to his hardware, I was his man.
Mr. Bourgeois’ CPA firm was located on the corner of Lake Forest Drive and Read Boulevard, directly across the street from the Plaza Mall, in one of the few high-rise buildings in the East. After I made my delivery of a system I had debugged, I planned on dropping in on Akhet who lived nearby in Eastover, a popular gated community for those who could afford it, complete with golf course. Mr. Bourgeois’ familiar combed-back white hair and bushy mustache greeted me as I entered his office. The portrait was always the first thing visitors saw. I smiled as I wondered if anyone had mentioned to him that he looked like a black Mark Twain.
Mr. Bourgeois had stepped out, so I had his secretary Cassandra sign for him. The cute, plump mother of four had been one of the statistics written off by so many as unemployable, but had been given an opportunity by Mr. Bourgeois. As he told it to me, Cassandra was now running the office in his stead and was working on her associate’s degree at night.
A quick stop was all I had planned when I went by Akhet’s crib. I could see his Escalade was fixed. It was parked around back and barely visible as I drove up and stopped near the small water fountain in front. It was two o’clock in the afternoon and he was probably still asleep, I thought.
I pushed the doorbell, which activated the remote camera that only a few people knew existed. I had been there when Akhet had a security service go through his two-story stucco minimansion and rewire the house from top to bottom. When nobody answered, I rang the bell one more time then threw the middle finger up in the direction of the hidden camera. I was checkin
g my watch when I saw someone walking toward the front door.
“Hello.”
“I remember you!” It was one of the girls from Jessica’s, the high yellow one with the green eyes. Water dripped down her legs beneath the towel that wrapped around her small but toned body. Her toned shoulders reminded me of a gymnast. “Sorry. I just got out the Jacuzzi. Want to come inside?”
“Is Akhet . . . AK here?”
“Yeah, he’s . . . um . . . busy right now,” she giggled. I could hear muffled squealing sounds coming from upstairs. “Roxie’s upstairs with him now. I got bored and went for a dip.”
“Yeah, I see,” I said, looking into the deep jade of her eyes. “Could you tell AK I passed by?”
“Come in. Please.” Too pretty, too pretty, I thought as I watched a smile form.
“I guess I can come in . . . for a second. I need to get back to my shop.”
“Oh? What do you do?”
“Computers. I repair them and stuff.” A thud came from upstairs followed by loud screams. Akhet had her in his upstairs bedroom. Most people didn’t know it, but he was paranoid and slept downstairs in a smaller bedroom. The one they were in was used for “entertaining” only. “Is everything okay?” I asked, as the screams got louder.
“That’s just Roxie. She’s a screamer. She’s coming, I’m sure.” I laughed at how nonchalantly she said it. “What’s your name?”
“Lance.”
“I’m Alexis.” She played with her wet hair, twisting it around her finger. I could see the definite impression of a bicep.
“Damn. Do you work out?”
“A little,” she answered with that false bashfulness, the kind where a woman is happy you’ve noticed. “Where’s your friend from last night?”
“At work, I guess,” I answered in a way that told her I wasn’t keeping tabs on Valerie. Funny how a good-looking piece of pussy in front of a brother will make him answer things all strange. “Y’all ladies been here all night?”
“Yeah. He gave us . . . the tour,” she giggled. I knew that Akhet had fucked both of them with that comment. Probably several times. Lucky dog. My ass couldn’t even string together a nursery rhyme if I tried. “We can go up there, y’know . . . check on them ’n’ stuff.”
“Uh . . . nah. I don’t want to throw their groove off.” Stupid, stupid, stupid!
The two of us stood around nervously while the banging and wailing continued. I broke off our game of “invitation and avoidance” by walking to the kitchen to snag something to drink. As I peered inside the fridge, Alexis, who was trailing me, removed the baby blue bath towel from around her. The towel popped to life in her hand as she snapped it up and began blotting her hair dry with it. The only thing now covering her was a skimpy ankle bracelet.
I lost track of what I was looking for in the fridge. Over the open door, I stared at Alexis’ damp naked body as she continued wiping her hair. My dick came screaming to life. I fumbled around trying to grab a can of Coke without looking, but pulled out the Miracle Whip instead.
“Making a sandwich?” she asked teasingly. She watched my eyes lustfully glance over her and smiled at me. The towel fell to the floor.
“Uh . . . nah. I was just moving stuff around to get at the Coke. Got it.”
“Do they have any fruit in there? I’m starved.”
“See for yourself.”
Alexis slid under my arm as I held the refrigerator door. I didn’t move out of her way, but let her brush up against me. As I looked on, my hard-on now noticeable in my pants, she bent completely over, thrusting her bare ass against my bulge.
“Let’s see what they have in here,” she said as she slid open the bottom crisper drawer. My eyes were shut as I now could feel the rhythmic grinding against me. I held on tightly to the door to steady myself. “Aaah, apples. Do you want one?”
“N-no.”
“How about a cherry?”
“Yeah . . . that would be fine.”
“You’re a little late for that. No cherries left,” she said, her head still down in the fridge. I felt one of her hands reach back and unzip my slacks. “I’ll see what else I can find in . . . here.”
I throbbed even more as she pulled me free from my briefs. I wanted to grab her waist and hold on, but still had the can of Coke in my hand. “Found anything?” I asked as I bit my bottom lip, trying desperately to find some self-control at the moment.
“I think I have. Right here,” she said with deep, heavy breaths. I opened my eyes to see the head of my dick rubbing up against her moist pinkish-brown lips and clit that were saying hello to me. Alexis moved her legs out even further and I let go of the door as well as my common sense. I placed my hand on top of her ass and slid up in her.
With her bent completely over into the refrigerator and with me inside her, she hissed, “Mmmm. Yessss.”
Not even into my third stroke, everything went to hell, which may have been the best thing to happen to me. For I could tell this was some of that mind-altering pussy.
“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!”
A startled (and nude) Roxie shrieked as she ran into the kitchen interrupting her produce-searching roommate who I was trying to put through the fridge. Akhet was right behind her and almost ran over her when she stopped suddenly. Alexis heard the uproar and banged her head on one of the racks as she tried to stand, dick still all up in her. Shocked as well, I pulled myself out of her and dropped the can of Coke. It burst open and began spewing soda all over the floor and on my shoes.
“Shit!”
“Fuck!”
“Oh.”
“I see y’all two been introduced. Bwaahahahahaha!”
Akhet laughed uncontrollably for a good five minutes while Roxie tried to apologize to anyone who would listen. I was embarrassed enough and tried to change the subject while I mopped up the spill with Alexis’ bath towel under my shoe.
Everyone went upstairs to put some clothes on. I stayed downstairs even though Alexis had intentions on finishing what we started. Akhet was the first back down. He clicked on the plasma screen TV. Videos were playing on BET. Big surprise, huh?
“In my fridge? Bruh, you know my crib is your crib, but did you have to fuck in my fridge? You know how I feel about my food.” Akhet was enjoying this all at my expense. “I got rooms in this motherfucker, y’know. Try one sometime.”
“Let it go. That just happened.”
“Just happened? Sounds like a bad Eddie Murphy joke. ‘My dick just happened to wind up in her while she was lookin’ for a snack.’ You crack me up.”
“You’re not going to let up, huh?”
“Nope,” he said smugly. “I ain’t mad atcha though. You’re just trying to make up for a serious pussy drought. Did you know Alexis was checking you out at Jessica’s?”
“For real?”
“Yeah. She said you looked like you was whipped, bruh. I guess you showed her. We didn’t mean to interrupt y’all two though. Hell, we didn’t even know you were here.”
“I was in the neighborhood.”
“You coulda called first.”
“I wanted to be like you, man. Crude and rude.”
“Fo’ sho, fo’ sho. Man, you shoulda been here last night.”
“Off the chain?”
“Huh, bruh?” he answered in New Orleans slang. “Those two are gonna be in my next video.”
“Is that how you got them here?”
“Fuck no. I told ’em I had a big dick.”
“From what I saw when you ran in the kitchen with Roxie, you’re a good liar.”
“Alright. Now you ain’t funny.”
12
My day was going way too slow, so I welcomed Kyne when she arrived come lunchtime. I was playing a game of solitaire when the front door alarm chimed. She strutted in with that normal sashay of hers.
“Any problem with my directions?” I asked.
“Nope,” she answered while looking around at the various monitors and keyboards for sale. “So,
this is your business, huh?”
“You got it.” I exited my computer game and walked over to get my hug. She wore a black skirt with knee-length boots of the same color and a revealing lavender blouse.
“Slow day?”
“Very. You’re the second person in here all day today.” She seemed to take amusement from the comment. “Ready for lunch?”
“I thought we’d eat in. That’s okay?”
“Sure. Want to order out? I’ve got a few menus I keep handy.”
“No, I brought lunch with me. It’s out in the car.”
“I know you didn’t cook. You couldn’t microwave a cup of water.”
“Hey, you told me to surprise you,” she laughed. “Scared?”
Rather than answer her, I just smirked and said, “Let’s see this car of yours.”
“It’s really nothing special,” she said, rolling her eyes at my enthusiasm over her car instead of her cooking skill. “I need to go out there anyway to get our lunch. C’mon.”
I posted the OUT TO LUNCH sign on the front door and followed Kyne out to the parking lot. She had parked by the Chuck E. Cheese and walked down to where my shop was in the shopping center. Amidst all the minivans, the brand-new silver Mercedes CLK caught my eye.
“Nothing special?”
“It’s just a car,” she said as she flipped me the key to have a look see. “My friend is the manager at the Mercedes dealership.”
“Wait. Not the brother that picked you up from my place?”
“That would be the one.”
“But he’s not driving anything as fly as this.”
“That’s his problem.”
“You haven’t lost your touch,” I said with a mischievous grin. I already knew who was paying the note on it.
“Ready to eat?”
“Sure.”
Kyne reached into the car and pulled a plastic grocery bag from behind the seat. “Let’s go back inside.”
“Whatever you got for lunch, I hope it’s hot already. I don’t have a microwave here.”