Obsession Too: Loving An Alpha Male

by S. K. Lessly

  Apparently, not really giving a damn about my sensitivities, Shane just sat there with a blank stare on his face, completely unaffected by my dig.

  I sighed, slightly defeated before I continued, “Again, most times, swimming or lifting would work for me. Likewise, there were times when no amount of swimming or working out could take away the stress or erase the shit I’d done from my memory. I would need a little bit more exertion to calm me down. So, I would grab my phone, go through what I’d like to call, my sea of fish, decide who or what I was in the mood for, and send a text. Once the reply came back, I’d hook my fish and tell him I was on my way. And it goes without saying that if I was dating someone at the time, he would be the fish I’d call. I do have rules. Nevertheless, if I was free to play, play I would do.”

  Okay, let me explain quickly why I think the way that I do. Shane is right about me. I do pick men that are safe. It works for me. No matter what happens between us, there’s no risk of catching feelings. This is why I have my sea of fish. It is a list of men that possess a certain set of skills that I enjoy. These men will never be the total package, and that’s why they were selected. Doing it this way, having a variety, protects me from getting hurt and from being disappointed. So, there it is. I’m not saying that it makes total sense, but it’s been working for me so far. Why mess with perfection, right?

  “I respect that,” I heard Shane say, bringing my focus back to him. “Your sea of fish represents the guys you hook up with when the mood hits you.”

  I nodded and smiled at him. “Yes, you are correct. They come in various shapes, sizes, and talents. And I do mean in all sexual ways. That’s why I refer to them as the sea of fish. And don’t look at me like that. I know for a fact you, Josh, and Malcolm had a similar system when you were single. Does the infamous black book sound familiar to you? Well, it’s the same thing, so don’t judge.”

  “Hey…” He put his hands up again. “I wasn’t judging.”

  I twisted my mouth, but I couldn’t hide the grin that was creeping up.

  He laughed. “Seriously, I was just going to ask you what the selection process entailed. What does a guy need to do in order to spend the night with you? What goes into the decision to respond to one guy and not the other?”

  Still not completely believing he wasn’t judging me, I informed him, “Well, it depends on my mood and if I’m single. Essentially, I’ll respond to the guy that I know will give me what I want. For instance, let’s say that all I wanted was to have someone go down on me. I wouldn’t call Jerry because he sucks at it. But for Deshawn, it’s a craft. These are hypothetical names, of course,” I felt the need to clarify before I went on. “Michael may have a bomb sex game, but his specialty is hitting it from behind. If I feel like being taken that way, then I’d call him.”

  “Wait, wait,” Shane interrupted me. “Are you saying that you don’t have that one guy, a one-shot deal that could satisfy any mood or craving you have? You have to pick the guy based on of what he can do well?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying,” I retorted and then sighed. “Look, at the end of the day, it all comes down to what I feel like getting into. Now the guys on my list are okay in bed, don’t get me wrong. But each one may be stronger than others in certain areas. Well, it all depends on my mood. That’s how I select my fish.”

  Shane frowned as if my words tasted sour in his mouth. “What’s up with your selection process? Granted, we all know that your taste in men sucks. It’s been proven countless times, and that’s no secret. But damn, I’d at least figured you were getting something out of the weak-ass pussies you entertain.”

  “Okay, back the hell up. What do you mean my taste sucks? Besides the branch thing, they’re good, solid, and honorable dudes.”

  “Oh please, Misty, spare me. We all have seen the caliber of men you date. You know they’re weak as hell. They have no personality or presence. Remember that last one? What the hell was his name again?” He looked at me for help, but I kept my mouth shut, fingers crossed. After a second, he abruptly snapped his fingers, grinning at me. “Yeah, he was in the air force, right? He was a senior master chief. What was his name? You remember him, right?”

  Oh, I remembered him and cringed inwardly knowing what he was going to say next. But I hoped he’d forgotten. Hell, I hoped they’d all had forgotten. Sadly, luck wasn’t on my side tonight.

  The story of my damn life.

  I sighed loudly, conceding, “Jermaine.”

  Shane started laughing. “Yeah, that was his name. You brought top gun to dinner at my parents’ house one Sunday, and he was completely dressed in his class-A uniform, ribbons and all. And if my memory serves me correctly, and it does, didn’t he practically piss his pants when Malcolm asked him why had he joined the air force? Do you remember that?”

  I squinted my eyes at him, remembering that night had gone a little differently than what he remembered. “First of all, he was dressed like that because he had just left a meeting. And secondly, if my memory serves me correctly, you three acted like bullies. You practically attacked him.”

  “Oh please! We didn’t attack his candy ass. He was asked a series of simple questions that anyone would ask like his reason for joining the military and what made him pick that sorry-ass branch. We wanted to know why he felt like he wasn’t cut out for anything more challenging. Everyone at the table was wondering the same things we were, but we just happened to be the ones to ask. That’s not attacking someone. It’s actually called casual conversation. And hell, we already knew the answers to our questions, we just expected him to reply in a certain way. We didn’t expect him to cry and run away like a little bitch when shit got hot. Look, at the end of the day, it all boils down to toughness, Gunny, and he lacked it. If anyone gave you shit about being a marine, you’d go off the rails on everyone around you. I’d do the same thing. You know I’m telling the truth.”

  I didn’t reply, but it wasn’t because I was speechless. I had some choice come-back words for his ass. No, I didn’t reply because I was a tad bit distracted. For some crazy reason, I couldn’t stop staring into this man’s eyes. Goodness, he’s fine.

  “See, you don’t have shit to say to that because you know I’m right. But let me ask you this. Have you ever thought of switching up the game a little? Maybe date men outside of the military?”

  My face instantly collapsed. Just hearing him say those words caused my entire body to tense up. My mind was reeling back through a past I wanted to forget.

  “Hell no,” I answered finally, my face pitted in disgust. “I’ve been there, done that, and I don’t want to go back. I prefer to date men that at least know the life, you know?”

  The second those words left my mouth, I wanted to take them back. I noticed Shane’s facial expression relax, and I assumed he was probably thinking about his own situation. He had felt the same as I did. However, things didn’t work out for him. His ex-girlfriend knew his life, but she just didn’t want to live in it. My own tension settled with that realization, and I started to rebuff my earlier statement when Shane, yet again, proved just how clueless I really was.

  He said to me, lowering his voice slightly, “Josh mentioned that you were married before, and that it didn’t end well. Is your ex the reason why you only date within the military? Was he a civilian?”

  “In a nutshell, yes, but I don’t want to get into that or him. Just understand that dating any man outside of the military isn’t an option I want to pursue.”

  “Okay, fair enough, but what about dating outside of your comfort zone? Your selection process is clearly not working for you. What about dating someone outside of your race. Have you tried it?”

  I shook my head and smirked, deciding to put his ass on the hot seat. “No, I haven’t actually. Have you?”

  Without hesitation, he simply said, “Yes, I have.”

  I paused, my smirk frozen on my face, but my eyes were the size of plates.

  “Why does that sho
ck you, Misty? Yes, I’ve dated outside of my race, and before you ask, yes that does include black women. My dick’s not racist, and pussy is pussy. It comes in all shapes and sizes and it doesn’t matter the color of a woman’s skin for me. I’m not gonna lie and say she doesn’t have to be attractive, because she does. What matters the most to me though is, what’s inside and what she’s made of. And also, let me add, because I know you’re about to go there, no race of woman has the best pussy either. I’ve had great and I’ve had horrible, and it had nothing to do with the color of their skin.”

  I was stunned into silence. I just gawked at him, mouth agape, and words unable to form on my knotted tongue.

  “Would you mind explaining what that shocked look is for?” he asked me.

  I had to gather moisture in my mouth in order for it to work. “Well, I’m sorry, Cooper. I just didn’t think you found anyone else other than Tinker Bell attractive.”

  “What?”

  “All I have ever seen you Cooper boys date are white women, Josh being the exception when he met Sweets. But before that, I never thought either of you had dated outside of your race or even found other races attractive. Just look at the stellar selection you and Malcolm recently picked. You two chose the two most Barbie-looking chicks ever.”

  FYI: I can’t stand Malibu Barbie or Vintage Barbie, better known as Casey, Shane’s ex, and Malcolm’s, girlfriend, whatsherface. My hate for them boils my blood. I want to pull out my gun and shoot them both to save the world from their existence or at least save myself. It’s just something about them that gets under my skin. They’re fake, privileged, and had no business with a Cooper man. I can’t begin to tell you how thrilled I am that Malibu Barbie is out of the picture. I just have to figure out how to get rid of the other one. I’m not sure how that’s going to work because Malcolm would drink Vintage Barbie’s bath water if she’d ask him to. But if there was a will, there was certainly a way.

  “And as far as dating outside of my race is concerned,” I continued. “I’m not against it. If a white guy, Asian, Middle Eastern, or other approached me and asked me out, I’d say yes. Of course, he would have to come with some game and be hella good-looking before I would even consider it. But I wouldn’t outright say no. I just haven’t been approached by any, so…”

  Shane was quiet for a minute, just staring at me. Maybe he was analyzing or dissecting my words for any false truths. Who knew? Hell, I couldn’t tell. But what gave me pause and put my nerves on high alert was the fire I saw igniting in his eyes. Then Shane completely turned to face me, throwing his leg over the chair and placing both feet on the patio floor. A sly grin creased his face as he rested his forearms on his thighs, clasped his fingers together, and leaned forward slightly. The sly grin next expanded into this mischievous look, and I immediately heard warning bells chiming in my head.

  “Okay, so you say that a man has to have game when he approaches you. How much game does he need? I can’t imagine it’s as easy as walking up to you, whispering some shit in your ear like how beautiful you are, and boom! You give him your number.”

  My eyebrows furrowed, a little indignation filling my voice. “Um, no. I’m not that easy nor am I shallow or needy for some man to give me a compliment on something that obvious. Please! He’ll have to come with a hell of a lot more than that.” I gave Shane my best hard stare to mask how much I was turning to mush from him putting me and beautiful in the same content.

  Does he really think I’m beautiful? I’m pathetic, I know. It’s the alcohol…honestly.

  “Right! I didn’t think so,” he said cutting into my thoughts. “All right, let’s skip the semantics of the chase for argument’s sake. After a guy does whatever he needs to do in order to get in your good graces and you give him your number, what’s next? You two would go out on a date and over time, if he manages not to get axed, you two may take it to the next level. Do I have that right?

  “For the most part, yes,” I answered.

  “But according to you, if this clown you’ve started dating didn’t completely satisfy you in the sex department, instead of cutting him loose, you compartmentalize him. And you’re okay with that?”

  I leaned forward, shaking my head. “No, I’m not okay with that. No woman should be okay with that. I’m just different. It doesn’t matter to me if a guy can perform or not because I know how to get mine. All he has to do is have the right tools, and I can take care of the rest.”

  “Seriously?”

  I nodded. “Yes, seriously. Listen, let me make this simple for your vanilla ass. When I make a decision on a type of fish, to keep the metaphor, I make my way to their place mainly because they’re not coming to mine. Once I get there, there’s no time to waste. We head straight to the bedroom, and I fuck his brains out. That’s all. Look, Cooper, this is the twenty-first century. A woman can’t afford to count on a man to please her. She has to know when and how to take control of her own orgasm. Every woman should know this. It should be mandatory, actually. I mean who better knows your body than you?” I pointed in his direction as I continued to make my point. “I’m sure it’s the same way for men. You like what you like. You know what will get you off and what won’t, right? Same for us. There are too many selfish men out here aimed at getting themselves off, attempting to understand and know what a woman wants, but they don’t know shit.”

  Shane began shaking his head before I finished my thought, so I switched gears a bit.

  “Let me ask you this question. How do you handle a woman when she just needs to fuck? Do you let her take over or are you selfish? If she wants to be on top, do you give her the reigns? How do you handle her when she gets on top? Some men like to hold us by our waist and move us up and down on their joystick, thinking this is a game. They usually concentrate on getting themselves off or taking forever to get us off. They are too hung up on fantasy and not reality. That’s the misconception of men who watch too much porn and are hung up on cinematography, so sad.”

  Shane stared at me blankly for a long moment and blinked a few times before this roar of a laugh erupted from his belly.

  God, how I love his laugh.

  Amused now and probably thoroughly entertained, he looked at me as if he were getting ready to deliver some wisdom. I folded my arms in front of me and waited.

  This should be good.

  “Wow, that was something.” He chuckled, shaking his head.

  He then grew quiet for a spell, which was far too long in my opinion. He wasn’t giving me anything in the expression category either. I couldn’t read him at all. It was that damn special forces training at work. I would say that watching his body language, it had seemed that he had relaxed in the moment. It was as if he were carrying something heavy and just decided to let it go.

  Shane kept his eyes glued to mine and placed just a hint of seriousness in his voice as he spoke. “First, let me make the point I was aiming for a second ago, and then I’ll get to the whole women on top thing. Sound good?”

  I offered my hand to him with my palm up, gesturing that he had the floor.

  “Good. I think you’ve settled for shit when you could’ve had so much more.”

  How clueless am I? I really didn’t see that coming at all.

  I stopped breathing in that second, my whole body paralyzed with something I couldn’t identify. I just knew that the world around me seemed to have come to a complete stop. No sounds of the night filling the air. There were no crickets chirping, no lighting bugs floating around, and no night bird mating calls bellowing through the empty night. Just silence.

  Shane continued, ignoring my reaction completely. “That’s the problem with some women as well. Not most of them, but some. They settle. They believe for some fucking reason that the fool they have in their life, or fools in some cases, are all that they are capable of having. That’s bullshit. Had it ever occurred to you that maybe your expectations are too low? Or that while you’re wrapped up into this whole gotta-be-in-control, Destiny�
��s Child Independent woman shit, that you’re missing out on something that could change your life? No one is saying that you have to let some idiot control your life. What it means is that if you had the right man, you wouldn’t know the difference. He’d know what to do and how to treat you. There wouldn’t be a question of if he could handle you. He would just handle you. Here’s where I’m going with this. You mentioned that you text a guy or call him to set up a booty call, right? Then you get there and you two walk into the bedroom and you fuck his brains out.”

  I nodded my confirmation.

  “Do you leave right after?”

  I nodded again. Seriously, what else did he think I was supposed to do? It was a hook up.

  “Let me ask you another question,” he continued. “When all is said and done, are you satisfied? Your purpose is to decompress some of the time, I’m sure. Therefore, when you leave, can you honestly say that you’ve achieved your goal and have completed your mission?”

  I didn’t have an answer for that. So, I shrugged.

  “What does that mean?” he asked just like I knew he would.

  I was trying to stall until I could figure out what to say, but I didn’t have anything profound so I decided to confess. “I’m satisfied enough. Sex is just a calming mechanism and that’s all. The objective is to let out a little aggression so I can decompress when I get home.”

  He nodded. “That’s exactly why I say that you settle. This is my opinion, and you may call me selfish if you want to. But if a woman calls me to say that she’s coming over to fuck, first and foremost, we’re not going to make it to my bedroom. We’ll fuck the second she crosses the threshold of my home. I’m not wasting time with her. She would find herself pinned against some surface, her clothes ripped off, and her legs wrapped around my waist. No need to be introduced to her pussy, my dick would make his own acquaintance while I’m stroking her long and deep.

  From the gate, I’ll let her know who’s in charge. In my domain, in my world, I decide how I want to pleasure her, because yes, I do know how to pleasure a woman. But more importantly, I’d know what she needed the second I saw her. She may give off the vibe that she needs it slow and easy. Or she may need to have her hair pulled, her body bent over the back of my couch, and her pussy commanded. It makes no difference to me what we do. The result is going to be the same. She would lose her ability to walk and talk.