Full Figured 5

by Brenda Hampton

  After we were seated in the restaurant, he really talked to my soul and he listened to me. He wanted to hear what I had to say. He made me feel as if I were the only one in the room. I felt so special.

  “Malika, I want to know all about you. I know you are married. How’s that? Are you happy?”

  Initially, I wasn’t going to discuss my marriage, but changed my mind. “My marriage is fine. But anything could always become better. I’m happy. What about you? Are you happy?”

  “Yes. But like it or not, sometimes to keep your marriage stimulated you have to provide a stimuli. You understand what I’m saying?”

  “No, tell me more. I’m not sure I understand where you’re going.”

  “Where do you want me to go?”

  Just as I was about to answer, the waiter walked up. I gave my order and waited as Travis spoke to the waiter. We both ordered the baked chicken entrees with salads.

  The Lemp Mansion had a unique story of its own. It was a story about a wealthy family from St. Louis in which all its members committed suicide. Unbelievable but true! They were rich people who couldn’t find a way to live happily. If only I had that money, I would have done things differently.

  The Lemp family once lived in this mansion. The new owners turned it into a museum and allowed people to take a tour of the entire house. You could see the rooms where some of the members in the family killed themselves. Supposedly, there was still blood on the wall in one of the rooms.

  “Sir, while we prepare your lunch please feel free to take our tour of the mansion,” the waiter said as he wrote down the orders. “Once you return I’ll bring out your lunch. Enjoy yourself.” He trotted away and we walked through the mansion, touring every room. It was really creepy in that house.

  After the tour, we retreated to the restaurant area and had a great time just chatting. The more time I spent with Travis, the more I really wanted him. He was so attentive and a great talker. I enjoyed how well he spoke. He had a great command of the English language. I was falling for him, but not for his heart. I wanted his body. I wanted to lie in his arms and listen to him talk to me.

  When we’d returned to the table, his phone buzzed and he took a call. While I sat there, listening to him talk, I imagined his tongue on every part of my body. I wished I could close my eyes. I felt so sexy.

  “Malika, where was I?” he asked as he completed his call.

  “You were telling me about a deal you made with a large federal agency.”

  “Yes, indeed. It’s going to bring me a lot of business and I’ll have to hire some more people.” His eyes were beaming, and the words were tumbling out of his mouth with excitement. The more excited he became, the more I wanted to fuck him.

  I moved my knee closer to his and gently caressed it against his. I imagined myself taking him by the hand and walking him to one of those empty bedrooms. Not the one with the blood on the walls, but the elegantly decorated one that was near the beautiful white staircase. I saw myself pushing him onto the bed. I wanted to climb on top of him, straddle myself over his chest, and kiss him hard. I wanted him to know that I wanted and needed him inside of me now.

  I unbuckled his belt and pulled his shirt out of his pants. I gently massaged his chest. Then I seductively licked and sucked his nipples, making them hard as pebbles. His breathing became rapid. His chest heaved in and out. Sliding my hands into his pants, I stroked his penis. Travis was lying on his back. He reached up and massaged my breasts. He raised his head to kiss my neck and nipples. “Let me put it in you, Malika, I want you so bad!” I wouldn’t have that yet, so I continued teasing him with my hands and mouth. I wanted to fuck him until he couldn’t fuck anymore, but not just yet. I wanted him to remember this day. When he thought about me, I wanted his dick to become hard regardless of where he was.

  So I slipped his penis out and sucked and licked it until it almost burst. At that moment, I was thinking how could people kill themselves in this room when they had so much to live for? Then I released his penis and quickly put it back in toward the back of my throat. Travis began moaning. “Oh, baby, I need you.” He was trying to pull me off, because he wanted desperately to be inside of me. I guess with someone’s dick in your mouth, you can’t feel anything but close. That man pulled me off him and tore my underwear off. He lifted my leg up and entered me in one forceful thrust. Rhythmically moving in and out of me had both of us moaning as he was stroking my pussy like a painter stroked his canvas, with long straight up and down strokes. I did something that I had never done before. I came twice. I actually had two mind-blowing orgasms. Once he released himself in me, we heard a knock at the door. “Are you guys okay?”

  It was the tour guide we had lost at the beginning of the tour. “The door is stuck,” I said as we put ourselves back together. We quickly smoothed out the bed and I used my fingers to brush through my hair. I found my torn panties and slipped them into my purse. We waited until the tour guide rescued us. That was the best sex I had imagined since that day in my office.

  I must have been looking strange because Travis asked, “Are you okay?” He had to ask me several times, because I was a goner.

  “I’m sorry, did you say something?” I asked.

  “Yes. Are you okay? I was talking to you and you blanked out on me. You were moaning.”

  “I’m sorry. I was thinking about the Lemp family tragedy. Moaning, no, I wasn’t.”

  “I thought I heard you moaning. Maybe I was mistaken. It’s a trip hearing about how their entire family killed themselves.”

  “They had to be depressed,” I said as I pressed my thighs together to stop the throbbing.

  “Depression must run in families,” he replied.

  “I guess so, but I really don’t know much about that.”

  We continued to eat and talked about everything. As we finished our meals, it became very quiet.

  Travis looked at me and winked his eye. Giggling, I bent my head down to hide my big ol’ smile. When I looked up I found that we were staring into each other’s eyes. It was a very intimate moment that felt so right. But as usual, he must have remembered that this was not a date because he shifted his eyes as if he was looking over my head and his tone changed from sexy to businesslike. “Did you enjoy your food?”

  “Yes, it was wonderful. Thank you so much for getting me out of the office.” I wanted to tell him that it was not the food that was wonderful, but my imagination. Just spending time with him had made me a victim of my imagination and him the object of my daydreams.

  “My pleasure. I enjoyed your company,” Travis stated. As we walked back to the car, we continued to talk. We talked all the way from the south side to North County. When we arrived at the office, we sat in the car and talked for thirty more minutes. As we walked into the building, we continued to talk for an additional thirty minutes in the hall. We spent over four hours together, just talking. We sat on the brick bench near the elevator. His shoulder touched mine and his hand lingered on my thigh. I leaned into him to respond to his touches. I wanted him to know it was okay. I half listened to him and thought about our situation.

  If he didn’t like me or find me attractive, why did I feel like he was dating me? I sometimes felt as if he was playing with my feelings, and that was wrong. Why would he do that to me? Was he like these other crazy men who would do anything to get in your panties, just to toss you to the side later? Even though I was a plus-size, beautiful woman, I still wondered why I felt he was interested in me.

  I was the kind of woman who loved hard. When I made a decision to be with a man, I took it seriously. I had never wanted to sleep with a guy other than my husband, even though I suspected once during our marriage that my husband had had an affair.

  I was in graduate school, trying to get my master’s degree. My son, Little Dexter, as we called him, was only two at the time. We decided if I was to make more money, graduate school would be a great investment. At that time, we had to complete quarters instead of semesters
. I wanted to graduate in a year and a half, rather than the normal two years, so I took accelerated courses. I would often leave my baby with my best friend, because I felt she was better equipped to care for him. She also had a son, who was the same age as Dexter, and I felt that our children would benefit from each other’s company.

  One day, I left class early to come home to spend time with my family. School had my undivided attention and since I was also trying to complete it quickly, I knew my family had been neglected. I picked up my son and arrived at our home that we had built two years earlier. I pulled our brand-new Volvo into the garage, removed my baby from his car seat, and walked toward the door of the house.

  I entered the code on the security keypad and quietly entered the house. After putting Dexter in his swing in the kitchen, I went to look for my husband. Hearing nothing and thinking he was asleep, I decided to check our answering machine for messages. I picked up the phone and heard a woman ask, “Are you coming over today?”

  “I’m not sure,” Dexter said.

  “I want to see you. Isn’t she still in class?” the woman asked.

  “Yeah, but I have to pick up my baby.”

  “She spends too much time away from you and your baby. I think she is stupid.”

  Now you know me. I wasn’t going to let some bitch call me out of my name. She didn’t know me. She didn’t know that I would put my size-eight boot in her ass. I felt disrespected and insulted by this unknown bitch.

  “Little bitch, I will knock my fist upside your head and knock your ass stupid,” I rudely and insanely interjected.

  There was complete silence. I said, “Is this your bitch, Dexter? Did you tell her that she is not the first and that you are HIV positive?”

  “Malika, hang the phone up, please,” my cheating husband responded.

  “You wish I would, don’t you, you bad-blood, disease-ridden motherfucker.”

  I wasn’t even mad at him, but I was furious with her. I didn’t understand why. Did I suspect him? No. I trusted him. I thought because I heard her ask if I was in school, which let me know that she knew he was married. In my mind, I knew men would always try to cheat if they could, but a woman who knowingly knew he was married and still tried to have a relationship pissed me off.

  “Do you have HIV?” asked the young woman.

  “You are fucked, bitch!” I screamed. “I don’t care about you fucking this punk, ’cause neither of you will live to see my stupid ass graduate.” I was hot and bothered with her, but I wanted Dexter to understand my sting. I wanted him to know that I would ruin him if he stepped out. My heart told me that he hadn’t stepped out on me yet, but he was heading in that direction.

  With that, the woman hung the phone up. Dexter walked into the kitchen, and said, “You do some stupid shit. She was a friend I work with.”

  “You and your friend can both kiss my ass. I am taking your ass to the cleaners. I’m sure your little friend will admit that you all had sex to a judge.”

  “You need to get out of school and spend time with your family. School is fucking you up and making you think stupid. I am not having an affair on you and when I do, I’ll personally let you know.”

  Dexter picked up Little Dexter and started kissing on him and talking to him in baby talk. He then walked up to me and kissed me. “I love you and I am not having an affair on you. I’m always here and you know it.”

  “From now on you will be home, watching your son. If you are going to mess around on me while I’m trying to better myself for this family, you will have a toddler on your hip while you are doing it.”

  After that, I never had another problem with Dexter. I never suspected him again. Since that time, I had threatened him with God and how He felt about infidelity. Dexter had been a great provider and friend since that time. If he had had an affair, he did it without me finding out.

  I always thought most men would cheat. Almost all the ones I knew from my brother to my friends’ husbands were cheating on women they proclaimed to love. Some men who had tried to take me out on a date had admitted to being married.

  When I asked these men why they cheated, they always said they loved their wives. But I couldn’t understand that. If they loved their wives so much, why in the hell were they trying to sleep with someone else?

  That was the old me. This was the new me. I understood now. Travis once said something to me that made perfect sense. He said, “After you have been married for a period of time, you become to your spouse just like that coat hanger. You’re there. It’s taken for granted that you would always be there”. I just sat in my office and stared at that coat hanger. Maybe that’s why I wanted to be with Travis so bad. He was paying attention to me. My husband was paying attention to building his bank account. He was leaving me vulnerable and unattended.

  I started thinking. Did Travis see me as an attractive woman? Or did he see me as a professional woman who he could have an intelligent conversation with while just being my friend? I was so conflicted.

  What was the hold this young brother was having on me? I had to find out, so I called my sister, Karen, the mirror lover. “Karen,” I asked, “have you ever had an affair on your husband?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “I just want to know.”

  “Are you thinking about crossing that line?” Karen asked.

  “I asked you a question. Just talk to me, girl, please.”

  “Yes, I have. But I love my husband and I will never leave Tim for anyone.”

  “Well, if that’s so, why did you see another man?” Hell, what she said didn’t make any damn sense to me. She loved Tim and would never leave him. Come on now, what kind of sense did that make? “I don’t understand. If you love him so much, why cheat?” I asked.

  “Dan, my boyfriend, is my true soul mate. When I’m with him, I feel satisfied. We are a perfect match in sex, love, hobbies, and everything in between. My husband is great. He loves me dearly and he loves our daughter. But we are as different as night and day.”

  “So what are you getting from Dan?”

  “I’m getting straight-up passion, baby,” she said with excitement as her voice went up to another level.

  “Do you love him?”

  “Hell yes!”

  “How could you love two men at the same time?”

  “I love them for two different reasons. Both have something totally different to offer. My husband will never know that I am seeing someone else. I would never hurt him like that. I respect him too much. With Dan, he satisfies the passion in me. What my husband won’t do, he will. He loves to suck on every part of my body, everywhere. My husband won’t do that. He is old fashioned. He is straight up a missionary man. I couldn’t be happy with him sexually if Dan was not in my life.”

  “Have you ever asked Tim to do freaky stuff with you?”

  “Hell yes. But as always, he is too tired or he doesn’t think he will like that. Girl, as fine as my ass is he should be eating this all up. I work out, keep myself in shape, and I still look like I’m a teenager. By the way, you need to work out and lose some of that weight. Girl, what are you, about 180 pounds? That is too big. Your husband didn’t marry a big woman and I’m sure he doesn’t want one now. So you need to get off your ass and do something about your weight.”

  “Karen, I think I better go. You have a great day.” I slammed the phone down in Karen’s ear so hard; I was hoping to blow out one of her eardrums. See, that’s what I meant about her. We could be having a conversation and really bonding with each other, and then all of a sudden she would start addressing my faults. She was the one having an affair, but she couldn’t see that as doing wrong. But she could see a size-sixteen, too-tight dress was not attractive in her eyes.

  The way my sister treated me always bothered Dexter. But I always found myself justifying her behavior and why I allowed her to hurt me.

  “She is my sister,” I’d say to Dexter. “That’s why I let her get away with hurting my fee
lings.”

  “I’ve seen you chop folks up like a food processor and toss them like a pizza, but she is the one who breaks you down,” Dexter would respond.

  “She is my sister and I’m trying to keep us together for my mother’s sake. She wants her family to stay close. I can’t help that my sister is heartless and shallow.”

  “How can you be close with someone who doesn’t care about your feelings? She always puts you down. She breaks your spirit and whenever she leaves, I have to deal with what’s left of your self-esteem after every encounter you have with her and I’m sick of it!”

  “You are right, Dexter, but until I figure out how to tell her off without dividing our family, I will continue turning the other cheek. Plus, I love her. She is just different, that’s all.”

  “Do what you want, but don’t come crying on my shoulder when she hurts your feelings again.”

  That was how my husband and I argued every time I had a conversation with my sister. He was the only person I generally screamed at without thinking. Others got the professional bitch, the one who could break you down like a fraction to the lowest common denominator. I was meticulous, slow to anger, generous to a fault, and one of the best friends one could ever hope for.

  But I didn’t play. If you hurt or insulted me, you would never get another chance to hurt me again. If you disappointed me by sharing something I told you in confidence, I would quickly forget your phone number and help you to forget mine. I didn’t really hate people, I hated their actions. My mother, Barbara, called me true blue, which pissed me off. She and my dad, Sidney, put me on a pedestal that held me hostage. To them, I was their good child and that was how they wanted me to stay.