Dear Summer

by Elliott, K.

  Matt shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry, Tommy, but I can’t.” He extended his hand.

  Tommy frowned and left Matt’s hand dangling. “Whatever, motherfucker.”

  Chapter 9

  D

  ear Summer, I woke up this morning thinking about you. I haven’t spoken with you in a couple of days and I called and left you a message. I was wondering if you and your girl would like to hang out with me and my boy Ditty. Some time today, let’s go get some Japanese food or something. Call me when you get the message. From Tommy

  Sent via Sprint PCS Blackberry

  After Summer read the message she immediately called Tommy. He picked up on the second ring. “Hey, baby. Didn’t think you would be up.”

  “You know I get up early in the morning to write.” “Yeah, I know, but I guess that’s what I thought you’d be doing.”

  “I can’t seem to get myself going today.”

  “So you want to go to lunch?”

  “Yeah. I’d like that. I will have to call Tonya though, to see if she wants to hang out.”

  “Tell me about her.”

  “Why you want to know about her?”

  “My boy Ditty need a woman in his life.”

  “Is he like you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You got two women in your life,” Summer said. She knew this would start an argument, but what the hell.

  “I don’t have two women in my life.”

  “Nigga, you know you got two women. Have you forgotten you living with a woman?”

  “No. It’s not going to always be like this. So do ya’ll want to go to the restaurant or not?”

  “What restaurant?”

  “Kabuto’s.”

  “I guess. I’ll call Tonya,” Summer said. She went into the bedroom. She pulled off her jeans and stood with her panties on. “Tommy, I want phone sex.”

  “I’m driving.”

  “Pull over. I got on that G-string that you like. You know, the one with the beads on it.” She lied. The truth was she had on boy shorts but she wanted phone sex and she knew this would be the only way that he would participate.

  “The pink ones?”

  “Yes,” she moaned.

  “Baby, I can’t pull over. I have somewhere to go.”

  Summer pulled her panties to the side and stroked her clitoris. “I’m stroking my clit.”

  “And I’m pulling over to the side of the road.”

  “I’m imagining your head between my legs,” Summer continued. She could feel the moisture arising between her legs.

  “You tasting my clit. You’re licking up and down and the top of it. Did you pull over yet?”

  “I’m in the Wal-Mart parking lot.”

  Summer moaned. “Tommy, your fingers are going in and out my pussy while you’re tonguing my clit.”

  Tommy said, “I got my hand on my dick, stroking it.”

  “I turn over on my stomach and you start eating my pussy from the back.”

  “I want to put it in.”

  “Put it in, Daddy, put it in,” she said. She kept stroking her clit until she brought herself to an orgasm. “Thank you, Daddy.”

  “What the hell…I know you didn’t cum.”

  “Came hard, too. I’ll get you on the next one.”

  “One o’clock at Kabuto’s.”

  *****

  At an eloquent little restaurant downtown, Tommy and Ditty waited on Summer and Tonya. The girls arrived fifteen minutes later. Ditty was smiling hard as hell when he met Tonya. Her jeans were gripping her ass nicely and her skin was flawless. He wanted to fuck her. She extended her hand but he asked for a hug. She smiled and complied. He held her for a long time before she pushed him and said, “Would you ease up?” She frowned.

  “Bitch, you ain’t all that,” Ditty said.

  “Why I gotta be a bitch?” Tonya said.

  Ditty turned to Tommy. “I’m leaving, man.”

  “No. Don’t leave.”

  “Tommy, let the motherfucker leave. The nigga ain’t my type

  anyway.”

  Summer grabbed Tonya by the arm. “Come on. Chill out.” Tonya frowned. “I don’t like niggas like that. I mean, all because

  I wouldn’t let him have his way with me, I’m a bitch.” A waitress appeared and led the four of them to a booth. Tonya sat on the inside of Ditty. He extended his hand. “Hey,

  I’m sorry.”

  Tonya smiled. “I apologize, myself.”

  “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Summer said. She was

  happy that the tension was gone, but she knew Tonya, and she could tell there was no chance that Ditty was going to get any pussy.

  The waitress arrived with sweet teas for everybody. Tommy and Summer played under the table. Summer had his dick out in her hand, stroking it. Tommy couldn’t believe that shit, but hey, they’d had sex in the men’s restroom before. With Summer, anything could happen at anytime. It had been only two hours since they’d had phone sex. He couldn’t believe she was still horny. He could feel himself getting aroused. He moved her hand and zipped his pants back up.

  “Nigga, what you smiling for?” Ditty asked. Tommy hesitated before speaking. “You know what? I think you and Tonya would make a great couple.”

  “Hell, yeah. I was just thinking the same thing.”

  Tonya turned to Ditty. She didn’t say anything, but the look on

  her face said it all. It was like he stunk or something. He wasn’t good enough for her.

  Summer tried to pull Tommy’s dick out again.

  Tommy slapped her hands then announced, “I got to use the bathroom.”

  “Me too,” Summer said.

  “Yeah, ho. Go wash your damn hands.” Tonya laughed.

  When Summer and Tommy were gone, Ditty asked, “What’s with the attitude?”

  Tonya turned and faced him. “Nigga, I don’t know you, so therefore I don’t owe you no damn explanation.”

  “I mean, at least be nice.”

  “I’m being nice,” she said, then folded her arms and turned away.

  “Why did you come anyway, if you were going to be antisocial?”

  Tonya sucked her teeth. “Just doing a friend a favor. That’s all.”

  Ditty turned his head away, wondering why he came in the first place. It was always the fine ones that acted so stuck up. He looked at the next table. An old white couple was sharing a plate of french fries.

  Tommy and Summer reappeared, smiling. Tonya made eye contact with Summer. “I’m ready to leave.”

  “What?” Tommy said angrily. “We haven’t even begun to eat yet.”

  “I’m ready to go too, nigga.” Ditty stood and Tonya scooted from the booth. Her perfume lingered and Ditty wondered why in the hell she had to be so damned difficult. Damn, he wanted to fuck her.

  Tonya clutched her handbag tightly. “So…you going or what?”

  “Yeah,” Summer said, looking in Tommy’s eyes. “I have to take her home.”

  Tommy dug into his pocket, pulled out a one-hundred dollar bill and offered it to Tonya. She didn’t accept.

  “What is this for?”

  “Catch a cab home.”

  She flung her hair over her shoulders and stuck her chest out. She didn’t say anything, but her expression said that catching a taxi was beneath her and that Ditty wasn’t on her level.

  Summer grabbed Tommy’s hand and they made eye contact. “Tommy, I really have to take her home.”

  “What? Are you fuckin’ this bitch? I want to see you, and just because she’s acting like a Nazi…”

  Summer massaged Tommy’s hand. “Come on, Tommy. Why would you say something like that?”

  Tommy pulled his hand away. “I mean, you taking her side.”

  “Tommy I ain’t taking nobody’s side, but I have to take my girlfriend home.”

  “Call me later.”

  Summer leaned forward and kissed Tommy on his jaw.

  ***** J.C. was smi
ling when the younger teller flirted with him. He knew she didn’t want him, but it was always good for his ego when he could catch the eye of a young woman—especially when the woman was so damned sexy. Jessica, the young Hispanic teller, had an ass that you could have a card tournament on. “Mr. Coleman, do you want large bills or small?”

  J.C. smiled, revealing his newly capped teeth. He liked to show off his smile. One of the first things he did when he was awarded his money was to get his smile fixed. $18,000—sixteen caps and four veneers later he had a perfect smile.

  Now J.C. walked out of the bank with an envelope containing $8,000. The bank had given him an equity credit line. His plans were to catch up on some of his bills with the money, and he would, but first he would have to call his supplier. He wanted to get high and he needed to get high fast. He opened the door of his Jeep Cherokee, pulled out his cell phone and dialed his supplier. Fifteen minutes later he arrived at his supplier’s drug house. The man peeked through the curtains and minutes later he and J.C. were face to face. The supplier had a Crown Royal bag in his hand, which he opened. It contained small packages of coke.

  J.C. pushed it away. “I want weight.” The man looked surprised. “What the hell are you talking about? You’re a fuckin’ crack head.”

  J.C. wanted to dispute it, but he couldn’t. It was the truth. He hated words like crack head, junkie, and addict. He hated his addiction too, but he couldn’t help it. He had to have a fix.

  “So, what you gonna do, old man? Are you going to get some of this fire, or no?” The dealer dug into the bag and pulled out three baggies of coke. “This is the shit, man. I’m telling you, you better get it before I’m out.”

  JC looked the man in the eye. He couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. He didn’t know. He knew that dealers were like car salesmen. They bluffed a lot. He had plans to meet with a young escort tonight and party. “Hey. Couldn’t you just sell me an ounce one time?”

  “What’s the point?”

  “I can get more for my money.”

  “I will sell you four eight balls for $800.”

  J.C. walked back to his car. Then he turned back to the dealer and said, “I’ll take it. And if you got any pills, I’ll take a few of them, too.”

  The dealer smiled then disappeared into the house and came back out with the pills. The exchange was made.

  Chapter 10

  Inside his hotel room at the Westin, J.C. waited on Shantelle, the $750 an hour escort. He dug into his pocket and pulled out three Cialis tablets. He wondered if he could get his dick up today. The last few times that he’d seen her, he hadn’t been able to get it up without the help of Cialis. He quickly dismissed the thought of the Cialis, not because he didn’t need it, but because he knew he’d be smoking crack later that night. He didn’t know if his heart could take it at his age.

  When Shantelle arrived, she was wearing a black, backless dress with 5-inch heels, making her already long legs appear longer. When she walked inside the room, she greeted J.C. with a hug. He grinned, thinking, this young bitch looks spectacular.

  Shantelle walked past him. He examined her incredible body once again. Her waist was so damn tiny, and her ass just bubbled out like two cantaloupes. She was twenty-four and in incredible shape. She had been a track star, but lost her scholarship because her grades had dropped. She walked over to the bed, grabbed the remote and turned on the television. Crossing her legs, she revealed her muscular calves and beautiful toes. She asked, “So, do you want to handle our business first, Daddy?”

  J.C. frowned. He knew she wanted to get paid first. Every time she’d come to see him she wanted her money up front. She’d seen him six times, and every time she wanted to get the payment out of the way. He pulled the bank envelope from his pocket, counted out seven $100 bills, two twenties, and a ten.

  Shantelle was smiling and J.C. wondered what she was thinking. Did she think he was weak? Did she think he was an old fool? Or was she simply happy she would make $750 in one hour? There was a time when he wouldn’t have given a dime to women, but then that was a time when he was working as a janitor. He desired pretty women, but he knew women were attracted to money, and at that time he simply didn’t have it.

  He handed her the money and she disappeared to the bathroom carrying her bag. When she reappeared, she was wearing a tiny silver G-string with a pair of clear, 5-inch heels. Her breasts sat upright and she was wearing a wig.

  J.C. turned the TV off and eased over to the other side of the room. He sat in a chair next to the window and opened the curtain. He wanted to think someone could see them. This turned him on in a weird way.

  When Shantelle walked, she swayed, sex appeal oozed as she looked at him seductively. She licked her full lips. J.C. unzipped his pants and pulled his dick out. She got on her knees and stroked it, but it still wouldn’t rise.

  J.C. felt embarrassed. He tried to concentrate to make it work, he looked at her brilliant ass again and her beautiful face, and remembered the last time they’d had sex. He had used Cialis and fucked her on the balcony, and she was screaming so hard he had to put a towel in her mouth. Even with his vivid imagination he couldn’t make it rise.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. She looked up at him as if she were glad, and he figured she probably was glad she didn’t have to fuck an old man and happy she had made a quick $750. But he wouldn’t let her off that easy. “Baby, I want to rub baby oil on that ass of yours. Maybe that will get it up.”

  She rose from the floor, kissed him on the jaw and winked. “Anything for you, Daddy.”

  Shantelle disappeared into the bathroom and reappeared wearing a yellow G-string that contrasted with her dark skin wonderfully. One thing was for damn sure; the young woman was sexy as hell, and this fact made J.C. even more frustrated. How could his dick not perform for her. He could feel himself rise, and when his dick was fully erect, she put the baby oil on the floor and got on her knees, again taking him in her mouth. She spat on his instrument and continued to suck until he wanted to stick it inside her. His condom was inside his wallet and he quickly dug, trying to come up with it before his erection went down. He had the purple Trojan packet in his hand and he ripped into it with his teeth, spit the condom packet out and slid the condom on. Meanwhile, Shantelle had peeled her underwear off. Her thong was now under the heel of her shoe. She turned her ass toward him. He looked at the tattoo of a rose at the small of her back. This young bitch is going to get it now, he told himself.

  She smiled at him then licked her lips and opened her pussy.

  When he pushed himself inside, she was wet. He sat back on the chair and she began to ride him, and he slapped that ass.

  “Oh, Daddy.”

  “Damn, slow down,” J.C. said.

  “This dick is so good,” she said.

  Again J.C. looked at her tattoo and when he pulled her hair, he saw her facial expressions. Two minutes later he came and Shantelle didn’t know. She kept throwing herself into him until his dick slipped out.

  She turned and asked, “Was it good?”

  Reluctantly, he shook his head. “Yeah. It was good,” he said, but the fantasy was far better than the reality. This was always the case. In sex and in life. He knew this, but he was weak. He was a fiend for pussy, drugs, and a good time. He didn’t want this lifestyle, but he had accepted that he’d been wired to like this. His father had died of alcoholism and chasing women and he figured if he didn’t get a grip on himself, he probably would, too.

  Shantelle was in the shower. He picked up his pants that were lying on the floor, and the bank envelope in his back pocket. He counted his money again. He’d spent $1,000 on the coke, the room was $140, and he’d given Shantelle $750. “Damn!” He cursed himself. He couldn’t believe he’d become so weak.

  Steam was coming from the bathroom. J.C. glanced at the door. He was now disgusted with Shantelle. Why in the hell couldn’t she take a shower at home? She hummed some song by Usher. J.C. didn’t know the name of the song, but
he knew he’d heard it before.

  “Daddy!” Shantelle yelled.

  “Yeah. What do you want?” J.C. asked. He walked over to the table.

  “Did you get something for me?”

  He knew she was referring to the pills he’d bought for her. She loved pills and she loved him buying her pills. J.C. dug into his pocket, retrieved the pills and wondered why in the hell was he buying her pills when he had just given her $750.

  Also in his pocket was his crack pipe, which was wrapped in aluminum foil. He pulled it out, broke off a piece of crack and put it on the end of the pipe. He flicked his lighter, trying desperately to light his pipe, but the lighter was dead. He had another in his jacket pocket. Inside the jacket pocket was a purple lighter. He flicked, and the flame was torch-like. The crack sizzled from the heat. J.C.’s heart rate increased. Damn. He felt good. He didn’t have any worries. He liked feeling like this. The stench from the crack filled the room.

  Shantelle yelled out, “Daddy, what you doing?”

  J.C. didn’t answer. The flame from the lighter burnt the tip of his finger and he let go of the button, paused for ten seconds, then lit the crack again.

  Shantelle came out with a white hotel towel covering her body. J.C. didn’t notice her. He just kept holding his torch as he sat in the chair.

  Shantelle quickly closed the curtain. He was still flicking away. She dropped to her knees, pulled J.C.’s manhood from his boxer’s and placed it in her mouth again. He glanced at her and wanted to tell her to stop but it was so pleasurable… intense. He enjoyed the feeling though his heart pounded violently.

  ***** Country nudged Q when he saw the two women enter the margarita bar. “Hey, ain’t that the bitch that was with your boy Tommy the other day in the park?”

  Q lowered his Versace frames and peered over at the woman with the tight revealing dress. He strained his eyes to see what kind of panties she had on. In his mind he pictured her in black thongs. For a second he imagined him hitting her doggy style. “You know what? I don’t know and I don’t care. If she walks toward me, I’ma holla at her.”

  “Don’t let her know that you know Tommy.” Q shrugged. “I don’t give a fuck about him. All I know is my nigga is downtown because he was driving a car that nigga sold him.”