Diary of A. . .

Home > Romance > Diary of A. . . > Page 4
Diary of A. . . Page 4

by Sylvia Hubbard


  “Sheryl,” I said.

  Damn, he was getting cuter by the second.

  I leaned over, aware that my low top (that I had just thrown on to go walking in) showed a slight amount of cleavage for him to look at. “So when will you have something that I like, so I can come back?”

  He swallowed hard and forced his eyes back up to mine. “I-I could check my other stores.”

  “You have another store?” I asked impressed.

  “I have three stores. The other two are in Detroit. My father’s gotten sick and I’m running them now. If you come back tonight, I could have some diet red Faygo. I swear. Even if I have to run to Faygo to get it myself. I usually run the midnight shift, but I start about ten.”

  “I’ll be here,” I promised with a wink and left out.

  He was too cute for words and I was kind of turned on by the way he really wanted to help me out.

  I recognized a long time ago that I had an addictive personality. I guess that’s why I never took drugs or made alcohol my primary drink (only on business occasions as light refreshment).

  I try to carefully control the foods that I like by not having them in the house (or I’d be thicker than I already am, LOL). I also limit going to the malls because I know I’ll overcharge my credit card and not think twice about it.

  Yet with sex, I can’t seem to not want to like it. I think it’s more than just sex. It’s man himself. I love the smell of him, the taste of him, the sight of him and I don’t know if I will ever get enough.

  To stop myself from going back there and asking Rahem to come to my house instead, I went home, took a cold shower, and went to the nearest mall.

  I found a nice Frederick’s of Hollywood store and decided to treat myself. There were two other black women in there. One of them was pregnant, but she was just tagging along. She looked ready to burst.

  “You know I don’t know how you put up with that shit,” the one flipping through the racks said angrily. “If my husband was cheating-”

  “I don’t know if he’s cheating, Angie,” the pregnant one replied. “I’m probably making a mountain out of a mole hill. Peter is such a caring man. He’s so good to me.”

  “They always are, Lenecia.”

  My ears perked up at the familiar sounding name. NO! This can’t be Peter’s wife in the store. What the hell? She’s still pregnant!

  What the hell?! I reiterate to myself.

  I pretend indifference as they continue talking.

  “Look, Lee,” Angie turned around to face Lenecia, fully ignoring the fact that she was talking loud enough for anyone close by to hear. “I’m all happy for your jungle fever and shit, but that white man can be as devious as any black man.”

  “It’s just me, Angie. Please don’t drag him through the mud.”

  “Any man that won’t go down on me is bad in my book.”

  “I never said he wouldn’t, he just doesn’t like it that much.”

  “That means there’s something wrong with him.”

  “Peter’s a great guy. He’s working for a great company. He’s a great salesman and he’s been giving me everything I’ve ever desire. I’m just acting crazy and I am so ready to get rid of this baby.” Lenecia looked like she really wanted to drop the subject.

  I walked away with what I wanted to purchase, knowing that Peter manipulated me. Oh, he was going to pay. As soon as I could come up with a way to make him pay.

  When I returned home, I saw that Lisa had left a text message on my palm.

  Did you return that call to Mr. Patrick? He left a message late Friday and I just checked the voicemail this morning.

  No, I hadn’t. I cursed myself for being so preoccupied. Digging through my notes, I found Mr. Patrick’s number and called, not knowing who the hell it was.

  I reached a voicemail, so I left my name and number and then didn’t think twice about it again.

  When I got home after running all the errands I needed, I decided to take a long bath and then watch some television while I worked on some office paperwork here and there.

  Instead of watching the T.V., I found myself watching the clock. I knew I would.

  Ten o’clock, I found a great dress and put my hair up in a ponytail. Then I decided to walk back up to the store.

  Rahem was in there. He smiled brightly as I pretended to look around the store because other patrons were there. When they left, I came up to the counter. Rahem sent the other guy at the counter to go clean up around the lot to give us a moment alone.

  The man wanted to help me because he liked what he saw, but Rahem said something very sternly to him in Arabic and the man left. Damn, I was very turned on by the way he used his power to get what he wanted.

  “Hey, Sheryl,” Rahem said, finally addressing me. He looked very happy to see me. Those blue eyes were dancing around like crazy.

  “Hello Rahem. I didn’t see my diet red Faygo.”

  He laughed. “That’s because I only got a few and I wanted to save them all up for you.”

  “Oh really? Where are they? All hot in the back?”

  “No, I’m the only thing hot back here.”

  I laughed this time.

  “Would you like me to get them or would you like to get them?”

  He was inviting me back there with him, wasn’t he?

  My arousal was very evident. I licked my lips, preparing myself to answer his question….

  …. To be continued…..

  Entry Nine

  Rahem sensed my hesitation and leaned over to whisper seductively, “I don’t bite.”

  I smiled. “I don’t either.”

  Chuckling, Rahem nodded toward the door that led to the back. “Meet me on the other side of that door and I promise you won’t regret it.”

  Curiosity was killing me, so I went through the door. He came to me and pointed down a small hallway.

  I was still hesitant, so he said gently, “You didn’t come all this way for nothing.”

  “No, I didn’t,” I said. “Is my drink in the cooler?”

  “It’s in a safe place.”

  As I walked down the hall with him behind me, my breath quickened slowly in my chest. There was an opening, but his hand pressed against my side in a high school attempt to touch me. He brought his body closer to press against the back of mine. I felt a considerable amount of thickened flesh on my buttocks.

  “Not that way,” he said and gently nudged me to a door at the end of the hall. We entered a small office and he closed the door behind us.

  The office was small with nothing inside, except a desk, chair, file cabinet, and a computer set up. Under the desk there was a small refrigerator and some boxes.

  A bell run and he sighed in disappointment. “I’ll be back.” He closed the door, leaving me alone for a moment.

  I rested my backside on the desk near the chair since there was nowhere else to sit. I took in calming breaths. You know whatever you decide, you’ll be deemed a slut, I told myself.

  As if I cared. I mean, I loved men. I’ve known this about myself for a long while. Like I said before, I love the taste of them, the smell of them, and the look of them. The cuter the better. But hell, if they knew good loving in any shape, form or fashion, it was very difficult for me to resist any of them.

  Rahem had it going on. He was about a head taller than me, dark hair, beautiful blue eyes and those strong Arabic features that made him just stand out in a crowd. Now that I’d seen him up close, he looked to be nearer to twenty-five in age than thirty like I first thought. Either way, Rahem was a healthy-looking young man that I knew I could teach a few things if it progressed to that point.

  I could be satisfied with what he wanted to give me. Yet I would take it slow and not rush it, because even though I was a good judge of a man’s sexual ability before ever sleeping with him, I still wanted to be cautious. After all, Rahem was an Arab.

  When he returned, he held two bottles of diet red Faygo pop.

  “Compl
iments to you,” he said, placing them inside of a bag on the desk that I leaned against.

  He sat in the chair next to me. His sparkling blues looked me over lustfully, before meeting my eyes again.

  “Nothing is free,” I said suspiciously, leaning towards him.

  “You are right, Sheryl.”

  I liked the way he said my name. “Sherl-la.”

  Rahem continued. “Nothing is free, but I wouldn’t want to ask for something that you do not want to give.”

  “Tell me what you want and I’ll see if I want to give it.” I moved back to rest more on the desk, exposing bare thigh, slightly edging closer to him.

  He placed a warm hand high on my thigh. “I am always attracted to black women, but because of my culture and beliefs I cannot show it. Do you understand?”

  “I think. Keep going,” I encouraged softly.

  “And my father has also chosen my bride, which I am to marry from my ancestor’s home country, so I cannot fully join with any woman.” There was a lot of frustration in his blue diamond eyes. “But it does not prevent me from giving oral pleasure, which I want to give, yet have not found someone to please. When I saw you, I found myself attracted to you very much.”

  I couldn’t believe what he wanted. “You ask this of a lot of women?”

  He blushed, which made him look even cuter. “No, Sheryl. I’ve never asked a woman, because I was too afraid of rejection.”

  “And you aren’t afraid of me rejecting you?” I placed my hand on top of his.

  “I fear it, but my attraction overrules my fear when I look at you.”

  I really liked his answer. I parted my legs slowly while moving his hand between my legs.

  He shuddered and slowly looked down between my legs. Licking his lips hungrily, he asked, “And you want this?”

  “Yes, I would be honored, Rahem.”

  “And I can taste you? You are healthy?”

  “Yes, I am.” I liked his concern and I liked the way he asked.

  I love when a man is blunt. I was even more turned on now. I parted my legs even more in front of him resting my foot on his thigh.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered, realizing I wore no underwear.

  Watching him dip his dark head of hair between my legs was erotically blissful. Then I felt his strong wet tongue wondrously lick in a circular motion around my soft heaven.

  Rahem certainly loved this as he flicked his tongue voraciously between my legs, ushering my clit to come out and play. My body shivered in pleasure as he gathered momentum with his tongue.

  Biting my bottom lip, I enjoyed myself completely as he fully engaged my body to orgasm. Heat encompassed me and I wanted to scream.

  Rahem certainly had skills when it came to oral pleasure. I was certainly impressed.

  His mouth tenderly consoled my pussy as I came down from my euphoric apex. He clearly relished bringing me to orgasm as much as I enjoyed being taken there.

  Entry Ten

  I must have been dazed for a couple of moments, because when my equilibrium returned, I was side straddled on Rahem’s lap and his arms were around my waist.

  Looking up at him, I knew I was blushing. This was quite refreshing having a man please me first and not ask for anything in return.

  “Don’t be embarrassed, Sheryl,” he said softly, kissing my forehead. “Giving you pleasure was an honor.”

  I could feel his hardened shaft still molded against my ass, but Rahem didn’t seem as if this was bothering him – much. I reached down and started to unbuckle his pants.

  He gently took my hands and kissed my knuckles. “No, Sheryl. I cannot allow you to pleasure me, as much as I want to. I must keep myself for my soon-to-be wife, Andrina.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I just know a woman like you would make me fall in love.”

  I laughed. “You say that to all the girls,” I teased.

  “No, Sheryl.” There was a very serious look in those pretty blue eyes of his. “I can feel that a woman like yourself would make a man beg.” He caressed my cheek softly. “You could make a man feel like a king.”

  I liked what Rahem said. “How old are you, Rahem?”

  “Twenty-eight,” he said proudly.

  “How long have you been betrothed to Andrina?”

  “Since I was eighteen. My family went back to the old country to spend time with my grandparents and that’s when I met her.” He blushed. “She tasted me. You understand?”

  “Yes, Rahem. I understand she used her mouth on you.”

  “I told my father.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged, but there was a huge look of regret on his face. “I guess I was just so excited about it. That had been the first time any woman had ever touched me that way. My father is a very strict man and we lived a very secluded life in the states. I was taught at home and the only time we were allowed outside with other children, other than family, was only when my father’s eyes were on us. When we went to the old country, my father’s guard was down and we had more freedom.”

  “Freedom to find yourself hitched to a woman you’ve only been with one time.” I felt bad for him.

  “Yes, when my father knew what had been done, he went to her parents and paid the dowry to marry her. I’ve worked all these years to pay the money to my father and save some for me to start a family nicely. Now in a year, I shall go and collect my bride and then bring her back here.”

  “How old is she?”

  “At that time she was only fifteen.”

  In my mind I was thinking that Rahem was the one that got the bad deal out of this and he was taking it much too lightly. Fuck Family Honor. In

  America you should be able to do whatever you wanted.

  “So you’ve kept yourself for Andrina all this time?”

  “I want to do what’s right,” he said this rather tightly.

  “But why don’t you sound happy about it? You don’t want to marry Andrina?”

  He kissed my knuckles to distract me. “That is something I do not wish to speak about, Sheryl.”

  I respected his wishes as Rahem guided me to the back exit delivery door and even drove me home in his red Dakota pickup.

  “Will I see you again?” Rahem asked hopefully.

  “If you want to.”

  “No, Sheryl. Only if you want to.” He wrote his name and number on a piece of paper.

  “Okay, Rahem. I will call,” I promised. I took the paper, kissed him on the cheek and got out.

  ***

  I slept until ten Sunday morning. After taking a long shower, I called Mackeroy. The Peter’s wife thing had been on my mind since I awoke. The more I thought about it, the more it bothered me.

  At noon, I called Mack.

  He was very excited to hear from me. “I didn’t think you would call.”

  “Why would you think that?” I asked affronted. “I had a wonderful time.”

  “Can I be honest and say something, Sheryl?”

  “Sure.”

  “Though I indicated otherwise, inwardly I still thought you only slept with me to secure my account for your company. I just want to reiterate that I was going to accept your company before I ever slept with you.”

  Hearing this was a relief to my ears. I made my own confession. “I also thought my sleeping with you was the determining factor for you coming with the company. It’s good to know that I was wrong.”

  “Well, knowing a very smart intelligent woman such as yourself would be working on my account was a nice enough thing, even though I was very sexually attracted to you. I want to see you again when I get back in town, Sheryl.”

  “When will that be?”

  “Monday night. I wanted to come by as soon as my flight landed.”

  I wanted that too, so I accepted that offer and told him I would pick him up from the airport. After that, I asked, “So you didn’t have any idea that Peter wasn’t coming?”

  “No, I didn’t. Peter had just called m
e an hour before to confirm the appointment to make sure I would be there.”

  That was about when Peter should have been at the hospital with his wife having the baby – if Peter was telling the truth, but I highly doubted it the more I listened to what Mackeroy had to say.

  I wouldn’t know until Monday when I would see Peter, but that white man was definitely on my shit list. I had a feeling he planned on my face and personality swaying Mackeroy to choose our company.

  Mack and I spoke some more. When I got off the phone with him, I decided to go over to visit my mother. The issue about my crazy sister was bothering me in the back of my head.

  My mother, Nina Banks, had been a single parent all our lives. Nina had always been stern in her discipline to us, which pretty much kept us out of trouble. Her philosophies about life were embedded in my mind and I relished knowing that I had a lot of her strength in character.

  She was an older version of Lauren, but Nina didn’t look old enough to be the mother of two grown daughters in their thirties. She looked more like she was in her early forties, not about to be sixty in two weeks.

  I told my mother exactly what my sister had said to me. The whole time Nina looked as if someone was holding a gun to her head.

  “I told that child she was just having crazy dreams. All pregnant women have them.”

  “I believe that, too, Momma,” I agreed. “But the woman is ready to leave her husband and you know I don’t think I could have her up in my house. She’d start on that religious crap again, walking around in the middle of the night and just…well, I don’t think I could take it.”

  “So what do you want me to do?”

  “Help me, help her.”

  Nina sighed and sat on the couch, pulling a pillow over her chest as if in comfort. I didn’t sit, but instead stood above her waiting for her to come to terms with some deep-seated emotional strife that she was fighting with. I could see the desperation in her eyes.

  “How was I to tell you about your father? I was single and desperate for assistance back than. I needed the financial support. E just gave me a way out of a lot of debt that…” She paused as if to bite her tongue.

 

‹ Prev