Pierce’s lips felt different tonight … disarming, disturbing, mesmerizing. Lips designed solely for romance. The feel of his body was exciting, his scent clean and masculine.
Pierce’s strong hand started to move slowly to the top of my pajama top and when his finger touched the first button he looked into my eyes and said, “I have to know if these feel and taste as wonderful as they look.” His eyes were placed firmly on my breasts. I didn’t say anything, but I guess my answer was a yes; Pierce slowly opened two buttons and with his large hands, gently cupped my left breast, lowered his lips, and kissed it softly. He then parted the silk top and repeated the action with my right breast.
Pierce’s hard, wet tongue slowly left my breast and started downward toward my navel. I felt my body and face grow hot and my vaginal muscles tighten as Pierce’s hand went down my back and his lips moved faster toward my mid-section. I briefly thought to push his face away from my body as I felt Pierce’s hand on my back, but I didn’t. The silk pajama bottom left my hips and legs and fell gently around my ankles.
“No, Pierce,” I moaned as I felt Pierce’s tongue over my pubic hair. Pierce didn’t stop. I leaned my head back and admired the starlit night and enjoyed the exquisite pleasure of Pierce’s tongue. I heard the tape deck click and a silence ensued over the patio.
Minutes later Pierce led me through the sliding glass doors. I made a quick stop in the bathroom and then met him in the bedroom. We converged on the bed, eagerly, and for the rest of the night we experienced lively and intense pleasure from each other. A marvelous sexual feeling overtook my body like warm waves to a rock-filled shore. Something I hadn’t experienced in a time period too lengthy to recall.
Seventeen
They say there’s a thin line between love and hate, but had anyone considered the line between lust and love? I was convinced that lust dominated my relationship with Basil Henderson. He was still not admitting to being gay or bisexual, so I never brought it up. If he wanted to live in a sexual Disneyland, then that was cool with me. I was just enjoying one of the most passion-filled relationships I had ever known. My celibacy vow was a mere memory. I figured if my celibacy was going out of business it might as well go out in style. Boy, what style. Besides, it was nice to know there was someone more confused than me when it came to his sexuality.
In the midst of all this passion with Basil, my relationships with Jared and Kyle suffered. When I mentioned to Kyle about remotely being interested in Basil he stated simply, “Don’t do it, Ray.” The summer was almost over before I confessed.
After standing up Jared on my birthday, everything went downhill. When I returned home the morning after my first night with Basil there were thirteen messages on my machine. Birthday wishes from Mom and Pops, one from Kirby, one from Kyle, and ten messages from Jared, the last one saying, “Don’t worry about returning this call this evening or ever.” The tone of the message was pure anger. I didn’t return his call, not because I didn’t want to, but because I wanted to avoid a confrontation. I wanted to give him time to cool off and give myself time to come up with a believable story. I ran into him weeks later at the health club and we chatted as though we were just acquaintances as opposed to friends. He mentioned he had gotten an offer to join the Clinton presidential campaign and was strongly considering it, even though it would mean moving to Little Rock, Arkansas.
I still loved Jared and missed him desperately, but Basil had me in such a sexual stupor it was hard to think of much else, including my family, friends, and sometimes my job. I even turned down a couple of dinner invitations from Sherrod. My family was planning a big family reunion at the end of the summer and I wasn’t providing the support I’d promised my mother earlier. My pops had personally invited Jared and I knew he would be there. The only reason my alliance with Basil wasn’t causing a big problem at work was because Basil was turning me on to a lot of business contacts in the Florida and New York areas.
Despite Basil’s strong presence in my life I was determined I would not fall in love with him. The relationship was based purely on sex—fabulous, erotic sex—and I had to remain clear on that fact. We shared a sexual intensity I had not dreamed possible. An intensity that sometimes scared me. It was a rare occasion when we went to a movie or out to dinner, this despite the fact that we spent almost every night in each other’s bed, alternating weeks at his place and mine. When we talked it was always about his career and what he was going to do once it was over.
Basil continued a relationship with a black soap opera actress, Dyanna Watson, who divided her time between Atlanta, New York, and Los Angeles. I met Dyanna on a couple of her visits to Atlanta. She was a nice, naive, cocoa-brown-skinned beauty, whose career was beginning to heat up. I was introduced as Basil’s attorney. I was also expected to stay out of the way during Dyanna’s overnight or weekend visits to Atlanta, even though I got the impression Dyanna didn’t mind haying me around.
Basil was extremely uptight about public appearances. When we went to the same functions we took separate cars and barely spoke. The first time we went to the movies, I plopped down in the seat next to him after getting colas and popcorn but he quickly jumped to the next seat, leaving an empty one between us. If we went to the grocery store or video rental place and guys cruised us Basil would whisper, “Look at him cruising us. He must be a punk.” If it was a female, Basil’s reaction was totally different. He flirted, talked, and even took numbers, although he would tear up the number in my presence when we got home. One night he suggested we both call an attractive young lady we met to see who could bone her first while the other one looked on from the closet. “She’s a freak I can tell. She would do both of us,” Basil said. I declined.
But, in private, when the lights went out, Basil became a totally different person. Passionate, giving, and affectionate beyond belief. He also had a sense of humor that loosened even me up. One morning when I was on my way to the office, all decked out in my blue Brooks Brothers suit, cotton shirt, silk tie, I paused in the bathroom where Basil was showering. “Basil, I’m getting ready to leave. I’ll see you later on tonight,” I yelled.
Basil pulled back the shower curtain with that million-dollar smile and asked, “Don’t I get a kiss?” Basil was really into kissing now. When I obliged the next thing I knew I was in the shower with Basil, suit and all, kissing like crazy under the thrust of warm water. Minutes later, my expensive suit lay on the floor like a throw rug as Basil and I made love under the rush of the warm water. I called in sick and we spent the day watching his game footage, ESPN, and old Bette Davis movies he had delivered by the local video store.
During that summer, I saw many different sides of Basil. At times he could be the most arrogant man on earth and then, within seconds, he would question his every ability. He talked with the excitement of a little kid at the prospect of making the Pro Bowl and breaking Warrior receiving records and then looked at me and questioned, “Do you really think I can do it, Ray? Do you really?”
It was during these times that I wanted just to hold him in my arms and assure him everything would be perfect. He gave me what I missed so much from Jared. The feeling that I could do anything I dreamed and have someone to share it with. Sometimes Basil would look at me with his bedroom eyes and say, “You know if I didn’t know better I would say I’m getting used to this.”
When I talked with Kyle I barely mentioned Basil and when he brought up Jared, I told him we were giving each other brakes, a term Kyle used all the time when he got tired of the man he was seeing at a given time.
I justified the amount of time I spent with Basil by the fact that he would soon be leaving to go back to New Jersey for football season. It was only when we talked about his pending departure that our future would come up for discussion.
“Would you come to New York if I asked you?” Basil asked one night after our lovemaking.
“If you sent for me,” I replied smugly.
“What if we split the cost of the tick
et?”
“Then I’d have to think about it.”
I thought about inviting Basil to my family reunion. I wanted to see what type of reaction I would get from my family. I mean at times I didn’t know if my pops was so fond of Jared because he thought he would be a good partner for me or if he realized that Jared was straight and secretly wished he could straighten me out. There were times I would become jealous watching my pops and Jared enjoying conversations regarding politics and sports.
One evening I got a call from my pops. It became obvious that Jared had called him concerning Congressman Thomas’s opponent.
“So I hear this guy Dee is one of your boys,” my pops said.
“One of my boys?” I questioned.
“Yeah,” Pops responded.
One of my boys? What was Pops talking about? Did he mean my fraternity and what did that have to do with the election? I repeated my question.
“One of my boys, huh. What do you mean, Pops?”
“Aw, come on, you know. One of your boys.”
“Do you mean he’s a member of KAΩ? I don’t think he is.”
“Come on, Ray-Ray. You know what I’m talking about. One of your boys.”
That’s when it hit me what my pops was talking about. I could just imagine him back at home in his office moving his big hands side to side in the air while he talked to me on the phone.
“Do you mean he’s gay, Pops?” I asked, trying not to laugh.
“Yeah, that’s it,” my pops responded with relief in his voice.
“Then just say it, Pops. Jimmy Dee is gay,” I demanded.
“Aw, come on, I don’t need to say it.”
“Okay, Pops, suit yourself. Kiss Mom and Kirby for me,” I said as I hung up the phone.
As hard as my father tried, I knew that it was difficult for him to deal with my sexuality. I guess he thought somehow I’d changed or that he had to change to stay close and important in my life. Maybe he thought we couldn’t talk about man-to-man things without sexual identity becoming a part of the discussion. When he talked about gay issues, his voice changed—he sounded more animated. At first, I would become angry because sometimes he seemed patronizing, but I realized he was trying to be supportive. Trying to understand.
It turned out Basil was going to be back in New Jersey during the reunion. I knew I was going to miss the sex and maybe even miss Basil, but I was looking forward to the fall. Kyle was coming to Atlanta for Labor Day and I was going back to AU for a fraternity reunion.
I still hadn’t checked out the gay bars in Atlanta for Kyle. I did know there were three black bars and Kyle said there would be a lot of parties in Atlanta during the Labor Day holiday.
I thought of asking Mico about where I should take Kyle but decided against it. What if he cracked my face and demanded to know why I was asking him? One night, late, Basil and I went over to the Varsity Drive Inn near Georgia Tech University for greasy hot dogs and onion rings; we passed a big barn-type building with a large crowd of black men in front and on the side street.
“You know what that is?” Basil asked.
“No, I don’t,” I said.
“It’s a black punk bar and I don’t want to ever catch you in there,” Basil instructed.
“Why? You afraid I’ll see you in there?” I joked.
“Fuck off,” Basil said with a slight smile.
“Why should I? I’ve got you,” I said.
This time Basil smiled broadly.
Eighteen
“Why do you think I feel so guilty, Dr. Huntley?”
“Guilty?”
“I enjoyed making love with Pierce but the next day I suffered a tremendous amount of guilt.”
“Is it because of your faith?”
“That’s part of it. The other part is that I know now it’s really just lust when it comes to Pierce. He brings my body pleasure but I don’t love him like he loves me.”
“Is it because he’s white?”
“No.”
“Jewish?”
“No,” I said quickly.
“Then what is it, Nicole?”
“I just think maybe I should …”
Dr. Huntley didn’t complete my thought or ask another question. She just stared at me with her knowing eyes.
“I should have kept the relationship on a friendship basis. Maybe I think I should be in love with him because of the way he treats me. But wouldn’t that be sympathy love?”
“Sympathy love?”
“Yes—being in love with somebody because you feel sorry for him.”
“Is there some reason I don’t know about why you should feel sorry for Pierce?”
“No. He’s very attractive, smart, wealthy, and very good in bed,” I said.
Again no response from Dr. Huntley, just the look.
“Maybe I want the stars and bells we think we should have. It’s times like these that I doubt if I really know what love is.”
“Why do you feel that way?”
“I was just thinking about the first time, when I lost my virginity.”
“The first time?”
“I almost didn’t go to the prom. No one asked me until a week before. In a way I was relieved because I knew that it was an understanding that whomever you went to the prom with was the person who you would give up your virginity to, that is unless you had already given in to the pressures of hormonal high school boys. Since I think everybody knew I was a virgin I was surprised when he asked me.”
“Who, Nicole?”
“Thorpe.”
“Thorpe?”
“Yes, Thorpe Preston Douglas. Everybody called him TP. He was one of the best-looking guys in the entire school. Tall, muscular, fair-skinned, with dreamy brown eyes. He was the first black president of the student body and a star football player. I had secretly had a crush on him since ninth grade. The age my hormones kicked in. He was the kind of boy who I knew would make pretty children.”
“So what happened?”
“Well, it was a magical moment. A nice spring night. Thorpe picked me up in his father’s new burgundy Monte Carlo. His father was the first black principal at Little Rock Hall High, so his family was well off.”
I paused and my thoughts drifted back to the decorated field house at Central High. Black and gold streamers everywhere, a racially mixed rock band. I could see the look of awe on all my girlfriends’ faces when I walked into the gym with Thorpe. I smiled broadly at the remembrance.
“You’re smiling,” Dr. Huntley said, interrupting my memories.
“I was just remembering.”
“So you were fond of him?”
“Yes.”
“Did you have a good time?”
“I did until I went into the girls’ rest room and one of my friends, who was a cheerleader, informed me that Thorpe was secretly dating Nina Porter. Nina was captain of the cheerleaders, a beautiful blue-eyed blonde. I always disliked cheerleaders. No, I’m kidding. She said Thorpe had invited me because Nina’s parents didn’t know that they had been dating since tenth grade.”
“You didn’t know that he was dating her?”
“No, I didn’t know. I don’t think very many did.”
“So that bothered you?”
“No!” I shouted in anger.
“Why are you shouting, Nicole?”
“What bothers me is not that he didn’t tell me why he asked me to the prom. I would have been a cover for him; I liked Nina. What bothers me is that my insecurities took over and I allowed him to take me to the Red Carpet Inn and make love to me. It was painful, but I thought it was okay because he thought I was beautiful. At least that’s what he said when he picked me up. When he finished he took me home, didn’t kiss me, and didn’t call me ever again.”
I felt tears rising in my eyes and I quickly blinked them back.
“Did you ever see him again?”
“Only in passing. At graduation and years later after I had won Miss Arkansas. He had married Nina. Their s
on was beautiful. You know, the only person who ever knew about Thorpe and me was Candance.”
“Why is that?”
“Because she understood.”
“So that was your first time?”
“Yes.”
“And it wasn’t a good experience?”
“No. Can we talk about something else?”
“Do you want to?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Why?”
“Because I should be happy instead of having these confused feelings of pleasure and guilt. Guilt about things I can’t change. I can’t believe I’m spending my time talking about this when so many other people have bigger problems. When I talk about my first time it sounds like a sitcom episode. Let’s talk about other people.”
“Other people. Are you talking about your friend Delaney?”
“Yes. Delaney seems to be handling things pretty good. She still hasn’t filed a police report, but she’s doing volunteer work at a Rape Crisis Center. I’m thinking about volunteering some time there too.”
“That would be great. Have you made mention of her going to the police?”
“No, I just try and let her know I’ll be there to support her in any way I can.”
“That’s good.”
“I am a little worried about her. What if she needs me while I’m in Arkansas? I tried to get her to come home with me but she declined. Kyle said he’d pick up the support slack.”
“So you’re going back home?”
“Yes.”
“Aren’t you excited?”
“Yes, it will be great seeing old friends. Maybe I’ll see Thorpe and Nina,” I laughed.
“Are you going to see your mother?”
“Yeah,” I said mournfully.
“Aren’t you excited about seeing your mother?”
“Should I be?”
The guilt regarding my now active sexual life with Pierce continued to weigh heavily on me. Every morning when Sheila and I had our prayer calls, I ended my prayer asking for strength. When I tried to talk with Sheila about it she would simply say, “Lust is a part of the body. The body is weak.”
Just As I Am Page 15