When we walked through the front door and entered the family room, full of approximately fifty people yelling “surprise”, he seemed both shocked and relieved.
Yet, ever since then, my night has seemingly been one out of the Twilight Zone. Veronica has been uncontrollable. She’s been grabbing me around my waist, kissing my cheek, and basically playing it way too close to still be considered strictly a platonic friend. Everyone noticed but shrugged it off with a laugh as if she was just embarrassingly acting out because of the liquor. But Tricey and I know what the real deal is.
As I sat on the kitchen counter trying to figure out how to check Veronica without making her act a further fool, Tricey came storming into the kitchen with an all too annoyed look on her face.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“I am so fucking irritated,” Tricey answered, rolling her eyes in the back of her head.
“What’s wrong?”
“Bridget keeps texting Amiel.”
“She’s always texting him.”
“No, tonight she’s extra drama-licious with it. Everything is wrong with her; her stomach hurts, she thinks she’s having contractions, and her head hurts.”
I laughed at her misery. “Wow! Isn’t she barely seven months?”
“Yes, but, apparently, she’s damn near dilating!”
“Stop lyin’.”
“Okay, I am exaggerating, but she claims she’s having contractions and needs him right away. It’s so fucking annoying. I know she’s just doing it because she’s been calling him all night and he’s not answering the phone. She knows that he is with me. She is such a bitch.” With an evident pout, Tricey sat next to me on the kitchen counter saying, “She gotta fuck up everything.”
“How is she fucking up your night?”
“Just hearing her name irritates me because it’s never followed by anything good. How can you be so damn desperate for attention that you’ll claim you’re having contractions? That bitch has Munchausen’s disease!”
I fell out laughing.
“I’m serious,” Tricey whined. “Every other day it’s some new illness with this chick.”
“She just wants her husband to be home with her.”
“But can she wait until I get me some dick first?! Damn! Then when he doesn’t answer her text messages, she sends him a text asking him to bring her some water. Water! You mean to tell me that your twenty-eight year old ass ain’t capable of getting your own damn water? My sister was sixteen when she had her baby and not nan-motherfucka had to stop what they was doin’ to get her some water!”
“At least she ain’there actin’ a fool,” I said, referring to Veronica.
“Girl, what the hell is up with that?”
“I told you she was trippin’,” I told Tricey as I shook my head. “I’m ready for her to go, but I’m scared she’s going to act up even more if I try to make her leave.”
“I’ll say something to her,” Tricey assured me.
Just then, Veronica walked into the kitchen. I was too disgusted with her actions to pretend as if nothing was wrong.
“Bradley said what’s taking you so long with the ice,” Tricey told me.
That was my cue to bounce so that she can holler at Veronica.
“Be back, y’all,” I said hopping off the counter. “Gotta go play the hostess with the mostess.”
Too bad Veronica was acting such a fool, because she looks so good tonight. She has on a blue jean long sleeved Dereon jumpsuit that hugged every curve on her body and even gave her some that she didn’t have. The four inch boots hiked her ass in the air making it appear even bigger. I think she dressed that way just to make it harder for me. She was always good at teasing the shit out of me.
TRICEY
“So that talk I had with you earlier didn’t mean anything to you, huh?”
Veronica simply leaned against the refrigerator with a lot of attitude. She was acting like a big kid, but I couldn’t blame her. I felt on the inside how she looked on the outside. I too was tired of another motherfucker getting my love’s attention.
She simply asked me, “What are you talking about?”
“And you’re still going play stupid? Okay, Veronica. Keep on playing and you’re going to push her away.”
“Getting married isn’t the farthest away she can get?”
“But basically outing her at her fiancé’s party isn’t cool.”
She laughed, saying, “I was just fucking with her. Nobody caught on to that but you, and that’s only because you already know.”
I was so frustrated that my liquor was wearing off. An hour ago, I was drunk and anticipating leaving because drunk sex with Amiel is the best sex. Then Veronica starting acting out, followed by Bridget and her Munchausen’s- thus sealing the sober reality deal.
Just then, Amiel came walking in. As soon as he saw Veronica, he started to laugh.
Again, Veronica played dumb. “What are you laughing at?”
He answered, “You. Why you actin’ a fool? You tryin’ to get Lyric caught up?”
I immediately added my two cents. “See? I told you it was noticeable.”
“Okay, okay, okay,” Veronica said with a giggle. “I quit. I’m just frustrated, okay? You would be too if you were in this situation.”
Then Amiel gave me a guilty look. He knew that I was in a situation just as fucked up as Veronica and Lyric’s. You know you’re in a fucked up relationship when it’s referred to as a “situation”.
“I just think you should chill out. Be frustrated with her all you want, but don’t cause any drama here,” I told Veronica.
“Right. Just chill out, girl,” Amiel said as he playfully pinched her arm. “Go find you some brotha out there to push up on.”
I teased Veronica by saying, “She don’t like boys.”
“Yes, I do.”
“I’ve never seen you with one.”
Amiel interrupted, “That’s 'cuz Lyric got her whipped!”
Veronica laughed and flipped him off as she walked out.
Amiel walked towards the counter that I was sitting on and stood between my legs as he wrapped his arms around my waist. I loved Amiel being against me because he was so big. I loved a big guy because his weight makes me feel so petite. Amiel was about 6’3” and a good two-hundred and eighty pounds with broad shoulders, big arms and even bigger legs. He worked out and played basketball every now and then, so he was in good shape- not to mention the work out he gets when he’s throwing me around the bedroom. I love the way he man-handles me. He always keeps me guessing. One moment, he’s pulling my hair, then he’s gently choking me, and then he’s throwing me over on my stomach. I loved the aggression that oozed from him.
“What’s wrong with you?”
I quickly answered, “Nothing.”
It was hard to decide when to voice my frustrations and anger about our “situation”. Bridget brings so much stress into his life that when he’s around me, I just want to keep a smile on his face. Arguing is too much like his marriage, and Lord knows that I don’t want to be in any comparison to that.
A few hours later, I was able to take my aggravations out on Amiel in a way that benefited the both of us. During the party, as we passed one another or danced together, he would whisper into my ear what he couldn’t wait to do to me, where he wanted to put his face, and how bad he missed being inside of me. So, no sooner than the DJ announced that it was the last song, I left my car parked in front of Lyric’s house and climbed into the passenger side of Amiel’s black 2008 Escalade ESV. During the ride down the road to my condo, Amiel’s fingers traveled up my dress and inside of me. I was leaking from anticipation before he even touched me. The expectancy of our sex always drove me crazy. Amiel more than made up for the time that I spent celibate last year. Though I broke the celibacy streak with Damion, Amiel’s antagonistic sex, chocolate life-sized dick, and football build took the crown.
I was so sexually attracted to Amiel that I had a craving
for him to be in my mouth when he wasn’t even around. I imagined what I would do to him as we held conversations about everything but sex. So, the longer his fingers played with me, the more I wanted him. Soon, I was bent over in the passenger seat with my face in his lap. The power in my desire took him by surprise, so as I sucked and kissed with appreciation of his manhood, I could feel the truck slightly swaying from side to side. My mouth seemed to water with gratitude because it lived to service him.
Suddenly, the truck stopped and the ignition turned off. Amiel lifted me up and pushed me back into my seat. The sight of my wet mouth seemed to turn him on and our lust gravitated to one another. We kissed as if it was for the first time. We touched and sucked as if we were on an exciting scavenger hunt. My dress was around my waist as he lifted my private to his eager mouth. The abundance of my moisture greeted him with sincere thanks. As he orally caressed my pussy, I sang a song of satisfaction along with Raheem Devaughn that was providing the soundtrack to our sex.
It was as if Amiel was hungry for me. There was no gentle approach or bashfulness in his taste. He verbally attacked my pussy so demandingly that I ran against the window and fought his tongue. I would thrust against his face and he fought my attempts by sending the tip of his tongue up my slippery channel. He would leave the hood of my clitoris to find my pearl, and I seemed to howl towards the moon. He was so unrelenting in his oral gift. The more my moans told on my fulfillment, the hungrier he became. His mouth was so generous, and I couldn’t wait to get him home to show him my admiration for his love.
But before I could run far enough to stop his meal, I felt the prize coming. My silence told him that my end was near. He bore down on his focus and intensified his approach. I shamelessly thrust against his face, and he so willingly complied with the mission. Soon, I cried out long and at a high pitch, shaming myself for sounding like a retard.
FOUR
Sunday, November 16, 2008
TRICEY
On Sunday afternoon, I met Vic at Leona’s in Hyde Park. It felt like I hadn’t seen her in ages, when it’s actually only been two weeks.
“So how was the party?”
“It was cool, for the most part,” I answered.
As we waited for our main course of buffalo wings and French-fries, Vic and I sat at the bar sipping Cherry Long Island Iced Teas. Mine was a double shot to help ease my frustrations that still lingered from Friday night.
“For the most part? What does that mean?”
“Well, Bradley was happy as hell because Lyric put him under the impression that he was going to spend his birthday laid up with her, rather than drunk with his homeboys. The party was packed. Most of the beauticians and barbers from his shop were there, including his friends and some of his family. It was a really nice turn out.”
“But?”
“But you know it had to be some drama. Veronica started acting out.”
Vic’s eyes bucked in response.
“Apparently, she’s been having issues with Lyric marrying Bradley,” I explained. “I guess she thought Lyric was just going through a phase or something.”
“But I thought they weren’t in a relationship.”
“They aren’t officially girlfriends. Lyric has always made it clear to Veronica that she wanted to get married and have children…with a man… She makes it very clear that she loves Bradley. Though she and Veronica have been messing around for over a year, she has never asked Veronica not to date other men or women,” I clarified. “So it’s strange that she is acting so surprised that Lyric is really marrying Bradley.”
“So what was she doing?”
“Kissing her on the cheek. Grabbing her in the wrong places. Basically acting like more than a platonic friend in front of everybody. Everybody else just thought she had one too many drinks, but Lyric, Amiel, and I knew what was up.”
“Lyric better nip that shit in the bud before it blows up in her face.”
“Exactly. So what you been doin’ this weekend since you don’t have DeSire?”
A mischievous grin appeared across Vic’s face before she answered. That only meant that, once again, she had experienced one of her wonderful sex-apades. Every time we talk, Vic is telling me about one night after another of wonderful sex. She has a handful of regulars that she juggles every week or two to keep her juices flowing. Many would say that she’s acting out because she’s not over Taij, and I would agree. Vic has never mourned the death of their relationship. One minute, she was changing the locks, and the next, she was filling the love gap with nights of emotionless sex.
But to each its own. When she’s ready to deal, I’ll be here for her. And as she picks through men to find the dicks with magical moves, I’ll be here to listen to the great stories.
“I hung out with Mike.”
“Oooo,” I said with a smile. “The big dick dope boy.”
“He is not in the dope boy league. He barely sells weed. He should just be a damn porn star. That’s his best bet.”
“You talk about him so bad. So what if the boy has hood dreams.You’re dating him,” I said a-matter-of-factly.
“Fucking him,” Vic replied, correcting me. “I have a date with Vince later though.”
Vince. I like Vince for Vic because he adores her, but because of her refusal to emotionally commit to the penis, she’s been ignoring his offers of a relationship, while respecting his attraction to her and their friendship by courting him every now and then.
“I’m so jealous of your free spirit,” I told her. “When I was single, I couldn’t wait to be in love. Now that I am in love, I envy being careless.”
“You weren’t single before you fell in love with Amiel.”
Instantly, I rolled my eyes at the reminder while saying, “Tunde and Damion don’t count.”
Tunde was my Nigerian potential last year. It was a very platonic crush since no matter the dates we had, the late nights we laid up, and the times we’ve come so close to having sex that I could imagine the taste of his dick, we never had sex. He claimed that he wanted to complete his Masters, finish building his home, and gain control of his career before jumping into a relationship. He said that he needed to do all of this before committing to me because then he would be able to give me the full attention that I deserved. But no sooner than he completed his Masters, his job offered him a position in North Carolina, so he bounced. I guess that six figure salary wasn’t worth the risk of establishing a life with me, and I wasn’t at all comfortable with moving across the country with someone that I had yet to even have sex with.
During this time, I was also getting over Damion. Damion was a friend of Taij’s that Vic hooked me up with. He was on his way to the NBA when we met, courted, had sex, and then slowly fizzled into people who realized that we were just better off as friends. It was two months of fun and dating a point guard on the L.A. Lakers. But our simple like for one another wasn’t strong enough to withstand his busy schedule, the distance, and his realization that the NBA not only came with money, but also came with plenty available pussy.
VICTORIA
After I drank one too many Long Islands with Latrice, I made my way to the North Side to Vince’s condo on the beach. I loved visiting his place. Being here felt like I was out of town. The north side of Chicago was such a vast difference in appearance and people than the south side of the city.
Usually Vince and I would walk the beach that was his back yard or hang out on the balcony as he barbecued. But since it was all of forty degrees outside, he lit a fire, turned on the comedyBaby Mama to make us laugh, and cuddled with me in the love seat. The way he constantly rubbed my shoulders and kissed my cheeks was so sweet. Vince is such a gentle and warm man; a big difference from the rough necks that I’ve been attracted to lately. He was 6 feet with a dark chocolate coating, dark features, light brown eyes, full suckable lips, and a sexcellent build. He gave off such a rough neck appeal with various tattoos and muscles. In contrast to his outer appearance, his heart was as
harmless as a butterfly. He was the picture perfect man for a woman who was looking to be wifed. He yearns to get married and looks forward to the pitter patter of little feet as his wife cooks a full course meal in the kitchen.
So, obviously, he’s all wrong for the way that I feel right now.
However, I do realize that the treatment that Vince gives me is so rare that I should take advantage of it while it’s being offered to me. I am just careful not to give his heart the wrong impression.
“How have you been?”
“Good,” he answered. “Missing you.”
“I missed you too.”
“What have you been up to this weekend?”
Visions of Mike bending me over in his bedroom raced into my mind, and I suddenly got erotic chills. Then the reminder of Sam’s text message just before I got here asking me what I was doing tonight ignited another set of erotic chills. Sam was a beast in the bedroom; so much of a beast that I can only have sex with him every two weeks at the most.
I question my ability to possibly handle him this evening after the ride Mike gave me just two days ago.
“Nothing really,” I simply answered. “Enjoying my time without the brat…”
“DeSire is not a brat,” he said with a small chuckle.
“That’s only because you don’t live with her. Have her full-time, and then tell me what your impression of her is.”
“I’ll take her from you. I like her more than I like you.”
I believed him too. DeSire has tagged along with us on many occasions; especially in the summer when she can play on the beach. His minor relationship with my daughter is another reason why I must be so careful with Vince. I don’t even think Mike knows that I have a daughter. There were just certain things that I didn’t get into when it came to my “hoes”. Their purpose is to fuck me and fuck me only; deep conversation not included. They are purely fuckable while Vince is marriage material; some shit that my heart is just not ready for at this stage of the game.
Good Girls Ain't No Fun Boxed Set (The SIX romance and urban fiction volumes of the LOVE, SEX, LIES series) Page 7