A Tale of Two Lovebirds
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June is too hot to wear anything but sundresses in Atlanta, but on this trip I would surely need to pack a variety of things to wear. I was going home. It had been more than a year since I moved to New York City and I was looking forward to this trip back to the dirty south. I was going to do some shopping and of course hang with my partners to get in some trouble. That wasn’t the only reason for my trip. WE were finally going to meet. It wasn’t your typical internet hookup. Blake and I had met debating the merits of bisexuality and Black Unity and a host of other heated topics for the better part of three years. The bond was formed quickly and had endurance to say the least. We flirted, we argued, and on that rare light night occasion, we had even sexed it up hot and heavy, all on instant messenger of course. Actually, we had never even spoken on the phone, in fact, I’d never even seen a picture of him. The pretense of our meeting was just a friendly lunch. You know, to finally meet each other face to face. My plane was late arriving at Hartsfield/Jackson, so I emailed him to tell him that we had to reschedule for dinner.
For the first time in my life, I was staying in a hotel in Atlanta. It seems all my friends had families, children and lovers that were not conducive to my black ass having an extended stay in their houses. I took Marta directly to the hotel and I had every intention of taking advantage of all the amenities before my date. You know, manicure, pedicure, massage, facial, mineral mud thingie, a sea salt whatchamacallit, the works. What the hell! I could afford it. I was a legitimate writer. Paid and everything. Well, it wasn’t a date, it was more like a reunion. We were like family, the regulars on my yahoo group. This was far from a date. All my pampering put me behind schedule as I looked at the clock and yelled. ‘Holy shit. 6:30! There is no way I’m going to be ready when he arrives.’
I unpacked my things and tried on every outfit I brought. Every time I tried on something I would scream at the mirror, ‘Oh my God, I can’t wear this! This is too trashy. This isn’t sexy enough…. I look too fat…. Yuck, why did I ever buy this?’ Nothing seemed to be right. I had to prove to him that I really am all that I had bragged about. When all was said and done, I choose a pair of black leather shorts and a halter-top from bebe and my black leather knee high boots. It was way too sexy, but I put on my jacket to make it more conservative if it could be. I planned on taking off my jacket at the opportune moment, making his mouth drop, then calling it a night. It’s a good damn thing he wasn’t on time. It gave me just enough time to put on my makeup and throw all my clothes into drawers and turn the TV on and act like I had been waiting impatiently for him to arrive. Sure enough there was a knock at the door the second I made myself comfortable.
I was hoping that there was going to be some physical attraction but I was prepared for the worst. I kept repeating to myself, ‘Get ready, he is going to be a troll that lives under a bridge. Don’t look disappointed. This is just a friendly meeting.’
‘Hi, It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,’ I said, ‘Come on in.’ I closed the door as he walked past me. Holy shit, it was going to be a long night. That’s all I could think when he walked past me. This fine specimen of ebony masculinity was standing there in my hotel suite looking too good for words. He took my breath away. His smooth caramel complexion was set off by a dazzling white smile and if you look up the word memorizing in the dictionary, a picture of his eyes would be there. There was no way in hell that anybody should look that good. Every man I’ve every met from the internet was 5’6′ with white tube sock showing beneath his pants that were too short and too tight, jailhouse tattoos, wearing a Hawaiian shirt, with the social skills of a leper. How in the hell is this motherfucker going to show up at my door looking and smelling this damn good. God was playing some sort of terrible trick on me. I stood there in disbelief and tried to play it off. I made every attempt to appear like his Fine azz didn’t even phase me, but DAMN. I graciously accepted his offer of flowers and brandy. It was a nice touch he remembered from a message of mine long, long ago that I had a weakness for brandy. I called the concierge to have a vase for the flowers sent up immediately.
All I could manage to think to myself was, ‘OK, think quick girl. You are no sack of potatoes, throw him off guard.’ I’m sure all I had to do was distract him a little bit, gain an advantage. That’s what this was all about. Power. All the arguing and bickering was nothing but a pissing contest to prove who had the bigger dick. Granted, mine was only theoretical, but it was substantial none the less. I needed him to know that I could hold my own with the best of them. If only he would submit to my superior will and intellect and this would be a relatively painless night. I felt like a damn coach of a high school football team trying to psyche up the players for the big game, only I was trying to convince myself that I was the one in control. It wasn’t working.
I calmly asked him, ‘Aren’t you going to give me a hug?’ Wouldn’t you know it, this son of a bitch had the nerve to put his arms inside my jacket when he hugged me. That meant his hands were on my bare flesh. I was aware of every inch of my body against his. The muscles in my thighs were tensed against the fronts of his pants as I stood on my tiptoes to reach him. My midriff felt the cool sensation of his belt buckle. My breasts were crushed against his well developed, muscular chest. My arms were around his neck. Of course I was trying to rub my little thing up on him to see if I could feel his dick. I closed my eyes and got lost in the embrace. He must have felt the same chemistry because I felt his hands start caressing the flesh of my back, almost instinctively moving to feel my ass. BINGO! I knew I had him. I pushed away with the most wicked smile. ‘Hey, are you trying to feel me up?’
Why wait for a response? I knew the answer. I turned around to pretend to pick something up and to give him a better view of the ass he had been invited to kiss so many times, in the heat of argument and of passion. I heard him say ‘damn’ under his breath.
‘Did you say something?’ I turned around quickly and he was smack dab in my face. For the first time we made serious, intentional, prolonged eye contact. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I was frozen. He was looking into the very depths of my soul. He grabbed me by the waist, pulled me to him and (knock, knock, knock) ‘Room service, you called for a vase ma’am?’
All I could think was, ‘OK Maxine, pull yourself together girl. Yes, he might be fine, but remember your standards, your principles, your objectives. You are not looking for a casual fuck so just get over it.’ With that said, I set out to enjoy the rest of the evening. All I had to do was change my perspective. Blake was just like one of my boys. I had plenty of male friends who were top shelf, and with each and every one of them, we had that initial uncomfortable stage in the beginning with sexual tension. This was no different. In time, I would see him just like one of my brothers.
‘So, Maxi, how do you like my fair city? Hot enough for ya?’ he said.
‘You forget, I lived here for nine years. This will always be home to me. And it’s good to be home,’ I replied, sitting next to him. ‘
It’s your call, your night. What should we get into?’ He was quick to move the evening forward.
I poured him a brandy as he sat beside me on the couch. His nearness was affecting me but I tried my best not to let it show. He finished his brandy and had another while I nursed my first one slowly, I didn’t want it to go straight to my head. My bet was that he was a little nervous too and didn’t want to show it. I started playing with his tie as we chatted for a while, about careers, the weather, p
olitics, sex. All the stuff that made it good. It being our little cyber tryst, that is. His closeness, as much as the brandy, was intoxicating. It was time to make a move before I did something I would regret. I turned the conversation back to our night. ‘Well, what do you want to do with me?’
‘I think I need some food in my stomach to help absorb some of this alcohol. Besides I’m starving. I read about this new hotspot in Buckhead in Creative Loafing last week and I’ve been wanting to check it out and I thought we would hit that get some dinner, hear some music. Sound good to you mami? ‘.
‘Sounds good to me kind sir, I’m prepared to be entertained, wined, and dined for the evening.’
‘Great. I hope you don’t mind but I made arrangements and there’s a town car downstairs waiting for us.’
It was a great Atlanta night. Temperate with a cool breeze. There’s always so much going on in the city keeping it abuzz. I settled back into the plush seat and closed my eyes in comfort. Yeah, tonight was going to be about fun. No work. No outside pressures. Trust Northside Drive to have a pothole or two and at the appropriate bump, I used it as an excuse to slide up close to Blake. He took my hand, interlocked fingers, and nonchalantly set them on his lap. ‘I’m glad you’re taking some of my advice for a change little girl.’ He knew I didn’t like him calling me that but what the hell? What could I do, go offline? Turn off the computer? I had to just enjoy the ride, literally and figuratively.
‘Advice?’ I queried, unsure of what he was talking about.
‘Getting out. Having you some fun. Not being so serious and tight-assed about saving the world all the time’.
‘You know what? Why don’t you kiss my entire black ass?’ I said pouting.
‘I’m just teasing you, don’t be mad,’ he laughed. He pulled me to him. ‘Give me a hug. And what is your fascination with my mouth on your ass?’ As we embraced his mouth brushed the side of my neck and I’m sure he could feel me twitch. ‘Damn baby, you smell so good,’ he said. Before I knew it, we were kissing deeply and fully in the mouth. His hands were about my waist as I leaned into him–then I realized what was happening and I abruptly stopped. ‘Hey, hey, hey we need to slow things down a bit.’
‘It’s okay. We’re friends, friends can kiss. No harm done,’ he reassured me.
As we exited the car his hand found its place on the small of my back. ‘I have to wonder though, Maxine . . . ‘
‘Wonder what?’ I questioned, having no clue what he was talking about.
‘You’re not an easy woman. Some might say difficult. You’re not going to give yourself to any man without him earning the honor–so when was the last time you were sexed up like you need to be?’
‘That is none of your mother fucking business. Last time I checked, I was a grown ass woman, I don’t have to report to anybody. You know what you crass, ignorant bastard, I could say some really foul shit right now but I’m not going to. You just don’t know where to draw the line. Fuck you, I should have known you were nothing more than an arrogant, pompous, proper ass.’
Fuck! Me and my big mouth. I had ruined the whole tone of the evening. I couldn’t help it. He had touched a raw nerve. My reaction was instinctual and defensive. That was the only way I knew to have him back up off me. Truth be told, it had been months since I had even been touched by a man, well over a year since I had had sex, and I couldn’t remember the last time I had been dicked the right way. In fact, his touch was the closest thing I had come to intimacy in a long, long, long, long time.
I saw the look of hurt in his eyes. ‘I’m sorry Max, I didn’t mean to offend you.’ Damn, why did he had the nerve to make me feel even guiltier.
‘I apologize. I guess my frustration got the best of me. I’m going to be really honest with you. I’m doing the best I can here not to want you. It’s difficult. I’m attracted to you on many different levels. Maybe this was not such a good idea. I’ll understand if you want to call it a night.’
I held my breath hoping he would dismiss my childish behavior and be able to really have fun. I didn’t even get a chance to wait for his response. ‘MAAXXX!, is that you?’ I couldn’t believe it. My old roommate, Bobby Sahara, was the manager at the club. I grabbed Blake by the hand and pulled him into the club, VIP style no less. My old roommate hooked us up with drinks and food, the best table in the house, the whole nine. I knew I had to address my little irrational display outside. I put my arms around him, hugged him really close, looked into his eyes, and said, ‘I’m really sorry, please forgive me.’
He kissed me on the forehead and said, ‘It’s ok little girl, I understand you can’t help but be frustrated around me because I’m so fine. It’s cool.’
I almost peed my pants I laughed so hard. That was his way of saying that he forgave me. We put it behind us and went on to enjoy one of the best meals I’d had in a long time. We laughed, we joked, and of course we argued, but it was all in good fun. We drank, and laughed and drank some more. We even fed each other dessert. It started getting a little too hot and sticky for me. He excused himself to go to the bathroom. No sooner than he walked away from the table, this other brotha sat down across from me and threw his best game. I’m not going to lie, he was attractive but he was just a bit too one-dimensional for me. I played along because I really needed the distraction. I had been having all sorts of erotic fantasies about Blake during dinner and I had been rationalizing why it wouldn’t be so bad to get hot and sweaty with him for just one night. Under any other circumstances, the thought of a one night stand would make my flesh crawl. When Blake came back I introduced him to Malik (I think that was his name) who asked, ‘You don’t mind if I ask the lady to dance, do you?’
Blake couldn’t have been happier to get rid of me. ‘Naw man, she’s all yours man, have a good time,’ like he was my damn pimp or something. I took off my jacket and handed it to Blake and asked him to hold it for me. No sooner did we get to the dance floor than the DJ started his reggae set.
We were dancing for a while when Blake interrupted, ‘Max. Let me holla for a minute. ‘Cuse us cuz. Look, you met someone, y’all doing y’all thing. It’s been a good evening. I’m not trying to block your grown woman business or nothing. I’m thinking I should leave the town car and catch a taxi home, that way you can do what you like and not be anchored down. You two look like this could get . . . personal and I’m not trying to block, nahimsayin. Holla, tell me how it goes’.
Girl code 342 Section 2 Paragraph 4 specifically states: that if you go to the club with your partner you leave with your partner. Those are the rules. Blake knew nothing of such secret girl codes. Tyrik (maybe that was it, why can’t I remember that child’s name?) was NOT the type of man that I would get personal with. There was no use trying to explain that when his dick was pressed up against my ass and I was grinding on him. That was cool with me however. But Bobby was the manager, and if I didn’t feel safe with him to protect me, then I would never feel safe. Besides, I was so hot for Blake, that at the slightest invitation, I would be ass up on the balcony of my suite and screaming out his name. No, it was better for him to leave. He was too much of a temptation.
We were saying our goodbyes and he gave me the coat check ticket for my jacket and maybe we took just a little too long because when I looked up, Rashaan (Okay, okay, I wasn’t paying attention when he told me his name) was on the other side of the dance floor dancing with someone else. Blake decided to take advantage of the situation and scooped me up in his arms and started dancing with me. I can’t front, he looked so damned sexy. I was crazy about the way Blake looked, the way he smelled, the way he moved. The chemistry he and I shared was out of th
is world. I could feel his hands on my flesh and his body pressed against mine. My thoughts got way more explicit. I was standing there fantasizing about him ramming his dick up in my hot, wet, pussy over and over again, making me scream, and fucking me senseless. I could feel my legs wrapped around his body and him holding my ass, sliding me up and down on his dick. In my mind, I was kissing him and sucking him and fucking him and… The next thing you know, I got one of those hot flashes and was I standing there trying to figure out, in the back of my mind, how I was going to explain the stain on my leather shorts to my dry cleaner.
I wanted Blake, he wanted me, and there was nobody else in the club at that moment besides he and I. I was out of my mind. All of a sudden, nothing else mattered except being with him. I opened my eyes and I was staring into Blake’s eyes again. As much as I wanted him right then and there, for all the shit I had talked online about how I was going to seduce him, I didn’t know what to do. I wanted him there in the club, in the town car, in my hotel room, in the goddamn fountain at Centennial Olympic Park. Fuck, everywhere I could have him, I needed him. I wanted to kiss him again, but I was scared. Reality is a bitter pill to swallow and I knew that as much as I wanted him up inside me at that very instant, that hooking up with him meant that I’d be back in NYC in a couple of days, alone, feeling like a notch on a bedpost. I swore to myself that I would never be that woman again and I was committed to only sharing myself with someone who valued all of me, for the long run, not just what was between my legs for a night.
My eyes were closed as my body clung to Blake’s, swayed with his, given to him like a sheet hung on the laundry line on a humid summer day. His hands went from my ass up the column of my naked back, back to my ass again. He turned me around and pressed me tightly to him, his arms locked about my just below my breasts. My hand reached back and clung to the back of his neck. His tongue played with my earlobe and we danced and grinded and swayed. Before I knew what was happening, we had retrieved my jacket said good-bye to Bobby and departed the club.
Before the driver could open the car door Blake pulled me to him and started kissing me again. He tasted my lips, explored my tongue, and we kissed and grunted and gasped for breath. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have,’ he said.
Pulling away, I said, ‘I’m going to stop now while I still can. Please Blake, from here on out think and think carefully about what you do or say. You feel the fire between us. The longing. The need. I’m just a woman. A good woman yes, but there is only so much temptation I can bear. You know better than most that I can’t handle being someone’s fling or conquest. I don’t want to ruin what could be a solid friendship and I’m not interested in being just another piece of ass so think carefully before we do something that will leave me nursing hurt feelings.’
The ride back to the hotel was quiet. I rested my head on his chest. He messaged my neck. It was a sweet and sober time, one of reflection and contemplation. We arrived at my room. I gave him a big hug, a soft kiss, muttered goodbye, and turned– fiddling with the door.
He placed his hands on my shoulders. ‘Can’t a brother come in for a nightcap?’
‘Look Blake, here’s the deal. Let’s not play games or pretend here. I’m telling you now, the thought of fucking you is an erotic dichotomy. I want you, I need you more than I care to admit. But I am also well aware of the ramifications. When you leave, I’ll be just another notch in your belt. You have to ask yourself are you comfortable using me? You know better than anyone, I’ve been saving myself for my soul mate. Are you willing to take what belongs to him? We’ve known each other long enough, you know what I want and need. If you can’t be that man, don’t cross that threshold. You and I are connected, it’s deep, it’s hot, it’s passionate and intense. If you come in, make no mistake about it, I’m going to fuck you. And I’m going to do it very well I might add. But like I let you know before, it’s your decision. If you come in, I intend to ride your fingers, your mouth, and your dick for my pleasure over and over again. If you come in, I expect you to fuck me until I pass out, and then do it some more. But also know that my heart comes along with the package. Know that if you don’t intend to really work at being in a relationship with me, of making this real and substantial, that you’ll kill a part of me inside. You have to ask yourself if you are willing to break my heart just so you can fulfill your lust or if I mean more to you than just a roll in the hay.’
Maddy
- 16.08.2022
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