My phone chimed, letting me know I had received a text. It was from Raheem.
Hey, sexy! I’ll be there! I gotta have you tonight. I’ve been thinking about your sexy ass all week.
I smiled and felt butterflies of excitement. I loved that even through a text, he made me feel desired.
“Look at her. She got a text from Raheem, and she’s blushing and shit. I think you should just be with him and cut Chris off,” Vivian said.
Vivian and Chloe high-fived. I ignored them and continued to enjoy my cigarette.
* * *
We stood outside the club, waiting for Lindsey to park her SUV so we could all go inside together. Five minutes later Lindsey appeared, and we went in. The place was packed. We walked to the bar, got drinks, and headed to the dance floor. Plenty of men begged to dance with me, but I turned them down. I wanted to dance with only one man, Raheem. I wondered when he would arrive.
An hour later, Raheem stepped into the club, looking as fine as ever. He was nowhere near as muscular as Chris, who was built like Michael Jai White, but Raheem was more handsome. He looked similar to Shemar Moore. His rich caramel complexion and his dreamy pair of chocolate-brown puppy-dog eyes were to die for. I turned my back and pretended not to see him. Raheem walked up to me, draped his arms around me, and kissed the back of my neck. I smiled, turned around, and faced him. Raheem slipped his arm around my waist and pulled me close to him. I threw my arms around his neck, and he stared in my eyes and kissed me.
“Hey, baby,” he said in his deep, sexy voice.
“Hey.”
His big strong hands caressed my arms and sent shivers down my body.
“I love when you touch me,” I said.
“I love touching you.”
My girls were looking at me. Lindsey and Judy were shaking their heads. Chloe and Vivian were smiling and laughing.
“Get it, girl!” Chloe said, then laughed at me some more.
I giggled and waved her off.
“You look good, baby,” Raheem said, rubbing his hands up and down my body.
“Thanks. So do you. Was traffic bad getting here?”
“Nah. I had an argument with my wife before I could sneak out to get here. She was trippin’, but I got here as soon as I could. I needed to see you tonight.”
Ugh. Whenever he brought up his wife, it woke me up from my fantasy world and brought me back to reality. I quickly pushed those thoughts away and went back to having fun.
We were all gathered around the bar, drinking shots, laughing, and having a good time, when Chris texted me.
I just got home, babe. I wanted you to know that I’m thinking about you. Have fun with your girls. I love you.
His text was sweet, but I was too drunk to care about his message. The alcohol numbed me so much that I experienced none of the guilt I would’ve felt if I were sober.
“I want you right now. Grab your purse and come with me to my truck,” Raheem whispered in my ear.
I nodded. Then I grabbed my purse and turned to follow Raheem.
“Where are you going?” Lindsey asked.
I jumped at the sound of her voice and stopped in my tracks. My words were slurred when I answered, “I’m just going . . . to talk to him . . . in his truck.”
“You’re going to talk to him, huh?”
“As good as he looks tonight, I might have a long conversation with the microphone in his pants.” I laughed.
Lindsey looked concerned. She reluctantly reached in her purse, pulled out a condom, and offered it to me. I smiled and snatched it from her hand.
Raheem and I left the club and walked to his Lexus LX truck. We climbed in the backseat and kissed. His hands hungrily caressed my body. His eyes were full of desire as he unbuttoned my tight white blouse. I excitedly unzipped his khakis and pulled out his dick. I leaned over so that I could reach down a little farther and free his balls from his briefs so all of him was exposed. I lifted his swollen dick away from where it rested against his abs and lowered my head to his lap.
I worked his cock in my mouth. I ran my tongue up the underside of it to tease him. I licked up and down the length before curling my tongue around the head and coating him with my saliva so my hand could easily slide up and down his pole. Then I gripped his cock at the top and plunged down as far and as fast as I could, stopping only to admire how the tip glistened from my saliva. With my free hand, I reached beneath him to lightly massage his balls. Raheem leaned back, with his hands behind his head, and admired the sight of me going to work on his long cock.
“Oh fuck, Karen,” he said as his eyes closed and his head dipped back against the headrest.
Next, I deep throated him with even more fervor while I massaged his balls. That drove him crazy. Before long he stopped me, pulled down my skirt, and ripped off my thong. I opened the condom wrapper Lindsey had given me and rolled the condom on him. I maneuvered myself on top of his dick. My eyes rolled back at the feeling of his long, veiny cock slowly entering my pussy. I rode him hard as we kissed.
Raheem unhooked my bra and took my breasts in his mouth. I hooked my hands around the back of his head and increased the speed of my riding. His breathing was thick. I knew he was close to cumming. I felt so powerful and desirable as I made this handsome man lose all composure by being in my pussy. The excitement from fucking him in his car, the intensity of feeling so sexually in tune, and my attraction to him got me close too.
“Oh, shit. Fuck me,” I begged.
“Say my name,” he demanded.
“Fuck me, Raheem.” I screamed his name over and over. The dirty talk was definitely getting both of us off.
When Raheem raised his hips, his penis touched a nerve in me that sent me over the edge. The tingling sensation radiated all over my body, and I moaned in delight. We held each other and panted as we came together. I swiftly grabbed his cock and sucked on the head. I knew he was sensitive, but I liked seeing him squirm. I playfully held him in my mouth for a few more seconds, gently deep throating his softening dick. When he finally pulled away from me, he looked beyond satisfied.
He pulled me back up to him and kissed me. Those butterflies from earlier returned. We dressed each other and held hands as we walked back to the club. I didn’t care what my friends thought of me. I was having my cake and eating it too.
Chris
I slept uncomfortably in my truck. No matter which way I moved on the firm leather seats, I couldn’t relax. I rested my head on the window and leaned my back against the side of the door, but that was so uncomfortable. I sat up straight behind the steering wheel, with my seat reclined. I was still uncomfortable. I rested my head on the side of the door and lay flat on the seats. Impossible. I just couldn’t get comfortable. I felt the same way about my marriage.
Talking to Lindsey had made me feel somewhat better, but I still had a gnawing feeling that something was wrong. That night when Karen allegedly hung out with Lindsey, I had pretended to be asleep after Karen and I agreed I would talk to Lindsey in the morning. But I had heard Karen text someone once my fake snoring convinced her I was asleep. Had she sent a text to Lindsey, asking her friend to cover her? Or had she sent a text to someone else? I didn’t think Karen would cheat on me. I prayed to God she wasn’t cheating, but there was no doubt we were drifting apart.
I’d been doing overtime at my construction gig and taking some side jobs with my Pops to make extra money to take the family on vacation. Karen and I needed to get away from our regular routines. I knew I hadn’t been spending enough time with her or the girls, but I hoped she would understand that I was doing the best I could to balance being a good provider, a husband, and a father. I needed this trip. I needed to feel alive again, even if only for two weeks.
Lately, I’d been feeling dead inside. I worked all the time. Even when I was off, I was still working in some capacity. For instance, sometimes Pops needed help with different projects, and I couldn’t afford to turn down extra money, not when I had so many bills to p
ay. Karen worked hard too, but her job was easier than mine. I’m not saying her job didn’t have its stress, but my job was physically and mentally draining. Thankfully, Karen was no slouch. She contributed. We split everything sixty-forty. We could split everything fifty-fifty, but I felt a man still had to be a man.
Whenever there was a gift-giving occasion, I went all out with a thought-out gift for Karen, something that I knew she would want and use. She used to match my effort, but now I felt like she didn’t even try. Nowadays, for my birthday, Father’s Day, or our anniversary, she gave me only a card. It was like it didn’t matter when it came to me, but if it were the other way around and I handed her just a card, she would be ready to rip my head off.
Don’t get me wrong. Whenever I gave Karen a gift, I did it out of love. I never bought her gifts with the expectation that I would get something better in return. It was not the fact that she wasn’t getting me material things that troubled me. It was the fact that she made no effort to do things that would make me happy. Everything was about her and her feelings. Most times, I held my tongue, out of fear that I’d say something that would spark a big argument. Everything I did for Karen was out of love, but when the same love and sincerity weren’t given in return, I couldn’t help but question whether she loved me and cared for me as much as I loved her and cared for her, or if she was just too selfish and wanted always to take and never to give. These questions still bothered me.
I was not vocal when it came to expressing my feelings. I tried to make my actions speak louder than words. Right now, I was hoping Karen would understand the method to my madness when I took the family on this trip. I still had my suspicions about her. Sometimes she’d stay “late” at work and come home with her breath reeking of alcohol and cigarettes. She knew before we officially started dating that I despised cigarettes. My mother had died of lung cancer. While watching her suffer in her last days, I had promised myself I’d never date a smoker.
Sometimes Karen came home wearing heavy makeup, as if she’d been out clubbing, not working at the office. There were also times when as soon as she came home from “work,” she’d quickly jump in the shower.
“Davis! Stop spacing out over there and get back to work,” the foreman yelled, snapping me out of my daydream.
I was not concentrating on my job. Lately, I couldn’t focus on anything. I had too much going on, and it was affecting my work. Often I was so exhausted from everything that was going on that I slept in my truck at the site to avoid the commute into Manhattan and thus give myself more time to sleep.
While I worked, I called Karen to check on her and the girls, but when we talked, it felt routine and forced. We discussed bills and problems around the house, but our conversations didn’t feel like ones a happily married couple would have. They felt mechanical. And she often rushed me off the phone because she was going to some club with Vivian, Chloe, Lindsey, and Judy. She would explain that my father was watching the kids for the night. I knew Karen needed time to relax, but I wanted time too. Ever since the girls were born, my boys Will and Lou had been distant with me. Honestly, I was envious that Karen’s friends were still there for her, because I felt abandoned by mine.
A few hours later, my shift finally ended. I was exhausted. As I was heading to the parking lot, Nadine walked up behind me and touched my shoulder to get my attention.
“Do you want to crash on my couch for a little bit before you drive home? You look like you need to sleep.”
Normally, I would’ve said no, but I was too tired to feel guilty. “Sure,” I answered.
“I don’t live too far from here. Follow me.”
Nadine got into her red Nissan Xterra, and I jumped in my truck. We exited the parking lot, and then I followed her to her place. Her house was big and impressive. The exterior was beige stucco, and it had big bay windows.
“This is a nice house,” I said as I stepped past the front door.
“Thanks . . . Despite everything, my husband let me keep it.”
I felt bad for her. I knew she was still bitter about him leaving her.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened with that?”
“My husband cheated on me with my best friend, Eva. You know how sporadic and hectic our work schedule is.”
I nodded as we stood in the foyer.
“Well, my best friend used to hang out around the house all the time, sometimes when I wasn’t home. I didn’t suspect anything, because whenever they were around each other in front of me, they acted like they were more like brother and sister than lovers.”
I trust my boys Will and Lou with my life, but even I would be skeptical if they hung out with Karen when I wasn’t home. I kept my thoughts to myself and listened as she continued.
“One weekend I was cleaning our bedroom, and I found a condom wrapper under our bed. I knew it wasn’t from us, because we never used condoms. I confronted him about it.”
“What did he say?”
“He admitted everything. He said he loved her. He told me he was glad I had found out, because it gave him the strength he needed to get a divorce. He wanted to be with her.”
“Why?”
“I asked myself that question for months. I thought there had to be something wrong with me. Maybe I wasn’t pretty enough, or maybe she had more in common with him. Maybe she was better in the sack than I was. I needed closure, so I asked him when we were signing our paperwork to finalize our divorce. He told me I wasn’t prissy enough for him. He felt that my job was too masculine, and he felt that I didn’t need him for anything. Basically, he felt I was too strong for him.” Her gaze left my eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I know I have my quirks, but I want a man who loves me and wants to be with me. It took me a while, but I realized that there were more things wrong with him than there were with me. He helped me by leaving. I wasn’t too strong for him. He was too weak for me. If he couldn’t appreciate me and love me quirks and all, then he saved us both a lot of time, headaches, and aggravation by ending things quickly the way he did. Now I can find a man who will truly love me.”
I swallowed. I thought about my fears of Karen cheating. I knew I’d be devastated if I found out she was two-timing me. I loved Nadine’s strength. When she got irritated or upset, her West Indian accent came on strong. I could tell that even though she made it sound like she was over the bad marriage, it still ate her up inside, since her accent had been on full display when she told me the story. But she hadn’t let this adversity defeat her.
Nadine went over to the hallway closet and took out two pillows and a flannel blanket.
“The couch folds out into a bed. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. I’ll wake you up in a couple of hours.”
“Thank you,” I said gratefully.
“You’re a good guy, Chris. It’s no problem.”
I stepped into the living room, opened the couch, laid the pillows down, and got comfortable. I needed to relax for a bit.
* * *
I woke up to Nadine nudging me. It took me a few seconds to realize where I was. Nadine was holding a cup of coffee, and her hair was down around her shoulders. I had to admit, she looked good. Very feminine.
“Hey, sleepyhead. I made you some coffee.”
“Thanks,” I said, sitting up. She handed me the cup.
There was a comfortable silence as I sipped my coffee. Nadine sat on the armchair across from me. She had changed into a pair of leggings that hugged her curves and a tight black V-neck shirt that made her tits look amazing. I tried to not think about how attracted I was to her by making conversation.
“So, what are you doing this weekend?” I asked.
“I don’t have any plans. I might visit my mom and dad or hang out here with my friends, but that’s about it. What about you?”
“Same here. I don’t know if my wife made plans to hang out with her girls or if she made plans for the family to go somewhere.”
“Wel
l, hopefully, you can go out as a family. It’s nice that you like to spend time with your wife and your gorgeous daughters.”
When she said that, reality hit me. I shouldn’t be here.
“Well, thank you for letting me rest up, and thanks for the coffee. I should be going.”
“It’s no problem. I wish you could stay longer.”
The look on her face told me she meant that. She looked lonely. After working with each other for so long, we were close, and I understood her. I liked all the qualities about her that she considered flaws, but I knew I had to keep my distance. Feelings like these were dangerous for a marriage. I stood up, gave her a quick hug, handed her the empty cup, and headed for the door.
“Drive safe,” she said as she followed behind me.
“Thanks again,” I answered, then walked out the front door.
About thirty minutes later I walked into my own living room, to the sight of Pops and the girls watching Wreck-It Ralph.
“Hey, Pops.”
“Hey, son. Karen left a few hours ago. I fed the girls and got them dressed for bed.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“I’m going to need your help with a basement job in Queens tomorrow.”
“No problem. What are we doing?”
“We’re going to install a new vinyl floor in the basement and new recessed lighting in the basement ceiling. If we get there early in the morning—figure around six—after cleanup we should be out of there by four in the afternoon.”
“No problem . . .” I paused for a moment. “Pops?”
“Yes?”
“Why don’t you consider moving in here and selling the old house? I don’t like that you’re there alone.”
“I need my space. I like being alone.” My father was stubborn. He always did things his way and on his terms. “Besides, you have a family. You don’t need any outside sources controlling how you raise your children. That goes for me and Karen’s sister, Chloe. You understand me, son?”
Love and Happiness Page 4
