Another Time, Another Place

by Zane

  He smiled. “That’s how love should feel.”

  His deep thrusts matched the rise of my hips in perfect time. Tongues intertwined, we smothered each other with kisses. Our breathing was labored, but not to the point of climactic heights. I moved on top of him, grinding my being into his. He closed his eyes as I leaned my body closer and flexed my muscles around his dick.

  “Umm…Jasmine, I can’t get enough of this tight-ass pussy,” he moaned.

  I arched my back and bounced up and down his glistening rod. “Ahh…Harrison. Ooh…I’m cumin’!”

  “Shit, I’m lovin’ all this sweet nectar coming from your pussy!”

  I slowed my ride back to a grind, collapsing on his chest. He positioned me on my back, and widened my limbs against his shoulders. He plunged into me. “Harrison, don’t hold back,” I whimpered.

  Harrison pressed my legs back further. “You okay?” he whispered in my ear. I nodded yes as I caressed his head, knowing that even in his most vulnerable moment, he still cared about me. My hands massaged the sweat on his back as I savored his dick thickening against my walls. Our pelvises beat like a drum. Harrison went deeper…I winced, he hollered as he climaxed. I held his shivering body firm, fully satisfied from the privilege to be one with him.

  He kissed my lips softly as our bodies rested side by side. “You’re so beautiful to me.”

  I smiled as I snuggled under the bed sheet with him. “Tell me why you think I’m beautiful.”

  “Your touch makes me feel like I can trust a woman again. You gotta way of erasin’ the pain, like it wasn’t even there. Jasmine, I need you so much. Please don’t give up on me.”

  I held his hand. “I love being with you, and I want nothing more than to share my life with you. I just hope you don’t grow tired of me.”

  He frowned as he touched my chin. “Whatcha talkin,’ woman?”

  I shrugged. “Harrison, there’s ten years between us. Every day when I look in the mirror, I see changes. A woman’s looks change.”

  He wrapped his arms around me. “Looks don’t have nothin’ to do with being beautiful, in my book. I married a good-lookin’ gal; but I pray I’ll get a chance to spend the rest of my days with a beautiful woman.”

  I blushed, looking down. “I found a gray hair down there.”

  He smiled. “I saw somethin,’ but it wasn’t gray.” He eased his hand between my thighs, and fingered my pubic curls. “What I saw was precious silver, making my heart want you more and more.” He cupped my full breasts. “You a mature woman. That’s what I love about you,” he said, removing the sheet from around me.

  Harrison kissed the faint lines of stretch marks along my hips, resting his lips on the small bulge in my midsection that had not shrunk from pregnancy. “Any man that can’t appreciate a woman’s body changin’ to bring forth life, ain’t a man. I’m never gonna give you reason to doubt yourself, Miss Jasmine. Don’t let ten years keep you wonderin’. Every new discovery gonna be good for us, and I can’t wait for the good times to come.”

  GUILTY

  Aloud bang sent Harrison and I scrambling out of bed. I was groggy from sleep, but I clearly saw Naomi’s pistol pointed at my naked body.

  “Naomi, what the hell ya doin’!” Harrison screamed, running toward her.

  “Get back!” she spat, aiming the gun at his chest. “I’ll deal with you in a minute.”

  She walked over to me, pulling my hair so hard, it made me crouch down. “I told ya this wasn’t over, bitch!”

  “Please…lemme go!” I cried from her yanking my head.

  “Naomi, don’t do this…”

  “Don’t do what, Harrison? Don’t make her beg for her life! Shut up, and stay back. You didn’t wanna talk things out before, so don’t talk to me now! This between me and this yella heifer, who think she gonna replace me.”

  “Jasmine…”

  “Don’t talk to her! Get on your knees,” she ordered, pushing me down. “You ain’t hot stuff now, are you?”

  I shook my head as tears ran down my face. My body trembled in fear as she placed the gun to my head.

  She looked at Harrison. “Go get the extra laundry rope from out back.”

  “Naomi, don’t hurt…”

  “You got two seconds to move the other way, ’fore I shoot this tramp!”

  “Harrison, do what she says!” I yelled. He ran out as she pulled me up to my feet, keeping the gun snug on my temple. “Naomi, please just lemme leave…I’ll go away, peacefully. I’ll leave Harrison be, just please.”

  “Shut up!” Naomi hollered. “I ain’t bargainin’ wit ya!” She shot a glance at Harrison holding the rope. “What took ya so long?” He gripped the rope in his hands, his brow saturated from nervousness. Naomi smirked. “I know what you was doin.’ You tried to find your other shotgun, but I got that one, too. Wives know they husbands’ hidin’ places. You too busy stickin’ it to this one, you ain’t move your guns, or change the locks. Guess you wanted me to come back, didn’t you, baby?” He kept quiet. “Didn’t you!”

  “Yeah…yes, Naomi.” He raised his hands in the air. “Now, please….”

  She shoved me into him. “Use that chair over there in the corner, and tie her up!”

  I gasped for air as I cowered against his chest. He slowly stepped to the side, with his hands in front of him. “Naomi, I wronged you, and I’m sorry. Don’t hurt Jasmine. It’s me you want.”

  “That’s right, and no one else gonna have you, but me. Tie her ass up, now!” Sorrow covered his face as I held out my wrists, and he bound them. Naomi held the gun with both hands to keep steady. She sniffled through tears. “You made me do this, Harrison! Leave me for Vietnam, and then leave me again, for her! I cheated on you, because you always found some excuse to leave me! That’s why I had Floyd’s baby! He had time for me!”

  Harrison frowned, shifting his body as if he wanted to charge at her.

  “Don’t…,” I muffled softly to him.

  “Don’t try me,” she said, getting closer to us with the gun. She shook her head at Harrison with contempt in her eyes. “You had no right to throw me out! We got vows, you and me. You run off to fix her problems, instead of fixin’ the problems in your own damn house! Tie her to the chair!”

  He did as she instructed, looking at me the whole time. My body shook as I stared at the sincerity in his eyes. I didn’t blame him for this. It was me who entertained the indiscretion that jeopardized our lives.

  Bound in the chair, I watched in horror as Naomi pointed the gun to Harrison’s penis.

  “I was never good enough for you, was I?”

  “Naomi…,” he said softly.

  “Answer me!”

  He clasped his hands in prayer fashion. “You were good, Naomi. You were good, and I’m sorry for all this. Please…”

  “Show me.” Naomi tugged at her flowered silk dress, busting all the buttons. “Show me how good,” she said, curling her lips seductively as she exposed her nude body. “Lay down on the bed, with your hands above ya head.”

  Harrison slowly backed up to the bed with his hands in the air as she pointed the gun to his chest. She groped him until he was hard, then mounted him rough.

  “Ummm…,” she moaned, rocking back and forth. “I’ma make sure you remember whose dick this is, you hear?”

  I closed my eyes, not by the scene taking place in front of me, but from the tears spewing from the corners of Harrison’s eyes.

  “Open your eyes, bitch!” she screamed at me.

  “And you open your mouth!” she hollered at him, probing the gun between his lips.

  “You willin’ to die for this pussy, huh?” she moaned, as she jerked rapidly on top of him.

  “Uhhhmm…,” Harrison groaned, nodding his head.

  She reared her head back in chilling laughter. “Well, darlin’, cum…and die!”

  I heard a snap from the gun at the same time Harrison tackled Naomi.

  “You bastard!” she cried.

 
“Harrison, no!” I screamed.

  Bang!

  “Harrison!” Naomi and I both screamed in unison.

  Bang!

  “No!” I cringed, holding my head in my hands. Harrison’s eyes bulged. He fell back hard to the floor, unconscious, as Naomi’s lifeless body collided with his.

  FULL OF FIRE

  Crimson, the color of blood. Tears, clear in color—I’d tasted the saltiness of them both, too many times. Like waves from the deep blue sea, pain can wipe you out. In the midst of a storm, you drown, or you find strength you never knew you had, to fight for your life.

  Three people, different in so many ways, soldered together by lies. Ignoring the truth, casting patience to the wind, wanting fulfillment for selfish needs. Harrison, Naomi, and I gambled with hearts, and we were forced to face tragic consequences.

  The gun jammed the first time, giving Harrison opportunity to fight. The second shot overpowered him, and I knew I’d lost another soldier whom I’d loved. Naomi witnessed the agony on Harrison’s face, blood streaming from his body as he hit the floor. It was at that moment, I believe she realized how much she loved him. Her cries of regret echoed the walls, and she put the gun to her head, taking her own life.

  LET’S STAY TOGETHER

  APRIL, 1973

  Does a year change anything? I believe it does, when you allow time to remove pride, and order your steps in its own way. Each tragedy had drawn me closer to death. Fallen lives I’d cherished, etched forever in my brain to the brink of madness. Just when I was about to give in to the storm’s tide, a miracle supplied a lifeline. Harrison survived the gunshot wound to the chest. I let go of the past, and embraced the opportunity to start over.

  I released the bitterness that had dulled my senses. I lost a father, but I was grateful to still have Gladys. The day after the shooting, I visited her new home on St. Simons Island. We embraced, talked for hours, and began a legacy that I prayed would beautifully transcend time. Her gift to me, my identity. My gift to her, forgiveness. We planned a vacation to Paris, a place where we could dream together and explore the world, happy.

  Aunt Frances had prepared a “Bon Voyage” breakfast. Everyone was gathered at the table, eating honey ham and biscuits. I felt blessed to have been given a second chance to love my family: Harrison—the best friend I married on New Year’s Day; Keenan—a sweet bundle of joy, the son we adopted; Frances—the devoted aunt, whose tough love gave me the courage to stand; and Gladys—the beautiful woman I welcomed into my mended heart. Our time together, now cherished like a rare jewel.

  ***

  Gladys and I said our good-byes and held hands as we walked along the dock. Aunt Frances held Keenan, while he waved and blew kisses. Harrison lugged our bags to the ferry. I laughed at him as he held his back, teasing me about the load of “must have” outfits that I probably wouldn’t wear. He kissed Gladys on the cheek and pulled me into his arms.

  “Good luck on your contractor’s test tomorrow,” I said, kissing him.

  He winked. “I’ll ace it.”

  “Holmes Construction, Incorporated. Sounds good to me.”

  “You sayin’ it, sounds even better. Thanks for believin’ in me.”

  I smiled as I trailed my finger over the thin mustache he’d allowed to grow above his sexy lips. “Thanks for being everything I need.”

  As the ferry pulled off, I hugged my mother tight. We released tears of joy, while sunrays trailed brilliantly along the rippling water. Dayclean in Sapelo is still beautiful. When light erases the dark velvet of night, and the sun’s warmth awakens us, hope begins.

  Shawan Lewis received her bachelor of science degree in sociology from James Madison University. After years of working in the insurance industry, Ms. Lewis stepped out on faith to pursue a career in writing. She is the author of the novels Help Wanted (2007) and Final Game (2008), published by Urban Books. In her spare time, she enjoys reading, collecting Billie Holiday memorabilia, dancing, listening to jazz music, and traveling. She resides in Baltimore, Maryland with her daughter.

  Shawan would like to thank her family, Zane, Jonathan Luckett, Urban Soul, and agent Audra Barrett for the support of her literary endeavors.

  Please visit the website at www.shawanlewis.com for author updates and book information. Shawan can also be reached at shawanlewis@aol.com.

  THE GODDESS OF DESIRE

  DYWANE D. BIRCH

  RAGHABA

  WHO BEHOLDS ME, BEHOLDS THE DESIRES OF THEIR HEART

  Curvaceous, perfectly formed, I was masturbated into existence by my father who took his engorged phallus in his grasp and repetitiously stroked so that he might create an orgasm. And so I am that which men and the gods crave. I am the longing that slips into their dreams and settles into the basin of their loins, then erupts into delicious pleasures. Alluring, enticing, I am she who breaks their resolve, fulfills their wants, and leaves them longing for more. Though I will never be spoken of, or listed among the goddesses of ancient Kemet, which will one day be known as Egypt—the mother of civilization—I do exist. And my story—yesterday and today—along the edges of the Nile, during the rule of Ramses II, shall be written on the papyrus by the scribe of cunning fingers who will attempt to bury my treasured memory into the earth. Yet, he will fail. For it will be during the Akhet, season of the flood, when the Nile rises and swells across the land that I will be uncovered. And all that I am, all that I shall be, will be filled with tales of lasciviousness and reckless abandon that will extend across the continent, and throughout the universe, spreading into the hearts and minds of mortals for centuries to come.

  And just like the gods and goddesses before me who guide and direct the natural forces of the mind and body, these mortals shall bear witness to the carnal aching that consumes them and causes them to act out deeds that may fulfill them, or become that which destroys them. They shall be driven by desperation and obsession which shall poison their will to deny themselves, and they shall seek out enjoyment anywhere, anyhow, anyplace—by any means necessary; for I am all things that will manifest themselves in good, bad and indifferent.

  Until such time, I shall sit before you and bring forth the pleasures of all whosoever might yearn. Without fear, without regret, I share with you bountiful fruits of passion. Come… breathe in my intoxicating beauty, savor my scented womanhood, and relish in the joys that overwhelm and stretch the imagination. Behold, I am Raghaba…the Goddess of Desire.

  “Raghaba…Raghaba…Raghaba…come to me, my love. I am restless with a fire that flows through my being, causing flames to erupt from the eye of my loins. Only you can quench these embers that threaten to ignite and spread. I awake craving you…”

  It is this voice, crisp and clear, that stirs me from a peaceful slumber. I open my eyes and stretch. It is the awakening of another day as the sky opens up to receive the sun on the eastern horizon, its brightness shining the promise of another glorious day.

  I rise early, eager to greet Horus—son of Osiris, the god of the dead. He has summoned me in his dreams for two seasons, and I have ignored his prodding. In my mind’s eye, I have seen him stroke himself and spill forth the milk of his loins in hopes that I shall greedily lap it up and become full with his seeds. But I have not been keen to satisfy his carnal urges…until now.

  It is the dampness between my thighs, and the intense desire that spreads through my body and consumes me, enticing me to slip my fingers into the center of my being and lightly brush over the front of my vagina—awakening my clitoris, that brings me to the decision to have him. And today, as he has dreamt and fantasized, I shall bring him into my home, spread open my legs, and welcome him into paradise.

  It has been almost six seasons since his return to the Upper Nile from the Nubian Desert in the land of Kush—which shall be called Nubia. And, though he has kept his distance from me, his roaming eyes have been filled with adoration each time he lays them upon me. But I am not amused with such lustful stares. He has not gone without the pleasures of
other goddesses who have thrown themselves at his feet and have allowed him to suckle at their breasts and journey through their womanhoods, whetting his sexual appetite. His seeds have been planted deep into the womb of plenty. Yet, he still remains unsatisfied, thirsting for more—for none have been able to feed his insatiable hunger for sex. And because I have not given into his persistent imaginings, his urges have intensified.

  But tonight, when the sun greets the moon and kisses the points of each star, Horus will be granted a taste of what he desires. And to ensure that he does not weaken when the time has come to roll down the bed coverings and take to the bed, I will prepare him a hearty meal of roasted hyena seasoned with sesame and fennel (along with antelope that has been lightly brushed with fenugreek) and he shall be served bread and hummus while I eat my dish of bolti and lentils with onions.

  Nefer…nefer…you capture me with your eyes…

  “Beautiful, beautiful,” the voice in his dream is calling. And in the eyes of the gods, I am beautiful. I smile as I head to the flat, thatched roof to light the cylindrical clay oven before the sun’s rays blaze down onto the earth, and it becomes too hot to bear the oven’s heat.

  I busy myself around my modest mud brick home with the double-thick walls. I sweep the clay tiles in the central room—the room in the center of the house where it is most protected from the heat—shake out the reed mats on the floor, wipe down the area for eating, fluff and shake the mattress made of woven cords, then sprinkle jasmine and rose petals over the linen sheets. I draw the net covering around the rectangular wooden bed to keep the gnats and mosquitoes from pestering the space that will become drenched with the sweat of passion upon the fall of the sun.