by Zane
“Man, there are a ton of fine women over here,” Mike said to me as we headed to the beach in the late afternoon. “We should have had our asses over here years ago.”
“You are such a pussy hound.” I swatted him on the back with my beach towel. “We’re here to relax and take a break from a hectic work schedule. Not to get laid.”
“Shit, you might not be here to get laid, but I am. If I don’t get pussy every day, I feel sick. It’s my medicine. It keeps me alive. I’m trying to see as much pink meat as I can before we head back next week.”
“You are so damn nasty. Better watch out with these Jamaican women. You might try to fuck one that has a man slinging a machete. Then the only color you’ll be seeing is red and I’ll be carrying your body back in a bag. Imagine that, me having to explain that you got murdered in Jamaica because you were trolling for pussy in another man’s marked territory.”
Mike waved me off and started flexing his muscles. “Aleck, please. I know how to handle any motherfucking thing that comes my way. If a man can’t fuck his woman good enough to keep her at home, that’s his damn issue. Women don’t cheat when they’re satisfied.”
“That’s complete bullshit,” I said. “Men can have the best woman in the world. Perfect in every way and some will still cheat.”
“The key word was satisfied.” Mike glared at me. “A real man is never satisfied. Not when there are more varieties to be sampled.” He pointed in the direction of three women sitting on lounge chairs near the tip of the ocean. “Speaking of which… Damn, check them hookers out.”
“What makes you think they’re hookers?” Mike really disgusted me sometimes with the way he referred to women. I glanced at the women and all of them were drop-dead gorgeous. “They don’t look Jamaican. They’re probably vacationing here from the States; like us.”
“That’s even better. We can fuck them over here and then collect some more ass when we get back stateside. I have a shit load of frequent flyer miles. I hope they live in one of the cities where Delta flies. “
I chuckled. “I see that you’ve got it all figured out.”
Mike rubbed his chin and gloated. “I always do, my man.”
“What about Candace?”
“Who?” Mike asked sarcastically.
“Candace? Your wife?”
“Oh, her…” Mike sighed. “Look, Aleck. I realize you think that I’m wrong for cheating on Candace, but she knew what she was getting when she walked down the aisle. I’m a man and men are going to do what men do. Candace saw that writing all over the wall. Shit, I practically spelled it out for her. Like most women, she decided that my feelings were more important than her self-respect and I ain’t mad at her. She wanted a husband, a bad crib, kids, all that. She has it and as long I’m paying all the bills, I can do whatever the hell I want.”
I shook my head. “I don’t believe in cheating. I believe in karma. When I do find Mrs. Right, I don’t want my past catching up to me.”
“Yeah, well, that’s you. I am an All-American man and I will not live my life dedicated to one pussy—not even if it’s made out of Kryptonite.”
There was no use in continuing that discussion. Mike was not going to miraculously grow a conscience; not in Jamaica with half-naked women everywhere. If we were at a convention of convents, Mike would try to fuck a bunch of nuns who had sworn off sex. He was convinced he could talk any woman into spreading her legs.
Besides, he was right. Candace realized what she was getting into. Mike disrespected her time and time again while they were dating. Despite everyone warning her to move on, she was determined to get him down the aisle. Sure, on the surface he was a good man, a good provider. The ugly truth was hidden underneath the fancy six-bedroom home, the Jaguar and Mercedes, and the limitless spending sprees Candace got to enjoy.
Even though the sun was about to go down, the sand was still piping hot between my toes. “Damn, it’s hot out here.”
“We’re in Jamaica, Fool,” Mike said, continuing the topic I had decided to drop. “And don’t even go there about cheating. You’ve cheated plenty of times. You forget; we go way back.”
“Exactly—way back. I cheated on sisters in college but I have outgrown that since then. I believe in honesty and if I’m not feeling a woman enough to be with her and only her, then I tell her straight up and let her make an informed decision.”
Mike laughed. “Maybe that’s why you don’t currently have a woman. Fuck that honesty nonsense. Women can’t handle the truth.”
I hated to admit it to myself, but Mike did have a somewhat valid point. Every time I tried to tell a woman that I was feeling her but not yet in love, she would get offended. All the women that I met tended to want to go from casual dating to shacking up or getting engaged in less than six months. At the age of 29, I had only had one close brush with marriage but Brenda decided that she wanted to get back with her high school sweetheart. That practically destroyed my faith in women, but I continued to date—in protect mode.
It had been hard for anyone to break down that barrier for nearly seven years. I had doubts that I would find a woman who could be my complete package. Then we walked up on those three women so Mike could make his move and the one in the red bikini instantly made me think twice.
KISS
My heart skipped a beat; then it fluttered. It was the man from my fantasies—all my sexual fantasies. The one with the curved dick. He was wearing black swim trunks and walking toward us with another man in a blue pair. They were both attractive, but the one in the black…I couldn’t believe it was really him.
“Humph, do you see what I see?” Nancy whispered and then poked me and Calibri in the arms, in that order. She was sitting between us but she sat up slightly so she could get a better look. “Here comes some of that Jamaican Mandingo meat.”
Calibri giggled. “They don’t look Jamaican, but they do look damn scrumptious. I hope they’re single.”
Nancy said, “I don’t care if they’re single or married, as long as they’re available to play with my kitty kat.”
Calibri smacked her lips. “Nancy, we’re here to relax. One last week of girl fun before the big day. We didn’t come here to get fucked.”
“Speak for your damn self,” Nancy replied. “Ain’t nothing wrong with fucking as long as it’s good. It’s been two weeks since I rode, sucked, or intook any dick and that ain’t good. I’m used to getting some at least twice a week.”
“No one wants to know your fucking schedule,” Calibri said. “Two weeks is nothing. Some sisters go years because they refuse to have a lousy fuck…or a casual one.”
“Well, crucify me then,” Nancy said. “I’m living this life once and I’m going to do what the hell I want to do. We all have separate rooms. What goes on in mine is my business.”
“True that,” Calibri agreed. “Thank goodness for it, too. I wouldn’t be able to stomach seeing you fuck or, heaven forbid, listen to you slobber all over some man’s dick.”
I did not say a word. I was still in a state of euphoria while they went back and forth with each other. For nearly a year, I had been experiencing these crazy fantasies and masturbating myself into a frenzy over a man in my dreams—the one now walking in the sand less than a hundred feet away.
As they got closer, Nancy started smoothing down her short hair and repositioning her tits in her white crocheted bikini top. “I want the one in the black. No, the one in the blue. Shit, I’m undecided.”
Calibri said, “Calm yourself down. For all you know, they might not even want you.”
Nancy got offended and glared at Calibri. “What man wouldn’t want all this?”
Nancy had recently gotten a breast augmentation and had gone from 36Cs to 36DDDs and you could not tell her that she was not God’s gift to man.
“Hello, ladies,” the one in the blue trunks said as they grew nearer. “Enjoying yourselves out on this lovely beach?”
“Things are definitely looking better,” Nancy
said, jumping up and extending her hand. “Hey, I’m Nancy.”
The guy took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I’m Mike.” He pointed to his friend, with whom I had made eye contact; we were staring each other down. “This is my buddy, Aleck.”
Mike was about five feet nine inches, light-skinned with amber eyes and a great build. But he was not my type. Aleck was around six feet four inches, dark as midnight and bald and he had the darkest, most alluring eyes. Damn, he was definitely the man from my dreams.
Nancy pushed her breasts out at Mike. He seemed disinterested in them and pointed at Calibri and me. “Are these your friends?”
After sighing and making a show of it by putting her hands on her hips, Nancy said, “Yes, we’re from Los Angeles. And you?”
“We’re from the D.C. area,” Mike said.
It did not escape any of us that she did not bother giving our names so Calibri chimed in. “I’m Calibri and that’s Kiss.”
“Kiss?!” the one named Aleck exclaimed, still staring at me. “As in K-I-S-S?”
“Yes,” I replied, getting up off my lounger and brushing the sand off me. “My daddy said he fell in love with my mother during their first kiss, so it’s kind of an inside joke.”
Aleck looked my body up and down. I was doing the same damn thing to his. “Well, it’s a nice joke. I’ve never met someone named Kiss before. It’s definitely unique.”
Calibri had stood up, without me even noticing it, until she rested her arm on my shoulder. “Kiss is a unique woman all around. Tell him what you do for a living,” she urged.
Mike looked at me with interest then. “What do you do, Kiss?”
I knocked Calibri’s arm off my shoulder. “I hate you.” We both laughed. “I’m a clown and I’m proud of it.”
“A clown?!” the two men exclaimed in unison.
“Yes, as in a circus clown,” I stated, used to that reaction from people. “It’s a family tradition.”
“Both of her parents are with the circus,” Nancy said, like it was a crime. “Her dad is the ringmaster and her mother is a trapeze artist.”
“Wow, I didn’t know that there were many black people in…” Mike started to say.
I interrupted him. “There are not that many, but it’s what I do. Got a problem with it?”
Aleck crossed his arms and smiled. He was too fine. “I think it’s cool.”
“Baby, if you like it, I love it!” Mike yelled out. “As fine as you are, I bet you look sexy as all get out in a clown suit. I’ve never gotten it on with a clown before.”
“No, you just act like one every time you open your mouth,” Aleck remarked.
“Whatever, Man.” Mike shot him a wicked look. “So, are you ladies busy this evening?”
“I’m available.” Nancy moved closer to him to make sure he understood the ramifications of her statement.
He seemed turned off. “What about you, Calibri and Kiss?”
Calibri responded, “We don’t have any major plans. We were going to dine by the water back at our hotel.”
“Where you staying?” Aleck asked. “We’re at the Ritz-Carlton.”
“So are we,” I said. “Great place.”
“It’s off the chain,” Aleck added.
There was definitely chemistry between us. Little did he know that I had already fucked him in my imagination hundreds of times. My eyes dropped to his swim trunks, trying to figure out if his dick was curved.
ALECK
A clown named Kiss, I thought as I showered and prepared for an evening of promise. The only down side was that she was from Los Angeles and I resided in Washington, D.C.—a recent implant from Atlanta. Since she’s with a circus, that has to mean she travels constantly, which could be an up side or a down side depending on how I look at it. Hopefully the circus heads East and I can see her often. On the flip side, she might be so tied up with work that she’ll have no time for me. Then again, she is in Jamaica on vacation.
“Stop it!” I warned myself out loud. “You just met the woman!”
I finished rinsing the lather off me, got out the shower and began to get dressed. I chose a white linen casual suit, no shirt, to show off my pectoral muscles, and a pair of black sandals. Mike had recently convinced me to start getting pedicures. He said that men with smooth feet and shiny, clipped nails turned women on. Since my feet had seen better days, I decided to get one biweekly a couple of months before we headed to Jamaica.
Kiss was fine. She was about five feet six inches and thick. I loved a woman who fit comfortably into a size fourteen. She had a flat stomach, but the hips, thighs and chest were on point enough to sport that red bikini. She had mocha skin, smooth like a baby’s, and dark brown eyes. Yes, I was definitely feeling her—to the point where it almost frightened me. It was like déjà vu. Like I had known her some place before. That was crazy. I had experienced my share of one-night stands in my younger years, but I never would have forgotten her.
Mike, that fool, would forget a woman in a heartbeat. I was so embarrassed one night while we were clubbing on the D.C. waterfront. He spotted a woman and walked to her, proclaiming, “You’re going to have to help me out here. I remember the pussy but I don’t remember the name.”
I was so embarrassed, but surprisingly, instead of slapping the living daylights out of him, the woman laughed and seemingly found it flattering. For the next two minutes, Mike tossed out name after name until she finally revealed that she was Jackie. They flirted for a good thirty minutes before her friend, who obviously did not find the situation amusing at all, said she was tired and ready to go. Mike got the digits—again—and then ended up fucking her the next night and never called her again.
I don’t believe in being disrespectful to women, being that I come from a single-parent home and I have five sisters. If any man ever spoke to my mother or one of my sisters that way, they would be eating teeth mixed with blood. That was part of the reason why I was sort of stressing the upcoming dinner with Kiss and her friends. I wanted her—badly—but I did not want to come off the wrong way. I realize that a lot of people vacation in the islands to get laid, but that was not my purpose at all. Mike and I had been working on a crazy schedule for months, trying to lock down a merger deal with a competing corporation. We were the crème de la crème of financial analysts but we also put in a lot of hours.
The only jacked-up thing about meeting someone on vacation is that if you want to pursue something other than sex, it’s difficult. Even though I had not been in a bona-fide relationship for a long time, I was already hoping for something long-term with Kiss. Never one to believe in the proverbial “love at first sight,” I now found myself contemplating if that was actually possible.
Men do think differently from women, so I was already assuming that in order to see her again after we left Jamaica for our respective home towns, I would have to lay some sex on her that she would never forget. Otherwise, why would she even pursue it? Women can claim otherwise all they want, but ultimately, sex is an integral part of a relationship to them and they want a man who can blow their back out. I was going to have to prove myself worthy or forget about it.
Women might worry about their bodies when it comes time to have sex but men have a lot of worries. Will our dick be big enough for the sister? Will we even be able to get the damn thing up? Will we be able to perform over and over again? Will we have enough stamina to wear her out? Will we serve up better dick service than every man who came before us?
I finished dressing and went down the hallway to knock on Mike’s door. He and Candace had been married for going on five years and had two sons. He stopped wearing his wedding ring by year two, claiming it was too tight, but that was a lie. Candace did not seem to care, as long as she could lay claim to having a husband and a family. Many women feel that way but they are selling themselves short. Mike would nail anything he could and I was not surprised when a Jamaican maid, half-clothed, opened his hotel room door instead of him.
&nbs
p; “He be ready in a minute,” she said with her accent, walking into a disheveled room that reeked of sex. “He in da bathroom.”
I could make out the smell of soap, mixed with pussy from the bed, and was glad that Mike had at least washed his ass. He came prancing out of the bathroom a moment later, dressed in black linen pants and a tan island shirt.
“Let’s roll, Man.” He looked at the maid. “Honey, can you change my sheets and tidy up the room before you leave?” He rubbed her on the head, like she was a puppy. “Thanks, Ma.”
“Me see you later?” she asked.
“We’ll see,” he said hesitantly. “I know where to find you, Sugar.”
She grinned from ear to ear, thinking that Mike was going to lay up with her again during our vacation. There was zero chance of that. Mike was not looking for love. He was searching for pussy and either Calibri or Nancy was next on his list. I had made it perfectly clear to him that Kiss was off limits and that he better not even gaze in her direction. That was another thing that I felt badly about—her unsuspecting friends. I had been alive long enough to know that women often held men responsible for the actions of their friends. Rarely did it work the other way. I had dated plenty of women whose “associates” had dogged over one of my boys but I never made the women feel bad about it. Let a man dog out a sister and all his friends are immediately just as guilty.
Part of me wanted to convince Mike to simply go to dinner and not try to sleep with one of Kiss’s friends, but he would never go for that. His mind was made up; more than likely on trying to bed Calibri. Mike did not like aggressive women and Nancy looked like she was ready to fuck both of us on sight. Mike liked the challenge of obtaining the pussy. Even that maid had probably played hard to get at first, but he had eventually gotten the drawers and now she had been tossed into the pile of past notions.
“That pussy was a nice appetizer—Caribbean Jerk Punany,” Mike bragged as we descended on the elevator to meet the ladies in the lobby. “Now I’m ready for the main course—Los Angeles Cream Pie. I wonder if I can get a two-for-one deal tonight. Too bad they’re leaving tomorrow. If I had until we leave next week, I most definitely would fuck them both. Tonight’s going to be a challenge, but I’m up for it.”
