by Carl Weber
Before Salli came back with the sugar packets, another sister walked by, switching her ass on the way to be seated at a table. She gave me a subtle nod to let me know she liked what she saw, but I wasn’t interested. This sister looked a little too young for my tastes. In my experience, it was the young ones who got attached. I preferred women like Salli, a little more mature in years and in attitude and less likely to become a problem when I hit it and quit it. Actually, if I had my choice, I ’d stick with married women. They were usually cool with one-night stands, because they already had their men at home to provide for all their other needs.
I wondered if Salli was married. When she came back with my sugar packets, I was happy to see that she was sporting a nice-sized diamond on her left hand. Yeah, this was gonna be fun.
“Here’s my address. I’m going home now, so if you want to stop by after you get off …,” I said as I wrote the address on a napkin.
“I’ll do that.” Salli licked her lips and grinned at me as she stuffed the napkin into her bra. “Are you ready to order?”
“Nah. I think I’ll skip breakfast. I got me a taste for something that’s not on the menu here.”
I got up, left a twenty-dollar tip on the table, and told her, “See you in an hour.”
“Hey, Daddy.”
When I got home to get the apartment ready for Salli’s visit, I found Jamie in my kitchen, cleaning out the fridge. It wasn’t enough that she had a live-in man and a full-time job at the real estate company I started in my late twenties; she still found the time to be up in my business and in my space. Because I loved her so much, I usually just let her behavior slide, but today was not the day. Salli had me worked up, and I was not about to miss an opportunity to get a piece of her.
“You got to go.” I picked up Jamie’s purse from the counter and slipped it on her shoulder.
“I’m not done.” She motioned to the fridge.
“Oh, you’re done. I got company coming.”
“Who?” Jamie put her hand on her hip like I deserved her attitude.
“Jamie, you’re not my keeper. Now, get out.” I tried to hustle her to the door, but she stood her ground.
“Daddy, why are you messing with these skanks?”
“We both know that you think being your father is a full-time job, but FYI, I’m also a man.”
“Oh, you’re not about to give me that ‘men have needs’ speech. I have heard it all before, Daddy.”
“Well, you’re not listening anyway. Don’t you have a man at home?”
“Why do you need these women?”
“Good-bye, Jamie.” I had no intention of letting her mess up my game, but she had no intention of giving up that easily.
“It’s not like you’re a kid. You’re too damn old to be sleeping with a different woman every night. What are you trying to prove?” Her voice kept getting louder, probably because she thought that was the best way to get me to give in. On any other subject, I might have, but when it came to me and my sex life, I had never let my daughter influence my choices, and I wasn’t about to start now. I pulled out my biggest weapon—her spending habits.
“Jamie, go home or go to work so you can stop sending me your credit card bills.”
“Fine.” She rolled her eyes, knowing she was defeated. “But you are still getting old, and sleeping around won’t make you any younger!” she yelled before storming out of the house.
I raced up to my room, changed the sheets, lit some candles and incense, and jumped in the shower. Salli would be here shortly, and I wanted to make sure I was clean and ready for all the dirty fun I planned to have.
Salli showed up a while later, still dressed in her uniform. I invited her in and slid her sweater off her shoulders.
“You feel a little tense,” I said. “I ran you a bath. Would you like to go relax in the tub for a while?”
“You don’t waste any time, do you?”
“Why should I? I told you what I was all about, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, you sure did,” she said with a smirk.
I took a step and pressed up against her, close enough that she could feel my body heat—and my package pressing against her backside. Her shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, and I figured things were ready to get started. That’s why she surprised me when she said, “I shouldn’t be doing this,” and took a step away from me.
“Oh, so you’re all talk?” I challenged.
“No.”
“Then what’s the problem?” I glanced down at her ring finger. “I promise I won’t tell anyone.”
Her right hand instinctively covered her left to conceal the wedding ring. “That’s not it. I do what I want anyway.”
I seriously doubted that was true. There was no way a man with a wife as fine as Salli would willingly share her.
“Then what is it? You scared of this?” I asked with a glance down at my erection, which was straining to get out of my pants at this point. “It’s okay if you just realized you’re in over your head. You wouldn’t be the first woman.”
“Oh, you think you’re all that?” I saw the sassiness coming back to her. What a relief. I was starting to think she was going to be more work than she was worth.
“I don’t think anything; I know it. Now, I let you know who I am, and if you can’t handle it, then let me walk you to the door.”
I moved toward the hallway, but instead of following me, she tossed her bag down on a chair and kicked off her shoes.
“Lead the way. As long as you recognize that this isn’t something you’re gonna want just once.”
“Yeah, once is usually enough.” I took her hand and led her up the stairs to my bedroom.
“Are you ready to be satisfied?” I breathed close to her ear. She nodded, and I sat her down on the bed and started to massage her feet.
I kissed her legs, working my way up. Once I reached the top, I slid her pantyhose off and nibbled the inside of her thighs. She whimpered, a combination of pleasure and anticipation. I could have brought her to orgasm right away, but I wanted to savor our time together, so I stood her up and led her into the bathroom.
“I’m going to take care of you,” I whispered, staring into her eyes.
I loved the way her ass was straining against the fabric of her uniform. Lord have mercy, this sister had the kind of body I loved, everything in the right place, and I couldn’t wait for her to let go and get loose.
“Why don’t I help you out of this uniform so you can get in the tub?”
She gladly obliged, and in no time, I was caressing her smooth, creamy skin with scented oil while she bathed.
When she got out of the tub, I toweled her off, massaging her butt cheeks, the insides of her thighs, her stomach, and her breasts. I had Salli hollering my name before I even got undressed. I took off my clothes, lay her on the bed, and let my tongue take care of all her needs.
Salli had the kind of orgasm that let me know somebody was not handling his business at home. This was a woman in need. Once I slid on a condom and entered her, she let me know just how much she needed what I had to offer. She grabbed my ass, smashing me deeper inside of her, and screamed at me to give her more, harder, faster.
We went at it for nearly an hour in every imaginable position. Salli had at least four orgasms before I finally exploded into the condom. She flopped back onto the mattress looking completely satisfied and gazed up at me in a way that made my radar go up. I felt good, too, but I wasn’t about to lie down next to her and cuddle. That was never part of the deal.
“You got to get up. I have to go to work.” I threw my robe on, collected her clothing, and handed it to her.
“Damn, that’s kind of cold.” She rolled her eyes.
“No, just real. I told you this wasn’t gonna be some big romance. You said you could handle it,” I reminded her.
Reluctantly, she got up and began to dress. After a minute, she regained some of her confidence and told me, “I can handle it. You’re gonna be the one
calling me for seconds.”
I didn’t bother to correct her. She’d been pretty good in bed, so I saw no need to hurt her feelings. She’d get the message loud and clear when she never heard from me again. I ’d just have to find a new twenty-four-hour diner to have breakfast at.
“Thank you.” I walked her to the door, trying not to appear like I was hustling her out, although that’s exactly what I was doing.
I’m sure she was switching her ass all the way to her car, but I didn’t even bother to watch. As soon as I got my rocks off, you could twirl around naked and I ’d barely notice. It’s just the way I was, and I made no apology for it, especially since I never played like I was any different.
I jumped in the shower, then dressed and headed to the office, my body relaxed and ready for work.
Darnel
8
Two weeks after my wedding fiasco, I was sitting in my dad’s living room, drinking Grey Goose from the bottle and “trying” to watch TV. I say trying because my father was getting his late-night exercise, and the way his “workout partner” was crying out, I could barely hear myself think. She was so loud that I almost felt embarrassed for her, but then again, this wasn’t the first woman who had snuck over here after ten for a booty call since I ’d moved in with my dad. This one was by far the loudest, though.
What I didn’t understand was how my father never got caught up in any drama, because he sure enough had himself one hell of a middle-aged harem. Tonight it was some woman who taught Bible study at the church, but what they were doing up there sure wasn’t godly.
Speaking of ungodly, I lifted the bottle and took a long, hard swig of the vodka. I swished the liquor around in my mouth, closing my eyes and savoring it, until an image of Keisha appeared in front of me. I wasn’t quite drunk yet, but I was definitely on my way. I ’d been drinking pretty heavily lately, but it still wasn’t taking away the pain of what Keisha and Omar had done to me.
I know this sounds crazy, especially after what went down between her and Omar two weeks ago, but I missed Keisha. Don’t get me wrong; I hated her, but in some distorted, sick way, I missed her too. It was as if a piece of me was missing from my life, and deep down, I knew it was her. Now I knew why so many couples got back together after one of them got caught cheating. God, was I ever going to stop loving her? I swallowed the liquor and opened my eyes to erase the image of her face. I felt so alone.
I heard through the grapevine that Keisha had taken our honeymoon tickets and gone on vacation. Can you believe that crap? That heifer had a lot of nerve sitting out on some sandy Jamaican beach, drinking fruity cocktails out of coconut shells after her treacherous behavior had destroyed my life. I knew she was back now, because I ’d scoped out her car outside her job this afternoon, but she still hadn’t shown her face, not even around her own family.
Rumor had it that Omar had gone down to Jamaica with her, but then my boy Charles told me that Omar hadn’t been released from the hospital until a few days ago. It seems I ’d given him quite the ass whipping. My lawyer said I was lucky I hadn’t been charged with attempted murder.
A couple of my friends said he wanted to see me so he could apologize, but I still couldn’t forgive him. Not in a million years. I couldn’t even think of him without seeing an image of him riding my woman and enjoying every moment. How was I ever supposed to forgive the man who helped rip my life apart while calling me a friend? A best friend.
I kept thinking, What if I hadn’t gone up to her room that night? What if I had married her, totally in the dark about her cheating? What if she’d gotten pregnant? What if …? I had too many unanswered questions. I lifted the bottle again. Yeah, I was a brother needing all the liquid tranquilizer that I could find, even though no amount of drinking took the edge off the pain of my broken heart.
After one more swig from the bottle, I decided to do something I knew would end up coming back to haunt me. Nevertheless, it was something my heart was telling me I had to do if I was ever going to get any answers to my questions. I picked up the phone and dialed Keisha’s number. I know—stupid, right?
“Hello?” Keisha sounded shocked. I’m sure she had recognized my cell phone number on her caller ID. “Darnel? Is that you?”
I thought about hanging up. I couldn’t make myself speak, but I sure knew what I wanted to say. I wanted to tell her how much I hated her, how she was a slut and was going to burn in hell for what she’d done to me. I just didn’t have the guts.
“I … I just wanna know …” My voice was timid and hesitant, and I hated myself for sounding so weak. “I just wanna know why.”
“Why what, Darnel?” Her tone was not confrontational, but her question angered me nonetheless. I couldn’t believe she was acting like she didn’t know what I was talking about. Like this whole thing was some figment of my imagination.
Suddenly I found my strength. I exploded, my voice pure bass now. “Why the hell did you do me like that?”
As I waited for her to respond, I could hear quiet whimpers on the other end of the phone. Why she was crying was beyond me. I was the one who should be crying. I was the one who was done wrong.
“I’m sorry, Darnel,” she managed to speak through her sobs. If she were anyone else, I might have felt sorry for her.
“Naw, you ain’t. You ain’t sorry about shit.”
“Yes, I am. Please, baby, please forgive me. I made a mistake.”
“A mistake? That wasn’t a mistake. That was Omar. That was my best friend.” I tried not to cry, but I was so angry that I couldn’t hold back the tears.
“If I could do it all over again …”
It was too late for regrets as far as I was concerned. “I hate you! Do you hear me? I hate your ass.”
Her sobs became louder. When she was finally able to speak, she said, “I know. But I still love you.”
I wanted to spew more venom at her, but her words and the sincerity in her voice sent me back to the past ten years of our relationship. I was so glad I was on the phone, because I did not want her to read my true feelings in my body language. I didn’t want her to know what I was thinking: I still love you too. The only thing that stopped me from saying it out loud was that I hated her just as much as I loved her.
“Darnel, it was a mistake, a big mistake.”
I allowed my pain to banish the sentimental feelings I ’d had a moment ago. “Oh, I see. Omar’s dick just mistakenly fell into your pussy. That kinda crap happens all the time. What the hell am I pissed off about?” I asked sarcastically.
“I was drunk. I know it was stupid. I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”
“You weren’t? That wasn’t some dude you met in a bar. That was Omar. You fucked Omar, my boy.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. I’m not perfect like you, Darnel. Real people make mistakes. Can’t you just forgive me? I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”
“I just want to know one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Why?” We were back to the original question. “I wanna know why you did it.”
It took her quite a while to speak up, and even then she still didn’t have an answer. “I don’t know, Darnel. I’m just stupid. Maybe I should just kill myself.”
“That’s not funny.” I had never known Keisha to play games like this, but she was obviously not the person I once thought she was. Now she had sunk low enough to fake suicidal thoughts just to gain my sympathy.
“I’m not laughing,” she insisted. “Everyone hates me. You hate me. Your family hates me. My mother and father hate me. I don’t have any reason to live.”
“Like I do? I’m the one who should be killing myself. But it has to be about you, doesn’t it, Keisha? Well, then, fuck it. Go ’head and kill yourself.” I had decided to call her bluff, but she wasn’t about to back down.
“You know what?” she responded. “Bye, Darnel. See you next lifetime.”
I stared at my cell in disbelief. The screen read CALL DISCONNECTED.
She had actually hung up on me. Was she really going to go through with it? I know what I ’d said, but the last thing I wanted her to do was commit suicide. I hit the TALK button to redial her number.
“Hello.” Her voice was quiet, and she was still crying.
“We need to talk in person. I’m coming over,” I said in a tone that meant no was not an option.
She sounded drained. “I’ll see you when you get here.”
I disconnected the call, unsure of what I was feeling. Would she really try to kill herself? I didn’t think so, but I had to make sure, because my conscience couldn’t handle something like that. Besides, if I was really being honest with myself, I wanted to see her again. I considered the idea that maybe she had lied about attempting suicide, knowing that it would get me to come to her place. Maybe she wanted to see me as much as I was now realizing I wanted to see her. I loved this woman, and as crazy as that sounds, in the back of my mind, I was wondering if there was any way to make this work.
I allowed my mind to wander, to imagine a scenario for when I showed up at her place. In my brief fantasy, our reconciliation was quick and passionate. Within minutes, I was imagining the two of us naked, limbs intertwined as we made love.
Even in this inebriated state, I knew this was foul. This was sick. How could I even want to touch her again? But I just had to—
My father interrupted my fantasy when he came into the living room wearing a burgundy silk smoking jacket and matching pajama bottoms, like some black Hugh Hefner or something. But I wasn’t mad at him. I guess if I had some woman screaming at the top of her lungs like a damn fool, I ’d be strutting too.
Without a word, he reached over to the coffee table and picked up the half-empty Grey Goose bottle and examined it. He frowned, shook his head, and then placed the bottle back on the table. The way his face hardened told me he was disgusted with me. My father drank socially, but he definitely wasn’t the kind of guy who would finish off half a bottle of vodka sitting alone in his house. Neither was I, until I caught Keisha and Omar together.
