Stepping closer, Shame starts kissing my neck. I think about pushing him away, but I can’t control the feeling that I was receiving from my pussy. He knew my neck was my hot spot, and at this point, my va-jay-jay is doing the thinking for me.
“So you gonna lemme taste you?” Shame whispers in my ear.
“Depending on what you have a taste for, Shame. I only have one flavor to offer and that’s sugar walls,” I say as I close my eyes, feeling him reach under my towel and up my thigh in search for my honey pot.
“Good,” he says as he slips his finger through the opening crevice of my sacred lips, feeling around my walls as if he’s searching for something. He slowly pulls his finger out of me, then places his index and middle finger in his mouth. He sucks and licks my juices off his fingers, not leaving a drop of cream on them. “Damn, baby, you taste like honey,” he says.
I can’t help smile; the nigga has the corniest lines. “Really?” I ask, still leaning against the counter. I pull Shame in close enough so he can feel my breath brush against his ear. “Is that all that you want, Shame? A sample?” I pull his earlobe into my mouth, lightly pinching it with my teeth.
“Damn, gurrrrl,” he says in between his moan. “You better stop before you make a nigga do somethin’ to yo ass.”
“Do something like what?” I say as I step back.
“Somethin’ like taking you to anotha planet on my rocket ship,” he says with a slight laugh.
I can’t help but to blush at his comment. I pull him in close to me once again. This time I kiss him hungrily. A bitch like me is starving for some dick, so I kiss him the way I want him. Deep, juicy, and wet. Pulling away from our lip-locking moment just so I can breathe, I look into his eyes; his passion for me is burning like balls of fire. “Are you sure that’s all you want, Shame—just a taste?” I ask him in a sexy tone of voice. I was ready, and like Yung Joc said, “It’s about to go down.”
Shame grabs my waist and moves his hands under my towel as he caresses my ass. Kissing me on the neck, I feel him pull my towel loose and let it fall to the floor. He then bends down on his knees, placing my left leg over his shoulder.
“Nah, babe, I want a full serving,” Shame says as he glides his fingers in my pussy. I lean my head back, balancing my weight on the counter while standing on my right leg. I feel him glide another finger inside of me, feeling the tightness of my pussy muscles wrapping around his fingers. Then he slowly maneuvers his fingers in and out of my pussy, causing me to moan and grind against it. I pull his head down closer, feeling his tongue licking and sucking my clitoris.
“Damn, babe, you taste so good,” Shame says as he eats my pussy until I come all over his mouth.
Lifting me up, Shame places me on the counter as I unzip his pants and let them fall to floor. He guides his dick inside of my pussy, pulling me in close. I wrap my legs around him as he carries me to my bedroom with his rock-hard soldier still inside of me, penetrating my walls. Lying me on my bed without our bodies disconnecting, he starts sucking my breast, gnawing on my nipples. As much as it hurts, the shit feels so good. We all know that pain can be pleasure if you are enjoying it the right way. I feel myself melting in his arms as we become one. Each stroke is different from the last. Expectorating on my hand, I then start rubbing my fingers against my clitoris, making my pussy even wetter. I moan as Shame thrusts his missile into my pussy, causing me to explode. I am so turned on to the point that I start rubbing and pinching on my own breast with one hand while still playing with myself.
“I love you, Mya,” Shame says as he dug deep into my pussy, releasing his nut inside of me.
“I love you too,” I say as I arch my back. Shame and I made love continuously for another hour, then fell asleep in each other’s arms.
3
“I’m down for whatever, simple as that.”
Last night with Shame was amazing. The thought of the connection between our chemistry sends chills down my spine. After all, he is still my boo. Before yesterday, it has been a while since we fucked the way that we did last night. I mean, I’m not saying the sex has been sour between us; I’m just saying it hasn’t been as good. Something came over me last night, a feeling as if I had to prove something to Shame. I had to prove to him that I wanted to make this work.
While we were lying in bed together, Shame rolled over onto his side. My back was turned to him, and I was on my way into a deep sleep until I felt him kissing my bare shoulder. Turning around toward him, I encountered the urgency to make love to him again. Pushing my hair out of my face, Shame leaned in close, kissing me intensely. Seconds after ending our kiss, he gazed at me, and I knew he had something on his mind.
“Love hurts, Yemya. If I were to eva lose you, how can I eva love someone who can neva replace you? The love wouldn’t be da same.”
“Really, Shame?” I said as I turned over to face him. “Is that how you feel about me? You love me that much that you can’t love anyone else?” The statement caught me off guard. I knew Shame valued me. It was just his way of showing it that made me have my share of my doubts. Then again, maybe I was just being foolish.
“Baby, I’m telling you, this is real.”
I looked into my man’s eyes, trying to read behind them into his feelings. How can you understand people if you don’t know what they are really thinking? Can I believe Shame? I mean, every woman has her share of doubts; every woman has been down that road of “should you put up with it or let it go.” But here is where I get confused. When will I stop taking his shit, and when will I stop believing his lies? When will my heart and mind realize that Shame may and may not be the one? Looking into his eyes, I thought about the risk that I’d be taking on love. The war that I was about to put my heart in. I just felt a storm coming. And right now, with Shame, I prayed that I could take this risk on love the right way.
I pulled his head in close, caressed his face, and I then said a silent prayer for my mind and heart. Lying back, Shame balanced his weight above me, slowly kissing me from the nape of my neck to my lips. I let out a silent moan as I felt him position himself inside of me. Opening my legs wider, I felt myself melt under his strokes as Shame traced his hand down my back, cupping my ass. We made love all over again that night.
I awake the next morning to Shame’s absence on the other side of the bed. I close my eyes to recollect us making love last night. I didn’t even make it out the house yesterday because we were here fucking like we didn’t have a care in the world. I reach over to my nightstand to pick up my ringing phone.
“What’s up, Mya?”
It’s my home girl, Parys. Parys and I are really cool; she’s the silly side of me. We clicked the second we started kicking it in Chatt. One thing about her is that she’s always herself. Cool.
“Hey, chick, what’s up?” I inquire.
“Girl, nothing, just got into it with Ray.”
“Girl, are you serious?”
“I’m good, girl, he have his ways. So I just let him have his ways.”
“You know how I am about guys being with the shit, Parys. I would rather be by myself than to go through the bullshit you have to go through with that nigga.” I knew what the phone call was about. Ray and Parys always have their ups and down. The nigga was on some real jealous shit, if I must say so myself, but folks can get caught off guard. You think that the person would be the one you’ve been waiting on. You know, that person you think is the one you are destined to be with, the one who would take you out of the streets. In most cases, fairytales don’t always end that way. Sorry to kill your dreams, but it’s true. We all know that God has a plan for each of us and that things don’t always work out the way that we expect them to go. I try to keep that in mind.
“You know he got mad and had put me out of his car, girl!”
“Bitch! For real?” I ask. I can’t believe the shit. Ray’s ass put her out of his car on the side of the road. If a nigga would have the nerve to even make that kind of threat it would have been
over with. “Damn. Why, girl? What happened?”
“I saw an old friend and I spoke to him, so now Ray thinks I’m fucking him.”
“Girl, if it ain’t one thing then it’s another with y’all,” I laugh.
“Girl, his jealous ways … he swears I’m talking to my ex. He just don’t understand.”
“Men just don’t understand.” I groan, thinking about the emptiness I feel now that Shame got his nut and left to go on about his business. “See, Parys, I knew that Shame was coming from a rocky relationship, and at first it seemed as if we were passed that. Then I come to find out that the chick is about to have his baby and he is still going through the motions with her. Then to top that off, he expects me to trust him. Then last night, he was telling me how much he loved and needed me and for me to bear with him until he can make through his situation with her. Some days I just feel like he’s running a game on me. Going back and forth between his ex and I. He play the role so good that it’s confusing, Shame can be so sincere about everything by showng so much love and affection. It’s like, I think he want us both.—”
“Sincere!” Parys says. “Girl, I’m lucky to even get that from Ray … he make me feel so little,” she says with so much sadness in her tone.
“Damn, girl, you need to get out and chill, honey. Give yourself some fresh air. If you’re going to be with that nigga then you deserve some type happiness, don’t you think?” I ask. I sit up in my bed, ready to go off. I don’t understand most women these days. They can be so hooked on the dick that they don’t do anything about the pain that is being caused by a man with her heart.
“I don’t talk to nobody! I don’t go nowhere! Hell, I’m barely able to hang on to my friends because of his ass,” Parys exclaims.
I feel her pain. She’s in love. Hell, I’m in the same position with Shame. I was in love with someone who was in love with pussy. “Girl, when you call, don’t I always answer your phone call?”
I hear Parys let out a slight laugh and say, “Yeah, girl, every time I call, me hearing your voicemail is rare.”
“See, there you go. You aren’t losing no friends, girl. Your real friends gone always be there. It doesn’t matter if y’all hear from each other every month. Honey, they will always be there to answer a phone call or reply to a text. It may not be on time or right then and there, but hear me when I say that I got you.” Matter of fact, I got all my girls. I may get caught up in my relationship or whatnot, but we are grown. We should be able to understand each other’s situations. At least I do. Some folks catch a fit or tend to act funny if they don’t hear from you.
“I know, girl. I be noticing that shit too. Folks fall out of your lives like leaves on a tree branch. I can’t believe that shit though. After I put my heart and time into our relationship, the nigga still feel as if he can’t trust me. Don’t you know how much that hurts? But that’s a relationship for you.”
I can hear the pain in my home girl’s voice. Trust can be a big issue in relationships; without it, how can you expect to have love? People that I have talked to never give the best advice. I was either the one dishing the opinions to them and telling my stories to my journals. You live and you learn. Am I not right? I mean, you can’t learn anything if you don’t go through nothing. That’s my theory on that.
“Relationships take a lot of work, Parys. I’m sure there are going to be some days that are filled with so much hurt and heartache. Trust me. I’m going through my motions myself, confused and not able to outweigh my troubles. But you just have to remember that you have to be yourself, girl. Be greatful for the good days by allowing them to outweigh the bad. I mean, if you feel like the relationship it is worth it, then don’t give up too soon. I’m trying to face it with Shame. At least working it out without questioning it until he pushes me to that point. Things like this, you just have to take it and learn from it. Like they say, ‘What’s done in the dark will come into the light.’”
If only I can convince myself to believe that. It seems like it’s always easy to talk to people about their issues than it is to even consider it myself. Yeah, it sounds good; I’m good at telling it like it is, but I can’t seem to take my own advice. Where is that person who would sit and listen to me pour out my feelings. I’m always someelse’s shoulder. I thought to myself as I sat down at my computer desk.
“You always know what to say, Mya, for real. You just lifted a little weight up off my shoulders.”
“I’m just telling you what I believe is best for you to hear, love. You know how you want your relationship to go—just don’t let it go the wrong way.” I giggle. I think about Shame. I wonder if our relationship will ever grow bitter. I think about me giving up on us, or me being a woman and taking control of my relationship. Is putting effort and trying to keep a cheating man worth it? After getting off the phone with Parys, I pull out my journal and trace over my thoughts.
April 18, 2013
Man, yesterday I saw you. I was happy to see you. I mean, it’s been a minute. Then you told me that you weren’t going to fall in love anymore. I still don’t know what you mean by that. I started to ask you, but I didn’t want to get my feelings hurt. So my deep thoughts … I kept them to myself. I love it when we can chill together. I swear, it’s like nothing in the world can stop us from enjoying each other. I remember when we first met. We couldn’t stop kissing, touching, texting … hell, even speaking. It’s April and so much has changed since then. My mind is filled with so much negative shit. I know that you lie to me. Especially about that bitch Angel. I guess every bitch you talk to is your best friend? I guess I’m jealous that you call her “baby girl.” Dammit, Shame, I’m hurting because I don’t know what to do without you. I’m confused and I’m mixed with emotions of love. My stomach hurts from the thought of you fucking around on me. At first, I thought she’s just some chick from North Carolina who you grew up with in Georgia, but damn, this bitch is saying shit that me as your old lady should be saying to you. What’s up with that?
Yemya
4
“Life is about pushing past its limits.”
“I hate when my name constantly comes out of a bitch’s mouth! They don’t even know me!” I yell into the phone. These hoes are so irrelevant to me. For some reason they are always popping up and out the mouth. Trying to throw salt on my game. I’m at Marshalls trying to shop in peace, and I so happen to get a phone call about some bitch fucking Shame. Bitches got so much to say these days. I swear they do, and Shame better believe that he has another one coming. I am so tired of these random ass phone numbers and these hoes playing fuck’n guess who!
“Girrrl” Brooke says as she glances around the store at the other shoppers who heads are now facing my direction. She snickers as she continues to look through a rack full of shirts. “You so loud, Yemya. I swear the folks outside even heard you.”
I can’t help but laugh. I haven’t realize how loud I have gotten until Brooke said something. Hell, if she wouldn’t have said anything I would be still going off over the phone all the while forgetting where I was at. They would have to call the security guards to escort me out this bitch because I was 38 hot.
“What’s wrong?” Brooke asks. “What happened?”
Leaning against one of the clothing racks, I tell Brooke about my phone conversation.
“I’m telling you, Brooke, these bitches better come correct. All these rumors about Shame fucking these hoes … I don’t know. And I’m still sexing him when I should have let him go. I think I need to go get tested!” I laugh. “I don’t know what I’m holding on to …”
As much as I want to try to work things out, I am getting fed up with Shame and the entire he-say-she-say shit. It’s still unbelievable to me that Shame was wilding out like that. Creeping on me. .I swear I’m too bad for him to be cheating. “I know I’m a good woman, Brooke. I don’t have a problem with taking care of my man. So why is he creeping around?” I say as I place my hand on my hip.
“Girl, some
niggas be doing the most. Greg ain’t no better,” Brooke says as she pulls a shirt from the rack and places it against her chest. “How does this look?”
“It’s cute,” I say. “But it’s not something I would wear.”
“Well, damn, hoe, you ain’t got to say it like that,” she says with a laugh.
“Well, bitch, if you quit wearing loud-ass colors then just maybe it would be of my taste. Until then, you can keep that shit,” I say with a laugh. “Besides, I’m done; I can’t find anything in here anyway.”
“Hell yeah, well, let me go buy this shirt and we can go. Where you want to go next?” she asks.
“I’m ready to eat and right now my stomach is calling for Famous Daves” I say as I walk toward the checkout line.
“Man, you ain’t lying, I’m sho’ll hungry,” Brooke says in her Memphis southern slang.
I know that Shame and I haven’t been on the smoothest terms lately, but believe me when I say that I’m sure to get primitive if he be fucking off with some females. I know we have only been together for a couple of months, but we are in a “relationship,” and he needs to value what he has, and he needs to recognize that he’s walking on thin ice. I’m about fed up with this drama shit and about to call it quits on the whole relationship. I can only take so much. How much more shit is it that women have to go through for a man? Honestly, this drama shit isn’t for me.
“So where you want to eat?” Brooke asks while taking her receipt and change from the cashier’s hand.
Snapping out of my thoughts, I turn to Brooke. “Famous Dave’s sounds damn good to me,” I say in a jokingly voice.
I mean, is it worth it? Being belligerent with another female over a nigga? Hell, what do the men get out of that? How can a woman ever trust another man all the while knowing about the shit the past done put her through. Should I end things with Shame? Is my love for him that strong? Is that battle worth the fight? Should I even consider giving us a try? How can he treat the woman who’s been down for him since day one so wrong?
A Lover's Mentality Page 2
