Nasty

by Dr. Xyz

  A chorus of “Sure, Mother” and “No problem, Ma,” followed her as she walked up the stairs to the parlor floor. Upon reaching the landing, she dragged herself to the end of an exquisitely decorated hall, and entered her private study. Surveying its contents, she slapped her hands on both hips and exclaimed out loud, “Finally, I can finish this room!” It was her latest decorating project. On her desk were several swatches of fabric for window treatments and a new slipcover that would soon rejuvenate the old sofa she had recently purchased at an estate sale. Shelves of books lined the walls, mostly medical texts. She picked up a paintbrush and slapped three different colors on the one wall that did not have any shelves.

  On this same wall hung a picture of a yellow rose. It was obviously an unfinished painting as there was a pencil-traced outline of a vase on the bottom left-hand corner of the canvas. Ophelia stepped back, trying to decipher which hue served her decorating purposes. She’d painted the room several times over the past twenty years, and it was always the same demand. Which color best matched the unfinished yellow rose painting?

  As if engaging in a forbidden act, she closed the door behind her and walked over to the painting. She tenderly stroked its mahogany frame as if it were alive. A tsunami-size wave of memory whisked her back to the time Eli had started the painting. Thoughts of a love that had come and violently swept away tormented her. Damn it, Eli! The only thing you ever finished was our love.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “Tarik, how’d you know you were in love with Sherry?”

  “Love? Why is the Mack Man so interested in love all of a sudden?”

  “Why can’t a brother just entertain a little curiosity?” replied Carlos, smiling from ear to ear like an overweight kid who’d just discovered where the candy was hiding.

  “Not the way you do things. Like, the way you run through girls. The way you called them ‘hoes’ and ‘tramps’ and ‘freaks.’ Hell, I thought you considered women mere fluid receptacles.”

  Carlos cringed when he heard his brother’s appraisal. It was partially true.

  No, hell, it was all true, he thought. He did have a low opinion of women. That was, until he met Nicola. He realized he must have been sampling from the shallow, murky end of the female pool. He was now in the deeper and classier section.

  Carlos hadn’t bent his knees in a spiritual way since Pops died. Meeting Nicola sent him back to church. Ever since he met her, he constantly prayed he wasn’t too far in over his head and that he could keep this refined woman interested in him. It would take much more than his big dick to keep her satisfied.

  Carlos now referred to everything in his life as either occurring before or after meeting Nicola. The former ladies’ man’s first and last thought of the day was now how he was going to live the rest of his life with this woman. He understood fully what Tarik was trying to tell him. Carlos was in love with Nicola James. Little hearts encircling both of their names, covered notepads on his desk.

  Never wanting body tattoos before and now wanting anything that represented permanence, he made an appointment at the biggest parlor in downtown Brooklyn. The artist agreed to put a huge tattoo with her name on the left side of his chest, right over his heart. He would have that tattoo forever; just like he prayed he’d have Nicola forever. Carlos’s nose was so wideopen planes could fly through it.

  What kept blowing his mind was he had only known Nicola for a few days. They hadn’t even consummated the relationship. That first night all they shared was a long intimate. They stayed in the car just talking until the sun rose. Nicola made it clear that she was ready for an intimate “visit” and had invited him into her Harlem brownstone.

  Not wanting to rush things, he declined the offer. He wanted to take it good and slow with this woman. He wanted their first time to be the beginning of forever for the both of them. Initially disappointed, Nicola eventually agreed with the idea.

  He tried to plan the perfect moment for their lovemaking. He asked anyone who listened about advice on romancing a special lady. He was anxious to please Nicola. He knew from their conversation she had seen the world with her ex-husband. She’d led a charmed life and he wanted desperately to prove to her that he could provide the same.

  He rarely considered the age difference. She finally confessed to twenty-seven. A two-year difference was insignificant. What was significant was his bank account. After sinking his inheri- tance into the record company, his cash flow was tighter than he liked it to be.

  Carlos bumped up his efforts to make Tarik’s concert as large as possible. With a strong audience reception, the record labels would not only sweeten the contract but increase the upfront dollar advance as well. He understood how the dollar bills were generated in the industry, and he worked overtime to make sure it continuously flowed in Tarik’s and his direction.

  Yes, if all things went according to plan, he’d soon be set financially and if what he thought he could have with Nicola was real, she’d be around to help him spend his cash. Yes, everything was gonna turn out right for everybody.

  Carlos’s head was stuck too deep in the clouds of romance to notice that Jonathan was trying his best to avoid him. As he was the only one who’d actually met Nicola, Carlos tried to share the events of their developing relationship with him, but the basketball player was never around. It helped though, knowing that someone other than himself had seen her, because he was beginning to think that he’d just conjured her up.

  Since that first night, he’d had only short phone conversations with her. She was busy at night with clients. Though it troubled him a little that she was inaccessible, Carlos decided to be patient. He did not want to appear possessive so soon in the relationship. They would spend the whole evening after the concert together. He had planned to take her to a top hotel for the night. If everything went his way, it would be a memorable evening for both of them.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “You’re doing real good work, Jonathan.”

  “Oh, thanks, Coach.”

  Jonathan smiled to himself as he headed for the showers after a particularly grueling early-morning workout. It was the first positive feedback he’d had since he had arrived two weeks ago. He was beginning to doubt his skills. But fortunately, the hard work was beginning to pay off. He could feel that his game had seriously bumped up several notches. When he returned to high school, he’d be a lethal weapon indeed.

  The other players were excellent competitors. He was looking at future NBA stars. Still beaming from his first pat on his back, he allowed himself to entertain the possibility that one day he too would don the jersey of a professional basketball team. But that was a few years away. He had a little thing like high school and college to complete before he had to make the decision about what team to play for. Jonathan headed straight for home. He was tired. Tonight was Tarik’s concert and he wanted to be well rested.

  “Jonathan, man, wake up! Wake up!” Carlos shook Jonathan out of deep sleep.

  Half-drowsy, he thought Carlos was asking him to pick up Nicola for him. He woke up fully. “You can’t be serious, Carlos!”

  “Help a brother out. I’m going to be busy with the concert—you know, politicking with the A&R label folks. That would totally bore Nicola. If you’d do this one thing for me.”

  But that one little thing would be one thing too many. Since he’d met Nicola, he was having trouble knowing she was in the same city as he was. That was too close. But now this.

  “I don’t know, Carlos. I just…”

  Carlos interrupted. “If you’re bringing a girl, well, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

  Jonathan shook his head; there was no way he could get out of dodging Carlos’s request. “No, it’s not like that. I thought you two would be together, you know, doing your couple thing. I was just thinking about you, man. Sure, I’ll uh, pick Nicola up and keep her company.” Lying through his teeth, Jonathan covered his nose, hoping that the Pinocchio tale was just a myth.

  Carlos
was genuinely relieved. He patted Jonathan on his back. “You’re a lifesaver. I didn’t want her to be all alone. Didn’t want the brothers smellin’ new meat and gettin’ all horny and shit and tryin’ to tap my lady before I got a chance my damn self. You know how treacherous they can be sometimes. Good to have blood around to help protect your property, if you know what I mean.”

  A cold frost traveled up and down Jonathan’s spine. He had betrayed that trust so many times in his dreams with Nicola. He’d have to behave himself completely when they were together at the concert. He didn’t know whether to be happy that he’d be near Nicola or sad because he had to control himself with her. He decided to be sad, for truly behaving himself would prove to be a most difficult task.

  Carlos took out his keys and wrote down her address, phone number, and directions. “I already told her about the change in plans and she’s cool with it.” Carlos misinterpreted Jonathan’s reluctance. “Hey, I might even make you best man at the wedding. Tarik would be pissed though.” He thought about it for a moment. “Fuck, I ain’t got to be conventional; I can have two best men. Thanks, man.” With that, Carlos darted out the room to tie up last-minute details relating to the concert.

  “Jonathan! It’s so good of you to pick me up like this. Come on in.” Nicola answered the door wearing next to nothing. Embarrassed by its revealing nature, Jonathan tried his best not to look directly at her as he entered her home. Chatting as if nothing was unusual, she added, “I tried to tell Carlos I could have called a limo and travelled to the little concert, but he wouldn’t listen.”

  He flinched when he heard the “little” part. Carlos would have cringed to hear his crowning moment in the industry reduced to a mere “little concert.” But, to an outsider, he had to admit, it was indeed a little concert.

  Trying to make small talk, he commented, “I made good time on the FDR Drive…no traffic at all.” He looked around her tastefully decorated brownstone. It was on equal par, if not more extravagant than his mother’s home in Brooklyn. Jonathan walked around her living room admiring her exquisite collection of Haitian and African-American art.

  “Your home is beautiful, Nicola. I…what?” Nicola had slid up behind him and totally caught him off-guard. Having her so close was extremely disturbing.

  “I’m sorry, did I scare you?” She playfully stared into his eyes. A tremor went through his body that was off the Richter scale.

  “Just startled,” he mumbled.

  “Did you tell Carlos we had met earlier in the club that night?” She was almost on top of him now. Any closer and their bodies would touch. The old “brainless” one below his waist was about to take off from the launch pad any second. At the first sign of contact, it would be no holding back, and Jonathan knew it. He pulled away from Nicola, and sat back down on a chaise lounge covered with genuine leopard skin.

  “I would have if you had said something to back me up.” He sounded childish, blaming her for his reluctance to be honest with his brother.

  “It was just an innocent meeting, Jonathan.” Nicola was wearing a sheer Japanese kimono. She twirled around modeling it for him. “Do you like?” The material easily revealed her body. Of course he liked what he saw. “I purchased this last year when I visited Japan. Ever been?” Jonathan was having difficulty keeping a growing erection from embarrassing him. He shook his head and repositioned himself on the couch.

  Trying to refocus, he picked up an ornament off the mosaictiled coffee table and asked her about it. Why did he do that? She had to sit next to him and describe it to him as it was indeed a show-and-tell piece.

  “It’s an obelisk made of pure jade. It has a…” She pressed a button. A secret drawer popped out, startling Jonathan. “Oh, I didn’t want to scare you.” With that Nicola stroked his thigh. Jonathan did not, could not do the decent thing and pull away from her. He sat there paralyzed with pleasure; unable and unwilling to move.

  She gazed into his eyes, looking for signs of disapproval. Finding none, she traveled to his inner thigh. “That’s right; I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable with me. After all, I am your brother’s little girlfriend, aren’t I?” Parking her hands over home plate, she stroked his dick back and forth in a sensuous motion.

  Jonathan had waited his whole life for the first time someone would stroke him other than himself. As his penis reached granite-hard status, Nicola patted his leg and smiled the smile that got all men in trouble and asked, “Is your whole family endowed like this? First Carlos, now you. What a terrific gene pool.”

  What happened next, Jonathan would remember the rest of his life. He decided right on the spot that it would be the last thing he saw flash in front of his eyes the day he died. In one swift motion, before he had opportunity to object, Nicola pulled down his zipper, reached inside his boxers and liberated his cast-iron hard dick. It sprang to attention.

  Nicola, Jonathan’s high priestess of pleasure, squealed with delight as she surveyed his treasure. “Now isn’t this special.” Jonathan watched Nicola bend down before him, between his legs, in what he imagined to be geisha-girl style. She took control of his penis as if it was a scepter, stroking it up and down in royal fashion. “So special, Mr. Basketball Man. You’re a special young man indeed.”

  Under his breath, hoping that it would give him strength to pull away from Nicola, Jonathan chanted the Teens for Abstinence mantra…“No Ring; No Sex.” He repeated the words over and over, but they had no meaning. The only thing he understood was Nicola’s hands kneading his dick expertly, coaxing his hot blood to fill deep, tortuous, cavernous spaces. Then she did the unexpected.

  “This looks good enough to…” Without any request from him, she planted gentle kisses along the shaft of his penis. Jonathan’s eyes bulged out. He was very near to exploding. When she whipped out her wet tongue and slid it up and down his massive expansion, Jonathan’s brain and body seemed to detach from his penis. He was just one big dick, waiting for Nicola to send him off…and send him off she did.

  “Stand up,” she ordered. Jonathan obeyed. Nicola frowned. “Umm, you are tall. I know what. Bend on your knees and I’ll sit on the couch.” Like a slave, Jonathan obeyed once again. “This is more like it. Now, put it right here in Mama’s mouth. She wants all of it.”

  He realized what was about to happen. He’d seen enough videos. He placed his missile between her lips. It was tight as a visor.

  Instinctively, in piston-like style, he rammed himself into her mouth. She was indeed able to handle all of him. He held on to her head and controlled the rate. Faster and faster. He kept banging his love crown against the far reaches of her throat. His balls slapped against her chin with each thrust. Approaching the inevitable end a scream escaped from his mouth; a bloodcurdling primal scream. His first orgasm with a real live woman! It was nothing as he had imagined. It was indeed better than he had imagined.

  Swallowing what she could, thick copious fluid erupted from her mouth, dripping over her chin.

  “Mmmm…virgin protein…I just LOVE IT!” Not wanting to miss a drop of the precious fluid, she licked the remains off of his penis.

  “How’d you know I’m a virgin?”

  Her only response was to wink and say, “Little messy here. Let me wipe this up for you.” She took tissues out of an attractive brass elephant dispenser on her coffee table. She gently patted his glistening dick till it was dry. Jonathan stood there in a trance-like state. Tiny aftershocks rippled through his penis, causing his body to jerk. Nicola planted a kiss on his crown. “Guess I’ll get dressed now.”

  It was over. Nicola rose and disappeared out of the room, leaving behind a confused and very fulfilled young man. One question troubled him as he stared down at his dick. His penis was still rock hard. What was he supposed to do with it? He’d never had a real woman do what Nicola had just done. He was scared. With great difficulty, he stuffed himself back into his pants. Would his dick ever shrink back to normal? He’d heard about men who had erections that lasted so l
ong they had to go to the emergency room for treatment.

  An absurd thought flashed through his mind—to call and ask Carlos, but he knew how that would go over. The vision of Carlos giving him advice and kicking his ass at the same time, did help to cool him down. Finally, his erection faded.

  Alone, waiting for Nicola to get dressed, he wondered how he was going to deal with Carlos. The “guilties” were beginning to haunt him. He wanted to blame everything on Nicola. After all, he had not provoked her. On the real side of truth, he was guilty of not pulling away. She hadn’t exactly raped him.

  What really made him feel lower than the crud between his toes, was that he wanted it to happen again. Not only did he want a repeat, he wanted more from Nicola. He wanted to make love to her. In fact, at that moment, having sex and worshipping at the feet of the one woman he knew to be a genuine Black Goddess Queen of Love, was his only goal in life. Fuck college…fuck basketball…but most of all, fuck the Teens for Abstinence Club. He needed to fuck Nicola.

  Nicola’s entrance into the room shocked the young basketball player back into the present. Wearing an Edward Williamson original, a snug-fitting, fuchsia-colored pantsuit that advertised her goods without giving them all away, she was nothing short of fabulous. Jonathan, impressed, whistled loudly. Nicola twirled and modeled her outfit.

  “You think Carlos will like this?”

  Now it was his turn to straighten things out. “Nicola, about what just happened, I don’t think…”

  “You mean that little massage? That was nothing, Jonathan. Something between new friends. Don’t even worry about it. Just act like it never really happened, okay?” With that, she opened the front door. “Time for the concert.”

  They rode back to Brooklyn chatting about simple, benign, everyday life. Anybody listening would never guess that anything other than a platonic relationship existed between the two. And, as Jonathan regretfully admitted to himself, that was indeed all that they had…that and the memory of his very first blow job.