I didn’t do young girls anymore. Contrary to what many think, young girls aren’t the best fucks. When you reach a certain age, you realize the best sex is with a woman who knows how to use her body to bring you both pleasure, not just you. The ones who attempt to just bring you pleasure are empty. What makes you feel like the shit is a woman who is fucking your brains out while you’re giving her the best dick she’s ever had. Years ago, when I’d entered the league, I didn’t get that piece of significance. I do now. And that young friend of Zoey’s could offer me nothing more than decent head if she had skills. I had fuck partners. Those with talents I was guaranteed and discretion that I’d pledged years ago.
As I sat in the back of the Jeep, I waited for an answer from Zoey about my question of her hanging out with the likes of her friend. They were obviously not of the same agenda. I’d spent several days with them, eaten out with them the last two and it was clear that Zoey didn’t want to be near me or Alton. But why the fuck did she sign up for the program? I’d only known about it because the director of the country club asked our permission for them to work around us, for privacy reasons. I didn’t have a problem so long as they didn’t take pictures or talk to the press. They were signing the same confidentiality agreement as the rest of the staff, so that area was covered.
When I realized she wasn’t going to respond right away, if at all, I got out of Facebook and went about my day. I had a busy schedule ahead, which wasn’t anything new. My fucking summers never belonged to me. Of course with work, neither autumn, winter nor spring belonged to me either. It was just my busy yet mundane life.
As we pulled up to my ride, I grabbed the handle to get out. “Let me holla at you for a minute,” Alton called from the front seat.
As we neared my car he murmured, “Listen, man, I appreciate you for hanging close these past two days.”
“Ain’t nothing, man.” I went to give him some love.
He took it, but his face was balled up, he was struggling with something. I knew Alton. He was a fucking man in heat with a heart. I knew he’d be speaking about how he flirted with the young jawn over the past two days.
“Nah, man. I just appreciate you for not judging me. It’s just that things with Ty and me are complicated, man. You know how that is,” he attempted an alliance.
Never once when we agreed to off-season training together this summer did I imagine getting into sticky shit with him. We’d had a mediocre season and didn’t make it to the championship, so we vowed to bring our best game next season. That preparation started just a couple of weeks after we were done with the previous season. We took no extended vacations. I’d barely celebrated my birthday. We kept our focus, but then there was this.
“Look, Al, what goes on between you and Ty is between the two of you. I know that you love her—and shit, the whole world knows she loves the fuck out of you. I’ve not been in your shoes. I don’t know what that commitment shit feels like. My only advice to you is to be smart about this shit. That Tynisha is a rider. It ain’t too much of that around and it damn sure ain’t in those young ass girls. Just be careful. Be safe.” I extended my arm and shoulder to buffer my sermon.
He took it with a wry smile. I knew Al. He was an emotional man; one that couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. And because of this, Tynisha’s hands always stayed in his pockets. They were three kids and six years in and still couldn’t get shit right. When he fucked up—and that was a lot—his apology would always involve an insane expense. His lawyer always stayed in his ass about the sports cars, vacations, homes, shopping sprees, and jewelry he’d apologize with. Seemed to me it was cheaper to be single if you preferred variety like he did. But I knew there was something deep within that had committed and connected him to his lady that was not the case with any of the other women he fucked.
“I’m gonna get my shit together, man,” he whispered, I was sure, so no one could hear his crying ass.
Alton had a gregarious and crude sense of humor, but his personality was far more sensitive. Very few saw that if they weren’t paying attention. Al was good peoples. Many couldn’t stomach him because of the crass. I saw straight through that shit. It was something he did to appeal to others or to ward off threats. I didn’t need the appeal, neither was I a threat to him.
“You all right with me, man. Don’t sweat that shit.”