Though he attempted humor, his eyes were slanted, heavy with need and his proximity dizzied me. I don’t think I’d ever smelled anything so virile in my life.
When he moved in again; I threw my hands up to the back of his head, feeling the soft and natural curls of his mane, meeting him half way, and my tongue was in his mouth before he could think about changing his mind. I didn’t go straight for his teeth, I went for his tongue. It was sweet like nectar and agile like the neck of a heron. I wanted more of it. And I took it, liberally.
There was a strong spurring sound that hurled from the back of his throat and even that tossed into my mouth deliciously.
“Yo, Rogers!” I heard in the distance, but didn’t allow it to interrupt my sensual and explorative adventure. “We gotta roll!”
Hearing that reminded me of his impending departure. It was then that I used my tongue to inspect his teeth, but no longer questioning the realness of them, just not wanting to leave an inch of his mouth undiscovered.
I don’t know who pulled away first. I only understood neither one of us wanted to. My breathing was ragged, and Stenton’s composure mangled. He thumbed his bottom lip as he looked out into the distance. When his eyes returned to me they were sharp, piercing with preoccupancy. He didn’t say anything when he walked off.
I stood there dazed for moments long, not understanding what had just taken place. It wasn’t until I realized the headlights from his truck were still illuminating the dark corner of the parking lot where I stood that I grasped they were waiting on me to safely get into my car before pulling off. So I did. I managed to move my aching body over to my Kia Rio and pull off.
On the way home, my phone chirped. When I stopped at the next light I checked the text.
Stenton: What’s your assessment?
Me: Of what?
Stenton: My teeth.
Oh! Those! That trivial curiosity paled in comparison to the real discovery of how great a kisser Stenton was. I’d never felt anything like that. At the next light I returned his text.
Me: I guess they’re real. You rich people can afford good cosmetic procedures.
Stenton: Well I guess we’re even.
Me: How so?
Stenton: Because your boobs are perfect in size and feel good as hell against my abs and chest.
Just when I thought my already sodden panties could endure no more liquefaction, I felt increased moisture down below. My breasts felt heavier in their holdings, too. This is insane! I waited until I arrived home to respond. I didn’t know how to.
Me: Ummm… Thanks?
Stenton: LMAO! GN Nina.
~~~~~~~~~~
Days later, I heard a ping from my phone. I reached over to the bathroom sink as Ruth stood over me while I was squatting on the lip of the tub. It was from Stenton.
Stenton: What are you doing?
I typed back: Just got my hair pressed out by my sissy.
Stenton: I wanna see.
I quickly snapped a picture and sent it: Cheese!
He didn’t respond right away. Why was I getting so nervous? I wore a maroon long sleeve cotton shirt. But it had no holes; just a house shirt. Still, I buzzed with nervous energy, awaiting his response.
We’d been texting back and forth, intimately, and sometimes topics got deep. Deep…not necessarily in a sensual nature, but about our pasts, our fears and our ambitions. So when texts like this came through, it wasn’t odd.
Then I heard a chirp.
Stenton: But what’s up with the shirt tho?
Me: Shut up! What are you doing?
Stenton: Getting ready to workout.
Me: Send me a pic…
Stenton: Blah
Then his picture came through. It was just his face. He hid his eyes, which robbed me of so much. There were so many things I experienced when looking through them. So much he tried to hide from the world.
Me: You’re whack…
I replied, but cunningly, not for the reason I wanted him to believe. My dig was because of him not giving me more. More of what I’d been growing attached to. Him. The real Stenton Rogers.
Stenton: Yeah…yeah…yeah! Chat lata…
~~~~~~~~~~
“You just can’t do it.”