To Love a No Good Nigga
“Sorry baby, but tonight you’re going to learn not all men can be controlled by pussy.”
The voices in my head started screaming “Warning Will Robinson,” red lights flashed before my eyes, and cautionary sirens blared in my ears but I ignored them all as he began walking upstairs. If I hadn’t known any better, I would have sworn that he had been in my house before the way he found my bedroom without direction. Belatedly, I realized he had. In nightly wet dreams, this man elicited unwanted feelings of submission. He laid me across the purple and gold bedspread and slowly, methodically took his clothes off.
I drank in the sight of him, mocha skin covering a sinewy frame. His chiseled chest branded with his fraternity’s emblem tapered into a narrow waist followed by strong hips and muscular thighs. I licked my lips in anticipation of curving my tongue around his puckered nipples, tasting the chocolaty goodness of his skin.
Glancing downward, I let out a small gasp and saw his smug smile. It wasn’t the eleven inches that shocked me, I’ve had my share of big ones, but it was the amazing girth. There would be no corner inside me that he wouldn’t hit.
Slowly, he walked to the bed like a predator stalking its prey. No words were necessary at this point, plus I wasn’t so sure I could speak anyways. Kneeling in front of my feet, he placed my left leg on his shoulder. His eyes never left mine as he massaged me from the tips of my toes to the bend of my knee.
Gradually, his tongue followed the blazing path his fingers had created as I writhed wildly against the bed. Placing my left limb down, he repeated his actions on my right leg, sucking vigorously on the meaty section behind my knee until pre-orgasmic tremors wracked my body.
Bending my legs, he settled himself in the opening and used his shoulders to spread me wider. Strong hands gripped my quaking thighs, rendering me immobile as he deeply inhaled repeatedly. My hips bucked involuntary while the tip of his tongue touched my inner thighs, outlined my pelvis, and his lips sucked on my outer lips. He tormented me, showed no mercy by refusing to touch the nub of nerves that I needed him to. Every time I tried to move in search of his tongue, he’d grip my hips tighter.
Looking up from my thighs, he smiled, “What do you want baby?”
Again, he was teasing me, making me do things I never did before. Closing my eyes, I whispered, “You know what I want. Stop acting like you don’t know what’s up.”
“I need you to tell me. Ask me for what you want.”
Staring into his eyes, I was defiant but so was he. The heat from his breath across my clit made me want to jump out of my skin. Arrogance lingered in his green depths. Yeah, he knew I needed him to suck on my clit and tongue my g-spot until I squirted all over his face. He was in control again, I was powerless to do anything about that and at that moment I didn’t want to try. Reading the defeat in my eyes, he smiled haughtily but wouldn’t move a muscle until I verbally acquiesced.
“Will you please suck my clit and tongue my pussy until I cum? Please, I need it.” My voice was barely above a whisper but I knew he heard me when a primitive growl seeped from his throat and he swam head first into my waters.
Satisfied moans from both of us filled the air. His rapacious tongue touched everything in sight. Pushing it further inside me than any other man had dared to try. His name floated from my lips on the tail end of ragged groans. Isaiah kept a steady rhythm disregarding my pleas for more. In and out, slow and steady.
As visions of climax floated before my eyes he removed his tongue from my leaky pussy. Flattening his tongue, he dragged it up to my clit and quickly began to suck on it. The pleasure was too much and I tried to push his head away. His strength was definitely superior to mine as he held me still and kept me from running to the headboard.
“’Zay!!! Please!!!” I begged but he was beyond hearing me.
He wanted to taste the waterfalls he felt and seen in the car. Grabbing fistfuls of my duvet, I screamed as honey spurted from my dripping pussy and covered Isaiah’s face and yet he still wouldn’t let go. Back to back orgasms slammed through my passion wrought body causing me to speak in tongues.
Lifting his head only after the last tremors left my body, he looked down at my dazed face. Glazed eyes burned through me as my juices trickled down his handsome face scorching my skin as it fell in droplets. Quickly, he leaned over the side of the bed. and he retrieved a condom from his wallet. Sheathing himself, he turned towards me with a look of fierce determination.
His gaze zeroed in on my rock hard nipples. He pulled them, extending them to his satisfaction before capturing them between his fingernails and pinching. Painful pleasure coursed through my body before settling in my clit, swelling it.
Taking a nipple into his mouth, he suckled slightly before biting down. Screams of bliss ripped from my throat. This was what I wanted, what I needed but would never have admitted to anyone else let alone to myself. He moved from one breast to the other repeating the actions until my sheets were soaked. Reaching down, I tried to guide him inside me.
Forcefully pulling my hair, he growled in my ear, “Did I ask for your help?”
I shook my head frantically, praying that he would put his mouth back on me.
“Tonight you’re going to learn that when it comes to sex, I’m in control of my body. I won’t be led by your pussy, no matter how sweet it is. Do you understand?”
Again my defiant nature, my rebellion when it came to men began to show. I wanted to tell him to go to hell, that my shit was so good I’d have him pussy whipped and crying to his mama by tomorrow morning. I wanted to say this but I couldn’t because I needed him to give me what I so desperately craved. I nodded frantically, getting more and more aggravated with myself as an arrogant smile played on his lips.
Spreading my legs wider, he settled between them and held his weight on his forearms. Slowly—painstakingly so—he entered my sugar walls. He worked inch by pleasing inch inside my tightness; stretching me, filling me. Burying his face in the crook of my neck, he groaned his fulfillment when he reached the bottom. Moving in sync, we set a rhythm that satiated both of our desires.
Suddenly, the air shifted and changed. Bracing his arms on either side of my head, he looked down at me. My heart beat quickened and I tried to look away. He lowered his face until he was the only thing in my line of sight. His eyes were filled with an unspeakable amount of raw vulnerability.
His lips brushed my mine once then twice before capturing mine in the most erotically gentle kiss I had ever received. This was too much for me to bear. Isaiah’s lust, passion, even his dominance I could handle but what threatened my being was his profound tenderness. It was that tenderness that put the barbed wired fence around my heart in danger.
Tears spilled from my eyes as Isaiah continued to kiss me while pounding my body into submission. Bodies and mouths still connected, he rolled over bringing me on top and still he wouldn’t let my lips go. I rode him as wave after wave of sensuous pleasure ripped through us.
Finally, after giving me countless orgasms, I felt his body freeze then shudder uncontrollably as climax overtook his body and mind. Still he wouldn’t let my lips go. We kissed until we both came down from space and our labored breathing returned to normal.
Withdrawing from my body, he discarded the condom then returned to the bed. Without saying a word, he gathered me in his arms, pulled the comforter over our sweat slicked bodies and stroked my back. I wanted to tell him that I didn’t do the cuddle thing, I liked sleeping alone. I never wanted to do the morning after thing with any of my lovers. When men stayed the night they tended to get a little too comfortable. Next thing you know they’d have a toothbrush at your house along with a pair of drawers. Not me, I wasn’t having it. Most of the time after a hot round of sex, my partner would leave.
I guess he can stay while I catch my breath for round two. That was my last thought before I drifted into a peaceful slumber, not waking until late the next a
fternoon still wrapped in Isaiah’s arms.
Chapter 6
“What’s with the goofy smile on your face, Sparrow?”
Whirling around, I clutched my naked chest while glaring at the two witches casually leaning against my closet doorjamb. “Don’t you know how to knock or ring the damn bell? Y’all scared me half to death!”
“Why would we ring the bell when we you gave us the key?” asked Robin, dangling said key in the air.
“I gave it to you for emergencies. Coming here unannounced to get in my business is definitely not an emergency.” Turning around, I continued to get dressed.
“Whatever. Aren’t you going to answer Raven’s question?”
Quickly putting on a pair of low-slung jeans and a fitted t-shirt, I faced my nosy sisters. Folding my arms under my breasts, I took a deep breath, angry that I was caught in my reverie. Yeah, I had a goofy smile on my face. Woke up with it in Isaiah’s arms this afternoon and kept it while we shared breakfast, fucked on the counter, and shared a shower.
Returning to the present, I frowned at my sisters. “No.”
“Why not BB, got something to hide?” inquired Raven with a self-satisfied smile on her face.
She knew that I hated it when they called me by my childhood nickname. Do you know how aggravating it was for people in our suburban neighborhood to run around calling me Baby Bird or BB for short? Extremely aggravating!
“Number one, don’t call me that. Number two, I’m smiling because I’m happy and number three, what do you two want? Don’t you get enough of seeing my beautiful face during the week?” That got the reaction I wanted, rolled eyes and flipped birds.
Following me down to the kitchen, Robin started a pot of Starbucks Colombian coffee. The robust scent permeated the air reenergizing me as much as the May sun shining through the windows. Grabbing three cups from the cabinet, I fixed the coffee to each of our specific tastes while Raven set out my leftover cheesecake and saucers. Sitting at my granite island, I waited for them to tell me the real reason they came over and wasn’t disappointed when Raven quickly began speaking.
“We came over to remind you that Daddy’s birthday is next month and Mama wants us to throw a party. Do not roll your eyes at me Sparrow. None of us have time for this but he’s our daddy so what can we do?
“I don’t know about the rest of y'all but I’m telling Mama ‘hell no!’ I refuse to take part in the circus act that is going to become Daddy’s party. I’ll just take him out to dinner or something.”
Sighing, Robin rolled her eyes at me while I licked my fork. “We’re not asking you to spend the entire day with him and Mama. Just make an appearance. Stay for an hour and dip out like the rest of us.”
“Plus, if you get there early enough you’ll miss out on the theatrics. That’s my and Dean’s plan,” added Raven.
Nodding, I agreed to Raven’s plan albeit begrudgingly. I hated family social functions of any kind. Not because I didn’t love my family, but because I couldn’t stand the drama that ensued when we were all together. That was the main reason my brother, Blue, hightailed it from Chicago to New York as soon as he could.
Speaking of that man, I asked Robin “Is Blue going to grace us with his presence?”
Smiling, she set down her coffee before responding, “Yes, the prodigal son will return but only for two days. He has to make sure he’s back in Rochester to finish up some business at the school.”
As my sisters continued to talk about our genius brother and his work at a university in Rochester, my thoughts ventured to my parents. Jay and Tianna “T” Bird had been married for thirty-five long, melodramatic years which was a rarity in the black community. Personally, I believed they should have divorced thirty-four years ago.
My daddy, though I loved him dearly, was a whore. He had so many hoes running around town, it was ridiculous. I could not remember a single time when he didn’t have Mama at home, at least two women in the wings, and was sniffing after another.
Even now at the age of 59, about to be 60, he continued to chase women. Growing up, my parents constantly argued about his philandering. Actually, it was more like my mother screamed and cried while my dad sat and stared.
After every argument he would look at her and say, “T, baby, I love you dearly but I’m not going to change. I’m a man, baby. Just because I sleep with those girls don’t mean I love them or that I don’t love you. You will always have my heart.”
Every time he would say some mess like that, I would think to myself, this will be the time she will tell him to take his filthy dick and shove it up his ass, but I was disappointed every single time. She would just dry her eyes and walk into his outstretched arms. When I once asked her why she kept dealing with the bullshit my daddy kept slinging her way she got this far away look in her eyes and said on the end of a sigh, “When a woman loves…”
More like when a woman was stupid. That was the main reason I didn’t want to have anything to do with this sixtieth birthday celebration or whatever they were calling it. Just like every other time we had a family get together one of my dad’s mistresses would show up and show her ass, demanding that he claim her.
It didn’t matter if it was Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter, Fourth of July, Labor Day, Earth Day, or whatever day these young gold digging sluts would show up at my parents’ house in Park Ridge and act a damn fool.
They would cry and carry on describing in graphic detail the things my father did to and with them. Some of them brought physical evidence like we were in court. I couldn’t begin tell you the number of pictures, panties, and stained bed sheets I had flaunted in my face. At least it wasn’t a baby being thrown in my arms.
Though that was embarrassing, the worst part was my mother. To watch my mom sit and cry while the police carried away another one of my daddy’s tramps, to watch her be humiliated in front of family, friends, and neighbors year after year, and then to watch her stay with the same man who continuously broke her heart left a sour taste in my mouth. I never wanted to be like her. I never wanted to be strung out on love and the empty promises of man who would emotionally use and abuse me.
Chapter7
“Sparrow, it’s me. I haven’t seen much of you in the last couple of weeks. Uh…just wondering when I can get a taste of your sweetness again. Hit me up when you get this.” BEEP.
“Hey baby, it’s me. Want you, need you. Damn, I miss your pretty mouth wrapped around me. Call me.” BEEP.
“Sexy Bird, you know who it is. Give me call when you get this, miss those waterfalls.” BEEP.
Three messages from all three of my hoes could only mean one thing, trouble in the stable. I hadn’t been on my game. I had been neglecting the other three while giving all my attention to Isaiah. I knew that I should call them back but I was just too mentally and emotionally exhausted.
Yesterday was my father’s party and as predicted one of his hoes came out to play. Just thinking about it had me reaching for the aspirin.
We had just sat down to dinner when we heard a car door slam and a woman screaming for my father. Right on cue my mother burst into tears and started screaming for the Lord to take her now. Raven called the police and Robin and I went to confront the woman.
This one was a lot bolder than the others. She actually tried to run up in the house. I wasn’t having that shit. I may have grown up in the suburbs but I had no problems stomping a bitch if she was disrespectful. So, I had to lay hands on this hoe in a non-biblical sense. By the time the police came, dirty drawers, pictures, and copies of a sex tape staring my daddy littered the yard and all the neighbors were outside capturing the moment on camera phones. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was all over social media by now.
After dealing with that drama and my mother’s hysterics the last thing I wanted to do was talk. I always needed a good three days to recover from dealing with my family’s dramatics.
DING-DONG!
Spinning on my heel, I walked towards the door. It was nine o’clock on a Sunday night, well after normal visiting hours. Lifting the white drapes covering the glass that surrounded my door, my breath caught in my throat.
Snatching the door open, I whispered, “Isaiah.”
He stood there looking finer than any man had a right to in khaki cargo shorts and his signature polo shirt, this one yellow. The humidity hit me hard, making my thin white tank top cling to my body, allowing my nipples to show. The porch light illuminated his face, clearly displaying in his eyes what his mouth refused to speak. Need, lust, and awareness swam in twin emerald pools but what shook me to the core was the raw vulnerability and something else that I couldn’t identify.
Crossing the threshold, he took both of my hands into his and stared deep into my eyes. So deep that it felt as if he could see into my soul, a soul that I wasn’t ready to bare. Not to him, my family, my friends, and especially not to myself. Standing in the foyer, I stared back at him, not able to tear my eyes away, and waited. Leading me to my chocolate suede sofa, he continued to hold my hands and stare into my eyes, making me nervous. He made me wonder if anybody had really ever looked at me before.
“Sparrow, we’ve been dating each other since March, that’s three months ago baby. I need to know where this is going or if you even want it to go anywhere.”
Panic seized my heart as he continued to caress me with his gaze and draw circles on my palms. This was usually the time that I would tell a man about my stable of hoes. I would tell him that I had no intentions of settling down. I would lay down my ground rules and let him make an informed decision. I would do this with no hesitation. That was how I had always done it until now, until Isaiah.
“I really like you ‘Zay,” I took a fortifying breath before I continued. “I would love to start a relationship with you and see where it goes but…”
Placing his finger against my lips, he silenced me. “No buts, baby doll. Just openness, trust, and honesty.”
Pulling me onto his lap, he kissed me deeply, grabbing my ass in his large hands. My hips began rocking against his hardened member on their own accord. Contented sighs were released from the both of us as his hands made their way under my tank and mine under his shirt. Releasing his lips, I bent forward and captured his pebbled nipple between my lips suckling as my hands roamed his chiseled chest.