links with the phat diamond cross. His stomach sticks out too much, though. But he only checks me for a moment from the corner of his eye and walks away. Thank God.
After about an hour, the place is packed tight like sardines. Drinks are being spilled on people bumping into one another, and a fight breaks out between two guys on account of this. A few punches are thrown and they’re both put out of the club.
I’ve been dancing with this cutie for the past half hour. He gets love, with his hazel eyes and fade. He smells good, too. Too bad I can’t say the same thing for the majority of the niggahs up in here; muthafuckas don’t believe in cologne. But my newfound cutie is cool. He buys me two drinks at the bar and asks for my number afterward, but I don’t give it to him. I tell him I already have a man. He doesn’t take it to heart. He still chills with me for a while.
Latish is now a little tipsy. She’s on her sixth drink, and she’s with some chocolate, fine-looking brotha by the bar. Sasha’s doing it up on the dance floor, grinding and hugging up on a few men. Naja chills with me at the bar.
I need a little break; with each passing minute that goes by, a different guy grabs me, touches me or wants to dance or talk. I tell Naja that I’m going to the bathroom, and she comes along with me. I barely make it there when I feel someone grab at my arm. Now totally fed up, I angrily turn around, only to see Tyrone, Jakim’s best friend. He is a cutie.
“What up, baby girl?” he says smiling and gently takes my hand.
“Oh, what’s up, Tyrone? I ain’t know you was up in here,” I say to him. I can’t help but show my excitement. It’s all over my face.
He’s chilling with three of his friends, all of ‘em looking thugged out, wearing hoodies, jewelry, Timberlands and attitudes. He continues smiling and gives me a hug. “Damn, you look good, Shana,” he says gazing at my outfit.
“You’re not looking bad yourself,” I reply. He’s wearing a blue and gray Sean John sweatshirt, blue denim Rocawear jeans and black Timbs. His braids are freshly done and his diamond earring sparkles brightly. Damn, he is too fine!
“Can I get this dance with you?” he asks.
“Sure,” I say, forgetting about the bathroom and forgetting about my girl, Naja.
We stroll over to the dance floor. It seems as though room is being made especially for us as we pass through the tight crowd. He grabs me and grinds his pelvis against mine. His moves on the dance floor are so smooth and coordinated, like he practices them every day. He knows how to move his feet, hips and shoulders. He has so much rhythm and energy that it’s hard for me to keep up with him. I notice the other ladies on the floor checking him out, too. They’re looking mighty interested as he grinds up on me. I’m getting wet and aroused and I’m starting to feel guilty.
We eventually stop dancing, and he asks me if I want a drink. I say yes, and he escorts me over to the bar. We talk and laugh until Sasha interrupts us. She says hi to Tyrone and gives me this weird look.
She then pulls me a few feet away. “You know you wrong; that’s your ex’s best friend,” she says.
“So!” I reply.
“What do you mean so? Jakim will kill you if he finds out you’re flirting and playing touchy-feely with his boy.”
“Did you forget that we’re no longer together, that I can do whatever the fuck I want?! Besides, I’m just trying to get my itch scratched tonight, and he seems like the right one to do the scratchin’.”
“You are so wrong, Shana,” Sasha says, finally leaving me to my business. She doesn’t understand. Shit, the last time I had sex was two weeks before Jakim and I broke up. That was a while ago. Tyrone will understand; it’ll be just sex. He’ll get what he wants, and I’ll get what I want. I know he’ll do me right tonight; I’ve heard stories about him from my girls.
I go back to the bar and tell Tyrone that I want to leave with him tonight. He doesn’t even ask why. He gives his boys dap and leaves with me under his arm. Sasha glares at me as we walk past her, but I don’t give a fuck what she thinks. That bitch is no angel; she does her dirt, too.
A slow jam mix CD plays in Tyrone’s BMW, and his hand is deep between my thighs. He’s fingering my pussy, and it feels so good. I spread my legs apart even more so he can get a better feel. “You’re bugging, but I’m feeling you, boo,” he says smiling.
We’re heading to his crib for the night—not his mama’s, but his shit, which he shares with his roommate in Rochdale Village. I’ve been there once with Jakim. It’s real cool. It’s a two-bedroom, with the phat entertainment center. We stop at a red light and begin to kiss, tonguing each other down passionately. The light turns green and we pull off. I’m so horny, and my panties are so wet that I end up pulling them off and throwing them in the back seat. I think I’ll leave them there.
We’re at his crib fifteen minutes later. His roommate is still at the party, and he’s not coming home any time soon. We begin to do our thing. He pulls up my leather mini skirt and lays me down on the carpet. He begins eating me out. He spreads my legs wide apart and sticks his tongue deep inside me. I moan with pleasure. He lifts his head up for air after several minutes. I’m done with the oral action anyway; it’s time for us to move on to the next stage. I want to fuck him. I get naked, and he gets to his feet and does the same. He has eight inches to play with, a chest like Tyson, the model, and a washboard stomach. I push him down to the floor, mount him and start riding that dick. I’m definitely feeling him up inside me; he’s so big and hard. It feels as though his cock is reaching into my stomach. He palms my ass with a tight grip, and he thrusts himself into me harder and harder, absorbing my juices and fulfilling my needs. He then turns me over to lie down on my stomach. He rams his rod into me from the back. I want to bite down on my tongue; he’s banging me so fast and so hard, and it feels so good. I claw the carpet and begin to pant. He speaks not one word as he fucks me vigorously. Position after position, the dick is feeling too good; it puts me in tears. This muthafucka, Tyrone, has strength, stamina and endurance. Thank God for him.
We feel no regret after we’re done. I needed exactly what he just gave me. My pussy has definitely been scratched. I get up and begin to get dressed. I zip up my skirt as he buckles his jeans, but we don’t leave right away; Tyrone has other treats in store. He goes to his bedroom and comes back out with a phat blunt—some bomb Haze. We smoke and talk as we continue to get high and fondle each other. I am definitely feeling this niggah’s groove.
Tyrone drops me off at my front door a few hours later. He kisses me goodnight. “Whenever you need that favor again, you know who to call,” he says.
I nod my head, get out of the car and walk to my front door. I turn around and watch him drive off the block when I finally begin to feel guilty. Damn, Jakim would trip right now if he knew his man kissed me goodnight and dropped me off at my door. My eyes dart about nervously, looking to see if his car is parked anywhere on the block. Luckily for me, it’s not. I’m in the clear—not that it really makes a difference; we’re not together anymore , I try to convince myself.
I go inside and see my aunt all over some man on the living room couch. His pants are down, and her blouse is fully open. She smiles at me and asks if I had a good night. I smile back and tell her that my night was too good to me. She feels where I’m coming from and continues doing her thing with her male company. The one thing about us females in this house is that we aren’t humble or shy when it comes to getting our freak on in front of each other. I remember the time I came home early from school and caught my moms ass
