Show and Tell (5 page)
Authors: Niobia Bryant
Chapter Seven
Moët
S
unday services at The Holiness Church of Christ are the highlight of my week. The church is small with barely a hundred members, but the spirit in the church is strong. The choir always sings with much praise and Reverend Hampton always delivers the word to teach and inspire. I look forward to going to church. I have a good time. It's in this church that I finally felt like the Lord forgave me for all my sins. Trust me when I say
that
is truly a miracle.
unday services at The Holiness Church of Christ are the highlight of my week. The church is small with barely a hundred members, but the spirit in the church is strong. The choir always sings with much praise and Reverend Hampton always delivers the word to teach and inspire. I look forward to going to church. I have a good time. It's in this church that I finally felt like the Lord forgave me for all my sins. Trust me when I say
that
is truly a miracle.
And it is here that I met Deacon Taquan Sanders. Now I truly thank God for that.
As Reverend Hampton preaches on the virtues of truth and integrity, I nuzzle my face into the sweet crook of Tiffany's neck as I gently rub circles into her back to belch her. I look over towards the small pew where the deacons sit to find Taquan smiling over at me. My heart nearly bursts in my chest as I smile back.
Dating Taquan feels like that first sweet love that I missed while in high school. It was hard to focus on boys my age when Reverend DeMark was delivering the kind of sexual pleasure teenage boys knew nothing about yet. The man was a scoundrel, a devil, a predator who picked girls just a few years from him being a pedophile, a freak against God and I hated him . . . but I can't deny that he taught me some things that make me hell in the bedroom. Things a sixteen-year-old had no business learning right there in The Greater Temple of Jesus Christ's church offices . . . and pews . . . and pulpit.
Things that I would love to do to Taquan.
As Tiffany finally lets out a belch, I kiss her cheek and gently settle her down into her carrier sitting beside me on the pew. I know I should be focused on the sermon but lately my mind is fixated on other things . . . like Taquan's thing.
Of the two relationships that I've had in my twenty-something years both progressed to sex very quickly. The Reverend and I only shared freak sessions in the church. Bones took me out but soon sex was our focus. It's different dating someone who ends the night with a kiss.
I had a man and I wasn't getting any more than Alizé's celibate behind.
I glance over at Taquan again. He is nodding his head and looking up at Reverend Hampton in pure devotion. I can put that same look on his face while I ride that dick . . . if he would finally move off of first base and bring it on home. All through the rest of church I try not to envision me stripping down to nothing and walking over there to climb right onto his lap. I know it's nothing but the devil putting these thoughts in my head but Lord I'm ready to see what else Taquan has to offer with his romantic, sweet, gentlemanly self.
“Hey you.”
I look up in surprise to find Taquan leaning down to lift Tiffany out of her carrier. All around me people are mingling or leaving the church. “Church is over?” I ask in surprise.
He laughs and flashes me straight even white teeth. “Sure is,” he says as he gently sways back and forth to rock Tiffany.
I would know that if I wasn't daydreaming about Taquan and me getting it on in the baptism pool behind the pulpit. Lord, help me.
“You ready to go?” he asks.
“Yes.” I rise to pull on my coat before I grab my purse, baby bag, and the carrier.
We walk out the church together, speaking to the people we pass on the way. “I know we were going to Mrs. Jay's for dinner but I actually have a surprise,” I tell him as he bends to settle Tiffany in her car seat in the backseat of his black Range Rover. As he did every Sunday, Taquan had driven all the way out to Livingston to pick Tiffany and me up for church.
“Really?”
He stands and turns around to look down at me. We are just inches apart. He is looking good and smelling good. And being close to him has me feeling good.
With everything I've been through with men, my mind was not on finding a man, but Taquan was truly special and for the first time I saw a man I was attracted to and I made the first move. No preacher lurking after virgin teenagers. No hook-ups from my girls. Just a woman letting a man know she is interested. To my pleasure, he felt the same way.
Now it's time to take this to the next level and if that meant making another power move than so be it. “Actually, my friends are all out for the day so I made dinner for us back at the apartment.”
Taquan slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks as he tilted his head a little to look down at me. “So you cooked for me?” he asks in that deep voice.
“Scared?” I ask, amazed that I even know how to flirt.
“Nope. Not at all.”
He holds the passenger door open and I lightly touch his chest as I climb in. Taquan owns his own Subway franchise. His parents both died in a car crash and his uncle wisely advised him to use the insurance money to make more money. That was three years ago and now at just twenty-five he is planning to open another restaurant in Orange. Even once he found himself able to move, he still lived in the modest home in Newark where he was raised.
Of course, Cristal loves him to pieces. Alizé thinks it's weird we hadn't had sex yet. Dom thinks he's boring. But this new me, the one who stands up for herself, knows that all that matters is what I think.
As we ride to Livingston he reaches over and holds my hand.
“So Dom and Alizé have made up?” he asks as he steers with one hand.
“Kinda sorta.” He is so easy to talk to so I have filled him in on my friends and all of our drama and right now the idea of Dom and Alizé even agreeing to be in the same room is a big deal.
“Well, I know it means a lot to you that they get it together so continue to pray on it,” he advises.
“We're all supposed to meet up next week to go to dinner.” I turn in my seat to check on Tiffany who is sleeping peacefully.
He says nothing but he squeezes my hand a little tighter to reassure me.
“How are things with your parents?”
“My mom offered to babysit.”
“Really? That's nice of her.”
I gave him a look like “Negro, you crazy.”
“What?”
“I love my parents and we have gotten past a bunch but I'm not ready to put my child through the crap they put me through.” I tried to hide the bitterness from my tone but I still haven't gotten over how I told my parents about the Reverend seducing me at sixteen and they called me the liar. “My sister, Latrece, just called me complaining about them having her on religious lockdown. It's too much for a child. Hell, we haven't sinned so what can we be saved for? Kids should have a chance to just be kids, you know?”
He nods but I know that his ties to God are much stronger than mine. “I grew up in the church and I was taught to love and respect the Lord and His words, but I don't feel like my childhood lacked for anything.”
I blink away tears that threaten to fall. “But sometimes you can cage a child in so much; then when they finally have the chance to go free it makes them wild and crazy. I don't want that for my sisters or for Tiffany.”
He pulls into the underground parking deck of The Top. I move to leave the car but his hand on my arm stops me. I'm surprised and pleased when he pulls me close to him and presses those Duane Martinâlike lips to my forehead.
For me that is not nearly enough.
With a moan for courage, I raise my hand to his face as I tilt my chin to press my lips to his. He hesitates and I feel him pull back for just a second before he closes his eyes and kisses me back. Whoa. The feel of his tongue against mine is pure fire. I trace my hands down his hard cheek to his chest and abs. I use one shaking hand to yank his shirt from inside his pants. “Taquan,” I moan against his mouth as I push my hand under his shirt to trace my fingertips over his nipples.
I feel him shiver. It makes me bolder.
I take his hand and press it to my breast. When his fingers search and find my hard nipple I arch my back and let out breath filled with pent-up frustration. He presses his lips to my neck and I dive my hand into his lap to stroke his hard dick straining against his slacks. Thank you, Jesus. He lives up to the “all black men have big dicks” stereotype. I have to see it. Feel it. Maybe even suck it.
With one hand I undo his belt and unbutton his pants. Seconds later that big dick is springing free right into my hand. I grip it tightly and stroke it like I'm trying to milk it. His ass clenches and he raises his hips up off the leather seats a bit. When I feel his hands sliding down between my legs I spread them wide until one knee is pressed against the window. One finger and then another stroke against my swollen clit before sliding deep into my pussy.
I don't care if a dozen cars ride by. I'm ready for this and nothing is going to stop me including the time nor the place. Pushing his hands away, I hitch my skirt higher around my waist and climb right into his lap. His dick is standing straight up between my thighs. I grip it and rise up until I feel the heat of his thick tip just between my thick wet pussy lips.
“No, we can't,” he says weakly.
“Oh yes, the hell we can.” I try to lower my ass but his hands shoot out to grab my cheeks and stop me.
I lock my eyes with his as my heart and clit pound crazily. “What?”
“We can't,” he stresses with more determination.
“Why not?” I ask him sharply in frustration just as Tiffany begins to stir in her car seat.
Taquan licks his lips and looks away from me.
What's the problem? He's hard as bricks so he can't be gay or needing Viagra.
He looks back at me and his face is a tad bit embarrassed. “I'm a virgin. I'm abstaining until I'm married.”
Say what?
Tiffany broke out into a full cry as the bomb Taquan dropped on me plummeted my spirits. “Don't worry, baby, Mama feels like crying too.”
Chapter Eight
Dom
“N
o, don'tgo.”
o, don'tgo.”
I push his hands the fuck off me and climb right on up outta the bed. Like always his ass want to cuddle and shit but that ain't what the fuck I just wasted my lunch hour for. I was lookin' for a nut and he just gave it to me along with one helluva back blow out. “We gotta get back to work.”
Corey Miller sits up in the bed with his hard dick standing up straight between his legs. I ignore him. I strut my naked ass right into the bathroom for a quick shower. Ain't no way I'm goin' back to work smellin' like sex. My ass shouldn't even be here in one of these short stay motherfuckers grabbin' a quickie from this Negro any damn way. I grab their thin rag and cheap soap as I step under the hot spray of the water.
Corey's the athletic director at the daycare center. He's the same height as me but he's cute and the sweetest fucking shade of caramel. Ever since I started workin' there he been tryin' to holla. He cute and funny and all that good shit but I'm just fightin' everyday to stay clean and raise my daughter. Right now I don't need the drama that a man brings into a woman's life. I'm scared that any little thing will have my ass huntin' up a blunt or some dope.
But I'm still a woman. I get horny and shit just like any other damn woman. And here's this nice, young, muscular motherfucker always smilin' with them big damn dimples lettin' me know that he feelin' me . . . so I decided to let myself feel him inside me.
Corey wants more than sneakin' these little random fucks on our lunch hour but right now good pussy is all I gots to offer him. He ain't my man so I ain't got to worry 'bout him cheatin', lyin', callin' me too much, not callin' me enough, and all that other bullshit relationships come wit'.
I'm rinsin' this funky soap from my body when the bathroom door opens. I turn my head and look through the glass door as Corey walks in with a sock hangin' off the tip of his hard dick. When his jokey ass makes the sock jump up and down, I laugh. He always crackin' jokes and shit. He always smilin' and in a good mood. Always. The little short motherfucker swear he Martin or some shit.
The shower door opens and that sock leads him right on in.
“Come here, Sensual Chocolate.” He flings the sock over the shower door and his long and curvy dick is covered by a sheer pink condom. “You know you want this caramel all up in ya.”
I laugh like a little girl or some shit as his hands grab my hips and pull me close to him. “You know you wanna get all up in this chocolate,” I tease him, wrapping my arms around his neck as he turns and presses me back against the cool tiled wall of the shower.
Corey uses his strong arm to lift one of my legs. I gasp as his dick slides up in me. Feels like a pole or some shit. Pressing my back against the wall, I raise my ass up a little and work my hips as he begins to pop away in my pussy like a motherfucker on a true mission to please. I cry out a little as he uses his hips to press his dick against one side of my walls.
I ain't gone lie: Corey and me fuck so good together. Our shit is ridiculous.
As he starts to grind away like he don't want to miss one spot of this here pussy I'm thinking like Bernie Mac in
Player's Club
: “I'm in trou-ble. Trou-ble.”
Player's Club
: “I'm in trou-ble. Trou-ble.”
“Mommy, what happened to your hair?”
I look at Kimani as I zip up her puffy pink coat by the front door of the daycare center. I try to play crazy or some shit like I don't know that every curl and spike from my short do is done. Steam from the shower and the sex fucked up a perfectly good hairdo. “Uh . . . my hat messed it up,” I lie to my child without a bit of shame. What I'm gone say? Mama had a freak session with Mr. Miller and this hair is what you call sweat the fuck out.
Corey walks up behind us dressed in his leather coat and wool skully. He has the nerve to laugh at my lie as he winks. “Hey, Kimani.” He tugs one of her ponytails as he walks past us. “Bye, Dom.”
“Bye, Mr. Miller.”
“See you tomorrow, Corey.”
It does feel funny that Corey and me are fuck buddies but we hardly even speak to each other at work. Just the way I fuckin' want it.
“Mommy, can Hiasha spend the night?”
Kimani and her friend Hiasha are inseparable. Wherever you see one, you see the other. They looked like two little chocolate china dolls playin' together. “Maybe another time. Remember you and me and the girls are goin' out to eat tonight.”
My daughter's face lights the fuck up. “Auntie Ze too, right?”
I pull her pink wool cap down over her ponytails. “Yeah.”
“Good.”
Yeah. Good. Admittin' to Alizé 'bout bein' jealous of her was some deep shit for me. My drug counselor talkin' 'bout he proud of me and all that good shit. Okay, it wasn't easy but I'm proud of myself too. Diane and my father with all their bullshit fucked me up but I'm proud of gettin' my shit back together. And that includes gettin' shit back right between Alizé and me. See, a bitch like me woulda whupped my own ass for the shit I did to her, but she had to understand that I was a different person then.
I'm better now. And I plan to stay the fuck better. If that meant staying just sheet freaks with Corey; keepin' the fuck away from Diane's psycho ass; and making up with Alizé than that's what the fuck I will do. Period.
Girl Talk
T
he silence around their table at Ruby Tuesday was deafening. Alizé, Dom, Cristal, and Moët focused most of their attention on Kimani contently making funny faces to amuse Tiffany.
he silence around their table at Ruby Tuesday was deafening. Alizé, Dom, Cristal, and Moët focused most of their attention on Kimani contently making funny faces to amuse Tiffany.
Moët kicked her foot under the table aiming for Cristal to get her attention.
“Ow. Shit.” Dom swore as she reached down to rub her shin.
“Oops. Sorry,” Moët mumbled as she dropped her head into her hands.
They all were glad when the waiter brought over the large plate of appetizers and saucers.
“I am starving.” Cristal reached for a saucer and loaded her plate with spring rolls.
Moët was all over the chicken tenders and honey mustard sauce.
Both Dom and Alizé reached for the mozzarella sticks. Their hands touched briefly and they both snatched their hand back.
Moët and Cristal shared a quick look.
“You go ahead,” Dom offered as she grabbed the rest of the chicken tenders to put onto a plate for Kimani.
“No, I know you like them too. You go ahead,” Alizé said.
“No, I'mâ”
Moët dropped her fork onto her plate. “Okay, now you bitches trippin'.”
Every set of eyes at the table turned on her. Moët shrugged. “What? You two the only ones who can talk ghetto as hell? Not.”
“That reminds of the time Moët cursed Mr. Piccolo out in science class because he kept picking on her for being quiet,” Cristal said.
Alizé's eyes widened. “Ooh, I remember that. What was it she told him again?” she asked, excited by the memory.
The ladies all looked at each other with mischief in their eyes before they said in unison: “If you want me to talk I got some motherfucking words for your ass. Leave me the hell alone!”
They all broke out in loud laughter uncaring about the eyes they drew from people at nearby tables.
“Ooh, y'all said bad words,” Kimani said as if she knew a secret.
“We have said plenty of bad ones over the years,” Cristal said as she reached over and cleaned honey mustard from Kimani's round cheek with her thumb.
“We have shared plenty over the years,” Moët stressed with a long look at Dom and Alizé.
“Good times,” Alizé said softly.
“And bad times,” Dom added.
Cristal nodded as she reached for her glass. “Here's to better time for all four of us . . . together.”
Moët, Dom, and then Alizé lift their glasses to toast to that together.
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