Gettin' Buck Wild: Sex Chronicles II (10 page)

Jesse visited me every single weekend at first. Then, after his Christmas visit in 1997, I had never seen him again. No letters came. His phone number was disconnected. My heart was broken. I figured that he came to the realization that loving a woman behind bars was not really loving one at all. He was right. I had no business trying to prevent him from leading a normal life because of my own mistakes. He deserved to be happy—to have someone to wake up to every morning and fall asleep with every night.

When the gates opened, I hesitated to even step outside them. I had no place to go and no one to see. People didn’t believe in hiring ex-convicts, and finding a decent job was going to be downright impossible. I stepped out onto the street and looked both ways, having no clue which way was best to walk.

“Susan Wilson?”

I turned to face a young girl of about fifteen. I had no idea who she was—I couldn’t have, because I had been locked up longer than she had been alive.

“Who are you?” I asked. “How did you know my name?”

“I’ve seen your picture.”

“My picture?”

“Yes. Of course, you look a bit older now.”

I was frozen in place. I had no idea what to think.

“Let me explain,” she continued. “My stepdaddy was Jesse Spencer, and he asked me to give you something when you got out of prison.”

“Your stepdaddy?”

“Yes. I’ve been calling on and off to see when you might be getting out. Funny thing is, I called yesterday, and they said you’d be getting out today, so I came here and waited.”

“Where is Jesse?” I demanded to know. “Does he want me to come to him?”

The young girl lowered her eyes and handed me an envelope.

“I have to go now, Miss Susan. Nice meeting you.”

Before I could respond, she jumped into some new kind of fancy car with a teenage boy and pulled off.

I spotted a bus bench across the street and decided to sit there to open the envelope. Inside was a letter that looked rather old. I unfolded it and read it aloud to myself.

The tears flooded down my cheeks as I concluded the letter. A bus had just turned the corner, and while I had no idea where it was headed, I planned to be on it. The little bit of money I had earned doing prison work would help some, but I would have to find a way to make more. I would not fail this time. I would make something out of myself for Jesse.

The bus stopped and before I got on, I looked up at the sky. “Are you up there, Jesse? Remember I love you always, too.”

Sistahs are always complaining about not being able to find a decent man, and I was no exception. It was a terribly humid August night, and yes, I had a man, but he was ghost, as usual. JayQuan had been canceling date after date for about a month, and I was beginning to grow a bit suspicious. Scratch that! I was extremely suspicious. I’m not saying he was a man-whore like the guys from
Deuce Bigalow
when I met him, but he was surely knocking on whoredom’s door. That is, until I gave him a good puddy-whipping and tamed him down a notch or two. Just like every lifelong pooch, he was destined to start chasing yet another fire engine sooner or later.

My sixth sense, Maxine’s Doggie Radar, had begun to pick up the FR signal. The initials stand for Flight Risk, and you know you’re confronted with it when five phone calls a day telling you how much he adores the ground you walk on drop down to one obligatory call, aka booty call, every three or four days. He starts bringing his funky drawers over to your place for you to wash instead of surprising you with a dozen roses delivered to your office because he thinks he has you wrapped around his little finger. He refuses to answer the phone whenever you’re over his place. Oh, and doesn’t let you make a move for the phone. He’ll pull an Emmitt Smith on your behind, run an NFL play on you, jumping over the back of the couch and knocking you out of the way to get to it first. JayQuan was doing all of the above, and I didn’t like it one bit.

That’s why I decided there was absolutely no way I was missing the new horror movie
Hollow Man
. I’d been waiting for that bad boy to come out for more than a year, hearing tell of all the special effects and watching the HBO documentary about how it was made. I was determined to see it the day it came out in the local theaters no matter what. When JayQuan called with yet another excuse why he couldn’t keep our date, I told him to go on about his business and I’d catch him the next day. Frankly, I was thinking it was about time to take his Doberman pinscher behind to the kennel and have him put to sleep. It was time for me to move on, because I had no intention of sitting around waiting for him to dump me. I don’t participate in that game—if I can’t win, I don’t want to play.

I called around to see who was home. I was even more pissed off when I discovered most of my girlfriends had dates that night to go see, what else:
Hollow Man
. A couple of them offered to let me tag along, but being a third wheel was never my thing. I didn’t appreciate cock-blockers and didn’t have any inclination to become one, not even for a few hours. I grabbed the weekend section out of my
Washington Post
right quick and checked out the show times. There was a show starting in less than thirty minutes a few miles from my apartment. I threw on a spaghetti-strap indigo dress, slid my feet into a pair of black sandals, and ran out the door, taking the three flights of stairs down to the parking lot two at a time.

I got into my car and started warming it up. I call my 1984 Nissan Stanza Tank because it uses a tank of gas to get me to and from work every day. Eventually, I’ll get a new ride, but right now making rent is top priority, and my roommate, Angie, ran off with some Rastafarian from the Bronx who told her she reminded him of an ancient Egyptian queen. Now she goes by the name of Empress Heaven d’Honey and works in a reggae club as a topless dancer. Yeah, she’s some queen all right.

Tank finally got warmed up, and I took off, jumping the curb to get out into the Friday work traffic before the light changed and fifty-eleven cars came plummeting toward me. I got to the theater in record time, in less than ten minutes, but my face immediately frowned up when I saw the line for tickets. There had to be at least thirty-five people in line, and only one ticket window open. How trifling can you get!

I noticed a brother close to the front of the line who appeared to be alone. He was easy to spot because he was tall, chocolaty, and looked like the word D-I-C-K spelled out. He had on a pair of neatly ironed jeans and a white oxford shirt. I tend to notice fine men, but when I am horny, I notice them even more. I took a quick survey of the people standing to the side and couldn’t picture him belonging to any of them, so I decided to be my usual bold self and make a daring move.

I walked right up to him, cut in the line, and intertwined my arm through his. “Hey baby, sorry I’m late,” I said seductively and loud enough for everyone to hear.

He stared down at me. Damn, damn, damn! His eyes were a charcoal gray and more mesmerizing than D’Angelo’s chest in his
Untitled
music video. He grinned at me, flashing this cinematic smile that made me wonder why people weren’t lined up to see him on the silver screen.

“It’s no problem,” he replied in a voice deep enough to make me give up the panties right then and there.

There is something about a man with a deep voice that makes my kitty-kat purr like the four-legged ones in those Meow Mix cat food commercials. On top of that, he had on some CK cologne, my favorite on a man.

Before I knew it, we were at the front of the line, and the young girl behind the window wanted to know what movie we were going to see. I immediately blurted out,
“Hollow Man.”

Sexy cleared his throat. “Yes, can I have two for
Hollow Man?”
I tried to hand him the ten-dollar bill I had crumpled in my free hand, but he refused it. “It’s okay. I’ve got this one, sweetheart. You can pay next time.”

He paid for both tickets and handed me one. I blushed, wondering if there really would be a next time, completely forgetting about JayQuan’s shady behind.

Once we got inside the theater, I halfway came to my senses. I tried to get him to take the money once again. “Look, I really appreciate you letting me jump the line, but I don’t want to impose. Just keep the entire ten and enjoy the movie.”

I started to walk away, getting in the line for the concession stand. I didn’t want to be late for the movie, but I knew that particular theater showed about ten minutes of previews. I couldn’t sit through any movie without popcorn and a little sumptin’ sumptin’ to wash it down with. I was digging through my purse for another bill when I felt someone breathing down the nape of my neck. I recognized the cologne and started blushing all over again.

I didn’t turn around when he whispered in my ear, “Now, that’s not fair. Ditching me before we even get inside and find a seat.” He pressed the bill back into my hand. “Please don’t insult me again by trying to force this on me.”

I giggled but kept my eyes straight ahead. I was afraid to look at him for fear of tonguing him down right there in the lobby. “Are you asking me to be your date?”

He ran the fingertips of his left hand over my bare shoulder, and it felt fantastic. Just that little touch worked wonders. “Only if you’re not planning to embarrass me by saying no.”

He came closer, and his dick rubbed up against my ass. I’m not sure if it was intentional or whether he was pressed into closer quarters because of the increasingly longer line behind us. The woman in front of us, with five kids all anxious and hyped up about seeing the new Eddie Murphy movie on one of the other screens, was taking forever to order kiddie meals and boxes of candy. I was growing a bit impatient with her, but Sexy’s dick stimulating my rear end didn’t hurt matters any. It wasn’t rock hard, but even in a semi-erect state, it showed a world of promise.

I moved back on it and started gyrating my hips a little. Okay, okay, I was acting like a chickenhead, a slut, a hoochie, but damn, it felt good.

“Sure you can be my date,” I answered, turning my neck so I could see him. He gave me that helluva grin again. “By the way, I’m Maxine,” I announced.

For five seconds, I had debated about using a fake name but opted against it in case something real came out of what I was about to do. You see, at that point I had already made up my mind that I was going to fuck the brother before I climbed back into Tank that night. Either that, or take him home with me and ride him all night long.

“I’m Orlando.” He put his hands around my waist, and we started swaying back and forth, looking like long-term lovers having trouble keeping their hands off each other. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Maxine.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” I replied as the woman in front of us finally went on her way. The kids all looked happy but she looked stressed the hell out, the same way my sister looks whenever she takes my twin nephews on an outing.

I ordered my popcorn and Coke and insisted on paying for Orlando’s Sprite and box of Red Hots since he sprung for my ticket. We gave the usher our tickets and located theater nine. It was packed, leaving us with two options: the front row or the two seats in the back set off by themselves and reserved for the handicapped. It was pitch-black back there, and the only reason we could even make out the seats was because people were still entering. There was no hesitation in my mind that we should sit in the back. I had major plans.

The previews were on as we got settled in. Orlando’s long right leg was pressing against my thigh, so I decided to feel it up and see how muscular it was. Just as I suspected, the brother had been hitting somebody’s gym with a vengeance. He decided to return the favor and felt my thigh, making me instantly wet.

The opening credits started, and I leaned over to whisper in his ear. “If I get scared, will you protect me?”

I could see his pearly whites, even in the dark. “Certainly. You want to sit on my lap?”

We both laughed. “Not right now, but maybe a little later.” I got really bold then and stuck the tip of my tongue in his ear, darting it in and out quickly like swiping a card in an ATM machine. Even his inner ear was delectable, and that did it for me. “There is something I would like to do right about now, though.”

He ran his fingers down the center of my breastbone and rubbed one of my nipples through the thin fabric of my dress. It grew hard enough to cut diamonds. If a man can play with my nipples just right, I’m his for the taking. Of course, fucking Orlando had already been predetermined before he went anywhere near my nipple.

“Can I have one of your Red Hots?” I asked him, a lightbulb going off in my head. He took me by the chin and slipped me his tongue, which I gratefully accepted. His tongue was thick and warm, and his kiss was powerful yet passionate. You can always tell a lot about a man from his kisses. If he is rough, he will be rough in bed. If he is selfish, just giving you a little peck and thinking that amounts to foreplay, then he will be selfish in bed. But if he is passionate, then he will give you some toe-curling action in bed.

He handed me the box of candy. “You can have whatever you want, and I mean that literally.”

I took the box and started ripping the lid open. “And I’ll take you up on your offer, literally.”

I put three Red Hots in my mouth, immediately feeling the heat trickle down my throat, and got down on my knees between his legs. Luckily, there were no filled seats for about eight feet in front of us, and the people occupying them were totally caught up in the film, just as I had planned to be. I would just have to catch the special effects later. I was about to make some special effects of my own.

I undid the zipper on his jeans and dug inside for the pot of gold. It wasn’t golden, but it was long and sleek, like a Jaguar convertible and just as enticing. I wasted no time licking around the head like it was a cone of Edy’s Cookie Dough ice cream. Orlando flinched. Red Hots, Altoids, and mouthwash will do it every time.

After dipping my tongue into his slit, I made my way down the back side of his shaft, distributing kisses all over to let him know how much I wanted to please him. In fact, I looked up into his eyes and told him. “I want to please you.”

He was speechless as I grabbed the base of his dick with one hand, caressing his balls through his jeans with the other and started taking him deep, inch by inch, until I had to relax my tonsils to take him all in. I could tell he was trying to keep his moans to a library-voice level. A couple of good ones did escape his lips when he came in my mouth about ten minutes later. The Red Hots weren’t completely dissolved, but I could still tell he was sweet. That meant he was eating right, because a man’s taste is directly related to his nutritional intake. If you don’t believe me, feed a brother a Tex-Mex meal and go down on him. I guarantee you’ll come up with refried beans breath.

I sat back down in the seat beside Orlando while he tried to regain some composure, wondering if he planned to return the favor. Indeed, he did! After a five-minute breather, Orlando pulled me up out of the chair and led me to the back wall of the theater, taking his Coke and the box of Red Hots with us. I didn’t put up any objections when he lowered the straps of my dress, letting my breasts dangle freely. He took the lid off his cup, took out a piece of ice, put it in his mouth, and started sucking my nipples, first one at a time and then both together, pushing them inward with his strong hands.

I ran my fingers through his silky, black hair, glancing at the scene for a moment and seeing a gorilla appear out of nowhere on a hospital gurney. Mad cool, I thought to myself, but this breast-sucking action is a whole lot better.

Orlando made his way down to my belly button, lifting the bottom of my dress so he could get to it. I had to curtail a laugh because I’m extremely ticklish, and the ice cube in his mouth felt like something out of one of my wet dreams. He started pulling my white cotton panties down over my hips, and I slid out of my sandals so he could get them off easily. I thought he was going for another cube of ice, but he went for the box of Red Hots instead.