Insanity (9 page)

Are you fucking kidding me?! Does he actually get away with this shit with other women? Who the hell was he dealing with?

Through her steady twisting, grinding, humping and touching herself, Queen was able to work things out on her own and bring herself to climax without his help. And it was stronger than she expected it to be.

“O-kay, o-kay,
o-kay
,” she moaned and grimaced as her juices loosened up and squirted him.

Feeling her pulsations against his pelvis excited Bryant as well. He reached up and hooked his arms around her shoulders to pull her down into him, jamming his erection as deeply as it would go.

“Now you fucking me, baby” she squealed and pulled his hair. “You want this pussy, right? Tell me you want this
pussy
.”

“Mmm hmm,” he hummed to her.

She yanked his head back by his hair and grunted, “Mmmpt mmm,
say it
.
Say it
!”

“Aahhh,
shit
,” he whined instead. He reached with both hands to pull her away from his hair right as his body began to jolt.

Feeling his hot, urgent movement beneath her, Queen squeezed her lip muscles tightly around his vibrating hard-on and pulled away from it to heighten his pleasure.

“You cummin’, baby? You wanna
cum
?”

“Awww,
yeeah
, don’t
movvve
,” he groaned.

Queen held her position and continued to squeeze her lips around his condom-covered dick as he held on tightly and jerked violently from his hips.

Woooo, she got some good ASS!
he thought to himself as he exploded.
And she knows how to USE IT! I usually don’t even cum from the bottom.

Queen was pleasantly surprised with how it ended herself.

Okay, that wasn’t all that bad,
she admitted.
But he’s gonna have to be much better than  that and loosen up for next time . . . if there IS a next time. So let the games begin. I wanna see how he acts toward me now.

Working Her Plans

June  1998

O
n her way to her next class, where she had returned to school for summer graduate courses at Towson State, Queen was ready to ignore her cell phone for the third time when she noticed that it was Bryant calling her. She was walking in full stride across the sunny, green campus in a tan, business skirt suite and yellow dress shirt, opened at the top for a hint of cleavage and to display her gold chain. Three-inch, brown heels elevated her height to five-foot-eight again.

She answered Bryant’s call on the run as she had gotten accustomed to doing.

“Hey you?”

“Oh my
God
, she actually
answered
instead of calling me back and leaving messages.”

“Well, you know I’m in the middle of my classes.”

“Yeah, and how long are you gonna use that as an
excuse
? I’m in school
too
in case you’ve
forgotten
. And I still make time for
you
.”

“But you’re already
used
to it. I have to get back in the groove of this.”

“It’s not that hard. You do what you have to do and keep it moving. It’s not like you’re a freshman adjusting to life away from home and high school with a new social life again.”

You don’t know that,
Queen thought to herself.
I got professors pushing up on me now.

Of course, she couldn’t tell him that.

 “Look, after you’re finished with your classes, let’s just go out and catch a bite to eat tonight,” he suggested.

She had to think about it. “Let me see how I feel after class.”

“So, you’re gonna call me?”

She hesitated.
What the hell, if I don’t I don’t.
“Yeah, I’ll call you.”

“What time?”

Queen grinned and shook her head against the phone. She had the man reaching in desperation. “I don’t know, around eight, I guess.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that.”

“I know you will. But let me go ahead and get to class now.”

She hung up the phone and thought about her new dilemma. Bryant was still marriage material, he just wasn’t much of a challenge, and an unchallenged mind would often seek something more exciting elsewhere.

As she walked up the cement steps and into the campus building, she asked herself,
Now what do I do about this teacher coming on to me? Would it be wrong to fuck him?

Her graduate studies sociology professor, Dr. Kelvin Blake, was an energetic black man in his late fifties, who looked twenty years younger. If not for his head of gray hair, no one would believe his age or credentials. Nevertheless, he was a very capable and qualified instructor who continued to attract more than professional interest from his female students, both young and old.

The man was a very stylish speaker, mixing his instruction with pieces of his past and present personal life, along with his off kilter opinions about everything. And at six-foot five, Dr. Blake was tall and wiry like a basketball player.

Dressed in a black suit with charcoal pinstripes and a lavender dress shirt with a deep purple tie, he moved fluidly throughout room. It didn’t even feel right to call him a “doctor.” Queen preferred to call him, “Mr. Blake” instead. It sounded sexier.

Taking her seat in the middle of the room, she immediately slipped into her frequent daydreams, inspired by her professor’s habit of dressing like a Wall Street tycoon. Matching her dress code with his, she figured they could make an interesting couple. That was how easily her mind could stray from one man to the next. It was all in her curious mind.

I can’t even imagine him taking his clothes off,
she thought as she eyed Dr. Blake with a grin.
He seems like the type that’ll fuck you over his desk with his zipper down.

She could rarely concentrate on studies while in the man’s intoxicating presence, especially with her belief that he liked her. But Dr. Blake seemed to like
all
of the pretty girls in his classes; white, black, Latina and foreign. He didn’t even try to hide it. And they all seemed to like him back.

This is so stereotypical,
Queen told herself.
He’s like an educated pimp in here. And I know that I shouldn’t even be thinking like that.

Nevertheless, raised in Catholic and Private schools, she had never had a black male teacher before, and definitely not one with so much swagger.

“Today we entertain the importance of cultural, age and gender diversity within the workplace,” he stated in his usual stroll up and down the aisles of the large classroom. The man was never about small talk. He would jump right into his lecture and keep it rolling. There was never a “How are you doing? How was your day today? Good afternoon,” or any of that.

Everyday class was the same approach: “Today we entertain this . . . tomorrow we will entertain that . . .”

Yet, his air of importance and his booming voice made you hang onto his every word. Even when he paused and said nothing, you awaited his next syllable. But all Queen could think about was Dr. Blake lecturing her alone in nothing but his tie, socks and shoes.

“Without diversity, this great nation that we call
America
would have never
become
America; it would have been just. . . a place of stolen land. But it was
diversity
that allowed America to shape and mold its laws, practices and politics around the many
people
who would make this nation
great
.

“Africans, Indians, Irish and Jews were
all
up in the mix . . . including the Scotts, the Dutch, the French and the Spaniards, all mixing and mingling together.”

Queen hesitated before she looked over at the blonde-haired student sitting to her right.

Now I know I’m not the only one in this room who thinks he sounds overly sexual,
she mused,
especially with his mixing and mingling analogy.

When the blonde woman smiled at her, she had her answer.

I bet every woman in here is wondering how big his dick is.But I’m wondering if he has gray hairs all over it. Would that freak me out or what?

Adding to her distraction, Dr. Blake paused and grinned at her.

Oh my God, did everybody see that?

Queen was afraid to look around the room and find out, feeling guilty and naked. She stared down at the linoleum floor with her heart racing.

This man makes me feel so damn shameful . . . and I like it! Is that a bad thing?

“What are your thoughts on diversity, Marianne? What nationality are you?”

He wasn’t even looking at the dark-haired, olive-skinned student when he spoke to her. His question startled her before she gathered herself to answer.

“Oh, I’m ah, Iranian and Pakistani. And diversity
is
important. Most of the advanced countries have of the most diverse populations.”

“But is that because diverse groups of people
flock
to these advanced nations, or is it
diversity
that
creates
these advancements? What are your thoughts, Robert?” he asked an older white male in his early thirties, a returnee.

“Ahhh, I’m Irish and German, and it’s a little bit of
both
, actually. Most of the advanced nations start off with migration, rapid population growth, and natural competition; and from there, you generally have a need for more housing and jobs for an abundant workforce, and then the whole thing just explodes into advanced technology to deal with it all.”

Dr. Blake nodded. “Is that right, Queen?”

“Yes,” she uttered without thinking.

“And what nationality are you?”

“Black.”

Her dry answer brought a hefty laugh from her classmates.

“Is that all you are?” the professor challenged her.

Queen shrugged. “I mean, black people aren’t really allowed talk about other races unless you’re
mixed
. And even then it’s a problem.”

“So you’re
not
mixed? You’re a true blue African?” Dr. Blake asked her.

Three African students chuckled and smiled at the idea, knowing better. Queen was nowhere near African. She was an authentic American, with facial and body features that could be from anywhere. She was only
brown
with them.

 “Well,
I’m
mixed,” Dr. Blake informed them all. “I’m Native American, African, British and Dutch, with ancestors from the island of Antigua. But only my Native American ancestry is actually
from
the islands. The rest
migrated
there, or were
enslaved
there. And lord only
knows
how many mixtures I have from the American side of my family.”

Queen didn’t care to hear about it. It was all mumbo jumbo in America. Black was black, and everything in-between was
useless
, unless you were a Creole from Louisiana, and Queen was not. So she ignored it all. She was only there to get her grade.

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

At the end of class, Dr. Blake stopped next to her desk.

“You didn’t feel like I was singling you out, did you?” he asked her apologetically.

She shook it off as she gathered her things to leave. “I singled
myself
out if anything. I just should have said African-American.”

“No, you said what you truly
feel
.”

“Yeah, and you didn’t
accept
it
,” she responded.

“Actually, you gave me a teaching point. We are
all
more than just our
skin
colors. But if no one is willing to be
honest
about it, then I wouldn’t have had a chance to express the
truth
.”

Queen noticed Marianne hanging around to have a word with him. And she was surely exotic enough in her Iranian and Pakistani mix to attract the man. But while dressed in her college gear of a multi-colored, tie-dyed t-shirt and basic blue jeans, she didn’t look his professional match.

Yeah, she got the hots for him,
Queen assumed of her classmate.
She’s just being nosy trying to see what he’s saying to me.

Dr. Blake said, “With a name like
Queen
, I would imagine that you would think more about the motherland.”

She grinned at it. “No, it’s just a name that my mother gave me. And what motherland do
you
claim if your heritage is from so many different places?” she asked him.

He grinned. “Actually, there’s only
one
Eve, the mother of us
all
, and she was found in
Africa
.”

Overhearing them talk about Africa, Marianne gave Queen a look and adjusted her stance.

Oh my God, is he fucking her?Is that a territorial look?
Queen wondered, reading her classmate’s eye and body language.

She was tempted to test her hunch by laying a strategic hand on Dr. Blake’s arm. And she did it anyway, almost involuntarily.

“I love men who can teach me something,” she commented loud enough to hear.

And boy did the claws come out from Marianne’s stare. She looked ready to jump in and claw Queen’s face to suck up her own attention from the tall, enticing instructor.

Well, if he’s not nailing her Middle Eastern pussy yet, then he sure needs to be. Damn!
Queen contemplated.
She acts like her shit is microwaveable and ready to eat in three seconds
.

Dr. Blake seemed oblivious to the gamesmanship and was unaware of the young woman in waiting behind him.

Finally, Queen let him on to it. “Well, it looks like someone needs to talk to you, so let me go ahead and go.”