Shattering the Myth (26 page)

A whole month went by. Penny and I had long spent the cash we got for pawning your valuables. I was still dreaming about you, wondering what you were doing at every moment of every day, wondering how often you fulfilled the sexual desires of the woman in the pictures, wondering if you had gotten another ring and proposed to her.

I couldn't take it anymore! I wanted to feel you inside me. I began to think about the best way to go about meeting you and stealing you away from the other woman. She was the other woman, you know? You and I were destined to be together. You belonged to me. She was just borrowing you for a little while.

When you were jogging home from the gym two nights later, you were wearing headphones and never heard or saw me coming until I ran smack into you and fell down on the concrete sidewalk three blocks from your building.

I grabbed my ankle, as if in severe pain. You immediately took the headphones off, knelt down, and asked if I was okay. What can I say? Desperate times call for desperate measures, and robberies are not the only things I know how to plan out.

I pretended my ankle had been sprained in the fall, and you helped me up. I faked a limp and put my arm around your shoulder for leverage. First contact, and it was awesome. You looked ten times finer up close and smelled delicious, even after working out at the gym and running. Something about a sweaty-ass man lights my fire.

I had spent much time getting my running look together. I wanted to look athletic yet sexy at the same time. I had selected some black spandex biker shorts so you could peep
my ass, a cutoff T-shirt so my belly button ring was showing, and a lightweight jacket. I left it unzipped so you could get the full view without me being too obvious.

You helped me over to a bus stop bench and sat down with me, apologizing over and over again about the mishap. I told you it was cool and probably my fault anyway. Then we started chatting like old war buddies, and it was fantastic. We exchanged names. You told me your name was Prescott. I told you mine was Netanya.

After we became comfortable with one another, you asked me if I wanted to go back to your place so I could put an ice pack on my ankle. I quickly replied yes, hoping not to seem too eager. I held onto your shoulder as you escorted me back to your apartment. I was hoping like hell that no one would recognize me from the night I robbed you. Luckily, they didn't. The doorman greeted you by your last name, and we went upstairs.

When we got to your floor and got off the elevator, I almost gave myself away by walking toward your apartment before you even told me whether it was to the left or right. I caught my mistake just in time.

After propping my ankle with the imaginary injury up on a pillow, you left me on the couch, went to get a couple of bottles of Snapple fruit juice from the kitchen, and then turned on the television. Chris Tucker was on cable, so we decided to watch, and his ass was hilarious.

I was really watching you and not the tube. You looked so fine, I wanted to drink your bathwater. Now that I was in your place, I had to figure out how to get in your bed. I had to tread cautiously, since I knew you already had a woman, but like I said before, she was just borrowing you from me.

After the comedy hour went off, an R-rated movie came on. When they flashed the warnings across the screen saying it
contained nudity and extreme sexual content, I was happy because I was counting on it helping to get you in the mood. I was praying you didn't reach for the remote to change the channel, and you didn't.

My ankle wasn't hurting at all. I was big-time frontin'. The only things aching on me were my breasts and the tender, wet area between my legs. The movie turned out to be a pretty good one—a little bit too good, because you became so enthralled in it that our conversation almost ceased altogether. I just lay there, peeping at you out the corner of my eyes from my position on the couch. You were sitting over on your love seat, all into the flick.

Prescott, I swear, part of me wanted to get up, leave, and let you go on with your life with the
other
woman. After all, I was living a life of crime, destined to end up in the big house or get taken out in a blaze of glory. If nothing else, at least the other woman could have offered you a stable and secure future.

I couldn't do it, though. I couldn't give you up without a fight, so I tried to get you in bed instead. I told you all about my life. Well, some of it. Everything I said was true too. I just happened to leave out the illegal activities. I told you about my abusive childhood, my alcoholic mother, how my first sexual experience had been against my will, how no man had ever truly loved me, how I felt I would never know what it feels like to be cherished and adored.

You forgot all about the skin flick and listened intently. I started crying, and it wasn't fake crying either. I had never come clean with anyone like that before, with the exception of Penny, and it felt good to release all the pain. It was as if I turned the couch in your apartment in to a chaise longue in a therapist's office, because I laid out my heart to you. It wasn't even all about the sex anymore. I began to feel a closeness to
you, a sense of warmth overcame me, and it was one of the greatest moments of my life.

You came over to the couch, put your arms around me, and I cried on your shoulder. You held me so tenderly, like a mother holding a newborn on her shoulder in the rocking chair of the hospital nursery. It was then that I knew I had fallen for you bad. My feelings were totally indestructible and irreversible.

To this day, I can't recall everything that happened next. Somehow we ended up lying on your bed together, with my head resting on your chest, and I could hear your heart beating. It was such an intensified moment. Your heartbeat was so profound, it made me feel like I was part of you, inside you like a fetus inside a womb. In a sense, all the love and affection I felt I missed out on from my mother seemed to flow out of you.

You kissed me on my forehead first, then my eyelids, the tip of my nose, and finally my mouth. I partook of your thick, wet tongue gratefully, and we delved into a kiss that knew no boundaries. I relaxed my throat so you could push your tongue even farther into my mouth. You were so passionate, so loving.

You undressed me with gentle, strong hands and made love to me for the rest of the night. In fact, we didn't leave your apartment for three whole days. You called in sick, and I pretended to call in sick when I really called Penny instead. You wouldn't answer the phone at all, letting the voice-mail service answer for you. You wouldn't answer the door, and we barely ate a thing besides each other.

You washed my hair in the shower, gave me candlelight bubble baths and then licked me dry, delighted me with massages, and tempted my taste buds with your delicious body. We made love all over your place, everywhere from the kitchen counter to the balcony, but my favorite was when you banged me slowly up against the wall from behind.

You started off by lifting me up against the wall and sucking on my breasts. You let me down briefly and lifted me up against the wall, upside down this time, and started eating my pussy out. I followed suit and started sucking your dick, even with all the blood rushing to my head. Good thing I'm flexible.

After we did that for a good while, I told you I was feeling light-headed, and you stopped so I could stand upright again. I loved the whole thing and wished I could have held the position longer.

You told me to face the wall and put my hands up. You rubbed the head of your dick up against my ass and then pulled my ass out toward you so it could rub against my clit.

I felt your dick enter me, and I came so hard, the first of many orgasms up against your living room wall. Your dick took on a rhythm of its own as it started going in and out of me, slowly at first, the intensity growing with each stroke. We both came over and over again, and I prayed the episode would never end.

After the three days were up, you knew it was time to go back to work before you lost your job altogether, so I followed suit, lying and saying I had to get back to work too. You never mentioned the other woman. Mysteriously, after my first night there, her pictures disappeared from your dresser mirror. You probably shoved them under some clothes in a drawer when I wasn't in the room.

You went back to work, but we started seeing each other all the time, spending as many nights and weekends together as we could manage. I lied to you and told you I couldn't receive calls at work. I asked you to page me all the time instead.

Eventually, I got sick of all the lies, told Penny my love for you was stronger than my love of money, and quit the business.
I found a job as an administrative assistant and worked the old nine-to-five.

Two months later, all of the jewelry stolen from your apartment mysteriously reappeared in a brown envelope delivered by the mailman. It was a miracle, or so you thought. Truth be known, I worked my ass off to get it all back. It wasn't easy either, since the time limit on the pawn ticket had expired. I had to pay extra to get the stuff back. Fortunately, all of the items were still there, except for one—the ring.

One of the guys who worked at the shop owed me big-time. I called in a favor and got the address of the person who purchased it. I had to cross the blue line of the law one more time and steal it back. I figured it was a better idea than knocking on her door and asking to buy it.

Today, I love you more than ever. You have given me all the things I never thought I would have. You have fulfilled my every desire. One day soon, I hope you'll put a ring on my finger. If not that one, another one. I will gladly say, “I do!”

 

Journal Entry—June 1990

 

Dear Diary
,

The worst part of growing up is finding out that your knight in shining armor has been eaten by time's dragon. . . .

When I was a little girl, I didn't have the dreams and fantasies that most little girls have. Normal little girls dream of being a beautiful princess trapped in a tower by an evil queen. They dream of a handsome knight on a big white horse rescuing them, taking them to a magnificent castle full of servants, and showering them with diamonds and treasures
.

Well, instead of being a beautiful princess, I was an average little darling in my dreams. Instead of being trapped in a tower by an evil queen, I was locked in a closet by my evil stepmother. Instead of my knight riding a big white horse, he straddled atop a big black Harley. Instead of taking me to a castle, he took me to a small log cabin out amid the woods with a fireplace and lots of windows so we could see nature's creatures
and they could see us. And instead of showering me with diamonds and treasures, all I could think about was the way he could make me feel
.

Even though we have yet to make love, my knight in shining armor makes me feel that way. I dream of him all the time. I dream of his lips upon my lips, on my neck, atop my breasts. I dream of his hands touching my face, caressing my behind, between my thighs. Orgasm on top of orgasm
.

I dream of him laying me down upon a bed of roses and blowing lightly in my ear. I dream of us sharing every fantasy that each of us holds dear. I dream of making love in a rain shower, on a sailboat, in a clock tower. Orgasm on top of orgasm
.

I dream of giving him an oil massage, feeding him chocolate-covered strawberries, licking honey off of his chest. I dream of him entering me from behind and putting my entire body to the test. I dream of candlelight dinners followed by bubble baths. Orgasm on top of orgasm
.

One day, my knight will come to me, and when he does, all of my desires shall be fulfilled, all of my dreams shall come true. I know that he is here somewhere, lurking in the shadows of my soul, imagining the pleasures my body shall give to him as well. And when the time comes, he and I shall become as one and our nights will bring us both orgasms on top of orgasms
.

Imani

Six years later

Well, just like I always dreamed about as a little girl, I bought my cabin out in the woods. I wasn't rescued by my knight in shining armor, though. Instead, I left home at the age of seventeen, leaving my abusive stepmother alone with my father, which is what she wanted all along.

I got a partial academic scholarship for college and worked
nights as a waitress to make up the difference. It had been a long road, but I had it all—at least, financially and professionally.

After receiving a degree in marketing, I decided to venture out on my own and start an information brokerage firm, marketing information via the Internet. It paid off. I have a nice house in the city, my two dream cars, and the log cabin I always dreamed of.

There was one thing still missing: the man of my dreams. Even though I had all the things most people use to measure success, the most vital part of happiness was still missing from my life. I craved for a man's touch so much. A man who would make all my childhood fantasies come true. A man who would turn my ass out and make me cum at least twenty times in one night.