tagFirst TimeHer Christmas Gift to an Old Friend

Her Christmas Gift to an Old Friend

bySomeGuyNamedKevin©

December, 2001

His mixtape did little to fix the heartache, in actuality, it probably made me reflect on his cheating all the more, but his choice of songs did remind me of his unmistakable charm. The 2 hour drive from Duke to my parents home in Charlotte usually was a chore, but I was reliving two years worth of romance and heartache through that burned cd. The time I spent driving seemed to take a backseat to the time I spent within the lyrics, melodies, and memories floating through my head. Feeling his touch and voice through each of the r&b ballads and soft rock anthems, simultaneously began a process of melting my heart and then hardening it, repeat and rinse.

Lifetime by Maxwell reminded me of our first kiss, which bridged me to memories of that bitch kissing his dick. I couldn't allow my thoughts to linger on how much I loved him, not with the bitterness of that evening continually haunting me. Every time I tried to turn the corner in my mind, get over his cheating, and jump into his arms with forgiveness on my lips, a memory of his honest eyes lying to me undermined the desire to move on.

I still hadn't broken up with Talib, which made me even angrier at my present emotions. Not only did he decide to get his dick sucked by a girl who looked eerily similar to me, but when he was confronted with my yelling, he inadvertently turned the script on me.

"Bee, I'm sorry! You gotta believe me. I never planned for it to happen. Finals were stressing me, we had some drinks, and I didn't think about what I was letting happen."

"So you were too drunk to even remember you had a fucking girlfriend...who...you know. Might not approve of your dick being in the mouth of your lab partner?"

"I'm wrong Bianca. I've said that. I am. Dead wrong. But until you know what it's like to be sexually frustrated, I don't think you can even relate to the feeling of that kind of temptation. "

"Excuse me?"

He exhaled, then tried to digress from his statement of sexual frustration by returning to the 'I was drunk' excuse. I always suspected that he was secretly holding a grudge toward me because I was still attached to the security of being a virgin. Of course he denied having blue balls, and instead kissed me with reassurance anytime I questioned if he was losing patience with me. I could sympathize with his side of things. He was a senior in college, dating a sophomore, and he was likely the only one of his friends not getting any ass, and I'm sure that fucked with his head a little. A guy can only take so much dry humping and tongue kissing before wanting to rip the panties off, right?

It was those rationalizations that kept me from breaking up with him, but it was also those thoughts that kept me from moving on. I started to blame myself for his cheating. I started to question why I still hadn't fucked him, even after two years of dating, that included him coming to Charlotte to meet my parents back in July. Even my best friend Dionne couldn't understand why I was so stuck on making him wait so long for something that all of my other friends had long ago parted with. She once joked that the two years and counting I had Talib wait was longer than the time all of our circle of friends had waited with their men combined.

"Girl, it's just sex. And he's a good dude. Yall been together for ever. What are you waiting for?" she asked me back in November, before Talib decided to bust a nut in the mouth of a Bianca-look-alike.

Of course, she changed her tune once she found out that I walked in on him relieving his frustrations.

"He is so fucking trifling. You deserve so much better, Bianca. Fuck him. He's just a dog like every other nigga out here."

Talib was a lot of things, but a dog wasn't a noun that fit. He was highly intelligent, a Bio-Physics major like I was. Tall, beautiful pecan colored skin, with a personality that matched the genuine likability of his looks. He was a good guy. But it appeared that even the good guys could fuck over the good girl.

My reputation as a good girl could be disputed though. In high school, I was called a bitch and wanna-be-white-girl, among other insults. There was once a rumor that I fucked this guy on the basketball team that I was dating, but it was started by the girl who I had taken him from.

I was light skinned, with long natural hair, a tight body that I worked hard for (spent a lot of time at a gym), with the intelligence to get into Duke. There was a lot to not like about me, from the perspective of other women who envied me.

Thus began a period of me not getting along with other girls, even a month where me and Dionne went at it because in her words, I was acting like I was "better than everyone. Even your best friend."

I didn't necessarily think I was better than people, but I didn't see the crime in thinking I stood out. My hair always was on point, and my fashion sense had me ahead of the curve. While some girls were getting their fashion tips from played out episodes of Beverley Hills 90210, I was meshing Sex in the City suburbanites with the Afrocentric vibe of Lauryn Hill.

While I got attention from guys for being forward, stylistically and academically, those girls got attention (short attention) for being forward physically. I didn't have to fuck anyone to have a nigga leave his girl for me. Was that my fault? Did that make me the bad girl?

High School was left in High School when I went off to college and met Talib my freshman year during a lab. But new reputations grew through dorm gossip, and the uppity, snobby, prudish, label followed me even at Duke. I believed that Talib loved how "pure" and "untouched" I was. As I drove home for the Christmas holidays, I started to see that purity as a sort of prison. Where girls with ideal standards of what sex could represent were sent for living in the new millennium.

I hugged my parents firmly when they met me at the door. 9/11 was still a fresh wound for Americans, so we didn't take for granted what seeing each other again meant. My 18 year old brother James was out with friends, as was my youngest brother Pop Pop, so after telling my parents about the semester (leaving out Talibs cheating) I relaxed on the sofa and flipped through the channels, trying to think positive.

My attempt at positive thinking was interrupted when James came in the door with his best friend Smurf tagging behind. Smurf had been James's best friend since they were kids, and Smurf has been annoyingly in love with me just as long. Smurf was 18 now, but him being of age didn't change that he was still the little boy that my brother would bring over. There were times where his devotion to me was flattering, but more times than not, I looked forward to the day it would evaporate.

"Well if it isn't Miss. Can't-Call-Nobody," James smirked when he saw me on the sofa.

I grinned. "Nice to see you too."

"When you got in?" he asked, while making his way over to give me a hug, Smurf right behind him.

"Bout an hour ago," I answered, reaching to hug him.

He shook his head at my reach. "Uh uh. Not in here, girl. Get your lazy ass up and give your brother a happy-to-see-you-hug."

His playfulness made me smile, though I pretended to make a big deal out of having to get off my ass to hug him. We hugged, and he playfully picked me up off the floor, bear-hugging me until I couldn't breathe.

"OKAY James!" I managed to get out through the tight embrace of his arms. He laughed and put me down, before I nudged him in his big ass head. I had to admit, though we argued a lot, he was one of the things I missed most about home.

"How you doing Bianca?" Smurf asked me, as our eyes connected. His admiration of me still danced in those big brown eyes of his, and I realized then that I missed that too.

I gave Smurf a hug, and noticed something else about him. He was much more in shape that I remembered. I felt so fragile and tiny in his embrace, and having to look up to him for the first time in my life added a new level of feeling as well. To top it off, gone were the days where he smelled like dirty gym socks. I could smell the expensive cologne that made any hug more enjoyable. I stepped back and tried to downplay any hint of checking out this new and improved Smurf.

"I'm doing fine, Smurf," I said plainly, before sitting back down on the sofa.

James laughed, and Smurf shook his head.

"Come on Bee, you know I haven't gone by Smurf since 8th grade. It's G. EVERYONE but you calls me G," Smurf smiled. His teeth were white and perfect.

His real name was Gary, but I guess he thought G sounded more tough.

I rolled my eyes in defiance, and pointed the remote at the tv.

"You'll always be Smurf to me."

"Aww come on, Bianca. After all of these years, why you still front on G like that?" James asked.

I turned towards my brother. "First off, it's Smurf. Not G. G sounds like some sad attempt at being gangster. And Smurf is no gangster. He's...Smurf. Secondly, I'm not fronting."

"So are you saying I will always be a little kid to you?" Smurf asked.

I nodded without checking for eye contact. "Pretty much."

"That's cold, Bee," James said before making his way toward the kitchen. Smurf sat down on the sofa, as I tried my best to ignore his presence. Eventually I grew tired of the silence of two individuals in the same area and decided to make small talk.

"So, how is Mr and Mrs Berry doing?" I asked.

"They are good. Celebrating their anniversary in a few weeks. Gonna be going to the Caribbean."

"That sounds cool. I think my parents need to get away and do something like that. But they are much too stubborn to spend that kinda money."

Smurf smirked. "My parents are stingy with the money too. And after 9/11 and everything they don't even wanna think about flying anywhere. But I guess they feel stressed out. Need to unwind a little."

I continued flipping through the channels, trying to keep the conversation flowing until James returned. "So are you gonna have the place to yourself?"

"Yeah, but i'll be going with my coach on a few recruiting trips during that time."

"Oh that's right. I forgot. You are being recruited for football right?"

"Yeah. Virginia, Maryland, NC State, and Syracuse are all interested. I think NC State is going to offer me a scholarship if I play well during the playoffs. Speaking of which, are you gonna come to any of the games?"

I looked toward him and smiled. "To see my brother, yeah."

"See what? James doesn't ever get in the games," Smurf laughed.

"How you gonna talk like that about your boy?" I challenged him.

James emerged from the kitchen with sodas and a sandwich. He tossed Smurf a sprite, before asking what we were talking about.

"Smurf was just bragging about how wonderful he is at football. And how you don't play, James."

Smurf smirked. "It's true though. At least I ain't lying."

James rolled his eyes. "G you aight. But I still got you beat in basketball, and baseball."

"Chill with that James. Until you get recruited. You CANNOT say you have me beat."

Those two started to go at it, debating about who was better at whichever sport, and I smiled at my handiwork. I left them where they were and decided to head upstairs to my room. I did glance towards Smurf one last time before I left the area, though I justified that it was for curiosity and nothing more. He had grown so much since I had been away in college. James was 5'10, and Smurf stood at least 3 inches above him. Judging by his embrace, he had to be over 200 pounds of muscle. It tickled me that in the years I had been gone, Smurf had transformed from a pudgy 16 year old scrub, to a nicely lined up, goatee having, handsome jock. I couldn't let him know that I noticed, but it was obvious the boy had grown up.

**

Dionne and I went to the movies later that afternoon to see the latest Tom Cruz movie Vanilla Sky. We left tearing that shitty movie apart, but laughing at our favorite part. When Cameron Diaz turned crazy after her one night stand with him. Dionne said she could relate.

"Girl, I'm not gonna lie. I fucked with this one nigga one time. You know it ain't in my style to be just giving up the goods, but I did cuz I was feelin' dis' dude so hard. And the next day, he was acting like I HADN'T just swallowed his cum the night before. Girl, dat' shit HURTS. I damn near went crazy on his ass, even though I knew it was my fault for not clarifying that I wanted more than just a one night stand. I cursed him out though. Left him a dozen drunk messages too," she laughed.

"I have a hard enough time working up the courage to suck my boyfriends dick. Let alone swallowing his....cum. But to do it to a virtual stranger?"

Dionne stared at me. "Bee, you are a prude. Such a prude. Get with the times. This ain't the 90s anymore. Girls like us... BLACK girls like us suck dick now. We swallow cum too."

"Why I gotta be a prude just because I'm 20, and haven't fucked or sucked anyone yet?"

"Because you see yourself as more valuable than the people who have."

I rolled my eyes, and decided to change the subject.

"Anyway. Are you going to go to that big football game on Friday?" I asked.

She nodded. "Hell yeah I am. It's gonna be so many people there. You know Smurf is like, this big time superstar, right?"

"Yeah, I saw Smurf earlier today. He looks....different."

"Chile. Yes he does. I didn't even know it was him when I saw him at the grocery store a few months back. I was with Donnell and I see this chocolate tall ass brother who looked like he just came from working out. I'm like, damn that brother is cute. And Donell looks at me crazy like, 'Dionne, that's Smurf."

I laughed. "What did you say?"

"I played it off. Couldn't have my brother thinking I thought Smurf was...actually attractive. But damn, I was so mad. Can't believe that little fat piece of shit grew up to be...fine."

"Well, I wouldn't call him fine," I said, downplaying it. "He's different lookin'. Better lookin'. Not fine though."

"Tell that to all the girls he be messing with," Dionne said. "Donnell told me that he has all of the girls at his high school just throwing him the pussy. He has a rep for being king dingaling. It's no way to downplay that."

I tried to bury his sex appeal by focusing on that statement alone.

"Knowing Smurf, he prolly fucks any and everything. Yuck."

Dionne shrugged as she drove her car. "Maybe, Bee. But let's not act like we never checked for the dogs when we were in high school. I seem to recall you with that basketball dude, who you KNEW was fucking everyone at that school."

"Yeah, but I'm just saying. Look who we are talking about. It's Smurf, Dionne. SMURF. Let's not make him out to be Morris Chestnut."

Dionne giggled. "Anyway. What are you going to do about Talib?"

"I don't know yet. Did I tell you he made me this cd, with all of these love songs? Thinking that is going to get him out of the doghouse. Nah, he is going to have to BEG and BEG for a long time for me to forgive what he did."

"I guess that's true," Dionne said. And then the worse entered her head, and she started down that slippery slope that she often found herself on. "But if you forgive him when you go back. Then he'll still think he won. Everyone will laugh at you for taking him back. And then you'll be depressed. And then you'll want to drop out of school. And then you'll never get a good paying job. And then.."

"Ok, Dionne. OK! Lord. Well what do you suggest?"

"I suggest you don't worry about him and do you. Or get even."

"Even?"

"You know that dude loves that your flower is just waiting to be picked. You should give that rose to someone else. Let him lose out on something for what he did to you."

"Fuck another guy? Now Dionne, come on."

"Just sayin' girl. Revenge is so sweet. Imagine him waiting 2 years and never getting any pussy, but you meeting some dude back home and giving it up in two weeks. That's just a kick in the balls. If he is man enough to accept it, then yall are even and can move on. If he gets pissy about it, then fuck him. He messed up first."

"Iono about that D. I don't think I have THAT in me."

She shrugged. "Oh you have it. You're just prude enough to think you don't."

I came home to my mother telling me that Talib had called multiple times. I thought about calling him back, but thought against it because of my desire to see him sulk in despair for as long as possible. When I went upstairs, I popped in a VHS porn tape that my roommate had given me as a joke. She thought my celibacy was amusing, and often found the need to remind me that my vagina needed the same attention I gave to my studies.

I watched a portion of the porn, and then fast forwarded to the blowjob scenes. I was curious about the process of giving a good blowjob, especially because I had been planning to give one to Talib for the first time, until I caught him getting one from someone else. Seeing that girl going down on him made me feel deep jealousy, but I had to admit that it also turned me on. I desired to know what a dick would feel like in my mouth. I desired to please my man with such a taboo pleasure.

Maybe Dionne was right about blowjobs not being as dirty or taboo as they were when I was growing up. Every girl denied giving head in high school, except the white girls. What had changed the perception? And why was I now suddenly so intrigued with what I used to think of as degrading? I touched my pussy and began rubbing it slowly while I watched a petite woman attempt to swallow a humongous penis. And then I heard my doorknob turn and stall. I quickly stopped the tape and rushed over to unlock my door. My daddy was telling me goodnight, before I realized I was sweating from both embarrassment and excitement.

"...Night Bianca," my daddy said suspiciously.

"Night daddy."

I was too turned off to go back to the tape.

**

Smurf played great in the big football game. It was easy to see why so many Universities in the area were courting him. He was big, strong, and fast, running and hitting people all game long. James didn't play much, but we showed him support and cheered him on even though our team had lost the game by a field goal.

Between the cheers, I found myself focusing on all of the attention that Smurf was receiving. Not only from the coaches who were in attendance to scout him, but from the many women, both teenage and grown, who were in awe of him. Their admiration of this boy was intoxicating, and Dionne's words came back to me and replayed in my ear. I watched Smurf interact with cheerleaders and mothers, who all seemed to want a piece of him, and those images forced me to admit; he was foinne.

What bugged me was when I went to speak to him and he didn't even seem to notice me because of every other girl in his face.

Though the team loss, it didn't stop all of the young people in the area from attending one of the house parties going on at one of the rich boys homes on the team. I initially turned down Dionne's plea for me to attend the party, but enough pestering from her made me give in. She insisted that I should dress to impress, and meet some sexy guy that I could seduce. Though I tried to explain repeatedly that I wasn't like her, and I couldn't just fuck someone for the fun or revenge of it, she brushed off my concerns.

"Relax, Bianca. Have fun."

"We're older than prolly everyone that is gonna be there," I said.

She ignored my complaining and passed me condoms, which I discretely placed in my purse. Just as I figured, I didn't enjoy the drinking games, loud rap music, and high schoolers running around, and after only about half an hour, I was ready to leave. I kept thinking of Talib, and decided that I would call him so we could discuss our future as soon as I got home. Damn any childish revenge.

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