He's Watching Me

Do you ever get that feeling that someone is watching you? Not stalker/Law & Order: SVU vibes, but being surveyed, observed, consumed, desired? I always have that feeling; the air shifts, and I feel a tickle up and down my spine.

EARLIER TODAY

XXX and I spent the whole day together. Our perfectly curated day began with us hitting the gym, eating everything on our plates at Waffle House, sharing a sensual hot shower, and having a carb-induced nap in his king-size bed.

Two hours later, I feel faint tickles on my lower back. I wake up to forehead kisses from XXX, and I smile.

He is stroking my cheeks and moving my dreadlocks out of my face. I open my eyes to see his beautiful face: full and pronounced lips, a strong civil rights nose, and smooth, dark olive-brown skin. His big almond-shaped brown eyes are sweet and kind, surrounded by perfectly shaped eyebrows and long eyelashes.

I'm so jealous of his eyes. Do you know how much Mary Kay eye cream, serums, eyebrow maintenance, and other bull shit I must buy and use for my eyes to look anywhere near his? I'm still in a dreamy haze when my thoughts are interrupted,

"Wake up, Doll," XXX says with the cutest smile and white teeth. His voice is deep and smooth. "It's nice outside today. Let's go for a ride."

You would have thought my momma told me that 1. we were going to the candy store. 2. She is buying me a pony and a lifesize pink Barbie Jeep 3. We'll get ice cream on the way home! I performed a long and deep catlike stretch and sprung out of bed.

XXX stands in the bathroom doorway dramatically, staring at his watch and taking deep breaths insinuating that I am taking too long. I look back at him and playfully roll my eyes at him. He laughs and props up in the bathroom doorway. His head leaning to the side, smiling and listening to me ramble on about nothing. I know I get on his nerves, but he never shows it. He just chuckles at me and shakes his head. I finish in a record time of 45 minutes and grab my purse as I walk to the door. He gives me a firm but playful smack on my butt as I walk past him out the door.

The weather typically feels like your badass little cousin left the front door to hell wide open, and it's so damn humid that even standing in front of the fan, wet and naked, chewing Sonic ice won't cool you off. Technically, it's Fall, but around here, the temperature is still in the 90s until the holidays. Today's weather is surprisingly pleasant for late September in Louisiana; It feels like mumu and coochie breeze weather!

It's the mid-80 degrees. There's a nice breeze and soft, sunny skies. My type of vibe! But instead of a mumu and no drawls, I opted for a loose and slightly sheer button-down white shirt, cut-off jean shorts, four waist beads that I looped into anklets (two on each ankle), stacked bangles on both wrists, an array of gemstone rings on 5 of my ten fingers, oversized hoop earrings, and platform sandals. I top my vibe off with my signature electric blue eyeliner, bronzer on my nose and cheeks, and fire-engine red lipstick.

XXX, always the cool, fly, and quiet guy, keeps it low-key: yellow gold chain on his neck and matching bracelet on his right wrist, apple watch on his left hand, a simple t-shirt, athletic shorts, and a pair of Kobe's on his feet.

We hop into his red Monte Carlo and dip out.

XXX pulls up at the Downtown River Market. We shop, well XXX took me shopping, from Black crafters and artists vending on the river market today. I was like a kid in a candy store, dragging XXX up and down the vendor section and stopping at all my favorite vendor's tables. I racked up on handmade crafts, clothes, jewelry, art, and beauty products. I even got some plants from local Black growers. I love visiting the River Market, especially when my people are on the scene. I love the shift in the air when we, the black creatives, come out to play.

When we finished shopping, I turned to XXX and said, "Baby, thank you so much! You spoil me."

Kissing me softly on my forehead and lifting my chin to him, XXX says, "You're welcome, Doll." He takes a step back and licks his lips. A smile creeps across his lips, and he says, "Let's put all your loot in the car. I hear some music playing; let's go check it out." I grin as we walk off. XXX's hand is at the small of my back, igniting flutters up and down my back.

We dropped off my stuff in his car and strolled down the pier towards the live music. On the way there, we stopped at a bar and got daiquiris. I got a 24-ounce Kick-Ass Kool-Aid. It's Hypnotic, Hurricane, and Strawberry. The daiquiris are 2 for 1 (always), so XXX got one too. Strawberry. So lame.

"I'm just chilling, Doll, get what you want," says XXX. "Gone and get you an extra shot. You know you want to," he chuckles. I looked at him and burst out laughing. He was right. I got an extra shot in my Kick-Ass Kool-Aid. I love a mid-afternoon buzz.

XXX wrapped his arm around my shoulder as we walked down the pier. We talked about nothing, particularly stealing kisses and playing along the way. I love times like this when we enjoy each other's time. We settled down by the pavilion on the river near the band setup. "Oh, yes," I screamed, "My type of vibe!"

XXX smiled at me as he took in my reaction to the scene before us. The five-member band, led by a bad, thick chocolate sista with a bold and soulful voice, had the entire pavilion rocking! The four remaining members were men, and they were giving so much energy. There was one on the keyboard, the drums, the guitar, and another on vocals.

They mixed their original music with Black classic and current soulful and blues music. My type of vibe!!! I was singing and dancing the entire time. XXX, still chill and very relaxed with his demeanor, sat on a bench and pulled out a cigar he had purchased earlier when we were shopping with the vendors. He kicked back, puffed, and watched me make a fool of myself. I was out there floating in my little world. The wind blew, making my locks swing, my hips swayed, and my booty bounced. Plus, that daiquiri made me feel nice; this was my scene. XXX indulged me just a bit, danced The Wobble with me, and attempted the Tamia Line Dance. You won't find him in the middle of the floor being or seeking the spotlight. He'll be there, in the cut by himself or with his friends taking in the scene.

After chilling on the river all afternoon, we swung by the Masur Museum to check out this dope exhibition by a local young Black woman. I was so excited about the collection of work because the artist has quite the buzz around her, and this is her first solo show at this historical museum. The show is all about exploring rest and the care of black women. I had seen the exhibition several times before, and I'd been talking XXX's ear off about one particular piece about CONSENT. I wanted, no, needed him to see it himself. It's such a phenomenal piece of artwork.

He stared at me as I did my artsy-fartsy thing, talking, oohing, and awing. He let me go on and on about matters he probably already knew about regarding the artist and all her work. He's a visual artist, and I'm an appreciator. But he was engaging with me, nodding, giving his perspectives, chuckling, and grinning that sexy-ass smile at me. He grabbed my hand, pulled me close to him, and smacked me on my ass.

"Let's get out of here," XXX says, lips close to my ear.

I look up to him, biting my lip. A smile creeps across his lips. "Ok, XXX, let's go." I get on the tip of my toes to give him a sweet kiss. His lips are so soft.

We rode with the windows down and the sunroof open to XXX's place. I sit back and prop up my feet on the dashboard. Staring out the window, I see the full moon. It's beautiful. My mind drifts away. A deep wave of tickles rolled over my back.

NOW... THIS EVENING AT XXX'S CONDO

XXX unlocks the door. I float into his condo, dropping my bags by the coat rack in the entryway. I kick off my shoes at the foot of the small stair leading into the raised kitchen. I spin into the kitchen, tossing my purse and phone, which is currently blasting Janet Jackson's Pleasure Principle, on the counter and head for the refrigerator. I'm ass up in the fridge rummaging. We munched down at the river market, but I could get a little snack, water, and my beloved Chardonnay. I pour a generous glass of chardonnay and savor the buttery taste and the coldness on my tongue. Ummmmmm. I set my wine glass down, grab a spoon from the drawer, and head for the pantry.

I tear into the jar of peanut butter XXX has stashed in the back of the pantry. I'm eating, humming, and dancing in the middle of the kitchen floor. I grab a water bottle and start chugging to wash down the globs of peanut butter I just inhaled. I call out, "XXX, do you want some water?" I take another bite of peanut butter, waiting for a response. There is silence. I drink some water and swallow. "Babe, do you want some water?" I said. "Baby?" I called--still silent.

And there it is, the tickle down my back. Only now, it's more prominent than it was earlier today.

When he doesn't respond, I turn to find him standing in the center of the room. He's watching me.

XXX's condo is an open floor plan. It's one big room divided into three sections. The raised kitchen and bar seating are on one side, close to the condo entrance. The dining room, living room, and fireplace are on the opposite side of the room. On the other side of the living is the balcony with a view of downtown and the river.

He's watching me again--solid frame, shoulders back, and standing still. The only thing moving is his steady chest. XXX's lips are closed, and his eyes are on me. The air in the room has shifted. I turn the music off. It's quiet--nothing but our breath and the air conditioner kicking on. His gaze is different from earlier today. Before, he eyed me with adoration and love. I'm a little taken aback by his whole demeanor. The look on his face is intense and expressionless. His eyes are penetrating me. "What the fuck is up with him?" I think to myself.

"XXX," I say. "What is it?" "Is something wrong? Do you want something? What is it?" His expression is still unreadable to me. "Damn, has he even blinked?" I think. XXX has a hunger in his eyes. "Baby, why are you looking at me like that?" I say through a nervous chuckle. "You want some peanut butter?" offering the jar to him.

Finally, XXX says, "I want," his eyes looking over me, "you."

"He wants me?" I say to myself. I stand there for a beat, eyebrows furrowed, blinking. Still clueless.

"Doll, I want you," XXX states.

Then it clicks. "Oooooooooooooooohhhhhhh, ok," thinking to myself.

XXX speaks, "Come here, Doll."

I set the spoon and jar of peanut butter I had been holding down on the kitchen counter and took a quick swig from my water bottle.

I pick up my glass of chardonnay, step down from the kitchen, and saunter over to XXX, stopping a few steps before him, about two arm's length between. I look up to him and say, "So, you want me?" I say.

"Doll, you know I want you," says XXX. "I've been wanting you all day."

I know he wants me. This boy can't get enough of me, and I love that shit. I eat all that shit up. Although, I still get nervous, like a virgin, when I find him watching me like he does. XXX is a sweet, friendly, and nice guy. His shyness comes off as arrogant and cocky to those that don't know him. In crowds or around people he doesn't know, he keeps to himself and is observant. He is never disrespectful, but don't let his chill demeanor confuse you. Those quiet and chill guys have a whole different side to them.

He licks his lips and looks at me up and down. I take a sip of my chardonnay, swallowing hard to hide my nervousness. My back is so sensitive right now, fucking tickle flurries.

He chews the inside of his cheek. The way he is looking at me, I can tell he wants to put his hands and mouth on me with the utmost disrespect. And I'm cool with that. Shoot, I stay ready. XXX dropped and kicked that shy, sweet, respectful motherfucker to the curb when we stepped over the threshold to his condo.

"Unbutton your blouse," XXX says. His voice is low and scratchy.

"Shiiiiiidddd, you ain't got to tell me twice," I think. I take a big swig from my glass of wine and hand it to XXX to hold. He takes the glass from me, and then I untuck my white button-down blouse, raising my hands to unbutton my shirt. His gaze never left my eyes.

Once my blouse is unbuttoned, he takes one step closer, eyes lingering on my chest. I am silent and still. When he gets like this, I know not to move. I know not to ask questions. I watch him and wait.

He softly places his big free hand on the base of my neck, moving his hand slowly down the middle of my chest, to my stomach, and then stopping at the top button of my jean shorts. I make a deep exhale at his warm and soft touch.

"Take this off," XXX says, referring to my bra.

I remove my blouse, letting it fall to the floor. I pull on my black bra, and my full-round titties bounce out. I'm a light almond-colored brown-skinned girl, but it's the end of the summer, so I have a lovely toasted brown complexion except on those delicate areas. So the color contrast from my toasted pecan brown skin to my light almond-toned titties to my chocolate areolas and nipples is something to see.

The look on XXX's face was of great appreciation when my titties bounced out on display. It's like Charlie when he discovered the golden ticket in the Wonka Bar. I'm sure angels were singing in XXX's head.

I grin. "You like?" I ask.

He takes a step forward, closing the space between us. He finishes my wine and sets the glass on the hardwood floor. He then grabs my face with both hands and lowers his full lips onto mine. I raise my hands to hold onto his arms as he holds my face, gently placing soft kisses on my lips, moving to my right cheek and down to the right side of my neck. That's my tender side, and oh, shit, it feels so fucking good!

The fast and greedy bitch I am, I pull back, causing XXX to break from my neck. I get on my toes to tell him I want his lips on mine. He pauses, licking his lips. "Motherfucker, you know what I want!"I think to myself. As if he could read my mind, he smirks. "Oh, so this funny to you?" I think, "You want me to pout or some shit?"

I lower myself, slump my shoulders, and start pouting. (Don't judge me!) He laughs and kisses me hungrily. I eagerly open my mouth to accept him.

He moves his hands from my face. I feel him trying to break away, so I wrap my arms around his neck, giving him all the access to run his hands up and down my back, sides, and side boobs.

He gives me what I want, and I fight to prevent him from breaking away from me. I suck his full bottom lip and roll my eyes as he steps out, him leaving me to sit on the sofa facing the fireplace. He motions me over to stand in front of him.

I'm standing before him in cutoff jean shorts, bare feet, anklet, and titties on full display. The balcony with floor-to-ceiling open windows is to my right. I'm not worried about anyone seeing me, though. Right now, I couldn't care less if there is an audience. XXX is licking his lips and rubbing his chin with his thumb.

We are eye to titty. His big mesmerized brown eyes and my sweet, soft, and heavenly titties hovering in front of his face. "What is with him and my titties?" I think. "I wonder what he would do if I smacked him with it," I chuckle. My thoughts are interrupted when XXX lifts his hand and firmly grasps my right titty. I suck in the air and wince at the abrupt feeling.

My titties are usually tender and swollen around this time of the month, but I don't mind the pain. Shit, I need his firm touch right now. He firmly grips my left titty with his free hand. I moan because of the pain but grab his hands, encouraging the kneading, rubbing, and massaging of my titties. "Yes, boy! Rub all those pre-period lumps out!!! Yes!" I think to myself.

I lift my chin to the ceiling closing my eyes as he moves his hands in a circular motion, from my titties to my chest, my chest to my neck, my neck back down to rubbing and massaging my titties! Lawd Je-zus! And he didn't skip my belly meat either.

XXX is a creative. Visual artist, to be exact. His mediums are painting, sketching, and drawing. Lately, he's been getting into pottery making, and his handwork is an A fucking plus.

My eyes are closed, and he's watching me. I can sense it. I know he is watching every single expression on my face. Watching me lick my lips, bite my lips, toss my dreads back. This motherfucker is torturing me with only his big warm and soft hands.

"You are so sexy," a low grumble from XXX.

Instantly, my pussy jumps. I open my eyes and lower my head just in time to see XXX slip my right nipple into his mouth and bite it. I grab the back of his neck, letting a very loud and audible moan escape my lips. He bites my nipple again, sucks on it, grazes it with his teeth. He knows what that shit does to me. He licks my nipple, making it harder, and goosebumps pop up all over me. He switches to my left nipple; he's so gracious, biting and sucking it while still tending to my right titty, squeezing it and pinching my nipple.

He pulls back from me, removing his hands from my body. I protest, "What are you doing?" This motherfucker likes playing with me. He knows I want his big hands all over me when he has me all exposed and shit! His hands are so soothing.

"Relax," XXX says, taking a deep breath and sitting back in the chair, "calm down."

I stand there facing him, looking down at him, trying not to pout. The more I frown, the more he will piss me the fuck off by taking his sweet goddamn time. But whatever, when he gets like this, I know what to do.

"Give me some more of those lips," XXX says.

I lean down, and he grabs my neck, guiding me to his lips. I open my mouth to welcome his tongue, letting it sink into his mouth. He buries his hands into my dreadlocks as I suck and stroke his tongue, giving him a preview of what I plan to do to his dick.

He grabs my waist slowly, bringing his hands down to the top of my shorts and rubbing the sensitive skin over my right pelvis with his thumb.

"Now back up. And take off your shorts," XXX says.

I step back, almost losing my balance. I swear XXX makes me so nervous and flustered at times. Whenever he gets in this mode, it takes me back to the 10th grade when the most popular guy/Senior/Varsity Running Back sets his eyes on little ole ME. I'm shy, nervous, don't know what to do with myself, blushing uncontrollably, I get chills. I can't look him in the eyes.

Goddammit Doll! You are a grown-ass chick. Stop being a bitch! You've done this before. Be the sexy ass bitch you are, and stop acting like a damn virgin.

"Relax, Doll," XXX says soothingly.