tagInterracial LoveHow to Make Up

How to Make Up


I hate to argue. I can't see where it solves anything. It just makes everybody angry and upset. I really hate it when he and I argue. This one was a humdinger and I was still feeling like I wanted to kick his ass. Both of us have hot tempers and while I am only a bit better than he is at containing that temper; he had done the one thing that always drove me into a rage -- accused me of doing something I didn't do and not listening when I tried to tell him that. I was furious.

I finally said, "You know what? You're right about everything all the damn time so I guess you're right now. Fuck you anyway!"

And I started to leave the room.

"Fuck me? Fuck you and don't you walk away from me when I'm talking to you!" he roared.

"Kiss my ass!" I said and left the room.

It was best. The next thing I would have done was pick up something and crack him one if I hadn't gotten away from him.

The thing about it is when I get that mad, the tears come. I didn't want him to see me cry so it was time for me to leave the room. I walked away because I needed to cool off. I didn't want to say anything to him that I would regret later. I went to my office and sat in my window seat and gazed outside and hoped I would not cry.

He came into the room quietly and sat next to me. I didn't look up or acknowledge his presence. I just sat and kept my thoughts to myself. I still didn't trust myself to speak to him. He heaved a big sigh and I felt him move a little closer but I still kept my eyes down.

He put his hand on my hand and I still didn't speak.

"Ok baby, I'm the asshole here. I went back and looked at the activity in the bank account and you didn't cause the overdraft. I did. I was wrong. I'm sorry, baby."

I looked up at him and he saw the tears I was trying to hold back and he hugged me.

"Don't cry, baby! I didn't mean all that shit I said. I was angry and I was wrong. I'm sorry, I really am," he said.

I knew he was upset that I was crying. He had been so angry and had said that I was selfish and irresponsible and that I was trying to spend up all our savings. He knew that wasn't true. I was always thrifty and I loved him deeply. But his words had hurt me and he knew it. I pulled away from him and went into the bedroom and closed the door. I just didn't want to talk to him then. I couldn't.

I knew he was outside the door but he didn't try to come in. He left me alone to sort out my feelings.

I had been with a man before him who had frequently yelled at me and called me names and accused me of doing things I hadn't done. He knew how I hated that and that I didn't want anyone to ever treat me that way again but he had forgotten all that in his anger.

I knew he'd been having a rough week at work but that was no reason to bring it home and dump it on me. Was this how it was going to be for us from now on? If it was, I had some thinking to do. I would leave before I let him hurt me like this again.

After a while, he finally knocked on the door and asked if he could come in and talk to me. I said yes and he came in. I looked at this man that I loved and wondered what our future would be.

He was just a shade under 6 feet tall, well built and great looking. He had thick brown hair and deep blue eyes. He was very smart and capable and usually we could sit down and talk out anything. We had argued before but nothing like this. Something was going on with him to make him act that way and I didn't know what it was.

He'd been my hero when we first got together. He didn't care that some of his friends and family didn't think it was wise for him to be involved with me. They were concerned that I was black and that having a black girlfriend would be a negative force in his life. They didn't think I was good enough for him. He said it didn't matter. He loved me and wanted us to be together so we moved into a house and we had been very happy. I knew he would always be my best friend and my lover so I felt loved and secure. The people who had objected had mostly all come around and they knew they had been wrong. Our relationship had been nothing but wonderful for us both and I had been sure I had found the love of my life.

I wasn't so sure now.

"Sweetheart, please listen to me. I know you're mad and upset and it's all my fault. I promised you I would never talk to you like I did and I broke my word to you. I don't know what else to say to you except I'm sorry. I'm not like your old boyfriend was. I love you and I don't want to hurt you or say anything that will cause you pain.

It's a lame excuse but I have had a terrible week at work. I made a mistake at work that is not like me and I lost my concentration and lost a big account and nearly lost my job. I talked to my boss and we worked it out and I did get three smaller accounts later in the week so it's all right but I've been angry with myself and I am so sorry that I brought that to you. I shouldn't have done that. I was stupid and I was wrong and I will never ever do that again. I'm begging you to forgive me, angel. Please. I promise I will never speak to you that way again."

"I didn't know that, honey. Why didn't you tell me? I knew something was wrong, but I figured if it was really bad you'd tell me. You always do," I told him.

"I felt like such a loser. I didn't want you to think that about me too," he said, looking down at our hands.

I was aghast. How could he think that? Did he not know how much I loved him?

"I know you're not a loser. I would never think that about you."

He was silent a moment and I know he was thinking that he had said such harsh things to me and knew I would never do it to him.

"You are the best thing that has ever happened to me," he said softly, "and I don't know what I would do without you. I can't believe what an asshole I have been. I did just what I said I would never do to you. I hope you know that I will never do it again. I know you had to be wondering if being with me was the right thing after the way I acted. I don't blame you. I would be upset and not trusting too. But I want you to believe me and trust me again. I understand I have to earn it and I will. I know what a wonderful thing having your heart is."

I looked at him a long time. I could pack up and leave and then what? I loved him and I knew he loved me and I had to trust him and know he would never make that same mistake with me again.

"I guess we both need to learn to control our tempers," I sighed.

"We're both passionate," he said, caressing my face. "that's what makes this all so great. You don't take any shit either. You cursed me out for real. I was thinking, 'damn, she is ferocious!' I don't want to go through that again, baby."

"I'm not going to just let you run over me like that. You know I won't."

"I do. And all that passion and power is why I love you so much. You know you're so fucking hot when you're mad -- I almost gave in just so I could touch you. I got really turned on but I knew you were too mad at that moment for me to even say it to you."

"I would have probably slapped you silly if you had tried to touch me then," I told him, looking in his eyes.

"I know but it might have been worth it to get slapped if you let me have a little," he replied.

He was running his hands up and down my arms as we talked.

"Just a little? That's all you wanted? Just a little?"

"Oh hell no. But just a little might have opened the door to a lot more," he whispered, running his tongue around inside my ear.

"You're absolutely on fire when you're mad. Your eyes are bright and shining and you have your hands on your hips and you stand there with your tits pointing at me and you get me all hot and confused. I can't decide if I want to keep fighting or if I just want to bend you over and take you right on the spot."

His hand had slipped inside my tee shirt and was tweaking my nipple as he kissed my neck.

"Even when we are fighting, your mind is on my coochie?" I asked.

He was getting me hot too. He had pushed me back in the bed and slyly had gotten on top of me.

He was such a horny devil.

"Your coochie is always on my mind," he said licking my throat, "I'm always thinking about how I can get some."

"Nasty dog," I teased.

He howled like a dog and then started flicking his tongue across my nipple. I moaned without even thinking about it. His hand eased down my shorts and somehow found its way to my coochie.

"Spread your legs, baby. Let me get in there. I know you're getting wet," he said.

I did and his finger went up and down the length of my pussy and then he put it in his mouth,

"Oh baby, your juices taste so damn good!"

I swear he must have had a roadmap of my pussy somewhere that he had memorized. He always knew just where and how to touch me to get me worked up.

"Damn, honey..." I moaned.

"Yes, sweets," he whispered, "you want me in there, don't you? You want my dick in that hot little pussy, don't you, baby?"

I did. I really did.

We both got out of our clothes and he climbed back on top of me and I felt him pushing his way inside. He likes to kiss me when he's inside me and I like that too. Our tongues were everywhere inside each others' mouth as we rocked together. I dug my nails into his back and that seemed to urge him to go faster and harder. We rolled over and I was on top of him. I gazed down into his blue eyes and smiled.

"Don't you ever fuck with me like that again!" I told him.

He smiled back at me, "I don't want to fuck with you. I want to fuck you. Next time, I'll just bend you over while you're screaming at me."

"You better not," I said.

I felt it coming.

"Oh yes I will. This coochie is too good to not get it," he was groaning and barely able to get the words out.

"Shit baby...."

And I replied with "Oh shit!" as I came. He closed his eyes and started that sexy moaning that signaled his release. It always turned me on.

We rolled over side to side and gazed at each other.

"Make up sex is always hot," he whispered.

"That's it? That's all you have for me after you pissed me off like that?" I squeaked.

I knew he loved a challenge.

"Still goading me, huh?" he laughed and pulled me close again.

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