Kismet : An Excerpt

Note: This is an excerpted chapter of a longer novel-in-progress.

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This rain was something fierce! I probably should have called Nadia and canceled our dinner plans for the night, but I figured since both of the men in our lives were out of town on business, it would be good for us to have some girl-y alone time. It seemed like forever since she and I have been in each other's company without the men around. Ever since Nadia and Nathan got married and moved in together six months ago, it's like they're never apart except for when I ride the train with her to work in the mornings.

We get on the El at the same UIC-Halsted stop, but get off at different ones--she gets off at Jackson, I get off at Washington--that gives us about fifteen minutes every morning to try and have a conversation over all the hustle and bustle of an early rush-hour morning on the train. And we get off work at different times, so we never ride home together. Any other time, they are glued at the hips. You never see one without the other. They are so maddeningly happy. But I guess in the twelve years that I've known her, she's always been happy in any relationship she's been in. She's always been my model of excellence as far as relationships go. The girl has never been in a bad one. I don't know if it's luck or skill but whatever it is, she's good at them. She's always parted ways with her exes on good terms. She says it's because she's always friends with her lovers before they become her lovers. I've tried that method before but sometimes I just fiend for the loving and skip through all that "get to know you" stuff that friendships are built on. It's probably why I'm having issues with my flavor of the month; we started off getting freaky from day one.

I met Lamar while out the Desert Bar in the River North section of Chicago with Nadia and Nathan. I had just ended a tumultuous three month affair with another dog in the string of dogs I was dating and I was in a funk and they decided they were going to drag me out to heighten my spirits. I guess it worked.

Lamar was a tall, light-skinned brother with a bald head and the whitest pearly whites I had ever seen. And he was grinning all up in my face with them. He bought me a drink and we started chatting. It was a wrap from that moment on. I knew from the moment he said, "Hi, I'm Lamar Washington," that I was taking this scrumptious specimen of a man home with me if he was willing. Needless to say, he was willing.

We ended up talking about all kinds of things in the three hours we were standing at the bar. Hell, we didn't even stop talking to hit the dance floor. I was enraptured with the words that were exiting his perfectly formed, thick lips. Actually, to be completely honest, I don't think that I can recall a lot of what we talked about, I was too busy staring at his lips and wondering what he would look like with his white linen button up shirt and crisply pressed khakis in a heap in a corner of my bedroom. I just know I had to have this man, in all his naked glory, in my bed. I hadn't had a decent lay in damn near a month, and I was ripe and willing for Lamar. I guess I was sending all the right signals, because by the end of the night, long after Nadia and Nathan had already said their goodbyes to return home, Lamar was asking me if I would like to get out of there and go eat somewhere. I nixed that idea immediately and suggested, with the liquor he kept supplying me serving as my liquid courage, that he come over to my place and eat me instead. He was definitely down. And I do mean, down!

He drove to the Desert Bar, whereas I took the train in with Nadia and Nathan, so we headed over to the lot where his car was valet parked and made the twenty minute drive down Lake Shore Drive to my flat just a few blocks up from my best friend and her newlywed husband's flat and right around the corner from the University of Illinois at Chicago. For the entirety of the ride, I was reaching across the gearshift to massage his inner thighs while he did the same. It wasn't as easy for him because he had to keep shifting gears in his brand new, shiny, candy-apple red, convertible Corvette. We left the top up because as always, the Windy City was windy--for some reason, this night more than any other in recent memory. It was just the same to me.

Miraculously, he was able to find parking directly outside my flat. He deftly pulled in to the parallel spot and came over and opened my door for me. Before I was even able to get out the car fully, he was kissing me with fervor and passion, sticking his thick tongue deep in my mouth as I imagined what it would feel like for the friend beneath his belt line to stick itself just as deeply in my searing moist tunnel. We made out like that for what seemed like hours as he palmed my ample backside and I reached down the front of his pants. I stopped the kissing to whisper to him, "Let's take this inside."

He grabbed my hand and asked, "Which one is yours?" I motioned silently to the row of flats in front of us, and we climbed the stairs two at a time. I was having trouble finding the key to unlock the door to the front of the building, fumbling for the right one because he had moved my thong to the side underneath the short denim skirt I was wearing, and inserted a long, slender finger into my secret hiding place. He was stroking it long and gentle and I was having a hard time focusing on finding the right key. Finally, I had managed, and we went bounding up the stairs to my third story flat. When we got to that door, I again had to find keys. This time, he wasn't as gentle with his fingering. He used short, rapid strokes with his thumb on my hard button and it seemed to penetrate directly to my core. I thought I was going to explode in ecstasy right then and there. Instead, he stopped and pulled his finger out and took my keys from me, leaned me over the railing of the stairs in front of my door, lifted my skirt, pulled my panties to the side, and positioned himself behind me.

I looked back at him with lust in my eyes and whispered, "Right here? My landlord lives just below!"

He didn't seem to care and shushed me as he dropped his khakis and boxers in one fluid motion and pulled a condom out of his wallet and put it on. He was already at full attention and I was wetter than wet. He slid in with ease. I almost screamed at the delicious feeling his filling me brought, instead I let loose a satisfied sigh. At first, he stroked me gently allowing me to adjust to his girth. He was not only lengthy, what I like to call a buck-fifty, because a dollar is six inches long, but he was a nice size around too. Apparently, he knew what he was working with, because he allowed me ample time to get used to his size. I moved slowly back and forth, eventually swaying from side to side, wiggling my apple-bottom and he took that as his indication that I was good and ready for some real action. He cast aside the preemptive gentleness, and started pumping in and out without abandon. I was on my tippy-toes because even in my four inch stiletto pumps, my petite five-four frame was still not quite the right height to match his languid six-four. He placed one hand on my backside and he reached the other around to play with the key to the center of my salvation. I was groaning and moaning as I hadn't in a long while. Lamar eventually had to take his other hand off my round, soft, fleshy behind, and use it to muffle my sounds. I bit the skin between his thumb and forefinger because I was really getting into it and didn't want anything to restrict the screaming out of my pleasure.

He leaned over me to lick on my earlobe, and blow a soft stream of sound into my ear. It took awhile to register that he was actually talking to me because I was so lost in the moment. He was reminding me that I lived above my landlord. I giggled a little bit and brought my moans down a few decibels and replied, "Oooooh, yeah, let's aaahhh, go inside. Uhhhmmmm, you wanted to ahhhh eat anyway." With that he slid out of me and pulled up his pants, still hard as a rock, not bothering to re-buckle his belt, and handed me my keys which I guess he had placed in his pockets before dropping his pants. I calmed myself down enough to find the right key and place it in the lock. Then I took his hand and led him directly to my bedroom.

I slipped out of my skirt and panties and walked over to the stereo and turned on the radio. It was already on WVAZ V103, Chicago's R&B and old school station, and conveniently enough, they were playing Silk's "Freak Me." And Lamar proved to have some singing ability in addition to whatever day job he told me he had. He sang seductively in my ear, "Let me lick you up and down till you say stop. Let me play with your body, baby, make you real hot. Let me do all the things you want me to do. Cause tonight, baby, I wanna get freaky with you." All the while, he was untying the straps to my halter top from behind my neck. He lifted it over my head and proceeded to back me deftly into my bed. As I lay there, he again dropped his pants and boxers and pulled his shirt over his head, not bothering with the buttons. Then he positioned himself on his knees at the foot of the bed and started at licking at my knees. He first tongued down the front of my left knee then lifted my leg up high in the air and started licking the back of my knee, awakening nerves that I didn't know existed. He did the same with my right leg. Then instead of going up like I expected, he licked down my calves, making sure to get my shins too. He finally reached my feet and again started on the left one, first untying the straps that wrapped my stilettos to my calves and allowing the shoe to drop to the floor. He stuck his tongue out and stroked the entirety of my instep with it. I was in heaven! I didn't know that having one's feet licked could feel so good. Then he took my big toe into his mouth. He was sucking on it like as if it tasted like it was chicken from Harold's. He then slipped his tongue in between my big toe and the one next to it before sucking on it as well. He did this with each of my toes then repeated the action on my right foot. I was too far gone! I think I could have had an orgasm right then and there if he hadn't stopped.

Instead, this freaky man licked back up my right leg and licked my inner thighs. I was just lying there, loving every second of it. He nibbled a bit on my inner thigh, making sure to get the left and the right, not neglecting a centimeter of skin between my knees and my pleasure mound. It was like I had died and gone to heaven. I didn't care what happened in the world, as long as Lamar had his tongue on my body, I was good. Then he completely surprised me by stopping. My previously closed eyes now opened with a quickness as I sat up on my elbows and asked him with as much indignation as I could muster in that excited state, "What are you doing?"

He simply smiled a crooked smile at me with his perfectly white teeth and scrumptious thick lips and asked, "Where's the kitchen?"

I answered, "Down the hall, why?"

"You'll see." With that, he left. I heard the whoosh of the air seal on the refrigerator being broken as I imagine he opened the door and began rummaging inside. I guess he found whatever it was he was looking for and closed the door. I heard his footsteps coming back towards the bedroom and was poised to ask him what that was all about but then I saw that he returned carrying a can of whipped cream in one hand and grapes in the other. Whatever I had formulated in my mind to ask him exited my head promptly. I laid back down, no longer propping myself up on my elbows, while he re-assumed his position between my thighs. He took the top of the whipped cream off and shook the can a little then dispensed some on my freshly trimmed triangle of hair. I jumped a little bit because it was cold. But he quickly took care of that by blowing a breath of air from the whipped cream to the spot where my cheeks met the bed. He then popped a grape in his mouth and then leaned down to insert it into my sugar coated walls. He pushed it in with his tongue and then left his tongue in there to swirl around and search for that dime-sized patch of rough, hard skin on my upper wall that was the source of more pleasure than should be legal. Once he found it, as was indicated by the increase in pitch in my moan, he worked at withdrawing the grape he had inserted by applying a hard sucking pressure. He got the grape out and placed it on the mound of whipped cream he created then repeated the same with another grape. By the time there were ten grapes in the mound of whipped cream, I had cum all over his face at least twice already. I lost count. I think he would have kept this up forever if I hadn't begged him to be inside me. Before he obliged, he licked up all the whipped cream and ate all the grapes. But even then, he wasn't done giving me pleasure.

He got up from between my legs and turned me over onto my stomach. I thought he wanted it from behind again so I immediately assumed the position with my head and upper body flat against the bed and my rear in the air, but he pushed me down flat against the bed. I was confused but by this time I was willing to follow this man wherever he wanted to take me in this bedroom jaunt. He climbed up on the bed, this time on his knees between my legs and began to lick my earlobe. Again, he made sure to cover both the left and the right, then he stooped lower and licked from my left shoulder blade all the way across to my right one, sending shivers down my spine. He followed that up my licking down my spine. I quivered with the good feelings that brought. Then he blew all the way back up and this time licked down both sides of my body. I squealed like a schoolgirl into the mattress. It was pleasure beyond anything I had imagined while standing at the bar in the Desert Bar over five hours ago with this man.

When he reached the dip between my waist and butt, he rose up and paused for a second as if he was trying to think of what he would do next to illicit the loudest moan from me. If that was what he was doing, it didn't take long for him to figure out. He bent down and nibbled on my cheeks, biting them gently as if he were nibbling on an apple or something. Again, I was lost. If I didn't wake my landlords beneath me while we were out on the landing, I was sure I had awoken them now. I was screaming in utter nirvana. He continued the nibbling all the way down my rear and went back to the spots behind my knees and then to my feet. When he finished with the last toe, he turned me over again.

I looked at him, completely satiated, yet yearning for more, and begged him, with hunger in my voice, "Lamar, please, put it in!" Finally, he did after sliding on another condom I handed him from my bedside drawer. This time, I really did scream and I came instantaneously upon his entry.

"Tell me how much you like it, Lecara."

"Oh God! I love it!"

"Tell me how much."

"Lamar, I love it."

"Tell me what it feels like."

"It feels like little bits of ecstasy."

With that, he started stroking harder and deeper asking, "Just little bits?"

"Ooooh." Was all I could manage to get out.

He flipped me over once again and I assumed the position I was in before, and he grabbed hold of my hips and starting pounding with no mercy and asked again, "Just little bits, Lecara?"

Again, I just mumbled, "Ooooooh." Then I added a few praises to God and His Son. I think I even managed to get out a semblance of his name, "Laaaaaaammmmar."

That seemed to satisfy him. His stroking became even increasingly faster and I could feel him swell inside the sheath of latex and he started groaning and moaning and I felt the release of his pleasure. He held on to my hips with a powerful grip for a whole minute before we both collapsed, with him still inside of me, onto the bed. We were both panting with our breaths coming in ragged, short bursts and fell asleep just like that.

That was the first night with my current man that I was now having issues with but still, I was reliving it with a wicked grin on my face while standing on the front doorstep to my best friend's flat, pushing the button to the buzzer on the intercom. There was no answer. I tried pushing it a few more times. Still, nothing. I knew she had to be home because we reconfirmed the plans by email just the day prior and she's never not-called to cancel during the twelve years of friendship we shared. So, I knew she must be home. I was a little early, so I figured she might be in the shower or something so I decided I'd just walk around to the back where she had steps up to her balcony and where there was a key in a combination lockbox hidden in one of the potted plants. I had used it plenty of times before in times just like this or whenever I needed a place to crash because I had let yet another dog into my home to live, and needed to get away from him.

It was going to be hell this time though because of all the wetness, but I figured it was better than standing underneath the eave getting hit sideways by the rain, umbrella or not. At least if I walked around to the back, I could be inside and dry.

I let myself in the gate that surrounded the back the building and walked around to her balcony and started up the stairs. As I reached the third story landing, I looked up and was completely surprised to find Nadia standing on the balcony, her five-five, coca-cola shaped frame standing in the rain, her dark curly jet black hair soaked and hanging limply framing her round olive complexioned face. Her nipples were poking out and standing at attention through the front of her t-shirt. My girl was a hot mess! I started taking the stairs two at a time and completely disregarded my umbrella. I reached her on her balcony and ushered her in the house to the kitchen table and sat her down.

I ran into her guest bathroom where I knew she kept extra towels and went and got one and wrapped it around her shoulders. "Nadi, what's wrong?" I asked with worry in my voice and concern in the wrinkles that were forming on my forehead.