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She was underneath me this time. I finally looked her straight in the eyes, but she wouldn't look at me as I was thrusting.
"Baby, look at me. Look at me, Jay." She finally turned and looked into my eyes. "Don't take your eyes off me." I ordered. This was what true lovemaking was all about.
We didn't take our eyes off each other. She might have closed them, but we looked at each other, the entire time. I felt like Jason Stackhouse from "True Blood" when he did V with that Bohemian chick.
We sat up and started grinding while she was on my lap. We still looked at each other. After a nice little thrust, she came, and screamed so loud, I thought she was about to die. Then, she collapsed into my arms. I held her tight and we kissed and hugged the rest of the night. Oh, except for when we woke up at four in the morning to have sex again.
That experience brought us so close together. Me and Jay were in love up until graduation. She wanted to go to Grambling, the prestigious HBCU. She was accepted. Me on the other hand? I wanted to stay here in Illinois and attend U of I. We were both crushed. It got weird between us because we were so in love, but knew we had to let it go. A long distance relationship wasn't going to cut it.
When the ceremony took place, we both cried our eyes out after we'd taken the pics and such. The day she had to leave for Grambling, I held her close to me and squeezed her like he was going out of style. Technically, she was. I didn't even care that people were whispering and talking about us.
"I love you so much. Don't ever forget about me, Jayda."
She was beside herself. Her mom had to basically rip her off of me and put her in the car. I didn't want us to end. But we had to.
To this day, I've never had a relationship like that again. I don't think I ever will. That night when the snowstorm happened is epochal--I looked it up and actually remembered what it meant--to my life. It marks the day I became a man. Of course, I wasn't a virgin, but I became a man who truly understood the meaning of love. We had sparks. So much so that it was hard for us to stare into each others' eyes when we made love. I cherish that night forever, because it's the only thing I have these days, besides the pictures of her. I just hope she feels the same way. I sometimes smell her on my bed. Her hair products on the pillows. The scent of her still lingers, in my imagination. We're still together, in my imagination.
- COMMENTS
Anonymousover 1 year agoA good story that needs to be read more.
RE: regarding the hood language - perhaps that was part of the reason her mother moved?
AMHJ89over 10 years agoAlthough I don't particularly care for her speech, it has nothing to do with her race because where i'm from plenty of people from every race actually speak that way and it annoys all the same. As far as when rappers and hip hop artists do it, I simply don't listen to them.. It grates on my nerves but I loved the story for what it was and was not offended by the use of slang at all!
Anonymousalmost 11 years agoBlack people are capable of proper speech. No matter what era!!!
Anonymousabout 11 years agoi almost loved it until i read how she spoke wth you really must don't know that many black people
