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The
Visitor
Latief Sabrè
Johnson
Houston, Texas - Radio
As I sat in my penthouse feeling as lonely as the number one, I thought
to myself that I of all people shouldn’t be alone on a Saturday night. I
am very approachable because of my modest good looks. I was once told, I
had a comfortable look; I was invitingly handsome. I am charming, well
rounded and filthy rich, and the only company I had was Buster the
doorman. I could have easily called up a skeezer, a floozzie, a harlot,
and told her to come take care of me, but tonight I really wanted
genuine companionship.
Evan, my closest female friend, told
me that she was on a date and that if at anytime during the evening the
outing turned sour, she would give me the word to come and intervene.
What was I supposed to be: Captian-Save-A-304? I wondered what she was
doing; probably toasting some overly expensive wine with some Herb that
could probably back up into a building and suck a brick out with his
butt-cheeks. It was 11 o’clock and she still hadn’t called. I was too
bored so I decided to mess up someone else’s evening. I also thought to
myself, who better to mess with than Evan. I was going to make a move on
Evan and see what she would do. I knew she had to be attracted to me. I
was the only male in the city that she could identify with. We were both
very hard working, wealthy, early twenty-something black people. We got
along so well that we just couldn’t even see ourselves as anything other
than friends. Like Jerry Seinfeld said, if you have too good of a
conversation you can never have an uncomfortable pause. No uncomfortable
pause, no time to make a move. No moves no grooves, and well, before you
know it you are stuck in the friend-zone. But we were both guilty of
committing those “what-if” questions every once and a while. Evan was
fine as hell. Her booty was onion; known to make men weep. Her skin was
so flawless that I was longing to see her bra-less. Tonight might as
well be the night, I thought as I fired up a swisher sweet. I wanted to
be a little buzzed while I did this. It’s funny how you become a better
performer at just about everything other than algebra when you have a
little green in your system.
As I voice activated my Lexus SC 430
I sprayed my neck and wrists with Bentley cologne, then dialed her
number and told her I was coming to get her. She didn’t protest because
her date sucked just like my trunk did as it swallowed the roof of my
car. As I picked her up from the elegant dining quarters of Beniti’s I
proceeded to drive to her city home. She was slowly lulled to sleep as I
serenaded her with the Bobby Brown’s greatest hits CD. When we got to
her door the wine she drank had her half tipsy, but still coherent.
While my southern head knew this was what he needed, my northern head
knew that what might happen wasn’t necessarily kosher. I told her it was
late and asked if I could sleep in the guest bedroom. She obliged and
knocked herself out on top of the zebra skin comforter on her master
bed. I was still a little twisted off of the indo, so I raided her
refrigerator. As I downed chicken wings, potato chips and drank all of
her kool-aid (you know the flavor; red), I almost forgot what the
mission was. I had let Evan sleep for almost an hour, just enough for
her to be disoriented. I did this so that she would let her needs do the
decision making instead of her brain while I came on to her. Then, by
the time she realizes that she’s allowing me to make her feel like a
natural woman she tells herself that she might as well finish what she
started.
As I walked toward the bed I noticed
the slit of Evan’s dress opened, exposing the thickness of her caramel
thighs. By this time I was sitting on the bed but my man was standing. I
whispered in her ear, “Scoot over.”
“Huh,” she mumbled.
“I can’t sleep. Can I sleep with
you,” I said.
“Shut up,” she said, almost making me
feel like I might fail.
I took off my shirt, got down to my
boxers and slid under the covers after I tucked Evan in. As I snuggled
in close to her and put my arms around her waist, she arched her booty
into me. I had to say, she felt a whole lot better than I had imagined.
I noticed that she was still a little out of it so I decided to make my
move. I kissed her neck and waited for her to say something. Nothing. I
moved my hands to more or less massage her belly, and then I kissed her
neck again. She turned over to face me. Hell yeah, I thought. Now it was
time to take it up a notch. I slowly moved my hand to her hip, and then
just happened to slip my pinky along with the rest of my hand to her
seat softener.
“What you doing,” she whined.
“Nothing, sssshhhhh, chill,” I said
really sounding like a jackass, but she was half sleep so she couldn’t
just laugh at me. I kissed her on her forehead and waited. Nothing. I
kissed her on her nose. Nothing. I kissed her on the tip of her top lip.
“Boy stop,” she whispered with her
eyes clothes. I knew that was just the standard female, “no I don’t want
to” bull shit that girls say when they really want you to try a little
harder. I confidently kissed her and gently sucked on her bottom lip.
She kissed back. At this time my little soldier was at a full salute. I
kissed her again and pulled her closer to me so that our legs could
intertwine. By now she was kissing me back even more passionately than I
had planned. All the while I was thinking to myself; lets do this like
we always knew this. As I lifted her dress while kissing her neck, she
ran her fingers through my curly mulatto-bred hair. All of a sudden my
boxers were at my ankles and her dress was above her waist. I was about
to put it down like a soiled diaper, when all of a sudden the doorbell
rang. As Evan opened her eyes I continued to harass her body hoping that
she wouldn’t cease the heat just because some ass-hole of a visitor was
making the doorbell tweet.
“Oops, there goes my skirt,” she
exclaimed almost rhythmically as she rolled over and came to her senses
all the while making my soldier go back into the barracks. As she fixed
herself to go open the door, she looked back at me with a look insuring
the continuation this. Tonight just wouldn’t be the night. As I sat in
bed pissed off, I thought to myself that this visitor better have a damn
good reason for breaking up the dog and cat fight that was about to take
place. Our little visitor spoiled what could have been a momentous
occasion; oh well.
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