Page 11
Story: Drill Session
Taking a deep breath, I took two big gulps of my drink. Batting my eye lashes at her, I glanced over my shoulder and nodded my head to the gentlemen she was seated with. They paid us no mind, as if we were strangers, just like most of us were to each other, however, I knew they were well acquainted, unless she got some hot potato ass pussy, but who I am to judge.
“Those men, are they with you?” I probed.
She gave me a sly grin and nodded her head. “Yeah, they’re father and son.”
My mouth gaped open in shock, then I got a good glimpse at them, noticing the similar features. Question swindled around my head. There were so many at a time that I knew if I spoke, I’d stutter my words, and the drink wasn’t the one to blame.
“Wait,” I chucked. “Father and son… so the three of y’all are together… like a polyamorous relationship?”
“Not quite… I fuck them from time to time… only when I come here though.”
“B-but you’re married,” I mentioned making her frown.
“Girl, I’m on the verge of a divorce. My husband is such an asshole to me, so I often come out here to let my hair down when I need a vacation. Deziel and Dezi take my mind off the hell I have to face when I go home back to my husband.”
“So, I take it that you’ve been married for a while, you look so young though, so youthful.”
“I’m thirty-three and I was forced into my marriage. I never wanted to marry him, but it was convenient, according to my father. Six years of my life wasted down the fucking drain,” she mentioned.
“I’ll drink to that,” we shared a laughed, then she grew quiet, like she was holding back on telling me something.
“I um… I wanted to say something without sounding creepy.”
“You sucked my nut out of my pussy,” I giggled. “We’re past the stage, don’t ya think.”
“Maybe you’re right.” She tilted her head and placed her hand on the cusp of my chin and bore her eyes into mine. I couldn’t withstand heat brewing between us, so I playfully slapped her hand away.
“Last night, I saw you and Drill on the beach. I was going for a walk, and I saw him fucking you.”
“Did you like what you saw,” I tittered.
“Akira,” she shook her head and looked off into space, before looking back at me. “The way that man loves your body is different.”
Taking another sip of my breath, the heat settled, and my curiosity took the stand. “What do you mean?”
“It’s like he studies your body and makes it his number one priority to make you cum. He knows all of your spots and he takes his time. He doesn’t rush his nut he actually takes his time with you. That shit was beautiful to watch.”
“Sounds like you did more studying than watching.”
“I love sex… I love the anatomy of it all, it’s more than the pleasure of it all. That’s what I had to teach them,” she nodded her head at her men. “Your body can know you want a person, but you heart has to feel it too, that’s where our sexual urges start from, not just the fatal attraction, but our hearts send signals to our minds first. That’s what people don’t like to decipher. Energy is transfused through each lick and suck.”
“So, what’re you saying?”
“I’m saying that Drill loves you. He loves you with all of his human being.”
My heart plummeted because if she could see it, then why can’t I? Part of me wanted to believe that she was right. People can see love, but if he’s the one giving it to me then why can’t I feel it. I don’t think I’m asking for too much, but I also yearn for Drill to put my heart on a pedestal the same way he does my body. I crave for him to look at my heart with those lust filled eyes the same way he does my body when I’m naked and my flesh is exposed. It’s the little things I like that he doesn’t love, and I’m supposed to wait for that? Believing and seeing are two different things and I shouldn’t be opposed to be making excuses for him, and he shouldn’t fool me into eating bullshit just because it’s served on a silver platter.
Choosing the latter, I took a deep breath and grabbed my phone from the counter, unblocked his number and texted him.
Just give me space right now.
The Week After
Feb. 10 th
“Can you rub my feet one more time, please?” I asked Jalisa with a pout.
Snuggling under my blanket on the couch, I placed my feet in her lap again and she rolled her eyes. I could feel the annoyance seething from her pores and the smoke coming out of her ears. For the past few days, she’s been my cuddle buddy, running errands with me, rubbing my feet after long hours at work and eating dinner with me—doing all the shit Drill and I used to do before he started smelling himself. Jalisa had no problem playing his spot and listening to me vent about the same shit over and over. If she wasn’t at my house, I was at hers invading the privacy between her and Lucky. This “breakup” was detrimental for me, and I don’t care who didn’t view things from my point of view.
Our last night in Lover’s Island we stayed distant, mainly me, for the most part. Drill would say little shit here and there, but I chose to give the silent treatment to avoid saying something out of pocket and bursting into tears. It killed me on the inside to act that way towards him, but I only have myself to blame. Vulnerability wrecked me and I fell flat on my face for vowing my feelings to him, playing the pity of a fool, willing to wait for him to reciprocate his too. To be petty, I booked me an early flight and took off. Had I felt in my gut this would happen, I’d kept my distance and stayed out of my head, but the vibe felt so serene, and he was saying and doing all the right things, making me swoon to him. He’d been trying to reach out, but every number he texted or called me from, I blocked. I also blocked every fake social media page and reported them as spam. Pissed to the third degree is a better way to describe my mood. I’m so heated, I can chew on a fucking brick right now.
“Akira this shit between you and Drill is aggravating. All you do is talk shit about the damn nigga and stalk his Instagram account from my page. You ain’t trying to fool nobody but yourself,” she responded with an attitude and moved my feet from out of her lap. “Get these crusty ass feet off my pants suit. This just touched down from Neiman Marcus and you know how I am about my good clothes. Plus, I don’t have any more clothes here. I’m sexually frustrated and I can’t eat your pussy. I need to go home for a minute and soak in my tub,” she extended her arms to stretch them.
I playfully kicked her on the leg and adjusted myself on the other end of the couch. The night I had planned for us was to watch reruns of A Different World , no matter how many times we’ve seen the episodes and knew them word for word, this was a comfort show for me. Having her here made me feel better in more ways than her stubborn ass wants to admit right now. She kept me levelheaded from going crazy when I felt like spazzing out.
“So, what you’re saying is that you don’t want to be here with me, you’d rather be with some police ass nigga? I met you first. You were my friend first.” I replied before scooping a spoonful of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream in my mouth.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying with your smart mouth ass.” She stood up from the couch and wiped the invisible crust and crumbs off her pants. “I need to get fucked.”
“You sound possessed,” I tittered.
“Just give me a few days and I’ll be back,” she changed her tone softer. Nonetheless, I still felt some type of way.
I thought about calling Lira, but with her hectic schedule she wouldn’t have the time to come over here and babysit me.
“Whatever,” I waved her off and continued watching my show.
It didn’t take her long to pack the rest of her things, because she was living out of her Glam--Aholic suitcase and never unpacked majority of her things. Most of her attire consisted of sleeping clothes and shit to lounge around in the house in. Like me, she took a mini vacay, because the housing market was bound to crash soon, and her messages would be flooding with new clients and old ones seeking new ventures or thinking of ways to expand their properties. Jalisa is the best damn relator in the tri-state area, so she needed a vacation to take the load off.
“Let me walk you to the door,” I told her, as I waited for her at the end of the stairs.
“Wipe that frown off your face, I told you I’ll be back,” she giggled at my antics.
“Ain’t nobody frowning, if you’re tired of being here then just say that. I won’t hold it against you,” I joked with her.
“Bitch quit acting like you can’t call me. We don’t stay far from each other.”
Once she reached the last step, she rolled the suitcase on the hard wood and trotted her way to the door. The weather was still chilly, and the weather man predicted it’ll get colder as the days went on, so I clutched my robe tighter around the nape of my neck as I walked her to the car.
“Do you have everything, because you if left something I’m not bringing it to you.” I spoke as I watched her toss her luggage in the back seat of her Lexus RX Hybrid.
She swung her long 22inch tresses over her shoulder and rolled her eyes at my remark. “Bitch you’re doing exactly what you think you ain’t doing if I forget something. The way you’ve been holding me hostage all damn week, I need a hard drink. All that damn crying and bitchin’. You better call Lira next time and we can rotate.”
With a decisive click, the back door shut then she opened the driver's side door and slid into the seat. I leaned against her car, and she rolled down the window.
“Lucky knows when shit like this happens, we have to share you. I stood right there behind you and watched you say those vows. Let’s not forget the hell you put me through, in college,” I teased her. With a loud cackle, she flung her head against the head rest because she knew I was telling the truth. Lucky and Jalisa were like oil and water in college, and I always played the middleman in the midst of their drama. Now she was returning the favor.
“See, that’s just like an ‘ole grimy ass bitch, to bring up some old shit.” We shared a heartfelt laugh, before I backed up so she could back out of my driveway.
“Call me when you make it home!” I yelled out after her.
When her car disappeared down the street, I trekked back inside the house and locked the door after me and set my alarm. For a good Friday night, I was in the house, posing as a homebody. =I’m much more relaxed and chilled. I’d settled over munching on a bowl of popcorn, watching reruns of The Parkers while sipping on a nice glass of red wine.
Sometimes, I get a little lonely, but before Drill, I was used to the other side of the bed feeling chilly at night, so I became accustomed to the single life and doing single shit. Most of my life surrounds me and I don’t have to dial in to a nigga about dinner plans or having to check in about my whereabouts and coming home late. Drill made me fall hard for him and I was ready to risk those minor lifestyle changes for him, all for love. Only for him to sweep those moments from under my feet and bury the hatchet, leaving me nothing to feed off of but my emotions. I gave him my body and I don’t regret it not one bit, but I didn’t expect to fall for him so drastically. The night before Christmas, I vaguely remember asking him, with a heavy heart and a soaking wet pussy, “What if one of us catches feelings?” and his answer was simple, “Then if that’s the case we’ll revisit this conversation. You don’t have to worry about me hurtin’ you, Princess.” But he did the opposite, he fucking hurt me. His cocky ass, nonchalant attitude was a turn on with him using it against me as an armor, I hate it now, and I hate him more.
I grabbed the bowl of ice cream off the kitchen counter and placed it in the sink. My kitchen was kept spotless, and I hated going to bed with a sink full of dirty ass dishes, despite it not being a lot right now, I still filled the sink with bleach and hot water so I could wash them before going to bed. Besides crying and sobbing over Drill, today drained the fuck out of me. I wanted to soak in the tub and wash all this hurt off me if that was possible. Come Monday, I’ll be back at work, teaching my students, doing what I love and while I did enjoy the getaway, nothing beats coming back to school and seeing my babies cute faces.
Once I washed the dishes, I made sure to wipe off the counters and turn off the kitchen light before exiting it, then I headed upstairs and called it a night. All day, I’ve been walking around wearing a moo moo from Walmart. It was decorated in hearts and the mixed matched socks on my feet made me look throwed away. My hair was in a messy bun, wrapped up with a scrunchy. I felt the coolness from the hardwood floors through my fuzzy.
Ding Dong!
The doorbell chimed making me raise my brows inquisitively before walking over to the door. I knew it was Jalisa’s forgetful ass, so I didn’t bother looking through the blinds to see who it was. The Vivient security camera system made me feel protected and whenever someone was at my door, my phone alerted me first, but the camera was on the kitchen counter and the other one was in my bedroom on the nightstand.
I talked my shit as I opened the door, after walking downstairs. “I knew you’d forget?—"
Musky cologne evaded my nostrils, and my heart sank to my ass. His brooding expression met my eyes first, but his third leg caught my attention immediately after. It was sitting nicely in the gray sweatpants resting on his thigh, minding its business. When our eyes met, my knees buckled and I wanted to fall into his arms and smash my head against his chest, just so he could drape his strong arms around me and caress me. He looked so fucking good, even dressed in some simple attire. The black pullover fit snug on him, but not too snug, only enough that his muscles were on display if he flexed him. His herculean shoulders were broad under the pullover putting any nigga to shame who thought they looked good in one. The black Nike Air Force ones looked clean and not all bent up. He told me once before that Air Force Ones aren’t good anymore after three wears. To me, theory wasn’t that serious to test it, but Drill had an impeccable shoe game, and I never caught him wearing the same pair of shoes more than once. The VVS diamond studs in his ears matched the custom bottom VVS diamond grill in his mouth. When he tilted his head to look down at me, his hair peeked under the hood. I knew he’d just the barbershop because the line up was fresh and crisp. He hated when his beard grew out because he said it made him look rough, so to keep a polished look he got his hair cut every week—every Saturday to be exact.
“You gone let me in or what Princess,” he muttered.
He was good and high. The corner of his eyes was blood shot red.
I crossed my arms over my breasts and rolled my neck. “For what? Don’t nothing in this house belong to you.”
He did a sly grin and poked me in the stomach. “Akira, stop fucking playin’ with me girl.”
Standing my guard, I repositioned myself and poked my hip out. “Do I look like a joke to you? Why would I be playin’ Martavious and why are you here?”
“You know why the fuck I’m here,” he mocked me, mimicking my tone. “I texted you and told you I’m coming to get my gym bag. I’ve been meaning to come by and pick it up.”
“You’re blocked. I haven’t been getting your texts.”
“Fuck I look like boo boo the fucking fool? I know my way around the system. I been sending my shit as a text message, you can still get SMS messages bruh,” he glowered.
Drill was right, I was still getting his text messages, but I wasn’t responding to them.
“It’s rude to show up unannounced at someone’s house,” I stepped aside so he could enter and closed the door after him. “You need to hurry up and leave because I’m expecting company tonight,” I lied.
He chortled and staggered to the garage where his gym bag was. “Yeah, ‘ight,” I heard him mutter.
Instead of following him, I sat on the living room couch with my blanket and wrapped it around me and pretended to engross my attention in my phone, switching between apps I had no interest in right now.
“It’s cold as fuck outside and you want to play around and shit.” He appeared back in the living room, invading my space, permeating his presence, walking with a big dick limp, like it was heavy and weighing him down. His Nike gym tote bag was in tow, draped over his broad shoulder. Drill staggered over to me and stood in front of me. Glancing past my iPhone, his shoes appeared into view, triggering my annoyance.
“What nigga bold enough to come over here, knowing you fuckin’ with America’s Most Wanted?” My eyes peered up to see that sexy ass cocky smirk.
“The kind that’ll shake the boat if he has to,” I lied.
He grinned and pinched the bridge of his nose. In one swift motion, I exhaled, releasing a deep breath as he wrapped his hand around my neck and applied gentle force with a menacing scowl graced his handsome face.
“I done showed the last nigga I’m treacherous and the peon ass nigga before that. I’m sure word got around that he fumbled the ball, no pun intended, when it came to you. Fuck I look like runnin’ from a nigga when you got a track record of fuckin’ with simp ass niggas anyway,” he grimaced.
“I really fucking hate you,” I spat, without an ounce of regret.
He bent down, the tote bag still draped around his other arm. The tip of his nose touched mine and when he parted his suckable lips to speak, I smelled the double mint chewing gum permeating on his tongue.
With a sarcastic chuckle, he responded, “You hate me, Princess?”
“Yes,” I muttered on the verge of tears. I didn’t want to bitch up, but my voice cracking gave me imposing a tough demeanor gave it away.
“You don’t fuckin’ hate me Akira,” he spoke coyly. “You love me. You love the fuck out of me bae.”
His deep voice sent chills down my spine. I didn’t have to open my legs, spread my lips apart and swipe my middle finger across my pink pussy to know that I was wet. Drill could smile at me with a wink and my pussy would flood. I allowed him to control my body and mind unintentionally. Things were supposed to be simple and just that quick, in rapid speed, shit over flowed and he became the man I looked forward to talking to when I dart my eyes open in the morning. The man I call to tell him about my day; nag about how the barista’s at Starbucks forget to double blend my caramel Frappuccino; when my house keeper cleans my home on weekends, she sprays this stanky ass homemade spray that lingers in my house for days; when I order fries from McDonalds and I order fries with no salt, they still put salt in them instead of giving me a fresh batch. Drill had become a part of my daily living, and I didn’t want to lose that, I’d be crushed.
When I blinked, the tears I fought hard to conceal, cascaded down my cheeks and he used the tip of thumb to wipe them away. The cocky smirk disappeared, and concern etched on his face now. A deep V appeared between his bushy eyes brows before he asked me, “What’s wrong?”
“You did it anyway Drill,” I spoke barely above whisper.
He took a deep breath sensing my seriousness becoming evident, given the situation that lied between is. “Did what? Am I the reason for these tears?”
“You’re the reason for them every night. You hurt me Drill,” my voice croaked, and I crumbled in his arms.
To keep me from falling he sat down behind me and wrapped his arms around my body. The feel of his hand soothed my aching pain as he rubbed my back gently up and down. I was melting before him, seeming broken and fragile about all of this.
“You hurting me knowing I’m the cause of your tears like this. You know I’m only used to you crying when I deep stroke you too deep.”
“And that’s the fucking problem, Drill,” I snapped. “That’s the fucking problem right there!”
I scooted away from him and stood up. We traded places, now he was the fool.
“I gave you my body because that’s what you were after. You pursued my body not my heart and that’s where the lines become blurred!”
My emotions were getting the best of me. I probably looked like a fucking mad woman to him. He was looking stupid as fuck, sitting down, with sad puppy dog eyes. To keep from hitting him, because I wasn’t bold enough to do that, I lunged one of the pillows off the couch at his head. My aim was impeccable, but he dodged it.
“You told me to give you some fucking space, so I did,” he said to his defense. “I stopped blowin’ yo shit up when I realized you weren’t going to respond to me. I’m only doing shit you asked me to do Akira.”
I folded my arms over my breasts and cocked my neck. “Did you forget how we got here in the beginning? I confessed how I felt about you and you let my feelings float in the air, but –”
I backed up when that menacing glare appeared back in his face.
“Don’t fucking insult me bruh, fuck you backing up for, like I put my hands on you and shit!” He spat. “I didn’t dismiss your feelings I told you what my flaw is and you were okay with it. I ain’t forcing you to do shit you don’t want to do.”
“THEN WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU HERE!” I stood up on my tip toes and yelled with rage.
He reached down and thumped me across the forehead. “To get my fuckin’ gym bag. Did you fucking forget?”
Rubbing my temples, I released an exasperated sigh and chose to walk away from him.
“Bae,” he called out to me then grabbed my arm to pull me into an embrace. His hugs are my safe space. “I wanted to see you, that’s why I pulled up. Is that what you want to hear?” he admitted. “You know just like I know, I don’t give a fuck about that gym bag. I pulled up because I wanted to see yo fine ass. A nigga been missing you like crazy. I miss seeing your pretty ass smile, waking up in the middle of the night from you snacking on junk food you like to hide from me, rubbing on your stomach and kissing on you. I miss being in your skin baby. Dry your face.”
His body was so magnetic. The strong force pulled me into him, despite me pulling back. He was my weak spot now.
“If you wanted to see me then why’d you get all dressed up?”
“Derrick told me to pull up at Fox and Hound with him and some young niggas. Your spot was on the way there,” he let me know.
“So are you about to leave?”
I lifted my head up and our eyes met. “Do you want me to stay? Do you still want your space?”
“I let you in didn’t I,” I replied sarcastically.
“Underneath all those layers, you’re soft as a cushion,” his hands snaked down to my ass. I felt him lift up my nightgown and grip it. “You was mean as fuck when I met you girl. I done peeled you back and got you in the palm of my hand.”
“Just like I’m wrapped around your finger,” I boasted too.
Silence fell between us. A steady, warm breeze from the air conditioner was the only sound breaking the silence. His chin rested on the top of my head, while one hand caressed my booty, and the other arm stayed wrapped around my body. This felt like home… Drill felt like home. I didn’t want this with no one else and I couldn’t fathom it.
“You have to teach me,” he spoke up. His deep baritone sliced the silence like a knife.
“Teach you what?” I asked questionably.
“How to love you,” he murmured then cleared his throat. “Teach me how to love you.”
“Are you willing to learn?”
“Akira,” he let my ass go and placed it under my chin, gripping the cusp of it gently. “The first step a man has a take is accountability. I don’t need to be healed. That part has been covered already. I've made many mistakes in my life, some of which haunt me to this day, and I've made so many terrible decisions that I regret. I've been granted countless second chances by God, only to let each one slip through my fingers. I can’t you slip through my fingers, baby.”
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach at his statement. I deserve an undeniable love. My dating life was wrecked and filled with the disgust of kissing frogs to get my prince. Drill was my prince. He was the man God placed in my life. It doesn’t have to be perfect but making it worth it is all I ask for in the end, when it’s all said and done.