- Author
- 10/18/2017
- 1,366 Words
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- 17 Comments
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
The Night Before - 1. The Night Before
You looked ill. I could see the sickness reflected in your face when you woke up next to me on your queen size bed. There weren’t any words, just an urgent rush to the restroom. I laid there contemplating your reaction and thinking about the night before, staring at the ceiling and wondering how it got to this.
We met each other in that club. Liquor on our breaths, playful flirting. We danced, your hands on my ass and mine touching your face. My fingers brushed through your crew cut, jet black hair. You looked at me like I was the only one there. I told you I was studying at the university down the street. Your eyes lit up as though you were surprised. You told me you worked in an accounting firm and came to the club with friends. You made a point of saying you had your own room and that you wanted me all to yourself.
We poured out onto the streets, holding each other for dear life and laughing at our clumsiness. I mentioned that you’d be leaving your friends behind. You brushed it off without a second thought.
You hailed us a cab, fondled me in the back seat, and I couldn’t help noticing the driver glancing at us through the rear view mirror. I was self-conscious. You nibbling on my neck gave me goosebumps and chills. I giggled, avoiding the driver’s eyes.
You took us to your place, paid the driver, and led us inside your home: a two-story tan-colored home on the corner of 18th and Spruce. We went through the back door and I asked why not the front? You didn’t answer.
You shushed me as we came through the kitchen and we tiptoed inconspicuously to your bedroom. You paused with every squeak and shudder. Why the caution? No answer. You didn’t give many answers.
Your bedroom was filled with blue Christmas lights illuminating the room. Once you closed the door, you turned me around and stuck your tongue down my throat, removing my clothes. You dropped to the floor and blew me while I stood there above you. Your hand grabbed at my chest, and my head lifted towards the ceiling in ecstasy. Moans kept escaping me.
“Are all black guys this big?” You asked with a smile, while one of your hands held my cock. I laughed, but wished I hadn’t. You lifted yourself up and pushed me on the bed, continuing to go down on me. It didn’t take long before you pulled out the condom and lube. You removed your clothes, the blue lights in the background caressing your skin. I didn’t have to do anything as you got on top and led me inside you. A painful groan came from you at first, but then ecstasy quickly took hold of the two of us.
The sounds we made were no longer an issue. I let you take control. You knew exactly what to do as you rode me for all it was worth. I couldn’t stop looking at your face, your eyes closed tightly. Our climatic moment came, one of your hands on your cock and the other grabbing the bed sheets. My hands squeezed your thighs. We came at the same time, our breathing heavy. My hands caressed your skin, feeling the hair, the ridges, and bumps of imperfect skin. You looked at me then. You let out an unexpected laugh as you pulled yourself off me.
“What’s so funny?” I inquired.
“Its nothing,” you said quickly as you headed to the bathroom. I can’t remember what came after, only that I had passed out on your bed.
It’s morning now. A little hung over. You came back with a jacket and jeans on. Your face bore a tense frown.
“We have to go,” you said with an urgency in your voice. I lifted myself from the bed then and grabbed what I could find. When I told you I couldn’t find my socks, you told me to forget about them.
“We don’t have time,” you said curtly. Time for what, I wanted to say, but didn’t. I was used to not getting answers. I heard footsteps above us and I saw fear creep into your expression. It became clear that I wasn’t supposed to be here.
We headed to the bus stop in silence. I felt the balls of my feet brush against the bottom of my shoes and they burned with irritation. Gray clouds blanketed the sky. You had a hoodie and sunglasses on as if to block out what minimal sun was showing that day. We came to the stop and you looked at the time. You sucked your breath through your teeth.
“Your bus comes in thirty. Wanna wait here alone till it comes?”
My eyes wandered around, looking at my surroundings. This place wasn’t familiar.
“How come? Do you need to be somewhere?”
“I’m just tired. I barely got any sleep.”
I saw the tiredness of your eyes, but I was having a hard time understanding the coolness that came with them. The night before came to mind.
“Is there something wrong? You’ve been acting off.”
Your eyebrows arched under your sunglasses. You pulled them off and stuck them in the pocket of your jacket.
“Look, I’m tired alright? I don’t feel like being here.” After a long exhale of air, you then said, “Just so you know, this is the last time we can see each other.”
I jerked back in confusion. I stuttered, “Wh-what are you saying-”
“Can we drop this?”
I couldn’t read these feelings that seemed to come from this unknown place he wasn’t willing to expose to me.
“You can’t be serious,” I said.
I struggled to process a night that he tried desperately to forget. I held on so tightly to the good that came from being able to give each other pleasure that I didn’t recognize my own debasement. I secretly hoped it wasn’t the last time I would see him and I forgave him for his meanness.
I asked, “Can you tell me why?”
His response barely garnered much thought. “I don’t know where you’ve been or where you come from, but boys like me aren’t supposed to be with boys like you.”
“What do you mean ‘boys like me?’”
He shook his head. “When boys like me get with boys like you, its cuz there ain’t no one else to get with. All I saw were teens and crystal queens. The next best thing was a black. Don’t take it the wrong way! It’s the way things are around here.”
Around here? Try everywhere. The directness of his words had caught me off guard like he didn’t believe he was talking to a person. I felt split in two.
“Wait,” I said, making sure he was looking straight at my face. “How could we have done what we did when you feel the way that you do?”
Weren’t we exposing ourselves, body and soul, not six hours ago? Or was I fucking your double?
“What do you want me to say? Haven’t you seen “no blacks” on all the dating apps? It doesn’t take much thought to figure out that ya’ll aren’t the most desirable boys around. Don’t worry: you’re cute for a black boy. Someone will come around and be all that you need!”
As if him having sex with me was doing me a favor, as if it was the prize I had wanted all along, he gave me a ta-ta and walked on.
I stared at the bus sign in bewilderment, looked down the street. I finally sat on the bench, mulling over his words. I looked at my phone, then found the random number that had texted me the night before.
“Hey, here’s my number in case. It’s Jason btw,” it said. And I remembered his name again. As I sat there on the bench with his smell on my hands and his text on my phone, I shuddered at having endured his razor-sharp tongue. I grieved for what was lost. And I felt shame for wanting him back.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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