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Authors: Eric Jerome Dickey

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BOOK: The Blackbirds
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She closed her eyes, heard Vybz Kartel singing for her to ride it like a bicycle, heard the lyrics in her mind, and did a sweet whine, and showed Hakeem her femininity and versatility.

Hakeem told her he loved her, said it over and over, praised her mind with words as clear as moans, praised her ambitions, said he loved making love to her, told her he wanted her to be a part of his life, not only at night, but during the daytime as well, wanted this to become something real. She rode and trembled and he moaned without end and poured his heart out.

On the road to nirvana, she shuddered, told him, “You'd better not come yet.”

“Okay, okay.”

“Don't be weak. This is your castle. Be the king.”

“I'm the king.
I'm the muh-fuckin' king.”


Eddie
me like a king
eddies
a muh muh muh muh-
fuckin'
queen.”

Destiny didn't slow or relent her command when Hakeem tried to push her over, turn her so he could get on top, so he could take the dominant position.

She showed him how a jockey was supposed to ride.

Destiny stayed on top of Hakeem, and in the broken light, she saw his face, saw that look that said he was astounded. He gazed up and stared at her when she started to shudder, saw the ugliness that was so beautiful when her sisterlocks had come loose and framed her lust.

She moved up and down with her eyes closed.

She growled, moaned, and made the headboard attack the wall.

It sounded like he was on top of her giving it to her good.

She wanted Nancy to think that she was getting it from Hakeem as good as Nancy was getting it from Eddie. Female ego. Destiny leaned
forward, held Hakeem's hands, rode him as if he were her bitch and she were stroking him,
a woman like a man,
as if she were taking him.

She moved round and round, up and down, varied her rhythm, rocked him steady. She set free her passion, was set on fire by love, by hope, by her emotions.

She showed him that she was delicate, but at times did not want him to be delicate with her; showed him how she needed and wanted to be handled in bed. Slow, then with intensity. She wanted a long ride, not necessarily a marathon—she had too many obligations, too many things to do—but at least half of one from time to time. It would ease the stress in her life.

Destiny was on top of Hakeem, felt him lose some firmness, felt him become too flexible, and that frustrated her at a crucial moment. She needed the wood in order to keep feeling good.

She growled, “Don't go soft on me.”

“Okay.”

“Keep it hard.”

She sat up, rode him, closed her eyes, moved with the fire, scratched her itch, rose and fell. She danced. She danced the Dutty Wine, Pon de River, Row the Boat. She moaned and felt him inside her making her dance the Pepper Seed, Butterfly, and Bogle.

Destiny was loud. It was her turn to be loud. She didn't care who heard them. She wanted them to hear her. She was just as much woman as Nancy.

She could make her man feel as good as Nancy made Eddie feel.

Destiny rode Hakeem and he groaned and moaned for Jesus to save his soul.

He softened up again.

“Keep it hard, baby. Keep it hard a little longer. Just a little longer.”

Again Hakeem tried to turn her over, tried to flip her, maybe so he could take her doggie-style. Destiny leaned forward, held his hands down, rode him as if she were taking his virginity, sometimes subtle, most of the time with force. Hakeem called out, told Kismet he loved her.

“I'm coming, Hakeem. Shit, I'm coming. I'm coming so hard.”

“Me too, baby. Me too.”

“Push it. Push it. Give it to me, like that, like that, like that.”

Destiny danced, danced, moaned, and danced. Wayup, Gully Creep, and the Shampoo. She felt Hakeem do his best to keep up, but his best felt like he was under her dancing the Charleston, the Hustle, and the Electric Slide. Again she told him to stop moving.

She barked at him, told him to relax.

She had this.

She didn't need his help, only his erection.

She had moves a dance-hall queen would need three years to learn.

The headboard banged and banged and banged.

Hakeem's toes curled and he became the grunting Neanderthal.

When Destiny slowed, as sweat dripped from her and she stopped doing the Butterfly, as Hakeem panted and wheezed and softened inside her, when she fell away from him and finally caught her breath, there was silence. For the first time ever, they'd outlasted Eddie and Nancy.

Destiny felt like she had won the gold and a key to the city.

She hoped she had disturbed Nancy and Eddie as much as they had disturbed her.

Destiny felt as if she were being watched, looked toward the door.

The door wasn't closed all the way. It had been closed. Now it was cracked.

She saw Nancy watching her and Hakeem.

She saw Asian eyes blink rapidly, then back away.

Destiny smiled, hoped the nosey bitch learned how a real woman moved her ass.

Chapter 22

After Destiny and Hakeem had cleaned themselves, they cuddled.

In a moment of restlessness, Hakeem asked, “Kismet? You sleeping?”

“Wide awake.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Are you ever submissive?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You always have to be in control.”

“No, I don't.”

“I wanted to get on top. You always have to have it the way you want it.”

“I come better when I'm on top. I'm confused. I thought a man wanted a woman who knew how to work her ass and work his ass. I just came so hard on top. I guess I do lose control. When I'm like that and you're hard and I get at that angle, you rub my spot and that sends my head through the roof. I thought a man like you would want to make his woman come like that.”

“I like you on top. Maybe it's the way you do it, the way you take control and Eddie me.”

“The way I
Eddie
you? Are you saying I'm making you feel like Nancy?”

“I'm not sure what I'm saying.”

“Are you worried your boy and Nancy heard you moaning and think you're weak?”

“You're pretty aggressive at times. It's like a different you.”

“You want me to Nancy you. You want me to Nancy you the way Nancy
Nancies
Eddie.”

“She's become a verb too. Okay. What's the definition of Nancy as a verb?”

“You want me to cook, swallow, do anal, do the things Nancy does for Eddie.”

“It's not that. I don't want to be
Nancied,
just want to feel like I'm the man in this relationship. You hide me from your friends; you do shit a dude does when he's playing a chick. You come by late at night and are hard to reach in the daytime. I don't know where you live.”

“Have I done anything right?”

“You've done everything right.”

“Then what's the issue?”

“It's just I'm in love with you, Kismet, so things matter. I'm down with a woman being equal, but some of the ego needs to get checked at the bedroom door.”

“I work three jobs, hustle fire sticks, go to USC, and have a sick father, Hakeem.”

“Don't take it the wrong way, Kismet. I just want both of us to get what we need.”

“Okay. I'll work on a few things. I'm not trying to make you be less of a man, and I'm not trying to be a bedroom bully, but you think I'm stopping you from being one. I'll work on being more acquiescent. I'll Nancy you, only take control when you ask me to, at your request.”

“That's not what I mean.”

“No, you want submissive. I will pop a Valium and give you submissive.”

“I don't want you to become a mannequin.”

“I'm not a pillow queen. Sex feels good to me. I have to move. I can't control it.”

“That's for sure.”

“And I'm just getting to know my body. Despite how I move, sex is new to me. I was so aroused. I guess I've entered pon farr.”

“You did go Vulcan on a bro. That was feral sex. The way you made
the headboard tap out
War and Peace
in Morse code, damn, boo. That was freakin' awesome. Lord have mercy. Never had a woman ride me like that. Never.”

“I'm confused. Do you like making love with me or not?”

“Kismet, I'm just trying to speak up, keep the communication open.”

“Maybe this isn't working for you. Is that what you're trying to say?”

“I love it. You have bomb-ass wife pussy, Kismet. You have bomb-ass wife pussy.”

“Thanks for telling me how much you love my nonsubmissive poontang. Thanks for reducing all that I am to the act of sex, my importance as a being to one orifice.”

“I didn't mean to hurt your feelings.”

“I make love to you, Hakeem. I don't come here for booty-call sex.”

“I love you too, Kismet. That's what's most important. Sex is the bonus. What we do before we get in bed matters most. The way we dance and laugh, the way we enjoy one another's company is gold.”

“I guess I have some things to work on. That's all. I haven't been with as many guys as you have been with girls, and I have no idea what to do in a relationship, so I need the feedback.”

“Let me know when we can set up a meet-and-greet here for our families.”

“And we're going to have to find a word other than
pussy.
I hate that word. It reduces my existence. I want to make sure you see me as more than a hole surrounded by a sexy woman.”

“Maybe it would be better if you moved in with me. It's been on my mind. That's why I gave you a key. Hoped you'd move in at some point. I don't mean like right now, but eventually.”

“Are you joking?”

“I'd get to see you more and you wouldn't have to leave to go home to change.”

Destiny paused, anxious. “I'd need a ring before I moved in with you, Hakeem.”

“We'll talk about that too.”

“Are you serious?”

“I'm on a tight budget, but maybe we can go look around at the jewelry shops downtown.”

“Wow.”

“We should price some rings. Not buy, just see your size and what you like.”

“You are serious. So, are you . . . Do you want to take this to the next level?”

“I want you here with me every night, not just once or twice a week. This ass is perfect. This is a sweet mountain. I want to be able to climb the mountain at dusk, then again in the middle of the night, and once more at sunrise. I want to wake up and have breakfast with you.”

“You want me here so you will have access to sex?”

“I want to know you.”

“Well, I want access to sex.”

“Better for a woman to say that than a man. I say it, then I am a chauvinistic pig.”

“I want more sex, and I want to raise the bar.”

“I don't understand you. I don't understand women.”

“I know you want more than sex, Hakeem. You take me places, love taking me to dinner. You love dancing with me. I'm just not as available for the things we should be doing to keep this from just becoming me stopping by for a couple of hours. You're right. If I were here, then I would be here when I'm not working, would study at home when I could, would be here between jobs. Would be here for breakfast when you went to work. I could shower and get in bed with you after I left FedEx, or stay up and study. Would be here doing our laundry on weekends.”

“You like doing laundry?”

“I study while I do laundry, so, yeah. I would do our laundry together.”

“We could have quickies.”

“A lot of quickies.”

“We need to have that kind of quality time. Eddie and Nancy get to kick it a lot.”

“Eddie will have to Eddie Nancy and Nancy will have to Nancy Eddie elsewhere.”

“You're territorial.”

“I can't live in a frat house. I've already lived in a place that had no privacy.”

“The dorms?”

“Yeah, you could say I lived on campus in the dorms for a while. I don't need to hear people getting busy and chugging in the next room. I don't want to tiptoe around come stains to get water. I don't need people looking at me while they are naked, hoping that turns me on.”

“Eddie did something?”

“Nancy looks at me in a peculiar way.”

“She admires your body, your build, that Africa you carry.”

“She stares too long. And I know Eddie sneaks a peep. I need them out when I move in.”

“When would you move in, if we could make that happen?”

“After my birthday. Let's see where we are after my birthday.”

“Momma wants the house to herself.”

“If I do move in, if we get that sorted, Eddie and Nancy's presence is nonnegotiable.”

“So, you don't ever want them to kick it here?”

“I'm not coming between you and your buddy, but they will have to get their freak on elsewhere. Okay, time to time they can be here, but not every day, not every weekend.”

“Understood. We'll see how this goes.”

“I don't understand them. It's like looking at two stereotypes.”

“What do you mean?”

“What does she see in him? I would ask what he sees in her, but she has a vagina, and for a lot of men that's all they need a woman to have. I mean, she's a smart girl, and a smart girl like her, even if she wants a brother, she could get one just as fit and three times as educated.”

“Maybe she likes Eddie because she feels that much smarter around him.”

“She's too smart for Eddie.”

“Maybe Nancy has found something in Eddie that was missing in herself. And Eddie has found the type of girl who normally isn't attracted to a guy like him. She's smart, but he shows her some basic things that she's never been exposed to. It works for them, Kismet. Maybe both of them just like fucking, and that's enough to sustain their relationship. Maybe Nancy wants to have sex, but not with someone she would ever have to claim in public. If she goes back to the Asian boys, she doesn't have to ever mention the black guy she hooked up with. Same for Eddie.”

“I don't get it. Why let a man put his dick in you if it means nothing at all?”

“Don't hurt your brain trying to understand people by your personal standards.”

“I'm serious about them not being on the other side of that door moaning and chugging and slapping booties and whoo-hooing and booty loving all night long when I move in.”

“We can have the doors wide open then. Just you and me. I want what you want.”

Destiny took a deep breath, smiled. “This is a surprise, Hakeem.”

“I like to have my life organized, not in limbo. I need you here. I want to wake up with you. I want to start my day with you and end my day with you. That's what I want, Kismet.”

Destiny whispered, “I can be submissive. I can learn to Nancy my man.”

“Anal?”

“At some point. A couple of my friends do it; seem to like it a lot. We will see.”

“Chug?”

“You will have to put in the miles in order to earn those upgrades to premium class.”

“Bareback?”

“After I get on the pill, we can have the discussion again. That is not a promise.”

“Anything you need me to do to make this relationship better for you?”

“Dancing, movies, workouts, theater, concerts, dinners, skydiving, and beach volleyball.”

“You want to have fun.”

“Yeah, I want someone I can have fun with. I want to enjoy my life.”

He yawned. “I'll Eddie you better. I know you want it like Nancy gets it.”

“And I know you want it like Eddie gets to get it when he's getting it from Nancy.”

“Just work with me.”

Destiny yawned. “Okay. Work with me too. I am new at this. Haven't read the handbook.”

“Love you, Kismet.”

Hearing her sobriquet stopped her, pulled her out of the fantasy.

Hakeem yawned again, then whispered. “Who are you, Kismet? Who are you?”

“I'm the woman who loves you, Hakeem Mitchell. And because of that, I am afraid. We're talking about living together. We're making comments about ring shopping. This is scary. Babe, I need to tell you something. I need to tell you now, so I need you to listen to me. Don't hate me.”

He didn't reply.

She whispered, “Hakeem?”

His breathing had become heavy. Hakeem was off to dreamland.

She said, “My name isn't Kismet. My real name is Destiny. Destiny Jones.”

BOOK: The Blackbirds
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