august 1998
saturday
6:45 pm
"Hurry up, Nay!" Lisa banged on the bathroom door.
"Hold up! I'm almost done!" I was nearing the end of shaving.
"You need to be tryin' to pick an outfit. You know it takes you like two hours to decide on one," she called from behind the door.
"I know," I had about three more strokes left before finishing.
"You want me to pull out some stuff so you can get a head start?"
"That'd be great," I replied.
Within minutes, I was nice, smooth, and moisturized, and I couldn't help but run my hands along my legs for several moments.
Once I was satisfied, I stood and made my way into my room, where Lisa was standing in my closet, throwing dresses over her shoulder and onto my bed.
I put on my deodorant and unwrapped myself from my towel and put on matching lingerie. I began going through the dresses, putting them against my body as I stood in the mirror.
"Should I go dark or bold?" I inquired.
"Dark. You already caught his attention with a bold color, in a club. Y'all are goin' to dinner so you might wanna tone it down a lil'," she replied.
"You're right," I nodded before grabbing another dress.
"Shorty swing my wayyy. Sure look good to me. Now, would you pleaseee swing my way. Shorty swing my way," Lisa sung and danced a bit.
"If I wasn't so cut for time, I'd be kicking you out of my room for teasing me," I shook my head.
By the time it was 7:30, I had finally decided on an outfit and was going through my shoes.
After ten minutes, I had my heels picked out and proceeded to do my makeup. With only five minutes to spare before Swing would be here, I put on my perfume and stuffed a bag with clothes and necessities.
"Guess I won't be seeing you until tomorrow," Lisa leaned against my room's doorframe.
"If everything goes well," I reminded her.
"Mhm," she smirked.
"Thanks for all your help, Muffin," I smiled and gave her a hug.
"It's nothin'," she hugged me back.
The doorbell rang, and I glanced at the clock.
7:59 pm
I shook my head with a smirk before zipping up my bag and making my way toward the front door.
"I love you," she said as we hugged again.
"I love you too," I smiled.
"Don't forget to put it on him, Nay Nay," she giggled as I walked to the door.
"Girl, you are crazy," I shook my head while unlocking the door.
"I'm serious, Renée. When you saddle up, you better ride that d-- Hey, Swing," she changed her train of thought as I opened the door, unveiling my date for the night.
"What's up?" he nodded to her in greeting.
"I see you've got your bag," he smirked at me.
"I see you're on time," my head tilted to the side a bit.
He brought his hands from behind his back, presenting a single, long stemmed red rose.
"For you," he smiled, that charm oozing from him like sweat.
"Thank you," I blushed, taking the rose.
He took my bag into his hold and took my unoccupied hand into his.
"Bye, guys! Nay, remember what I said!" Lisa called after us as we walked to his Jeep.
I chuckled and shook my head as he opened the door for me.
I got into the passenger seat before he closed the door behind me. He put my bag on the backseat before getting behind the wheel. I watched Lisa wave from the door as he pulled out of the driveway.
"So, where are we having dinner?" I asked.
"My place," he replied.
"You know how to cook?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Why is that such a surprise?" he chuckled.
"You don't seem like the type," I ran my fingers through my box braids.
"What's my type, shorty?" he glanced over at me, another pair of midnight colored shades shielding his eyes.
I sized him up a bit, taking in his all black appearance and gold chain and watch.
"Chinese take out at the crib," I answered, and he laughed in response.
"A'ight. You got me," he nodded, making me smile.
"So, why'd you decide to switch it up?" I asked.
"I wanna' impress you," he came to a red light.
"You wanna' impress me?" my eyebrow raised again.
"Did I stutter, Renée?" he glanced over, authority coating his voice.
"Now, why would you want to impress lil' ole me?" I smirked.
"I think you're pretty fly, and. . . you've been on my mind like crazy," he shook his head, turning his gaze back to the road as he gripped onto the steering wheel.
I was more than relieved that the feelings were mutual. I felt like some sort of madwoman, having this nigga circulate my mind everyday for two weeks. I felt even crazier reliving the kiss we had at my car for nearly as long.
"Me too," I softly replied with a small smile.
He drove up to his home, which sat in a majority white neighborhood and looked kinda' like those modern houses you see in the movies.
"Damn, what do you do for a living?" my face scrunched up.
"Don't worry about it," he bit his lip before taking the keys from his ignition and grabbing my bag from the backseat.
He opened my door and took my hand as I stepped down from his truck. He led me into his home after locking his truck.
"Make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back," he said before going upstairs with my bag in hand.
I paced his living room, admiring the white and black theme along with the artwork and framed pictures on walls and shelves.
Shortly after, he jogged back downstairs and insisted that I have a seat.
He went into the kitchen as I sat down on one of the leather couches. I was growing more and more anxious the longer I sat there. I wasn't worried about dinner at all, just as long as the conversation wasn't dead, but it had been a while since I've. . . you know.
I just wanted to get this shit crackin', but I also didn't want to come off as too eager. So, I remained seated and pushed back thoughts of what would be taking place in about an hour. Instead, I thought about how good that food was smelling.
I stood and slowly made my way toward the kitchen. I cracked open the door, seeing him add some finishing touches to the plates of alfredo before pouring us white wine.
"You might as well come in and sit down," he spoke.
"How'd you know I was standing here?" I cracked a smile, walking in completely and letting the door close behind me.
"I can feel when you're near me, shorty," his hazel eyes met mine.
"Yeah, right, Swing," I rolled my eyes, my smile stuck on my face.
"Please. . . Call me DeAndré," he insisted, and I internally swooned at the sight of his boyish smile.
He pulled out a stool for me before I sat down. He sat next to me, on the side that completed my corner of the island.
"So, what do you do for a living?" he inquired.
"You want my answer when I can't have yours?" I raised an eyebrow.
He chortled while glancing at his plate.
"I'm a crime scene cleaner," he answered.
"You're kidding, right?" my jaw dropped.
He shook his head and chuckled.
"How do you handle that?" I cringed before taking a fork full of pasta and placing it on my tongue.
"A strong stomach, baby," he smirked, his eyes on my lips as I chewed.
"It couldn't be me," I mumbled while shaking my head.
"So, what do you do for a living?" he asked.
"I'm a nurse," I replied after swallowing my food.
His eyebrows raised with an "word?"
"Yeah," I answered before sipping my wine.
"So, you've had to have seen some crazy shit too," he shook his head.
"Yeah, but nothin' like mutilated bodies and brains on a wall," I replied.
"Wow, do you usually talk about shit like this during dinner?" he asked before slurping some noodles off of his fork.
"You've got a strong stomach. You'll be fine," I waved him off, making him laugh.
"I love a woman that can make me laugh. You know that?" his eyes pierced through my pupils.
Staring into his eyes made me feel like I was unfolding right before him. Like he was peeling back layers of who I was with every few seconds.
"I almost said something so inappropriate," I smirked, glancing down at my plate to avoid his gaze.
"What were you gonna' say? You love a man that can make you cum?" he bit his lip.
"You gotta be psychic," I shook my head with a smile, making him smirk.
"Maybe I am. Maybe I'm not," he shrugged.
We conversed over dinner for quite a while longer, and once we were done with our plates, we moved back to his living room, where he turned on his stereo and set the mood with the music and the wine we brought from the kitchen.
My heart was beating out of my chest as he scooted closer toward me, on his couch.
"What'chu doin' over there?" he bit his lip, his hand on my thigh as he moved closer.
"Don't act all scared of me now."
"I ain't scared of you, boy," I nervously chuckled.
"You're so good at frontin', like it's a sport," he leaned closer to me, his cologne beginning to trap my nostrils.
"I like the chase," I smirked.
"You seem like the type," he whispered, his hand moving up my thigh.
I giggled as his eyes drifted to my body a bit.
"You look fine as hell tonight. I hope I told you that. . . I hope you plan on keepin' them pumps on too," his plump lips finally met my neck.
My legs opened a little wider as his hand began to caress my inner thigh. I giggled as he lightly bit and sucked on my neck. My eyes had fluttered closed while my hand rested against the nape of his neck.
I turned my body toward him a bit, resulting in the inevitable meeting of our lips. I could suck on his lips all day, and I bet he knew it. Desire was spiking higher and higher by the minute, and I was no longer down with tryin' not to come off eager. I was, and I could no longer hold myself.
I gripped onto his shirt and moved to where my legs were on either side of him. Our lips were smacking and our tongues were fighting by the time I had closed the space between us.
I lifted my hips to meet his as he finally caught my drift and pulled his shirt off, unveiling a few tattoos on his caramel skin.
I bit my bottom lip at the sight of his toned body. After a moment of basking in him, I sat up and left steamy, tender kisses on his neck. It didn't take long before I found his hot spot, which resulted in a low groan. I smiled slightly, sucking on that spot for a little while longer. I found myself pushing him back onto the couch and straddling his lap.
"It's called initiative. Maybe you should take some," I whispered, making him chuckle low, the bass of his voice being felt in my chest.
"You seem to be doing a pretty good job, shorty," he gripped my hips as I felt his tent beneath me.
"I always do a good job, D," I nibbled on his earlobe while grinding on him slowly.
He groaned lowly, his hands steadily moving up my back, and before I could count to ten, my dress was unzipped and the straps of it were being slid off of my arms. I pulled back to slide my arms from the dress but before I could, his lips had returned to my neck and were moving toward my chest.
"DeAndré," I whispered, my voice a little shaky.
He pulled me closer to him, his strong arms wrapping around my waist. I was just about to suggest that we move upstairs, but he said it before I could even muster up the words.
I nodded in agreement before getting from on top of him. I stood, my dress finally hitting the floor as his eyes watched it do so. Slowly, his eyes moved up my body as a smirk pushed itself onto his face.
"Cute," he mumbled, his finger sliding up the side of my thigh and hooking itself into the waistband of my lace panties.
"Okay, you gon' sit there and look or are we moving?" I smacked his hand away.
His smirk grew wider before he stood, towering over me by a couple of inches. He was dripping sex appeal, licking his lips and staring into my eyes with lust and amusement in his. His hands found my hips before he pulled me closer. With that, they moved to my thighs and before I realized what he was doing, he had my legs wrapped around him, and pretty soon our tongues were wrapping around each other as well.
As he climbed the stairs, my bra became unhooked and was left on the stairs. Once at the top of those stairs, he kicked off his boots.
My head was spinning as his soft pillows returned to my neck. I moaned softly in anticipation, my fingers running over his hair before my back finally met a soft wall. My eyes opened to find myself laying on red, silk sheets, and I realized this due to the mirror he had on the ceiling.
Typical.
"You want music in here too?" he asked, pulling away from me.
"Yeah," I replied, my eyes still stuck on myself.
I should invest in red silk sheets because I was lookin' like the ultimate chocolate playboy bunny right now. I'm talkin' centerfold status.
I eventually pulled away from the reflection by sitting up on my elbows.
"I thought you were known for movin' fast," I sighed, as music softly played.
He smiled at me through his dresser mirror.
"Don't listen to everything you hear, sweetheart," he replied, taking off his watch and chain.
I rolled my eyes before standing up.
"You like chocolate or whipped cream?" he asked.
"Whipped cream," I ran my fingers through my braids while slowly approaching him.
He chuckled.
"What? I seem like the type, right?" I smirked.
"Yeah. . . You're psychic too, huh?" he smiled at me as I wrapped my arms around him.
I laughed lightly.
"Go lay back down. I'll be over there in a second," he nodded as I gazed up at him.
"Promise?" I smirked, leaving a kiss to his shoulder.
"Would I lie to you, shorty?" his eyebrow raised.
I brought my arms from around him and sashayed back toward the bed because I knew he'd be looking. I slid onto the bed, my ass up and stomach flat on the bed before flipping over onto my back sensually.
I caught his gaze in the mirror and smiled innocently. He shook his head as I giggled.
I relaxed, closing my eyes and waiting until I felt the bed dip with his body weight. However, after several moments, I felt a cold substance running across my chest instead of what was expected.
I shrieked, opening my eyes to find him laughing. I glanced at the ceiling to find that he had coated me with whipped cream.
"Give me that," I reached for the can.
"What's wrong, Nay Nay? I thought you liked whipped cream," he pushed me back down so I was laying how I was originally.
"Not when you puttin' it on me when I least expect--"
I couldn't help the moan that fell out of my mouth as his warm tongue trailed the cream.
"Is that better?" he asked once the cream had disappeared from his tongue.
I nodded before placing my hand on the nape of his neck and pulling his lips to mine.
I kissed him ravenously, my hands unbuckling his belt and jeans.
He got from on top of me and stepped out of his baggy jeans before dividing my thighs and kneeling on the bed between them. The cold dessert topping ran down my body and even up my inner thighs.
I was shaking with anticipation as he licked and kissed everywhere but where I needed the most attention.
"DeAndré," I whined.
I could feel him smiling as he kissed along my thighs.
His fingers hooked themselves in the waistband of my black laced panties as I sat there panting like a dog.
Butterflies had ransacked my insides as he slowly slid the only cloth separating us from my legs. Once they hit the floor, he dove in. I gripped fistfuls of red silk as he devoured me. Sounds and words were falling out of my mouth without a thought to what they were. The pleasure was becoming nearly unbearable as he kissed, licked, sucked, and pumped, leaving me to drip like a faucet. I could feel my peak drawing closer and closer as my back lifted from the bed. His arms hooked onto my thighs to keep me from running, probably because he knew that's what I was about to do.
Before I could even think about warning him of my peak being reached, I was already there: on cloud ninety-eight.
After a few moments, he was hovering over me, his hands planted on the bed, on either side of my face.
"I'm Daddy now?" he smirked, obviously questioning something I said.
"I can't tell you what I was saying, honestly," I pecked his lips as my hands locked behind his neck.
He chuckled as I began kissing his neck.
"I wouldn't expect you to. You was speakin' in tongues half the time," he smiled, making me laugh.
"Whatever, Swing," I mumbled, kissing against his tattoos before he rolled onto his back, switching our places.
Before long, my limbs had been twined around him once more, and I could feel lust pulsating through both of us. It was the driving force behind his pounding and probably the only thing that he could make out of my incoherent moans.
I hadn't become so undone so quickly, so hard since. . . ever, really. We found ourselves clinging onto each other tightly and kissing until the sparks had died.
His lower body pulled away from me yet his arms kept my body against his as he lied next to me. I caught us in the ceiling mirror, tangled in silk, tangled in each other.
I closed my eyes, taking time to slow my racing heart. After several minutes, I was on my way to sleep but his pager kept goin' off.
He reached over me, toward his nightstand. After a few seconds, he said, "I gotta' go."
I glanced at the time, finding that it was almost three in the morning.
"Oh.. okay," I sat up and began to get up from his bed.
"Wait, shorty. You ain't gotta go," he grabbed my hand.
"But--"
"My job needs me. I'll be back in a couple hours, a'ight? You just stay here and get some rest," he smirked.
"Are you sure?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah," he shrugged before getting out of bed, disposing of the condom, and going into his bathroom.
I lied back down and sighed deeply.
I fought my sleep as he showered, and once he was out and fully dressed, I sat up, shielding myself with the sheets.
"Hey, uh. . ." I spoke up to catch his attention.
His eyes met mine, and I suddenly felt small under his gaze.
"Be safe," my voice was unusually meek as I finally said what I was staying up to say.
"Thanks," he smiled before approaching me.
He leaned down and kissed my forehead and then my cheek. We gazed into each other's eyes for a moment before he grabbed his pager and keys and left.
I fell back against the pillow and sighed deeply. I drifted to sleep and slept soundly until it was daylight outside.
Swing hadn't come home when I awakened.
☆☆☆
there will be a fourth part & it'll be the last part.