Chapter 49 Geneva
Geneva
After all of the attention at work, I just couldn’t find it in me to remain there for the rest of my shift. The boss was out and Darlene, a sucker for a good romance novel, was still wiping her eyes when she told me to go on, that she would handle the rest of the shift alone.
Deeka drove me home, and I promised that I would meet him at his place later on that evening so that we could discuss telling Eric and everybody else about our relationship.
Charlie was with my mother, Doris B, and I called Mom and told her that I would need her to keep Charlie until about ten p.m. Mom acted as if it were a chore, but I knew she really enjoyed having Charlie around. They fussed with each other like two old women.
I sat on the couch, staring at my feet, wondering just how I would tell my son that I was in love with one of his friends. I set up what I would say scene by scene in my head, and each time it seemed to end badly. Shaking my head in despair, I reached for my cigarettes and lit one.
There was something else to consider too. I was going to meet Deeka at his place. Surely that meant there was going to be sex. I really wanted to be with him but wondered, once he saw me in the nude, if he’d still want me.
“Ahhhhhh!” I screamed out to the walls as I reached for the remote control and turned the television on.
Flicking through the channels, I stopped when I came to BET.
A Loose Change video was on, and for a moment I was enchanted.
He was one good-looking man. I laughed to myself as I thought how Chevy salivated over him.
I wondered briefly how her night at Babalu’s was going and made a mental note to give her crazy ass a call in the morning.
Immediately following the Loose Change video was a Jill Scott video. Now there is a big, beautiful black woman, I thought. And wasn’t she married? I thought she might be. I propped my feet up on the coffee table and watched.
An Angie Stone video followed. Hey, another big, beautiful black woman, and wasn’t she and that fine-ass D’Angelo an item for a while? They even had a child together!
I shot straight up. It was like I had an epiphany. It was as if the spirits of all of the big, beautiful black women were talking to me all at once! What was wrong with being big?
“Not a goddamn thing!” I screamed victoriously.
In no time I was up from the couch and in my bedroom, rummaging through my underwear drawers.
“I know I own at least one pair of thongs,” I muttered to myself, tossing grandma panty after grandma panty onto the floor until I found the one and only thong I’d ever owned huddling in the corner of the drawer.
It was red silk with brown suede insets on the side and a lacy bow at the back. The tag was still attached to it, and I wondered why I’d never worn it.
Quickly slipping out of my uniform, bra, and panties, I hurriedly slipped it on and immediately knew why it had never been worn.
My bulging stomach sagged over the waistband, and when I turned around to see what the rear view looked like, the bow wasn’t even visible—lost somewhere in the crack of my ass!
Yesterday, that view would have left me defeated, but on that day, I looked at myself and said, “Beautiful!”
***
After a long hot shower, I creamed my skin with Charlie’s baby lotion—I just loved the smell of it—and then doused myself in Jean Naté.
Slicking my hair back with some gel, I rummaged through my old makeup bag and found a tube of mascara that was damn near dust when I opened it.
It must have been sitting in that bag for five years.
I scraped out what I could and applied it onto my lashes.
I’d done some shopping since I’d been seeing Deeka. Not much, nothing like what Chevy and Crystal do. But I’d hit Lane Bryant on a few occasions and had managed to pick up some decent stuff from the sale rack.
Because, for the first time in a long time, I was feeling my femininity, I decided on the sunny white and yellow sundress that I’d purchased for under twenty dollars a week earlier.
I didn’t have any shoes to match it, so I just slipped on a pair of flip-flops that I’d bought to wear out to Coney Island Beach last year. They were yellow, so it worked for me.
I applied some raspberry-colored lip gloss to my lips, grabbed my pocketbook, and headed out the door. Chaka Khan’s “I’m Every Woman” was buzzing in my head as I took the slow-moving elevator down to the lobby and headed out of the building.
“Hello, Ms.Geneva!” some of Charlie’s little friends yelled at me when I walked by.
“Hey, kids!” I yelled back.
“Oooh, you look nice, Ms.Geneva!” they sang.
You’re damn right I do!
“Thank you kindly!”
I looked nice and I felt good. I was on a natural high. Here I was, the mother of a grown son and young daughter, working as a waitress and living in the projects, on my way to see my twentysomething gorgeous band-manager boyfriend.
What wasn’t there to feel good about?
***
When Deeka opened the door to his Columbus Circle apartment, he was dressed in a pair of blue sweatpants and a red tank top. His muscles rippled as he took a step back to let me in. In one hand he held a steaming pan of shrimp.
“Hey, baby,” he said after he leaned in and kissed me quickly on the lips. “You look wonderful.”
I glowed.
“Have a seat, make yourself comfortable.”
The apartment was small but cozy. The walls were painted a warm brown and accented by creamy white moldings.
There were family pictures on a small glass table beneath the window that looked out on the courtyard, and large framed prints of musical instruments hung on every wall.
In addition to that, there were instruments propped up against the walls. Some I’d never even seen before.
A scented candle sat flickering on the glass table in front of the sofa, alongside a stack of magazines. The floors were glistening hardwood, and I didn’t see a speck of dust in sight. He’s a better housekeeper than I am, I thought.
I sat down on the leather sofa.
“Can I help you with anything?” I yelled to Deeka, who was in the kitchen.
“No, no, just relax.”
Teddy Pendergrass was playing on a stereo I couldn’t see, and I just leaned back and allowed myself to let go.
Deeka came in with two glasses of white wine.
“What kind is this?” I asked.
“Chardonnay.”
“Hmm.” We clinked glasses.
“I’m glad you’re here, ’Neva,” he said after we’d sipped the wine.
“Me too.”
***
Dinner was wonderful: shrimp scampi, spinach salad, and wild rice. We ate and laughed and talked and drank, until I looked up at the clock and realized it was practically midnight and we hadn’t even touched on how we were going to tell Eric.
“Oh, damn,” I said in a panic.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s almost twelve o’clock. I didn’t expect to be out this late,” I said, jumping up from the table. “I have to call Doris B. I know she’s having a fit.”
Deeka just sat there looking at me.
“Where’s the phone?” I said, spinning in circles.
“You’re leaving?” he said quietly as he got up and picked the cordless phone up from its base on a wooden stand nearby.
I didn’t even answer him. I snatched the phone from him and punched in Doris B’s number. It rang three times before Doris B’s sleepy voice answered. I began rambling my apologies, but all Doris B said was “Don’t you have any upbringing, girl? Don’t be calling me at this hour unless someone’s dead.”
And with that she hung up the phone. That was Doris B for you, but I was more than sure tomorrow I would be getting an earful.
“So?” Deeka said.
“So,” I replied as I stared sheepishly at him, “I guess I’m staying.”
***
All of a sudden I was nervous, standing there clasping and unclasping my hands as I watched Deeka dim the lights, then take a seat on the sofa, tapping the empty space beside him and indicating with a jerk of his head that he wanted me there.
I lumbered over and sat down, practically hugging the arm of the chair while I tried to remember the words to Chaka’s song.
“Do you think I’m going to bite you?” Deeka laughed seductively.
I shook my head and gave him a small smile.
“I will, you know, if you want me to,” he said, and winked.
I giggled like a schoolgirl as I moved closer to him. We kissed. Small pecks at first, then more urgent probings, and I felt my insides open up and my heart must have dropped down between my legs because there was some steady thumping going on there.
“I want you so bad,” I murmured as he covered my face in kisses.
His only response was one hand pushing beneath my dress and massaging my vagina through the silky material of the thong, while the other worked at pulling my breast out from the confines of the sundress.
His mouth was on fire by the time it reached my nipple. I could hardly catch my breath, and then all the air went out of me when his hand, the one under my dress, suddenly found its way up inside of me.
“Damn, you’re so wet, so fucking wet,” he mumbled.
He moved his finger in and out of me, and I ain’t going to lie, it felt good, but I needed something bigger!
“I want you, I want you,” I breathed over and over again.
And suddenly I was in the air. That man had swooped my two-hundred-plus pounds up like I was as light as a feather.
In his bedroom, he placed me gently down onto his king-sized bed and began to slowly undress me. When I was just down to my thong, he looked at me and said, “You are one sexy woman, Geneva Holliday.”
My excitement spilled over, and I flung my legs wide open while I watched him slip out of his clothes. There it was: the biggest, blackest, prettiest dick I had ever seen. “Oh, shit,” I said, and then fear took hold of me. Would I be able to handle it all?
He moved closer and it seemed to swell.
Slowly, my legs began to close, but Deeka didn’t seem to notice. He pulled the drawer to the nightstand open, pulled out a condom, and, ripping the package open with his teeth, he expertly rolled it onto his throbbing cock.
Something in me told me that I was in store for one hell of a ride! Climbing on top of me, he began to cover me in kisses again, as he tugged my thong off. It took a moment, seeing that the decorative bow at the back was lodged in the crack of my ass, but it finally came free.
As Deeka positioned the tip of his dick at my hole’s entrance, I held my breath and squeezed my eyes shut while he slowly eased himself in. Damn, it felt good to have a real dick up inside of me and not a stiff plastic dildo!
He slid the tip of his penis in and out, in and out, until we could both feel my muscles relax and give way so that he could slip another inch in, and then another, and then another, until my legs were wrapped tightly around him.
“Are you okay?” he breathed into my ear.
I was just fine!
He smiled at me, kissed me beneath my eyes, and on the tip of my nose before sliding his hands beneath my bottom and raising it up off the bed. My breath caught in my throat.
“Breathe,” he whispered as he sank deeper into me. “Breathe, baby, breathe.” And I did, and that man’s dick touched something up inside of me that had never been touched before.
“Oh, shit,” I moaned as pleasure tore through me. I grabbed hold of his shoulders, bit down onto his shoulder blade, and churned my hips against his. I was in ecstasy. “Baby, baby, baby!” is all I could mumble over and over again. I had never had sex like that. Not ever!
We moved with each other, him up inside of me, our tongues dancing, our hands pressing and kneading; I swear it went on like that for hours. Whenever he asked, “Do you want me to stop?” my only answer was to pull him deeper inside.
When finally neither one of us could take any more, he wrangled my legs up and over his shoulders. I didn’t know if I could take all that dick slamming into me at one hundred miles an hour, but it was apparent that he was ready to spew his load, so I squeezed my eyes shut and braced myself.
In and out, in and out—his rhythm quickly gaining speed until he was pounding into me—and still he managed to touch that spot up inside of me and I forgot that my head was banging against the headboard, and dug my fingers into his waist and helped him bring it on home!
We came together; me screaming my head off and him babbling in a language I’d never heard before.