10. Asaiah
Flee also youthful lusts: but follow righteousness, faith, charity, peace, with them that call on the Lord out of a pure heart.
"Man, no disrespect because I truly respect you, but I ain't trying to hear this right now."
Maybe not, but how can you expect to receive something different if all of your interactions with women are only sexual in nature? Given your past and what this woman has been like in your present, don't you think you should try a different approach?
Grumbling, I ponder the intrusive thoughts filling my mind because it's the last thing I want to hear right now. The phone call with Onesti while the terrible Tubi movie played in my background had my dick bricking the second I heard a reaction to my suggestive words. My strong man took over, which had me offering to show her what I could do in the bedroom.
Sure, having sex with Onesti will be fulfilling, but will it provide more than a temporary reprieve? What happened to you not wanting to pursue anything with her? Shouldn't that extend to sex too? A man with your sexual history should want to turn over a new leaf in that area of your life.
"What do you suggest I do, then?" I angrily ask.
You can't do the same thing and expect a different result… change how you handle this one.
"How?" Slamming the toilet lid down after scrubbing it, I try to reel in my quick attitude because this isn't the conversation I want to be having.
Jumping the gun, even without hearing from Onesti on whether or not she was taking me up on my suggestion, I've been cleaning my house. I'm finishing my bathroom, and my flaring nostrils and chest's heavy rise and fall increase my blood pressure.
Date her… outside of your house so you can avoid temptation. You have never given a woman anything other than your anatomy. Give Onesti something different.
Wordlessly, I flush the toilet and exit the bathroom, picking up my phone once I reach my bed. Cleaning my ensuite and bedroom directly indicated what type of time I was on with Onesti. Begrudgingly, I open my text thread with Onesti and do something I'm unsure of but hard-pressed not to ignore.
Me:
I was thinking. How about we grab something to eat instead? I would like to get to know you before we attempt to cross those lines… if we cross them at all.
My guy! Now you're moving smarter, not harder.
Dropping the phone on the bed, I exit my room toward the kitchen, desperate for something to soothe my bruised ego. With my thoughts swirling along with the suggestions from the small voice in my head, I yank the fridge open and grab a bottle of water. Twisting the cap, I tilt the bottle and drink the contents until my throat protests from the cold liquid. Coming up for air, I secure the cap, set the bottle on the island, and return to my bedroom. My gaze is on the phone, causing my steps to move to retrieve it. Seeing Onesti's name causes my heart rate to increase and my hands to shake slightly, but I unlock the phone to read the message awaiting me.
Onesti:
I'd love that. Any place in particular you have in mind?
See, you attract more bees with honey than with vinegar. Date the woman before you consider sticking your lit ? —
"Whoa, I'm willing to listen, but don't be insulting my guy," I warn, cutting off the thought within my mind.
Shaking my head, I reply to Onesti while biting my lip, suddenly anxious about meeting up with her.
Me:
Ladies choice. What are you in the mood to eat, Ms. Onesti?
Onesti:
Pizza. How about Trusty's Pizza Palace?
I'm familiar with the pizza restaurant, and my stomach starts growling on cue upon reading her suggestion. It's a buffet-style pizza spot with many options and several breadsticks and salad choices. The restaurant also has a soda machine where you can mix and match flavors. The owner, Kenan Trust, has a goldmine on his hands with the establishment, where patrons can fill up on delicious and mouthwatering pies six days a week, as they are closed on Sundays.
Me:
Great choice. I don't want to make this awkward initially, so how about we meet there in an hour and a half?
Onesti:
It's a date. See you soon.
Flutters spread across my chest, and my hands begin perspiring, causing my forehead to wrinkle from the uncommon feeling I had after reading Onesti's message. Ignoring my reaction, I return my phone to the bed and head to my closet to find something to wear. A quick shower will be next since I don't want to show up smelling like cleaning products.
* * *
Pulling into a parking spot at the restaurant, I put the gear in park and run my moist palms down my jeans. Moisture is filling my mouth, and my body temperature is slightly elevated now that I have safely made it to my destination.
"Come on, man, chill. This isn't your first rodeo. You're just sharing a meal with a woman. It'll be a piece of cake," I coach myself before taking several cleansing breaths to quiet the pounding within my chest cavity.
Arriving early demonstrates to Onesti how much I value her time and agreeing to break bread with me.
Or it's your way to ensure you can quiet the bubble guts threatening to force an end to this date before it even starts. You might want to get that gas out in here because it wouldn't be sanitary to do it in Onesti's presence.
Closing my eyes, I swallow the moisture in my throat before my nose wrinkles upon smelling the silent backfiring from beneath me. My stomach has been flipping and spinning like a Tilt-A-Whirl since my plans with Onesti became set in stone. I don't know why this woman got me out of sorts, but clenching my mouth, I silently pray for an end to this discomfort in my stomach.
"Please don't let me pass gas in this woman's presence, God," I say when a cannon goes off, causing my face to twist and contort from the smell and sound.
In all my thirty-plus years of living, this has never happened to me, and I'm struggling to understand why I'm reacting to a simple date.
Brrnng. Brrnng.
My heart pounds in my chest like an African band when my phone starts ringing, causing me to open my eyes. Seeing Annalise's name flashing on the radio dashboard, I sigh.
"Hello." My voice is unsteady and foreign even to my ears, and I shift my body from side to side, trying to shake off what's going on with me.
"Is something wrong? You don't sound right," Annalise says by way of greeting.
"I'm straight. What's up, sis?"
Hm, I didn't know repeat and bomb detonating gas is a sign of being okay.
Ignoring the statement from my conscience, I stare at the numbers on the clock, grateful for a few minutes to get through this call and extinguish my stomach mishap before I have to exit my vehicle.
"I'm gonna come home next week." Annalise's voice is softer than it was at the start of this call, which raises my brows.
"Oh yeah?"
"Mhm. I want to ensure that you aren't neglecting yourself in the midst of everything going on with Andre and Valerie. I know how hard you go for them, but I also know that you do it in silence. I want to lay my eyes on you to ensure that it's not becoming too much for you to bear."
Although Annalise refuses to deal with our parents' issues, she never fails to keep her hands on my well-being. Despite our age difference and my ability to keep Annalise away from our parents' chaos, she understands the gravity of the situation.
"You don't have to come home, sis. I'm cool. Pops refused treatment and signed himself out of the hospital. For now, Mom says they're recovering."
The call from Mom about Dad leaving the hospital almost had me blowing a gasket last night, but I have to remember myself through all of this. Five minutes into the call with Mom, I had to reel in my frustration, because no matter how I feel about their situation, my mom and dad are grown. While knowing that doesn't negate the tightening in my chest at the thought of their demise from the drugs they refuse to let go of, I have to release myself from the stress until the next incident, anyway.
"I hate you won't walk away from them. Don't let their demons kill you, Asaiah. I worry about you because you refuse to let that sinking ship hit the bottom of the ocean," Annalise says, cutting into my thoughts.
Moistening my dry lips, my gaze returns to the clock, and my grace period is over, which means I must get out if I plan to be on time.
"Listen, I'm heading to meet someone for dinner, so I have to go. Don't worry about me, I'm gonna be good. I love you, sis."
"I can't help but worry. Love you more, Asaiah."
* * *
"Oh my God! Did you really do that?" Onesti asks, cupping her mouth while laughing.
An abundance of warmth stretches across my chest from watching the bright light reflecting from Onesti's face. The stars twinkling in her eyes have a goofy grin on my lips, and the urge to continue providing the laughter within Onesti pushes me forward.
"I did. One thing about Valerie Harrison that I've always respected is her need to give me the blueprint for kicking ass and taking names. Shoving that little ninja's head in a shitty toilet was payback for the constant ridiculing he refused to release me from. I think the kids thought I was a punk because I would stay to myself, but I was anything but."
The little boy from elementary school who teased me about Mom didn't learn his lesson when I told him off with her permission the next day. In middle school, that same boy became the class clown who I had to show better than I could tell to leave me alone.
"Wow. How did you keep from getting it on you?" The lines around Onesti's eyes accompany the humor dancing in her eyes.
"I didn't, which made me madder, which led to me wiping my hand on his shirt. While he might have been able to rid his face of the evidence, his shirt made the encounter stay with him all day," I say, releasing a low chuckle at the memory of what I did to my first tormentor.
"Remind me not to make you mad." Onesti laughs while shaking her head and taking another bite of the slice of pizza she's consuming.
My gaze shifts to her mouth, and my dick twitches at the unconscious sensual way Onesti is consuming her food. I'm sure Onesti isn't aware of the low mewls escaping her mouth, causing my body to heat.
I've got to think about something other than Onesti's lips wrapping around my dick. Damn.
Remember the time Dorothy Trainor sucked your dick after letting you stick it in her ass?
My stomach flips aggressively from the image of Dorothy I had forgotten over the years, which effectively causes my dick to go limp.
"I've shared one of my not-so-defining moments from childhood. Your turn," I announce, returning to the conversation.
"Hm. Let's see. I once put some Chic-O sticks in my mom's grocery cart without her knowledge. I buried them under some shirts she was buying me and?—"
Onesti can't be for real right now. I told her about playing dunk the kiddie in the shitty, and she's talking about sneaking candy. Onesti is from Venus, and I'm on Saturn. How can this possibly work?
Not thy will, but My will be done.
The counter to my question has me fighting not to roll my eyes before tuning back into Onesti's spiel.
"Mom wasn't mad, and I got to eat the Chic-O sticks on the ride back home."
"You're a real rebel, woman."
"I was five, and I was trying to ease into my sinful acts," Onesti says, frowning.
"Ooh, now that sounds loaded. Do tell." Folding my hands together, I lean forward expectantly while struggling to ignore the jolt in my chest when Onesti's eyes beam, and a smirk lifts her lips.