Chapter 7 #2
I put my fork down and gave her my undivided attention. “Why is that so hard for you to believe? And don’t tell me nothing about you being pregnant by Wilcox. You were acting suspicious of me before you found out you were pregnant.”
“Okay, I was a little . . . I won’t say suspicious, because I wasn’t suspicious of you. I was unsure. Are players really okay dating women who they know have messed around with their teammates? I don’t know. That just seems so . . . I don’t want to slut-shame myself, because I’m not a slut—”
I cut her off. “Yeah, so there’s no reason to slut-shame. Tell me what the real issue is.”
She sighed heavily. “Sleeping with two people from the same team feels kinda . . . unseemly.”
“Your attitude about casual sex feels kinda puritanical. Why’d you agree to have a casual situation with Wilcox in the first place, especially if it made you question yourself?”
“That’s a really long story.”
“You got someplace to be?”
“You sure you wanna hear about all the unpleasantness of my past?”
This girl, I thought to myself. Out loud, I said, “I’m sure.”
“Growing up, I had a very stereotypical life. My mother and her best friend got pregnant one after another. Her best friend had a son, and of course, my mother had me, . . . a daughter. They used to think it was so cute to say that their kids were gonna grow up and get married. As we grew up, we did start dating.” She took a deep breath.
“We did the whole thing. Dating. Fell in love as teenagers. Took each other’s virginity, .
. . the whole thing. After college, he proposed.
I got pregnant. Everything was going to the plan our mothers had imagined for us.
They were going to be co-grandmothers. The whole thing. ”
“You keep saying the whole thing,” I told her.
“I know. Because in retrospect, it feels very, I don’t know, unrealistic. It was almost like everything was working out too good. I feel like one of us, or some of us should’ve been worried, but we weren’t. At least not until I lost the pregnancy.”
I wasn’t sure if she noticed, but I saw her right hand drop down to cradle her non-existent stomach.
“Losing the pregnancy just brought . . . upheaval. I can’t think of another way to describe it. Maybe chaos? Turmoil? I wanted the baby. I wanted the life we all envisioned with Channing. That’s my ex’s name. Channing. I wanted a life with Channing. It was a missed miscarriage.”
“What is that? A missed miscarriage?”
“It’s when the fetus is no longer alive, but the body doesn’t realize it.
The pregnancy tests kept coming up positive.
I never would’ve thought anything was wrong.
I didn’t think anything was wrong until the ultrasound tech’s measurements were crazy and they couldn’t find the heartbeat.
” She swallowed loud enough for me to hear it.
“I’ve never told anybody this but LoLo and our parents.
After I lost the baby, I grieved. I was sad and depressed.
But Channing went into a pit. His grief looked so different from mine.
I tried not to judge, because everybody grieves in their own way.
I tried to put my grief on pause so I could see about his.
But instead of coming out of it, he went deeper into it.
“His conversations started being about not caring about anything, ending it all, and self-harm. It scared the hell outta me. I tried to keep the things that were happening in our house to myself. I didn’t want to alarm his mother or my own mother.
But then he disappeared for three days, and I had to tell them. ”
“He disappeared?”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
“Was he cool? Did he end up being okay?”
“That time he did. Eventually, though, we couldn’t deny the truth.
There was more going on than just his reaction to the miscarriage.
There were clearly some deeper mental health issues that needed to be addressed.
Once he got the diagnosis, he went off the deep end again.
We decided to pause, then eventually call off the wedding.
He moved back in with his parents because he needed real support.
I left teaching, moved back home, and tried to figure out life. ”
“You weren’t living here when you were going through all of that?”
“No. After college, Channing and I stayed in Indianapolis. He came back to Chicago first. When things started crashing in around him and he needed more support, he moved back here. I thugged it out for another year before I decided that nothing was keeping me in Indianapolis but failure to change directions. I’ve never regretted coming home. I probably should’ve done it sooner.”
“Is that your thing?”
“Is what my thing?”
“Beating yourself up about the decisions you make?”
She looked up at the ceiling with a thoughtful expression. “I never thought of it as beating myself up, but I do second guess myself a lot.” She shrugged. “I don’t know why.”
“Let me ask you something. You were in a relationship with Channing since y’all were young? He was your first, and you planned to marry him?”
She nodded.
“Then y’all suffered a catastrophic loss that sent him into a mental breakdown, you broke up, and the first . . . entanglement you got involved in was a let’s mess around with no strings attached situation with Wilcox?”
“It was better that way. Believe me, it was better that way. I didn’t have to trust him or consider the future.”
“Are you open to trusting anybody? Considering the future with anybody?”
“I wanna be, but I’m in a really . . . precarious situation right now. I need to focus on this pregnancy. It needs to be my priority.”
“Agreed. But a little support and companionship never hurt anybody.”
She giggled. “You’re offering me support and companionship?”
“I’m offering you support and companionship, Wyndi.”
“And dick, too, if I want it?”
It was my turn to laugh. “And dick, too. If you want or need it.”
“Hey, Kaynaan.”
“What’s up?”
“I want it and need it.”
“Say less.”
Her bedroom was small, just like the rest of the apartment.
But it carried her energy. The décor looked like her.
It felt like her. She undressed quickly, and I did the same.
Once we were both in her bed, I pulled her to me and held her on my chest. I didn’t know why; I just felt like she needed it.
Like she needed to be held. She wrapped her hands around my neck and held me tightly.
We lay there, holding each other in the quiet.
When her breathing slowed down and evened out, I moved down her body.
I hoisted her thick thighs over my shoulders, settled myself between them, and spanked her clit with my tongue, before pulling it into my mouth.
I swirled my tongue around her center, making it even more creamy than it already was.
Then I licked and sucked. Licked and sucked. Licked and sucked until she started to writhe under my attack. She started to wiggle beneath my mouth. Her back arched, and her hips rolled against my face.
My name floated from her lips and out into the space, sounding like a plea. Like an entreaty. Like a request. And I loved that shit. It caused me to go harder, to lick her more slowly, to curl my tongue, and to nibble her clit.
Her hands went to the back of my head and pressed me deeper into her pussy.
She opened her legs wider. She moaned more loudly.
She rode my face while I tongue kissed her sensitive bud.
We stayed like that for a while, with me pleasuring her in the most intimate way.
But soon enough, her moans picked up and grew louder.
Her body noticeably tensed before she relaxed and flooded my mouth with the sweetest nectar.
I gorged myself with it, licking her clean while she trembled and rode waves of ecstasy until they subsided.
“Kaynaan,” she crooned, as her body gave witness to the pleasure still coursing through her.
I didn’t respond to her calling my name. I simply made my way up her gorgeous body, positioned myself between her thighs, and inserted myself into her pussy.
The feeling of penetration was always a heady moment, but with Wyndi, the moment was on steroids. Her juiciness, combined with her tightness, threatened to make me release my load. I pounded into her, relentlessly working her middle.
“Ooh.” Her moans sounded sweet as hell, while her hands gripped my biceps tightly.
“You feel so fucking good!” I forced out the words through clenched teeth.
“Same.” She panted, her voice raspy with pleasure ascending in octaves as she came undone underneath me. She visibly quaked as her orgasm overtook her, and waves of satisfaction moved through her body.
I continued to stroke her until I caught up to my own orgasm, cursing loudly as a tidal wave of rapture threatened to drown me. Loads of cum raced from my dick and saturated Wyndi’s womb in spurts. When my balls were finally empty, we lay side by side.
I want this woman. The thought crashed my brain.
I’d always been a person who went all gas, no brakes for whatever I wanted in life.
I didn’t feel like I could do that with Wyndi.
All gas, no brakes would probably scare the shit out of her.
All I could do was hope that she would willingly give herself to me.