Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Wait…
Did I squirt?
Did. I. Just. Squirt?
I don’t know what Shad did, but he made liquid fly out, and as much as I tried to stop it with my hands, it wouldn’t stop. Mortification washed over me. I was still lying here on Shad’s bed, in the dark, and I had just…gushed. All over him, too. All over his bed.
Shad had gone into his bathroom, I guess to wash himself. I heard water. I couldn’t even raise. My muscles felt like jelly. I’ve heard about…squirting. I’ve seen the exaggerated scenes in porn, but I thought that shit was fake. Thought it was just performance.
But it was real.
And messy.
That was some overwhelming pressure that had built up over the months I hadn’t been penetrated. I wasn’t even using toys. I was just straight celibate. Now…now Shad had ended it.
I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing somehow the floor would just open up and swallow me whole. What was Shad thinking? Was he in the bathroom to get away from me? Was he scrubbing his body with soap to rid himself of the nasty liquid? The pee! I had basically peed on the nigga!
Fuck that, Daee! Ain’t nothing nasty about you! That shit is…normal.
I felt the bed shift, and then I was scooped up.
“What are you doing?” I squeaked out.
“Taking yo’ lil’ nasty ass to the shower,” Shad chortled. “Pissy ass.
Ohhhh my gaaaaaaaawd!
Shad wasn’t just grossed out, but he was actively making fun of me. I beat a weak fist against his chest.
“Put me the fuck down!”
“Girl, shut the fuck up,” he grunted.
Shad kicked the bathroom door open, and steam surrounded us.
He stepped into the shower, still holding me.
He set me down on my feet, my legs trembled so badly that I almost collapsed.
He chuckled, but held onto me until I felt okay to stand on my own.
The space was suddenly small and intimate, with the water cascading over both of our bodies.
He handed me a washcloth and poured his body wash on it for me.
Shad did the same on his washcloth. I turned my back on him and began washing my body.
I lathered the soap over my skin, trying not to wonder where his eyes were.
I was sure they were on the stretchmarks on my ass.
They were faint lines that mapped the curve of my hips and the swell of my ass.
I used to hate them, but lately staring at my naked self in the mirror, I grown to love them.
I felt him move behind me. I yawned. My eyes were heavy from the beating he’d put on my pussy.
What was crazy though…I could still feel him inside of me.
I could feel the way my pussy stretched for him.
The heaviness. I flinched when I washed between my legs.
Shad was too blessed. I felt bad for any virgin he broke in.
Shad had towels waiting for us. I finished before him, stepped out of the shower, and wrapped one of the plush black oversized towels around my body.
My hands flew to my hair. It had gotten somewhat wet, and I already knew Shad didn’t own a blow dryer or a hair bonnet.
I was already looking a frizzy, nappy mess in this man’s place, giving Shad something else to talk shit to me about.
I was drying off in front of the mirror and noticed a purple mark on my neck. This negro gave me a hickey! I covered the smile trying to spread on my lips with the back of my hand. Shad was a rough, mean grinch, but this pussy had him weaaaak.
“What the fuck you smilin’ all weird for?” he asked. I didn’t even hear him stop the shower, step out, or walk toward me. I was too focused on this passion mark.
“No reason,” I muttered. I grabbed the toothbrush I’d been using and stood in front of the mirror, cleaning my mouth out.
“Weird ass.”
I came to the conclusion that Shad didn’t know how to talk to a female. That was probably the reason why he was single. His dick was…amazing. Fucking amazing even. But, his mouth? A damn turn off! He was mean as fuck, and sometimes you couldn’t tell if he was serious or not.
Then, I like a man who was in the holiday spirit. Shad didn’t give a fuck about it.
When I entered the bedroom, like always, Shad had a t-shirt and boxer-briefs laid out on the bed for me. He’d stripped the bedding off, and my face grew warm just thinking about the mess I had made. Now he had to wash everything.
Shad went back into the bathroom, and I dried off, moisturized my body with the Nivea lotion on his dresser, and dressed. I stood in the middle of the room, wondering where his extra sheets were. At least I could put fresh ones on for him while he washed his blanket.
I walked down the hall where a closet was, opened it, and found sheets and other shit.
There was a small wicker basket on one of the shelves, containing a photo.
I picked it up and wished I hadn’t. The glass was broken, and I’d cut my thumb.
Sucking on it, I used my other hand to look at the beautiful woman on it.
She was smiling…hard and holding up the peace sign.
Dark skin with locs. Full lips. Eyes staring at whoever was taking the picture as if she were… in love.
“Nosey ass bitch!”
“Excuse you?” I hollered.
Shad moved me out of the way and slammed the closet shut. His cold, dark eyes dug into me. This wasn’t the same person that was just inside of me…the same person that was just kissing me.
“Why the fuck you snooping around?” he growled.
“Snooping? I was looking for sheets to put on your bed! I just happened to see that picture!” I yelled. I was mad now…or was I more hurt? Hurt because I was kind of liking him, but if he kept up with calling me a bitch I was swinging on him.
“I ain’t ask yo to do shit.” He peered down and huffed. “Now yo’ stupid ass is bleeding on my…”
Pop!
I swung so hard and hit Shad in the face. He shoved me against the wall with his body and hovered over me. He was breathing so hard, I wasn’t sure what pissed him off even more. Me finding the picture or hitting his ass.
“Keep yo’ fuckin’ hands to yourself, Daee.”
“Stop calling me names, Shad!”
He bit down on his lip. Eyes blazing with a fire I hadn’t seen while in his space.
It wasn’t just anger. It appeared to be more than that.
Like hurt or pain. It was a storm of emotions so raw and powerful that it was almost suffocating.
I had to step back, but I couldn’t. Shad still had me pinned between himself and the wall, his heat searing through the cotton of the shirt he’d given me.
I could feel the rapid beat of his heart against my chest. A frantic rhythm that needed to be calmed.
For a long tense moment, we just stared at each other. I wanted to ask Shad who that girl was, but obviously, she was a trigger for him. If she triggered him like this, why did he even keep that picture?
My finger was hurting from the cut, and my hand was throbbing from the impact of hitting Shad’s hard ass jaw.
Massaging his jaw, Shad finally stepped back, and that’s when it happened. The electricity went out. We were in absolute blackness, minus the fireplace in the living room still casting a flickering, dancing glow down the hallway.
“Fuck,” he gritted. “Fuck!” He let out a long, slow breath, the sound barely audible over the wind. It grew louder. Limbs crackled outside as they broke. I was scared to even look outside. I was scared to move from the wall.
He headed back to his room, and once he was away from me, keeping one hand on the cool, textured wall, I started to move toward the living room. My phone was somewhere on the couch. I needed that for light.
Finally, my hand left the wall when I could make out the sofa thanks to the fire.
I patted it down, searching for the smooth, cool surface of my phone.
My fingers brushed against the remote, an unopened bag of chips, and then my phone.
My fingers closed around it, and then I groaned when I saw that the battery was at fifteen percent.
I sat on the sofa, pulling my legs up, and covered myself up with the blanket. I had no idea what Shad was doing, but I was glad to be away from him for a moment. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with the last fifteen percent. Call my mama? Get on TikTok? Scroll on Instagram?
It was late, and I was sure my parents were asleep. I sent my mama a message letting her know the power had gone out and my phone might be dead by the morning, but I was alright and for them not to worry. I was in… good hands? Was I? Was I still in good hands?
Shad appeared still shirtless, his shorts hanging off his hips, showing the band of his boxer-briefs. He handed me a towel. I looked down at my finger. It was still bleeding some, and now I felt bad that I may have gotten it all over his carpet and maybe his wall too.
Shad strolled over to the fireplace, throwing in more wood.
“This is all we have to keep warm. I’m not sure how long we gon’ be without electricity. There’s food we can eat on that doesn’t need heating up. We’ll be aight,” he assured. “How’s yo’ finger and fist?”
“How’s your jaw?”
He snickered. “Yo’ fist ain’t do shit, Daee. Don’t hit me again.”
“Don’t call me names,” I countered angrily.
Shad nodded. “Aight.”
He kicked his slides off and sat on the couch by my foot with his phone in his hand. Next thing I know, he’s pulling the same blanket that’s over me, on him.
“We gotta stay warm. Don’t kick me in my face.”
“What battery percentage do you have? You know, just in case of an emergency?” I quizzed.
“A hunnid.”
I smacked my lips. “Lucky you. I’m on fifteen.”
“You don’t need it anyway. Go to sleep. Know that pussy still throbbin’,” Shad laughed, getting comfortable, one hand holding one of my feet as if it was comforting.
I didn’t respond because he was right. It was still throbbing. Still sore.
Still longing for more.