fixation (fast forward)

“Hey, I haven’t seen you around here before,” Rebecca as she grinned from ear to ear at the stranger as she walked into her building’s laundry room.

“Hi,” he said as he returned a smile. “I just moved here from Georgia. My name is Preston.”

“Preston.” She repeated. “Welcome to the neighborhood, Preston! My name is Rebecca.” She licked her lips subtly as her eyes glazed over Preston’s frame. He was quite exotic; nothing like she’s used to seeing in town. Her neighborhood in Pawtucket did not offer much eye candy. Many of the locals were just that, locals.

Rebecca moved back to her home town five years ago to help her aunt while her grandmother was ill. Something about her neighborhood reminded her of being in a barrel of crabs. Once you are in the barrel, there’s no way out unless someone pulls you out. And usually, once you’ve found a way out, you’ve found yourself in more trouble.

Rebecca joined the field of underground logistics working for an organization she never had a front seat in. She was more of a middleman, making arrangements for the organization’s shipments on different ports around the world. When she was ready to leave, she was allowed to do so, no questions asked. She did not look over her shoulder once. Her sister Helena managed to be the exception to their neighborhood’s rule and went off to college. Rebecca’s proudest moment was listening to her sister’s salutatorian speech. Helena was her baby and from the moment she laid eyes on her she promised to always watch over her.

“So Preston, how’d you find yourself in Pawtucket?”

“Just looking for a change of pace. So far I’m liking what I’ve seen.” He replied as he returned a flirtatious look.

“I’m in apartment 503D. Stop by if you need anything,” Rebecca’s tone was suggestive.

He smiled but did not reply as Rebecca strolled out of the laundry room.

******

Rebecca settled into bed but could not rest. Her mind was on her mother and the last time she saw her. Her mother disappeared when Helena was two and she was seven. Their grandmother would always promise them that their mother would return but Danica never came home. Rumors circulated the neighborhood that she may have been murdered or sold away by her dealer. No one could say for sure. At a ripe twenty years old, where ever Danica disappeared to, it was no where good. Rebecca would still relive their last moment together every so often and it would startle her out of a deep sleep. Rebecca tossed in her bed trying to avoid the recurring dream of her mother’s departure.

“Momma will be right back, baby girl. I love you and Lena very much,” she said in Russian, her native language. Her slight accent always lingered in the back of Rebecca’s thoughts. That was the last time Rebecca heard her mother’s voice. She remembers her mother’s jet black hair being soaked as she kissed her good bye. Danica wore her father’s gold crucifix around her neck every day. She cast a look over her shoulder and kissed the crucifix as she walked out of her children’s life for good.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Given the late hour, Rebecca assumed it was an emergency and rushed to the door.

“Lena, what are you doing here?’ Rebecca whispered as she swung open her apartment door.

“I had to get away!” Helena tried to catch her breath. “I think someone is following me.”

Rebecca ushered her inside before peeking down her hallway to make sure it was clear. She turned to face her sister whose face was streaked with tears.

“What’s going on?” Rebecca asked.

“I can’t tell you,” Helena stammered. Her tawny brown skin was flushed. “I just need your help getting out of here.”

“Here, where? You have to tell me what’s going on or how can I help you?”

Helena leapt from the sofa and started pacing the floor and wringing her hands.

“Did you kill someone?” Rebecca continued her interrogation.

Helena shook her head vigorously in response and continued to ring her hands.

Before Rebecca could continue questioning her younger sister, there was a knock on her door. Both sisters froze in the living room.

The unannounced guest rapped on the door again.

“Who is it?” Rebecca called out.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s late but I need to call the maintenance guy and I don’t have his number,” Preston yelled through the door.

Rebecca turned to her sister to reassure her that the man at the door was her new neighbor but Helena went to hide elsewhere in the apartment.

“Just a minute!” After giving herself a once over in the hallway mirror, she opened the door.

“What’s up?” Rebecca asked.

“I need the number for the maintenance guy,” he repeated.

“Kinda late, no?” Rebecca flirted casually.

“I guess,” Preston started walking towards Rebecca to close the space between them.

“Let me get that number for you, ” she dipped around Preston and headed to the back room.

“I would have never guessed you and Helena are related,” he said following Rebecca towards the back.

She stopped in her tracks.

“What did you say?” Rebecca queried; she turned around cautiously to look Preston in his eyes.

“Helena, your sister, she never mentioned you,” his tone was ominous as he stepped closer to Rebecca.

“I never mentioned a sister to you,” Rebecca stepped backwards, matching his pace. Her mind flashed through the self defense techniques she learned during her years traveling as a logistics expert.

Preston lunged for Rebecca but she instinctively side stepped his aim and spun around so she was facing his back. As he tried to catch his balance from missing his target, Rebecca quickly lifted the heel of her foot and landed it into Preston’s back. She took the opportunity to race past him when he stumbled into her kitchen island.

Helena could hear the commotion from her hiding place. Her heart pounded in her ears as she sat on the floor anxiously.  Preston promised he would not chase her down and yet he managed to locate her older sister.

The sisters did not call out to one another for fear they would give up their hiding places. Rebecca ran into her bedroom and closed the door. There was no where for her to go besides out of the window and she would not leave her sister behind. She could hear Preston approaching the bedroom door so she planted her feet firmly on the ground in anticipation of his attack.

“Okay, Rebecca,” he reasoned through her locked bedroom door, “let’s not do this. Perhaps I came on too strong. Open the door.”

Rebecca did not respond; instead, she took several paces back preparing herself for a worse outcome. The sweat from her brow started to trickle down the side of her face.

“Three,” Preston warned. He began attaching a silencer to his Colt M1911, “two, one.”

He raised his weapon to the door handle, cocked it back then fired at the door knob.

Two more shots fired as he lunged for Rebecca. Helena stepped over his body and ran to her sister’s arms.

“That’s not Preston,” Helena commented. She looked down at the rangy man writhing on the floor and kicked his gun out of his reach.

“Get his arms,” Rebecca instructed her sister. The man roared in pain as Helena pulled his arms behind his back.

Rebecca grabbed one of her silk scarves and began tying his legs vigorously while Helena kept pressure on his bleeding shoulder. Rebecca finished tying his feet then got another scarf to tie his arms taut behind his back.

“There’s a bleeding man on my floor, Helena,” Rebecca was out of breath. “Explain.” She rolled the wailing man on to his side and crammed a pair of socks into his mouth.

Life of a Writer

This is random but I’m sitting here trying not to beat myself up. The fact is, I’m only human. I’m entitled to be easily distracted, aren’t I? I question this because my “sole purpose” of opening my laptop tonight was to write. But I have no self discipline and I wind up doing things that are not related to writing in the least. I’m hoping that another writer will reach out from my woodwork of creative followers and tell me that this is a part of any creative process. So here goes.

  1. Finding good music. Something to vibe to that isn’t too loud or fast paced. Perhaps a little sensual or even melancholy.
  2. Watching funny vines. Animals are so funny. No emotions, my ass. *Scoff*
  3. Signing on to WordPress & finishing a short story and starting a new one.
  4. Wait, I finished a story so before I start a new one, I surf the net and by net I mean Facebook and maybe instagram.
  5. Bad lady cramps. Let’s get on the floor and stretch. May as well work out a little too.
  6. More Facebook – funny cat compilation.
  7. Starts new short story
  8. Pondering my life.
  9. Puts baby back to sleep. ( in addition to being a writer, i also have two children)
  10. Self doubt
  11. Food?
  12. No. – just no.
  13. More self doubt.
  14. Okay, more writing.
  15. Meh…I can’t even finish this list.
  16. Sleep.

He Was Quite the Performer

I don’t where to start! This is so crazy to me. Alright, so I went on vacation with my friends for my birthday. We went back and forth for weeks trying to decide where we were going to go but finally came to the decision that we would go to Miami for eight days. I can’t tell you how happy I am that we decided to make this happen.

So here we are like a bunch of old ass women walking down the strip with a map. Yes, we had a map. Some guy in the hotel parking lot sold it to us for five bucks. And no, the hotel wasn’t the greatest on Collins Avenue, but it was affordable and since we already established that we wanted to be out and about as much as possible, it didn’t make much sense to get an expensive hotel room.

We finally found Wet Willies and settled in for a bit. I surveyed the beach around us and took note of all of the beautiful women and sexy men socializing nearby. It was nice, to say the very least. I separated from my girls for a bit; I wanted to take the scene in without the gossiping and picture taking. This is a big year for me and I wanted to truly bask in the moment.

So I’m walking and gazing when someone pulls up on my left. I squinted a little bit because the driver looked familiar but I couldn’t place him. The five seconds of eye contact felt like forever. He finally broke the silence and asked me if I was going to get in his car or keep staring. His southern drawl and the familiar way he curled his full lips almost had me faint. It hit me who the man is; I mean am I blind or just plain oblivious?

This is the part that kills me because I can’t tell you who he is and y’all going to think I ain’t shit but I got in the car. I didn’t even text my girls. When this man calls you over, you do not turn him down. Okay, so we’re driving in silence for a few and my heart is racing but I’m still trying to play it cool. I’m just like, chilling out and we’re vibing to the music.

And we weren’t listening to his music either. He had Smokey Robinson playing so that to me says he is not really as narcissistic as he portrays himself. Finally he breaks the silence and of course, he was a little rude at the same time. I wasn’t feeling that but again, when this guy says ‘Come,’ you don’t say no and you fully expect to be coming shortly thereafter.

He had said something about me being too quiet and suggested that maybe he should drop me off somewhere. I was a little ticked off and panicked at the same time. What should I do? Do I pull his dick out and start sucking? Maybe I should start sucking on my own damn titties. I didn’t know! He’s probably had sex with every woman on earth at this point. What can I possibly do differently?

Inwardly, I was a mess but outwardly, I was cucumber cool. So I narrowed my eyes in his direction and told him that he would never know how much I can be if kicked me out of his car. Y’all, I thought I was being so clever but he laughed at me! Well, it was more like a scoff. Kind of like he wasn’t impressed with my response.

My gears started turning again and I was back to square one thinking, “quick, girl, pull that man’s dick out and start sucking!” I started to get so lost in my own thoughts that I did not notice him pulling into a long driveway. We pulled up to a mostly glass house. He got out and headed to the door and I sat in the car stupidly for a moment until I realized that he was not going to open the car door for me.

I jumped out of the car and sped walked to catch up with him. He looked over his shoulder at me like he doubted my ability and was second guessing his decision to pick me up. I felt so silly at this point and it was all I could do not to faint. So we walked into his home and it’s just as gorgeous as you can imagine.

The floors in the foyer were white marble and there was a wide staircase branching off to the right with a wrought iron chandelier in the middle of the ceiling. When I looked over to the left, there was another room that resembled a party hall with peach marble flooring and a baby grand piano in the middle of the floor. Despite being extremely impressed with the entry, I stayed cool.

He walked past the stairwell in the entry and took me to a doorway just past the steps that had another stairwell going down. These stairs spiraled down to a dark room and at this point, I should have been apprehensive but I was still on a high from even being in his presence. He reached behind for my hand and I eagerly took it.

His hands were so soft! We stopped on the stairwell and he pushed my back against the wall and kissed me. He took his hands and slid them up and down my back as he gently dug his fingertips in. I was breathing heavily as our lips crushed into each other. I could feel myself being lifted in the stair well and pressed harder against the wall. I bit and played with his full bottom lip. This could have been my imagination but his lips and tongue tasted so sweet. I could feel my panties over flowing as he crushed me against the wall.

We continued this way only for a short time. As he let me down, he bit my neck. I had tears in my eyes because I was so engaged and I did not want to stop. We were only making out but it was exactly how I imagined it would be. His kisses were full of passion just like his music. There was nothing about this moment that was overrated.

We continued down the stair well and into his finished basement. There was a large oak bar on the left and a small theater on the right. The carpet was the standard cream color but it was plush. He took his shoes off so I followed suit before I crossed the room in the direction of the theater. I turned to face him as I paced backwards. He started to undress as he walked in my direction. His frame was beautiful and his skin was smooth. I slowed my pace so that he could have his chance to catch up to me and I would then have my chance to rub against him.

“Come here, girl,” he said with the same sexy smirk in all of his videos.

::sex me::

There’s something about the way you lean in and tenderly squeeze my thighs that makes my pussy drizzle. & how your lips brush against mine – like kissing without kissing.
My organ is throbbing with anticipation.
I’m aching for you to
kiss my eye lids &
ring my tongue with yours.
I need you to
nibble my neck
and cup my breasts.
Please,
grip my waist &
kiss my navel.
I’ll raise my hips
to meet your lips &
you’ll suck my clit
then lick the rim.
We’ll hum in unison
because the pleasure is mostly yours.
Hips bucking,
tongue fucking,
legs flexing & finger licking
& I don’t want to stop.

Random :6:

it’s 2:22 in the morning & I haven’t written a damn thing.
I’ve strongly considered it but started swiping instead.
then I thought about your pretty lips & thought about writing again.
but I continued swiping anyway.
your mouth is so pretty.
so pretty in fact I can see it going places.
but I swipe some more.
see twitter. Swipe.
see face book. Slide
see instagram. Repeat.
you again
and that
pretty
mouth.
so pretty in fact, that I started to write.

there’s a pit in my heart that has grown vines. the vines are restricting its beat but have not yet been able to stunt the love i am able to give. i’ve been wondering if love should hurt this much. if breathing should hurt this much. shouldn’t it be effortless? weren’t we created to love effortlessly and unconditionally? you make it hard. or is it me? maybe i should let go. but what do i do with this pit?