Ladies Listen Up Read online

  I couldn’t count the number of times since the wedding when I’d tossed and turned all night. The sick feeling I’d get just thinking that I’d seen her driving by. I missed her, and needed her, like I needed air to breathe.

  “Excuse me,” the voice said from behind me.

  I turned around and saw a sister standing there in a black strapless gown. She looked to be in her early forties, but only because as she stepped forward, I saw a bit of gray splashed in her short cut. I tried to focus on her face as I realized she was speaking to me, but it was hard. She had the most wonderful set of hips and her dress was cut as low as tastefulness would allow.

  “Yes,” I responded.

  “I know this is a weird request, but I was in the middle of a business call to my assistant, and just like that…the friggin’ battery on my cell died out. I was wondering if you have one that I could use for one minute. I’d gladly pay you. I just don’t have time to walk back in there to find a colleague. I’ve only a few minutes to relay some important information,” she said with a slight smile.

  I smiled back and reached to my hip to take my phone off the holster. “No problem, and the minutes are free right now, so don’t worry about paying me.” I laughed.

  “Thanks so much…”

  “Diego.”

  “I’m Jonetta. Jonetta Cleveland, but everyone calls me Jo,” she said as she extended her hand and then took my cell phone.

  “Okay, Jo.” She didn’t look like anyone’s Joe. When she turned I noticed that she had a real nice donkey on her.

  Not wanting to seem as though I didn’t trust her with the phone, I headed back to the window and she drifted casually a few feet back. I could hear her going into all-business tone and she even seemed a little angered at the person on the other end of the line. In less than two minutes she was at my side, handing me my phone.

  “Listen, Diego, I really appreciate this. If I hadn’t made that call…you just have no idea,” she said excitedly. Her demeanor seemed to calm. “The very least I can do, brother, is buy you a drink,” she insisted. I noticed her accent.

  “Where you from?”

  “That thick, huh?” she said. “Long Island, and before that Boston. What about you?”

  “I’m from here. Born and raised.”

  “A Washingtonian. Well, sir, how about that drink?”

  I shook my now-empty cup and said, “That would be lovely.”

  We headed off to the ballroom and stood in line as we tried to make some small talk over the music. Vivian Green was already finished and a DJ was providing the music.

  “Did you come alone?” Jo leaned in and asked.

  “Actually, I came with a couple of friends.”

  She nodded and the look on her face showed that wasn’t the answer she’d wanted.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Well, since these lines were so long, I was going to suggest that we walk back over to the bar at my hotel. I’m at the Renaissance over on Ninth. I was there last night for a glass of wine before bed. It was really nice and cozy. I’m not all that big on these big party thingies. Only here now because they are honoring my boss.”

  “I understand. I’m not all that big on crowds or hobnobbing either. I just really needed to get out tonight.”

  “Tough week?” she asked.

  “Tough month.”

  She laughed. “No, they didn’t just put on my jam.” Keith Sweat’s “Make It Last Forever” came through the speakers and she began to sway back and forth.

  I looked her up and down and tried to get a gauge on her. Was she offering me up or just trying to make a friend? Then I looked down and saw the rock on her finger. It had to be at least three carats. This woman was sophisticated and very much used to calling the shots, it seemed. I reasoned that if she wanted me, she would be more clear. Plus, I wasn’t really sure if I found her all that attractive. She was a nice-looking woman, but she reminded me more of someone’s aunt than a sistah I’d be trying to bang. She seemed sort of regal in her nature and that alone had me feeling compelled to give her more respect than I gave most women. The more I studied her, the less likely it seemed that she would be the type of woman who’d sleep with a man like myself. Someone whose swagger and actions screamed no strings attached at times and emotionally unavailable almost always.

  “C’mon,” I said, and led her to the dance floor.

  She was a good dancer and it became easy to forget that there were a few years between us—like fifteen probably. After we finished, a cut by Charlie Wilson came on and we danced right through. When the song ended I told her that I’d go have that drink if she still wanted to, but I needed to find my friends. She smiled and told me to meet her in the lobby.

  I found Jacob in much better spirits. He was drunk. Lee reluctantly agreed to give him a ride home. He needed to punch a clock, I was sure, but after a little coaxing, I was off.

  It was in the fifties, cool for September in the nation’s capital. As we walked Jo began to talk about her job. She worked as a senior editor for Johnson Publishing, doing work for Essence magazine. I was surprised when she told me that she’d been married for sixteen years and had a fourteen-year-old daughter.

  “A bottle of white Zinfandel, please. Diego, what are you drinking?”

  “I’m drinking Hennessy.”

  She looked at the waiter. “Bring the bottle, please, and put it on this card.”

  “The bottle? I won’t be drinking that much.”

  “You sure?”

  “Absolutely, and as a matter of fact, I think I’ll drink some wine with you. I have to drive home.”

  She nodded and the waiter was off.

  “So, Diego, tell me about yourself.”

  “Not much to tell. I’m a schoolteacher. I teach second grade.”

  “Here in D.C.?”

  “No, out in Prince George’s County.”

  “Isn’t that pretty much the same?” She laughed.

  “Believe it or not, nope. Every other school district around here gets paid better than PG County teachers.”

  “Well, why do you stay? Why not go to another county?”

  “Because…” I paused and thought about my answer. “I love my kids. I went to school here, my mom taught here in the county, and it’s rough for the kids. People think that because we’re not in the District that we don’t have the same problems as inner-city schools. In fact, oftentimes we got it worse.”

  “Have it worse.” She laughed as she corrected me. “Well, I commend you. I think we need more black men—more men, period—to teach the kids.”

  I nodded in agreement.

  We finished off the bottle of wine while I told her my stories about teaching. The triumphs and the horrors. She ordered a second bottle and I told her that she’d be drinking most of it herself. After making a bathroom run, I realized that I was drunk and she had to have been, too.

  As I walked back to the table she was fiddling with her phone. “Battery is still dead,” she hummed.

  “Well, you didn’t charge it.”

  “Sometimes, once it’s off awhile, it’ll come on by itself.”

  “So, do you need to make a call?” I offered my phone.

  “No, I was going to call home, but it’s okay really. My husband is probably sleeping by now anyway.”

  Her tone gave away a little something, some dissatisfaction maybe, but I didn’t want to pry. “Well, maybe you should go up to your room and call. I can wait here for you.”

  “You’re sweet, Diego,” she said, taking my hand in hers. Staring deeply into my eyes, she asked, “How old are you?”

  “Thirty.”

  She closed her eyes. “A baby, your whole life in front of you,” she said. Then she went on, and out of nowhere came “Diego, never fall in love and never get married.”

  I was shocked and leaned back.

  “You know, Diego, I don’t think I love my husband anymore. And I’m not sure if he still loves me.” I wasn’t sure where th
is was going, but I began to get the feeling that the wine was bringing this out of her. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.” She covered her mouth with her hands. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  “No, it’s fine. If you want to talk about it, I’ll listen.” For the second time that night, it seemed as if I was going to find escape from my own jacked-up life by listening to someone else’s miseries.

  After I assured her that I wanted her to talk, she confided that she was scared that her marriage was falling apart. She said that she’d lost respect for her husband over the last year. He’d lost his job in the computer field, where he’d been pulling in six figures, and had yet to rebound. Her problem was that he hadn’t accepted any offers for new positions because the salaries were too low, and on top of it all he was now saying that he wasn’t even sure he wanted to stay in that field. At this point he was thinking about opening up a sandwich shop in Manhattan. The bills were piling up and their savings had been dwindling. It had been too long without him bringing anything in and Jo was growing tired of carrying the load.

  They were beginning to fight about money all the time. An hour passed and her eyes showed her pain and disappointment as she confided in me. Though she was a nice-looking woman, something in her voice and manner beyond the physical spoke to me while we sat talking in that booth in the Presidents’ Lounge. I realized that I had a purpose and a reason for meeting her. For the first time, a woman was telling me the reason behind the problem in her marriage, and for some reason, I felt compelled to help instead of trying to take advantage. I told her everything that I imagined her husband was going through. “Jo, you probably have no idea how hard it is for a man to work and feel unfulfilled.”

  I explained to her that she needed to understand her husband’s reluctance to accept a job at which he felt underpaid and undervalued. “I’m living it every day. The only thing that keeps me showing up is the kids. And once I get to the point where they aren’t enough to keep me from being miserable, then I’ll have to leave, too.”

  I advised her to tell her husband that it was okay if he wanted to make a career change at forty, but just explain to him that she was tired and needed his help taking care of the finances before their savings disappeared completely. I then explained that a great way to do this and get what she wanted without attacking his manhood would be to simply make him believe that her biggest concern was to get behind him and support him. “I’m not trying to stereotype you, but it seems that black women don’t really understand how much we need their support. Especially if it means making yourselves uncomfortable. That’s not unconditional love. That’s ‘I’ll love you as long as you don’t make me uncomfortable,’ and that’s not right. Sounds like that man lost his way when he lost that high-paying job. You weren’t hard to find when he was bringing home that cash.” I smiled at her. “You were at the mall.” I laughed. “Don’t be hard to find. Help him find his way or just stick by him while he does.”

  When I finished speaking there were tears welling up in the corners of her eyes.

  She loved my advice and began to say “thank you” over and over again. “You’re right. In fact, no one’s ever been more right, as far as I’m concerned.” She waved to the waiter. “I want to pay this, please,” she said, waving the small tray with the check when he came over.

  “You know, I’ve never been unfaithful to my husband. Not once since we’ve been married.”

  I don’t know why she said it at this point. We’d kissed in the elevator on the way up like two teenagers and now she was lying back on her bed with nothing but her bra on. She hadn’t worn panties with the dress. I didn’t reply because I didn’t know what to say. Congratulations, I thought.

  My shirt was now off and I slipped out of my pants to reveal my erection making a tent out of my underwear. “Mmm, wow,” she said. Even in the dark, she could see that I was blessed. “Let me see it.”

  I moved toward her and pulled my underwear down. She reached for it and began to caress it. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she whispered. She was still really tipsy. I was drunk, but still strong. My body was used to performing while drunk and I moved closer and pulled her head slightly toward my dick. “Kiss it.”

  She looked at me in shock. For a moment I thought I’d gone too far. This woman was classy and professional, and here I was, about to treat her like a whore. I really didn’t have another mode. Either I didn’t know how to make sweet love to a woman or I’d convinced myself long ago that women didn’t really want that. That shit was for the movies.

  To my surprise, Jo opened her mouth and took me inside. Her mouth felt good the second she began to suck. When she began to use her tongue on the tip, a shiver went up my spine. I wanted to lie on my back. I said, “Hold up.” Before I could climb on the bed, she stopped me.

  “Do you have a condom?”

  “Of course,” I said calmly, and reached into my pants and grabbed my wallet. I pulled two Lifestyles out and climbed onto the bed. Jo guided me onto my back and dove right back to feasting on me. I could make out her face in the bit of light that crept in through the curtains. She had gotten sexier as the night’d gone on. Her skin was the color of light chocolate and her short hair felt like silk as I ran my hands across it. Her mouth fit my penis like a glove. Any bigger and I imagined she wouldn’t have been able to fit it inside.

  Now she was on her hands and knees. I thought about our evening and all that we’d shared up to this point. How it always led to this.

  “You like that?”

  “Oh yeah,” I responded. She gripped it tight and flicked her tongue over the tip and then massaged the head with her wet lips. “Don’t stop.”

  She didn’t and I began to feel that tingle. I rode it out for a second or twenty. Feeling like I was going to shoot, I pushed her back. “Let me do you.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  I shook my head while I caught my breath. “Nothing, just not ready for you to make me cum yet.” She smiled. “Take your bra off and get on your back.”

  Kissing her stomach, I could taste the sweetness of her skin. The subtle scent of her lotion mixed in with the slight moisture on her belly made me want to lick her more. I caressed her thighs and rubbed the insides of them while I kissed her. Her skin was well cared for, soft like a baby’s. When I got a handful of her breast I was greeted with her thick, rock-hard nipples.

  I slid my body down hers and she whispered, “You don’t have to do that.”

  I ignored her and planted my lips on her midsection and slid right down into her pussy. “Ohhhh shit, uhh, uhhh,” she panted out. Her body jerked and she arched her back. “Yessss, ahhh yesssss.”

  She was really appreciating my art and I began to pull out all my tricks. I took my index finger and began to trace circles along the base of her vagina all the while sucking gently on her clit. When she moaned even louder I stuck that finger inside of her and pressed against the bottom wall of her pussy to open her up. More sucking and then I slipped two more fingers inside of her. I was surprised at how tight she was. For some reason, I expected a woman over forty to have a looser booty. “Oh, Diego. It feeeels sooo good.”

  I pulled her lips slightly with my teeth, and when I had her clit in my grasp I increased the flickering of my tongue. “Oh, bayybeee,” she screamed. “I about to…uhh…I…uhh, uhhh.” She let out one grunt after another as her hands dug into my scalp. Her legs wrapped around my shoulders, locking my face in her lap, and she came all over my face.

  She panted heavily as her body recoiled. Fine beads of sweat coated her. I reached for the condoms and slid one on. As I was about to enter her she tensed up. “Diego, I’m not sure…”

  I knew where it was headed. She was about to let the guilt overwhelm her. She knew she was wrong and this was the last chance for her to catch herself. If in fact she wasn’t lying about never having committed adultery, she was about to cross a line that she could never return from.

  I pretended I didn’t
hear her and slammed all nine inches of meat into her. “Owwww, ohhh shit,” she screamed. That was all she wrote. I banged her for thirty minutes straight. The liquor.

  I’m good for ten or fifteen minutes on the first round usually, but the cognac had my senses dulled. “I never…I’ve…never been fucked like this,” she said. I had her ass in the air as she rested with her face in the pillow. She came twice and never got dry.

  She climbed on top of me and humped me like a woman in heat. She leaned over sucking my nipples while reaching back to massage my balls. She was so horny that I was enjoying the show she put on. “Get on your back again.”

  She obliged, and when I entered her she began rubbing her breast with one hand and her pussy with the other. When it seemed as if she was about to have another orgasm, my own excitement took me over the edge and I began to fuck her harder until I tensed up and filled the condom with my sperm.

  Atlantic Star’s “Am I Dreaming?” was now playing on Majic 102.3 as I lay in her bed. She was sleeping soundly next to me. It was surreal. She had pleased me and I had done the same for her, yet I was in her bed now wide-awake, thinking about Alicia and my life.

  I left my information on a piece of paper and got dressed. It was almost 4 A.M. and I didn’t want her to feel awkward when the morning came. Once I made it to my car, I thought about the things I’d said to Jo. Then I wondered if she would actually take my advice, or if all the good I’d set out to do had once again been undone by a fuck.

  9

  After-school Special

  Jacob waited anxiously as the minutes ticked away at second period. He was halfway hoping Anna wouldn’t show up for class. She was never late for his class; his students knew he didn’t tolerate it. The circumstances were a little different today, though. It was Monday and the first day of school for students since she’d shown up at his door after the incident. At a quarter to ten he thought, Maybe she isn’t coming. Then, as he dimmed the lights and prepared to put in a videotape on music from the Harlem Renaissance, the door to his room opened.