Brooklyn

Poly In The Dark

Posted on February 5, 2020 Updated on February 7, 2020

I sped down the stairs in an effort to avoid the voicemail picking up. By the time I reached the phone, it was too late. The voicemail picked up. I immediately hit the asterisk to avoid the voice projecting over the speaker. Jerod was asleep in our bedroom and though he was snoring loud enough that trees were probably being cut down, he was also a light sleeper. I walked into the den and closed the door gently before speaking. It was Mike and he wanted to ask if I was coming to his party at the new speakeasy. I told him I was having cramps and needed to rest. He was aware of how terrible my cramps were. He asked if I needed him to bring me some Alleve. I told him, not to worry but tomorrow we’d catch up. He asked was I sure, I didn’t need him and he would be more than willing to leave his party now and come rub my back. Damn! He gave the best back and booty rubs. No, thank you! He could sense something was off. I rushed off the phone and told him I was drowsy and wanted to go back and laydown. When he realized I was not going to let up, he said, “well…let me not keep you.” In a very snarky tone. I hung up the phone and walked into the kitchen to make some tea.

Jerod was a truck driver and his job would take him all over the country. Oftentimes, he’d be away for upwards of three weeks. I never planned on entertaining Mike but we grew close once I joined my neighborhood Cross Fit gym. He was one of the owners and quickly took a liking to me. He said there was something spectacular and exotic about Jamaican women. I ignored him because I was very happy at home. However, I grew lonely as Jay was away for weeks on end. I needed companionship. I never did anything sexual with Mike, he just liked to be dominated. Jerod was the dominant one in our relationship, so playing with Mike was fun.

I remember the first time I asked Mike if he would be interested in allowing me to dominate him. He, like most men, said you can do anything to me but the booty is off limits. No worries, I promised that I’d honor his request. It was on a Friday night; he came over after his last class at the gym. I told him to come sweaty, he chuckled. He told me, when I ordered him around it made him rock hard. See, he loved being dominated but didn’t know how to ask this of his previous lovers. He walked into the house smelling like Egyptian Musk. I could taste his sweat as it dripped off his biceps and cascaded down his arms. I told him to go upstairs but being a gentleman, he told me to lead the way. I walked in front of him, seductively as a Jezebel seducing her prey. He grabbed onto my waist beads, hoisted me into his arms and carried me into the master bedroom.

He gently placed me on the edge of my bed and began to get undressed. I became mesmerized by his delicious chocolate skin. I told him to lay on the floor and to not say another word. The only word I would allow would be our safe word, “Brooklyn”. I lifted his head off the floor and strapped on my blackout blindfold. He jumped, so I bent down close to his right ear and whispered, “don’t be a bitch! Be a good boy and play nice!” A grin formed on his face, making his dimples more pronounced. I grabbed my rope and told him to take my hand and use my body for support to stand. He obeyed like a good boy. I reassured him; he’d be rewarded for such good behavior. After I finished tying him up, I sat him down onto the pleasure chair. It had many parts, as this was the same chair Jay used on me. I allowed my whip to circle his back, then his legs, all the way to his now pulsating shaft. I found pleasure in seeing it ooze. The first lash was gentle but intensified greatly.

When my hands grew tired and the sweat blinded my vision, I paused to wipe away the wetness from my eyes. I told him he could release himself now and as a willing servant, he obliged. As his juices dripped from the edge of the seat, I began to untie him. Once no longer in submission, he stood, and reached for me. I jumped backwards. Did I give you permission to touch me? I will tell you when you can touch me. Today, you are not permitted. Were you not satisfied? Yes, he replied. Okay then, go rinse off in the shower. He wobbled to the bathroom, as his legs fell asleep from the hour-long session. We went about this for a few months. He knew I was hiding a secret but never asked the question. Why tell him I’m engaged. He was only a toy; my man was who had my heart.

I turned on the lights and grabbed the step stool from the pantry closet. When my right foot stepped onto the top step, I felt hands from behind hoist me into midair. His hands were firm and deliberate with their intentions. Jerod placed me on the edge of the counter. With lust filled eyes, he bent down on his knees, moved my silk robe to the right, licked his lips as he surveyed his mission. I tilted my head back, in a trance, almost unable to mask the moans. I belted out a loud cry, and tried to edge away, he locked my inner thighs more firmly. I couldn’t get lose from his grasp even if I wanted. I put my right hand on his silky bald head. He pulsated his tongue so magically, it felt like he wanted to massage my clit into submission. I gushed into his mouth, not clear as to what he was doing to my body. He moaned in perfect harmony; you would have thought he was the one experiencing this orgasmic realm. Before I knew it, he stood up, with his ripeness ready to enter. I felt him flip me over, with my knees now planted on the placemat.

He entered and I lost my breath for a brief moment. I yelled, “Daddy!” He replied, “Yes, Mama!” Be gentle. Please! He told me to shut up and be a good girl! I replied, “Yes, Sir!” Each stroke felt like a new tunnel was being drilled inside of me. It was surreal how large he was. My ovaries hated me days after each session. Before he released, he asked me where I wanted it. May I have a facial, please. He cupped my chin and made me kiss and taste all my juices first. His beard was fully coated, you could see it glistening. He pulled back from my lips, staring at me as if I was a prized possession. Then he painted my face like a masterpiece.

When he spoke, his words hit me as an unexpected jab. So, you want to tell me why you had to take the call down here instead of in the room? Before you speak, consider your words carefully. Don’t let this nice guy image fool you. Like I told you, I’m a Portsmouth dude, you can feed me your body, and food but never bullshit! You feel me?! As the last word left his lips, the doorbell rang. We locked eyes and the time stood still. Jerod narrowed his body as though he were going to make his way to the door. I put my hands up, blocked his step and hastened in front of him. As I sped towards the door, he grabbed my left arm, still sore from my tattoo the day prior. I screeched and saw white spots from the pain. All I knew was he opened the door and froze.

I made my way to the door and saw Mike standing there with a CVS bag. I stood there unable to speak, almost paralyzed in shock. Mike spoke first, “so this is why you didn’t want me to come over?!” I looked up at Jerod who was still standing there motionless. I feared what would happen next. Mike dropped the bag and stepped towards the top step. At this time, Jerod pushed me behind him and asked Mike to come in. Mike stood there in disbelief. Nah homie!! Who the hell are you? Jerod stood there in a mannequin form. I tried to speak but words seemed foreign.

Mike!!! I think its best you leave!

Mike, had rage in his eyes. Not until you give answers. At this time, I was unaware that Jerod had walked back into the house. All I know is, by the time I turned around, Jerod was running down the steps with his grey sweatpants, Lebron’s, Steelers hoodie and his pistol peeking out of his waist. Before I could close the door, Jerod gently moved me out the way and slammed the door behind him. My legs still wobbly from our session just minutes ago. Being unstable and his push was more forceful than he imagined. I got up from the floor, grabbed the door handle, and flung the door open. I saw Jerod and Mike about to square off. By this time, Ms. Roberts, the nosy neighbor from across the street was outside screaming. I leaped off the top step and fell poorly on my left ankle, which was still healing from surgery two months prior. The pain shot through my body like a bullet and I collapsed to the ground. Not again, Liz, get it together.

I jumped on Mike’s back and began clawing at his eyes. He pushed me off like a tick on a dog. I fell this time onto Jerod’s mustang. The alarm went off as soon as the thud of my body hit his hood. The alarm sound rang out like a smoke alarm to cooked bacon. It must have been 11:30pm by now, or so it seemed. Ms. Roberts ran over to my aid and asked if I was okay. I thanked her as she helped peel me off the hood like a wet leaf. I looked over and saw Jerod mounted on top of Mike and filling his body with blows. It looked like a Mortal Kombat scene; his hands were moving so fast. I swore I heard him say, “Hulk Smash” or maybe I was hearing things. I tried to pull Jerod off of Mike but as he planted each blow, blood flew in synchronized form. You could smell the blood, it was horrific. The final blow was so hard, his gun fell from his waist. Immediately, Ms. Roberts, screamed; “Duck! He has a Gun!!” I quickly retrieved the gun and made my way towards the steps. By the time I made it to the threshold, I heard the sirens. I ran up the steps, made it to my guest bedroom, squatted to the ground and found my safe. I punched in the code, placed the gun in the safe, locked it and ran back downstairs.

I walked out of the door and saw them restraining Jerod. Mike was apparently unconscious at this time. The paramedics were stabilizing Mike’s neck and asking Ms. Roberts if she knew his name. When she saw me, she pointed and said, ask her. One officer approached me, as the other officer put handcuffs on Jerod. I ignored what the officer said and made my way over to the other officer. Might I ask why you’ve placed handcuffs on my fiancee? Ma’am, your neighbor told me that this man beat up your significant other. Excuse me! Officer Alexander, is it? The man on the stretcher is the man who came to my home uninvited and threatened to shoot me. My fiancée is only doing what he felt would be best for our safety. All he knows is to protect those he loves. The same way he protected this county as a Marine for more than fifteen years. Please…PLEASE take off his handcuffs!

Ma’am, please step over here. Listen, the officer stated, “your neighbor said your fiancée had a gun and it went off and the bullet almost hit her. Now, from surveying the premises, I don’t see any evidence of this. Do you know why she would have reason to make such a bold accusation?” Though we have the right to bear arms in Virginia, they don’t condone reckless usage. I told him that Ms. Roberts has felt threatened by my fiancée as he is a black man who has an intimidating stature. She’s a Caucasian woman who is not fond of black people in particular. His eyes lit up, as if I touched a nerve. Listen, I know how to play the game and I was not going to let my man be subjected to the system. He served his country for more than 15 years; this is not how we repay him. Besides, it was my fault why all this bullshit was happening, I had to fix it. The officer told me to give him a few minutes so he could talk things over with his partner.

I stood there uncertain of the next step. I stared in the direction of Jerod and we locked eyes. He looked at me with such pain and regret. I motioned my lips, “baby, I am so sorry!” He shook his head as if he understood but it wasn’t enough to take away the embarrassment of having our neighbors peering their judgmental eyes at him. He had prided himself on never being arrested, considering how and where he grew up. It was my fault. Tears filled my eyes as they removed the cuffs from his hands. They talked to him for a while and before they got into their car, the officer looked at me then to Jerod. He said, loud enough for Ms. Roberts to hear, “thank you for your service.” Coincidently, tomorrow was Veteran’s Day. Jerod walked pass me, my hand slipped off his arm, as I tried to touch him. I looked at him walk into the house and into the kitchen. I turned around only to see Ms. Roberts closing her front door. I stood in the cold, feeling the brisk wind from the night graze my cheeks. It was then that I realized, all this time, my robe was open and my nipples were hardened by the cold of night. I walked begrudgingly up the steps, unable to fathom what awaited me behind those doors. I locked the front door and as I turned around my lips found his chest. I looked up at his massive 6’4 stature and felt the tears drop onto my forehead.

Before I could say a word, he grabbed my right arm and led me into the living room. I tried to flip the light switch on but his long legs were rushing me into the pitch-black room, at the same time my right knee hit the edge of my wooden coffee table. He sat me across from him on my vintage plush purple accent chair. In an effort to divert his attention, I rubbed my knees aggressively. The whole time trying to avoid making eye contact. It was dark but I could see right into his soul. He got up in such haste, I jumped as if I thought he would hit me. He went to turn on the lamp closest to the love seat. He walked over and sat between my legs. He angled the chair so my face could be within direct light.

We stared into each other’s eyes for a while. He put his head in his hands and began to rock back and forth. I pushed my chair slowly away from him but the legs made a loud screech as it rubbed against the hardwood. He flung his head up now with a devious stare. Are you shitting me? You’re seriously trying to edge away from me. He stood up and began pacing the room. The next thing I knew, the vase with roses he bought me last night was being smashed onto the glass coffee table. The water hit the side of my face, and shards of glass coated my left leg like stabbing needles. He stormed out of the room and walked out of the front door. I heard his engine rev and his tires howl out the driveway. I tip-toed over the glass on the floor and walked as fast as I could to the window. I could only see the tail of his vehicle as it turned onto Jefferson Avenue. I stood at the window until I heard his ringtone playing in the foyer. I made my way to my bag to retrieve my phone. I saw the caller id read, “Beloved”, I answered and heard heavy breathing. He yelled, “I’m not coming home tonight! Matter Fact, “THE WEDDING IS OFF!”. Before I could say a word, he hung up. I called him back to back, eight times in total. The final call I received the message of death, “Message 2391, the Verizon subscriber you are trying to reach is not receiving calls.” I was blocked!

Stay tuned for Part II

This entry was posted in Relationship Topics and tagged atlanta, blackwomen, Blogger, Blogging, book, Brooklyn, coourtship, courting, dating, deceit, Deception, director, engaged, engagement, georgia, hire me, husband, infidelity, Jamaican, Jamaican woman, journal, journalist, Lies, Man, marriage, married, me, men, millionnaire, movie, movies, newyork, newyorkcity, norfolk, novel, polyamorous, portsmouth, producer, published, publishedauthor, publisher, relationships, screenwriter, single, singles, Travel, Truth, TylerPerry, Virginia, virginiabeach, Wife, Woman, women, womeninbusiness, womenwriters, Writer, writing.

While You Were Away

Posted on March 12, 2017 Updated on March 13, 2017

The morning after…

I woke up parched but water wasn’t what I craved. The thing I thirst was laying across town in his bed, wondering if and when I would take him up on his offer. Blake opened up Pandora’s box and I wasn’t sure if I had the will-power to close the door. I laid in my bed, next to my fiancée, fantasizing about how soft his lips were. I found myself feeling stimulated all over from the idea of one more taste of his kiss. As I turned to the side, in an attempt to crawl out of bed, without awakening Shawn, something sharp stabbed my side. Ouch!! I yelled out at the top of my lungs, in the most dramatic way. Shawn moved around a bit but didn’t wake from his slumber.

I guess this is my punishment for trying to sneak out the room to send sexy pictures to another man. I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and disconnected it from the charger. Once again, I thought the sound would wake Shawn but to my surprise, he slept through it all. I tip-toed out of the bedroom, stubbed my pinky toe on the file cabinet we had right across from the sofa. I wanted to avoid turning on the lights, so I felt my way through the darkness until I found the love seat. Once I was no longer within earshot of Shawn, I sat down and put my foot up on the ottoman. I unlocked my phone in a haste, using with my fingerprint, a new feature I activated last night. I guess if I was going to commit to stepping out on my man, I better be careful and use as many precautionary measures. My phone opened to three new text messages and all from Blake; whose name was saved as “Elizabeth”. The first text read, “when are you going to finish me off?” The other texts were so steamy, I had to delete them but not before I sent both to my email. My virgin eyes were scarred for all the right reasons.

I sent him a text with some available days when I knew I wouldn’t be in court. I had a trial approaching and I wanted to be sure that my availability was concrete, to avoid the need to reschedule. Coincidentally, my available days coincides with the days Shawn is slated to be in New York. We texted for about an hour and would have continued but I heard Shawn opening the bedroom door. I quickly hid the phone under my butt and pretended to be asleep. Though, it seemed odd for me not to be in the bed, I am sure he expected to find me in the restroom, not (pretending to be) asleep in the love seat. Fortunately, I turned off my volume earlier, for this very reason. You never want to get caught, not if you can avoid it.

Surprisingly, he went directly into the bathroom without acknowledging my presence. When he came out, he called me, finally he stood right over me and scooped me up into his arms. I did my good ole’ acting and jumped up, pretending to be surprised by this Hercules act. My acting was definitely Oscar worthy. He asked what I was doing in the living room, so I made up a lie about how my IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome), was acting up and how I wanted to avoid potentially waking him, with my frequent visits to the restroom. Check mate. Little did he know, t-minus five minutes ago, I was sending X-rated pictures to his boy. Ha-ha. What a savage beast I am. The fact that he bought it, showed how skilled I was at lying. He ushered me back to bed and we had a quick session before we both fell asleep.

I was excited for his promotion and how it would allow for Blake and I to have some fun. A part of me felt guilty for agreeing to fool around with his boy but the other part of me was numb. I went as far as contacting my friend Kay, a realtor in Brooklyn, to help with finding his short-term rental. She waived the broker’s fee, took the application fee and security deposit through Venmo. All Shawn needed to do was view the space, sign the month-t0-month agreement and collect the keys. The rest was a done deal. I just needed to get through the next couple of days with Shawn, then Blake and I could commence with our plan.

The day before…

I did what any fiancée would do in a time of celebration. I cooked his favorite lamb and curry dish with sautéed spinach and my famous mashed potatoes. I went to Whole Foods on P. St, in Northwest DC. As I walked down the aisle to pick up his favorite Kale Chips, at a glance, I saw a tall man cross my aisle, that resembled this hottie from my spin class. I dropped the container of Brad’s Crunchy Kale Chips into my hand basket and proceeded to walk towards the end of the aisle. As I approached the end of the aisle, I slipped and would have fallen, had it not been for muscular arms bracing my fall. As I guessed, it was the sexy guy from my spin class.

“Jen?!”

Hi! Trying to remembering his name but drawing a blank. Thank you for preventing me from losing all my cool points and possibly getting a concussion. Ha-ha

“No problem. I spotted you as I was passing the aisle. I wasn’t sure if you were by yourself, so I kept walking. Then I thought to myself, if you noticed me, how rude it would be for me to not come back and at least say, hi. Thankfully I did because it appears that you needed my help. Hahaha”

Yes, it appears so. Forgive me, I forgot your name.

“No worries. I’m Blake. I know you forgot my name because it’s so hard to pronounce and spell. Blame my mother.”

Oh. So, I’m dealing with a smart ass?! I see now. I love a good laugh and I def. deserve that. I know you’ve introduced yourself a couple of times after and before class. I suck with remembering names. Then again, I have no reason to commit your name to memory. You understand, don’t you?!

“Ouch. Yikes. That burned. Sorry if my joke was in any way offensive, as that was not my intent. I love to make people laugh and smile. Especially a beautiful lady as yourself. “

Oh no…forgive me. I was busting your chops. Sweetheart, I am quick with it. I thought you would catch onto my snarky remark. Trust me, we are good.

“Oh snap. Is that a little New York, I hear?”

Yes, you pick up quickly grasshopper. Ha-ha.

“Jokes. Really?! Now you sound ancient with that ‘Karate Kid’ reference. “

You know what?! I’m going to let you live because you clearly have no respect for your elders.

“Jen. I am really enjoying this banter. But, instead of blocking the chips aisle, what’s say we finish up our chat over a drink? I know this really cool bar/lounge in the neighborhood by the name of, Wisdom. I am offering to pay for your Juno, drive you, or carry you on my back. What will it be?”

That’s very sweet of you and I am really flattered. However, I am headed home to cook dinner for my fiancée.

“Oh. I can’t say that I’m surprised that you are involved. My offer was purely harmless. I only wish to continue talking with you. Unless you are afraid to be alone with me?”

You’re right. A quick drink would be nice. What’s the cross streets? I’ll meet you there.

“See you in twenty.”

I quickly loaded my trunk with the grocery bags and warmed up my car a bit. As I was about to pull out of my parking spot, a call came up and the name on my console, read Shawn Lew. I put the car in park and answered, trying not to sound guilty. I don’t know why I felt guilt, as if I had done something inappropriate.

“Hey Babe!”

What’s good Ma?!

“Nothing, Son!”

How’s your day going?

“I’m good. Headed home to make Massa’s food.”

You’re a fool! Okay, that’s what I like to hear. Make sure you’re wearing little to nothing when I walk through that door.

“Your wish is my command, Daddy!”

This is why I love you! Oh, and the fact that you can cook your ass off. I’m getting off a little early so, expect me around 7:30 instead of 8:30pm. Cool?!

“Oh, okay. I was actually headed to grab a quick drink with a gym buddy. I may not be ready with dinner for 7:30 but I will try.”

What friend?

“She’s from my spin class. We just bumped into each other in Whole Foods.”

Okay. Sounds fun. As a matter of fact, my old college roomie hit me up on Facebook. He is supposed to let me know if he has time to grab a drink this week. I may take him up on his offer since you are running behind. I’ll keep you posted on my whereabouts.

“Nice. See you later, Sexy!”

I pulled out of the parking lot and when I pulled up to the lounge, there was a spot directly in front. I had enough time to retouch my makeup and spray a splash of perfume. My favorite go-to lipstick, Ruby Woo, by MAC, is always a hit. I walked up to the door and almost turned back around. Everything inside of me told me not to go inside. I already lied to Shawn that I was meeting a female friend. I felt horrible. As I walked through the door, my eyes surveyed the room until they landed on Blake. He was sitting in the corner, off to the side, almost hidden in the cut. He had on a Black fitted button down shirt, and two buttons were undone, enough to show the some muscles. I tried to control my sexual urge to jump his bones. Damn, I am so weak for a chocolate fine ass man with muscles. Not to mention, he’s 6’4, with massive hands. Oh my!

I walked slowly to the table and as he saw me approaching, he stood up. We drank and talked for what felt like twenty minutes but it was really an hour. When I felt my phone vibrating next to me, I knew it was Shawn. I excused myself to the restroom and answered my phone before it went to voicemail. Shawn had gotten off the metro, literally around the corner from the bar. Of course, he had no idea that I was here. He told me that he was going to meet his buddy and a lady friend he bumped into at the grocery store. I asked him which bar, and like lethal injection, I was stunned when he said; Wisdom. I almost dropped my phone.

He asked if I wanted to join them, now that he realized his buddy had a lady friend present. He wanted to avoid being the third wheel, let alone, run the risk of one of my friends reporting back that they saw him out with a guy and a girl. What did you say, your friend’s name was? His name is Blake, sweetheart. He begged me to join them but I declined. I agreed to pick him up in thirty minutes, as he also informed me that he left his car keys at work and had no way of getting home. The weather was brutal and Shawn was a pre-Madonna, when it came to walking in the snow. He felt that the salt that’s used to thaw the ice, eats away at the stitching of his fine Italian leather shoes. I digress.

As I was trying to rush off the phone, he became silent on his end. He starts laughing and said, you wouldn’t believe it, but there’s a car that looks exactly like yours but cleaner. He was unaware that earlier in the day, I stopped off to get my car washed. We ended the call with me agreeing to call him once I was outside. I panicked because now that I knew he was outside, how do I wrap up my conversation with Blake and rush the hell out without being caught. I opened the bathroom door and quickly slammed it. My eyes did not just see what I thought I saw. No frigging way! Shawn and Blake were chatting at the table. I prayed that there were two Blake’s and that the man I spent the last hour flirting with, couldn’t be the same man my man was meeting.

I am so lucky that I kept my jacket on, due to the lounge having poor heating. I sent a text to Blake, hoping that he would read it and be discreet. I told him that the man he was talking to was my fiancée and I needed to sneak out, as I did not want to make things any more awkward than they already were. I snuck out the side exit, the one directly across from the bathroom. I got in my car and rushed to the wine shop, Bed-Vyne, to pick up a bottle of red and white wine. By the time, I headed back to the bar, I called Shawn but his phone rang out. I called him three more times and he didn’t answer. Finally, I doubled parked and ran inside, trying to compose myself for this very weird meet and greet. Blake saw me approaching but unlike earlier, he did not get up. He looked in my direction and went back to focusing on whatever Shawn was rambling about.

I tapped Shawn on the shoulder, Blake looked at my hands on his coat. His eyes stayed there as if the sight of me touching my man paralyzed him. Shawn turned around and stood up quickly. He gave me a quick peck on the lips and said, “Blake, meet my lovely fiancée, Jennifer.” Blake shook my hand with such fervor and force that it left my pinky finger sore. It was obvious that Blake read my text and now seeing us together, something shifted. He kept his cool and told me how nice it was to meet me. All I could think about was how his hands were caressing my thighs under the table earlier. How we spent ten minutes before that call making out at the table, without a care in the world. Now, as I stand there, like a complete stranger, it actually gave me a rush.

Honey, we really need to run as I am double parked outside. As I turned to walk away, Shawn grabbed my arm. It was then that I learned that he had invited Blake over for dinner. He went on about how it would be nice to catch up over dinner. Blake broke his silence and said, he would have invited his lady friend but she rushed out a few minutes ago, to tend to a personal matter. Oh, this m’fer was savage. He was anything but subtle in his remark. His “lady friend.” This man was going to be a handful but lucky for me, I have big hands. I grinned and smiled and told them I’d wait in the car so they could satisfy their tab.

I walked back to my car and subconsciously locked the doors to clear my mind. My trance was interrupted by the tapping on the window. I unlocked the car doors and dreaded agreeing to having Blake as our dinner guest. However, how could I not be enthusiastic? This is a man that I am not supposed to know. I tuned out their conversation and replayed the discussion I had with Blake in my head. I guess I was unaware of my speeding until Shawn tapped my leg. Jen, now is not the time to be a speed demon. “Yes, honey.”

I left them to unload the car and after dinner was done, we all retired to living room. Shawn and I sat on the chaise, while Blake chilled on the sofa. We all enjoyed the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc until it was completed finished. It was at this time that Shawn excused himself to the restroom. As soon as Blake heard the bathroom door lock, he came to the chaise and started making out. I felt as if I were having an out of body experience. I couldn’t believe my boldness, and arrogance, yet it was an exhilarating feeling. I enjoyed being so daring, especially when you realize that you can be caught but you realized, you are getting away with it. That is the ultimate rush. I decided to tune out my morals and give in to my wild side. Basically, I sat there under his spell, unable to move, not wanting to move. I drank his kisses as if my body needed them for sustenance. I almost didn’t hear when Shawn opened the bathroom door. He walked into the bedroom, maybe to change his clothes.

Now that we had more time, I mounted his lap. I grind on him, like a teenager trying to sneak around while my parents are in the other room. I was so turned on that I made a mess though my undies onto his jeans. Neither of us noticed until he pulled my hair to gain my focus on what I was causing to rise in his jeans. I stopped and slowly dismounted his lap. As I did, he pointed out the stain on his denim. I quickly got the wash cloth and began cleaning him up. He kissed my forehead and whispered, “good girl”, before he slapped my butt and sent me back to my cleaning duties. Moments later, Shawn re-entered the room and turned on Sports Center. It was the final quarter of the Cavs and Bulls game. I left the room to go and get ready for bed. <To be continued>

This entry was posted in Relationship Topics and tagged Blogger, bloggers, Blogging, Boy, Brooklyn, Caribbean, cheat, Cheaters, cheating, Chicago, commitment, committ, Committed, dating, District of Columbia, fitness, gender, Girl, gym, Infatuation, infidelity, Jamaica, Jamaican, laugh, Laughter, Lies, love, lover, loving, Lust, men, nevada, New York, Relationship, relationships, Truth, Truthful, vegas, Virginia, West Indian, women.

Double Standards

Posted on June 22, 2015 Updated on June 22, 2015

June 20th was a warm day in Brooklyn, when I woke I found myself in a pool of sweat. The room was humid, you almost felt as though you could slice the air like pie. I was rudely awaken from my dream by my obnoxiously loud ringer. I wanted desperately to go back to my dream that involved me marrying Idris Elba. We were about to consummate our union, when the phone disturbed me. Oh well, it was a dream, so nothing to get excited about, thought it felt so real. When I moved my mask from my eyes and grabbed my phone resting on the nightstand, I saw the name and sent the call to voicemail. I know that’s a douche bag move but he wasn’t deserving of an answer.

He called about ten times back to back before I put my phone on silent. I stumbled out of the bed and realized my legs and arms were sore. I don’t recall the woman getting that many swings in but hey, such is life. I walked over to the window in a snail like motion. My head hurt from being hungover and my body ached from fighting. Sadly enough, I had no idea who this woman was, all I knew was she was booed up in a corner with Robert when we walked into Brooklyn Moon. I opened the window and heard the ice cream truck making its way down my block. I was tempted to run down the stairs and get me a cone but was too achy. I felt dehydrated, so I made my way to my kitchen.

When I walked into the kitchen, it was obvious that I brought some of that anger home with me. It looked like I had a fight with my kitchen. The week old bouquet of roses, which was his attempt to get back in my good graces, after I caught him with a woman, two weeks prior, were now on the floor, with the broken vase in a puddle of water. The roses lay on the floor, as dead as our relationship. I looked at my window and beneath the windowsill, laid my once mounted wine rack, and the wine bottles were at the base of the stove, thankfully unbroken. I had way too much Tequila last night. What was I thinking?! Ugh…I should had never let my boy Starrtender convince me to try his new concoction, when I stopped by Milk River. He sure knows how to make a drink. He is so darn heavy handed with his drinks though. Sigh! I surveyed my kitchen and was in shock as to the condition. I began cleaning up but was stopped suddenly by a glass that suddenly pierced my foot. Now I have to deal with a cut under my feet and blood staining my floor.

After I cleaned up the kitchen, I hobbled my now bandage foot into my living room. When I walked into my living room, I saw my home girl Naadira, passed out on my carpet, fully dressed and her “ruby woo” lips, nicely smeared on my cream color carpet. I yelled in the highest octave “Naadira, Get UP!!!” She did not budge. I walked over and nudged her with my feet. “Naadira. Get up babe!” She opened her eyes, like this was the first time she saw the light of day. I was a prick, so I walked over to my drapes and pulled them back, letting in all the BRIGHT sunlight. She sucked her teeth, like a true Trini-woman and cussed me in under her breath, in her Trinidadian jargon.

“Michelle, where’s Paula?” I told her that last I remember, her man escorted her out of the lounge. She told me to check on her to make sure. When I called Paula, she seemed pissed. She began by scolding me about her disappointment in my actions last night. I tried to interrupt and defend myself but she shut me down each time. “Michelle, you are too grown for this kind of behavior. What were you thinking?! We are in our 40’s, you looked like an immature child unable to control herself. Fighting over a man that can’t keep his ding-a-ling in his pants. Stop making excuses for his actions and own the fact that you are taking crumbs from someone unable to give you more.” I was silent and took it all in because everything she said was true. I played myself and made a fool out of myself.

I’ve been with Rob for two years, and caught him cheating four times. The first time was with his second child’s mother. The times after were with women he met at the lounge he owns in BedStuy. I resented him for opening the business. I wanted to partner with him and he told me, that privilege was reserved for his wife. Those words pierced like a knife but I had no fight in me at the time. Although it was my $40,000, he needed in order to get his business up and running. His credit was so crappy so I did like what any good woman would do and gave him the money. I thought I was being a good woman but in actuality, I was foolish for prematurely giving money to someone not willing to give me his last name.

The times I caught Rob fooling around, was not by chance, I had help. One of the security guards that likes me would always send me pics of Rob in action with the caption, “Boys will be boys. When are you going to get with a real man?!” Whenever he sent me these text, I would rush to the lounge but as I got to the door, the other security guard would act like he forgot who I was. I learned that he did that in order to give Rob a heads up that I was there. He would have me wait at the door and go inside and obviously warn my man. By the time I walked in, most of the time, in sneakers, spandex, and a t-shirt, he would have cleaned up his act. I didn’t realize then how crazy I looked walking in there looking crazy, sometimes with my hair pulled back, only thing missing is vaseline on my face.

On May 25th, the disloyal guard wasn’t at the door. My insider was working the door that night and let me in with no issues. I walked in like a hound dog, searching every corner for my cheating behind man. Finally I spotted him, caught in the darkest part of the lounge, kissing on this female I knew from the beauty salon in Clinton Hills. She knew he had a girl but could care less. It turns out that I use to date her baby father, who I wound up cutting off. The vicious cycle is a bit more complex than you’d imagine. I broke up with her baby father to be with Rob, and he broke up with her to be with me. YES, karma is a biatch!!

That night I ran up on them, she saw me coming ahead of time. She got up and positioned herself ready to defend herself. Something within me told me to rush them, so I began running towards them. As I got within arms reach, she swung at me. I ducked, caught her with a right hook to the jaw. Her cheap, .99 cent gold hoop earrings, flew across the room and her head cocked to the right. I went to hit her again but she caught me in the stomach, guess I have to pay better attention in boxing class with my trainer Nay-Shaun. He always tells me that I have a strong jab but I am poor with blocking hits. Well, when I went to kick her, Rob grabbed me by the waist, threw me on his shoulder and hauled me towards the door. I kicked and fought, calling out all kinds of obscene words to her. She stood on the platform of the seated area, smirking at me and blowing kisses. I was so heated but there was nothing I could do as the six security guards held my arms and legs until I was outside of the lounge.

When we got outside, Rob hailed a taxi, gave the driver $30, and told me he’d see me in the morning. When I got in, I sent him a text so he knew I was safe. It was so odd but he was extremely calm. Not once did he look me in the eye, I could feel his embarrassment, shock, and anger. He arrived at 5 am, slammed the door and walked into the room, seemingly ready to argue. What happened next was something he had never done before. He dragged me out of the bed and pulled me into the living room. The living room was facing the back of the building and no one could hear my screams if he did anything to me there. It’s apparent that he was drunk and was not in his right mind. I screamed as loud as I could but no one came to my rescue. For the next ten times, though it felt like an hour; he beat me. I don’t mean the kind of beating that your parents give you. No, this beating was violent, it was laced with venom and his target was me.

After he grew tired of pounding my face and body with hits, he walked into the bathroom. As I laid on the floor, bleeding from my nose and mouth, all I could do was pray that he would not come back to beat on me some more. Moments later, I heard the shower running. I cried, screamed, but no one was there to hear my plea. At this point, my vision was blurry. I could not see through my black eye. Once he was done with his shower, he went in the room and began watching TV. Not once did he come back to check on me. He left me there on the floor, like a piece of garbage. I must have dozed off for three hours because once I awoke the clock, which was now on the floor, said 8am. The phone ringing was what stirred my slumber. I was sore, weak, and therefore; could not move. I listened for the caller-id to indicate who was calling me this early. I heard it blurt out, “Angela Bryan”, my mother was calling. I tried desperately to crawl as quick as possible to my desk. However, before I could answer, I heard Rob answer the phone in the bedroom, “Good morning! Hi Ms. Bryan! Yes, she’s good. No, she’s in the shower. I will have her call you as soon as she gets out. No problem. Have a great day beautiful!”. He hung up the phone, walked in the living room and said, “…”

Stayed tuned to Part II. Please follow this page for immediate updates on posts.

This entry was posted in Relationship Topics and tagged African, African American, American, Babies, baby mother, baby mothers, beat, beating, BedStuy, black, Boy, boyfriend, boys, Bronx, Brooklyn, brother, brotherhood, Child, Children, dates, dating, Doctor, ears, eyes, female, fight, fighting, fights, food, Fort Greene, friend, friends, friendship, Girl, Hair, Harlem, head, Hispanic, Jamaican, lounge, loyal, loyalty, male, Manhattan, marriage, married, men, nose, single, singlehood, sisterhood, Spanish, Teacher, Trinidad, Trinidadian, Wedding, White, women.

Can a Man Recover from his Woman Cheating on Him?- Part I “The Love is Gone and our relationship is dead”

Posted on November 17, 2013 Updated on November 17, 2013

As I sat in the therapist office, my eyes were fixed on the wallpaper. Julia went on and on about what led her to cheat on me. I decided to break my stare from the wallpaper and look in the direction of the therapist. I could not stare at Julia because I was utterly disgusted by her. Dr. Gyepi, sat in his chair jotting down notes, as if whatever he was writing was the antidote to repair our relationship. I only agreed to this therapy session because my mother convinced me to give it a try. Julia is lucky my mother likes her, most mothers would not encourage their sons to reconcile with a cheating fiancee. When it was my turn to speak, I took a deep breath but nothing came out. As I sat there, now looking at Julia, all I could see was Vince kissing on her neck and caressing her thighs. All my emotions resurfaced. I immediately stood up, thanked the doctor for his time and walked out. Before I could reach the elevator, the doctor was behind me. He escorted me to the lobby and asked for a few minutes of my time. He told me that he understood my frustration and disappointment in Julia. However, walking out at this stage, would not bring any resolution to our problem.

As we stood in the lobby and talked, I began to calm down. Shockingly, as I stood there, tightly clutching my fist, a stream of blood flowed onto my jeans. It wasn’t until he pointed it out, that I felt the immediate shock of pain shoot through my arm. The same pain that my body felt, when I caught my fiancee having sex with my cousin. I agreed to go back upstairs, as long as she did not interrupt me when I spoke. He promised me that he would “Manage” the appointment accordingly. We walked back into the room and found her on the phone. As she saw us, she told the caller that she’d call them back and whispered, “I love you too” to whomever was on the receiving end. Immediately, I thought she was on the phone with Vince. I brushed it off and sat down next to her. She scooted over, so she could be next to me but I told her that wasn’t necessary. I gathered my thoughts and asked if I could speak now? He informed Julia that she was not allowed to speak until I was finished. She obliged. I started off by sharing the day leading up to the event.

On the first Saturday in the month of July, I made arrangements to fly back early from a teaching conference in Texas. Delta was able to accommodate me and also waived my ticket change fee. Originally, I was suppose to land at Ronald Reagan International Airport at 1am. Luckily, I was successful in getting on a flight landing by 2pm. Since this was a surprise, I couldn’t have her pick me up, so I made arrangements to have a friend meet me. Everything worked out perfectly because I was able to get her the handbag, shoes, watch, and perfume she wanted. Now, all that was left was to pick up the bouquet of flowers from the florist. As I was on my way home, I sent her a text that read, “Hey babe, so sorry that I won’t be home to ring in your birthday with you. I know you must be disappointed but tomorrow I will make it up to you.” At this point, she still thinks that I am arriving at the usual time.

To my surprise, she did not text me back, which was really odd. Normally, when I send her a text, or vice versa, within minutes their is a response. I chalked it up to her sleeping, since she just did a 12 hour shift at the hospital. As a nurse, she does 12 hours straight for three days in a row. Lucky for me, the next four days she would be off, so we could spend some time planning our upcoming nuptials. I confess, I have not been as involved in the planning process but since we have only three months left, it’s crunch time. My cousin Vince has been very generous with funding the venue (including the food & liquor), paying for the entire bridal party tailored attire, as well as paying for our honeymoon. Vince is a businessman from Ghana, with a net worth of 12 million (USD). Whenever he is in town, he treats us to dinner and on occasion; he takes us shopping. Though I am not comfortable with this treatment, I never want to turn him down, it is perceived as being rude in my culture.

Vince and I grew up as best friends until I was 12 years old and my family decided to move to the United States. We grew apart and developed a competitive streak amongst each other. He started his own Investment Banking firm in Ghana and I became a Professor at a prestigious college. All in all, we are equally proud of each others success. His wife is a doctor and an amazing mother as well. No one could have suspected what was brewing between he and Julia. The betrayal by both of them is beyond words. I mean, he knows all about the “Guy Code”, you never break it! I could never bring myself to tell his wife that whenever he’s in town, he has a hooker to warm his bed every night. Or, that he impregnated one of the nurses at Julia’s job. Sadly, she miscarried at eight weeks into her pregnancy. No, I would never violate, loyalty is what I stand by.

I had Jason drop me off at the end of the block. I did not want to ruin the surprise by getting out in front of the house. I struggled up the block with my luggage, her gifts, and this gargantuan floral arrangement. I kept telling myself, it would be all worth it once her sweet luscious lips kiss me. So I pushed forward towards my home, until stopped by my nosy neighbor. Marsha was sitting in front of her home, smoking a Virginia Slim. I tried to walk faster because she is quite chatty. “Good Evening Jay! How was your trip? You look like you are struggling hunny?” All I could think about was, getting inside and seeing my woman. Hello Marsha! Good to see you. My trip was lovely. Yes, struggling a bit but I will be find, thank you! “So, why didn’t you have the guy in the black Lexus drop you off in front of your house? It seems very odd…but then again, I found it odd when your cousin went to your house today and you weren’t home.” Excuse me! What did you just say?

She pulled her nightgown tightly around her neck, in an effort not show the lack of clothing underneath. Not sure, why a grown woman would be outside with just a robe on. I digress! She asked me to walk closer, stating, “I don’t want no one to hear your business.” I quickly obliged, as I wondered what she meant by my cousin visiting my home. Marsha looked me in the eyes and said that Vince went to the house around 10 this morning and have not left since. She even pointed to his silver S-class Benz parked at the end of the next block. I did an about face and ran to my house. As I got through the front door, I dropped my things at the base of the stairs. I climbed the steps in an antelope kind of stride. Before I opened the door, I put my ear to it and listened. Through the music playing in the backdrop, I heard her moan in sexual bliss. I reached for the door handle and turned slowly.

Thank you for reading Part I of the III Part Series of Jay and Julia. Please stay tuned for Part II

Sincerely,

Khemeka B

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Knowing Your Worth- Part III “New Beginnings”

Posted on November 8, 2013 Updated on March 3, 2018

I am beginning to think that this was all too much for me to take on. He has refused to take the paternity test, as he believes that I could have been with anyone. The nerve of this man! After he knew he was my everything. I thought I knew Philip, the man whom was my lover, best friend, and now the father to my child. I refuse to be a single parent without the support of the father. Tiffany told me that I should leave it alone and move on. But how can I move on when my heart believes that he still loves me. Am I crazy? Was it all a lie? Did he really only view me as a side chick?

All of my friends told me that I should have abort my child. I honestly could not bring myself to do it, my child is a part of me. I fall asleep every night with my hand on my tummy, placed exactly where I can feel the heart beat. It is so tranquil, it makes me so proud to know that within me is a part of Philip and I growing in unison. Does that make me a fool for going forward with this pregnancy? I beg to differ. We were a unit; it will be well between us. After having two early labor scares, I mustered up the courage to call him again. It was the night of Valentines day, he sent my calls to voicemail twice. I dialed him once more and he picked up, sounding like he had smoke coming out of his ear. “What the hell do you want, you stupid idiot?!” Hello Philip, I understand your anger but we need to talk. I would like to speak with you tomorrow after you get out of the office. I know you frequent Buka on Fulton Street in Brooklyn on Wednesday’s to watch soccer. I must meet with you in person, this is very important. “Sheila, I have no interest in meeting you and even if I entertained that idea, I have plans tomorrow.” I would only require an hour of your time. “What time are you talking about? You know that I am a very busy man! Also, how do you know that I frequent Buka on Wednesdays?” Philip, that part is not important, can you meet me at 6 pm? “Ok.”

I arrived a little early, so I could calm my nerves and park in my usual spot. It’s been months since I’ve seen him. Who am I kidding, I mean, it’s been months since we have talked face to face. I see him each week, though he does not see me. I wait in my car and watch him go in and out of Buka. I don’t see anything wrong with watching him, it is not weird, though Tiffany begs to differ. I have even studied his schedule, to a science. He usually arrives at about 5:30 pm but he waits in his car until 6 pm. Once the parking meter rules are suspended at 6 pm, he heads into the restaurant. His dinner normally consists of, Jollof rice, chicken stew, sweet plantains, and a glass of Red Stripe. He has always loved Red Stripe, ever since we went to Jamaica on our one-year anniversary. I am so thankful for the bartender Pete that likes me, he always gives me the scoop. He is a nice guy but I am not attracted to Pete, I just use him for his information. Besides, what do I look like dating someone and I am a week away from giving birth. In any event, I reward him for his information by allowing him to give me foot rubs. He has a foot fetish, so I allow him to rub my feet on Saturdays as he fills me in on all that is going on with Philip.

Pete told me that Philip and his wife have been going through a lot. He said the wife has gone back to Nigeria and refuses to come back until he cleans up his act. Apparently, Philip has sowed his seeds with another woman by the name of Adeola. Adeola, is the woman that I saw in the car with him, the night I told him I was pregnant. She is one of the Senior Vice Presidents at his firm. In addition, it turns out that she is seven months pregnant. She decided to keep it, as per Pete, because Philip said he intends to leave his wife for her. I heard she looks miserable, and they normally end the night in a screaming match. I am furious that he impregnated another woman but who am I to judge.

Philip walked into the restaurant as if he had his own theme music playing in the background. He is so cocky but it is so sexy to me. He walked up to me and smirked, though I wanted a kiss, I was elated to see him. As soon as he sat down, a whiff of his fragrance hit me like a ton of bricks. Immediately, I inhaled Chanel Bleu and wanted his scent all over me. I gathered my thoughts and said, I want you there next week when I give birth, how do you feel about that? Surprisingly, he obliged and the following week, he was by my side as we welcomed our beautiful daughter Abeo Eva Adeoye on February 22nd. He stayed with me every night, though I knew he was uncomfortable, sleeping in that awkward hospital chair, but he never complained.

Abeo has her father’s eyes and lips. She has a beautiful spirit, she does not cry much and loves smiling. Indeed, she has become my version of heaven on earth. I find that I stare at her as she sleeps, as if I fear this is a dream and I could wake from it. Her father has been with her every single day. The only drawback is crazy behind Adeola. She has come by my home twice already and have keyed my Benz and given me two flat tires. Philip said she has a brother that works at the Police Station that can locate his car, via GPS, at any time. Therefore, she has been tormenting me for the past two weeks.

I decided that this night I was going to give her something to remember. I walked out the front door and asked her why she was on my property? Oh how I wish I never went outside. Let’s just say, I asked Philip to leave that night and decided to raise my child without his help. There was a reason why Philip didn’t want me to go outside. Apparently, Adeola is the sister to his wife, yes, his sister in law and they have been having an affair for the past two years. Wait, there is more, she is HIV Positive. She went on to explain that Philip is the man she contracted the disease from. The reason why she has been coming by is because her medical insurance does not fully cover her HIV meds. Philip is suppose to pay for half and he has not been answering her calls and she has grown desperate. That’s the reason why she turned to her brother (the cop) for assistance. As I stood there, I felt as if someone shot me in the heart. I felt a sense of relief for myself, but a tremendous sense of sadness for this woman who Philip has just ruined her life.

Thankfully, he did not give me the disease, as we ALWAYS used protection. I was so grateful that me and my child dodged a bullet. Here I was, lusting after a married man, who was HIV positive. It makes no sense but honestly, if I had not gone outside that night, I could have potentially become his next victim. It has been two years since I’ve seen or heard from Philip. I heard from Pete that he has lost a substantial amount of weight. Sadly, Adeola passed during child birth and her child died the day immediately following. When Pete told me the story, I could not help but cry. Both were victims to a heartless coward, who cared little about either of their lives. I am thankful that I had the courage to move on and allow myself to love again. I am engaged to a wonderful man who loves me as much as he loves my daughter, whom he has adopted. I learned so much from my relationship with Philip. There comes a time when you have to ask yourself, if you are running after this man, then who is running after you? I grew to know my worth and will not be second best to anyone, ever again.

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Knowing Your Worth- Part II “A woman scorned”

Posted on October 22, 2013 Updated on March 3, 2018

“Good Morning Honey! I made your favorite (Exeter) Corned Beef Sauce, Fried boiled plantains, Yam and Omolette”

“Good Morning Sheila! Why are you up so early? Its 6:00 am on a Saturday, are you ok?”

I am doing well my love but I had a hard time sleeping, your phone kept going off. Philip checks his phone that was stashed on the night stand. Sheila watched him scroll through his phone, waiting to see if his facial expressions would change. When he finally looked up he caught her eyes peering at him. When he realized she was expecting a response, he said, “Oh, it was my sistah. She is coming into town from Nigeria in two days with her children; you will finally get to meet her.” Deep down inside, Sheila knew that he could be lying but she ignored her “woman’s” intuition. So, she plated his breakfast she made and brought it to him as he laid in bed sending messages via “BBM.” As the day went on, she asked where his sister would be staying. He informed her that she would be staying at her friend’s home in Harlem. To her it seemed odd; clearly, if he wanted, she could have stayed with them. He convinced her that she had a friend that she went to boarding school with that would be hosting her while she visited. Obviously, he did not want her to stay with them, so she dropped the topic. The next day, Sheila had her yearly gynecology examination scheduled. As the doctor was performing the examination, he noticed something. He stopped in the middle of the exam and said, “I think we should take a pregnancy test.” Sheila agreed and after the test was complete, she was certain the test would reveal exactly what she expected. However, when the doctor told her that she was three months pregnant and that she should start taking prenatal pills, her face grew pale.

Due to her having a very playful relationship with her doctor, she thought it was a joke. She laughed at him and said, “Am I being punked?!” After the initial shock wore off, she headed home to get changed for dinner plans with Philip. On her way home, she called him to confirm that he was going to be on time. Philip obviously had issues with being punctual and tonight was not the night for him to be tardy. When she pulled into the restaurant parking lot, she noticed his car was already there. As she drove pass his car, looking for parking, she noticed that he was in the car with someone. Unaware of whom it might be, she continued in her search for parking. As she reached for her phone to call him, she reminded herself that she should not overreact. He is a friendly person, she reminded herself. He must be talking with an old friend, it must be harmless. He is a good man and he is in love with me. Once she could not find a parking spot, she drove to the parking lot across the street. Sheila decided to wait in the restaurant until the time they agreed to meet (30-minutes later). Before she could finish her second cup of sweet tea, he strolled in with a mischievous grin on his face.

She stood up to embrace him as he approached the table- boy does she love his scent; it’s hypnotic. It was enough to make her knees buckle and her palms sweaty. He knew the affect he had on her and the way she became powerless in his presence. He kissed her forehead gently, before sitting down and before he wet his lips with his drug of choice, a glass of white Hennessey. As he neared his last sip- she paused- then stated, “You are going to be a great father.” His face grew stiff, as if he had been struck by a taser gun. The look he gave her was that of disgust. He mumbled, “What did you say darling?” Sheila began crying and staring at him in despair. He quickly rose to his feet, place two crisp $100 bills on the table and walked out. As she sat at the table, all she could do was rock back and forth in her chair. Immediately, she was alone, left with her fears, tears, and now disappointment. It was more than thirty minutes before she could muster up the courage to leave the restaurant. She paid the bill and headed home. As she pulled into her driveway, she noticed that his car was parked out front.

The front door was left open, and once she stepped into the living room she noticed some of his clothes on the couch. On the counter laid the ring of keys she gave him for the garage, house, and mailbox. She walked pass the kitchen into the bathroom, where she found him gathering his grooming products. Where are you going my love? Philip looked at her and said words she never thought she would hear. “Where do you think I am going Sheila? Do you think we could continue in this manner for much longer? I am a married man; you know this was never meant to get complicated. Besides, my wife and children arrive tomorrow morning from Nigeria.” Sheila blurted out, “What!!! What did you just say?!! Your W-W-W-WIFE?! I thought you said your sistah was coming?!! You dirty, lying, sneaky, pathetic jerk!” Now, now, Sheila! You know I am married and my wife told me ALL about the conversation you two had months back. As she told you, I am not going to leave my family for some woman. Now, I suggest you do what is best and get rid of the child. Sheila picked up the blow dryer from the sink and swung and missed Philip’s head. Then she picked up the garbage pale but this time, she did not miss, as it connect with his head. As she stood there, unaware of what she had just done, crimson ran down his face.

Philip raised his hand and in a split second, he came to his senses. He yelled, “If you did not know it was over before, now you know it is over- You drew blood! Remember this face because this is the last you will EVER see it! If our paths should every cross again, I suggest you call the police. You and your baby are considered dead to me! I will never, and I repeat never, take care of you or your child!” Sheila felt her dinner coming up and she rushed to the bathroom to release the gall in her throat. Apparently she did not realize how long she stayed in the restroom. When she walked back into the living room, the harsh reality hit. Philip was gone and gone for good. The only thing he left was his scent and drops of blood on the countertop.

That night she balled out in emotional agony from her broken heart. The following week, she realized that she had a decision to make. Either have the baby or abort the growing fetus inside her. She opened up to a friend about her ordeal. Her friend told her the truth, which was hard to swallow but it was honest. In other words, her friend said, “That’s what you get for messing around with some other woman’s man!” Ouch! It hurt but that was the intent. Sheila got herself into this mess, and she needed to figure out how to get out of it. Her decision was to keep the baby, although her child may probably never know their father. As sad as that may appear, this is what happens when you put yourself in this type of situation.

Philip never called Sheila again. In fact, he changed all his numbers. He even went as far as to file for an order of protection. He claimed that Sheila had been stalking him and even went as far as bodily threats. He saved some of the text messages she sent him days after the breakup. Her text, “I am going to cut “it” off so your precious wife won’t be able to enjoy it. You will never be able to have pleasure again. I have more than that hit in the head waiting for you- I am going to be your worst nightmare- watch your back!” Well, due to the evidence, Sheila had to appear in court. When he saw her, you would have sworn he saw a ghost. He literally staggered in his tracks, as she walked into the courtroom. To his surprise, she was not charged with harassment. Due to Sheila being an attorney and knowing the judge. She was let go with nothing more than a slap on the wrist.

Even though, she despised him, seeing him again brought on mixed emotions. A part of her wanted to punch him in the face. The other part yearned to be held in his arms. All those emotions were quickly put to rest once she walked outside of the building. As she walked down the stairs, she saw them in the parking lot. There she was, a stunning caramel complexion woman, with a killer physique, standing outside of his Range Rover. The daughter jumped into her father’s arms, while the sons held their mothers hand. They were the picture-perfect family. The family she envied and almost destroyed. This was the first time Sheila felt any form of guilt for her actions. When she and Philip (played house) lived together, it was wonderful but she knew it was temporary. Whenever you are the second woman, you are always on borrowed time.

This entry was posted in Relationship Topics and tagged Africa, African, Anger, Angry, Beautiful, black, Blackberry, Boy, Brooklyn, Brown, cheating, Child, Children, commitment, Committed, Corn Beef, dating, deceit, Deception, Envious, Envy, Fat, Feud, Ghana, Girl, Harlem, Hate, Hater, Honesty, infidelity, Lagos, Liar, Lies, Man, marriage, men, Mistress, Money, New York, Nigeria, Nigerian, Phone, Phones, Plaintains, Pregnancy, Pregnant, Pretty, Queens, Rage, relationships, Scorned, Sex, Short, Slim, Tall, Text, Thick, Wedding, Wife, Woman, women, Yam, Yams.

Knowing Your Worth- Part I

Posted on October 13, 2013 Updated on March 3, 2018

Do you know your worth? Honestly, do you know when to walk away from a situation before you lose yourself?

These are questions everyone should ask themselves. Especially, if you are in a courtship that is going downhill. To be real frank, some people do not know how to walk away from a troublesome situation, in terms of dating. However, some times, when you are in what appears to be a meaningful relationship, you may not want to let go. When you begin dating, the newness is so addictive. You are engrossed in getting to know your potential mate. This is the time to learn their likes, dislikes, and crucial information that will dictate whether or not you continue the courtship. Ideally, it is suggested that you take your time and keep any sexual intimacy at bay. However, sometimes, you incorporate the sexual intimacy before you have commitment. Nowadays, most dating relationships start out with sex, then both parties decide if they want to commit to one another. This method is completely the wrong approach because as WOMEN, we cannot just have sex with a man and emotionally detach. Men on the other hand, they can have intimacy with multiple partners and keep their emotions in tact. Obviously, men and women are wired differently, no arguing that. Some women would argue that they can do what men do and be emotionally de-attached. However, Sheila tried this approach and wound up getting emotionally consumed to an unworthy gent.

Sheila met Philip while traveling out of town on business. He was an executive at a finance firm her law office worked with. Philip had key accounts in Africa and therefore had to travel often. He being Nigerian, was happy that some of his new clients were based in Ghana and Nigeria. It afforded him the time to see family back home. Philip is handsome and gainfully employed man with no children, at least that’s what he led her to believe; later you will learn about his double life. He being the oldest of his family was responsible for taking care of his mother after his father passed away five years prior. She admired this about him as she wants a man that is family oriented.

After three months of dating, Sheila decided that she wanted more. She fought the desire to be that kind of woman that demands a man commit to her but she was not keen to letting Philip slip through her fingers. In her mind, she felt it would be foolish to let “Mr. Right” pass her by. As their courtship progressed this awesome man became the torn in her flesh. The trips to Africa seemed to be more frequent than normal. He became unreachable, especially while visiting Nigeria. Sheila is normally a confident woman but began struggling with insecurities whenever he was in Nigeria. Normally when he is traveling, they Skype and speak on the phone at least twice a day. The last trip was different, very different.

At 11pm (Eastern Standard Time), Sheila dialed Philip while he was in Nigeria, which as 4am his time. When she hadn’t heard from him all day, she could not go to sleep without hearing his voice. There was nothing that could prepare her for who answered the phone on the receiving end. Let’s just say, it wasn’t Philip. The woman answered the phone with her voice very groggy. Sheila immediately hung up, believing she had dialed the wrong number by accident. When she called back and the same voice greeted her, she was tongue tied. The woman said, “Hello, who is this?” Sheila said, “I am looking for Philip.” The woman said, “Who might I ask is calling?” Sheila said, “This is his girlfriend calling from the States” The woman hung up the phone after a very long pause. Sheila was fueled with venom and called the number back repetitively but no one answered. She had a sleepless night and called out of work the next day. About midday Philip called her and sounded cheery and clueless as to what transpired the night before. When she confronted him of what happened, he laughed and said you must have dialed the wrong number. Oddly enough, Sheila fell for his excuse and left it alone. Literally, she convinced herself that she called the wrong number and made no mention of it again.

Philip returned from Nigeria the following week and all was well again in their relationship. Three months went by and he informed her that he had to go back home because his mother was ill. She thought nothing of it but requested that he agreed to call her daily. Of course he agreed, but he did not keep up to his end of the deal. He called her the first day he arrived but did not call her for two days straight. On day three, she called him at 1am (Eastern Standard Time), which is 6am his time and guess who answered his phone…yes, non other than the same woman. Sheila was not tongue tied this time around. She asked the woman, “Who is this and why are you answering my man’s phone?” The woman in her very thick Nigerian accent said, “What is this?! What do you mean your man’s phone? Why are you calling my husband’s phone?” Sheila said, “I am sorry Miss, I must have dialed the wrong number because I am trying to reach my boyfriend Philip and he is not married. The voice on the receiving end fell silent. She replied, “No my dear, you have the right number, Philip is my husband and he is the father to our 3 children”. He is sound asleep and I just happen to hear the phone going off as I am preparing breakfast. Sheila was silent for what felt like a decade.

The woman said, “Hello, are you still there”? Well, if you do not want to speak, let me speak to you plainly. I love my husband and he is a good father but I know that he has been stepping outside of our marriage. In our culture, it is (somewhat) condoned that men will have other women. It is not easy to accept but it is what it is. He has been careful to not bring this to my face but I see he has gotten sloppy. I cannot tell you to leave him alone, that is up to you to decide. However, he is not a man that would put a woman before his family. Therefore, I strongly advise you to reconsider your dealings with my husband. Again, the choice is yours but please respect me and not call my husband at these unforgiving hours again! The wife hung up the phone and that was the last time for the duration of Philip’s trip that she called him.

When he returned two weeks later, she picked him up from the airport. When they got to her place, she cooked dinner and made love to him. She literally went on as if nothing had changed. In fact, she never brought up the conversation she had with his wife. Some people would say that Sheila is a fool. Most would say that she is stupid with very low self-esteem. However, though all of those statements may be true, there is more to it. In her case, she does not know her worth or how to teach someone how to value her worth. Therefore, what she is willing to accept, who are we to judge.

This entry was posted in Relationship Topics and tagged Africa, Africans, Banker, Brooklyn, Cheater, cheating, Children, commitment, Committed, dating, Deception, Depression, Disappointed, disappointment, Executive, Failure, Ghana, Handsome, Hero, Heroic, Honesty, Intercourse, International, Intimacy, Kids, Laughter, Liar, Lies, Manhattan, men, Nigeria, Online, Phone, relationships, Sadness, Sex, Traveling, Truth, Truthful, Ugly, women.

Top 5 Reasons Why Men Cheat…drum roll

Posted on September 7, 2013

This post is something rather dear to me due to the severity of the topic. It has almost become the norm for men and women to have had someone betray them by cheating on them, while in a true to the end relationship. It is apparent that oftentimes, we are clueless as to why our partners cheat. Clearly, it is hard to accept that someone whom proclaims their love for you, would then turn around and do something to jeopardize everything you have established. Nonetheless, when the reality sets in, the questions come as well. For starters, we “women” would like to understand “Why Men Cheat?” The reasons are hard to accept but real.

No. 5: You’re not getting any

Ladies, how many times do I have to tell you to take care of your man in the bedroom? Are we still elementary in terms of sexually pleasing our mate? Ok, well here is a (not so friendly) reminder. If you don’t take care of home, then somebody else will! That is not a threat, it is a promise. Men, are not emotionally connected like we are. We “women” need to set the mood, want to light candles, put on your favorite (R.Kelly or Maxwell) song to get you in the mentally and emotionally ready. You need the sheets to be at least 600-800 thread count, so it feels smooth on your skin. Then you need just the right amount of (liquor courage) alcohol to heighten your freak-o-meter. However, men (not so emotional or complicated) need nothing more than you looking sexy and being clean, oh and yes, a bed, car, counter, washer machine, table…ah…you get the point. Now you understand how simply they are and you still don’t want to give him any? I’m not saying sex is the most important part of a relationship. But it is a big part, and that is what separates friendship from a romantic involvement. If you are not willing to satisfy your partner, trust me, he has a long list of eligible candidates, simply waiting for you to blow it. We are still in a recession (jobs & men) are low in supply. If you are in a emotionally fulfilling relationship but experiencing sexual inadequate, it is almost better for a man to be by himself or step outside of the relationship. Now, ladies it is not your fault if your man is unwilling to point out the areas in your sexual life that he finds unsatisfactory. Some men, find it hard to have a difficult conversation with their partner, due to fear of hurting their feelings by dishing the truth. In these cases, they find cheating an easier solution to the ongoing problem.

No. 4: You let yourself go

Sometimes in a long-term relationship, people let themselves go. Maybe you guys are shacking up in the house more and she gained a few EXTRA pounds. Or maybe she is slacking on keeping herself together. She stop dressing up, doing her hair, nails, and everything else in between. Men are not TOO concerned if you put on a LITTLE weight, however, if you put on 50 lbs in 6 months, now they may find it a bit of a challenge. You may wonder, how I feel since I am a curvy woman. Well, honestly, I think like a man, so I try to keep in perspective how men think. For example, we are human, so we are going to fluctuate in our weight at times. However, when you go from being a size 4 to a size 14 in 6 months, now that is a new person to your man. You may say, well my heart hasn’t changed? Ok, again, back to No.5, men are not emotionally wired. They are more on the logical side of thinking, which means, they are more visual. Therefore, if he met a size 4 and now you are a size 14 and he is really attracted to a 4, well, you do the math. It all boils down to familiarity. Men are oblivious and don’t notice the transition as it is occurring. Like, you know you have to remind your man that you have a new hair cut, new bag, or wearing a new outfit. They never notice these kind of things. It is not that they don’t care about us but these things matter to chicks, not dudes. However, as oblivious as they are, one day they wake up and don’t recognize the person they have been living with. When that happens, instead of saying “Babe, let’s workout together”. For some men, they find it more appealing to just chase tail. Rather than having a (fruitless) conversation about the real culprit (your weight/personal appearance).

No. 3: Do I still have it?

Yes, you know the type, takes off his wedding band before entering the bar. Although, we “single women” can spot the faded white line that his wedding band left, from across the room with our bionic eyes. He hangs by the bar with his bros, and his eyes wonder and waits for his chance to strike up conversation with a beautiful woman. He may even try to go as far as seeing if you would invite him over to your home later. All in hopes that someone would find him attractive and appealing enough. Everyone has a deep-seated need to feel wanted and attractive. It is not enough to know that your partner finds you to be attractive, nope, you want the public at large. A secure man may just want to have a casual flirt with the opposite sex, that may be enough to put a pep in his step. On the other hand, the insecure man, he needs to score in order to feel validated. If you combine the sexually deprived No.5 then cheating is bound to occur.

No. 2: She cheated on you

Fellas, if she cheated on you, then she has already emotionally checked out. Therefore, if you cheat on her, it won’t do much damage. I get you want her to feel the pain she inflicted on you but it is meaningless. Your best bet is to cut your losses and move on. When women cheat, it is due to emotionally being deprived. In addition, if you are not satisfying her in the bedroom, she may stray as well but not as often as a man would. We are not children, therefore, if she cheated, then you already lost her. When men are cheated on, they are not as forgiving as women are when they cheat on us. Men treat this as the ULTIMATE slap to their ego. They find it almost impossible to get over this hurdle. In many cases, they have a very hard time trusting their heart to another when it is shattered in this way. It is clearly a double standard, they can do unto us but we cannot do unto them.

No. 1: You don’t love her anymore

Yes, the #1 reason why men cheat, they fall out of love with you. It is hard to write but we have to respect when that time has come. It does not matter what you do, say, or how much you are willing to fight. When he is out of love, it is simply over. As a test, go and have sex with an ex lover you no longer have feelings for and tell me how it went. Was it everything you wanted and dreamed of? No, absolutely not, when emotions are removed, we are just two people shagging. Love is what we affix our emotions to in a relationship. When that is absent, then no longer is there a need to give our all. Such is the case when a man has decided to emotionally check out. Honestly, if a man has emotionally checked out it is best that he just end it instead of cheating. Frankly speaking, cheating is a sure sign of immaturity and cowardice behavior. If he cheats because he no longer loves you, then he is not deserving of you anyway.

Now you know some of the Top 5 reasons why men cheat. I am curious to hear your feedback- please leave a comment below and thanks for stopping by my page.

Best,

Khemeka B.

This entry was posted in Relationship Topics and tagged African, Beauty, black, Boy, Bronx, Brooklyn, Cheater, Cheaters, cheating, commitment, Condoms, Counseling, Counselor, Coward, Cowardice, dating, found, Freedom, Girl, High School, Hispanic, Honesty, infidelity, Jamaican, Jewish, kind, kind-hearted, lost, love, lover, loving, married, marrieds, men, Mexican, New York, Queens, School, single, singlehood, Staten Island, West Indian, White, women.

Lost & Found

Posted on August 24, 2013

I realize as human beings that we decide who we choose to give our hearts to. It is not easy to open up to others, especially when you are not certain how they will reciprocate. Oftentimes we search for quality people because in this world we live in, more often that we suspect, people don’t always have the best intentions. Though they appear as they are genuine, their true self always gets revealed. Moreover, we are not psychics so we are unable to decipher who will be the real deal. Realistically, we cannot live our lives without giving people a chance to show their true colors. It is inevitable for us to learn to accept people for who they are and then you must adjust accordingly.

Recently there was a shift in my life, a shift I did not foresee happening, nor did I plan for it. The shift felt more like a shove, a punch, a swift kick to the jaw. The pain was instant and the hurt was deeper than a sword being forced deep into your heart. The sword however, cut both ways, and the blood (which was the pain and disappointment) poured through me and spilled into every crevice of my life. Though on the outward it appeared as though I was fine, inwardly I was slowly decaying. At that moment in time, I lost something, someone, very close to me. I thought of ways to get back what I lost because to me, I prefer quality over quantity any day. Not to mention, the minuscule thing that brought about the dissension was not worth me risking the lost of someone that important to me.

However, it was not up to me to decide when the reconciliation should commence. It has to be something both parties wish to engage in. If either party is not willing to have closure, then trust me, it will not be resolved. In my efforts to reconcile, I realized that there was more bad than good. It was confusing to me that I kept this individual in my life for such a lengthy period of time. To add to, acceptance was painful because I had to accept that this person was not truthful about how they felt about me. One thing that I respect is honesty but I have no tolerance for phoniness. If you are for me, then “Hooray”, if you are not, then communicate what is bothering you. No one person is perfect, so it is obvious that you are going to say, do, or even act out in a way that may be deemed inappropriate.

Therefore, I can respect when someone who claims they (love you like a fat kid loves cake) tells you how something you are doing or done is affecting them; at whatever capacity. What I do not appreciate is when that individual chooses to hold things inside and when they (unleash the dragon) attack you by bringing up stuff that happened years prior. No matter how truthful the claim, it is not fair to the person on the receiving end to be confronted with past issues, that were never brought to their attention. Nonetheless, as I sat and listened to the verbal lashing, I wondered, how many times have I been around this person and never, NOT ONCE, did they mention their true feelings.

Inwardly sitting there and listening felt like a brutal attack. I heard things that I did that I forgot that I did and stuff too long ago to remember, so I had no recollection because unbeknownst to me, their had been an underlying issue. Needless to say, when it came time for me to defend myself, it fell on deaf ears. I learned a great deal from that situation and hopefully, someone out there in cyber world can learn from what I endured.

For starters, avoid the following…

1) Don’t wait years to bring up things you don’t particularly like about your friend.

2) Don’t act like everything is cool if in essence, it really is not.

3) Take ownership for your part in the situation and don’t get defensive. Well at least TRY not to be defensive

4) Listen very careful to what they are saying

5) Forgiveness does not mean you will go back to being friends

6) Respect how people handle things, even if you don’t agree with their approach (we are all human beings and we all deserve the same respect)

7) Don’t use social media to air your dirty laundry (you can’t bad mouth someone conducting a matter in a classy way but ratchetness is and will always land you in the Hall of Shame)

8) Being silent does not mean you are weak, it is a true reflection of your strength

9) Learn what it means to choose your friends wisely

Lastly, I shared what I lost and briefly I will share what I found. I found out that I was friends with an enemy for 5 years and did not know it. I found out that you can forgive and not hate. I learned that the best part of being me is having a loving heart. I found out that when I hurt, it hurts those closest to me. They hurt because I am not myself and I become a shell of who I truly am. Today I am wiser and stronger than I was 8 weeks ago. In time I trust that I will fully recover from this lost but today is a good day. My bruise hurt but it is what it is, a bruise, it is meant to hurt in order to connect with the pain. The pain is my friendly reminder to be more careful of who I let into my heart and life. Honestly speaking, I could never really hate someone that I loved in the way I loved that person. In other words, I love this person even to this day but I DISLIKE who they have become. For that reason, I release my anger so that I can heal.

Sincerely,

This entry was posted in Relationship Topics and tagged artist, Bedford Stuyvesant, black, bloggers, Bronx, Brooklyn, dating, disappointment, female, females, found, friends, friendship, frustration, Harlem, lianne Lahavas, Long Island, lost, love, lyrics, Manhattan, men, model, New York, New York City, Queens, reality, relationships, song, Staten Island, women.