husband

Poly In The Dark

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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

 

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Let’s not get complicated

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He told me that he wanted to be friends, nothing too serious, just kick it for a bit. I gladly obliged because I told myself that I wasn’t ready to be in anything complicated. We decided to meet up at Red Rooster in Harlem for some drinks. We met up and talked and shortly after decided to head downstairs to Ms. Ginny’s Supper Club. This man is the type of guy that can charm the panties off of you. He oozed sex appeal from his well groomed face, his built body, his tailored suit, and intoxicating fragrance. I was being bewitched by his swag with no protest. I played it cool, not giving him any indication that he had me. Sporadically he would check his phone and excuse himself to take phone calls. In fact, at one point, he left me for more than thirty minutes. If he weren’t so fine, I would have left his rude behind at the restaurant but I overlooked his un-gentleman like behavior. When he returned to the table, he ordered another round of cocktails before we agreed to head back to his loft in Tribeca. The angel on my left shoulder said, “Take your behind home. You know this is going to result in you having regrets in the morning.” On the other hand, the devil on my right shoulder said, “Girl you deserve to get your needs met, look at his lips, they look like they can work magic.”

We jumped in his Benz, parked outside of the restaurant and drove to his sanctuary. When I walked into his place, I took off my shoes and suddenly my body was lifted in mid-air. He hoisted me upon his shoulders and began to inhale my scent, as though he were sniffing a freshly picked rose. My head tilted back in gratification as I waited for his next move. When he carried me into his room, the candles and music took my mind and body to a far away enchantment. I was held captive until he had his way with every inch of my pulsating body. We made music with our bodies until my pelvic bone ached. His lips searched my body, until he discovered the way to make my vocals tremble. I closed my eyes when he went deep into my sea and dived slow and steady. This moment lasted as long as my climax would allow. When it was over, we spooned and dozed off in each others arms.

The morning after

I awoke to a sexy man in his birthday suit with his legs wrapped around me. I snuck out of the bed, as quiet as possible. I decided it wasn’t necessary to awake him and opt for leaving a note on his nightstand. In my mind, I had to leave quickly, last night was too good and I did not want to start catching feelings. Besides, men do it to woman all the time. They are the ones that can have sex and refrain from getting emotionally attached. I felt guilty for leaving that way but shrugged it off immediately. I reminded myself that I didn’t owe him an explanation, this is not meant to be complicated; it’s meant to be casual sex. He called me and was obviously very upset. Thought he did not ask why I left without saying goodbye, I knew he was angry. I ignored his little attitude and offered to take him to dinner the following day.

As the months went on, we became inseparable. The closer we became, the more I saw a future for us. I found myself falling deeply for him and wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. However, after six months of dating, I ended it. I realized that I had not fully healed from my last relationship. It was unfair to string him along and act as though I were ready for this committed relationship. When he was ready, mentally I was not. It was so hard for me to escape the unhealthy thoughts that constantly plagued my mind. The hardest part was letting him go. Frankly speaking, he wasn’t the issue, my broken heart was. I allowed myself to be courted and pursued, even though, I knew I was not ready. I was selfish because although I was not ready for a relationship, I feared another woman having him. I had allowed things to get complicated.

Relationships are not for the faint of heart. To take on the responsibility of someone else heart and emotions is a HUGE responsibility. You have to put in what you want to get out. Before you say you want to be someone’s WOMAN or MAN. You first need to do an assessment of your heart and mind. Personally, when it was time for me to walk away from that relationship, it was the best decision I could have made. It felt great to be brutally honest with myself and stop people pleasing. It is unacceptable to toy with people’s emotions. It took me breaking someone’s heart to learn about my immaturity. Now that I am in a committed relationship, it feels completely different. This time around, I was ready for my man because I gave myself time to heal and work on me. He is now able to get 100% of me, not a fraction. Individuals have to give their hearts time to heal before bringing people into your life. If your wounds from a past relationship are still fresh, don’t get caught up in a relationship.

It would be unfair for your mate to feel as if, they have to constantly be compared to your ex. In fact, if you are still constantly bringing up your ex, maybe, just maybe, you are not completely over them. Never run into a new relationship before you are fully over the previous one. No one deserves to be a REBOUND. Ask yourself this question, how would you feel if you knew someone was using you as a rebound? Would that make you feel secure? Would you feel special? Exactly, you would feel used and hurt. My partner had his share of heartache but he does not crucify me for his former mate transgressions. We are building and forging a healthy and meaningful relationship. The bond that we are creating, nothing and no one can and will come between us; unless we allow them to.

So, when you look at the woman in the picture above, think of strength, endurance, maturity, determination, and contentment. It takes a strong woman to admit her faults and a stronger man to get her to follow his lead.

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

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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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