Mocha Chocolate: Taste A Piece of Ecstasy Read online

  “I thought-,” Fawn couldn’t finish her thought as shame crawled up her back.

  “You did think, huh,” said Amir. “Still don’t trust me?”

  Fawn bit her lip to keep from crying. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so ashamed.”

  “Don’t be. It’s okay.” He touched her face with his hand. “You’ll always be my boo. No strings, no pressure, remember? I love you.” He leaned down and kissed her softly.

  “I love you, too,” she said.

  “I know,” he said, with a wicked grin. “So, you want to take a ride by Shirley’s and then to this little coffee shop downtown?”

  “Maybe later,” she said, with a wicked grin. “First, I want to take you inside and punish you for scaring me to death.”

  “His eyes darkened.

  “Punish me, huh?” he asked. “Do tell.”

  “No hands,” she whispered. She stood on tiptoe and licked his full lips. “Tongue only.”

  His eyes glazed over with desire. Then she broke free, turned and ran into the house. He was close on her heels, laughing with joy.

  Landis Lain, a native of Detroit, Michigan, began writing in the first grade. She has worked as an Assistant City Attorney, a Hearing Officer with the Michigan Department of Corrections, an Assistant Attorney General as a Federal Civil Rights Defense Litigator and an Administrative Law Judge. Her short story Rusty Feet was published in Chicken Soup for the African American Soul and Color Him Father. Correct Madness: Diary of a Mad Corrections Officer is her first full length publication. She writes creative non-fiction, inspirational, contemporary romance, young adult fiction, and short stories. When Landis is not writing, she can be found teaching Legal Issues in Criminal Justice to college students or coaching track and field. She enjoys reading, dance, sports, adventure and romance movies. She especially loves spending time with her children - when they squeeze her into their busy social lives. She resides in Michigan with her husband, Frank, who she considers her own personal Prince among men. Contact Landis at

  [email protected].

  The Song In My Heart

  Sunshine Royal

  “We want the funk! Gotta have that funk!” blasted from the speakers in our apartment. Zayna, my roommate, and I were hosting a Blast from the Past, 1970’s theme party. Everyone was rocking afros, some natural like my own, and some wigs like Zayna’s. We all looked like we had just stepped out of the cast of “Good Times” or “What’s Happening?” The brothers were wearing fly polyester shirts with larger than life collars and the sisters were wearing the tightest fitting hip hugger bellbottoms they could squeeze into. You couldn’t tell us nothing as we downed glass after glass of hunch punch and rocked to the sounds of the seventies!

  “Kimba, girl, look at that Omar Epps looking brother over there!” My eyes followed Zayna’s finger. What I saw almost took my breath away. The brother was fine. He had those big, beautiful eyes like Omar’s and he was blessed with the smoothest, darkest skin. He was having a ball dancing to the music as his afro wig swayed back and forth. “Ain’t he fine?”

  “Umm-hmm.” I agreed. He was beyond fine. “But, I bet he got a baby momma stashed away somewhere. Hell, as fine as he is he probably got two or three baby mommas and all the drama that comes with it.” I learned over the years that black men just could not be trusted. I was seriously considering following in my Aunt Madie’s footsteps.

  Aunt Madie had herself an older, white husband. He was filthy rich and my aunt didn’t have to lift her finger to do shit. All she did was call on the butler and the maid for every little thing she wanted. I think they even emptied her bladder and bowels for her. She was spoiled rotten. Aunt Madie only busied herself counting and spending her husband’s money.

  Of course Uncle George, her husband, was always away on business. And you know what they say. When the cat’s away, the mouse will play. That was Aunt Madie to a tee. She played with tons of younger, black men. She played with them and she paid them. She always said black men were only good for one thing and that one thing was sex.

  “Only a black man can blow your back out and leave your pussy singing!” She told me when I first started dating. “But, don’t ever depend on them to take care of you and don’t trust them. Most of them don’t want to work and those who do are so behind in child support that you won’t reap the fruit of their labor. A black man will leave you broke with bad credit and a shit load of babies. Your pussy may be singing a love song but your ass will be crying the blues when you’re sitting up in a dark ass house surrounded by crying, hungry babies!” And that’s why she married Uncle George, a man old enough to be her father. He couldn’t make her pussy sing but his money paid younger men to do the job for him.

  Even though Aunt Madie had given me that advice, I still found myself falling for the lame games of the black man. For two years, I played wife to a fine, black man named Lawrence who kept my pussy singing. But at the same time, he wouldn’t lift a finger to help me keep the bills paid, even though my dumb ass was paying his child support. I soon learned that he had a lot of singing pussies around town and more babies on the way. I kicked him out on his black ass. That’s when my best friend, Zayna moved in. I was so behind and in debt that I needed a roommate to share my living expenses with. That was almost three years ago and I’m just getting back on my feet. That won’t happen again. Nope. Not to this sister.

  Still, I couldn’t deny how sexy this man before my eyes was. He was taller than Omar and a tad more buffed. And the way he was moving his body to the beat! I’d bet that boy could do some things behind closed doors.

  “Close your mouth. You’re letting flies in!” Zayna teased. “I thought you weren’t feeling him.”

  “Who said I was?” Zayna gave me a ‘whatever’ look. “I’m not!” I lied.

  “Good! Because I sure am!” My plus size sister patted her ‘fro and did a quick butt check in the wall length mirror. “I don’t care what your crazy Aunt Madie says. I’ll take my chances on bad credit and a shit load of babies. As long as my pussy is singing it’s all good!”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at my wild, crazy friend. Zayna should have been a man. She was a player, player her damn self! I think she invented one-night stands. But I ain’t mad at her. Even though she’s thicker than most, my sister friend is confident. She wears the hell out of her size sixteens and has no problem getting a man. Despite her size, Zayna is a beautiful chic. Some days I wish I had her light skin and naturally curly hair. But instead I’m as black as the night. I normally wear twisty locks but tonight I went all out with a natural ‘fro. I think it’s cute enough to wear more often.

  “Don’t’ hurt nobody!” I teased. “And be careful about the song your pussy sings!”

  Zayna kept walking. She was on her way to snatch Omar up when a JJ Evans look alike cut her off. The boy made me look twice. I just knew that at any moment he was going to scream, “Dy-no-mite!” He was a dead ringer for comedian, Jimmie Walker.

  He must have asked Zayna to dance. She looked back at me and then over at Omar. But she didn’t have the heart to hurt JJ’s feelings. So, she placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor.

  I turned my attention back to the hunch punch. I wasn’t much for dancing. Besides they were now doing a Soul Train line as James Brown chanted, “Say it loud! I’m black and I’m proud!” Hips swayed and wigs fell off as people did their best impression of James Brown. Zayna and JJ were the best so far. They even had James’ fancy footwork down pat!

  “Would you care to dance?” The deep voice startled me, so I turned abruptly. A little too abruptly because the red hunch punch spilled into my bosom. I felt the cold liquid as it slid down between my twins.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you.” It was Omar. He took a couple napkins from the table. “Let me get that.” He used the napkins to soak up the liquid. I don’t know if he realized just where his hands were, but he couldn’t have realized that I could no longer feel the cold
ness from the punch. My body was heating up. My little nipples were as hard as pebbles. Surely he felt them as his hands accidentally bumped against the twins, but he continued to dry me off.

  “I’m Aaron,” he said.

  “I’m-“ Shoot, what the hell is my name? I went through the whole alphabet. It didn’t start with A, B, or C. Shit, what the hell is my name? “Kimba! I’m Kimba.” I felt like an idiot. How could I forget my own name?

  “Kimba? That’s a beautiful name. It fits you to a tee.” He flirted with me and my pussy did a sonnet. She hadn’t performed in damn near a year and was definitely looking forward to singing tonight!

  “Would you care to dance?” he said, breaking through an awkward silence.

  The sounds of a love ballad only The Temptations could sing blared through the speakers. Aaron took my hand in his and led me to the center of the floor to dance. He held me close and our bodies melted together. I could feel the bulge in his pants come to life as he palmed my behind bringing our pelvises closer and closer together.

  “At last!” I heard my pussy bellow like Whitney Houston when she was at the top of her game.

  Zayna was still dancing with JJ. She gave me a look that screamed, “Why the hell am I stuck with JJ in a “Good Times” episode while your ass is being palmed by Omar Epps like you’re Sanaa Lathan in the movie “Love and Basketball?”

  JJ wasn’t so bad. Zayna could have been stuck in an episode of “What’s Happening?” with the Re-Run looking dude who had not left the food table since arriving at our apartment. Compared to him, JJ was surely the Ebony Prince he always proclaimed himself to be. I could only shrug my shoulders before closing my eyes and losing myself in the feel of Aaron’s hard body.

  Aaron and I continued to dance, song after song, in each other’s arms. Even if the music changed to a funky, upbeat tempo, we still stayed in our own song. Our bodies moved to their own sensual beat. We talked, laughed, and grinded the hell out of our pelvises. Then without warning, Aaron cupped my face into his hands. He bent down as he titled my chin upward to meet his lips in a kiss. Aaron’s tongue brought mine into his mouth and together they tangoed. It felt good, but I wanted a different dance partner. I wanted my tongue to tango with the thick member that had been massaging me through the thick denim fabric of our clothing.

  Aaron’s kiss was deep. I thought it would never end. He paused just long enough to look into my eyes and whisper, “I want you, Kimba. I want you now. When I saw you, that dark skin, that beautiful afro that only a beautiful, black woman can wear, your button nose, and your full, sexy lips, I knew I had to make you mine. And this juicy ass only confirmed it.” He teased as he squeezed my ass cheeks in his hands.

  I felt weak in the knees! I didn’t know him from Adam, but I couldn’t deny that I wanted him, too. I needed him. My pussy had been singing out to him all night long. Take me. I’m yours! Take me. I’m yours! Without further contemplating, I took his hand and led him to my bedroom. We left the cast of “Good Times” and “What’s Happening?” behind in anticipation of having our own private party behind closed doors.

  No sooner than the door was closed and locked Aaron was all over me. He had me butt ass naked in less than thirty seconds. He planted soft, wet kisses all over every inch of my body. He squeezed my small breasts together and sucked both nipples. I felt as if my body was melting in his hot saliva. It couldn’t have been any hotter in hell!

  His tongue continued south until it found my hardening, pink flesh. He stroked his tongue across my clit as he wrapped his lips around it. Aaron pushed me up against the door. My legs dangled over his shoulders as he performed oral surgery on my pussy. I could hear “Fantastic Voyage” blasting from the speakers. This was definitely a ride I wouldn’t forget.

  My body jerked uncontrollably as orgasm took me over, but even that didn’t stop Aaron. He licked, sucked, stroked, and nibbled at my clit until I exploded once again.

  After securing a condom he wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. He pushed his nine plus inches inside of me and my ass slammed into the door. He pounded into me slamming me onto the door and I used every muscle in my body to squeeze his massive dick. The more I squeezed the harder and deeper he plunged inside of me. I could no longer hear the music from the other room. All I heard was the slapping of his flesh again mine. My pussy was singing, Destiny Child’s “Soldier” when Aaron finally exploded!

  ***

  “I guess you changed your mind about the baby Momma Drama.” Zayna said sarcastically at breakfast the next morning. It was Saturday morning and we had slept in late. Aaron hadn’t left until six o’clock in the morning. I mustered what energy I had left to clean the apartment. Then I took a shower and fell into a deep slumber. It was well after eleven o’clock in the morning before I emerged from my bedroom. Zayna came out of her room five minutes later, after smelling coffee and bacon.

  “Bring on the baby mommas. I’ll take them all on!” Aaron hadn’t mentioned having any kids. We talked for hours, but there were no mention of kids. We just talked about the fact that he was doing his medical residency at the local hospital and I was a realtor. Aaron was from Tampa, Florida, and I had been born and raised right here in Cordele, Georgia. Georgia Girl for life! I saw no ring on his finger, so I didn’t question him about kids or any other girlfriends. I figured he would have told me if he had any kids. It’s not something I would hide, that’s if I had ever had kids. Luckily, I hadn’t.

  “Thought you weren’t interested.” Zanya acted as if she were pissed with me. She had that mad, mean mugging, Queen Latifah look on her face. Forget the baby momma drama. I was getting it from my best friend.

  “Now Z, I know you ain’t tripping about no man. As much action as you get you should be happy that I finally got some.” She didn’t crack a smile. “Besides, you had JJ! Ain’t mad at you for that.” We both fell out laughing.

  “Okay. Okay. I am tripping. But, you’re right. You needed that.” She finally conceded. We were sisters again. I sighed deeply. The last thing I wanted to do was call and cancel my date with Aaron. But, if it were going to cause problems between Zayna and I, it would have been done.

  “What happened to JJ anyway?” I asked Zayna. She had danced with him an awful lot at the party, considering she wasn’t feeling him. That wasn’t like Zayna at all.

  I saw her whole face light up like the fourth of July. Zayna had gotten busy with Kid Dy-no-mite! I couldn’t believe it. “You’re kidding!”

  Zayna pushed her empty plate aside. “JJ-well, James, is actually his real name. James Hughes. He’s a pretty cool brother.” She was glowing.

  “Did you, two –“ I wanted to know if he made her pussy sing but just the thought of JJ made that a difficult question to ask. Maybe her pussy yelled “Dy-no-mite!”

  “No. That’s what was so cool about him.” She explained. “We laughed. We talked. And we ended up in my bedroom. But, when I tried to tickle him with my tonsils, he declined. He pleasured me and that was it. We didn’t even bump and grind, Kimba. He’s the only man who’s ever just wanted to please me.”

  He sounded like the kind of man she needed in her life. Every since we were teens, Zayna had been from man to man. She’d go all out in the bedroom and they’d tell a friend about her. She had a reputation for being an easy lay and a freak. Not like she gave a damn. Well, at least she acted as though she didn’t. I think deep down she was tired of that lifestyle. At age twenty-five, she should be.

  “He’s not the cutest or the finest man, but at least he sees me as a woman and not just an easy lay. I mean, he has a good job as a youth counselor. He’s active in the church, and he…he’s just a real nice dude. No kids, no wife, and no crazy exes waiting in the wings. And it didn’t hurt that he used the tip of his tongue against my clit to ask me to marry him.” She smiled to herself. “We’re going to the movies this evening, and then out to dinner.”

  “Wait a minute. He asked you to marry him?”

  “
Well, let’s just say we talked about it. Nothing official.”

  “Let’s hope not, just yet.” I was happy for Zayna. “Maybe Aunt Madie was wrong. Maybe there are still some good black men left.” I went on to tell her about my night with Aaron and our plans for the evening. We were both a little surprised that he wanted to hook up after getting sexed up last night.

  “I’m happy for you.” Zayna said as we embraced in a sisterly hug. “You deserve to be happy.”

  “And so do you, Z. So do you.”

  In the coming weeks, our relationships with Aaron and James blossomed. The four of us were going out together and having dinner together almost every evening. We went to the movies, to the beach, to the aquarium, and even shopping at the mall. Weeks soon turned into two months of steady dating.

  My sex life was off the chain! There was no place Aaron and I went that we didn’t sex each other up. The movies, restaurants, parks, the aquarium, it didn’t matter. I even gave him head in the car while we were driving to dinner one evening. I was in love with Aaron and we didn’t hide our love for each other. The same was true of James and Zayna.

  We were having dinner at our apartment one evening when Aaron’s pager went off. It wasn’t unusual for him to get pages from his job. He had to end a few of our dates early because they needed him back at the hospital. I understood. It was his career choice and I supported his choice.

  “Excuse me for just one moment.” Aaron said as he pulled his cell phone out of pocket and headed towards the living room, leaving Zayna, James, and me to our tossed salads, baked spaghetti and garlic bread.

  Aaron returned in what seemed like a flash. The expression on his face spoke volumes. Something was wrong. “Is it a patient? Aaron, what’s wrong?” He was a pediatrician and it affected him greatly when his young patients took ill.