Bike Lady (10.8.08)

Point of order: Two though Amnesties in a row. This a short story (UNCORRECTED/UNEDITED) from my next colection FREAK TYPE SCENE. Will B back on the grind monday. Enjoy or not.

Bike Lady (10.8.08)

The Fall was just two days in, meaning the South Georgia weather was still crisp with the acumen of summer yet tempered with the animosity of the half moon. It was a great time for, to see the kids running outside and even more so was the sensation of smelling steaks and ribs on the grill, even when around the side of the house chopping wood. It was supposed to be raining but the sky had not yet opened up to poor its blessing onto the earth or to nurture the first shedding of pine needles on the ground. In fact it was the opposite. It was bright and warm and mellow and refreshing. Not to mention, tomorrow Tripp would not be going into the shop and that he would be childless.

The next day, after dropping his son off at school and his daughter at the sitter, he returned home. He could take pleasure in know that his little girl would be spending the night at a slumber party with six other little girls. He knew she needed the estrogen being that each day she was surrounded by her brother and himself and that she was more used to being around them than other women, especially other little girls being that he was a single parent.

The weather men as usual were a day off on their predictions. The inclement weather rolled in like a Hurricane hitting the gulf. It was not windy, but it was dark and the mist of the impending showers were swept in with each intermittent gust. He hurried into the house for he would not be able to clear the last two trees he had hoped to clear on his day with out the kids. Instead, he started to cook: Neck bones with potatoes and cabbage. He know his children would be upset seeing that that was one of their favorite meals among many, but as usual he would cook enough for them to enjoy the following evening.

It was approaching 4pm but to the layman it would have appeared to be closer to six or seven PM. The rain had started to fall and with each ephemeral minute, it began to come down harder and harder. As his food cooked, he stripped and returned to his bed. He pretended that he was on some beach in Antigua and likewise, accepted the make-believe premonition that his shot of Tequila was some tropical drink with a tiny umbrella toothpick on the side. Upon which he dosed off.

He woke up abruptly, not even realizing that he had been a slumber. It wasn't the rain, albeit he thought it was, but rather a knock at his door. He gathered his robe and proceeded to answer. He could not believe that any of his folks would desire to see him in such horrendous weather. But it would not have surprised him any if such proffered to be the case.

Opening the door to his astonishment, it was a woman whom he had seen before. When had seen her, he was either driving out of his drive onto the street either heading out or coming home. Whenever he had seen her, she was either running or she would be on her bicycle. He always recalled of her motions, of her terse yet ballerina like appendages taking her too and from her destinations, which he had figured either home or for exercise. She was grace personified, a stallion in the complexity of Meted, an image that he kept in his mind such to the extent it should be bronzed somewhere and displayed in a museum for she was more than beauty and more than woman she was the molecular combination of elegance and refinement, even when she was running or on her bike. Often she he would pass he would slow down his vehicle just to get a double take of her poise in his rearview mirror and savor her disposition as if a fine wine on his way to his destination.

Trip had never met her formally, but he had waved seeing that they had seen each other often. He was just taken aback that she had noticed him to the extent of approaching and knocking on his door. Add to that that his house was 200 yards from the street up a country dirt and gravel road.

"Hello", he said trying not to act surprised. She was soaking wet and maintained a pair of red shorts and a white T-shirt bearing the mage of barrack Obama. The rain had revealed to him a blue sports bra underneath her top however, he was trying not to indicate to her that he had any admiration for her lithe figure.

"Hi, I know you don't know me, but I see you all the time when I am running."

"Would you like to come in, you are soaking wet, rain got you, guess you don't watch the weather channel. My name is Tripp, Tripp Hughes.

She laughed and extended her hand. "Tara, Tara Jenkins. I know your name. Been meaning to introduce myself but each time see you, you are speeding off in that pick up truck of yours."

He laughed and griped her hand firmly, but not hard. "You make me feel bad and just to think I was gonna invite you in."

"Don't have too I am already in and gonna, you are country aren't you? Nice house, never knew what all I ever saw was that dirt road was back here. You not scared to live back here by yourself?

"Well I have to children, just free from their pleasure today and I am a single parent, but nope, I aint."

"Well, I was trying to make it home but it kept raining harder and harder so I came up here seeing not another house for a while, is this all your land?"

As she dripped on his wood floor he continued. "Yes it is, here let me get you something. Turn your head. He took off his robe and gave it too her. She turned her head as he requested but did situate herself to maintain a glimpse of his nakedness and the appendage that he maintained below his waist. He quickly returned to his room and draped himself with a towel.

"I have some clothes if you would like to change. They aint woman clothes but a t-shirt and some boxers if you like and you can keep the robe. I was cooking so if you like I can show you to the restroom.

"That would be kind of you."

He showed her to the bathroom and returned to the kitchen. "Just give me your clothes and I can toss them in the dryer.

She came out and he was in the kitchen, standing over and smelling his neck bones like an artist would a fine watercolor. She watched him. She liked what she saw. It wasn't his dreds, nor was it his smile. She went back into the restroom, passing through his bedroom to return to where she had entered. She stooped in his front room and admired all of his art. She could tell or suspected that he was worldly.

"You have a lot of art, nice."

Shouting from the kitchen as not to be distracted from his neck bones he returned. "Yep, all them years of living in Africa folk and I got more that need to be framed and displayed. I like this house cause it reminds me of how I live when Im in Africa. You ever been there?"

"No "she said. She walked to the kitchen. "Africa, what do you do?"

He turned around with his spoon still stirring and opined. "If I told you jones, I'd have to kill you."

She laughed and walked into the kitchen. The house was roomy and spacious yet quiet and humble. He placed the top back on his vitals and addressed her directly. She had not changed clothes and kept the robe on he had given her, and the hair; well it was still wet from the rain. He admired her pony tail.

He looked down and said, "I am who I am and if you hate so be it, and placed his lips against hers. He pulled her close to him, and the muscle of her firmness sent ripples up his spine. She did not resist. In his mind he desired to take her to his bed but he could not wait. He opened the slip not in the belt around her waist that kept the robe tightly against her body. There was no blue bra now. His hands gripped her waist and rose upward like the sun in the morning, against her curvature and made their way to her waist and eventually towards her breast. He cupped them equally with both hand and placed them together such that he could house both nipples in his mouth at the same time.

She sighed and at each sigh, he seemed to gain momentum and more confidence. She pulled back and looked down and what she had seen swinging when he first gave her his robe. Her hands began to show his kiss appreciation as she grabbed him. She motioned downward, her mouth against his chest and crossed her disposition back and forth from his neck to his chest. She was brave and no where in her action did she evince any hesitance. With him in her hands, she knew she would be forced to extend her jaw into an uncomfortable position. She let him slide beyond her tonsils with such ease and enjoyed it. She let go and went back to the head of his shaft and ever so firmly pushed her lips together around it. Her mouth had never been so moist. She enjoyed herself and slowly went back down his shaft. She wrap her mouth around his head and used quick movements as she held grip around that monstrous base. She stroked increased her alacrity; for she could feel the veins in his manhood pulsating. She wanted to taste his liquid, but he pulled away.

He picked her up, robe open and slide her on top of him. He pressed her back against the refrigerator and stroked up inside of her until he met resistance. But it did not stop him, he was confident that he would break through and in his mind felt as if he could eventually feel himself come out of her mouth. She wiggles in slight pain and amazement and sheer gratitude but did not waiver. She was determined to work as much out of him as she could take. The concern was she was taking more, much more than she desired physically, but mentally it did not matter. She wanted him and he wanted her and she played out in her mind such occurring over and over again.

Still with him impaled in her he removed her to the sofa and trusted several last times. She felt the warmness of his elixir slide down the inside of her back, and her ovaries ached; not in pain but for more of the same sensation. He laid his head on her shoulder and just breathed. They shared the sofa together and went to sleep. Good for him the neck bones were on simmer.

When she awoke. He was up. He had taken her clothes out of the dryer. She watched and smiled and smiled and watched. .

"Would you like some neck bones?" He asked as the Southern Gentleman he was.

"No thank you, I don't eat pork."

"I placed your clothes on my bed, they are dry now, and I hope I will see you again."

She said nothing and went to his room and got dressed.

When she returned she said, "Thanks for welcoming me into your home as you did." She kissed him gently on the cheek and once more on his lips. She parted them for him with a quick but unhurried darting of her tongue which he was prompt to match.

She continued, "You think it will be raining tomorrow?"

"I don't know lil momma, I don't know but I shole do hope so."

"You are country," she said getting onto her back with a simper and a laugh. He laughed too. But such was only appropriate since they had started out with smiles and laughs. He continued to watch, her legs moving elegantly as she peddled away from him down his dirt and gravel road.

excerpt- her kiss was never mine

COPY EDITOR (PAID WELL) HAS PROOFED VERSION, THEY DONT GIVEM BACK TO ME AFTER THEY GO THROUGH THEM THEY SAY I ADD SHIT - RECANT-IM WRITER NOT SPELLER (LAST OF THE TWO FINGER TYPERS) LOL

1] Only novel written with narrator, except for first one i wrote in college called MY SPIT. I write like i am talking to the reader, first person only mostly.

2] I just had some minor oral surgery this monday setting up for major oral surgery on the 27th, so forgive me for not hitting up blogs like i used too, but stitches in the mouth and gums and loose teeth dos that, and i wont tell you what happened, dont want yawl to get the wrong impression.

3] I wont be in academia full time, I still teach stat 1 an stat 2 at Clark Atlante Univ. Albeit they trying to ge me there full time and as to why, check this

3

This was Foia’s third trip to see him in two months. Allistar had given Foia $400.00 to go out to see and learn the city. He had also informed her of a shoe outlet that he had seen and hat maybe she could spend the money there. It was hard to get her out of the house without him. He didn’t mind really, since he was a homebody himself. But he wanted her t still be independent and thought it was important for her to know that he still and would always love her as the free spirit she was. He also didn’t want her to think that she had to be under him all the time, although he would never refute such an action. He simply adored her, her eyes, her voice, and her walk. Her hair her laugh and the clumsy way she held him at night while at the same time trying to have the entire bed to herself. It was funny to him, for she had expressed that he was the best pillow ever.

She was in the back playing with his son; they seemed to hit it off very good. He didn’t know about her trying to play catch with him, or chasing him around the house, with her self professed goofiness, but he liked the smiles that they seem to evoke when interacting with one another. Allistar wanted her to be herself; no relationship could or would work without that understanding.

“Yawl stop playing now, Foia, you need to stop before you bump your head. As she came from the laundry room and through the bathroom, she hit a flight of stairs on her chase with my son, and hit her head above the doorway, slamming immediately to the ground. Before he could get there she jumped up said, “I knew I was gone fall or some shit,” and laughed. He laughed too, maybe it were here teddy bare house shoes of pajama’s with pink pigs on them.

“Woman gets ready, ok?”
“Ok.” She turned back around and wrapped her arms around his neck and proceeded to place her nose in a humble manner in the crease of his neck. He inturn took a deep inhalation of her hair and held her back. He smacked her on the ass as if to say get moving.

When she was ready, he had started the grill by now. Her hair was brown simple but dazzling. Her completion was smooth and her shades, large and orbital like and provided the thought I ones mind that they made her face more alluring. She was wearing a purple dress. Her back was displayed and the pattern was one of multiple concentric circles with a dash of white. The outfit looked delicious to Allistar and conservative at he same time. She had made certain than he knew it was a Nelson Pilay dress and that he was one of her favorites. It was sophisticated garment non-the less, made of a light fabric he could not discern and exaggerated her hips and ass as if they were semi-precious stoned. She again said thanks and kissed him on his lips.

So you know where you going? Back to the main road, swing a left and left and drive till you get to exit 27. You been there before ok?”

“Ok, I’m gone miss you.”
“Me too, be safe.”

By the time the grill was finished and he had taken his son to a friends to spend the night, he walked out side after his shower, which followed a second steak prepared cowboy style , and walked outside. He was considered a loner by most, a flirt and highly sexual person. But he was also a dedicated family man and eclectic who loved life for living sake. He would walk and often think to himself that he could hear the stars. He cherished his land as if it was his child and family. Panoplied in the sartorial grace of a stolen hotel tile and an sixteen ounce Bush beer in his had, he walked. His dog, half wolf and half Rottweiler, joined him as he did each and every night he walked his property or came outside. Haussa was his name.

He returned to the house , and laid on his bed. The room and sheets stilled were embellished with her bouquet. By the time he had positioned his pillows into the maximum comfort position, there was a knock at his door. He lived in the country an did not have a door bell. He stepped over her bags and opened it.

She came to the door with a long coat and heels and a smile that made one visualize maple and sugar. She dropped straight down to the floor and said, “I am about to wake up what’s mine

She seemed to be greedy, attempting to take all of him into her throat and never wanting me to stop.

Next she walked him slowly into his bedroom and sat him down upon the edge of the bed. She slowly took her coat off and showed that burning yet passionate smile again and sat right in his lap. Her nipples vibrant and hard were all up in his face. She started to ride him, first slow then speeding up her pace, grinding harder and allowing him to go deeper than any man had entered her before

He couldn't’t let her have her way entirely. He wanted to be in control a little and give her some dick. He flipped her over like some one off of WWWF on to her back exposing the wildness of her legs in the air. Her level of flexibility made him even harder and he started to beat and long and slow stroke her. By the time he saw her eyes fading back and forth from the recesses of her head, she begged for him to stop. But she did not want that, like I said, she was in a greedy state of mind and would pull him by his butt when he even attempted to long and slow stroke her.

In side she knew that he had matched every criteria she had written in her journal for a man. He was smart, successful, loved kids, funny and easy to talk too. And he had meat; her aunt’s told her growing up that when u select a man he had to have meat. Allistar had meat. Fat and long and thick country sausage meat. She wanted it but couldn't take it. He could see this and went back to trying to maximally penetrate and bury himself in her and slowly pull it out. all the way, and then slowly sliding it up the roof of her wetness entering under her clit, and back at the base of her spine, where he wedged himself in like a lamprey.

He picked her up; her legs still wrapped around his waste and took her into the shower. He turned the water on and started to wash her. First with his hands and next directly with the bar of carrot soap he had picked up in South Africa. He began to kiss her on his neck and the soap soften skin of her structure led him to turn her around placing her against the wall and started to take her breast in her mouth, using his hands such to get both nipples in at the same time. Eventfully his tongue bathed its way to the top of her pubic hair and on below. It was cut in the form of a straight line down the middle.

Then he carried her still damp in his arms, back to the bed and entered her again. The next morning he woke up first, she way still asleep. She was his cover and just looking at her in slumber made him smile. He went outside, nude as usual and looked at his flowers. He gently picked a red rose from one bush and returned to the house
He approached the bed and easily slide the flower in her hair. She woke up briefly, gazing into his eyes as if she was looking in his heart. Her heart, for he owned it and she had given it to him.

For Foia, Allistar was a dream, a man, a real man and it was difficult that this dream was true. After all, she had listened to her girls and other women say repeatedly how difficult it was to find a good man. But she had, albeit under the auspicious circumstances of being out of a trip with a married man. She felt that it was meant to be and that nothing would ever separate her from her prince charming.

Hey you”, she said in a morning whisper. He kissed her on her forehead and moved the hair from in front of her eyes.

“Good morning pound cake.”

“What you doing, hanks for my flower.”

“You welcome, nothing, lounging, waiting for you to wake up so I can smell you in my embrace again.”

“I don’t want to go.” She said, returning all of her face t the pillow. I don’t want to leave you. I want t stay with you, in my bed with you.”

“Our bed, and don’t want you t leave me either. I get a hollowing pain each time I take you to the airport.”

Allistar looked deeply into her eyes again. He pained at the sadness they displayed and clasped his hand over hers and said, “Don’t worry, I’m gonna make you my wife, my woman for life, so keep that and me in your heart please?”

“But I’m gone miss you, and my kisses and my meat.” She laughed and so did he. She continued slowly and like a diva stated, “you better not be down her fucking nobody else why I am gone.”

They both laughed again. She slid her hand on his thigh and laid her head back on the pillow as if she was looking at his thigh. She moved her hand to his member, which was resting down his thigh and started to get the response she desired immediately With it to its maximum length and stiffness, she commented, “now that’s what I’m talking about and you better not.”

Her flight was six hours away, ad that meant four since he had to get her to the airport early for her take off her shoes and made sure she was no terrorist. She dressed slowly, only attending to the mirror in the bathroom and the occasional turn to check on his where abouts. If she could no see him she would call out his name loudly in the 4000 square foot house. “Allistarrrrrrr.”

“I’m her in the kitchen, what ya need hon?”
“Nothing, you were making me miss you. I don’t want to leave.
Walking back to the bathroom, Allistar placed his had against the door frame and just looked a her. “I don’t want you to leave, wish you would relocate, and you know I have to work tomorrow.”
“But that don’t change my feelings.”
“Well look at it this way, you going back home and you are going to Toronto with your girls.”

She held calm for a minute. She forgot that she had told him about the trip. She had put on a pink beaded and lace top. It was sequenced a little and embroidered with flowers. Levi’s would complement he remainder of her outfit. He had bought them for her on her first trip to see him, when it was her goal to get him some jeans – which she did.

As they drove to the airport, she clasped her palm over his fist. It was on the stick shift, a bad habit of his from driving a standard shift vehicle for most of his life, with the exception of that burgundy and white 74 Cutlass Supreme he bent while in college. He was still a truck man, albeit he could afford a BMW 700 class or Range Rover. His Ford pick-up truck suited him just fine.

Now, I know I indicated that this story is about Alistar, but given the situation, I would like to interject something on my personal behalf. Allistar and I kicked it, I mean really kicked it. That one-town, bluff city Ten-a-Ki thang. And I must add that we were both quite the ladies men. I was more refined and his bunch were for lack of a better word were incorrigible and recalcitrant at best. But we did kick it. Maybe it was the party circuit or one of his impromptu pol parties with around twenty guest, fifteen of which would be women.

At these Lagnaf’s , as he called them, only the top self of folks would be there, there was his best friend, at least on of the Rory Stain, III, often referred to as Cadillac, who was heir to one of the largest African American owned Banks. In appearance, one could suppurate how he gathered his name given he was as large as the said vehicle. There was also Railhead. Ballplayer and scholar in the old school Memphis make and model. He was a reformed distributor of pharmaceuticals. Had sent both his sisters to college while he himself went to the Navel Academy on an academic scholarship. Then there was his next door neighbor, Blue, who was really road dog number one and just as wild, if not wilder when it came to women as Allistar was. Cat Daddy was still a distributor of pharmaceuticals and had parleyed such into a string of car washes. Allistar himself was no deacon, giving his past dealings with weapons.

Last would be someone such as myself, whose father was a Plastic Surgeon and the firs to attend and graduate from the University of Notre Dames Medical School. I actually looked up to him. Although I would be attending prep schools around the Eastern Seaboard, and just as smart, he would be in both worlds at the same time; the gutters from Glenview park to Castalia heights to Nigeria and Zimbabwe.

Maybe that is what is so surprising, a man who wet through a woman one every two to three weeks, and him biting had for this one. But as I will repeat, this is only speculation on my half based on conversations, emails and other forms of correspondence.

He loved the way she gripped his fist. He loved her touch period. Foia found what she could only perceive as a dream. She often thought to herself that he was too good to be true. She found him exceptionally handsome and cocky and assertive yet kind at the same time.

But in her heart I suspect, she was still uncertain, not of him, but of herself. Was she ready to make a commitment for life to him, to have his children, to travel the globe with him? She knew that she was planning no trip to Toronto with her girls. But rather had aggreeed to meeting the man of letters, NAME in Los Angeles. He would always be first in her heart. It was his fame morso than the individual that did it to her. To her, she believed there was nothing more stimulating, than having sex with a man with fame and power. Or what she perceived to define fame and power in her eyes. If she loved Allistar, inside she knew that such could not happen. Not to mention NAME was a married man with two children.

This was her first lie and it pained her.