Fly on the Wall, page 16
He spent the entire first quarter trying to pick her out of the sold-out crowd. Instead of listening to Craig’s advice during a time-out, he scanned the mob until he spotted her up top in a royal blue blouse. As he ran back onto the court, he blew a kiss, which sent the girls into an uproar. Every female seated in that section believed that it was meant for her, but the real recipient never flinched.
The “after-game plan” was for them to link up at Paige’s house, so after watching him fade into the locker room, she fished her keys out of her purse and exited the back of the gym to avoid the crowd. There wasn’t much light in the area, so she ran instead of walked. When she reached the parking lot, she ran right into—
“Hey, where are you going?” Ian grabbed her by the arm as she rushed by.
“Hi.” She caught her breath. “You enjoyed the game?”
“Oh yeah.” He smiled. “That damn Lakewood packs the house, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah.” The mention of his name made her search the crowd for him. “He played really well tonight.”
He chuckled. “That kid must shit basketballs.”
She blushed and hoped it couldn’t be detected. “He’s awesome.”
“He has a great future ahead of him. I mean he doesn’t even seem like an eighteen-year-old. Talking to him last night blew me away.”
Her ears tuned in. “Where did you see him last night?”
“I didn’t see him. We talked on the phone when he called for Angela.” He carried on. “I told her that this is one she can’t fuck up. That boy is a damn treasure. Treat that muthafucka like a goddamn king.” He went on, giggling. “I’ll change her curfew for him.”
“Is that so?” Paige was less than amused.
“Hell yeah. Having him for a son-in-law would make my life complete.” Ian grinned. “Shit, I’d retire the day after the wedding.”
Whatever temperature blood boils at, Paige had surpassed it. “So, they’re dating?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged his shoulders, “but there is some interest there.”
“Who’s interested in whom?” She had to know.
“Well, I think they’re equally interested in each other.” His eyes brightened and he rested his hand lightly on her arm. “Since you have them in your class, why don’t you pair them up for special projects or to be homework buddies or something?”
What the—? “I think you need to get a life, Ian.” She chuckled as the words slipped out, but her level of seriousness was no laughing matter.
“Come on, encourage them.” He wasn’t smiling. “They need to be together.”
“I think you need them to be together.” She tried not to sound bitter.
“Relax,” he said. “Damn, I was just kidding.”
“Sure. So was I.” She was sick to her stomach and had to stop herself from saying too much. “I need to get going.”
“So soon?”
“Yeah, I have to get home. Business to take care of.”
“Can I help?” He winked.
“I can handle it.”
“As I’ve asked before, when are you going to allow someone, a man, to handle things for you?”
“Someone is handling things for me,” she said with the same fake smile she gave his daughter daily.
“Who?” he asked.
She tried dismissing him. “It was nice seeing you again.”
“How about dinner next week at your place?” He licked his lips. “I’ll bring the goodies. All you have to do is let me put it in your mouth.”
How tacky. She was in shock. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
“I’m just keeping it real.”
“Yeah, real nasty.” She walked away.
On the way to her car, she mingled with the students and Ms. Henry, the economics teacher. They talked about the game, the weather, and the upcoming holiday. It was mid-November, and the chill in the Florida air was to be praised.
During her conversation with another teacher, she saw members of the basketball team slowly trickling out of the front door, of the school. Though she was quite a ways from the door she could read the numbers on their jerseys like they were on paper in a mathematic equation just an inch away. Numbers seventeen, three, sixteen, two, six, nine, twenty-two, twenty-nine, then finally number twenty-seven walked through the doors all alone.
Before Theo exited the school, several girls, one being Angela, asked him about his plans for the evening. He lied to them all, telling them that he needed to baby-sit his younger brother. Angela volunteered to assist, but he declined the offer. His evening was already arranged. His mother, who was at the game but left in the middle of the fourth quarter to start her shift on time, was under the impression that after the game he’d hang out with the team a bit then go to Will’s, where he’d sleep because Will needed a ride early the next morning. Will didn’t need a ride or anything else from Theo. He was too busy with Jessica; so busy that they were even holding hands throughout the basketball game.
Once he was outside, Theo looked around the crowd until he spotted her in the distance, then pointed at his car.
“Well, Ms. Henry, you drive safely. Have a good night and an even better weekend,” Paige said.
Though they were walking in two different directions, they had a common goal . . . being together. Paige hopped into her car with a smile that could turn an onyx stone into a princess cut diamond. As she reversed from her spot, headlights crept up to her bumper. She pulled off, and he flashed his lights and followed suit. Other than their moments alone after class, this would be their first time together since their “first time” together.
During this boring ride to Paige’s house, I’d like to vindicate myself by discussing some common fly stereotypes. All flies do not eat shit, hover over dead bodies, or find delight in buzzing dangerously close to a human ear at three in the morning. I am a fly with class. You won’t find me around your crusty-ass toilet. I stay in the kitchen, and the moment you leave an uncovered pot unattended, you better believe that I act as your professional taste tester. At dinnertime, I pray that you’ll let the clumsiest muthafucka in your family pour the drinks, so that through their spillage I can get my drink on. As for trying to annoy you, hell naw. I saw what the fly swatter did to my aggravating big brother, so when you sleep, I sleep.
When she turned onto her street, Paige looked in the rearview mirror and watched the headlights behind her turn too. However, when her house came into view, her eyes widened. “What in the hell . . .?”
Theo’s car was in the driveway, and he was standing in front of his opened trunk with an overnight bag draped over his shoulder. As she approached, he waved her in with a smile as the car behind her stopped.
She let the passenger window down and pulled halfway into the driveway. “Who’s in that car?”
He didn’t hear her. “What?” He walked over.
As she looked back, the car’s lights were now off and it sped, in reverse, down the street. “That car followed me here from the school. I thought it was you.”
He strained his eyes to try to make out what kind of car it was, but he couldn’t. It was too far gone. “Was it Coach?”
“I don’t think so. I hope not. I thought it was you.” She parked, sprung from the car, and stared down the street. “They followed me here from West Dade.”
“Well, c’mon.” Theo walked around the car and grabbed her hand. “Let’s get inside.”
“Wait a second.” She resisted his pulling. “Whoever it was saw you.”
“So?” he said.
“Here at my house.” She tried to make him understand.
“And?” He brushed it off. “I could be here for a thousand different reasons.”
“Yeah, but at almost eleven o’clock at night?”
“Paige, I don’t give a shit.”
“Well, I do.” She looked back down the road. “I could lose my job.”
“Come here.” He pulled her into an embrace and squeezed her. “We’re already here, so let’s make the most of it.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Shh,” he silenced her. “We’re here.”
~Situation #11~
Theo
I was convinced that crazy-ass Trese was either in or had something to do with the car that followed Paige. If she found out something, anything, she’d set out to make our lives miserable.
Paige opened the front door, disarmed the security system, and when she flicked the light switch, I couldn’t say a word. It was West Dade paradise. Purple and gold decorations and balloons were everywhere, and a large banner that read WAY TO GO THEO was posted over the sliding glass door.
“Surprise!” She smiled up at me and stepped farther into the house. On the dining room table, set for two, was a small round cake with a basketball airbrushed onto it. Metallic purple confetti shone up from both the white-tiled floor and beige-carpeted area.
“Congratulations on your win.” She left my side to light the gold candles placed throughout the living room. “I knew that the game would be yours, so I planned a victory party.” On her way over to me, she turned out the lights. “You’re my MVP.”
Here we were, back at her place, under the orange glow of candlelight again. I couldn’t believe my eyes. She had done this for me . . . for me. It might not seem like much to some, but for this eighteen-year-old, it was like prom night five times over.
“Cat got your tongue?” she asked.
My tongue wanted her cat. My hands slid down her back. “I can’t believe you did this.”
“You like?” she asked.
I was in awe. I laughed and rubbed my head. “This is unbelievable.” My life was too damn sweet. I had just led my team to victory during our first game. I had Paige, an intelligent, beautiful, and sexy black woman in my life, and now I was walking into my own personal pep rally. There was no word to express what type of man she made me feel like.
With my hand in hers, she walked over to the stereo, and at a click of a button, the room was filled with a low trumpet, the soft, slow melody of a piano, shivering cymbals, and drums that were too elegant to be beaten harshly. We danced, and like a rain shower on a summer day, the notes sprinkled onto me but melted into my soul before I could wipe them away.
The music made its way into my mouth and I began to hum. As the vibration walked down my body, I could no longer pretend I hadn’t spent the entire day wanting her. I picked her up by the waist, found her lips, and felt her legs wrapped around me. It was an open invitation. I tried to move slowly, use tact and be romantic, but as the drummer got excited, so did I, and when the piano keys got low, I did too . . . low, down, and dirty.
I backed her up against the wall and didn’t have patience for all the buttons, so I ripped the blue blouse from her chest. I had missed two shots daydreaming about squeezing her big, dark brown nipples and their silver piercing between my fingers.
With her tongue wildly exploring my mouth and her back still up on the wall, I pulled Paige’s skirt upward to her waist and barely got my basketball shorts to my thighs before I slipped into her. I palmed both of her ass cheeks and gave her so much dick that it should’ve come out on the other side of the wall.
“Aaah.” The saxophone wailed along with her. I bent my knees and felt myself fall into an untouched valley within her. I wanted that new property to know who was its founder. I hit that exact spot again and again, harder and harder, faster and faster, until her fingernails dug into my back for blood, her eyelids squeezed shut, and she groaned like someone was stabbing her.
“Theo,” she moaned.
“Yeah?”
“I have condoms,” she trembled and struggled to speak, “that we were supposed to use.”
“Oops.” I didn’t let her comment interrupt my strokes. “Do you wanna get ’em?”
“Mmmm.” She moved her head up and down. “Yeah.”
“You wanna stop?” My rhythm never changed. “Do you want me to stop?”
“Damn.” She sighed as the song ended and the room fell silent. “No, don’t stop.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, keep going, don’t stop.” Her body heaved between each word, which was followed by a thrust. “Don’t stop.”
I felt guilty about not using protection, especially after the hour-long telephone conversation we had about condoms the day after things happened the last time. We vowed to practice safe sex. In the past, I would never dip into anybody’s chocolate pudding without taking the necessary precautions. I didn’t know what had taken over me. Damn!
“Paige, you feel so good.” I slid our bodies down the wall and onto the plush carpet beneath. I moved her legs from my waist to my shoulders as my knees sank into the rug and I into her. The loud howl that escaped her was scary, so I slowed myself.
“What happened?” She looked at me.
“That noise you made,” I stuttered. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“That sound meant that it was getting good.” She smiled.
I smiled at her. “Oh, it was just getting good?”
“You know what I mean.” She laughed. “It was getting better.”
“It sounded like I was killin’ you,” I joked.
“Then kill me,” she said with the naughtiest look on her face. “Kill me, Theo.”
With that said, my mushroom plowed back into her creamy soup bowl and sure enough, she howled again and again. “Is that the way you want it?”
“Yes.” She licked her lips. “Slaughter me.” Her legs tightened around my neck and she started to move her body like a snake, slapping that pussy into me over and over again. “Fuck me.” Damn!
“Oh yeah,” I said and closed my eyes.
“Fuck me, Theo.” Her dirty mouth took me to another level. She wailed. “Oh, oh, oh, God.” I poked her rapidly, repeatedly, and raunchily, penetrating deeper each and every time until her shaking, squealing, and squeezing led me to a final thrust. I burst within her walls and trembled for what seemed like an hour before falling to her side.
“We were supposed to eat first,” Paige whispered.
“I wasn’t really hungry before.”
“Now?”
“Now I’ll eat you if you come too close.”
“Let’s see.” She climbed on top of me and gently touched my lips with her fingers. “Eat me,” she teased and giggled. “Ouch,” she cried when I softly bit her fingertip and pretended to chew.
Paige jumped up and returned a few minutes later wrapped in a pink terrycloth robe, carrying a sheet, a blanket, and two pillows. She then went into the kitchen and came back with a bottle of champagne, two glasses, and two plates of Chinese food.
“That’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout,” I screamed, and then we got down to business.
After I was stuffed with egg-foo-this and sweet-and-sour-that, I put on my shorts and took the plates and utensils to the kitchen. I was smiling like a damn fool, and the next thing I knew, I was standing in front of her sink, washing dishes. I didn’t even do dishes at home. This woman had some kind of wonderful something.
I returned to the living room to a fresh glass of champagne and Paige holding out a small wrapped box toward me. “This is for you.”
“What’s this?” I hadn’t felt this good since my twelfth birthday when Mom surprised me with a new Sega Genesis system. I tore apart the wrapping paper and opened the box to find a flip Samsung cellular phone. “Is this mine?”
“Yes.”
“Are you serious?” No woman other than my mother and aunts had ever spent more than twenty dollars on me.
“Yes, I’m serious,” she said as I turned it on and giggled at the cute sound that it made. “I get paranoid when you call me from home, so I got you a phone.”
“Thank you.” I sat next to her on the couch and pulled her to me, kissing her on the forehead. “Thank you so much.”
“My number is already programmed.” Paige smiled. “If I knew Angela’s number, I would’ve put it in there too,” she said under her breath, “since you have so much to call her about.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” She played it off.
“Come on, don’t be shy now,” I said. “What did you say about Angie?”
She sat up. “I said that if I knew Angela’s number, I would’ve programmed it, since you have so much to talk to her about. I heard that you called her last night.”
“Okay.”
“Did you?”
“Yeah.” It seemed like Paige wanted a reason from me, but I wanted one from her first. “Why?”
“Why what?” she asked.
“Why are you asking me that?”
“Well, why did you call her?”
I decided to put this foolish thing to an end so that our night could proceed. “I forgot to write down the homework assignment, and when I called you yesterday, you didn’t answer.”
“But . . .” she said, “we talked last night and you never asked me about the homework.”
“I didn’t have to. By that time I had already gotten the assignment from Angie.” I laughed. “That’s why I called her.”
“Well,” she was embarrassed, “next time you need something from me, don’t turn to anyone else for it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I pulled her toward me and kissed her. “I need a little something right now.” We made our way to the bedroom and before long, if it ended with an –ing, we were doing it: kissing, licking, sucking, teasing, pleasing, nibbling, groping, tasting, sweating, pulling, and pushing. We were fucking it up.
At 9 A.M. Paige’s phone woke us. It was her friend Toni’s husband, calling from down the street. Paige forgot that she had agreed to keep the twins until Sunday so that Toni and Marcus could attend a function in West Palm Beach.
After tearing down the WAY TO GO THEO banner, Paige met Marcus outside, talked a bit, said good-bye, then brought the boys in. She did a great job keeping us separated. The twins were in the living room and I, like a prisoner, was locked in the bedroom. Her plan was to take them out for pizza so that I could leave the house without being seen. However, when she went to take the clothes out of the dryer, in ran Dev or Kev—I couldn’t tell them apart.
