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Introduction:

This is one part of an ongoing story. Not all parts will be posted, just for the sake of keeping my content with myself. Feel free to comment on the world that James finds himself in.
It’s one thing to not be able to find a job after looking all day. It’s a completely different experience to lose your six-figure job two weeks ago, and search for a job with no luck even with two degrees. That feeling gets amplified ten times over when you have rent due for your luxury penthouse apartment in two weeks- rent that you could afford with your six-figure job, but now your no-figure unemployed ass is thinking about how bad it would be for your image to have to move out. Given the fact that it took you two degrees and a LOT of ass-kissing to get that luxury penthouse. On top of that, you’re a 27 year old Black Man with no future planned. No woman wants a man who can’t keep a job. It’s even worse when you’re the man who lost his six-figure job.

So much for married with kids by 30.

But, here you are. Sitting at a bar, drinking because who cares if you use this month’s last money splurge on getting drunk to numb the fact that all of this happened in two weeks? Right. “I’ll take a Tito’s & Cranberry on the rocks. Make it double actually, fuck it.”As the bartender prepares my overrated cliche beverage, I decide to take out my phone to see what’s happening on twitter.Nevermind, there are way too many “Ms. 20-something”’s celebrating the fact that they dumped a fuck nigga for a new glow.

Cause now I’m the fuck nigga in the way of “Ms. 20-something”’s glow.

The bartender finally finished making the world’s simplest drink in 15 minutes, and it’s time for a silent toast to me. James, the 27 year old, fuck nigga-wait, unemployed fuck nigga- who is spending his last day of moping in an overrated bar, with an overrated drink in hand, and an underrated resume in his briefcase in the barstool next to him like an overrated date. Basically makes sense. “Go ahead and pour me another, I know by the time I finish this one you’ll only be starting the next one”, I say as someone taps me on the shoulder with a light touch. “Excuse me, but I’d really appreciate it if you moved your empty briefcase from beside you. There are no more seats at the bar, and I don’t think this seat is filled with a paying customer”, I hear from behind me from a woman’s voice with a deep timbre (kinda like Alicia Keys in that one coffee shop scene). I chuckle as I move my briefcase replying, “I’d be glad to move the suitcase for someone patronizing a business, but I’ll be glad to let you know that this briefcase actually has two brushes, and a silky durag inside. Fragile contents”, as the slender woman begins to sit next to me with laughter. “You’ve got jokes, I’ll give you that”, she says as I finally get a better look at her.

Now this is usually the part where you figure out that the person telling you the story is a pervert who likes to imagine that they know the breast size, waist size, exact height and shoe size of the woman they just saw for the first time. No thanks, I’d rather describe it in my own way. This woman had a nice black haired fro, filled with curls that were coiled tightly. Her slim physique was complemented by the dress she had chosen to wear- a ruby red dress that would’ve been able to take Dorothy back to Kansas with only three clicks. Her skin was a milk chocolate brown with Georgia clay undertones;it seemed to make the red in her dress never stop and her skin never begin because it flowed so well together. Her nails were a simple white French Tip, and they didn’t hold too much length to them. I feel like that should be ample deion enough for now- at least for you to know that she caught my attention with ease.

I had to think of a witty reply- cause you know, I got jokes and all- “You know, I’ve also got names. James is the first”.

“That’s good to know James, my name is Nina. At least the first.”

“Well it’s really a pleasure to meet you Nina.”

“Likewise.”

“Okay, so I’m pretty sure this is supposed to be your private time, but I really have to ask you something.”

“Already asking me questions, James? I haven’t even had my first drink yet. Where’s your sense of manners? Can I at least patronize the business before I choose to let you entertain me?”

“Fair enough, so I’ll ask while you order your first drink, and I’ll pay because I did forget my manners. Seems like a good compromise to me.”

“You know how to negotiate well James. It seems like you have yourself a deal. I’ll take a Sex on The Beach.”

Good Choice.

“Why this shitty bar? No offense, but this is really a I am really not caring about the quality of my liquor right now type bar, and you are dressed in a I'll be damned if I drink some Belvedere while Puff got Cîroc outfit.”

A pause, a laugh, and a sip later.

“This is my work outfit, James. I work across the street, and if I’m getting off this late I’ll be damned if I’m not feeling what I’m sipping. But I will also be damned.” she says, with trailing laughter.

“Noted.”

“James.”

“Nina.”

“Question.”

“Answer.”

A sip (maybe gulp) break.

“Why this shitty bar? Your shirt is tailored enough to say you have a bottle of Ace of Spades in your kitchen.”

“Everybody needs a Henny night.”

More sips and laughter.

“Nigga. Shut up. Everybody needs a Henny night my ass.”

I laugh. “It’s true!”

“You’re drinking Vodka and Cranberry, nigga.”

We both laugh, and she orders her second round of drinks.

“Fine. I had a long day, and I will eventually get into the Henny, alright?”

“I’ll be damned, you gonna get that Henny right now. Two shots for playing too damn much, for that matter.”

I smack my teeth, but order the double shot of Henny.

“What do you do for work, Nina?”

“I’m the CFO at the office across the street.”

“Ambitious. Looking to move onto CEO soon?”

“Of course. There hasn’t been a Black Woman as a CEO of a Fortune 500 since Ursula Burns.”

“Well, please don’t forget about James from the shitty bar when you’re promoted.”

We laugh.

“Well, James from the shitty bar, where do you work?”

I order another double shot, and take out a deep sigh.

“That’s why my ass is here. I just got laid off my job a couple weeks ago, and I’ve been looking for a job ever since. Obviously, to no avail.”

And I know my ass cannot afford anymore Henny, I need to slow down.

“I appreciate the honesty, James. It’s admirable. But now that I know your ass is broke, I need to step out for some fresh air.”

She leans over to grab her bag.

Shit.

“Shit.”

She starts to laugh, and I grab a napkin because apparently, I broke a sweat.

“You know I’m kidding, you’re not a bad drinking partner. Even if you don’t got a job.”

“And you know, you’re not too bad yourself. Even if you aren’t CEO.”

“Shutup, nigga.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She gives me a slight smirk.

And of course, the smirk is interrupted by a tired ass bartender who says that the bar is closing very soon. As in he just finished our tabs, and he put up his liquor into the cabinet. As in, we gotta go. Now.

“Are you going to walk me out to my car, James?”

“That depends, Nina.”

“On?”

“Whether or not I get to walk you to your door.”

I laugh, and step away from my barstool with my bag.

“I’m joking. I’d be delighted to walk you to car, Nina.”

She hesitates.

“Nigga, I swear if you’re some kind of creep…”

“Nina. I am not some kind of creep. I am some kind of unemployed, but I don’t have the time nor energy to be a creep.”

I pull out my wallet.

“James Richard Monroe.”, I state as I show her my ID.

“two first names, James. You are some kind of creep, nigga!”

We bust out laughing while I put my wallet away. She steps away from her barstool, and links her arm into mine while we walk out of the shitty bar.



I didn’t expect her to have such a nice ass car. I mean, I did- she is a CFO and all- but not such a nice ass car! It was a brand new Model X Tesla (it’s the damn SUV, with the autopilot), all black exterior with the tan leather interior. She got that damn car customized, to the T.

“I see why you’re so damn ready to get in your car. That shit is gonna drive you home, isn’t it?”

“Sure damn is, James Richard.”

“James works just as well, Nina.”

“I know something that could work a little better”, she whispers as she steps into the driver seat.

I clear my throat. “What did you say, Nina?”

“I said goodnight, James. Don’t let that Henny get you fucked up.”

“Goodnight my ass”, I mutter under my laugh.

“Huh?” She says with a grimace expression.

“I said goodnight, Nina. Don’t let that Sex on the Beach get you fucked up.”

“Well played.”

She starts her engine.

“When am I going to see you again, Nina?”

“That all depends, James.”

“On?”

“Whether I actually want to see you again.”

Shit.

“Shit.”

She laughs again. “I’m kidding. I might just be back at this shitty bar next week, if you want to take your chances.”

“I might just do that.”

“Well, goodnight James Richard. Two first name ass nigga.”

She chuckles as I shrug her off.

“Goodnight Nina. I’ll see you soon, that’s a promise.”

I hope it’s a promise I can keep. For now, I’mma order this damn uber and get home.

Did I mention Nina smells good as hell? Like some damn pineapples…



“I know you don't smoke weed, I know this; but I'm gonna get you high today, 'cause it's Friday; you ain't got no job... and you ain't got shit to do.”

This is the perfect movie to wake up to. Especially when you bought an eighth the other day, and you got a nice ass bong to hit it out of.

I wake up every morning at 7:30. It’s only because I’m so used to having work at 9am, and I like to take my sweet time waking up. Now, without a job, I just have to worry about interviews that are going to take up my time. I already know I have one scheduled at 12:00pm at a restaurant with some lady named Ms. Miller, for a lunch interview of all things. I do know this for sure- I’ve already had shitty luck so far, so why not show up a little baked so I can enjoy whatever shitty food they’re going to be serving for lunch anyways?

One pull.

Two pulls.

Three pulls.

Four pulls.

Cough break.

Fifth, and final pull.

You know, of all the things you can have on your mind when you’re high, my mind always likes to think of women. Especially beautiful women, that’s my favorite high thought. I think of past lovers, women who I have met before and even women I would like to meet one day (like KeKe Palmer, you know she loves to twerk on the ‘gram). Today was one of those high thoughts, but of course I was stuck on one person: Nina.

I barely got any information out of her, I only know where she works and what she likes to drink from time to time. I know she has a lot of money, especially since she has a self driving SUV. There’s really no need for me to even be on her radar, especially since I’m unemployed. But, you know what?

A nigga knows he’s cute.

And I am a damn catch if I say so myself. When my ass was working, I kept a nice stock of the best red wine I could find in my wine holder thing (it was a housewarming gift, I don’t really know what it’s called), I’m a pretty fit dude for my size, and I always have been told that I have an award winning smile. So I know her ass was into me.

But was she?

I’m too damn high at this point to even be worried about that shit. I’m probably gonna see her next week, and when I do she’s gonna get a piece of my mind.

Why didn’t you want to hang out with the boy?

You didn’t wanna give me your number?

Why did I get a MAYBE on seeing you again?

Why didn’t you take me to my place since you got that fancy ass car?

I could go on four hours on this shit.

But of course, it’s already 10am. My ass has been thinking about Nina for 3 hours straight.

And I am WAY higher than I thought I would be after three hours.

This was some great weed, I guess.

Time to get ready.

At 11:00, while getting in my so not a Model X Audi A4, I decide to call the company that I applied for, just to get some kind of jist of who I would be interviewing with. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to contact the interviewer themselves, but I figured that it would at least be worth a shot to try and test the waters of who I plan to be meeting with at lunch. Of course, i’m greeted with the assistant to Ms. Miller, a young man who had to be interning, because he sounded way too green to actually be working full-time in corporate America.

“Hello, this is Ms. Miller’s office! My name is Henry, how can I help you today?”

This nigga’s white voice is way too funny, I gotta laugh about this when I’m off the phone.

“Hi, Henry. This is James, I have a lunch interview with Ms. Miller in about an hour. How are you doing?”

“Um..let me see, let me see… Ah, James Monroe! I am doing wonderful today, how are you? You’re still going to make it to your interview, I hope!”

“Of course, Henry. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I actually called for another reason. Before i get into this interview, I wanted to see if you could tell me anything about Ms. Miller that I might need to keep in perspective before I go into this thing blind?”

Of course, Henry lets out a nervous laugh. This nigga is new as hell.

“Um, James.. Mr.Monroe…I’m actually pretty new here myself…”

Told you.

“...and this is really my second week on the job. I wasn’t even interviewed by Ms.Miller, because she had to go into another city to close a deal for our company. In the interactions I’ve had with Ms. Miller, she seems to be someone very invested in her work. She rarely leaves the office when she comes in, and she mainly contacts me through emails. Her emails aren’t mean in tone though! She’s just… passionate with her work, you know?”

“I guess I do now, Henry. One more question, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course!”

“Is she Black or white?”

“Um… I’m not sure why you would ask that actually…”

I’m telling y’all. This nigga right here.

“Henry. I know that this is your second week at this particular job, but judging by your response to my question I can tell that this is your second week in a job of this caliber. I’m gonna give you some free advice, because I’m unemployed right now but I’m not someone who lacks in experience. Do you know how many Black CEOs work are in Fortune 500 companies?”

“No…”

“Google it when you’re off this call with me. When you see that number, I want you to imagine that your boss wasn’t Black. You would find yourself having to always have something that DuBois would call a Double Consciousness.Constantly having to switch your image to fit something that a white person would find palatable while still trying to imagine a life that is yours without any kind of compromise to your character or your Blackness as a piece of your soul. Because that’s what I had to endure every day that I have worked in this industry. My Blackness has been pushed to the wayside for a long time. To be quite honest with you, I’m sure I could do it some more. But if I don’t have to put on two faces, I don’t want to. That’s why it matters, Henry.”

A long ass pause.

“She’s Black.”

“Thank you Henry. Another word of advice?”

“Yes?”

“The next time you pick up the phone, make sure that you keep a tone of power. People should get a hint of fear when they hear your voice.”

“Thanks for the tip.”

“No problem, Henry. I’m gonna get this job, and I will be your co-worker. I’d love to give you more advice when the time comes, but I’m about to be at this interview so wish me luck.”

“Good luck, James.”

Whoever Ms. Miller is, she has a wonderful choice of restaurants.

There’s a place in Atlanta called Ray’s on the River. Imagine that, times 100. It’s already know that choosing a restaurant that has a patio is always a plus. But when that patio has a small jazz quartet playing while you walk into a restaurant sets a completely different experience. The fact that almost 80 percent of the workers that I can see in the restaurant are Black adds to that experience 10-fold. I go up the hostess, telling them that I’m here for a interview with Ms. Miller and to my surprise I’m brought to a table with a woman in a well fitting black dress. Her face is hidden behind a menu, but I can smell pineapples off of her fragrance. A familiar pineapple, actually. Her menu is carefully placed down as she reaches for my hand and I can already tell that my hunch is correct:

Nina is holding my interview.

I could not be more damned if it were my own dead great-grandmother holding the interview.

She gives me a devilish grin.

“Nice to see you again, Mr. Richard.”

“The pleasure seems to be mine, Ms. Miller.”

“I think we’re past formality to some extent, James. I’m guessing you’ll be ordering Vodka and Cranberry again during lunch?”

“I don’t think that I’ll be drinking just yet, Nina. If I do, it won’t be a vodka and cranberry. I’d get a dirty martini, thank you very much.”

“Good to know. A man’s drink choice says a lot about him. You seem to have a very bitter palette from what I can tell so far.”

She motions for me to take a seat, and I do so with ease. I open up my briefcase and bring out a copy of my resume, even though I already know she has one. I really just wanna prove I don’t just keep two brushes and a silky durag, honestly.

“My palette is only bitter when I drink. I like to enjoy sweeter things when I’m actually eating.”

She chuckles.

“We can talk more about your palate after this interview, James. For now, I want to speak more about this resume that you politely handed me a second copy of.”

“By all means, I’m an open book.”

“How did you lose your previous job?”

“There was a series of layoffs that happened at the workplace. I just happened to be “expendable” to members of the Board. Ironically, I was only a few months away from being a part of the Board myself. I think the best way to describe it would be “collateral damage”, right?”

“That’s a good way of putting it, I suppose. You had worked there for a long time, I noted.”

“Yeah, it was my first job after getting my Master’s-”

“-at Howard.”

“Yes, at the Illustrious Howard University.”

“You’re too damn old to be adding adjectives to your school.”

“Not too damn old to be lighthearted, Nina.”

She lets out a small smile. The waiter comes to our table, and she orders two martinis for the table. I didn’t even get time to notice the waiter had come over before she finished ordering.

“Back to your previous job. What did you learn there, in your time?”

“The biggest lesson I learned is time spent without security is stupid. Had I been more aggressive in securing a position as a board member, I wouldn’t have found myself becoming someone's collateral damage.”

“Great. What else?”

“I learned to become more persuasive. Sometimes the most significant thing you say can come from a hushed tone and still resonate more with an individual. They call it ASMR now, but I just call it effective work. When needed.”

“Anything else?”

“That I came into the job very naive. I wish that I could have known the power of being assertive even when it wasn’t popular. It came in handy towards the later half of my tenure at my job, but I would;ve been farther along if I had trusted my gut and not tried to see the glass as half full all the time.”

“Fair point to make.”

Our drinks came right on time, because the interview taught me something about her that I wouldn’t have noticed with a few drinks on me.

Nina doesn’t take shit.

From anyone.

It’s a very sexy trait, honestly. The lack of compromise wasn’t in her voice, her posture, or even in her clothes. It was in her eyes. They were unrelenting. It was almost as if every time she looked at you, she immediately wanted a piece of your soul just because she knew she could handle it.

I’d definitely be willing to give her a piece of anything she wanted. All she had to do was ask.

All of this thought happened in a sip (gulp) break.

“James. You alright?”

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you just drank your whole Martini glass while staring at a ceiling fan.”

I have to let out an awkward ass laugh, because I know I look so dumb right now that it isn’t even funny.

“Yeah… I just got caught in thought, it happens to everyone at least once. That’s on me.”

“If that happens to be a second round, then by all means. My day is cleared, I just thought I would hold this interview to give me something work related to do.”

“Ah, I understand. I’m just a break for you.”

We both begin to laugh.

“Not a break, just a change of pace. I think as much work as I do in the office, it’s important to keep myself grounded in the real world outside of my office. I stay there most of the time just to handle my job and to build my career, but a career isn’t anything if you don’t have a life outside of it.”

“That’s very true. How has the life building gone so far for you?”

“I can’t complain really. I have a nice life, something that I’m proud of. Something I made for myself without letting anyone or anything change it.”

“Then what’s the next step now?”

“First, I want to finish this interview as quickly as I can. I can see from your resume that you’re very qualified. I know from personal experience that you can quickly assess a situation and figure out how you can fit the mold, so I don’t see why there would be any issue hiring you. Our starting salary would have to be $125,000 a year, and we would give you the same benefits that you would get at any other company like this one. How would that sound?”

“It would actually be really great to get a job like this. I did some light research into the company before applying and I know that there’s always an opportunity for the company to expand into different fields, and a financial advisor like myself would definitely help set up some sound business mergers that could grow the company’s revenue and reach.Of course, this wouldn’t be immediate, but I know for sure that over time I could be a great asset to your team. If you would have me, of course.”

“Then it’s settled, I’ll have you.”

Either she just said some magic words, or this little ass martini glass packed more alcohol than I imagined.

“Perfect. I guess the interview is over then, Nina?”

“Yes, it is. You now owe me a second round…”

I notice that I’ve been doing nothing but staring into her eyes this whole time. There’s something very unrelenting about those eyes of hers, I promise. The deep brown hue that highlights itself in the light is a trance I can’t get out of unless she wants me out of it. I have a love hate relationship with eyes like that. They’re nothing but trouble.

BUt of course, she blinks and I can quickly step out of my trance to see that her martini glass is also empty. The waiter comes, and I’m the one to quickly order the second round of drinks with a small appetizer (because it’s super rude to drink all day without putting something on your stomach before).

“Okay, second round handled. I have a couple questions while we wait though.”

“Go ahead, James Richard. I’m an open book.”

I take a big huff and smile:

“Why didn’t you want to hang out with the boy?You didn’t wanna give me your number? Why did I get a MAYBE on seeing you again? Why didn’t you take me to my place since you got that fancy ass car?”

She laughs.

“I didn’t know how ain’t shit you might’ve been. This resume helped clear things up. I don’t give out my number to people I just met. It’s cliche and you only see it in lame ass books, or movies that have to end a narrative within a certain amount of time. I live in the real world, James. I don’t give out my number easily. You got a maybe because of the same reason I used for your first question: I didn’t know how ain’t shit you might’ve been. I wasn’t going to your place even if Jesus Christ himself told me to, I don’t know you like that. My car is fancy though, don’t you like it?” She asks as the waiter arrives with our second round and appetizer. She takes a small sip.

“Question, James.”

“Why didn’t you want to hang out with the girl?You didn’t wanna give me your number? Why did you expect more than a MAYBE on seeing you again? Why didn’t you take me to your place since you saw that fancy ass car?

“I definitely wanted to see you again. I just don’t like to be to abrasive in my approach with people, because you can do more harm than actual good. I wouldn’t give my number on a 50:0 chance! I didn’t expect any kind of answer, but I know that a nigga knows he’s cute. That makes me a damn catch, if I say so myself. You were to busy swerving off with your self-driving shit for me to even attempt to ask!”

She laughs as she finishes her drink. I chuckle and begin to guzzle mine.

“Then ask me now.”

I have to choke on that drink, because what?

“What?”

“Ask me now. This is your chance to take me to your place.”

“Shiit… You don’t have tell me tw-thrice! Would you like to come over? I need an hour to get my place presentable, but I’d love to give you a fun day off.”

She smiles, and hands me back my resume (Second copy).

“I’ll give you two hours. Text me your address in an hour, I don’t feel like being in this dress, so I’m going to use my time to change.Plan accordingly, James Richard.”

She gets up, kisses my cheek playfully and walks from the table.

I had to look back at her as she walked.

Because I have no damn clue what just happened. Like at all.

She left me with the ticket too, shit.

At least I got a job now.

“Doing 80 in a 60, fuck a ticket…”

You ever have to Facetime your friend after some crazy shit happened?

That’s me. 1000 percent. In the Audi too, cause I’m on a tight ass schedule.

Boodoodoodoodoo.

Boodoodoodoodoo.

Boodoodoodoodoo.

“Hello?”

“NIGAAAAAAA.”

“What, damnit? Calling me all wild and shit outta nowhere… know I hate when niggas do that shit.”

“Aye Bro-my bad, my bad- but you will not imagine what the fuck just happened in two days…”

“You finally got a job, nigga?”

My face got so flat when he said that. You think I’mma just call my boy about getting a job?

Okay, I would, but that’s beside the point.

“Yes nigga, I got a job. That’s not what I’m calling about fool, at least not in particular.”

“Bruh, if yo’ ass ain’t calling me talking ‘bout you got another six-figure job, I don’t wanna hear shit.”

“Even if the shawty who gave me the job is pulling up to my crib in… 1 hour and 50 minutes?”

“NIGGAAAA.”

“I’M SAYING NIGGAA! THIS SHIT IS SOOO WILD BRO YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE THIS SHIT.”

“Then tell me! And stop yelling, you know I got newborn twins and shit.”

“Aight, aight. My bad. Tell Keisha I said sorry too…”

“She went diaper shopping, you good. What’s up?”

“So yesterday, I don’t get any jobs from my interviews, right?”

“Right.”

“I decide I’mma take my ass to this shitty bar, cause I got a little money put away for times like this. You know?’

“Yeah, I get it, like some rainy day shit.”

“Exactly, some rainy day shit bro. I’m at this bar, I get some lame ass Tito’s and Cranberry cause I’m tired. Bartender taking 50 years to get me my drink and shit.”

“Nigga. Too many details. Where’s the story going?”

“Okay. So this woman eventually comes in, looking good as hell. She has on this RED-ass dress, it was so nice. There’s nowhere to sit at the bar, so she sits next to me. We vibing or whatever, and she tells me how she’s this CFO at some corporation. Keep in mind, this is a shitty bar. Like shitty bar, bro. So I ask her why she’s here instead of the usual nice-ass bar. Right?”

“Right. What did she say?”

“She’s like, (in my fake ass Alicia Keys shit) ‘I work across the street, and I got off late so I just need something strong.”

He’s bursting into laughter.

“Nigga, I know you didn’t just go all Alicia Keys and shit!!!”

“Keep listening, nigga.”

“Okay, so she Alicia Keys’ing your ass and you..

“...and I eventually tell her that I’m at the bar after job hunting and shit.”

“I know your ass didn’t admit to being unemployed.”

“Shutup, nigga. It works out. Keep listening.”

“Okay. She knows you’re unemployed..”

“And SHE KEEPS VIBING. We just chilling, vibing, and doing our thing until the bar closes. I walk her to her car… and tell me why she got one of them Tesla SUVs and shit!”

“Nigga, your ass is out of your league being unemployed.”

“For real though. I ask her if I’ll see her again, and she says maybe. Niggas were sick.”

“HA! I knew it.”

“But!”

“Oh?”

“I had an interview at 12, with the same woman. And she’s going to be at my crib in…. Shit! In an hour and a half! I’m still trying to get some light groceries cause I ain’t got shit in this house…”

“Nigga. You hang up this phone right now, and get your shit together. Talk to my ass later.”

“You right. I’ll let you know if today is a good day or not.”

BoopBoopBoop.

Just so you know, I was on the phone with my boy Phil, he’s been my boy since I was at Howard. He’s married now at 28, and just had twin girls. He wanted boys, so life gave him what he needed. I’ll probably talk about him later.

Right now I’m in a rush to get back to my crib.

I’ll spare you the details on my grocery shopping.

Just know I restocked on the Red wine.



At the one-hour-remaining mark, I realise I still don’t have her number. But of course, I do, because she gave me back my resume. She would be just sarcastic enough to put it on a piece of paper she didn’t want in the first place. Luckily I kept it in my pocket out of confusion. I quickly unfolded it and sent my text:

Hey NIna, this is James. We’re at the one-hour mark, so I wanted to send you my location. I figured that might be a little easier to pull up navigation for. Let me know if that works for you.

Five minutes later, I get my reply:

Hey James. I have you locked in, I’ll be there in an hour. Be ready!

I set down my phone and look at my place to see that I need to clean that shit, and quickly. I go to my surefire cleaning technique and start by burning incense. Butt Naked is always the Blackest choice, so I’m gonna go with that one today. I already know that I gotta get my vibe right, so I start off with my good Isley Brothers. For the Love of You if you want to know the exact song. I strip down, throwing my outfit into my dirty clothes hamper until I’m fully nude. I turn on my shower so it can be warm by the time I step into it. I go into my room, and begin picking up all the loose articles that I scattered across my room from the past couple of days, I strip my bed and immediately throw everything into the washing machine, because who wouldn’t put fresh sheets on a bed if you got a guest coming over? I grab a new set of sheets from my linen closet, and begin to make up the bed meticulously. There’s a wonderful feeling that you get from having a clean house, and by the time 20 minutes have passed, I am living in Euphoria. Knowing I have roughly 35 minutes left, I give myself 15 minutes to clean and moisturize my body. The first stick of incense has burned by the time I make it out of the shower, so I light another one just to be sure that my house smells wonderful. I step into my kitchen, still naked, cleaning dishes to make sure everything is in good order. I am finally done getting everything in order, with only 10 minutes to spare. I rush into my room to throw on some grey sweats (because everyone loves grey sweats) and a white tee.

And of course, the outfit wouldn’t be complete without the chain.

Here I am now, completely dressed to impress Nina who is set to arrive…

Now apparently.

I hear a knock on my door the moment I finish applying a bit of cologne, and I walk to it with a calm pace. By this time, Al Green is teaching me about Love & Happiness, and I am obliged to open the door. I am shocked to see that Nina has her hair in a low ponytail, complemented with a fitness-style tank top and leggings to match. She definitely came through to come through. I hope. Either way, she felt the boy enough to come here in a relaxed manner, and for that I’m already winning in my book.

“Hey, Nina.”

“How are you, James Richard?”

“I’m good, I’m good! Please come in, I don’t like to let people sit outside my door for too long.”

She smiles as she enters.

She has a beautiful ass smile, I swear to you all. It’s like heaven on Earth.

As if it was on queue, Miguel’s Come Through and Chill turns on.

“I know you are not burning Butt Naked incense!” she says with a laugh as she surveys my home. I laugh a bit.

“I feel like it’s a Black classic! The fact that you knew the scent is a confirmation, Nina.”

“It’s not the only familiar scent appearantly. I didn’t know you smoked, James.”

I turn around to see her holding my bong.

Shit.

“Shit.”

She laughs even harder.

“I don’t care, James. I smoke too, and it’s my day off. Do you have anymore?”

I let out a bit of a laugh.

“It should be inside of that fake ass Harry Potter book right there. I hollowed it out when I was a senior in high school.”

“You smoked back then?”

“No, but I used Tumblr. Same difference, really. Everything was done for an aesthetic back then.”

“That makes so much more sense now. You don’t have a normal ‘in my 20s’ style bachelor pad. It’s much more composed and thought out.”

She opens the book, and takes out a bud or two to put inside the bowl.

“Yeah, I guess old habits don’t go away so easily, right?”

“Something like that.”

“What’s your old habit then, NIna?”

“You’ll have to get that out of me another time.”

Blubblublublblub.

“I’ll take that for now. Would you like some wine, by chance?”

“I’d...love..some..”

She had to take a cough break.

“I cleaned my bowl the other day, so the pulls should be a little harder than usual. Sorry I didn’t give you enough of a warning.”

She smiles.

“It’s fine, James. I think I’ll take a break from the bong for a little bit though, and stick to the wine.”

I walk over to her with an empty glass in one hand, the bottle in another.

“You know, I owe you an apology.”

“For?”

“Not telling you how beautiful you are. I’ve had a lot of chances for me to tell you that i find you to be super attractive, but I never did. Mostly because your style is the pull up and shock people deal. Now I have the home field advantage.”

“An advantage that can only get you so far, James.”

“Jay works too.”

“Well, Jay. If you have home field advantage like you claim to have, prove it.”

Let’s take a moment right here to analyze what just happened. You see, when you were younger and you wanted to flirt there were two words that always meant that you were onto something: make me.

There was always something abuot that challenge to make someone you liked to do something, that you would try anything in the world to make that person do that one thing. Whether it was be quiet, to listen to someone, or to even just remotely care- you would want to make that person do it. It was considered one of the lamest but trustworthy fliring tactics to ever exist.

What Nina just did was give a grown folks’ make me.

I will not let that go to waste.

I placed the glass on the table behind her, placing my hand to her jaw as i placed a stern, yet gentle, kiss onto her lips. She responded with a devilish smirk.

“Home field advantage proven, I believe.”

She chuckles as she takes the wine bottle out of my other hand, bringing it to her waist (which was snatched, if I didn’t mention before).

“It seems to me the game just started, Jay.” She says before bringing her lips back to mine.

Her lips felt like velvet. There was a light texture to them that complimented the warmth her lips brought. It only made the fact that she had such full lips feel so much more encompassing of how much of a woman she was. The kiss didn’t have to be sensual, it just simply showed that her eyes weren’t the only thing that existed without compromise. We stayed in our position for a good 2 to 3 minutes, before my hand made way to her ass. I know that I said I wouldn’t be that nigga, but this time I have to be that nigga.

Everytime that I saw Nina, I admired her ass. It had a nice plump shape to it, something that any person on this earth who had eyes would sit and say “That is a nice ass.” Hell, I even saw a couple look at her ass while she left the interview! That being said, you still could’ve been a pessimist and thought to yourself “It’s probably some rough-ass ass. All firm and shit, like concrete.”

I am so happy to tell you that you could not be anymore wrong. There was something about the way her body felt, it just made my skin melt to the touch. It was definitely Devil’s Food that she got back there.

All of a sudden, she stopped our kissing and stepped away from me.

“Nina, is everything cool? I thought we were vibing…”

“Oh we were vibing. But I don’t want to vibe.”

“Well then, what do you want to do.”

“James, I’m going to be completely honest with you. I didn’t come here to just small talk our way into best friends or kiss our way into a relationship. I want to fuck. I don’t want any bullshit ‘are you ready for this’ talk, I don’t want to act like we’re gonna kiss until I leave like some teenagers. We’re going to fuck, because it’s my day off and I want some dick. You cool with that?”

“Of course. You only had to say the word.”

“Good.”

She smiles, and steps out of every inch of her clothing. She smirks as I stare at her amazing body, and I know she can see my dick getting harder because I purposely did not wear boxers.

I follow suit, because I honestly have no idea where she might want to this vibe but I’m down.

“This was a good wine you chose…” she says, opening the bottle.

“I’m glad you like it.”

The next thing I know, she’s pouring the red wine across her chest and shoulders.

“I think i spilled some..”

I step back over to her, grabbing her bare ass while my lips meet her velvet again. This time, I take no reservations as i take my lips away from her lips onto her neck. I bring my kisses down to her jaw, slowly nibbling and biting my way to learn her soft spots. With every kiss, I listen for a moan or gasp to make sure I’m pleasing her properly. I imagined that since she was in a mood for sex without any kind of setbacks, I knew that her sensitivity would be on ten. I was correct. With every kiss, i felt her breath sharpen. With every nibble, I felt her moans on my ear, and with every lick, she let out a soft gasp. I traveled my way down from her jaw onto her collar bone, where the red wine trail began. The combination of her skin tone with the redwine was something out of a Venetian painting, and i wanted my tongue to become the paintbrush itself. I worked my way around her skin as if it were a canvas, not leaving one area untouched. I made it to her breasts, and her nipples had perked from the warm up that had come to her body. I greeted them with soft kisses, but eventually turned them into a passionate sucking that would be complemented with my hads cusping and massiging her breasts with care. Nipples and red wine are a pairing that I would’ve never imagined. Good thing i got to live the experience to keep in mind for the next time. The more attention I brought to her chest, the more her body writhed in pleasure. I saw her legs begin to cross over and over, so I politely picked her up, and carried her into my room.

Without warning, I gently threw her onto my bed, where I climbed in and got back to work onto my painting. I began to lick down and around her navel, and she continued to squirm and moan in pleasure. I knew at that moment, I had to get a taste of her. I looked up into her eyes as I took my hands to her knees and slowly spread them apart. She nods her head as she gets her breathing under control, and I bring my lips to her thighs, kissing my way to her pearl.

If you’ve ever seen a timelapse of a flower blooming, you have the slightest idea of how beautiful it was to see her pussy reveal itself to be pleased. The scent of her pheromones reached my nose, and I knew it was going to be such a pleasure eating her until she came on my lips.i continued to kiss around her clit gently, letting her arousal peak as much as it could (or better yet, as much as my arousal could peak). I started with a gentle peck on her clit, to see the sensitivity that she had. She immediately grabbed my head and said to be in a clear, direct tone:

“Jay, eat my pussy good… Make me cum…”

After that, she began to push my head into her clit harder, and I began going to work.

Her pussy was one that glistened as it got wet. She wasn’t creamy, and her juices were so sweet that I could stay down on her for as long as she wanted. I began with slow and long licks, then I began to speed up the pace.

“Jay, keep speeding up….”

I followed her directions from that point on.

“Faster.”

“Jay, lick that clit good, ooh yes!”

“Right...there...oooh, don’t stop… right… yes!!”

“Keep eating that pussy, Jay…”

“MMMMM”

“Keep that head still, Jay… Right there…”

When she said that, she began grinding against my tongue. She had gotten so wet, my chin was soaked from everything that had dripped on the bed.

“Oh, Jay… Lick my clit and make me cum. Right now!! Oooo, Jay, lick it….”

I followed my directions, and the next thing I heard was a harsh squeal that was combined with a soft gush coming from her sweet pussy. She was a squirter, and she wanted me to get out every drop she could give.

So I licked her even faster.

“Fuck..Jay...FUCK!!!”

The second time, her squirt came out harder, to my surprise. I loved her taste so much, I didn’t let any of it spill from my face. I slowly lifted my face from her mound, and she crawled over to me in the bed. She grabbed my dick with command, and I hardened even more to her touch.

“You’re gonna fuck me good with this dick…” she moaned as she began to wrap her lips around my dick. Instinctively, I gripped her ponytail and guided her mouth as she sucked me as if she had been taken over with pleasure. Maybe she had, cause I did a really good job with giving her head. She began slurping around it faster and faster, and I knew if she kept going, I wouldn’t be able to give her the fucking she wanted from the beginning. I told her to stop, and the moment she did, I turned her around doggystyle while reaching in the drawer next to the bed for a condom. I put it on quickly, and began to enter her gently.

“Jay...Fuck me good…please…”
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