speechless...
a rendezvous in brooklyn.
it was this past saturday night when i experienced an intimacy like no other. there he stood, mask on, 6’4 in all of his chivalrous glory. let’s call him “db.” i’m usually loud and boisterous as he typically expects but i was nervous. his presence commands a different energy. we met a few years ago under different circumstances yet seven years later, here we were in his temporary apartment for work. a quaint place for someone his stature but he wasn’t paying for it so it didn’t matter. what i knew in that moment was i wanted him...every morsel that made up his being.
i don’t recall being this wide open for anyone where i verbally spoke the things on my mind. how he looked like a whole ass snack and a meal. that he was sexy. that he could get it sideways. that i got my ya-ya snatched. that i had on a matching panty and bra. it didn’t matter because he could have it all.
his chivalrous ways were so cool. me standing 5 foot, 2 inches, he was a giant to me, pushing the door open so i could walk underneath him. standing on the side closest to the road. paying for dinner. standing in all of his masculinity that flowed so easily. not toxic or performative, just easy.
he asked me if i smoked. i didn’t but i would with him. i’d ___ with him. he pulled out the pipe and i told him he’d have to walk me through how to use it. he offered to “shotgun” me (blow the smoke directly in my mouth) and i said ok not knowing what to expect. he turned to me and while his lips touched mine, he blew the smoke into my soul. my silly ass was mesmerized by his lips touching mine, i missed the instructions. we laughed and eventually did it again. this time, he grabbed my face and smoothly blew the smoke into my soul again. i inhaled it this time. all systems go.
i knew it was on after our lips touched. i was coyly playing with his face before i turned to kiss him because i knew i wouldn’t be able to resist. his kisses were everything i’ve been missing. the pulling me closer, the right amount of tongue. just the right amount of everything. he lifted me on top so i could straddle him while we were making out. he held me tight. i could kiss him for hours, days, weeks, months, years. he was the fraction of intimacy that i’d been craving and that i wanted [and needed] in the moment. pulling me closer to him as we kissed. me holding the back of his neck softly. i just couldn’t take it.
aunt flow arrived hours before i pulled up to his apt so we didn’t go all the way although the time we spent was more than enough. seasoned in age and experience, he gave some of these “see spot run” negroes, i’ve entertained in my past, a run for their money. i realized i kept settling and that i needed to step my game up on demanding more. his bare minimum treatment of me wasn’t even standard treatment by other ppl i dealt with. lessons learned from intimacy with an older man.
in my best bridgerton words, “my body burnnned for him.” i’m neither shy or embarrassed by the feeling. i was present in every moment with him. every kiss with him. every touch with him. a physical and mental presence intertwined that i don’t experience often. why the sudden change and elevation with him? maybe because i know i only have this proximity to him while he’s in town for work.
either way, i don’t want to waste any time somewhere else when i’m with him. he has all of me even for the night just like i have all of him even for the night.
part deux rendezvous in harlem perhaps...