WE PULL UP IN FRONT of the movie theater. Craig backs into the first empty space he sees. Chanelle and Craig each climb out of Dingy. Qalbee gestures to Craig to go ahead and leave us behind. Not saying a word, Chanelle’s arms rise to her hips and her hands and eyes asks ‘ya’ll not comin?’ in disappointment. I shake my head. The look of empathy plasters her face as her arms and shoulders fall- she understands clearly. Chanelle knew that I wanted my intimate time alone with my Comedy, my Heart. She turns away and walks around to the front of Dingy where Craig is waiting. They walk off.
Qalbee and I speak simultaneously.
“I'm not going to tell you how sad I was that you weren't at my…”
“I’m so sorry to miss your…”
“Graduation” we say in concord.
I’m not even upset anymore now that he is here in my presence; and not because he apologized, but because no matter how sad or upset I am with him, I’m unable to resist his enchanting aura.
“It just seems that when I need you most, you’re not there”.
“Yaya, I know. I just have so much going on”.
“But you know you can talk to me about anything. I mean, I'm so in love with you, and I don't know what to do.” I sit up from leaning against his shoulder.
He stares.
I turn towards him sliding between both his legs that now lay down flat, bogarting my bent knees between his lap and resting on the back of my calves.
“I know you don't love me, but you do care about me…” I’m confident.
His look is impassive.
I continue “…and I'm cool with that. All I want from you is your trust and for you to open up to me.”
He begins shaking his head.
I take both his hands in mine; and hold them and squeeze them.
“I'm begging you to let me be here for you”.
“Yaya, Yaya, Sh, Sh. I know” he leans forward and comforts my cheeks with those delicate fingers again- then slides his welcomed tongue into my mouth. His right hand eases under my shirt and he strokes my left nipple with his three middle fingers; and both nipples harden- then his open palm cups my areola massaging my breast. I’m in complete bliss! I close my eyes in effort not to dwell on the fact that I’m surrendering to these inapt- and oh so yearning proceedings in full strength daylight. Oodles of fluid extract my essence- I attempt to hide my nervousness, but I perspire to his every touch. He slides his left hand under my sweats, into my panties, and then enters his middle and index finger into my vagina, massaging deep within my core- I moan. My body is drenched with covetousness. He unleashes his tongue, works it down to my neck and sucks with passion. I then feel his nose between my breasts as he slides his right palm across to my other breast grazing my nipple continuing down to my stomach. I feel his breath descending further as he pulls my sweats down to my ankles using both hands. Synergic with his touch, I feel the ray of sun heat my nude thighs. His hands grip each of my knees and spread my bare legs, introducing the lips of my vagina to the pure light of day. I peek to see if anyone is around, but I only glimpse the top of Qalbee’s perfect waves as he descends towards my happy place, shielding my exposed lips. I feel wet muscle enter. His tongue swirls with rhythm- gentle, hard, slow, fast… easy. I moan. He continues… swirling- gentle, hard, slow, fast… easy. I gush. His tongue eases out. I gasp. He looks up instantly, and by the look in his eyes I knew someone was coming. I quickly pull my sweats up. He dives beside me, ramming his back against the rear window; then he wipes his mouth on my sleeve. He stares… then smirks… I glare- we chuckle under our breaths! Two Caucasian men walk up to the 3 Series Beamer parked next to Dingy. They scramble into luxury, slam their doors and start the engine. Qalbee and I burst out chortling. My heart palpitates as my palms saturate along with the rest of my body. My cotton mouth is as dry as the juices that stick to my skin between my thighs. I look over to the right of me catching Qalbee’s smile, revealing his slightly crooked tooth; and then our eyes meet. I lift my hands to his shoulders, straddle on top of him, hug his checks between my palms, and lean my furrowed lips to his. I peck him with enthusiasm and desire. My arms embrace his neck and I rest my ear on his shoulder. I inhale him. His arms envelop my waist; and he squeezes me in such a way that feels as compulsory as the blood flowing through his veins and the pumping of his heart as if I’m his oxygen to breath.