Kenya laughed lightly and shook her head in disbelief. She could not believe her friend’s point of view. The car grew silent again until Kenya turned into Terri’s driveway and the light in the house came on.
“I’ll catch you tomorrow, Ken.”
“You think about what I said. Alright crazy lady?”
Terri exited the car. Continuing up the walkway to the front door of her beautiful house, she chuckled to herself as she thought back on the encounter with the Double Knit Players at The Conch Republic. Chapman opened the door before she could get the key fully into the lock. Startled by the sudden opening of the door.
“Hey Babe, what’s up?”
“Same old, same old,” responded Terri as she forced a smile and entered the house.
“How was your day? How did the meeting go?”
She barely responded as she continued through the house and Chapman followed, but not too close. Terri had a hair trigger and it didn’t take much to set her off.
Chapman thought deeply as he followed her through the house. “Why the hell do I have to be the nice one all the damn time?
I treat her with the utmost respect. I come to my castle and I have to walk on fuckin’ eggshells. If I were a nasty brother I would grab her ass by the throat and choke the shit out of her. But no…I vowed to myself just before we got married that if anyone messes up this marriage, it would not be Chapman Sweet. I’m going to keep my mouth shut and see if she comes around.”
Terri continued into the bedroom and began to take off her clothes. She seemed a little looser than usual, as she looked at herself in the mirror. She took off her jacket and tossed it onto the chair in the corner, dropped her pants and tossed them on top of her jacket. Chapman lounged on the bed as he watched. He pretended it was one of those striptease dances that Terri used to do when they first got married.
“I wonder why she doesn’t do those anymore,” Sweet thought to himself. He could not understand the changes in their relationship.
* * * * *
“There is nothing I would not do for Terri. There are some things I thought I would never do for any woman. But, I wound up doing them for Terri. Hell, I even did what most black men don’t do, or do and lie and say they don’t do. I never did that for another woman in my life. I hated it at first, but then I realized my oral power, my tongue had a way of taming the Shrew in her on an entirely higher level than me penetrating with my want. It appeared to work like magic. If I could keep my face between her naked thighs and hand her one hundred dollar bills at the same time, I would probably stand a chance at making her happy. The only time she would want me to get up, would be to allow her to pee, shower, or get her back rubbed so she could go to sleep. Occasionally she just might allow me to assume the missionary position so she could get her quarterly penis stimulated orgasm. Oh yeah! Now black men can’t be like we think men of other ethnic and cultural persuasions are. We think they have so much oral sex; they put their penis out of business.”
Terri bent over to inspect her stockings. Runs were visible in the back of both legs. She felt the holes and pulled the pantyhose off, starting at the waist. She unsnapped her bra in the front to unleash what Chapman believed to be one of the most perfect set of breast God had ever bestowed on a woman since Eve. She had nipples that any man or child would be glad to suckle, and any woman would be glad to call her own. If you were standing close to her when she had her shirt off and took a deep breath, she could poke your eyes clean out of your head.
The striptease continued as Chapman pretended not to pay attention. Terri had on a cream colored thong with a little red bow in the center of the back. He believed he was in line for some intimate activity for the second night in a row. For some reason, he thought it was safe to talk to Terri about what he believed was on her mind. She was still standing in front of the mirror examining her body. Positioning herself in the mirror so she could see Chapman’s face, Terri spoke with her chin down on her chest.
“Do you think I have a good body? I mean, am I still fine to you? Do you think other men still look at me, and want me?”
Chapman pauses as he rapidly processes the maze of questions that Terri put to him.
“Damn! Not another one of these hypothetical discussions. You know what? No matter what I say, I am always wrong. Hell yeah, you got a great body. You are as fine as can be! I see men looking at you all of the time when we are out on the town. And like them, if I had the chance I’d do you like a math problem right now.”
Just the thought of blurting this out got him excited. Instead, he held his breath before answering her.
“Terri you know the answer to all of those questions is yes. You know I speak the truth to you all the time about this same subject.”
Terri turned to face Chapman then walked over to the edge of the bed and kneeled down in front of him. Lying back on his pillow, his confused mind worked feverishly to calculate her next move. She sprang upon the bed like a lioness stalking her next meal, and then she laid down next to Chapman, close enough for him to reach over and touch her. He resisted. Instead, he touched the remote and shut off the light on the ceiling fan. The stillness in the room allowed them to hear the rain showers tapping against the windowpane, sounding like a primal call of the wild. He moved deliberately and stealthily off of the bed and to his feet. Crossing the space between the bed and the window in complete darkness, he opened the window. On his way back to the bed he switched the ceiling fan on the slowest setting. Regaining his position in the bed Chapman initially made no advances toward Terri. Tired of lying with his arm under his head, he stretched out his arm and placed it under Terri’s pillow and pulled her close. In the faint light provided by the moon, he was able to see her roll her eyes in anticipation of his next move. He wanted to make a move on her. But fought to restrain himself. He merely leaned over and kissed her on the lips.
“Good night. I hope you don’t regret having those drinks in the morning.”
Reaching over and feeling for Chapman’s face, she pinched his lips together and then playfully pulled the hair on his chin. In a twisted way, he was grateful for the attention she was showing him, even though she seemed to be under the influence of alcohol. He silently wished that she were in a clearer state of mind, because then he could know if she really wanted to be there. Swimming in uncertainty, he decided to weave his own fantasy and pretend that she wanted just what he wanted. And with that settled in his mind, Chapman rocked her in his arms, knowing deep down in the recesses of his heart, that what was in his arms was a shell of the woman he had fallen in love with, over all the others.
“For better or for worse. I have had my fill of worse, I deserve much better,” he lamented inside as Terri continued to fall deeper into her intoxicated slumber.
Beguiled
The theme song for the Tom Joyner Morning Show was rocking away as the alarm clock clicked on at 06:00 AM.
“Good morning Players. This is the Hardest Working Man in radio. The Fly Jock Tom Joyner and my side kicks Sybil Wilkes, and J. Anthony Brown. Our special guest for today will be Dr. Love Jones. He is a player extraordinaire and a self-proclaimed relationship doctor. If he can’t fix your love, you might as well throw it out in today’s garbage.”
Chapman walked through the door and placed a tray on the bed in the space he slept in before he walked over to Terri’s side of the bed. Placing his hand on her shoulder, he shook her ever so gently.
“Terri, wake up.”
She responded by stretching without even lifting her head. He shook her again. She looked up at him as if the light on the other side of her eyelids was burning her eyes.
“I got some goodies for you” Chapman