outdoor park

Author’s Note: Life has been hectic of late and I struggle to find the time to write. But never fear. I am determined to finish this story and chapter 5 is already in the works. Hope you enjoy the read!


Diary Entry 1/02/2013

I can’t sleep.

My mind is going a whirlpool, wondering, questioning, making my heart hope and believe in things I thought beyond my reach. There are a lot of maybes and what ifs.

What if sex can be as explosive as my dreams portray? What if love burned as hot as my erotic novel collection swore? What if fantasy became real life? What if…

And if those things are more than my mind’s fiction, am I woman enough to grasp onto the possibility even if it is no more than just a spark?


I smooth my hands down my side, brushing away imaginary wrinkles from the dress. Lovely had insisted on taking me shopping for what she deemed “this special occasion” and basically threatened to withhold my supply of cupcakes if I did not get the little black number. I suppose it is better than the slacks and blouse I originally planned to wear.

It cups the fullness of my breasts in a deep ‘V’ design that shows off a hint of cleavage without being slutty. Tight below my bust, it flares out dramatically over my hips and ends around my knees. It is designed to showcase my curves rather than hide them as I would have done.

My curls are straightened and my hair falls in layers around my artfully but subtly made up face. There are simple diamond studs in my ears and a matching necklace shimmering on my chest. The red heels on my feet had a dramatic pop of color and match the clutch on the bed.

I look… good. Better than good. After the afternoon of plucking, waxing and snipping Lovely dragged me on, I should, I snort internally. Twisting this way and that I still cannot believe the results reflected in the full-length mirror on the back of my bedroom door.

The doorbell rings and the nerves I have been able to suppress thus far twist my stomach into knots and make my palms clammy. Yuri insisted we do this “right” and as a result got ready for our date elsewhere and is now picking me up.

I leave the bedroom and open the door, my breath catching. He is wearing a dark blue suit, the first button of the white shirt underneath undone. My heels put my eyes almost level with his lips. The lower one is a lighter shade that the top and is plump enough to be considered feminine. It is not though. I remember the way they fit over mine, kissing in that way that only black men seem to know how. Devouring. Tempting. Consuming.

Does he go down on a woman the same way?

My cheeks flush.

I distract myself by taking in the rest of his appearance. He is clean shaven, the stubble that usually shadows his face at this time of day gone. I can smell his aftershave. His glasses are gone. He must be wearing contacts.

He is gorgeous.

“You’re gorgeous!”

My eyes snap up to his at the soft words. His eyes are undeniably hungry and sweep my figure in a way that makes me feel stripped, spread and trembling in anticipation. He does not speak for a few moments, his intensity robbing me of speech as well. Then a semblance of Yuri, my friend, returns. Smiling, he says, “You clean up good,” and hands me a single red rose.

Bringing the flower to my nose, I return his smile. “You didn’t do so bad yourself.”

“I’m so glad you think so. I was sure these pants make my ass look big.”

Grinning, I feel the lingering nervousness flow out of my body. “Turn around and let me see.”

He looks at me over his shoulder and raises his jacket. “What do you think? Do I need to hit the gym?”

Unable to curb the impulse I squeeze the right cheek. Pretending I have a pair of glasses perched on my nose, I look at the experimentally, grabbing a feel of the left one as well. “Nice. It’s pretty firm and high. I’d say you’re allowed a few more chocolate bars before it turns into a sack of jiggling goo.”

He gives a huge sigh of relief and turns around. “Oh thank god! I thought I’d have to stop sneaking pieces out of the secret stash you have in the kitchen.”

My jaw slackens. I did not think he knew. “I knew some was missing.”


I try to scowl but laughter burst free instead. “Come on in here, you goof. I need to get my purse.”

In my bedroom, I heave a huge sigh. Not the heavy, resigned kind but the is-this-really-happening-to-me, happy kind. The woman in the mirror is pink cheeked with a smitten smile and shining eyes. Have I ever looked so… in love? I try to control my face but my muscles refuse to adopt the cool look I want.

I thought tonight would be awkward but the ease we have with each other is still there. Smelling the rose again, I smile at my reflection before turning away. This is already turning out to be the best date of my life.

When I return from my bedroom with the tiny clutch and a shawl, he is leaning against a window overlooking the street below. I take the moment to look him over again and still that tingle races up and down my body at the sight he makes. Like he feels my scrutiny, he turns and a smile slowly turns his lips up. He stalks toward me, slow and sexy, before cupping my cheeks. “You truly look exquisite.”

He is so close, his breath heats my lips. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I do very much but then you’d wear a garbage bag and it would still have the same effect. I would still want to tear it off you and lay you down.”

His lips touch mine. It is not what I expect. With the intensity in his eyes and the tenseness of his muscles, I expected to be crushed against his body. I wanted it. Instead he sips each corner then peppers his persuasion over my upper lip. The lower edge receives the same treatment. His lips are coaxing, asking and my tongue touch his lower lips in answer. Yes!

We both freeze. Our eyes connect before his hands on my hips haul me close. I gasp. His eyes darken. His cock, full and thick, rests between us and his heads lowers once more. Our tongues knot, only to break free and slide over each other. Time and time again we return to taste each other. Sighs, moans and the wet sound of our carnal enjoyment fill the air. I shift closer to him and feel the erotic slide of my wet pussy lips against each other. His cock jumps against me.

Yuri is the one to break free. I don’t fool myself thinking I have the willpower to. The movement is almost violent and knowing I raise this man to this fevered pitch thrills me. His breath is harsh like mine.

His rests his forehead against mine, briefly closing his eyes. The pools of desire open and with a voice deepened by leashed passion, he says, “Let’s go before I listen to my body and tell that little voice in my head to fuck off.”

I am tempted to throw caution to the wind and pull his lips back to mine. He sees it in my eyes and groans. “Don’t tempt a starving man, Bri. You’re not ready for the things I want to do to you.” His hand slides down my sides and over my ass, bringing me hard against him. “For what I want to do to this body.”

“And when I’m ready?” I ask, the words breaking free on their own accord.

He smiles. “Then nothing will stop me from loving you in every way humanly possible.”

A fresh coat of lip gloss later and my rose safely tucked in a vase, we leave the apartment. I am heading toward where he normally kept his jeep when he stops me. “Your carriage awaits this way.”

We take a few steps in the other direction and I have no idea what I am expecting-a limousine perhaps or some fancy model rental- but I squeal excitedly when I see the old, beat up 1976 Chevrolet Chevette. “Oh. My. God! Is that Meredith?”

“The one and only.”

The first day he pulled up to our old high school with her, it produced a big bang and enough dark smoke to place a bent in the ozone layer but Yuri’s pride in his new vehicle was not ruined by the snide comments thrown his way by some of the students. I rode home in that car that day. Well, not home exactly. Yuri parked a block away and walked me the rest of the way. My mother and father would have had a cow if Yuri’s new wheels showed up in our driveway.

My fingers still touching her adoringly, I glance back at Yuri. His face is the picture of concentrated delight and warm affection but he is not watching the car. They’re on me. Nervously, I look back at the car. “I had no idea you still had her.”

He comes closer and leans against the vehicle. “She was parked out in my dad’s garage. We fixed the engine and the inside but decided to leave the outside as is. She would not be the same without all these little dents.”

I trace an oddly heart-shaped impression on the hood. “No, she would not.”

He leans into the vehicle and soft music fills the air. He grins at me. “The stereo works now.”

Delighted, I laugh when he does a silly little dance and approaches me.

“May I have this dance my lady?” With a twirl of his hand, he bows.

I curtsy. “Why, of course, kind sir.”

He spins me into his arms and I am more giddy from the moment than the movement. His body heat and scent surrounding me, I say, “The ladies don’t stand a chance against you, do they?”

He dips me over his arm and I gasp. “As long as you don’t.”

Looking into his eyes, I don’t think I ever did. Upright, I rest my head on his chest and we sway to the heart pulling lyrics of Chaka Khan. I have no idea how long we stay that way before a sniffle breaks us apart. I look up to see a middle aged couple looking at us. It is our upstairs neighbors, the Michelles. Though they bicker and curse each other left, right and center on a regular basis, they clearly love each other.

The woman, Diana, has tears in her eyes and her hands clutched over her heart. The man has a resigned look on his face.

“Isn’t that cute, Frank?” She hits him on the shoulder. “Why don’t you do anything like that for me?” She shifts her attention back to us and says to me, “He’s a keeper, honey. Don’t let him slip through your fingers.”

With one last glare in her husband’s direction, she walks toward the elevators with a huff. The man follows at a slower pace, a long suffering sigh echoing off the concrete columns. He looks behind him and says, “Thanks a lot, you guys. Dee Dee, don’t be like that.”

He suddenly takes off after his wife. When he reaches her, I can see the tirade she intends to unleash on him but she does not get more than a few words out because her husband’s lips settles over hers and she melts against him almost instantly.

The heat between the two is almost too much to watch but I am unable to tear my gaze away. What’s it like being the recipient of such devotion and love?

I turn to find Yuri watching me instead of the pair. The look in his eyes mystifies me but sends my heart into a gallop. He takes my hand and says, “We have a date to get to.”

Yuri pulls out of the garage minutes later and we proceed to sing horribly off pitch for the twenty minute drive.


He pulls into a diner’s parking lot. The flashing sign says Sillie’s Diner and Pizzeria. Though the place looks packed, the decorations on the glass windows look tacky at best. I laugh. “Pulling out the big guns, I see.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at me. “Only the best for you, babe.”

Shaking my head, I reach for the door but he stops me. “Uh uh. Let me get my macho on and open the door for my lady.”

Unreasonably pleased that he called me his lady, my smile gets bigger. “Oh, chivalrous tonight, huh?”

“Damn straight!”

He does not pull me in the direction of the diner though but towards the sounds of reggeaton music. Soon we are wading through a growing crowd. The music gets louder with every step we take. Persons are dancing to the beat. Some dip and sway like seasoned professionals while others look more like stumbling creatures from a horror movie. I will fall into the latter group if I attempt the sultry moves I’m sure. There are benches and chairs on the grassy area near the street’s sidewalks, all of which look occupied. The smell of yummy food reminds me that I have not eaten since lunch, which was just a sandwich. I was too nervous to eat anything heavier.

An obviously drunk dancer’s flaying arms gets too close and Yuri pulls me against his chest. I savor the warmth and hardness, silently thanking the man. Looking down at me, Yuri asks, “You okay?”

The music is too loud for me to hear the words but I read his lips and nod. Standing on tippy toes, I bring his head down to shout above the music, “What is this place?”

Yuri repeats my action without the tippy toes. “A few weeks ago, a friend of mine opened a food truck here. It’s become so popular that every Friday night the area becomes an unofficial street party.”

The words are not suggestive but I am unable to stop a shiver that works down my spine. He is so close, his breath teasing my skin.

Yuri does not misinterpret the action as an effect of the light breeze and he hugs me tighter, his head lifting. His gaze searches my face with hot eyes and again I am shaken. My nipple press into his chest and I feel him, hard and hot, against my side. For a moment I think he is going to throw me against the nearest hard surface and ravage my lips and all the other willing parts of my body but I am disappointed when he drops a quick kiss on my neck. His breath feels unsteady and the muscles of his back tense under my fingers.

My disappointment dies when his teeth lightly scrape over my skin. His lips quickly close over the area, his tongue licking in a way that has my head angling for more. He trails higher before nipping my earlobe.

“God, everything about you tempts me to lose control. You have no idea how hard it is not to throw you over my shoulder and find the nearest bed.” He sounds tortured.

He does not give me a chance to response because without meeting my gaze, which I’m sure is consenting to his need, he gets us through the crowd. My own need burning between my legs, I try to catch my breath, loving the fact that he did not give up his possessive grip of my shoulders.

In the center of the mass is black food truck, the side painted with a chicken dressed in a ninja suit. In the side window are two persons attending to the long line vying for treats for inside. The woman is tiny compared to the huge man. Yuri throws a wave in that direction and gets a thumbs up and a huge smile from the man before we continue in the direction of the park behind.

I send Yuri a puzzled look as we walk along the darkened path, only the full moon lighting the way. With every step, the sounds of the festivities fade to a dull beat. I almost question Yuri about our destination but decide to enjoy the silence and cool night instead. Resting my head against him, I follow his lead.

We go off the paved path and my heels sink into the grass. Yuri swings me into his arms. The suddenness of the action makes me dizzy. I open my mouth to protest, to tell him he should put me down, that my weight is too much. The weight of his stare stops me.

“You feel great in my arms.” A quick kiss on my lips and he resumes his walk.

A warm glow in my chest, I bury my nose against his neck, close my eyes and savor the feeling.

“We’re here.”

I open my eyes and gasp, absolutely stunned. We are in a clearing with only one tree in the grassy patch. Lights twinkle from the far-reaching branches with circular lanterns hanging in a haphazard manner that make the scene more beautiful. At the base of the trees spine is a large blanket with a picnic basket. Bread and fruits spill over the top. Plates and wine glasses surround the box with two bottles close by next to colorful petals. There are also several huge pillows off to the side. A white net comes down from the tree and encloses the space.

“Yuri, I don’t know what to say. It’s beautiful.”

He places me on my feet, kneeling to remove my shoes. My toes wiggle against the soft blanket as he stands. A delighted laugh escapes me and I twirl in a circle, my dress bellowing around my thighs. I turn back to Yuri and throw my arms around his shoulders, still laughing.

“Oh my god. I’ve never seen anything like this.” My lips are on his before I think and my laughter dies into a sigh. Our lips gently breaking apart, I rest my forehead against his. His hands under my thighs, he lifts me and resumes my twirling when my ankles meet at his back. “This really is wonderful, Yuri. Thank you.”

“I figure you’ve had enough of those fancy dinners. I wanted to give you something different, something Memorable.”

He looks so earnest, so sincere. Touched, I manage a shaky smile and say, “I will certainly never forget tonight. Ever.”

He smiles softly. “I’m glad.”

The wind picks up the smell of whatever’s in the basket. Is that cheesecake I smell? My stomach grumbles and we both laugh, though I’m sure my cheeks are pink.

“Guess I should feed you, huh?”

“If that’s really my favorite chocolate cheesecake I smell, then it’s probably for the best. I don’t want to have to hurt you.”

He throws his head back and laughs. I smile. Our banter is wonderful. Every other date I’ve been on made conscious of what I ate. I’m me tonight and don’t feel one ounce of inadequacy.

I slide down his body until my feet are on the ground once more. The friction is delicious and by the bulge I feel, I know I’m not the only one affect but still we wear silly grins. Now more than ever I’m glad he did not agree to my silly no touching rule. I want free reign over his body tonight.

“I know better than to come between a woman and her chocolate fix.” He helps me sit and reaches for a bottle of wine. The red wine splashes into the glasses and unbridled the image of the red liquid flowing in tributaries over the hard contours of his chest comes to mind. My tongue closely follows as I lap up every drop working towards the hard cock waiting for me.

He hands me a glass and I take a sip as we fit ourselves comfortably against the pillows, facing each other. He piles one plate with beautiful little entrée pieces. He places a one on my tongue and the evening progresses into the best night of my life. The hours are filled with laughter, light subject matter and that ever present underlying arousal. We share comfortable little silences and simply gaze into each other’s eyes. All throughout, he touches me subtly. A finger across the back of my hand. Removing a smudge from the corner of my mouth. Brushing a stray tendril from my face.

We are lying side by side after devouring two slices of cheesecake each, watching the lights above when he asks, “You still want that houseful of kids?”

When I was younger, long before my marriage, my dream was having that chaotic, huge family which would be the direct opposite of my parent’s household. In my fantasy I would have that perfectly imperfect husband and six children, three girls and three boys. I never knew why I chose that number.

It’s some time before I answer. “I kind of gave up on that dream a long time ago.”

He rises onto his elbow, looking down on me while playing with a loose lock of my hair. “Why? You’d be such a great mom.”

Is it cheesy that my heart practically smiles when he says that? “After Karim I did not think I would ever happen. I had no intention of getting married again, far less have kids. I convinced myself it was just a pipe dream anyway.”

He pauses his twirling and meets my gaze. “Still think that?”

I shrug, looking away because in his eyes I see something I am not ready for, something that promises possibilities I thought lost to me just a few days ago. Now I’m not so sure but hope is a fragile thing that refuses to be squashed by the obstacles I am trying to remind myself of.

“Some days,” I answer. “Other days my heart tells my head to fuck off and says I can still have that.”

I look back at him and his slow smile makes the silly organ flutter.

July 2018
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