Aye1991's Blog

I raise my chin, and when I see the sincere look of hurt on her face, it doesn’t take me too long to realize I’m acting like a damn fool. I tell her, “You know what, that’s my fault, I won’t ignore you. What’s up?”

“I been tryna tell you I’m sorry,” she says, hesitating, then trying to look me directly in the eyes, “I’m sorry for not being totally honest with you…”

“I been tryna tell you I’m sorry,” she says, hesitating, then trying to look me directly in the eyes, “I’m sorry for not being totally honest with you…”

I realize my cutting her off the way I did hurt her as much if not more than I was. So I tell her I’m fine and not to worry about it, but she quickly responds, telling me that it obviously wasn’t cool, since I haven’t said a word to her since.

I take a breath then when trying to explain myself, stumbling over my words. She looks at me with a bit of surprise, her expression subtly changing and exhibiting the tiniest of smiles. She’s feeling flattered. She asks me, “So… this wasn’t about you thinkin’ I was playin’ you?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

Sitting forward in her seat, “No— Tell me.”

I look at her and simply say, “Nah, I’m good, I mean, I ain’t got no right to be jealous or anything.”

She sits back in her seat with a smile on her face, “Jealous?”

Shit.

Her head tilts to the side ever so slightly when she asks, “You,” she hesitates, “Andre, you wanted a relationship with me?”

I talk too damn much! 

“Nahhh, I’m good.”

Iunno what’s wrong with me when a beautiful-ass chick wants my dick an’ I gotta be on some heartfelt, feelin’ ass bullshit. I shake my head and smirk, thinking to myself, “oh well, this was something to remember.” Luckily, the train arrives at my stop and Keisha looks at me with raised eyebrows as I stand up, waiting for me to answer her question… 

NOT!

I tell her, “Have a good evening, Keisha,” with a smirk on my face. She shakes her head and smiles back then says softly, “See ya tomorrow, Andre.”

Before I step off the platform and make it into the terminal, I feel a text message coming in and reach into my pocket as I stop walking. I look at my phone and I see where she tells me…

<I didn’t realize you wanted more than something casual. I’m sorry about that. Since I don’t want to hurt anybody, maybe we should just cool it. IDK?>

So I replied…

<We’ll talk>

I can’t help but look at the train as it pulls away and see her big, beautiful head of hair as she looks down… no doubt at her phone as she reads my message. I stand motionless on the platform and watch the train as it fades off into the distance. I turn and walk toward the parking lot and try to understand why I’m feeling the way I do. 

And I just can’t do it.

Tomorrow comes too soon as I try to put Keisha out of my mind. The weather takes a change as fall starts to set in with cooler temps and the leaves beginning to change. As I board the train, I notice that, unlike every other day for the past few months, Keisha isn’t sitting in our usual spot. I turn to sit down and see her sitting amid three men— money managers that always sit near the front of the car— I guess I made her feel awkward after all. 

I see them staring at her whenever she looks down at her phone or out the window, but always looking away whenever she raises her head to look around— I shake my head and mutter to myself, “what the hell.” She looks good too, with her hair reaching up to the sky and wearing an African-inspired print dress along with some hoop earrings and I think to myself, “Yeah I see ya, baby girl.” 

From time to time, I see her looking my way and making eye contact with me… and holding the stare as they try and talk to her. Each stare couldn’t be more than a second or two, but it was there.  After about a half hour, she gets up and walks down the aisle toward me. I look past her and see all three blonde men staring at her ass as she walks away from them and toward me. She puts her hands on the seatbacks as she walks, steadying herself with every step she takes. When she gets to me, she puts her hand on my shoulder instead of the seat as I hear her soft voice when she says my name, “Hi, Andre,” as she passes me on her way to the restroom. Meanwhile, the three men up front whisper amongst themselves like some fuckin’ teenagers. A few minutes later, Keisha exits the restroom and passes by me again and I have a chance to see what they were looking at…

Her full, round ass jiggling ever so slightly beneath the form-fitting dress with every step she takes— Yeah, she looks good.

I spend the rest of the day trying not to pay attention to her being stared at like she’s to be consumed and thrown away by some frat boys tryna experiment… I feel like beatin’ somebody’s ass but then I realize… if she didn’t want the attention, she wouldn’t be sitting there.

Over the last few months as we rode together, the ninety-minute rides seemed too short. But now, as a second day passes, the rides have been excruciatingly long as I see her sitting at the front of the cabin again, surrounded by those three men that obviously just wanna fuck that beautiful round ‘ebony’ ass. 

They’re emboldened now. 

The sights and sounds are unmistakable… the loud laughing, the stolen glances— the straight up flirting!  Whispers in her ear while hands reach in and touch the thigh and I think to myself, “Is that what you really want, Boo?”

What the fuck?

If I have to spend one more day watching this shit I’m gon’ throw up

Another day passes and she’s wearing a conservative white blouse today, opened to the third button and showing some cleavage. Her hair, flat-ironed and reaching down to her shoulders while she wears a short skirt and crosses her legs back and forth, and then I realize… I’ve seen this all before! 

Her motions are deliberate, almost exaggerated if not theatrical. I spend the whole day watching her and she knows

   *          *          *          *          *          *          *

Three days have passed now and I see the men hanging around like pack animals, thirsty muhfuckas waiting to see which one she picks. Then I notice, Keisha is looking right at me again, this time, with her long, natural hair pulled back into an afro puff and smiling slyly while they flirt with her! She showin’ off now— I can’t take watching this shit anymore!

Just as I start to get up and walk over to them, I see Keisha stand and walk my way, putting an abrupt halt to the party. I try not to stare, but she looks damn good walking up that aisle toward me! She smiles and says to me in her soft, smooth voice, “Hi, Andre… how are you,” as she trails a finger along my arm. 

But she doesn’t wait for a response, she just keeps on walking by. I casually turn and see she doesn’t even look back before entering the washroom and closing the door behind her. I turn back around and see the three guys up front smiling and laughing… and high-fiving!

FUCK THIS! 

I stand up and casually walk to the restroom door that Keisha just entered, but there’s nothing casual about what I’m thinking.  I don’t pretend to knock, instead, I try the handle to find the door ajar and falling open with just a simple push. Inside, I see Keisha leaning forward against the sink with a hand on it, supporting herself while sliding the lipstick over her full lips. She turns as I close the door behind me, looking at me with those big, dark brown eyes while those full, pretty burgundy-colored lips drawing my attention as the scent of her perfume pulls me to her…

“What are you doing in here, Dre?”

Leaning back against the door, I ask her, “Why you fuck’n wit me?”

She stares at me, with a bewildered look on her face, “Whatchu mean?”

Then, as I look in her eyes, I see them darting side to side ever so slightly, like she’s trying to scan my face, looking for a reaction! 

“I mean, what was up with all that shit back there— Wit those white dudes?”

“Are you being racist, Andre?”

“Fuck that you know what I’m talking about.”

I get close to her as she turns to face me, putting her thick behind against the sink and leaning back as I place a hand on either side of her and lean in…

She looks down at my hands then back up into my eyes, and tells me, “You’re standing kinda close…”

“If you want me to back up, tell me to back up.”

“Back up.”

I lift my hands away from the sink in an abrupt, deliberate motion and see her flash a satisfied smile as she asks me, “So what’s it to you if I talk to some white guys, Dre?”

I respond matter-of-factly, “I saw you staring at me.”

“I’m just looking around the car,” she says with a smile on her face, “You in your feelings again?”

“My feelings?” I honestly think about that shit for a second as I see her smiling at me, with those damn light brown eyes, those pretty lips, and her perfectly wild hair, then I shake my head, “Nah, my feelings are straight.”

“So why you in here, Dre?”

I look in her eyes and step to her slowly this time, asking, “May I.” 

She responds with an exaggerated eye roll before saying, “Uh uh, playa, I don’t want to be responsible for no hurt feelings…”

“Oh,” I shake my head, “This ain’t about my feelings today. Now… may… I?”

She nods, “A’ight, whatchu gon’ do ‘Dre?”

I lean in and stop just short of touching her. Our lips are so close we feel the other’s breath. I can smell the fresh lipstick applied to her as she looks down, … a couple times then looks back up into my eyes as her lips part. I feel her breath on me when she says, “Oh, so you wasn’t jealous, Andre?”

I answer, acting like seeing her surrounded by the frat boys wasn’t getting to me, telling her, “Jealous— about what?”

And then she smiles before I reach up and lift her chin, then, when sliding my finger along her cheek, she reacts, closing her eyes and leaning her head to that side and rubbing her cheek against my finger. I move her chin where I need it, lean in and touch my lips to hers. She tries to kiss me back but I suck on her fat bottom lip.

“Mmmmmm,” she moans, then gently pulls away…

“So, if you wasn’t jealous, then… what’s all this now? If you don’t want me.”

I reach down along her thigh and lift her skirt, feeling between her legs before she grabs my wrist and stops me…

“I asked you a question, ‘Do you want me?”

I lean in to kiss her again and feel her respond to me as my hand finds the soft, silky panties beneath her skirt and pull them to the side, exposing that even softer, fat, freshly-shaved pussy. I put my hand on her, feeling the flesh against the palm of my hand but she grabs my wrist, stopping me again, then looking me in the eyes again and saying, “STOP! I want you to tell me… now.”

“I want you,” I whisper with my lips touching hers, “Is that whatchu want? Or you really need me to show you?”

She whispers, “Show me… slowly.”