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He finishes his shower way before I finish soaking. Finally, I rise out of the tub and dry off. The water drains and Bishop returns to the bathroom right at the moment I’m about to put on my thong and bra.
“I don’t think you want to put those back on, do you? I bought you these.” He hands me a pretty, silk, indigo panty-and-bra set.
“Thanks. How thoughtful of you.”
“All day I thought about you not being able to freshen up the way you like. We both could’ve used a shower this morning.”
We laugh and the moment is lighthearted. I’m so glad to have fresh undergarments.
“Just put on the bra and panties and come join me to relax a while.”
“Okay.”
I feel my heart racing. I know where this can lead and I really don’t want it to. He’s seducing me and I can’t fall for it. But how do I show my appreciation? What he’s done is really nice. I pace the bathroom floor trying to figure this out. Hell, screw it, I didn’t tell him to get this room. I wrap my dress around my body and slide on my high-heel sandals. Damn it, I’m in control and my ass is leaving. I open the bathroom door but don’t see him.
“Bishop?” I call out, peering around the corner.
“Yeah baby, I’m in here.” His acknowledgement comes from the kitchenette. He turns the corner and walks toward me with his dick swinging in the wind the way I like to watch it. Be strong, Connie, I tell myself.
“Why are you dressed? I thought we’d hang out here for a while.”
Be strong, Connie. Don’t look down at his penis. If you do, you’re gonna want it.
“I, uh, I, um, I really need to go.”
“You’re joking, right?” He intentionally steps toward me with his dick an inch away from my pelvis. He leans in for a kiss but I turn my head.
“No. I’m not joking. I have to go.”
He wraps his arms around my waist and I feel weak in the knees.
“What are you going home to that’s better than what you have right here, Connie?”
He kisses the side of my neck and I feel his loaded gun against my dress. I raise my arms not sure whether to embrace him or push him away. He kisses me harder and I begin to kiss him back. His dick grows longer and wider. I feel my hot zone throbbing, yearning for his long dong. I’m saturating my new indigo panties and my breasts are standing at attention. I tell myself, I have to gain control. I can’t do this anymore. Keith is my man even if he doesn’t have a huge penis. If he ever finds out about this, my ass is as good as gone.
“Bishop, I’m sorry, but I gotta go. I can’t do this anymore.” I try to push him away but he holds me tightly. I like the way he’s fighting to keep me.
“Look me in my eyes and tell me that you don’t want what we have together. Look at me, damn it!”
I slowly affix my distant stare upon his hazel eyes and for the first time, I feel something in me flutter. It’s not supposed to, but it does.
“Bishop, look, this has been a wonderful week and I’ve had a lot of fun. But I can’t see you anymore.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Don’t try to twist my words. I don’t want to continue to see you anymore. Is that clear enough?” I lie. Shit, this is hard.
“Why, because of that unsatisfying thug you have? Connie, I can give you everything he can and more, if you let me. I know that I satisfy you sexually. Please, let’s work this out.”
He’s begging and ironically, his pleading is touching places in me that should not be tapped. I say nothing and let him continue to spill his guts.
“Connie, if you can honestly tell me that you don’t want me, I’ll leave you alone and never look back.”
Damn, I don’t want it to be like that. I think about Keith and ending this affair with Bishop, right here, right now. I have Bishop where I want him. I can kiss his ass good-bye, walk out this door, and forget this ever happened. Hmmm. What shall I do? Sorry, Keith, but a girl’s gotta have what a girl needs.
I interrupt Bishop and tongue him passionately. He lifts me and lays me gently onto the rose petals that adorn the California Kingsized bed. Our encounter is different this time, slow and meaningful, drifting into a place I know it shouldn’t be, a place of intimacy. I watch Bishop peel my clothes tenderly. I follow suit and enjoy this moment of truth. Could it be that we’ve revealed another layer of desire for each other, another need? No words are spoken; they would only get in the way. Our bodies entwine into several positions. Kama Sutra has nothing on us. For some strange reason, screaming, “Fuck me, Bishop,” would be out of place in this setting.
For forty-five minutes, we’re suspended in a matrix of romance, and oddly, I enjoy the transition. My sensual movements and direct eye contact speak every word I dare not say. The caressing grip of Bishop’s masculine hands and soft kisses of his LL Cool J lips express a tenderness from far within. The wave of his body with mine, a slow, repeated, penetrating motion takes us to a heightened orgasm we experience simultaneously. Our bodies quake and we hold each other tight. Afterward, I rest my head upon his chest. The room is filled with the muted sound of Will Downing. I say nothing but lie thinking, this moment can’t be revisited or I’m going to be in a bigger dilemma. Bishop interrupts my thoughts.
