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Thursday, December 23, 2010

Stages: A Handbook on Men and Relationships - Chapter 7

Chapter 7

I picked up Ros from her house, which was off of Euclid. Not the best part of town, but her mother’s home was in a quiet section of Southeast San Diego. I always felt that Flip and I were the only Black men that stayed above Highway Eight, which ran east to west from the beach, to the mountains. A highway that cuts the city in half. It was almost subliminal segregation. The Blacks didn’t seem to want to go above the eight to live, and all the Whites were fleeing from below the eight to stay in “better” areas. Then again it wasn’t subliminal at all, it was kind of the way the city was developed. Cheaper properties established below and more expensive ones set up above. The well off still overseeing the workers, go figure.

Ros walked out of the house looking radiant. Her legs looked strong and full underneath her skirt. She wore a blue silk blouse that buttoned up the front to a place right above where you could see her cleavage. Her breast pushed the shirt out, not quite tight but enough to show the size. I looked her up and down and took her in with all of my senses. Her voice was heavy, in a sexy way. She hugged her little boy at the door and began walking towards the car. I climbed out to open the door for her. I liked the way her make-up made her face look a little darker than she was. Her hair was styled nicely with a layer pulled over the left side of her forehead and eye. She licked her lips before she spoke.

“Thank you. You must be trying to impress me.”

“If I wanted to do that I would’ve brought flowers.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“That’s not my routine. I try not to be like other guys who only give flowers on first dates and special occasions.”

“Is that so,” she said. Her voice was just too sexy. I could imagine what she would sound like in bed, whispering in my ear.

“That is so. I think flowers should be spontaneous,” I said using one of Laney’s words.

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Besides, we’re just two friends going out to dinner right?”

“If you say so, friend.”

I laughed and continued to drive. She picked up my CD case and began sorting through it. “You have odd taste.”

“Why do you say that?”

“The Police Greatest Hits, R. Kelly, Marvin Gaye, The Red Hot Chili Peppers, Brian McKnight, Eric Clapton, The Fugees, do I have to continue?”

“I don’t see anything wrong with that. It’s good to be diverse, don’t you think?”

“I just can’t get into some of these.”

“You can’t or you’ve never tried?”

“I guess I never tried.”

“What else have you not tried in a while?”

“Oh you wanna pick up on the conversation we had last night?”

“Anything wrong with that?”

“Yes, if that’s all that’s on your mind.”

“If I lie and say the thought hasn’t entered my head at all, will you believe me?”

“Don’t be tacky,” she said.

I laughed and exited Rosecrans.

We pulled into the parking lot and found a place near the front of the building. She walked out in front of me as I locked the doors and checked them. I stayed behind her and looked at her work her walk. Her ass was moving like two cherries blowing in the wind on a warm spring day. I wanted to walk up and place my hands on her. She turned to look at me.

“What are you doing?”

“Who me?”

“No, the guy behind you watching my behind.”

I trotted up next to her.

“I wasn’t really watching in a bad way, I was just admiring the way you carry yourself.”

We walked inside and enjoyed our dinner. After we finished we decided that we would share a dessert, a large slice of strawberry cheesecake. She took the first step in my direction of thought. I had been waiting to talk about sex stuff since she walked out the door of her house. When the pie came she took one of the strawberries in her hand and licked the thick red syrup from the tip and bit it. She then offered it to me. I allowed her to place the berry onto my tongue.

“Have you decided what we’re going to do next?” she asked.

“I figured we could take a walk down at Seaport Village. You know walk off some of this food. Then again we can work it off.”

“Don’t be nasty Terrence.” Damn that voice struck a nerve in a good ass way. Terrence, I thought, “That’s right say my damn name.” I giggled at myself.

“I’m not trying to be nasty. I’m just stating a fact.”

“What fact?”

“The fact that I think you’re an overly sensuous sister, with beautiful style.”

“Thank you for the compliment Terrence.” Damn, “Terrence,” I felt that chill again.

“Are you ready to go?” she asked.

“You?”

“Yes, I told my mother that I wouldn’t be back until late, really late.”

“Oh really?”

“Unless, you offend me in some kind of way.”

“I won’t offend you if you don’t want me too.”

“One track mind.”

“Yours?”

“Ours.”

We left the restaurant and went back to my place. Ros was another woman who had been without for a while. I didn’t have to do much at all with Ros either, but she didn’t compare to Laney. There is just something about watching yourself slide in and out of a dark skinned sister. Ros had body though. The only bad thing was that she was too damn loud, entirely too loud. I swear I wanted to take my pillow and put it in her mouth. I think she was just excited cause it had been a while for her. She stayed until early in the morning. I took her back to her house at seven in the morning. I slept for about two hours before I got up to go to church.

I can feel you saying, “Church?” Don’t I have a right to redemption? People shouldn’t be so judgmental. I was raised in the church and I’ll continue to go. You have to realize that I’m not doing anything wrong. I wasn’t doing anything wrong at Stage One and I’m still not doing anything wrong at Stage Two. I hope you are gaining an understanding of what is occurring here. I’m attempting to detail how Stage One was for me. If this handbook is to be truly successful, you may have to endure a few things you don’t want to see or hear. Life is like that. Then again, maybe I’ll give you a straightforward response as to what exactly Stage One is, that is if you haven’t used your context clues to decipher what it is:
Stage One is the time in a man’s life where he doesn’t give a damn who he’s sleeping with, all he wants to do is have sex. It doesn’t matter who it is or what she looks like, although most men won’t admit this. It doesn’t even matter what she does for a living. This stage is strictly about the sex, nothing more, nothing less. Stage One is crude and rather ridiculous, however I ain’t mad that I went through it. I enjoyed the time thoroughly.


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