the ABW ep - a dating PSA

“Good afternoon,” I smiled.

“Hi,” she fired back.

“How are you doing today?”

She sighed, “I’m tired. My feet and my head hurt. Why?”

“Just asking,” I answered. “I hope you feel better.”

“Ummm Hmmm.”

Initially, I thought she wasn’t feeling me—until the mutual friend gave her my number and she called. We talked briefly and it wasn’t a bad conversation at all. Brandy was a 25-year old receptionist/part-time college student/single mother finishing up her degree.

This woman is extremely attractive from head to toe: 5’5”, size 8-10 with caramel skin. Her body is very voluptuous and she has thick, black shoulder-length hair. She got a little “street” in her that came out in her relaxed vernacular; but hey, I could appreciate her keeping it real with me.

That weekend, she came over to my house and we talked until the sun came up. When she left at 6am, she kissed me goodbye. It was one of those soft, innocent kisses indicative of two people who share a budding attraction.

A few days later, I was driving home from out of town. Brandy called me on my cell phone and we chatted away until I reached the city limits. She told me that she was “waiting” for me outside my house and she was excited to see me. I admit, it did wonders for my male ego.

I pulled up to my house and Brandy was leaning against her car in a form-fitting butterscotch blouse and low-riding cream slacks that revealed a hint of a fuschia thong. She looked good. I got out of the car and she immediately greeted me with a kiss on the lips.

“I missed you,” she said.

“It’s good to see you too,” I replied. “C’mon, let’s go in the house. It’s hot out here!”

We walked into the house and I turned on the A/C. She helped bring my bags in before going into my bedroom and sitting on the edge of the bed. I took a quick shower while she watched television. I told her I was sore from working out and she offered to give me a back massage. I laid across the bed and she did her thing- all the while, we’re talking, laughing and joking. After about 15 minutes of massage therapy, we found ourselves making out on my bed.

“I want you,” Brandy whispering within her panting. “I want you, baby.”

It didn’t take long for that butterscotch outfit to hit the floor along with her panties and bra. We took a brief pause for me to locate a condom and put it on. Brandy and I were having mind blowing sex on top of the covers. If I were to take my most vivid fantasy of she and I intertwined in a session, it wouldn’t even come close to reality.

“Baby, I wanna ride,” she said.

“That’s cool,” I whispered. By now, I could feel the sweat running off the sides of my back.

Brandy gets on top and starts riding me like she was qualifying at the national rodeo. Her breasts were swinging against my face and the room was saturated with screams and moans. That’s when it happened.

“Oh shit!” she yelled before going into a panting, pouty voice. “Baby, please take the condom off, I wanna feel you…please just take it off so I can feel just you!”

My brain, my dick, my entire body went…”HUNH?” We were going at it a mile a minute and, in the heat of passion, you request that I remove the only thing that stood between me and child support court/visitation rights hearings? It all made sense though: good guy + good job = steady check; Brandy must have thought I came from the Booboodafool tribe. The loving was off the chain, but we’re talking about my life! Most guys would have slid off the rubber in midstroke, but what happened next was a thing of beauty.

“Listen,” I said in between rhythms. “I really like you…I mean, I’m really digging you and everything. But I’m not ready to have any more kids. You feelin’ me?”

This was my intuitive reaction and it impressed the hell out of me. It wasn’t so much that I had said it, but the fact that it was my FIRST thought/reaction.

Brandy kept on riding me and, a few moments later, she responded, “Okay…I feel you.” This is where she started bucking and gripping until she came all over me. Suddenly, as if she had just come out of a hypnotic trance, she looked down at me. Sweat was dripping from her big breasts onto my stomach. You could see the feeling of shame and embarrassment cover her face like an emotional veil.

“I can’t believe what I said to you,” she covered her mouth. “Oh my God. I am such a ho! I can’t believe I said that!”

“It’s cool, Brandy. I mean, I’m not judging you.” I assured her.

“But I can’t believe I said that! I’m disgusted with myself.” Brandy slid herself off of me and took a deep breath. “I gotta go home.”

Now, why is it AFTER she has an orgasm- she has this revelation and is ready to bounce? I kind of had to respect her gangsta in the situation…but not before she respected mine. I asked her to lay back down on the bed and pause for a minute. She obliged.

“Look, Brandy. Sometimes we say crazy shit in the heat of the moment. I can’t fault you for that.”

“But I don’t even know you to be going there!” she blurted.

“Which is why I said what I said,” I replied. “Now you know, any other brother would’ve taken that condom off with the quickness…or at least thought about it.”

“You’re right.”

“So that should at least let you know that I give a damn about you and me.” I concluded.

“But what does that say about me?” she asked.

“It says that I put it on yo’ ass!” I laughed. “And I’m not done.”

“Oh, you’re not?” she smirked.

“Hell nawl…”