Durell asked me to meet him at his sister’s house because he needed “closure”. I really didn’t want to go because I don’t really care what he needs. Hell, I needed him to be faithful but did I get it? No!  I’m not getting out of my car and I am only giving him ten minutes to get this so called “closure”. We were together two years; he met her, he became confused; I gave him clarity in the form of Teflon to the cranium; he moved in with her. That’s closure! I’m off probation! I paid one-third of his medical bills! I know one thing: I am not getting out of my car and he only has ten minutes.

 Pulling into Lisa’s driveway, a sense of relief covered me because Durell’s black Cadillac Catera was no where to be seen. That meant I had a few more minutes to get my mind right. I didn’t want to come off as another bitter black woman but wrong is wrong and I didn’t have much to say to him.

Tapping on my driver side window, “Hey, girl! What are you doing here? Come on out and give me a hug.” Oh my goodness, that voice belonged to Durell’s Uncle Pimp. I forced myself to find a “happy place” because I don’t want to appear upset. Hugging and laughing with Uncle Pimp reminded me of the good times.

Uncle Pimp had convinced me to go inside when Durell walked up to us.  He and Uncle Pimp carried on for a bit then Uncle Pimp kissed me goodbye.

Durell’s head was bald and shiny and his mustache with goatee appeared to be freshly trimmed. His dark skin appeared to be soft as a rose petal. His 6’4” frame had picked up a few pounds but they looked good on him. He was wearing grey Timberlands, black jeans, grey turtle neck, and a black jacket. He smelled of Polo Double Black. That cologne on this here man was enough to make any woman weak in the knees. But not me, not anymore!

“Durell, you’ve got ten minutes! I have plans tonight.”

“Tangela, it is just 4 o’clock. You have plenty of time to get ready for what ever you have going on tonight. Can we go inside for a few minutes?”

“No! I’m getting back in my car. We can talk in my car.”

Soon after entering my car, Polo Double Black began massaging my inner thighs and whispering into my ears. I could not focus. My heart was racing. My mind was screaming for me to pull up my skirt and ask if he wanted some pussy.  My left hand fiddled with the buttons of my sweater and my right hand was squeezing my right knee as if it were trying to contain a wild beast.

“TANGELA!”

“What? Why are you screaming? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Have you heard anything that I’ve said? I’m talking and you’re playing with your sweater. Hell, it looks like you were in a daydream! So I’m asking you… what the hell is wrong with you?”

“We had a good thing! You turned your back on us! What makes you deserving of…”

Suddenly our tongues were involved in a heated tussle; one of his hands had a grip on the back of my head and his other hand was pulling me over the armrest.  There was heavy breathing, fabric tearing, the sound of something clanking against the passenger window and the horn beeped a couple of times.  His rock hard dick pushed up into me as I bounced up and down straddling Durell. I winced aloud as my head banged into the roof of the car. “Wait, lean down on me. I’m going to turn you over.” He instructed me amid suckling my nipples.  Our weight forced the passenger into full recline as he pulled me underneath him. In a flash he had wrangled his jeans down, if not off, and slide the remaining fabric of my panties off my left foot.  Durell Taj Jenkins lifted my legs upon his shoulders and surged deep within me. Clapping, moaning, groaning, slurping and ahhs filled the heavy air inside of my Lincoln MKS. “Can you turn on the air or open one of the windows?” I managed as he flipped me upwards to taste my nectar. This man seemed to be an octopus mutant. His strokes never slacked up, his lips didn’t leave my clit, his hands were all about me but I swear he turned on the ignition and depressed the passenger rear window. But I could not be concerned with that right then because I wanted him to take it from the back as only he could.

“I want to turn over.”

WTH! I can’t explain how but we were in the back seat and my head was down up against the rear driver side door. Peering out from under my right arm I saw a trail of clothes and a shoe here and there. Sweat from Mr. Jenkins sprang upon my naked back with each powerful hip rotation. “You ready, baby?” He called me ‘baby’ oh shit that was too much I…I…I screamed “YES!” as his body stiffened with the onset of his own climax.

Collapsed in an overworked naked, sweaty heap we realized that we had tossed caution, all sensibility and every bit of self respect into the wind. We were buck naked in broad daylight inside of my car in his sister’s drive way surrounded by various on lookers including his date.