Cougars (5 page)

“Okay, no need to get your underwear in a bunch. But look, there is a good chance that I'll be bringing a girl in here tonight, so when I do you're going to need to step out while I do my thing.”

“I am not getting out of my bed in the middle of the night so you can bang some chickenhead.”

“Suit yourself, Travis, because I'm going to do her whether you're in the room or not. I'm just trying to save you the aggravation of feeling left out.”

“Don't do me any favors,” Travis had remarked with a nasty attitude.

“What's the problem, dude? You're a nice-looking brother. A little nerdy, but it's not like you've got bad skin or poor hygiene. Girls will fall all over you, if you'd just open your mouth and speak.”

“I'm not like that. My parents told me that I had to come here and get an education, not party. They expect me to be at the top of my class and that takes dedication, determination, and sacrifice.” Travis had stood his ground.

“Getting to know women and fucking are also a part of being educated,” Alex had countered.

“Whatever, Alex. Just go and have a good time.” Travis hadn't felt like speaking to him anymore.

“Okay, Steve Urkel. Have fun playing with yourself,” Alex had said before grabbing his leather bomber jacket and heading out.

Over the course of his junior year, Travis had inadvertently walked in on Alex having sex on a number of occasions—once during a threesome and another time when he was banging the professor of his Asian-American studies class.

One afternoon, when there was nothing particularly interesting
going on around campus, Alex had offered to take Travis for a bite to eat at a nearby fast-food restaurant.

“Come on, Einstein.” He had collapsed the screen on Travis' laptop. “Even you have to take a break to eat.”

“Alex, I've got a lot of work to do, man. I don't have time to eat.” Travis had opened up his laptop once again. Alex had tried to close it but Travis had swatted his hand away. He was irritated by the interruption.

“I'm treating, okay. I have money and plenty of it,” Alex had offered. Travis had paused for a second and then changed his mind.

“Well, if you're treating, I'm eating.” Travis finally had agreed to take a break.

“Come on, let's get out of here. Open up that window first. It smells a little funky in here.”

“Dude, the funk is from your smelly-ass football shoes. You need to donate those son-a-bitches to science because there has to be a new type of fungus growing in them.”

“Well, guess what, genius. If you figure it out and create a cure, you'd probably make millions of dollars. And when you do, I most certainly want my share of the profits.” Alex had laughed as he had walked out of the room.

When they had arrived at their destination, they were seated in a booth seat near a window. They had looked over the menu, made their selections and informed the waiter.

“So I'm curious,” Travis had asked.

“About what?” Alex had removed his straw from its paper wrapping and had stuck it into his glass of water.

“How does a guy who's as young as you get so many girls and not have any drama?”

“Because I'm a pimp.” Alex had laughed at his own comment.

“You are not a pimp. I'm serious. I mean, you've got girls coming and going and I just don't get it.”

“You're envious, right?” A sly grin had spread across Alex's lips. Travis had leaned back in his seat and had given him a condescending glance.

“I may be a little green about it,” Travis had admitted. “So what's your secret?”

“There is none and trust me, I do have drama. I just know how to manage my women.”

“Manage your women. You make it sound as if you're herding cattle.” Travis had fiddled with his silverware.

“Call it what you want, but for as long as I can remember, girls have always been drawn to me.”

“My, aren't we conceited?” Alex and his ego at times had gotten on Travis' nerves.

“Hey, I'm being honest with you. The men in my family have always been able to pull women. That's just the way it is. Ever since I was little boy in kindergarten I had girls bringing me extra food. Hell, if I pouted a certain way, I could even get what I wanted out of my teacher. By the time I was in junior high school, I had girls fighting over me. Shit, when I was a freshman in high school, I'd gotten between more legs than a lot of the senior guys.”

“How do you know what to say? Or better yet, who taught you what to say?” Travis had asked.

“Now that's a very interesting question. I'd say my biggest influence came from my uncle, King Solomon.”

“King Solomon?” Travis had laughed at the name. “What kind of name is that?”

“His real name was Sal, but everyone called him King Solomon because he had a harem of women and his pockets were always filled with money from his gambling winnings. He was as brawny
as Luther Vandross and was fond of dressing sharply. I was spending time with him the summer before I entered high school. It was during those weeks with him that I learned a lot about life, gambling and women. He asked me if I'd been with a girl yet and I said no.

“He asked me how far I'd gotten with a girl and I said third base, but it was more like second base. He asked me what happened and I told him that the girl kept fighting me off when I tried to pull off her panties. Then he said, ‘You have to find one who is ripe. The quiet girls will give it up quicker,' he said. And I was like, ‘for real?' Uncle Solomon gave me a bunch of tips on what to say, and how to play the game. Hell, I just listened and took notes and if I ran into a snag, I called him up.”

“So when did you lose your virginity?” Travis had asked just as their food had arrived. They'd both ordered the special—a triple cheeseburger loaded with three types of cheeses, mushrooms along with French fries and coleslaw.

“I lost it when I was fifteen,” Alex had said as he bit into his burger.

“Fifteen, come on, you're shitting me, right?” Travis had asked.

“No.”

“Damn.” Travis couldn't imagine having sex at that age.

“And get this, the woman who cracked my first nut was much older than me.”

“How much older?”

“She was a grown-ass woman.” Alex had paused. “You remember that movie that came out a while ago called
The Inkwell
starring Larenz Tate?”

“Yeah, I remember it. It's the one where the married woman has sex with—wait a minute… You lost your virginity to an older, married woman?” Travis had asked, finally making the connection.

“Damn right, I did,” Alex had said, “and that shit was the fucking bomb!”

“Can't she go to jail for that?” Travis had scratched his head.

“Who was going to fucking tell? I damn sure wasn't and I knew for a fact she wasn't. Hell, her husband was never around; he was always traveling on some business trip. I was walking home from football practice one day and she asked if I could help carry some storage boxes from the house to the garage. I said sure. Once that was done, I was all sweaty, so she asked if I wanted to come in for a cold drink. I didn't think anything of it and followed her back inside the house. She had on some tight shorts and when she bent over to get my drink from the refrigerator, her chocolate ass cheeks bubbled out. At that moment, everything King Solomon told me came into play. I knew she was teasing me to see how I'd react.

“I started telling her how good she looked and if I was her man, she'd never be lonely. She laughed because she thought I was too young to know anything about having a woman. I told her that I knew enough about women to understand that they need their man to pay more attention to them. She then decided to make herself a cocktail and after a few drinks, my fingers were exploring her juicy pussy. She cracked my nuts and my entire world changed.”

“How?” Travis had placed his elbows on the table and had leaned forward.

“Well, for starters, my confidence level in everything skyrocketed. She showed me everything: where a clit was, how to eat her pussy, suck on her breasts and even taught me the rhythm of the stroke. I'll tell you, Travis, there is no melody sweeter than the sound a woman makes when your dick is inside of her.”

“What does it sound like?” Travis had asked curiously.

“It depends on the woman. Some shout and others cry or whimper.
They make all kinds of sounds that you won't hear unless you're deep inside stroking the walls of her pussy with your dick.”

“So what happened to her?” Travis had continued to probe.

“She moved. Her husband got a job in another state. She told me to go blow some young girl's mind with what she'd taught me.”

“Did you keep up with her? Did she give you her phone number or anything?”

“No. I wasn't in love with her, Travis. I understood the nature of our relationship. I wasn't trying to marry her. I wanted to have sex and the trade-off for her centered around the feeling of being desired—an element that had gotten lost in her marriage.”

“So is that how you get the women? You make them feel truly desired?”

“It depends on the woman. Some women already know they're hot while others have reservations about their own beauty. Some women just want to fuck while others are looking for you to put a ring on their finger. Those are the ones I run away from.”

“So what type of woman do you like better, older or younger?”

“It's funny you should bring that up.” Alex had repositioned himself in his seat. “Because something weird happened recently that I want to talk to you about.”

“How weird?”

“Well, how can I put this…” Alex had leaned closer to Travis and had begun to whisper. “You know that I nailed one of my professors, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, she introduced me to this secret society.”

“What kind of society?” Travis had asked.

“A secret one; I just told you that,” Alex had whispered.

“What in the hell…you're not making any sense.” Travis had looked at Alex perplexed as he'd scratched the stubble on his chin.

“It sounds pretty straightforward, don't you think?”

“Okay.” Travis had paused in thought for a moment. “So she put your information on this list, or profile or whatever; what does that mean?”

“Here is how it works. There are career women out there who don't have time for a family or a relationship, but enjoy having uncommitted sex, especially with young men. If they initiate contact with you, they'll send you a text message with the name of a hotel and a time to be there. You go to the hotel and wait in the bar area alone. The initiator will find you by looking for a handkerchief that you're supposed to place on your leg. If the initiator likes what she sees, she'll make contact. If not, she'll send you a text message saying
no thanks
.

“That sounds insane!” Travis had gazed at Alex as if he'd lost his mind, but another part of him was very intrigued.

Alex had grinned. “I know, but it's so much fun. You don't have to worry about calling her up the next day, or sending her flowers, or even remembering her birthday. It's an arrangement to fuck off some frustrations and that's it.”

“Have you done this already?” Travis had asked.

“Damn right I have and I love it.”

Travis had finished his food and thought about what Alex had just told him. He wanted to tell him how bizarre this society was, but he couldn't. Hanging around Alex allowed an untamed part of him to come alive. He surreptitiously wished he were as experienced as Alex. He'd grown a little weary of being a virgin as well as focusing only on his studies.

“Why do you have that odd look on your face, Travis? What are you thinking about?”

“I don't know. I mean… Do you think you could get me on the list?” Alex had laughed out loud.

“I don't think you'd be able to handle it,” Alex had said earnestly as he slowly shook his head.

“I can handle myself. I've done some things in the past.”

“Like what? Looked at a porn site?” Alex had continued to mock him, which only aggravated and made Travis more determined to prove himself.

“I want to get on the list, Alex. I'm not playing.”

“You're serious, aren't you?” Alex had stopped laughing.

“Hell yes. I want to do it.”

“I don't know, Travis. I haven't really been doing this that long and I'm not sure I can get you in.”

“Don't bullshit me, Alex.” Travis wasn't going to allow Alex to disregard his request.

“Okay, man. Have it your way. I'll see what I can do.”

A FEW DAYS LATER, Alex had informed Travis that he was able to get him on the list. Wanting to look more mature than his years, Travis had used an emergency credit card with an eight-thousand-dollar limit that his parents had given him. He had purchased several expensive suits and shoes. Within a month, he had received a text message asking if he was available for a rendezvous at the Doubletree Hotel in Berkeley. Nervous, but determined to step outside of his comfort zone and into a double life, Travis had agreed to the meeting.

When he had arrived, he had taken a seat on a brown leather sofa in the waiting area and had picked up a copy of a daily newspaper nearby. He had placed a red handkerchief on his left leg so the person would be able to spot him. A short time later, a stunningly beautiful, middle-aged woman of mixed heritage with a fit body stood before him and had asked, “Did you receive a text message earlier today?” Her British accent was steady, calm, and direct.
Travis, on the other hand, was extremely anxious. It had taken him a moment to find his voice.

“Yes. I did get your message.” He nervously had folded up his newspaper.

“Then let's go. Follow me,” she had said. They had walked over to the elevators and had stepped inside. She had pressed the tenth-floor button and had stood behind him.