Read In The Company of My Sistahs Online
Authors: Angie Daniels
In The Company of My Sistahs (9 page)
Kayla sucked her teeth. “Girl, I would love for a man to help me and the girls.”
“Yeah, but at what expense? I feel that I have given up a piece of who I am to be with him. Yeah, maybe I don't have to work but that privilege comes at a cost. John wants a wife to cook his meals, clean his house, and cater to his needs. At one time I was so excited to be able to do those things because I never had the luxury. For years I had been working two jobs and going to school at night to get my degree, then I lose my job, and here comes John offering to marry me so I wouldn't have to worry about health benefits, and rushing to find another dead-end job. He put this fairy-tale life in front of me on a silver platter and I grabbed it. And as soon as the excitement wore off, I've been regretting it ever since.
“You know, my sister told me that I didn't know how to have normalcy in my life. That I live for drama and disruption, and don't you know she had my ass thinking that maybe she was right. Maybe I don't know how to have a real relationship, and because of it I keep trying to make things work between John and I.”
“Does he have any idea?”
I shrugged. “I think he does, but he chooses to ignore it. He loves me so much it's scary. So many times I find myself looking for reasons to end our relationship, searching for an excuse to get out of the marriage, and can't ever seem to find one.”
“Well, you can't blame the man.”
“No, but I truly believe it is unfair for me to continue to stay with him. I refuse to sleep with him but once a week, and even then I feel sick to my stomach.”
“Poor John.”
I swung around on the seat and glared at her. “Poor John? What about me?” I asked with straight attitude. “Every time he touches me I feel like I'm being raped.”
Kayla's eyes were wide. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, it is a terrible feeling. You just don't know what it feels like to have some big fat man on top of you huffing and puffing when you don't want to be touched by him. He spends almost an hour kissing and caressing every part of my body, telling me how much he loves me, and it drives me crazy. Then he makes love to me slowly, trying to savor the moment, and I want to scream. I can't even get on top and control the moment because his thing is too damn short. Doggy style is a big waste of time because he can't seem to do that shit right or maybe it's because his dick is too short to hit my spot. So instead I lie there on my back and fake an orgasm just so he'll come and get the fuck off of me.” I reached for my drink, feeling tears at the back of my throat. “I can't continue like that.”
“Dang, girl. I didn't know it was that bad.” Kayla actually looked like she truly felt sorry for me.
“It's worse. But I also know it is unfair to him. He is a wonderful man and he deserves a chance to be happy with someone else. And I think the best thing I could ever do for him is let him go so that he has a chance to meet someone that's right for him.”
“So what are you going to tell him?”
I shook my head. “I don't know. I can't tell him the truth. I've tried to come up with every possible excuse and still haven't been able to come up with shit.”
“Well, it should be easier since the two of you aren't living together.”
“Yeah, I know. But I just can't see telling him something like that over the phone. He's flying to Missouri in two weeks, so I guess I'll have to tell him then.”
Letting go had always been easy. All I needed was a reason to justify my actions and then I could walk away. That was the case with both my first and second husband. But what I find with John is that it's not going to be that way. Because this time I don't have a legitimate reason, except that he doesn't satisfy me in bed, but I knew that long before I said “I do,” only I chose to ignore it.
I have never met a nicer man. John's kind, considerate. Ever since I told him I was unhappy he has been doing everything in his power to make things better. He doesn't have a clue that nothing is going to make a difference. So far, I haven't had the heart to tell him so.
You're probably thinking, “Renee, that heartless bitch, when does she have feelings for anyone?” Well, believe it or not, I am considerate of other's feelings, especially when they've been nothing but good to me.
I look at John with a stomach as wide as his smile and the gold band shining on his left hand, and I want to cry because I wish I could be everything he wants me to be. And it hurts because I can't. Lord knows I've tried. We've been married for three years and I have been miserable for two. For one year I played the role of Suzy Homemaker, cooking, cleaning, catering to his every sexual need, and even before the twelve months were up I was asking myself what the hell was I doing trying to be someone I was not. However, I continued to try.
Every time he reached under the covers and placed his hand on my knee, I cringed. My entire body would stiffen, and I would hope that by me not responding he would leave it alone, but he never does. The last time we were together was two months ago. As soon as I brought him home from the airport he mentioned he was exhausted, so we moved to the bedroom and I lay across the bed while he took a nap. The kids were still at school so it was a good time for a little rest and relaxation. Just as my eyes began to close, I felt his hand caressing the inside of my thigh. I tried to pretend I was already asleep.
“How about giving your husband a little bit?” he whispered close to my ear.
I didn't respond, hoping he would just leave me the fuck alone, but since he hadn't had any coochie in months I should have known better.
His hand started traveling up my thigh, then, as I held my breath, he reached under my shirt. I wasn't wearing a bra, so he had easy access to my breasts. He took my nipple between his thumb and pointer finger and began to tweak it. Now I have always considered my nipples my weak spot. All it took was tweaking it just so lightly to get me turned on, but with John it became a turn-off.
He shifted on the bed and raised my shirt so that he could feast his eyes on my breasts, then as I laid there the entire time like a board, he moved his hand to my left nipple while he captured the right with his lips. Eventually feelings of arousal sailed through me, and even though I wanted to moan I didn't because with John if you responded his ass would never stop. So I continued to lay there as he suckled and tweaked one nipple and then the other over and over again until I lost the moment and was ready to scream. I held it in because I have told him many times before that my nipples were going to fall the fuck off from him playing with them so damn much. However, talking to him was like talking to a rock. He never remembered and the torture continued until he was done.
He paused long enough to slide my pants and underwear down my hips, then his lips traveled past my belly button to the patch of hair between my legs. I parted my thighs so he could have access and started counting in my head. He found my clit and suckled while his fingers continued to tweak my nipples like they were the knobs to a damn transistor radio. I tried not to think about my poor nipples and concentrated on his tongue. Beneath the hooded skin, he found my spot and suckled but I knew better to respond for long because the more you responded the harder and longer he sucked until he made me so damn mad I had to push his mouth away.
John rolled over to his side of the bed, then took my hand and guided it to his dick, which I wasn't surprised to find was still soft.
“Play with it.”
I cringed inwardly before I allowed my fingers to wrap around the base of his dick and stroke it up and down. The entire time he continued to play with my damn nipples. I lay there, asking myself, “why the hell am I doing this?” I wanted to cry because his eyes were closed and he was smiling and mumbling how much he loved his wife, and all I could think about is how pitiful this mothafucka is.
Finally, when I was seconds away from giving up, his dick got hard. John quickly positioned himself between my legs and tried to find my coochie. It was so dry it took several attempts at pushing before I finally reached over and grabbed the damn K-Y Jelly and lubricated his semihard dick. It took a few minutes of stroking to bring him back to his full erection, then I guided him to my coochie and helped him find my damn hole.
He slid in quickly and lowered his three-hundred-plus body on top of me and began to pump. I rocked my hips slightly and tried to find a rhythm, which we can never find.
Finally, he lifted his weight off of me and I breathed freely until his hands found my nipples again. All I wanted was to get the shit over with. I tightened the walls of my coochie and tried rocking harder because I know moaning and faking an orgasm is the only way he is going to get the fuck off of me.
If only his dick was just a little longer, then maybe he could reach my spot. I've tried putting my legs on his shoulders but all I get is his weight slamming against my body. If he had a dick, he would be something fierce in the bedroom, but that isn't the case so there is no point in wishing.
He lowered his weight over me again and pumped faster and faster while he still had one hand plastered to my left nipple.
“Yes, baby,” I moaned on cue.
“Come with me,” he said.
“Uh-huh,” I whispered.
I rocked my hips harder to meet each of his strokes and when he cried, I cried. When he moaned, I moaned, and when he finally came, I pretended to come with him. Then he rolled over and within seconds he fell asleep while I lay beside him and allowed the tears to fall freely.
“Here come Nadine and Lisa,” Kayla said, breaking into my thoughts.
I slid my glasses on top of my head and grinned. “Check her ass out. Nadine, that suit is cute.” For once she had on something that wasn't country. The one-piece was made for someone with big titties and a short torso. “Lisa, you look good, too.”
“Thanks. Michael bought this for me.” She took a seat at the bottom of my chair.
“Must be nice to have a man to buy you things,” Kayla said with envy.
“Girl, this is a first, because most of the shit he buys me is either too big or something my damn grandma would wear.”
We laughed.
“Shit. John's the same way. That's why I tell his ass to just give me the money instead.”
Nadine noticed the plate beside my chair. “What you got there?”
“Jerk pork. I got it at that little hut over there. Nadine, you should check out the cutie inside.”
“I will. Right now I'm hungry.”
“So am I,” Lisa agreed.
“Let's go eat in the dining room,” Nadine suggested.
“Dressed like that?” Kayla asked.
Lisa chuckled. “Yes, like this. Girl, we can go barefoot. That's why it's right off of the pool.”
We each rose and moved up the path past several vendors and two other huts. One served hamburgers and hot dogs while the other served ice cream. We stepped around a large swimming pool where a recreational director was playing water sports with a dozen or so kids. Coming up the path, three tired-looking workers tried to get our attention. Nadine flipped them off, which sent us all screaming with laughter as we moved toward the patio-style restaurant.
I moved up the wide tiled stairs into an open dining area. No windows. No doors. Just a roof to shield against the frequent rain showers and lots of open space. There were dozens of tables and chairs surrounding a large buffet. Lisa found a table closest to the pool. Directly across from the half wall was the lobby, with a clear view of the registration desk on the other side of the fountain.
I took a seat directly facing the desk. Everton wasn't around but I wanted to see him when he was. “All right, y'all go first. I'll sit here and hold our table.”
“I'll sit here with you,” Kayla offered. Nadine and Lisa went and joined the buffet line.
I glanced around the room. People were laughing and smiling. There were several couples lip-locking and holding hands. To my far right I spotted a group of large brothas stepping into the dining room. “Kayla, look.”
There were five of them: three had women on their arms, two did not. They had to be football players. I heard you would always find them in Jamaica.
“They look like linebackers,” Kayla replied.
“I think they are.”
They were all gorgeous, but money could make the ugliest man handsome. However, I have to admit, in this case several of them were naturally fine.
I sat up straight on the chair and pushed out what little titties I had. As they strolled past us, a guy who was as tall as he was wide winked in our direction. I smiled, showing teeth and tongue. Kayla's grin was just as big. Our smiles weren't missed by a pretty Hispanic woman walking behind him all hugged up with a player who was a little smaller and less bulky. She gave us an I-bet-you-wish-you-were-me look as she swayed her narrow hips to a large round table in the corner.
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