Fly on the Wall (14 page)

She blushed. “Oh, stop it.” She was still wearing her black bikini top. A long, black-and-yellow wrapped skirt, tied around her waist, covered the bottom.

“I should've shown up two hours ago when that skirt was still poolside.” He thought he was whispering. “I would've loved to have seen that.”

“Well,” Paige looked uncomfortable, “I gave Angela a plate of food for you. Do you eat pork?”

He laughed and stared intently at her heaving breasts. “There's not much that I won't eat.” His eyes roamed further south on her body. “Come closer and I'll bite you.”

“I put some ribs on the plate.” She tried to ignore his comments. “The sauce is homemade.”

“So is mine.” Dude wasn't ugly, but his game was nasty and tasteless. He was too old to still be charging women with such disrespect. “If you want to taste it, I can I come back in about an hour.” He moved closer to her. “You know, when everybody is gone.”

“I'm exhausted, Ian.” She tried to be nice. “I'm going straight to bed.”

Mr. Porter smiled. “That's where I want you.”

Angie was talking to me, but her dad was in violation of all of my codes. I didn't ask her to hold a minute, excuse me, or anything. I just left her and moseyed on over to her father.

“Excuse me.” I stared at him, took a deep breath, and made a decision not to say what I was about to say. Instead, I turned to Paige. “Did you still want me to change those spark plugs for you?”

“Um.” At first she looked confused, but she quickly caught on. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. Thank you for reminding me. I had totally forgotten.”

“Not a problem.” I looked back at Mr. Ian “Ain't Gettin' None” Porter and pointed to his daughter. “I think Angie's ready.”

“Oh, is she?” He smiled. “Well, Ms. Patrick, give me a call if you change your mind.”

“I think I'm all set in that department, but thanks for your concern.” She extended her hand to him. “Have a good night and enjoy the food.”

“I will. Thank you once again.” He grabbed my hand. I didn't pull back, but offered him no expression, no smile, and no words. “And you, Theo, stop by the house whenever you want. You're a cool guy, and Angie seems to like you.”

“Theo, are you busy the rest of the night?” Angie chimed in.

The three of them looked at me for an answer. “Yeah, I have some stuff to do.”

She wasn't giving up. “Well, give me a call tomorrow. Let's hook up.”

“Okay,” I agreed just to get her and her pops to keep moving. “Y'all drive safely.”

Mr. Porter put his hand on his daughter's shoulder, and it was a pleasure to watch them walk away.

“Like father like daughter, I see,” Paige whispered.

“For a second I thought you were going to take him up on his special sauce.”

“Well, I have nothing much to do tonight,” she joked, but I didn't find the statement humorous in the least.

“How about I find something to keep you busy?” I asked, but then Toni walked into the living room with Devin and Kevin in tow. Those boys had energy like they were overdosing on Prozac and Viagra.

“Everything is just about clean back there. Just pick up the few cans that I didn't get.” She smiled. “It's late. The boys and I need to get going.”

“Aw, so soon?” Paige reached down and rubbed the two boys' heads. “Did you guys have fun?”

“Yeah,” Devin said, then Kevin finished. “We don't wanna go home.” Then they asked in unison, “Can we stay?”

“Maybe next weekend,” Toni said. “You two have to go to church with Grandma in the morning.”

“Ugh.” Kevin started pouting. “I don't wanna go to church.”

“Me either. They talk too much,” Devin added.

“Don't even start.” Toni grabbed them by the hands. “Let me get out of here. They're going to church. Both of 'em need Jesus.” She laughed and kissed Paige on the cheek. “Nice meeting you, Theo.”

“Nice meeting you, too, Ms. Toni.”

“Child, please, call me Toni. I'm already trippin' about getting old. Don't make it worse.”

“All right, it was nice meeting you, Toni,” I said. “Bye, Dev and Kev.”

“Bye, Theo,” they said.

“Theo, I'm going to walk Toni out,” Paige said. “Before you go, please make sure that everyone who is still on the patio knows that the party is over and they should be calling their parents.”

“Okay.” I agreed to do the dirty work.

“I need my house back,” she whispered to Toni as they started to walk away. “Shit, I'm ready to have a drink.”

 

 

There were six people still on the patio, all gathering their belongings. Four rode there together, and the other two had just determined that they lived two blocks apart and could carpool, so I didn't have to say a word. While they talked about the girls in our class who should've never owned two-piece swimsuits, I just grabbed a garbage bag and picked up the soda cans that the wind was rustling around.

“T., you want us to wait on you?” Richard asked.

“Naw, y'all go ahead. I'm just trying to get all of this garbage together.”

“You need help?”

“I got it.”

“All right.” Richard and the others exited the patio and walked into the house. “See you on Monday.”

“All right, man.”

There wasn't much trash lying around, the grill was already clean, and there was nothing weird floating in the pool, so I grabbed a broom and started sweeping. I moved in slow motion so that anyone still watching wouldn't suspect that I was just wasting time.

“All right, Mr. Clean, you can come in,” Paige said as she opened the glass door. “Everyone is gone.”

I had been sweeping for less than five minutes. “You sure?”

“Yes.” She smiled and sipped from the glass in her hand.

“What are you drinking?” I leaned the broom against the fence and approached her.

“Henessey and Hypnotiq.”

“H-Squared?” I expected her to be drinking wine or something a little more teacher-like. She could get down with the get down.

“Is that what they call it?” She pulled the curtains closed.

“That's what I call it.” I was nervous about being alone with her.

She asked, “Have you had it before?”

“No, let me taste it.” It was “need be” time. I stepped toward her, took the glass from her hand, and rested it on the table. I bent down to meet her and licked the moist residue from her supple lips.

“Tastes good,” I whispered, then I gently drew her lips into me in search of more sweetness. I parted her oral gates with my tongue and surprisingly, it was welcomed by a tender yet aggressive suction. She pulled me in, and like she was awaiting ransom money, she held my tongue hostage, applying an even more seductive taunting, sliding her lips back and forth on my tongue. I flicked my tongue wildly, fighting with hers until she surrendered it to me. Then I proceeded to suck her nectar. My hands traveled down the back of her body like a train on a track, and I squeezed her firm ass.

“Whoa.” She stopped.

Damn, I messed up. “Sorry.”

“It's all right.” She smiled. “I thought you wanted to taste my drink.”

“I did.” Boy, I did.

“How was it?”

I was almost out of breath. “I've never had anything like that before.”

“I would offer you a glass, but then I'd be contributing to the alcohol consumption of a minor.”

If ever there were a time for me to man up, it would be now. “All right, Ms. English teacher, do you know the definition of the word
minor
?” I asked.

“Of course,” she answered. “Anyone under the age of twenty-one.”

“Wrong.” I sat down in a chair at the dining room table. “My dictionary says lesser or smaller in amount, extent, or size.” With a grin on my face, I grabbed the case of dominoes that the other students and I had played with earlier. “There's nothing small in amount, extent, or size in regards to me, so go get the bottles and let's do this.”

I
returned to Theo with both bottles and a smile. We played dominoes. He confessed to only playing a few times before, so after winning a few times, I became cocky enough to suggest that the loser take a triple shot of Henessey. After a few bitter shots, Theo advocated a new plan, which meant that the loser would also have to remove an article of clothing. Anxious to see what lay beneath his baggy jeans, I agreed.

What a mistake. Had I used my brain, I would've suited up before agreeing because four games lost meant off with my slippers, wrap skirt, bikini top, and then the bottom. Within thirty minutes, Theo hustled me out of almost every thread that covered my skin. He lied. He was a master domino player, and I didn't find his trickery funny.

Super intoxicated and cold as hell, I sat shyly at my dining room table in only my bikini bottom. The look on his face when I exposed my pierced nipples was one I wish I could bottle and play back on insecure days. To hold on to my dignity—and my bikini bottom—for a few moments more, I accused him of cheating, but he fought me tooth and nail.

“Well, I'm not taking it off,” I said stubbornly.

“Then I'll do it.”

“No.” I stood up and pretended to be angry, hoping he'd have mercy on me. “Because I didn't lose.”

“C'mon, Paige.” He stood up and towered over me. “You lost fair and square.” He made a move for my waist and I stepped back. “Where are you going?” He smiled. “If you run, don't think I can't catch you.”

I blushed. “Don't chase me.” I used my palms to cover my exposed, hard nipples.

“Just take it off,” he said.

I felt like a high school girl again. “Theo, please don't make me do this.”

“I don't like doing homework, but I have to.” He kept walking toward me. “So you have to.”

I took a big step away from him and pointed at myself. “But then I'll be naked.”

“What's wrong with being naked?”

“It's embarrassing enough that I'm topless right now.”

He licked his thick, sexy brown lips. “Once again, what's wrong with being naked?”

“That's an easy question for you to ask. You're still fully clothed.”

“If you want me naked, then I'll get naked.” He pulled his shirt and undershirt off in one big jerk. His bulky chocolate chest and arms seemed carved from the trunk of an oak. There were no words to compliment him with. I sighed and daydreamed of kissing and biting him in places a woman my age shouldn't dream of seeing on a man his age. Eighteen years old my ass. He couldn't be.

“We'll do our bottoms at the same time.” He stared at me. “All right?”

“No,” I yelled. “Let's just not do it at all. Let's end the game right here.” As bad as I wanted to see the junk in his trunk, I couldn't put myself out there. He had seen fifteen-, sixteen-, and seventeen-year-olds naked and I couldn't compete with them. I had to have surgery to put some things back where they used to be. I didn't think he'd view me with the same appreciation.

He said, “I thought you were into having fun tonight.”

“I am,” I spoke up. “I'm just not into humiliation.”

“Humiliation?” he repeated. “Paige, there's nothing humiliating about your body. Shit, you got me begging to see it.” He stepped closer to me, grabbed my hands, and lowered them away from my breasts. “You're beautiful, and you have nothing to be ashamed of.” He let go of my hands.

“All right,” I yelled and walked over to the light switch. “I'll do it if you do it, but with this light over here off.” I turned off the lamp and stepped to the center of my living room.

“Cool,” he said. “On the count of three.”

“Okay.” I took a deep breath. “One.” I was about to unveil my gem to this man, this boy, my student. How many drinks did I have? I untied the right side. “Two.” After this I needed to be the president of the South Florida branch of Alcoholics Anonymous because I was the poster child of “this is what alcohol might make you do.” I untied the left side. “Three,” I screamed and watched him lower his pants as I yanked my bikini bottom away.

Though the room was dim, I eagerly looked over to see his equipment to find that underneath his pants were boxer shorts. I was the only one naked. “That was dead wrong.” I felt naked in more ways than one and quickly stormed off to my bedroom. He caught the door before it slammed.

“C'mon, it was a joke. I didn't think you were actually going to do it,” he said.

“You talked me into it,” I complained. “Just wait out front for me while I find something to put on.”

“I'm sorry, Paige,” he said. “It was just a joke.”

“Hmm, I guess that's what I should've expected from a high school senior,” I whispered sarcastically. “A bunch of fuckin' jokes.”

“Don't go there.” He laughed. “I'm sorry.”

“Okay, well, now that you've seen what you came here to see, will you please wait in the living room?” I pointed at the door. “I'm going to find something to put on.”

He grabbed my hand as I tried to step farther into the dark room. “Are you really mad at me?”

I was upset with myself for being so naïve.
Look at him, those sexy brown eyes, luscious lips, and creamy chocolate skin. How could I be mad at him
? A part of me was excited, a huge portion drunk, another part embarrassed, and the rest of me wanted to see him naked too.

“I'm not mad. I just wish we wouldn't have gone as far as we did.” I paused and continued in a slur, “Now I'm drunk and naked. I'm your teacher. This isn't how things were supposed to happen.”

“How were things supposed to happen?”

“I don't know, just not like this.” I pulled away from his grip and walked around the room, lighting my jarred candles one by one instead of turning on the bright light and further exposing myself. “This isn't the way I saw things.”

“Then show me,” Theo said as the orange glow of the candles introduced itself to the walls of the room. “Show me the way things are supposed to be.”

“What do you m—?” I stopped when I turned to see him sitting on the edge of my bed.

“Come here.” He beckoned to me.

Nervous
wasn't the word for me. “Give me a minute.” I opened my lingerie drawer. “Let me put on so—”

“No,” he interrupted, “just come here.” Before I could protest, Theo grabbed me by the hand. “Things can still just happen. There's no script or pattern that we have to follow.” He gently pulled me his way. I was now standing between his legs with my knees pressed against the bed.

I trembled as his hands slid up my calves. “You feel good.” His fingers traveled up the backside of my thighs, his lips landed on my stomach, giving me precious little kisses, then the shit hit the fan . . . his tongue taunted my nipples.

“Theo.” I tried to stop him. “I don't know if—”

“Shh, shh,” he quieted me as his powerful hands latched onto my waist. “There's no right or wrong tonight, only what feels good.”

“Yeah,” I fought to be logical, “but I don't think that this is—”

“I don't care what this is or isn't.” He pulled me down by my hands to him. “Try not to care about anything that's not in this room.” He placed my arms around his neck. “Can you do that?”

I was busy trying to be politically correct, logical, and uptight. “Yeah, but—”

“Just answer the question.” He pulled me downward to him. “Can you do it or not?”

“Yes.” I was now on his lap, facing him, with my legs bent at his side. The pulse beating within his muscle growing beneath my naked skin felt like a tiny drum playing my favorite tune. “Yes, I can.”

“Good.” His young face was all smiles. “Show me what you want.”

At his command, my lips covered his like I was rendering CPR. However, it was he who was breathing life into me. Before I could gather what was right from wrong, left from right, or up from down, he had me belly up on the bed, hovering over me with a question. “Can I?”

I didn't say a word. I just shook my head up and down. I had no idea what I was consenting to, but I watched the top of his head disappear between my thighs and saw heaven fall from the sky when his tongue attacked my swollen, pinkish-brown cherry like it was a boxing bag. “Oh, oh, ooh . . .” I moaned. The sensation and suction was so powerful that my back arched away from the bed.

He inserted a thick caramel finger. “Oh, oh my goodness,” I whispered and rotated my hips as his tongue dove deeper into my infinite pit. “Shit.” I grabbed the sheets with so much force that I ripped them from the mattress.

“Stop,” I begged him. “Stop.” Pushing his head away, nearly out of breath, I asked, “Where did you learn how to do that?”

He offered a shy grin while crawling up my naked body. “In your class.” In his answer, I smelled my bittersweet aroma.

I struggled to regulate my breathing. “That was never in my lesson plans.” Still in shock, I said, “But that was . . .” I reached for and took a sip of the catalyst of this lunacy, my fifth glass of H-Squared, which was sitting on the nightstand. “That was unbefuckinlievable.” I laughed.

His legs dangled over the end of the bed. “So,” he rubbed his nose against mine, “you're the loser.”

“Wait a minute,” I interrupted him. “How did I get to be the loser?” I thought for a second. “I won a few times.”

He tried to make me remember. “We were playing strip
and
drink dominoes. So, let's see.” He paused. “You're drunk
and
you were the first one naked.” He laughed. “So that constitutes me as the winner.”

“Constitute?” I giggled longer than necessary. “Wasn't that a vocabulary word last week?”

“Yes.” He kissed my neck. “I used it in a sentence. Do I get extra credit?”

“Nope.” I blushed.

“Damn, what can a brotha do to get an A?”

“In the world today, you have to kiss ass.” I added sarcastically, “Brotha.”

“Ass?” He got serious. “I'm not into all of that. This brotha won't toss salad unless it's on a plate with some croutons.”

“I have bread in the kitchen if it's that serious.” I laughed.

When his hand touched my inner thigh, he felt me tremble. I told him that it had been a long time, though I never specified how long. He wanted to bring my wait to an end. “What's it gonna be?” He kissed my shoulder.

“Speak proper English,” I teased him. “What shall it be?”

“Fuck proper English.” He lay beside me then scooped his hand under me to turn me on my side. “Can I?” he asked.

I looked into his eyes, unprotected, and saw what I always thought I was too strong to see in him: a full-grown man. For weeks I thought that he was sexy, suave, seductive, and, although at times he didn't act like it, smart. However, I always had my shield up, causing his rays to bounce off of me, but tonight his brown eyes, thick coffee-colored lips, broad shoulders, and muscular arms caught me when my defense mechanisms were breached by intoxication. “Can you what?”

“Um.” He tried to control his nervousness and struggled with his words. “I meant, can we?” He took a deep breath. “Now that I've shown you that I can, well, now that you see that I know how to . . .” His hand slid down the side of my body, from my shoulder to the tip of my fingers, then down to my thighs. “Can I show you what else I can do?” I'm sure that he had never asked a woman that question, but he felt he had so much to prove to me.

“No.” My flirty eyes sucked him into a realm of passion he didn't know. “I can't let you outdo me.” I gently pushed his long, lean body to his back. “Why don't you let me show you a few things? Do you mind?” I asked and knelt between his knees.

“Not at all.” He looked at the perfect package before him and was even more aroused. I had turned the tables and he was pleased. It felt like a dream, but a dream that shouldn't be coming true. He was actually in
my
bed, his tongue was still saturated with
my
flavor, and
I
was naked before him, asking his permission to bring it.

I leaned forward and kissed him on the lips quickly. Then my tongue trailed him from the bottom of his neck to his smooth chest, then along the firmness of his abs. I lashed back and forth over his muscles, but stopped at the tip of his shorts and untied the drawstring with my teeth, then slid his boxers down, unveiling his audacious spectacle.

“Whoa,” I whispered to myself. The damn thing was big enough to have a social security number. I let my fingers walk up the side of it and counted nine steps. “Damn.” I was talking to myself again. Never in a million years did I predict that I would be a part of something that so many people would consider crass, asinine, and even criminal. I had no control . . . He was the right one; who he happened to be was the mistake. I was willing to take the chance, ready for any consequence, but more than anything, prepared to make room for him in my heart.

“It may be big, but it won't bite.” He joked about the way and the length of time I stared at his piece. “Show me what you got.” When the damp warmness of my mouth covered his skin, he muttered, “Damn,” and pushed into my moisture. Within seconds, I caught his rhythm and grew to adore his feel, smell, and taste. My mouth was a well-oiled machine, and all he wanted was to add a little more grease to my engine. “Oh, oh yeah, girl.” He struggled not to bite his bottom lip too hard, but ten minutes into it, he was squealing, squirming, and groaning like there was a bomb inside of him. The seconds were ticking away, and he was ready to explode.