The Last of the Romantics

I saw her sitting there alone in her truck.  Through the May showers, I could see the professor pantomiming whatever she was listening to.  My heart made a return to the forefront, pleading for me to talk to her.  Right on cue, my mind advised otherwise.


“And where were you last night, Mr. Heart?  Just took your bags and ran like a little bitch, huh?  Now you wanna give us advice after that debacle this morning?”


Debacle was being kind.  A shit show was more like it!  Now, for the record, it didn’t start off that way.  In fact, I was awakened by the warmth of Monique’s soul.  For some reason, thunderstorms made her horny.  I could feel her nectar all over me as I watched.  I had a front row seat to her ass, and was loving every minute of it!  She whimpered quietly as she rode me slow.  She wasn’t the sex crazed minx I had been with the night before.  This was the Monique I fell in love with.   


I could feel her lips grab hold of me, encouraging me to let go of the pressure that was built from several hours ago.  I placed my hands on her hips while I drove myself deep inside.  I was getting close and she wasn’t even biting my nipples!  I knew I was close, but like last night, she beat me to the punch.


“Oh shit Hamilton!  Damn!”


She continued her orgasm for a good minute before she was able to return.  I could feel the wetness underneath.  She didn’t apologize for her actions.  Instead, she said


“I want you to come inside me”


My mind started singing:


“Give me the green liiiiiggghtt!”


Unfortunately, my heart wasn’t in it.  He was still MIA, but I believed that I could still get the job done without him. I continued on, but there was no relief in sight.  We were four positions in and I still couldn’t!  I asked her to lay on her side as I climbed behind her.  Seeing her posterior in that position always brought me to my peak.  But it didn’t work last night and it wasn’t working this morning.  I had to think fast!  There was no shield protecting me this time!  If I didn’t come, Monique would know for certain that I faked the first round.  I tried to get my mind to focus, but it seemed like it was on some acid trip that I wasn’t invited to.  As Monique threw it back on me, I started to think about Naomi.  It was bad enough that this woman was shutting me out.  But now I was imagining being inside of her instead of Monique!  I was ashamed to admit it, but I couldn’t shake her.  Just hearing that raspy, alto voice made me smile.  In the four months that I had known her, she had become a great friend.  A confidant.  I could look at her face all day and not be tired. I missed her.  


Without knowing, I started to envision my first time with Naomi.  How her curvy body would feel next to me.  How her delectable breasts would taste in my mouth.  How the energy in our bodies would rival that of the outside storm.  Before I knew it, I felt myself becoming alive and strong.


“Yes Naomi! Yes!”


My speed quickened as one hand cupped her breast and the other gripped her shoulder.  She felt as though she wanted to run away, but I held her in place.


“Naomi!  Naomi!  I’m, about to, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”


The roar from my belly filled the room.  After I had nothing left to give, I rolled over and enjoyed the rain.  I thought Monique was going to lay down with me.  Instead, she took my c-pap machine and hit me in the chest with it, knocking all of the wind out of me!


“Nigga!  You gonna call me by another bitch name?”




I tried to catch my breath.  Monique jumped up from the bed and ran into the bathroom.  I wanted to understand the situation.  Did I call out Naomi’s name?  Shit!  Monique and I weren’t in a committed relationship, but still?  Who wants to be called by someone else’s name? During sex?  No one!  I dropped my head in shame after realizing my error.  As I started to fix the bed, Monique came out of the bathroom in last night’s attire.


“I guess whoever this Naomi bitch is has your heart now, huh?


“Monique, I’m sorry.  I really . . .”


“Here I was, thinking that we could be this fucking super couple that you always talked about! And you, are here with me, calling me by another bitch name?  You really have me fucked up mister!  Lose my number nigga!  Don’t you ever, in your life, call me again!”


I could see her head about to explode as she made her way to the door.  I didn’t want Monique to leave my life like this.  I wanted to explain my side of the story.  Desperately, I reached out for her hand.  Monique slapped it away and gave me the coldest stare.


“Hamilton, if you touch me, so help me God I’ll kill your ass!”


I attempted to speak, but she cut me off at the pass.


“Save your high level score words for that Naomi bitch!”


Within seconds, she was down the stairs and out the house.  I went to my bedroom window and watched as she raced down the damp road.  I sat on the bed rubbing my chest, praying that she didn’t crack my clavicle.  I grabbed my phone and saw that it was almost nine o’clock!  I wanted to be in Augusta before noon.  I needed to get going, but my mind was all over the place.  I needed to erase my mind of this morning’s drama.  


“Alexa, play the Brown Tape, Ghostface Killah”


As the childlike chorus began to echo throughout the room, I regained my focus. Today was not about Monique’s feelings.  It was about my son.  Whether he knew it or not, Brandon needed me to bail him out once again.  There was no telling what condition I was going to find him in.  I could only imagine the curse words that were going to be thrown at me.  How I may have to subdue him in order to get him to see the doctor.  I needed to be strong, for the both of us.


After packing the car, I placed the spare key in the plant for Allen.  As I walked back to the garage, my phone buzzed.  




Typical Naomi.  I was surprised that she didn’t send a meme to say hello.  Whenever she put her walls up, she was very short with her words.  Video clips and memes were her way of having conversation.  When she allowed herself to be vulnerable, she would send me videos of her, wishing me a good morning and praying for my safe travel.  She would call during the day to check in on me.  And at the end, we would video chat or meet somewhere and just talk.  It had been a long time since I felt comfortable talking to someone without there being an ulterior motive.  I felt safe in her company.  Her ability to listen and be humorous made her irresistible.   There was a chemistry that couldn’t be denied.  I was willing to help her unpack her insecurities and love freely.  Deep down, I think she felt it too, and now she was scared.  So we begin the masquerade again.  Instead of disclosing my family business, I do what most singles do in this situation; lie.


“I’m getting ready to walk into a meeting.  And you?”


”Still in the bed”




And that was the end.  I shook my head and made my way down the road.  About five minutes into the ride, my stomach started to remind me that I hadn’t eaten or taken my medication. I couldn’t take my medicine without something to eat.  At the first red light, I called in a breakfast order to Midnight Diner.  From where I was, it would take me about fifteen minutes to get there.  I deducted that I could eat my chicken and waffles in the car before I started my journey down Interstate 77.  


As I pulled up into the parking lot, I saw a familiar vehicle.  


“It can’t be!  She said that she was still in the bed?”


The sorority tag gave it away.  It was indeed Naomi, singing along to whatever song she was listening to.  Now this is where my heart wanted to make its triumphant return, but I wasn’t hearing it.  I sat and stewed in my anger.  I looked up at the roof and tried to forget that I had seen her.  I prayed that she had already gotten her order and was getting ready to drive off.  I was not so lucky as I heard a knock on my window.


“So when did you start going to work in sweat suits, Dr. Simon?”


“Actually I’m not going to work.  I’m headed out of town”


“So, you were just going to leave and not tell a sista?”


“It came up yesterday.  I need to attend to a personal matter”


“Hamilton, c’mon now!  What’s really going on?  Why are you talking to me like you don’t even know me anymore?”



Written by the Wednesday Gentleman

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