“Me, out? I’m surprised Nikki undid your chain from the street post.”
“At least I’m guaranteed great pussy every night. It’ll happen to you, Elijah, when you get hitched.”
“Please stop talking about Elijah and pussy. He’s marrying my sister. C’mon Rocky, this was supposed to be a pain free night,” I whined.
“Oh yeah, my bad. Anyways so look, all I’m saying is that sometimes you need to spice things up a little, keep that fire going. For example one time, Nikki did actually use the dog chain on me. Made me eat her out for like an hour.” He lifted his glass with a wide shit-eating grin on his face.
“I’m not a bondage type of guy. We’re more into kama sutra, exploring different positions.”
“OH FUCK, NO ELIJAH, YOU DID NOT JUST SAY THAT.” Raising my voice I accidently tipped some bourbon into the peanut bowl. No one ever ate that shit, except for Rocky.
“Let’s change subjects perhaps.” Elijah frowned.
“OH YES!” Rocky cheered. The music started playing and Madonna’s Like a Virgin played over the speakers. The strippers strutted their stuff on the stage, all dressed in white virginal looking bodices with their little white thongs. The older girl pulled Rocky up onto the stage due to his over enthusiastic reaction to the song.
“Damn, those jeans look even tighter when the spotlight’s on.” Elijah winced.
“Fuck man, I think you can see the shape of his balls.” I scowled.
Rocky moved on the stage, mimicking the strippers as they slid up and down the pole. The sight was good and bad at the same time. Moments later he was surrounded by the three girls, tits all bouncing in his face. He looked like he was in titty heaven – that was until his face turned bright red and his goofy grin was replaced by an embarrassed, forced smile.
“What’s up with him?” I asked.
“I don’t know. You reckon he blew in those pants?”
“Fuck, he couldn’t have. I don’t know how you could possibly get hard in those,” I wondered out loud.
“I don’t know but he looks uncomfortable. Wait, he’s coming our way.”
“Dude, why the face? You jizz in your pants?”
“No...” he answered defensively. He turned around, unsure of what I was looking for but it stared me right in the face: a giant split in the seam of his pants right down the middle of his ass.
“DUDE!” Elijah and I roared in unison.
“Fuck you, guys... It was fine till Destiny told me to crouch down so I could smell her pussy,” he whimpered.
“Well why the fuck did you crouch down to do that?” Elijah asked.
“Because I wanted to smell it!”
“Dude, I don’t think that pussy smells any good. More like a sea bass that has been sitting out for days.”
“Oh shit, man. Sea bass is one of my mother’s famous recipes,” I complained.
“I know,” chuckled Elijah.
“I need more drinks,” Rocky whined.
The rounds kept coming and the three of us were way too intoxicated to understand each other’s conversation. Someone could’ve tried to sell me Brooklyn Bridge and I would’ve bought it. I watched the strippers gyrate throughout the night; by then my vision had blurred and I knew it was coming to an end before I passed out. The music changed once again, this time playing Usher’s Make Love in the Club. It was soothing compared to the rest of the shit they played. A young girl walked slowly onto the stage. She looked different...she was a brunette. My eyes fixed on her. She wore a pale pink bra with a matching thong. She had long brown hair that sat above her waist. She looked new, maybe a rookie. She took to the pole closing her eyes ignoring the men in the front who yelled vulgar words at her. As she opened her eyes they met mine. Big chocolate brown eyes fixated on me. I felt a slight stir in my pants. It was time to leave.
Chapter 3
Charlie
Delete-delete-delete. The emails were coming thick and fast but I chose to ignore them…him. What was he going to tell me? It was all manipulated by the media and he was the victim? Bullshit. I was stronger than this, I didn’t need him. If I could handle seven years without him then I could get through this. At least that’s what I kept telling myself.
Eric came to my rescue in the parking lot. He saw me at my most vulnerable moment. He wanted to take me up to my apartment but I refused. Instead he grabbed some of my things and took me to his place. I sobbed the entire way, and he looked at me, helpless. He was unable to ask the questions that lingered and I was unable to give him answers. But I picked myself up the only way I knew how: putting my head in the sand, ignoring the situation and pretending it didn’t exist.