By the time I get back to campus, I’m tipsy and ready to relax. Sounds of moaning fill the hall and get louder as I get closer to my door. I unlock the door and freeze at the sight of Skylar making out with some light-skinned chick in my bed.
“Now this is some bold shit!” I say and run to the bed and snatch both of them to the floor, one-by-one. I can’t believe my eyes. It’s like Skylar wanted me to walk in and catch them; like she’s intentionally trying to piss me off.
“Damn! Be easy, baby,” Skylar says while standing and helping the other girl off the floor. “You are more than welcome to join us.”
Spit from her mouth lands on the other girl when I slap the shit out of her. “Now, you join that!” I step back. “Yeah, you should leave before shit gets worse than it has.” It must be the three beers in me that gave me the courage to put my hands on her without second guessing.
“Whoa, hold up, Lil Mama. Now this room is mine just as yours,” she says while snickering. “You might need to get your rocks off, and maybe that’ll get your panties out a bunch. You don’t know what you missing until you try it, so until then, my advice to you… is don’t knock something you ain’t never tried.”
I’m livid that she insists on insulting me. But instead of acting a complete fool with her, which is what I assume she wants me to do, in a calm voice, I politely ask her and her company to leave for the night. She doesn’t pick up her pace, so I yell, “LEAVE! NOW!” at the top of my lungs. They both hurry to find the rest of their clothes and exit. My head pounds, and I just want to go to bed, but I refuse to sleep on the same sheets they were just fuck-ing on top of. I’m glad my mom taught me to keep extra linen. I find a clean set in my drawer and remove the dirty linen. I spray the mattress with Febreze and put on clean sheets. I’m too tired to brush my hair or write in my journal, so I change into my nightshirt, take a BC powder for the headache and get into bed.
After being in bed for Lord knows how long and unable to fall asleep, I turn and lay staring at the wall. The moaning and an image of Skylar having sex forms in my mind. I feel myself moistening between the legs, and it captures my entire body. To make sure I’m not fantasizing a sensation, I wiggle my hand in my panties and sure enough, my cookie is wetter than Hurricane Harbor at Six Flags Great America. I snatch my hand from in my panties. Is it weird that I’m turned on by the image of two women having sex? I ask myself. I touch between my legs again and my finger rubs against my button and sends a charge of energy through my entire body. It’s an unfamiliar feeling that I’ve never had. One I never knew existed. Jarmaine never touched me between my legs like that. He just stuck it in, and we got down to business. Or he would penetrate me with his fingers, assuming he was doing something. There was never a time when he and I had sex and my cookie got wet like it is now. That might explain why it was always so uncomfortable. Sometimes, it hurt me… well, most times it did.
I run my finger across my button again. My heartbeat speeds up and something in the pit of my stomach rages out of control, turning me on more. I try to take deep slow breaths to calm myself, but it doesn’t help. I turn on my back, take my Victoria Secret panties off, and eagle-spread my legs. I use one hand to enter my cookie jar and the other to caress my nipples. I am turned on but have no clue of what I’m doing. The rhythm of my hips matches my finger as I enter and exit my opening in a slow motion. The wetness of my opening is turning me on more and more. I remove my wet finger and message my button in soft, circular motions. I mirror the same motion on my nipples, one at a time. I can hear my cell phone ringing, but I can’t stop myself. Something is happening to me on the inside. My motions speed up. I spread my lips further apart as I open by legs as wide as they can go. I work my button with the opposite hand. I can’t stop. The build-up is getting stronger and more intense by the second. I move faster, and faster… and faster, until… until my entire body explodes. I exhale deeply and close my eyes.
I wake up the next morning full of energy and ready to start the day. It’s still early. The sun hasn’t even come up and Skylar is sound asleep in her bed. She must have crept in in the middle of the night. I ease out of bed and notice I don’t have any panties on and there’s a wet spot in the middle of my bed. I must have had a wet dream that ended very well. I remember smacking Skylar, but I don’t remember nothing else after that. Next time, I won’t drink so many beers. I snatch the fitted sheet off the bed and stuff it in the dirty clothes hamper on my way to the bathroom.
In the bathroom, I turn on my tunes and jump in the shower, allowing Tyrese to take me away. This man sure knows how to serenade a woman. “Sweet Lady.” He went from being the voice on the Coco-Cola commercial to having a number one hit. This song will never get too old, and I’ll be his “sweet lady” any day.
After my shower, I get dressed and Skylar is awake when I come out the bathroom. I ignore her when she tries to speak. I collect my belongings and make my way to the door. Skylar blocks the door with her arm.
I look her directly in the eyes and say with emphasis, “Move.”
“Is there a way I can make this up to you?” She pleads.
She doesn’t move when I give her a final warning, so I reach back to smack her again. She catches my hand and squeezes it.
“Just say you’ll forgive me, and I’ll let you go.”
“You have every bit of three seconds to let me go, and to move your ass or—”
“Or what? What can you do?”
I knee her between the legs without breaking my firm glare. She may not be a man, but apparently it worked because she lets go of my hand and clenched over in pain. “Now, when I say move, I mean move!” I step over Skylar and leave when she falls to the floor.
She laughs and says, “I wonder what you was thinkin’ about when you was masturbatin’ last night.” I reach over Skylar and she ducks. I grab the closest thing I could find, which was an umbrella, and whack her across her back as she tries to get up from the floor.
“Masturbate that, bitch!” I quietly say and slam the door. As I rush down the stairs to proceed with my Saturday morning, I wander to myself exactly what she is talking about.