“I can’t,” he strained, as a vein stretched across his forehead.
Laying on my back, with this 6’5, light brown skinned, cut physique having, long dread wearing, gentle facial features, team captain of a guy between my legs, who couldn’t last for more than three minutes. I was beyond irritated.
“Damn,” Harlem mumbled, as he collapsed on top of me, and kissed my lips. “That was good, bae.”
Laying there, I stared at the ceiling, wondering if the sex was ever going to get better.
I had been with Harlem since the summer before school restarted this year. He’d been chasing me for years and I finally gave in. Then after having several late nights on the phone and some passionate make-out sessions, we decided that we’d be together.
Up until deciding to be with him, I had never dated a boy in my area. My mama was from the hood, and most of her immediate family still resided there. So, I considered myself hood adjacent and found myself wildly attracted to the guys with some street in them.
I lowkey liked flirting with danger, and called myself falling for a thug. However, that thug life proved too much for me, after we were robbed at gunpoint by some jack boys. That incident immediately sobered me, and I walked away from that relationship, never looking back.
So, dealing with someone like Harlem had been a first for me. It was different. Cute even.
He came from a good family. His parents were still married, they had a big house in the next subdivision, down the road. I’d known him since middle school and had watched his transformation. He had always been tall, but was on the goofy side, initially. However, by the tenth grade, he’d found his swag, and the girls took notice.
By the time I’d decided to entertain him, he’d dated several other girls from school and had behaved respectfully. So, there were nothing but green flags.
I honestly recognized that there was a toxic side of me that loved a little chaos, and told myself that I needed something different. And Harlem was perfect for that. He was different. In the sweetest ways. Now, what I wasn’t expecting was for him to be completely sexually inexperienced.
One day, while we were chilling in my room, I literally took it there. Unzipped his jeans, pulled his dick out, jacked him off, before hopping on it. Never did I realize that I was taking his virginity at the time.
Once I realized that he really didn’t know how to fuck me back, I asked questions. That’s when he dropped that bomb on me. I was shocked to learn that I’d introduced him to sex. Honored too.
But after a while…my patience was running thin. I had been determined to teach him. He always wanted it. But was a slow learner. His dick was a nice size. I could definitely ride it to get myself off…but he could never last long enough in the pussy. It was frustrating. Meanwhile, he thought that he was in love, because I was the first piece of pussy he’d ever had.
Now, although I wasn’t fully satisfied, I think that I stayed because I appreciated his obsession with me, outside of the bedroom.
Harlem was a great boyfriend. He bought me things. His communication was consistent. He never fronted for his boys. And he was very vocal about his adoration for me. So, I told myself that we could work on the sexual part.
Because he was worth holding on to.
“Harlem,” I sighed, as he laid between my legs. “You at least gotta make me cum.”
“I want to, bae.” He kissed me again. “But I gotta go. I just made a pit stop over here, but I have to go pick my sister up from the YMCA. My parents both had something to do, so it’s my responsibility today.”
Shaking my head, I rolled my eyes, knowing that something had to give. “Look, whatever.”
Chapter 3
“Does everybody have their outfits together?” I questioned my crew, as we were all on a group chat video call via IG.
It was me, Tarin, Asha, Renny, and Shilo. My girls since the 5thgrade.
“Yep. My skirt was just delivered today. So, I’m good,” Asha responded.
“Yeah, I have mine too,” Tarin chimed in.
“Me too,” Shilo added.
“I’m wearing the one you picked out the last time we went to the mall,” Renny claimed.
“Okay, good,” I sighed, while jogging downstairs in my home. My girls were all falling in line. We were known around school as the girls who were always dressed to the nines, and we always pulled up to events dressed similarly. So, it was my duty to ensure that we were up to par for the upcoming basketball game that was the following night. “And Shilo, are you still wearing a ponytail?”
“Yep.”
“Okay. Well, you need to come get this edge control I have over here. It works for all hair textures and will give you the extra hold you need. Cause the edge control you used last time was not it.”
