Many Chance Summer

Say It, Say It, Say It...

     After a really fancy dinner, Six and I go watch movies. But before I dwell on those, let's talk about the freaking dinner, please. Jamaal took me to La Nourriture, a really fancy, French restaurant about thirty minutes from Harvey's. It's really fancy and expensive. Jamaal talked about the place as if he goes there often. Like, it's his fast food. He just stops by whenever he wants, orders some take out, and leaves.

      But then I had to wonder, had he taken his other girls here, too? To impress them?

       "No, Naeya. You have no one to worry about. Not Becca, or any other of my exes."

      I believe him.

In the theater, Jamaal and I are in our second movie (we snuck in) and we're not very interested in the film playing on the huge screen in front of us.

Jamaal's hand is caressing my thigh. He's massaging it seductively and sliding it up, inch by inch. He nuzzles his face in the crook of my neck and kisses me gently, releasing a light sigh from my lips. From my left side, he brings his left arm around my neck and our lips are attached. His arm is pressing against my boob but I don't mind. I like it. I like this.

We kept making out and eventually he's hovering over me, only a little. If we weren't in public who knows how far this would've gone?

"Hey!" A woman's harsh voice hisses from in front of us. Jamaal and o break away, ashamed, and stare at her. "Will you two teenagers stop it? People are trying to watch a movie!"

I stifle my laughter and Jamaal takes my hand. I have only a few seconds before he's pulling me out of the row, down the stairs, and out of the theater.

      We can't wait until we go home. The moment both of us are in the back seat, were on each other.

Everything is a blur. The car rocks back and forth madly and I twist my body in the weirdest positions. Jamaal and I are so hot, I'm not thinking about anything but him and right now and what I want to do to him, with him. Oh, God. What I wan him to me.

Minutes later, my bra is off and so is Jamaal's shirt. He's groping me, feeling me, under my light, summer dress. It feels so good. I have never felt this way before. When Jamaal grabs my neck, I don't even freak. We're making out and he plays with my nipple and they are so fucking hard. But just as things seemed to be taking another road, Jamaal stops and rests his head on my chest.

We both breathing so hard, trying to get oxygen into our muscles. Jamaal's head squishes my boobs and I know he's listening to my heart beat. But why? Didn't he feel good? Weren't we having fun?

"J-Jamaal?"

"Baby."

He sounds sleepy.

"What's the matter? Did I do something wrong?"

Jamaal presses his pelvis hard against me. I feel him under his shorts.

"Oh, God, no, baby. You're fuckin' perfect."

I run his hair that's growing out a little.

"Then what's the matter?"

Jamaal smiles up at me as if realizing something.