WILD THANGZ by Winston Chapman (An Essence Magazine National Best Seller)

Chapter 17

When Trina got home, I left my apartment. I just had to get out of there. I was about to lose my damn mind and just needed to be someplace else.

I didn't tell Trina what was going on. I just told her that if she planned to leave to call me and I'd come right back home.

After a long day of Final Exams, Trina wasn't planning to go anywhere.

I drove around the I-285 loop twice, before I decided to stop by Slick-N-Thick to hang-out with Brea, who was working tonight and always good for a laugh.

The club wasn't as busy as on the weekends, yet I was still surprised at the number of people in the club on a Tuesday night.

I sat at the bar, as I couldn't see Brea anywhere. I figured that she must be in the back- room changing or something.

It did feel different going to the club alone and without Trina. I found myself turning down dancers that must've assumed that I was a lesbian, as different women kept coming up to me to ask if I'd like a lap-dance.

After about 15-minutes, I was getting frustrated waiting to see Brea, but I knew she was here, at least that's what the last two dancers that had come-up to me said when I asked.

I was debating whether or not to order another drink, or should I just leave, when I saw Brea coming out of one of the VIP-rooms. She was laughing to someone that was hidden by the corridor wall that led to the VIP-rooms.

Seeing that at least she was here, I turned my attention to the bartender to order the drink I'd previously debated.

It took a few minutes to get the bartender's attention and when I turned back around, I didn't see Brea anymore.

Damn! Just great!, I thought to myself.

I scanned the room for her. Eventually I located her. She had her back to me, grinding on a customer that was seated in a chair.

It's a damn shame that I'm able to recognize her from the back, I thought.

I wasn't going to interrupt her during her dancing, but I wanted to walk past her, so that she'd know that I was here.

As I attempted to do so, I was already beginning to gain my laughter from Brea, as her legs straddled the seated man whose face was blocked by Brea's gyrating body. Brea held onto the back of the chair behind the man's head and had her titties all up in his face.

I sped-up my walk, as I wanted for her to notice me while she was doing that shit because I knew her reaction was sure to make me smile.

Boy, was I ever wrong. When Brea saw me, she did smile. But when she moved the giant titty of hers that blocked the man's face to reveal it was Mr. Whitfield that she was dancing for, I lost my smile.

"Heyy-aaayy ... umm ... umm ...," Mr. Whitfield struggled to recall my name as he was very drunk.

"Jazymn!" Brea helped him remember my name.

I was embarrassed as hell. For him. For me being in the club in front of him. For Brea working in the club. For the fact that she'd had her titties all in his face. I didn't know what to do.

Brea and Mr. Whitfield seemed not to be uncomfortable at all.

I know my face had an 'eeewww' expression on it witnessing a friend of mine's father in this state.

"Jazmyn, join us!" Mr. Whitfield invited me. "You want a drink?" "No thank you," I politely responded, with my feet glued to the floor.

"Sit down, Jazmyn," he encouraged, pulling out a chair as Brea continued grinding to the beat of the song.