Do not proceed if offended by Sexually explicit stories between same sex individuals. If you are under age please stop right now.
Bedtime Stories Presents Another series by Edmike
Young Lovers of Tomorrow...
With MarcAlain Antoine & Devante Lawrence
Prologue
"Damn man! I just wish dis rain would just chill out fo tomorrow." Devante says in a low-tone to me as we are cruising on the Northern State Parkway, heading home from the light dinner we just enjoyed in the Village. DevAlain is asleep in his baby-seat in the back of the Punch Buggy, I observe as I'm turning around from checking on him. 'He is so cute in his sleep,' is on my mind as I'm turning around. He looks just like his daddy. I smile at that thought, and finally, turn to face the front. As I'm turning around, I look at Devante's facade on the driver's side, and I roam the dashboard that indicates that we are doing 65mph. I also look at the clock that clearly indicates that it's 17 minutes till eleven. Then I look at the window on my side. It's pouring like it's the deluge of 2001. 'Man, it is pouring!' I'm thinking as I listen to the musical piece that the drops are making on the windshield.
"He asleep?" Devante ask in his low, but deep voice. I love the way he sounds, it makes me shiver in excitement. A voice that makes your insides tremble with joy. Yes, a smooth to almost near perfection sound that's unexplainable. I love my man. I turn my face and nod as to indicate that yes he is. But, then I add in a yawn,
"Yes he is... He's so gorgeous in his sleep. Just like you." I smile.
"Well, ya know..." He laughs lightly. Then, I look at his bucktooth and laugh lightly, in fear of waking Lil'Dev up. 'DevAlain is going to be two years old already,' is also going through my mind as we laugh. "You tired huh, baby?" He continues.
"I'm tired like a muthafucka..." I yawn again.
"I know, I know... I'm gonna take you home and massage yo entire body. How does dat sound?" He says almost in a whisper. I love the way he gives massages, it feels as if something sexual. But no sex included. So imagine Sex?
"I'd love that!" I respond in joy.
"I'm gonna make you feel good for yo big day tomorrow."
"Oh, yeah... I almost forgot. Another photo shoot?"
"Uh huh. Another cover shoot for Next magazine, rememba? You gonna look so fly with da new hair cut." He nods his head.
"Yeah, it's short now... They're coming too early, man!" I complain and reach for the visor that has a mirror in it and turn on the light. I observe my face carefully.
"Well, you know how it is in this business. Time is money." He smiles. And I follow. I then notice a mark or zit on my face. I move closer to the mirror.
"Hey, would you look at that!" I say slowly and in a low tone, not realizing that it came out of my mouth.
"What? What's the matter?" He asks quickly as he tries to look at what I was looking at.
"I don't know what it is, but it's a freaking mark on my face under my eye."
"Sweetie, lemme see?"
"Nah, its nothing..." 'keep you eyes on the road,' I hear a voice announce me, as if it was from the dream I had the other night. It was an inner voice. "Keep your eyes on the road, please boo." I continue without even realizing if he wasn't looking at the road or even without realizing that I repeated what the voice told me. And, in slow motion, I put the visor back up, and roll my eyes down to look at the blurry red lights ahead of us. I turn suddenly with a facial expression warning him to observe the road and we have to slow down, and I see his alarming face turn a 90-degree angle, as his hands rapidly grips on the steering wheel. My lips are beginning to part to voice out, cry out the holy word, as the anti-lock system begins to skip. I'm looking ahead with fear in my face, lips, hands, body, the car starts to cry, and bang! The car slams into the other... And, the few seconds the loud bang lasted, the four fantastic years of my life had flashed before me...
Part One.
End of Summer 1997. Port-au-Prince, Haiti.
"... yo, for some reason I don't feel like going man. It's like, I'm afraid or something." I said as I switched the phone from my left ear to the right. I got up from the chair and looked outside the window. "Well, you know, it's probably that you're nervous. It's a big thing. You know, boarding a plane for the very first time and going to this exciting place of the world." My best friend Olivier responded back on the other end. "Yeah, you might be right. New York City here I come!" We both laughed out loud. "My mom just arrived, I gots to go now my friend." I continued as I saw my mom rushed to the front door. "Yo, I'm gonna swing by to take you to the airport as well ok?" "Olivier, that's so thoughtful of you. But it will be too emotional. I don't wanna cry." "Fuck you bitch. I'm gonna come by anyway man. Can't get rid of me that quick." "Ok. Ok." With that we hung up the phone and I turned around to face my mother who was stressed out and sweating. She was more nervous than me. "Mother relax. I'm the one who's going away." I said and smiled at her. "Eske ou fin'n... did you pack all of your things? Did you take your toothbrush?..." She began reciting to me in our motherly tongue, Creole.
I dragged my suitcase to the front and awaited the taxicab. Olivier was waiting for me on the front porch with an envelope. We both inhaled and exhaled when we saw each other, and he quickly approached me with a hug. "Yo... It's time." He said as he released me from the hug "I know..." I walked down the steps to the front yard. Olivier followed me. I didn't want my mom to over hear what I was about to tell him. "As I was taking a shower earlier, I was thinking about all the 'slutting' experience you've put me into." I said almost in a whisper and laughed. As I laughed, the vivid memory I have with Olivier played before me.
I was fifteen and in the eleventh grade when I met Olivier. He was weird, one might say. I mean he was loud and appeared outgoing. He was what we call now a 'Queen'. Everything had to be her way or no way. But, even though she- I mean he- was a loud and straightforward person, there was something that made us clicked from the get go. And I never knew what it was until that night he made a move on me. We were attending the same American school in Port-au-Prince, and we were in the same class with the other 58 students. Apparently the school ran out of Algebra books for the class, so guess who had to share book with me? Yeah, Olivier Jean Phillipe. Back then, I also knew something was wrong with me. Well, not really wrong, but it felt like that. I mean, I was constantly asked to play a sport by the other kids during recess and of course I refused. I never had a real girlfriend, though the person I was with thought that I was going to be the one. I always loved combing my hair and spend as many hours on my face. I had to look beautiful for some reason. Well, to make a long story short, one night -and get this, that was the following week after we met... the slut she is-Olivier was over my house working on the assignment for the next day. We were lying side by side on the floor in my room. The book was of course on the floor and we- well, I was- were working just like the last time he was here. And then, out of nowhere, "Have you ever kissed a boy before?" He asked me as he was writing in his notebook. I, of course, gasped for I have not heard him right. "What?" I dropped the pencil to face him. "Have you ever kissed a boy before?" He asked again, as if this was an ordinary conversation. Olivier was sixteen about to be seventeen, so I'm assuming he knew more than me, right? "What do you mean?" Mind you, he kept on writing as if nothing. "OK. What do you think I mean?" "I dunno whachyou mean." I responded as I looked as his face. He then paused on whatever he was doing, acted as if he was thinking, and turned to look at me. "I mean have you ever done that..." and his lips fell on mines. I quickly moved back and pushed him back, "Yo, what are you doing?" I asked slightly confused, but not upset. "I was showing you how to kiss a guy. That's all." He picked up his pencil and began to write. "You've done that before?" I asked as I grimaced.
"Yeah. A lot of times. With people you know too." "Oh?" "Yeah. Its not that bad... Wanna try it again?" He asked as he played with the eraser with his bottom lip. He fixed those dark brown eyes on me, as I roamed his milk chocolate face, and those medium size lips. Something within me wanted to try it again. It's like I was longing for this. Being kissed by a guy. And of course we did after I nodded slowly. It was the most incredible feeling that I've ever felt. In fact, it felt better then when I did it with Johane. The way he held my head, and the way he massaged my tongue. Ooh. It was hot. We only did it this not more than seven times. Then, I was introduced to some of his friends, where I learned more stuff. And had flings that didn't last that long, since I was this great expensive commodity; I was the most wanted in town- if you know what I mean. We never spoke about our experiences together then, but we got closer as friends- more so, sisters.
I laughed at the thought.
"Me? Bitch, you were born a slut!" He replied, as he laughed out loud as well. "It was fun. I'm gonna miss all of that. Especially... you my friend. I'm gonna miss all the friends we've made together." "I'm gonna miss you too. But, I think I might make it too. They told me by January everything should be fine." He said as he looked at me from head to toe, "You look great. All dressed up for the Academy Awards." He grinned. "I know... It's my mother, man. She said I had to wear my best Sunday." We laughed. As I was about to say something the taxicab arrived, and I had to go get my luggage. "Yo, lets go get your bag." Olivier offered. "Promise me you will call me as soon as you get there." He continued. "I will. I will." He handed me over the envelope he had, and whispered, "Open this when you're in the plane." "Ok..." my voice was overlapped by my mother yelling 'Hurry up, you' re gonna miss the plane' in Creole. We said our good byes, and what I didn't want to happen was becoming more obvious. My eyes filled up.
Mom began giving me a speech on how to behave myself, what's expected of me, and the reason I'm going to New York in the first place. She also gave a speech on drugs, sex, and all other things that mothers worry about. I'm headed for College in the big city, all alone, and on Campus. Already I missed my mother. I loved my mother dearly, and understood the pain that she had to suffer to get me there. My mother and I had a close relationship. Not the touchy-touchy-I-love-you sort of thing, but we hung-out, spoke about girlfriends, and other cool stuff. It was cool until we had a big argument about hanging out too late with friends. She caught me smoking a cigarette and uttered these lovely words to me 'When I see you, I feel the need to vomit,' in Creole, when my friends were around. Still, I couldn't stop loving my mother. They always say that the love you have for your parents is so much more different then loving someone else. As I stood in the airport, staring at the person whom I love very much, and replaying these hurtful lines, made my eyes tear up. "Ou tande... You hear me! Don't ever let that happen to you." She said in our motherly tongue. She began searching for something in her purse. I looked away as I didn't want to be consumed by this emotional moment. "Here. I had saved this for you on a special day like this." She handed me a little box. I took the box from her and began to open it. "It belonged to your father. He wanted you to have it... that is when you got older." She continued. "Mother..." My voice cracked as I noticed a beautiful gold chain. Tears began to run down my face. I began to think about my father. Never have I asked my mother for him, and never have I wondered where he was. All I knew is that once he loved me. But, all of a sudden, I began to think about the man who left this gift for me. And also the person who gave me the features that all have adored. Mother began rubbing her hand through my silky-curly-light-brown hair, then down my caramel cheek. She then brushed my thick and bushy eyebrows with her thumb. The tears then made me close my almond shape, green with specs of brown eyes as they rolled down my face. I was half- White German and half-Black Haitian. My mother told me once that my father's parents had migrated in Haiti for a better life. Indeed, they had an extraordinary life. They were poor Germans whom came with nothing of whatsoever, and became Millionaires in the cooking and baking industry. Nonetheless, I was not born of a marriage. My father did call me his own, but 4 years later he was forced into marriage with this other German lady. My mother used to work for the company, so that's how they met. We heard the flight attendant alerting us to board the flight. Then my mother pulled out something out of her purse again. She had rolled it into her hand and placed into mines. "Here. That's fifty dollars to catch a cab to the school. Remember the address and don't act like a tourist." She said to me as she grabbed me for a hug. "I'm gonna miss you mommy." I said in between sniffed. "Well, it was sooner or later. I'm gonna miss you too son." She whispered to me, as she hugged me tighter. "..." I pulled back to look at her. "Now, go on before you miss the flight. And ... don't forget." She did this thing with her fingers, as in gathering something. Well, my mother always told me to bring a person like me home to her so that her grand daughter's hair would be... you know, soft. So, she pretends to gather naturally soft hair and comb it very gently. Some crazy shit she does. I smiled lightly, "Ok... Mom... Thank you." "You're welcome. Now, go..." She said as she grabbed me for another hug. "I love you mommy." "I love you too." We both pulled back, and I noticed tears forming in her eyes. Well, that eventually triggered more tears on my end. I began to cry like a baby. Shhh!!! I heard her say, and waved me to go in. I put the box in my pocket along with the money and turned around. I never turned back until I was in the plane.
After I finally realized that I was in a trance staring out of the window, I checked my watch for the time. It must have been for more than an hour and a half that I've been looking outside. I shook my head lightly,-that's to wake me the fuck up- and reached down my shirt pocket for Olivier's envelope. I then noticed that someone was seated next to me. I quickly glanced up to see his face, but quickly took my glare off because he was glaring back. "You OK?" He asked me in Creole. His starbust breath just cleared my nostril. I looked back up, "Yes... Yeah... I'm fine." Slightly disturbed that he would ask me that. "Well, I didn't think you were. You were staring outside for the past..." he checked his watch, " hour and forty five minutes." "Oh? I was huh" "Uh huh." He said as he fixed himself in the seat. I noticed that he had a pair of Nike sneakers - wait, two different sneakers- some jeans and a regular Nike tee shirt. His complexion was of a chocolate cookie with coarse hair. His full light pink lips were accompanied with a light mustache. He was cute. "You look as if you left a lot behind. Coming back from vacation?" He continued. "No... No, actually its my first time going. I'm on my way to college." I responded as I began to tear up the envelope. I saw him paused from his actions, as in shocked. "Oh, really?... That's great! So, you have family up there or something?" Apparently burning my face with his eyes. I inhaled, "No. Uh uh. I'm gonna live on campus." I looked back at him. "Wow! That's what I wanna do too. I hear that its way cooler on campus; more parties... more chicks." He responded with great joy. I smiled at his excitement, "I know..." I proceeded in English, but realized what I said and rephrased it in Creole. (Oh, by the way, Creole is not a broken language... It's a language just like all the others.) Apparently, homeboy was amazed that I spoke English that he preceded in English. I learned that he also came from an American school back there- the most expensive one, Union School- and just graduated as well. He was a year older than me, 18. He also was undecided about what he really wanted in life. I mean, I understood him on that point, coming from a rich family, it would be a hassle knowing what you want when you already have it all. On the other hand, I was not as fortunate as he said he was. We lived downtown- and living downtown was like living in the projects- and could not offered most things. Sometimes I would listen to the kids brag about how much chicken they had to eat, while we couldn't afford that everyday. Don't get wrong, we could have ate chicken everyday if this money wasn't being spent on my tuition for school. I'm my mother's only child, and she wanted the best for me. Thus, I knew what I wanted in life, and especially in school.
After the never reaching four hours of the trip, I've learned more about him then he did about me. He was a sports fanatic as well as music. We had some things in common there. The plane had reached its gate. "What's your name man?" He asked as he extended his right hand. The flight attendant was going over what we were supposed to be doing. "Oh, I'm... My name is MarcAlain Antoine. MarcAlain, that's one word." I replied as I grabbed his hand. "Oh, MarcAlain..." He softly laughed, "that's unique. Richard Normil." We quickly shook hands. Then he took the envelop out of my hands- of course, I never got a chance to read the letter- and scribbled down his number. He told me as soon as I got settle to give him a call so that he could show me around. Well, of course I was excited; I didn't even reach yet and I was making new friends already. Go Marc! I had taken the cab as my mother and the counselor told me. It wasn't a long trip from JFK International Airport to Queens College. Well, I was so taken aback at the beauty of the city, for example, the 'flying' cars on the freeway, the buildings, and the diversity of people that I didn't really keep track of time. Even the driver noticed that because he started a conversation with me. He told some pretty positive and negative stuff. He said watch out for the 'hood lums' or the 'thugged-out' youngsters. When I arrived at the school I noticed that it was more beautiful then it was shown on the brochure. I met with the counselor. She was this young white lady, sort of like Jennifer Anishton. She sounded so old on the phone. Her name was Mrs. Weiner and she was very polite. She seemed like she enjoyed helping students. After a long walk around the school, she escorted me to my dorm. It was good for me, but then she told me that I don't need to be surprised to be the only one roaming the halls because most of the students left. School doesn't start till another week or so.
The room had two twin beds, one in each corner with a night table in the middle. I already claimed the one that was one the right. It looked fluffier. I also saw the phone on the night stand, and quickly thought of calling Richard. But, then I was like - nah, let me enjoy being alone now, because my roommate will be coming soon. Mrs. Weiner told me that they should be appointing someone in a few days. I wanted to take a shower and headed out to check the bathroom. To be honest I didn't really like the idea of an 'open to all' bathroom. But what can I say? Its either I did it or didn't do it. Anyway, I took the warm shower rather quickly and headed back to my room. I had the towel wrapped around my 34 inch waist, as I rushed my 5'6" body into the room. My hair was soaked and laid flat on my scalp. I quickly brushed it back as I looked at myself in the mirror, half naked. I then took the baby oil and began rubbing it all over my body. As I rubbed some over my nipples, they quickly got erect making me close my eyes and moan. I rubbed them again, and I got chills all over me. My manhood began to feel it too. I moaned again. I reached down to my navel, and gently rubbed the oil, making my little trail of light brown hair glisten. Then, I removed the towel, letting it dropped to the floor, and began rubbing my thigh, my butt cheeks. I hissed as I rubbed them, they were sizzling. My manhood was in full effect by that time. It was waiting for me to touch it. I moaned at the thought. Then, I dragged myself to bed, and lied on my back just like my mother had me. Yeah, my 7 incher was pointing right at the ceiling. I began to grind my butt cheeks on the bed. Then, I grabbed my pulsating muscle and began to pull back and forth. Back and forth, and up and down. I began seeing all the people I've enjoyed the last few months. But there was this one that just kept on coming. He was younger then me, but boy did he know how to work an ass. He screwed me so delicately that I gave him an award for--- you know what. Yes, I did. I gave him an award. He deserved it. And I that thought I began rubbing, pulling, and beating my manhood, about to release two weeks of juice all over me. I moaned.
To be Continued...