Pu##y Galore (Part 1)

(18+ for sexual situations involving young people. If that bothers you, read something else.) This is the same character from post661646.html#p661646 but in an entirely different universe.

Pussy Galore

SHE WAS THIRTEEN, I was only eleven. She’d smile and blow kisses at me and all that little cute shit, but I figured it was just teasing. I mean what would you think? It was pretty much understood among all of us that Naomi was about the finest chick in the hood that wasn’t already grown. Her body was so far ahead of the rest of her that even grown men couldn’t help but throw a few greedy glances her way. She could have pretty much anyone she wanted so why’d she wanna mess with a little kid like me?

I took Joe’s advice and grew out my hair til I had a decent size fro. I had one of those picks. You know the kind; the one with the metal prongs and the black fist. Gabe gave it to me. I guess he really was black after all. As long as I knew Gabe he always had his hair cut real low so you couldn’t tell if it had any naps or not. That’s pretty much the only way you can tell with some of these light skinned dudes, whether they’re really black or not. I figured he was from Louisiana cuz I heard him speaking French a few times. Not the Canadian style, but a more southern kinda accent if you listened close enough. It’s a lotta black dudes down there.

But anyway, I had my hair long enough to get cornbraids for about a week before I got word from Naomi. She sent Keisha, the youngest of her friends, over to me while I was playin basketball with the guys at the courts. Joe and Larry and all of those guys were on the opposing team. It sucked because most of our team wasn’t really good. I mean, they weren’t horrible or nothin but they weren’t as good as me or Joe. That is except for Justin but that’s just because he was so goddam tall. He was the only White kid in our neighborhood, except for Drew but nobody liked him anyway.

We had finished our fourth game. I was walking over to the bleachers next to Joe to get my bottle of water when Keisha walked up to us. She had on one of those really long sweaters with the wide collars that girls used to wear in the 90s.

She sorta brushed her hair outta her face and said, “Hey Joe,” as she walked by him. You could tell by the naps in her kitchen that Keisha’s mother or whoever had her hair permed when she was real little. It kinda makes me sad sometimes, when I see little girls with their hair straightened. If I ever had a little girl I wouldn’t let her mom perm her hair. It looks better when it’s natural if you ask me.

Joe just sorta nodded at her and then she turned to me with this big smile creeping across her face and she said, “Hi Daniel,” real slow like. She giggled in that cute way that girls do when they’re talkin to boys they like. To be honest I kinda liked Keisha too. She was closer to my age than Naomi but she acted like too much of a little kid sometimes. I wanted someone who acted more grown.

I said, “What up?” and she goes, “Nye wanted me to come talk to you.”

I looked at Joe and this smirk came across his face.

“Talk to me?” I asked, “bout what?”

Keisha put her hands behind her back and started turning her shoulders from side to side in that really childish way as she stared at the ground and said, “She wants to braid your hair for you?”

I tried to keep from smiling as I said, “uh…o…okay. What time?”

She looked up at me with this face like I was stupid for asking and she said, “Now! Watchu mean what time?”

And I said, “But we’re playin ball right now.”

Keisha rolled her eyes and groaned in that way that girls do when they wanna let you know how dumb you are.

Joe punched me in the arm and mumbled, “Watchu doin, man?”

“What?” I said, “We’re two for two right now.”

Joe groaned, “Aww, pinche idiota!” then he turned to Keisha and said, “Hey, chica, tell Nye Daniel’s gonna be there in about twenty minutes, comprende.”

“Whatever. You do know where her place is dontchu?”

I said, “Yeah,” and Joe leaned over to me and whispered, “everybody knows where her place is.”

“Shut up!” I said as I elbowed Joseph in the ribs.

Keisha rolled her eyes again and said, “Ugh, jus remember it’s apartment six, okay.”

“Number six, got it.”

Keisha started to walk away and said, “Alright, I’ll go tell er. You betta not make her wait neither.”

When Keisha was out of earshot, Joe put his arm around my neck and said, “Ya see, wey? Didn’t I tell you it’d work? That’s why I’m a genius.”

I laughed and said, “Yeah, cept when it comes to playin ball,” as I ran back to the court.

OUR LAST GAME WAS OVER. Joe and them beat our team by three points, but that’s only because Justin got elbowed in the balls early on in the game and started throwing up. It was really horrible; he said it felt like they got knocked into his chest. Poor kid. After the game me and Joe started walkin down the street towards Naomi’s house. Joseph, bein the relationship expert that he was, started to tell me all of the shit I should and shouldn’t say when I get to Nye’s place. He said it was like a first date when I got there and the most I should hope for was a kiss on the cheek or something. That was cool with me. I didn’t really expect much more than that, to be honest.

We got to the intersection where Joe would have to go in the other direction.

As we reached the end of the street Joe goes, “And most of all, don’t let er see your boner.”

I got all embarrassed and said, “Keep yer voice down, man!”

Joe laughs and goes, “¿Por qué, it’s jus us here?”

“I don want nobody to know what we’re talkin about.”

“Man, quit actin scary. It aint nuthin to be ashamed of. Nye’s been givin me a boner every time I seen her since I was like eight.”

I had to laugh at that. Joe’s always sayin crazy shit like that.

He pulled the lighter and the pack of cigarettes outta his pocket and began to light one of them as he said, “You think I’m playin. All she’s gotta do is say ‘what up, Joe’ and I pitch a tent on the spot. I swear to God I do.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

Joe breathed in his cigarette and let a small cloud of smoke float out from his lips.

He said, “I’m gonna make a perfect smoke ring one a these days.”

Then he turned his head to the side and spit on the post of the street sign and said, “But anyway, go ahead and get that shit, wey. Jus remember what I said.”

Joe held his fist out to me. I gave him a pound and we parted ways.

As I walked alone down the sidewalk, I pictured what it would be like to sit between Nye’s legs while she braided my hair, her breasts just a few inches above my head. Nye was the first of all the girls to develop breasts and all the guys, young and old, took notice. Sometimes we’d roughhouse in the street in front of her place, have boxing matches and playing street hockey and shit like that all in hopes that she’d look out her window and notice us. Come to think of it, I don’t think her apartment was even facing the street.

With that thought in mind I decided to take off my t-shirt and walk in there wearing just my black wife-beater. I didn’t have a whole lot to show off at that age, but what little I had was all muscle. Probably the result of those couple of weeks I spent living on the street. It was unusually warm for November, probably due to all the smog. And on top of that I had also been playing basketball all day so I could use that as an excuse for not having a shirt on. I reached the place. Naomi lived in one of those old Victorian style row houses that had been converted into an apartment building. It was green and the paint was peeling around the gutters and the windows. I walked up on the stoop and pressed the button next to the gold colored 6 on the buzzer next to the mailboxes.

A staticky voice replied, “yeees?” all sly sounding the way girls do.

I was kinda nervous. My voice seemed a little shaky when I answered, “Uh…um it’s me.”

“Me? Me who?”

“Daniel.”

“Oh! Wait a sec, I’ll be right down.”

I DID AS I WAS TOLD and took a seat on the stone stoop and waited. She took longer than I would’ve expected, but girls always do that shit just to mess with you. I looked up when I heard the door being unlocked. The screen door opened and there she was. I thought about saying something about her taking so long but I decided it’d be better if I didn’t. I felt something like the tobacco rush you get right after you take the first puff of a Black and Mild when she smiled at me and brushed that silky long hair of hers outta her eyes. She was a goddess, a goddess with ash colored eyes. I was sure she was Latina or possibly mixed like me. I figured it must’ve been hot up in her room because the setting sunlight was glistening off the sweat of her olive colored skin.

She laughed and said, “You gonna stand there all day or you comin in?”

That made me feel pretty stupid. I threw my shirt over my shoulder and followed her inside. As we walked through the place she told me all about the house and how it used to belong to some rich banker or something a long time ago. Made sense; a lotta the buildings in that part of town seemed to belong to rich White people from a hundred years ago. I followed her up the stairs while she was sayin something about The Great Gatsby. Idon’t know, I wasn’t really paying attention. Too busy watching those ass cheeks bouncin up and down in those pink shorts of hers. I could feel myself start to tense up if you know what I mean. I had to think of something to make myself go back down before she noticed. I thought about the Thundercats cartoon, but that didn’t work because every time I thought about that show I’d remember Cheetara and that skimpy outfit she always wore. God, I thought to myself, what the hell’s wrong with me?

“Did you ever read that book?” Naomi asked.

I covered myself with my hands as quick as I could as I answered, “uh…what?”

I thank’d God she didn’t turn around.

“The Great Gatsby, you ever read it?”

“Uh…n-no…I don’t think so. What’s it about?”

She started running her mouth again, “Well it’s about this guy named Nick Carraway who moves to New York to…”

That’s about when I quit listening to her and tried to think of more ways to get rid of my hard on. Come on Daniel, think! Okay, cool shit. Sonic the Hedgehog, Transformers, Optimus Prime…uh…Thor smashin some guy’s head with a hammer. Yeah that works. We good? No? More violent shit! Dead kittens, no, dead puppies. Drowning puppies…uh…a burning building…a burning orphanage full of kids…

“…but it turned out that Gatsby was really in love with Daisy from when he was in the army…”

…The army…Ninja Turtles. Leonardo, Donatello, Shredder, Master Splinter. Sword fighting! Damn, not that kinda sword fighting! What’s that old kung-fu flick you and Josh used to watch all the time? Zatoichi? Yeah, the blind swordsman slicing a samurai up the middle…

“…and then Daisy runs Myrtle down with Gatsby’s car and…”

…robots with knives, Terminators, Arnold Schwarzenegger versus….uh…versus…The Predator! Yeah predators…aliens…face-huggers…eyeless monsters bursting outta guy’s chest on a spaceship! What else? Ugly lunch-ladies with hairy legs. There we go.

Nye turned around and said, “Are you okay?”

I looked up and said, “Huh? Uh…yeah, why?” God, you’re so beautiful.

“You’re so quiet. I feel stupid, jus talkin by myself.”

“Oh I…I was jus listening, you know,” I cleared my throat even though I didn’t really have to, “That sounds like a good book. I’ll have to read it some time.” I still haven’t read that damn book.

We were in front of her apartment. When she opened the door, I expected to see all of her little girlfriends in there but the place was empty, I mean literally empty. I felt bad for her. We were standing in the living room which had little more than an old couch, a small color TV on a black metal stand and a small framed picture of the Virgin Mother with golden rays of light radiating from her around her head. The Virgin Mother’s face looked so serene. I felt like if she was there in real life, I could cry in her lap and tell her about all the bad shit that happened to me and she’d just smile and rub my forehead and whisper, “Shhh. Everything’s going to be okay, I promise,” til I fell asleep.

Naomi said, “Go ahead and sit down,” as she walked over to the couch.

I said, “Where’s everybody else?” as I sat down on the floor in front of the couch.

“It’s just us. Oh wait, you mean where’s Trish?”

“Who?”

“Trisha, she’s my guardian. She ain’t never here. She always stays at her boyfriends, jus drops in every once in a while. You prolly won’t see her today.”

I said, “Uh okay.”

She pulled my head close to her and handed me the remote.

“Here,” she said, “You can watch whatever you want.”

I started flipping through channels, but my mind was with her fingers running through my fro. I started to tense up again, but I was sitting with my knees up so she wouldn’t be able to tell anyway.

She patted the top of my fro and said, “How long’ve you been growin it out?”

I said, “I dunno,” as I flipped through the staticky channels, “I guess, since I got here.”

It wasn’t til then that I realized I hadn’t cut my hair since about two weeks before I ran away from home. I thought about getting a flattop but Joe talked me out of it. A lotta the boys in our neighborhood had flattops back then. My guy Mosley had one and every time he walked past us we’d slap him on the back of his head where it tapered. He really hated that shit. I thought about telling Naomi about Mos’ flattop, but I figured she’d just think it was stupid.

She started braiding the first row over my right ear. It was the first time I’d ever had cornrows so I wasn’t used to the soreness. But I put up with it by thinking about those beautiful “taw-taws” above my head. I was tensed up for a straight hour before it went back down again. After a while I started to calm down and she and I just talked. We talked about any old random thing from sports to books she’d read to movies we liked. She liked the Jetson’s Movie, but I never saw it before. I told her I always liked The Brave Little Toaster, but she said it was “too childish” or something stupid like that. But then we both agreed that Fievel Goes West was about the greatest movie ever made, so it was cool. I always felt kinda awkward talking to girls, they either had no idea what the fuck I was talking about or the words would get messed up before I could get them out. But it wasn’t like that with Naomi. I just talked instead of having to stop and think about what I was saying all the time. But then again maybe that’s just cuz she was older than me, who knows.

When she was about halfway finished braiding my hair, she reached down to grab the remote next to me. I caught a glimpse of her hand as she picked it up. She had a really thin scar on her inner wrist running vertical with her arm. I thought it was strange because the scar was so perfect and thin, but I never said anything. For the next couple of hours I was trying to sneak a peek at her other arm to see if she had a scar on that one too. Sure enough, there it was, right underneath her bracelet with the pink plastic beads. I decided that I’d ask her about it later on when we knew each other better.

Less than two hours later she was finished. She held this little plastic mirror in front of me so I could see the fresh new cornbraids.

“Watchu think?” she asked.

I started rubbing my palms across my head. My scalp was aching like crazy and itching pretty bad too. But I had to admit the braids looked nice.

“It’s cool,” I said.

“I thought you’d look cute with braids.”

That kinda made me feel embarrassed but I liked it when she talked about me like that. We still sat there and talked for a little bit even though she was finished. I didn’t wanna get up and I suspected she didn’t either. After a while we just sat there for a little bit, not saying anything. I hate that shit, when you’re both quiet and it gets all awkward and shit. You both know that the next thing y’all say is just to break the silence but you gotta say something anyway. Everybody knows you gotta break the awkward silence if you wanna survive.

I was tryin to think of something to say that wouldn’t sound dumb as hell when she said, “Why don’t you ever smile?”

That caught me off guard but my reply was a desperate, “I smile sometimes.”

She said, “Not very often. You always look like you’re either sad or really angry bout somethin.”

Then I go, “Well I…I mean, I’m not doin it on purpose.”

“That’s why you need to smile, so you don’t look so sad all the time.”

“I’d look stupid if I went around smiling all the time.”

She pulled my head back so I was looking up at her face upside down. She had this really loving smile on her face when she said, “Smile for me, right now.”

I couldn’t help but do what she said. Even upside down her face was sweeter than a plate of yams with extra syrup.

“You see,” she said, “you got a nice smile and your eyes too…”

“What about them?” I asked.

“You got pretty eyes.”

There’s that word again. I hate it when girls do that. Ladies, don’t ever use the word “pretty” when you’re talkin about your man. You have no idea how weirded out we get by it. It annoys the hell outta me whenever I hear a girl saying that about me.

We sat like that for a moment. Me with my head all bent up backwards staring at her gorgeous face and her just looking down at me all soft and happy like. Then her smile started to fade a little as she stared into my eyes and I started to think that something was wrong. Before I could ask what’s wrong she leaned forward and kissed me right in the middle of my forehead. I closed my eyes and she kissed each of my eyelids, then the tip of my nose. I was glad I brushed my teeth that morning because next she kissed me on my lips. I thought I was the luckiest kid in the world because I got Naomi to kiss me on our first “date”.

Part 2: topic61119.html