Role-Play

young-african-woman-with-red-turban-over-gray-background

My name is Ezra and I’m an Angolan woman married to Francisco, a Portuguese businessman.  We have been married for ten years.  We have two children, a boy named Bento and a girl named Mafalda.  We live in Luanda.  During the week, I’m at home alone because Rodrigo is at the office and the children are in school.  I’m a housewife and I love it.  I love taking care of my family.

From the time I was seven years old, I knew that I wanted to be a homemaker when I was older.  My mother, God bless her soul, was my inspiration.  I watched her work tirelessly and happily to take care of the home, my father, my siblings and me.  When I was old enough, I helped around the house.  She taught me how to cook and keep a clean house.  She told me that one day I would be a wife and it was best to start learning how to do things as early as possible.  Sadly, she didn’t live to see me get married or hold her grandchildren.  My father and my siblings were at my wedding.  They were happy for me and warmly welcomed Rodrigo into the family.  They weren’t upset that I married a European man instead of an African man.

Rodrigo and I met when I was working as a cook at a restaurant owned by a family friend.  He came in there one day to have lunch with a client.  After having my Fish Calulu, he wanted to meet me to personally compliment me on the dish.  Feeling a little self-conscious after being in the hot kitchen all morning and not having enough time to fix myself up, I went into the dining-room.  He stood up as I approached.  He was tall and very attractive in his expensive looking grey suit.  I was immediately attracted to him.  He smiled and said in Portuguese, “I wanted to personally tell how much I enjoyed the Fish Calulu.  It’s the best I’ve ever had.”

I smiled shyly.  “Thank you.”

His client had left so we were alone.  “My name is Rodrigo,” he said, extending his large hand.  I looked at it before placing my hand in it.  The long fingers closed over mine in a firm handshake.

“I’m Ezra.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ezra.  I wonder if you would like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?”

I gulped.  He was asking me out on a date.  I could hardly believe it.  It took a moment for me to say, “Yes.”

“Good.  I’ll meet you here at eight.  “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”  I watched him leave and then returned to the kitchen.

The following night we went for dinner at a popular Portuguese restaurant.  Afterwards, we went for a drive.  We saw each other regularly after that and the following year, we got married.  I quit my job at the restaurant after learning that I was pregnant with Bento.

Life with Rodrigo ideal.  Our sex life is amazing  and sometimes, we indulge in role play which add a little spice to the marriage.  Lately, I have been dressing up as a slave girl while he pretends to be my slave master.   But this is happening way too often.  He wants to do it for every lovemaking session.

Last night, he pulled my dress down about my waist and turned me around so that my bare back was to him and had me hug the bedpost.  He got the whip he had bought from one of those sex stores and started to use it on me.  It didn’t hurt but Rodrigo wanted me to pretend that it did.  When he was done, he dragged the dress off and threw me down on the bed.  I lay there while he ravaged me, staring up at the ceiling and wondering if this nightmare would ever end.  What had started out as harmless fun had become something I dreaded and desperately wanted to stop.  I wanted to be his wife and lover again not his slave.

I’m sitting here in the kitchen, staring out at the window.  I have made up my mind to tell Rodrigo that I’m not going to be his slave in the bedroom anymore.  And if he cares about me and our marriage, he will respect my wishes.  Worst case scenario, I will pack up and leave.  And of course, take Bento and Mafalda with me.

Hours later, I’m in the bedroom and Rodrigo walks after taking a long, hot shower.  He’s stark naked and by the looks of him, he’s in the mood.  I’m standing by the bed, wearing one of my nightgowns.  The slave girl garb was tossed in the garbage along with the whip.  I was very determined not to subject myself to that again.  Before he could say anything, I said, “Rodrigo, I’m Ezra, your wife, not your slave girl.  I don’t ever want to play that role again.  I didn’t mind doing it the first few times but you want to do it every time and it’s no longer fun for me.  It has become degrading.  I refuse to do it any more.”

topless male

Rodrigo stared at me.  Silence filled the room and I found myself holding my breath as I waited for him to say something.  He came over to me and putting his hands on my shoulders, he said as his eyes met mine.  “Me desculpe, querida.  I’m sorry.  I should have realized that this particular type of role playing would affect you.  It was very insensitive of me.  Please forgive me.”

Relief washed over me like a tidal wave and I hugged him around the waist and buried my face in his chest.   He will never know how close I came to leaving him if he had not respected my wishes.

Role-play in marriages is healthy and exciting but make sure that both of you are having fun. Never indulge in role-play which will demean or devalue either of you.

Love Lives On/Tranquil #writephoto

tranquil

Photo by Sue Vincent

I stood there in the secluded spot and tranquil place where we used to meet.  It was our secret place where we could love each other freely.  Back there it was against the law for a white man and a black woman to have relations.  Race mixing as they called it was banned.  The punishment for interracial marriage to be a year in jail and the white person was fined $100 fine.  The person who officiated an interracial wedding was fined $200.  How I hated those laws.  They were passed by ignorant and racist people who couldn’t accept that people of different races could fall in love with each other.

My parents were just as intolerant.  They believed that people should stick to their own kind–you know, to keep the races pure.  They even used the Bible to validate their racist views.  I read the Bible myself and nowhere did it prohibit interracial love.  In fact, there were examples of mixed marriages.  I hated going to a school where blacks weren’t allowed and even church which was to be the temple of the God who created all races, blacks weren’t allowed to worship with us.  I hated living in a state that was so intolerant.  I promised myself that I would leave it as soon as I was old enough.

My parents made sure that I went to the best schools and associated only with those whom they deemed to be socially acceptable–the filthy rich.  They even had it in their heads that one day I would marry Governor Brown’s daughter, Virginia (I can’t believe her parents named her after the state).  Granted, she was a nice girl, very pretty and I could tell that she liked me very much.  We went on dates and such and then, I went away to university.  It was an understanding that we were going steady and that in due time, I would propose.

When I returned from university one summer vacation, my mother told me that we had a new maid, Flora.  The previous one, Berta had been fired.  My parents never told me what happened but I was sore because I really liked Berta.  Well, when I met Flora, I quickly forgot about Berta.  She was much younger than Berta but about ten years older than me.  Flora wasn’t pretty like Virginia but she was very attractive.  She had big brown eyes that didn’t seem to miss a thing, smooth dark skin and a lovely voice.  Sometimes she would sing as she worked.

Once I asked her why didn’t she become a professional singer.  She scoffed and said, “The only thing white folks want colored people like me to do is cook, clean, do the laundry and keep my place.”

Flora had a room built at the back of the house where she would change into her uniform and use the bathroom.  She had special plates and forks to use for her meals.  She was paid $10 a week which in that time was considered good money.

Flora was a bit cynical and who could blame her?  Although she is well paid, she is treated with disrespect and condescension by my parents, relatives and family friends.  There are times when I sit at the dining table and seethe with rage.  The final straw came when Flora accidentally spilled a glass of wine and some of it got on Mrs. Miller, an insufferable and vain woman.  She rose to her feet and struck Flora hard across the face.  “You clumsy n—–,” she cried.  “You’ve ruined my dress.  It’s too bad you can’t be whipped for this.”

My mother didn’t bat an eye.  I couldn’t believe that she wasn’t livid that one of her guests had slapped Flora.  I guess I was foolish to expect her to say something in Flora’s defense.  Instead, she said to her crossly, “Clean that mess up.”

Flora quickly left the room and was back in a seconds to clean the spill.  I wanted to go after her but propriety made me stay put.  I promised myself that I would speak to her before she left this evening.”

“You should fire her, Rosemary,” Mrs. Miller said as she resumed her seat.

“It was an accident!” I said as calmly as I could although, what I really wanted to do was throw the rest of the wine in her sanctimonious face.

“You mind your manners, Boy,” my father scolded.

“You’re excused,” was my mother’s rejoinder.

“Excuse me,” I said as I rose to my feet.  I was happy to leave the table.

I headed straight for the kitchen where Flora was busy washing up the dishes.   I wanted to help but I knew that she wouldn’t let me.  Besides, it would get her into trouble.  I went and stood beside her.  I could see that she had been crying.  I wanted to hug her.  “I’m sorry about what happened just now, Flora,” I said quietly.  “Mrs. Miller had no right to hit you.  You’re a grown woman, not a child.”

“You heard what she called me.  That gives her the right to hit me.”

“Flora, sometimes, I wish I could take you away from all of this.”

“You shouldn’t be saying such things, Master Oliver.”

“But, it’s true, Flora.”

“And where would we go?”

“I don’t know yet but some place where you’re treated better.”

“Right now I can’t think of any place like that except Heaven.”

“Flora, after I graduate from university, I’m going to leave Richmond.  I want you to come with me.”

“Master Oliver, stop talking foolish.”

“Stop calling me Master Oliver,” I retorted.  “I’m just plain Oliver and I’m not talking foolish.  I’m very serious, Flora.”

“I’ll think about it now, go before your mother comes in here and finds us together.”

“All right. I’ll go.  Goodnight, Flora.”

“Goodnight, Mas–Oliver.”

The next morning, she was gone.  My mother had taken Mrs. Miller advice and fired Flora.  I was so upset that I didn’t speak to my mother for weeks.  I found out where Flora lived and the first opportunity, I had, I went to see her.  She was alone.  After I letting her know how upset and furious I was that she had lost her job, I made her promise to meet me that afternoon at the pond where no one ever goes.

I got there first and waited.  As I waited, I picked a bunch of wildflowers I saw there.  Flora would like them.  I bet she never got flowers from anyone before.  I would be the first.  I smiled at the thought.  She showed up five minutes later.  I gave her the flowers and she took them, smiling.  She smelled them.  “Thank you,” she said.  She reached up and kissed me on the cheek.

I felt my face get hot.  I also felt strange sensations in my body.  “You’re welcome, Flora,” I said.

We sat down on the grass and talked and talked.  I loved being with her and I could tell she felt the same way.  We promised to meet there again tomorrow.  She left first and then I left several minutes after.  When I went home, my mother told me that Virginia and her parents were having dinner with us that evening.  It would be the first time I would be seeing Virginia since I’ve been home for the summer.  I was more excited about seeing Flora tomorrow than seeing Virginia that evening.

The evening went well, I suppose.  Virginia didn’t seem to notice that I was preoccupied with my thoughts.  She talked mostly about herself and what she had been up to while I was away at university.  I didn’t make any plans to see her again.  After we parted company, I went up to my room where I remained until the following morning.  As soon as the afternoon came, I was racing down to the pond.  This time Flora was waiting for me.  And she brought two huge slices of an apple pie she had baked.  After we ate them, we went for a swim.

Afterwards, we lay in the sun.  We talked about different things and then, I rolled onto my side and looked down at her.  She had her eyes closed.  The strange sensations stir inside me again and this time, I lowered my head and kissed her.  She didn’t push me away or slap me in the face.  Instead, she reached up and put her arms around my neck.  We ended up making love for the first time.

Day after day we met there in our secluded spot until one day we were discovered by Virginia’s brother and his friends.  I was promptly sent back to Atlanta where I spent the rest of the summer until it was time to return to university.  I don’t know what happened to Flora.  No one would tell me anything.  I was devastated because I was madly in love with her.  I wanted to marry her.

When I returned to Virginia, I went to her house.  At that point I didn’t care what people said or did or thought.  All I wanted was to see Flora.  However, when I went to her house, the neighbors said that she was gone.  They had no idea where she had gone.

Dejected, I returned to Atlanta where I tried to forget about her.  I even got married to a nice girl named Amy and we had a boy.  Time passed but the memories of my summer with Flora never faded.  I still yearned to see her.  I still loved her and no amount of time would make me forget about her.

After Amy died, I tried to see if I could find out any information about Flora.  I wish I had a photo of her that I could have put on Facebook but I didn’t.  In spite of these setbacks and disappointments, I haven’t stopped hoping that one day I will see her again.

It’s 2018 and summer again here in Richmond.  I’m here by the pond, allowing myself to relive the happiest memories of my entire life.  I look at the wild flowers and smile.  I will never forget the spark in Flora’s beautiful eyes when I gave them to her.  If she were here now, I would give her another bunch.

“Mr. Jones?” a voice called out and startled, I turned.

It was a young African American girl.  “Yes,” I replied.  “I’m Mr. Jones.  Who are you?”

She came closer.  “I’m Regina.  I was told that I might find you here.  Someone asked me to give this to you.”  She held out a letter sized brown envelope.”

I took it.  It didn’t have any address.  It only had my name written neatly at the front.  “Who asked you to give this to me?”

“My grandmother, Flora.”

My heart caught in my throat.  Flora.  I sat down on the tuft of grass and eagerly opened the envelope.  I pulled out a letter and some photos.  I looked at the photos first.  They were of Flora and a lovely little girl.  She looked so much like Flora but much fairer in complexion.

With trembling fingers, I unfolded the letter and read it.  Halfway through, I started to cry.  Flora was pregnant when she left Richmond.  She wanted me to know about Olivia and wrote to me at the university several times but all of her letters were returned.  She never got married, she said because there was only one man whose wife she wanted to be.

I looked up at Regina who was standing beside me.  “Where’s Flora?” I asked.  I longed to see her.

“I’m sorry, grandfather, but she died this morning.”

I broke down at that point.  Regina dropped to her knees and put her arms around me.  The only thing that gave me any comfort was the knowledge that Flora and I have a daughter and a granddaughter.  Our love will live on through them and generations to come.

Those we love are never really lost to us–for everywhere their special love lives on – Amanda Bradley

This was written for the #writephoto Prompt – Tranquil at Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo.

 

Sources: The Washington Post; The Post and Courier

 

 

 

 

Addie’s Little Adventure/Invitation #writephoto

portal

Photo by Sue Vincent

Everyday after school, I took a shortcut so that I would walk past the mansion where the English couple lived. And every time I paused to peek through the gates which were always ajar and stare at the strange faces on the posts. Behind and above the gates was foliage which swayed from the gentle summer breeze. Mama used to work there before the Mistress fired her. She accused Mama of stealing. Mama denied it, of course. Mama said that the Mistress didn’t like her because she was black. The Master was away when Mama got fired. The Mistress told her that if she showed her face at the mansion again, she would report her to the police.

Mama was sorry to lose the job because it helped to take care of my sister and me but she didn’t have a choice. For months she couldn’t find a job because the Mistress refused to give her a reference but the Master gave her one. Mama said that he was always very kind to her. That’s why I’m fixing to meet him so I could thank him for being good to my Mama.

The gates were ajar. After glancing around me to make sure that no one was around, I pulled it open so that it was wide enough for me to pass through. I pushed it in behind me. I looked around me. I felt like Alice in Wonderland. The grounds stretched endlessly in all directions. They looked like a giant green lush carpet rolled out. The sweet smell of roses and bougainvillea filled the air as I walked between them, my heart racing. I was on private property. I could get into trouble for trespassing. What if someone caught me and took me to the Mistress. That thought alone stopped me in my tracks. Maybe coming here wasn’t such a good idea. I’d better get out of here NOW.

I turned and started to head back to the gate when I heard a man’s voice behind me. I froze. I was afraid to turn around. I stood there. I don’t know for how long before he came and stood in front of me. He was tall and very attractive with black hair and grey eyes. He was dressed as if he had been out riding. For some insane reason, he reminded me of Mr. Willoughby from Sense and Sensibility. His gaze narrowed as he studied me.

“Have we met before?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No.”

“You look familiar.”

“I’m—I’m Mabel Brown’s daughter, Addie.”

His expression brightened. “That’s why you look so familiar. How is your mother?”

“She’s doing well. She got another job.”

“I’m happy to hear that. I was sorry to lose her.”

“That’s why I came here. I wanted to thank you for giving Mama a reference.”

“It was the least I could do after what my ex-wife did.”

“Your ex-wife?”

“Yes. We’re no longer married.”

“Is it because she fired Mama?”

“It was the last straw.”

“I’m glad she’s no longer here. I was afraid that if I got caught I would have to face her.”

“You don’t have to worry about her anymore, Addie.”

“Is she back in England?”

“Yes. Are you in a hurry to leave?”
I shook my head. “I was but I’m not anymore.”

“How would you like a tour of the grounds?”

My face brightened. “I’d like that very much.”

He smiled. “Come along then. You came all this way to thank me. The least I can do is to show you around.”

As we walked, my eyes drinking in my surroundings, I thought of Mama and what she would say if she were to see me now, walking on the grounds of the fine mansion where she used to work. She was right about her former employer. He was a really nice man not to mention, very attractive. I was happy that he was no longer married and it wasn’t only because I disliked his ex-wife. Stop filling your head with romantic notions. He’s a grown man. He’s not going to be interested in a school girl.

“How old are you?”

We were standing by the fountain and I was watching the water as it cascaded when he asked the question. I turned and faced him. “Seventeen.”

“I’m twice your age.”

“You look much younger.”

He smiled. “I have my father to thank for that. He too appeared to be much younger than he was.”

“Are your parents still alive?”

“Yes. They are living in Marseilles where my mother was born. Are you dating anyone?”

I shook my head. “I’m not interested in any of the boys at school.”

My answer seemed to please him. “If I didn’t have to attend to business now, I would invite you to stay and have tea with me. Are you free tomorrow afternoon, say around the same time?”

Heart racing with excitement, I nodded eagerly. “Yes, I’m free tomorrow.”

He smiled. He had such an amazing smile. It made his eyes twinkle and my stomach flutter. “Good. Tomorrow afternoon, then.”

We walked back to the gate. As we stood there facing each other, I held out my hand. “Thank you for the tour.”

“You’re welcome, Addie.” He shook my hand and when he released it, I could still feel where his fingers had been. The skin tingled. “I’ll be waiting here for you tomorrow afternoon. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.” I waved before I turned and walked away. Halfway down the street, I realized that I didn’t even know his name. Not to worry. I’ll find out tomorrow.

 

This was written for the #writephoto Prompt – Invitation at Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo.

Life’s Surprises and Unspeakable Joy

It’s lunch break at school and as I was walking down the hallway heading towards the cafeteria, Colton texted me.  He wanted me to have dinner at his place tonight.  Excited, I texted him back.   Things were really heating up between us.

Last night after we left the ice rink, we went back to his place and as soon as we went inside, we were all over each other, kissing and pulling off each other’s clothes.  We ended up making love on the rug in front of the fireplace.  Afterwards, we ordered take in Thai food and ate it while watching a movie.  Then, he took me home.

I guess it was inevitable that I should fall madly in love with Colton.  Actually, I think I fell for him since the first time we met which was at a party celebrating Lance’s 18th birthday.  Colton was there with Heather, his then girlfriend, a very pretty blonde.  The moment I saw him, I couldn’t take my eyes off him.  Several times, he caught me staring at him and smiled.  Then, just before the cutting of the cake, when I was coming out of the bathroom, he was coming down the hallway.  He walked over and stood right in front of me, towering over me.  I looked up at him, thinking that he was the most gorgeous man I had ever seen in my life.  My heart was beating like crazy.  We were totally alone.  Everyone was in the dining-room, gathered around the table.

“So, are you Lance’s girlfriend?” he asked.

I shook my head at once.  “No, we’re just friends.”

He smiled. “Good. I’m glad to hear that. If you’re not busy tomorrow afternoon, I’d like to take you bowling and then for a bite to eat afterwards.”

I was so blown away by the fact that he was asking me out that I didn’t even think of asking him about his girlfriend.  I found out a couple days after that he had broken up with her.

“I’m not busy tomorrow,” I assured him breathlessly.  “And I’d love to go bowling.”  Actually, I have never been bowling but have heard lots of positive things about it.  And it’s on several lists of perfect first date ideas.

“Where do you live?”

I told him.

“I’ll pick you up at five-thirty.”

“Okay.”

“See you tomorrow.”  And then he was gone.  I stayed there for several minutes, leaning against the door, trying to settle my nerves.  I couldn’t believe that Lance’s brother had just asked me out.  The rest of the evening was a blur for me.  I couldn’t sleep that night because I was too excited.  Colton showed up at exactly five-thirty, looking sexy in his white shirt and jeans.  I saw the way he looked at me and I felt tingly all over.  I had my hair pulled back in a ponytail and was wearing a red top with jeans.  We talked a lot on the way to the bowling alley and had so much fun.

Afterwards, we went to an Italian eatery and enjoyed mouth watering pasta dishes.  He didn’t take me home right after.  We went for a drive along the coast, stopped to admire the view of the Bay for a little while and then he took me home.  Outside on the porch, he asked me out on another date which I promptly accepted.

On Monday when I saw Lance at school, I was bursting with excitement.  We were standing by the lockers when I told him about Colton.  He didn’t seem to mind at all, although I couldn’t see why he should.  That was what we were talking about when those girls saw us and went berserk.

After Lance and I parted company, they ascended on me like a swarm of bees and made all sorts of crude and racist remarks which I ignored.  I didn’t get into anything with them.  I was above that.  Instead, I walked away with my head held high.  One of them said that there was no way that Lance would be into me because I was an ugly girl with glasses.  Hmmph.  Well, there was no way that he would be into her because she was hateful.

I didn’t let their remarks ruin my day.  I had a date with Colton that evening and was looking forward to it.  It was on our fourth date that we made love for the first time.  After we went to a concert in the park, we went back to his place.  He made hamburgers which we ate on the terrace while we watched the sun set.  Then, after finishing our Red and Blue Berry Lemonade Slushes, we went inside.

Without saying anything, he took my hand and led me to his bedroom. After closing the door, he began to kiss me.  I put my arms around his neck and kissed him back.  The kisses soon became very intense and the next thing I knew, we were naked, our clothes strewn on the floor.  He backed me over to the bed, pushed me down gently and then got on top of me.  His mouth covered mine the same instant he took me.  I cried out because of the pain but it soon went away and all I could feel then was intense and mind-blowing pleasure.  I will never forget my first experience.

Last week Saturday my parents went out of town to spend the weekend with my sister and her family.  I called Colton and invited him to come over.  He came over in the evening.  We had the dinner which my mother made earlier that day.  There was enough to feed an army.  We went for a drive, stopped for some ice-cream and then went back to the house.  We spent the evening watching television.  It was after mid-night when we went to bed.  We were in my room.  After we brushed, we slipped under the sheets and made love.  We fell asleep in each other’s arms.

The next morning, he was still sleeping when I woke up.  I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek but he didn’t stir.  He was a deep sleeper.  I got up and drew back the curtains for the sunlight to stream in.  I turned to look at him.  He looked so adorable and sexy, laying there on his left side with his hand resting on my side of the bed.  Unable to resist, I bent over and kissed him on his shoulder before   I went into the bathroom and took a quick shower.  I left a clean, folded towel for him to use on top of the wash basin before getting dressed and heading down to the kitchen to make breakfast.  We spent the day together and then he left late afternoon, a couple of hours before my parents got home.  It was the best weekend I had ever had.

As I sit down now at the table to have my lunch, I can’t help but reflect on our relationship.  We have been dating for half a year now.  For me it’s very serious because I’m so in love with him but I’m not sure if he feels the same way.  I know that he wants me.  I can see it on his face when he looks at me.  Just thinking about how much he wants me makes me tremble and feel warm all over.  I wish we were together right this very minute but I will just have to wait until later.

Thankfully, the day went by quickly and at a quarter to six, I was standing outside of his apartment and ringing the bell.  When he opened the door, my eyes eagerly drank every inch of him.  He looked incredible in the black shirt and jeans.  His hair was slightly damp as if he had just taken a shower.  One of my fantasies is to make love with him in the shower.  It was feeling a bit hot in the hallway all of a sudden.

“Hello,” he said with a smile before he reached down and kissed me hard on the mouth.  When he drew back, his face was slightly flushed.  “Come in.”

I stepped inside, my head spinning from that kiss.   A tantalizing smell assailed my nostrils.  “Something smells really great,” I exclaimed as I followed him through the foyer and into the living-room.

“It’s Crispy Lemon Pepper Chicken.  It’s one of my favorite dishes.”

“Do you need any help?”

“No, thanks.  Just relax in the living-room until everything is ready.”

While he was busy in the kitchen, she turned on the stereo and found a station where they played R&B.  Five minutes later, he was setting things down on the table in the dining-room.  He lit two candles.  He called me to have a seat at the table while he went and got our drinks which were Sparkling Pear Punch.  He sat down and smiling, he said, “Dig in.”

“This is delicious!  How did you learn how to cook like this? Did your mother teach you?  My mother taught me—is still teaching me.”

“No, I learned after I moved out and was living on my own.”

“Lance wasn’t kidding when he said that you’re a phenomenal cook.  He even said that you’re as good as or maybe even better than your mother.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Did you ever make dinner for your ex-girlfriend?”

“No.”

That made me feel really special and I smiled as I raised the glass to take a sip of the punch.

“Have you told your parents about me?”

“Yes, they’re dying to meet you.”

“I bet they are.  Do they know that there’s a considerable age difference between us?”

“Well, they know that you’re not a student.”

“Do they know that I’m white?”

“Yes and they don’t have a problem with that.”

“I’m relieved to hear that.  Jaleesa, there’s something I need to ask you after we finish having our dinner.”

“Okay.”  I wondered what it could be.  I didn’t have to wait very long to find out.  As soon as dinner was over and we were relaxing in the living-room, he turned to me, his expression very serious.

“We’ve been dating for a while now.  In a few months, it will be a year.”

I nodded, my heart beginning to beat faster as I had no idea where this was leading.  I hoped that it wasn’t a preamble for a breakup speech.

“I think it’s time for a change, Jaleesa.”  He reached into his back pocket and took out a small box.  I watched as he got down on his knee beside me.  My eyes popped open and my hand flew up to my mouth as he opened the box and revealed an exquisite diamond ring.  “I’m a bit nervous,” he admitted as he looked up at me.  “I-I’ve never done this before.”

I was almost beside myself with shock and excitement.  Tears were making him a big blur.  And the fact that he was nervous about proposing for the first time was very endearing.

“I love you, Jaleesa.  I fell in love with you the first time we met.  I noticed you the moment you walked into the living-room on the day we were celebrating Lance’s birthday.  Even though I was there with Heather, I couldn’t take my eyes off you.  And the first opportunity I got, I had to ask you out but before I did, I had to make sure that you weren’t Lance’s girlfriend.  Soon after you and I got together, I broke up with Heather.  I bought this ring weeks ago and have been dying to propose to you but couldn’t find the courage until now.  And even now, I’m nervous as hell.  Jaleesa, what I’m trying to say—to ask is, will you marry me?”

“Yes!” I was blubbering now and after he slid the finger on my finger, I held his face between my hands and kissed him.  He fell back on the carpet, pulling me down on top of him.  We ended up making love in front of the sofa and celebrated our engagement with non-alcoholic wine afterwards.

Yes, life was full of surprises and unspeakable joy.

Life’s Full of Surprises

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PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Yesterday at school a group of girls saw me talking with Lance and went berserk.  As soon as he left, they started in on me. “There’s no way he’s into you—an ugly girl with glasses.” “Maybe it’s jungle fever.” “Stick with your own.”

I wonder what they’d say if they knew that I was here on the top floor of this condo building making love with Colton, Lance’s gorgeous older brother.  They’d be green with envy.  He could have any woman he wants but he wants me–the “ugly” black girl with glasses.  Life’s full of surprises, isn’t it?

 

100 Words

This was written for the Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields For more details, visit Here.  To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit Here.

Emily/Snowfall #writephoto

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Photo by Sue Vincent

It was snowing.  It was the first snowfall on the season.  Emily raised her head and closed her eyes.  The flakes dropped like soft petals on to her face.  She smiled.  It was early in the morning.  In a couple of hours, classes would begin.  This was where she came every morning.  This was where they met.  She glanced at her watch.  He would be there in ten minutes.  Her heart skipped a beat at the thought.

While her family was still sleeping, she had slipped out of her room and come here.  The sneaking around, the clandestine meetings were so exciting.  She wondered what they would say if they only knew that she and Mr. Andrews, the headmaster were romantically involved with each other.  It began shortly after the new school year began.  She had transferred from another school.  Her mother wanted her to attend the same ivy league school she herself had been privileged to attend.

At first Emily was resentful and resistant because she was leaving all of her friends behind in London but when she met Mr. Andrews her outlook immediately changed.  He was a very agreeable, charming and attractive older man.  He looked to be in his late thirties, early forties.  He reminded her of the men she read about in Mills & Boon.  It wasn’t long before she started daydreaming about him.  And then, what a thrill it was to find out that her attraction for him was reciprocated.

She wondered what Mommy dearest would say if she only knew about Mr. Andrews.  A smile tugged at her mouth.  She would probably have one of her fits.  Mommy was such a drama queen, always overreacting to things and blowing things way out of proportion like the time when she found her and Edward in her room.  They hadn’t been up to any mischief.  Edward had kissed and she hadn’t resisted because she was curious to see what it was like to kiss and be kissed.  Of course, no amount of protestations and explanations could appease her enraged mother who threw Edward out of the house and warned him never to set foot there again.  And Emily was grounded for a month.  She was not allowed to go anywhere after school or on the weekends.  It was like being a prisoner on death row.  Her dislike and resentment for her mother increased.  They had never cared for each other.  Emily adored her father who indulged her while her mother favored her brother, William.

Her reverie was interrupted when she spotted Mr. Andrews heading towards her.  Heart racing, she waited anxiously for him to reach her.  When he did, they embraced and then they were kissing passionately.  When he drew back to gaze down into her flushed face, she said, “I’m late.”

He shook his head.  “No, you’re not.  School doesn’t start for another hour or so.  We have more than enough time.”

“No, I meant that my period is late.”

His expression changed at once.  “Do you think–?”

“I don’t know.  It’s possible that I could be or it could be nothing.”

“I hope and pray that you aren’t.”

“Would it be such a terrible thing if I were?”

“It wouldn’t be a good thing at all, Emily.”

“We could get married and–”

He released her then, his face darkening.  “No, we can’t,” he informed her tersely, startling her.

“Why not?” she asked, bewildered.

He shoved his fingers through his hair.  “Emily, I don’t know quite how to say this.  I can’t marry you because I’m engaged.”

The color drained from her face.  “Engaged?” she almost choked on the word.  “You’re engaged?”

“Yes.”

She fumbled for the tree and leaned heavily against it.  Her heart was aching now.  “To whom?”

“Julia Farnsworth.”

“When-when are you getting married?”

“In June.”

“When–when were you going to tell me?”

“I’ve wanted to tell you but couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“So, you were going to continue sleeping with me although you’re engaged to someone else.”

“Emily–” he tried to touch her but she pushed his hands away, the tears almost blinding her.

“I can’t believe that I was such a fool.  I thought you loved me.”

“I care very deeply for you.”

“I hate you!  And I hope that I’m not pregnant with your child.  I want nothing whatsoever to do with you any more.”  She stumbled away from the tree and ran as fast as she could across the snow covered ground.

Weeks later, her period arrived.  She requested to be transferred to another school which her father took care of, in spite of her mother’s vehement objections.  Emily’s father knew the reason behind the transfer.  He wanted to report Mr. Andrews but Emily asked him not to.  She never saw Mr. Andrews again.  She read about his nuptials online.  She didn’t hate him any more.  Besides, she had moved on. She was now dating a very nice boy whom she met at her new school.

This was written for the #writephoto Prompt – Imagination at Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo.

Let It All Go

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She watched the kids playing. Not so long ago, Michael was playing with them. He would have turned 11 on Friday. She recognized the kid whose father ran Michael down on his way home from school. Apparently, he was reaching for his cell when it happened.

He was serving time in prison but she was still angry. He killed her baby. Michael was all she had after his Dad died two years ago. Friends, family and coworkers urged her to move past her anger before it destroyed her. But, she just couldn’t do that.  Fighting back the fears, she turned away.

“Mrs. Thompson?”

She turned around. It was the man’s son. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry about Michael. He was my best friend.”

She didn’t answer.

“I know you’re still angry with my Dad. I was too.”

“How did you cope?”

“I asked God to help me.”

“How did he do that?”

“He showed me that being angry with Dad won’t bring Michael back.”

“What should I do with my anger?”

“Let it all go.”

“I’ll try.”

 

175 Words

This was written for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers hosted by Priceless Joy and Joe. For more information visit Here.  To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit Here.

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