Moment of Clarity

Life is calling. What role are you casting for?

Leading actor/actress --- A-Lister. Always delivers. Works until they get it down just right. Usually attractive, physically fit, charming.

Supporting actor/actress --- Talented but not always proven. Can’t quite carry the project, yet. Has the ability to steal the show. Attractiveness varies. Sometimes used for comic relief.

Cast member --- Gets in where they fit in. Just wants to be in the number. No one remembers their name. Just a face in the crowd.

Which one are you?

chance encounters 5

chance encounters pt. 1
chance encounters pt. 2
chance encounters pt. 3
chance encounters pt. 4

chance encounters 5

Since meeting Kayla I seemed to be unraveling like a braided cord under duress. Not only have I had eyes for her, but my overall defenses have been down. I’ve abandoned church altogether. I can’t stand being a hypocrite. I’ve also been overly responsive to other attractive women. So far restraint has allowed me to dodge the bullet of infidelity, but I sense myself spiraling towards the point of no return. It’s almost like I’m watching the actions of another man. Like it’s not me who’s doing any of this. I feel like I need to do something about it, but I feel helpless, like a sheep heading into slaughter.

***

Sometimes trouble is like a game of chicken. You find yourself face to face with it but for the simple fear of being called scared you avoid getting out of the way; you continue traveling head long into it knowing “this is a mistake.”

My thoughts kept coming around to that very conclusion while I took the twenty-minute drive to Kayla’s. I reasoned that I had already sinned in my mind, so carrying it out wouldn’t be a big deal. I’d just repent afterwards. It’s what everybody did.

***

As I made my way down the L shaped stairs toward her bedroom, I tried calming my nerves by taking a sip of the drink she had prepared for us. Grand Marnier and Orange Juice. The same drink we sipped on the night we met. She remembered. I liked that about her. She paid attention to me. Remembered things I told her in conversations and made me feel like what was going on in my life mattered. With Sheila I was just somebody to pay the bills, take out the trash, keep the cars clean and whatever other “man” stuff she had for me to do. We had become each other’s answer to duty. But it wasn’t like that with Kayla. The more I thought about it the firmer my decision became. I could do this. Hell, I deserved this! Besides, I was tired of putting up with Sheila’s benevolent vaginal offerings.

I knocked. A voice came from the opposite side, “Come in.” I should have taken another sip of my drink, because I wasn’t ready for the image that was waiting for me. There she was -- bent at the waist, legs straight, red thong smiling, as she strapped on her black heels while standing next to what appeared to be a pole.

“You got to be kidding me….a stripper pole,” I said clearly not hiding the surprise in my voice.
“I figured it would be fun.” She said with a smile “A way to take the tension out of the evening. I borrowed it from one of my girlfriends. You know Robin, the one I told you about with all the men. She takes a pole dancing class. I sat in on it a couple of times and learned a few moves.”

“Boy, I can’t wait to see those.”

“Well, I tell you what, you take a seat by the door there, enjoy your drink and let me do the rest.”

As she walked to the other side of the room my eyes helplessly followed. I hadn’t even undressed and this was better than anything Sheila and I had ever done. When we had sex it was good, but it was pretty well orchestrated, never a surprise. I could always tell when she was ready to have sex simply by the way she dressed for bed. We rarely did it when I wanted to. She controlled everything, just sucked the spontaneity right out of our sex life, which made this evening more of a treat.

“Well, you sure threw me off with the jazz you had playing.”

“I didn’t want you to think you were coming up in here to get raped. Although, I can’t wait to see what’s underneath all that clothing you have on.”

“That’s not a problem at all. As a matter of fact, I can lose some of it right now.”

“I have a better idea. Why don’t you let me start the music, dance a little for you and unwrap my present myself.”

That said she clicked the remote in her hand. The familiar chords of a keyboard begin to play as Prince’s Diamond and Pearls started our first act of the evening. I leaned back in my chair, took a sip and begin to drink Kayla in slowly. Her calculated movements towards me caused me to stiffen. I repositioned myself just in time for her to come and straddle my leg.

***

Button… Zipper… Pull…. Hot kisses. I’m buzzed. In between sets, we got blunted while I gave her some of my own foreplay. In return, baby girl has been swirling, spinning, sliding, nibbling and licking me into a frenzied heat. Somehow I’ve only managed to lose my shirt. “Not yet,” she keeps saying, her nakedness testing me as she grinds her body against mine amid the intoxicating sounds of pleasure. “I want to taste you.” She finally whispers. So eager to please, I begin removing my remaining clothing. With my strength finally free of restraint she takes me in her hand while looking down admiringly at her new prized possession. I smile knowing I’ve made good on my boasting, but the look in her eyes begins to change. I can’t quite make it out. Somehow delight has turned to horror. My awareness doesn’t fully set in until I feel the unforgiving metal pressed against the back of my ear. I hear the hammer pull back and set into place. “Make one false move and I’ll kill you dead,” came a voice smelling of cigarettes and two-day-old drunkenness. “Now get on over there on that bed….the both of you. I bet you didn’t think I’d find you did you Mae Francis?”

“Julius!? How the hell did you get in here?”

“You know this guy?” I said trying to figure out how I just went from screwing to getting seemingly screwed. This guy Julius didn’t seem like her type at all, and why was he calling her Mae Francis.

“Does she know me? How the hell you think she gone forget me, I’m her husband.”

“Her husband!” I said in disbelief, then turning my head to Kayla or whatever her name was I said, “ I thought you said you weren’t married.”

“No….I said….a husband is something I’ve never wanted.”

“Well look a here…..Mister Lover Man just found out you ain’t nothing but a lying ass ho. So you don’t want me eh? Is that why I caught you with your filthy hands around another man’s Johnson! I should of killed you when I had the chance. Now you got this son of a bitch in here, so I guess I got to kill the both of ya.”

“Umm, hey uhhh….This sounds like a private matter, I ain’t got nothing to do with this.” I didn’t want to leave old girl hanging, but this was some of her twisted chickens coming home to roost.

“Ohhh, you got everything to do with this Mister Lover Man. You and every filthy low life that’s running around just like you.” His blood shot eyes pierced me, no, stabbed me with the guilt that was impossible to deny. Our nakedness a testament to his every word. “The nerve of you sleeping with a married woman….my woman.”

“But I didn’t know she was married,” I pleaded.

“That still doesn’t excuse you because you’re married too.” He caught the look in my eyes having found me out. “Thought I didn’t know that, didn’t you? I saw you slipping your ring off in the car before you ran up in here. You shoulda drove your ass home to your own wife, now you got to pay too.”

I tried to find the words that would get me out of this mess. Something that would help me to get safely back home to Sheila, but nothing was coming to me.

“Don’t do this, I’ll do whatever you want,” Kayla said standing, trying to appeal to him sexually. In one swift motion he raises his left hand and backhands her to the floor, spilling some of the contents of the bottle he was holding.

“Get your filthy hands off of me. I can’t stand the sight of you. I’m so mad with you I don’t know what to do. Got me looking for your ass for over a year now. You shoulda thought about that before you left.” Kayla laid on the floor crying; pleading to Julius between sobs for him not to do this. The fear and trembling in her voice let me know that he was capable of murder.

In that moment I recalled the scriptures in Proverbs that talked about the wrath of a man finding his wife with a lover. This had to be a bad dream. I wanted someone to shake me and wake me up, but it was real. I had messed up bad this time. God tried to reach me, but my flesh got the best of me. I should have never dialed her number. Should have followed my first mind to keep going. Should have left well enough alone. As I sat there contemplating my fate during the seconds that seemed like minutes, Julius took another drink out of the bumpy bottle of Seagrams Gin he held in his left hand. He turned it up. I watched him watch me as he took gulp after gulp as if it were water. I thought of rushing him to try and wrestle that gun from his hand, but I sat motionless. Frightened by the thought of what Kayla’s tears knew all too well. I watched as Julius raised his gun hand and pointed it towards me, I closed my eyes and waited for him to squeeze.



This will conclude the blog edition of chance encounters. I think I will work on this some more and turn it into a novella, possibly rewrite some of what's already written and fill in the gaps a bit. But consider this a first free look. I hope you enjoyed it. As time permits, maybe I will create another blovella. Feel free to comment or ask any questions you have regarding the story. Thanks for stopping by.

Uhh Ohh

It's Wednesday already?! Dude ain't ready today, he got some other stuff going on. Have to holla at ya'll later. Two fingers - that's peace for you squares. In the meantime, here's a few jokes.

Taking It To The Next Level

A guy had been dating a girl for over a year when he decided it was time to take their relationship a stage further.

"How do you feel about sex?" he asked cautiously.

"It's fine, she said, "as long as it is infrequent."

He looked at her, puzzled. "Is that one word or two?"

The Price of Marriage

William and Mildred were married for 25 years. They decided to celebrate with a trip to Las Vegas. When they entered the hotel/casino and registered, a sweet young woman dressed in a very short skirt became very friendly. William brushed her off rather rudely. Mildred objected, "William, she was nice, that young woman, and you were so rude."

"Mildred, she's a prostitute."

"I don't believe you. That sweet, young thing?

"Let's go up to our room and I'll prove it." In their room, William called down to the desk and asked for Candie to come to room 1217.

"Now," he said, "you hide in the bathroom with the door open just enough to hear us, okay?" She did. Soon, there was a knock on the door. William opened it and Candie walked in, swirling her hips provocatively.

"So, I see you're interested after all," she said.

William asked, "How much do you charge?"

"$125 basic rate, $100 tips for special services."

William was taken aback. "$125! I was thinking more in the range of $25."

Candie laughed derisively. "You must really be a hick if you think you can buy sex for that price."

"Well," said William, "I guess we can't do business. Goodbye." After she left, Mildred came out of the bathroom. "I just can't believe it."

William said, "Let's forget it. We'll go have a drink, then eat dinner."

At the bar, as they sipped their cocktails, Candie came up behind William, pointed slyly at Mildred, and said, "See what you get for $25?"

5 Questions Most Feared By Men

1. What are you thinking about?
2. Do you love me?
3. Do I look fat in this?
4. Do you think she is prettier than me?
5. What would you do if I died?

What makes these questions so difficult is that each one is guaranteed to explode into a major argument if the man answers incorrectly (i.e. tells the truth). Therefore, as a public service, each question is analyzed below, along with possible responses.

Question #1: What are you thinking about? The proper answer to this, of course, is: "I'm sorry if I've been pensive, dear. I was just reflecting on what a warm, wonderful, thoughtful, caring, intelligent woman you are, and how lucky I am to have met you."

This response obviously bears no resemblance to the true answer, which most likely is one of the following: a. "Football." b. "Golf." c. "How fat you are." d. "How I would spend the insurance money if you died."

Perhaps the best response to this question was offered by Al Bundy, who once told Peg, "If I wanted you to know what I was thinking, I would be talking to you!"

Question #2: Do you love me? The proper response is: "Yes!" or, if you feel a more detailed answer is in order, "Yes, dear."

Inappropriate responses include: a. "Oh yeah, sh*tloads." b. "Would it make you feel better if I said yes?" c. "That depends on what you mean by love." d. "Does it matter?" e. "Who, me?"

Question #3: Do I look fat? The correct answer is an emphatic: "Of course not!"

Incorrect answers are: a. "Compared to what?" b. "I wouldn't call you fat, but you're not exactly thin." c. "A little extra weight looks good on you." d. "I've seen fatter." e. "Sorry, what did you say? I was just thinking about how I would spend the insurance money if you died."

Question #4: Do you think she's prettier than me? Once again, the proper response is an emphatic: "Of course not!"

Incorrect responses include: a. "Yes, but you have a better personality." b. "Not prettier, but definitely thinner." c. "Not as pretty as you when you were her age." d. "Define pretty." e. "Sorry what did you say? I was just thinking about how I would spend the insurance money if you died."

Question #5: What would you do if I died? A definite no-win question. (The real answer, of course, is "Buy a Ferrari and a boat.")

No matter how you answer this, be prepared for at least an hour of follow-up questions, usually along these lines:

Woman: Would you get married again?
Man: Definitely not!
Woman: Why not -- don't you like being married?
Man: Of course I do.
Woman: Then why wouldn't you remarry?
Man: Okay, I'd get married again.
Woman: You would? (With a hurtful look on her face)
Man: (audible groan)
Woman: Would you sleep with her in our bed?
Man: Where else would we sleep?
Woman: Would you put away my pictures, and replace them with pictures of her?
Man: That would seem like the proper thing to do.
Woman: And would you let her use my golf clubs?
Man: She can't use them -- she's left-handed.
Woman: (silence)
Man: Sh*t.

One more won't hurt.

---

The Bull Grapevine

Three bulls heard via the grapevine that the rancher was going to bring yet another bull onto the ranch, and the prospect raised a discussion among them.

First Bull: Boys, we all know I've been here five years. Once we settled our differences, we agreed on which 100 of the cows would be mine. Now, I don't know where this newcomer is going to get his cows, but I ain't givin' him any of mine.

Second Bull: That pretty much says it for me, too. I've been here three years and have earned my right to the 50 cows we've agreed are mine. I'll fight him, run him off or kill him, but I'm keeping all my cows!

Third Bull: I've only been here a year, and so far you guys have only let me have 10 cows to take care of. I may not be as big as you fellows (yet) but I am young and virile, so I simply must keep all my cows.

They had just finished their big talk when an eighteen-wheeler pulls up in the middle of the pasture with only one animal in it: the biggest Son-of-Another-Bull these guys had ever seen. At 4,700 pounds, each step he took toward the ground strained the steel ramp to the breaking point.

First Bull: Ahem... You know, it's actually been some time since I really felt I was doing all my cows justice, anyway. I think I can spare a few for our new friend.

Second Bull: I have plenty of cows to take care of, if I just stay on the opposite end of the pasture from him. I'm certainly not looking for an argument.

They look over at their young friend, the 3rd bull, and find him pawing the dirt, shaking his horns, and snorting.

First Bull: Son, let me give you some advice real quick. Let him have some of your cows and live to tell about it.

Third Bull: Hell, he can have all my cows. I'm just making sure he knows I'm a bull.

That should give y'all plenty to talk or think about. The story should be back on track soon.