La Petite Mort
Written By Jasmine Jones
Sheek. 34. Scammer Paterfamilias.
I met him while I was sitting in front of the infamous “Booty Wall” at the Quad. I was a 19-year-old freshman at Howard University and I wanted to see what all the hype was about. He pulled up in his ’97 Honda Accord thinking he was the shit. And I won’t lie, I thought the same.
He’d come pick me up every now and then and we’d ride around Maryland while he told me about his epic battles in his hometown New York. My Tennessean southern belle ass ate it all up too. Our nights would usually end with him passing out after about an hour of begging to “just put the tip in.” At this time I was a proud virgin, holding out for only the right one to come around.
I will never forget about the morning I literally saw Heaven’s Gates open. I was laying in his bed, which was in his mother’s basement. And I heard his mother call his name. I never met her but I could imagine she resembled Biggs’ aunt from Shottas because of the way she called his name. It was like that of a woman who spent too much of her life raising bad ass children with no father figure present just to see them become what their father was.
I literally felt the annoyance in her voice when she called his name. I laid there like “fuck. This woman gon’ come in here and beat my ass and his” but luckily he ran to greet her with a “Mommy I’m here.” I breathed a sigh of relief and rolled over, and I realized, this nigga had Power Rangers sheets. I knew then that I had gotten into some deep shit I didn’t want to be a part of. So I tried to pretend I was in a deep sleep when he came back. He knew I was faking and woke me up to kisses and fingers.
Now usually I would push him away but for some reason I felt that shit and was like “Fuck it, what do I have to lose?” I curled back and felt him inch in closer and closer. And the feeling that I usually felt would usually make me run to the bathroom because I swear I thought I was about to piss myself. But he kept going and I opened my eyes and looked up and saw a light shine through that basement ceiling. I let out my best “Breathe Again” Toni Braxton moans and let my body follow the light. My first orgasm, wrapped up in Power Rangers sheets, and holding a grown ass man who refused to grow up. It wasn’t the most romantic moment, but to quote a line from a beautiful Andre 3000 interlude “Fuck it. I liked that shit.”