shorty (got her eyes on me) . pretty blaq
Instructions: before you start reading, go listen to ‘Shorty (Got Her Eyes On Me)’ by Donell Jones
It was a late night for me as usual. Being an entertainment attorney, I’m always tied up with late night meetings and dinner dates with my clients. This night was no different. I almost forgot that today is Valentine’s Day, and wouldn’t have even realized it until I received a few random “Happy V-Day” text messages from some females I’ve dated and messed around with in the past. I didn’t bother replying to any of them. Valentine’s day is pretty much just another day to me, but I always made sure to reserve this day for especially for my lady. I would go all out for her, in order to compensate for all of the time that I short changed her during the year.
Nine months ago, after three years of dating; she called it quits. She decided that she had enough of my inconsistencies with communication and time management, and she wanted me to make her a priority. She was tired of being in limbo, waiting for me to decide where I wanted this relationship to go. She asked me if I could see myself one day marrying her, and when I replied that I don’t really see myself marrying at all, that was her que to exit the relationship and move on for good. I loved her, we just weren’t on the same page with what we wanted from one another.
The past nine months of being without her made me realize just how much I missed having some sort of companionship from a woman, forcing me to realize that at the age of thirty-four years old, what I thought I wanted, is not what I really needed. I started feeling some type of way, thinking about marriage, relationships, family and all types of shit, things that normally wouldn’t have even cross my mind. I didn’t feel like going straight home after I finished meeting with my last client, so I decided to hit up this new after-hours spot for a few drinks on the solo, to unwind and get my mind off some shit.
I pulled up and let valet park my sparkling black on black Bentley GT; jokingly warning them not to put nan scratch or dent in it. I may have come straight from work, but I was still cleaner than a muthafucka, dressed in a black Armani v-neck sweater, dark grey tailored slacks, black Versace dress shoes, fresh cut with a trimmed goatee, and I was still smelling like the Issey Miyake that I’d sprayed on in the morning.
When I stepped into the spot, I surveyed my surroundings; noticing that there were quite a few couples here. The majority of the patrons were single women and a few brothas sprinkled here and there, checking out their potential prey for the evening. It was an upscale/urban atmosphere; reminded me of James St. Patricks club on ‘Power’. The DJ was spinning some smooth R&B, 90s Hip Hop, Neo Soul, and it was a pretty chill atmosphere. I spotted a few bad ones as I was making my way to the bar, but I wasn’t really giving them no energy. My mind was on getting this drank in my system and relaxing, plus females like that come a dime a dozen for me; same look, same contoured body type, same Fashion Nova outfits, same, same, same. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy them thoroughly, but tonight, I wasn’t much feeling it.
I took the first open seat at the bar and flagged the bartender over,
“Aye my man, let get a double shot of Remy 1738 on the rocks”
He got it to me right away and I told him to keep my tab open, I was going need a couple of these. After a few sips, I swiveled the barstool around positioning myself so that I could do some people watching. I noticed a little crowed forming directly in my line of vision out on the dance floor. The DJ was playing “Sweetest Taboo” by Sade. And that’s when I saw her. She was thick, like Jill Scott thick, with the prettiest Hershey’s chocolate skin, that shimmered like it was dipped in honey. She was wearing this off the shoulder, cobalt blue, mermaid tailed dressed, that went right below her knees. That dress hugged each and every one of her voluptuous curves like a long lost relative, reuniting with her body. She was rocking some open toed stiletto heels that showed off her pretty feet, and made her calf muscles pop, accentuating her thick and shapely legs. She had a crowd around her for sure, but danced like she was the only one in the room. That was until she locked eyes with me. Shorty swayed, swiveled, and moved her hips to the rhythmic drums, all while never taking her eyes off of me. Usually I would look away, but she pulled me in with her magnetic energy. She traced her hands down her body while still dancing, lip singing along with the lyrics,
"You give me the sweetest taboo, that's why I'm in love with you"
Shorty turned around, so I could get a clear view of all she was blessed with. She swooped her curly, waist length dreads to the side and looked over her shoulder at me, to make sure I was still watching the voodoo she was putting on me with those hips. I took a sip of my Remy, and cracked a half smile to let her know that I still was watching, and that I knew exactly what she was doing.
The bartender tapped my shoulder and broke my stare, causing me to turn to him,
“Hey man, you want another one?” He yelled loudly over the music.
I answered him in a slightly irritated and rushed manner,
“Yea, yea, let me get another one”
“Coming right up!”
When I turned back around, the DJ had already transitioned into another song, and the sweet little devil in the blue dress was no where to be found.
I’m on my third double shot of Remy and feeling too nice. I mean, aside from the fact that ‘blue dress’ got away from me before I could see what that body felt like up close and personal on the dance floor. A call came in from one of my clients, a well-known rapper on the West Coast. I answered it, curious as to why he’s blowing me up at 2:00am, when all I do is handle his contract litigations. This fool’s mouth was running a mile a minute, he was frantic, talking about getting picked up on a gun charge. While in the midst of me trying to explain to him that he needs to contact a criminal lawyer, I looked to my right and there she was, Miss Blue Dress herself, waiting on the bartender to come around and take her drink order.
At that point, I tuned out everything my client was talking about. With the phone still pressed to my ear and me starring at her openly with no shame, I began thinking to myself what type of drink she would order….
Hmmm… she looks like a Dirty Martini type a lady… nah nah… She’s definitely about to order a Cosmo…
The bartender finally approached her and she ordered her drink,
“Hey love, let me get a Jameson and Ginger ale, with a squeeze of Lemon… on the rocks”
She turned her head to the left and caught me peering at her. She wasn’t weirded out, in fact, her smile said that she was happy to have a run in with me again. When the bartender returned with her drink, I abruptly ended the call without saying another word to my client.
“Yo! My man, put the lady’s drink on my tab please,”
She looked at me, smiled and said, “Thank you” then proceeded to sip her drink like she didn’t just make love to me with her eyes less than an hour ago. Like I didn’t just buy her a drink. Like she can’t see that a nigga (me) is interested. I didn’t wan’t to seem pressed, so I turned back around and commenced to sipping my drink, and scrolling through text messages, pretending like I wasn’t feeling some type of way. I periodically glanced up to see if she was still there, and she was, just sipping her drink and paying me no mind. I guess I had built up some liquid courage because I just blurted out to her over the music,
“So you just gonna act like you didn’t have your eyes on me earlier miss lady?”
She walked over to me and took a seat in the barstool directly next to me. We both turned our barstools so that we were facing inward towards each other. She crossed her leg, took another sip from the thin black straw in her glass, then responded,
“Of course I saw you, ALL the ladies saw you, I’m just not the type to initiate, I prefer the man to make his interest known.”
“Is that right? Well I thought that’s what I was doing when I bought you that drink.”
“Hey, I thought a brotha was just being a gentleman.”
I stuck out my hand to shake hers and said,
“I’m Dezmond, but my folks call me Dez, and what’s your name miss lady?”
She grabbed my hand gracefully, slowly shaking it and responded,
“Like the drink?”
“Ha! If I had a dollar for every time a dude asked me that at a bar, I’d have enough money to buy one of those.”
She looked down at my wrist, admiring my Presidential Rolex, which was the gateway to spark more conversation. We eventually lost track of time talking to each other. Not only was she fine and sexy, but she was intelligent and intriguing. I’d never had a stranger hold my attention or interest for as long as Bailey did. We talked about a little bit of everything; and as mentally stimulating as she was, my mind still couldn’t help but drift into the thoughts of the multiple ways I was gonna please her tonight, If given the opportunity.
3:15am (Quarter past 3:00)
The DJ threw on my joint by Ro James, ‘Permission’. I guess this was Bailey’s shit too, cuz she raised up from the barstool, tipsy, yet seductively grabbing me by my hand and leading me to the middle of the dance floor where we first laid eyes on each other. I followed closely behind her, heart beating fast as hell, in anticipation of feeling that soft body pressed against mine as we danced. Bailey turned around and pressed her ass right against me and started winding her hips slow and melodically to the music. I ran my hands down the silhouette of her frame, caressing her thighs, and pulling her in closer to me by the waist, and she didn’t stop me. She tilted her head back, resting it on my shoulder as I nudged my nose into her neck, taking in her scent. She smelled like a mix floral jasmine, and vanilla; earthy, sweet, and her pheromones were driving me wild. With my lips pressed to her ear I said,
“You ready to get out of here?”
She was caught off guard a bit, but continued to wind and grind on me, as if the mere thought of it was turning her on just as much as I was.
“And go where?”
“My Loft is just downtown, its nothing”
“Well I don’t know…. I never did anything like this before.”
“We been talking all night, you feeling me, and I’m feeling you, why we wasting time?”
I’m not sure if she was feeling that I was being too direct, but all of a sudden her demeanor changed and she distanced herself from me. She turned around to face me, placing her hands on her hips and giving me a stern look.
"Yea, I'm not sure what type of women you're used to dealing with, but just because you’re fine, and wealthy, and successful; and did I mention fine? That doesn't mean that its gonna be that easy to get me back to your place on the first night.”
She gave me a devilish grin as she brushed past me and switched away. She looked back over her shoulder and motioned for me to follow her. I stumbled through the crowd a little more faded than I thought I was. We walked down a long hallway, that led to the lady's room. She led the way and I followed behind her, not giving a damn about who saw us entering together. We made our way to the big stall and locked the door behind us. We immediately started passionately kissing and vigorously caressing each other. I pushed her against the wall and we were going at it wildly, as I raised her dress and ripped her panties off, sticking them in my pocket. I kissed, licked and sucked on every inch of exposed skin that she was bearing. Her body just as soft and supple as I imagined. I handled her just like a real nigga was supposed to. I had her lifted up, back against the wall, legs were wrapped around me for dear life, as her moans filled the air with pure pleasure. All of a sudden I heard loud ass knocking, but I ignored it and continued. Whoever this muthafucka was, they were persistent, and they were killing the damn mood.
"Hey Man! Wake up, its last call, I'm bout to close out yo tab!”
A bit discombobulated, I raised my head from the bar counter, realizing that I was still sitting at this damn bar. Everybody else pretty much cleared out and the bartender was still talking to me.
"Bro, you was knocked out, I was ready to call yo ass an Uber.”
"Yo where did she go?"
"Shorty in the blue dress"
"Bruuuuh, you tried to shoot yo shot and she shot you down!"
This fool was laughing at his own corny ass joke like it was some shit that belonged on ‘Def Comedy Jam’.
I handed him my black card, he charged it, then said,
"Bro, Im just fuckin wit you, she dipped out after y’all finished dancing, but she gave me this to give to you.”
He handed me back my black card, along with a business card that read
Dr. Bailey Johnson M.D.
It had her business and personal line on the front. I flipped it over and she wrote
Nice meeting you Dez… call me
I looked up at the bartender, grinning like a kid on Christmas Day and told him
"See man, I knew shorty had her eyes on me."