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Chapter One:

In the Beginning?



A wise man once told me that a man needs a woman in his life like a turtle

needs the shell on his back. Well, he wasn't all too wise. As a matter of fact,

he was this old, drunk guy that I met at this bar a couple years ago, weeping

about his wife leaving him with nothing but the shirt on his back. At the time, I

couldn't understand what in the world would make him come up with such a

weird comparison-turtles and relationships. I just took it as the alcohol talking.

Besides, that was when I was in the prime of my mac-daddy days. Relationship

jargon was just that-jargon! And in reference to what my Uncle Jim once told

me, I was young, dumb and always trying to find some. By no means was I

trying to feel any kind of a relationship, or more blatantly, anything lasting

longer than a one night stand. So at the time, I didn't know what that guy

meant, why he was saying it, or why in the hell he was saying it to me.

But like I stated earlier, that was back in the prime of my player days, which

virtually ended when I met Brandi Brown. Brandi, by far, was the woman of my

dreams. Never in my life had I met a lady like her. To me, she was all that a

man could want in a woman. But out of all the places in the world I could've met

her, I met her at a club. I first laid eyes on her in the midst of celebrating my

boy Rex's birthday at this little club we hit frequently called the Hot Spot. We

walked in, chillin', like we normally did, and unexpectedly, we both spotted her

at the same time.

"Man, look 'a here!" yelled Rex as his eyes zeroed in on her in the middle of

the dance floor. "You ever saw her in here before?"

"Hell nah," I quickly replied.

She was dancing all by herself wearing this tight, black body skirt that

revealed every perfectly placed curve on her body. She had long, thick, black

hair that dangled down to her shoulders, a lightly tanned complexion, and

luscious, plump lips. She freely swayed to the jazzy tunes that played as if she

was the only soul in the joint. This chick was so hot, not a guy in the club had

the nerve to approach her. You could literally look around and view every guy

in the house sneaking peaks at her when their women turned their heads, or if

they were by themselves, they just lustfully stared. I even caught a glimpse of a

couple of envious females looking her way with frowns on their faces.

"Damn!" I grunted under my breath.

"Now that's dangerous," proclaimed Rex.

"You gonna holla?, birthday boy?"

"Hell nah, she's too damn scandalous!" he replied. "You holla'."

I grinned, "My game's good, but I don't know about that."

"Just do it for me. Show me what I taught you."

"What you taught me?"

"Yeah, you know I taught you everything you know about the opposite sex."

He was just scared his ego was going to get hurt. "Whatever, Rex." As I

continued to stare at her, something overwhelmed my body, perhaps just

hormones, but I became strangely determined to meet this lady. Not just that,

but something was telling me that I had to say something to her as if it was my

destiny. Suddenly, I became transfixed on kissing those luscious, full lips of

hers while sliding my hands up and down her slender back, drawing her firm,

naked body against mine. Yes indeed, I was going to approach this precious

victim of Godly beauty. I truly felt it would?ve been an opportunity missed if I?d

done otherwise. "You know what?" I took a deep breath. "I'm gonna do it."

He smiled, "Do that thang, pimp-a-licious."

"Pimp-a-licious, gonna do that thang, man!" If only I was as confident as I

sounded. But I had to do it. I had to meet this lady. So I loaded all of the

mental weapons that my brain harbored, and I strolled to my destiny.

I began bobbing my head to the music, trying to look as hip and slick as I

possibly could. I'd bagged many fine females in the past but not as gorgeous

as this one. As I drew near, she noticed me approaching her. "Hi!" I nervously

blurted out.

She gave me a slight nod, still grooving to the tunes. I quickly realized she

was going to be an arrogant one. "So, are you dancing by yourself?"

Sometimes the obvious should never be put into question form. Again she said

nothing. I looked back at Rex. He had grabbed himself a chair in the corner,

steadily observing my actions like a gospel stage play. Man, I couldn't let him

see this woman get the best of me. I would never hear the end of it from him. I

quickly turned to her. "Do you mind if I dance with you?"

She stopped dancing and examined me from head to toe. A petite smile

appeared upon her face. Nervous and dumbfounded, I smiled right back at

her. And that's when she approached me. Before I knew it, her lips were

against mine. Instantly, my mind went haywire.

"I don't feel like dancing anymore," she softly replied into my ear. Her sweet

voice had a hint of an English accent in it.

With my mind on sabbatical, I could only come back with, "Well, what do

you wanna do?"

She grabbed me by my hand. "Come on, love."

I looked over to Rex whose mouth had virtually fell in his lap as my feet

mindlessly followed this woman off of the dance floor. I didn't know what to do

next as I simply followed her lead. In a matter of seconds, we were outside in

the middle of the parking lot.

"I hope your friend drove tonight," she threw a set of keys into my hands as

we walked down a row of cars.

"He did," I said. Really it didn't matter who drove, because if I did, he was

gonna be out of luck this night. And I knew he'd do the same to me. If he were

me in the same situation and he was walking out of the club with such a

beautiful lady and I was going to need a ride home, he would just leave my a--

hitchhiking. But fortunately for him, he drove because I would gladly return the

hypothetical favor.

We stopped at a red convertible with the top down. I opened the passenger

door for her, and I anxiously jumped in on the driver side. Never had something

so spontaneous happened to me with such a beautiful lady. I just wanted to get

to wherever she wanted us to go, however quickly we could get there and see

where things would go from there.

She gently placed her hand on my thigh. "Go straight down Main, take a

left on Brenton, and pull into the driveway of the third house on the right."

Straight and direct, just what I liked. As I pulled out of the parking lot, I

realized I didn't even know what this woman's name was. She just stared out of

the window like she didn't even care. I could've been Charles Manson for all

she knew, but even worse than that, she could?ve been.

"Hey, do you have a name?" She didn't answer. She blatantly ignored me,

just like she did when I first approached her in the club. Now see, it's things like

that, that makes a man think with his brain and not his jimmy all of the time. But

then I took another glance at her body and quickly realized how much more

powerful a man's jimmy is than his brain. As a matter of fact, it is his brain.

Besides, this chick was a perfect ten. A ten, then some. And those are just too

hard to come by at times.

Her directions led me straight to a two-story brick house smack-dab in the

middle of Brenton Avenue. "Keys," she chillingly requested. A brief thought of

being stranded in the middle of nowhere swiftly raced through my mind. I gave

her the keys. "Come on," she said. Thank you, Jesus. I couldn't bare the

thought of walking all the way back to that club and trying to quickly compose a

lie to Rex as to why I was perspiring so badly.

I jumped out of the car and shadowed her tracks like a starving dog sniffing

for a meaty bone. She opened the door to the house and flicked on the lights

beside the entrance. As I stepped into her crib, I began to instantly think that

this experience had to be some kind of cruel joke sponsored by my

subconscious and somehow, I was sleeping and couldn't wake up. And the way

it was beginning to feel, this was gonna be a wet one.

She glanced back at me, "Close the door." I shut the door and followed her

up the stairs. The house really didn't have much in it. In fact, it looked unlived

in altogether. The walls were neatly entangled with an assortment of oil

paintings but not much furniture consumed the home. Nonetheless, my primary

concern rested on just one piece of furniture in particular--the bed!

We walked into what had to have been the master bedroom. It was

humongous. An exquisite Persian rug laced the floor. There was a huge floor-

length window open, and the nightly breeze blew her finely-silk draperies into

the room. Most significantly of all, she had this massive king-sized bed in the

center of the room.

I looked around, not trying to seem overly-amazed. "So this is yours?"

"Nope!" she said as she walked alongside her bed, slowly sliding her fingers

across the satin sheets.

Damn! I knew she had to have a man, somewhere.

"Well, it is for now. My agency is leasing this place for me until I find some

place to live down here," she said.

"Oh," I said relieved that there was no sign of any manly presence in her life

so far. "All this for you, huh?"

She grinned. "Yeap."

I walked over to the window and gazed down at the dimly lit street. I didn't

want to seem too anxious for what she had to offer. "Nice view."

"I'll say," she replied.

I could almost feel her eyes cutting through my back. I turned around,

thinking maybe I could slip a little bit of my own arrogance in there. "I was

referring to the street."

"I was, too. What else would I be referring to?"

Ooh, low blow, and can't say that I didn't deserve it. As she took a seat on

the bed, I just stared at her, not having a clue to where things were headed.

But if I knew anything, I definitely had to have them go the direction I wanted

them to.

"So," I took a deep breath. "Why did you bring me here?"

"Why did you come?" she quickly combated.

"What" You grabbed my hand and led the way."

"You're a grown man. I'm quite sure you could've stopped me."

"I could've, but why would I want to stop you?"

"Uh, because you have respect for yourself and you wouldn't want to

become victim to a one night stand."

Playing it witty, I quickly turned my head acting as if I was surprised, "Is that

what this is, a one night stand? Well, I have never?"

"This is not a one night stand," she said, really surprising me.

"It isn't?"

"No."

"Really?" I threw my hands up, looking side to side. "Then what is this?"

She grinned. "It's a show!"

"What, you talking about like Candid Camera, or something?" I began

looking around, searching for any hidden cameras I hadn't noticed. I knew the

whole get-up was too good to be true.

"No, silly," she laughed.

I was severely intrigued. "Then what type of show are you talking about?"

"A strip-show."

Suddenly I had a smile the size of Texas on my face. "Oh, for real?" I

quickly planted myself onto a chair next to the window. "Go ahead."

"You don't get it, do you?" she walked to me and stood in front of me.

I looked up at her like a little boy, waiting for his mother's response to a

request to go outside and play. "What am I not getting?"

She pulled me up on my feet. "I'm not stripping, silly. You are."

"You must be outta' your mind!"

A blank look posted upon her face.

"How can I just take my clothes off in front of you? I don't even know your

name. I mean, don't get me wrong, you do look good and all, but?"

She placed her finger on my lips. "My name is Brandi Brown. I am a model

for the Black Friday Modeling Agency. I was born in Long Beach, California. I

spent a majority of my childhood in London with my mother. I'm twenty-four

years old, and I picked you out of a club full of yearning men to be my private

entertainment for tonight. Now you can either do as I request or you won't have

to worry about getting any more of these ever again."

She gently removed her finger and pressed her lips against mine. I just

stood there, frozen, enjoying the unbelievable softness of her lips. After a few

moments of her allowing me to sample heaven, she backed away. I took a

deep breath, wondering what was it that I had gotten myself into. I was always

accustomed to being the one in charge, but that just wasn't the case this night.

"The choice is yours." She walked to the bed and spread out on her side

with her face resting in the palm of her hand.

Her eyes stayed glued on me. She knew that she blatantly left the ball in

my court. By no means did I have a problem with how my body looked. I was a

fairly fit brother although I could stand to do just a few extra sit-ups every now

and then.

"My name is Darrel, by the way. I just thought I'd throw that at you." She

knew she had all the cards in her hands, and that's what was killing me. I had

never been the pupil, always the teacher. But this lady was teaching me

something new. Something I was very unfamiliar with. And even though I was

down in unfamiliar territory, I remained intrigued. Very intrigued. "So let me get

this straight. You just want me to take all my clothes off for you with no

questions asked? Might I ask what's in it for me? I know it's got to be more

than a kiss. I mean, I got that from you just by asking for a dance."

"Me. Your prize will be me."

Being ever so clever, I asked, "What part of you? The neck, the rib, the

thigh--what? You can't leave a brotha' in suspense like that 'cause I gotta

know what I'm getting. I don't know about you."

"Your prize will be all of me that you'd like."

I smiled, "Well if that's the case...," I turned to the window to close the

curtains.

"With the curtains open."

I immediately turned around. "Say what?"

"I don't want you to close the curtains. Don't you like the breeze it brings

into the room?"

"Yeah, but there's like, peeping-toms and stuff like that out there! I can

undress just fine without the wind coming in and strange folks staring at my rear

end."

She nods her head. "You are a confident black man, aren't you?"

"Hell yeah!" I announced. "But that doesn't have anything to do with

having my a--! being exposed to all of the Atlanta night life.

"Well, love, I only get involved with confident men," she explained. "And the

way I see it, if you want someone as precious as I am, then you can't be bashful

about it. Because once you've gone Brandi Brown, you never come back."

For a moment, I thought my manhood had ears. Instantly my manhood rose to

the occasion--literally. Speaking on behalf of most men, we just love it when a

woman talks dirty to us. "Alright, Brandi, I guess I'll just have to give you what

your little demented eyes have been dying to see. The Darrel Walker show,

brought to you live from Brenton Avenue. Get ready, baby!"

Quickly, I submerged into her little strip-tease game. I started by sliding my

belt off, slowly, while giving her this calm, demanding stare. Hell, if I was going

to make a total fool out of myself I decided I might as well have fun doing it.

Next, I unbuttoned my shirt.

"Now that's what I'm talking about, love," she yelled as she fanned herself.

I never stripped before, but obviously I was doing something right--I hoped.

In a matter of moments, my shirt was off and I was unzipping my slacks. "You

ready for the main event, baby?"

"Yeah, love, momma's ready for the main event." she responded while

licking her lips.

I was beginning to get off on the little show. I pulled off my slacks and threw

them against the wall.

"Take it off. Take it off," she demanded.

I blew her a kiss . "You don't wanna see this."

"Oh, yes I do. Yes, I do."

Then I did it. I stripped off the boxers.

"Oh, yes!" she yelled. "Yes!"

I knew I was straight, but ole' girl was blowing it out of proportion. But I

loved it. I heard a car cruising by, and someone yelled, "Nice a--, buddy!"

Yeah, it was embarrassing, but I was about to get something that nosey

passerby wasn't--laid.

"You ready for some of this?" I asked, knowing that she had to be ready to

feel the total Darrel Walker experience.

"No, baby," she groaned, "Not quite yet."

"What?" I was totally baffled.

"You can have all of this, love," she said as she rolled over on her back and

divided her legs while holding herself up on her elbows. Her beautiful brown

eyes tastefully observed my every motion. "But I want you to do one other thing

for me."

"What? What else do you want me to do?"

"Boo, I want you to do...'The Bird'," she quickly blurted out.

"Say what?"

"I want you to do 'The Bird' for me."

Suddenly my manhood began to sink. "Oh, hell nah! Butt-naked?" I shook

my head, positively final with my decision.

Then she rose. "Oh, you're gonna do it."

"Baby girl, it's been fun, but I ain't doing no s--- like that," I commanded. I

looked towards the corner of the room trying to catch a glimpse of where I threw

my pants.

"Darrel," she purred. In an instance she regained my attention. "Can you

really say no to this?" She pulled off her blouse, slid off her skirt and held her

hands out like 'what?' My mouth dropped like a full sack of potatoes. "The bra

and the panties will definitely be next. Only if you're man enough to earn

them."

With no mind control needed at this point, my brain played the beat to the

Morris Day classic, and my feet and hands did the rest. My God, I was doing

'The Bird'! I even did a spin. My eyes pleasantly rested on her beautifully

tanned body as the song repeated itself within my mind. She playfully nodded

her head as she hummed out the beat of the song while she sat on the edge of

the bed.

"You f--- pervert!" yelled someone in another car passing by.

She fingered me over. "Come over here, love."

I danced all the way to her, still in rhythm. She got up, put her arms around

my neck and kissed me. That's when I stopped. It was time for me to do my

thing, and I couldn't say that it wasn't well deserved. I had literally made an a--!

out of myself, but I knew what laid ahead of me was a night of passion with the

sexiest woman I had ever laid eyes on.

"Take me, love," she whispered into my ear.

I picked her up, placed her on the center of the bed, and the love making

began.





By far, that was the most outrageous night of my life, and it certainly was

the best sex I'd ever had. It was so good that my way of thinking completely

changed. And after a few weeks of exclusively dating Miss Brandi Brown and

having her move into my crib, she easily became the butter to my bread, the

cool to my breeze, and the slickness in my step. And to the surprise of all the

great players before me, all bets were off. I got whipped!

Now for folks who don't know, there ain?t nothing worse than a player that

suddenly gets whipped. He starts doing stupid s--- like waiting by the phone all

night, asking dumb questions like, "Do you think about me when I'm away,

baby?" or "I know you love me--do you love me, girl?" I was doing all of the

above and much, much more. That lady just messed me all up. But I didn't fall

into critical status until that night I decided to finally hang up the jersey and

asked her to marry me. I got all on my knees and did it. And the story didn't

stop there. Uh-uh, the story was just beginning.

After four months of being in a relationship with Brandi, I popped the

question and asked her to marry me. We were the definition of hot and heavy.

There wasn't a moment when we were together that we weren't in each other?s

face, either about to have sex or doing everything we could to get 'bout it. And

I think the one thing that veered me towards thinking that I wanted to be with

this woman forever was the simple fact that she was everything I thought I ever

wanted in a wife. She was sexy, hard-working, and had a good head on her

shoulders. And of course, she was sexy again. So against everybody's who

was close to me wishes that actually knew about the situation, I popped the

question and at a small reception in Las Vegas, I married her.

And the aftermath... I think it was the great R&B artist, Percy Sledge, who

sang that song, 'Take Time To Know Her'. How stupid we men are when we let

our manhood do all of our thinking. Just like that song Mr. Sledge sang, Momma

didn't like her, was totally against the marriage, and about two months after our

wedding, I caught this dread-headed bastard on top of my woman in my very

own king-sized bed. And one of the many things that I've learned from being

whipped is, you just don't have any damn sense whatsoever. When I stumbled

into that bedroom, she looked towards me while the Rasta-man was all on top

of her, huffin' and puffin'.

'Darrel, you wanna join in?" she asked with her nails gripped into his ashy-

a-- back.

The dude looked over to me, smiled and said, "You can have her next,

mon. I'll only be another minute, dear boy."

And I just stood there, dumb-witted, with my mouth wide open like I just

missed the ice cream truck. I couldn't conjure up enough intelligence to say not

one damn thing. I just froze as they just kept on doing it as if I wasn't even

there. Then suddenly, I finally broke out of that suspension of disbelief and

yelled, "Get the f--- off my wife!"

And the brotha' paused and looked at me. He eased up off of her and said,

"I wasn't finished yet, but you know the s--- good, you can go 'head, mon. I'll

join in after I get a breather."

Now at that moment, I do believe that?s when all realization of being an a----

kickin' black man overwhelmed my body because I blacked out for a moment,

and when I came back to reality, the police had me in cuffs, sitting on my living

room sofa, and they were wheeling the brotha out on a stretcher. He wasn't

dead or nothing, but I demandingly kicked his %#&@$! and unfortunately couldn?t

recall any memory of it. Wasn't that a b---? Then Brandi walked out of the

bedroom, fully-clothed, with one of the officers. She looked at me and couldn't

say a word.

The officer approached me. "Mr. Walker, would you please stand up and

turn around?" He relived me of the handcuffs. "I'm going to ask you to leave

here when we leave." He looked over to Brandi. "In some states, he could've

killed Mr. Williams and got off like a fat rat. He wouldn't have served not a day

in jail."

I tried to hold back my tears as I stared at her. She looked as if she

wanted to cry, but didn?t have enough nerve to do so.

"Mr. Walker, you're free to get a change of clothing," he said.

I walked towards the bedroom.

"No," she yelled. "I'll go." She rushed into the bedroom.

"Well, vice-versa, it makes me no difference," the cop nonchalantly replied.

"As long as one of you leave. I don't wanna have to make another trip here

tonight. Adultery and fornication tends to bring the worst out of couples.

Especially when some stuff like what happened here tonight goes down."

Unfortunately, all I could do was look at her. I was too damn dumb to say

anything and too damn whipped to tell her she needed to get the hell out and

never come back. I had it bad. She returned to the den and to my surprise she

had her things packed already. Bags in hand, she gave me one last stare and

proceeded to the door. But before she left, she turned around and said,

"Darrel... I wish I could say I was sorry, but I was only being me, love."

I turned my eyes towards the ceiling, not wanting to hear anything she had

to say. She hurt me badly, and I was afraid that if I looked into her face I would'

ve done something stupid like break down. It was bad enough she played me

for a fool. There was no way in the world I was gonna let her see a tear drop

from my eyes. I was content with the idea of crying behind closed doors, but

definitely not in front of her. I wouldn?t give her the courtesy. So after she

stood there for a moment, waiting for me to reply, which obviously wasn't going

to happen, she sighed and walked out.

Honestly, I wish I knew what the hell she meant by what she said. I thought I

knew her. I thought she loved me. I knew I loved her. Why'd she do it, I kept

thinking. Was I not doing something right? For the life of me, I couldn't

understand what went wrong.

Within a few weeks I was able to get an annulment. That process went by

fairly quickly, since she didn't deny the fact that she was the one that actually

committed the adulterous act. We set up a meeting to sign the necessary

paperwork and that was the last time I saw Brandi Brown. I told myself I would

be through with women for a very long time. Something inside of me, I felt, was

irreplaceably lost. And to my sudden surprise, I had become single again.











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