Chapter Six
“YOU GAVE ME GONORRHEA!”
Edward knew he must have heard D’Alene wrong, as the words shot from the phone and into his ear. He’d already been having a restless day and he didn‘t need outside drama to go with it. His body was still acting up and he had just come back in from a short jog around the block to prove to himself that thing were getting back to normal. He had stop by one of the local fast food places that specialized in home cooked meals and gotten himself a bowl of tortilla soup, a piece of rotisserie chicken and a small Caesar salad, to-go. Not the kind of homecooking he was accustomed to but then again, these folks came from a different home. When he got back to his apartment he plopped down on the couch and clicked on his big screen, high definition, television in the living room. He’d made it just in time to catch the People's Court, one of his favorite shows. He had a mad crush on the judge.
The Judge was on her game today, not only catching the plaintiff in a lie, but calling her on it and throwing in a little Latin proverb to boot. Edward loved the woman. She was beautiful, sex and full of fire. Strong willed women turned him on and her bailiff wasn’t bad to look at either. A tall, strapping brother, dark skinned and muscled all up and stuff.
He managed to time it so that his last bite of food ended with the rolling of the credits for the show. He clicked off the television, and took the fast food containers into kitchen where he rinsed them out before tying them up in the plastic sack they came in and tossing it into the stainless steal trash container, sitting up against the floor cabinets.
Once he had finished his little meal his bed began to call to him. He fought the urge to go to it, for all it was worth. He would not go to sleep; not yet. Although, it wouldn’t be that bad of a thing if he did go to bed, after all he did have to be at work by ten. However, it was only a little after noon. He normally didn’t shut it down until after three on work days. The doctor had told him, days prior, that he was in peak physical condition, so he was determined to make his body live up to that. He’d decided to take out the trash, and then take a quick run around the block. So, he had thrown on some shorts, a tank top and a pair of old running shoes.
When he’d returned home from his jog, and could hear the phone ringing as he put the key into the lock. He pushed open the door and ran over to the phone, which was station on the counter between the living area and kitchen, not bothering to look at the caller id. It was D’Alene, a young lady he had been seeing for a couple of week. D’Alene was a tall sister, standing about five foot nine, in flats. She sported some very stylish dreads that came down to her shoulders. It was the dreads that had initially attracted him to her. Edward had a fascination with dreads, and would have sported the look himself if it had not been frowned upon by his department.
Her skin tone was just a tinge darker than his, and she had the most mesmerizing hazel-green eyes, and some stellar tits, all of which were homemade, not store bought. He had meet her while wandering the mall in search of the exact same leather coat he had worn when he’d taken the Corporal’s exam. She had been in the same store and he had asked her advise on how it looked on him. They’d made an immediate connection and had been dating every since. Last night was the first time he had actually prepared her a home cook meal, all the other times she had invited him over for one of her tantalizing culinary treats, or they‘d go out to a nice restaurant.
Although he was not the best of cooks, Edward could put his foot into some sour cream enchiladas. So, he had prepared a dinner of sour cream enchiladas, brown rice, a tossed salad and a fruit cup, complete with fresh fruit that he had hand picked and cut himself. He even had a pitcher of red Kool-aid chilling in the freezer, so it would have that nice frosty flare to it. Not the most romantic of meals, but his presentation was on point. He served it on the decorative plates that his mom had given him way back when he moved into his first apartment. He dimmed the lights and set candles strategically around the apartment. He even placed an arrangement of fresh cut flowers in the center of the table to set it off, and had a CD of soft, soothing jazz playing in the back ground. He, himself, hated Jazz. Someone had actually given him the CD as a birthday gift. However, he thought that the music fit the occasion better than his old TLC CD.
He just knew he had hit the romantic mood on the head and if anyone had said different, he would have slapped them upside the head and told their mother he had done it.
The dinner had gone pretty well and D'Alene seemed to enjoy it. After they’d finished their meal, he told her to have a seat in the living room, while he quickly rinsed off the plates, stacking them neatly into some warm dish washer, before joining her on the couch. They sat on the couch and watch a very bad comedy, starring one of the Waynan brothers, before getting a little frisky. She had initiated it, when she started nibbling on his neck and ear, while placing her hand directly down the front of his pants. The next thing he knew they were unzipped and she had set his member free. Then, before he could stop her, she had her face down in his lap. His poor dick, found itself escaping one dark place just to end up in another.
Edward thought that the most demeaning thing a woman could do was to give a guy head. He knew this placed him into a huge minority among heterosexual men, in truth he could not think of a single one who shared this sentiment, but he could not help the way he felt. He had both a younger and two older sisters and the thought of any of them providing this service to a guy repulsed him.
Although mentally he claimed to be repulsed by the act, somehow he managed to maintain his erection. Apparently his repulsion did not manage to make the long trip down from his brain to his dick, which seemed to have its on opinion on the matter. No wonder they referred to the thing as the second head. It had been a while since he’d had any type of sexual stimulation, and the last time was self inflicted. His dick seem to enjoyed the warmth D’Alene mouth provided. Who was he to deny his little guy such a simple pleasure.
He threw his head back over the back of the couch and forced his mind to put out the image of what she was doing to him. He just wanted to enjoy the feeling between his legs. He felt the ecstasy rising , and knew he was about to let loose of his special juices. He pressed the palm of his hand firmly against her forehead in an attempt to push her off, but she held fast. He wanted to stop, so as not to skeet in her mouth, but his hips had other plans. They continued to gyrate and thrust, faster and he found that his had went from trying to push her face away to actually pushing it deeper down onto his nine inches of manhood. He felt the fluid as it pumped from his loins like glue being aggressively pressed out a caulking gun, right into her mouth.
Then Edward watched as D’Alene did the unthinkable. He was disgusted and repulsed all at once, but he watched anyway, just to make sure that he had not imaged it. Instead of spitting out his semen, she swallowed it. She actually swallowed his seed.
Damn, girl, if you were still hungry there are still some enchiladasleft in the oven, he thought. YUCK!
That was only the day before. So, how could he had possibly given the girl gonorrhea? He didn’t know much about the disease but he was pretty sure it attacked the genitals. Could gonorrhea even be transmitted oral? He knew that Herpes could, but he wasn’t sure about gonorrhea. He had never heard of anyone having gonorrhea of the mouth. Diarrhea of the mouth, yeah, but never gonorrhea. He supposed anything was possible.
Wait a minute. Hadn’t he just gotten a clean bill of health from his doctor. Surely he would have been told if he’d had any type of venereal disease, right? Or didn’t they test you for S.T.Ds when you got a physical? He wasn’t sure.
Where would he even have picked up the disease? He wasn’t even sexually active. At least not to in anyway that mattered. Plus, he didn’t have any symptoms of the virus. Wasn’t there suppose to be a burning sensation when you peed or something? Then it hit him. He had been very lethargic, lately. Wasn’t that the very thing that prompted him to go to the doctor in the first place? Was sluggishness a symptom of the disease. WAS IT? He suddenly found himself wishing that he had paid closer attention in Health Ed.
Then the bigger question came to his mind. How did she know that she had contracted the disease so fast? Wasn’t there an incubation period for all diseases? Their sexual escapade had just happen the day before. At least the one that ended with her pleasuring him had, but he had preformed oral sex on her on more than one occasion. Was it possible that she had given the disease to him? Yeah, that had to be it. She had found out that she’d somehow contracted the disease and needed a scapegoat, so she came over an forced herself on him. Flip the script, as some might say. After all, she knew he didn’t believe in female on male oral copulation, because she had tried it several times before only to be rebuked. But she had caught him slipping the other night. No wonder she had been so overly aggressive in taking his seed.
That bitch as hoe! What kind of promiscuous skank had he allowed himself to get involved with this time? Any woman who would swallow his seed was capable of any other number of sexual depravities. Shit. Now he was going to have to call Dr. Sterling’s office first thing in the morning and make yet another appointment. Until then, he needed to hang up with this hoe and get online and look up gonorrhea Thank you God for Google.
He could feel the anger inside of him begin to surface like boiling milk right before it over flowed.
“I gave you what?”
“Diarrhea,” she reiterated. “You heard me! What the hell was in that mess you feed me?”
Diarrhea? Quick inner sigh of release. Whew! He almost smiled, would have too, if not for the fact that she had just called his food ‘mess’. His temper had already reach chemical mass, so he was grateful that she was still giving him an outlet where as to unleash it. He’d spent the entire day preparing that meal.
“MESS!” he shouted back into the phone.
“You heard me! I damn sho didn’t stutter! I’ve been on the fucking toilet shitting all day!?
“Well, what did you have to eat today, maybe that what got you sick?”
“I didn’t have a damn thing to eat today, mother fucker! The last thing I had was that rancid shit you feed me the night before.”
Who the fuck did this heifer think she was, calling his house with all this drama? Didn’t she know that this was his castle, and he would defend the sanctity of it with all the verbal prowess he could muster? “Okay, the first thing you need to do is stop yelling at the me! And I got your motherfucker in my back pocket!”
“This is my mother fucking mouth and I’ll use it any way I mother fucking please!”
“Well, I don‘t give a care whose mother fucking mouth it is, D'Alene! Don’t be calling my house with all this mother fucking bullshit, okay?”
“Bitch, are you fucking kidding me! I had to call in sick today, because you don’t know how to clean a fucking chicken? Probably infected my ass with all kinds of salmonella and shit ! Don’t tell me what to do!”
Did she just call him a bitch?
“It took me all day to figure it out, but once I finally was able to get my black ass safely off the toilet, without shitting myself, It came to me! Yeah, it damn sho‘ did!”
“Figured what out? I ate the same chicken you ate and I’m perfectly fine. As a matter of fact I..."
“I don’t wanna hear that shit!” she said, cutting him off.
“Look, you are not gonna call my house and just talk to me any kinda way. How the hell do you know you didn’t get sick from something you ate before you came over here anyway?”
“BECAUSE I DO!” She screamed it into the phone so loud that Edward had to remove it from his ear to prevent her from blowing out a drum. She was being irrational and you can’t argue nor have a reasonable conversation with a irrational person, let alone a woman. Damn, you’d have thought he given her AIDS or something. Was it really that serious?
He was actually kind of sorry she had been sick and hoped it hadn’t been from his cooking. He wanted to be chivalrous and offer to come over and take care of her. Bring he some soup and crackers, a bottle of Sprite or Ginger Ale.. The thought even occurred to him that he could call in to work and tell them he was not going to be able to come in tonight, but she had put him on the defensive. Made him feel the need to protect himself. But in all honesty, it was hard to stay angry during a phone conversation, especially one as foolish as this, so he could feel his anger beginning to dissipate. If he had made her sick, which he doubted, she had every right to be mad. Maybe not as mad as she was , but mad nonetheless. Hell, he’d gotten angry for less.
“Look, Dee, if you’d just calm down. I’m sorry if I made you sick. I really don’t think it was my cooking that did this too you, but if you want, I can come over tonight…”
“Are you fucking kidding me! You almost killed me with that shit you feed me last night and you wanna come over? You must be smoking!
And just like that, it was back. His anger, rising like a phoenix from the grave. He had not only just apologized for something he still wasn’t sure was his fault, but was offering to come over and take care of her and she just spits it back into his face. Oh, HELL NO!
“Look here, D’Alene, “ he started to say but was cut off by her now shrilled voice. You think the woman had never been sick before, let alone had a case of diarrhea.
“No, you look,” she screamed into the other end of the phone. “I made myself a doctor’s appointment for first thing in the morning. If it turns out I have food poisoning, I am going to sue the fuck out of your ass!”
“What!?!”
“You hear me, you punk as bitch. Expect a copy of my medical bills in the mail!”
CLICK!
Click?
No this bitch did not just hang up on him! He hated that shit. He could feel his body shake with rage, he was so pissed. He resisted the urge to call her back. Resisted even harder the to urge to drive over to her house for a face to face confrontation. He could see the time displayed on the digital clock on his oven and realized it was almost five o’clock. Almost five, well past the time he would have normally shut it down and now he was going to be entirely too anger to fall asleep. His anger had overwhelm the drowsiness he had experience earlier.
FUCK!
