Grown Folks' Tales

By Rai Hill

Wouldnt it be refreshing to pick up a story and be able to visualize and relate to one of the characters? Whether it is their age, physical appearance, or just what theyre going through on this ever-changing path we are all traveling on called life. As mature adults, we are still fully in the game of love, life, and lust and not to be written off just yet. We are never too old to experience self-discovery as we mature, whether youre in your forties, fifties, and even sixty and onward. We dont have a sexual expiration date. Especially with this little blue pill that discreetly seems to be systematically making the rounds. Its okay that ones latter years may be when a person discovers the joy of intimacy. We dont all automatically slow down sexually. Our sexual appetites dont always diminish or poof and vanish into thin air. Our carnal desires and pleasures cant all be wrapped up nice and neat and then be placed on a shelf to gather dust and never to be opened again.

It is at this time in our lives that most of us have experienced life and all the different flavors it has to offer. I like to refer to it as the seasonings. I believe variety truly is the spice of life. Learning to love and embrace who we are and understanding that one size really doesnt fit all. The path to ones happiness may not be a traditional path. Let me be your tour guide as I pull back the curtain so that you can get a brief glance at a few of the many paths that can lead to happiness. These reflections are the inspiration behind Grown Folks Tales.

Thank you and enjoy,

Rai Hill

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 30, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524542238

Rai Hill

Born and raised in Detroit, Rai Hill now lives on the Eastern Shore, happy to call Baltimore home. She started putting pen to paper as a young schoolgirl. Her stories are often inspired by music. When she’s not writing, she can be found rummaging around the local antique shops, looking for her next great treasure. She’s a hopeless romantic who believes that everyone has a twin flame. Her vivid imagination and love for fantasy has culminated into a collection of short stories that she hopes will captivate anyone who loves a little spice in their lives. She invites you to visit her at [e-mail] to learn more about her.

Book preview

GROWN FOLKS’ TALES

RAI HILL

Copyright © 2016 by Rai Hill.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2016915037

ISBN:       Hardcover       978-1-5245-4225-2

                 Softcover         978-1-5245-4224-5

                 eBook               978-1-5245-4223-8

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 09/28/2016

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Contents

Acknowledgment

Author’s Bio

I   Grey

II   The Encounter

III   Caribana

IV   Queenie Crosses the Street

V   A Baller’s Tale

VI   Brandi’s Edibles

Acknowledgment

If I’ve forgotten to mention anyone in the next few lines that I’ve written, just know that I silently thank each and every one of you for all your words of encouragement. I want to thank some very special people in my life. Without them, I would still be struggling to figure out whether I wanted to write, publish, and most of all, share my stories with other people. I love them for their beautiful, open minds and for slamming the door when all my doubts came rushing into the room.

Mom, thank you for always being open to discussing any and every topic under the sun. Charita, I want to thank you for taking me to the store and giving me that swift kick I needed to finally buy my laptop. Thank you for making sure the household ran smoothly while I was off pursuing my dreams and all the countless things you continue to do. Dee Dee, yeah, I don’t call you that, but you insisted. Girl, you’re my slow-reading, proofreading little sister, but you did it for me, and I appreciate it. You have a great eye for the details. Keep chasing your dreams; they’ll all come true. Teri, my sister from another mother, you helped me in so many ways; I can’t even begin to tell you how much I love and appreciate you. What’s our motto? Scoot over while we’re waiting on our bail money. You’ve always had my back, and I’ll always have yours. Lin, this is for you, and this is not a Harlequin romance novel. TS Madison Hinton, even though I’ve never met you, your words have always rung true for me: Step your pussy up. I needed that encouragement from one woman to another. Thank you, Elliot Bratton, my editor. You made this a smooth-flowing project, and thank you for letting me pick your brain. Last but not least, Tim, my twin flame. Every time I think about picking my marbles and jacks up and leaving, you grab my hand and convince me to play another round. You are my muse. Our story is still unfolding and writing itself. As you can see, my circle is small but tight. All of you should know this by now. Even when it’s up on blocks, we’ll be standing, pointing, laughing, and still loving one another.

Most importantly, I’d like to thank everyone out there who decided to take the time out of their busy schedules to read my book.

Author’s Bio

Born and raised in Detroit, Rai Hill now lives on the eastern shore. Happy to call Baltimore home. She started putting pen to paper as a young schoolgirl. Her stories are often inspired by music. When she’s not writing, she can be found rummaging around the local antique shops looking for her next great treasure. She’s a hopeless romantic who believes that everyone has a twin flame. Her vivid imagination and love for fantasy have culminated into a collection of short stories she hopes will captivate anyone who loves a little spice in their lives. She invites you to visit her at [e-mail] to learn more about her.

I

Grey

All morning long, she had felt anxious and couldn’t quite put her finger on why. She went back over her responsibilities in her mind. The kids and the bills? Nope, everything was in its place. She paced around her bed, thinking. Then she stopped, feeling sure that she had taken care of everything. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Shake it off, girl. Nothing’s wrong. Nothing’s going to go wrong, she told herself. This was her Friday, and she always looked forward to it. She looked forward to dressing up and doing her makeup and putting on the finishing touches with her favorite pieces of jewelry. She had left the city for the quiet, solitary life, but still, every once in a while, she liked to venture out to be seen and noticed.

She went into the city one Friday out of the month to meet up with her best friend, Pam. Pam was the only person from her past she refused to cut ties with. Pam had knowledge of most of her past transgressions. She knew where all the skeletons were buried and the pain and hurt they had caused.

The most important reason for these trips was to observe other people’s comings and goings in their daily lives. These people unknowingly had been muses for some of the stories that she had written. She was a voyeur, eavesdropping into other people’s lives. She arrived at the bar a little earlier than her friend did. She very rarely traveled with a notebook and pen. She didn’t want to draw the attention of those she would be studying. She noticed that when she carried certain items, such as laptops, notebooks, and recorders, people tended to start acting as if they were putting on a performance for her, Nicola.

He was in his office, sitting comfortably in a chair with his legs crossed and feet up on the desk. He looked around and smiled; he felt great—no, better than great. He felt at the top of his game. Time seemed to have gone by in a blink of an eye. His surroundings showed how far he had come up in the world. He had left a much darker world behind. He had all the money he wanted at his disposal. He was fifty-two, yet the one thing that had eluded his grasp was love. Women had never been a problem or in short supply for him. Pleasing women had come naturally to him, especially mature women—when he was a young man, they had taught him everything he knew about it. Women had flocked to him since he was a boy. It never mattered to them if he had a dime to his name or thousands in his pockets. Yet he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was missing. He would have never acknowledged this back in the day. He was older and wiser now. But he wished he had experienced falling in love, wanting that one person so much he needed to breathe her in continuously, insatiably. He wondered how it would have felt to give himself, body and soul, unconditionally to a woman. He had never been there to give a woman whatever she desired emotionally and sexually—when she needed it and even when she didn’t. He shrugged his shoulders and thought that perhaps the opportunity had presented itself, but he had been too preoccupied with making money at that time to even notice. It was such a gray area in his life. He shook his head and laughed out loud. He realized he had lived up to his name: Grey.

* * *

Nicola and her friend had settled in, sitting comfortably in their booth. They relaxed into familiar banter in between sipping on their drinks. Nicola nursed on her usual white Zinfandel, and her friend drank a Long Island iced tea. They caught up on all the things important in their lives: grandkids, kids, the latest movies, and what stories were making the nightly news. Every once in a while, she caught glimpses of some men checking her out. She gave each of them a quick Thanks for noticing, but I’m not interested look. She considered herself a master at scanning the room and listening to other conversations without actually being noticed doing so. Then she realized that someone had been observing her, so she stopped speaking. Pam was so used to Nicola stopping in the middle of a sentence to observe her surroundings or eavesdrop on other people’s conversations that she automatically waited for her to let her know what she had spotted. Nicola quickly glanced around the room once again. Her eyes were darting back and forth, but she didn’t see him at first. She turned back to her left, looked toward the bar, then quickly realized that there, behind the bar, a man was standing and observing her. From his stance, Nicola could tell he had been watching her for quite some time. He was staring into the mirror behind him, but he was definitely looking at her.

Nicola was not that shy little girl she once was. Now fifty, she was not ashamed to look back and meet his gaze. Their eyes met, and they both nodded slowly, acknowledging each other. She picked up chatting with Pam again but glanced up every once in a while, just to see if he was still there. He was still watching her intently from behind the bar. She made a mental note that he didn’t seem to be the least bit embarrassed in her discovering that he had been watching her. She stopped her friend in the middle of the conversation and said, I see a man that needs to be in one of my stories.

Pam followed her gaze. Oh yeah, I’m a fan.

He was about six foot two, and his skin seemed as smooth as dark chocolate. There was a small scar on his face that blended in almost perfectly, so it was barely noticeable. A light-gray shadow of a beard and mustache was the only thing that let them know he had matured like a fine bottle of wine. His head was shaved, and they figured he’d had it done recently because they could see a slight shape-up line around the border of his scalp. Even from the back, they could tell he had taken care of his body. He had a beautiful natural physique, not one that was manufactured by constant gym visits. He wore a black cashmere sweater and a pair of tan dress trousers. Finally, he smiled as he wiped out the same glass he’d been wiping for the last five to ten minutes. His smile was beautiful, and it was at that moment Nicola realized that she was smiling back invitingly. It was also at that moment that she made up her mind she’d be returning sometime in the future without her friend, yes, to see him.

Grey saw that both women were looking at him. The taller one had caught his attention. She was obviously sitting with someone she’d known for a long time because of their relaxed demeanor. They both looked up and were staring at him. He noticed and became a little nervous. His hand was shaking, and he realized he’d been wiping the same glass for more than a few minutes. Why am I nervous? Grey silently asked himself. He had owned this bar for over fifteen years and worked the counter during the busiest hours more times than he could remember. Her gaze was making him nervous like a schoolboy who realizes for the first time that he has a crush on a girl. He couldn’t quite figure out whether he was sexually aroused because he liked what he was seeing, or was it something else, something more? It had been a while since he’d held a woman. Every now and then, she would break out into a laugh and smile. She had the deepest dimples, and when she found something really funny, her eyes sparkled brightly.

After about an hour, she and her friend got up to leave. Nicola didn’t look back because she didn’t have to. She knew she was coming back. Grey came from behind the bar to bus the table where Nicola and her friend were sitting. Just as he got to the table, he dismissed Jake, the man who usually did this job. Grey wanted to breathe all of her in—that intoxicating smell she left behind. Grey quickly picked up her linen napkin and put it to his nose. He took just one sniff of the napkin Nicola had been using and quickly put it in his pants pocket. He decided to hurry up and finish before anyone noticed the bulge in his pants. As Grey headed back to the bar, he yelled without turning around to his old friend Jackson to handle the rest of the night and lock up. Then he headed upstairs to his apartment.

On her drive back to her home, Nicola realized that she had been driving on autopilot and thinking about him. She became aware that her legs were twitching in anticipation. The drive home tonight seems to take forever, she thought. Why am I feeling so anxious? It was because she couldn’t wait to get home. Nicola tried to remember if she had ever felt a sexual urge this strong; she hadn’t. She couldn’t believe how aroused she was. Her panties were wet as if he had actually touched her. Tonight was one of those nights that she was glad to have the house to herself. She quickly opened the door and turned off the security system. She kicked off her shoes and forced herself to calm down. She knew she wanted to slow down and savor the moment. Nicola turned off the lights that she had left on earlier in the evening. She didn’t like coming home to a dark house.

She went up the steps slowly, and as she entered her room, she started to undress, leaving her clothes and underwear in a heap on the floor. She imagined him sitting on the end of her bed, watching her as she walked toward him. He had already flipped the cover back as an invitation for her to get in. Instead, he grabbed her waist, guiding her to stand in between his legs. She placed her hands instinctively on his shoulders. He took his time and rubbed her body, starting at the shoulders and working his way down. His hands gently brushed up against her nipples. She was already so excited that when he took one of her nipples and put his lips over it, a moan escaped from her mouth. He had a strong but gentle grip around her waist. With his left hand, he brought her a little closer. He looked up at her as if searching for something in her eyes. She had already lost herself in the sensations she was feeling. Suddenly and gently, she gasped again as his fingers gently rubbed between her legs. Nicola opened her eyes when she realized she actually moaned out loud. She hadn’t realized that she’d already climbed into her bed and beneath the covers. She wondered if she was feeling the effects of the wine she drank earlier. She knew that his face and his body were the only ones she would be fantasizing about tonight. She touched herself and started working toward the release that her body so desperately craved. Nearly there, she arched her back, and her toes curled up as she climaxed and yelled out into the night. She collapsed back into her sheets, and one last thought crossed her mind before she drifted off to sleep: Damn, I wish I knew his name!

Grey climbed the steps at the back of the hall and unlocked his apartment door. As he closed it behind him, he felt so glad he had spent that extra money a few years back to have the upper floor soundproofed to block out the noises coming from the bar below. He walked toward his bathroom at a somewhat urgent pace. The first thing he wanted to do was shower and get rid of the smells of the bar. He wanted to be able to smell her and only her. He took off his shoes and socks, leaving them in the hall. As he entered the bathroom, he pulled his sweater over his head and then removed the rest of his clothing, placing it all on a hook behind the door. He had left the bathroom light on because he didn’t like the apartment to be completely dark when he came upstairs. If only he knew how much they had in common. He examined himself in the mirror. He was completely naked, and his body glistened with sweat. He reached back and carefully removed the linen napkin from his pants pocket, treating it as if it were a fragile piece of tissue paper that would disintegrate at any moment and slip through his hands. He closed his eyes, put the napkin up to his nose, and inhaled slowly and deeply. He fantasized that the napkin was her panties and he had just taken them off her. He knew she wasn’t there, but he just couldn’t help himself. Imagining she had already gone into the shower to wait for him, he looked down and saw that he was fully aroused. He gently put the napkin in a cabinet drawer next to his watch. He licked his lips in anticipation then went over and opened the shower door before turning on the water. As he stepped into the shower, he pictured her face, saw her looking up into his eyes. She was smiling with those deep dimples. He looked at her, fully taking in her body. She had the shape of a real woman—thick in all the right places, and her breasts were full with large nipples. Her ass was round and thick. He smiled to himself. A while back, he had installed a steel bar on the other side of the shower wall to hang his wet washclothes after showering, but right now, he was using it as a support with his left hand. He lathered his body completely, making sure to get every crevice and wishing it was her hand touching him all over. Then he began masturbating frantically, urging himself to release the pressure that had been building up since he saw her earlier tonight. As he felt himself coming, he hollered out. His breathing slowed, his legs felt heavy, and he bowed his head and neck under the showerhead, letting the hot water wash over him. Then he looked over at the cabinet drawer, already knowing he would use her napkin again tonight. He was determined to know her in every way soon.

Grey had come downstairs earlier than usual. He had always been a night person, even when he had been out there in the streets years ago hustling. It was a hard habit to break. Normally, he would have slept through most of the day, letting the daytime staff handle the business. His daytime manager, Jean, had known him for at least twenty years and had been employed by him for thirteen of them. On several occasions long ago, Grey had satisfied his carnal curiosity about her, and they had remained friends. Jean had proven to be trustworthy and discreet both with his business and personal life. Is something wrong? You’re up early, she asked him.

Being up with the rest of the city during the daytime did not suit his mood. It left him feeling a little off-balance. The staff was surprised to see him. Normally, if he was