Boy Pussy 1

I was in love with Storm Underwood.

When you are in love you don't fuck around. No. You go balls deep in love. You feel the skin of love. No lube necessary. You thrust in love. Over and over. Deeper and deeper until your body shutters in pleasure. You climax in love. You don't pull out. Ever. That's what love is. That's how I felt about Storm Underwood.

"Ay you..."


Storm Underwood was looking at me.

He has on a leather D Squared jacket and some ripped up jeans with Timberland boots. He has a man braid at the top of his head but the sides are trimmed down and edged up with a razor. His beard is perfect as though it was created with mathematical precision.

"Me?"


My voice rattles. You ever had bitch in your throat? I mean not just regular bitch. I sound like a white girl from San Francisco all of a sudden. I sound like my parents have a trust fund. I forget where I am. I forget who I am when he looks at me. I become someone else. All of a sudden I sound like my name is Daisy instead of Demarco.

"Yeah, lil' nigga," he tells me, "You. Ain't no one else around is there?"


"No."


"Exactly. Come here."


Fuck.

"Um. Ok," I respond.

I walk closer. Storm Underwood was sex. He was chocolate. It wasn't just milk chocolate either. No. Storm was dark chocolate. His skin had the consistency of velvet. There wasn't a flaw in sight. You couldn't fake shit like that. He was a melanin man, a bronzed beauty, a glowing god and an Amber Adonis all rolled up in one. He was 6'4". His muscles were the things legends were made of. His eyes were almond shaped like perfect ovals. His lips were big like his hands. You know what they said about men with big hands.

I would swallow his nut and use it as a diet plan. He probably didn't even nut. He probably just oozed honey from his dick. I would let him do ungodly things to me. I'm talking Satanist ritualistic type shit. He could do ALL that. Shit, I'd let him fuck every hole I had. If that wasn't enough for Storm Underwood, he could make his own entryways. I wanted to be his personal hole puncher. I wanted to be his portable nut rag.

Just do what you got to do with me Mr. Underwood. I won't say shit.

Just do me Daddy.

"Do I know you? You look familiar"


"I don't know."


Lies. Why the fuck was I lying to Storm Underwood?


"Oh," he responds.

Storm Underwood comes in my best friends Cupid's tailoring shop every Sunday to get his clothes dry cleaned.

Every Sunday I stare Storm down like he was the 2^nd coming of Jesus. Truth is he might as well be because I most definitely wanted to testify on his dick.

"I have your pants ready," Cupid tells Storm, "You want to try them on?"


"Sure do. Thanks man."


Storm had his pants tailored. He's throwing a white party this weekend. Storm heads towards the back and Cupid nearly faints from the slight second he brushed past Storm's fingers with his fingers. Cupid and I have both had huge crushes on Storm since we were much younger. I wasn't surprised Cupid was pretending to faint over the counter as soon as Storm goes into the back.

"He spoke to me," I state, fanning myself at that moment.

"Bitch, fuck words. He touched my hand," Cupid states.

Cupid was used to calling me a bitch. Cupid was a lot more feminine than I was. We'd been best friends since we were much younger. We'd went to high school with Storm. He was best friends with my cousin Malachi back when Malachi was in town.

"Great here comes the rats to mess up my damn day," Cupid says shaking his head.

He's referring to a group of girls that are coming in. They all have sketches of dresses that they need made.

"You got to be nice to your clients bro," I tell Cupid.

"What did I tell you about calling me bro?" Cupid asks me, "I'm a lady. What kind of faggot are you, girl?"


"The kind that doesn't like to be called girl," I respond.

"Ok trade. Go finish up in the back while I take care of these hood rats," Cupid tells me.

Trade was the name of a man who messes around with other men, but no one would know by looking or talking to him. I guess a part of me always figured I was a bit more on the masculine side. I wasn't in the closet by any means. I was gay and proud. I just never really fit into the 'gay scene'. Cupid was my only gay friend and the only reason we got along was we both were into fashion.

I was a stylist and Cupid knew how to sew. I would design clothes and he would make them. This whole tailor shop was just a front until we made it.

"Play nice," I warn Cupid before heading back.

Right now I go to the back and start designing my next outfit. It's an elegant dress for a girl. I'm talking rhinestones armor dress with a long train. No I wasn't designing for a Drag Queen. This was Atlanta. A lot of people referred to it as Black Hollywood. They did it for a reason. People wanted to treat Atlanta like the new Hollywood. When you came out here being normal wasn't just enough. You had to be grand. You had to make a scene. You had to be amazing.

"That's pretty good," a voice says.

I turn at that moment.

My mouth gets dry. Storm Washington is in the back of the store. He just walked out of the changing room and he's looming over me. He doesn't have a shirt on. His pecs are bulky, his stomach is lean and his torso is defined. As he leans over me I smell a natural musk on him. His cologne has deep, masculine tones to it. There is a warmth coming from his body that makes my loins tingle.

"This? It's just a dress I'm working on."


"You design?" he asks.

"Yeah man."


"That's what's up," he responds, "So you know clothes huh? That's good. I need your feedback on these pants. What do you think about them?"


He stands in front of the mirror. At that moment I get religious. I realize there is a God and he is awesome. He heals me when I'm broken, gives me strength where I'm weakened. He will be a merciful god. He has created such a beautiful thing that he lets me behold.

"Praise him..." I whisper under my breath.

"Huh?" Storm Underwood asks.

"I mean; it looks good man. You want your pants to fit like that. Not too tight. Not too loose. Curve around your ass...just right."


What a perfect ass Storm had too. I'm talking tight. Bubble butt.

"No offense man, but I'm not worried about the back. I'm thinking about the front. If you know what I mean," he responds, "What do you think? If you don't mind..."


He turns showing me the front of his pants. There is a bulge there. Nothing crazy but enough to let me know that this man is packing something heavy down there. I adjust in my chair. I swallow.


I get up off the chair at that moment. I walk over to him and pull at his pants. He lets me. I run my fingers adjusting the waistline. I can feel his hard abs pressed against my hands when I do it. They are rock hard. He probably stays in the gym all night making sure that chocolate body is driving the girls crazy.

"Perfect," I tell him examining his pants, "You're on 20."


"On 20. I had a friend back in the day that used to say that all the time," he laughs.

I hesitate at that moment.

"I wasn't completely honest when I said that you didn't know who I was," I admit to Storm, "You were friends with my cousin Malachi back in the day before he moved out of town."


"Malachi Carter, who sold drugs? Malachi, the Mixer?"

It's sad that my cousin was known as Malachi, the Mixer. Back in the day he was a big drug pusher. In Atlanta guys like my cousin Malachi were big deals. He used to hang with Storm who was also a big deal. Storm and Malachi were the Poster boys from the Atlanta nightlife. That was before they fell out over something and Malachi left town. Malachi became legit and Storm stayed in the streets.


"Yeah. I'm Demarco Carter."


Storm opens his mouth at that moment. He seems completely shocked to say the least. He stares at me hard. His eyes get wide.

"Oh quit fuckin' playing, lil' homie," Storm responds shocked and appalled, "You are Demarco Carter?"


"Yeah. I am."


"Ducky Demarco? Big duck lip, little ugly, bucktoothed Demarco who never would leave us alone and used to hide gay porn under his mattress?" Storm asks.

My face gets red. The nickname Ducky was definitely not a good thing. I looked like a goddam duck back then. I guess that's how I was known back then. I remembered when Malachi and Storm found the gay porn when I was younger. I used to think they would clown the fuck out of me but they never really did. They didn't out me to the entire school. They kept my little secret even from my mom. That's when I started falling for Storm. He was always so laid back and cool. He was never judgmental. Not only was he the sexiest man I had ever met, but he was also the nicest man I had ever met.

"That's me," I respond nervously.

"Malachi still getting in trouble?" Storm asks me.

I can hardly concentrate on Storm. He's getting closer. His smile is dazzling. When he laughs his muscles tighten and his pecs jump. It's distracting as fuck.

"Yeah yeah," I respond looking at his pecs, "I mean. No. Sorry. He's um...legit now. He actually just texted me this morning and said he was in town. I'll tell him you asked about him."


"Don't bother. We fell out. Still, I got to tell my sister Tempest that I ran past you. Remember you and Tempest used to date. Wait till I tell her about you. You grew up. She's gonna be surprised you grew into your looks. Shit you not that ugly little kid no more. Ha. "


The fact that Storm doesn't think I'm ugly anymore puts a smile on my face. You would think I'm a little fucking kid by how I react to something so simple and stupid.

"I hear Tempest is a big deal now. I hear you're a big deal too."


I have to keep it real. A big deal was an understatement. Tempest and Storm ran Atlanta.

"I wouldn't say a big deal. We are just club promoters," Storm says, "Matter of fact, we are hosting an All-White party tonight at ATL LIVE. You should come...."


His humility makes me fall in love with him even more. He is so fucking humble. You ever met someone that just has no idea that he was the shit. Like he literally had no idea that I would suck his dick until I got lockjaw. He had no idea that there were girls out there that came to the shop asking for dresses that Storm Underwood might like.

He had no idea that he ran Atlanta.

He was telling me about a party at ATL LIVE as if I didn't know. Everyone knew about Storm's parties. Atlanta was all about the club scene. I don't want to tell Storm that I had designed five dresses for five different girls for his party. Matter of fact for the past 5 years I had gotten most of my money from when Storm threw a party. People literally came from out of town to attend a Storm Underwood party.

"Not really my scene," I admit to him.

I designed dresses for girls who went to these parties. I never attended one of these parties. To say I was a homebody was an understatement. I had no social life. When you had more cats then you had friends your life was officially lame.

I was the lamest motherfucker in Atlanta.

"C`mon man. Tempest is going to be there. Your old girl," he laughs.

He's just teasing me. Tempest is way out of my league even if I were straight.

"Uh...that's not really my scene either."


"What do you mean? Girls?" he asks.

I nod.

"I'm a little different," I admit to him.

"You aren't about to tell me that whole phase with those magazines wasn't a phase are you?" He asks me.

It's awkward at that moment. Storm seems to pick up on what I'm saying.

"I'm gay."


There is a pause.

That's when Storm shrugs, "I don't care man. It's cool with me."


"It is?"


There weren't a lot of guys in Atlanta who were just cool with it. He was shrugging and smiling like he could care less what my sexuality was. That was what was so damn sexy about Storm. Storm was just so...fucking cool. I'd loved him from afar. I'd seen how he would help old ladies across the street. I'd seen him give money to every single pan handler that he walked past on the road. I'd heard about how a lot of the profits from the clubs went back to charitable events.

Storm Underwood wasn't just sexy. He was a motherfucking saint.

"Listen," he tells me at that moment, "I invited you to come. I'm not going to take back the invitation because of who you choose to fuck. That's ignorant---as Fuck! So yeah. Come through! Who knows? You might find a dude?"


He gives me a friendly tap on my shoulder.

He heads back towards the dressing room. I keep staring at him. Storm made me melt. And he was right about one thing. Who knew? I might just find a dude...

~

"Get out of here," Cupid is telling me, "You are like the Gay Moses. You have to go part the ocean so that I can follow you to the holy land."


I guess Storm Underwood was supposed to be the holy land. It is the end of the day and I just told Cupid about the fact that Storm was inviting me to this party. Cupid went out a lot but nothing like this. He went out to a lot of gay bars and things like that.

"I don't know," I respond, "My cousin Malachi is in town. He might want to hang out..."


"No offense. Malachi is fine as fuck, but you can't fuck your cousin," Cupid responds at that moment, "You can fuck Storm."


Cupid wasn't really helping the situation right now.

"It wasn't even that kind of invitation."


"How the fuck do you know?"


"Because he's straight. You know half these girls we make dresses for have dated Storm," I respond.

Cupid shrugs at that moment, "And all of them have said that he didn't fuck them."


"That doesn't mean he's gay."


"Are you serious?" Cupid asks shaking his head, "Straight guys fuck girls. They fuck a lot of girls. Storm Underwood could have any girl that he chose. Look at him. I mean...LOOK at him. He is the human equivalent of Godiva. He should be putting his dick in every Jane, Jill and Janet within a 50-mile radius at all times."


"Maybe he's a gentleman," I respond, "He is friendly as fuck. He comes in here every day smiling. You know Storm isn't that kind of guy."


"Well maybe it's time you go find out what kind of guy he is..."


"The invite was just friendly. He's friendly with everyone," I shake my head, "I'm not going to get my hopes up that I have a shot in hell with Storm—motherfucking---Underwood. This isn't a fairytale and my name is not Cinderella."


"You never know," Cupid states, "Until you go. You so masculine right? So stop being a little bitch and go. What, you going to play with your cats for the rest of your life? You need to get out there. We all know you don't like pussy."


I laugh at that moment.


Cupid did have a point.

Still. At the end of the day I didn't fit into that crowd. I was a loser. I'd always been a loser. My cousin Malachi was the popular one. I was the one who just sat around and pretended like everything was OK when it wasn't.

"It's not really my scene."

There was nothing Hollywood about me...

~



I head home. Cupid closes the shop up for me. I knew that he was living through me. He would probably give anything to have been the one invited to the party.

I head home and open the door. One of my cats Titi runs out of the door. I grab her. Just as I grab her I bump into someone and let out a quick gasp.

"Yo stop being scared all the time," the voice says.

I look up at that moment and see someone. It's a familiar face. He's 6'1". He has tan skin the color of chestnuts. He's handsome. He squints for no reason. He has a smooth face without the slightest bit of facial hair. He has big eyes that are a light brown color.

"Malachi what the hell you doing here?"


My cousin had told me he was in town, but I figured that he was staying at a hotel or something. The fact that he is standing in front of my door with a suitcase definitely comes as a surprise.

"I need help."


"Again?" I ask shaking my head, "Yo---I thought you went legit."


Malachi raises his hands. He does that often. My cousin has a way of dazzling people. It's hard to describe. He had those innocent looking eyes with those thick eyebrows. Malachi had a baby face. He gives me those big huge eyes at that moment.

"I did. I swear. I work for a big pharmacy corporation."


"Pharmacy?" I ask shaking my head, "Malachi you still dealing drugs aren't you."


"Not exactly."

My cousin has a way of raising his eyebrows when he's guilty of something or trying to hide something.

"MALACHI!"

"Listen. I can explain. So I'm not like selling drugs in the way you think. I was working for a company. They aren't exactly the most legit company. They were dealing with some dangerous shit. And I was helping them on a special project...."


"Malachi..."

Malachi ignores me, "Well...something went kind of wrong with the project and I kind of have to lay low for a while...."


"Malachi, look at me," I respond, "I don't want to know. I'm not going to jail. How long do you have to stay this time?


Malachi leans over and gives me a hug. He knows I can't say no to him when he gives me one of those hugs of his. He doesn't answer my question before coming into my apartment with his suitcase. Malachi has always needed help. He's always gotten in trouble.


See Malachi was a chemist. He had amazing talent. I mean at a young age he was creating his own drugs and shit. He was literally a Street Scientist. I spent years trying to teach Malachi how to turn his knowledge of chemistry into something legit. Malachi was the kind of smart that could find the cure to cancer but instead he was creating drugs that got people so high that they thought they had super powers.

"You always look out for me," Malachi states, "You know I love you right?"


I follow Malachi in the house. I'm annoyed honestly.

"We need to set up some rules. Last time you almost burned down my house with your experiments. I don't want you experimenting in my kitchen. At all. Malachi."


"Of course not. I've changed," Malachi says smiling at me, "You'll see. I promise. You know you miss me."


I sigh.

I kind of did.

"I'll make up the couch for you..."

"Couch. You developed a sense of humor Demarco. I like that. You know damn well I'm sleeping on the left side of the bed."

I'm annoyed. We were too old to be sleeping in the same bed anymore. When we were younger our mothers used to do everything together. Because our mothers were so close, Malachi and I had become close. We'd taken baths together. Malachi had taken me to my prom because I didn't have a boyfriend. For years he'd been the only man to sleep in the same bed as me.

He goes straight into the bedroom. The sad part is I already had a designated space in my closet for Malachi since the last time he left town. I hadn't even filled it. Hell... I still had his toothbrush here. I never had a man in my life.

"How do you know I don't got a man now?"


Malachi laughs at the idea, "A man? It's more likely you got another cat. How many are you up to now? 10?"


"No... what the hell do I look like? The cat man?" I ask him, "I just have five..."


Malachi rolls his eyes, "Come here. Closer. Ok. Stand right there. Look in the mirror cous. Look real hard? No. Don't whine. Just look in the mirror. What do you see?"


"A basic ass dude," I respond.

He sighs, "You're not basic. You're special. Look at you. Look at that smile. You got that nice brown skin, those deep brown eyes and that fat booty."


He gives my butt a hard squeeze. I push him back.

"Malachi stop."


"Seriously. If I was gay and you weren't my cousin, I'd wax that ass. You need to gain confidence with who you are. You are about to be 30 and you never had a boyfriend. That's ridiculous. We need to get you out the house..."

Malachi was making me feel pathetic.

"There is this one...party tonight."


That was all Malachi needed to hear.

"Get dressed."


"I never said I was going."


"Who told you that you had a choice?" my cousin asks me raising his eyebrow.

~

The line at ATL Live is ridiculous. We stand on the fucking line for almost an hour. I feel so uncomfortable. I didn't have any white clothes so I had to borrow Malachi's clothes. He was taller and bigger than me so the clothes were a little baggy on me. The white button up is too long and I feel so uncomfortable that I want to tuck it in but every time I try to tuck it in Malachi pulls it out and tells me that I need to stop acting like a Queen.

It's almost an hour and a half before we get to the line.

"Sorry no more fellas right now." the bouncer says when we get to the front.

Thank god. All of a sudden I feel this huge weight. The club is way too crowded and I'm getting anxiety. I start walking back away at that moment but Malachi grabs me and pulls me back.

"Are you serious? We been standing on this line for over an hour," Malachi states.

"See...I got to keep the ratio of dick to pussy even. So unless one of the two of you got a pussy ain't no other men getting in this motherfucking club," the bouncer says.

"You got to be fucking joking me!" Malachi says.

Malachi is getting loud. He can definitely get a little crazy at times when he gets pissed off. I knew his attitude. I knew I would need to calm my cousin down so he didn't start embarrassing me especially being that this was a crowded event with people looking at us wondering what was keeping us so long.

Just at that moment we see this train of white Bentleys pull up.

The bouncer stops talking to us. He is ignoring Malachi completely. Hell...at this point I'm ignoring Malachi as well.

The doors to the Bentleys open.

"Who the fuck are they?" Malachi whispers to me.

That's when I see these girls step out of the first two cars. I count 4 of them. Each of them are fucking beautiful. All of them looked like they were "on 20" as Malachi would say. From 1-10 they were all definitely 20. They know they are the shit too. They know that the entire line of people has stopped talking to watch these four girls pull up to the club.

It was like spotting Jennifer Lopez, Kim Kardashian or any other major stars. You couldn't help but to stare.

"Atlanta High Society," I tell Malachi, "Tempest Underwood, Ebony and Ivory Carter and Savannah Washington..."


Malachi is staring directly at Tempest Underwood. It's hard to really say Tempest is more beautiful than the other girls. Each one of the girls is beautiful in their own way. They all would stop traffic alone. They had bodies like coke bottles and faces like runway models. They made some celebrity women like Beyoncé look like the most basic women on the planet. These four women were on a whole different level.

Malachi sighs, "My dick just got hard..."

They don't even stand on the line. They pull right to the door and walk right in. No wait. No hour long wait. Nothing like that.

As they walk past more guys come up out of the Bentleys. It was clear that this was a different breed of men than we were used to as well. It was Storm Underwood and his boys. They walk up to the club looking like nothing but money, popularity and fame.

"I thought you said no more men were allowed in?" Malachi asks.

The bouncer rolls his eyes at Malachi, "That's Team Underwood."


Team Underwood? The problem with that is that these weren't just normal men. These guys ran Atlanta. Atlanta was all about the club scene. The club promoters were gods out here.

I can't take my eyes off of Storm Underwood. I don't know what gets into me. I realize that I probably won't be allowed in unless I say something to him.

I find myself waving him down.

"STORM! HEY STORM!"


As I get too close, some of his homies block me off in a defensive way. I am probably a second away from getting my ass beat. Luckily Storm stops them.

"Yo...Ducky Demarco," he says, "You coming in right?"


"Actually...we can't..."


"We?"


I look over at my cousin Malachi. Storm and Malachi give each other an awkward head nod as though they recognize each other. Back in high school they were best friends but now it was as though it was just a random guy they knew. There was definitely some negative tension in the air at that moment. I didn't get it.

Storm looks back over at me, "Follow us in. I'll make sure you get in. Make sure you put your drinks on my tab too. I want you to have a good time tonight..."



~



To say the club was crowded would be an understatement. I feel out of place the entire time. I don't drink but Malachi is already tipsy. I watch as he talks a million words a minute to every girl that walks by. I try to pretend it doesn't matter.

There are two floors to the club. The main club was general admission but there was a sweeping balcony across the top.

That was VIP.

Within VIP there was an even more elite area. It was lit up with white lights. It looked like a motherfucking Mount Olympus area in the club. And if the section was Mount Olympus then Storm Underwood and his entourage were the gods of Mount Olympus.

"You been looking up there all night," Malachi states.

I feel bad. I haven't really been having fun. Malachi was right. I was dazzled by anything that was Storm Underwood. There was a girl. Savannah Washington that was up there with him. She was Tempest's best friend. She danced on Storm. I had to turn away. I couldn't watch it. Savannah was gorgeous. She was the kind of girl that Storm looked good with. She was Asian from some exotic island that I probably wouldn't be able to pronounce. Her hair was long and straight. Her body was curved though like she probably had to get it designed in some sort of lab.

"You ever wonder what it would be like to be one of them?" I ask Malachi.

"One of who?"


"High Society?" I ask him.

Malachi laughs, "They are just normal people..."


I roll my eyes, "Nothing normal about them. They are floating over the rest of us. Like fucking angels sitting on clouds and shit."


"Well I guess angels have descended down from the heavens to answer your prayers. Turn around..."


Malachi gives me a nod behind me. I notice that sure enough Storm has come down from the VIP section. He walks over to me. I'm a little confused at first. I think that maybe Storm wants to catch up with Malachi but by the time he comes back Malachi is nowhere to be found. I see Malachi across the club flirting with some girls.

It doesn't stop Storm from coming over to me though.

"Your cousin avoiding me?" Storm asks me.

He's so handsome. The lights hit his dark skin like speckles in dark chocolate Hershey. The white he's wearing is an amazing contrast to him.

"I can go grab him if you want."


Storm laughs, "Nah, lil' homie. I actually came over to talk to you."


"Me?"


"Yeah. I just been thinking about how talented you are. Not even just the designs either. I'm talking about how you did the designs. I can't get it out of my head."


"You like fashion?" I ask.

He raises an eyebrow, "Of course man. You ever design for men before?"


"I design for anyone."



"You got to hook me up man," Storm responds, "Halloween is coming up. I'm trying to come through with a Petty P costume."


"Wait...you like Petty P?" I ask.

"Of course," he responds, "You know who Petty P is?"

The reference was a show that I used to watch when I was a kid.


I laugh at that, "That's was my favorite show."


Storm gives a hard stare as though he is in disbelief, "No one I know has ever heard about that show before. Every time I talk about wearing a lime green suit people look at me like I'm crazy."


"Hell no. I love Petty P. Do you remember the intro song? A pimp named Petty P. Jumping on the Scene. With that Gangsta Lean, Looking Real Mean---"


"In his Lime Green," he finishes, "Don't tell anyone but I got the whole soundtrack to Petty P in my car. I'm not talking about downloaded either. I got the motherfucking cassette..."

We laugh at that moment. Cassette? I'm shocked. I'm laughing so hard that I find myself fucking snorting a little bit. I can't believe it after it happens.

"Shit..."


"Did you just snort?" he asks me.

"No..." I respond.


He shakes his head laughing, "Yo---don't apologize. I don't think I ever heard someone laugh and snort like that before. That was kind of cute..."


Cute? That was a strange way to describe the behavior of another man. This was Storm though. I can't do anything but smile. My teeth are showing from ear to ear.

"Well I'm glad you don't think I'm a pig."


"No just a duck," he laughs.

We laugh again. I'm so into him that I don't realize that someone else walks up to us. It's Savannah Washington. She doesn't know me but I know her. Everyone in Atlanta who has social media knows Savannah Washington even if you don't want to. I watch how she approaches him from behind. She puts her hands on Storm's back gliding them slowly as she eases her breasts up against his biceps. Storm doesn't respond.

"That's why I love you, Storm," Savannah tells Storm, "Always mixing it up with regular niggas."


Her use of the term 'regular niggas' sticks out to me. I stop laughing. I stop smiling. She was calling me basic. She has this snide tone with it. She might as well be wondering what someone like Storm was doing talking to commoners.

"This is my...friend Savannah," Storm says introducing me to her, "Savannah this is Demarco. I was friends with his cousin back in the day."


I reach my hand out to shake Savannah.

Savannah doesn't shake it though. She gives me a smile instead, followed by a brief wave before putting her arms around Storm.

"Stormy. Come upstairs baby. I miss you," she says.

"I was talking to Demarco."


"So?"


She looks over at me. I can see she is confused. Hell I'm confused too. If he had the attention of someone like Savannah, then why the fuck would he care about talking to me. It was just weird. First he said my snort was cute and now he was giving me more attention than Savannah?

"So I'm not going anywhere," Storm says.


Savannah rolls her eyes, "Man whatever."


She walks away at that moment probably headed back to VIP. Storm doesn't take his eyes off of me. I don't get it. Savannah Washington was the IT girl in Atlanta. She was the girl everyone wanted to know, or fuck, or be, or be around. You couldn't help but to stare at Savannah Washington. So why was he staring at me instead.

"You want to get out of here?" he asks me, "Just sit in my car, listen to music and chat? I don't feel like being in here for some reason."

I raise my eyebrow but don't hesitate even for a minute, "Of course."



~

The night passes quickly. We get high and we listen to all this music. We can't stop talking. We can't stop laughing. The world around us just seems to drift so far away.

I was in love with Storm Underwood.

I'd always been in love with Storm Underwood.

I can't believe Storm skipped his whole party to sit in his car. His Bentley is everything. Brown leather seats make the car look like a million dollars. The car smells like him too. I sink into the seats and just feel like I've transformed far away.


"Remember when Petey P walks into that beauty parlor that one episode and someone yelled 'dibs!'" Storm asks me.

"Oh fuck yeah. Petey P was the man."


We start laughing at that moment.

"I never met a gay guy like you," Storm says, "I didn't think you guys liked shows like that. I thought you liked the same kind of stuff that girls liked. No offense."


I shrug, "Not all gay guys are the same. I play football. I like old pimp shows from the 70s. I like Gangster movies. I love videos games."


"No seriously?" he asks, "Man that's me all day."


"You are Storm Underwood," I state, "You throw the best parties in the city. I'm sure this isn't you all day..."


"That's a job," Storm explains to me, "Personally I'm different. I do this party thing but honestly a good time to me is this. Just sitting in a car, smoking with a cool person talking about dumb shit from old shows."


"You think I'm a cool person?" I ask.

Storm takes the marijuana from me. He smokes it. I can't stop looking at his lips. They press the same place my lips were just a few seconds ago. The blunt is still wet with my saliva. It's the closest thing I've ever gotten to kissing Storm Underwood.

He raises his eyebrows, "Man, we spent 4 hours in this car talking. I'm pretty sure by now I think you're dope as fuck. Here. Let's try something."


"What?"


"You ever did a shot gun?" he asks me.

"No..."


"Here come here. So I'm going to turn the blunt backwards so the lit part is in my mouth like this. Now you just suck on the other end while I blow."


The blunt is small. So small. Our lips are only about three inches away from one another. He blows the smoke in my mouth. I inhale it. I just keep looking at him. I just keep looking at those lips.

"You are cool as hell..."


"You are too," he responds, "Man. I have never vibed with someone like this before. It's weird. I didn't even really know you when we were younger. I would have hung out with you a lot more if I knew you were this cool...instead of your cousin."


"What happened between you and my cousin?"


"Kid shit. We grew apart," he responds before shrugging, "You ever wonder if there is such a thing as fate?"


"What do you mean?"


"I mean maybe I was only friends with your cousin back then so that I could meet you now..." he asks.

He's being deep. He's being real deep actually. I don't know how to react to it. Maybe I'm high. Maybe for years I've just been watching Storm Underwood and I can't take the fact that I'm this close to him.

Whatever the reason I take my chance.

I lean in to kiss him.

Storm blocks me.

"Whoa what the fuck?" he asks.

"Sorry I was...I..."


"Yo, I'm straight," he cuts me off, "I thought we made that clear."


He seems offended. Fuck. I fucked it up. I fucked everything up at that moment. I can't believe myself.

"Fuck I should go. It was just when you were talking about the whole fate thing..."


"Wait." Storm stops me, "I'm straight but I didn't want you to leave. That was my fault."


"How?"


"I never vibed with someone like that before. For a minute I forgot you were a dude. I'm getting older man. I'm trying to settle down and it's just like I just wish I had the same chemistry I had with you with Savannah."

Hearing Storm say that should make me feel happy. It doesn't. I feel sick to my stomach instead.

"I enjoyed my time with you too. Guess it sucks I'm not a girl huh?"


He looks over at me. He raises his eyebrows.

"Yeah. It sucks. If you were one..."


"If I were one what?"


He shrugs, "Nah. Never mind. It kind of sounds gay."


"Well you aren't gay so I won't hold it against you."


He laughs for a minute but then looks over at me, "Fuck it. I'll tell you. I was going to say if you were a girl...man you'd be wifey, especially with the chemistry we have. It'd be love at first type shit."


Just at that moment I see my cousin. He was walking up to the car. It's time to go. I look over at Storm. Storm looks at me. Our eyes make this connection. It's deeper than attraction. I've felt it and I know now that it is mutual. I know now that this isn't some bullshit that I just made up all these years.

I was in love with Storm Underwood.

And Storm Underwood was in love with me.

A connection of souls only happens rarely. Once in a blue moon. It had happened now.

"Too bad I'm not a girl," I explain to him.

"Too bad I'm not gay," he responds.

"Another lifetime Storm?" I ask him.

Storm gives me a nod, "Another lifetime..."


~

I cry that night. I feel like a little bitch crying like this over a boy that I don't even know. I feel like a little bitch but the connection that I had with Storm was something that I couldn't explain. You ever know that you belong with someone. I knew I belonged with Storm. I belonged to him. He belonged with me.

But somehow sexual orientation had got in our way.

Somehow gender had got in our way.

"It's him...isn't it?" he asks me, "Storm..."


My cousin knew how I felt about Storm. I'd told him years ago. My cousin moves over in the room. He rubs my back. He spoons me. I was tired of my cousin being the only man in my life that loved me like this. I wanted a real love.

"It'll never happen. I need to let it go...but...he's just my fucking soulmate man. I know that shit sounds stupid. I know I sound soft."


"I didn't say any of that."


"No one gets it."


"It's not for anyone to get," my cousin defends me before leaning up, "You've always taken care of me cousin. You've always been there for me. What if there was something that I could do for you and this situation you are in?"


My cousin leaves. He comes back. He has a bottle with him. I'm confused. I sit up in the darkness of the room and look at the bottle. He empties pills in his hands. They are green pills. I look at the pills and I'm a little confused.

"What are those?"


"Remember I told you I was working on something. This is what I was working on. This is the reason I have to hide out for a while. It's some serious shit. Some shit that a lot of important people want. A breakthrough..."


"A breakthrough in what?"



"What if I told you there was a way that you could be exactly what Storm wanted? What if you could grow long hair in a matter of seconds? What if you could change your dick to a vagina? What if I told you that you could change your gender? Temporarily of course. What if I told you there was a way you could change your gender for a few hours a day by taking a pill? What if I was holding this pill in my hand right now?"


Oh my god.

I look at the green pills.

"Impossible."


"What if it wasn't impossible? Would you take it? Would you take the pill?"

To read the next chapter please go to www.crushedcrown.com