How’d you get that scar on your back? : Part 1 of Short-story series

Dallas, Texas – affectionately known as “the New York city of the south”. This’ll make my 3rd city in 7 nights. Gotta hand it to Keisha, she had a knack for finding me the best gigs. Her contacts in the biz afforded her the ear of some influential people. If it wasn’t for Keisha I wouldn’t be on the undercard for this open mic tour; 4 comics, 1 r&b artist, and me… a poet. It’s the kind of regional tour she saw a lot of in Germany, she was right to think it’d take off here in the states. Not every promoter is brave enough to book us but the ones that do are quickly assured with sell out shows. We had a day in the first week to freelance, a night between shows kind of thing, in Austin. They asked us to work that night too. Suffice it to say, Keisha’s clout got me on the ticket of this comedy tour in the first place so when she asked me to accompany her for a shindig out in DeSoto (a suburb of Dallas) I couldn’t resist. We were tight like that. Me and Keisha go back – waaayyy back. Not like that but like that. Never crossed the line but we’d always flirt with each other. In fact, we were each other’s biggest cheerleader. She always said, “its rough in these streets pimpin’, no one cares about ya problems. If we don’t boost each other ego who will?” Suit and tie event. Good thing I brought my sundays best. One thing I know is Keisha has great taste. There was no way I’d let her down and show up to this shindig underdressed.

-(knock on the door) “That must be Keisha.”

-(Unlocking & opens door) “Delane, you gotta stop opening doors all willy nilly… what if I was a thug tryna hit a lick? Better guard ya grill playa”

-The look on my face told her I was in no mood for her fussing, “Keisha if you were a thug we’d be in a knock down drag out fight right now. Besides, you used the secret knock so I knew it was you big head.” She hated that nickname. “Matter of fact, you’re only supposed to use the secret knock in dire situations, you’re practically giving the secret away.” She can’t stand when I give her crap right back.

-(long side-eye pause) “Look at you, still not ready? Come on old man, you losing a step. We used to party 6 days a week and do pt in the mornings.” Keisha said, rummaging through my belongings looking for the remote.

-(steals glances) “Listen, I can’t stay out all n….”

-“Aren’t you going to compliment my outfit?”… Keisha interrupted with interesting timing.

-“Keisha, you look stunning. Good enough?” I say with a sheepish grin, my last little jab for the verbal assault she launched.

She knew I kidded. I couldn’t help but notice how out of my league she was. From head to toe. Keisha painted her toes red blending with her honeycomb skin tone, wearing heels that show them. The sequin dress she wore hugged her unapologetic curves and butt. Keisha has always been oddly reserved and modest. Plenty of cleavage to spare and put on display but I can’t remember ever seeing her flash her cleavage. It’s the kind of thing that I admired so much about her. A virtuous woman. Her shoulders are slender and fitting to the dress. She makes no apologies for the hips and thickness though. It’s crazy, chick has run a 10 minute mile and a half since basic but she’s built like a stallion. All that and no kids. Go figure. She knew I liked her toes in red, as many times as I massaged her feet in the dorms she seemed to enjoy that i enjoyed her feet. They were soft, but being mixed with black & white she also has the infamous “white woman pinkie toe”!!! If you don’t know you better ask somebody.

-“Delane, are you dressed yet? Let’s go before you fall asleep” says Keisha, pretending to fix my tie leaving me the impression she can make me better. She’s a nurturer at her core.

-“Hush, before I take my sleeping pills!” (Door closes behind them)


Keisha stopped traffic. We walked in this function like we were the guests of honor. If I didn’t know any better I’d surmise she orchestrated a spotlight for our entrance because she had all eyes on us. Introducing me to every cheek she kissed. At this rate I’m just standing and cheesing for every 2 feet she moves between guests. Oops, oh my goodness… Keisha just grazed my hard-on 🙈🙈🙈 .

(Delane whispers in her ear, heads to the bar ahead of her). Keishas voice reaches for my silhouette as a stride across the floor towards the bar….

-“Delane, be a dear and fetch me a mimosa will ya hun?”, Keisha says with a smile and the slant in her cat eyes. She took pride in not wearing make-up. I always stressed to her she didn’t need it.

-“Ok babe!” I said, knowing that’d make her pause. Didn’t stay for her reaction, sure it was priceless.

I was off the to the bar. This was new for me. Usually, by the time I walk in and meander to the bar I’ve come up with the alternate identity I’d use that night. Yes, kind of like wedding crashers. No shortage of ideas, in fact my problem is I cant pick which character I want to do. I knew what drink I wanted though. “What’ll ya have big fella?”, the cute bartender says. “Crown & coke is all that I’ll entertain,” slipping her cash all smooth like Billy Dee William’s would do. Good ole Crown. Sure to get me where I want to be. Didn’t take long. I feel a gentle touch on my triceps.

-“Damn papi, you must work out?” Says the choosy lady. First thing I noticed was her soft touch. As I adjust in my seat at the bar I begin to turn and face a gorgeous Latina with succulent lips and green eyes. She don’t know it yet but I’m going to marry this woman if her feet are nice-looking and she can cook.

-“Just pushups and plank, no biggie. Sometimes I try yoga but I don’t think I’m doing it right.”

-“Well you’re in luck, I’m a yogi. Pleased to make your acquaintance, me llama es Samantha… y tu’?”

-“Samantha, you can call me whatever you want just don’t call me Shirley.” Oh my, that laugh of hers endeared me to her.

– With a lion’s portion of passion in her eyes, “How about I call you in the morning to let you know I made it back to my hotel safely?” Damn Samantha, you’re bold and I friggin love it.

– (this is me keeping my mouth closed as to not mess anything up) I pause to catch my breath. Panting in anticipation of her next words…

-“Whats the matter senor? La gato tiene la lengua? ”

-“Si mamacita, ahora que?”

(Samantha grabs my hand and leads me to her room. Could’ve swore I heard someone call my name. I’m too smitten to turn and look. I’ll have to catch up with Keisha for breakfast.)


After having the pleasure of seeing Samantha sashay in front me with enticing hips all the way to her room, and the way she steals chances to pinch, bite, or kiss me when people aren’t looking, it’s safe to say foreplay began 15 minutes ago. Samantha pretends to need help opening the door. My endowment reaching for, flexing between her ample buttocks. Her heat seeping through the seams of my slacks. The door couldn’t fly open fast enough!!! We lost it, we lost it for each other. Lock the door? That’s a distraction, we were laser focused on each other! Undressing each other, sharing the same glass of wine, maintaining eye contact. Her hands grasping at my shoulder blades. Then it hit me…

-“Whats this? Is.. is this a scar on your back? Oh no papi what happened?” Samantha cries.

-(Delane searches inside) “I usually don’t like to talk about it, but… “

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