Pop Singer: A Dark BWAM / AMBW Romance (42 page)

HENRIETTA

So I told Jong-soo one of my old stories. Something to pass the time with as we traveled to Fukuoka, the island in sight.

Before I had started the black people club at my college, I had noticed that she was always hanging around really rough people. She had grown up in the projects, and her family oftentimes operated businesses that were borderline illegal.

In some cases, they were blatantly illegal.

Prostitution, drug slinging? Definitely so.

And being that we were in frequent contact, both of us had exposure to that kind of lifestyle.

It annoyed me—some of the other kids at school would frequently think that I was not black because I didn’t know that kind of life. I did know it, I just didn’t want to
know
it.

One day, when we were walking back home from class, a guy Latasha knew approached us. He was tall, light-skinned, and had blue eyes, tufts of golden hair. Very attractive. But he was one of those people who thought his skin color
made
him.

Sometimes he could be hotep.

Ugh!

“And how are y’all Nubian queens?” he said to us, rolling down his car window. We were walking a street corner, trying to get off-campus to our cars. Because neither of us could afford to pay for parking, we had to use the local Walmart, and then cross the street, and then walk and walk and walk. This, unfortunately, exposed us to random dudes who liked to hit on women trying to go about their day.

“Get out,” Latasha said, annoyed. She clearly knew the man.

“No,” the man said, “why don’t you get out of here with that kind of talk.”

I glanced at Latasha. She held my hand, and the man said, “You guys lesbian or something?”

I shook my head. Now he was beginning to annoy me.

“Why don’t you get out of here,” I said. “Latasha clearly doesn’t want to talk to your ass.”

“Oh,” the man said. “So we have some sassy lady over here. I get you.”

I rolled my eyes. Some of the local drug dealers could be so ridiculous. And I could smell it off him—the scent of bad weed misting up the air.

I had no problem with what people did in private. If they wanted to use drugs, whatever. But this man was not leaving us alone, and we had not even asked for drugs.

Until Latasha said, “I don’t want your crack anymore.”

Those were some dark days. I never spoke of them again, and Latasha never talked about them. Her crack slinging, snorting days.

“If you don’t get out of here,” Latasha said, “then I’m going to call the police.”

The man scrambled off. Although I was happy with the results, I was not happy about learning what Latasha had gotten herself into.

“He’s just some guy I used to see,” she said. “It’s whatever though. He’s not important.”

As I told this story to Jong-soo, his eyes widened, and he frowned.

JONG-SOO

“I never expected that kind of stuff to go on,” he said. “I’m pretty ignorant of the United States. I’ve never been there. I’ve only been around Asia. So, thinking about what happens in the poor neighborhoods—that’s something I’ve never encountered before, obviously.”

“Life is difficult for a lot of different kinds of people. The media likes to make everyone seem successful and wealthy. But it’s definitely not all like that. If we were all wealthy, then we would all be CEOs or something. It’s really no different than here. You know, I thought Korea was all pop music and fun. That was my ignorance.”

“The more you know,” I said, laughing. Henrietta laughed with me.

We walked around the perimeter of the boat, finding ourselves a seat next to some of the fishermen who were throwing their hooks off the edge.

One of them asked us if we had ever been fishing before, and I said no. Henrietta as well.

He showed us how to hook some bait to the end, and then how to reel and throw a line into the ocean.

I stood behind Henrietta as she hooked up a small fry, and then cast her line all the way down.

“Very good,” the man said. He clapped for her.

“Not bad for an American girl,” I said, smirking. I took the fishing rod from her, and then set up a small bait for myself. With a heave of my back, I cranked my arms, and then—

The fishing rod escaped from my hands, diving into the water.

I turned around, and although the man looked appalled, Henrietta was laughing her head off.

“Not bad for Korean boy,” she said, clapping.

I apologized to the fishermen, who said it was okay, that it was an old practice rod anyway. He was about to get rid of it. Lucky me.

“How much longer do you think until we reach Fukuoka?”

The fisherman lifted a hat from his head, scanning the horizon. “I think maybe about an hour or so more. Why don’t you go wait inside where it’s cooler?”

Me and Henrietta went back to our bedroom, after having looked for Bit-na. She was nowhere else on the ship.

Clearly, she wanted to be away, wanted privacy for herself. Which was fine, because both of us wanted to have spare time to ourselves.

HENRIETTA

Jong-soo placed me on the bed, his hands on my shoulders.

I giggled, lifting my legs up.

“You thought that I was a soft girl,” I said. So many people did, even when I was going to college.

I could remember when people said things like, “You don’t sound like a black woman. Why do you talk so white?”

Oh!

If only I could slap all of those people who thought like that.

I had a hardness in me, a sense of the streets.

I wasn’t stupid.

Just because I came from the suburbs didn’t mean that I didn’t know shit. What went on behind closed doors.

“I wasn’t expecting it,” Jong-soo said. “You have to forgive me,” he said, placing his nose against mine, kissing me along my cheeks. He brushed his fingers underneath my chin, and I gasped. Then he whispered in my ear. “You have to really forgive me. We all have our assumptions about other people. Before you knew me, I was nobody besides a popstar. A singer? That’s it.”

“I guess so,” I said.

Jong-soo brushed his hand now down to my breasts, massaging underneath my bra. He felt underneath my clothes, slowly taking off my shirt, and then my pants. I slinked my curvy thighs and calves out of my pants, and then wiggled before Jong-soo my bosom, my body that needed to be serviced once more.

Some women might have called me out back then for being a “slut,” but I didn’t care.

Jong-soo and I had a connection.

And, girl, when you’re kind of in love, you’ll do crazy things.

And, I did say that I wanted to come to Korea for an adventure.

“Halfway around the world,” I said. “I wanted to leave the United States to come and meet you. I had all of my artwork, all of my sculptures ready to go. Sitting up and waiting in a place back home, a warehouse ready to ship everything out. And I lost it all. I lost it all.”

“Don’t worry too much,” Jong-soo said. “When I have the means again, I’ll get you all of the best kind of equipment money can buy. I promise you. Hold me to it, will you?”

“I’m going to,” I said, smiling. “Now fuck me good.”

Jong-soo undid his boxer briefs, showing me his long and thick cock.

I stared at it, ready for him to pound me.

With my clit throbbing, and my pussy lips wet, he opened up my thighs, and pushed me backwards against the bed. He slid his cock against my canal, filling me up, making me more sensuous and desiring.

“God,” I mumbled. “Send me to Mars!”

We both laughed. That sounded cheesy as hell, but things were getting strange between us, the way our lives were headed.

You needed to laugh a little bit here and there in order to make it through life.

Jong-soo struck me straight in my G-spot, pounding me away, blasting his cock against the center of my body.

I felt a throb start in my clit and then squirted a blast of juice, while Jong-soo pulled out his cock again, squirting my clit with pre-come.

He slathered pre-come over my clit squeezing my clit and flicking it. I groaned, the immensity and enormity of orgasm right underneath my skin.

“Oh,” I said, “oh, oh, oh!”

Jong-soo pounded the center of my G-spot once more, this time dragging me away from the headboard, pulling me down across the bed, my arms splayed to my sides. I screamed, as I felt a rolling wave of ecstasy and pleasure bounce around in my head.

“Having you around is so different than other women,” Jong-soo whispered. “When I used to have others, I would always be thinking of someone else. But with you? I only want you. Only think of you. From the moment I saw you in the house—I had to rescue you, take you away.”

My legs spread even further, allowing the rest of his cock to engorge on my juices, pressing up against my G-spot.

He expanded me all the way, until even my thighs were tingling. I groped my breasts, massaging my nipples.

Then I reached for my stomach, feeling all around and underneath my bellybutton, for my pubic mound, the ecstasy exploding underneath my skin. I groaned, biting down on my lips, exhaling and inhaling, the burn moving through my throat quickly and fast.

“Jesus,” I whispered. “You have me here,” I said.

“I’ve got you,” he said.

I listened to his voice, the intonation, and then felt the tightening of his cock head, his flanged tip expelling more pre-come into me, his load ready to explode against me with a hot and furious passion.

The heat was right at the edge, at the eye of his cock, ready to fall into me, filling up my cavity, making all of me completely enamored with his presence.

I could not possibly think about any other people.

So Jong-soo came, his cock blasting me off with come, my clit squirting juices—

I screamed, and Jong-soo screamed, and then Bit-na screamed.

“Oh my God,” she said.

Jong-soo and I glanced at one another, totally embarrassed. We pulled the covers over our bodies, wrapping ourselves together.

“This is what you guys do when I’m not around?” Bit-na said, her mouth open. “I mean, I suspected it. But… really?”

She walked out of the room, as Jong-soo’s cock pumped inside of me. I groaned, and then lifted myself against him, my cheeks so embarrassed and inundated with heat.

“She shouldn’t have… I guess this is her room too but… I…” I couldn’t say anything. We had completely forgotten about her having access to the place.

Jong-soo and I had been so infatuated with one another. We forgot about Bit-na’s space.

We quickly put on our clothes, Jong-soo’s cock spilling out from my pussy.

“This is so embarrassing,” I mumbled.

“We’ll just have to find her,” Jong-soo said, putting on his clothes.