Confrontation

On the way home, Chris walked into Kevin's barber shop on the lane.

"What's up Chris? I haven't seen you around lately, You stopped playing football on Saturdays?" Kevin asked.

"Afternoon, gentlemen. Yes, Kevin sometimes the rat race does not allow a man with three children and wife, the privilege of playing. I need a haircut."

"What! Chris as long as I've known you, you have been grooming those locks. Is everything all right my brother"? Kevin asked.

"No, I need a new look, time for a change in my life. No more panty government," Chris replied.

The occupants erupted in laughter. However, Chris kept a straight face as he looked at the barber closest to him straight in the face.

"God, intended man to be the head of the house and for too long, we as men have sat back and watched our women carrying the load."

The three men in the chairs whom he knew quite well looked at Chris rather strangely.

"Yow, Chris, have you been smoking? Or you smoked one of those seasoned cigarettes or something?" Bryan who was in chair two asked.

Chris hissed his teeth.

"No, Bryan I was at the shop, looking at my fingernails and I had an epiphany. Wives emasculate men with their tongues and then wonder why the men don't function. We are all married men here and we had many discussions just like this, after playing football."

Kevin chuckled.

"If the women ever knew that we used the post-game session to discuss our issues, they would either want to come to football or stop us from going to play."

"Why do you think Chris stopped coming?" Bryan said and laughed out loud.

"So, what happen to the men who don't function even when the wives are silent?" Kevin asked.

The shop went quiet for a while as if all the men began thinking about the same thing.

"Boy Chris, you damn right. When my woman starts, Mr. Johnson dead like a dog," Bryan blurted out.

"Fudge Bryan, I thought you were going to leave me hanging, But Kevin, when a woman becomes silent, It is their way of killing us slowly. You spend most of the time worrying. My wife has decided to go back to school, and it threw me. I've been working at the garage for almost ten years, covered in grease with filthy nails, trying to provide a living for the wife and kids and out of the blue she just dropped the bomb."

"Chris, you must have seen the signs, a cold shoulder or she had become very chatty and excited about something lately?" Kevin asked.

"Yes, but I thought it was a about a show or a series that she has been asking me to watch," Chris replied.

"Typical," Bryan replied. "You're busy all day, working, trying to do the work and run down clients that owe you for the jobs and she expect you not to fall asleep in front of the television?" Bryan chuckled.

"You are not alone Chris, we are all in the same boat, there are days when I start to watch the news and the next thing, I open my eyes, the place is black and I'm in the couch. However, if Tanya wants to go back to school, support her, but it means she wants to change her circumstances," Kevin chimed in.

"I thought she was happy, but I suspect that I should try and improve myself too. The first step is to carry myself in a way that people would want to do business with me. Who wants to trim the Rasta and unleash the bald head hidden under this hair?"

"I will do it. Image is everything to these young millennials Chris. The days of having the knowledge in your head without the approachable appeal won't bring in the business from the young people that dress sharp and are attached to their devices. Tanya evidently wants to stop sitting behind a stall. So, ditch the greasy overalls, slip into a nice suit, start giving orders at the garage and I bet, business will pick up."

It's a pity, you don't really know the truth behind the locks, Chris thought. However, Kevin was right. The corporate world taught him a lesson and for years he chose to run and hide, but no more.

While Chris waited on Kevin, he scrolled through his phone and found the number of Devlin Munroe.

Ten years was a long time, but Devlin was due an exploration. His fingers trembled over the call button. Chris looked at his watch and wondered if she worked at the same place or had decided to give her all to being first lady to Reginald Munroe.

Chris decided to send a text, his heart began to race again akin to the first day he met Devlin in the copy room and she burned an image of a mature woman that wasn't afraid to teach a young man things about his own body. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach.

"Hi Devlin, this is Chris, can we meet?"

He scoffed at the thought as he hit send. What is the probability that she still had the same number or would even grace him with a reply. Nervously, he waited as he looked at the screen. He released a sigh of relief when the tick turned blue and then he saw the word 'typing'.

His thoughts raced, wondering, worrying what her response would be.

Can we meet for coffee or breakfast?

Her response sent an electric thrill through his entire body. His mind went back to a moment in his youth.

Chris quickly texted back.

Sure, where and what time?

He waited impatiently tapping and staring at the phone.

Chris pinched himself.

"Wake up boy, the woman is just being friendly, and does not want anything from you," he muttered.

It had been a decade since he last saw Devlin, her message made his heart palpitate as he checked his inbox over and over.

'Calm down, relax. if you seem too excited, you will scare her' the little voice in his head said.

Chris took a long four second breath and then released it for another four seconds.

For a while, Chris's mind drifted from thinking about how he would have wanted the encounter between himself and Devlin to be. In his mind he would have been a successful stockbroker on wall street with his own firm in Connecticut, but Devlin gave him butterflies since he met her while he was in university in Jamaica.

Her innocence and the way her hair was worn in a bund, not to mention the warm smile she displayed, made the dog in him howl at the moon on many lonely nights on the dorm. Fast forward ten years later, her surprising text made memories rush back.

The loud ping from his phone brought him back to reality.

Chris Brown slowly inserted his passcode and then blinked slowly.

A smile erupted on his handsome face.

Yes, my hotel has a lovely restaurant, meet me there at 10 and Chris, don't be late. 🤪🤪

Chris smiled. Devlin still had a sense of humor and seemed to have remembered his trait of being late in his former life.

He shook his head slowly.

"Devlin, that was the old me, time is money," he said softly.

He had learned that the hard way in life. Life was difficult and worse being heartbroken during university to work odd jobs to send himself to school. Landing different jobs, even had him stripping in a club. That was a past that he had managed to lock away deep in a vault in his head, but Devlin took a lot to get over, even if it meant dancing and becoming a paid escort.

Chris sighed heavily.

"The past is the past," he whispered.

Meanwhile, in a hotel room way across town

Devlin scrolled through the electronic pages on her phone looking at the man Chris had become.

"Wow, the buff teeth have gone and you look so refined Chris, If I had known that all of this was there ten odd years ago, I would have stuck around," Devlin mumbled.

She felt her shoulders tighten; how could she face Chris after so many years? How could she tell him he had a son that he had never met.

"Ahhh," Devlin moaned rubbing the back of her neck.

The conference was a miracle in the making. As the keynote speaker, Devlin was leader in research transformational leadership in SID states. A single mother and the principal of her own firm. The secret she had carried for so many years had both driven her ambitions but held her back at the same time. However, her bout with cancer last year had caused a shift in her fears. The king-sized bed seemed to swallow up her diminutive body.

Devlin looked at the time and gushed, sigh, "I have time on my hands, breakfast with Chris, tell him the story and then run off to be adored and applauded as a brilliant academic and beacon for women in the Caribbean."

What a life Devlin sighed, while she rested the phone beside her. Her free hand glided over her bodice. Her palms and fingers lingered over her breast and then slid over her almost concave tummy. Her eyelids closed slowly enjoying the feelings and the thoughts of her mind.

Devlin bit her bottom lip sensuously, as her index finger traced small circles on the lace pink underwear just above where her clitoris hid. Her breathing trembled as the circling drone of a finger found its target and loitered over the target area like a kamikaze munition, before descending slowly in concentric circles...the sensations started to cause small explosions in her mind as her body writhed slowly at first.

Her mind ebbed and flowed between what her finger was doing and what Chris 's reaction was going to be. But the stiffness in the neck needed to be released. Her thighs slowly opened as the wetness gradually spread south and her clit peeked out its head. Slippery and throbbing.

Devlin's hip rose slowly as salvo after they found their target. The pink lace disappeared and revealed the dark mat of lush black carpet covering the hillocks. Slowly, her inhibitions of Chris dissolved as the fountain of youth overflowed, cascading as the first waves of pleasure rushed up through her calves and thighs.

Devlin's back arched.

"Fudge, I'm coming."

Her fingers worked frantically feeding the frenzy of sensations...slippery gliding and squelching...trembling muscles as Devlin clasped her breasts squeezing her nipple tight... the pain only made the transition to oblivion nicer... her muscles tightened, and her teeth gritted.

"Uuuummmmhh," Devlin groaned.

The engorged lips clapped around her fingers, just as the handsome face of her youthful love flashed before her closed eyes.

Later that same night

A stiff, dry wind blew across the land. Lonely cacti stood guard as sentries, watching over the once lush garden where moans and screams of pleasure once echoed. A juicy cloud pregnant with rain, past the garden once in a while and drenched it with hydration.

The bed longed to hear the squishy, sloppy sounds of naked flesh or the grunts and groans or honey blonde skin stained by the fingerprints of pleasure. As she read, her mind played, waiting for the cue to scratch her nipple in order to signal the cloud. The video teased her and her ears still heard the woman in the throes of pleasure.

Quickly she walked into the sanctum of her bathroom and sat on the white porcelain with her hand in the black cotton panty. Rubbing gingerly the plump lips of her vagina, a smile crept across its lips as she imagined the curved dark cock. The cacti bloomed as her fingers circled her once hidden clit, feeling the head of the cock rubbing… parting the wetting ravine. Watching him guide the cock was surreal and her eyes were fixated on watching the pink head play hide and seek... her lips wet and willing. She gasped.

In, out, in, out until he was halfway, then out again

Before filling the tight wet cavern...her hips rocked back and forth timidly not wanting to bruise the soft pink inner clam… but his head scratched the right places.... like an athlete's touch the itch was maddening if left unattended and her hips began to rotate… watching his chest her hands pinched his nipples… her tongue eager to lick and suckle them… craving to hear him catch his breath. She wanted to feel his skin close to her as she pulled him close.

Their bodies nestled for a while until the primal urges to thrust and pump took over... it was building, and she could feel it. Her areoles filled out, fuck she was cumming and his pubic hair merged with hers. He was thrusting hard but grinded softly against her pouting clit. He was a maestro at bringing out her inner beast, but when his tongue slipped between her lips, wet heat ignited her fire and the boiler erupted, flickering tongue teased and tortured her body to the point where her head was going to explode

She moaned into his mouth, and she returned his kiss. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she lost control of her hips. She was bucking like a rodeo bull and he was a cowboy holding unto the bridle for dear life plunging deeper and deeper until she heard him moan with pleasure.

He had just hit her sweet spot and she felt him surge and swell, losing his rhythm he twitched, stiffened and he pulled her close just as their eyes made four. Their orgasm entwined in unison as they stared in each other's eyes as they clutched for air.

Tanya jumped from her sleep frantically when she recognized the face of Headley Big in the dream. Nervously, she looked over at Chris with his new haircut. Her hand went under the sheet to find the evidence of the erotic dream. She wondered if she had moaned loud enough to disturb her husband.

Tanya breathed a sigh of relief when she listened to Chris snore softly, lying on his back. Parts of her still twitched as she leaned over and kissed Chris on his cheek. He looked so handsome without the locks. She felt her womanhood pulse, her hand found the waist band of his under pants and teased him to life. Tanya wasted no time to straddle his thighs. Chris released a slow soft moan as his hardness penetrated deeply. Tanya gave a laboured and sweet sigh. Tanya rode the pole like never before grasping her jerking breasts as she released the tension over and over bathing the stubborn shaft with her love sponge.

She never even tried to wonder how and why Chris was so virile and long lasting, but the locs must have been draining his strength all along.