The Wrestler

"I love this show, I’ve seen every episode," I answered when she asked if I wanted to watch The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. 

"Who doesn't?" She laughed and pointed to a poster behind her door that I hadn't noticed. It was the whole cast of Fresh Prince sitting on or behind their film set’s living room couch. 

"Oh, you really like this show," I noted and laughed. 

"A childhood favorite that I haven't gotten over," she giggled with me.

The episode playing was the one where Carlton and Will were locked up and Uncle Phil came down to the station to 'cuss' everybody out. 

"Oh, this is an early season episode," she announced, swinging her legs off the bed, "want something to drink? I'm going downstairs." 

"Adult?" 

"Yes." 

"Rum."

She playfully kicked me in the ankle as she walked out of her bedroom. I sat back on her queen-sized bed to focus more on the show.

I felt myself getting tired quickly, but I couldn't fall asleep. I promised my friend I would hang out today since I skipped out on her too many times. We were supposed to hang out after work three days that week, but I canceled. I honestly had been wanting my bed after my shifts. We were cooks at a pizza parlor downtown and had been for about four years. At that point, we’d met both families and spent every holiday together. She told me her secrets and I told her mine; we were family. So, I felt bad when I ditched her just to sleep because I knew she wouldn't do the same. 

Well, to be honest, it wasn't because I wanted to sleep. I was going through the motions of what I was sure most men went through. 

Horniness. 

And watching sexy-ass, young, Will Smith probably wasn't the best idea. 

I hadn't had a date or a dick in months because... Well, there was no reason other than I was exhausted. I’d become manager recently and it took all my time. From schedules to inventory to customers, to breaking up fights between high school coworkers, I was sleeping before I parked in my driveway most nights. But that didn't stop me from staring at my dry-ass phone wishing I had someone to come help me out real quick… then leave. In that order. I found myself on Tinder, Hinge, Bumble, Facebook Dating, Grindr, you name it. I had a lot of guys hitting me up too, but the only problem was attractive guys didn’t frequent these apps…and the others? Well, I wasn’t that desperate. I guess I was pretty humble, but I knew I wasn’t bad looking. 6 feet tall, had long curly hair, dressed nicely, smelled good, and chiseled abs. I didn’t want to be shallow, but they could at least have a neck when trying to get with me.

So instead, I went home and got under the covers to have alone time with myself and Pornhub if you get my drift. That had been sustaining me for a while, but I didn’t know how long before I needed a real body.

“That was quick,” I stated when my friend came back into the room with two glasses filled to the brim with ice and liquor and a bag of corn curls in her teeth. She handed me my glass of rum and sat hers down on the white nightstand beside her bed, she pulled four oatmeal crème pies out of her bra.

“I could’ve helped you, ya know?”

“It’s fine,” she smiled, “I do this all the time.”

She plopped down next to me, and we started to sip and crunch while commenting on the show and events at the job.

“You know Shelly is sleeping with Julius?” She informed me about our pizza maker and the dishwasher.

“At least someone is getting laid,” I complained, dryly.

“Ooo trouble?” She asked, excited.

“You seem happy about it,” I drank down some of my rum and laid across the bed, “Yes…btw.”

She giggled, “I’m not happy, I just love your hoe stories. It’s been dry lately.”

I stared at her ceiling and groaned, “Don’t remind me.”

“Oh, you’ll be fine,” she encouraged me, “You’re just going through a drought. It happens, especially after a long relationship.

I didn’t answer. My three-year relationship ended a year ago and I still wasn’t ready to talk about it.

She laid down beside me and started staring at the ceiling too, “You’re hot, you’ll be fine.”

“You think I’m hot?” I said in a soft voice, jokingly.

“You know I do.”

I did, she always came on to me when she was too intoxicated, and I always turned her down gently.

We kept staring at the ceiling.

“It’s not the end of the world, it’s just dick,” I smirked, sitting up.

“That’s what I’m saying,” she giggled again. She popped up and went back downstairs. The Fresh Prince had ended and Charmed came on. Another series I was fully into and knew every episode. I wondered if we would sit in her bedroom and watch old TV shows all day or go out to the pool hall or something. There were some good movies in the theater too that I wanted to check out.

She came back quickly with a half-full bottle of Zacapa Rum and a cup of ice. I now knew going out wasn’t in the plans.

“Cheers!” she shouted as she poured some of the rum straight into my mouth.

“I’m just saying head has to be better from a man!” I barked.

“No way!” she retorted.

I don’t know how we got on this topic, but I was fully in and ready to debate.

“Women are probably way more sensual.”

“That’s sexist, men can be sensual!”

She waved me off, “You know that’s a lie!” she yelled.

I laughed, “Whatever.” I gulped down the rest of my fourth cocktail. That probably was a bad idea because I already couldn’t see straight, and it was a struggle to walk to the bathroom earlier.

“Alright, I’m done,” I said, grabbing an oatmeal crème pie to feed the alcohol.

“Lightweight,” she pointed out, “throw me one.” She eyed my smashed pie as I drunkenly scarfed it down.

I tossed her one and we ate in silence until she suggested music. It was almost 8pm and I hadn’t decided if I would spend the night, but I knew I couldn’t drive in my condition.

“Is it okay if I chill here?”

“Of course, why would you even ask?” she responded. She turned on some R&B and started vibing with Erykah Badu. I took off my shoes and laid back in bed. I still had my jeans on, so I wasn’t that comfortable, but it was good enough for the moment.

The chill music filled the room, and I closed my eyes for a second. I was in a real good mood, and it felt like I was falling into the bed. I took my hair out of the top knot it was in and laid back on the pillow.

She put her hands in my hair immediately like she always did, running her fingers down from root to end. She always commented on how beautiful my hair was but this time she was silent, massaging my scalp.

“You, ok?” I asked, opening my eyes.

I caught her brown eyes staring at me, and not in a sisterly way. She did this before. She always came onto me when she was too intoxicated, and I always turned her down.

She took her hands out of my hair and started stroking my beard. This was making me feel things I didn’t normally feel when a woman was present. I grabbed her hands,

“What are you doing?” I questioned, softly.

She smiled and held my hands tightly, “showing you what sensual is,” she whispered.

This whisper made my dick stand up. I was feeling confused but intrigued, embarrassed but fascinated. She was my friend. I never thought of her in that way but at that moment I was incapable of thinking of her in any other way.

She moved her hands down my chest and started to massage me. I concentrated on my breathing because I could feel the anxiety creeping up on me. Dru Hill sang in the background like everything was going perfectly fine. Her hand glided over my hard dick and back up to my stomach. I could feel myself turning red.

“You want me to stop?” she asked, pausing.

I knew I should probably say no but my mouth couldn’t form the words. I looked at her soft lips; her skin was so warm and inviting. I shook my head no because that was all I could muster.

She unbuttoned my pants and helped me take them off gently. She didn’t have to pull my penis out because it was outside of my boxers ready to greet her. Without hesitation, she took the whole thing in her mouth and sucked delicately. I knew I should feel weird, but I didn’t. I had never been with a woman but my relationship with her must have surpassed my sexuality at that moment. Or my horniness had reached a point of no return, and I couldn’t even think clearly.

Her sucking became harder and faster, I couldn’t keep my moans inside. The sounds were driving her crazy I could tell. She started going deeper and I was losing it. She stopped and looked at me. We locked eyes for a minute, she smiled and asked, “Would it be ok if we fucked?”

There was no way I was saying no, but I was super self-conscious about how I would perform. I didn’t answer right away, but she remained patient.

“You can just lay there,” she said with a giggle.

I smiled and said, “Ok.”

She climbed on top and slid me inside her. It happened so fast and felt so good I let out a gasp. I wasn’t anticipating how wet it would be. I felt my eyes roll in the back of my head and my hands gripped the bed. She placed her lips on my neck and started kissing while bouncing up and down on my dick. This was so weird; this was my friend and now she was on top of me.

“Draya…” I whispered her name, my lips quivering.

She bent down and kissed me, “You’re doing so good, Trevor.”

That made me grip her thighs. Draya started riding me harder. Her skin was so soft, I bite my lip as I watched her titties bounce inside her Cardi B shirt. Something that has never turned me on before. She started kissing my neck then returned to my lips. We made out while she grinded on me slowly. We stayed in that position until I grabbed her by the waist and whispered, “I’m gonna cum.”

She got up gently and put my dick back in her mouth, then I released down her throat while my whole body shook with ecstasy.

Draya always came on to me when she was too intoxicated, but I always turned her down.

I never will again.