"Have you ever loved somebody
Secretly loved somebody who didn't know
Have you fell in love with somebody
Deeply loved somebody who didn't know…"

Zhane – "Crush"

Erik N'Jadak Stevens-Udaku was accustomed to being the coach and not the player when it came to pursuing women. He had lived with Disa in a purely friends-as-roommates situation for six months, but when she mentioned going back into rotation in a threesome, he became pressed like a panini.

Working through his father's journals had pushed him into a decades-long epic Black History re-telling that he wasn't prepared for. The emotional depths and psychic torture his father suffered through had Erik drinking more and brooding over his past. To become a man himself and read his father's words from a perspective removed from his childhood eyes was a mind fuck. The secrets. The lies. The spying. The complexity of the Wakandan civilization had him geeked and disgusted at the same time.

Erik's heart was also torn with his affections for a childhood yearning to meet his paternal family. Years of imagining himself playing with T'Challa or spending time with his grandparents, Umama and Baba Z, played in his head. From his father's words alone, he became fond of his grandmother. She sounded incredible. Powerful. Wise. T'Challa…

N'Jobu had ambivalent feelings about his nephew. His father loved him dearly, fretted about his own son not being able to grow up with him, but there was an underlining tension between how T'Chaka raised T'Challa. It shocked Erik to read that the King of Wakanda abandoned his son at birth. N'Jobu had to look after the motherless child and push the boy's father to even hold him. Show affection. Sing to him. It made the connection that Erik had with N'Jobu even more precious. N'Jobu's love was the world to him. No father had ever loved his son more, according to the letters, symbols, and cobbled together sentences in the journals. His father wrote words of love about him as he rested next to his mother, Califia. How many nights had Erik curled around his mother's belly while his father wrote about him? Countless. All that time Erik thought his father was recording notes about work-related things.

Drinking brought Erik solace. Numbed him to the surges of regret and sorrow that followed him on that journey into the past. Thank God and Bast that he lived with Disa in a home that gave him privacy to weep and gnash his teeth with anger and heavy doses of despair. His father had been so close to succeeding.

The entries about Uncle James burned him the most. Where had that man disappeared to? Shockingly, it took Erik a few weeks to see the truth for what it was. Uncle James was another Wakandan spy. A War Dog. Why else would he vanish when Erik and his mother needed support from their close friends? He had lived a lie with that man. Years of playing video games together. Birthday parties. Family gatherings. Uncle James had been a supportive ear for Erik to vent to when he thought his parents were being unfair about some trivial thing. He was the confidant Erik loved having around. His parents adored the man. He had been loyal. Loving. A cherished brother, just like Uncle Bakari. It was all a lie.

Erik slid the man onto his hit list and drank for weeks on end.

Disa noticed his habits, but she didn't rag on him about it. There were just soft questioning looks. She still gave dinner parties and invited people over, but he noticed she served more non-alcoholic beverages at these events. Talked about drinking water more and staying hydrated.

He struggled with the Wakandan translations until he could locate an obscure linguistics text through a classmate. The online order took a month to receive from overseas. A native Nigandan speaker had put together a lexicon comparison text of East African languages that Erik muddled through. He also bought some language tapes from a Peace Corps volunteer who worked on the border of Wakanda and Niganda.

Erik was surprised at how quickly the language came back to him. He was also surprised at the number of lucid dreams he had about his father during this time. Most of the dreams were snatches of Wakandan conversations Erik had back in their old townhome in Oakland. Hearing his father's cadence in his sleep made him wake up and speak the language out loud. Disa caught him a few times mumbling to himself around the house. Eventually, he could do a passable translation and get into the grittier details about his father's plans. One thing was for certain: Erik would have to locate and study Ulysses Klaue. Online, the man was a legend. He located a private chatroom on the dark web that speculated on the man's whereabouts and plundering. Klaue knew how to be a ghost. It was something Erik wanted to master.

"Mail."

Disa handed him a stack of envelopes before she headed down into the garage to play her drums. When she was out of sight, Erik made himself a screwdriver and sipped in his bedroom. A large envelope was opened first, and Erik gave a deep sigh. His naval officer's training orders had finally arrived. In less than a year, he would pack up and go to basic training, gunning for an unrestricted line officer position. He wanted to focus on tactical missions. His M.I.T. clout and stellar reputation at the Naval Academy guaranteed him a spot in Special Ops once he finished the first leg of his Naval career. He dropped the entry forms on his bed and cleared up an eyesore of empty liquor bottles.

Disa gave him that look again when he dumped them in the garage, but that wasn't a concern once she mentioned seeing a married couple. As far as he knew, she had been celibate, and he was thrilled about that. His stomach used to get tight when they had dinner parties and there were new men brought to the house. He sat around waiting to see who she took into her bedroom, but while he was living there, she had been discreet.

Now she was about to get handled by a man and a woman.

Her laughter stung him when she turned down his offer of giving her some good pipe. The words came out before he considered what they would do, and he blamed that on the alcohol consumption earlier. Her body had him lifted with the shorts she wore, giving him peeks of big brown cheeks.

She left him standing outside her bedroom door and the jealousy he had tamped down on for months after seeing her with Hollis flared up again. He had bomb dick, and she didn't want it. No woman had ever lasted this long denying him sex. Nothing worked on her, not even his dimples and flashy smiles. As much as he valued her friendship, Erik wanted her for more than that now. The time they spent together in the house doing domestic things together—cooking, cleaning, laundry, making meals together occasionally—he suspected that deep down, she probably wanted him too. His joy at listening to her talk while they cooked, having her give suggestions and ideas for his class papers, just being near her as she prayed to Allah or worked her turntables to mix rare grooves… those moments became sublime. She had him by the balls the way his mother had his father. Women like that were rare. Disa centered him. Inspired him. It had to be love, genuine love this time. She was all he thought about all day between classes and lab work. This was beyond a mere crush. He wanted to protect her. Care for all her needs. He wanted to make her proud of him as a man. Whole ass civilizations had been pillaged and plundered for women like her. He'd bring the world to its knees and lay it at her feet. His father couldn't do it for his mother, but he was going to do it for Disa. Erik had to find a way to earn her love and unwavering attention.

He peeped the slick looks she gave him from time to time. Sometimes at her dinners, she would glance over at him and the mask would slip from her face. He would swear that he saw some type of longing there. A month after he broke up with Chloe, he started seeing one of his old rotation baddies again, a little petite thing that he could sit on his dick and spin her around if he wanted, and often did. Disa didn't care if he had overnight guests, so Ashlyn floated through once in a while. After a vigorous session, he strolled naked to his bathroom to pee and spoke to his fuck buddy as he did so. He wandered back to the hall, still yapping with his girl, and Disa saw him. She stood in her own hall across the other side of the house with her head dipped to look at her cell phone after coming home from an errand. Ashlyn's laughter made her look up, and she saw him… naked.

His dick was at half-mast and knowing Disa could see it fully made the blood rush down fast and it rose. Even from the distance between them, her lips parted. He wanted to stroke it for her, had his fingers sliding down to grip the wide head, but Ashlyn bounced in front of him nude and jumped up to wrap her arms around his neck. Erik swept the woman up off of her feet and feather-soft lips joined with his. He carried Ashlyn into his bedroom and kicked the door closed behind him.

"Ready to go again, already?" Ashlyn said, opening her shapely legs wide.

His weight mashed her down into his mattress, and she grunted when he entered her, sheathed and fucking with purpose. His lover moaned and writhed under him, but his eyes stared at his headboard, holding on to the image of Disa's face, her glossy lips inviting, her lush body a treasure that he wanted to discover.

"Erik… like that baby, right there…" Ashlyn panted.

Smothered by his body, she clung to him with her acrylics digging into his back. She broke the skin and he could feel a trickle of blood running across his damp flesh.

"Baby!" she screamed, bucking her hips, taking his dick deep.

"Oh… oh… oh… oh… Daddy… make me cum on your dick!"

Ashlyn bit his chest and he flipped her over onto her knees and stuffed her full.

"I can feel it in my stomach, Erik… God…!"

Her face dropped into his pillow where she tried to muffle her screams, but the headboard slammed into the wall. Disa could hear them. He was sure of it. Long stroking his thrusts, he forced Ashlyn up for air, and she rammed her fists against his headboard to anchor herself.

"Fuck… fuck… baby… fuuuuck!" she shouted.

Her words transformed into desperate whines as he dipped in and out, snapping his hips to make her tight little pussy feel thick manhood. His girth kept her slit open when he pulled all the way out. Snatching off his condom, he stroked his length against her little booty. Disa's open mouth filled his vision, and his orgasm shot through his dick and jettisoned cum all over Ashlyn's back.

"Fuck!" he shouted.

Erik's body shuddered, and he squeezed the last of his release on the lips of a wide-open pussy.

"Damn, Erik. You soaked my back!"

Her right hand played in his cum.

"What got into you?" she asked

Hazel eyes peered back at him.

This wasn't it.

He was tired of fucking randos.

Sex without emotion wasn't hitting like it used to.

"I gotta study," he said, dragging himself off the bed and back into the bathroom to shower.

He sent Ashlyn home and never saw her again.

Eric only had eyes for a DJ who slept in an enormous bed on the other side of the house that they made into a home together.

The night Disa pampered herself and walked out of her bedroom looking like a diva, he vowed to wait up for her. It was a turning point in his destiny. He felt it deep in his marrow. Sitting rigid in an accent chair, he kept one eye on the wall clock, and one ear listening for the front door as he watched TV.

###

The jazz club was a nice change of pace for Disa.

She laughed and drank expensive cocktails with Lonnie and Jeanette. In-person they were even more attractive as a couple, but she felt a closer sexual connection with Lonnie. The excitement of a threesome dwindled down once they arrived at the agreed-upon hotel. Jeanette drank too much at the club, and she raided the hotel suite mini-bar as soon as they began to undress in the room. Sitting on a side chair that they moved close to the bed, Jeanette watched Disa suck Lonnie's dick while she stroked the gray in his curly pubic hairs. The man was packing with that big fifty-year-old meat, and Disa had her panties off and her legs up in the air to take him right away. The man fumbled with excited fingers as he rolled a condom over his erection. It impressed her at how firm he stayed for his age.

"How can you do this, Lonnie?" Jeanette asked with their expected dialogue.

Lonnie ignored the elaborate role-playing and dove into Disa's folds and fucked like he hadn't had good pussy in ages.

"You like this pussy, Lonnie?" Disa purred.

"Oh, baby, she got that deep gushy stuff. Jesus fucking Christ, this pussy is… dammit! Fuck me! That's right, fuck your dick."

"Lonnie?"

Disa heard the trepidation in Jeanette's voice. Twenty years younger than Lonnie, she almost sounded like an older schoolmarm scolding him.

Lonnie hoisted Disa's legs over his shoulders and beat up her walls. The shit was good. Lazy performance, but the meat stretched her out in a way she hadn't been stretched in ages. His head dropped to her chest, and he engulfed a nipple and sucked while he fucked.

"Lonnie, lean back so I can see," Jeanette pleaded.

Disa shifted her body to another angle to help the woman take part in the fantasy they wanted to share, but her husband had other plans.

"Big titty, bitch… good ass pussy… I'ma fuck you all night."

God, she wanted that. Her vulva was swollen and her pussy had a gorilla grip on his stiffness.

"Tell Big Poppa you want him to beat up your snatch!" Lonnie shouted.

The way he said it was supposed to stimulate her. Instead, it made her laugh.

"What's so funny?" he said in mid-stroke.

"Sorry, it's just… the way you said it was funny."

He glared at her.

Disa glanced over at Jeanette and the woman had her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed. This was not the scene she bargained for. Neither of them.

"You know what… this is not working for me," Disa said, looking up at Lonnie.

"Bitch, I'm knee-deep in your pussy. I know you're enjoying this dick."

"I was, but now,… get up, please."

She shoved him away and reached for her panties on the floor. Shimmying into them, she stared at Jeanette.

"Girl, I'm sorry. I don't know why this went left. I can tell you're not enjoying this," Disa said.

"You changed up the vibe, Lonnie!" Jeanette shouted, jumping up from the chair.

"I'm improvising," Lonnie said.

"There was supposed to be elaborate foreplay. You just dived right into her stuff!"

Disa finished dressing as the naked couple continued to argue. She grabbed her purse and slipped out of the hotel room. Reaching into her oat-colored Coach bag, she pulled out a small bottle of mouthwash. She gargled and spit out the used-up green liquid into a restroom sink once she reached the lobby.

They acted like newbies.

Disa had encountered couples like that before. Experienced swingers who had hit a rut, but instead of working on their core issue, they used sex to ignore it. Sometimes an extra partner only highlighted the tension. They were cool just sexting online and having naked video chats. In-person was a drastic dynamic switcheroo. Lonnie didn't want a threesome fantasy. He just wanted to fuck Disa and used role-playing as a ruse to nut in another woman.

She had a Lyft drop her off at her house.

Limping in with sore feet from the seven-inch heels she rocked, Erik was true to his word. He stayed up in the living room. But he was fast asleep. The TV played background noise for him and his snores were cute, with his lips partially open. He really was worried about her.

"Hey, sleepyhead, wake up," she said.

He must've been in deep slumber because several shakes only had him squirming in the chair with his eyes still closed.

"Erik, that chair will hurt your back if you sleep in it—"

"Disa, I love you," he mumbled

She froze.

His grandfather Dante had told her that back in the Spring, and she thought little of it. However, in the dawn's quiet, as the world slumbered on like Erik, the words took on real meaning.

"Why can't you love me back?" he whispered, turning his body in the chair.