Shereen McKellar
Lovers And Roommates



"I'm sorry I took so long." I apologized, slinging my pink purse over my shoulder.

"Well, it was worth the wait." Ramon responded. "You're finer today than you were at Bertucci's and I didn't think it was possible for you to get any finer."

I commented with a smile. "You're so sweet."

It was 7:00 pm. Ramon was standing in front of the black leather couch and giving me a head to toe inspection. He was looking scrumptious as ever. He was dressed in a short-sleeved navy blue and black shirt, charcoal-colored jeans and black Timberlands. I had on a pink cowlneck blouse that showed a little bit of my flat stomach, tight low-rise jeans and pink high heels that revealed my freshly cotton candy painted toenails. That was the good thing about being a massage therapist at a day spa. You get discounts on pedicures, manicures, facials and every other service under the sun. I wore my honey-brown colored weave like Tamia's in her "Can't Get Enough" video, and my beautiful face was flawlessly done in Mac Makeup. Not to toot my own horn (Toot! Toot!), but I looked good. No music industry chicks or video vixens in any hip-hop video could compete with me not even on their best day.

After locking the apartment door, we headed down the flight of steps and out the door. My eyes got huge when Ramon powered off the alarm to this nice silver four door Maxima that stood in front of the apartment building. For a while I wasn't used to dating a guy who had his own car. Two of the guys I've dated had driver's licenses, but didn't have a car. And the third one didn't even have a learner's permit.

"This car is sick!" My eyes were still glued to the car as Ramon opened the passenger's side door for me. "Bertucci's must be treating you very well. I think I need to put in an application." I said, half-jokingly.

"No. Bertucci's isn't treating me that well. My mother bought this car for my 21st birthday." He inserted his key into the ignition when I slid into the passenger's seat and buckled my seat belt.

"I wish I could fix my mouth to say my mother bought me a car. When I told my mom I wanted a car, she was like, 'You want a car, you better get a job.'"

"Really?" Ramon grinned and turned on the radio. Suddenly “You Know What It Is” by that sexy ass TI filled the car.

"Yes, really. So anyway, when you did turn twenty-one?"

He pulled out the parking space and drove off. "I just turned twenty-one on May 4th."

"Oh, we have a Taurus in the house. I like Taurus men. They’re reliable, romantic and like to please their girlfriends."

"Yeah, I'm all about satisfying my girl. And I'm not satisfied until she’s completely satisfied."

Suddenly it got hotter in Mr. Satisfaction's Maxima despite the cool breeze flowing inside. "Whew! I like that." I managed to say after I had to catch my breath.

He asked. "When is your birthday?"

"October 15th."

Suddenly a wide grin appeared on his gorgeous brown face and his eyes twinkled like Christmas lights. "Libra, hunh?"

"Yeah, I'm a Libra," I smiled and gazed out the window. "Signs of the scales,"

"Libra, hunh?” He repeated, still grinning. “Libra hunh?"

"Yeah, why you say it like that?" Although I knew what he was implying by that comment, but I wanted to hear him say it. Libras are known to be graduates from Super Freak University and known to get A's and B's in Foreplay 101 and 102, Advanced Sexual Positions, Anal Buffet and Frontal Oral Pleasure.

"Because I know some good things about Libras, some very good things," He said and stopped at a red light.

"So you like Libra women?" I asked.

"I love Libra women, but I'm into women, period," answered Ramon. "I don't discriminate based on a zodiac sign."

"I hear that." I stared out the window as the breeze molested my face and scalp. Suddenly one of my favorite songs of all time, "Angel of Mine" by Monica came on the radio.

"Oooh, this is my song. I haven't heard this song in a minute." I began singing the first couple of bars of the song and bobbed my head back and forth in the passenger seat.

"Listen to you giving me a private concert," Ramon turned around and smiled at me. "What are you, a singer?"

"Naaaaah!" I shook my head.

"Why? You sound good. Matter of fact you sing a little bit like Vivian Green."

"You know my best friends say the same thing. But I don't have that passion where I breathe, sleep and pee singing. Now when I was younger you couldn't tell me I wasn't going to be the next Whitney, but I rather own a day spa. And I can always sing while people are getting their massages. I can be a singing masseuse." We laughed at my joke.

Ramon gave me an eyebrow-raised glance. "You work at a spa?"

"Yeah, I work at Total Serenity Spa."

"You work there?" He asked. I nodded my head. "That spa is nice. I've been there one time and gotten a Deep Tissue massage."

"Shut up! You get massages?" Now I was quite impressed. He was the first guy I met who was into pampering himself.

"Yeah, I like massages. I like to get rubbed down and get the tenseness out my muscles." He grinned. "So you think I can get a discount?"

"I can do you one better." I told him. "I can give you free massages. I'm very good with my hands." Hell, I'm actually very good with my some of other body parts too.

"That's what's up."

We had such a good conversation as Ramon drove to the surprise spot. I learned that he is the oldest out of two kids. His younger brother is a senior in high school and will be attending Drexel University in the fall. Ramon, on the other hand, is a senior at Penn State studying Business Management. He plans on owning his own establishment where a skating rink will be on the first floor and a restaurant on the second floor which sounds like a good idea. He also told me his favorite color was a two-way tie between blue and black. In return I told him my favorite color was pink and that in the next five or ten years I want to own my spa that provides massages, body scrubs, facials, manicures, pedicures and waxing. I told him I did have a half-sister and a half-brother, but I consider myself an only child because I didn't have a relationship with my half sibling. I just consider them a couple of folks who have the same sperm donor as me. Before I knew it he entered into a crowded parking lot filled with various cars from Fords, Hondas and Toyotas to Acuras', Lexuses and Mercedes'.

I tried to stop the frown creeping onto my face when I looked at the name on the building which read Lucky Strikes Lanes. Is he kidding me? He just gotta be. Come on, do I look like I want to bowl? I was thinking we were going to a nice Italian or soulfood restaurant but to a bowling alley? And call me prissy if you want to, but I wasn't trying to break any nails. Shoot, I just got a manicure today.

I must've didn't do a good job hiding my disgust because Ramon asked when he backed into a parking space. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong." I answered. "It's just that I can't bowl."

"Don't worry." Ramon turned off the radio and turned the ignition off. "I got you."

As I opened the door, Ramon walked around to my side and took me by the hand as I stepped out the car. We headed inside Lucky Strike and I must say I was very impressed. It wasn't one of those average-looking bowling alleys. Instead they had a huge, contemporary-looking lounge which was filled with folks talking and laughing over drinks and food. On the other side, they had a bar. And in front of the lounging area, they had the lanes and a multi-tech video system where people could see themselves bowl. It was one of those upscale bowling places where you would see celebrities hang out at. Most of the people were dressed in jeans. Some had on khakis and shirts.

We bounded over to the counter to get some bowling shoes which were some of the fugliest shoes I've ever seen. They were light brown and chocolate leather shoes and totally threw off my outfit. They could at least have some stylish bowling shoes. And if that wasn't bad enough when I sat down and slid my feet into them when I followed Ramon to an unoccupied bowling lane, the soles kept flapping up and down.

Ramon grabbed a green bowling ball off the cart. "Okay, I'm going to show you how to do it. And then I want you to take a shot at it, all right?"

"Okay." I watched him cup the ball in his right hand. As he bent over to roll the ball down the lane, I watched his jeans squeeze his tight, muscular butt. I can definitely have that cake out the oven without any kind of icing. My ears were temporarily out of order because I was barely listening to his how-to-bowl instructions because my eyes were busy wandering all over his body. Mmm-Mmm-Mmmph! It should be a felony for a body to look that good.

I jumped out my body gawking when Ramon made a strike and yelled out, "Look at that!"

I clapped my hands and cheered. "Whooo Hooo! Go ahead, Ramon! You're like a friggin' pro!"

"Yeah, I've been bowling since I was twelve, pretty much." He said. "Every year me and my family would always go out bowling. So now you think you got it?"

"I guess." I picked up a burgundy bowling ball off the cart and decided to make a deal with him. I was going to make the best out of this date. "Now if I make a strike, you have to give me a kiss."

"Well, I was gonna give you a kiss anyway, but all right. That'll definitely work."

Holding the ball, I wiggled my butt against his crotch and bent over to slide the ball.

"Girl, you shouldn't do that." His hands cupped my waist as I continued rubbing against his bulging private area.

"But I see your boy doesn't mind." I giggled naughtily and rolled the ball down the lane. It seemed like forever before the ball actually knocked all of my pins down.

I jumped up and down like I had won an all-day shopping spree at Macy’s. I was happy not only because I scored a strike even though I've never bowled a day in my life, but because I won the deal. Before I knew it, Ramon placed those yummy-looking lips against mine. And they felt not only good on top of mine, but they tasted good too. At that moment, I didn't care where we were or who was looking because I was in naughty girl mode.

Who would’ve thought that bowling could be so much fun?


Ramon pulled alongside the curb in front of my apartment building. His headlights lit up the pavement and Chase's Nissan Pathfinder. I opened the door and before I could step out the door, Ramon's gentleman self took me by the hand and helped me out the car.

"I had a nice time, Ramon." I commented when we stood in front of my apartment building.

He asked. "That's all you had was a nice time?"

"Okay. I had a great time." I smiled.

We kissed softly before our tongues embraced in a passionate fashion. My hands caressed his neck and his hands rubbed my back. I could feel my lips getting wetter than a bowl of Progresso's chicken broth. And I'm not talking about the ones between my nose and my chinny chin chin either. Right then and there my head was doing a mental battle. Should I be a hoe, invite him in so I can confirm the very good things he heard about Libras? Or should I be a good girl and we go our separate ways with him driving off into the night and me heading into my apartment?

I decided to have some morals about myself and pulled away from our tongue tango. "I have to go. Call me."

"All right," He said before I stroked his goatee with my right hand and planted a gentle kiss on his lips. He was making this very hard.

I watched him get inside his car before I stuck my key into the door. Locking the door behind me I straightened my blouse and headed towards my apartment door. As I inserted my key into my apartment door, I heard the sound of a door opening followed by a gruff masculine voice. "Damn girl, what chew tryna do to a nigga? Give me a nervous breakdown?"

I spun around to face the voice and watched Chase's dark slanted eyes running all over my boobs, butt and thighs. He was coming out his apartment with his boy Lyzel right behind him. They looked hood cute with Chase dressed in a forest green polo shirt, dark jeans and had a white baseball cap on his head while Lyzel had on a black, short-sleeved, Black Widow shirt that revealed his tattoo which read Lyzel in black letters on his lower left arm, charcoal-colored jeans with a motorcycle chain hanging from his belt loop and a black cap on his head.

Chase headed down the flight of steps and continued admiring my body. "You workin' the hell out those jeans."

"Thank you." I smiled.

"Where you comin' from, shorty?" Lyzel questioned, closing the door behind him. "A hot date?"

"That's for me to know and you not to find out." I winked.

Chase pursed his lips. "Yeah, you came from a date. I knew you were bullshittin' me with that Lonely Broads shit. I bet you, you got like four or five dudes on ya ass."

"I wasn't bullshittin' you with the Lonely Broads Club. I'm not lonely in the sense I have my part-time or seasonal men, but lonely in the sense I don't have a full-time 24 hours, 7 days a week and available during the holidays and all four seasons. I like to be able to keep my options open."

"You like to keep your options open, huh?" He leaned against the wall and stared at me flirtatiously. Suddenly I felt my cocoa brown eyes cruising over his eyes and lips and yielding on his muscular, chestnut brown biceps before traveling back to his eyes. This guy is sexy as shit. "Well there's nothing with dat. So how about you come over to our crib tomorrow night and kick it with us?"

"I don't know if I can come over. I have to check my schedule because you know I'm sooo busy." I let out a sigh and threw my hand to my forehead in dramatic flair. I wanted to play with Mr. Thug Sexy.

"So I'll see you around seven thirty." Chase said.

"What makes you think I can come? I told you I'm busy."

"You'll be there." He saw right through my game.

" And have your roommates come too." ordered Lyzel. "They're both invited. By the way, what's up with your friend?"

"Which one? Zayla?" I plastered a confused look on my face. I knew that nine and a half out of ten he was referring to Keyarra judging by the way he was eye sexing her the other day, but I decided to act like I just stepped off the bus to Cluelessville.

"No, not the sassy one. I'm talking about the quiet one with the pretty hair. You know, Keyarra. That's her name, right?"

"Oh Keyarra," I acted like the bus headed back to Smart Girl Avenue. What do you mean what's up with her?"

"Cause she be acting all scared, yo. I don't know why. I haven't whipped out the dick yet, ya dig?"

Chase and I roared inside the hallway. Lyzel was crazy.

"Keyarra just has to get to know you, that's all." I told him. Because Keyarra was very pretty, always dressed nice, didn't deal with any and everybody, people automatically assumed she was stuck-up. She wasn't outgoing like me or Zayla where we can talk to a person who we didn't know from a fly off a ceiling. Keyarra had to feel you out before she warmed up to you if she likes you. And that's the key word-likes. If you didn't like watching movies, didn't enjoy the same type of music, go to plays or had no idea who BeBe Moore Campbell or Eric Jerome Dickey was, you might as well keep it moving and save your voice for the next person because my girl won't give you the name of the location let alone the time of day.

"But keep this between us three," I leaned forward and whispered. "Keyarra is a superfreak. She does things that'll make a porn star blush." I inserted my key into the door.

A grin was on Lyzel's face as he nodded. "You know I figured that. Cause she got this aura that she's an undercover freak."

I agreed one hundred and five percent with him. "Yeah, and you know how it's always the quiet ones that are the freakiest ones behind closed doors."

"It's all good cause that's how I like em'-a lady in the streets but nasty between the sheets," Lyzel replied.

"So what about you, shorty?" Chase asked and gazed into my eyes. "You like to get nasty between the sheets?"

"I'll put it to you like this. I'll try anything once." I gave him a flirtatious wink and let my comment hang in the air. That should give him something to fantasize about. "See you guys later."

"See you sexy." Chase said.

"Bye baby." That was Lyzel.

I opened my door and stepped inside the apartment. I didn't need to see if Chase was watching me because I knew those eyes were glued to my body like it was the NBA Playoffs. And I also knew that with those freak-me eyes of his, tattooed body and thuggish exterior could get a girl in some deep trouble.