The King of Queens

It was like a movie or the beginning of a bad porno. I decided to spend the day at the beach in Queens, New York. I did yoga that morning and saw a film set pretending to be Puerto Rico for the sake of a tv show. I idled for a few hours, even speaking with one of the PAs about the set and how one could make a few industry friends for work.

Later I sat on a bench staring at the ocean in all its majesty, beautiful, serene, and dancing to the rhythm of the world. In the distance, a man cloaked in black sauntered past. I could tell he was cruising because he kept licking his lips and grabbing at his crotch. His dick looked pretty sizeable and I was already horny from the previous almost fucks that fell apart. I watched him walk to the restroom awaiting a rendezvous in one of the stalls.

I strutted to the resting area, the sun blazing high, and scurried past him. I wasn’t prepared to take dick and needed to make a pit stop first. While in the restroom my feet grew cold and I wasn't so sure if I wanted to hook up with a random person anymore. After a few deep breaths I talked myself back into it but by the time I went back to the balcony, I guess he had found another willing soul. He was sexy, with a nice body, wavy hair, and bronze skin. In my mind, he would’ve been a good fuck.

I ditch my efforts and resort to rubbing one out in the stall. At this point, I had a boner that wouldn’t go down which is a problem considering I was wearing my favorite tan skintight interview dress. I couldn’t imagine strutting down the beach with a full hard-on and expecting people not to stare. After relieving myself which took a minute because the janitorial staff wanted to be thorough with the cleaning, I was back on the beach watching the film set. I drank the last bit of my water and decided it was time to head back. I felt like a failure from the cruising attempt so it's best to cut my losses.

As I made a beeline for the road toward my air bnb I heard a man’s voice call out “excuse me, miss, miss!” I ignored him because my default is to ignore people that I don’t know. It keeps me safe but also alone. He jogged quickly closing the gap between us and spoke again. “Excuse me, can I talk to you for a second?”

I stopped, thinking, is this man speaking to me in broad daylight? Smiling? He must want something.

“Can I help you?” I said with a slight twinge of my lip and a raise of my eyebrow. I was trying to chill out in the house.

“Do you take this route often?” he inquired. He looked like he was waiting for a serious response but it was beginning to feel like a movie- my Achilles heel. He seemed like a sweet man, taller than me, with brown skin sweating from his workout. He wasn’t super built but I could tell he worked out especially because he had arms that looked like they could lift a bitch up and cradle me to sleep. I like strong arms.

He saw that my water bottle was just about empty and asked if wanted a refill. Said his townhouse was just on the edge of the beach as he pointed to a beautiful row of blue and white painted homes all stuck together like an apartment complex. I laughed, “no thank you, I’m good.”

A look of sadness flashed across his face as he asked again more fervently. I dropped my weed pen that pointed down the street to the air bnb. I had a choice to make, either take my ass home like the pen suggested or accompany this strange man back to a random house on the boardwalk to do only God knows what.

Speaking of God, “Yes”, a gospel song, sang in my ear when he approached me. It was one of my favorite songs. It prays for an increase of abundance and love. Maybe it wasn’t God and only my overactive libido but I agreed as he escorted me to his home. On the way, he asked me question after question about my interest and what brought me to New York. He seemed genuinely interested in me. Bitch you thought! (in my best Nicki voice).

He opened the door for me. I stepped inside to see a very well-furnished home. It was cream, white, and burgundy with accents of gold trim here and there. It gave palace vibes, not to mention the plush-ass white carpets that felt like marshmallows when I rubbed my feet across them. He'd hung a lion on a wall with a prayer from the lord.

Of course, I ask questions like what do you want and why did you bring me here but he insisted I refill my water first. He had a surprising amount of water options including one of the big-ass office cubicle water tanks that Karen from accounting stands by annoying her coworkers with unsolicited conversation. I requested water in a sealed bottle because of date rape drugs and shit. Nigga pulled out the Fiji water and no lie I felt fancy for a second.

He sat across the room from me asking more questions about my interests. I found out that we did not see eye to eye on cops and he’s a pull yourself up by the bootstraps type of guy. I get that but most Americans can’t afford boots let alone straps to yank them bitches up but I could see he was a hardworking man. One who struggled to make his living and eventually fell in with the money crowd. Also, he had a lisp and I should’ve said “how you want the bussy can’t say your S’s and shit?” (Barbie Dreams- Nicki) Lord knows I was thinking it.

He said things that I dreamt a man would say to me. We seemed to enjoy similar things, elaborate parties, decorating for those parties, and being family oriented and stable. Claiming we were standing in his summer home was the cherry on top. I could see that he wanted me, so much so that when he got up to excuse himself to the restroom his dick was brick! Those poor sweatpants didn't stand a chance. Talk about a print. All I could do was chuckle. He’s not the first man to get hard by just talking to me, looking at me, and if I’m being honest I felt flattered. I wanted to know that I could turn my man on from across the room with a simple glance or smile.

When he returned from the bathroom, I'm assuming from wiping his sweaty balls from the workout he endured before he spotted me, he asked if I needed to freshen up. I replied “nope” because I had no intention of releasing my tidily bits. I sat closer to him at the fancy highball dining table and crossed my legs. He seemed adamant but I had a few questions of my own like what do you want from me? Why do you want to help me? Why did you approach me?

He leaned in and said “I just wanted to talk to you, something in me said there she is and I felt compelled to come over to you. I like to help others with their needs in the ways that I can and I don’t know, it was something about you. Honestly, I saw those legs and knew I’d be remiss if I didn’t introduce myself. I never talk to anyone on the boardwalk. I usually just do my workouts and head to work.”

I can’t say I wasn’t satisfied with his answer. I think men know what to say to make me think they see me as someone special. It worked after all and somehow the lisp made him more enduring. I know, I’m a sucker. I said “you know I’m trans right?” with an attitude.

His response was something like "I just saw a beautiful woman when I first approached you but after talking to you, yes I could tell.”

“And what's your relationship like with trans women?”

They all hit me with the same line, “I’ve never been with a “trans” before. I usually date women.”

“A trans?” my face contorted. “You can refer to me as a fem or transwoman.” I paused. “So you want to help me?” He nodded yes. I could use the help considering I’m new to the city, don’t have many contacts yet and my living situation is up in the air. The air bnb gets expensive after a while. “In what way?” I asked.

“Just wash my back and I’ll wash yours.” he reclined in the plush seat.

“I am known to give a pretty good washing”, I said with a smirk. Before I could finish my smile his dick had popped out his sweats throbbing. It was pretty, nice sized, and matching in skin tone all the way around. I got on my knees in front of him, secured my faux-locs into a ponytail to avoid any unwanted splatter in my hair and went to town. I sucked the soul out of that nigga. I’m not sure where all of the extra passion came from but I chalked it up to being cruised earlier on the boardwalk. I was sucking dick for two.

At some point it was so good he grabbed me by the ears to fuck my mouth a little but I have sensitive ears so he had to let go. I got so into it that I was ready to bust my nut and the spit that dripped from my lips dribbled onto my dick. I stroked and sucked with a fury so passionate that he began to convulse. He peered down to watch the magic and furrowed his brow but was too invested in reaching that nut nirvana so he looked away. With a shout of ecstasy, he burst all over my favorite interview dress with globs and globs of pearlescent cum. It leaked out of him like a fire hydrant. I felt proud. Even I was impressed with how much fervor I’d put into making him orgasm. Although, he didn’t wait around long enough to help me climax.

He immediately went to the restroom after tossing me a towel to clean up. I wiped myself down waiting for my chance to use the louver and snooped around a tiny bit just to learn more about the man that just came on my chest. I took a swig of water because I had a dry mouth after this one. When he returned I moved closer as if to kiss him and jolted back. A look of disgust covered his face.

“So you can’t kiss me?”

He sighed heavily. “It's just that you're a man and I don’t kiss men.”

I felt like I got shot in the face, but with cum! “What the fuck did you just say?”

“It was great and everything but I only kiss and date women. I could never love you like that. I don’t like that you’re a man. When I saw it I just…”

“Hold up. I am not a man. You’re a man. Do we seem the same to you?” He shook his head no. “That’s because we’re not. And secondly, you didn’t have a problem putting your dick in me even if I was a man but it's after you get your nut that you're grossed out all of a sudden! You couldn’t even stand up without your dick getting hard from looking at me but I’m the problem? And you didn’t seem to care twenty minutes ago when we discussed the fact that I’m trans. It didn’t turn you off then.”

“It was just seeing it.”

“Well guess what? I have a dick and I like to use it. Most niggas can’t keep their hands off it but I guess you wanted to be different.”

He started fumbling over his words and shit. I mocked his lisp just a little because that bitch ass nigga had it coming. I was furious! I got duped again. Here I was thinking that this man may have been an answer to a prayer that I have held in my heart long since before I knew I wanted someone to love me because I would finally feel seen by them. But he was like the rest, a lying ass nigga that used his wits to trick a bitch out the panties and leave me high and dry with no orgasm of my own. How could I be so stupid? Again? Not to mention that he was grown! This nigga got grandkids that I’ll never meet because “real men” don’t openly date trans people. They just like to suck and fuck in the dark.

I was appalled and threw the cummy towel in his face. It was his after all. He offered me the bathroom to clean up a little but I just wanted to be done with this awkward interaction. I turned to leave but something in me stopped my feet. I turned back.

“And just to be clear, you will not make me feel less than for wanting me, desiring me, pursuing me persistently even after I told your raggedy ass no, only to turn around and act like I’m a fucking pariah! You wanted me, it's not the other way around. Don’t fucking disrespect me because you can’t handle the fact that you’re attracted to me. That’s not my problem. And clearly, if you desire me you must not be straight because any nigga that’s trying to talk to me is a part of the community because I am the fucking community. You were over here! Own your shit.”

He just hung his head low because he knew he fucked up. “Well can you just take my number? Call me if you ever need anything.”

“I don’t want shit from you!” which was a lie. I at least wanted that nut reciprocated and I couldn’t even get that.

“Please, just take my number. You said you’re looking for a place up here, I have some real estate friends that I’m going to give a call. Check in with me tomorrow, I can help you find something.”

This piqued my interest because a bitch was looking for a place to stay a little more permanent while visiting the big apple.

“Call me tomorrow and I can help. Just let me make a few calls first.” With a shitty expression of disdain, I handed him my phone so he could program his number. I said “JP Morgan Chase right? That’s where you work?”

“Is that how you’re saving me on your phone?”

“No, well kinda. I chuckled. I saved his name but I added his workplace so I could look him up later. At this point, I felt lied to by every guy so I have to check the back story. I’m learning the niggas will say anything.

I snatched my phone back and put on my shoes. As I made a beeline for the door he offered me another water to go. Reluctantly I took it because I have to stay hydrated in the sweltering New York heat. I left and didn’t look back.

Fast forward, though it was a complex shitty situation, this man had captured parts of my heart. I found myself daydreaming about him so much that I couldn’t sleep that night. I lay awake replaying our interaction like a fucked up rom-com on comedy central. I wondered if I could call him if I needed something and at 4:20 am the next day I rang his line. He answered in a flurry.

“Are you okay? Is everything alright?”

“I’m okay. I was just thinking about you and wondered if…”

Before I could finish my ask for some late-night rejection sex, he hit me with “Okay well I have a meeting in the morning so I’ll call you later.”

“Oh, okay, goodnight.” Click.

I sat on the back porch smoking a dubie wallowing in my sorrows. He didn’t want me as badly as I wanted him. What is it with me and guys who love to reject me? I swear I am glutton for punishment sometimes. I shouldn’t have called.

The next day it was time for me to check out of the air bnb. There was some more drama happening with the upstairs tenants that I didn’t want to get involved in so I packed my shit and headed out. Because the New York train system is built funny, I got lost for the nth time trying to get from the beach in Queens to Flatbush Brooklyn. I got so lost in the fact that I ended up lost in the city with a dying phone and no money. I decided that I did need something from him. Call me an uber to my friend's place because I’m in a city I know nothing about with no way to get around. And the men that did stop to ask if I needed a ride sped off when I said I’m trying to get to Flatbush. Not to mention I’m lugging a giant ass bag around with my life in it and the fucking wheels are coming off.

I called him up. It rang and rang and then voicemail but I couldn’t leave a message. So when I needed some help, the kind this man was offering, he decided to ignore me. I guess I wasted my one phone call trying to get some dick when a bitch should have made sure I got paid upfront. This isn't the first time I’ve made this dumb-ass mistake, trusting that a man would keep his word to me. When will I learn?

Luckily, like an angel, a random lady that just hopped off the bus in front of me, who was strangely dressed tacky as fuck like my Godmother, asked me if I was lost. I was. She proceeded to give a bunch of instructions that I didn't understand because I don’t have a map of New York in mind yet but she sent me in the right direction to charge my phone and spend my last to get a Lyft to my friend’s place.

After a bit of dumb luck and help from my guardian angel, I was on my way to a different adventure in Brooklyn, and was it a wild ride. Lying ass nigga!

Song Inspiration: “I Hate U” by (the one and only) SZA