Chapter 1

O…ba…ma…, O…ba…ma.., O…ba…ma., These were the chants heard as Antonio, Spider and myself walked into The Lava Lounge, a trendy hotspot on the south side of town. The place always had a decent crowd, but tonight there was something different about the atmosphere. Decorated with banners, balloons and posters of Obama It was as if this was his national headquarters.
We all filled the room believing in the same mission of “Yes We Can”. From every spectrum of the business world, entry level to CEO’s to non entry or in between jobs we stood there with the same hope and relentless faith as we watched CNN count electoral votes.
With any social environment there will be socializing and once my eyes caught those of my future first lady I was ready to open up the lines of communication.
There were two women sitting at a table watching CNN and for a moment I stood from a distance to gather in there beauty. One was light-skinned, with hypnotic green eyes and shoulder length hair. The other was caramel toned, long jet black hair with blond highlights and two strands on the side of her face like T-Boz.
My cousin Antonio and best friend Spider were playing pool. The fact that the two of them weren’t arguing about who was better at what, was an historic event of its own. Then again the night was young.
As I walked toward the table with the beautiful women, I stopped at the bar and talked to my girl Ivey. I was a regular at the Lava Lounge and I always took care of Ivey under the table and she always gave me my drinks with that in mind. I was schooled to take care of those that take care of you. And having a friend that was a bartender came in hand, especially when you find yourself on a date with a woman that can drink most men under the table. Regardless of what you heard in a song, it’s still trickin even when you do got it. I ordered some drinks for Antonio and Spider and a waitress took them over to them and I ordered something for myself.
Excuse me, I just wanted to introduce myself. I extended my hand half way hoping she would make the effort to meet me the rest of the way. Our hands became one, I took notice that hers were soft, freshly manicured and without a ring. Hi, I am Marcus and I just want to say that I don’t think it’s fair that you didn’t get to vote in the most historic election just because of your felony. Her and her friend looked at each other with a puzzled, but curious look on there face. “Felony? What felony is that?”, she asked. To be this beautiful you had to steal it, If I compare you to everybody else in the club I’m wondering why they let all these ugly motherfuckers in here. They both bust out laughing, and I joined in. The light skinned one said, “that was not nice”, the other said very original, so are you just trying out your new material.
Before I answered her question, I motioned over to Ivey that I was ready for my order. Ivey brought me a bottle of Moet on ice and 3 glasses. As I filled each glass I asked them both if they would have a toast with me. Whats your angle Marcus, what do you want from me? I paused and looked her in the eyes, I just want your name, I replied.
My name, and then what. Well then I can do a background check, we all laughed. Or I can just leave knowing the name of the woman that captured my attention from the Presidential election. My name is Charlene and this is my best friend Kenya. It has been my pleasure to meet you both, I raised my glass, “to new beginnings, including friendships and presidents”. I’ll drink to that, Kenya said. Well have a goodnight ladies, I left my tab open so my girl Ivey can take care of whatever else you need. Oh and Charlene to answer your earlier question, comedians try out new material. I on the other hand am very serious and sincere, you are a beautiful woman. I learned very important lessons about women from my sister Michelle and female cousins. They taught me to always leave a woman wanting more. Give them laughter, love, excitement and orgasms and they will be yours. A woman wants to feel her presence is sought after, so I made sure I left Charlene with the intention that she was being chased.
Another hour had passed and things were looking good for Barack Obama, he had a very strong lead and the atmosphere reflected that. People were high fiving each other and raising there hands in the air as a motion like they were pushing the mythical invisible ceiling a little higher.
Charlene…
Before Marcus had even come over to the table Kenya and I noticed him walk thru the door. He stood about 6’2’’ and his swagger was about equal height. He was wearing a black suit with a white and grey colored pin stripe shirt, perfectly coordinated tie and cufflings. A watch that sparkled but wasn’t to flashy, girl he is wearing ferragamo shoes, Kenya said. Kenya was in the modeling industry so fashion was one of her strong points. I think the suit is Ferragamo also, he has some style about himself, she added.
After he made the toast and left his tab open for me and Kenya he walked away but his swagger stayed in my memory. “Girl you better get at that fine ass man”, Kenya screamed. I could already tell that he had a different approach then most men, I mean if any other brotha were to buy you a drink they think that is a down payment for the rest of the night. They assume that you want to sit and listen to them talk about themselves, I was so tired of hearing the I’m starting my own business or I’m an entrepreneur tired of working for the man. Kenya and I made that eye contact and we were both thinking the same thing, this brotha ain’t got no job.
The moment we had all been waiting for came a little after midnight, Barack Obama was elected the 44th President of the United States of America. The Lava Lounge erupted in cheers, people that never met before tonight were hugging each other, laughing and exited about change. I had begin to shed a few tears along with many others as we all watched President Elect Obama accept America’s vote of confidence. My tears begin to flow like a river as I watched Jesse Jackson, a civil rights icon also shed tears. I wondered what this moment was like for him and people like my father that lived in a time where change was still a dream only spoke of in a speech. Marcus walked by and saw the tears in my eyes, “Charlene I would have stayed if I knew you were going to cry about me leaving” he said smiling. The Dj announced that it was now time to turn this political party into a celebration, and then Young Jezzy song My President came on. Everybody in the Lounge sung along with great pride as the chorus went “my president is black”. Marcus handed me a napkin, here clean your beautiful face, you heard the Dj it’s time to celebrate. After I wiped away my tears Marcus and I went out onto the dance floor and got our groove on. He fit up against my body like a hand in a glove. If OJ’s hand fit like this he would still be in jail. Marcus felt perfect up against me. “Marcus why are we slow dancing to Young Jezzy”, I whispered. I want you to get familiar with being in my arms, and having me this close to you, he replied. After a few more dances we decided to go have a drink and continue our conversation.
Marcus didn’t let go for the remainder of the night and I must say I didn’t want him to let me go. We had a mutual hold on each other, he didn’t just talk about himself but he also inquired about me. I gave him my background, told him my name was Charlene D Williams a Marketing Specialist of a high profile advertising company. Graduated with honors from Wake Forest University and at the age of 27 is a member of the unestablished group B.B.S, black beautiful and successful. He told me his name was Marcus Levar Creed, the CEO of an architecture firm called Creed Dynamic Designs. He started his company in his last year of attending North Carolina A&T. It started out as residential designs, but through years of networking he went from making dream homes to the lucrative career of commercial designs.
We sat at a table in a secluded corner as if the other hundred people there didn’t exist. We enjoyed each others company, talked about everything from goals to relationships. A few comments about the people around us from the women who looked to be dancing for tips to the “baller” that walked around with a pimp cup that spelled out “Nasty G” in cubic zirconium, we laughed as we noticed this so called pimp was wearing penny loafers with quarters in them, we figured that was probably his life savings.
After last call, I told Charlene I was going to go settle my tab and that I would walk her and Kenya to her car. When I got Ivey’s attention to settle my bill, she handed me my card and told me that it had already been takin care of. I asked by who and she pointed to Charlene. The fact that Charlene took care of the tab showed me that she was a very independent woman and definitely different than most woman I have met.
I walked Charlene to her car, a black Lincoln Navigator with tan leather interior. I didn’t want the night to end and Charlene didn’t seem to want to leave either. She reached inside her car and grabbed a pen and some paper so we could exchange numbers. I gave her my house and work number, pager, cell and e-mail address. She laughed and said, “Maybe I should’ve given you a bigger piece of paper.” I laughed with her, “If you would’ve, I would have given you my home address too.” “Charlene, why didn’t you let me pay for the tab, are you one of those I don’t need no man to do anything for me types” I curiously questioned. “It’s not that Marcus, I just don’t like anyone to feel like I have my hand out or that I owe them something”, she confidently replied. Are you the type that feels like your manhood is taken away when a woman buys you a drink?, she added. No I just don’t like to feel like I owe a woman anything, I said smiling. Well its too late, I paid and you owe me, so when I call I expect to collect with interest.

Chapter 2

Charlene got into her car, fiddled with her CD player, then she put her hands into my hands and pulled me down to her and placed her left hand behind my neck and her right hand guided my left hand to her thigh. “I had a really good time tonight” she sincerely remarked. Maxwell’s song from Love Jones, played in the background. Charlene placed her lips on the corner of my lips, and began to give me soft wet kisses. She started on the corner of my lips then moved to my face, her hand caressed the back of my neck. My hand ran down her thighs, like a highway heading down south. My Cadillac wanted to take this road into the deep South. There was now rain in the forecast as Charlene shifted in her seat I could hear the thunder and feel the dampness in between her thighs. It started like that summer rain, when it’s 90 degrees outside and those raindrops felt so good that you don’t run to get out of the rain, you tilt your head back and enjoy. Charlene’s groans sounded like lightning striking against the ground, a storm, with the possible threat of a hurricane conditions was arising. She noticed that my Cadillac was fully equipped, and was looking more like a stretch limo by this time. I ran her hands across my Cadillac, licked her lips and she put her eyes in the back of her head, the way a person looks when they use a Q-tip to clean their ears. My hands went further down her thighs. I had wondered the whole night why I couldn’t see a panty line on Charlene’s body the way it was hugging that dress. I assumed she was wearing a G-string. Charlene shifted her body up and her dress back, allowing me to explorer further and deeper into the smooth terrain. As my hand lead me to what seemed to be a stream in the middle of this forest of love, my questions had been answered. To my surprise, there was no G, there was no string, nothing that resembled fruit of the loom. Victoria’s Secret had be revealed, the only thing between Charlene and her dress was my hand. Charlene laid her sit all the way back, she began to spread her wings, it looked as if the sun was raising, she pulled my head down in between her. Her legs sat on my face like headphones, and by the way my tongue danced in between her and her hips swayed back and forth we both could hear the music and feel the rhythm.


Ring! Ring! Ring!
I was startled by the sound of my phone. I looked over at the clock on my dresser, it was 3:30 a.m. who the hell could this be, it wasn’t that I wasn’t familiar with the late night booty call, but not to many women had my house number so must of my booty calls came via my cell phone. I reached for the phone, and said hello “Marcus, is this you” the sweet sounding radio voice asked. “Yes, who is this, “ I asked. “It’s Ms. Williams,” the voice responded.
It was Charlene, she apologized for calling so late, but said that her friend had to be at the airport early in the morning. After I walked Charlene and her best friend Kenya to the car, we exchanged numbers and she left, she waved and blew me a kiss as she drove off.. Kenya was beautiful, I mean straight from the magazine pages beautiful, she was light skinned with green eyes and a body that made men stutter when they attempted to speak to her. Kenya was a model and Charlene kept her pretty busy in the advertising community, she was on several poster boards, magazines and even a few national TV ads. Charlene continued to apologize, “I am sorry for calling so late, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” I was so happy to hear her voice, I sat up in the bed so I could give Charlene my full attention. I heard a lot of noise in the background, sirens, wind, and the radio. “Where are you,” I asked. I’m on the highway headed home from dropping my friend off.” “Have you been thinking about me”, she asked. I wanted so bad to tell her about the dream I had about her. “You’ve crossed my mind a couple of times,” I said trying to convince myself. The sound of thunder and the beats of raindrops pounded against my window. “Is it raining where you are”, I asked. “Yes, and I hate driving in the rain” she responded as if her nerves were on edge. “Where are you,” I questioned. “I just passed the Harvard exit.” She was right around the corner from my house. I began to visualize her Carmel complexion, her bedroom eyes, those voluptuous lips, and her beautiful bold legs. I took a moment to gather myself, so it wouldn’t sound like I was thinking of body bumpin, sweaty fuckin, pull you hair, scratch your back type of love making when two people want each other badly. “I’m only 2 exits from there.” “ Oh really.” She responded, as if she knew I had more to say. “If you want to get out of the rain, your welcomed here.” There was a short silence, in the back of my mind I had wondered if I had crossed a line, by asking Charlene to stop by. Before I could open my mouth to apologize for asking her to stop by this late. “Are you sure it’s not to late” she asked. I knew then it was not only I that wanted to see Charlene, but Charlene wanted to see me. I thought to myself to late is for someone you don’t want to see. One of those people who are so ugly your afraid to be alone with them or you have to sleep with a night light on so they don’t startle you in the middle of the night. I bypassed answering Charlene’s question, I went straight to giving her directions, because I figured it was never to late for the right company. I lead her step by step, make a left at the first light, there is a Starbucks on the right side of the street, drive pass the Bally’s fitness center after a few more right turns Charlene was pulling into the circular driveway of my condo. I sprayed on some Armani, goggled with some Scope and ran downstairs to meet Charlene at the door. I saw that Charlene was still sitting in the car, her dash light was on and she was putting on lipstick. The rain had not let up it slammed against the ground and everything in its path. While Charlene sat in the car making herself beautiful, I looked around for my umbrella. “Marcus, do you see me in the driveway”, she asked to assure she was in the right driveway. “ Yes you are at the right place, let me find my umbrella so you don’t get wet” I replied. I went upstairs to look in my bedroom closet, no luck there. Then I remembered that I left it in my computer room after checking my email when I got home. As I made it to the bottom of the stairs I began to open the umbrella, but before I could she appeared. “Hi Marcus, I couldn’t wait to see you” she said in a sweet sexy voice that sound like she missed me forever. I put the umbrella behind my back, feeling guilty that Charlene had got soaked coming to see me. She flashed her pearly whites “I see you found your umbrella” she said with a smile. I stood there for a moment intrigued by her beauty, I watched as the raindrops trickled down those curvaceous legs. Her mouth glistened as the water rode those waves that were her lips. “Charlene I am so sorry, I just found my umbrella upstairs”. “Its ok Marcus she quickly replied, I really appreciate your hospitality.” I helped Charlene take off her coat and lead her into the living room. “make yourself at home and I’ll get you a towel and some dry clothes”. I handed Charlene a towel from the bathroom closet and went upstairs to find her something to put on. I reached in the top drawer and pulled out my Michael Vick jersey and some black jogging pants, as I headed back downstairs I realized. These jogging pants would give me no visuals of those beautiful legs. “I’ll be down in a minute Charlene”, I yelled from the top steps, hoping that the anticipation would make her run up the stairs and beg me to throw her down on the bed and make her a woman. A few moments passed and I heard nothing but my thoughts continued. I pulled out a pair of Nike shorts, sprayed on some Armani, checked the mirror and headed back downstairs.
As I walked into the living room, Charlene stood there in nothing but the towel that I had given her. She was looking at some pictures, degrees and awards that I had modestly posted above my fireplace. I called it my “I’m the man wall”. My mouth was wide opened , I was so stunned by her beauty that my words were undeveloped thoughts in my head, without a voice. Charlene turned around, I held the clothes in my hand as if I had forgotten they were for Charlene. “Marcus are those for me.” I stood there with a blank look on my face, watching as the towel held her body close and created curves that needed warning signs. Charlene reached for the clothes, my grip tightened around the shorts. For a moment we played tug a war, she pulled then I pulled. We both smiled, I finally loosened my grip and let Charlene take the clothes. She walked to the bathroom, and my eyes did too. She disappeared behind the door, but before she closed the door, She took the towel off and threw it towards me, “hey Marcus catch”, she said in a playful voice. “Real cute Charlene”, I replied. I felt as though Charlene and I have known each other forever, the way we joked with one another. She made me feel so comfortable. As I sat on the couch waiting for Charlene, I laid my head back closed my eyes and let the sound of Jaheim’s rhythm enter my soul. Before long I found myself singing along. Singing low enough so Charlene couldn’t hear me in the bathroom. As the rhythm of the music took control of my body, my fingers begin to snap, my head swayed back and forth, right to left and my voice grew louder. As my eyes opened, Charlene stood over me, with that beautiful smile that seemed to warm my heart every time I saw it. “Don’t stop singing Marcus, you have a wonderful voice”. I’ve been told that before, but I still get nervous when I sing in front of people.
I would have on most occasions ended my rendition of Jahiem’s love song, but she asked me to sing, so I continued for her. Charlene watched as every word left my voice, listened and groove to the sound of my octaves, moved her body as if it caused eargasms. I watched her body, my jersey has never looked so damn sexy As the last note ended, Charlene’s smile intensified “thank you Marcus, no one has ever sung to me before”. Charlene reached out and put her hands into mine, “I’m not really a good singer so you don’t have to thank me for howling at you”, I replied. Charlene smiled, “well then thank you for getting me out of the rain, I have a phobia about driving in the rain and Marcus you really do have a beautiful voice. We both smiled at each other. I led Charlene to the couch, she sat down, put her feet up and got real comfortable. I liked the fact that Charlene got comfortable, that made me feel at ease. I picked up the remote to my fireplace, turned it on and sat down beside Charlene. “Are you trying to impress me”, Charlene jokingly questioned. “No not at all, but is it working”, I replied. “It has been working from the moment you opened your mouth at the after party”, Charlene said with an intense look on her face, as a way to let me know she meant each and every word. It was a look that told me this is the reason that I’m here. Her words made love to my mind. I had been in so many meaningless relationships after breaking up with Tamara, a woman I spent 7 years of my life building and rebuilding until finally realizing without a strong foundation we could never stand. Charlene brought out the playful side in me. A side I haven’t seen in quite sometime. My Saturday nights usually end up with a late night booty call. A woman that calls and ask me to come by her place before I go home. Most of the women I have been dealing with haven’t even seen my place, and the few that have, it wasn’t my living room that we spent our time in. Charlene looked me in my eyes and said, “Marcus what are you looking for”, the questioned surprised me. We had been talking about everything from old hairstyles as she looked at some of my photo albums, which showed my silky jerry curl to the way music had changed, as we listened to R Kelly talk about his woman reminding him of starting his car. We kept the serious talk to a minimum, It was a path I haven’t been down in awhile. Everything about Charlene and I was different. So before I answered Charlene’s question I thought about the things I felt I have been missing in my life. The lonely nights after I left my booty calls house and came home to a empty bed, the days I just wanted to talk about my thoughts or dreams and not feel like it was going in one ear and out of the other. Lately the women I had been dealing with only seemed to entertain my thoughts because of the free meal, every once and awhile I would hear an uninterested un huh, or oh really in between chews, but none of them really added much depth to the conversation. I missed conversation. I missed the commitment of being committed. The loyalty, the trust, and the passion of making love. “This, this is what I’m looking for Charlene”, I confessed. I said it to her but I also realized that I had not thought about what I wanted in sometime, and to hear myself say it made me realize how much I had been missing out on. Her faced glowed and it looked as if water had formed in the corners of her eyes. These were words she had been waiting to hear for sometime, it told me she had her share of bad relationships, but she would not allow her baggage to make her cold and distance. She was an optimist who believed that love and romance existed in a place she had not been before. Therefore she would not give up on the possibilities. Charlene and I put a few pillows in front of the fireplace, we laid there and continued our conversation. The deeper we got into our conversation, the closer I felt to Charlene, I stroked her hands and arms as she spoke.

Chapter 3

At some point in the middle of the night, Marcus and I feel asleep in the comfort of each others arms. A few times I woke up and just starred at Marcus, watched him sleep, pinched myself to see if this was real. Was I really in this man’s house I had only met several hours ago. This wasn’t my style. I was out of character, but I was comfortable. After I dropped my girl Kenya off, she must have sensed I was up to something. On any normal night after hanging out, I would have crashed at her place, but not tonight I had other things on my mind. She called my cell phone before I could get out of her driveway. “Charlene are you ok to drive”, with the sounds of Floetry’s song “say yes” I replied “yeah girl I’m cool”. “You going home, right?” she said, trying to be noisy. “I’m going where I’m going”, I responded. Then before she could respond I said well girl have a good flight, call me when you get there so I can give you the details, “details on what” she interrupted. On me seducing Marcus. I could hear her jaw drop, I said bye, I love you and hung up the phone. It took me quite some time before I decided to call Marcus. I didn’t want to seem to forward, which can also be taken for being easy, neither of which I am. Marcus made me want to lose that good girl image, he made me want him in the worst way. I figured I could hook up with Marcus, screw his brains out and if things didn’t go any further I could at least say I lived on the edge once in my life. I looked at his phone number about 3 times, dialed the number at least 7 got scared and ended the call before hitting send on my cell phone. Then out of nowhere I saw a sign that gave me all the inspiration I needed. While driving pass the Nike Sportsplex there was a poster board with one of the original Michael Jordon and Mars Landing advertisements. Saying in bold letters “JUST DO IT”. They had been running these old advertisements ever since rumors had surfaced that Jordon was making another comeback for what seems to be the fifth time. I decided to do just that, I called Marcus. The phone rang a few times, I looked at my clock and saw how late it was and thought maybe Marcus was sleep or maybe one of the women that went out of there way to speak to Marcus at the party had beat me to the punch. Had there legs wrapped around him the way I intended to. Marcus was very popular, and almost every woman there went out of there way to get his attention. Marcus introduced me as his special friend when people came up to him, that impressed me. For one it showed me he wasn’t at all interested in those women and it showed he had respect for people. The power he seemed to have over people made him very sexy he demanded all eyes on him but he wasn’t arrogant about it. Marcus was able to work a room very well yet he made me feel like I had his undivided attention. When I arrived at Marcus house I sat in the drive way trying to find a reason to turn around and leave but then I caught a glimpse of Marcus standing in his doorway. His frame was stern and masculine. His arms were large and comforting, but not too large that it made some women look past him for one of two reasons. One if that fool got out of line and hit you, you might not recover and two if his arms were that big he might be lacking somewhere else. I thought about the last words Marcus said to me, “I hope to see you again very soon”, his words were so meaningful and sincere and he looked me in my eyes as he said it, something not to many men do. Although I am sure Marcus got a few glances of my body at some point throughout the evening, if he did he wasn’t obvious with it and it didn’t make me feel uncomfortable. I am not the young naive girl I used to be, but Marcus told me things I wanted to hear and he said them the way I wanted them to be said. I got out of my car and walked to Marcus front door anxious to see the man that had abducted my thoughts for the past several hours. As I entered I thought for a second how it felt to come home and have someone waiting there for you. As I recalled I ended a three year relationship on the fantasy of having someone there. I met my ex Lamar while I was in college, he was fine, smart and a college hoop star. He had everything going for himself, but he was well grounded and down to earth. He was the first man to treat me like a queen and he promised that if I gave him the chance I would know what love felt like. In the beginning I was skeptical because he was popular and all the girls wanted him because he was a NBA prospect. Lamar showed me and everyone at school that he was dedicated to me when he proposed to me during half time of one of his biggest televised games. I was in tears as I accepted his proposal. We decided to get married once we both graduated. After Lamar blew out his knee the NBA scouts stop calling and he was not drafted. He was depressed for awhile and that postponed our plans. Together we got through some difficult times as we moved on and led a happy life together, that is until the day he broke my heart. I was having a bad day at work when I decided I was going to leave at lunch, go home and let my man relieve my stress. As I opened the door Lamar had his Timberlands and clothes sprawled out in the living room, I heard the shower running and immediately started to take my clothes off, I was going to take him in the shower. That was even better for my schedule, I could screw my man, take a quick shower and go back to work all in under a hour and a half. When I got close to the bathroom door I heard moans and grunts, not moans and grunts like this motherfucker was constipated and trying to shit, but like this fool had some bitch in my house, given her my dick. I grabbed the door and then realized I was going in empty handed, I wasn’t sure this could be a big bitch so I had to be prepared. I went to the closet by the front door to get the bat I kept there, I use it when I answer the door. Even though I wasn’t in the hood no more, old habits die hard besides these fools nowadays have good credit with nice cars and will drive right up to your door in the suburbs with some hood shit. When I got back to the bathroom the moans had intensified. I busted in the door, pulled the shower curtain back and was disgusted by what I saw. After I called Lamar every punk and bitch in the book, I broke down and just cried. “Lamar I trusted you”, “I gave you money out of my pocket to start your company and you repay me by fucking your business partner”, I yelled. I was shocked, hurt and surprised as hell, his business partner was always over at our house and we even went on double dates together. I trusted and supported them and there endeavors to open a sports agency/talent scouting firm. I felt betrayed, I quickly put on my clothes and left. “Charlene, Charlene, wait”, Lamar pleaded. I looked back and notice him hanging his naked body out of the door.
“Charlene, Charlene, are you ok”, Marcus questioned as he zapped me back to reality. “Would you like some dry clothes to put on”. I refocused my attention on Marcus and let those old times stay where they belonged, buried with all the other drama I have ever dealt with in my life. Marcus stood there in a white wife beater tank top and blue Nike shorts. He had a few tattoos that accented his chocolate complexion and model build. For a second I imagined Marcus grabbing the back of my neck, pulling my lips to his, lifting my skirt above my waist, pulling my panties to the side and filling that internal void I had been missing. I could not control my irrational thoughts or behavior, this man made me weak and I wanted him to strengthen me in the worse way. I had every intention of seducing Marcus, but as or conversation got deeper I wanted to know more about him then about his 60 minute workout. Besides he wasn’t like any other brothas I had met, most men attack you as soon as you get in the door and that is such a turn off unless its one of those attack at the door nights, which can be spontaneous and erotic, a real man will know when to and when not to. Marcus was a smove brotha, he didn’t need to pressure me and he knew it, besides he was probably getting it on a regular, I was the one going through withdrawal, but with all men they can’t hide there excitement and throughout the night as we held each other I felt what seemed to be a stick of dynamite ready to explode I placed my ass up against his pleasure to determine size and depth and Houston with that we will have no problems.

Chapter 4

After our Saturday morning basketball game, my cousin Antonio and my homie Spider stopped up at IHOP to have breakfast. We have been playing in this Basketball league together for about two and a half years, It was started about 3 years ago by a couple of college players I use to compete against. It’s a great place to network, the league is full of businessmen that can help you get your foot in the right door. Last year we won the championship and with my 27 points 7 rebounds and 12 assist today, I’m playing for a repeat. Spider and I have known each other since college. He was also a self proclaimed ladies man or for lack of better words a campus man hoe. There were several women at a nearby table that kept looking over at me and my crew. Antonio of course swore they were looking at him. Spider was preoccupied on his cell phone with his wife and I continued to stuff my face with blueberry pancakes covered in maple syrup and whip cream. Spider made a frustrated sound as he closed his cell phone and slammed it down on the table, “women are a cancer and I am dying a slow death” Spider stated. We all laughed. I understood exactly how Spider felt and at any other point in my life would have agreed with him, but lately Charlene has givin me a different perspective. I didn’t talk to much about Charlene to the fellas but they were quick to point out my different behavior. “So Marcus are you allowed to hang out at Chances tonight”, Antonio questioned with a devilish grin. “Allowed”, I quickly responded, is this coming from the same guy that came home two weeks ago to find his club wardrobbed sitting in a tub of bleach, the question should be can you go out or better yet do you have anything to wear to go out. I jabbed back. We all laughed, me and Spider gave each other dap and continued to dig in on Antonio as he sat there silent. We clowned him for letting a women he had only known for 3 weeks stay at his house while he was out clubbin”. “What were you thinking”, Spider questioned. Antonio broke his silence, “I wanted to know what it felt like to have a woman at home waiting for me, you remember that feeling, right”? Antonio sarcastically questioned. I couldn’t believe Antonio went there, I shot him a shut the fuck up look. Spider and Antonio were cool on my behalf, Antonio is my cousin and Spider is my best friend, but that never stopped them from arguing or as my mother says, battling for position. But even when the heat was on me I would have never threw such a low blow. But I’ve come to expect the unexpected from Antonio. Spider didn’t respond to his statement, he just motioned to our waitress for the check. Spider had been going through some hardtimes with his wife when he came home to find his house empty and divorce papers sitting where his big screen t.v once sat. Spider met Erica at college, she was in a separate league compared to the chicken heads Spider was known to hoe around campus with. Erica was confident, sophisticated, sexy as hell and on the dean’s list. Erica was in her second year of Law school when her and Spider met. Spider and I were finishing up our fourth and final year. Erica attended North Carolina University which is about an hour away. When her and Spider met she was down at A & T visiting her cousin Sta’cha. Sta’cha was one of my pros, she was a redbone, thick in all the right places and had an ass like a Clydesdale. Sta’cha was as real as they come, she use to come by my room roll a blunt and kick knowledge. Sta’cha had a boyfriend back home, but one night she came to my room in a some work out clothes. “I just came from the gym and wanted to see what you were up to”, she said. It was hard for me not to look at Sta’cha in those tight ass shorts, I was always attracted to Sta’cha, but she made it clear on several occasions. “Marcus I have a man and besides you can’t handle me with all your other women on campus” I recalled her saying. I stood there and wondered what was on Sta’cha’s mind. “Hey Marcus, can I get a massage, my body is aching”, Sta’cha said in a sweet voice. I had never touched Sta’cha in that way before, I mean we’ve smoked a few trees and crashed together before, but nothing like her laying on my bed in those little ass shorts and top. I wasn’t sure if I was strong enough, but I damn sure wasn’t going to say no. That night Sta’cha was going to find out what a real massage felt like, or watch me die trying. Thinking back on that night, I truly think that Sta’cha had every intention of remaining a one woman man, but our sexual energy was just to much to bear. The act of rubbing baby oil all over her tender curves made me feel an unexplainable rush of emotions, and thoughts that I had repressed for so many months. Sta’cha could feel the intensity in my hands as they made love to her body, caressing her in a way I was sure her man had been neglecting. Sta’cha responded to my seduction, “damn Marcus that feels so good, I heard you had skills…” That last comment motivated me and at the same time made me curious, If she had heard I had skills it wasn’t about the way I give massages because I had never givin a massage to anyone else on campus. I knew what she was referring to, my hands became even more intense and fearless. I began to massage Sta’cha’s inner thigh, she began to release sounds of pleasure and whisper my name as if she desired me in the same way I desired her, “oh Marcus”, she repeated several times. At that point I envisioned myself removing Sta’cha’s shorts, but instead I just stopped, and laid down besides Sta’cha. “Why you stop Marcus”, Sta’cha curiously questioned. “I didn’t want to but I had to”, I replied. With other women this would have been a con, get them hot and bothered and then stop as soon as there ready to give in, that drives a woman crazy and they will do any and everything to get you to finish what you started. Sta’cha straddled me and began to return the favor, she massaged my chest and arms, “if I wanted you to stop I would have said so”, she gently whispered in my ear. She then went further south and reached her hand inside my jogging pants and began to massage my second mind. Sta’cha pulled down my jogging pants and continued her massage, her lips now replaced her hands as she filled her mouth and gave me oral pleasure. She kept me inside her mouth while rotating her body until the only thing between me and her waterfall was those workout shorts. I aggressively ripped Sta’cha’s shorts away from her body, anxiously wanting to taste her nectar, I let my tongue dance in between her thighs as her voice rose and her legs spread, we were both at that point of readiness. We made love a few times that night and the next morning while I was in the shower Sta’cha joined me and we made love again. We took our relationship to a new level when it became sexual, we became closer, were the best of friends and shared everything together. I asked her one night what she expected from me and told her that I was willing to be exclusive if that’s what she wanted. Sta’cha said that her man back home had proposed to her and that I should continue to see other people. We continued to have a sexual relationship, but after a few months things got aykward. When Erica would come into town to see Spider we would all hang out together. Spider would ask me to tag along to run interference incase we ran into one of his campus groupies. He had slowed down a lot when he met Erica, but with her being so far away he still did his dirt on the side. Spider, the self proclaimed doctor love would say, I still have to make my campus rounds and that he did. The one thing that amazed me about Spider was that he never got caught up, there were nights when we were at parties with everyone of his campus groupies and no matter what the situation was he never panicked and there was never any dramatic scenes. When I first met Spider he was known as Jovan Mitchell, but after the first semester me and the fellas on campus gave him the nickname Spider. We called him Spider because he kept so many women tangle up in his web. Erica was the only woman able to tangle him and also the only woman who was going to teach him a harsh lesson of what goes around comes around. Oh what a tangled web we weave when we lie and deceive.
The waitress finally brought over our bill, it took her about 5 minutes to do so, that felt like a lifetime after the silence bestowed on us from Antonio last comment about Spider’s wife. Each minute it took Antonio deducted a dollar from her tip, as much money as a computer analysis he could be a cheap bastard at times. The women that kept looking over at our table as if they needed something other than IHOP to fill them up were still there, still looking, laughing and smiling the entire time. I laid down enough money to cover our bill and the tip, before I stood to my feet I tucked in my stomach as tight as I could, I mean I’m in great shape and all but after a mega breakfast from IHOP the pancakes tend to go straight to the gut and we hadn’t quite figured out which one of us had captivated the ladies attention, so I had to give my best. As we passed by the ladies tabled, before we got to far away one of them spoke up, “excuse me, excuse me is your name Spider” she said in a sentual voice. Spider looked over at her trying to scan his memory of one night stands, and out of town rendevous, but he did not know her he would have remembered her, she had a small frame, honey complexion, brownish red shoulder length hair and when she stood up to shake Spider’s hand her ass was big enough to carry the IHOP tray that brought out my mega breakfast. Spider shook her hand “yes my name is Spider, do I know you”, he said it all suave and devoneer he did that sometimes, thinking women found it sexy. I told him that they don’t run those old Billy Dee, Colt 45 commercials no more for a reason, its old and tired. He would always respond, what works for me, works for me. The mystery women reached for a business card from her wallet and handed the card to Spider, “you don’t know me but I have some information that you might be interested in”, she said softly as she sat back down to the table. The card was from the same law firm that Erica worked at, Spider looked dazzed and confussed, the mystery women touched his hand and said, “just call me”.

Chapter 5

I called Marcus and invited him over for dinner, we had been spending a lot of time together. It was nice to have someone to go places with. We attended plays, movies went to dinner on a regular and often met for lunch. He was unofficially my man, we had not signed any contracts or made any wedding plans, but this definitely felt like a honeymoon. I never asked Marcus to be exclusive with me. I never pressured him to stop seeing or talking to any of the women that he knew before or after me. I figured that sense it was his heart that I ultimately wanted then it should be given to me by choice not by force. With that being said that doesn’t mean that Marcus could have his cake and eat it to, if this relationship was technically non exclusive then he would not reap the full benefits of an exclusive relationship. Marcus had plenty of women that were willing to settle for sweaty pillow memories. I was going to make Marcus work for this, not by spending all his money but by occupying his time. If and when I decided to give Marcus my pleasure, he would deserve it. This was the first real meal I had prepared for Marcus, on the nights that I stayed over his house or he over mine he would get up and make me breakfast. I loved this quality in Marcus and watching him cook in nothing but his boxer shorts was a definite turn on. His frame was sturdy and chiseled to perfection. I would reach my arms around him, kiss him on his back and tell him good morning while he stood at the stove and made me scrambled cheese eggs. There was so much sexual tension between us, but night after night we talked until our words became gentle kisses, subtle exchanges showing the infinite possibilities that existed. We feel into a deep sleep while spooning, and throughout the night I would feel Marcus’ tension rising. “Take it Marcus, slide my panties to the side and insert yourself into my flesh”, that’s what I thought to myself, I never said it out loud or even gave him the impression that I was ready to be taken. Just were thoughts I had while I pretended to be sleep as Marcus fought off his animal instincts in every effort to be a gentleman.
Marcus arrived at my door with a dozen long stem pink roses and a bottle of champagne. He stood there in some grown man blue jeans, the ones that don’t hang down to the knees a striped button down shirt, a burgundy blazer and the scent of Issey Miyaki. We feel into a long lip lock in the doorway, we paused as he entered the house and sat the roses and the champagne on a nearby stand and we began our lip lock once again. “Is this my dinner”, he questioned in a joking manner, but I sensed his question yearned for an answer, either yea or nea at least that way he would know what type of night he would have. “This is your dessert , so don’t spoil your appetite” I replied and walked into the kitchen leaving his lips moist and full of desire. Not knowing if I was serious or not Marcus didn’t say anything else about it, I guess he thought if I was serious he didn’t want to seem to anxious and stuff his food in his mouth.
Dinner turned out great, “that was the best smothered pork chops I have ever tasted” Marcus said. I gave off a huge, uncontrollable grin, I admitted to Marcus that I was nervous about making him dinner, he had previously told me that his mother made him smothered pork chops when he would go home from college and that it was the best thing he had ever sunk his lips into. After dinner we decided to watch a movie, Marcus went over to my DVD collection and I poured us some champagne.

Chapter 6

It has now been 4 months since Charlene and I have been seeing each other. The reality of having a woman was beginning to set in. The cell phone that once offered a variety equal to the American melting pot we live in, had begun a steady decline, going from 30 to 40 calls a day to 20 to 15 then 10 to 5 and now about 3 to 4, 2 of which was my best friend or cousin. The other was my woman it had gotten to the point where I could adjust my cell phone plan, I mean I wasn’t using those peak minutes like I use to so why pay for them, there was only one woman that I asked “can you hear me now”. The holidays was even more of an indication that I had a woman, the past few years my holidays as a single man was spent going from one womans house to the next getting plates of food and some type of holiday joy. Charlene and I spent Thanksgiving together and here it was Christmas and she laid beside me in bed. My Queen was still sleeping this morning when I decided to wake up early and serve her breakfast in bed, since she feed me well last night. I had just gotten out of the shower, when she arrived at my door unannounced in nothing but a trench coat. She made her way through my door, pushed me to the couch were I was forced to take a seat. “Charlene, what are you doing,” I questioned. She went over to the television set which was set to the first show down between the Lakers and the Celtics since Pierce defeated Kobe in the 2008 Finals. She knew how much I love basketball, and she knew I couldn’t wait until this game came on, but she also knew how much I loved her, and that was one of those moments where a woman can show her true power over her man. She came back over to me as I sat on the couch wrapped in nothing but a towel, she removed her trench coat and slowly kneed down in front of me. Charlene proceeded to slide her hands up under my towel and as she squeezed, she asked, “Were you watching the game, Marcus?” Before I could answer, there was a warm that came over me as Charlene inserted my manhood into her mouth, the way a hand gently slips into a glove. Unlike the glove in the OJ trail, this one was a perfect fit. I watched Charlene as she took me inside her, slowly working the tip with her tongue, and letting those beautiful full lips expand to except every inch of me willingly. Her head rose up and down, while her hand softly massaged my balls. She proceeded to go from the tip down my entire shaft. I could tell this had filled her by the sounds that came from her throat, but she didn’t stop until she had taken me all in. At this point, the TV in the background was one big blurred image. Charlene’s mouth was wrapped around the tip of my manhood like she was speaking into a microphone, then she asked , “Who’s winning the game, baby?” And then as if she had been qued, she waited until I opened my eyes, attempting to focus on the score of the game and offer some kind of answer, she repeatedly slide her mouth up and down my shaft. I tried to man up and get the score out as best I could without my voice crackering. The—The—the the, Lakers , Charlene says, baby how many points does Kobe and Shaq have? UM, UM, UM, I couldn’t think clearly, I couldn’t see the stats on the screen, my vision was blurred. My woman was sucking the damn vision out of me. I reached for the remote, fumbling until I found the power button. “She asked, honey you don’t want to finish watching the game?” Completely out of breath, I was bearly able to utter, No No F-that game. I must admit I was thinking there would always be time to catch the sports center highlights. At this point, Charlene knew she had my undivided attention, and the way she was focusing on me, I could plainly see she was determined to finish this job. I watched her until my head purposely fell back, my legs grew stiff and the rest of my body was completed relaxed on the couch. Within moments it was obvious that she had completed what she started.
After Charlene and I ate, we were on our way to the mall to pick out outfits for the 3rd annual small business Christmas Ball. The Ball was a collaboration of several CEO’s of small local businesses that wanted a Christmas Ball equiventant to those given by the Big Fortune 500 companies. The event had become a who’s who of events, meaning if you wanted to be recognized through the year, you were in attendance at this event. You didn’t just show up wearing some bullshit, you had to step out dressed to impress. And if you came with a women, she had better be a dime. For the past two years, I strolled in solo. There were a few that came close to gaining a invite from me, there were even a couple that invited me at their date, but none of them were true dimes. Sure, they looked the part, but failed to have anything intelegent or original to say. The essence to a true dime is a woman that is just as beautiful on the inside as they were on the outside. Most men brought dimes, because of the added attention it brought to him. It intrigued women to see a man with a beautiful women, this made him more appealing. That was the difference between men and women. A woman could compliment another woman on the way she looked or how nice her outfit was up together. There were so many nights that I could recall overhearing one women compliment another. “Girl those some sharp ass boots, and I love that matching purse. You doing the damn thang.” I would then here the same women that delivered the compliment, turn back to the group of women she was with, and state, “That bitch thinks she all that and a bag of chips.” But it was that attention that a true dime would bring to a man, seeming to make him more marketable. He had to be doing something right to have a dime on his arm.
In few days Charlene and I would make our official debut. We had did the movie and dinner scene, we even had frequented a few hot clubs, but never an event of this magnitude. This in itself was a loud statement to all the women that I had dated BC (Before Charlene), that I was no longer interested in what they had to offer. After a few months of the cold shoulder which consisted of unreturned phone calls, disregarded text messages, and failed attempts at having Willy Wonky and his Chocolate factory, most of the ladies got the point. Although there were still a few that were holding on to a dream. The difference between my Chocolate Factor and Rkelly’s was that none of the women I dealt with were under age, or had an incriminating video of me. So I wasn’t expecting any drama.
Before we went to the mall Marcus had to stop at his office to have a contract signed by some brothers he seemed really excited to do business with. He said this deal would launch him into a whole new market, because these brothers were well connected to some rich and high profiled individuals. I love watching my baby handle his business, but I got off more watching him handle his pleasure. I must admit he handled both extremely well. I remember asking him one night at dinner, “Sweetie what do you enjoy more, business or pleasure.” Before he responded he took a bite of his shrimp alfredo , not rushing into his answer. He took his time as he did with everything. He was a perfectionist that way, and wanted whatever he said to be 100% thought out. “Everything is business weather it is pleasing your woman, or making a client happy, so I prefer that all business done with me is a pleasure,” he responded, and then took another bite from his shrimp alfredo, as if he had just given he I have a dream speech. He looked up at me and we both laughed. I knew his answer was sincere, but he was being silly by acting cocky and arrogant, he was far from either.
When we arrived at his office, my phone began to ring. I looked at the caller ID and it was my girl Kenya. She had been out of town for about 4 or 5 days visiting her family. “Hey girl”, I said full of excitement. It had been a few days since I talked to her, so when Marcus asked was I coming up to the office with him, I told him I needed to catch up with Kenya, so I would wait in the car. “Go ahead and gossip, I’ll be right back” he said before he kissed me on the cheek and went into his office building. “Okay he gone. So how was the visit with your family,” I asked cautiously, bracing myself for an emotional breakdown. I wasn’t trying to be sneaking my not asking her this in front of Marcus, but he had no idea of her family background and even though I loved my man, I would never betray my best friend by telling her business.
Kenya was adopted at the age of seven by relatives after her mother choose her man over her child. Her mother’s half brother, his wife, and their two daughters made a home for Kenya. From the age of seven to fourteen, she was molested off and on, more on than off. Kenya blamed her family for the hell she went through, which really put a strain on the relationship she had with her mother, and those she considered family, including her grandmother and aunts. She felt they knew how her uncle was but choose to do nothing to stop him. So when she told me she was going to see her family, I was alittle more than surprised.
When she turned up pregnant at age 15, her Uncle beat her until she miscarried. She managed to call 911, and after an indepth investigation the authorities determined that not only that her Uncle had been molesting her, but he was also the father of her dead fetus. When the county was informed, the child protective agency investigated further and discovered that her Uncle’s wife had known what was going on the entire time. She even broke down in tears, and admitted that when Kenya was abandoned by her mother, she pursued getting custody of her to prevent her husband from touching their daughters. She knew of her husband’s weakness, and thought another child would keep him away from her girls.
She went on begging for forgiveness and stated that when her girls were young she found him in a compromising situation with them. She walked in and saw all three of them in the tub together. She said that sight was enough to make the terrible decision to bring an innocent child into a dysfunctional and harmful household. Her aunt said she regretted it everyday. The prosecutor of the case said she had yet to begin to know what regret truly felt like but that she would soon learn. The case got a lot of local attention, and once the reporters got hold of the story there was a lot of finger pointing within Kenya’s family. The grandmother blamed Kenya’s aunts, the aunts blamed the man that Kenya’s mother ran off with and once Kenya’s mother, who had been harder to locate then the Taliban cell Bin Laden hide in came out of hiding she blamed everyone but herself. When the trial came to a close, her uncles wife not only lost custody of the children she thought she was protecting by her horrific deed, but she also was sentenced to 3 ½ years in prison. The prosecutor then aimed her sights on Kenya’s uncle, she tried to get him for murder, for killing the baby that Kenya carried but the state wouldn’t convict him of murder, so she got him on felonious assault against a minor, domestic violence, staturtory rape, intimidation, molestation and every other tion and ing that she could throw at him until his sentence added up to 22 years. So when Kenya said she was going to see her family it was said with much sarcasm, although at the end of the trial, her mother, grandmother, and aunts wanted to take her in. Kenya told the Child Protection Agency if you send me to any of them I will runaway and with the Prosecuter right by Kenya’s side she added, if Kenya is placed back into the hands that did not protect her before, I will be forced to look into a case against the Children Protection Agency. Kenya’s “family visit” was actually her going to speak against her uncle being parolled after only serving 15 years. Kenya was face to face with all the people that ever hurt and/or betrayed her. Kenya’s mother, grandmother and her aunts were there to offer what little support they could, Kenya chose not to even sit near them. The Judge opened the floor and asked were there anyone that would like to speak on behalf of her uncle. Kenya began to tell me that his wife stepped up, I could hear Kenya’s voice begin to crack as tears flowed from her face when she started to repeat the testimony of his wife, “my husband has lost 15 years of being in his childrens life, they have missed years of his nurturing, gentle love”. Kenya said that’s when she lost it and blurted out load, “his love wasn’t fucking nurturing and gentle to me”. Kenya was also hurt that her cousins who when being raised, she considered her sisters looked down on her and even seemed to hold a grudge against her, like it was her fault that their father couldn’t keep his hands off of her, she was angry because they were able to go on with life without the baggage, counseling and years of therapy that Kenya went through. They went to college, had healthy relationships with men, and had a family, something she truly wanted. When I hear people make general comments, like I wish I was that beautiful or had that kind of money and then go on to say how they would never have anything to complain about. It bothers me because it is such an ignorant statement. I mean I will be the first to tell you my girl is gorgeous and has plenty of paper, especially with all the recommendation I throw her way. But to be perfectly honest, I wouldn’t want to switch places with the life she had lived by no means. As pretty as Kenya is, her experiences have made her extremely tough, predominately in terms of her relationships with the opposite sex. She doesn’t trust them. This I don’t blame her for, but she is too controlling. I guess having being controlled for so long by her Uncle she is determined to maintain the upper-hand at all times. We have been girls for so long, and I am committed to providing her with whatever she needs to get through it. As Kenya and I began to get on the subject of Marcus and I, I received an alert from my cell phone that I was being sent a text message. “Baby I will be down in a minute. Sorry the meeting took so long. Love Marcus.” I told Kenya to hold for a few while I read the message. When I returned to our conversation, I said, “Speak of the devil.” I had not even noticed that I had now been waiting for my boo for about 20 minutes. I guess gossiping really does make the time fly by. I told Kenya that I would call her after we came from the mall. “Okay, sis, call me later,” Kenya said.
Kenya and I had been calling each other sisters since the first night she broke down and told me the awful details of childhood. From the moment on, I vowed to Kenya and the lord, that I would be her sister, her friend, and her confidant.
Marcus strolled out of his office with two gentleman in tow. All of them were carrying briefcases. It was really nice seeing brothers looking all businesslike, instead of looking like they had no place to go fast with no directions to get there. They looked like they were ready to take over the world. With my Marcus leading the group this was a complete possibility.
I noticed the other two men were just as tall as Marcus. As they got closer, there seemed to be something more familiar about these two men. Maybe I had been sitting in the car for to long, or the fumes coming through the vents were causing me to see illusions, but I could swear that one of the men that was coming towards the car was my EX.
When Marcus and his followers got to the point where the parking lot splits, they all stopped, gave that ghetto boy handshake that starts with them gripping hand and both men pull into a half hug. It’s almost like a dance move. I’m surprised I haven’t seen it incorporated into a line dance. I could hear the instructions now. “Grip your partner by the hand, pull them close now clap your hands,” I think jokingly to myself.
After the men were finished with their brotherly good-byes, Marcus headed towards me while the other two men headed in a different direction. By this point they were close enough for me to verify why those two men looked so damn familiar. It was indeed my EX Lamar and his business partner.
I was standing about 15 feet away from him, having thoughts of jumping in Marcus’ SUV and running his tired ass down. Luckily my body couldn’t move, I was having too many thoughts rushing around in my head. Gratefully one was doing jail time. I was left in shock from my observation. Lamar was standing there with his so called “business partner”, the same F-ing business partner that I found him with in a compromising position with the day I surprised him by coming home early. I can’t believe those two fags are still mixing business with pleasure.
Now don’t get me wrong, I believe it the right to chose whomever you want to be with, but don’t be one of those DL brothers getting me involved in yo shit, and I mean that in every sense of the fucking word. My questions and concerns no longer had anything to do with Lamar and his “business partner” Jason, but I was now quite curious as to how Marcus was associated with these two individuals, and how was I going to tell Marcus Lamar was my EX.
Marcus opened the door, “Hey baby, let me introduce you to the brothers that are going to help me take my business to another level.”


© 2011 Gemini, Atlanta, GA
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.

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Texte: © 2011 Gemini, Atlanta, GA All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 22.06.2011

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This book is dedicated to the many people that believe in me.