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The Shit Men Do
by
Tina Brooks McKinney
"What!" Tremulus answered the voice that echoed inside her head. Some people would call this
voice a conscience but Tremulus called it the Nag! Sometimes Tremulous could even see her –
a dark, red rage with a blue bandanna tied around her head, neck swiveling from side to side
with each sharp accusation that was flung.
"Did you have to be so mean?" Nag hissed.
"Hump, that wasn’t mean. When I get mean, I will send you an email putting you on notice,"
Tremulus mumbled.
"What are you afraid of? Bin ain’t done nothing but treat you right!"
"Yeah, and how long will that last? Shoot as soon as I get comfortable with his azz and let
my guard down, he will be doing me the same way. I’m just doin him first!"
"Girlfriend, you lucky he didn’t knock you upside your damn head! You don’t just attack a
man’s dick like that and think he’s going to be alright with it!"
"I didn’t attack his dick! I just told him I wasn’t feeling him like that no mo!"
"’Ain’t feeling him’ equates to his dick, bitch! In his mind!" The Nag really had her head
wagging now. "Bin is a good man and you know it. He just doesn’t know how to tell you how he
feels."
"How he feels? Do you think that will make a difference to me? Honey please! I was done with
that years ago. Did you forget Dennis, David and Mike? I gave those niggas my heart and what
did they do? They trashed it!"
"I didn’t forget! Hell, I lived through it with you. But you can not judge every man by your
past experiences, by those failed standards. Unless you plan on ending up living with a
bunch of cats to keep you company!"
"I’m not having this conversation with you," Tremulus put her hands over her ears. The only
problem- the words came from within so, she couldn’t block out the voice of Reason.
"You are being straight up stupid. Bin is a good man and would have told you how he feels
about you if you weren’t such a bitch!"
Ouch. Suddenly it didn’t matter that I was talking to myself. Finally, I was listening.
"Did I mess up big time?"
"Hell yeah! The question is what are you willing to do about it. You have got to do some
soul searching and decide what will make you happy before you attempt to reconcile with Bin.
You owe it to Bin to be true to yourself."
"I don’t owe Bin a damn thang. He got off and left me hanging."
"You wouldn’t be hanging if you weren’t so damn cold. You cut yourself off and wasn’t even
paying attention to what he was doing to you! Don’t even start your lying cause I was there.
You blame Bin for all the disappointments in your life. He is trying to come correct and
your dumb ass can’t see it."
Tremulus couldn’t even answer herself. Flash backs of the last three months played in her
mind as she sat down on the rumpled bed.
Truth be told, Bin was having an effect on her and it scared her stupid. It was sex and
touches. He had this one endearing habit of sticking his finger in her bellybutton after
sex. She didn’t know what it was about that connection but he would touch her, kiss her neck
and immediately drift off to sleep. Not to mention what it did for her. His gentle snoring
in her ear lulled her off to sleep as well feeling safe and secure.
Frustrated, she got off the bed and began pacing the bedroom back and forth. She thought
back to the nights when Bin would turn over thrusting his legs in between hers snuggling
against her back. Yeah, Bin was getting waaayyyy to comfortable with their situation.
"How does he know I like that?"
"Cause he loves you," Reason spoke again.
"When did Nag turn into Reason?"
Wanting to ignore Reason again, Tremulus turned on the television, flipping channels but not
much was on at three in the morning except sex shows and she certainly didn’t want to think
about that. She turned off the set and went to sit in her favorite easy chair curling her
long supple legs underneath her.
She thought about the many nights that she’d shared with Bin and how attentive he really was
to her. She remembered all those times when bad dreams chased her awake with a scream in her
head, only to be comforted by a gentle squeeze or pat on her leg. Or the times when he would
wake to make sure she was covered up just cause she sneezed.
Tremulus didn’t need Reason to tell her she made a mistake. Bin was a good man. Staring at
the red LED display she realized that it was too early to call him to apologize. In fact, he
wouldn’t even be home since he lived almost an hour away.
A sharp rap at the door startled her. Grabbing her robe she rushed to the door. Peering
through the peephole, her breath caught in her throat. He came back!
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Tremulous
Tremulus sat peacefully in the dark. The darkness was black and mysterious, enchanting, and
in the depth of the shadows she could stare deeply at nothing-- and find no meaning at all.
She had grown accustomed to the nothingness, to the nighttime play that fueled her, that
drove her upward to the apex of sexual daring, before finally leaving her empty and ravaged.
Her passion often went 'bump' in the night.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed, her petite toes lightly touching the floor. The
steady breathing of Bin emanated from behind her. Binjamin was her latest conquest and, like
any challenge, she found that once Bin was conquered he lost any of the provocative thrill
that came with the chase. Now she wondered why she even bothered with him at all.
Earlier in the night they had pounding, invigorating sex which ended when Bin's body went
stiff with her legs still wrapped around his back as her vagina pulsed and pulled at him.
She had nearly screamed at him when he came before she did, before she was able to connect
with her coochie spot. Trem started to object-- but the protest died in her throat when she
felt his climax inside of her-- and in that instant she knew that the affair was over.
She had met Bin at Club Midnite, a juke joint over on Warren Street, and there had been an
instant bump and grind attraction. They danced and flirted with each other, their harsh
breathing signifying the intensity of the friction created between them, and at the end of
the night Bin was momentarily at a loss when she bid him goodnight at her front door.
He recovered enough to kiss her cheek and ask for her phone number, which she refused to
give him, but then asked for his; taking special notice that he gave her the number to his
cell. Let the conquest begin!
Bin had proven to be an easy win. He had pretended to be hardcore; an uncaring thug with an
attitude problem, but his lust had melted his hardened exterior and soon he was dancing to
Trem's tune. When she finally allowed Bin into her bed he was mesmerized by her sex skills
which resulted in him making the fatal mistake of attempting to make love to her.
Trem wasn't like that.
She found her climax in hard, lustful strokes, in the rugged clitoral stimulation that
resulted from the unique sensation brought about by the raging firmness of a man's length
and girth. As far as she was concerned, a man's sex was tied directly to his thuggish heart
and she wanted a rough, jackhammer beat; staccato yet continous, direct but diisjointed,
pounding yet varied. He had to hit the clit and make it jump!
Bin had complied-- to the best of his ability, and he had been able to maintain a roughboy
stance whenever they did have sex, but he quickly lost his edge. His failure to bring her
to an orgasm tonight was the last straw, a signal to Trem that it was time to break it off.
She looked over at Bin sprawled out on her bed. She could barely make out his features in
the darkness but her memory of him filled in the spaces. He was all muscle, tall and solid,
naturally well built, but it was his intense stare that drew her to him. His eyes were
penetrating and intense with a hint of danger lurking behind the veil... and she liked
things dark.
Trem contemplated the method she would use to get rid of Bin. She realized that subtlety
would be a waste of time and decided on the direct approach. She moved over on the bed and
nudged him from his sleep.
"Bin!" He didn't stir. She pushed harder. "Bin!"
His eyes fluttered open for a second and then closed. "Baby..."
"Wake up! Wake up!" She nudged him again. He blinked at her slowly, fighting off the
remnants of sleep. "You gots to go!" Trem said. "Now!"
"Damn!" Bin rolled over. "You trippin'."
"Get up, Bin!" Trem raised her voice. "I ain't trippin'! And I ain't playing with you
either. I'm dead serious. Wake up."
Bin turned his head to look at her, a heavy breath hissing from his lips as he came fully
awake.
"I'm not feeling this thing anymore," Trem's voice came from the darkness.
"This thing?" Bin turned fully to face her. "Woman, you better.... What thing?"
Trem reached over to the lamp by the bedside and clicked it on. A soft red light filled the
room and she turned to look Bin in the eyes. "This thing," she continued. "This setup ain't
working for me anymore. I'm just not feeling it anymore."
"Baby, what are you talking about," Bin watched her. "What kinda shit you talkin'?"
"It ain't shit," Trem's voice was flat as she sat up and faced him. "It's what I want. And
you ain't it no more."
"For real?" Bin was fully awake now. Alert. "So what? You hard-core now? You can't care
no more? For nobody?"
"It ain't all that," Trem replied. "And it ain't all that serious! We was fucking before
and now I don't want to fuck no more! That's it! So what's the problem?" She turned and
got out of the bed and stood looking down at Bin. "I'm sure this ain't nothing new to you.
Ain't nothing that you haven't been through with all these chickenheads out here tapping on
your ass. You know the game! When the sex ain't tight enough for you, and you hit it and
quit it! This the same game -- just a different name. That's all!"
"Yeah," Bin said. "I guess." He watched her for a moment before he got out of the bed and
began to get dressed. "Yeah, Trem. I know. You want to limit this shit to just fuckin'. I
guess that you still out here looking for the perfect dick, right? But you only foolin'
yourself." Bin pulled his pants on and reached for his shirt. His eyes never left Tremulous
while he began buttoning it up. "I seen how you try to be all hard and shit! The way you
ain't try to do nuthin but straight bangin' whenever we in the bed. I noticed that shit! I
thought I could....like... change..." He paused and fixed his gaze upon her, started to say
something but gave up and reached down for his sneakers by the bed. He sat on the bed with
his back to her, tying his Jordan's before he spoke again. "I guess I couldn't get next to
you. Couldn't find that spot that want to be made love to. That soft spot that women got.
Even you. But that's all right though. 'Cause I'm a fucking man! And I can handle mine, so
I ain't stressing!"
He straigtened up and turned to her. Emotions played across his face. Feelings he couldn't
-- or wouldn't-- put into words formed a lump in his throat, expressions that were just out
of his verbal reach. "You better find out what you want," he said. "Because the want... the
hotness... sure ain't gonna find you." With that he turned and walked out of the room.
Tremulous stood there in the darkness until she heard her front door shut, followed by his
footsteps fading down the hallway. Seconds later she heard his car door shut and the rough
ratchet of the engine before Bin pulled away and went roaring into the night. She climbed
back into the bed, turned off the light and fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.
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What Do Women Want
by
A-Dorian
Tremulous is like my own personal dope - she makes me feel good, she gets me high, but I
know that I need to quit while the quitting is good. In the end, I know that she ain't no
good for me.
Yeah! She's like a bad habit. Like a bitter pill with no limitations... and I don't know
what she wants! It sure ain't me or nothing that I got! That much is sure as shit.
Well, I'm a man I tell you and you ain't gots to tell me three times. I can thump my chest
with the best of them. Umma man! Ain't no woman controlling this! Umma man and I'm gonna
be true to this. Its a man's world and life is straight up 'manly'!
I just can't figure out what the hell she wants... shit!
Bin wrenched the steering wheel and the car screeched around the corner. He had a mad
grimace on his face, an _expression he had been wearing for hours - since he had stormed out
of Trem's house - and he could see streaks of light breaking through the darkness as the sun
rose over the horizon. He hadn't stopped cursing since he had climbed behind the wheel.
What do women want?
Sigmund Freud couldn't even figure that one out.
One thing was for sure, Bin mused. They sure don't want a for real nigga. They like them
soft brotha's. The ones that will lie to them and tell them what they wanna hear. And deep
inside, Trem was one of those women too. 'Cause a real nigga will do the showing - not the
telling. Not the bumping the gums and running off at the mouth or the blah, blah, blah or
the fast macking game that will so often have a woman's walls come tumbling down like
Jericho. I can do that shit too! Shit!
Bin stepped on the gas and sped up the street. Music blared from his car speakers.
How you do dat, dat? How you do dat, dat?
Bin reached over and turned up the volume and began to sing along.
"I can do that, that. Yeah! I can do that, that."
He was tripping! And he knew it. Didn't care though. Because it didn't matter. Nothing
did. He added his own verse to the song on the radio.
"You got me straight trippin', boo! I can do that, that! Yeah! I can do that, that!
Straight trip-pin'! I can do that, that."
He pulled up to a red light and a moment of introspection settled over him. Images of the
curve of Trem's hips, her lips, the way that her body thrashed when she was underneath him,
the way her ass undulated, moving like a lustful wave of the ocean whenever they sexed doggy
style - all those pictures flashed across his mind in full color. He felt his heartbeat
sigh.
Trem is like... Bin searched for the word as the light turned green and he started up the
block. Trem is like both lust and longing to me. I feel for her and I got some love for
her too. Trem is like... like... perfect!
Revelation slowly dawned upon him, his face opened up with the realization. His tires
squeeled as he swung a U-turn and sped back toward Tremulous' house. "For me. She's
perfect. I know what she wants. 'Cause she's all that... I just gotta tell her. That's
all. I gotta find the words. Show her and tell her, because showing her ain't enough,
right?"
Bin raced toward Tremulous - armed with the knowledge that he had to come to her emotional
rescue because she didn't know what she wanted her own damn self! And he was going to make
up her mind for her.
He pulled up to her house and hopped out of the car. A red light glowed through her bedroom
window and Bin paused to gather his thoughts. Trem was what he desired. The ache inside
him yearned for her touch. He only hoped he could find the words to touch her.
He knocked on her door. And waited.
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