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#njobu smut
griots-tales · 1 year
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With the arrival of canon saphhics in the movie, I wanna get this out:
 Reblog or comment any and all LGBT+ Wakandan fics you’ve heard of and don’t forget to link them if you can! 
Rules:
WHAT COUNTS?
The story must have a speaking/ acting character who’s not cishet/allo. The story counts as a ‘Queer Story’ (to me) when either the main character or someone in their circle who appears a lot in the plot, isn’t cishet/allo.
There doesn’t need to be adult stuff or romance for it to be queer. Even a tiny drawing about a twelve year old T’Challa coming out at trans, or a plot based fic about Shuri who happens to be ace counts.
Bi/Pan/etc. characters in m/f relationships count. 
For art, anything depicting gay ships or pride flags with characters will count. It can be edits, gifs, comics or drawings.
It can be from anywhere like here or AO3 or wattpad, as long as it can be linked.
WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO YOUR STORY?
Your story will not be here if it ships adults and kids or inc3st or any bigoted stuff.
It will be categorized as (SFW or 18+) > (orientation of characters) > (who is the main character) > (warnings and pairings)
This masterlist is also inclusive of minors, so (ONLY THIS POST, NOT MY BLOG, MIND YOU) we’ll be using strict segregation of fics, possibly into two masterlists. 
You must inform if your fic has pornographic or dark content. An age rating from you is also preferred. I feel that queer kids should also be able to access black panther content without sifting through mature stories.
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uzumaki-rebellion · 5 years
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Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 2, Chapter 21
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Summary: Prince N’Jobu meets King T’Chaka’s future new wife first...and his 9-year-old son Erik meets a bit of his mother Califia’s past back in Oakland...
"You make me feel like a natural man, yeah (A natural woman)
You don't even gotta waste time
It's just natural, romantic, yeah
And we don't gotta take it slowly
You could break my body, baby
You're all that I need, yeah
Perfect for me, yeah (perfect for me, yeah)
You're gonna make me feel like I never felt
And fall like I never fell
Care like we never cared
And love like we never will…"
Desire B & Marnino Toussaint – "Never Will"
Umama sat and watched N'Jobu as he ate a full breakfast. The sunroom was filled with fresh flowers from the royal garden and the overwhelming spread of gourmet foods before him actually made him miss the simple breakfasts with his woman and son back home.
Home.
His real home. Califia and Erik. They were his center.
"You are very quiet this morning," Baba said, staring at N'Jobu.
"He just arrived in the middle of the night. Jet lag, my son?" Umama said as she patted his hand.
N'Jobu felt the curious eyes of T'Challa and W'Kabi on him as the boys helped themselves to seconds and thirds of sliced fruit and sweet breads. T'Chaka was equally quiet, but N'Jobu sensed that he was waiting to speak more openly once they were alone.
"I am tired, but I will be fine," N'Jobu said picking up wild honey plum slices to add to the pieces of pineapple already on his plate.
Umama glanced over at T'Chaka.
"We will be attending the Ti'Azan Gallery opening tonight," Umama said. Her tone alone let N'Jobu know something was up.
"I am looking forward to seeing the new artwork coming out of Djata," Baba said.
N'Jobu watched his parents tiptoe up to their real reason for bringing up the gallery opening. They were so obvious that N'Jobu quickly popped a piece of honey plum in his mouth to keep from laughing at them.
T'Chaka sliced into his grilled pork breakfast medallions on his full plate.
"I am too. I hear that Matsimela's daughter will be accompanying him tonight," Umama said.
T'Chaka put down his utensils and stared at his parents with a slight smirk on his mouth.
"Stop it, you two," T'Chaka said.
T'Challa giggled and N'Jobu let a wide smile crease his lips.
"I hear that she is no longer training Dora Milaje recruits—"
"Umama, please. Enough. I know what you are trying to do. I will go to this gallery opening, and I will meet this woman. Is everyone satisfied now?" T'Chaka said.
"Ramonda, her name is Ramonda," Umama said.
"Is she nice?" T'Challa asked.
"Very nice, and she loves children—" Umama said.
"Umama—" T'Chaka said, his face looking defeated.
"I too look forward to meeting Matsimela's daughter," N'Jobu said, trying to rub it in.
"Perhaps you should be looking for a wife of your own, Brother," T'Chaka said. N'Jobu couldn't tell if his brother was being serious or not.
"My work would make that difficult—"
"I am thinking of changing some things. Boys, it looks like you are both done eating. Please excuse yourselves so we can speak privately," T'Chaka said.
Disappointment on their faces, the boys said their goodbyes and left the sunroom. T'Chaka waited a few minutes and then looked N'Jobu in the eye.
"What changes?" N'Jobu said doing his best to make his voice calm and nonchalant.
"Moving some war dogs around, bringing some back home permanently."
Acid churned in N'Jobu's stomach. He wanted to drink the water next to his plate, but he was afraid that his hand would shake if he did so.
"Why?" N'Jobu asked.
"New eyes, new patterns of intel gathering…besides, Umama misses you and I need you to fulfill your true role as my Ambassador. Therefore, it is time for you to return home, take your place as our representative in the world, and get married."
"Yes, I agree. It is your duty now son to be with us again," Umama said.
"I strongly disagree with that plan," N'Jobu said.
Silence.
He had to think of something to say to deflect and convince them all otherwise. He was not expecting this. And Bast help him, surely his brother wasn't planning on him staying there now. Califia and Erik's face flashed in his mind. He felt his forehead crease and his jaw tighten. He told his family not to worry. Told them he would return to them. If they kept him there, if his brother insisted that he stay, he would have to escape from the country, go AWOL, maybe even move Erik and Califia out of Oakland—
"Hopefully you have a reasonable timetable for switching out war dogs. I feel that any sudden changes would cause suspicion—"
"I have already begun the process."
"My intel has been very fruitful and I am embedded in that community fully. If I am removed—"
"All will be handled with a smooth transition. Your Intel has been fruitful and very important. But I need you here with me. Our people love you and I believe your presence here at home can help me turn the tide of dissent."
"There was a vid special about T'Challa turning twelve and they played the old recording of you singing to Bathwandwa when she was carrying him. The social chatter about you lit up the public for weeks, N'Jobu. Our people want to see you more, and your positive popularity crosses all political quadrants. You being here and standing by your brother's side could help all of our people," Baba said.
"This is true," T'Chaka said.
His people.
N'Jobu tried not to show any consternation in his being, but he no longer felt connected to Wakandan people anymore. His people were out there in the world.
"As it stands, Baby Brother, Ambassador Obi tells me he shall retire at the end of this next term and he is willing to start a transition team for you within the next two years. So, continue to do your work well for me, and tonight, let us see what wives Umama has picked out for us this time."
Umama laughed, but when she saw N'Jobu's face, she touched his hand again.
"I should…I should go get some rest. I feel a bit drained, and I need to be ready for tonight," N'Jobu said standing up suddenly and gripping the dining table with his hand to hold his balance.
Two years.
He had two fucking years left to do what he needed to do.
###
"Take your time, JaJa…there you go…there you go…."
Califia pressed the gas pedal of her car gently so that her vehicle moved slowly. Erik sat on her lap turning the steering wheel. They were in their own townhouse complex parking structure. There had been rain earlier in the day, but as the evening came down, there was only a slight drizzle, and no one was outside because of it.
"Not so fast, Mom!"
"I'm not going fast, we're barely moving!"
She held his waist as his hands clung to the steering wheel nervously trying to straighten out the front tires.
"Turn a little harder," she said. When her hands went up to help him, he leaned forward.
"I got it! I got it! Let me do it!"
They both started giggling as he made a wide turn back into their parking section.
"Let's see if you can park it," she said giving the car a little more gas.
"I can," he said.
"You got it, baby," she whispered as he guided the car into their parking space. She put the hatchback in park and pulled the emergency break up.
Erik leaned back into her and she kissed his cheek.
"You did it," she said.
Erik hopped out of the car and she followed him.
It was a good day for them and she was ready for a shower and some dinner.
"Don't forget to bring down your bag of Goodwill stuff. Grandpop is going to pick it up tomorrow when comes over to fix the toilet."
The downstairs bathroom toilet kept running after each flush and her father refused to let her call a plumber when he could fix it himself. He was worried about their income since she wasn't working.
She walked into her bedroom and lifted the bag of clothes she was donating from off of her bed and placed it onto the floor near the bedroom door.
Her laptop was on the bed and she flipped it on. She checked for messages from N'Jobu and was happy to see a taped face chat link. Before she could open it, N'Jobu was already online sending a private chat link to her. He must've been on his computer and waiting for her to log in.
She ran to her bureau mirror and checked her hair and face. Once she felt she looked decent enough for him, after rolling a bit of tinted lip gloss on, she hopped back on her bed and opened his link.
"Baby," she said, "Wow, look at you."
N'Jobu was dressed in an elaborate dark suit with a colorful gold scarf draped over one shoulder. His hair was freshly cut and he had diamond earrings studded in his ears. And those amazing gold slugs were back on his teeth. Moments like this reminded her that her man was royalty and when he was with his people, he showed up and showed the fuck out. Jesus, he was still so fine. She felt herself swooning.
"Califia."
"Huh?" she said.
"You okay?"
"It's you. I mean, damn N'Jobu."
"I'm going to an art show. Not my idea of fun without you," he said.
Art shows. Fancy meals. Servants. Chauffeurs. Bodyguards. High Society.
And here she was going through old clothes to donate and trying to figure out what to fix for her and Erik to eat in less than twenty minutes and hoping their toilet didn't overflow until her father could fix it.
"You look gorgeous. I'm jealous."
"How was your day today?"
"Good. Erik and I cleaned out our closets for Goodwill. We visited Rolita and her mother. Oh, my father is coming over to fix the toilet tomorrow. It started running—"
"Mom!"
Erik's distraught voice startled Califia. N'Jobu's face was full of alarm. She stood up and saw Erik standing in her bedroom doorway.
"What's wrong?"
He stepped forward and her eyes swept his body looking for an injury or something. All he had in his hands was a yellow t-shirt. He held it out to her.
"Oh, JaJa…come here, come here…"
She held her arms out for him.
"What is it?" N'Jobu asked, his face full of worry.
She pulled Erik onto the bed and let him rest his head on her lap. He was crying and Califia held up the t-shirt for N'Jobu to see.
"JaJa," N'Jobu whispered when he saw Lia's face on the old political t-shirt Erik loved so much. He must've gone through his closet again to check for old things he didn't want and found the garment. He had been doing so well. Seeing her face unraveled him.
"Son, look at me. Look at me," N'Jobu said.
Erik shifted his head on Califia's lap and she rubbed his back to calm him. N'Jobu stared at his little boy.
"She's still with you. She's still here with us. Let her have those tears for a little while…then show her how you will carry her within you. Okay?"
She felt Erik nodding his head but a pitiful moaning sound was coming from his mouth and she felt herself beginning to lose it.
BeStrongBeStrongBeStrong…..
"Baba, my chest hurts so bad," Erik said.
"I know. I know. That pain takes time to go away, and Lia doesn't want you to hurt like that for her."
"I want you to come home!"
The high-pitched wailing from his little chest made Califia feel so small without N'Jobu there with them.
"I want to be home with you too. But Baba has to work so I can take care of you and Mom. You have school tomorrow, so you'll be busy…and what about the chess club? Do you think you want to join…?"
The mundane talk of school eased Erik's breathing, and once N'Jobu had him talking about choices of high school and online courses for the following year, their son had stopped crying and sat up from her lap. N'Jobu even had him laughing about his favorite anime and Califia felt her body ease into a relaxed state.
"Feeling better?" N'Jobu asked Erik.
"Yeah," Erik said.
"I'll keep this and you can watch some tv until I fix dinner, okay?" Califia said.
"Okay. Bye, Baba."
"Bye, JaJa."
Erik stepped off of their bed and left the bedroom. Califia heard him head down the stairs. She looked back at N'Jobu and took a deep breath.
"That was rough," she said.
"It will come and go," he said.
She looked at his suit again and reached out to touch his face on the screen.
"I better go cook us dinner. Babe…you really look amazing."
N'Jobu stared at her and in that moment, she felt what he was thinking and it made her feel desired and loved. She broke eye contact with him and just looked at his clothes again.
"I will be offline for a few days. I just wanted to check in with you."
She nodded and saw him look over his shoulder.
"I better get going," he said.
"Okay."
His screen went dark.
Califia sat for a few minutes, quietly centering herself before she went downstairs to cook for herself and Erik.
###
The gallery was packed.
Once word spread that Prince N'Jobu was in the city, many favors were called in for people who desired to attend the opening to see him.
N'Jobu spent most of his time near his parents, escorting his mother whenever his father was hemmed up by supporters and friends. He took one moment alone to grab a glass of honey wine and to check out a small mixed media painting hidden behind a floating wall. The art piece in front of him was intriguing, a depiction of Warrior Falls that shifted its design perspective depending on where one stood. Looking at it from the middle, it looked like the Falls at midday. But if one walked past it from left to right, the sunlight moved as if it were a time-lapse of morning to night. Clever. He glanced down at the name of the artist on the title card underneath it.
"Interesting piece, is it not Prince N'Jobu?"
N'Jobu glanced to his right and noticed the svelte figure of a dark brown-skinned woman with short stylish locs swept to one side of her head. Kohl-lined eyes that reminded him of Califia's feline gaze peered back at him intently. Several thin silver choker necklaces encircled her throat. Her eggplant-colored strapless gown revealed shapely shoulders and the bone-white corset that cinched her waist drew his eye to the high shelf curve of her backside. Great Bast. Who was this?
"It is an engaging depiction of Warrior Falls," he said allowing his eyes to drift back to the art on the wall. The woman's direct gaze without the usual deference accorded him because of his status caught him off guard. He was accustomed to citizens fawning over him if they found themselves in his presence. This woman stood there as if he should know who she was. No automatic bowing or standing back from him, no "Your Highness," or "I shall leave you be."
She stood right next to him. Crept up on him in a stealth-like fashion. He stepped forward to re-claim his ownership of the space, but she stepped forward too and moved a little closer to him.
The hell?
He glanced at her again and then he tapped his kimoyo bead discreetly. Within seconds, Yejide stood near him.
"Your Highness?" Yejide said.
"Yejide!" the woman said rushing forward and embracing the Dora.
Now wait just a damn minute, N'Jobu thought as the woman brushed past him as if Yejide were the most important person in the world.
"Lady Ramonda!" Yejide said, standing stiffly, trying to stay on her task of assisting her Prince, but clearly excited to see….
Ramonda.
Oh, so this was the woman his parents wanted his brother to meet. A possible future Queen.
N'Jobu really stared at her now.
"Do not worry about him, I promise no harm will befall your charge," Ramonda said winking her eye at N'Jobu. He couldn't help by smile at her lack of deference now. She really didn't give a care that he was royalty.
"So, you are the Ramonda—" N'Jobu started to say, stepping forward to get a more proper introduction, but she turned her back on him and linked arms with Yejide pulling her aside, ignoring N'Jobu completely.
"How are you, sister? I have been hearing glowing reports about your work in the palace," Ramonda said.
Poor Yejide let her eyes focus on N'Jobu. He held up his hands freeing her to interact with the assertive woman.
"I am well, Lady Ramonda—"
"Is Ometeko still paired with you?"
"Yes…Your Highness?"
N'Jobu smiled and motioned for Yejide to leave them alone. Yejide bowed, gave Ramonda a look, and pivoted her legs in a severe military turn to refocus herself on her job.
"I remember when she first tried out to be a Dora. So timid. I was not so keen on keeping her in the ranks. But look at her now," Ramonda said as she turned on her heel to face N'Jobu again. She must've read something in his face because she smiled coyly and finally lowered her head to him, "I hope she has earned your respect, Your Highness."
"She and Ometeko, both. Lady Ramonda, is it?"
"Yes, Your Highness. Lady Ramonda Nkoli," she said.
"Daughter of Matsimela," he said.
"Yes."
Ramonda's eyes went back to the art on the wall.
"Did you notice the bit of detail on the waterfall?" she said moving closer to the painting and pointing to a spot near the top.
N'Jobu moved forward to see what she was talking about.
"It shimmers," he said as he looked at the mica flakes embedded in the blue of the water on the piece. His eyes met hers again and he found himself becoming more enchanted with her. All he knew about her was that she had been a Dora for his mother years ago while he was away in London for undergrad studies. She rose in ranks and was hand-picked to leave the Dora Milaje in direct action and to become a trainer for future Doras.
A server wandered into the area with fresh glasses of honey wine and Ramonda grabbed one and N'Jobu replaced his with a fresh one.
"Here's to interesting art," he said clinking his glass with hers.
"And to interesting people," she replied.
At that moment he realized she was flirting with him. Bast help him. All the disregard for protocol made sense now. Did she not know why she was really brought to this opening?
"I am going to check out the sculptures now. Please excuse me," he said moving past her.
"Do you mind if I come with you? I have not had the opportunity to see the sculptures myself. I have been hiding out here from my parents," she said.
For the first time, N'Jobu saw uncertainty in her eyes.
"Why are you hiding out?" he asked.
"I thought I was here to enjoy the art, but my parents…they are trying to set me up…introducing me to someone, and I am not in the mood to pretend like I am interested tonight. Do you mind being my buffer? Just for a little while?"
Now he was really taken in by her. She had no clue what was happening to her, and she unknowingly wanted him to keep her away from some random dude that happened to be his brother. He wanted to laugh out loud, but he grinned instead.
"I suppose I could assist you. You do not know anything about the man your parents have fixed you up with?"
"They have been trying to marry me off for years, and I keep telling them to let me be on that topic. But what I can I do?"
"Follow me," he said turning away from her.
He kept two steps ahead of her as she tried her best to walk next to him. Yejide followed them and when they reached the hall of sculptures, he got stuck for a few minutes greeting some dignitaries, and then he was able to move into the space.
He walked with Ramonda, always keeping ahead of her, and he could tell this bugged her until she caught on that he expected her to stay in her place when interacting with him. She finally got the hint that she was not on his level and he noticed that she made sure to stay at least two body lengths away from him and not shoulder to shoulder.
She was very critical of the sculptures, but the ones she did like, he liked them too. She had a sharp eye for detail and once they began talking about certain pieces, he learned that she was also a sculptor and almost went into art full time before she became a Dora Milaje. They talked and walked and after a time he had to ask her a question.
"Why did you leave the corps?" he asked, curious to know why she removed herself from that career.
"I missed being out in the field. When I worked for the Queen Mother, she always told me I should train up the Doras to be like me. That was such a high compliment. I loved working for her, and I was very happy training future Doras. But now…I actually would like to take a break and explore art again. I rented a small house near the Jabari mountains that I want to convert into a studio. However, I have to muddle through this thing with my parents. I made an agreement with them. They allow me a year of peace to sculpt without judgment of my life choices, and I would go on a few meet and greets with suitable men."
"You are not interested in marriage?" he asked.
"I am. But I would like to take this time to work with my hands in creative ways again. Not just teaching the Doras how to break necks in the most efficient way possible."
N'Jobu laughed out loud, and Ramonda smiled wide. Her eyelids crinkled at the corners when she did, and her lips made her mouth look inviting. How many hearts had she broken when she became a Dora and dedicated her life to the throne? He wondered.
"What are you looking for in a partner?" he asked.
She rattled off a litany of the usual things most people wanted, and somehow the topic switched to food and then politics and then art again. She was delightful and didn't back down from her convictions, especially when it came to opinions about T'Chaka. She didn't even care that she was speaking to the brother of the King. Her biggest judgment was that she felt that T'Chaka kept himself too far apart from their people. His way of ruling was impersonal and off-putting because he separated himself from society.
She was right.
Her eyes studied his face, and he felt himself becoming uncomfortable being alone with her in the section of the sculpture space they were in.
"I need to return to my parents. Shall I escort you to yours?" he said.
She looked disappointed. Her smile faded.
"I thank you for sharing your knowledge of the work here. I wish you success with your own artistic endeavors…"
Yejide stepped forward, and N'Jobu began to feel awkward trying to get away from Ramonda. It was a weird feeling. He wanted to hang with her because she was interesting and had unique insights on how the new art coming out of Birnin Djata really reflected the state of their country, but at the same time, this was to be his brother's possible courtship dance, and Ramonda was acting like N'Jobu had just broken up with her.
"I am sure the man your parents would like for you to meet here will keep you entertained."
Ramonda shrugged her shoulders.
"Hopefully he will be as gracious and as enjoyable as you, Your Highness," she said.
"I doubt that very much, but he can sure try," N'Jobu said getting her to smile again.
"Too bad he is not you," she said as her eyes caught a look at something behind him.
N'Jobu turned to see his brother walking up to them with an older couple along with his own mother.
"Ramonda, daughter, come and greet the Queen Mother, and King T'Chaka," the older woman said.
Ramonda's eyes grew wide, and she glanced back at N'Jobu again.
"Trust me, he is not as gracious or as enjoyable as me. But he will not bore you, Lady Ramonda," N'Jobu said.
"Lady Ramonda," T'Chaka said, reaching for Ramonda's hand.
N'Jobu heard the slight turn of pitch in his brother's voice. Ramonda was not what he expected. As his brother kissed Ramonda's hand, N'Jobu could tell that T'Chaka was smitten already. His eyes were glued to her face. Their mother looked pleased. Like the cat that snared the canary.
N'Jobu greeted Ramonda's parents and then he excused himself. His eyes sought out Ramonda's one last time before leaving. They were still bewitching eyes, her expression letting him know that she was not in a million years expecting anyone like this. And something else was there too.
Disappointment again.
###
Califia stood by the sound system and watched her class of dancers execute her choreography just short of perfection. It was Saturday and she felt a ripple of pleasure course through her body as she enjoyed the feeling of sweat and movement on her own body.
Dante stood in the corner uncovering his drum with his drum corps as they waited for her session to end so that his beginning capoeira class could begin.
"One last time y'all, from the top. Get it in!" Califia yelled as the dancers got into formation again. She saw Erik hanging near his grandfather watching, his right foot tapping in time to the massive beats that rattled the floor.
Califia slid her feet over to him shaking her hips, drawing his eyes to her face as she held out her hands encouraging him to join her. He shook his head while looking away from her and she pranced in front of him doing one of his signature moves that made him laugh.
Dante started warming up his drum. Joining in time to the music on the sound system. The bells hanging above the front door jangled and James walked in carrying his drum bag. Whenever N'Jobu was gone for a period of time, James was always there, watching over them. Dante convinced him to start drumming on Saturdays and James came faithfully, improving his technique.
The music really started rocking when the rest of the drummers joined Dante in playing and Erik finally eased in front of her following her steps. The two of them danced together in sync and James pulled out his cell to tape them.
"Go Erik, go Erik, go Erik…" the class chanted and her son leveled up his moves.
"Whatchu got little boy, huh?" she challenged and Erik stopped and bent his left knee, placing his hands on it and just letting his right-side move, popping his booty out, imitating the girls in the class.
The drums thundered and Califia spun around grabbing Erik's hands and pulling him closer to her.
"Aye, from the top again!" Califia yelled to the class as Dante walked over with his drum strapped to his waist and standing in front of Califia and Erik. The rhythmic hip hop beats flowed easily with the drumming as she danced next to Erik in front of the mirrors. Everybody that moved in the space was on point and when they reached the end of the choreo, Califia cartwheeled into a handstand and then swiped her legs around Erik.
Dante placed his drum on the floor and slid into the action, and Erik stepped back allowing his grandfather to play with Califia too, the three of them twisting and turning, their bodies bending and jumping. James moved in closer with his cell.
"Erik, say hi to your Dad so I can send him this," James called out.
Erik waved at the phone and Califia lifted him up from behind and Erik dissolved into peals of laughter as she twirled him like he was a carousel.
"Califia," James called to her and she looked at his phone and crossed her eyes while sticking out her tongue.
"Hey, babe," she said to the cell.
James turned his phone camera back on his face.
"JoJo, she was saying that to you, not me," James said.
The door bells jangled again and Califia put Erik down when she saw who walked in. He was a bit leaner and his hair was longer, but those deep-set eyes looked the same as when she first saw them when she was fifteen.
"Cedric," she said. Confusion prickled her face and she moved over to the sound system turning off the music.
"Thanks, everyone," she said clapping her hands and walking over to Cedric. The class scattered as the transition from one session to the next began.
"Hey," she said feeling awkward, especially in front of Erik who was watching Cedric curiously. Cedric stepped into her personal space and held out his hands for a hug, and she gave him one, making sure not to act overly familiar with him.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"Had a layover, decided to see if this place was still here—"
"Mom," Erik said handing her bottled water and standing right next to her.
Cedric looked at Erik when he heard "Mom" and a smile appeared on his face.
"Hey there, what's your name?" Cedric asked.
"What's yours?" Erik tossed back.
Califia stared at her boy and Cedric chuckled.
"Fair enough. I'm Cedric," he said holding out his hand.
"Erik," her son said shaking the man's hand.
"Strong grip young man," Cedric said.
Erik looked up at her face and Califia could really sense the internal interrogation going in Erik's head.
A layover in Oakland? She didn't believe that for one minute.
"How long is your layover?"
"Just a few hours. Just took a chance and…well here you are."
"Hi," Dante said sticking out his hand toward Cedric, "I'm Dante, her father."
"How's it going, sir? I know Califia from Martha's Vineyard. Grew up with Bakari."
"Yeah…oh, yeah, okay. Glad to meet you. Excuse me, I have a class to start. Califia, I can get Eugene to do the drum for me."
"Erik, do you mind helping Grandpop while I talk?" Califia said.
She could tell Erik didn't want to, more interested in this strange man talking to her. She wondered if his father told him to act like this while he was gone.
"Erik?" she said again and her son stepped away from her and reached for Dante's drum on the floor and moved it back with the other drummers.
Califia had Cedric follow her to a back section that had folding chairs set up. They seated themselves and Cedric surveyed the space. He looked back at her as Dante's students trickled in and began warming up on the floor.
"So…motherhood really agrees with you, Cali. You look great," he said.
"A little heavier," she said touching her stomach.
"It fits you," he said as his eyes glossed over her short leggings and tank top.
"I saw you and your son tearing it up through the window. That was pretty cool."
Cedric's eyes went to her naked ring finger and then glanced over at Erik again.
"Yeah, he's a great kid. Takes after his Dad a lot, so the two of them together can be a little crazy," she said letting him know Erik's father was in the picture.
"I just wanted to see you again. You don't really do personal social media, but I saw the website for here, and so…you know…"
She looked at his left hand and saw a wedding band.
"Married, huh?"
"Divorcing."
"Sorry to hear that."
"You?"
"I'm with Erik's Dad. Going strong," she said.
"I have two daughters and a son," he said.
"Oh, wow. You've been busy," she said laughing, "Pictures?"
He pulled out his phone and showed a family photo. Good-looking children. His wife…ex-wife, looked how she always imagined the woman he would end up with would look like. Conservative and perfectly coiffed hair. Good make-up. Body still trim. Children miniature versions of them both. Classy and safe. The oldest girl looked to be about seven.
"You keep up with Albert?" she said.
"He's still single. Has a son with a woman in Maryland."
Califia watched Erik keep the lead drum beat in place of her. They watched her father lead his class in basic moves.
She wondered if Cedric came looking for her to see if he could get next to her again since he was divorcing. She kept her personal stuff off of social media for N'Jobu's sake. The things she did have online were private and open to only a tiny number of people.
"Can I take you and your son out to eat?"
She had to admit she was curious about him. Curious about the goings on back in Oak Bluffs.
Free food for her and Erik and a distraction from missing N'Jobu.
Why not?
###
"But if Godzilla is a replicant and can regenerate whenever he wants to, why would they stay on the planet? They can't kill him, so why not go to a new planet?"
Cedric looked confused and starving for the answer to his question. Erik twirled his fork in his hand and gave an exasperated sigh.
"Because it's the only planet that can sustain life and they lost all their tech and can't rebuild their ship," Erik said.
Califia savored the French onion soup she ate along with her ribeye steak. Erik enjoyed a gourmet hamburger with sweet potato fries along with Cedric who ordered the same thing. Erik had been a little stand-offish with Cedric as he sat between them, but once Cedric mentioned that his daughter was into the new Godzilla animated series, Erik's eyes perked up and they discussed the show non-stop.
"But if the monster planet has the resources to create metal and a lot of their housing, why couldn't they re-build their ship too?"
"I don't write the show, I just watch it," Erik said and Cedric burst out laughing making Erik smile.
Cedric glanced at Califia, and she just shook her head.
"I need to use the restroom," Erik said.
Califia scooted over and allowed him to leave.
"Is he okay by himself?" Cedric said.
"Trust me, no one is going to snatch up my son if they know what's best for them. Thank you for asking though."
"This is nice," he said.
"It was good hearing about folks back east, Thank you for this meal too."
"Erik is…Erik is really sharp. His vocabulary and the way he thinks…school must be a breeze for him."
"He doesn't attend a traditional school for most days. He starts high school next year."
"High school? Holy shit. At 9?"
"Yep. It's a struggle keeping him grounded. His mind and ideas are so far beyond what traditional schools can do for him. He'll probably start college when he's twelve. His father and I are trying to figure out how to balance it out. It's hard keeping up with him sometimes."
"My eyes did glaze over a bit when he was talking about his science experiments at home when we were driving over. Half the time I didn't even know what he was talking about. Tetrach…tetris dee…parrodox?"
"Tetrachlorodibenzoparadioxin. Don't let it scare you. It's the chemical toxin made from wood burning. He's trying to figure out a way to clean the air when we get all these wildfires in California every year."
"Well, my kids are trying to figure out how to dress themselves neatly on their own. Yay."
Califia chuckled.
"Trust me, Erik is still a little kid himself in a lot of ways."
"I always wondered what a child from you would be like. It's you, but extra helpings."
They laughed together.
Erik returned with his own cell phone stuck to his ear. When he approached the table, he handed his phone to Califia.
"It's Baba," Erik said.
Califia's face froze.
"Could you excuse me for a moment? Erik, finish your food."
Califia moved from the table grabbing her purse and walking into the restaurant lobby. She glanced at her phone in her purse and saw that she missed three calls and a private face chat from N'Jobu. Erik probably blabbed about their meal with Cedric. She took a breath and tried to sound cheery.
"Hey! How are you?"
"Cedric?"
"Yeah. He had a layover and came around to the studio and saw us there. He's treating us to dinner before he goes back to his wife and kids."
She could've said home or family, but she wanted to soothe her man because she already knew his mind was racing in the wrong direction.
"Everything good on your end?" she said glancing over to their dinner table. Erik was chatting with Cedric and Cedric had a big grin on his face while listening.
"How long is his layover?"
His voice was tight. Dammit. They hadn't spoken in two weeks, Just emails and pre-recorded video messages.
"He has to leave within the next hour."
"Face chat me on our private line when you get home."
'N'Jobu, don't trip."
"I'm not."
"Yes, you are. I can hear it in your voice."
"He just shows up out of the blue?"
"He had a layover and remembered the studio—"
"He's not Bakari or Soliel, or one of your college buddies from way back—"
"We're just having dinner and catching up. I knew him as a kid. We know the same people I grew up with—"
"You had a relationship with him. A sexual one. I'm never going to look at him like he's just an old homeboy."
"Ohmigod, is this going to be a big deal? Is it? Let me know now so I can hang up. I would think you would be happy to hear my voice and know that I am doing well. Getting out of the house and doing things with Erik. Who is doing great by the way. But since you are so worried about old dick—"
"Alright, alright. Chill—"
"You chill. Why are you so uptight? What did Erik tell you?"
"He said your old boyfriend took you two out for dinner."
"Old boyfriend? How did he know that? Did you tell him that?"
"No, so he must've picked up on something between you two that was pretty obvious—"
"All we are doing is talking and eating. He's telling me about his children, I'm telling him about Erik and you."
Silence.
She rubbed the side of her neck. Together for almost ten years as a family, and this man could still make her feel guilty for no reason.
"Finish your meal and get back to me when you can," he said.
Her jaw clenched.
"Califia?"
"Okay."
She hung up on him.
###
Umama was really pulling out all the stops for Ramonda.
An elaborate dinner outside on the moon observation deck high above the palace. The best wines from the family wine vault. The entire Udaku royal family decked out in clothing reserved for state functions. Two council elders in attendance.
N'Jobu ate his food and tried his best to appear pleasant, but he was upset. When Califia didn't answer her phone the previous day, he went to his go-to number which was his son. He caught Erik washing his hands in the bathroom with a video chat.
"Where are you?" N'Jobu had asked not recognizing the facilities.
"Mom's old boyfriend is treating us to dinner."
Erik said it so easily that N'Jobu thought he misheard for a second. Who the fuck was feeding his wife and son at a fancy restaurant?
Erik spilled the beans, describing the man, saying his name, and giving his keen observational skills. When Califia denied telling Erik the extent of her relationship with Cedric, N'Jobu wondered what they had done to tip Erik off to something sexual in nature to make him conclude that Cedric was more than a simple old friend.
When she hung up on him, he let his anger and resentment settle and he searched deep within to figure out what upset him so much. She said the man was married and had children. He had to take into account that he was once engaged to Zinzi, had sexual contact with her, and they were still good friends and he saw her once a year back home. Cedric hadn't been around for ten years. N'Jobu suspected that something was amiss in Cedric's marriage to make him go out of his way to see Califia. N'Jobu could only remember that horrible moment a long time ago when he sought out his woman and he saw her screwing Cedric hard inside their home. Screwing her like she was the breath Cedric needed to survive in the world. Saw that man's dick thrusting into his love and she liked it.
He could feel his body yearning for Califia in that terrible way it did whenever he was in Wakanda. And knowing that other man was in her vicinity, eating with his own child no less, it made N'Jobu rigid and ready to fight.
He concentrated on his brother.
T'Chaka was charming and funny and for a pleasant moment, he was almost his old self, acting the way he did when Bathwandwa was alive. Ramonda was drawing his good qualities back out. It had only been two weeks, but N'Jobu knew that his brother was in love. Ramonda cut the King no slack, and she didn't mince words if she disagreed with T'Chaka, and this made Umama smile so hard.
Although he didn't know Ramonda well, he could tell that she was liking T'Chaka. Maybe more than just like him.
The first dinner she had been invited to at the palace, with her parents in attendance, she had cornered him during the after-dinner libations and punched him in his arm.
"You knew everything," she said.
"I did, but I didn't know it was you until you harassed me."
"Harassed you?"
"All up in my face. Not giving me peace to contemplate art by myself," he teased. Those sharp eyes of hers made him feel strange again.
"I was so embarrassed," she whispered, "you were making fun of me."
"I was not!"
"Lower your voice," she hissed.
He lowered it, "I was minding my business…wait, why am I lowering my voice in my own home?!"
Ramonda rolled her eyes at him and left him standing with a glass of port in his hand. T'Chaka had glanced their way and N'Jobu decided to check in with him. His brother's eyes questioned the private conversation between himself and Ramonda.
"Your intended is angry with me," N'Jobu said.
"My intended? We are simply in the preliminary—"
"Stop. This is me, your brother. I know you. You are taken with her. Just pick a date and let us end this tiresome charade."
Ramonda walked over to them.
"Welcome back Queen Ram—"
T'Chaka thrust his elbow into N'Jobu's side, and N'Jobu felt a bit of wind get knocked out of him before he could get all his words out.
"I hope the dinner was satisfactory," T'Chaka said, and N'Jobu stood there enjoying the tinge of desperation in his brother's voice trying to impress Ramonda.
"It was wonderful, Your Highness. Thank you for inviting me and my parents. My mother wants the recipe for the pheasant crepes."
"And she shall have it," T'Chaka said.
Dear Bast, this was painful for N'Jobu to watch.
"What is wrong with your face?" Ramonda asked.
N'Jobu glanced at his brother first then looked at Ramonda.
"Nothing is wrong with my face—"
"You look like you are in pain," she said.
"I think Umama would like to see me…" N'Jobu said looking for an out.
"No one is looking for you," she said.
"Then I will look for someone," he said.
"Did your brother tell you how he made fun of me?" she said.
T'Chaka glared at N'Jobu.
"Hey…" N'Jobu said.
"Shall I have him arrested for you? I can place him in isolation from the fireworks if you would like."
"Fireworks?" She questioned.
A loud explosion erupted from outside and T'Chaka held out his elbow for her.
"Right on time," T'Chaka said as Ramonda took his arm.
"Thank Bast," N'Jobu said and Ramonda flipped him off without looking as N'Jobu walked behind the two of them.
"Ramonda!"
Ramonda's mother's voice called out from clear across the room.
"Sorry, Mother," Ramonda said.
N'Jobu grinned and Ramonda stuck her tongue out at him making him laugh.
This woman.
She could very well save T'Chaka.
Everyone congregated on the observation deck balcony and watched the fireworks that burst in fiery rainbows of color over the city.
"Are you celebrating something?" Ramonda asked T'Chaka.
"You," T'Chaka said, and Ramonda's eyes became coquettish. Had N'Jobu and the others not been present he was positive his brother would've kissed her.
The blossoming romance right before him made N'Jobu miss his Califia and his son. They should be there with them all watching the extravagant light show that was only happening because his brother was beholden to a woman that could probably bring him to his knees. N'Jobu knew that feeling well and welcomed it. Wholeheartedly.
"Prince N'Jobu."
N'Jobu glanced across the table and saw Ramonda's cousin Allem staring at him.
"Yes?" he said to the woman. Allem's full lips were stained red like the wine they drinking.
"Will you be attending the Star Light Ball this year?" she asked.
"I will be there," he said trying to remember the reason why Ramonda's cousin was there. Oh yes, a potential mate for him. Two more weeks and he could get on a plane and jet home. Hopefully.
Allem looked thrilled that he said he was attending the ball. He skipped it the previous year but felt it was best to go this year to stay the obedient younger Prince. Play his role until he could be away from the palace.
His kimoyo beads lit up. The signature was from Jax.
N'Jobu sent a quick message that he would meet his boys at Quantum, the new private bar outside of Djata. He needed a break.
When the formal dinner was over, N'Jobu left the guests and fled as discreetly as he could to his suite. He dressed down in jeans and a plain designer pull over, then hit a private chat line to try and catch his woman. She had ignored his apology texts and just let Erik touch base with him after their dinner with Cedric. Califia didn't answer, so he checked Erik's line. His son was connected. He made small talk, discussed school but then he seized the moment to pump information out of Erik.
"JaJa, what made you say that Cedric was Mom's old boyfriend?"
"I could tell."
"How?"
"I just could."
"Be specific."
The face chat they had was private, Erik was in his room and Califia was downstairs watching tv.
"Are you upset about this, Baba?"
"No. I'm just curious how you could figure that out without your Mom or I telling you that information."
Erik stared at N'Jobu for a moment.
"You don't like Cedric," Erik said.
"I don't know him. I have never met him."
Awkward silence. Erik was feeling out the situation, and even five thousand miles away, his boy could tell the truth. His eyes broke away from N'Jobu's.
"His voice," Erik said.
"His voice?"
"And his eyes."
"Help me understand, JaJa. Really, I'm just curious."
"He looked at Mom and talked to her the way you do. And you love Mom. So I knew he loved Mom too before he had a wife and kids."
N'Jobu gave a deep sigh.
"Baba," Erik said, his eyes contemplative and a bit guarded.
"Yes, my Son."
"Mom didn't talk to him or look at him the way she does with you."
N'Jobu gave his son a wide smile.
There was a knock on Erik's door. Califia walked in. When she saw N'Jobu's face she stopped moving.
N'Jobu felt his heart open up for her.
"Hey," she said, her eyes glancing at Erik.
N'Jobu held his hands under his suite desk and shot off a quick message to Jax that he would be late joining him.
"Can I tell you both a story?" he asked.
Erik's eyes lit up and N'Jobu watched Califia's body language.
"Sure," she said when she saw how eager Erik was.
N'Jobu needed to tell her in the stories of his people how he was feeling. He could tell she didn't want to have a private talk with him, but he wanted to connect with them both.
Erik picked up his laptop and carried it over to his bed. It was almost the afternoon there and a Sunday. Perfect. Sunday was always their family day of rest.
Califia crawled on the bed next to Erik and he watched their son lean back into her.
"I want to tell you the story of Entabeni and Sekmet. It is how a God from one world traveled across the heavens and saw his great love, a Goddess from another world, and did whatever he could to be with her, no matter what. And despite the fact that he was a jealous God, stubborn, quick to make assumptions…a ridiculous deity really, his heart was in the right place and needed to be with her for eternity."
Califia gave him a sly look.
"Baba, you're not good at disguising this story. You're talkin' about you and Mom," Erik said.
"Am I?"
"It's so obvious," Erik said crossing his arms.
"I am quite sure that this is an ancient story I heard from my own Baba when I was your age. Hmmm. Maybe I should choose another one-?"
"No, we want to hear this one!" Erik said glancing up at Califia.
"Yes, we want to hear this story," Califia said leaning her head back against the headboard.
Erik's eyes looked deep into his mother's and then he scooted his face closer to the laptop screen.
"Baba…"
"Yes, JaJa," N'Jobu said.
"Mom has that look in her eyes and that sound in her voice. The way you do it."
Califia looked at both of them confused.
"That is good, my Son. Very good."
He spun the tale for them. And his heart eased. No worries about Cedric. No worries about T'Chaka keeping him in Wakanda. No worries about what he had to accomplish while he was in his home country to secure a cache of vibranium.
At this moment, his very own Sekmet made him whole and kept him in her world. That was all that mattered.
Chapter 22 HERE.
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uzumaki-rebellion · 5 years
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Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 2 Chapter 20
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Your girl, she go hard in the baste Swangin' on them, swangin' on them, swangin' on my ways Swangin' on my ways Swangin' on my ways I've been thinking like, "Ayy, yo" And I've been thinking like, "Ayy, yo" (Sound of rain helps me let go of the pain) And I've been thinking like, "Ayy, yo" (Sound of rain helps me let go of the pain)
Solange—"Sound of Rain"
Ungubani?
Who are you?
I asked this question of myself many times. Often times, I do not know. But I do know I am no longer the man my country knew. Maybe love? My son?
It has all changed me. T'Chaka must see what we can do, how we can change the course of time for the people who struggle so much in this land. Strangers to me, but my brothers and sisters still. How can I look at them, with the same skin as me, stolen from the same place I came from and not reach out to them? How can I sit idly by and watch in pain and return to Wakanda as if there was nothing to see at all?
Who am I?
A war dog who will not leave the lost tribe behind again. Who are you, my son? You will ask this one day and know the answer: N'Jadaka, son of N'Jobu.
My son.
###
My woman is in pain. We have been back home for a month since Lia's death, and I am set to leave for Wakanda and I am frightened. As a family, we have gone to three sessions with Dr. Davis. I thank Bast that children have the resilience to bounce back from tragedy. Our son struggles. He has good days and bad days, but most of his bad days come from his worry over Califia.
She is not faring well.
She has lost weight from not eating and she suffers from insomnia. She has taken leave from work and spends days in bed. The most that she allows me to do for her is to hold her at night and look after Erik. She self-medicates with edibles so that Erik won't smell marijuana smoke on her.
Lia's family has planned a private memorial for her, and I do not want Califia or Erik to go. She is furious with me, even though Lia's entire family and her own family agree that she and Erik should stay in the States for now. There are plans for a large public memorial next year. There have been protests and marches throughout Brazil and other parts of the world in solidarity with Lia's memory. Califia's pain and anger and lack of concern for her health make me question whether I can trust her to care for Erik when I am gone. Dante and Nana Jean have made plans to step in for me along with Rolita. Dante questions why I have to leave for a month when Califia needs me and the only thing that saves me from his questioning is that I tell him I must work to cover the bills since Califia isn't working. 
I have been bringing Erik over to my apartment to give him some semblance of a normal home life and to also give Califia privacy when her crying gets bad and she begs me to take our son away so he doesn't have to see her. On those days I call Rolita to watch her, and I make the time alone with my son the best that I can. James hangs with us a lot, and he has been a source of strength when I can't speak to Bakari. Erik is crazy about James, and they spend a lot of time playing video games together and streaming anime.
Erik is asleep in my apartment bedroom and I write this on my couch. Tomorrow we will go home to his mother and I will cook for both of them. I miss my woman so much. I miss touching her in that way. I miss kissing her. I miss her laughter. I miss her being that incredible mother to my son. I miss us.
###
This man Klaue will meet with me in the Netherlands. Sita has found a safe place for us to interact. A place that we can control access to. When I return to Wakanda I will know for sure who I can count on among the war dogs. I will also have to gain all access codes in order to lay my hands on the Vibranium I need. I have someone in place that I have turned who can help me. I just have to keep T'Chaka off of my back. He has been very open about keeping me close to him on this trip home. Zinzi has been cryptic about what's been happening, so I suspect she is being watched carefully too because of our closeness.
My meeting with Klaue has to go off without a hitch because my only chance to see him without surveillance right now is when I fly home. I made sure to choose a flight with a long layover in Northern Europe. I will have six hours to feel this man out. If I can use him, I will. Sita was right about him in one respect; he is a little whore for money. My research on him tells me he is willing to do anything for it.
###
N'Jobu dressed in warm layers and kept his dark glasses on when he entered the small villa in Amsterdam. He made sure to enter the country under an alias and not as Prince N'Jobu so he wouldn't have to bring any Doras with him. Sita came as his personal guard and even though she had secured the property and hired extra protection under her control, she was still wary of Klaue. Klaue was told to come alone and was watched and followed to make sure he did what he was told. N'Jobu gave orders to kill him on site if he did not acquiesce to all of his demands for secrecy. N'Jobu would not reveal his identity to the man. All that he was told was that some goods would need to be secretly couriered out of the country in the future and there was a handsome reward for his services if he should be used.
The semi-detached modern-styled steel and glass villa had plenty of open space surrounding it to give N'Jobu's people eyes on the meeting at all times. Snipers were in position, and if the meeting went left, Klaue would be disposed of and N'Jobu would go home and find someone else to ferry the Vibranium out.
Sitting at a small table facing the main glass entrance, N'Jobu and Sita watched a lone brown Mercedes meander up the winding driveway and park.
A short messy brown-haired man in an ill-fitting suit stepped from the driver's door and scanned the villa. One of Sita's hired hands stepped forward and patted Klaue down while another kept a gun trained on him.
"Great welcome committee!" Klaue shouted out loud enough so that N'Jobu could hear him.
Stepping into the villa, Klaue had a nervous swagger about him that was more bravado and posturing rather than real confidence. The Black faces that stared at him as he stood before N'Jobu had the man second-guessing who he was fucking with.
Klaue smelled of an over-dosing of expensive Italian cologne and poor personal hygiene. His greasy-looking hair and body odor offended N'Jobu. The poor-fitting suit was expensive but not tailor-made and looking at the man from head to toe, the watery light eyes, the liver lips, and a hodge-podge of tattoos on his arms, he could tell the little man was new to expensive tastes. N'Jobu's nose crinkled and he pointed to the chair seated across from him. Klaue sat down.
"Well, I'm here. Let's talk," Klaue said, "Mind if I smoke?"
N'Jobu gave a slight nod.
"I'll take that as a yes then," Klaue said slowly reaching into his suit pocket. He lit up a spicy-smelling thin cigarette.
"Ashtray?" Klaue asked.
Sita placed a glass of water in front of him.
"Wakanda," Klaue said.
N'Jobu stayed silent. This made Klaue even more nervous.
He studied the Afrikaner a little more. The future of his immediate family, Califia and Erik, depended on this thin rat-looking thing sitting before him. The only way N'Jobu could help the Black diaspora was through getting his hands on enough Vibranium to support a world-wide revolution. And the irony of it all was that a racist White South African was going to help jumpstart that revolution. And unbeknownst to Klaue, helping N'Jobu would usher in his own demise, the end of White Supremacy and the end of all of those who supported it, even other Black and non-Black people of color.
Sita stepped forward and handed Klaue a small satchel. The man opened it. His eyes seemed impressed.
"Just for showing up? Twenty-Five thousand in U.S. dollars?" Klaue said.
N'Jobu nodded. When he felt the man was going to burst if he didn't speak soon, N'Jobu folded his hands in his lap.
"Your record is clean. And when things have gone awry, you disappear. I like that."
"He speaks!" Klaue exclaimed, holding his hands up and looking around the room smiling hard. Not one Black face gave him warmth.
"This is just part of a retainer. If I like what I hear, then you will receive another seventy-five thousand to help collect your team within the next year," N'Jobu said.
Klaue leaned forward while listening to N'Jobu's voice. He pointed to N'Jobu's face.
"You're…you're not just some radical. The way you talk…you are a higher up—"
"Who he is, that is not your business. You are here to listen and do what we ask," Sita hissed, moving closer to him, her hand on a gun holstered to her hip.
N'Jobu whispered to her in Wakandan to chill. The three other war dogs in the room along with the three hired hands stepped closer, letting Klaue know to watch his mouth.
"I get the feeling that what I am asked to retrieve aren't just some priceless artifacts," Klaue said, the smile sliding off of his face, "Human trafficking?"
This was the part of the conversation N'Jobu was waiting for. The part he wished he didn't have to divulge, but he had to because even though Vibranium was undetectable to outside modern metal detectors and such, it wasn't stable, and Klaue would have to be shown how to smuggle it out safely.
N'Jobu motioned with his fingers for Sita to bring forth the sample of Vibranium enclosed in a protective capsule.
The luminous electric blue glow mesmerized Klaue's eyes. The man's mouth slipped open.
"Fuck it to hell…" he said standing up when the phosphorescent capsule was placed in his hand, "is this really…is this-?"
"Vibranium," N'Jobu said watching Klaue closely.
"I'm in—"
"We still have to discuss my terms and timetable—" "I don't care! I am in. Whatever your terms or timetable. I already know you will pay me well."
Klaue regarded N'Jobu with gleaming eyes. Sita took the Vibranium from Klaue's fingers and he tracked the luminous glow as she placed it in N'Jobu's hand.
"That small amount right there is worth millions. How much more do you have?" Klaue asked.
"Let us speak about your operation. How quickly can you organize a retraction team?"
Klaue took the hint that he would not be told more about their holdings. It was all need to know moving forward.
"Three to four months tops."
"Understand, I will wipe out you and your people if at any time I suspect chicanery."
"I am a professional. I do thorough background checks on all my people. You've done your homework, I'm sure."
"Talk to me," N'Jobu said leaning back in his seat.
The greasy-haired man in the ill-fitting suit leaned forward, a full smile widening his mouth and showing the glint of cheap gold-rimmed teeth.
"I will tell you all that you want to know," Klaue said.
And he did.
###
On the ride to the airport in the secured SUV, Sita kept staring at N'Jobu's face.
"What do you think, Your Highness?" she asked.
"We should not trust him at all, but he has the juice to get what we need to be done completed."
"Will I see you again on your way back to the States?" she asked.
"Yes. D'Beke will join us and we can begin."
Sita's face looked pleased. She even gave him a smile.
"What is happening at home?"
Sita's smile faded.
"The King….your brother…he has been putting dissenters in jail."
"What?"
"There have been political protests taking place in several Birnans. There's a new spiritualist cult that has had some major growth in followers who have been causing problems. Some protests have become rather violent, and King T'Chaka has taken in leaders and incarcerated them."
"What are they protesting exactly?"
"The lack of democracy in a monarchy. What else? The lack of freedom they have to practice their religion—"
"The Udaku family has never shunned nor stopped religious freedom from marginal religions—"
"Maybe in the past. Maybe when your father was King. But King T'Chaka…he is not so tolerant these days. He claims it is an affront to the crown, a wedge issue to fracture the power of his throne."
"You believe this, Sita? Speak freely."
"I believe what I see, and I have seen even moderate dissenters vilified by your brother."
"But jail-?"
"There was talk that one of the incarcerated planned to assassinate the King."
N'Jobu's body jerked when he heard that. His kimoyo beads heated up and N'Jobu tapped his earbud.
"T'Chaka," N'Jobu said.
Sita remained quiet while he took the call by audio only.
###
Califia carefully flipped over the waffle she made for Erik onto a plate.
"JaJa!"
She heard her son's feet running down the stairs, and by the time he reached the kitchen, she had his plate on the kitchen table next to a glass of grape juice.
"Hot off the griddle," she said.
Erik studied her face and she gave him a healthy smile. His face relaxed and he sat at the table.
She passed him the butter and syrup and helped herself to a piece of sausage. Erik watched her plate.
"Got my appetite back," she said.
He gave her some dimples and she forced herself to eat even though she really didn't want to. She made up her mind to force herself through this pain. She was hurt when N'Jobu told her that he wasn't sure that she could handle their household while he was gone. She counted on him to care for Erik while she fell apart, but it fractured their relationship when he treated her like an irresponsible child. Calling people to watch her and Erik when he left the house. Each time she cried, the look on his face made her feel like he wished she could just get over what happened to Lia quickly so that she could cater to him once more.
Their last night together before he left for Wakanda was pleasant, almost their regular interaction as a family. She worked hard to show him that she was capable of being present for their son. It was also the first time they had sex together since Lia's death, and she only did it to please him, to make him feel like she was okay even when she didn't feel okay. It took her a long time to get self-lubricated, but their kissing took up a lot of time and allowed her body to ease into sex before he could notice that her senses were not in tune with his.
N'Jobu kissed her mouth for a long time before his hands even reached for her breasts or even tried to touch her between her legs. He was so happy and touch-starved for her that his focus was on sections of her. Her lips. Her tongue. Her throat. The tender spots behind her ears. The space between her breasts. Her nipples. Her belly. Her inner thigh and hips.
He kissed and licked her vulva as if it was his first time being down there, and by then, she was wet enough to accommodate his desperate erection. The moans and raspy grunts that fell inside her ear as he pumped in an out of her pleased her. She could still take care of him physically even if she wasn't really there emotionally for him. She opened her legs wide and when she looked up into his face, it was contorted in deep pleasure. His forehead creased tighter and he was exhaling hard pants.
"Califia…Califia…"
Back in Brazil she was depressed, anxious, and scared about his leaving, hungry for any physical contact with him. But now? She was ready for him to leave. She needed to grieve longer without the judgment in his eyes, without him making her feel guilty if she broke down in the middle of the day.
She put her pussy on him thrust for thrust and held his shoulders, her breath coming out faster as she felt him reaching his peak.
"Daddy—"
N'Jobu's lips thrust out when she said that.
"You ready for Daddy to cum?"
"Yeah—"
"Tell Daddy you want him to cum—"
"Jobu—"
"Tell me Califia…baby…tell me…"
He was gasping, twisting her leg to get leverage for more friction.
"…this pussy…" he growled in her ear.
"Yeah," she exhaled.
She could feel the solid fullness that his dick always filled her up with, but she wasn't really feeling anything, not in the way she wanted to but could not reach because of the trauma she was clinging to. She wished she could let go like him. Use sex to get a mental release. Her body wasn't giving her any signs of wanting to orgasm. And N'Jobu's dick was going at her hard as fuck. Their bed was shaking.
She wanted this to end before she started crying in the way that would upset him. She cradled his head and pressed her lips close to his ear.
"Cum in your pussy, Daddy…"
She dragged out the word Daddy so that it sounded reckless and raw and she felt her man seize up tight then thrust his hips into her hard, his voice gone. The swelled pulses coming from his dick only secured the knowledge that a flood of hot semen was coating her insides. She would still be dripping his seed even when he was flying across the Atlantic. And a nut that good to him would only encourage him to seek more.
He kissed her lips and along her neck, and when he pulled out of her, his mouth sought to eat her folds to make her cum. But she pulled him back up and hugged him. Once he realized she didn't want any more sexual contact, he held her tight and rocked her in his arms.
"You okay?" he asked, kissing her cheek.
"I'm fine. I just want to make you feel good."
"Let me take care of you, baby."
"You did," she said playing with the thick ejaculate spilling from her pussy. His eyes watched her fingers and he stroked his dick.
"I'm going to miss you," he said, his voice getting tight from seeing her shove her fingers inside her pussy.
"I'll miss you too," she said.
She played with her pussy lips for him until he lost it.
"Look how you make me nut!" he cried out, shooting cum on her fingers as she held her labia open for him. He had soaked up their sheets with his sweat and cum, but he held her on top of him until he fell asleep. When he was softly snoring, she crawled off of him and showered. Cleaning her body, she let her tears fall with the warm water flowing over her.
Her thoughts snapped back to Erik, and she surprised herself by eating more than she thought she would. Maybe her appetite had finally returned. Maybe she could get it together while N'Jobu was gone.
"We're going to see Grandpop and Nana Jean today," she said.
"Cool," Erik said stuffing his mouth with waffle.
"Baba, leave a voice message yet?" she asked.
"No. He texted that he made it to Atlanta. I missed the call on my phone," he said.
Califia had checked her phone, but nothing was there. He probably thought she was sleeping in again. At least he texted. She knew he was in Amsterdam for a layover. He always sent an email from a burner account when he made it to Wakanda.
Erik was watching her again.
"What?" she asked smiling at him.
"Nothin'. You look happy."
"I am happy."
Erik picked at his plate unsure of something.
"We're going to be okay, baby."
"I know you miss Auntie Lia, Mom. I miss her too."
The sound of her name still hurt and Califia felt her eyes prick with water. She fought to be strong. Their first day alone together and she didn't want her son to feel unsure of her. She crammed a sausage in her mouth and picked up a glass of orange juice.
"Nana wants to know what you want for dinner."
"Pizza—"
"Pizza? Nana said she was cooking and you want pizza? Boy, are you crazy!"
Erik giggled. He drank his juice and pushed back his plate.
"Enchiladas."
"That's better," she said.
After she cleaned up the kitchen, she drove them over to her grandmother's and as they walked up the hill to reach the house, they found Dante inside the garage working on his latest project; restoring a 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle, midnight black, a pure brute swinging 450-horsepower battle axe.
Dante was on a roller under the car when they saw him.
"Hey now!" he said.
"Grandpop!" Erik squealed.
Dante rolled out from under the car and picked Erik up. He gave Califia a kiss on her cheek and patted her shoulder.
"Looking good, Cali," he said.
"Thank you, Daddy."
"There's my baby!"
Nana Jean walked out from the front porch.
"Nana, stay up there, we'll come up," Califia said heading toward her grandmother.
Erik ran past her and hugged Nana Jean's waist.
"Dayclean make it okay?" she asked.
"Yes," Califia said.
"Good."
Nana Jean made Erik help her fold laundry while Califia cleaned up the kitchen for her grandmother to make her enchiladas later in the day. Keeping busy with her family kept her mind away from sadness and she felt good. Real good.
She went into the small family room to do some dusting of cobwebs and family photos and her eyes caught sight of an old picture on the fireplace mantle of her and N'Jobu on the porch holding Erik when he was a baby and Califia felt her chest grow tight.
Seeing N'Jobu's face took her breath away and she felt guilty. Guilty for not giving all of herself to him before he left. Not just her body and mind, but her spirit as well. Lia was about moving forward, no matter what, and Califia let herself get stuck because of the rage she still felt. Erik was so adorable as a baby and the memory of that day weighed on her. She had sent that exact picture to Lia and Soliel, and Lia had texted her the moment she received it and told her to raise her son up well and strong.
She pulled her cell from her jean pocket and called N'Jobu's burner phone. The voicemail picked up right away.
"N'Jobu…baby, I miss you. Call me when you make it there…when you can get privacy. We're over at Nana's and everything is good. I just…I want you to know that I'm here. I'm here for our son, and I'm here for myself. I'm here for you. I need to hear your voice, okay?"
She wiped away a tear and smiled, still looking at the picture and his beautiful face. Those gorgeous teeth. Those full lips. The lips he gave their little boy. Those eyes that Erik also had—
Her cell buzzed and she recognized the burner number. She swiped her screen.
"Califia."
His voice made her gasp. Erik walked up next to her.
"Mom…"
"It's Baba," she said, wrapping her arm around Erik's shoulder.
"I'm leaving for Wakanda soon. I'm so glad you called me," he said.
"Babe…I've been so lost since we came home. I know you have tried your best to be understanding. I was stuck—"
"I know, my love, I know—"
"I promise you that you can have faith in me getting through this—"
"If I made you feel—"
"I shut everything out and made you take care of everything. It wasn't right. I'm standing here in Nana's family room and she has the picture of you and me when we first brought Erik here. I saw your face, baby…I saw your face and I forgot that you need me too…"
She could hear his voice shuddering over the phone like she had made him cry. He exhaled hard.
"I love you," he said, his voice soft and full of longing.
"I love you too…hey, quickly, talk to Erik before you have to turn your phone off," she said.
She handed the phone to Erik.
"Baba…yes…yes. I will. Uh, huh. They are fine. I know…I will. I love you too. Okay…"
Erik handed the phone back to Califia. She wiped her eyes with her free hand. Her nose felt runny.
"My love. There are some potential problems back home. My brother has some political dissenters, so I may not be able to speak to you as often as you would like. But don't worry. I will text and email you when I can—"
"You'll be safe right?"
"I will be fine. My brother will need me around him more, and because of that, I won't have a lot of privacy for security reasons."
"Okay," she said. He had confidence in his voice, and she knew that once he was in Wakanda, he would have his Doras with him. And those sistas did not play.
"Tell me you love me again," he said.
"I love you…we both love you very much—"
"Bye, Baba!" Erik yelled into the phone.
"Until I see you both again. Be well, my love."
Her lip trembled a little when he was gone. She looked down at Erik.
"Shall we go help Grandpop with the car?"
Erik nodded. He threw his arms around her waist and pressed his head into her chest.
"Don't worry, Mom. Baba will be back soon."
She stroked his hair and kissed the top of his forehead.
###
For security precautions, N'Jobu was escorted into Wakanda over the border of Canaan inside a military Tusk Fighter aircraft instead of one of the Royal crafts. Once he was flown secretly into the country, he was driven by a super discreet convoy with Ometeko and Yejide by his side. His two faithful Doras were thrilled to see him, but also hyper vigilante in watching over him as they moved through several Birnans to get to the golden one of his birth.
His parents greeted him under the cover of darkness as he was ushered into the palace.
His mother could not stop touching him, exclaiming that he looked a bit worn. Lia's death and his family struggles hovered over him, but speaking to Califia and Erik earlier in the day made him feel confident that he could get through this check-in.
As he walked through the palace and headed up to his brother's private suite, he thought of Califia and how their last night together was so one-sided in affection. He wanted her so bad that night.
After he had put Erik to bed and joined Califia in their bedroom, she was fully naked under the covers. He hadn't seen or felt her nude body in so long that the moment he slipped under the covers and felt her naked thigh and hip touch him, the thickening of his penis didn't take long. When she had allowed him to penetrate her, it felt different. She was going through the motions but he couldn't quite get her to connect with his pleasure. They had always had the ability to create a mesmerizing feedback loop in their intimacy, but that time, it didn't happen. Instead of stopping, he became selfish and took what she gave because he missed her sexually. He needed her body. He needed to feel her tight ring of muscles surrounding his manhood. He needed to feel those big tits and see them bouncing. He needed to feel his semen spurting inside of her, his sack draining weeks of build-up. He let his desire for her override any reason to stop and make sure she matched his vibe.
At that moment, the sex was great for him, but it was like the sex he had while in school; all about the pleasure that his dick got without concerns about love or the other emotional aspects of two humans connecting. They didn't make love. He just fucked her. And he was all about the fucking because he hadn't had it in so long.
But talking to her…hearing her tell him that she would be fine…she made him cry. She made him determined to push forth and plan the best strategy to free them all.
The elevator ride up to T'Chaka's suite felt long, but once he stepped out with Ometeko and Yejide by his side, his dip had returned to his step. His entrance into T'Chaka's private quarters was full of confidence.
"Uncle N'Jobu!"
T'Challa's voice surprised him and when N'Jobu turned to look at his nephew, his eyes grew wide for a second at how much older he looked. The twelve-year-old appeared before him in his royal purple pajamas, his once full head of curly hair cut short and tapered. His voice even sounded different. Clearly, puberty was upon him. N'Jobu's heart ached staring at him. He held out his arms and his nephew ran into them, hugging him hard.
"My nephew! What are you doing up so late?"
"I wanted to see you as soon as you arrived. I have missed you so much, Uncle!"
"Oh! How I have missed you too!"
N'Jobu saw his brother enter the room. No smile on his face. Just worry. And something else. Indignation.
N'Jobu saw another young boy standing off to the side, his big round eyes shyly watching N'Jobu as if he were in awe.
"And who is this?" N'Jobu asked, waving his hand for the child to step forward.
"W'Kabi, stop acting scared. It is only my Uncle. Uncle N'Jobu, this is my best friend, W'Kabi," T'Challa said.
"W'Kabi…W'Kabi? Why do I know your name?" N'Jobu asked. He could see the child wearing a blue night robe with the Border Tribe's dark blue sigil sewn into the collar. A horseman with a fluttering blanket wrapped around the shoulders.
"My father protects the borderlands, Your Highness," the boy said. He bowed his head to N'Jobu.
"Tankiso is his father,' T'Chaka said.
N'Jobu did his best to keep his reaction neutral. He knew the boy's father. Tankiso would be N'Jobu's inside man to help him smuggle the Vibranium out of Wakanda and into Niganda with Klaue when the time came.
"Pleased to meet you, W'Kabi," N'Jobu said. He held out his hand to shake, and W'Kabi stared at T'Challa first and then T'Chaka.
"Do not be foolish, W'Kabi, you can shake my Uncle's hand. He is a Prince like me. Not the King!" T'Challa laughed.
W'Kabi smiled and took N'Jobu's hand. It was a firm handshake and N'Jobu was impressed by the confidence he felt there.
"Alright, boys. Off to bed now. Prince N'Jobu and I must talk," T'Chaka said heading toward his private bar.
"Goodnight, Uncle," T'Challa said hugging N'Jobu once more. W'Kabi bowed and N'Jobu watched the two children leave the suite followed by T'Challa's personal Dora.
"They are like brothers," T'Chaka said handing N'Jobu a small glass of plum liquor.
Brothers.
If Erik were here, he would probably join along with his cousin, the three boys staying up late and giggling, maybe even running around the palace in secret like he and T'Chaka did when they were young boys long ago.
N'Jobu sipped the plum liquor thinking of his son. Erik would wear the silk robes of the Golden Tribe, N'Jobu's family sigil sewn into the collar. He could imagine hearing the sound of Erik's sweet laughter ricocheting off the high walls and ceilings of the Eastern Palace. The soft patter of Califia's feet would probably echo in the halls as she would no doubt be the one to hustle the boys back to bed. For a second, N'Jobu closed his eyes and tried to see her wearing his royal robes and returning to the large bed in his suite down below. He so wanted to make real love to her again. Body and soul together.
"No problems getting into the country, Baby Brother?"
"No," N'Jobu said opening his eyes back up and finishing the plum liquor.
"Sit," T'Chaka said.
N'Jobu padded over to the couch near the expansive window that reflected the twinkling of city lights below.
"Things are not well here."
"I have been made aware," N'Jobu said.
"Your thoughts?"
"I am shocked that the one man you have imprisoned, the one they say tried to plot an assassination…what proof do you really have to keep him incarcerated—"
"Proof? Are you implying that I would just throw someone into confinement just on a whim?"
"From what I have gathered on my own there has only been speculation and flexing—"
"Would you have me wait for outright harm to come to me or to someone in our family first?"
"Of course not—"
"Then why question my rule?"
"Will this man have a trial?"
T'Chaka waved his hand at N'Jobu.
"Enough. No more talk of this. It is not your concern."
T'Chaka poured more plum liquor into his glass and he held up the bottle for N'Jobu.
N'Jobu took the bottle and poured more in his own glass. They both sipped and eyed each other. There was a knock on the door.
"Come in," T'Chaka said.
Whoa.
A voluptuous young woman with flashing eyes stepped into the room wearing a long mauve River Tribe styled evening tunic.
"Your Highness," she said, keeping her eyes respectfully downcast when she saw N'Jobu. She was beautiful, her hair tied back allowing her thick braids to fall down her back and N'Jobu knew exactly what she was there for.
"Prince N'Jobu, let us speak more in the morning. Breakfast with Baba and Umama in the sunroom?"
"Yes," N'Jobu said, standing up. He glanced at the woman again and he couldn't help but let his eyes wander over what his brother was playing with at night. He knew for a fact that T'Chaka had several women in rotation for many years. It drove their parents crazy. Umama in particularly hated mistresses being anywhere near the palace, no matter who they were messing around with. Rumor had it that their own father tried to have a young plaything early in his marriage to their mother, but Umama took an ancient knife that allegedly belonged to the very first Black Panther, Bashenga, and threatened to cut off his scrotum and end the entire royal line of Udaku forever if he ever brought another woman into the palace. The fact that he and T'Chaka existed let N'Jobu know that his Baba must've stayed on the straight and narrow. There was no doubt that his mother would kill their father and any woman he had back then or now.
No wonder they wanted T'Chaka married again.
"This is Dineo. She will accompany you to your suite."
N'Jobu's eyes widened.
"A nice homecoming companion for you. It must be tough to find a beauty like this out there," T'Chaka said winking.
Crude. Distasteful. What was this? From his own brother?
Dineo allowed her eyes to rest on N'Jobu's face and he saw her lips part when she got a good look at him.
"Goodnight, T'Chaka," N'Jobu said putting his drink glass on the bar and leaving the room. Dineo followed him and Yejide followed them both.
When N'Jobu reached the private elevator, he turned to her.
"I do not need you," he whispered discreetly so Yejide didn't hear. Not that she didn't already know what Dineo was there for.
"I must accompany you to your suite regardless. The King has demanded this. Please, do not cause me trouble, Your Highness."
Dineo rode the elevator with him down to his suite.
When they reached the outside of his quarters, Ometeko looked shocked to see Dineo at his heels.
"Do not ask," he said to Ometeko as he swept into his space.
Dineo was right behind him when the doors swung shut.
"I am here. You can leave," he said, surprised that the woman even stepped into his private sphere.
Dineo fingered her braids and then allowed her long lashes to flutter as she placed her gaze fully on his face, all pretense of deference gone. She wanted to be there with him. Gently tugging on the clasps that held her tunic closed, the loose clothing dropped to her feet.
Shit.
Her nipples stood at attention as she played with them, and all those curves that the tunic hinted at earlier were more than true once fully revealed.
"I am here for you, Your Highness," she whispered.
"I understand that, however—"
"I hear you are known to make women cry when you make love to them, Your Highness."
He hadn't had sex with a woman in Wakanda for almost a decade.
"Dineo—"
"I have heard all the stories from here to Azania about you. I want you to make me cry," she said stepping toward him.
If this were another time, he would be all over this girl and rearranging her insides. But he had a woman at home that knocked him off of his feet, even five thousand miles away.
He turned his back on her and headed to his bedroom.
"Do not make me have you escorted out, Dineo," he tossed over his shoulder as he pressed his kimoyo beads opening his suite's front doors.
"Your Highness," Ometeko called into the space without entering.
"Please see to it that Dineo makes it back to her own home," N'Jobu said before slamming his bedroom door shut.
###
"N'Jobu."
His body relaxed when he saw Califia's face on his computer.
She was snug in their bed inside their townhouse.
"Erik is still asleep. Do you want me to wake him?"
"No, let him sleep. I sent him a recorded video for him to see when he wakes."
"How are things?"
"I'm still feeling things out. My brother is dealing with some political dissenters, some policy changes...blah, blah, blah." He tried to make things sound mundane to comfort her.
"You're not tired? You should be exhausted."
"I am," he said.
"It's raining here," she said, "a good clean rain. Everything smells so good outside."
"You sound well, my love."
"It's the rain. It makes me feel brand new. But it's not the same without you here to enjoy it with me."
She sat up in bed and he saw that she was nude.
"Baby, really? You know I'm on the other side of the world and you sit up there onscreen with those beautiful tits teasing me?"
She fondled her nipples for him.
"You're killing me over here," he said.
She really was, he felt his cock fatten in his pants.
"Let me really put you six feet under then," she said, peeling back the covers, showing him already plump glistening folds.
"Were you playing with yourself?"
"Mmmhmmm, right before you called," she sighed, her fingers plying her labia open.
"Fuck…Califia…"
N'Jobu groaned loud in his room and yanked down his pants.
Three fingers deep, Califia fingerfucked herself for him as he damn near stroked all the skin off of his dick.
When she came calling his name while staring at him, her legs spread wide, he shot thick ropes of his own cum onto his chest. He fell asleep to the sound of the rain falling on their skylight and her fingers playing with her clit ring, her voice softly telling him she loved him.
It was a blissful rest.
Chapter 21 HERE.
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uzumaki-rebellion · 5 years
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One of these days...
One of these days I will write a happy version of N’Jobu and Erik together in an alternate universe where things were different for them and they were able to see the Wakandan sunset together. Until that time, I will continue to write Black Panther smut and angst.
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I also would like to explore maybe a short series with Prince N’Jobu and Prince T’Chaka when they were younger, before T’Chaka was married. Maybe the Udaku brothers in happier times before they became a King and a War Dog. Don’t know if anyone is interested in reading that, but I will write it.
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uzumaki-rebellion · 5 years
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Writing 1st Meet Ups for Klaue
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As I mentioned before, I am in the midst of writing N’Jobu’s first meeting with Klaue in “Black Boys Bloom Thorns First Vol. 2: Chp 20″ while I am also writing Erik’s first meeting with Klaue too. It’s been fun fashioning a young Klaue dealing with a boss ass N’Jobu as opposed to a much older Klaue not knowing that meeting Erik for the first time is the march to his doom.
I’m hoping to have the next update on N’Jobu and Klaue up late tonight or tomorrow (Chp. 20 of BBBTF Vol 2 for those who are reading that). Erik’s first meeting story “Wet Sugar” won’t appear until after “Say Less” is complete. Although, I may give a short pre-view of Erik and Klaue as a teaser.
I’m trying my best to use this vacation time I have to write all the content I can. As always thanks to my readers and all those new folks following me recently. I’m making a tag list so I can keep folks updated. Hi to all those who let me know to add them.
I swear I’m going to get to my T’Challa and M’Baku stories, but these Udaku men on N’Jobu’s side got me hemmed up tight! I just love them.
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uzumaki-rebellion · 6 years
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Black Boys Bloom Thorns First (Chapter 8)
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Chapter 8
"You don't know babe When you hold me And kiss me slowly It's the sweetest thing And it don't change If I had it my way You would know that you are
You're the coffee that I need in the morning You're my sunshine in the rain when it's pouring Won't you give yourself to me Give it all…"
"Best Part" Daniel Caesar & H.E.R.
The official edict from N'Jobu's parents regarding his getting around the city was that he was never to take public transportation. When he attended the London School of Economics during undergrad, two Dora Milaje were assigned to tail him at all times and put a dent in his social life. He wanted things to be different while he was in the U.S. and insisted that he did not need the Dora Milaje to babysit him.
His imported BMW had been retrofitted in Wakanda to have the latest surveillance and protection tech to keep the Prince safe while he was in America. Bullet-proof, bomb-proof, and laser-proof, the vibranium enhanced automobile could withstand any manner of attack. Even poison gas.
Spending the day with Califia and her friends caused N'Jobu to disobey the edict when he decided to move around with them without the use of his car. Hidden away in his bomber jacket was a light-weight vibranium body shield that he could activate if necessary. Not one time during his first year in California did he ever have to use any weapons to keep himself safe. He kept a low profile, often using fake names in different places to keep off anyone's radar.
It was so refreshing for him to ride the BART system with the group and mingle around regular citizens outside of school. It also meant he could drink a little more and not worry about driving while intoxicated. The sizeable group from the museum voted to go hang out at a popular microbrewery on Haight Street. They arrived in time for Happy Hour and were able to secure several tables that they pushed together near the street-facing window.
N'Jobu sat across from Califia and Soliel who were busy drinking bitter red ales while he took his time savoring a cider Califia had picked out for him to try. It was a ginger-grass cider brew that packed quite a punch. She made sure to have a small carafe of wine available in case the cider wasn't to his liking. His skin felt tingly from the cider, and his brain was buzzing with the conversation and company surrounding him.
He glanced around the table to take in their party: Bakari and Shavonne cozied up next to each other sharing a plate of bacon-wrapped dates with goat cheese. Langston and Rolita tucking into French-fried asparagus and cauliflower. A young man named Reynaldo who appeared to be the youngest of their group and who was carded by the waiter much to the delight of his friends who teased him about his baby face.
Soliel's girlfriend Aunjanue was arguing with Califia and Soliel over a new rap album that dropped online. The three of them shared a meat plate of andouille sausage and currywurst sausage with a side of russet potatoes. N'Jobu picked at his own meal of grilled romaine salad with a heavy dose of bacon vinaigrette. Aunjanue was adamant that her assessment of the album was correct and she was holding court at the table to prove her point.
"The problem is, all of you expect rhyme styles to stay the same. What you all call mumble rap is just a new evolution of the culture," Aunjanue said. She wore a thick topknot of black braids, her dark brown skin having the same reddish tint as Califia. Soliel had her arm around the back of Aunjanue's chair.
"Part of the culture is knowing what a muthafucker is saying," Califia blurted out, causing the entire table to laugh.
"James Brown often sang words that we had no idea what he was saying, but we don't dog him out," Aunjanue leveled at Califia.
"Slow your roll, Aunjanue, James Brown was often doing that Gullah talk, so just because the masses didn't understand it, don't mean people like him didn't. Get on that, Cali," Bakari said pointing at her.
"Gullah?" N'Jobu asked Califia. She took a quick swig of her ale and looked at him.
"My great-grandparents are from Georgia, Geechie country. Um, we're known as Gullah people. They were descended from enslaved Ibo who lived on some of the small islands off the Georgia coast. Their language is a mixture of Ibo, Creole English and a little bit of Muskogee Creek. Native American. They say a lot of James Brown's grunts and groans was Geechie talk."
"Do you know any of it?"
"Me? Nah, that's old-timey talk."
"You should look into learning it, Califia," Rolita said, "my tribe is teaching our young people, but too many of our elders are passing on, so we're losing some things."
"Rolita's people are Yurok. California indigenous." Califia said.
"Ah, yes, Yurok," N'jobu said, pouring himself a glass of cabernet from the carafe.
He was familiar with the more well-known Native American groups. But he had never heard of the Gullah before. Creoles and New Orleans history were more familiar to him. He knew very little about Georgia or Califia's people. But he found it interesting that the Ibo were part of her roots.
"Speaking of my people, please tell me you all are coming out to Alcatraz on Thanksgiving," Rolita said tugging on her two short braids and snacking down on an asparagus stalk.
"I'm going," Soliel said.
"Me too," said Califia reaching for the carafe and pouring herself a half glass of wine.
"You know I'm down," said Bakari scooting back his chair to give Shavonne room to get up. She headed back towards the restrooms in the pub.
"What's happening in Alcatraz? Isn't that an old prison?" N'Jobu asked pouring the rest of the wine into his own glass. He glanced over at Rolita.
"Several different Native American groups get together to do a sunrise celebration instead of recognizing Thanksgiving," Rolita said. "we've been doing this for over forty years now. I would love for you to come with us," Rolita said.
"I will do that," N'Jobu said, pulling out his cell and updating his personal calendar.
"You have to get up early man, the crack of dawn's ass," Bakari said.
Rolita went into a little more detail about the gathering, and as he listened, N'Jobu began to get a clearer picture of Califia's world. Most of her friends were activists of some sort. She also had a very diverse group of friends from all walks of life who were committed to various social justice causes. Everyone seated at the table was a person of color, and N'Jobu wondered if she had any white friends or peers that she associated with. N'Jobu didn't get a sense of animosity towards whiteness or white people from the group, but he was eager to know if their activism precluded having to engage with other white students. The mere thought of that didn't sit with him very well.
His own very selective peer group was just as diverse, but he did have quite a few white schoolmates he engaged within his department at school and in his social life. Also, his major tended to be filled with more white students. He began to think that Califia and her friends self-segregated much to their detriment. An open hand could do more in the world than a closed fist.
Their waiter came by the table again and N'Jobu requested another glass of cider from the jovial brunette who kept filling his side glass of water every chance she got. The conversation moved onto reality TV shows they were keeping up with, and then the movies they wanted to see. He kept his eye on Califia, enjoying her laughter and the soft chiding she gave her friends when they disagreed about things. When she became passionate about a topic, her voice would raise an octave and her eyes would squint as if she were going to use the force of her will to bend them to her side. A couple of times she jabbed her finger into his shoulder to make her point and he savored her touch. He was finishing his second glass of cider when she reached for it and drank the last cool dregs.
"That's not bad," she said, a smear of her lip gloss staining the small glass she still held in her hand.
"Would you like to share another?" he asked. Before she answered, two men outside knocked on the thick glass of the pub staring at them. She placed his glass back near his hand and he watched her gaze at the men entering the pub. Bakari stood up slapping hands and bumping shoulders with both men. One was a tall slender Latino with tats on his arms and wearing an Angels baseball cap. The other was a medium-build black guy with twists in his hair and TV star looks. The black guy and the Latino made their way to the empty seat between N'Jobu and Califia.
"Babe," the black man said kissing Califia's cheek.
"Hey, Xavier," Califia said, looking nowhere in N'Jobu's direction. Greetings went around, and Xavier's friend Julian grabbed another chair from an empty table and further added distance between N'Jobu and Califia.
Xavier was affable, everyone else at the table except for Shavonne knew him, and N'Jobu sensed from Califia's terse expression that something was off in their relationship. Xavier was leaning into her, but her shoulders leaned more towards Soliel.
The pub grew louder as more customers filled the brewery, and there was music playing above the din that made it harder for N'Jobu to keep up with all the conversations that were going on. The only person he wanted to focus on was Califia, but Xavier was making N'Jobu vacillate between staying and leaving the group. He didn't like sitting near her with some other dude hanging off her. His jaw kept getting tight every time Xavier dipped near her face and whispered in her ear.
At one point he caught Soliel's eye, and he thought for a moment that she could see right through his discomfort. N'Jobu checked his cell for the time and was astonished at how late it had gotten. They had been in the pub for over two hours. The sun was setting in a fiery crimson splash outside when the check finally arrived at their table. The group left behind a healthy tip for their server, and once they were all outside, N'Jobu had to stomach Xavier throwing his arm around Califia's shoulder.
"There's a bar down the street that has reggae music tonight. Julian's homie plays the drums. Y'all up for that? Free cover charge," Xavier told everyone.
"Free is enticing," Rolita said throwing a light jacket on.
N'Jobu pulled on his bomber jacket and checked his cell again. Andrea was blowing up his phone.
"Are you interested in checking it out, N'Jobu?" Califia asked. Xavier was looking at N'Jobu, his left arm draped over Califia, his hand dangling near her left breast. N'Jobu wanted to reach over and pull the man's hand and arm away from her. His whole day today had been special because he had time to be around her, share parts of himself with her, got to know how her mind worked when she was excited about something, and now he felt restricted because her man was with them. Her man.
N'Jobu swallowed thickly, shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. He had a light buzz and Califia was staring at him with those cat eyes of hers that took on a sultry look from the rays of the setting sun. She pursed her lips like she was about to say something else and Xavier led her away to lead the pack towards the next hangout spot. Man or no man, N'Jobu needed to be near her. He tagged along despite his misgivings.
###
Califia stood near the back of the bar listening to the reggae band do a fair rendition of "Sun is Shining". She was swaying along with the heavy bass rhythms, Xavier next to her with his fourth beer in his hand. She kept her mouth shut after his third beer, but the fourth one was causing him to act a little sloppy in public. The bar was packed with eager dancing patrons, their little posse bringing in the smattering of color in an otherwise predominately white space. Behind her, N'Jobu sat on a barstool enjoying the vibe and downing a rum and coke. He was only five feet away from her, but she could feel his eyes on her, boring into the back of her head. Xavier had been extra touchy-feely with her in the reggae bar and it made her feel uncomfortable because he was only doing it when N'Jobu was near them.
The first thirty minutes in the bar had been fun, the entire group dancing on the small cement dance floor. N'Jobu had been snagged by a pretty sandy-haired white woman, and Califia enjoyed watching him sway to the loud music. He was actually a pretty good dancer and she catcalled him when the music got good to him and he flashed her his pearly whites and she felt her cheeks raise up higher than usual when she smiled back at him. That's when Xavier caught a whiff of something between them and started fondling her more openly. He wasn't one for public PDA, but Califia's flirty behavior around N'Jobu kicked it up a few notches.
N'Jobu had switched out his dancing partner for a cute black woman with a sexy frohawk, and the live band high-powered through a classic Dawn Penn jam. Califia's arms were casually draped around Xavier's neck as she watched N'Jobu dance and talk to the woman, his hands sliding up and down the woman's back. N'Jobu wasn't wearing his jacket while dancing, and the woman was rubbing her hands up and down his arms.
Xavier spun Califia around and pressed his hands on her shoulders, rubbing his crotch against her ass.
"There it is baby," he said, singing along with the song and dry humping her, "arch that back girl, show these fools how it's done."
Xavier's hands slid down from her shoulders and held her waist, his hips gyrating and thrusting against her. She stepped away from his grip, turning to face him with a rigid smile on her face. She could feel his dick pressing into her stomach when she hugged him.
"Be good," she hissed at him as she tried to ignore the pokes his hardness was giving to her.
Over Xavier's shoulder, she could see N'Jobu watching her, his eyes gone narrow. She gave him a little wave and he nodded at her. She noticed his hands were riding just above his partner's butt and her lips pressed together in a tight grimace when she felt Xavier's hands grabbing and separating her ass cheeks with his hands.
"Baby you feel so good," Xavier murmured. His mouth crashed into her lips while she was still staring at N'Jobu. His kisses were sloppy and over-exaggerated and Califia endured it until the song ended. As the crowd clapped, Califia pushed away from Xavier.
"I'm going to get some water," she said, hurrying away from him.
Now they were standing together and listening to music, Xavier giving harsh whispers in her ear every other minute.
"Why are you tripping tonight?" Xavier asked.
"You are doing a little too much for me."
"Like what?"
"I don't need you molesting me in public."
"Molesting you? You're my woman. We're having fun."
"I'll keep it buck then, you're not holding your liquor and I don't like how you're touching me."
"You crazy."
Xavier walked into the crowd to get closer to the band. Califia drew in a deep breath and released a sigh of relief. The last thing she needed was for Xavier to get loud and make a scene, embarrassing her in front of her friends. She turned around to go back to the bar and found N'Jobu still sitting and watching her.
"Everything okay?"
"Not really."
She sat on the stool next to him and asked for a coke from the bartender.
"Trouble in paradise then?"
"Tuh," she answered. She drank her coke and watched the band. The room was jam-packed to the rafters, she couldn't even see where her people were, not even Xavier.
"The music is very good," he said.
She stared at N'Jobu knowing he was trying to lighten her mood.
"You are a good dancer," she said giving him a sly smile. She saw his eyes relax and it made her feel better.
"You are much better. I like watching you move."
She smiled again.
"You want to dance?" he asked.
"Not right now, if that's okay. I just need to chill for a minute. Xavier's got my pressure up."
N'Jobu nodded, set down his drink and slipped off the stool.
"You don't have to go," Califia said quickly, reaching out and pulling his arm back. She looked at her hand on his arm and pulled away fast. She hadn't meant to grab him. She looked desperate and her face grew warm.
"Sorry," she whispered.
N'Jobu didn't get back on the stool, but he did stand in front of her. He was close enough so that his thighs were touching her knees. He was almost eye level with her.
"What's the problem with you and Xavier?"
Califia tilted her head back and laughed in a way that had a little bite to it.
"Everything," she stammered, and then caught herself with her open honesty. N'Jobu's eyes didn't press her, but they did make her feel safe. She took a long sip of her coke and leaned in closer so N'Jobu could hear her clearly. She was cognizant of the fact that her knees were pressing hard into his thighs at this point. Her head was still a bit foggy with the drinking she did earlier, but she was comfortable.
"Earlier he told me he had bought tickets for us to go to New Orleans for winter break. But I wasn't even sure I wanted to go. I told him that. He was upset that he paid for a ticket I might not use. That's the first thing." She took another sip of coke, "You really don't need to hear this, it's boring," she said.
"No, keep going. It's good to talk things out with other people. I'm a good listener," he said.
His voice had grown deeper, at least that's how it sounded to Califia. His expression was like that of a Priest patiently taking in a confessional with no judgment.
"Xavier is a great dude. He's smart, educated, about to get a bomb ass job-"
"And very good-looking," N'Jobu said smiling at her.
"No doubt. On paper, he is everything a woman is supposed to want. But sometimes I look at him like it's not enough. Like he doesn't get me. He's the longest relationship I've ever been in, but I feel like there might be something else out there better for me. And I feel like shit for thinking that when other women would give their teeth for a man like him."
She shook her head at how easy that flowed from her mouth. She hadn't even said those things to Soliel or Bakari. But here she was giving somewhat intimate details about her boyfriend to a man she had masturbated over. Many times. Jesus be a rock.
"Serah told me to break up with him."
"Why don't you? You aren't happy, right? Just end it."
Califia's chest hitched a bit and she felt the pinpricks of a small tear forming in her right eye.
"I don't want to hurt him," she murmured and the lone tear fell down her cheek. She reached up to wipe her cheek, but N'Jobu already had his left thumb on her face wiping the teardrop away.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that," he said. Califia took in another deep breath and released it. She felt a shudder go through herself. There. She had finally confessed her real reason for not breaking up. She didn't want to hurt Xavier.
"I keep hoping he'll dump me, or we'll have this huge dramatic fight where I can act belligerent and he just tells me he quits, but it never happens. We are in this stalemate. Comfortably numb. I tell myself there has to be someone that's a better fit for me, but I'm scared there won't be, and what if I leave him on a whim and I never find that other person?"
N'Jobu still had his thumb on her cheek.
"You'll never know if you don't let him go, Califia."
"I'm holding him hostage, aren't I?"
N'Jobu only gave her a sad smile.
"I'm such a selfish bitch. I need to make a decision soon."
"I wish you would," he said, his voice gone husky, almost like a command.
Califia stared at N'Jobu. His thumb traced down her face and touched her lips. The sensation of his thumb on her lips tickled and sparked the skin there. She pursed her lips so that the touch felt like a kiss. Another tear formed in her eye.
"You are beautiful when you are angry, you are beautiful when you laugh, and you are even more beautiful when you cry," he said.
"Thank you," she said, unable to think of anything else to say.
"I wish you weren't with him because I really want to kiss you right now," he said.
The strumming in her heart turned into a gallop as his eyes swept down to her lips. The music in the bar was far away, the voices of the other patrons gone mute in her mind. She opened her thighs and pulled him closer to her, holding onto his arms. He rested his forehead on hers and she closed her eyes. She tried to match his steady breathing, but her own breathing was erratic. She could smell the rum on his breath as he let his hands run up her thighs and rest on her hips.
"Califia," he said.
"Say my whole name," she said, still clutching his arms, afraid to move, afraid to escape his warmth.
He chuckled and whispered in her ear, "Califia Stevens." Her toes curled in her heels, and the tingle from his tongue swiping her ear when he spoke her name felt like the fluttering of butterflies. She could probably cum from him just whispering her name over and over.
She pulled her forehead away from his and cradled his neck with her hands.
"Say my name again," she told him.
###
When N'Jobu opened his mouth to speak her name, Califia pressed her lips into his and slipped her tongue inside his mouth. He didn't back away from her. He didn't tell her to stop. Their tongues swirled around trying to find an acceptable rhythm, and when N'Jobu's hands pressed into her lower back, she ceded control of their mouths over to him. Now in control, N'Jobu plundered the heat he found between their lips encouraged to keep his pace by the soft humming he heard deep in her throat. He slowed down to enjoy the wet smacking sounds they gave off. He pulled her closer to the edge of the barstool leaning back just a bit so that she couldn't feel the strain of his cock growing thicker in his pants.
Kissing her deeply, slowly, wetly, he found his mind feverishly trying to gather his wits. Xavier was in the room somewhere, possibly heading back to them, or maybe even her friends would spot them and break up their joining. He had been dying to kiss her all day but felt the opportunity would never happen with Xavier there, but here they were lip-locked, with Califia sucking on his tongue the way he imagined her sucking on his dick.
"Califia, shit," he growled in her mouth, threading his fingers through the back of her bushy hair and yanking hard on it so that she was looking up into his face from the force of his grip.
Her lips were parted and he could see that magical tongue between her teeth. Her eyes were half closed and up close he could see how thick her eyebrows were. He kissed the freckles on her nose, pulled her hair harder and buried his face on the side of her neck, nipping her on a spot just shy of her collarbone.
He started lightly sucking on her neck, enjoying the whimpers spilling from her lips and the quivering from her thighs. He could feel his dick twitching in his pants, probably already spilling sticky beads of pre-cum inside his boxers. He needed to stop or he would be fucking this girl on the barstool and not giving a fuck who was in the room.
He pulled away from her, panting a bit himself and giving up more space between them. No one seemed to be paying attention to them, so he hopped up on his stool and gulped down the last of his rum and coke.
He watched Califia run her fingers on the edges of her lips to fix the last of her ruined lip gloss. She closed her legs and tugged on her top, peeling away the material from the sweat on her upper body.
The girl with the frohawk ambled over to N'Jobu and asked him to dance and he jumped at the chance to get away from Califia, escape the dizzying power she had over him now that she had laid that kiss on him. He didn't even look back to see what her reaction was to his leaving her at the bar. He just needed to escape. And time to think.
He had women all over, and was free to kiss, flirt, fornicate and break hearts if he so desired. All his women were free. But Califia had Xavier. She wasn't free. And as much as he wanted her (in his bed, on his face, sitting on his dick), he was not down for any triangle. After that kiss, he needed to fuck her in every position possible before he left for Wakanda. If she fucked the way she kissed, he was a dead man. And she was worth dying for. Courtney, the girl he was dancing with tried getting his attention. They danced to a song called "Night Nurse", and Courtney was body rolling and smashing her cute ass against his groin, keeping him hard. He looked around to see Califia at the bar with Rolita, Soliel, and Aunjanue. They were having an animated discussion from what he could tell, and he wondered if the conversation was about him.
The band's last set was finished and terrible music replaced it from a D.J. who didn't follow the theme of the reggae vibes but instead blasted the audience with Euro-Pop. He felt his cell vibrate. Checking it he saw that everyone was meeting outside to say goodbye for the night. N'Jobu thanked Courtney for dancing with him and went to retrieve his bomber jacket from coat check.
The others were lingering on the corner away from the bar. Califia was speaking to Xavier in hushed tones, and N'Jobu knew she wouldn't break up with him right then, but he prayed that it would be tonight. He hoped she would do it quickly because there was a fire in his spirit that he didn't think he could suppress for very long.
He prided himself on being respectful, but deep down he knew he could fuck her while she was still with Xavier. If she couldn't break up with him because she was scared, he knew he was willing to do it for her. He was a Prince who had never been denied what he wanted when it came to women. He wanted Califia. Wanted her bad. The way she kissed him told him she wanted him too. He felt empathy for her situation. Xavier was a long-term love that had soured. She needed to uproot the man and make room for N'Jobu. Watching the shaky couple speak to one another bugged the hell out of N'Jobu. Now that he tasted those lips and felt those thighs and hips, he was ready to bulldoze Xavier out of the way in a heartbeat.
"I think you should come home with me."
N'Jobu overheard Califia telling Xavier to go with her. Xavier, a little loopy in the legs was pushing her hands off of him.
"Naw, I'm going to hang out with Julian a little bit. I'll be home later," Xavier slurred, kissing Califia on her cheek.
"We'll be fine, Califia. I'll have him home no later than midnight. He won't turn into a pumpkin, I promise," Julian said waving goodnight to everyone. The two men lumbered off into the night laughing together, and N'Jobu eased his way over to Califia and Bakari.
Hugs were given, goodbyes were shared, and N'Jobu soon found himself walking to a BART station with Bakari and Califia. The ride to Xavier's apartment was mellow. They talked about the band, how good the music was and which pale ale or cider they liked the best.
In no time they were walking Califia up to Xavier's apartment.
"Hey, the Syfy channel is having a Godzilla marathon. You want to make popcorn and watch the next one coming on?" Califia suggested.
"Microwave or hot air?" Bakari asked.
"Hot air, with real butter," Califia said.
"You down?" Bakari asked N'Jobu.
He was. He would get a chance to see where Califia crashed, and spend a little more time with her, even if Bakari was there. The night was still young.
###
Xavier's place was small. The bathroom was inside their bedroom. N'Jobu relieved himself of the last vestiges of liquor in his system. Snacking on fresh popcorn and bottled water, he felt clear-headed and fully hydrated.
Stepping out of the bathroom, he couldn't help but stare at the double bed that Xavier shared with Califia. It was unmade. He pushed thoughts of them together in that space out of his head. She didn't want him anymore. There was no need to harbor any envy towards Xavier. According to Califia, he was a good dude, but not the one for her. On a folding chair near their bed, N'Jobu spotted a pair of skimpy bikini panties and a lace bra. He gritted his teeth. Why did she stay here if she didn't want him? She had a grandmother who had a house and friends with places. Hell, she could stay with him and Bakari.
He stopped his train of thought. Slow down, he told himself. She was a chick he wanted to dick down in the worst way. No need to be thinking roommates and shit. His lust was writing checks he knew his ass couldn't cash. He'd lusted after women before, but he hadn't given thoughts to moving them in. It was just his male ego wilding a bit at seeing where another man fucked Califia. He clenched his fists. She was going to be his soon. Stop tripping.
When he returned to the livingroom, Bakari was still curled up in blankets on a bean bag near a plush maroon couch where Califia was seated. They each had fresh bowls of popcorn. Califia passed N'Jobu his bowl.
"Lots of butter this time," she said. N'Jobu sat next to her, keeping his legs on the floor and away from Califia's legs which were curled on the couch. They got through half of a Godzilla movie on Monster Island when Bakari fell asleep, snoring into the bean bag.
"We should leave," N'Jobu said, staring at Bakari slumped low inside the beanbag, the blanket surrounding him covering his face.
"No rush, Xavier's not coming back tonight. You guys can crash here if you want."
"Your man knows Bakari very well, but he doesn't know me. That will probably not be cool with him."
He saw Califia flinch a bit when he called Xavier her man. He stared at her, glanced at her lips, then looked into her eyes again. He wanted to devour her lips.
"Should we talk about the kiss at the bar?" she asked.
"Only if you want to."
"I do."
He waited for her to speak. She was wearing a long button up Wonder Woman nightshirt and thick wool socks on her feet. Her hair was still blooming all over her head.
"It was wrong of me to do that. Especially since I'm still with someone. I shouldn't have put you in a messy situation."
"I don't care."
Califia blinked at him several times.
"You don't?"
"I like you a lot, Califia. I want to spend time with you. It just so happens you are with someone. As soon as you fix that, I will properly step to you."
Her mouth fell open, then shut, then opened again. N'Jobu reached over into her popcorn bowl, snagged a few buttery kernels and popped them into her mouth.
"I think of you all the time, Califia. And the way you kissed me tonight was…whoa."
She chuckled. He reached out for her hand. She looked down at him, then placed her left hand in his.
"What about you? Do you think of me?" The playful lilt in his voice moved her. He kissed her hand, still waiting for her to answer.
"I do, and I feel so guilty about it."
N'Jobu held up a hand to stop her from negative talk.
"The heart wants what the heart wants. Leave all the bad thoughts you have about your situation behind. People grow apart. It is natural. You say you are worried about not finding someone after you leave him. Who am I to you?"
Bakari snored loudly and shifted in the bean bag, but neither one of them was worried about him listening to their conversation. Once Bakari was knocked out, he was out.
"You don't want to answer me?"
"It's just a lot N'Jobu."
"I understand that. But…who am I to you?"
"Someone I'd like to know better."
"As a friend only?"
"No."
He put his bowl of popcorn on the floor and pulled a tense Califia onto his lap.
"Relax," he said holding her by her waist and legs.
"This is weird for me," she said.
"How so?"
"We've only hung out together a few times, but it feels intense each time. We know nothing about each other. And yet…"
"And yet what?"
She shrugged and hid her face in her hands.
"I don't know. It feels like it did when I was nine and had my first crush."
"I am honored to be your grown-up crush."
Califia giggled.
"Can I kiss you again?" he asked.
She nodded and he lifted up his face and found her lips once more. She wrapped an arm around his shoulder and his left hand held her face. The kissing this time was gentle, still filled with longing and exploration, but N'Jobu wanted to relish the moment without waking up Bakari. He made sure not to nibble or suck too hard on her neck, not wanting to leave love bites for Xavier to see in the morning. When the thought of Xavier crossed through his mind again, he broke from their kiss leaving Califia sighing in frustration.
"Can I touch you?" he asked.
She nodded vigorously, and he kissed her again, licking the outline of her lips and then sucking on her tongue, tasting the salt and butter from their late-night snack. Her nipples had beaded through her nightgown, and N'Jobu reached up and tugged on each one through the cloth. He watched Califia bite back a moan when he touched her, so he tugged harder, looking at the protrusions. He unbuttoned the nightgown down to her belly, freeing her breasts. When he saw them in the glow of the television, he looked up at her face, his fingers pulling on each nipple. She did her best to remain silent, but she bit into her full lips, and the vision of that made him squeeze his eyes shut and shift her ass harder onto his dick.
Califia rotated her hips and ground herself into his lap, feeling the swelling of him push back on her.
"N'Jobu, suck on my nipples…please."
He obliged, his lush lips taking turns wrapping around each ripe nipple, sucking and swirling his tongue at varying speeds. He liked how big her nipples swelled, so he kept alternating his ministrations, sucking on one and tugging on the other, the pulling sensation so intense for her he guessed because she was whimpering up a storm on his lap. She started bouncing on his dick and he let one of her nipples slip from his mouth with a loud pop because it was too much for him. He wanted to play with her pussy, but that was too risky. They were already pushing it with Bakari on the floor covered up and snoring like a banshee.
"Damn," she uttered under her breath, her eyes finally opening back up to stare at him, "I can feel your dick….so…big," she gasped. He shifted her on his lap so that she was facing him, her thighs spread on either side of his hips. He could see and play with her big tits fully as she rocked on him. He didn't want to pull up her nightgown to see her panties. It was enough to have her grinding on him. He held her shoulders and alternated sucking on her tits and fondling them.
"Can I touch you?" she asked.
Holy Bast, he wanted her to. But he couldn't. He could barely contain himself with her jockeying on his lap. He didn't even want to lift up her gown and look at her pussy which had to be soaking her panties.
With his teeth set on edge, he whispered, "No."
The look on her face made him feel horrible like he had stolen a gift from her on Christmas like the Grinch. But then she twisted her bottom lip and bit on it again, and the look of denied pleasure she gave him made his dick jump in his pants and she felt it.
"Califia, sithandwa sam, you have me so turned on, I could cum right now."
"We could go into the bedroom," she said, lifting up. He yanked her back down hard by her hips. She gasped. His eyes narrowed when he looked at her.
"I'm not going into that bedroom with you. When I take you all the way, it will be in my bed. Understand?"
She nodded. The thought of that double bed brought out tight cords in his neck.
"Did you fuck him today?"
Her eyes widened and her mouth parted. But she didn't answer him.
He lifted up her nightgown in the back and slapped her ass hard with a wide-open palm. Her body lurched forward, forcing her to grip his shoulders for balance and she quickly glanced over at Bakari.
"Don't look at him. Look at me. Answer the question. Did you fuck Xavier today?"
He rubbed her full left ass cheek with his right hand, knowing the sting was wearing off, even as his dick swelled bigger from striking her. She took it like a big girl. He slapped her ass again in the same spot. She squeezed her eyelids shut, keeping all sound inside herself. He rubbed her ass tenderly, lifted up the smacked cheek and squeezed it. Damn this girl was too much for him.
"Hit me again and I'll tell you," she snarled at him.
N'Jobu felt his eyebrows raise up on his face. He gave her a nasty smile and struck her other ass cheek twice, hard enough to make her wince and suck on her teeth. He rubbed the tender flesh. Then squeezed both her round globes in his hands. He needed to end this soon.
"Tell me," he whispered. There was a hint of desperation in his voice. She picked up on it and ran with it.
"What if I did?"
She was gyrating on him and he did his best to stay on task, to not shut his eyes and let her dominate him for a while. She was pushing him to his limit. He knew she would, eventually. She started bouncing on him again, learning very quickly that he liked that. Her motion made her titties bounce too, and he sat there watching heaven on his lap. If he didn't get her off of him soon, he was going to nut in his pants. He was too old to have cum in his pants and not inside a woman he wanted. He yanked her by her hair and pulled her face closer to his.
It would be easy to take Bakari home in his car, then drive back to her in his own BMW and fuck the wokeness out of her. But this was not the time and most definitely was not the place. He twisted his fingers in her hair tighter, letting her know she'd better stop playing with him.
"Ow, Jobu…baby," she pleaded. Good God of the worlds. He loved it when she called him that. No one had ever called him Jobu. He was going to countdown and rejoice on the day he finally blew her back out.
"The question," he said.
"Yes. I did. I fucked him. Early this morning. I fucked him."
"Did you enjoy it?"
"Why do you care?"
The corners of his mouth lifted in a wicked smile that made her bite her lip again. He released her hair, unfastened his pants and pulled down his boxers just enough to release his dick that bobbed against his stomach once it was freed. He grabbed her right hand and placed it on his cock. She squeezed it, gripping the swollen head so tight he gritted his teeth to keep from spilling all over her hand.
"This is your dick now. Understand? I don't want you fucking him ever again. You break up with him. I'm not going to rush you, Califia. But this will be waiting for you."
He let her stroke him. His dick was so slick with pre-cum that they both enjoyed the slippery sound of her hand running up and down his shiny length. She leaned in and kissed him while she stroked him.
"This mine?" she whispered in his ear.
"All yours," he said kneading her tits and plucking on her nipples once more.
She stopped playing with his dick and shoved her fingers into her panties.
"Don't you want to touch me here?"
He released her breasts and zipped up his pants. He drew her back in for another wet kiss then pulled away from her.
"When I touch you there and make you cum, you have to be a free woman."
Califia fastened her nightgown.
"You should go then," she said.
Califia shifted in his lap and stood up, grabbing the popcorn bowls and taking them into her kitchen. N'Jobu adjusted his private parts and woke Bakari up from the floor.
"Let's go, Bakari."
It took N'Jobu nearly ten minutes to get Bakari awake and shuffling to find his shoes. N'Jobu took Bakari's car keys from his pocket. Califia was back from the kitchen watching them.
"Do you need some help with him?" she asked N'Jobu.
"I'm awake, I'm awake," Bakari fussed at her.
"I'm driving," N'Jobu said.
"Bet," Bakari said heading out the front door and down the stairs to get to his car.
N'Jobu stood by the open front door facing Califia. She didn't move towards him.
"I meant what I said. I won't rush you," he said.
"Okay."
A new awkwardness permeated the room. They both felt the shift in the air, the change in their interactions weighing heavily on them. She was not his woman, but he had staked a claim on her. Told her directly. She wanted him too, he was sure of that. The ball was in her court. He wouldn't act until she came to him first. For the first time in a long time, Prince N'Jobu Udaku was at the mercy of a woman for affection that he craved like air. He wanted….no, needed, he needed her to give herself to him. No strings. No wounded lover on her mind.
"Goodnight, Califia."
Chapter 9 HERE.
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