• Samantha is left playing hot and cold with a paranoid Tim
“I just wanted you to know that I have it,” Tim says. “I got it just now.”
“Got what?” I ask, getting irritated.
“A Covid-19-free certificate,” he announces proudly. “If you get one too, we can try again.”
I don’t respond. Instead I hang up and continue typing. My phone rings again.
“Hello?” I snap.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“You’ve already said that, Tim,” I say. I pause, wondering who runs out of the middle of having sex to get a Covid test.
“Can I come back?” Tim asks.
“Ok,” I agree, wondering where the hell my storyline has gone. I knew I wouldn’t be able to tie the threads if I got distracted.
“Great. I’m on the way!” Tim says.
Oh, crap. Did I just agree to failed Booty Call Part 2? I try to continue typing… Where was I again? I read the last paragraph.
White people, not just in the US but also in Europe and clearly, in Africa, actually live inside delusions of white supremacy and construct systems and structures to enact these delusions of white supremacy, the world over.
What the hell does this have to do with Covid-19? Crap! I have lost the threads to tie all this in together. My train of thought is completely broken. I toss my laptop away in frustration. Crap, crap, crap!
I get up resignedly and go pour myself a drink. Oh, well. At least I’ll get laid. Tim is back half an hour later, with gifts.
“What’s in the bag?” I ask as I open the door for him. He walks in, handing me the package.
I open it up. It’s a thermometer. He wants to check my temperature. Wow.
“You’re really taking this thing seriously,” I say.
“I am,” he responds and hands me his certificate.
“Covid-free, good for you,” I say, handing it back.
“You don’t seem very impressed,” he says, looking pained.
“And you don’t seem all that sexy right now,” I respond, wondering why I let him come back.
“Can we just check your temperature?” he asks.
“If I was aroused, wouldn’t I be burning up?” I ask.
“Body temperature goes up during periods of sexual arousal,” he concedes. “I hadn’t thought about that.”
“I’ll tell you what,” I say, taking the thermometer and putting it on the table. “Enough of this nonsense. I’ll let you go down on me.”
“What?” he asks.
“I will let you eat me out,” I say slower. “Don’t bitch about it and I won’t throw you out again.”
I walk towards him and take his hand, guiding it towards my delicate parts. “Do you know why they call it cunnilingus?” I ask him.
“Why?” he asks, his voice breaking.
“It’s from two Latin words, meaning vulva and to lick,” I whisper in his ear. “Legend has it that if you drink a woman’s juices from the fountains found in her body… The first one here….” I take his head and pull him towards me. Our lips meet as we kiss. A long-drawn-out kiss as I show him to the first fountain of juices… I break away and direct him to my breast. “Then here….”
He takes my nipple in his mouth and circles it slowly with his tongue then suckles it.
“What does legend say?” he asks as he lets go and gives its twin equal attention.
“Legend has it...” I say again, moaning slightly. “That when you drink from the first two fountains, your spirit is in possession of the great medicine,” I say.
“And the third?” he asks, pushing me down towards the couch and spreading my legs.