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I remember him so clearly, he was a beauty. He sat in the back of the room, fourth row, fourth
seat to be exact. The first day I saw him, I admired him. He was different…the other students
would engage in the classroom conversations, he would just sit in the back and write notes. He
didn’t seem to communicate with the other students…He would sit there like a mystery that is
waiting to be discovered.
I remember when I first walked into the room and began to call the names on the roster, I made
eye contact with him as soon as his name rolled off my tongue, “Amere Rashad”… That was the
first, but far from the last time that I looked into those mysterious gray eyes. Those eyes..they’re gray
in the daytime, but seem to darken at night..Those eyes…They pierce you…they seem to look
deep into you..Beyond the outside…Those eyes…They're Hypnotizing.
Oh how I loved to call his name everyday in my African American novel class, “Amere
Rashad”…it sounds so natural coming from my lips..Amere Rashad… for the first two weeks of
class he never said more than “here” after I called his name. Then it happened. I rushed back to
my office after having lunch with my colleague, Yvette. As I struggled to force the key into the
lock I heard a deep voice … “ Excuse me, Dr. West”, for a split second I felt paralyzed..I knew
it was him…those words ran through me and stimulated me…I felt like I was a high school girl
who realized that her crush had just came and said his first words to her..I wanted to run, but I
was overjoyed at the same time. “Hello”, I turned around hoping he didn’t notice the excitement
on my face. “Yes I was wondering if I could talk to you about the paper that’s due next week”
his voice..it was a mixture of baritone that seemed to sing into my ear. The moment my eyes
locked his..my vagina began to moisten..the same eyes that I would meet every day I called his name on the roster..The same
eyes that seemed to undress me every time he would glance at me in class. The glance would
turn into a stare, I could feel him staring at me as I went about giving my lecture. I admired him
everything from his smooth caramel complexion to the way he dressed. He was different…he
had a look of importance..a look of security.
“Sure I can talk to you, come in” I was able to mumble as I fumbled to unlock the door. I
put my bag down..and looked at the time 1: 59..my African American Women in Literature
class started in one minute, but hey I would never turn down an opportunity to gaze into those
mesmerizing eyes, I thought as I closed and locked the door. I wondered if he noticed that I
nervous. My nervousness that transformed from excitement to arousal to just plain lust in less than
thirty seconds. “ Yes ma’am, I have the guidelines for the paper, but I’m confused on where I
want to go with mine" He said as he gazed at me… my eyes drifted from his eyes to his
mouth…mmm…those lips they appear so full and soft… I found myself imagining them
kissing me sensually..my lips..my neck…my breast…and all the way down until they reached
their intended destination. “Well do you know which work you’re going to do your paper on?”
I asked as his eyes locked mine. It was almost as it we were reading each others' thoughts. I
saw his lust in his glare…his eyes locked within mine…they tranquilized me…he was doing
it again…undressing me...tasting me… Unique..Unique..he whispered as I straddled him in
my chair… “ssh… we can’t make too much noise”…but it felt so good… “ Amere Rashad” I
moaned.
My coffee fell from my hands …snap…back to reality. I was so involved in my sinful thoughts
I forgot to put the coffee down… how did I not put it down when I came in? “ I’ll help
you” he went and got some paper towels and wiped my clumsiness off the floor for me. From our talk about his
paper on Toni Morrison , I learned he was from Boston, he ended up here in DC by his father
convincing him to come to Howard, his mother lives in Crofton, Capricorn, twenty two years
old. He decided to become an English major because he loves to write. His favorite rapper
is Nas, he loves all types of music. And he was performing in downtown DC that Friday at
an open mic at a club called Vogue. Ironically, Yvette had asked me to join her to the same
event. “You should come”. “Yes Dr. Nelson asked me to join her, I will definitely be there”.
I lied to Yvette and told her that I had way too much work to do to go. It was only a half lie,
my intentions were that she would end up not going at all. My planned worked, she said that she
would just stay home and do some work herself.
As I looked in my closet I tried to find the most seductive outfit that I could. I found a cute
wool skirt and a shirt that showed my bosom. I looked in the mirror and added the final touches.
Fierce! My dreads were pinned up neatly and showed the beauty of my face, my skirt showed my
curves. My heart pounded as I stood outside the club. I knew he would be surprised to find me
alone. As the speaker introduced him , my heart skipped beats, “Amere Rashad”, I have no idea
what he performed… I was too busy wanting and hoping that he would notice me afterwards
and…and whatever happens …happens.
I was sitting at the table by myself enjoying my latte five minutes or so after he
performed… “You made it” his voice…so seductive. “Yes I did, Yvette decided not to come,
but I was on this side of town, so I said why not” I lied…a bad lie. “Well im glad you came,
you look nice” he states as he takes a seat beside me and eyes my chest. “Thank you, you were
great up there!” I honestly had no idea rather he was great or he embarrassed himself up there.
We talked for hours. Though it only seemed like minutes. Our chemistry was great, from how
we acted no one would’ve guessed that he was my student who was damn near ten years younger
then me. We had a vibe, we liked the same music, same movies, same books, novelist. Oh how
I wished that he would’ve taken me right then and there in the back of that club. But we had
something greater than physical sex, we had mental sex. In less than one week, he knew my
fears, my desires, my first name, my past, my secrets. I knew his fears, his goals, his love life.
He was single, he just got out of a serious relationship and was “chillin” for the most part. He
knew that I had been single for about two years now, my last relationship left me heartbroken.
Before we knew it two hours had passed by. “So what are you getting into for the rest of the
night?” he asked. “Not sure, I really don’t have plans”. He invited me to have dinner with him
at a restaurant about a mile away. After dinner and more great convo, I ended up at his place. He
had his own spot, a nice studio apartment.
It happened. My lustful thoughts became actuality. His eyes did more than undress me…his
hands did..his lips..mmm those lips...they made love to my body from head to toe. We made
more than love…we made music and our lust sang the sinful tune..I screamed his name in
ecstasy…Amere Amere….
We spent the whole weekend together. Our affection was repeated some fifteen maybe twenty
times. Reality…
Monday… I look in the mirror and I don’t see the same Unique West who vowed to never fall
in love again. Here I was ecstatic to see my Student in class…Maybe it didn’t register the first
night I envisioned him making love to me…He is my Student I am his teacher…and here I am
trying to decide what to wear because I knew he would be watching me. I spent all Sunday night
reflecting on my weekend. I didn’t get Any Work Done!!
Monday…he wasn’t in class. I called him he didn’t answer. Tuesday…I call..no
answer…Wednesday “Amere Rashad”….absent..call..no answer. This became a pattern for the
next two weeks. Until finally his name wasn’t on the roster. I asked other faculty members had
they heard of him..No one ever had. I found myself hurt, and disappointed. Hurt that someone
who I had shared my deepest secrets with and my body with could betray me..Leave without
a sign. Disappointed that I actually felt hurt…This wasn’t supposed to happen again…I even
dropped by his apartment one day…no one there… I asked a neighbor about him… “This place
has been vacant for about two months now”..this was two weeks after our encounter. It was
as if he never existed. So here I am in love with someone who I was beginning to feel never
existed… Am I going insane? The class didn’t remember him..No one did..but me.. So here I am
lost..im left with nothing but memories of a love affair that only lasted for a weekend before my
lover dropped off the face of the earth…
I miss his lips..kissing me ever so gently…his manhood..entering my love canal..and those
eyes…Those mysterious eyes...
Sometimes I lay here and envision him caressing me…his name escapes my lips, “Amere
Rashad”…if only all fantasies could come true.

“Hold fast to dreams for if dreams die, life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly.” ~Langston Hughes
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Saturday, August 7, 2010
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