Misguided Intentions: Part 1

Bob Marley was blasting through my speakers and I was going nearly 92 mph when I passed a state trooper sitting on the side of the road. Either he was going to pull me over or he wasn’t but either way I knew he’d clocked me by now so there was no point in slowing down. “Rebel Music” was my jam and I was so busy singing on my way out to the campus that I didn’t even think to see how fast I was going. Glancing in the rearview mirror I saw that he hadn’t moved from the spot he was at. That meant he was sleeping or just didn’t give a damn. I counted my blessings because the last thing I needed was another ticket.

Campus security was always looking for a reason to stop someone so I turned down the music as I arrived on campus and pulled into the student parking lot. It was late afternoon and only a few lights could be seen inside the administration building I was headed to. Most classes were over and the professors had long gone home but I was sure Mel would still be working. She was the first professor on campus and most nights, she was the last one leaving the building.

I’ve crushed hard on Mel from the moment I first saw her. After a full year of studying Mel’s movements as she taught, the only thing left to do is to take it to the next level and I’m more than willing. I parked the car and headed towards the door that was always left open. Goose bumps began to spread across my skin but I was in too deep to back out now. Sucking it up, I smiled as the breeze from the air conditioned building slipped under my skirt and tickled my fresh shaven lips. I’d showered and dressed without any under clothes in preparation of our meeting and my nipples were playing games with my camisole.

I walked down the hall and stopped to adjust my clothes before walking into Mel’s classroom. Quiet as a mouse, Mel was sitting down at her desk writing in a notebook. Her glasses were pushed on top of her low shaven head and her button up shirt hung across the back of the chair. The white tank looked as if it was glowing against her dark West African skin. The tank framed her muscles and accented the tribal tattoo on the back of her neck. In another setting, no one would have guessed that Mel was a college professor.

I quietly walked up to the desk and Mel didn’t look up even when my stomach came to rest against her shoulder. Still writing with her right hand, the only other movement was her left hand slowly trailing up the back of my thigh. As if my throat no longer belonged to me, a soft moan of anticipation escaped as I wrapped my arms around her shoulders for support. As much as I tried to remain still, my hips began rocking forward hoping that would cause her hands to move faster. I was wet and the scent of my lust was undeniable.

Leaning forward, my head came to rest on top of hers. My nipples felt as if they were being pulled by invisible fingers and my ears began buzzing. The thought of her placing her fingers inside of me drowned out everything surrounding us. The windows melted, chalk board vanished in thin air, the door began spiraling backwards until nothing existed except my breath and the buzzing in my ears which got louder and louder the more I tried to zone it out.

I sat up and looked around me. I could feel my cheeks turning beet red as I realized I’d been having another dream about Mel. I reached over and turned off my alarm clock before falling back on my pillow. My skin was damp with sweat and my covers had been kicked to the floor during my sleep. My clit was as hard as my nipples and there was no way I could concentrate in the state I was in. I opened the drawer next to my bed and pulled out Ms. B, my trustful vibrator.

The moment the vibration came into contract with my body, I could feel the orgasm creeping up from the tips of my toes. I pinched my nipples with my left hand and rode out the orgasm that was cut short in my dream. A full year of this had taught me that the only way to get Mel out of my mind was by quickly riding the vibration and releasing the feelings that was trapped in between my legs. My body finally came to rest after letting go of the pent up energy.

“Nya! Nya!” I looked up as my little brother walked into my room with his arms stretched out. He was three years old and as cute as they came. Unable to say Nyla, he began calling me Nya and it wasn’t long before the nickname was picked up by the rest of my family.

I slid my toy under the pillow and reached over to pick him up. “Hi Q.” I cooed.

“Nya! I go to bafroom.” He looked down at me with those adorable eyes. Most little boys are hard to potty train but Q was already smarter than the average child. The only problem he had was opening the bathroom door which we kept closed so he wouldn’t get into the toilet or tissue.

“Ok, let’s go little man.” Slipping on my bedroom shoes, we walked out into the hallway past my mother’s room. It was 11am and her bedroom door was closed which meant she had company. Any other time, it would have been open. These days it was closed more times than not which meant she and Derek were getting pretty serious.

My mother and Derek met at church and had been dating on and off for the past four years. From what I could tell, he was a good man. Always clean and well groomed, didn’t have any gold teeth or seem to be seeing any women other than my mother and I hadn’t caught him looking at me in any inappropriate ways. Most of the neighborhood children knew him because he would play handy man when he was off from work. The only bad thing about him is that his job isn’t always guaranteed. He works construction and sometimes he goes for months without working an assignment which means his money gets real tight.

I opened the bathroom door for Q and stood there to make sure he cleaned the seat when he was done and washed his hands. Before I could turn off the light, he ran towards the living room screaming. “Ponge Bob, Ponge Bob!!”

‘Yes Q, let’s watch Sponge Bob. I fixed us two bowls of Captain Crunch and then sat down in front of the TV to watch Sponge Bob with him. Although he was my little brother, I took care of him like my own child. After being the only child for 22 years, my mother came home one afternoon and informed me she was pregnant. A few weeks after that she brought Derek home and introduced him as her special friend.

Having my little brother refreshed my mother. Before he came along it seemed as if she’d resigned to becoming old and just living life. Now she was back to getting her hair and nails done on a regular. We would take Q to the park and watch him play for hours. In the evenings we would take turns teaching him his alphabets and numbers.

I looked over at Q who was completely engrossed with the TV. Thinking of him made me a little sad about graduating. I’ve worked my but off in school and I’ll be graduating this weekend. A few months after that I’m moving to New York to attend grad school. I’ll miss watching my mother tuck him in at night or him waking me up early in the morning for cereal. I leaned over and kissed his forehead.

I jumped off the couch when I heard my cell phone ringing. “Shit!” I screamed in pain as my toe collided with the coffee table.

“Shit!” Q repeated after me.

“Boy watch your mouth!” I yelled back hoping that my mother hadn’t heard him He was quickly picking up words and repeated everything he heard.

By the time I hopped back to my room, the phone had stopped ringing. I picked it up and dialed my best friend Stephanie back. “What’s up hooker?”

“Girl you would not believe where I’m at?” She whispered into the phone. Stephanie’s parents had money and made sure that she didn’t want for anything so there was no telling where she was.

“Hmm, let’s see. Are you inside or outside?” We’d played this question game for years.


“In town or out of town”

“In” She replied with excitement. I sat down on the chaise in front of my bedroom window.

“Ok, business or residence?” I knew my friend like the back of my hand and either she was shopping or she’d hooked up with some woman.


That threw me for a loop because Stephanie is beautiful and women always hit on her. Straightening the pillow behind me, I got comfortable because I knew this was going to be a good story. “Ok is this someone new or old.” I asked narrowing it down.

“Mmm, certainly someone old.” She sighed in the phone.

“Dang, all of that.” The first person that popped in my mind was her ex girlfriend by the way she was carrying on but that was impossible. Shawn was in the WNBA and I knew she was playing a game against NY Liberty tonight. Stephanie and I planned on watching the game later at her house. “Ok, you got me now. I have no idea.”

“Girl I’m at Professor Melcogins’s house.” She rushed into the phone and I could see the smile that spread across her face.

A mixture of emotions hit me before I could reply. “What are you doing there?” I had to get the full scoop before I said anything. We’d both been crushing on Mel but she knew that I had it bad. Mel was on our do not touch list.

“Oh don’t get your panties in a bunch Nyla. I didn’t even know it was her house that we were coming to. My mother dragged me here to look at her new client’s backyard so that we could plan a Jazz Party. Girl you should have seen her open the door in some cream linen pants and shirt. I almost lost my mind.” Stephanie rambled on as a mental picture of the outfit crossed my mind.

“You should see this house. It is huge. I’m talking about a good 5/6000 sq ft. The backyard is just to die for. She has a beautiful stone patio that leads out into a garden and a pool that just screams “Have sex here”. I swear if you weren’t my best friend I would have gotten my flirt on from the moment she opened the door. But the best part is I don’t see no female pictures in sight which means she has to be single so that’s a big plus.

“You have got to be kidding me.” Any woman as fine as Mel had to be locked down. She was attractive, smart, and wealthy. Hell was I missing something?

“Nope, I’m dead serious. She remembered my mom’s event business from the party that we did for the dean earlier this year and she called to set up a consultation. The party is in next month and we’re invited.”

My mouth dropped open. “Stephanie, you have to bring me. Please, please, please!”

“But of course. I wouldn’t come without you. Well I’m lying but you know I love you.” She laughed in the phone before changing the subject. I didn’t hear anything else because my mind was focused on where I was going to shop for an outfit to wear to the party. It would be the last time I saw Mel before leaving for Grad school and I planned on making a hell of an impression.

To be continued…

#Nipple #Family #Winetastingdescriptors #Home #NewYork #Television #NewYorkCity #Stephanie

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Nykieria Chaney, Fred Hampton Stage Play, Black Playwrights,  Zora Neale Hurston Play, Fred Hampton, Black Writers, Black DiBlrectors, Women in Film, Black Playwrights for hire, Black broadway plays, N. Chaney, Nykieria, #FredHampton, #FredHamptonStagePlay, #FredHamptonPlay #ZoraNealeHurston #ZoraNealeHurstonPlay #WomeninFilm #NykieriaChaney #NChaney #BlackPlaywrights #BlackWriters #BlackDirectors #BlackCreators #BlackOwnedBusiness #BlackProductionCompanies #NDCProductions #TheChairman The Chairman #ZoraLetThePeopleSing