The Other Side of the Pillow
Page 36
“Ooh, I love your wife’s lemonade,” I replied. “Besides, you look like you’re about to have a coronary. Not a good look for a cardiologist.”
Floyd threw the ball at my chest and we headed into the house.
* * *
We ended up in Floyd’s man cave watching sports highlights on ESPN.
His wife, Courtney, had come in from shopping with the kids. She came downstairs to speak and then vanished somewhere else in their spacious home.
“Why’d Courtney evaporate so fast?” I asked him.
“This is called a man cave for a reason, Tevin. No women allowed unless they’re dropping off a twelve-pack of beer or some sandwiches.”
I pushed the button to lift the foot portion of the recliner that I was sitting on. “It’s good to see that you have such a high respect for women.”
“Hey, I respect my wife and part of that respect is because she knows how to stay in her lane.”
“Her lane? Isn’t she in the lane right beside you? Your equal?”
“She’s right behind me in the lane. I’m the man, which means that what I say goes.”
“You’re straight tripping. That is that old-fashioned mentality. Chicks aren’t playing that today.”
Floyd muted the television and stared at me. “Old-fashioned, my ass. It’s biblical. Eve was made from Adam’s rib. Point-blank, period.”
We had already switched from lemonade to beer. Neither one of us felt like going back outside to finish the game. I was going to win regardless.
“Point-blank, but no period. While I totally agree that back in the day men ruled the world, you have to admit that a lot of our brethren have surrendered that kind of thinking and are trying to live off women instead. How can they be considered the head of anyone’s household if they aren’t paying any bills?”
“I’ll give you that, but that’s not what’s happening up in here. I pay all the bills and Courtney stays home and raises the kids.”
“Doesn’t she have a degree in psychology from Hampton? Didn’t she minor in business management?”
“Yes, but the only business she’s managing for the next decade, at least, is the business of running this household and letting me take over once I enter my kingdom.”
I shrugged. “Different strokes for different folks. If she likes it, I love it.”
“Not only does she like it, she wants it this way.” He turned the volume up a little so he could hear something the sportscaster was saying. Then he turned it back down. “Courtney went to college but never truly aspired to be anything more than a housewife. Her mother wanted her to become a psychiatrist, but her father sent her to Hampton to find a husband.” He ran his fingers over his chest and patted his abs. “And she found the bomb diggity.”
Floyd was the kind of doctor who thought he was the shit; you couldn’t tell him anything. And as much as he sat there bragging about being such a great husband, I knew he had fucked at least a half-dozen nurses at that hospital. He gave “making rounds” an entirely new meaning.
“Are you still messing with that nurse from the burn unit?” I asked him, trying to knock him down a peg or two. “The married one?”
“Depends on how you define ‘messing with.’ She loves to give head, so I lend her mine a few times a week. I wouldn’t actually fuck her with someone else’s dick.”
“But why do you find it necessary to even do all that? I’m sure Courtney hooks you up. I know you, and there’s no way you would’ve ever married a woman who didn’t give blow jobs.”
“And you are absolutely correct with that statement. However, women suck dick differently and there’s nothing wrong with variety. It’s what makes life interesting. You can’t tell me that every single woman who’s ever gone down on you had the same skills, any more than you can say that they all had the same pussy.”
I couldn’t argue with that and admitted it. “True enough, but I’m not married like you are. When I was, I never cheated on Estella, and I’m not going to cheat on Jemistry.”
“What do you want? The male-saint-of-the-year award?” Floyd sighed and took a swig of beer. “Besides, I would never say never if I were you. There’s always, always someone who could come along and make you eat those words . . . along with her pussy.”
“Not in my case. The same nurses throwing cooch at you throw it at me and I deflect all of them like flies.”
“Damn, now why would you call fine women flies?”
“You know what I mean. I’m not crazy enough to jeopardize my career over casual sex, and you need to stop before it all catches up with you.”