Rhythm And Blues III

“R&B what happened with the beautiful lady you walked out of here with the other night?” Asked Joe.
Joe was the bartender at the Total Lounge The total lounges where R&B held a residential gig blowing the saxophone on Friday Saturdays and Sundays sometimes on Mondays it blew this bitch down. He would captivate the ladies then slide with the prettiest.
Before the show, R&B set at the bar with Joe. He sipped on the double shot of Hennessy while shooting the breeze. “come on Joe you know what happened to her.”
“No I don’t,” Joe said shaking his head. Joe’s smile was wide. He was wiping down the bar chuckling. “I need to know the details brother. Could she sing?” Joe was an overweight brother, like Heavy-D the overweight lover… Joe used to be in the house. Once upon a time he had a hand up every skirt in this joint. Now Joe was a married man and he could no longer dally. So, he enjoyed serving drinks and listening to R&B tell tales about the skirts that he lifted.
“Oh man Joe,” R&B said in between a sip of the Hennessy. “You don’t really want to know.”
“Lothario, I grow impatient at the length of your exordium,” the two of them laughed.
“She brayed like a donkey Joe,” R&B said shrugging the shoulders.
“Noo,” Joe hollered, contorting his face into a pained expression. “not that angel for woman. No I won’t believe it.” He slammed his towel on the counter in disbelief.
“But,” R&B continued. “She could blow a saxophone.” Their laughter was heavy, as R&B sat at the bar unloading a slew of stories of his latest affairs.
Joe was the only person that R&B considered as a friend. Joe was an old friend, a back in the day friend, a Back Maryland friend. Joe knew the game that a player played and respected the player’s code. Though Joe hung his hat he still lived by the player’s way.
Joe held R&B’s words close to his chest. He never repeated not one of R&B’s tales. Unlike these new cats, Joe didn’t hate the player he loved the game. It was just so happen that he ran into the perfect somebody and she wouldn’t allow him to runaway. Joe put a ring on it. And he was now a married man, so now he lived by the married man’s code faithfully so
“So R&B,” Joe started. “When are you going to find that perfect somebody and hang your hat up my brother?” Since being married, Joe would always attempt to get R&B to open his eyes to what was the foundation of life. A family. A home. But, R&B was R&B.
R&B smoothed his hand over his waves. “Never—My R&B is forever.”
“That nigga is going to learn the wrong way,” Joe said to himself, shaking his head. Joe wanted his friend to see that the player’s way always ends in a bad way. Standing behind the bar of the Total Lounge for the last fifteen years, Joe seen the player’s way end in every way imaginable. Death, jail, alcohol and drugs. Only a few chose to do it Joe’s way. They were the ones who stood behind the bar, and sold the game. Cause after the game was to be sold, not to be told. And Joe would forever live by the player’s code.
On the stage, R&B was doing his thing. His saxophone was blowing away. He was scoping the scene looking for the prettiest thing in the Lounge tonight. Somehow, the prettiest lady in the building didn’t have her eyes on him. Still she swayed her hips to his R&B. Her beauty was stirring his interest. To him she paid no attention, though she groove to the tune of his saxophone.
Her appearance was calling his name, Sexy vanilla. He wanted to be her caramel swirl. He continued to blow his R&B. She grooved intensely swaying her hips. Her rhythm was hypnotizing. Her disinterest was mesmerizing. R&B was blowing his soul through the tube of the saxophone sending his R&B in the direction of the pretty lady. The baddest woman in the lounge tonight she will feel his R&B up close and personal.
Tanisha was on the dance floor of the Total Lounge. Of course, Rhonda pulled her out of the hohouse”Girl I ain’t letting you stay cooped up in this house. Not tonight,” Rhonda said when she burst through Tanisha’s door.
Tonight was no special night. It was a regular old Friday. And Rhonda was a Friday night party night type. Since Tanisha kicked lame ol’ such and such out, Rhonda hadn’t seen her girl crack a smile in weeks. “No need to waste those teeth gritting and grinding them away,” Rhonda said pulled Tanisha off of her couch. “This is no way to spend a Friday. On the couch, sipping Hennessy and listen to R&B,” Rhonda shook her head. “You can do this in the club.”
“But I don’t want to go to the club,” Tanisha protested.
Rhonda wasn’t hearing it none of it. “The Total Lounge is supposed to be lit tonight.”
Tanisha acquiesced. Now here they were swaying, grooving and dancing the night away. Unlike Rhonda, Tanisha was not here looking to hook up with anyone. So unapologetically, Tanisha curbed every dude that approached her, “I’m sorry you’re not my type,” she would say and dance away.
The brother on the stage blowing the instrument had lungs. He could blow. Tanisha was grateful for his saxophone. The manner in which he blew tunes of R&B made Tanisha fell as though his tunes were directed at her. The brother made it feel personal. And personal is what Tanisha needed. She needed to get out of her own head and emotions. And his R&B was allowing her to leave it on the dance floor.
Rhonda was grinding on every man who had a print. Rhonda’s model was, “if you could see it through his pants then it deserves to be pressed against my ass.” And by the end of the night the man who pressed the hardest would land between her legs. “It’s 2023 girl chivalry is dead. I just want some head and a big dick,” was Rhonda’s response to Tanisha’s disapproval. “If you were more like me you wouldn’t be sitting home nursing your broken heart.
Tanisha maintain not being broken hearted over such and such but Rhonda knew better around the witnessed all of the love that Tanisha invested in that no good mother fucker. Tanisha’s love investment was Rhonda’s sensible reason for never giving a man her heart. “He could have the pussy, but I’m keeping my heart.”
Rhonda with the darkest of the ebony hue. A chocolate covered plum, soft to the touch, juicy to the palate. 5’9 and curvaceous. In heels, she towered over most men. And Rhonda loved it this way. She loved for a man to look up into her eyes and shoot his shot as if he was praying for the pussy.
Besides a man with a big dick, Rhonda’s aspirations were many. Every dream that was worth having she chased assiduously. That’s the reason Tanisha was her best friend. They were some trouble please and bitches.
The night was coming to an end. Rhonda had her mind set. She was leaving with, “Uh,” she forgot his name. But he was fine, and he knew how to grind, and she was imagining all of the things he would do to her when they reached his hotel room. Rhonda found Tanisha on the dance floor. “All these men in here, and you’re dancing alone,” she shook her head. She was holding on to the man whose name she had forgotten. “Anyway I’m going to his room. I’ll see you in the a.m.” was Rhonda’s parting.
All that Tanisha could do was suck her teeth. Rhonda pulled her out of the house. Now Rhonda was leaving her. She should have known. What else was there to expect from Rhonda? The girl was hot blooded. Still Tanisha was grateful for being pulled out of the house. She enjoyed herself, the R&B was to die for. The brother blowing on the instrument deserved an award for his performance. Tanisha had practically dance the night away and if she took another sip of Hennessy her inner Rhonda would be freed and she would get fucked. Before she allowed that to happen to herself She called an Uber and left alone.
R&B caught glimpse of the gorgeous women’s white shirt as she slid away. He was amazed. He blew all of his R&B in her direction and she made no attempt to catch his eyes. Now she was gone. Like a thief in the night she left with his R&B. Never in his saxophone blowing life, did he ever blow a tune so strong and miss. “Uh!” He was confounded. How would he get his R&B back from Cinderella?

Published by korymcclary1221

My name is Kory McClary, I am 34 years old. I am currently serving a lengthy sentence at the New Jersey State prison in Trenton, New Jersey. I am fighting for my freedom so that I may return to my family and loved ones. Yet, I know that it is a long, tough, and bitter battle to achieve that goal. But, with the grace of God Almighty, and for the sake of my family, I will fight on. I am using this blog as a medium to enhance my voice and to bring awareness to my unfair condition leading out of my unjust conviction. While spending almost all of my time in a cell, I chose to write so that I may voice the reality of my situation, because without awareness there can never be Justice...! To escape the harsh reality of prison, I use the pen to release my frustrations. I use the pen to manifest my imagination. And, most of all, I use the pen to Fight. I am fighting for my Life! Just by reading Kory McClary's Blog, you are giving my plight and my word's a voice. Thank you. Please, stay tuned...

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