After another typical three-day business trip I was excited to get back home to my husband in Texas. With the kids away at college our sexual intensity was off the charts. We'd fuck to say goodbye and we'd fuck to say hello. If we had time in between we'd get each other off with pictures or texts. We always had great energy, but our new condo in Austin had a certain freedom and youth that our house in the suburbs lacked.
When I boarded my flight I was pleased to see I was seated next to another woman of color in business class. She was in the window seat aggressively texting someone so I chose not to disturb her. I got myself situated and enjoyed my plastic cup of red wine.
"These women are driving me crazy!" my neighbor quietly exclaimed to herself as she loosened her perfectly tightened ponytail into an uncontrollable mane of natural curls. Beneath her luxury professional attire and minimal accessories was a dark skinned sister that was clearly my age and, like myself, didn't look it. "This trip is going to be a disaster," she said to herself.
"Meetings?" I quietly asked. I'm not usually a social person, but I related to homegirl. I was just leaving DC where three of my artists were showing in two different galleries. Three days ago I was in the exact same seat.
"I joined an all-female law firm to help women," she confessed, "but some days I really miss men."
I almost spit out my champagne as I laughed.
"I'm Whitney," I said as we shook hands. Her perfectly manicured hands said she never had kids.
"Latasha," she replied.
"Are Austin women in trouble?" I joked as our plane began to taxi.
"After my divorce," Latasha answered, "I assume all women are in trouble."
As we lifted into the late afternoon DC air we talked about our jobs, our favorite restaurants in DC & Austin and our hair regimen. I had recently cut my hair down to about an inch and she couldn't stop talking about how liberating that must feel.
She was right.
We laughed and bonded like old friends. Perhaps it was the third cup of cheap wine that put us over the top.
About 45 minutes into the flight Latasha mentioned that she'd gone to the University of Michigan. My husband went there the first two years of college before transferring to UCLA where we met. I innocently asked her if she knew Franklin.
She froze. Our nonstop sister-chat hit a wall and I realized that it had to have been Franklin. I replayed every story in my mind that I knew about Franklin before we'd met, but there was very little footage to go through. I knew about 10 of his friends that he went to school with but we didn't talk much about ex's.
I might have stepped on a landmine.
My new best friend at 30,000 feet took a deep breath, asked the flight attendant for two more cups of wine and held onto her seat as though the turbulence in her body was shaking the rest of the plane.
"Franklin Victor Hightower was my first," Latasha admitted with her eyes closed.
"Oh shit," I said as I began to feel a turbulence in my body. The way she said his name carried a weight of more than just a first sexual experience. I wouldn't say Henry Darius Young - the cute boy I would fuck after school my junior year in high school - with that much weight. However, I would have trouble lifting the name Myron Earl Dodge - my sophomore year college boyfriend - off the ground if I had just met his current wife.
"Oh fucking shit," Latasha responded. "You are so fucking beautiful!"
I melted as I realized she knew of me. I wondered why, in this day and age of social media, she hadn't seen me before. Then I remembered a conversation Franklin and I had one day about how none of the women he ever dated had a digital footprint. One of my ex's was a Senator that was always on the news so I would joke that his ex's must have all been losers. The truth was that Franklin, like me, kept a low profile so he chose women who were discreet like himself.
Of course Franklin would add that the biggest loser he chose was me. I'd joke that the Senator's dick was too big. Then he'd ask if the Senator taught me how to suck dick because my head game was atrocious when we met.
Our relationship had no insecurities.
"Were you..." I started to question Latasha, but stopped as I realized I was admitting that Franklin had never once mentioned her.
"It was puppy love," Latasha blocked, as she tried to cover for Franklin and herself.
We sipped from our freshly poured cups and politely stared forward in silence for two solid minutes.
Then, uncharacteristically, I broke.
"Did he take too long to come then?" I asked.
"For fucking ever," Latasha responded.
We broke out in laughter before spending the next 45 minutes comparing notes on everything from his eating habits to how his dick hung left. I never had a girlfriend that I shared these types of details with and there I was with a complete stranger discussing how my husband likes his balls licked now.
I would like to apologize or say your welcome to the old couple sitting behind us.
Latasha and Franklin had an on-again, off-again relationship that was never off-again for her until Franklin transferred schools. Then she got on with her life and focused on school. She had a few boyfriends until she "settled" on her current ex-husband. She said that they were perfect on paper but they never had "chemistry".
When she said "chemistry" I knew in my heart what she meant. I had better partners on paper than Franklin. There were bigger dicks, more money and better jobs before him. But Franklin and I had "chemistry".
"So I've been focused on helping other women," Latasha explained.
By now we had shared too much information, so I had to ask the question we were both thinking.
"How long since..." I started.
"Eric and I stopped fucking a year before we divorced and we've been divorced for three years," Latasha said with a realness I couldn't fathom.
"Oh shit," I said.
"I'm too old for games and too intimidating for most guys," Latasha continued. "I think I just don't know what I want anymore."
I paused before the answer parted my lips. "Chemistry."
Our eyes locked and I played two conversations Franklin and I discussed.
The first idea was that of true love. There are billions people on this planet. If you open up your heart to a hundred, you are bound to find a 'soulmate'. We were lucky that we found each other, but we also found each other in part because we were a bit promiscuous. We knew what we liked because we tried everything on the menu. When that perfect item happened upon our plates we were ready to commit.
Perhaps Latasha and Franklin were matches, but Franklin wasn't ready to commit yet. I loved everything about Latasha and I just met her. We were so much alike and where we weren't, I saw things my husband admitted to finding attractive - especially her dark skin. I was a deep brown at best. Franklin must have loved her skin tone. I loved her skin tone!
And that lead me to the second conversation.
Franklin and I had shared everything sexually to a point where there were no unknowns. We'd "tried everything twice" as he promised we would. I never thought about it, but early on he said that people grow sexually so they'd better grow together or they'd grow apart. It didn't mean much in the early days, but when he asked me to peg him, I was already prepared mentally for there being no finish line. He was freaky and I was down. And we had dozens of video to prove it.
If I wasn't going to fuck him in the ass with a piece of blue plastic, someone else would.
But after 24 years of marriage we'd never brought anyone into our bedroom. We'd talked about it when we were fucking and that turned us on. Then we'd joke about it after dinner and that got us curious. Then we'd talk seriously about it and realized that we were okay with the concept but the kids needed to be out of the house and the opportunity had to fall into our laps. Looking for someone to join us in the bedroom wasn't us. The person would need to simply land in our lives. Plus we didn't know if it would be a woman or a man. We assumed it would be a woman, but I was surprised by the kinky tales Franklin was comfortably telling me about me getting fucked while I sucked his dick. He would say that he wouldn't let me suck someone else's dick because it would be a bad reflection on his teaching ability.
No insecurities with us.
So I took a deep breath as the plane descended.
"Would you like to fuck Franklin?" I asked as the wheels touched down in Austin.
As the jolt from the landing gear shook everyone on the plane I saw a calmness in Latasha that reflected that certainty I had in asking the question. "All three of us," she said clearly.
"Sit still," I demanded as the plane headed toward our gate.
I texted Franklin's best friend from Michigan, Pete, and asked him who Latasha was.
"Franklin's ex?" he responded.
"Was it a bad break up?" I texted.
"They were good. But he met you. Why?" Pete replied.
"Just checking. A little jealousy. Over it. See you Thanksgiving," I ended, knowing the conversation would get to Franklin as well as making sure I wasn't bringing home a psycho that had a restraining order.