Remoy Philip

writer. creator. producer.

Tenille

Tenille
by Remoy Philip

Tenille was his dilemma. She a blackened woman from the West Indies who had ventured so boldly as she spent a smile his way. Before David could let his conscious undermine himself, his instinctual presuppositions jumped forward. For once in his life, he acted. He acted quick, and to his own surprise, he acted with charm. Moreover, Tenille not expecting this somewhat simple man of no color, whom she found to have a certain underskirt of nervous attraction, to prove a man of delicate joviality and precise charm. But he got her attention quick and with ease. She gave herself up to him without toil. She was his bounty.

Quickly they made their way to her place. David knew that a trek to his apartment would not prove advantageous in the field of his sexual advances, so without question he furthered their romance to her apartment. And there they were, paying no mind to the simple complexity that created the art nouveau decoration that found itself thoroughly and indiscreetly covering the walls of her apartment. Colors mixing with colors. New contagiously corrupting the old.

He wanted her sex. And to both their surprises, she wanted his in return. Alive they both felt that night, as she gave to him totally of her body. He had on many occasion taken notice of the sinewy body of a black woman, but in this case to feel her legs grab hold of his waist, to give pressure to her stomach, to take hold of her muscle bound ass, and to feel her arms pull him in was what gave hold to his primordial arousings. He was barbaric, and never had he been more aroused. Deeper he went; deeper is what he wanted. He was dabbling in evils of the mixing of worlds and of colors.

That night they made not love; that night they had sex for the first time.



Be Relentless,
Peace
Remoy