Pro Black Feminist Part 2: White Boy Summer
It's May. The semester is over. Ariel's time with Danny had been exciting, blending a thin line between terror and euphoria.
Weekends during the semester had melted into each other. She liked the way her body ached afterward, how her pelvis pulsed with a soreness that made her feel both claimed and alive.
But now, summer was here, Ariel had taken her last final and moved back home until the fall semester came around. The dorms were closed and her parents were protective, so she wouldn't be ubering anywhere without their permission. They were always asking questions, always needing to know where she was going and who she'd be with. There would be no spontaneous daily Lyft rides to Danny's place. Her family house was only thirty-five minutes from campus, but being here felt like a world away from the freedom she'd found in the dorms.
They texted every day, but the space between messages seemed to stretch. The energy was different. Words on a screen couldn't replace her riding his long dick and the physical bonds they shared.
May drifted into June, each day dragging more than the last. Her brother had opted to stay on campus at the Q Dog frat house for the majority of the summer, leaving Ariel in a quiet house with just her parents and her own restless thoughts.
Then, one Tuesday morning, everything changed.
She returned from a jog around the block, sweat beading at her temples, earpods still in, and slowed as she stepped into the front hallway. Her parents were in the living room, rolling suitcases across the floor and folding clothes into neat piles.
"Going on a trip?" she asked.
Her mother, Patrisse, looked up with a bright smile. "Yes, dear. We're heading to the Pan-African Leadership Summit for Black women in Accra. We leave Thursday."
Ariel blinked.
Thursday.
That was in two days. She nodded, the corners of her mouth twitching into a smile.
As soon as she got to her room, she pulled out her phone.
"Want to visit this weekend? My parents won't be home. 😉 "
Send.
And just like that, the countdown began.
___
Later that night, Ariel sat cross-legged on her parent's bedroom floor, nestled between her mother's knees.
Neo soul music played in the background as Patrisse worked her hands through her daughter's thick coils. This was their ritual--any time her mother went on a long trip without her, since Ariel could remember, they'd spend a night like this: mother and daughter, catching up over the steady rhythm of hair care.
Tonight, Patrisse was installing faux locs, her fingers moving with practiced grace. She parted Ariel's hair with a wide toothed comb, applied a bit of edge control, then began braiding the foundation for each loc. The scent of shea butter lingered in the air. Each loc was carefully wrapped, twisted, and sealed.
"Hey Ariel," Her mother said, pausing to stretch her fingers, "Do you want to come with us to Ghana? Your dad and I feel bad about leaving you here all alone."
Ariel smirked slightly, her eyes still focused on a muted episode of
Living Single
on the TV. "Nah, that's okay. I'll sit this one out. I had a long semester and just want to decompress at home this summer."
Truth was, she couldn't wait for them to leave.
Her mother was a professor at her university, so honestly she saw enough of her throughout the school year. Her relationship with her dad was complicated as is. He was a narcissistic, overbearing, selfish, and emotionally distant father. He was a man with illusions of grandeur, consumed with how others perceived him rather than how his actions genuinely affected those closest to him. Driven by a grandiose sense of self, he rarely showed concern for the emotional well-being of anyone else in their household. He imposed a rigid, self-centered worldview on his family, disregarding the autonomy of his wife and both children. Decisions were never collaborative; it was always his way or nothing. This controlling dynamic left a lasting strain on most of his personal relationships, including his relationship with Ariel, shaping it with resentment, distance, and unmet emotional needs. To say Ariel had daddy issues, would be an understatement. She yearned for his love, but at the same time hated her father in a way. Even the black history he taught to Ariel and her brother was from a patriarchal point of view. While she wasn't that close to her mother emotionally, she definitely preferred her feminist lens of the world over her father's ideology.
Also, she had already been to Ghana several times with her entire family on African Ancestry trips. Both of her parents had traced their maternal and paternal lineages to Ashanti ancestors and took the entire family to Accra when Ariel and her brother were in highschool. The experience was nice, but Ariel still identified as a Black American. She was born and raised in America after all.
*Ping*
A text from Danny came through. Ariel read it quickly then closed the message, ensuring her mother wouldn't read it over her shoulder.
Her heart raced.
Danny: "Actually, one of my good friends was going to visit me this weekend. His name is Issac. I'll bring him along, get ready to get tag teamed ;)."
Ariel froze for a second. Her mind raced.
His friend? I don't even know what to do with that.
Ariel hadn't even fully processed the notion fully of bringing one white man in her house, let alone more than one person without the knowledge of her parents.
She hadn't experienced this before.
Two guys, two... At the same time?
As in a threesome or a train? Her mind scrambled at the thought, the idea of something more than what she had ever known. She only had sex with Danny and one other person before, both experiences in their own way straightforward, familiar. But the notion of something more complicated, something
different
... it made her heart beat faster, even as the idea seemed so foreign. Could she even handle that?
