Page 14 of Enigma
Dana ??:Cal, since you’re on daddy duty, we plan to take Yanna out on a date and wine and dine her.
Cal: D, y’all better blow a bag on my baby, too. Come bearing gifts and shit ?? Let her know y’all willing to crash out and cash out behind her and that pussy just like me ??????
Mir: You know we wouldn’t have it any other way, Bro.
Cal: D, I would love to take you on a date and catch up when I get back.
Dana ??: I’d love that.
Seeing Cal ask Dana out on a date didn’t lend itself to any feelings of jealousy or possessiveness; instead, it turned me on.
Me: Good morning, my loves! Mir and Dana, what time should I be ready? What should I wear?
Dana ??: A delivery should be arriving this afternoon with everything you need for tonight. Be ready by 10 pm when the driver arrives, and I want your hair down.
My excitement boiled over as Dana sent the details for tonight. I couldn’t wait to see what she and Ahmir had up their sleeves, but something was telling me that it would be a blissful night of pleasure. As I finally made my way out of bed to get ready to hit the gym, my phone started to ring. Looking at the screen, it was my mother calling, and an audible groan instantly fell from my lips.
“Mom, to what do I owe the pleasure of the call?” I asked as my guard and defenses instantly went up.
“Oh, Yanna, please, save the dramatics. I’ve been calling you, but for some reason, I can never get a hold of you or the kids,” she said on an exasperated huff, causing me to chuckle under my breath.
While I loved my mother dearly, she was a forever victim. Everything bad in her life was always the fault of someone else and never any fault of her own.
My father left my mother and filed for divorce when I was 13, and I remember the relief that washed over me when he said he would be petitioning the court to get full custody. My father tried his best to be happy with my mother. Still, her constant mood swings and irrational bouts of behavior managed to suck the happiness out of our home until there was nothing left but the tension that always threatened to suffocate anyone who was in the same room with them longer than a few minutes. My father had tried on numerous occasions to get my mother to seek professional help for what he believed was an undiagnosed mental health condition. However, she refused every time and spiraled out for days after by ignoring my father and withholding her love and affection from me because, according to her, I was plotting and scheming on her demise along with my dad. She maintained that everything was fine with her, and everyone else, including my father and me, was the problem. It wasn’t until she had a manic episode leading to a mental breakdown that nearly cost us our lives on my 13th birthday, when she parked her car on the train tracks as a train was heading towards us full speed ahead with the doors locked, that she was finally committed involuntarily, where she was diagnosed withSchizotypal personality disorder. That was her first of many stints in a mental health facility because Lilian Graves refused to consistently undergo medical care and supervision so that she could have a life of normalcy. While she was a stunning woman who turned heads whenever she decided to leave the house, that was where her beauty began and ended. Every other memory I have of my childhood causes my stomach to sour because my mother opted to find normalcy in the chaos of her mental health issues over being better for me and to me.
Over the years, my father, Anthony Graves, did his best to cultivate a relationship between my mother and me; however, her irrational and erratic behavior made the task insurmountable. As I got older, I’d given up on having a relationship with her, because even when she was on meds, she refused to acknowledge or be accountable for her inadequate parenting and how she made my childhood feel empty in so many ways. Nothing can prepare a young girl for parental abandonment, though their mother, who is very much alive, refuses to be well. Lilian missed birthdays, dances, cheerleading competitions, graduations, prom, to name a few. When I finally went off to college, I was free of my mother in so many ways and decided to seek out therapy to help me sort through my mommy issues so that my journey to becoming a doctor wouldn’t be more difficult due to my parental trauma. As I was preparing for medical school and graduating with a Bachelor’s degree in chemistry, therapy had worked wonders for me as a young girl blossoming into a young woman, even allowing me to heal in a way that I was able to make peace with the mother I had instead of being angry at the mother I wanted. Therapy had also instilled in me the importance of boundaries and protecting my peace, and over the years, I had learned to stand my ground when it came to Lilian and her bullshit.
“Lilian, if you called to pick an argument, we can hang up the phone and try again another day; otherwise, we can discuss the actual reason you called,” I said, refusing to let her ruin the high I was on in anticipation of my date tonight.
“Fine,” she huffed out, “I miss you, Yanna, I haven’t seen you or the kids since Angel passed, and I want to change that,” she stated, seeming reasonably sincere.
For once, I couldn’t hold my mother to the fire for her absence because she had done her best to call, text, and FaceTime me and the kids frequently, even inviting me to dinner on multiple occasions. Usually, I would politely decline and state work as the cause, though it was a lie. All my life, my mother’s mental state had been fragile, requiring little effort to send her into an episode, so I opted not to sit my grief on her shoulders because in the now, I couldn’t bear it breaking her more. In my mind, I knew that one day she would break beyond what could be repaired, and honestly, my heart wouldn’t be able to handle it, so I stayed away for both of us.
“I’m better, y’know,” she announced, as if she could hear my thoughts. “I’ve been under the supervision of a great team, and I’m doing psychotherapy,” she said, pausing to see if I would say anything, but I remained quiet, stunned really as she continued, “I’m also on a really balanced medication regimen that has been a big help as well.”
“That’s really good, Mom, I’m so proud of you,” I stated, feeling a range of emotions.
“I know you’re afraid to let me in because we’ve been doing this same song and dance for so long, but I just— I,” the line got quiet as my eyes started to water.
“I’ll go, Mom, just tell me the time and place, and I’ll be there,” I blurted out. Something about this call felt different, and I was willing to meet her halfway to see if that was truly the case.
“Thank you, thank you so much, baby girl. I’ll text you the details!” Excitement radiated from her words. As the doorbell began to ring, my mom told me she loved me and would see me soon. I returned the sentiment, and we ended the call.
Answering the door in some Ralph Lauren sleep shorts and a tank top, my mouth hit the floor as multiple delivery trucks lined the street, and the driver began asking me where I wanted the flowers and boxes. After five bouquets of long-stem roses containing 75 roses each were placed on the tables and counters, and five boxes of varying sizes were placed at the door, the last delivery person handed me an envelope as he was collecting my signature and flirted, “I’d let you have every check and my bonuses too.” I chuckled and thanked him as I closed the door.
Let The Date Night Begin
“As you read this, we only hope you’re overcome with excitement for our date,” the note started, “Tonight is all about you, your pleasure, your enjoyment, and your contentment. Please open each box where you’ll find everything you need for tonight. XOXO - Dana and Ahmir.”
I grabbed the first box to open because it was the smallest of the five, and as I removed the ribbon and opened it, my clit started to pulsate as I stared at an extra small black vibrating butt plug and black lace vibrating panties. Noticing the remotes to the plug and panties had not been included in the box, I knew what type of night I’d be having. A small note was at the bottom of the box and read, “One, two, or can you handle a few? Make sure both are where they need to be - Ahmir.”
As I continued to unbox my gifts, I was never more ready to see my newest lovers. Tonight, I’d be wearing a cherry red latex bodycon dress with gold hardware, gold jewelry, a metallic red Christian Louboutin patent leather clutch, and the matching So Kates, gifted to me by none other than Caleb. Opening the card, the message made my heart swell and clitoris pulsate, “Baby, while I wish I were there, the next best thing is knowing they’ll get to experience that phat soft round ass sitting up beautifully in those heels. Enjoy yourself and send Daddy some pics.”
I smiled and headed upstairs to shower and start my hair and makeup. Tonight I was in a sexy, sultry, vixen mood, so I was going to wear my hair down with big, bouncy beach curls, natural glam with my makeup, and finish the look off with a bold red lip for some razzle dazzle. If Ahmir and Dana were going to bring their A game tonight, then I was certainly going to make sure I did the same. My goal was to have them eating out of the palm of my hand and submitting to my every whim; my mood for the night was GAME ON.
Finishing my hair and makeup, I decide to film a very adult “GRWM” just for Cal, Ahmir, and Dana. I set up my ring light and phone, turned on ‘Speechless’ by Beyonce, as I hit record, as I sensually rubbed oil all over my plush body with my favorite shimmering body oil so I could slip my new anal plug in and ease my way into my dress. Leaning forward and spreading my legs, I reached back with my fingers coated with peach-flavored warming edible lube and rubbed them around my puckered asshole before gently sliding two fingers inside and slowly pumping them in and out as I moaned. Taking them out, I grabbed the plug, coating it in lube, and slowly worked it in my tight but ready backdoor as I moaned in satisfaction. If the night ended how I anticipated, all my holes would be penetrated and pleased, repeatedly. After inserting the plug, I slipped on the vibrating panties and began to ease my glistening body into my dress, feeling sexier by the second. Completing my task, I twirled slowly, rubbing my hands on my latex-covered curves for my intended audience, getting to my breasts, I winked and giggled before putting on my jewelry, hitting key spots on my body with perfume, and sliding into my heels. Once again, I stepped back so my complete look could be seen as I blew a kiss to the camera. I ended the recording, editing it into smaller segments, and prepared to take a few more pictures before the driver arrived. As I sent the first video to the group chat, I leaned against my counter, preparing to leave, as a message let me know the driver was a few minutes away.
Dana??: We can skip straight to dessert, is what this video is saying to me.
