This is a voyage through the possibilities of who he is and who he can be in various universes. I welcome you to a world of each and every characteristic of DeVanté is existing as a separate entity in its own universe.
created: 23 February, 2018
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"You said you want to do what?"
Her proposal caught him off guard. He was left stunned in his seat at the sureness she displayed in what she was bringing to the table. He needed her to repeat it for the sake of ensured clarity, repeat it so he knows he heard what he thinks he heard.
His eyes dart between items laid out on the bed as a freshly awaken DeVante scratches the sleep out the corner of his eye. "Okay, so I was watching Dr. Ruth," she started her explanation. "And I realized I had an idea."
They both knew when she claimed to have gotten an idea from a television, it was a preconceived notion that was merely confirmed by the coincidence that the program she was tuned into gave her. This particular idea had been resting within her mental library of carnal desires the day she met her boyfriend two and a half years ago as a receptionist in the office he stumbled into as he sought a record deal.
"Another idea," DeVante laughed to himself, still rubbing his eye, as he showed no shame in how much Samara amused him.
She kissed her teeth, her smile diluting the poison of her attitude. "Yeah, I had a' idea. Why you not taking me serious?"
"'Cause you always gotta' idea," he teased with a laugh. Samara watched him laugh as she struggled to keep her pursed lips stern. Shirtless in the comfort of his bed, DeVante's hand ceased its scratching and hangs above his head on his headboard. "You think this gone be anything different 'cause it's sex? Whatchu' gone do? Try some more anal?"
A moment of silence fell between them. They fought for sincerity until Samara's snort raised her laugh an entire octave, leading DeVante to fall over cackling with his face in the pillows.
DeVante, still laughing, lifts himself up. "Why you laughin'? I'm serious!"
Fighting for composure, Samara drops into a squat in front of the bed as she gasps for air. Once she finally has enough to speak, she stands back up to ask, "Nah, 'cause why you say it like that?"
"Whatchu' want me to say, Mara?" His choice of shortening her name was unique to their peers. Everyone else referred to her as Sam. DeVante was being difficult and wound up being special. "Butt-fuckin'? That shit sounds stupid and the last time you wanted to try something new, you ain't like it. I barely got the tip in," he argues. "So what is all this shit? You want me to do what?"
"Can you stop ruining it? I haven't even gotten to tell you my idea!" He dramatically drops his arms at his sides, a big plop occurring as they fall into the bed. A stare of interest reappears no matter how reluctant DeVante was to her words. "I was watching Dr. Ruth talk about the five senses and how they work in the bedroom. She said experimenting with different ways of enhancing them makes the sex better. So I made a list of them and thought about what I think would be cool for me. If you're being scary, I can go first." Samara's arms fold over her chest.
His head tilted to he left, DeVante goes against his better judgement as she gains his interest. "Read the list, baby." Entertaining her is the least he can do.
