Page 14 of João
“Oh, you know how they can be…but how about you? How are you?”
“Girl, I’m finer than fine. I should have left that trifling church a while ago. Them people don’t want anything but cookie-cutter congregation members that fall into their respectable view of Christian life. No variation. I shouldn’t have messed around with Theo, but…well, he shouldn’t have messed around with me either. Especially if he was planning to return to his ex-fiancée, the DL son of a…” Vincent rolled his eyes as our gazes connected and he saw my disapproving expression, following me as we sat in his breakfast nook.
“He’s getting married, I think, next week?” I said softly, knowing the situationship had been bigger than Vincent wanted to pretend.
“Girl, good riddance. He might have been the best dick I’ve ever had, but I can find others. I should have never broken my rule about dealing with DL church niggas but you know, the flesh is weak sometimes. And he wasfine. After that youth camp we volunteered at, he said he and Felicia weren’t together and that…” Vincent waved his hands as if trying to paint away the story we both knew by heart. “We know the rest: raunchy sex for months, Felicia finds out, she makes my life miserable in church spreading lies and rumors about me while Theo acts like his hands are tied.”
“We know the rest for real,” I say, feeling at home as we continue chatting and updating each other after three months of being estranged.
“So, I let you skid by the story about Joshua and his new girl, but if you want to be fully forgiven, you’re gonna have to give me more than that.” Vincent pointed his fork at me, then stabbed a few macaroni noodles and sighed as he took a big bite. “Girl, you really know how to make me happy. If only I liked pussy, we’d have made a wonderful couple.”
“You’re wild for that,” I laughed. “You know damn well we wouldn’t have worked well romantically.”
“What you mean, I know? Nah, Gisele, I know your number even if you don’t know yours. I would have been an excellent husband to you, girl, telling you what to do, how to dress, and what time we’re leaving…you’d love that shit. That’s why Joshua was never gonna work; he was too…non-traditional for you.” I scoffed at his words, but a flash of João’s smile and today’s audiobook lingered in my brain.
“You make it sound like I want a daddy; I don’t want that. I just want, I don’t know…structure. I like it. And I know it sounds super anti-feminist of me, but?—”
“Nah, it doesn’t. You’re a big boss at that hospital. You travel the country giving lectures about your career. You volunteer, youspearhead committees at church; girl, you’re a boss. Wanting to relinquish a little control at home never hurt anyone. I’ve always said that you, missy, are kinkier than you think. Whenever you’re ready to go to a munch with me…”
I squirmed in my seat, ignoring his taunt. Vincent’s eyes narrowed as the usual denial didn’t come his way this time.
“Excuse me, where is the ‘I’d never be into kink’ response you usually give me when we get to this section of the conversation?”
“Well, you know my momma ain’t raise no liar.”
“Spill, girl! I need to know everything.”
And so I spilled. I spilled everything I had to tell my best friend—my departure from our church, my mom’s concerns, meeting João—and for the first time in days, I felt like there was an answer lurking in the back of my convoluted thoughts, but only if I could figure it out.
the dom brunch
JOÃO
Dark wood, sports paraphernalia, and a full bar surrounded twenty Black men and one woman as they stood around the space chatting. Sunday mornings in community with like-minded people always set me right for the week.
Years ago, when I was just starting in the kink community, I met an older man, the first Black man who had experience and was willing to share some tips and education to ensure new Black Doms in the lifestyle understood consent and the personal responsibilities involved in being a Dominant. Before I fully understood what RACK i, PRICK ii , and SSC iii meant, I knew from him that I was responsible not only for my actions but for the environment I created for my subs.
Old Man Joe had no acronyms to provide, nothing more than his no-nonsense approach and his belief that Black men in the kink community had an inherent responsibility to create spaces for all people to feel safe.
From my conversations with Old Man Joe to my evolution in the lifestyle, the idea of a brunch between Black Doms, Dommes,and Tops emerged. And what better place to host that than Old Man Joe’s, who didn’t open his doors until after the throngs of professional brunch-goers were neatly tucked into their beds for their mimosa-induced naps.
What started out small and intimate had remained intimate but not so small through the years. Every first Sunday of the month, we made our way to Old Man Joe’s bar, set up some tables on the dance floor, and had Black caterers on rotation to provide the food and service. Old Man Joe served bar food only and no one was gonna convince him to make breakfast for us.
Today’s spread of waffles, fried chicken, baked beans, biscuits, and collard greens was artfully displayed by a young Chef looking for a break to grow his business. If the aroma coming from the buffet line was any indication, he’d be alright.
“Smell good, don’t it?” Old Man Joe nodded to the table while I stood at the perimeter, observing my brethren network in a safe space. Here we could chop it up, discuss new ideas, exchange tips, or just speak to the needs of our community.
“Yeah, Rawana was right. This was a good choice.”
“What am I right about?” Rawana sauntered over to us, her inquisitive eyebrow putting in overtime.
“About young Chef Raul over there. This is good food,” I said.
“How would you know if you haven’t served yourself? And you, Mr. Joe, did you get some food already?” Rawana inquired, giving Old Man Joe a look that had him scurrying over to the buffet table. A faint “She ain’t my boss…” floated toward us, and Rawana pursed her lips.
“Only you get away with talking to Old Man Joe like that.”
“Mhm, someone has to take care of the rickety old man. And someone also has to check on you…how you doing, friend?”
