Samson dragged his carry on through the crowded LAX airport, weaving through the crowd of people. After a quick stop at Starbucks, he and his ice coffee made their way to the exit. On the way, he was stopped by a couple airport occupants who thanked him for his service. A few of them tried to start up conversations, asking about where he’d been and what branch he was in, but Samson had no time for questions or small talk. All the soldier cared about was getting home. When he finally made it outside, he cursed himself for not ordering his Uber whilst still inside; he hated waiting. Thankfully, with it being the airport and all, he got a ride instantly; the driver being less than a minute away. When the luxurious SUV pulled up to the curb, Samson wasted no time throwing his carry-on and backpack into the trunk; He didn’t even give the driver a chance to get out of the car. After tossing his bag into the seat, he hopped into the car.
“Samson?” The driver asked, reading the name on his screen.
“That’s me.” Samson smiled.
“And we’re going to 2257 Lakewood drive?” The man asked.
“That’s right. Home sweet home.”
The driver laughed as he put the car into drive.
“Yeah, I know that feeling. Where are you coming from?” He asked.
“Denver.” Samson lied.
Well half lied.
He had been in Denver, but before that he was in Syria. But this man didn’t need to know that. This was a long car ride and the last thing Sam needed was a bunch of questions like; ‘How many people did you kill?’ Or ‘Why are you guys over there anyways?’ To Sam, the military’s a job, and when his bosses send him somewhere, ‘Why the fuck am I here?’ Isn’t really high on the list of questions for him.
“Oh nice. What’s in Denver?” The driver asked.
“Friends.” Samson said.
Another half lie. He did have friends in Denver, but he was only there for a few hours. Not nearly enough time to see anyone. Although he did run into his older brother Mike at the airport. They had coffee and chopped it up for a little bit. They hadn’t seen one another since Christmas after all.
Looking at the window, Samson watched purdesteriands dressed in short shorts jog past.
‘Jesus, it’s been so long.’ He thought to himself.
The day he’d left, Samson almost broke his back when he slipped on the ice in the driveway.
“Babe, put on some real shoes, it’s icy out there.” Ryan said as Samson collected the car keys from the key ring by the door.
He paid Ryan no mind. Tugging on his coat, he slipped out the door hearing Ryan mumbling something along the lines of;
“Damnit, that man’s gonna be the death of me.”
Sure enough, seconds later, just like Ryan said, Samson’s arms were flailing around like a cartoon character as he tried to prevent himself from falling. But it was no use. He came crashing down onto the ice, ass first. It was just like in the movies. The loud thud of his landing caused Ryan to rush to the door.
“What did I fucking say?!” Ryan laughed.
He tried to play it off, quickly getting up and turning towards the door to present Ryan with his middle finger; But fuck was his ass swore.
Chuckling to himself, Sam shook his head as he came back to reality; just in time too.
“Home sweet home.” The driver smiled as he pulled up to the house.
Sam turned and looked out the window. The yard where there once was snow was now green.
“Thanks” Sam said as he threw open his door.
After collecting his luggage from the car, he closed the trunk and bid the driver a goodbye before turning towards his house.
“Daddy!” A high pitched voice yelled.
Looking up, Sam’s face instantly lit up as he watched his son, Jackson, run towards him. Within seconds, Jackson was in his arms, the pair spinning in circles as the small boy laughed.
“Daddy, you’re home!” The boy said.
They‘d stopped spinning, but Jackson continued clinging to his father.
“I missed you so much.” Jackson said, his voice shaky and raw.
Sam rubbed his son’s back, in effort to sooth him.
“I missed you too.” Sam said back, his eyes sealed shut.
“But I missed you the most.” Said a deep voice.
Opening his eyes and looking up, Sam came face to face with his husband.
Dressed in a form fitting white tee, and a pair of….
“Wait! Are those my pants?!” Samson asked.
Setting his son down, Samson advanced towards Ryan, hooking a finger in one of the belt loops of the dark blue jeans.
“Please, you don’t have the butt for these.” Ryan said, rolling his eyes.
Paying his husband no mind, Samson attempted to flip the waistband of the jeans in side out.
“What are you doing? Not in front of our son!” Ryan said, backing away from his husband.
“I just wanna see the tag.” Samson said, moving forward with every step Ryan took back.
“No. Get away from me!” Ryan said, moving further away.
“Just let me see the tag.”
“No.” Ryan said.
“Why because it’ll say Sam?”
“No, because as your husband you should trust me when I say these are NOT your pants.” Ryan said matter-of-factly.
“Then let me see.”
Samson continued to reach for the waistband of the jean, causing Ryan to back up further and further until Samson finally managed to grab the back of the jeans. But it was too late.
“Jackson run!” Ryan ordered before turning around and taking off.
He was fast. He was a track star after all. But that was back in high school; Ryan didn’t run anymore. But Samson did. Ten miles a day, this was nothing to him. Bobbing and weaving, Samson chased his husband around the yard like a bloodhound. Ryan ran this way and that way, hoping to trip Samson up, but Samson never fell for it, not even when Ryan ran into the backyard, pulling the small fence door behind him.Chasing Ryan into the backyard, Samson launched into the air, tucking his legs beneath him and clearing the fence. Then, after sticking the landing, he turned towards Ryan, who stood stunned in the middle of the yard. Charging at him, Samson tackled his husband, sending the two of them flying. A second later, the two men crashed into the ground, a few feet from where Ryan had stood.
“Got cha.” Samson whispered, lying on top of his husband.
“Yeah! You got ‘em daddy!” Jackson cheered before jumping onto Samson’s back.
The two men laughed.
Then, leaning down, Samson pressed a kiss to Ryan’s lips.
“Welcome home baby.” Ryan mumbled softly.
Sam stood on in the sand, the warm waves crashing at her feet as she gripped the letter in her hand.
‘To my dearest Sam’
What was she, fucking ninety?
‘I’m so sorry…’
That was it. Those three words. Those first three words were the only bit of Sarah’s letter that Sam could stomach. The rest of it? Bullshit excuses. How did Sam know? She didn’t, but hating Sarah for being selfish was a billion times easier than missing her. Missing Sarah met thinking about her and in doing so, Sam would have too many questions. Too many why’s, how come’s and… what kind of sick fuck plans an entire future out with their signaifcant other only to turn around and off themselves that very night.
How? How could Sarah really be gone when she was just in Sam’s arms. They laid in the hammock in Sarah’s backyard, underneath millions of stars, they planned their wedding. Sure they were only nineteen, but still. That night, Sarah said the words; “Let’s have a monkey as our ring bearer” as if it were a promise. That night Sam and Sarah talked about the future as if they were planning a novel or writing a script. They spoke as if their tongues were made of magic, and every word they said would be a wish come true so long as they said it out loud; To each other. But when morning came, all those promises were washed away.
When Sam got the news, she thought it was a bad trip or a nightmare; But no matter how much she screamed for herself to wake up, she couldn’t. She was trapped, trapped in something called ‘real life.’ But suddenly it wasn’t real anymore. At least not without Sarah in it.
Blood leaked from his face. The fragments of the metal plate lodge in his face.
“Wallace! Wallace, can you hear me!”
Everything was distant. Blurred.
Wallace Malcom Jean pressed his palm into his side, right over his rib cage. His wound throbbing as if it had its own pulse.
Wallace blinked several times, the clarity of his his lover’s face fading in and out.
“Wallace, you’re hurt. It looks pretty bad. Are you in any pain?” Roger, his lover, asked.
Everything was so far. The room, Roger, hell even his own body. It all felt light years away.
Wallace attempted to speak, but his lips only flapped like hawk wings; no sound coming from him.
Thick, black smoke, slithered it’s way through the lab, preventing the two men from seeing anything other than one another; despite the close proximity.
Roger smacked the ground, feeling around the the manilla￼ that Wallace had be holding before the explosion; When suddenly the lab door flew open.
“What the fuck?!”
Bethany Jean, Wallace’s daughter, looked around at what was left of the lab before looking to the two men in the middle of the room.
“What happened?” She asked, looking to Roger.
Roger looked up at her.
‘Should I tell her?’ He wondered.
She wouldn’t understand. She never did. Besides, if Beth found out about the time machine, and the fact that he and Wallace had been in contact with both past and future versions of themselves, she’d freak. So, he settled for giving her as little information as possible.
“Experiment gone bad.” He said mumbled.
Beth rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, no shit? But why? How? What were you assholes doing?”
Fuck. Roger wasn’t good at thinking on his feet.
“The gays.” Wallace croaked from the floor.
“What?” Roger and Beth chorused.
“The gays from the past. We wanted to see how they lived. It is Pride after all.” Wallace said.
Beth rolled her eyes.
“See. This is why you shouldn’t be allowed to date people half your age. They make you do dumb shit like this!” She said.
Not waiting for a responds, she stormed out of the lab, leaving the two men to stare at one another.
“Good cover up.” Roger laughed.
“Yeah. But know I really do wanna go see those gays now.” Wallace said.
Roger rolled his eyes as he helped Wallace into a sitting position.
“Alright babe. But if someone tries to fucking hang me, I swear. Being black is hard enough. Sometimes being gay and black seems impossible.”
Roger collected his boyfriend off the floor and walked him over to the computer in the center of the room. After a little bit of Googling, they found their area.
“Sixties, here we come!” Wallace laughed.
After typing in the year 1969, mostly for tickles, Wallace powered up the other time machine once again, this time letting it warm up a bit before taking Rodgers’ hand and jumping into the vortex.
Mya sat outside the dressing room, waiting for Huston to step out. Mindlessly scrolling through Instagram, she liked a few pictures here and there before she heard someone clear their throat. Looking up, Mya took in Huston as she leans against the door frame.
“You like?” Huston asked.
Pushing off the wall, Huston stepped out into the middle of the hallway and spun in a small circle; giving Mya a full view of her attire. Huston wore a black, form fitting slacks with a matching suit jacket. Underneath the jacket, she wore a blood red button up; the first few buttons left undone; her neck and the space just above her breast on full display.
Looking at Huston, Mya’s mouth went dry. All the moisture that once coated her tongue had now traveled southward, ruining her favorite pair of black, lacey, underwear.
“Mya?” Huston called out.
Maya’s head was spinning at this point. Six months. She’d spent half of a year, trying to convince herself that she was straight; that Riley was the one whom she loved. One hundred eighty-two days of convincing; wiped away in a matter of fourteen days.
Looking at Huston, Mya lost it. Before Mya knew it, she was up on her feet, walking towards the other woman. Without a word, she pressed her hands to the blonde’s chest, pushing her backwards.
“My, you okay?” Huston asked.
Mya didn’t respond; instead she pushed on Huston’s chest until they were inside the dressing room. Confusion took over Huston’s features as she watched Mya lock the door with the shaky hands. Then, turning back around, Mya pressed Huston against the wall of the small dressing room; their faces just inches apart.
“Kiss me.” Mya whispered.
Her voice was thick with need; her tone needy and pain filled. Huston couldn’t believe her ears.
“Wh- what?” Huston asked.
The blonde’s eyes fluttered as she tried to process what she was hearing.
Mya moved in closer, pressing her body against Huston’s. Drunken with desire, she brushed her nose against Huston’s; her eyes fluttering.
“I… I want you to… kiss me.” Mya said hesitantly.
Something snapped within Huston causing her to launch forward, capturing Mya’s lips with her own. Their mouths came crashing together; tongues embracing one another as if they were old friends reuniting after being a part for far too long.
Huston tasted like Hubba Bubba and cigarettes; a combination that sounded horrible on paper; But Mya seemed to find it to be heavenly in that moment.
They kissed one another hungrily, their hands roam each other’s bodies frantically; It was almost as if the two were using the sense of touch to memorize one another. Mya’s hands slid up Houston’s shirt, gliding over her toned stomach, and up her rib cage as Houston’s hands gripped Mya’s ass.
Then, when the need for oxygen made itself present, Mya pulled back from the kiss; Still in a bit of a daze. Then, tilting her head back, Mya sighed with pleasure as Huston strolled kisses up and down the length of her neck. Huston left a few bites here and there, as she got lost in the other women’s soft, sun kissed skin, before realizing that Mya’s movements had stopped. So Huston stopped as well.
“Shit, sorry.” Huston said.
Withdrawing herself from Mya, Huston wiped her mouth. She didn’t look at Mya.
Mya’s heart was still racing as she cleared her throat, rubbing the part of her neck where Huston’s mouth had just been. She had a hickey. There was no question about it.
“I like the suit.” Mya said suddenly.
Her eyes grew dark; a lustful hunger arising within her.
“Take it off so we can buy it and go.”
Without question, Huston began stripping; Mya, still in the dressing room.
Mya didn’t even make the effort to even pretend she wasn’t looking. She simply sat down on the bench, watching Huston strip down. Then, once Huston was back in her own clothes, Mya slipped out first; Huston waiting a few minutes before following. She then paid for the suit before walking out the store to find Mya awaiting her. After Mya grabbed Huston’s hand, the two women practically bolted to the car; neither caring about the odd looks they got.
Mya shoved Huston into the apartment before walking in herself and dropping her bag by the door. Lunching forward, Mya threw herself at Huston, forcing the blonde to catch her. Just like in the dressing room, their mouth collided, the kiss twice as hot and passionate as the one they’d shared in the dressing room. Within seconds, clothes began falling as the two women stumbled blindly through Huston’s loft. Bumping into the dining room table, Huston spun them around. Then, with one swipe of her arm, she cleared the table and hoisted Mya onto it. Huston then pressed a few kisses to Mya’s lips before trailing her kisses down Mya’s neck. Moving unto her chest, Huston kissed, and kissed, and kissed some more until her face was buried in Mya’s cleavage. Needing more skin to worship, Huston pulled Mya’s tank top from her jeans; pulling back to look at Mya.
“Whaddya say we get rid of this?” Huston asked, causing Mya to bite her lip.
Without a word, Mya peeled off the top, tossing it behind Huston.
Huston smiled, before dipping her head to kiss the exposed parts of Mya’s breast. Meanwhile, Maya slipped her hands beneath Huston’s shirt and scrapped her nails against the blondes abdomen.
“I want this gone.” Mya demanded, tugging at the offending fabric.
“So take it off me then” Huston teased.
Pushing the blonde back, Mya removed the shirt in one swift motion before tossing it to the ground. Then, grabbing her by the belt, Mya pulled Huston flush against her, kissing the blonde deeply and passionately. Then, as they kissed and kissed some more, Huston ran a hand down Mya’s body, over her belt, and between her legs. Pressing hard against her center, Huston rubbed the other woman’s center.
Groaning, Mya worked her hips to the pace that Huston had set. Then, before she knew it, her hips speed up, wanting more of what Huston was more than willing to give her.
“Upstairs. Take me upstairs.” Mya pleaded.
Granting her wish, Huston lifted her from the table; Mya’s endless legs snaking around Huston’s waist. Then, turning around, Huston began making her way to the stairs.
“Mmm. Fuck. Can’t see.” Huston mumbled, as Mya smothered her with kisses.
Mya reluctantly moved to the right side of Huston’s neck; assaulting the flesh there with a few kisses, stokes of her tongue, and a couple of nibbles here and there.
Breathing heavily, Huston focused on getting them to the bedroom; Doing her best to ignore her shaky knees that threatened to buckle under her. The way Mya’s mouth worked against the blond’s neck made Huston dizzy.
When Huston finally reached the top of the stairs, she fisted her hand into Mya’s hair, her hand full of brown curls, and pulled Mya from the crook of her neck.
Then crashing her lips into Mya’s, Huston stumbled down the hall to her bedroom. Upon arrival, Huston kicked the door, causing it to fly open, hitting the wall with a loud smack. Still kissing Mya, Huston crossed the threshold, kicking the door once again; this time closing it.
It was only then that Mya untangled her legs from around Huston, causing the blonde to set Mya back on her feet.
Mya fell back onto the bed, propping herself up on her elbows so she could take in the sight that was Huston.
“Strip.” She demanded, causing the blonde to smirk.
“Do you want me to dance too?” The blonde asked, losing her tie.
Mya shook her head.
“No, just take off your clothes.” Mya said.
Doing as she was told, Huston pulled off her tie off, dropping to the floor starting on the buttons of her shirt. Staring into Mya’s eyes, Huston unbuttoned her shirt one button at a time, her eyes never leaving Mya’s. Then, when all of the buttons had been undone, rather than taking the shirt off, she kicked off her shoes whilst undoing her pants. Once her pants her open, she let them fall to the ground before removing her shirt as well. Then, standing at the foot of the bed, she wore nothing but a black harness, a matching dildo hanging from her hips, and her socks.
“I like to keep my socks on. That’s cool with you?” Huston asked, cocking her head to the side.
“Yeah. Now come fuck me.” Mya said.
Not needing to be told twice, Huston crawled onto the bed and over Mya before settling between her legs. Then, after lining the toy up with Mya’s entrance, Huston sunk down into her, beginning a long and wild night.
Hey, I’m Ninise Modestin, and welcome to the Royal Blue Network. Whether you’re here because you follow @TheRoyalBlueNetwork on Instagram, or because you follow my personal Twitter account, @NiniseModestin; I want to thank you for coming.
As a kid, I spent a lot of time watching TV. Shows like CatDog, The Power Puff Girls, Dexter’s Laboratory, Zoey 101, iCarly, and many more, shaped my childhood. When I think of these shows, I get so nostalgic.
Now that I’m older, I tend to watch more Netflix and Hulu.
When you search the acronym ‘LGBT’ on Netflix, you’re met with a few things. One of those is movies like Below Her Mouth, Loving Annabelle, Alex Strangelove, and a few more. These movies are… okay. I’ve seen two out of three I just mentioned, but I have a few problems with these movies. My first issue is the way the LGBT community is portrayed in these films. If you’ve ever seen Below Her Mouth then you know how it’s not the greatest of films. It’s basically a lesbian porn with extra scenes before and after the sex scenes. I’m not going to lie, I’ve seen it, several times, but not for the story. The characters simply lack depth. Dallas, ‘the love interest’, is super underdeveloped and quite predatory. Jasmine, the main character, seems to be the same, in terms of development. And as a viewer, I don’t feel attached to any of the characters.
However, underdeveloped characters and lackluster plots seem to plague LGBT content. Even in TV shows, LGBT characters tend to be side characters that are just gay. They have no real back story, they don’t really serve a purpose other than to either die, or to be sexualized. Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing two ladies being in love on my screen, but do the gay characters really need to be diminished down to just their sexuality and relationships?
And keeping with that same theme, why are all the lesbians super fem, white women? I get it, fem white women like other fem white women, but what about representation. As a black, nonbinary person, I find it hard to see myself represented in films and TV shows. I have yet to see a black, gay, main character. I know Orange is The New Black features a lot of women of color and even a trans woman, but is that really all I get? One show?! Really?!
If that’s the case, I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands. I’ve decided to write the kind of stories that I would’ve liked to see when I was questioning my sexuality. As a person of color, who’s still somewhat unsure of their sexuality and gender, I want to create content that helps people like me. And at the same time, I want to let people know that it’s okay to not know. Life is constantly changing and we change along with it. So whether you’re a baby gay, a seasoned vet, or still questioning your sexually and identity, I hope that you’ll be able to find something on this site that speaks to you.
Thank you so much for visiting The Royal Blue Network. Consider giving the site a follow because I post new shorts every Tuesday and Friday.