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“See you around, Connie Winslow.”
“Definitely.”
He winks at me and exits the elevator. I watch his tight athletic ass walk away as my pussy starts to quiver with lustful desire. I look at the man in the corner shaking his head. “Whew, you young folks are something else. You’re new here, right?”
“Yes.” I can’t believe he’s admitting to listening to Bishop’s and my conversation.
“Be careful, young lady. Everything ain’t what it seems.”
“Such as?” I ask, curious of the man’s statement and irritated he blows my Bishop high.
“Know who you’re dealing with.”
“Thank you, but I already do. What are you, my conscience?” I act like I know what I’m talking about ’cause I don’t want the man to know that his comment alarms me. He doesn’t reply so I grin and return to watching the red numbers countdown to the lobby. I tell the man to have a good evening and exit the elevator with my head held high and shoulders squared.
I hope rush-hour traffic is light today ’cause I can use one of Keith’s body massages right about now. He has great hands. If only he had the dick to match, what fun I could have.
Damn, my cell phone is always ringing when I got too much shit in my hands to answer it quickly. Uggh, how annoying, I’ve got to change this Bach ring tone to something funkier.
“Keith? Hold on. I’m putting my laptop and briefcase in the car.” He patiently waits as I place my stuff in the backseat. “Sorry for the wait. What’s up?”
“I want your naked, brown body next to me, that’s what’s up. How much longer will it take you to get home?”
“Looking at the traffic, at least an hour and a half.”
“Damn, girl, my pipe is gonna burst by then.”
“No, it’s gonna burst right now. Listen to me. Take your pants off and walk to the kitchen.”
“Word.”
“Now get some olive oil out of the pantry.”
“Got it.”
“Sit on the sofa and put a few drops on the head of your dick.”
“Done.”
“Now lie back, close your eyes, stroke your meat, and imagine me straddling your cock.”
“Ah, baby, you’re so good to me. I needed this. But I’ll still be waiting for you to get here.”
I listen to Keith jerk-off. The sound of his ecstasy excites me; I can’t wait to see him.
***
Shit! After driving through all that damn traffic, getting home in record time for a body massage and some sex, Keith didn’t touch the bottom of me again, and no damn pearly shower! I roll onto my side with my back facing him, look out of the bedroom window and think, Keith’s small Johnson has got to go. He peeps over and looks at my dead stare while I wonder how in the hell do I continue to deal with this situation.
“Baby, what are you thinking about?”
I want to say “Bishop,” but I don’t dare. “I’m thinking about Quincy’s BBQ that we’re going to on Saturday and I don’t have a thing to wear.”
“Is that all?”
I watch him reach into his wallet on the nightstand. “Here’s seven hundred dollars. Treat yourself to something nice.”
“Thanks, Keith. That’s so sweet of you.” I don’t mean that shit. I’m frustrated and just want compensation for a year of this neglect. I sure hope I run into Bishop on the elevator again tomorrow.
