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“No, George hasn’t done anything. It’s just not working out for me.”

“How so? Give me two good reasons why not.”

Without exposing Keith’s wishes, what else can I say? I lie. “Well, it’s just that during the day, I feel trapped at work without transportation. Like yesterday, I could have gone to the post office to update my passport, but I couldn’t ’cause I didn’t have my car.”

“All you had to do was mention it and I would’ve taken you.”

“That’s the point. I don’t want to have to ask you or anybody else. I just want to get in my ride and go.”

“I’m not buying this, Connie. It’s gotta be something else. Is this about my wife? ’Cause—”

“No. It’s not about your wife. It’s about me and what I need.” Well, actually what Keith needs but I can’t say that. “Are you feeling guilty about your wife? Is that why you ask?” I try to flip the script and turn the attention to him.

“No. Hell no. I want to be around you as much as possible and don’t want you to pull back because of my wife. I explained where she and I stand to you, and I hope you believe me.”

“Yeah, but what I don’t get is, why do you stay?”

“Let’s not dwell on that. What I care about right here, right now, is you. So tell me the truth. Why don’t you want to carpool with me anymore?”

Umph, the truth, the truth is what I get from Keith even when it’s brutal. I don’t think Bishop is a truthful person, but he sure is hellasexy. Do I care about his honesty? Not really, his sex is what I’m after.

“Well, Bishop, the truth of the matter is, I’m not comfortable in this situation with you.”

His perplexed expression indicates he’s totally confused. So, I continue, “I don’t think we should see each other anymore.” I lean forward just a little to let my 36DDs put an exclamation mark on my statement.

“Stop playin,’ Connie. You know we are equally yoked.”

“Maybe I don’t want an equal. Maybe I want an opposite.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Maybe I don’t want a corporate eagle like myself. Maybe I just want an educated roughneck.”

“Oh, I see where this is going. Some other nigga is tappin’ that ass, or you want to start seeing somebody else, huh?”

“Bishop, time out. I don’t need your permission for nothing and I don’t have to tell you shit. We don’t have any strings attached.”

“Fuck that, Connie. What hoodlum nigga are you sleeping with?”

He catches me off guard with his jealousy but I’m quick to reply, “Hoodlum? Who said I’m sleeping with a hoodlum? Besides, just because a brother can be thuggy doesn’t mean he’s stupid or insensitive. I know brothers who have just as much as you, and some who have more, and their ass didn’t have to go to West Point to get it.”

“Those street mothafuckas can’t touch me. And that’s what you want, huh? A thug.”

“I didn’t say that.”

Suddenly, somehow, we get into a heated discussion about our so-called relationship. I call it a “fuckship.” For the first time, I witness Bishop’s temper.

“Shit! The very time I find someone I want to be close with who is my equal sexual partner, you want to stop seeing me for a thug. Ain’t that some shit.”

“He’s not a thug,” I retort.

“That might be so, but can he make you feel like this?”

Bishop suddenly dips his tongue into my mouth and grabs my breasts. He then reclines my seat to the level with the rear ones that are already folded down. He runs his hands under my dress and discovers my bare ass and pussy. He breathes heavily in my ear, “Damn, you’re so fine. I know you still want me because you wouldn’t offer yourself to me like this if you didn’t.”

I say nothing and kiss him back with the same degree of passion his tongue demands from my mouth. He pulls apart the bow that keeps my wraparound dress together, exposing my mostly naked body. He reaches down and unsnaps my bra, then tosses it aside.

“Yeah, now that’s what I’m talkin’ about.” He views my entire naked body, and then engulfs my breasts and I’m turned on even more.

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