Months flew by and I was at the point of graduating, thereby receiving my Master’s degree in sexology. I was finally at the cusp where all my planning, sacrifices, and remodeling, assured me it was time to let Troy know I existed. I had a new face, shape, and attitude, accompanied by a hot walk which commanded attention. In being boastful, there wasn’t a male in the Atlanta area who saw me that didn’t want a chance to get with me. With my sexual education nearing completion, the only new characters I ever planned on sharing my sexual talents on were ones who could help with Troy’s career advancement.
There was a party taking place at the law firm of Watts and Watts, started over 30 years earlier by Johnny and his father, in which clients, staff, court personnel, and community leaders were invited to attend. Johnny begged me to consider going to the affair after a late-night session in which I battered his buns a nice shade of crimson. I had no intention of being in the midst of a bunch of old men well past their prime. That is, until he acknowledged the attorney I recommended would be present.
It took me two days to find the right outfit to wear and another to locate matching shoes. Amy volunteered to style my hair for the occasion, only after I promised to show her a photo of Troy. In front of the mirror, I practice what I might say to him once we were face to face. Subconsciously, I should have known I’d probably lose the ability to speak or worse, begin to stutter again. I needed to get past that moment or I’d wind up stuck with Joe or maybe some other second place loser. No, nothing was wrong with Hot Boi, not in bed anyway, but he was definitely no Troy.
A week prior to the party, Mr. Grigsby phoned asking me to meet him at the smaller home on Sherwood Forest Boulevard. I halted my nightly coin rummage to rush to my apartment for a quick shower and a change of clothing. That’s if putting on a thigh length robe could be considered clothes. My body was beginning to heat up, thinking about Jeremy’s thick dealmaker, and the exact place I wanted him to insert it. The air conditioner in the Escort was too weak to dissipate the steam my coochie emitted, which left my knees unstable as I entered the house. I fully expected him to be naked while stroking his third leg.
That's not what happened at all. Jeremy was laid-back in the recliner, fully dressed, while watching reruns of The Jeffersons. He looked up, saw I’d arrived, and motioned me over.
“You get better looking every time I see you,” he complimented. “Have a seat.”
I sat on the arm of his lazy boy. When I did, my robe hiked upward. His eyes did not let a single pore of my flesh go unnoticed. Upon seeing him stare, I opened the garment, letting it slip from my shoulders.
“Ro stop, you don’t have to - to… I won’t hold you to our agreement. You’ve done more for me then you realize.”
Huh? What the hell was he saying? If I hadn’t wiped away the honey dripping from my hotbox before entering the home, I’d have left a wet and sticky trail. No was not part of the equation. I straddled the recliner, facing him, giving him a grand view of my birthday suit.
“Then let’s negotiate a new arrangement.”
“Ro please put your clothes back on. This isn’t necessary. You will still receive the stores as promised,” he said with his mouth, yet the bulge in his pants was shouting something quite different.
“But Jeremy,” I purred, placing my hand on the growing problem rising inside his trousers. “I’ve been dreaming of this since you made your promise. Please don’t dash my dreams.”
Firmly grasping the creature seeking freedom, we kissed. His hands traveled all over my body. He was trying to get me in the mood, bless his heart, but I was so far past the need of foreplay, I almost screamed for him to take me. Once I freed his prisoner from the material confinement, I lay on the carpet and practically begged him to show me how dumb Leona was for letting him get away. I’d experienced the man’s quick trigger already, but he more than proved he wasn’t quick on the draw when sober. He gave me more than I thought any older man could. Not only did he set up resident inside me for over an hour, he completely satisfied every need my body craved. At no time did Jeremy stop his alternating short or long strokes. When he maneuvered us to where I was on top, I lost it over and over again. Before he left, I got him to promise as many repeats as he wanted until he found someone to share his life with or I got paired with Troy.
On my way home, I stopped to purchase some ice cream at the all night drugstore and ran into Chris. He was there picking up his mother’s prescriptions. While we talked, there was no way he could hide the hunger his eyes showed in taking in my body. They betrayed his inability in attempting to bend his vision to peep under my robe.
“What’s up Ro? Damn girl, you looking straight tonight.”
“Thanks. Where’s Amy?”
“She’s at home with the kids. Her mom had to go to Mississippi for a bowling tournament. And yo boy Joe is working the night shift with his uncle at the truck stop. So, what ya say we watch a little TV together tonight?”
“I don’t have a problem with it, but you know our jealous friends.”
“Forget them,” he said, grabbing his crotch. “It’s what we want, right? Besides aren’t you the one who’s always saying Joe and you are just friends?”
Any other night I might have entertained the thought, but Mr. Grigsby had physically worn me out. I knew what Chris wanted to do; however, there was no doubt I wouldn’t be on top of my game, so I needed to pass. I must have taken too long to respond, because he tried to persuade me to agree with his suggestion.
“I bet I could make you feel real good tonight,” he whispered in my ear, while positioning himself directly behind me.
“Tempting as it sounds I need to get some sleep. I’ve got a long day of work starting early in the morning.”
I hate to admit it but his hot breath, breathing across my ear lobe, along with him grinding his pelvis against my rear was having an effect on me.
“Come on Ro, you can’t eat that whole tub of ice cream by yourself. Let me help you,” he suggested gyrating lewdly into me. Then he almost knocked me to the floor. Not with his body, but with his words. “Amy won’t mind. In fact I’m sure she’d love to join us. She told me how wet you got from watching us at your place the night you met Hot Boi.”
“Thanks Amy,” I thought, yet before I could respond, he let his hand slide down one side of my body, stopping as it reached the bottom of the robe. His open palm was pressed flat against my inner thigh as it began its upward journey toward my recently trespassed garden. I tried to move before his fingers made contact, yet his experienced hand must have expected my reserve and quickly closed in on its target.
“Damn, you are already ready, ain’t ya? You’re hotter than a hot comb sitting on a stove burner. Let’s go to your place.”
I couldn’t believe what was taking place. Chris had two digits inserted, and my body was suddenly in need again. I mentally begged for a divine intervention. Now, I’m not the most religious person, but help arrived instantly. The store’s intercom hailed Chris to the pharmacy counter to pick up his mother’s medication. The moment he went to retrieve the medicine, I zipped out of the store. Arriving at my smaller house, I thanked God that Chris or anyone else knew about its existence. The ice cream I left melting on the store shelf would have been nice, but some sleep would have to suffice.