He sits at the table laughing with his agent. His agent is dressed in a fine black Italian suit with ash pinstripes that are hidden to the eye unless you closely inspect the garment. He on the other hand sits in a pair of denim shorts and a plain black tee shirt. Unimposing. Unimpressive. But everyone at the restaurant can’t take their eyes off of him. Throwing for over 4,500 yards and 40 touchdowns while running for another 10 tends to make you the center of attention no matter what room you’re in. He’s used to the stares. Their eyes radiate his skin. When he was younger he tried to avoid places where he could feel the stares until he realized the only places that occurred were at home and on the field. Home was too lonely and the field was limited to game days and practices. He takes a bite of his baked salmon while fake laughing at another of his agent’s jokes.
He sees her.
Her artificiality is intoxicating. Almost calling his name with a gentile whisper while her smile grabs his neck with a forceful tug. Perfect teeth with lush lips so enticing he can almost smell the mint of her lip gloss from where he sits. Long flowing jet black hair bouncing off her shoulders as she saunters to the bar pretending not to look at him. He knows she looked. They always look.
“The new shoe deal should be finished by training camp.” The comment snaps him back into work mode.
“I’ll let you do your job man just tell me how much and when I sign.”
“That’s why you’re the man. Alright I have another appointment to get to, but I’ll meet you later before your interview. You ready right?”
He hated interviews. He hated celebrity. He hated the “industry friends” longing for his real friends. He hated the “groupie love” searching for the true variety.
“You know I got it.” His agent leaves with a nod. Of course he’s got it. You don’t win 2 MVPs and a championship not knowing how to give an interview.
He takes a bite of his salmon with a few grains of brown rice when his attention is stolen by a kid with a napkin and pen. He signs the autograph and poses for a cell phone picture when he notices she’s looking at him. They always look.
He had to admit that despite all the effort she put into looking like it was effortless she was breathtaking. She had a style definitely worthy of praise, envy, or lust depending on who was observing at the time. She was a beautiful lie. Everything you want your soul mate to look like only it wasn’t hers. Clothing she may have purchased herself but with the hard glare she’s giving, another brotha probably spent the money necessary for her to look as stunning as she did. Korean nails, weave done by the Africans, grade A silicone, and pampered cheek bones she knew exactly what to buy.
He poses for another picture with an older couple before he drops some cash on the table and makes his way to the exit. He walks slowly anticipating his name being called from behind. Instead he feels a soft hand with manicured fingernails on his shoulder.
“So you were leaving without speaking?”
“Didn’t realize I needed to.”
“You didn’t notice me noticing you from across the room?”
“I did, but you’re so dolled up I figured you were waiting on your man.”
“You could be him if you want to be.”
He can’t deny that he recognizes how beautiful she is which has to be a sign of her success. Success in fooling the intelligent. Seducing the seducer. He never wants to meet the real her, and he’s pretty sure she never wants to meet the real him. Her stuff makes her feel good. Her…her…plastic. Her plastic makes her feel successful, and how that plastic makes her feel makes him know he can have her. Any time. Any place.
He takes her hand and walks her to his Maybach parked outside. The driver opens the door and the two of them slip into the back seat as the driver shuts the door and stands outside.
She immediately tugs at his belt buckle and in moments his shorts sit at his ankles. She greedily devours his cock with strong jaws and a firm hand. He leans back in the spacious seat and enjoys watching his penis disappear into the back of her head only to reappear glistening from her warm wet mouth. She rolls her tongue around the head while stroking the shaft with loose fingers and whispers “I’m sorry I’m kind of selfish” as she pulls up her skirt and slowly eases her wet pussy down his long cock. She moves with a grace that he didn’t imagine her having. Slowly swaying her hips while her torso seems to remain motionless she closes her eyes and begins to sing to herself. Some incoherent song that seems to be meant solely for her enjoyment. The occasional moan peppered in with mumbled song lyrics heighten his arousal. He grabs her hips and begins to match her rhythm. He can feel her wetness drip between his legs. He can feel her pussy hug and release his penis as she rises just to the tip before allowing her pussy to devour the rest of his erection. She looks in his eyes and whispers “you really are the MVP can I take a picture with you?”
“Excuse me, but can I take a picture with you sir? I’m sorry to interrupt your meal but I mean your season was remarkable and we came so close to the championship again. I just want one picture with you.”
“No problem.” He stands to pose for the fan and drops a few bills on the table to cover his meal. He reaches the car and as his driver opens the door he feels that manicured hand on his shoulder.
“Hi I just wanted to come and say I’m a huge fan.”
“Thank you.”
“I was wondering if maybe we could meet for drinks or something one day?”
He looks at her smile. She is a success. He could have her just like he dreamed. He could make everything in his imagination happen if he wanted to. If he wanted to.
“I’ll take your number and give you a call when I get back in town.” She gives him a business card and smiles telling him to call her. He slides into the back seat as the driver shuts the door. He looks at the card hoping for a business name that isn’t to be found. Just a name and a phone number. He catches the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror as he sits down.
“Any potential sir?”
He looks back at the card and shakes his head before reaching forward to hand the card to the driver.
“Naw just more plastic. Add it to the collection” as the driver pulls away and tosses the card out the window.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Sweat
She stares at the thermostat with disgust. Cold water and sweat glistens on her honey brown skin as she sashays over to her bedroom window sliding the painted white lock causing the painted seal to crack. She wipes her brow with the back of her hand while reaching for the handle with the other. She gives the window a firm tug causing the white towel wrapped around her body to slip to the floor. She ignores her exposure since the frustration of the painted shut window grips her. It’s hot. It’s too damn hot.
The maintenance man was supposed to fix the air conditioning a week ago, but all the damn thing does is hum annoyingly loud while breathing its warm breath on an already scorching apartment. She curses at the window catching a glimpse of her exposed curves in the window’s reflection. She stares at the city from her 13th floor window thinking of the life she puts up with to one day call herself an attorney. Small one bedroom apartment. Barely enough money to even qualify as a poor college student. In a new city that stays hotter than hell. But worst of all a new city without him. She thinks of him and spews another obscenity at the window again.
She yanks open the dresser drawer grabbing a long tank top out and wrestles it over her body that now glistens with more sweat than cold water. Her damp footprints along the hardwood floor seem to evaporate immediately leading from the bedroom to the tiny open living space. She pulls open the patio doors before slamming the tall oscillating fan in front of the door. She plops down on the couch rolling her head on the cheap imitation leather while attempting to wipe away the sweat with the bottom of her shirt. She glares at the fan with disdain as it elicits only a slight cool in the simmering apartment. Cursing as she stomps to the refrigerator she’s forced to pause to look at his picture. Damn he’s sexy. Why isn’t he here? Why couldn’t he come? She yanks open the freezer door to grab the ice tray, slides over to the counter to grab a glass, drops a few cubes in, and fills it up with water. She shuts the freezer door catching one last glance at his picture.
He’s always done something to her. Even hundreds of miles away he still makes her hotter than even this bastard of a heat wave. She carries the remaining ice and glass of water back to her spot on the couch in front of the fan. She takes a sip of the water and feels the cool liquid course through her body. She grabs a cube of ice and slides it across her neck letting it transform into cool liquid dripping down her skin decreasing her body temperature. With air from the fan hitting the liquid, she closes her eyes as her nipples stiffen and she sits the glass down. Her mind returns to him.
She adjusts her leg on the couch and dreams he is guiding the ice across her body. Along her neck he places wet kisses as his tongue coolly drips down her collar bone. His hand slides up her calf and comes to rest on her knee as she gasps from his cold wet tongue trickling under her shirt onto her nipple. He moves the ice slowly from her neck just below her collar to her shoulder while creeping his hand up her thigh to the only part of her not moistened by the sun or the ice. He takes the melting cube and drips the cool liquid on her chest before placing it gently on her lips with a cool kiss sliding onto her tongue. He takes another cube from the tray and slides it up her other thigh while taking his hand tracing the lips of her shaven pleasure point. She moans at his slight touch arching her back in anticipation of his firm deliberate strokes. As she bites her lip he moves the ice cube to her face and gently places a finger inside her warm wet pussy before sliding it out rubbing her slippery nub. Her hips sway at his touch as the heat she feels is no longer external. He paints her pussy with his fingertips responding to her every moan with a slighter touch every groan with a firmer stroke every gasp with another cool wet kiss on her lips. His strokes become faster, stronger, lighter, firmer. She can feel the hot rush of excitement filling her body as she grinds along his fingers biting her lip in attempt to mute her pleasure as she releases a wave of heat and frustration. She opens her eyes to an empty room, an iceless ice tray, and a water glass sitting in a pool of condensation as her mind returns to him.
Damn he should be here.
The maintenance man was supposed to fix the air conditioning a week ago, but all the damn thing does is hum annoyingly loud while breathing its warm breath on an already scorching apartment. She curses at the window catching a glimpse of her exposed curves in the window’s reflection. She stares at the city from her 13th floor window thinking of the life she puts up with to one day call herself an attorney. Small one bedroom apartment. Barely enough money to even qualify as a poor college student. In a new city that stays hotter than hell. But worst of all a new city without him. She thinks of him and spews another obscenity at the window again.
She yanks open the dresser drawer grabbing a long tank top out and wrestles it over her body that now glistens with more sweat than cold water. Her damp footprints along the hardwood floor seem to evaporate immediately leading from the bedroom to the tiny open living space. She pulls open the patio doors before slamming the tall oscillating fan in front of the door. She plops down on the couch rolling her head on the cheap imitation leather while attempting to wipe away the sweat with the bottom of her shirt. She glares at the fan with disdain as it elicits only a slight cool in the simmering apartment. Cursing as she stomps to the refrigerator she’s forced to pause to look at his picture. Damn he’s sexy. Why isn’t he here? Why couldn’t he come? She yanks open the freezer door to grab the ice tray, slides over to the counter to grab a glass, drops a few cubes in, and fills it up with water. She shuts the freezer door catching one last glance at his picture.
He’s always done something to her. Even hundreds of miles away he still makes her hotter than even this bastard of a heat wave. She carries the remaining ice and glass of water back to her spot on the couch in front of the fan. She takes a sip of the water and feels the cool liquid course through her body. She grabs a cube of ice and slides it across her neck letting it transform into cool liquid dripping down her skin decreasing her body temperature. With air from the fan hitting the liquid, she closes her eyes as her nipples stiffen and she sits the glass down. Her mind returns to him.
She adjusts her leg on the couch and dreams he is guiding the ice across her body. Along her neck he places wet kisses as his tongue coolly drips down her collar bone. His hand slides up her calf and comes to rest on her knee as she gasps from his cold wet tongue trickling under her shirt onto her nipple. He moves the ice slowly from her neck just below her collar to her shoulder while creeping his hand up her thigh to the only part of her not moistened by the sun or the ice. He takes the melting cube and drips the cool liquid on her chest before placing it gently on her lips with a cool kiss sliding onto her tongue. He takes another cube from the tray and slides it up her other thigh while taking his hand tracing the lips of her shaven pleasure point. She moans at his slight touch arching her back in anticipation of his firm deliberate strokes. As she bites her lip he moves the ice cube to her face and gently places a finger inside her warm wet pussy before sliding it out rubbing her slippery nub. Her hips sway at his touch as the heat she feels is no longer external. He paints her pussy with his fingertips responding to her every moan with a slighter touch every groan with a firmer stroke every gasp with another cool wet kiss on her lips. His strokes become faster, stronger, lighter, firmer. She can feel the hot rush of excitement filling her body as she grinds along his fingers biting her lip in attempt to mute her pleasure as she releases a wave of heat and frustration. She opens her eyes to an empty room, an iceless ice tray, and a water glass sitting in a pool of condensation as her mind returns to him.
Damn he should be here.
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