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.
No comments:
Post a Comment