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as a computer analysis he could be a cheap bastard at times. The women that kept looking over at our table as if they needed something other than IHOP to fill them up were still there, still looking, laughing and smiling the entire time. I laid down enough money to cover our bill and the tip, before I stood to my feet I tucked in my stomach as tight as I could, I mean I’m in great shape and all but after a mega breakfast from IHOP the pancakes tend to go straight to the gut and we hadn’t quite figured out which one of us had captivated the ladies attention, so I had to give my best. As we passed by the ladies tabled, before we got to far away one of them spoke up, “excuse me, excuse me is your name Spider” she said in a sentual voice. Spider looked over at her trying to scan his memory of one night stands, and out of town rendevous, but he did not know her he would have remembered her, she had a small frame, honey complexion, brownish red shoulder length hair and when she stood up to shake Spider’s hand her ass was big enough to carry the IHOP tray that brought out my mega breakfast. Spider shook her hand “yes my name is Spider, do I know you”, he said it all suave and devoneer he did that sometimes, thinking women found it sexy. I told him that they don’t run those old Billy Dee, Colt 45 commercials no more for a reason, its old and tired. He would always respond, what works for me, works for me. The mystery women reached for a business card from her wallet and handed the card to Spider, “you don’t know me but I have some information that you might be interested in”, she said softly as she sat back down to the table. The card was from the same law firm that Erica worked at, Spider looked dazzed and confussed, the mystery women touched his hand and said, “just call me”.


Chapter 5



I called Marcus and invited him over for dinner, we had been spending a lot of time together. It was nice to have someone to go places with. We attended plays, movies went to dinner on a regular and often met for lunch. He was unofficially my man, we had not signed any contracts or made any wedding plans, but this definitely felt like a honeymoon. I never asked Marcus to be exclusive with me. I never pressured him to stop seeing or talking to any of the women that he knew before or after me. I figured that sense it was his heart that I ultimately wanted then it should be given to me by choice not by force. With that being said that doesn’t mean that Marcus could have his cake and eat it to, if this relationship was technically non exclusive then he would not reap the full benefits of an exclusive relationship. Marcus had plenty of women that were willing to settle for sweaty pillow memories. I was going to make Marcus work for this, not by spending all his money but by occupying his time. If and when I decided to give Marcus my pleasure, he would deserve it. This was the first real meal I had prepared for Marcus, on the nights that I stayed over his house or he over mine he would get up and make me breakfast. I loved this quality in Marcus and watching him cook in nothing but his boxer shorts was a definite turn on. His frame was sturdy and chiseled to perfection. I would reach my arms around him, kiss him on his back and tell him good morning while he stood at the stove and made me scrambled cheese eggs. There was so much sexual tension between us, but night after night we talked until our words became gentle kisses, subtle exchanges showing the infinite possibilities that existed. We feel into a deep sleep while spooning, and throughout the night I would feel Marcus’ tension rising. “Take it Marcus, slide my panties to the side and insert yourself into my flesh”, that’s what I thought to myself, I never said it out loud or even gave him the impression that I was ready to be taken. Just were thoughts I had while I pretended to be sleep as Marcus fought off his animal instincts in every effort to be a gentleman.
Marcus arrived at my door with a dozen long stem pink roses and a bottle of champagne. He stood there in some grown man blue jeans, the ones that don’t hang down to the knees a striped button down shirt, a burgundy blazer and the scent of Issey Miyaki. We feel into a long lip lock in the doorway, we paused as he entered the house and sat the roses and the champagne on a nearby stand and we began our lip lock once again. “Is this my dinner”, he questioned in a joking manner, but I sensed his question yearned for an answer, either yea or nea at least that way he would know what type of night he would have. “This is your dessert , so don’t spoil your appetite” I replied and walked into the kitchen leaving his lips moist and full of desire. Not knowing if I was serious or not Marcus didn’t say anything else about it, I guess he thought if I was serious he didn’t want to seem to anxious and stuff his food in his mouth.
Dinner turned out great, “that was the best smothered pork chops I have ever tasted” Marcus said. I gave off a huge, uncontrollable grin, I admitted to Marcus that I was nervous about making him dinner, he had previously told me that his mother made him smothered pork chops when he would go home from college and that it was the best thing he had ever sunk his lips into. After dinner we decided to watch a movie, Marcus went over to my DVD collection and I poured us some champagne.


Chapter 6



It has now been 4 months since Charlene and I have been seeing each other. The reality of having a woman was beginning to set in. The cell phone that once offered a variety equal to the American melting pot we live in, had begun a steady decline, going from 30 to 40 calls a day to 20 to 15 then 10 to 5 and now about 3 to 4, 2 of which was my best friend or cousin. The other was my woman it had gotten to the point where I could adjust my cell phone plan, I mean I wasn’t using those peak minutes like I use to so why pay for them, there was only one woman that I asked “can you hear me now”. The holidays was even more of an indication that I had a woman, the past few years my holidays as a single man was spent going from one womans house to the next getting plates of food and some type of holiday joy. Charlene and I spent Thanksgiving together and here it was Christmas and she laid beside me in bed. My Queen was still sleeping this morning when I decided to wake up early and serve her breakfast in bed, since she feed me well last night. I had just gotten out of the shower, when she arrived at my door unannounced in nothing but a trench coat. She made her way through my door, pushed me to the couch were I was forced to take a seat. “Charlene, what are you doing,” I questioned. She went over to the television set which was set to the first show down between the Lakers and the Celtics since Pierce defeated Kobe in the 2008 Finals. She knew how much I love basketball, and she knew I couldn’t wait until this game came on, but she also knew how much I loved her, and that was one of those moments where a woman can show her true power over her man. She came back over to me as I sat on the couch wrapped in nothing but a towel, she removed her trench coat and slowly kneed down in front of me. Charlene proceeded to slide her hands up under my towel and as she squeezed, she asked, “Were you watching the game, Marcus?” Before I could answer, there was a warm that came over me as Charlene inserted my manhood into her mouth, the way a hand gently slips into a glove. Unlike the glove in the OJ trail, this one was a perfect fit. I watched Charlene as she took me inside her, slowly working the tip with her tongue, and letting those beautiful full lips expand to except every inch of me willingly. Her head rose up and down, while her hand softly massaged my balls. She proceeded to go from the tip down my entire shaft. I could tell this had filled her by the sounds that came from her throat, but she didn’t stop until she had taken me all in. At this point, the TV in the background was one big blurred image. Charlene’s mouth was wrapped around the tip of my manhood like she was speaking into a microphone, then she asked , “Who’s winning the game, baby?” And then as if she had been qued, she waited until I opened my eyes, attempting to focus on the score of the game and offer some kind of answer, she repeatedly slide her mouth up and down my shaft. I tried to man up and get the score out as best I could without my voice crackering. The—The—the the, Lakers , Charlene says, baby how many points does Kobe and Shaq have? UM, UM, UM, I couldn’t think clearly, I couldn’t see the stats on the screen, my vision was blurred. My woman was sucking the damn vision out of me. I reached for the remote, fumbling until I found the power button. “She asked, honey you don’t want to finish watching the game?” Completely out of breath, I was bearly able to utter, No No F-that game. I must admit I was thinking there would always be time to catch the sports center highlights. At this point, Charlene knew she had my undivided attention, and the way she was focusing on me, I could plainly see she was determined to finish this job. I watched her until my head purposely fell back, my legs grew stiff and the rest of my body was completed relaxed on the couch. Within moments it was obvious that she had completed what she started.
After Charlene and I ate, we were on our way to the mall to pick out outfits for the 3rd annual small business Christmas Ball. The Ball was a collaboration of several CEO’s of small local businesses that wanted a Christmas Ball equiventant to those given by the Big Fortune 500 companies. The event had become a who’s who of events, meaning if you wanted to be recognized through the year, you were in attendance at this event. You didn’t just show up wearing some bullshit, you had to step out dressed to impress. And if you came with a women, she had better be a dime. For the past two years, I strolled in solo. There were a few that came close to gaining a invite from me, there were even a couple that invited me at their date, but none of

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