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I find myself nodding and smiling wide. “Sure,” I agree, my curiosity piqued. I give her my phone number, and she promises to call me tomorrow afternoon to decide where to go for the night.
She gives me a quick kiss close to my mouth and leaves, turning back once to shoot me a smile before she disappears into the next aisle.
I stand there, slightly awed by her beauty, then glance at my watch. “Shit!” I exclaim, startling myself and a teenage boy walking by, almost dropping his frozen pizzas. I have to get back to my apartment soon or I will never have a chance to shower before heading to Jack’s for football.
The bored-looking cashier doesn’t say a word to me, even when I say hi to be polite. He looks me up and down lewdly, his gaze halting on my small breasts, which today are without bra, slightly obvious with the intense air conditioning in the store. My hard nipples strain against my old Giants shirt– long shrunken and revealing a bit of my torso. I pretend not to notice his stare and the twinkle in his eye while he starts passing the codes on my food over the scanner.
“Eighty-five fifty,” he says with a lascivious smile. I pass him my credit card and ignore him again until he thrusts a pen in my direction to sign the receipt.
I almost run out of there to avoid prolonging the awkwardness. Overloaded with groceries and balancing a case of beer precariously on my shoulder, I try to get into the cab that stops like magic right in front of me on the sidewalk. This never happens, I think, piling into the backseat with my groceries and giving the cabbie my address. Maybe it’s my lucky day.
As I try to edge my way into the front doors of my apartment building with the mother lode of plastic-covered clothes, food and the beer, I manage to smash both of my elbows into each side of the doorway. So much for luck, I think, cursing freely. I process my keycard and open the door with my pinky finger– way stronger than people give credit for. The elevator ships me up to my floor and I trudge down the hall. It takes three attempts before I can get my key in the lock, stubbornly refusing to put anything down. I press down on the knob and almost stumble over the threshold, gently unloading my cumbersome bundles on the floor, and I sigh with relief. I kick aside a pair of Denise’s shoes, marveling that my spic-and-span roommate actually left something out of place.
First things first, I think, before my shower, I need a nice, cold beverage. I take two steps toward the kitchen before I hear the sounds.
I pause, trying to decipher what it is. A whimper? Where is it coming from? There it is again! It becomes clear– it’s a moan, and it’s female, coming from the kitchen…
Dying of curiosity, I quietly advance to the open kitchen area and peek around the wall. And lose my composure, going slack-jawed.
I spy our kitchen table. On it, Denise’s sits with her back to me, her long black hair flowing loose between her shoulders. Her knees are bent, with her feet propped up at the edge. That’s all I see… until I realize Carter, Denise’s current man, is kneeling on the floor in front of her, his erection sprung to life– and what a life.
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