by Day, Desiree
Just then she heard Kelsey’s laugh. “Oooh!” She looked and saw her two-year-old daughter jetting down the aisle leaving behind a wake of laughing adults. Barrett held up her hand, the one that was gripping the harness’ strap, it was bare. “It must’ve slipped off when I picked up T.J.” She quickly returned T.J. to his carrier.
She wanted to cry. At least once a week she argued cases in front of judges, other lawyers and juries, but none of them ever came close to making her want to whimper and roll up into a little ball to escape it all, like her daughter did.
“Come back here!” Barrett roared. “This is why I use the harness!” she yelled as she raced after her daughter while pushing the shopping cart. Shoppers jumped out of her way and a couple good hearted ones really did try to catch her daughter, but Kelsey wiggled out of their grasps as though she was covered in baby oil. For a two-year-old she had feet like roller skates, she zoomed along the aisles, squealing loudly. “Kelsey come back here!”
But having her mother chase her while yelling, made Kelsey think they were playing a game, so she ran even faster. She turned the corner and out of Barrett’s sight, a wave of despair washed over her. Adrenaline propelled her forward, she rounded the corner, narrowly missing a Pepsi display.
“Is this what you’re looking for?” A familiar lady was holding her wiggling daughter.
Barrett skidded to a stop. “Sage?” she croaked.
Saturday Love - $.99
Drew Atkins logged into her profile on www.ineedaman.com. She grinned when she saw the number of messages waiting to be read. Thirty. She already knew that more than eighty percent of them were either from sixty-year-old men, married men or men so disgusting looking that they made her ill. Ten percent was usually bi-curious women, she wasn’t ready to go that route yet and the remaining ten percent were actual possibilities.
And for the last six months she had been dating those possibilities. After a few dates or for some it took only one date for the maybes to become actually nos. She liked the system she devised. Round one started off with coffee. Only a few moved on to dinner, round two. And only a lucky man made it to round three, dinner and sex. That had been Darius. He had sexed her and kept a smile on her face for a whole month. They were inseparable, that was until his wife showed up at her house threatening bodily harm.
The pickings of men in her hometown were slim, and unfortunately a lot of them had the personality of a bull toad. Drew quickly scanned an e-mail. This sounds interesting, she thought. She returned to the beginning and slowly reread the message, it had piqued her interest. He had called himself Blkman1972, he liked jazz music, went to church regularly, drank socially, never married and no kids. She crossed her fingers before clicking on the link to his photo. By now she had downgraded her look requirements from drop dead gorgeous to presentable. “Please be decent looking.” Her excitement dimmed when she saw his picture, her heart sank. The picture was dated, at least fifteen-years-old, she decided after looking at the hair style and clothing.
She knew then that he was probably another older guy looking for a young piece of ass. She wasn’t looking for a Sugar Daddy, she deleted the message.
Drew occasionally peeked over her shoulder; keeping an eye out for, Mr. Tumblesome, her supervisor.
She took a bite of her donut and washed it down with some coffee, then moved on to her guilty pleasure, the Craigslist’s, Missed Connection, section. She chuckled softly to herself while scrolling through the messages, occasionally opening up messages with snappy headlines that caught her attention.
Suddenly she let out a little yelp and her best friend, Taylor, glanced up from her computer. "What's going on?" Taylor asked.
"I'm a missed connection," Drew answered excitedly. “Finally, I’m a missed connection!”
Taylor shot up from her desk and hurried over to her friend's cube. "Really?" She knew that her friend read Craigslist religiously, sometimes up to five times a day.
Drew re-read the message for the fourth time. You: sexy, statuesque, Black lady, wearing denim shorts, men's suit jacket, pink camisole, a straw fedora and four-inch sandals. Your tits were jiggling with every step. You were strutting through the Target parking lot yesterday. You looked so hot!
Me: A twenty-five-year-old White man, with blond hair and green eyes. I'm six feet three, I work out a lot, I have a killer body, and the best thing is that I'm nine inches long. Please email me at [email protected].
"OhmyGod! Should I e-mail him?"
"You have to. He sounds so cute."
Drew paused, then: "I don't know."
"Well, why do you spend so much time reading this?"
Drew shrugged. “For shits and giggles.”
“Yeah right. I think you’re doing it because you were hoping someone would write about you and now they did and you’re scared.”
“Am not!” Drew protested.
“Yeah you are.”
“You’re right,” Drew said then giggled. “But I never thought it would happen,” she sheepishly admitted.
“Well it did. Now you have to do something about it.”
“I don’t know.”
Taylor nudged her friend. “Move.”
“What are you doing?” A startled Drew asked.
“Moving you out of the way so that I can respond to this man.”
Drew pushed her friend away, their co-workers eyed them curiously. “Behave yourself,” Drew hissed. “I’ll do it.”
Taylor and Drew had a stare down. Drew won when Taylor reluctantly averted her gaze and she smirked when Taylor pulled a chair over and settled next to her friend. “So what are you going to say?”
Drew shrugged and bit her bottom lip. “I don’t know.” Drew had already started a new e-mail and put Hello in the subject line. “This is all I have.” She nodded at her monitor.
“Ask him for a picture.”
Drew grinned. “That’s a good idea. He knows what I look like. It’s only fair that I know the same. This will get us on an even playing field.” She typed in her request then hit the send button. “Well I did it.”
They stared at the screen as though willing a response. “I don’t think it’s going to come any faster if we keep staring at the screen.”
“I guess I’d better get back to work.” Just as Taylor was pushing herself up from her chair, a new e-mail came in. “This is it!” she screamed excitedly. “He sent a picture. Click on it!”
Drew clicked the attachment and a hairless sun kissed torso filled her screen. Speechless she stared at the image, then she reached up and ran her hand over her computer monitor. He had flexed when he had taken the picture, as his pecs were lifted and she counted four rows of muscles in his stomach.
Taylor pointed to Drew’s monitor. “Wow! Look there’s another one.”
“Oh God, I don’t know if I can take another picture, I’m still recovering from the first one.” With shaky hands, Drew clicked on the message. And this time an ass filled the screen. “Oh my,” she breathed. She dared a furtive glance over her shoulder. Everyone was still working and hadn’t looked in their direction. “It’s perfect,” she said while imagining licking it and biting it softly. “It’s hairless, smooth and so taut.”
Fortunately, Drew and Taylor were such good friends that Drew felt comfortable enough to be so free with her, they were as close as sisters.
Send me another one, Drew silently begged. Her wish was answered when a dick, the size of a medium size banana, filled the screen.
“Oh my.” Drew pressed her legs together, her pussy began to throb. “I want to taste him, I want to swallow him and I want him to fuck me,” she whispered. She shoved the thought of going to the bathroom and masturbating to relieve herself out of her head. “I wonder what he looks like.”
“Ask him to send a head shot.”
“I don’t know, I don’t want to end the fantasy.”
“It’s better to learn the truth now instead of five phone sex calls later,” Taylor said reaso
nably.
“You’re right. I’ll ask him.” Drew immediately sent another e-mail. She crossed her fingers and nervously waited. “Come on, come on.”
Three minutes later she got the e-mail. She instinctually reached out then hesitated, she looked at her friend. “I’m scared.”
“Do it or I will!” Taylor ordered.
“Okay.” Drew took a couple deep breaths, her stomach rolled. She clicked on it. Blond hair filled the screen.
“Looking good,” Taylor encouraged. “Scroll down.”
Next came a set of well-maintained eyebrows.
“I’m liking it so far. Would you pick up the pace, I’ll be an old lady by the time you finish.”
“Relax, relax, I’ll do it.” Sexy green eyes stared back at her, she scrolled down to take in the whole face. “He cannot be real,” Drew whispered. “He can’t be.” She could’ve sworn she was looking at a model. Drew noticed that he had included his name and phone number. “He’s so gorgeous. Why would someone who looks like him want to date me?” she muttered.
Taylor wanted to slap her friend, sometimes she barely had enough self-esteem to fill a shot glass. “You’re gorgeous. Men are always trying to talk to you.”
“Yeah,” Drew acknowledged, “but none who looks like him. Look at him, he looks like a model for Abercrombie and Fitch. He is fine…but maybe that isn’t him, maybe this is someone else’s picture.”
“Damn, I hope not, I would hate it if this wasn’t him. I’d die if he’s really some sixty-year-old bald man with a big stomach and a big droopy dick. Come on let’s call him, to see if the voice matches the picture,” Taylor suggested.
“Nu uh, I’ll call him by myself. I don’t need you listening in. I’ll do it tonight, when I get home,” Drew decided.
“No do it now, obviously he isn’t doing anything right now, except for sending you naked pictures of himself.”
“I don’t know, we really should get back to work,” Drew stalled.
“Yeah right! You really want to work? Or do you want to set up a fuck date.”
Drew looked at her friend, her eyes wide with optimism. “Maybe he’s looking for something substantial, maybe he wants a relationship.”
Taylor snorted. “Yeah, that’s why he’s sending pictures of that fabulous dick of his. And if I remember you haven’t seen one in quite a while, so…” she nodded towards the exit. “Go call him!”
Drew peeked over her shoulder. Her boss was nowhere in sight. “Okay. I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Whatever,” Taylor answered breezily.
Drew quickly entered Braxton’s number into her phone. She hurried through the office and out the door. The hot July sun greeted her when she pushed the door open, she blinked against the brightness. She strolled over to one of the small bistros that were scattered around the small park like setting.
She glanced up at the building to see if Taylor was peeking down on her, she wasn’t. She called him, her heart thudding.
“Hello?” Drew remained quiet. “Hello?”
Drew cleared her throat. “Braxton?”
“Yes.”
“Hi this is Drew. The lady you’ve been e-mailing pictures to.”
Braxton chuckled softly. “Did you enjoy them?”
“I did. Is that really you?”
“Yep! One hundred percent.”
Thank you Jesus. “So why do you want to meet me?”
Braxton smiled, although Drew couldn’t see it, she could hear it in his voice. “Because you’re beautiful, because you took my breath away, because I want to fuck you.”
His response was so unexpected, so raw, that it stunned her. Drew dropped her head in her hands. “You want to fuck me?” she squeaked, no man had ever been so brazen with her before, she liked it.
“I want to fuck you until you beg me to stop. And I will,” he promised.
Hunger flashed in her and jettison to her clit. Drew flushed hot. “What would you do to me?” she whispered, not believing what she just asked, not believing that she was engaging in phone sex right in front of the building where she should be working.
“First I’d smother my face in your beautiful titties, then I’d lick them softly, until you moan in my ear.”
“Then what?” Drew asked, her voice shaking and her pussy throbbing. Her hand inched up her leg towards her mound, she shot a furtive glance toward the building.
Braxton laughed. “Am I getting you excited?”
“A little,” Drew answered, shyly, not really wanting to admit how hot he was making her.
“Are your panties wet?”
“Yes.”
“I want to smell you then taste you.”
“I want you to.”
“Good.”
“Is that really you in the picture?” Drew asked again, she had to be sure.
“Yes. So when are we going to meet?”
The Committee - $.99
He studied the five spirits floating before Him. They shimmered and glowed softly. Lighter than a whisper they were translucent, He could look right through them if He chose to, instead His gaze pierced each one. And they beamed at Him basking in His love and attention.
“You know why you’re here don’t you?” He asked, His tone pleasant and lyrical. Not the earth shattering voice most people thought He always used. He only got loud when upset.
They all nodded.
“It’s time for my daily nap, and you five have been selected to serve on The Committee.”
The group didn’t know whether to pump their fists in the air, give shouts of excitement or quake with fear. None of them knew the etiquette of earning such a coveted spot on The Committee so they reverently eyed Him, waiting for His next words.
“Michael had given each of you profiles on two of my children that I would like you all to keep an eye on while I’m asleep.”
Clay Peterson raised his hand. He used to be a garbage man, thirty years of his life had been spent picking up strangers’ trash. His job had given him an exclusive insight into human nature but the back-breaking work had left his body bruised and battered. Every winter had brought with it a cold that seeped into his bones locking them up. The only thing that relaxed them was his nightly ritual of an ounce of bourbon while enjoying the warmth from his fireplace. But none of that mattered now, in his new home, the pain was a memory.
He nodded at him, encouraging him to talk.
“Um,” he stuttered still awed by Him. “I mean, what would you like us to do?” he finally stammered.
He smiled benevolently. He knew Clay would have questions. Clay was very methodical and thoughtful. “My children will be encountering some difficult times in their lives, and I want you all to assist them on their journey. Since coming Home you have accumulated an insurmountable amount of knowledge. So use it. One caveat is that you all must agree on every decision. And remember that sometimes the best decision isn’t always the most popular one.”
Clay grinned, satisfied with the answer. I’m up to the challenge, he thought and he felt His response.
“I know you are,” He telepathed, connecting intimately with Clay.
Clay glided happily, feeling at one with Him. He momentarily took in his surroundings. Flowers sprouted up ten feet with colors so vivid that they’d blind a human. And lush grass, spread out as far as the eyes can see, was so high that an individual could easily get lost in it for days.
When he had first come Home, he was overcome by the beauty of it all. He’d sit for hours drinking in the crystalline birds that soared through the air, leaving trails of vivid purple, red, blue and other unworldly colors behind, it was so magnificent that he would’ve cried if it was possible.
Beautiful, he reflected before rejoining the group.
“Who will be in charge? And what happens if we can’t come to an agreement?” Brett Thompkins asked. In his other life he had been nicknamed Golden Boy, not only because he resembled one with his blond hair and blue eyes, but every deal he touched mad
e millions. As a CEO, he had ruled his corporation as though it was his own country. At the height of his career, he fired hundreds of his employees, then two months later purchased a five million dollar corporate jet, a move that made him the most hated man in Chicago. His desire to control didn’t diminish—not even here.
He tilted His head and grinned. “You are delightful. No one is in charge. You all will agree on every decision, and I want you all to respect it. And I have some rules. Under no circumstances can you alter the health of anyone. You cannot make direct contact with anyone other than your charges. And keep your visits to Earth to a minimum. You all should have ample time to do your job for I’ll be asleep for two hours.”
Two years their time, Tyrell Jackson silently calculated. As a kid he sold drugs, it was the only life he knew. He sold them to everybody: Kids, pregnant women and senior citizens, as long as they had money, they were customers. It wasn’t until he was nineteen-years-old and sitting in the hospital with a gunshot wound in his stomach did he realize that he needed a new life. As soon as he was released from the hospital, he took all the money he had accumulated and moved to Atlanta. There he hired a personal nurse who took care of him while he recuperated and who had later became his wife. She had fallen in love with his boyish good looks. Culinary school soon followed, for thirty years he ran one of Atlanta’s best soul food restaurants.
He floated in front of them. “Any more questions?” He asked, His voice tired.