by Lonz Cook
Manny led her to his apartment’s door, opened it, and they proceeded inside. He bought her close, placed his lips on her neck, kicked the door closed, and moved his lips to hers. He kissed her with interest and enticed her with a maneuver of military envelopment. She sighed, broke the embrace, dropped her purse, and pulled him close again. They kissed with increased intensity, removed their pants then dropping his shirt and her blouse on the floor. Manny lifted her into his arms and carried her to his bedroom. He laid her down, grabbed a condom from his nightstand drawer, and returned to Frieda without hesitation. He kissed her navel, moved his lips near her nipples, circled them with his tongue and caressed her upper body with one hand while he balanced himself with the other. She grabbed his head and pulled him so their lips met for another sensual kiss.
Frieda took control. She peeled her panties and bra then mounted Manny by laying on top of him. She caressed and massaged him with her body, and played with his erected imprisoned penis. She grabbed his shorts, pulled them towards his ankles and released the towering statue of impression, then maneuvered her body in a position, placing her vagina on his lips and her mouth above the mouthwatering excitement. She licked his erect penis.
Without hesitation, Manny obliged and explored her hardened clitoris with his tongue, took one hand and tapped her buttocks, and thrust his pelvis upward to get depth in her mouth. He felt invigorated, surprised, and accomplished. He helped her achieve an orgasm and allowed a spurt of cum to flow from himself - a trick he learned spending many nights in liberty ports. Manny embraced her body and got her on her knees, he rolled the condom on and without a moment’s hesitation, slammed his penis into her moist vagina. She yelped and he rode, thrusting fast, slow, hard, soft, and deep and shallow, all mixed without a specific rhythm. Just as he paused to change the rhythm again, she pushed back as if taking over.
She clutched him with her strength, wiggled to her g-spot and climaxed. As soon as she let go of her clutch, he rolled her onto her back without leaving her depth, and pushed into her again. This time he stroked hard and strong as if he danced to the rhythm of a Latin beat. He pushed, moved side to side and pushed more. He kissed her hard, caressing her right breast.
Manny felt Frieda change her composure and press back to him. She met his rhythm and opened her body to his every thrust. He pushed, she bucked, and together they climaxed. She slowed her movement but Manny continued to stroke, in hopes of a second erection. He moved as he softened and dared to stop. Frieda responded and when she saw he remained limp, she stopped moving and gently pushed him off of her. “Lay on your back,” she instructed. Manny followed her directions and watched Frieda position herself in front of his face again, this time she straddled his chest right below his chin with a grasp on the headboard. “Come on big boy, you know what to do.”
Manny grabbed her ass and pulled her to where his tongue entered her, as if he employed a guided missile in enemy territory. She moaned while he tongued. She moved and he explored. He felt her body shake and saw goose bumps on her skin. He didn’t stop until she let go of the headboard. She fell onto the bed and didn’t move. “That was intense,” Frieda said short of breath.
Manny laid there for a moment and didn’t respond. He waited for silence and allowed her to slow her breathing. Manny said, “Yes, it was. Are you ready for round two?”
“No, I’m good.”
“Can I get you something to drink?”
“I don’t think so. What time is it?
Manny looked at his watch. “Nearly 3 am. What time do you normally wake up in the morning?”
“Around six and that’s why I’ve got to go.”
“Go? You aren’t anxious for round two at sunrise?”
“I’ll take a rain check, maybe next time.”
“Next time — sounds like a plan,” he smiled.
Frieda dressed and while she pulled her tank top over her head, “Hey, I don’t think there will be a next time.”
Surprised at her comment, Manny responded, “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, but I have to be honest with you.”
“Are you married?”
“No, not married. And I’m not looking for a commitment. I needed you, I needed to feel a man and release my built up pressure. You did that for me.”
“So, I’m your one night stand? We can’t plan something for next week, like maybe a walk in the park?”
Frieda walked to the door and Manny followed as he slid his jeans on. “You don’t have a card so I can call you sometime?” Manny said as the surprise at her motivation to leave was so abrupt.
“Man, are you that out of touch or what?”
“I was trying to be kind. I know most women want some way to keep in touch.”
“Those women want something serious; I’m not interested. It’s not that you’re a bad guy or bad looking; I’m not ready for a relationship. I got what I needed so it’s time to go.” Frieda kissed Manny once more and whispered, “You were perfect and I have your card.” She collected her bag and quickly walked out of the door without looking back.
Manny stood in amazement. For the first time in his life, he felt like those women he’d left in multiple seaports around the world. Now I get it, he thought. He locked the front door and went to his bathroom.
Chapter 17
Monday morning, Tiffany rose from her bed for another workday. She had enjoyed the weekend with Valerie and they had fun without focusing on men. She was happy the new week had arrived, and her excitement came from a renewed attitude. Her walk to the bus stop was joyous as she realized the past was just that; the past. On the journey she noticed those simple things that made her life great. The location where she lived, the accessibility to public transportation, and the lovely people who owned those small mom and pop shops for quick goods and services - all helped her embrace her move from suburbia. She was a few steps closer to the bus stop when she saw Tom, and before he could say anything, Tiffany greeted him. “Good morning Tom, how are you?”
Tom was taken aback by Tiffany’s greeting. He looked at her with raised eyebrows. He remembered their last meeting, and didn’t know if he should speak or move away. He stood firm positioning himself for a powerful response. “Good morning.”
Tiffany approached Tom and looked at his face hoping to connect to his eyes, “I’m sorry for the other day. I probably scared you when all you were trying to be was a friendly, positive person. I was having a bad day and took it out on you. Please accept my apology. Sometimes we girls just don’t know who to trust and we retaliate at whoever is close. It wasn’t fair to you at all.”
“It wasn’t, and I accept your apology.” Tom halfheartedly smiled.
“Good. Are you ready for your day?”
Tom glanced at her, hesitant in responding, “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” he answered.
“Then it’s going to be a good day.”
“I’m sure it will.”
Silence fell between Tom and Tiffany while they waited at the bus stop. When the bus arrived they took seats at opposite ends with Tom in the back and Tiffany in a seat near the front. As the bus made stops, she smiled at every patron that boarded. On the bus route it was her stop. She disembarked and transferred to the cable car.
Tiffany smiled during the entire trip and recognized the beauty of San Francisco. For a typical morning she felt an unusually positive vibe amongst the people in the street. It was a perfect day and Tiffany enjoyed the purest emotion, free from a spiral of fear of financial failure or the challenge of work. She brought that energy into the store.
Tiffany did her usual routine - clocked in, went to her locker, and read the assignment board. She noticed she had been reassigned. Instead of working perfume and makeup, she would be working at the men’s fragrance counter. Tiffany smiled knowing that improved the possibilities of interacting with gorgeous man. The best retail area to meet men in the store was men’s clothing, but cologne was surely a cl
ose second. Her assignment led to multiple interactions with customers of both genders. After lunch, a tall handsome gentleman walked into her section. Tiffany stopped what she was doing to gaze at him from behind a cabinet. Her mind went right into a fantasy of the two of them – sharing simple words and then his lips found hers in the dressing room of the store. She signaled to her associates about the handsome man at her counter. She watched him pace as if his focus was a mission to discover a new path to paradise.
His cologne danced with women he passed in the store as it allured the weak at heart and dangled their senses as bait for a fiery excursion. He walked strong — masculine but graceful – and was dressed in a fine tailored shirt perfectly fitting to his well-defined physique. His perfect butt invited views and Tiffany could see he gained interest from women who spied from a distance. On the third pass he stopped in front of a unique brand of cologne. When he looked from the glass case in response to Tiffany's "May I help you?" he shared his brown piercing eyes and spoke with a smooth, melodic voice.
“I’m looking for Dane by that singer. I can’t remember his name.”
“I know which one you’re talking about. I’ll get it for you.”
Tiffany nodded her head and left the counter to retrieve the item, and with her back to the customer she softly patted her chest as if catching her breath from a fast sprint. Tiffany returned with the cologne in a bag and placed it on the counter. She handed him the receipt, and when he reached for the paper, she gently grabbed his hand and looked him in the eyes, "Could I interest you in anything else?"
“Not at the moment. Thank you.”
Tiffany took an extra step to complete the transaction. She slipped a few samples of other colognes in his bag. “I added a few samples of our latest colognes. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Thank you.” He smiled and gave Tiffany a wink before he left.
She couldn’t believe how she’d damn near melted in his presence. Girls from the other counters came over and teased her with envy. “Did you get his card or number?”
Tiffany responded to their question by fanning herself as if recouping from the heat of the moment. “No, but I have him in my memory.” Her workday ended she left the store for home.
During the ride home she daydreamed of the sexy gentleman customer. Once home, she changed clothes and sat on her bed with her laptop. Every time she came across a picture of a handsome man on the internet, her mind returned to her encounter with the handsome customer at work. He wouldn’t leave her mind long enough for her to focus. Her body began to ache as she wondered what would have happened if he could have taken a moment to get close. Tiffany closed her eyes and tried to shake the vision in order to concentrate on reading her emails. When she opened her eyes again she came across one from Manny and clicked to open it. It was his invitation to Skype. Though she knew of Manny’s appearance from his profile picture, it was her customer who had her mind’s attention. Her ideas flared and her imagination to interact with him roared.
Her memory swept over his face and body; his lips, his eyes, his chest, his butt. She remembered his voice and his movements. She imagined her head on his shoulder and her lips touching his neck. She envisioned gentle kisses that led to greater things. Her imagination raced to where he grabbed her, lifted her in his arms and carried her into a private chamber of the passion elite.
Tiffany fell back on her bed as if positioned by her imaginary lover. Her mind focusing on his touch, his lips, and imagining him removing his shirt. She stripped of her clothes, reached into the night stand drawer for her vibrator, and imagined his muscled body was all over her body while she held his excitement in her hand. She prepared her body for the hard penetrator of adulation. She licked her fingers before circling her breast. She focused on the nipple and with pleasure in mind she gently cupped her breast and squeezed it.
Tiffany moved the vibrator on a direct path and stopped short of her clitoris. She rotated her hips tilting her pelvis toward the tip of the vibrator, barely touched the top of her erogenous hot spot. Her heated blood roared in her ears with the handsome man in her mind’s eye moving his hands up and down her body.
Her imagination was so intense, she felt him explore her body with his tongue, kissing all the right spots. With a quick move of the thumb, the vibrator came to life, on medium speed. Tiffany gave it a push and explored the point of her enjoyment. Within minutes she felt a thrust of pleasure and then a hardening sensation that drove her for more. Before she realized it, her finger clicked the vibrator to its highest speed. She bucked from touching her key to excitement and the intensity drove her wild to a powerful climax that arrived with a vengeance. Tiffany tossed the vibrator on the bed and crossed her legs, turned the vibrator off and laid there. She soaked in the relaxed feeling after the intense release. Her mind and body pleased, the fantasy of her customer faded, and a deep slumber attacked her as if in receipt of a full body massage.
Tiffany woke the next morning early enough to jump on her laptop. She viewed a few web pages, searched for the cologne her fantasy lover purchased, and glanced at the models on the page. It pleased her to have had an imaginary lover that helped her achieve a peaceful state of mind and body. With a click of the mouse, Tiffany was in her email account. This time she read Manny’s note and paid attention. Skyping was new to her since she didn’t instant message much outside Yahoo or MSN. After she researched the program, it took her 10 minutes to download it, register, and create an account. She wrote informing Manny of her action.
Manny,
I opened a Skype account under my email address, [email protected]. Look for my invitation. I am anxious for our first visual chat and maybe a voice call.
Tiffany
A news popup from the San Francisco Gate, a local newspaper, directed Tiffany to its website. The story grabbed Tiffany’s interest. Headlined, “Mother commits suicide over fallen soldier,” she read the horrible mishap of a mother taking her life in grief of her killed son. After she finished the story, she ate breakfast and read the latest news, fashion and sports. She closed the laptop and flashed to the encounter with her sexy customer. Her thought of him improved her mood and motivated her to get herself together for work. Soon Tiffany found her mind and body back at Macy’s on mid-shift, where she worked her usual location. Periodically, she would tour through the perfumes and colognes counters with the intent to meet a magnificent specimen of a man.
Chapter 18
Manny clocked out, went to the gym for an hour and a half and then headed home. When he arrived, he saw a sticky note attached to his door and a box from UPS on his stoop. He picked up the box, took the note and headed inside. It was coffee and a book in the box - the specialty coffee and unique book he purchased for Camille. She had returned her gift with a note: I don’t accept shit from assholes. The package surprised him and without calling her every name under the sun, he calmly shrugged his shoulders and jumped to his laptop, booted up, got a drink — took a sip, then went to the bathroom for a quick shower.
Minutes into the evening he opened his email in hopes that Tiffany had replied. He scanned his inbox and clicked on her response. She said Yes! Manny smiled while he read Tiffany’s email and clicked “yes” in response to another Skype friend request. He stopped surfing and chanced contacting Tiffany by sending her a conversation box invitation. He knew for sure she wasn’t home, but got a response. Hey, I was just looking for you! Puzzled, he paused before he responded. Are you there? popped up in the box indicating the other person’s lack of patience. Yes, I’m here. Is this Tiffany? Manny typed, unsure with whom he was chatting. He remembered his “yes” to a Skype invitation.
I can be anyone you like, the person answered.
I’m sorry, I must have made a mistake. I won’t bother you. He became sure that whoever was answering was not Tiffany.
No bother. I’m looking for a man. You’re a sexy looking hunk. I want someone who will take good care of his woman. You know,
the man who cherishes every moment, creates a love worth having, and start a family. Is that you?
Manny couldn’t believe his eyes. “What the hell, sounds like a pick-up line used in some seaport.” He typed, I bet you’ve been heartbroken many times and the men weren’t worth your time. They don’t understand you.
How did you know?
Manny: Cause I’ve heard the same pick-up line lady. I’m not interested.
The woman sent a downloadable picture file.
Open the picture and tell me after you’ve seen it that you’re not interested.
Curiosity overtook Manny’s distrust - he opened the picture. He was startled at the woman’s aggression but not surprised at second effort. I’ve heard of people like you - pretending to be someone they aren’t. How do I even know you’re a woman? Who sends a partially naked picture? I bet this picture isn’t you. The next thing you’ll do is ask me to webcam with you.
Actually, I want to know if you’d like me to dance or strip for you. It won’t cost you big daddy.
You are wasting my damn time and yours. He closed the chat box, deleted the screen name from his contact list and decided to find Tiffany using her email address. Unfortunately, he didn’t find her. He thought she had set up her Skype account and sent a response, but he didn’t see it. Man, she’s worth waiting for. He sent her a note with the friend-invite in the Skype request, making it easy for her to respond. I hope she comes on tonight.
Chapter 19
Tiffany arrived home late that night. She had met Valerie after work and attended an art gallery show. Valerie admitted she wanted to introduce her to one of her new acquaintances.
“Again Valerie — Really?” Tiffany said while they walked towards 49 Geary Art Galleries near Union Square.
“Don’t do that Tiffany. Don’t get on me about my views about men. You’ll see, trust me.”