Fiction Series: A Nice Backstroke Part Sex (6)
Here we go again.
This nigga is back.
He will not leave me alone.
I am sick of him.
My bed feels super comfy as I continue to ignore the unwanted guest at my door.
I roll my eyes. You would think no one ever fucked him before. Someday, definitely not tonight, but I really got to stop treating these men like this, but they all make me sick. When you ignore them, they keep coming back. This one is a prime example and he just topped my list of crazy mofos. After Dr. Head gave me several amazing orgasms, this fool was ruining the high I was on.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Tay…You hear me!! I know you are there, YOUR CAR IS RIGHT OUTSIDE.”
My leasing office will hear my mouth tomorrow for not having that gate fixed. You can bet that.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
How had my day come to this? Running into Robert this afternoon and now Randy is showing me his psycho side. I really had a thing for men whose name started with a R. But, at least they were all fine; Randy is the cream of the crop. Yet I couldn’t stand to be with him. He makes me cringe. Any other woman would love him, I am sure of it. He has his life together. He has a great ass job making close to six figures, no crumb snatchers (children, I mean), great ties to the community and honestly, a nice sized dick. But he couldn’t eat pussy to save his life and his stroke game?! That shit was weaker than Tim Tebow’s throwing arm. The passion wasn’t there, either. Not like it was with Robert, I still hate him though, don’t get it twisted. Let me not even go there. On top of all of that, Randy is mad clingy.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Tay. I promise I’m done with you. You won’t have to worry about me ever again.”
“Thank God!” I mumble out loud. He is interrupting my post orgasm time! Why did he even think I would answer my door? He knew the rules, if I don’t call or text you, do not have any interaction with me after 11:30pm Eastern time. I love my me time. It keeps me sane. It keeps me from constantly wanting to kill people.
Maybe I could write. That normally puts me to sleep. But all my thoughts tonight have been centered on my bisexual ex fiancé, Robert. I missed our random lazy days. I missed…I can’t go back down this road. I knew the one thing that would put me to sleep, lavender oil. A drop behind each of my ears and on my throat, calms me. It is the only thing that would make me sleep after this mentally exhausting day.
Tomorrow would be a long day. In between clients, I would have to curse Randy and my leasing office out.
Ten minutes later, my lavender starts to kick in. Hopefully, Robert wouldn’t start to hunt my dreams again.
My first client of the day is my longtime, standing client, Logan. She is such a sweetheart but she has some serious issues.
“Hi, Tay! How was your week?” She says as she prances in my salon with her normal attire: leggings, oversized t-shirt, and chuck Taylors.
“I’m great today. Come sit shampoo chair.”
Logan comes every week but she works every nerve I have. Every. Week. Logan’s family is super rich and she loves to act like she’s poor. Yet she has every new Chanel bag that comes out. Logan has hair down to her mid back and every week she comes in and allows me to shampoo and style it. She has skin the complexion of almonds, with deep set chocolate eyes. She stands about 5’3 and is all of 125 pounds soaking wet. Logan is composed of nothing but titties and heavy Chanel bags. She didn’t have any kind of shape but she exercises five times a week to “keep the cellulite away.” I start off every Friday at the salon with her. After three years of doing her hair, I’ve learned to ignore her and tune in and comment at the appropriate times.
Logan starts on her usual rant as I shampoo her hair. I look around the space that I called mine. “Tay’s Chair” is the one thing that I constantly put my all into. I have been in this space for 2 years now and every day I walk into this space, I’m amazed. I can’t believe it’s mine. My salon was quaintly located in an upscale neighborhood of Atlanta, Brookhaven, with only four chairs located in my salon, we were a small but talented salon. I employee two other stylists: Sophia and Mikal. I met Sophia in cosmetology school five years ago and we immediately became fast friends. Mikal is the quiet one out of the four of us, but the man could lay tracks like no one else. Aaron is my right hand and the salon manager/receptionist. Nothing happened in the salon without him knowing. He is my own personal gossip blog. I cherish my little team. As I look around and thought about how I blessed I am to have such an amazing team, I also thought about how I got here.
So let’s rewind, since you’re gonna be all in my business, I may as well tell you, I like to collect orgasmic memories with my box. The ratchet way of saying that exact same thing? I like to be a hoe. After my relationship with Robert ended, I went out and explored my sexuality. It was one of my best decisions in my post 25. Ok, so back to the salon.
Around two and a half years ago, I met this fine ass man, named Christian. He was everything I wanted in a man at the time. Tall, ambitious, nice size dick and his head was ok, not as trash as Randy’s but it kept me satisfied. Christian was the color of a cardboard box. I’m so serious, he was that weird complexion, not too light but not enough to call brown, which is why I started calling him Box. We met at a diner at 4 in the morning after a night of partying. He asked for my number and I was so enamored by his confidence that I gave it to him. We went on a date nearly every day for the next month. Box was the perfect gentleman and the sex…man the sex was amazing. I remember this one time I was giving him head and he asked me to put my bullet on his balls while….
“Tay!!?! Are you ignoring me?”
“No maam. Can you repeat what you said though? I couldn’t hear you over Mikal’s blow-dryer.”
“I said, I’m going on a blind date tomorrow and I was asking you if this outfit would be ok? You know you always look so nice when I see you.”
“Thanks,” I said as I looked down at my common uniform, black on black. Today, a black fitted skirt that hit mid-calf, a black cami, black lace kimono and gray booties were my choice of attire. This fall weather was the perfect excuse for my favorite shoes.
“Ok so what are you going to wear? Let’s go to the chair so I can blow your hair out” I already knew the answer: oversized top, jeggings, and booties.
“I just bought this black oversized top that shows one shoulder, black jeggings and some grey booties…similar to the ones you are wearing.”
“Oh that would be so cute! Pair it with silver hoops since I’m going to curl your hair today. Oh and some silver bracelets!”
Logan has all the money in the world, but her style is cut and dry. She never steps outside her box, but that wasn’t my problem. I am just here to make her hair look pretty.
Thirty minutes later, I turn her around to face the mirror, we are done.
“Oh tay, I love the curls!”
“Thank you! I wanted to try something new for your since we always do bone straight. Maybe your blind date will love it? I can’t wait to hear how it goes next week! You can check out with Aaron. See you next week!” A drink is needed.
As in our normal routine, not even 90 seconds later, Aaron came bouncing into the break room.
“Trick, you got Chanel bags under your eyes… you were hoeing last night?”
“Fuck you. No, I actually wasn’t, well maybe, but I didn’t go to bed until 2 am. Randy showed up at my apartment unannounced last night.”
“Bitch. HE. DID. NOT?!? Maybe means you were with Dr. Head. I know you.” He lives for drama because he is a messy bitch. But he is my messy bitch.
“Yes. He knocked for nearly 30 minutes before he got tired and left. Hopefully, that was the last of him, matter of fact, and let me send a rude message now. I hate unannounced visitors. Also, I am ignoring your Dr. Head comment.”
“Did he forget your rule?!”
“I think he lost his mind, to be honest.”
I start to compose my message:
Randy: Sir, I have no idea what was your problem last night but never in your lifepop up to my place unannounced again. That was so inappropriate and you know my rule. I think it’s time we ended this little fling. I can’t do this anymore and last night was the last straw. The past 6 weeks have been amazing but I’m tired of having to baby you and such. I hope you find happiness.
“Ok Aaron, text sent. I’m tired of this.”
“Bitch you should be! You been popping ya coochie around town like it’s the damn Labor Day parade.”
I glared at him and threw the nearest towel at him.
“I know you aren’t talking. What did you get into last night? Your snapchat showed me you were back with Edward.”
“Yes ho. Edward. You know? The one that makes you scream his name after calling him zaddy? That Edward.”
“Oh yea. He came over.” He rubs his right wrist with his left hand.
“Um…what is that?” He tries to hide the bruise, but I already see it.
“What in the hell happened?”
“He tied me up last night… it was.. um…punishment.”
“Yes. For ignoring him for a week. Which was YOUR horrible ass idea.”
“I mean, but he came back. So it worked. So you owe me. Thanks in advance. That punishment sounds interesting.”
“Yes hoe it was. Maybe if someone tied ya raggedy ass up, you wouldn’t keep running.”
I hate his ass.
“Aaron, remember that ex fiancé that I refuse to talk about? Ran into him at the W, yesterday. Talk about awkward.”
“OH BITCH… you are just one closet of secrets today. You mean the ex-fiancé that you refuse to tell me why your engagement ended? That fiancé?”
“Yes, hoe that fiancé. What time is my next appointment? I will tell you about it.”
“You have fifteen minutes, talk fast.”
I proceed to tell Aaron about the man that broke my heart. The man that cheated on me the entire time we were together, with another man.
After, I finish, Aaron sits there stunned.
“Tay. I...wow… Atlanta is so small.”
“Well, Keith is my older brother.”