damn.”
He broke out into laughter. That sort of turned me on.
“I apologize for the quality of the meat, and between me and you, I’ve been waiting for someone to come in here and tell it like it is.” He leaned in closer to me and even though he’d obviously been butchering meat all day, I could still pick up on the faint scent of his cologne. “I keep telling the manager that some of this meat is bad, but he continues to sell it anyway.”
I grinned at him. “Well, maybe I’ll blow the whistle on them and call one of those investigative television shows or something.”
“Maybe you should.”
We both laughed. I started squeezing his upper arm because I wanted to know what he was hiding underneath that tacky uniform.
“I wouldn’t want to cause you to lose your job, though,” I said sarcastically. “What on earth would you do then?”
“I have other talents.”
“I bet you do.” I eyed him seductively. “Can I see where you butcher your meat?”
“Huh?”
“I said, can I see where you butcher your meat?”
“Umm, we’re not supposed to have customers back there.”
“So, you’d risk losing your job over bad meat, but you won’t risk it over me?” I stuck my bottom lip out. “I’m hurt.”
“Aw, don’t be that way.” He licked his lips and started looking around to see if the coast was clear before taking my hand and leading me to a set of double doors. “I guess it wouldn’t harm anything for you to take a look.”
We were in the meat locker and just like it appeared in movies, it was cold up in there.
“It’s cold as shit!” I exclaimed.
He laughed. “By the way, I’m Lewis.”
“So it says on your name tag.”
“Since you don’t have a name tag, how about telling me yours?”
“You can call me whatever you like, but I’d rather not talk at all.” I grabbed him by the back of his neck and slipped my tongue into his mouth briefly. “So what are your other talents?”
“Huh?”
“You said out there that you have other talents.” I decided it was high time to see what he was holding, so I grabbed his dick.
“Nice. Very nice.”
“Thank you.” He started palming my tits. “These are nice, too.”
“Want to suck them?”
He looked at the door to the freezer. The coast was still clear.
“I might lose my job behind this. You better make this good.”
I laughed. “I make everything good, baby.”
Jon had on this tired-ass, homely dress, but it was easy to get out of and before long, I was nude and holding on to a vacant meat hook with my hands, surrounded by sides of beef.
Lewis was on his knees with my legs wrapped around his shoulders and his tongue was exploring my pussy.
It felt exhilarating. I threw my head back, closed my eyes, and whispered, “You see, Jon. I run this. This is my party.”
Lewis stopped going down on me. “Who the fuck is Jon? I’m Lewis.”
I dug my fingernails down into his hair and pushed his head back into my pussy. “Shut the hell up and eat!”
What a boring week at work. While I enjoyed peace and quiet, it was even a little too much for me. I couldn’t wait until my appointment with Dr. Spencer on Monday. Hopefully, this time I could bring myself to tell her more about what had happened to me. It was hard to believe that I was willing to open up like that, but I didn’t see any other choice.
I hadn’t had any weird smells on me that week. Male smells. But something strange did happen that morning. I was sleeping late since it was Saturday and my phone rang. I grabbed it because I assumed it was Momma. I knew that she was due back late the night before and I was right in my assumption.
“Jonquinette, baby!” she squealed into the phone. “I’m back! Did you miss me?”
“Of course I missed you, Momma.”
I really did miss her, too. Even though Momma and I didn’t see each other all the time when she was in Atlanta, it was a source of comfort to know that she was right across town whenever I needed her. Unlike Daddy.
“Did you enjoy Europe?”
“That’s the understatement of the century, baby. I had the time of my life.”
“That’s great, Momma. You deserved it.”
“So what have you been doing with yourself? I hope you aren’t still cooped up in that apartment every weekend. Life’s too short for that.”
“I get out and hang with some of my friends whenever I get the chance,” I lied. “Most of the time, I bring work home with me and end up buried in that for hours.”
“They don’t pay you enough to bring your work home, Jonquinette. I still don’t know why you wanted to become an accountant. You could’ve been anything you wanted to be.”
“I wanted to be an accountant, Momma, and I’m very satisfied with my job.”
She sighed, voicing her disapproval that way. “Well, you’re still young, so if you ever want to try another profession, it’s never too late.”
She had a lot of nerve. All she’d ever been was a housewife, and after she kicked Daddy out, she moved in one sugar daddy after another to cover her bills.
“I’m happy, Momma. Can’t you just be happy for me?”
“Whatever you say.”
There was a pregnant pause while we both gathered our thoughts.
“Jonquinette, how about dinner tomorrow?”
“I have to go to church.”
“Church doesn’t last all day. I’m talking tomorrow evening. Say about six at the Ram’s Head Tavern over in Buckhead.”
I really didn’t want to go to dinner with Momma but knew I’d never hear the end of it if I didn’t make her happy.
“Okay, Momma. I’ll be there.”
“Great.” She giggled. “I could tell you were sleeping when I called so I’ll let you go. See you tomorrow, and don’t be late.”
“I won’t be.”
She hung up. Momma had this thing about never saying good-bye. I think it was because her first childhood memory revolved around tragedy. She remembered kissing her grandparents good-bye one morning when they left for the mom-and-pop store they owned on the coast of Miami. They never came back. Two masked gunmen took their lives for a measly thirty-seven dollars. Momma’s parents were janitors, but somehow she turned out to be extremely materialistic, along with her two sisters.
