She Finally Did It This Time...My Poor White Sub

She Finally Did It This Time …….Chapter 3

 

*NOTE*

     I appreciate all the emails I’ve gotten and your kind (kinky) compliments really encourage me to keep writing what happens BUT ……..I’m not making this up as I go. I’m just sharing one of the most erotic and kinky events in my life, so far. And this is something that I want to write down and keep, like a kinky diary.

 

Prelude

     Last weekend, my sub-slut A was going to get drunk and take some kinky pics to email to me. It’s become a common event, since I’ve been away almost a year overseas in Taiwan. And in that time, a fetish of mine has become very severe fascination, interracial lesbian B&D and S&M. Our phone conversations have mirrored this fetish, and to her credit, A has really played along well.

A will get on the phone, torment herself with crops, dildos, clothespins, paddles and an assortment of nipple clamps and pretend a black girl is there doing it to her. She will say things like, “Oh, no mam. Please don’t slap my red tits again, it ….(SLAP!) (SLAP!) AAAaaahhhhhh!!! Yes! I’m a dirty white slut! What! I have to kiss your feet? Oh, no, please don’t make me … (SLAP!) (SLAP!) (SLAP!) ….oh god, mam, please, no more, I … (SLAP!) (SLAP!) (SLAP!) AAAaaahhhhh!!! …” And it sounds so, so, so good on the phone. She has this deep south kinky Cajun Demi Moore voice.

Well, we did this a few times, maybe one time too many. She got pissed off, “What, I’m not enough for you. Do you want to fuck a black girl instead of me!” And we got into an argument on the phone.

I felt bad and she felt bad, so when her trailer was empty, she decided she was going to get drunk and take few good pics for me. By chance (heavenly blessing or hell curse), A’s half black/white neighbor Chantel came over to borrow a DVD. Fueled by her feelings and vodka, A got Chantel to take the pics for her. But, Chantel switched cell phones and used hers to take them. Finally, telling my sub-slut A that she will keep them until I came home and personally collected them from her. In the meanwhile, Chantel just might use them to blackmail my girl into doing things. Actually, I kind of hope she does.

 

Chapter 3

 

     Hello? (Hey baby, so how are you?) Fine. (And how is that big white ass?) Huh, it’s almost white again. There are just a few marks left. (Really?) Yeah. (So you can sit now?) Oh yeah, I could sit the next day, but it hurt, especially my right cheek. (Why?) That was the side she hit the most. (She! Wow! I still can’t believe I’m hearing you say that.) Well, that’s what you wanted. (Well, I …) She came back yesterday. (What?) Yep. (She was sipping on her tea and had to make slurping sounds.) (She was there?) Yep. (Did she remember last weekend?) Oh, hell yeah. I was kind of hoping she would have forgotten or erased the pics or something. (She didn’t erase them, did she?) You are so cute. No. She still has them and she’s keeping them until you come home and get them. (Why me?) Because she wants to meet you. (And then we can…) I don’t know about any “we’s” but when you get back your ass is going right over there and getting them. (Are you going too?) What, you think I’m going to leave you and her alone in her trailer? No way. (Oh. Well, that could be even better. Does she live alone?) No. She lives with her brother and a sister or two. (Cool. Maybe the whole family can …) We are just going to get them. OK. (OK. But…hey what happened?)

     She called me and told me she was coming over. So I cleaned up the house a little and changed my clothes. (What were you wearing?) My house robe. (No bra and panties?) No. But I changed into a t-shirt and jeans. (oh) I waited most of the afternoon and when she knocked on my door, my heart jumped. I was nervous and a little scared. (Was it her? Was she alone?) Yes. (Did she dress up too?) Huh, she was dressed as usual. (White tank top, shorts and bra-less.) Yes. And she looked kind of nervous too. We just stood there for a moment and I asked her inside.

     We didn’t know what to say and there was this strange silence. Then I asked her if she wanted some tea and then we started to talk. (Did you look her in the eyes?) No. I couldn’t do that yet. We talked a little about stuff, I don’t even remember what, the weather or something, then she said, “Hey, abou’ las’ weekend, I don’t kno’ wha’ got into me. I’ve never done somethin’ like tha’ befo’. And I feel kind o’ strange about it.” I told her I did too. Then she apologized for using her cell phone to take the pics, “I really didn’t know wha’ I was do’in. I was getting’ drunk, girl, you is so bad.” Then we laughed a little. (Did she give them back to you?) Well, I asked her about that. And she said, “Girl, ‘dat was wrong to do ‘dat. But, I is gonna keep ‘em until I see you’re man.” (Still) Yeah.

     Then we started to talk about it. I was getting kind of pissed off that she was going to keep them. I was getting kind of pissed off when she kept asking about you and when you were going to come back. I told her, those were very private and personal pics, and they were for you and you alone, and she had no right to keep them. Then she asked me if I talked to you. And I told her yes. She asked what you said. And I told her that you were upset, but, kind of turned on by it, “Girl, I though’ ya’ waz bad. He is ‘da bad one”. But she still wasn’t going to give me the pics.

And right before I started to get mad, she said, “Well girl, if ya’ want to send yo’ man some pics, we can take some mo’”. (What?) Yeah, you heard me. (No way!) Yeah, she did. “But, I don’t wan’ to see yo’ titties again. But we can take some mo’”. (Are you sure?) Yes, I’m sure.

Then she told me that she was going to help me. And if you liked black girls so much, she was going to help with that, too. (How?) She wanted to turn me into a black girl for you. (What?) Yeah. She wanted to take me shopping with her. (Where? The mall?) Hell no. Down at Fashion Trends. (Where?) The cheap store. It’s all black. They even have those big pimp hats in the window. (You went there?) No. But I drove past it after work and I looked in the window. (Nice clothes?) If you like sluts. (Well, I …) I know. (Did you?) What do you think? (You didn’t.) I did. (What! Am I hearing you correctly? You went shopping for some “urban” slut clothes?) Yep. (Were you the only white girl in the store?) Yep. (No way!) Do you want to hear about it or not? (Oh, I’m all ears.) OK.

So, she wanted to do something for me. I think she wanted to make up a little for the other night. (Not a nice deep tongue kiss?) Gross. I’m not going to finish if you keep it up. (Sorry.) OK. So, she wanted to dress me like a black girl. At first I didn’t want to go. But she kept bugging me about it. And she kept egging me on about it. “Jus’ come ou’ and ge’ a few shirts. Girl, have ya’ looking slutty, girl. Drive yo’ man wild.” Well, she kept on about it and finally I said yes. (Wow!) Yeah.

She went home to get her purse … (And her cell phone?) …no, and then we rode up in my car. (Does she have a car?) No. (Did you change clothes?) Yeah. I went back to my room and put on a bra and panties. (Awh! Did she change, too.) No. She always walks around in a white sleeveless t-shirt with her tits hanging out. (Really?) Yeah.

Well, we got there and the smell. (Did it stink?) Yep. Most of the clothes were used. (Yuck!) And the shoes stunk the worst. (Did you try some on? Ha ha ha) Hell no. I’m not putting my feet in those shoes, even with socks on. We went over to the clothes racks and she started to pick things out for me to wear. (Nice clothes?) No. Some of the tackiest and slutiest clothes I’ve ever seen. Some hoochie-mama clothes. (No white sleeveless t-shirts?) Oh, she had a few of those, too.

There were two dressing rooms and she put me in one to try them on. So, I started to strip but I didn’t notice she left the curtain open. (What?) Yeah. (All the way?) Oh, no. But she left it open about three inches. (Wow!) Yeah. And I was the only white girl in the store. (Were there some guys too?) Yeah, they were there with their girlfriends. (When did you notice?) After I stripped down and I heard someone say something like, “Oh, ‘dat white bitch think she is, showing off her ass like ‘dat. What a slut!” And I couldn’t figure out who they were talking about. I thought that maybe there was another white girl in the store. But then I turned around and saw my curtain open. (Did anyone see anything?) Oh, did they. So I shut the curtain and finished changing.

(What did you have to wear?) The first was a dress, with a really short mini-skirt. But it was too small. The next was a red shirt and a short blue jean skirt. (How short?) I couldn’t sit down in it. (Was there a mirror in the dressing room?) No. I had to go outside and use the mirror on the outside of the door. (Were people watching you?) Oh, yeah. (How did it look?) Like, I was a hooker. (Really?) Yeah. (Cool.)   

Chantel came over and complained that the dress was not supposed to have a bra with it and the straps on my shoulders looked stupid. She told me to take off my bra and panties for the next outfits. (Did you?) No. But she kept insisting. “Don’t you w’ont yo’ man to get all turned on when he sees ya’? Wha’t ya’ afraid o’, girl? I’ll sho’ya’ how to dress like a ‘hoe, girl. He will die when he see yo’ ass!” And she kept getting louder and louder, and a few women started to notice and laugh a little.

So finally I gave in. (What did you do?) Dumb-ass, I took my bra and panties off. But there were no place to put them, and I didn’t want to leave them on the ground. Then Chantel says, “Yo, girl, let me hold ‘dem fo’ ya’!” (Oh-oh) Yeah, oh-oh, I knew something was up with that but I still didn’t want them on the ground, or everyone looking at them. (What did the carpet look like?) Carpet? How about dirty cement. (What about your purse?) Oh, she was holding that for me, I couldn’t take it in the dressing room. I rolled them into a ball and gave them to her and she stuck them in my purse.

Then she handed me a pair of shorts, but they were about two sizes too big. I told her that but she said I should still try them on. (Too big, why?) I just thought she picked the wrong size, but I was wrong. What it did do was make my ass hang out the back and I had to be careful how I moved because you could see my . . . (pussy?) … well, yeah. (What!) If I didn’t keep my legs closed you could see straight up. (Shit!)

Next, she threw a bright yellow and black striped tube top to me. It was awful. But I tried it on. “Come ‘on girl, let’s see ya’.” She chided. So, reluctantly, I came out. Kind of nervous and embarrassed. God was I showing some skin. (Baby, …I…) Everyone looked at me. “Turn around, let’s see”, she said. So, I turned around once or twice, noticing the eyes on me in the store. (Men or women?) Both. (Did they think you were some kind of slut.) Oh, yeah.

“Ya’ know wha’ ya’ need, ya’ need some color”, she said. And she took a bottle of 99 cent nail polish. (What color?) Like you have to guess, what is your favorite color? (Whore red) Yep. (No) Yes. (Worse than the color we picked out.) Oh,yeah, worse. The one we picked out was a nice deep color, this was a cheap looking color. (Did you put it on?) No. She put it on for me, talking the whole time how different I looked. (Just your finger nails?) No, my toe nails too. (Gods, you must have looked slutty.) Oh, you would have gotten hard.

(Did you get that outfit?) No. She had me try on a few more. She had me try on three more tube tops. (Did you get one?) Yep. (What color?) Do you have to guess? (Red) Oh, a deep red.

(What else?) Well, I tried on a few spaghetti-strap tops, those were really bad. (A good bad or a bad bad) A bad bad. Then I tried on two halter tops, those stunk. And then she found some used wife beater shirts. (Really) Yeah, they looked just like the ones she always wears. (What did she say?) Oh, that I looked good.

But something was still missing, she told me. So, while I was changing clothes, she was digging through a table of jewelry. (Oh, some expensive classy stuff.) In this store, no. It was cheap stuff, you know, big necklaces, oversized hoop earrings, and . . . (A bling bling) . . . how did you know. (I was just kidding.) Well, I got one. (No) Yes. (What does it say?) Guess. (Um, how about dirty white slut.) You’re close, keep guessing. (Slut) No, think what you like to make me do. (That doesn’t narrow it down any.) What’s your favorite? (Make you crawl?) And … (Bitch) …yep. (What!) Yep, a nice diamond studded BITCH bling bling. (Wow) And some red plastic hoop earrings. (Classy) Oh, yeah.

Then she found some neck-less, sleeveless, half shirts. (Oh oh) God, you could see my tits and my nipples sticking out. (Uh, …) And then she got me some shorts that were so short, and cut up the sides, I’ve never worn something like that before. (Like what?) Like, shorts that were so low and so short that my ass and …you know… hung out. (I …) And I was wearing some used wife beater shirt, red hoop earrings and that cheap red nail polish on my hands and feet. And the pumps. (Pumps) Yeah, she found some street walker pumps. It was hard to stand in them. (How did you look?) She didn’t want me to see the mirror, she wanted to keep it for a surprise.

Well, it was time for us to leave, and I looked around the dressing room and my clothes were gone. (Huh) Yeah, so I asked her if she saw them and she said yes, she put them in my purse, so I wouldn’t lose them or they got stolen. Then she said, “OK, let’s go”. (What) Yeah, she wanted me to leave the store dressed like that. (Uh uh) Yeah. I said hell no, there is no way I’m walking around like that. Chantel said something like, “Wha’s wrong, girl. Yo’ look fine. Didn’t kno’ ya’ had it in ya’”.  And I kept protesting and she kept walking to the front of the store to the checkout counter. (Did she get something, too?) Yeah, she found some slut shirts. I tried to call her but she just walked off, leaving me standing there hiding behind the dressing room door.

(What did you do?) Well, I had one choice. She had my purse, my wallet, my car keys, and my clothes. So, I went up to the checkouts. (What happened?) It was a bit of a show. Everyone looked at me. The men were looking at me up and down, and the girls were giving me that, “Oh, you are a slut” look. (How many white people were in the store?) Counting me, one. And they were all staring at me. (Did you get nervous?) Yeah, I could feel the heat in my face and then I looked down. (Nipples) Yeah, they were rock hard and poking out through the shirt. (Could you see them?) From a few yards away. (The only pink nipples in the store.) Yeah. (That’s my girl.)

(What did Chantel say?) She said I looked hot, and she was proud of me for going the “distance” and getting them. (So you bought them?) Yeah, and a few shorts and tops. (How much?) For everything, about $30. (Expensive stuff?) Oh yeah. When I paid, the checkout girl gave me that look. (What look?) That “you are a slut” look. (Cool).

Then we went outside, and that was worse. (Why?) Because it was another hot day and the sun was really shining down. And I could see straight through my shirt and see my nipples. (Wait. What were you wearing again?) A wife beater, non-existent shorts, pumps and hoop earrings…oh and the bling bling. (A BITCH bling bling?) Yeah. (What was she wearing?) Basically the same, without the BITCH bling bling. (And you two came strutting out of the store together, side by side?) Yeah. (And you could see both of your tits and ass?) Yeah. You would have gone crazy.

I can’t tell you how much of a cheap slut I felt like, walking around dressed like that. (Oh baby, …) And everyone in the parking lot was looking at us and they were saying things. (Like what?) Like, “Oh, look at ‘dos sexy bitches. Shit! Look at those titties!” And things like that. (How did you feel?) Scared. Embarrassed. And hot. (Like turned on?) No. Like hot. It was about 100 degrees that day.

I was sweating before we got back to the car. All I could think of is what you would do or say if you were there. (huh) I would love to see the expression on your face if you saw us walking toward the car. (Tell me) Oh, come on. Me dressed up like some ghetto whore, next to sexy black girl with her tits bouncing all around, and we were both sweating, and in matching wife beaters and we got into the same car. And you know my A/C is out. (Still?) Yeah, so it was even hotter in the car. And you know what happens when you get a white shirt wet?

Hello? Are you listening to me? All I hear is static. (I’m here…I…) Are you playing with yourself. (Well…) Just think. You could be here too if you would get your ass back home. (Baby…) Only for you, I would walk around dressed like a hooker. And you aren’t even here to see it. (Did you take any pics?) Oh, no. You are going have to come back and see for yourself. (No…that’s not fair…) It’s not fair you are so far away for so long, is it?

Oh, wait. I did take some pics. Well, she did. (When?) While we were driving and stopped at the red light she said something like, “Girl, I got a surprise for ya’”. (Oh-oh) She took some pics. (When?) When I was changing clothes. (I thought you said she didn’t bring her cell phone.) Well she did. Because she got a call and she answered it. Then she showed them to me. Well, she held the phone in her hand and showed me. (What were they?) She took about five. And they showed me changing in the dressing room. (Could you see anything?) No. Just my back and part of my ass. But there is a pic of two black boys peeking in at me. (Really?) Yeah. Kind of pissed me off, but she just laughed it away. “Girl, he will love ‘em”.

But, my gas was really low. (How low?) So low that I didn’t think we could make it back. So I had to stop to get some gas. (No way. Dressed like that?) Yeah. She said she knew a really cheap gas place. I really didn’t want to go to the Chevron by the house or the 7-11. (Yeah, what if someone you know saw you!) I would die. “It’s jus’ over ‘der”. She told me. And we took a few turns to a really small gas station and food store. (Which one?) It’s about a block off Highway 49, in North Gulfport. (Oh, down in it) Oh, yeah.

We pulled up and I looked around. (All black?) Yeah. The engine kind of shuddered a little when I turned it off. And I asked her if she would go in and pay. She just looked at me and rolled her eyes, “Girl, what’s wrong wit’ ya’. Jus’ go in ‘der and pay fo’ ya’ gas. Wha’ ‘cha afraid ov. Ya’ look hot girl. Go sho’ if off a little. OK. If it makes ya’ feel betta’. This is ma cousin’s sto’”. I asked her if she would go in with me, since they were all family and she conceded.

But I don’t know if that was a good or a bad idea. (Why?) Well, if I ran in and paid, it would have been a really quick thing. Run in, pay and run out. But, she has to take her time. And when the guys started to “hoot-and-holler” at us, she had to slow down and put more twist to her hip when she walked. Then she had to drop something, and bend slowly, way over, to pick it up. (Showing off her ass?) And tits. And I had to listen to a few more, “OH, what a fine white ‘hoe” comments. (Surprise)

(What was it like inside?) It was dark and dirty. (Was it empty?) In the middle of the afternoon, no. A few people buying stuff and the usual people sitting around and talking. (What happened when ya’ll walked in?) Everyone looked at us and the guy behind the counter said something like, “Chantel, wha’s up!” And then everyone started to talk and laugh. (About?) I don’t know, I can’t understand half of what they were saying. (Did anyone look at you?) Oh, hell yeah. One little boy just stood there staring at me. Then his older brother leaned over and whispered something in his ear and they both looked at me and laughed.

Well, I wanted to pay for the gas, but they just kept talking. And the crowd around the register kept getting bigger and bigger. And she has a loud mouth, and told everyone how she took her white friend down to Fashion Trends and “fixed her up good”. God, my face was red. She went over to the cooler and picked out two 40 oz. bottle of beer, opened them up and started to drink hers.

I tried to tell her I didn’t want one and she just laughed at me. And since she already opened them, we might as well drink them. I tried to tell her I don’t like to drink beer, especially cheap beer in the middle of the afternoon. But she got kind of upset over it. Saying how she was proud of me for going shopping but how she was disappointed in me. Something like, “Dress the dress, but not walk the walk”. And she kept it up, and started to say things like, “Wha’, ‘dis ain’t good enough fo’ ya’. What’s wrong with a little beer? Come on, I’m buying it. Ya’ too good for ‘dis”. And everyone was looking at me and I know what they were thinking. Oh, look at this white girl all dressed up like some black ‘hoe, but inside, she is just a spoiled white girl, up on her “I’m white and better than you” attitude.

So I drank mine. (Wait a second. You were drinking beer in the middle of the afternoon at a black gas station dressed like a ‘hoe? I don’t know what to say, it’s just so hard to believe) Well, believe it. I did it. I figured that if I drank mine, and quick, maybe we could get out of there earlier. But I was wrong. “How ‘bout another one?” She asked me. And by then, there were about six big guys standing there, flirting with her, drinking beer too. (Did they flirt with you?) Yes. But they must have know that they would get a lot farther with her, so they really flirted with her.

(Did you drink another?) No. I was feeling kind of buzzed already. And I started to talk and laugh a little. That is when two guys came over and gave us two beers. (Bottles?) No. Just two cans. I tried to say “no” but they gave them to us anyway. I told her I had to be getting back home. She asked me, “why”. And I just stammered some answer of having to clean, cook and do something on the computer. But she must have knew I was lying, because she said we’ll leave after our beers are done.

By the time we finished them, I had to pee real bad. (Did they have bathrooms?) Yes, but they were nasty. (How nasty?) You wouldn’t have gone in them. But I had to pee. So, I had to ask nicely for the bathroom key. (Nicely?) Yeah. They must have know I had to pee, because at first, they pretended they didn’t have one. The really fat guy behind the counter said, “If you ask me nice, I’ll give it to you.” And everyone laughed at that. And they listened, as I said, “Could I have the bathroom key?” And he looked at me, squinted his eyes and said, “Why?” I didn’t know to say, and I really had to pee by then. So I asked again, “I need to use your bathroom. Could I please have the key?” (Was it killing you?) Yeah, you know how much I hate to say “please” to anyone for anything.

He kind of laughed again, and I looked at Chantel and she looked at him and gave him a cross look. He looked back at her with that look of, “What-I’m-not-doing-anything-wrong”. I was feeling pretty tipsy then and I said, louder than I expected, “If I don’t get that key I’m going to pee allover your floor”. Well, that did it. (I bet it did.) Everyone’s eyes got big and everyone got quiet for a second. Then they all busted out laughing. “Whoo-eee, well, let me give ya’ ‘dat ‘ole key befo’ ‘dat happens.” And I grabbed it and ran out of the door.

(Where was it?) Around the back. It was just as dirty as the gas station and when I opened the door the smell hit me. (Bad?) Oh, like a out-house. And I haven’t smelled one of those since I was a kid. (Me either.) I thought I was going to gag. But I took a deep breath and went in. The light worked, and there was some toilet paper. (You didn’t sit on the toilet did you? Bob told me he caught crabs that way once.) No I didn’t. I put some toilet paper down first. And no, you don’t get crabs from sitting on a toilet, from sitting on some skank you can, but not a toilet.

When I got back inside, everyone was laughing and talking and when I walked in they went crazy. “So, you is a freaky bitch! Huh!” One black guy said to me. “Are all you white girls like ‘dat?” Another asked me. “Let me see ‘dat again.” Said a third to Chantel. And she showed him her cell phone. Oh my god, she was showing them the pics.

(Oh, shit) Yeah, that’s what I thought. I looked at her and she looked back and said, “Girl, I showed ‘dem ‘da pics of you showing off yo’ ass in the store.” I took a deep breath. Yes I was pissed she showed them without telling me, but I was so glad that she didn’t show them the other pics. “Well, my beer is gone. Are ya’ ready to go?” Instead of arguing with her about showing off the pics, I just said, yes, and quickly paid for the gas.

When we were walking out, I could feel them all watching us. (Especially your asses?) You know it. And if I head once, “White girl wit’ a big fine ass”, I heard it a dozen times.

That was the fastest I’ve ever pumped the gas, and when it got down to the last 20 cents, and started to go at a snails pace, I just turned it off and got back in the car. I have never felt so relived to be back in my car again.

I wanted to say something to Chantel about showing those pics to people, but she was talking on her cell phone the whole ride back. I kind of think, she was stalling for time or something.

While we were sitting there in traffic, by the light by Cowan Road, I looked in the rearview mirror and saw a glimpse of myself. God. My hair was all messed up. I was covered in sweat..(Sweaty thing)…it was hot and the beer. My makeup had smeared allover my eyes and face. And the hoop earrings were so ugly. I looked to my left and the guy in the passenger seat in the truck next to us was staring at us. (Staring?) Yeah, drooling, staring, mouth open. (Could he see down?) Yeah, and he was looking at our tits and legs. I would have pulled then to cover more of my legs if there was something to pull. (I can’t imagine what he was thinking.) I know, look at those two sluts. (Goddamn, a white and black slut, sweating in a car together.) No A/C. (Oh, that is even better, for sure, not rich white and black sluts.) And we were all sweaty and half naked. (Damn it….) And you are missing it all.

We finally made it back, and I swear every guy in a truck or van that could see into my car was staring at us. (Did Chantel notice?) No. She is used to people staring at her, I think. I was about to relax, until we pulled into the trailer park. (?) Everyone in the park was outside. What the hell they were all doing, I don’t know. But everyone was outside.

Now I had a little panic attack. Do I drop her off, drive around a while and wait for everyone to go inside? Or do I just pull up and get out of the car? Everyone will see me dressed like a slut. But if I drive around, the car could stall, or I could be in a wreck. And it was too hot to be driving around.

I drove as slow as I could to the trailer. She acted like she didn’t notice how slow I was driving, but she glanced over at the speedometer, and I knew. She knew what I was doing. But she kept talking, acting oblivious to my panic. The neighbors across the street waved to us, and she waved back. So did one of the small black children riding bikes around.

I couldn’t get out of the car dressed like this. I could never live it down. What could I say?

And the whole drive over, she was watching me. (For what?) I don’t know, well, I didn’t know. But we pulled up to the front of my trailer, and I sat there and I just couldn’t turn off the car engine. If I did that, I would commit to getting out of the car and practically flashing the whole neighborhood, at the same time.

But it was so hot in the car. The sun was burning, I was sweating and still a little tipsy by then. I was hoping she would get out and I could run inside, or maybe just leave and come back later. But she stayed in the car, talking on her cell phone. (Was she sweating, too?) Oh, yeah, but not as much as me. I looked like I took a shower.

Finally I said something like, excuse me, but are we getting out. And said something like, “Hang on Lequisha, wha’ ‘cha wont?” And I asked her again if we were getting out. “Wha’ ‘cha ya’ waiting fo’. Get ya’ ass out.” And she sat there talking on her cell phone. After a few more sweaty seconds, and it was getting hotter and hotter, she said, “I got ta’ go. I’ll call ya’ later, word.” And she looked at me, with a really strange expression on her face.

She was looking at me, right in the eyes…oh-oh, Kelly just pulled up. And she has Mike with her. (Do you got to go?) Yeah, I sent her up to the store to get some stuff for our BBQ tomorrow. (BBQ?) Yeah, something else you will miss. Just think. A nice big BBQ, then you can smoke and relax, and I could suck your cock. (Baby…that sounds so good…when…) And then you could pass out in the back room, I’d turn up the A/C. (Then I could wake up and do it all over again?) Yeah. Hang-on. What! OK! I’ll be right there.

She needs some help with the groceries. I got to go. (Wait! What happened?) Well, I could have told you if you didn’t keep asking stupid questions. Your fault. (Wait! Did you do anything else?) Yep. (Can…you call back later when you are done with the groceries?) I’ll try. But I might not be able. (Can I call you tonight?) Your tonight or my tonight? (My tomorrow morning and your tomorrow night.) OK. (So, ya’ll really did some more stuff?) Oh yeah. (I’m calling.) I’ll be here. Wait a second…what…I’ll be right there. I got to go now. (Talk to you tonight. Love you, baby.) Love you, too. And I need it so bad. (Baby, so do I. It’s so hard. It will be hard until we talk tonight. Can we play a little?) I don’t know. Kelly and her friends may be here tonight. (Well, they could be so noisy they might not hear you moaning and groaning in the back room.) Well, see…I’ll be right there…talk to you tonight. (Bye, baby.)