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His voice came through the receiver and he said,
“Hey, baby.”
I greeted him back and glanced toward the window, expecting him to be standing right outside it. But he wasn’t there.
“Do you need a guy for the evening?” he asked.
I realized how strange it was and answered,
“Yes.”
It seemed that this time he was worth waiting for not by my window, but behind the door. I pressed the receiver tighter to my ear, so I could hear every breath he took, so I could feel him close to me and be ready for anything.
“Oh, baby, I need you,” his voice sounded inside my eardrums.
And I replied,
“I know,” because I need him too.
He wears all sorts of silver jewelry, velvet trousers, black boots, that kind of thing, and he has solid muscles. I imagine touching his muscles and making them explode in my hands.
“Baby, can you hear me?” but I don’t answer, because at that very second I lick my knuckles.
My knees were shaking and I squeezed my thighs together tightly.
“Good. Then at least I can hear you,” he said, and I hummed in response.
I met this man in Shasta, he was one of a kind. He has such glossy black hair, and I lift my ass. This is the best thing that has ever happened to me.
“Do you need me, baby?” I asked, staring at the ceiling.
“I love you, baby,” maybe I caught a hint of disappointment in his voice, but that only turned me on more.
“Do you want my pussy?” I was doomed.
“Oh yes, girl, I need you,” he lit a cigarette.
“Then come to Soul Train and find it,” I laughed.
“I lick your pussy whenever I want, baby,” he laughed back.
And at that moment I gasped when I realized that Johnny had been in my bathroom the whole time.