The Heat Seekers

“Yes.” She is not even fooling me, Geren thought to himself. He knew Tempest was the typical woman and loved presents just as much as the next one. “Of course I bought you something.”

“Where is it?” Tempest demanded to know. She jumped from the sofa butt-naked, having long gotten over any inhibitions she had around him.

Geren laughed and waved his index finger back and forth in front of her face. “Uh-uh-uh, you have to find it.”

“Aw, come on. No fair!” Tempest protested, pushing her bottom lip out as far as it could possibly go.

“I’ll give you a clue.”

“A clue?” Tempest rolled her eyes. “Why a clue? Just tell me where it is, you silly goose.”

“If you take fifteen s

teps forward from the front door, take forty steps to your left, and then twelve steps backward, where would you be?”

Tempest gawked at him in disbelief. His clue was downright ridiculous. “Hmm, how about another clue?”

Geren sat on the arm of the sofa and crossed his arms. “Okay, but just one more. If you don’t get it this time, too bad.”

“Okay!” Tempest reluctantly agreed.

Geren decided to go easy on her and let her off the hook. “It’s under your bed.”

Tempest took off speed-walking down the hall, tits swinging and all, to her bedroom. She got down on her knees and started looking under her bed. Geren, who had followed her, was enthralled by her bare ass bouncing up in the air. It made him horny all over again.

Tempest came back up with a box wrapped in African-American Santa Claus paper. “I see you pulled one of my numbers with the African-American Christmas stuff, huh?”

“Sure did,” Geren admitted. “Maybe your habits are rubbing off on me.”

Tempest smiled lovingly at him while she ripped the paper off the box and tore the lid off.

“Oh, my goodness!” Tempest exclaimed, pulling out an ugly-ass kaleidoscope jacket identical to the one Geren owned.

“You threw such a fit over my jacket the other night at Kmart that I decided to get you one just like it,” Geren stated with pride. He felt it was the perfect gift for her.

“Thanks, baby,” Tempest said, still in shock. She had no intention of wearing that jacket out in public, but that was the least of her problems at the moment. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Try it on,” Geren insisted. “I want to make sure it fits.”

“Okay.”

Tempest let Geren hold the jacket open for her while she slipped her arms in. While comfortable, it was still ugly as all hell.

“I love it!” Tempest lied. “Thank you, baby!”

“I knew you would, and you’re welcome.”

“Umm, listen,” Tempest whispered, a nervous wreck in the making. “I haven’t gotten your present yet. I had to special-order it, and it won’t be ready until Monday. I’ll pick it up then.”

“That’s strange.” Geren stared at her suspiciously. “Real strange.”

“What is?”

“I could’ve sworn I saw a big present with my name on it in the bottom of your closet.”

Tempest clamped her eyes shut. Damn, damn, damn, he saw it, she thought to herself. “Is that so?”

“Yes. Gold wrapping with African-American angels. Red bow. Sound familiar?”