She walked away saying, “Brendan, you should control yourself better. You were jacking off in your sleep.”
One-Hour Proof
Asali
CHAPTER 1
I loved my job. Not that it was the most glamorous or prestigious work, but the people who came in were almost always in a good mood. Usually they had just come back from vacation, a family function, witnessing the birth of their newborn, or some type of memorable celebration. I helped them create tangible memories of those milestones in their lives. Here they could pick out frames, have photos matted, create cards, and receive their pictures in an hour. It wasn’t hard work; computers performed the majority and I just packaged the items and assisted the customers with picking from available options. Most times they were in and out; everyone likes things done fast in this world. Sometimes they wanted life-sized cutouts or personalized gifts, which took a bit longer but customers were always grateful and satisfied with their purchases. For the occasional mishap with our machine or their camera, the customer always had the option not to buy the finished product. Happiness, one hundred percent guaranteed.
Cute kids, handsome couples, damage for insurance claims, sunny resorts, sexy shots taken for a love; I’d seen them all. I got to be a distant voyeur into the lives of other people. During the holiday season everyone wanted to have their memories from family events printed to share before leaving town, to print customized calendars for the upcoming year, or have Christmas gifts made using photos. So we were busy as heck and it had been a long day. I was on a double shift because someone called in sick again. If I had known I would be called for an extra shift, I wouldn’t have spent my night clubbing into the early morning hours. My plan was to run outside to my car and nap during my hour-long lunch break. As sleepy as I was, I’m not sure which was worse, being tired or the lingering odor of cheap cologne left by my last customer. I’d been sneezing almost constantly for ten minutes since he’d left.
A beautiful black woman with long dreadlocks walked up to my counter as I wiped my nose for the hundredth time. She wore multiple layers of clothing but still hugged herself as if she were cold or trying to keep herself from falling apart. She wore no makeup on her clear, unblemished skin. That made her even more beautiful to stare at. Her perfectly arched brows, cute button nose, and flawlessly shaped full lips were the kind people paid for. At least five inches taller than me, she could have been a model if she hadn’t been extra curvy in all the right places.
“Hello, how can I help you?” I asked, wearing my counter smile while stifling another sneeze.
She handed over a flash drive. “Can you print out the pictures on here for me?”
“Do you know the name of the folder that the images are in?” I attempted to look into her downcast eyes.
“They’re the only files on there, so just print all of them, please.” She stroked the tattoo on her left ring finger.
I gestured toward the media viewer. “How many prints of each image would you like, or would you rather look at the machine and pick your quantities and size based on the image?”
“No thanks, one of each will be all I need.” Finally, she looked up and made eye contact; her eyes were filled with sadness and tears.
I immediately looked away and felt guilty for bothering her with pointless questions.
“Okay, can you fill out this sheet with your information? There are only a couple of quick jobs before yours and then I’ll process your photos. It shouldn’t take long.”
I slid the blue order form across the counter to her.
With trembling hands, she filled out her information. I mentally took note of the name K. Miller written at the top of the form.
“Thank you,” she said as she walked away with her arms tightly wrapped around her body again.
The temperature outside must have really dropped since I’ve been in here, I thought to myself while watching her walk out of the store. I straightened the counter, quickly put things back in place around
the store, processed and packaged two print jobs, and then loaded the trembling woman’s flash drive to print. Curious, I walked around the machine to the other side to see what the digital images revealed. Although the pictures were different, the frame and background were all the same, which piqued my curiosity even more. The developer shot out the pictures in rapid succession. The focal point of each frame was a large wooden sleigh bed with white bedding. On the wall above the bed the phrase TWO HEARTS, TWO LIVES, ONE LOVE was stenciled. On the left nightstand beside the bed sat a framed picture of K. Miller, but only a part of the picture showed. The other piece of the picture was out of view from the camera.
I could see the light in the room must have changed because at first the walls in the room appeared very light blue with rays of sunlight streaming in. As the pictures progressed it was as if I were watching time go by. I couldn’t see the sunrays anymore and the walls appeared a darker blue.
Just as I’d begun to wonder why someone would want pictures of a room, a man and woman entered the frame. She had big loose curls in her auburn-colored hair and looked very short standing next to the tall man. I couldn’t pinpoint her ethnicity—she could have been Hispanic, a light-complexioned African-American, or an olive-hued Caucasian, but he was definitely black. Now I could see that there was actually a bit of a time lapse between pictures. They were standing and kissing, then undressing while touching, then pulling the comforter and pillows from the bed, and then there was picture after picture of their bodies entwined in different positions. First she lay spread eagle with his head between her legs, then he stood at the side of the bed with her lying across it with her head upside down, out of the picture, but obviously feeding on his lingam. Next she was on top, then he was on top, and then he was behind her, and finally they lay spooning each other. The whole time I admired their bodies and watched the expressions on their faces, getting more and more turned on. I could see the beautiful mauve-colored areolas on her small, perky breasts, her curvy hips, and chin-length curls that seemed to move constantly. At times they were swept back off her face, at others they camouflaged one eye or the other eye, and a time or two they fell completely forward, covering her entire face.
He was ebony and covered with sinuous muscles. Completely bald with a neatly trimmed goatee, he bore a strong resemblance to the actor Morris Chestnut. He had a bright smile and seemed to get pleasure with every action. Right then, the store doors opened and my manager, Mr. Tim, walked in. Quickly, I walked away from the processor to fill him in on the day’s happenings and to conceal the fact that I’d been looking through a customer’s pictures. Invading the customer’s privacy was frowned upon; we were told to look only at the quality of the pictures, not the content. Afterward, I walked over to the machine and packaged the job for pickup. There were at least two hundred photos and I couldn’t get the ones I’d seen out of my mind as I walked to my car, ready and anxious for my nap.
CHAPTER 2
Inside my car, I put my windshield sunshade in place to keep anyone passing by from staring at me. Wrapped in my Snuggie that I kept in my car specifically for this purpose, I was snug as a bug. It wasn’t as cold as I thought but I wanted to be comfortable without needing to turn the car on to run the heater. I reclined my seat back as far as it would go and set the timer on my phone to wake me up. My Altima was a far cry from being in my comfortable bed at home, but it would have to do. It didn’t take long for my heavy eyelids to fall and take me to dreamland.
It was as if I was in the room with them. She was standing next to him wearing only her black lace panties and bra, holding him around the waist. His massive hands were cupping her butt cheeks while he bent to kiss her. His colossal tool was barely concealed by the white boxer briefs he wore. It looked ready to jump and attack its victim at any second. They both lightly moaned as they kissed, taking pleasure in the contact and probably anticipating what was to come. I could smell their scent, like pheromones spreading in the air, arousing anyone who came in contact with it. My own nipples hardened against the fabric of my bra. They finished undressing, throwing their undergarments to the floor hurriedly.
They stared at each other’s body in delight. Using their hands to outline their bodies, they each sporadically put kisses to their lover’s flesh along the way. I watched them and began throbbing. She held his manhood between her petite hands and worked it up and down. Smiling all the while, he watched and moaned while she moved her hands in a quick rhythm. She bent to kiss the wet shiny tip and coated her lips with the juice.
“Get on the bed,” he said, finally speaking.
“Wait a second; I want to pull these off. I’ll just leave the fitted sheet on,” she replied in her high-pitched voice.
He helped her yank the top layers of bedding hastily to the floor.