“Fine,” he comments and rapidly continues to tuck his shirt into his pants and zip them. He reaches down and picks up his torn undershirt and stuffs it into his trouser pocket. I find my ripped lace thong in the corner and put it into my purse. The lobby bell dings. Bishop and I give each other one last smile as he stands overtop the wet spot we created on the carpet. The door opens and there stands the nosey lady. Bishop extends his hand in a gentlemanly fashion signaling me to exit first. I walk past the nosey woman and I hear Bishop say, “Ms. Claire, how are you today?” She doesn’t answer him but informs him that his shirt buttons are crooked.
“Thank you, Ms. Claire. I hadn’t noticed.”
The lady steps onto the elevator and I briefly see her sniff the air and frown at the spot on the carpet. She raises her hand to catch Bishop’s attention, but he ignores her and the door closes. He quickly catches up with me before I journey to the parking garage.
“Connie, wait. Where are you going?”
“To find the closest store to buy some new panties,” I whisper with a smile.
“Word. Okay, well, um, I’ll talk with you later.”
“Okay.”
I watch Bishop head in the direction of the café and I continue to exit the lobby.
The workday ends without me seeing Bishop again, but my kitty cat constantly reminds me of him. With his girth and that vertical position, he tore me a little. Every time I go to the bathroom, a slight stinging sensation occurs at the beginning of my perineum. My pussy hasn’t been stretched out like this in a long time. It’s only seen the action of Keith’s undersized pecker for a year.
***
At home, Keith is waiting as usual. He generally arrives first because his commute is shorter and he doesn’t have to deal with the damn freeway traffic. I hate my commute. I could buy a new Prada bag every month with the amount of money I burn in gas. I’m glad Keith is good for something more than sex. After paying bills, investing ten percent of my paycheck, and setting aside my emergency funds, there’s not much left for anything extra. I gotta admit I like how Keith allows me to save my money and spend his. That might be wrong, but hell, he can afford it.
“Hey, baby. How was your day?”
“Fine. I had an unexpected meeting that went very well. I’m worn out from it. I think I’ll skip dinner and go to bed.”
“Mind if I join you?”
Hell yeah, I scream in my mind. I don’t want Keith messing up Bishop’s staying power. I want the essence of Bishop’s sex to linger with me until I’m ready to wash him away. But I gotta do the right thing.
“I’ll wait for you upstairs, sweetie,” I reply to Keith in my platinum princess voice that he’s accustomed to hearing. Damn, so much for letting my encounter with Bishop marinate.
***
I perfectly time my arrival at the office on Wednesday.
“Miss Connie, how are you today?” His delectable voice sends chills down my spine as we board the elevator with the others. I purposely stand across from Bishop to eye him face to face. He’s so handsome, chiseled jaw line, soft-shadow beard, pearly whites, and cleft chin. My hot zone begins to throb as I think about what he’s packin’.
“Other than dealing with my commute, I’m fine, Bishop. Thanks for asking.”
“Heavy schedule today?” he wants to know.
“Not really. Just some contracts to review and have ready for my manager when she returns next week on Monday.” I lie because I suspect he wants to do something today.
“Wonderful. I need your expertise to go over a bid that has some serious financials. Are you available at ten this morning?”
Check him out, trying to sound legit in front of everyone. I think it’s cute.
“Sure. I’ll meet you in the conference room on your floor.”
“Ten o’clock, it is,” he confirms.
Yes! I know his cock is crying out for my moist box. He likes my deep cavity and my hot box needs more exercise.
I watch his sexy body exit onto the fifteenth floor with a couple of other people. I grin at the other four people journeying with me and snicker to myself. If only they knew what I’m thinking. That’s right, in what position will I mount Bishop’s pole at ten o’clock? I exit at the thirty-fifth floor, rush to my desk, and utilize the first two hours of my morning to get as much done as possible. I know our ten o’clock meeting is going to take some time.
“Press fifteen, please,” I say to the man next to the el
evator numbers. Damn, we’re stopping at almost every floor. It kills me when people take the elevator to go to the next floor. Take the damn stairs, you lazy ass. If only I could really say that shit. Finally, I exit the fifteenth floor. I approach the receptionist behind the glass doors that read “Clark and Howard International, Inc. Accounting Department.”