Contrast by Whitcomb Ian Saul

Contrast by Whitcomb Ian Saul

Author:Whitcomb, Ian Saul
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-09-28T00:00:00+00:00


Her

Car sex in a dark parking garage Wednesday. More bathroom sex Thursday – and he really does get a “closed for repairs sign” so we can fuck in front of the mirrors, with my tits hanging out and way more noise than we ought to make. The store calls me for an extra shift Friday night, and I can’t turn it down because there’s a copay on the birth-control prescription, which I got by showing up early Thursday to one of the gynecologists’ offices at our hookup spot. Saturday morning he’s got some thing he can’t get out of, Saturday afternoon I shop with Niza, then we hang at my place a while. Thankfully, she’s going on a date that night and takes off around four o’clock.

Soon as she’s out the door, I get my phone and hit “Fuck-Man” on my favorites. He answers on the first ring.

“Hey,” he says. I can’t tell from the connection whether it’s a casual “hey” or a damn-I-want-to-bone-you “hey,” but I want to think he’s been sitting there with his phone out, waiting.

“My thing is done,” I tell him. “Is your thing done?”

“Bitch, my thing is so done.”

I guess it was a damn-I-want-to-bone-you “hey” after all.

“You want to get over here?”

“Would it be creepy if I said I was already waiting at the coffee shop around the corner?”

“Yes. Are you?”

“Yes.”

“Next time, wait in my parking lot. If you’re gonna be creepy, go all in. Now hang up and get your ass to my place and your dick inside me.”

Beep. The line goes dead. I’m glad, because I’m breathing so hard, no way was I going to be able to keep sounding like I had it together.

I spent the whole shift last night wondering if I’d have the guts to ask him his name today. I spent the whole morning masturbating and imagining him calling mine out with his cock going off inside me. I spent the whole afternoon with Niza wondering how she’d react if she knew I hadn’t told her a guy was coming over to fuck me the minute she walked out the door.

She’s been on me so hard to find a man, maybe after she got done throwing a fit, she’d be happy for me. Yeah, maybe. Until she found out he was a white guy. Then she’d totally wig, and after she settled down, there’d be that look in her eyes, the same one from when she first showed up at the Hilliards’ place. The “go-to-hell-because-I-do-not-trust-anybody-in-the-whole-fucking-world” look. The “they-said-they-were-putting-me-somewhere-I’d-be-safe-those-goddamnshit-bastards-and-now-they’re-putting-me-somewhere-else-and-saying-it-again-so-fuck-you-if-you-think-I’m-listening-to-a-goddamn-word-you-say” look. It took three months sharing a bedroom and talking to her every day to get that look to mostly go away, and a year and a half and us graduating and leaving the foster program and me still sticking by her for it to finally disappear. I do not want to see that look again.

But when the knock comes barely a minute after I call him, I stop worrying.

I want what’s on the other side of that door – and if Niza won’t let me have what I want, it’s time for her to grow up.



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