It was seven when Phoebe walked out on the dark mid-November streets of Detroit. A cold river chill encircled her, making her to hurry and close the ankle length brown coat, and pull her cheap thick wool hat on her head with her matching gloves over her hands. Her job was a block away from Cadillac Square. The walk did her well. She walked past the Renaissance Center, the Millender Center, then to Cadillac where all the buses came. Well most of them. She could catch the Gratiot straight home. It dropped her off at the corner of Grinnell on the east side and her mother’s house was on the corner from the bus stop.
Phoebe hurried along down Jefferson to get to the bus stop. Detroit was on the brink of exploding into a world-class city. With the casino’s coming into town, and General Motors moving into the Renaissance Center, the city was making changes.
With this in mind, Phoebe often saw limousines in the nightlife of Detroit of visitors to the city or citizens of the city living it up. Parties, business functions, and even just casino runs often drew these people who loved to spend their money on absolutely nothing in Phoebe’s opinion who could use the money to pay off her own debts her ex-husband had run up.
She had come to ignore the fancy cars and limousines that drove by or pulled up beside her and keep walking, yet when one came to a stop next to her as she was waiting for a red light, then didn’t moved even when the light turned green, she gave the back window a very grim frown then sighed tiredly. ‘Probably a little teenager showing off to his friends with his rich daddy’s money,’ she assumed. Phoebe really didn’t care. Men being attracted to her no matter what age, race or financial status at this point in her life didn’t matter to her anymore. She didn’t want to be bothered by them at all.
The limousine finally turned just as the light turned from yellow to red. She proceeded on to Cadillac Square not giving the limousine another thought.
The well-dressed three men sitting in the chamber of the limousine all were silent. Different thoughts running through all their heads, but one was able to read the most troubled man’s thoughts. All were quite handsome and very successful in their own rights.
“What was that about? Did you know her?” Desmond White asked his friend from inside the limousine as it drove on to the Renaissance Center. They would be staying in the hotel for the night.
Lawrence Ripley, Jacoby Walter’s best friend and blood brother, chuckled to himself knowing full well what was going through Jacoby’s head. Earlier in the night when the dates Desmond had promised to bring them from out of town had fallen through, and then Lawrence was unable to get suitable overnight dates for them, Jacoby had been pretty pissed off or probably just horny.
“Aren’t there any good women anymore who just want a one night stand?” Lawrence had said. “Makes me want to stop the next women on the street and offer her five hundred dollars just to get some pussy.”
Desmond, who was always the consciences one in the bunch, said, “With the diseases going around and the needs of women changing you can’t expect a good one anymore.”
“I’m willing to bet I can buy a good one,” Jacoby announced, who loved to gamble. He hated to sleep alone and it really wasn’t sleep he wanted either. The way he was feeling he would spend a whole grand to get a good woman underneath him. Damn, he wished he were back in Lansing about now where he had a woman just waiting for him to call her. It was a simple arrangement he had there. He could just go over her house, make love to her and leave. They didn’t have to speak, and they didn’t have to stay the whole night if he didn’t want it. No strings-attached was their relationship and neither discussed it any further.
Desmond changed the topic to business to ease the tension. Hell what did Desmond care, he was about to get married. Something Jacoby at thirty-three had longed for, but was too damn picky and selfish to do it. The woman was either too dumb or just couldn’t satisfy all his needs.
Sheryl Cobb, Desmond’s fiancée was perfect for Desmond. She was so together and they made a perfect couple.
Jacoby couldn’t find one like that. He seemed to only attract the ones that were interested in joining bank accounts with him. He never had real chances to get out. He was usually always doing business. The woman he slept with whenever he felt the need or she called him up for a good time was about the only woman right now in his life and he had no real feelings about their relationship. She provided a way for him to release himself with any hassles. He didn’t want anything more with her. True she was an older woman, but he knew he would probably never find a younger woman who would want an arrangement like the one he had with his older woman.
The limousine finally arrived at the hotel and let them out. Horny and tired, Jacoby went quietly to his
room mumbling a goodnight to his friends, who had opted to stop in at the bar near the lobby of the hotel.
Why was that woman standing alone on the corner? What had made him pay attention to her? Even though he hadn’t got a very good look at her face, she looked a little over twenty-five, attractive, voluptuous in the right places and… Something. He couldn’t put his finger on it.
Her stockings. No, not stockings – Tights. He hadn’t seen a grown woman wear white tights. It seemed so little girlish, innocent, and somehow sexually arousing? Strange for Jacoby to note something like that.
Jacoby then thought Desmond would have had a cow if he had offered that respectable woman some money for a night a pleasure.
After a cold shower, he laid in bed staring up at the wall too horny to sleep. Just as he decided to flick on the television to watch infomercials, his phone rung
“Why didn’t you do it?” Lawrence asked on the other end.
Jacoby chortled. He should have known Lawrence would be poking around in his head. The best friends knew each other like the back of their own hands. “Because it wouldn’t have been fair to you. She didn’t have any friends with her and I definitely didn’t feel like sharing tonight. I wanted something all to myself.” Lawrence joined in on the amusement. “I just had to ask.”
“Hey, if it’s fate, I’ll see her again then I’ll know next time what to do,” Jacoby teased, knowing he’d never see her again. “Tonight I’ll nut off.”
“See you in the morning,” Lawrence forced out through his laughter.
After hanging up the phone, he seriously thought about it, and then went to the bathroom to get his washcloth. Making the room dark, he calmed himself and pictured her face on a thick fully breasted body riding naked on him. She threw her head back and moaned those sweet helpless high-pitched moans of pleasure licking her lips.
She knew just how to ride him too – real slow. Gripping him tight, leaning over so her large nipples hung over his mouth and he suckled them as if they were the last ones he would ever have. He could feel himself getting closer so he rolled her over never missing a stroke and pounded his body against her. She took his large thick member deep inside her, loving every last long thick stroke. Her juices surrounded him, her heat enveloped him, and she begged for him to fill her with himself.
“Sweet honey,” he whispered as he erupted deep inside of her.
* * * *
When his heartbeat returned to almost normal and he had gathered his wits, physically he felt just tired, emotionally he still felt unfulfilled. In order to satisfy that need he knew he needed the foreplay and the sigh of pleasure he would hear from the female after it was over.
Yet amazingly, all through his fantasy he had focused on one face – that woman standing on the corner. Usually he wouldn’t concentrate on the face. Hell in some of these fantasy episodes, he did twenty different women. Why had he concentrated so hard on keeping the face the same? He could have some unfulfilled fantasy about really having sex with a strange respectable woman.
It didn’t matter, Jacoby told himself as he shrugged it off, using the washcloth to clean himself. It didn’t matter at all. Even if she was here, he would be done with her then ask her to leave. He couldn’t imagine sleeping with just anyone. He didn’t trust any woman enough to actually go to sleep with them beside him. They either wanted to rob him through the night or think he wanted to marry them in the morning.
Women always wanted something for a piece of their pearls. Whether it was money or a wedding ring, no one just gave it away anymore. He didn’t want a free ride, but why couldn’t it be his decision on what to give them instead of them making the decisions?
He slept soundly. Tomorrow Jacoby would visit with Lawrence in his Detroit office. Lawrence was vice president of a small firm with two offices in Lansing and Detroit. Lawrence took care of the computer side of operations of the business selling software and hardware, while his cousin took care of the other part like the customers and employees. Lawrence wasn’t a very personable person. Matter of fact, the only person who could put up with him was Jacoby. Everyone else called him an anal jerk. Lawrence was also going to meet a client in Detroit about restoring a computer’s software they had installed a while ago, but the server had been struck and now the software wasn’t acting correctly.
Desmond had offered to accompany them, not to meet with the clients, but to find Sheryl a nice gift. While Lawrence and Jacoby were meeting with the client, Desmond would be out shopping.
Deceptive Nights – Chapter 2 (c) 2005 Sylvia Hubbard