His knees were shaking by the time her finally reached her apartment, he struggled to catch his breath. Clutched in his left hand was his high heels, he had kicked them off and started to run shortly after his encounter with the hobo. Timidly, he knocked on her door, but after a few minutes of no answer, he decided that she wasn't home. Vicky was about to collapse onto the welcome mat when he remembered that she had given him a key, it was on the necklace he always kept around his neck since he was always losing things.
He trudged in and tossed the heels off to the side, too tired to care if Nicole became pissed with him. Maybe he could take a quick bath before she got back. His feet were caked with dirt, with gravel digging into the bed of his feet. From the back room he heard screaming, it sounded like it may be Nicole. Someone or something could be hurting her. Victor stealthily edged towards the room after he plucked a knife from the kitchen counter.
*****
He hunched down with the knife firmly in his grip and nudged the door open. As he first walked in, he wondered if had the wrong apartment, the room was scented with the musky perfume of sex. Hovering over the bed was a slender but muscular chocolaty man. He also the wriggling flashes of creamy pink and white flesh. Strands of the ginger hair burning under the lights, it was Nicole all right. Victor also noticed her delighted expression.
"NiβNicole, what's going on?" He finally stammered.
Her eyes glazed over as she smirked with him, "This is how a real man fucks, Vicky."
Humiliation washed over him and with that said, he dropped to his knees, "What would you have of me Mistress?"
*****