Hello again, diary. Last time we talked I had just met sexy film producer Derrick Sexton at the premiere of his film “Down and Dirty.” After a few rough moments we really hit it off and have been going at it hot and heavy ever since. Soon after that first explosive meeting Derrie asked me to move in with him, and after much creative persuasion I eventually said yes. I had never moved in with a man before—or had one move in with me. But a few months of frantic rushing back and forth between our respective residences before work and I was ready to set up house.
The momentous day finally arrived. I spent the night in the apartment so I’d be there when the movers arrived. It was a hot day and I’d asked the electric company to leave the power on so we could have air conditioning for moving out and for the maid while she cleaned out the place. Frustratingly the whole area lost power—a rolling blackout—even before the movers got there. I sent Eliana, our maid, home and told her to call my office tomorrow to make other arrangements for the final cleaning. As she was leaving the truck pulled in and three hunks in gray shirts with their names embroidered on them arrived.
The leader, a well-built ebony man called Reno, grabbed a roll of stickers and tossed a clipboard to a tall red-haired guy named Gage. The third man, a stocky Latino called Lance, opened the back of the van and unloaded quilted pads and a hand-truck. It took Reno and Gage about 20 minutes to tag my belongings, while Lance stood outside and smoked while reading a dirty magazine. Soon after they began to pack the van, the sweat started pouring and they removed their gray shirts. Gage and Lance had on tanks, which accentuated their muscular forearms, but Reno worked bare-chested sweat glistening on his well-defined muscles. It was hard to take my eyes off them, so I was relieved when Derrie sped up.
Derrie had been out of town setting up a location, but had promised he’d make it in time to help close out the apartment. He looked so sexy in his tight t-shirt and even tighter torn jeans; they molded exactly to his lean, tan body. After our hello kiss I looked up into his emerald eyes and asked him to load the two boxes of “extra fragile” items I had personally packed into my car. He flashed me a dashing white smile; his perfect pecs flexed as he picked the heavy cartons up to carry out. The moving men had nothing on my guy.
The movers quickly finished loading the truck; they left with the furniture and other boxes and were planning to stop for lunch before meeting us at Derrie’s townhouse. I headed in to go through the apartment to be sure nothing was left behind in the cabinets and closets. I finished checking the cloak closet, the powder room, the office, and the kitchen for leavings; all was clear. Derrie came back in as I was heading for the bedroom and shouted that he was grabbing the last beer from the ‘fridge; I shouted back to come share it with me.