This story is a work of fiction and tells the story of the second time I met Tommy. I'd suggest reading "Flashing Tommy" before reading this one. Everyone in this story are over the age of 18. There are references to drug use.
Flashing Tommy, Again
It was a Saturday morning and I was out shopping for a few groceries at the local food mart. A familiar voice came from over my shoulder as I was deciding on which head of lettuce to drop into my cart.
"Hey, Stranger!"
I turned my head to see a familiar face a few feet away from me, smiling and looking handsome as ever.
"Tommy! Hi!" I squealed, making my joy in seeing him perhaps just a bit too obvious. I quickly scanned the area around him, wondering if his girlfriend Cindy was close by. She wasn't. Tommy was shopping on his own. I stepped toward him and wrapped my arms around him with thoughts of our encounter in his kitchen flooding my mind.
We immediately fell into the obligatory conversation about our well being and the condition of those we both knew. I asked about Ron, Tommy's house mate, whom I had a brief affair with and had recently broken off.
"Ron's fine." he began. "Working today, as usual."
"Gotta make that big money." I answered.
"For sure, particularly with his habits." Tommy answered, referring to Ron's penchant for the nose candy.
I looked down for a moment. "Yeah, I think he might have a problem, Tommy."
I didn't really care. I had quit seeing Ron a few weeks ago as his coke consumption was getting way out of hand. I began to feel that trouble couldn't be far away considering his habits and I didn't want to be involved. I didn't really like Ron all that well anyway, nor did I love him, so I broke it off. I was a single girl once again. I changed the subject of conversation away from Ron quickly.
"So- out shopping for groceries on your own today?" I remarked playfully, trying to uplift the mood of the conversation.
"Yeah, needed a few things." he began.
"How's Cindy doing?"
Tommy paused for a second. "Cindy and I are on a break right now. I told her I needed some space."
"I'm so sorry." I retorted in contrived sympathy. My mind again sent racing back to jerking him off in his kitchen.
"She wants me out of Ron's place. She wants me to move in with her.. and I'm not ready for that." Tommy laughed a little. "Guess I pissed her off."
"Oh..." was all I could muster.
"She's right. Ron's on a bad path and I think I need to get out, but I can't afford a place on my own and I don't want a live-in situation."
In that moment, I saw an opportunity to help Tommy and maybe myself. "Maybe I could check with my landlord. He has a few places around and might have something open."
"Really?"
"Yeah, my rent is pretty reasonable and the place is OK. Maybe he has something else like it."
"Could you check with him and let me know?
"I'd be glad to. I'm heading home shortly and will give him a call. Call me this afternoon."
"That'd be great! Thank you." Tommy paused, "But I don't have your number."
I reached into my bag and grabbed a pen and a note pad. I scribbled my number on the pad and handed the slip of paper to Tommy, all the while wanting to be so bold as to tuck it into his pants pocket... or maybe into the waistband of his jeans... but I didn't. I handed him the note. "Call me this afternoon."
Tommy smiled with that wonderful grin of his. My knees weakened a little. We wrapped up our conversation with a promise from him to call me later in the day. I gave Tommy a hug as we parted ways.
"Great to see you, Tommy." I said softly.
"It was great to see you, too." he said. I wondered if he, too was thinking about that time, a few weeks ago.
*****
I live in one of the big, grand houses out on the Millionaire's Row. While that's a true statement, the fact is that I really just have an efficiency apartment that was carved out of the third floor of a former millionaire's home. The millionaires have long since passed and their families have moved away. Investors bought up the big, old houses on the cheap and carved them up into odd apartment spaces for those of limited means, myself included. My apartment is on the third floor in what was probably a servant's quarters. A sitting room, a bedroom with a small bath with a shower and a tiny little kitchen space was my home. Totally adequate for a small woman, living on her own, like me.
After returning from the store, I called my landlord and told him about Tommy, who was looking for a small place for himself. My landlord told me that he was in the process of getting an apartment ready in a house about two blocks from mine and told me if he wanted to see it, his crew would be working there until 5:00 today, and we if we could get there before then we could look around. I found out the rental rate and told him I'd get back to him if Tommy was interested.
Tommy called me about 2:00 and I told him about the place. He was interested. He agreed to meet me just before 5:00 at the address and we could take a look.
"Maybe we could grab a drink afterwards?" Tommy suggested.
"Sure." I readily agreed.
I felt the need to get a little dressed up to meet him, particularly if we were getting together after looking at the apartment. I decided to take on a real estate woman's persona and picked out a nice pair of jeans, a crisp white shirt and a sporty tweed jacket. I decided not to wear a bra. I left the top three buttons of the shirt unbuttoned. The jacket would cover and maybe, just maybe I could catch Tommy's eye once again.
Since the apartment was close by, I walked over to the building and found Tommy just getting out of his Mustang just as I arrived. It was about 10 minutes before 5:00 and the crew was carrying their tools and drop cloths out to a van. Taking on my imagined real estate agent identity, I stopped one of the crew and told them about the landlord's offer to let us look at the unit and he told me to go ahead, but to watch out for wet paint. He told me that they had just finished and asked us to lock the door on our way out. I assured him I would.