Note: After spending that wonderful day with Patricia Neighbors that I shared with you in my last story, I soon found myself watching and fantasizing about white women like never before. I couldn't bring myself to ask them out, but they were never far from my thoughts. Even when I would be on a date with a black woman I was always thinking and dreaming of the white ladies. Especially wives and mothers in their thirties and forties. That is what Patricia had done to me. It had been months since our day together but I swear I could still smell her beside me. Many times I took my cock in hand and stroked it furiously to climax while remembering that wonderful woman's sights and sounds, and the incredible softness of her pale skin. I soon realized that I would never be the same, and ultimately I stopped even looking at black women, much less dating them. Not long after that I moved to Atlanta pursuing a job opportunity. This story is about what happened following that move.
Atlanta was a big place, and it sprawled out over miles and miles. I remember thinking that I'd never learn my way around that town. But I had decided against my family's wishes to move there, so I was determined to make the best of it. It wasn't long before I knew most of the main roads and could find my way from place to place without much of a hassle. And within a couple of months I was able to move out of Joey's house and get a pretty nice place of my own.
Joey was the friend from high school who had offered me the job. He had started his own landscaping business after moving there with his new wife. He and Darla had met and fell in love while away at college. She was from there originally, and Joey liked the idea of moving south. Plus, her folks had some money. They were willing to help finance the young couple's business idea, if their daughter and her new husband would just agree to come to Atlanta. They had been there about a year and things seemed to be going well.
Anyway, Joey and I had been the best of friends since we were ten years old. We stayed in touch after high school and he eventually talked me into moving to Atlanta. He needed someone he could trust to help him with his burgeoning business. And I needed an opportunity and some direction in my life. He wanted me to run his three yard crews, and work to keep his existing customers happy while he pursued commercial accounts. I was young and unattached, and I liked the idea of being in charge. So, I thought, what the hell? But looking back now, I know that the prospect of dealing with all of those lonely white housewives while their husbands were off making a living, that's what truly pulled me south.
I had been on the job for about two months when Joey approached me about taking on an extra responsibility. He was a little hesitant about asking me at first. Up until then my job had been primarily managerial, and some public relations. Every once in awhile I would chip in and help one of the crews if they got behind. Even sometimes when they weren't. I was looking for ways to gain their trust and loyalty, and I thought a little manual labor along side them might go a long way. Anyway like I said, Joey approached me about taking on a new customer by myself. It was a small yard that really didn't warrant a full crew. I think he thought I might be offended, but I actually welcomed the opportunity to take off my shirt and get a little dirty. So it was decided that I would add this new customer to my weekly schedule.
"Just work them in every 7 to 10 days," Joey instructed. "Here's the address. The name is Williamson. Claude and Sarah, I think. Let me know how this first time goes."
The house was on the edge of town. It was an older home, with all the southern amenities. A white picket fence and a wrap-around porch complete with rockers and a bench swing. All of it shaded and littered by a huge magnolia. I remember thinking the only thing missing was a lawn jockey. The entire neighborhood had an old south feel to it, but the Williamson's place stood out among the others. I went straight to the front door and knocked loudly, half expecting to see a big black mammy answer the door. Boy was I ever wrong.
Instead, a lovely white woman somewhere in her forties opened the door slowly and then a little hesitantly when she saw me standing there. She looked me over quickly, without expression. She wasn't rude about it; she just seemed like someone surprised to see a young black man standing on his or her porch. She started to close the door a little bit when I noticed she looked past me, to my truck. When she saw the mower and lawn equipment there, her expression started to relax and soften.
"Yeah that's right, you're safe," I thought to myself. "The big bad black man's not gonna rape you."
I watched as she flipped back the hook on the inside of the screen door. She still seemed a little hesitant. She slowly pushed the door open, and allowed her eyes to meet mine briefly. Her eyes were kind for sure, but so cautious. I immediately felt like a heel for my initial reaction.
"You're from the lawn company," she said softly, while extending her hand to me. "I'm Sarah Williamson."
I reached to shake her hand, but she just laid it lightly across the top of mine. She did that so ladylike, for a split-second I actually considered placing a small kiss on it. I refrained, and instead just held it gently for a moment.
"Yes Ma'am, that's right. Here to take care of the yard, if you'd like," as I lowered her hand slowly, allowing it eventually to fall back at her side.
I could see her expression brighten immediately in response to my politeness. It was very obvious that good manners meant more than just a little to her. Though she still had to fight to look me in the eye, I could tell my polite words had put her somewhat at ease. But there was still a shyness to this woman, or more of just a reserved nature. A hesitancy, if you will. She reminded me of a small pup that had been scolded recently.
There was something about her that made me want to comfort her somehow.
"Well, yes," she continued while gathering her thoughts. "What do you need to get started? I think my husband has already spoken with someone about what we need. Is that right?"
"Oh, yes Ma'am. No problem, I know what to do. I just wanted to let you know I was here, and introduce myself."
She smiled genuinely, with a slight look of puzzlement. It was like she was surprised I would take the time to let her know that. Like she wasn't used to anyone considering what she might like to know.
