She was there again ... sitting on our stoop with her elbows on her knees, a cigarette dangling from her fingers. Her head was bowed between her shoulders and her thick, curly, black hair obscured her face.
She hadn't seen me yet, so I took the time to take her in. She was dressed for work; high heeled sandals, denim shorts, and one of the white tank tops that all of the bartenders at
The Corner
wore.
I felt my blood pressure rise at the site of her, and for a split second, I considered going around the block to avoid her.
"Pussy!" I admonished himself, "Since when have you been afraid of a hot chick? It's just
Melanie
. It's not like you don't talk to her every day."
I admired her thick dark legs and the dragon tattoo that ran up her right calf. Her arms and waist were thin but the large round breasts that filled out her top were full and soft looking. I remembered thinking, at first, that her tits were too large for her frame, but the way they spilled out of her low cut top was definitely all natural.
She lifted her head and turned towards me as if she'd sensed me admiring her figure. I couldn't see her face through her hair but she could see me. When I was close, she brushed her hair away and wiped her eyes. I could tell that she'd been crying. She forced a smile at me, wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and waved.
"Hey," she greeted me.
"Hey, Melanie, how's it goin'?"
She shrugged and cleared her throat: "You stoppin' by for my shift tonight?"
She'd been the first person I'd met in the neighborhood when my Mother and I had moved in a few months ago. I'd just gotten out of the Army and my Mom was newly divorced so we'd decided to split a place while we worked out our issues and got ourselves back on our feet.
We'd met Melanie the day we moved in. We'd been carrying boxes and Melanie had been nice enough to hold the elevator for us. Mom gave her the once over, and from the look on her face, I knew she didn't approve of her at all. I don't know why, but her reaction to Melanie, and that fact that Melanie was very attractive, just seemed to encourage me to introduce myself.
"Stay away from that girl," Mom had warned me later as we unpacked. "She's married."
I hadn't noticed then that she wore a ring but I remembered feeling a pang of disappointment at the news. I didn't think about her again until after a few days at my new job when I'd wandered into
The Corner
and she'd been my bartender. It was very busy that night - but she somehow found the time to be extra attentive to my drink needs.
After that night, It seemed like we always ran into each other and we always found the time to make small talk.
"They got a deal on vodka tonight," she added, to sweeten the pot a little. She knew I liked Vodka.
I hadn't planned on going to the bar, but now that she'd asked me, I really wanted to.
"Sure," I answered. "What time you start?"
She smiled a genuine smile at me. It struck me as being a
little
on the predatory side. Her dark beauty made the look sexy. She was a local and had the mix of genes I'd come to realize was the norm in the neighborhood; Puerto Rican, African, and Italian. They'd all blended together to give her an exotic look with a pleasant round face, big brown eyes, dark skin, and full pouty lips.
"Why don't you come by when I'm finishin' up?"
I had to process that for a second: "Are you hitting on me?"
She looked over her shoulder at her apartment window and I followed her gaze to see her Husband watching us from the window.
"Maybe I am," she stood and flicked her cigarette into the gutter. "Come by around 12."
"You got it," I promised.
"Shit," she snapped, looking at her cell phone, "I gotta get goin' ... fix this makeup." She shot another angry look up at her husband. "See ya tonight."
I couldn't help but watch her walk away. She swayed her hips dramatically in a way that made her wide, heart-shaped ass swoosh side to side invitingly. She shot a glance over her shoulder to make sure I was watching her. I smiled to let her know that I was.
I imagined I could feel her Husband's icy stare on my back. I wasn't worried about it. If he had a problem with me, he was free to talk to me about it - any time.
In fact, I kind of hoped he would. Any man who made
this
girl cry probably deserved to get his ass kicked.
********************************
Mom was sitting on the couch in her old house robe watching TV with a glass of wine in one hand and the remote in the other. She'd put her long dirty-blonde hair up in a pony-tail and was wearing her reading glasses so I assumed she'd just gotten out of the shower.
"Hey, Baby," she said absently as I entered into the apartment. "How was work?"
"Fine," I dropped my jacket by the door and she shot me a look intended to let me know she disapproved. I picked up my jacket and decided just to take it with me to my room. "Any hot water left."
"Yeah, it's been a little while."
I needed a shower.
"You got mail," Mom pointed to a pile of mail on the coffee table. "Mostly bills."
"I don't know how long I can keep up with the kind of pay I'm makin' in this town."
"Don't you worry, Baby." She held up her wine as if toasting something. "I got an interview on Friday."
"Great!" I laughed. "That's good news."
She looked at me over the rim of the rim of the glass: "We should celebrate tonight!"
I stopped and looked at her for a moment. I really wanted to but I hadn't had a woman in a long time and I had a feeling that Melanie was looking to hook up. Probably a revenge thing on her husband ... but I wasn't exactly in any position to complain.
"Mom," I sighed apologeticaly, "I have plans."
She set down her glass, sat up, and leaned forward like she always did when she was preparing to lecture me. It would have been more intimidating if I was still a child - but now - it was almost comical.
"What plans?" She asked in a hurt voice.
She was probably too drunk to realize that when she'd struck her
lecture pose
, her robe had fallen open and I was offered a view of her substantial lightly freckled breasts.
"I'm gonna catch up with that girl ..."
She folded her arms and glared at me. At least her tits were covered now.
"That little slut from down the hall?"
"What?" I countered, "you don't know anything about her!"
She laughed and ran her hands over her brow as if she was getting a headache.
"I'm a
woman
, Baby," she said, stating the obvious, "I think I know a slut when I see one. Never mind the fact that she's married
and
a bartender. Seriously? I mean - think about it. Is there any way getting involved with her could possibly have 'happily ever after' written somewhere in the story-line?"
"Maybe I'm just after a 'happy ending'," I countered, surprising myself a little with my own candor.
She gasped and acted as if I'd offended her. I was surprised she'd even caught the meaning of the phrase. That made me think for a second ... maybe Mom did know a thing or two about the real world after all.
"Go to your room!" She snapped and pointed down the narrow hall.
I had to laugh.
"I'm not a kid anymore."
She readied herself for an outburst but a sudden thought flashed in her eyes and it was almost as if I could see a psychic change come over her. She shook her head and rubbed her brow again.
"I must be drunk," she laughed. "I'm sorry, Baby. It's been a long two years. I should
know
that you are a grown man. You've served your country and you deserve to have ... a good time."
She shifted to 'Guilt Mode'.
"Don't worry about your sad, old, lonely Mother, stuck in this apartment all day." She gestured grandly at the small space we shared. "All alone with nothing but a bottle of wine and the TV to keep me company."
She picked up the wine bottle and glass and poured another drink. My gaze somehow found it's way back to her exposed tit. When she leaned forward to put the bottle down I had to avert my eyes.
"I'll just entertain myself and hope that I meet some man who wants to keep me company some day."
She'd had me when she was very young and she was still a few years shy of forty. She was far from unattractive.
"Why don't you go out and meet someone?" I offered.
"My Son needs me to keep him from messing up his life with dirty sluts," she replied sarcastically before downing the glass of wine in one gulp.
I shook my head and walked away. I should have known not to buy into the guilt game.
I really needed a shower now.
********************************
I found myself thinking about Melanie and stroking my cock in the shower. It was the most pleasure I'd felt in a long time. The hot water coupled with the soapy slickness of my hand sliding up and down my shaft as I imagined Melanie's sexy fat lips around my cock. The anticipation I felt about seeing her became a montage of sensation so appealing that I completely lost track of time.
After a few moments I found my mind wandering back to the conversation I'd just had with my Mother ... only this time ... she was spreading her legs and opening her robe so I could see her big pink nipples, her dark blue eyes piercing me through her glasses with an expression of admonition as I stroked my cock over her plump belly and she swirled her fingers inside her cotton panties.
I was jerking to that image so intently that it wasn't until the water started getting cold that I was able to bring myself back to the real world. When it finally occured to me that I'd spent the last ten minutes whacking off to fantasies of my Mom - I had to let the cold water run over me for a few more minutes to calm myself down.
I hadn't shot my load yet so I toweled off, pulled on my sweatpants, and decided to pick up where I left off with Melanie when I got back to my room.
