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"Why not?" I asked.
"I really wanted to see you tonight."
"Oh." A twinkle of understanding was finally beginning to grow in the back of my mind. But this didn make any sense. Since the breakup, our relationship had been purely platonic, without much of a hint of anything else. If she was coming on to me, why now, all of a sudden? "Are gay boy gallery you gay boy gallery sure it can gay boy gallery wait until tomorrow?" I wanted to make certain I wasn misunderstanding her gay boy gallery but, at the same time gay boy gallery, I didn want to come right out and ask just in case all she really wanted to do was hang out.
"Ill put it like this," she said. "You can come tomorrow but it won be same as if you came tonight."
"What do you mean, It won be the same?"
"I might be in a different mood."
"Okay," I said, shutting off the Playstation. "Ill be there in less than half an hour."
"Sure." Rashida sounded skeptical.
"Really," I insisted. "Ill be on my way."
"Okay." Rashida hung up and I hurried into the bathroom to start the shower. All my life Id been notoriously slow to pick up on womens subtle hints, sometimes being so dense as to drive them to the point of having to grab my dick to get my attention. But not this time. Either I was way off base or Rashida was extremely horny and had decided to call me of all people. Whatever the case, I wasn going to snooze through this one. I stripped and hopped into the shower to scrub the sweat and dirt of the day off me. Five minutes later I was done (the quickest shower of my life) and getting dressed. I threw on a t-shirt, a pair of sweat pants, grabbed my keys and was out the front door in less than five minutes.
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Rashida lived less than two miles away and as I raced there in my Oldsmobile, I wondered why we didn see more of each other. Her excuse was that she was gay boy gallery always busy working or taking care of her three year old daughter. I thought that was bullshit because, at the same time, shed always complain about how tired she was from kicking it all weekend. She just never kicked it with me.
In gay boy gallery no time I was pulling up in front of her high rise. Miraculously, I found a parking place and was soon in the vestibule buzzing her bell.
"Hello?" She sounded groggy.
"Its me. Im downstairs." There was a click and then the door buzzed. I went through the lobby and gay boy gallery got on the elevator to her floor. I got gay boy gallery off, found her apartment, and knocked. It took a few moments then she finally opened the door.
It occurred to me that I hadn actually seen her in four months; the time Id taken her and her daughter grocery shopping. She looked like shed been napping; her eyelids were heavy. She smiled at me stood aside as I walked in.
"I didn think you were coming," she said.
"I told you I would be here. You know Im always dependable."
"Ha." She closed the door and slipped her arms around me. I hugged her back, enjoying the contact. Rashida had always had a way of hugging that was unlike anyone else Id known. She pressed her small breasts into my chest and subtlety pushed her pelvis against mine. My gay boy gallery dick would get hard every time she did that but I never got too excited because I knew she hugged everyone like that.
The apartment was dark and quiet. That meant her daughter was probably asleep on the futon in the living room. "Is your roommate gay boy gallery here?" I asked.
"No," she said, taking her arms from around my neck gay boy gallery. "Shes still at work."
I knew this but I was just making sure. "You look nice," I said. And she did. Her hair was cut short, the way shed always worn it. She had on gay boy gallery a brown knit sweater and a matching brown suede skirt which complimented her dark skin tone. Her response to my compliment was typical. "Please," she said, turning away and heading for the kitchen. "I look scruffy as usual." Rashida, in my opinion, was a gay boy gallery rather high maintenance girl, wearing top of the line clothes and always looking fine. She gay boy gallery disagreed, saying she seldom wore jeans and t-shirts and stuff like that because she "wasn in high school anymore". I, being an electrician, had an excuse for wearing jeans and t-shirts at all times.
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