Black history - Sex Stories

Black history

... black dress. It's cotton and comfortable, and besides, I like the way it shows off my legs. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a car slowing down. I usually check out strange cars in the neighborhood, but right now I really need to finish my work. I carry the few boxes back to the kitchen table and set about my task at hand when I hear an unfamiliar voice. &#034Mrs. Dimon, that you?&#034 I quickly walk back into the living room and I'm a bit surprised to see a large dark face peering in. &#034Yes, may I help you?&#034 He doesn't answer at first but then he flashes his ID at me. &#034Fred Lewis, Columbia Gas,&#034 he says. I feel my body tense up at these words. I can tell this is not one of the guys that read the meters every month. This is a man of authority - and I get the feeling my ass is in trouble. &#034I'm here to talk to you about you being in arrears on your gas bills. I'm going to have your service turned off if we can't come to a satisfactory agreement. Now, may I come in? &#034Yes, of course,&#034 I stammer. What else can I say? I want to shut the door on this huge presence, then run and hide somewhere. But that won't make bad things go away. &#034Please have a seat,&#034 I say gesturing toward the sofa. &#034Can I get you some iced tea?&#034 Why did I ask that? He's here to make my life miserable, and I'm offering iced tea. Well, I do have a fresh pitcher on the counter and I was raised to be hospitable. &#034Iced tea would do fine, Mrs. Dimon. As long as ...

... you're getting the tea it might be better if we sat at the kitchen table. Do you agree?&#034 &#034Oh, uh, that would be fine, Mr.?&#034 &#034Lewis.&#034 &#034Oh, yes. I'm sorry.&#034 I move around the kitchen like I'm out of my territory. It takes me a moment to find Mr. Lewis a glass. I don't know if the threat of disconnection is having an affect on me or if it's this intimidating man. I mean, yeah, he's been polite but there's something about him that makes my skin tingle. I hand him the glass and become aware of his eyes moving up and down my body. A thought flickers through my mind. No, not a thought, really, but a brief image of this black bear of a man handling me... roughly. &#034Would you care to explain why you have neglected to make your payments?&#034 He asks sternly. &#034You do recall signing a contract that stipulated your agreement to pay on time or risk having your service terminated, don't you? We've been lenient up to now, but this is not a one-time problem. You have a history of late payment and shut offs. I'm strongly inclined to recommend a permanent shut off at this point.&#034 My hand shakes as I place the tea on the table in front of him. &#034Thank you, Mrs. Dimon,&#034 he smiles briefly. &#034Mr. Lewis, you can't imagine how bad I feel about being behind on my bills. It's not just gas, it's everything.&#034 I can feel the tears starting. I always cry when I'm upset and there's no way to stop them. &#034Now, now, Ms. Dimon, why don't you sit down and ...