Excerpt from “Storming Traci’s Defenses” – The attraction

Raun felt like a teenager trying to get to first base. This is bullshit! He slid his hand that rubbed her thigh up to her hips, then her waist. He felt a slight shudder, and he trembled in response to the liberties she was allowing. Kissing her closed eyes, he ached to ravish her mouth. “Kiss me,” he begged.

Traci tilted her head back, and puckered those full lips like she was about to bestow a chaste kiss on his brow. Raun’s hand left her waist, and rushed up to grab her pert breast behind the silky blouse and lace bra. His head descended, and his tongue flicked out, pressing against the closed seams of her lips. Moaning he enjoyed a trace of cherry and peppermint that was either something she had digested or was from her lip gloss. Flicking her raised nipple with his thumb, he forced an aroused sigh from her parted lips. Her upper body arched into the caress, while her butt ground into his erection. His tongue penetrated the warm cavern of her mouth. Her tongue lay pliant within, while his tickled the roof of her mouth with his. He felt Traci’s hand rove up his chest to his throat and then cupped his jaw. Her fingers fluttered against his unshaven skin as if the feel of his stubble excited her.

Raun wanted her beneath him. He wanted to feel her body against him from chest to thighs, and to everything in between. Just thinking about entering her tight depths had him sweating and aching. Desperate not to break the contact of their lips, he shifted her in his arms, and planted his feet firmly to the ground, then pushed to his feet. Letting her legs dangle above the floor, he turned her lower body to face his, while he sucked her tongue into his mouth. Once her body was flush against his, he lowered one hand to her butt and pressed their bodies closer, aligning the organs between their legs. Holding her in place with both of his large hands on her butt, he pushed hard against her, while pulling her into him at the same time. They both groaned at the contact. Traci’s legs lifted to wrap around his slim waist.

She broke the kiss to take a deep breath. Her eyes seem to glow with desire, as she stared into his. There was a demand behind that stare. It seem to say take me. I am ready. Raun did not know if he was seeing what he wanted to see, or if her eyes were actually saying those things. Then she ground against him without direction from him. Her tongue rimming her lips, as she stared at his.

Raun spun them around, one knee coming down to press against the sofa cushions, then one hand pressed down to balance their weight until Traci’s body lay flat on the large couch. Her legs gripped him tighter, as she flexed her hips up and down in frantic disorganized movements. Her rapid and harsh breathing matched his. “Kiss me,” she whispered. “Teach me how to kiss you.”

For some reason those words conjured up more than a kiss. They brought to life all that he could, and would teach her. Latching onto her lips, he pulled her bottom lip between his own, and sucked on it. He needed her to open her legs wider, so that he could rock against the apex of her thighs. Her legs controlled and trapped his movements. He removed his arms from around her upper body, and planted his hands above her head on the armrest into a plank. Her lower body lifted as well, as she tighten her legs around his waist. Raun lowered his knees to the sofa, and removed one hand to tug on her leg.

“Open up for me.”

Traci opened her mouth, but her thighs still gripped his waist. Raun chuckled, and her eyes flew open staring into his. She closed her mouth, and tears filled her eyes.

“Ahm. I think… I think I’ll go stay with—”

Raun’s lips swooped down, and he forced her mouth open. He did not want Traci to finish her statement. She was not going anywhere. His amusement had been at himself for not explicitly saying what he wanted. He wanted her to open her legs, not her mouth. Her hands were moving over his chest, flicking at nipples that seem sensitive.

Breaking the kiss once more, their breaths sawing in and out, while their hearts beat as if the were in a race. “Let loose your legs. I need more.”

Her legs fell open, one fell off the edge of the sofa, while the other one hooked over its back. Groaning in delight, Raun grabbed fists full of her short curly hair and ravaged her mouth. His tongue flitted against her teeth, the roof of her mouth, and then dueled with hers, before sucking her tongue. She tasted so sweet, his mind tried to catalog the taste, but could not. Pushing against her core with his lower body, he mimed what he wanted to do once inside her. “Oh God! You are so fucking sweet. I can’t get enough. I need more! I need in.”

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“Storming Traci’s Defenses” – The setup

Photo credit: TripAdvisor


The ringing of Traci’s cellphone woke her up. Groggy and confused, she turned around in the big bed wondering why she had fallen asleep in her work clothes. The woodsy lemon scent on her pillows reminded her of someone. Closing her eyes again, she tried to remember why she was in bed and not wearing her nightgown. Her skirt was twisted around her waist. Her butt had been exposed to the elements. She was still wearing her thigh high stockings, which was weird, because as soon as she enters her apartment, she strips down, and get comfortable. Her work clothes are thrown into the wa—.

Everything came rushing back. This was not her room. This was not her bed. Scot was dead, and roaches were crawling all over her closet. She had fallen asleep in Raun’s bed. Where’s Raun? She had stopped thinking of him as Mr. Hartman. She only thought of him as Mr. Hartman, when she thought of them as a couple, Mr. and Mrs. Hartman.

The cellphone stopped ringing, only to start up again. The bedroom door creaked open, and Traci nearly jumped a foot when she saw dark form fill the doorway. “Eek!” Track cried, and the head swung in her direction next to the bed.

“Oh. You’re awake.” Raun walked further into the room. He fiddled with the lamp, and then light illuminated the room, next to the bed. The bed was bathed in soft light. The ringing stopped, only to start up a few seconds later. “Are you going to answer? Seems like that person is really worried about you.”

Bending down, Traci picked up the phone and saw Lynda’s picture. She swiped it and entered her pass-code. “Hi Lynda. I tried to call you.” It was always best to be on the defense when dealing with Lynda.

“Not very hard, because I didn’t receive a message. Did you leave one?”

“I know how much you detest messages.”

“You coming home?”

“For a little while.”

“Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

Traci removed the cell from her ear, and stared at it, before putting it back to her head. “Lynda, you okay?”

“Other than Scot killing himself?”

Traci gasped. “I was told that he died from a blow to the head.”

“That man was always selfish,” Lynda continued as if she did not hear Traci’s statement. “Only thinking about the flesh, instead of God’s good grace.”

“Lynda! How did Scot die?”

Raun sat next to Traci at the edge of the bed. His hands reaching for her hand, which had been twisting and smoothing out the comforter. “How did Scot die? Lynda?” Traci heard harsh breathing, and then frantic whispering. OMG! Lynda is losing it. First, I left, and now Scot died, and she’s losing herself. Could it be dementia? Traci needed to Google the symptoms of that illness. “Listen Lynda, I’m coming over now. I’ll call a cab and come over.”

“No! Come tomorrow.”

“I have to work tomorrow.”

Lynda shouted, “if you can’t come tomorrow, don’t bother to come at all!”

Traci looked down at her hand clutching Raun’s. What the hell was going on? Lynda said Scot had committed suicide. Why?

“What’s going on?” Raun asked. His eyebrows lowered as he tried to hear what Traci’s foster mom was saying.

“Who’s there with you? Is it GG? She’s been crying? Tell her I say, the Lord works in mysterious ways. It’s not for us to criticize when He calls one of us home.”

Traci found it strange that Lynda was spewing the verbiage, because three weeks ago, she had been lamenting why the Lord had called her boy home. It had been Scot who had said those exact words to her. Now she was using those words calmly after Scot’s death? Was there more to the story of Scot’s sudden death? Traci did not correct Lynda’s assumption that GG was the one speaking.

“Are you okay by yourself tonight? I can come over, if you need—”

“I’m not alone.” Lynda paused, and then quickly added. “The Lord is always with me.”

“I’ll call in tomorrow to see if I can get the day off. See you soon. Love you.” Lynda hung up without replying in kind.

Traci’s screen reverted to the home page. She pressed the home key, and it turned the screen to black.

Untitled…

When death comes unexpected,
There are no preparations.
There are things left unsaid and undone.
We are left to cope with the aftermath:
The consoling of loved ones,
The thought of being brave for the one most fragile.

Why do we put on this brave face?
Who decides who is the stronger one?
While grieving, we must think of costs, packing away, and boxing clothes, etc.

Guilt intrudes: were there signs or cues you missed? I shoulda, coulda do this or that, but death is inevitable for all of us
We are walking around with expiration dates ingrained on our souls.

When our time is up there is nothing that can keep us here. Not tears, not pleading, not even self flagellation.

We must accept, but never forget the good times, as we focus on moving past the devastation, while holding tightly to those who remain.

Afraid that their expiration date may also be nigh.

Character Development: Traci Williams

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Photo Credit: brooklynbuttah.com

Traci Williams stepped off the curb between two parked cars on the street opposite her brownstone apartment in Brooklyn. The space between the two cars suggested a car had been parked there. From the corner of her eye, she noticed a yellow cab’s right indicator beginning to flash. Scanning the left side of the street for traffic, Traci walked toward her apartment with her keys jingling between her fingers. She looked up at her apartment on the second floor and thought about the lunch she had left on the kitchen table that morning. Her eyes moved to the apartment below hers and thoughts of her landlord pushed everything else out of her head. She wondered if he was home and what he was doing.

“Look out!”

She did not know in which direction to look, but at the sound of metal scraping metal, screeching tires, and the smell of burn rubber, she spun back to the right. An orange-colored Jeep Wrangler was heading towards her. It clipped the yellow cab and didn’t stop. The cab came to a sudden halt. A small Asian man jumped out cursing and waving his fist until he saw the jeep heading for her. Traci registered all of this, but could not find the will to get out of the street. Her right leg seemed glued to the pavement. Actually, it was her whole right side that was frozen. Hoping the Jeep would screech to a stop or go around her, Traci prayed for divine intervention. Her first thought was that the driver was aiming for the parking spot, and she was in his or her way. Parking was a nightmare in the neighborhood, with residents sometimes having more than one car per household. Holding her breath, Traci braced for impact. Her heart hurt from the rapid beat knocking against her ribs. Staring death in the face, everything slowed down. Silence filled her ears. Her eyes burned and felt like they were going to pop out of their sockets. Her mouth opened, and she twisted her upper body with her palms open and out, as if to push against the hood of the car.

The impact, when it came, pushed the air from her lungs and propelled her backwards away from the speeding vehicle. Her shoulder ached, and she stumbled. The impact had not been from steel, but muscle. Opening eyes that Traci did not realize had closed, she saw a white tee shirt and flexing muscle under dark skin. A woodsy scent filled her nostrils and made her dizzy with an unexplained desire to hold on tight. Her black, high-heeled boots knocked against the raised sidewalk. Then her world seem to tilt, as she was lifted up on a hard shoulder. Her eyes staring at a tight ass and then the ground below. Her keys fell from her fingers as she opened her hand to grab the trim waist. Bracing her hands on the kind Samaritan’s broad back, Traci tried to look toward the road, but her vision was blocked. A hard band was across her knees. “Excuse me.” Traci’s voice came out husky. Clearing her throat, she tried to get the attention of her savior. “Could you, please put me down.”

Instead of responding the man placed his big hand on her butt and… Was he rubbing her ass? Traci tried to rear up. She could feel her face on fire. Her ass felt cold. Was her ass outside? Her skirt fluttered as a gust of wind moved through the Street. Traci shivered. The thought that her ass was out for everyone to see was mortifying. “Excuse me. Could you please put me down!” Was that a laugh? Traci swore she heard a snort from the man holding her. The indignity of the whole situation made her try harder to get out of his arms. She was not a thong type of person, but it would be just her luck that the one day she wore one her butt was being exposed to all her neighbors. A thought hit her then, what if her landlord was getting an eyeful from his home office window. The thought of him seeing her ass made her actually squirm, and she felt a rush of liquid flood her nether lips. In reflex she ground her aching mound on the shoulder of her rescuer. Pushing frantically and kicking her legs, Traci tried to convey her need to escape the gentleman’s hold.

“Quiet!” Rumbled a recognizable voice. Slumping in Raun’s hold, Traci realized that God had saved her from certain death by vehicular manslaughter only to kill her with humiliation. She was draped over her landlord Raun Hartman’s shoulder. His hand covering her exposed buttocks. The wind picked up, shaking dry leaves from the sparse trees. He spanked her repeatedly as he and the wind played some type of patty cake game.

“Are you both alright? That guy had to be drunk,” stated the Asian cab driver.

“Or a moron,” replied Raun.  “Did you get the license plate?”

“Nah. Looks like he was heading for your girlfriend though.”

“I’m not his girlfriend!” Traci did not know why she felt the need to state that with Raun’s hand now rubbing her ass, as he talked to the cab driver.  No one seemed to be paying her any attention.

“Looked that way from where I was standing as well.” Addressing Traci, Raun asked, “Do you have any enemies?”

“He probably wanted the parking space and I was in his way.” Even to her own ears it sounded like a stupid excuse to deliberately run someone over for a parking spot. And why didn’t he stop to find out if she was okay like the cab driver?

“He gunned his engine when you stepped off the sidewalk,” pointed out Raun.

“Maybe it was an old person who got confused by the pedals.” It seemed more plausible that that was the case. There have been a lot of fatalities lately caused by distracted or confused drivers. There was an old man who tried to park in front of a Baskin Robbins and by accident pressed the gas and killed a seven year old boy when he crashed through the front window of the store. Why would someone want to hurt her anyway? She was a Kindergarten teacher for Christ sakes. What could be more wholesome than that? Raun and the cab driver had to be mistaken.

The cab driver said, “he’s lucky there wasn’t any damage to my car. Ford is producing–”

Raun interrupted the cabdriver to ask Traci, “What are you doing home so early anyway?

Sighing Traci wished she was facing Raun to give him a dress down. It was simply demeaning to be draped over his shoulder with the cab driver and God knows who else staring at her derriere. Raun jostled Traci to get her attention. I’m not going to answer until he puts me down.

“You there! Wunna blocking de sun from reaching my babies.”

Traci turned her head toward the newcomer. Mrs. Holtz was wearing one of her usual colorful muumuus. The background was red with large white hibiscus flowers. On her feet were matching red flip flops. Her head scarf seem to be from the same material as the dress. Hanging her head Traci looked away from the ornery woman. At first learning that Mrs. Holtz was Barbadian, Traci had been excited to meet her, but that woman was as contrary as all get out. She was one of those Bajan old timers who chased children out of her yard or off her sidewalk. The only thing she seemed to care about were her flowers and plants. Her husband having passed two years ago. Raun said Mr. Holtz gave up his family and religion to be with her. They never had kids. Many times Traci tried to befriend the woman only to be snubbed. Traci had to admit defeat after a week.

“You know that all you bamsy outside?” Grumbling under her breath, but loud enough for Traci to hear, Mrs. Holtz asked, “Why any woman would insist on wearing floss panties I could never understand.” Shaking her head she walked to the side of her property and disappeared as quickly as she had come on the scene. Traci banged her head against Raun’s back.

Raun finally slid Traci down his body until her booted feet touched the ground. The only problem with that slow action, the front of Traci’s skirt went up with her descent. Raun tried to help push down her skirt and somehow his fingers brushed against her swollen nub. Jumping back Traci twisted her ankle and would have fallen on her butt. Raun grabbed her waist to stop her from falling. Sighing Traci shoved at his big hands that seemed to span her small waist. His thumbs caressing over the little bulge of her belly. The cab driver cleared his throat. Traci caught him smiling before he bowed his head at them, mumbled something and walked away.

“Why are you home so early? Are you feeling okay?” Raun grasped Traci’s chin staring down into her eyes. His dark brown gaze making her feel queasy. It felt like a thousand butterflies were fluttering their wings in her stomach. Her breathing speeding up. She wanted to pull his head down and sip at those gorgeous lips. He was too handsome for his own good. Instead of pulling Raun’s head down and searching the caverns of his mouth, Traci pulled at his hands forcing him to release her as she widen the space between them. “I’m fine! I just came home for lunch.” Starting across the street Traci stopped to look both ways repeatedly. Traci was not over her upset of the earlier incident with the jeep. Her horoscope said that she should stay off the street. What kind of horoscope was that? How can she stay off the street when she had to work? Where was the reading that said that she will win enough money so that she will no longer need to work, hence she could stay off the street?

“Come on. Nothing is coming.”

“My keys.”

“What about them? Did you lose them?”

Why did he always think the worse about me? “No. They fell when you picked me up.” Granted I’ve fell in front of him a few times. I’ve also exposed myself to everyone in the neighborhood, but that had been his fault. If he hadn’t kept me over his shoulder for God knows how long, no one would have known that I was wearing a thong.

“For the love…” After searching a few minutes, he bent down and picked up the keys. Traci stared at his tight ass. She felt like spanking it. Where had that thought come from, and what do I know about spanking some guy’s ass? It did look biteable though, hard and high. Maybe he did a lot of squats. Would squats give you a taut bum? She could still remember him swatting her own bum, as he had tried to get her skirt down. Holding her bum in his large hands had also made her want to wrap her legs around his waist.

Now he was looking at the side of one of the cars involved in the car swipe. Traci could spend all day watching him move, but she had to get back to work, and she had not even eaten her lunch as yet. She still had to heat it up, and then take it to work. Too much time had passed for her to watch the show she had planned to watch while eating at home. What was the man doing now? “Excuse me? I need my keys!” He was on all fours looking under the car. He returned to a standing position. The keys jangling from his finger tips.

“What do I get for returning these to you?”

“A big thank you and a see you later,” Traci replied with exasperation. She did not want him to know that she found him attractive. God forbid that she did. She did not even know how to kiss. Maybe she should review how to kiss on YouTube. YouTube had everything. Google and YouTube were her go-to websites when she needed to know something. Thank God for them otherwise she would be lost.

“That’s it? Not even a kiss for saving your life.” He smiled and Traci realized that he had dimples. He was bow legged, tall, lean with muscles and hard abs, dark sexy eyes, and now dimples too? All the attributes she found attractive on a man. Was this the man her horoscope kept telling her about? Traci thought he was way out of her league.

“I’m going to be late. I still need to eat my lunch.”

“How about a rain check?” He held her keys out to her, but still had a firm grip on them.

“Um… sure.” Traci reached for the keys, snatched them out of his hands, ducked her head, and ran across the street to her apartment. Looking back at his winking dimples, Traci sighed, unlocked her door, and entered her apartment, closed the door and leaned against if for a few minutes to calm her racing heart. I’m in big trouble.

Storming Traci’s Defenses

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Photo Credit: Compass

Traci Williams stepped off the curb from between two parked cars on the street opposite her brownstone apartment in Brooklyn when she noticed the yellow cab’s right indicator begin to flash. The driver’s face was obscured behind the reflected glare of the noon day sun bouncing off the windshield. Trying to make eye contact with this driver proved futile. Looking away from the car and scanning the left side of the street for traffic, Traci walked toward her apartment with her keys jangling between her fingers. The space between the two cars suggested that a car had been parked there. She stared up at her apartment on the second floor thinking about her lunch she had left on the kitchen table that morning. Thoughts of her landlord intruded as she wondered if he was home and what he was doing.

“Look out!” Head swiveling back to the right at the screeching of tires and burnt rubber, Traci saw an orange colored jeep wrangler speeding towards her. It clipped the yellow cab and did not stop. The cab came to a sudden stop. Traci took this all in at a glance, but still could not find the will to get out of the street. Her right leg seemed glued to the pavement, actually, it was her whole right side that was frozen. Hoping that the jeep would screech to a stop or go around her, although there did not seem to be much space to go around her, as cars lined both sides of the street, Traci was praying for Divine intervention. Traci’s first thought was that the driver was aiming for the parking spot and she was in his or her way. Parking was a nightmare in the neighborhood with residents sometimes having more than one car per household. Why am I thinking about this? Holding her breath, Traci prayed that the impact would not be too severe. Her heart actually hurt from the rapid beat which knocked against her ribs. Staring death in the face, everything slowed down. Silence filled her ears; her eyes burned and threatened to pop out of their sockets. Her mouth opened and she twisted her upper body with her palms open and out as if to push against the hood of the car.

The impact when it came rushed air from her lungs, and propelled her backwards away from the speeding vehicle. Her shoulder ached from the impact, and she stumbled backwards. The impact was not from steel, but muscle. Her feet shuffled as they tried to keep her upright. Opening her eyes, Traci saw a white wife-beater and dark skin and supple muscles flexing. A woodsy scent filled her nostrils and made her dizzy with an unexplained desire to hold tight. Her black high heeled kid boots knocked against the raised sidewalk, and Traci instinctively grabbed the upper arms of her savior. Muscles flexed again under her grip, and then she was lifted into a fireman’s carry. Her keys fell from her finger even as she tried onto hold them. Bracing her hands on the kind Samaritan’s broad shoulders, Traci looked toward the jeep that seem to chase them onto the sidewalk and into Mrs. Holtz’s manicured hedges. “Moron!” Traci yelled, as she raised one fist in outrage. It was anyone’s guess who she was upset with at the moment, as her A-Line pleated wool skirt flew up by a gust of wind exposing her flesh colored bikini panties. The gentleman muttered something, as he tried to bat the skirt down, but what he ended up doing was spank her several times as he tried to bat it down.

“Stop that!” Looking over her shoulder, Traci asked in her Barbadian accent, “what you doing?” At the sound of scraping metal she returned her gaze to the street, but almost got a mouthful of the hedges when she was spun around. She barely registered that the windows were dark, before the thought tinted windows invaded her mind. Traci inadvertently dug her nails into the tee shirt clad shoulder. It was an unusual warm October day, but not that warm to warrant a tee. The heat coming off her savior though was beginning to not only warm her hands, but also send a tingle to the apex of her thighs where it rested on his hard shoulder blade.

“Hey!” Traci said, and she reared up even more when she began to slide down a hard chest, while the front of her skirt remained in the air. Her taupe colored bikini panties rubbing over his pectoral muscle, then down his rock hard abs. What was he doing? His hands cupped her ass making it difficult to push down her skirt, while he slid her down his body. Twisting and tugging, she tried pushing his hands away from her bum. Her chest bounced against him, and she suspected that the guy was laughing. The pervert! The slow movement forced her to feel every inch of his body. Mortified, she waited until her feet touched the ground before trying to take a big step back. His hands pulled her in close to rub her against the hardness behind his zipper before releasing her. Traci stumbled at the loss of his support. Her hands brushed down her skirt, and fixed her bunched up sweater. Fighting the urge to kick him in the groin, Traci kept her head down, as she tried to gain control over her emotions. Anger was rushing through her at his audacity to rub himself against her in that lewd manner, but she also had the urge to do more than rub against him. Head down with heat scalding her neck and into her cheeks. Thank God you can never tell when a black woman was blushing. She would not give this thug the satisfaction. The fading sound of screeching tires reminded her of the almost near tragedy. Traci’s head swiveled in the direction of the fleeing vehicle, before turning to face the person who saved her when he cleared his throat.

“You okay?” He asked. Traci was not surprised to see it was her landlord Raun Hartman. Her body knew it was him. He was the only man who made her pant like a bitch in heat. Looking up at him, she watched his eyes turn soft as his head lowered. Traci moved up on her tip toes in her boots. At five feet, ten inches she usually towered over men and women without heels, with heels, she felt like a giant. With Raun though, they were the perfect height for each other. She had always dreamed of a man tall enough to allow the appropriate anatomical parts to align. His lips looked wet like he had sucked on them in preparation for a kiss, Traci hoped.

“Get out of my hedges!” A door slammed, as an angry little woman wearing a multicolored striped house dress and fussy red socks with a cloud of white hair approached them. “Honey, it’s alright momma’s gonna fix you up.”

“I’m fine Mrs. Holtz,” smiled Traci turning her head to watch the woman pat the hedges. She harrumph and shooed them away.

“If you wanna make out, you have a big house over there,” she pointed to their residence. “There isn’t any need to destroy my garden.” After saying that, she slammed back into her house. They heard multiple locks being engaged.

“I guess she didn’t see anything,” said Traci.

“She’s always been that way. Only seeing what’s important to her.”

Traci was sure she heard the woman saying through the open window next to the door, “No respect!”

Raun raised his eyebrows as if to say, “see?”

“Are you okay?” Raun asked again in his deep pantie wetting rumble.

“I think so.” Traci whispered. “That guy had to be drunk!”

Moving out of the hedges, she stepped off the side walk and almost twisted her ankle. Traci’s left heel wobbled on the uneven sidewalk, as she tried to stop her knees from shaking. Staring into his dark eyes, she wet her own lips, as she wished they had completed the kiss. Wondering how he would taste and feel she continue to stare at his lips. The way he was making her insides jump, made her questions sound like an attack, “What you doing outside? Don’t you have work?”

He ignored her questions, and attacked with his own. “What were you thinking standing in the street like that? Were you trying to commit suicide?” His eyes became hard, as he waited for her response.

“That guy came outta nowhere. One minute de Street was clear, and de next he was there,” Traci said. She was not sure of any such thing, but what else could she have said, she had a premonition that she was going to die by vehicular manslaughter and thought today was that day? Yeah, he might have her committed into a loony bin. Traci believed in horoscopes, and if they told her that today was the day she was going to be involved in an accident, she believed it. Well, it also told her that she was going to meet the man of her dreams. She did not know if she should believe that because for the last two weeks it kept telling her about a lover, and she was not actively looking.

“Is that the reason you were in the superman stance? What you doing home so early anyway? Is it because of Sandy?”

“No. I—came home for lunch.” Why am I letting this man brow beat me? Is it any of his business why I’m home early? I don’t need to explain myself. Traci did not appreciate the way he was talking to her. It was like he was her father or something. They may live in the same house, but she was a grown woman and did not need some man talking down to her. There was no need for him to start dictating to her. It was her business why she was home early.

“I’ll walk you home before you kill yourself.” He grabbed her hand and forced it through the crook of his elbow and began to pull her along in his wake.

Traci pushed up her mouth and tugged on her arm, but Raun trapped her arm between his arm and his hard waist.

“I’m not a child to be tugged about!” Traci cried, still tugging on her arm.

Off the sidewalk, he looked up and down the street before pulling her to their residence. Traci’s knees were still shaking and she stumbled across the street like a drunken sailor. “What’s wrong with you? Why do women wear such contraptions on their feet?”

“If you would stop rushing me, there wouldn’t be a problem,” said Traci.

Raun let her go, as they reached the short steps leading up to their doors. Without Raun propelling Traci along on her tip toes, Traci stepped on her heel and there followed a cracking noise. The heel snapped off and pitched her off balance. Grabbing at the walled banister, Traci held on for dear life as her heel remained behind. Raun swept her off her feet into his arms like a groom carrying a bride over the threshold. Jogging up the five steps, he waited for Traci to open the door to her upstairs apartment. It was then that she remembered that she did not have her keys. They had fallen from her fingers near one of the cars.

“Well? What you waiting on?” Raun asked puzzled by the delay.

“I dropped my keys.”

“For the love…” He put her to lean against her door before turning around and jogging back towards the opposite side of the street. After searching a few minutes, he bent down and picked up the something. She supposed they were her keys. Traci stared at his tight ass. She felt like spanking it. Where had that thought come from, and what do I know about spanking some guy’s ass? It did look biteable though, hard and high. Maybe he did a lot of squats. Would squats give you a taut bum? She could still remember him swatting her own bum, as he had tried to get her skirt down. She could still feel the imprint of his hands on her ass. Holding her bum in his large hands had also made her want to wrap her legs around his waist and rub up and down on him.

Now he was looking at the side of one of the cars involved in the car swipe. Traci could spend all day watching him move, but she had to get back to work, and she had not even eaten her lunch as yet. Thinking of her cooked meal sitting on the table, her stomach grumbled at the delay. She still had to heat it up, and then take it to work. Too much time had passed for her to watch the show she had planned to watch while eating at home. What was the man doing now? “Excuse me? I need my keys!” He was on all fours looking under the car. Traci was sure that her keys did not go under there; at least she hoped they did not. He returned to a standing position before taking long loping strides back to her. The keys jangling in his hand.

“What do I get for returning these?”

“A big thank you and a see you later,” Traci replied with exasperation. She did not want him to know that she found him attractive. God forbid that she did. She did not even know how to kiss. Maybe she should review how to kiss on YouTube. YouTube had everything. Google and YouTube were her go-to websites when she needed to know something. Thank God for them otherwise she would be lost.

“That’s it? Not even a kiss for saving your life.” He smiled and Traci realized that he had dimples. God, fuck it! He was bow legged, tall, lean with muscles and hard abs, dark sexy eyes, and now dimples too? All the attributes she found attractive on a man. Was this the man her horoscope kept telling her about? Traci thought he was way out of her league.

“I’m going to be late. I still need to eat my lunch.”

“How about a rain check?” He held her keys out to her, but still had a firm grip on them.

“Um… sure.” Traci reached for the keys, snatched them out of his hands, ducked her head, and unlocked her door. Looking back at his winking dimples, Traci sighed and entered her apartment, closed the door and leaned against if for a few minutes to calm her racing heart.

Stop Crying Americans!

​There’s no use crying over spilt milk. Now is the time to think of the future and the direction we want for America. I ask celebrities, politicians, and the media to start pushing midterm elections. You want to shake things up, then make sure every man and woman go to the polls on November 6, 2018, and vote Democrat. That is what the Republicans do, they rally their people on FoxNews to get out and vote. And what do we do, we make a big push every 4 years, and ask them to vote for the Presidency. Bring on the concerts, start pushing now! Two years is not that far away. 

The 2018 midterm elections take place on Tuesday, Nov. 6, 2018. American citizens 18 years of age and older at the time will be eligible to vote. Mark you calendars.

Change is Acoming…

Tightness in the chest as the numbers came in

Newscasters in their element

Predicting the outcome

Who will become President of the Free World?

State after state turning red in anger at the establishment

Bile rising up

Choking on the venom

Hate at my gate

At my color and creed

The news shatter liberal women who believe in equal rights and equal pay

A women’s right to choose

Gay Rights

Human Rights

An agenda of FEAR and HATE showed an America that everyone thought had died with slavery and women’s rights

Well now that we see that it is alive and well…

Watch your back!