See You Tomorrow…

A “Last Black Queen” Story

Notes App Entry 1: September 12, 2019 at 2:52pm

26. I went to that Rite-Aid 26 times last month. 26! She had to be thinking, “Ain’t no way one woman needs that many pads!” I was smart about it though. Sometimes I’d buy Coco-Butter (The battle against ashiness rages on), Pink Lester Lotion for my hair… sometimes a new Du-Rag for our son, there was this one time I bought a bag of those Tide Pods knowing got damn well we don’t use ’em at home. (And they WEREN’T on sale. Expensive a$$, dime bags of soap!) But how else was I supposed to see her? I tried figuring out her schedule but never could. All I knew was I had just enough time to run in after work, buy something I didn’t need, see her… sit in my car for 10 mins afterwards with my “Rabbit” (I keep it in that one purse in the back of the closet I never use. That reminds me: I need to buy some more batteries.) and then pick up our son from his Mother’s.

The first few times I went in, I didn’t even really say anything. She’d ask me how my day was going, I’d make up some bullshit, she’d smile and… her lips. I don’t think I’ve ever seen lips so… I don’t even know. It’s like they were designed perfectly. The shape… that little “V” type curve on the middle of her upper lip. She never wore lipstick — at least not to work. Just lip gloss. Not globed on there like other girls her age. (She just graduated college so shut up!) Just enough to accentuate. Just enough to make me look… to stare… to dream about it at night, as my husband snored his way through another one of MY sleepless nights. But I could tell she felt something. The way she made sure to ring me up and not someone else, the way she’d smile and look down after we looked at each other for too long. Hell, so did I! I mean, I didn’t know what I was doing. Monday bled into Tuesday, Tuesday bled into Wednesday. It was the same old, same old: work, kids, dinner, kids, clean, kids, husband… LATHER, RINSE, REPEAT. (Ima stop you right there in case you were wondering: I LOVE my husband! He’s my best friend. I’ve known him… God… it’s been that long? He’s there for me. He’s always been there…………..) Then one day, I said fuck it! I pulled in to the first Rite Aid I saw, planned to buy a pack of Black and Milds and smoke the shit outta of em! I was tired of everyday feeling exactly the same. I was tired of forgetting what fucking day it was because EVERYDAY WAS EXACTY THE SAME! I gave up smoking for my husband because he’s allergic. We got rid of MY cat because my sons are allergic. We moved across the country because… never mind. I just wanted one day — one fucking moment that wasn’t about anyone else but me. I had it all planned out too! I was gonna spark one up, pull a pic of my husband up on my phone and pretend to blow it right in his face. “Take that, Take that!” (In my Diddy voice) So I STORMED in there… with my purse… you know, the one I keep at the back of the closet. I was’t paying attention and ran right into her and of course… my Rabbit fell out! It was already a little broke so as soon as it hit the floor, it cut on and started vibrating… right there… in front of her. And there we were… the two of us… and my Rabbit. I was… whatever is beyond shock — that’s what I was in. A state of Beyond Shock. I grabbed it, threw it back in my purse and she helped me pick everything else up. When we got back to our feet… I saw her. I’d love to tell you something beautiful like, “Once I saw her hazel eyes…” but why lie, right? LOL! I saw her lips. Those juicy, succulent lips. They just… I don’t know. Her coffee skin… I made my way down and followed the curve of her neck to her chest. She was off but still had her work uniform on. This ugly dark blue shirt but it looked like she washed it in hot water or something because it looked like it barely fit — thankfully. I stood there and scanned every… single… inch of her body before I realized time was still marching forward and it was probably pretty weird to just be staring at this girl. But she just smiled and said, “Hmm, mine is blue.” We shared a laugh and she told me batteries were in Aisle 11. I didn’t need batteries. But sure enough, I grabbed a pack, she rang me up, passed me my change and — you know, I’m just remembering: She does this thing where she grabs my hand and puts the change in, as if to make sure I don’t drop any of the pennies. Her hand… it was so soft and warm. Always warm. I never really believed in energies and chakras and all that jazz but every time she grabbed my hand, I swear I could feel her energy. I’ve never felt anything like it. 26 times I came to that Rite Aid. Looked into her eyes… bought shit I didn’t need… felt her warmth and went out to my car and imagined what it would be like if there was no one in that Rite Aid but us? What it would be like to hop over that counter, caress her face, pull her close and kiss her? To untuck her shirt… unbuckle her belt…unzip her pants and… RING!!!!! And like clockwork, my other life calls and reminds me to pick up the dry cleaning or asks me to take them to Gamestop. You know: #Mom$hit.

26 times. I don’t know numbers. Is 26 special or something? I don’t know. It has to be because the 27th time I went to Rite Aid…it was different. Sure, it started off like any other slightly stalker-ish one of my visits. I grabbed something I didn’t need, went to her register and…you know the rest. But, this time was different. For starters: the place was empty. I mean, it’s Rite Aid! There should always be at least a few randos roaming the aisles but this time? The 27th time? No one. Not a got damn soul. I slide her a pack of Burt’s Bees Lip Balm and…she doesn’t scan it. I wait… shoot her one of my awkward smiles but… nothing. “Everything OK,” I ask. She looks at me, grabs the Burt’s Bees but walks away. I’m confused. This is so not our thing. Did I do something wrong? Did I scare her off? I don’t know what to do. I follow her and start to ask what’s wrong when I see her walk to the front doors… and lock ’em. She cuts off the front lights so it looks like the place is closed. She turns around, walks up to me, grabs my hand and leads me down an aisle toward the back. “Where are we going?” She doesn’t answer. My heart’s racing. I can’t even describe what I feel. I’m scared. But not like horror movie scared or I’m about to be arrested scared. It’s like the part of the rollercoaster where you slow creep your way to the top and for a brief moment… you just sit there at the top… staring down at the world. You don’t know what’s about to happen but you want it — desperately. You want that feeling. No matter how fleeting it may be — you want it. That’s the kind of scared I was. I knew what was going to happen but… was I ready? Would I mess it up? What if she doesn’t like my body?

We walk into the Manager’s Office. She locks the door and backs me against the desk in the back — staring at me the whole time. “What if someone walks in,” I stuttered. “They’re unloading the truck in the back.” She walks up to me and slowly unbuttons my blouse. As she gets closer to the bottom, my heart is just about to burst through my damn chest. She can tell. She takes my hand…and puts it on her chest. I feel her heartbeat and it’s beating out of her chest just like mine but for some reason…it calms me. She slowly unzips my pants and…I’m not gonna lie, all I could think was: Thank fuck I shaved last night! She pulls down my pants…then my underwear. She doesn’t take them off, just keeps them around my ankles. She wraps her soft, warms hands around my back and just glides them up and down, slowly. I can’t take it anymore! I’m about to grab her when she pulls me close and kisses me. Strawberry. My favorite. (It’s actually blueberry but strawberry is like a close…4th. Her kiss though? Solid 2nd now.) I’m used to taking control with my husband in the bed but with her? I don’t know… She kisses me like I’m hers. Like she wants me. Like I belong to her. Her lips make their way down my throat…to my chest. She slides my bra strap down and gently kisses my shoulder. I’ve…I just…I don’t know. She kneels and lays me down on the desk as my thighs tighten. I mean she had to be 24–25? There had to be girls and guys all up and down her “Swipe Right” list. What was I doing here — with her?! She obviously takes care of herself. Not like a supermodel or anything. Just thick in Every. Single. Place. And naturally beautiful. Not cute. Beautiful. Flowing natural hair. Curly. She sucks on my inner thigh until she makes her way to my clit and I could sit here and type a NOVEL on how she ate my pussy like certified professional, I could go into great detail on how her tongue sent SHOCKWAVES throughout my entire body…but we don’t have the time. Just know that she did things to me that my husband has never done in 15 years! I tried to cover my mouth to keep my moans from echoing beneath the locked door but… she pulled them away! I didn’t get it! Was she trying to get us caught? Then she stopped, kissed me and whispered, “Just let go…” And for the first time… I let go. I let her take me and when she was done… my body felt… it was like a mixture of feeling numb and like I was plugged into a car battery. She grabbed my hands, pulled me up, pulled my underwear and pants back up, fastened my belt, kissed me and just like that, she unlocked the front doors… I bought the Burt’s Bees lip balm that I didn’t need and headed back to my car with an unused Rabbit in my purse. We shared a smile, not our normal smile… a different one. And as I left she said, “See you tomorrow?”