Winifred
T hree months later…
“That little mothafucka know he is fine . You play too much, Freddie,” my homegirl Roni said as she rolled up to where I was stationed behind the podium at Gate B4.
I didn’t have to look up to see who she was referencing, intrinsically I just knew . I rolled my eyes, not giving her any indication that I was paying her any mind as I typed at the computer, making sure to update the display board with the current statuses of the folks on the standby list.
“Don’t act like you can’t hear me,” she pressed as she waited for the okay to head onto the aircraft.
I took my time, finishing up my task before turning my gaze upon her.
“Let’s get a couple things clear, Veronica ,” I started as I began holding up my fingers. “One—you’re not much older than Elijah so please ‘stop the cap’ as your nephew says. Two—nobody is playing, that young man is well below my age threshold. And finally, seventeenth of all, if you’ve got the hots for him, why don’t you shoot your shot?”
“What gate is this?” she asked suddenly, causing me to frown in confusion because it was posted in large letters in several areas of this space.
“B4,” I responded skeptically.
“Perfect for me to tell you to be for fucking real. Everybody and their dog knows that lil mister Elijah ain’t checking for nobody around here, but you. So you can countdown all ya lil reasons as much as you want to, but all you’re doing is making excuses.”
I bit my lip, breaking our gaze, feeling bad for keeping up the fallacy that I didn’t give two shits about this young man like that. Especially since the young man in question had been cracking my back like a glow stick at any opportunity afforded to him for the past few months. It was my preference, and his acquiescence to said preference, that kept us from getting found out at work. Now granted, Ron was one of my closest girlfriends in and outside of work, so she should have been privy to the information, but honestly?
It’d been kind of fun having this thing between Elijah and I be something of which only the two of us were aware. The subterfuge and cloak and dagger antics I’d been up to with him for the past few months added an additional layer of spice to this whole thing. Now, was that kind of an immature stance to take? Absolutely. However getting pregnant at nineteen then having to raise said child alone when their other parent was brutally removed from our lives had made maturity a prerequisite in my life at too early of an age. Now that my child was in young adulthood, I felt like I was entitled to a little maturation backsliding every now and again.
“I’m not making excuses, Ron,” I murmured.
“Okay, so then what’s the real reason? And don’t tell me that age shit because the difference between you and Eli is smaller than the difference between you and Big Jeans was and you let that elderly motherfucker court you for far too long.”
I dropped my head, trying my best not to emit the screaming laughter that bubbled up in my stomach at the mention of Jerome, who she and our other good girlfriend Kenni referred to as Big Jeans. Jerome had a lot in common with acclaimed basketball legend, and our transplanted hometown hero, Michael Jordan—smooth dark chocolate skin, a bald head, alluring smile, and also a penchant for wearing jeans that looked like they were manufactured by JNCO. He and I had run into the girls randomly when we were on a dinner date and their asses couldn’t wait to get into our group chat and light my notifications up behind the wide-legged monstrosities he insisted upon wearing. Beyond the jeans, Jerome had been such a nice guy, so I was willing to overlook the yards of denim fabric that seemed to always encase his legs for the six months that we’d dated. Eventually, like most other romance adjacent situations I’d been in over the past twenty years, that fizzled out and I was single once again.
“You gotta stop calling that man Big Jeans. And he was not elderly . He was a young and spry fifty-six,” I protested which just made Roni roll her eyes.
“Girl, that man in them big ass jeans and spry don’t belong anywhere in the same sentence. Stop the cap ,” she shot back at me and I rolled my eyes.
“Don’t you have a cabin to get ready, safety demonstration choreography to practice or something? Why are you still out here bothering me?” I fake-whined.
“Excuse me, miss?” a voice called and I put on my best, fake ass, happy to be here customer service smile.
“Hi there, how can I help you today, sir?”
“I couldn’t help but notice that my standby status hasn’t been updated. Can you tell me why?”
“Oop,” Roni whispered with raised brows. “I’ma let you handle that, sis.”
She scurried down the jet bridge and I got the customer’s information to figure out what was the holdup with his standby status. Turned out he was at the wrong gate, he’d just seen the airline and the destination city and assumed that this was the right spot. After directing him to where he needed to be, I finished up all of the pre-flight tasks I needed to handle before making my way down the jet bridge to hand off the manifest and the rest of the necessary paperwork to the flight crew. On my way back from that delivery, I peeped the baggage attendants loading all of the checked baggage into the belly of the aircraft. I stopped, discreetly I’d hoped, to catch a glimpse of Elijah as he worked alongside his crew. I’d never admit it to him or anyone else, but I loved seeing him in his element—talking shit with his coworkers, arm and back muscles flexing under his lil reflective vest as he loaded the luggage.
“Mmmmhmmm,” I heard from behind me and turned to see a smirking Roni. “I see you even when you don’t think I do.”
“Shut up,” I muttered as I scurried back to the main gate area to do pre-boarding announcements then start the process of loading passengers onto the plane.
Thankfully this flight wasn’t too packed, so it would be a simple and quick process, barring any foolishment happening at the last minute. The rest of my work day continued without incident, but that didn’t stop me from gleefully skipping my ass out of there and onto the transit to take me to the employee parking lot.
A prickle of awareness sizzled through my body as soon as I stepped onto the bus and I didn’t have to look up to know that the only person who’d ever made me have a physical response at just his mere presence was also on his way home. I kept it cute, settling onto one of the front seats and willing myself not to peer backwards to get a glance at him. Of course, he wasn’t going for that at all as he called out, “Damn, , you gon’ act like you don’t even see a brotha back here?”
I pursed my lips, then bit back a grin as I allowed my eyes to trail to the back row of the bus where he sat, arms casually draped along the backs of the seats, legs spread arrogantly like he dared anyone to impede on his space. His dark eyes held mine captive as a slow smirk crawled across his face.
“Man, if you don’t leave that woman alone. How many ways she gotta tell you that your weak ass game ain’t it,” one of his coworkers cracked.
I let my smile unfurl then as I lifted my head in acknowledgement of not only Elijah but the other man whose name I couldn’t recall. Seconds later my phone buzzed with a text.
Really? The homeboy head nod is all I get?
I hadn’t even seen him reach for his phone with his slick ass. I was just as quick with my response.
Was I supposed to come crawl into your lap, bury my fingers in your beard, and say hey big daddy?
My phone pinged again instantly.
Shiiiid, if that’s an option I’ll take it.
I shook my head, giggling under my breath.
Only in your fantasies, playboy.
Speaking of fantasies…tonight?
I’ll be around.
Say less.
I put my phone away as a self-satisfied grin settled upon my face. Taking a chance, I peeped out of my periphery to see Elijah with a damn near identical grin on his. It wasn’t always a guarantee that I’d see him, but boy did it make me feel like a giddy schoolgirl with a secret when our paths crossed at work. He had the easy job since everyone knew he’d been sniffing after me damn near since the first day he’d begun working for the airline. Keeping up the facade that I was unaffected by his advances was becoming increasingly hard for me to maintain though the more he and I spent time together. I did my best Oscar caliber acting every rip, praying like hell I didn’t do too much which would cause antennas of suspicion to arise in anyone who observed us.
After disembarking the shuttle to the employee lot, I quickly walked to my car, sliding into it feeling the giddiness that always traveled through me when I knew I was on the precipice of some time spent with Elijah. Even the traffic on my drive home wasn’t a deterrent to remove the grin of anticipation from my face. After reheating the lasagna I’d made earlier in the week and wolfing it down for a quick dinner, I hopped into the shower—exfoliating and buffing my skin to maximum softness and moisturizing with the warm vanilla body oil he’d expressed loving to smell on my skin.
I came out of the shower to… annoying news. A simple, four-word text from Elijah.
Rain check? Family emergency.
The most annoying thing here was I couldn’t react to it to any extreme. That wasn’t how this little situationship that wasn’t a situationship operated between us. We’d fallen into a sort of hierarchical way of deciding to get together that worked well for all parties involved as far as I knew. He hit me up, I decided if I wanted to be bothered, responded in kind, and by the end of the encounter, everyone involved was left satisfied. It was casual, lacking any sort of pressure on either end. Both parties were well aware of the— lack of —expectations and unspoken boundaries.
I was breezy in my response.
No problem. Hope all is well or quickly resolved.
I exchanged the robe I’d put on that was more for show than actual coverage for a big ass, ratty t-shirt, and my comfiest, plush socks, then slid into bed, pulling up Netflix. I was behind on the latest season of one of their terrible reality dating shows, so that was how I'd be spending the rest of my night. After quite a bit of time passed with no response from Elijah after my last text, I assumed the situation was actually emergent and sent up a quick prayer of general covering for his family.
I had no context for what said emergency could be because we didn’t do that—sharing details about our personal lives. Hell, beyond knowing where he worked and that he had a slick ass mouthpiece in more ways than one, I didn’t know much else about Elijah. And I was perfectly fine with that. I wasn’t trying to fall in love, instead allowing myself to indulge in this little fling with him for however long it lasted. I could only hope that he at least had the wherewithal to keep things monogamous, since we’d had a few slip-ups when it came to safety precautions because we were too caught up in the moment.
I wasn’t worried about a little EliFred being an option since I’d had the equipment that made that a possibility removed thanks to fibroids. I did need to remember, however, that if I let us get a little too loosey goosey with the protection and he was laying low and spreading it wide, I could still end up with an incurable lifetime remembrance. Just the thought made me pull out my phone to see if I could schedule an appointment with my gynecologist to make sure everything was all clear on that front still. We’d both gotten tested once I gave into this being a regular thing between us, but again, I didn’t know where his dick was on the nights that it wasn’t with me.
I must’ve been too busy being Judge Freddie Brown while watching these folks make fools of themselves on that Netflix show that I’d missed my phone notifying me of an updated message from Elijah sent about twenty minutes ago. I frowned looking at the notification because it indicated that there was a video attached to the message.
“What in the world is he sending me a video about?” I murmured as I clicked to open it and… “ Gahdamn .”
The still of the video showcased my second favorite part of Elijah in HD, the thick and heavy, richly-veined, rosewood colored weapon of uterine destruction he carried between his legs. The part of his body that had the honor of being my favorite was his tongue, inarguably, because the things he did with that motherfucker should be restricted by law, but also honored with the highest distinctions from local, state, and national legislature. I shivered just thinking about it as I pressed play.
“,” Elijah’s baritone crooned as one hand slowly stroked the semi-erect muscle in his palm before the phone’s POV switched so that now his face was in frame. A scowl of annoyance covered his face before he continued.
“This mothafucka should be balls deep in your sweet ass pussy instead of having date night with Palmela. Unfortunately the incompetence of others ruined the plans I had for absolutely destroying you tonight. I’ve never been a man short on solutions though, so FaceTime me when you get this.”
The camera view switched once again as his hand fisted his dick to the point of strangulation as he leisurely slid it up and down once, twice, then… fuck . The video ended at that point and I sat up, face scrunched in irritation. Not him being a literal dick tease. Without even thinking too much about it, I navigated to his contact information and hit the button to connect us via video chat. I felt like the ringer had barely chimed before the call connected and I was blessed with the view of a shirtless Elijah smirking at me.
“Whassup, ?” he said nonchalantly.
He looked so damn good laying there. His eyes set a little low and slightly tinged red in combination with his relaxed speech letting me know that he’d taken some time for a little herbal respite before my call.
“Really? You gon’ act like this is a normal thing for us and I wasn’t summoned?” I sassed back.
One of his brows peaked as he let out a slow rumble of a chuckle. “Summoned? Damn, it’s like that?”
“Did you not request that I contact you?”
He gave me a slow nod. “I did. Honestly, I was unsure whether or not the message would be well-received, but what do they say? Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?”
“Mmmmhmmm. So whassup, Elijah?” I said, throwing his opening line back at him.
“You know you fine as hell, right?” he responded, making me bite my lip and look away from the camera briefly.
“Oh please, you can barely see me,” I said, trying like hell to not show just how deeply affected I was by his compliment.
“That’s a problem you can easily fix for me. Turn on some lights around that mothafucka. Let me see your pretty ass fully.”
Anyone else would have gotten cussed out, but instead I found myself shifting around in my bed, leaning over to the side table to find the remote to illuminate my room.
“Hell yeah, that’s what I’m talking about. See, just like I said, fine as hell ,” Elijah said with a little groan in his tone.
“Is that why you needed me to video call you?” I asked. “I could go down to the Quik Trip for this premium unleaded.”
“Shiiiiit, part of it,” he drawled, then bit down on his lower lip. “Nah, I’m fuckin’ with you, beautiful. I just wanted to apologize, in real time, for tonight getting thrown off course.”
“It’s still early enough that you could have still swung through,” I said, then immediately regretted it when I saw a broad grin emerging on his face.
So much for playing it cool, Freddie .
“Believe me, if that were possible, we would be having this conversation face to face. But an unexpected responsibility is keeping me in the crib tonight.”
My mind raced with thoughts of trying to decode what he wasn’t saying. What the fuck did an “unexpected responsibility” mean? And why would it make him housebound? That sounded like baby mama drama. I could feel my face scrunching as I thought to myself if I’d missed any signs of him being somebody’s pappy in the time we’d been dealing with one another.
“I can see the wheels turning in your head all the way over here,” Elijah said, breaking into my thoughts. “I can explain, if you need me to?”
I quickly shook my head. “No, no. You don’t owe me any explanation. We’re just taking things as they go, yeah? I don’t have the right to demand anything more than you’re willing to give.”
“True, but—” he started and I shook my head again, holding up a hand.
“You’re all good, Elijah. I’m not stressing the change in plans.”
“Oh, you must’ve called one of your other hoes over to take care of things for you then?”
“Boy!” I screeched, letting out a loud crack of laughter at the perturbed look on his face. When it didn’t shift to join me in humor, I sobered and said, “I didn’t call in backup dick, Elijah. I just understand that sometimes life gets in the way. A minor disappointment, but I’ll get over it.”
“Damn, minor? Ouch,” he said, with a grimace that immediately had me stammering to clarify until I noticed the amused gleam in his eye.
“What do you want, Elijah?” I gritted out with artificial displeasure.
“I want to still make you cum,” he stated plainly and my mouth dropped. “I mean, it won’t be the same, but I figured I could talk you through one… or several. If you fuckin’ with it. I started to ask you to send me a video back, but instead figured it’d be more worth both of our whiles if we did it in real time. So what do you say? I showed you mine and am more than willing to show you more of it if you show me yours?”
I giggled at his proposition, hedging for a bit as I weighed the pros and cons of this. Since it wouldn’t be recorded, there was no chance of this coming back to bite me and it was more than likely that I would have ended up giving myself a consolation orgasm before eventually falling asleep anyway.
“I ain’t ever done no shit like this,” I murmured.
“I’d be honored to be your first. Now take them titties out, I’m tryna see ’em,” Elijah quipped, making me giggle once again.
“There is something wrong with you.”
“Or is everything right with me? Stop stalling, beautiful.”
Was I really about to have video chat sex with this man? He switched his phone’s angle to show his hand wrapped around his dick that leaked just the tiniest bit of precum and had my mouth watering like it was a coveted dessert.
“Ha-have you been stroking your dick the entire time we’ve been talking?”
“Yep,” he responded in a low grumble. “Is that a problem?”
“Not at all,” I whispered, making him release a chuckle as he switched his phone’s view back to his face.
“Show me then, gorgeous,” he crooned.
I shifted around in my bed, trying to figure out the best way to maneuver so I could hold my phone and give him what he was asking for.
“You’re thinking about this way too hard . Prop that phone against your footboard, take off that damn muumuu, and show me my pussy, .”
“It’s not a muumuu,” I grumbled with a pout.
“Really?” Elijah deadpanned. “That’s your concern right now?”
“All right, all right. Don’t get your nutsack in a bunch,” I replied as I followed his directives, tossing my nightshirt and giving him the view of me fully nude, pleased when he put the camera’s focus back on his dick. As I laid back to get comfortable however I frowned, something Elijah picked up on immediately.
“What’s wrong?” he droned.
“I’m making this unsexy, ain’t I?”
“ Kinda ,” was his easy response, making me groan in embarrassment. “But for real, what’s the matter now?”
“I can’t see you,” I replied with a whine in my tone before a thought hit me. “Hold on though, let me just…” I shifted back toward my phone, pressed a combination of buttons and… “There we go,” I said, resettling the phone back to where it was, but now the call was streaming to my television so I didn’t have any more problems seeing anything now. Shoutout to the advent of technology.
“You all good now?” he asked smugly and I nodded. “Good, now open up wide so I can see that pretty pink pussy…”