Have you ever made love before? Not that quick, rough, pumping sex you have after a night out and the high from that āYou up?ā text has got you going, no Iām talking about real love making. The love is writhing and rotating between the two of you, I mean you can FEEL it being created as your bodies do that familiar dance. You want more, they want more, because what youāre creating isnāt just physically pleasurable, it stimulates your whole being... See Iāve done that just once in my life before and it has fucked everything up for me every since.
Senior year of college in Greensboro all you want is a fucking blunt, a paycheck and your degree. Thatās it. If you havenāt joined an organization by now donāt even worry about it, youāre officially almost nonexistent on campus and thatās how you wanted it to be.
While a good majority of my friends had graduated in May, my senior year had extended to the fall semester so I would have to wait until December to turn my tassel. The fall graduation also extended my living situation another year that I had not planned nor saved for and why would I? There was weed to buy nigga!
To help my parents pay for my rent I decided to return to my old fast food job, I wonāt say which one but if you have four dollars and some change you had a nice meal that could hold you for two hours. It was my second go round working there (I had previously worked there my sophomore year) and the manager, Ms. B was just as much of a crazy pastorās wife looking bitch as before. Just imagine Shirley Caesar 5ā9 with permanent shoulder pads and Shenehnehās wig-you see it? Okay, that was my manager, she was loud, mean, blunt, and still one of the best women I know. She was the type of grandmother that my sensitive soul couldnāt handle so God sent her to me in another way-every reprimand stung for me and I had to learn not to take it personally. She was strong and I loved that about her and she loved me too. I was great with the customers inside and even better with them when I worked the drive thru, coming back to that job was like riding a bike. Listening to an order with four number 3 meals, two large and two medium. Oh and can one of the drinks be a half and half vanilla/chocolate shake? She loved how I would shove the ice in the cups, pour drinks and begin taking another order all before the former car has even paid for their meal. I had to be like that or Ms. B was going to bitch me out in front of everyone and loudly too. Her voice was like the crack of the whip, almost everybody would jump or got into their respective places when they knew she was around or heard her coming. She noticed everything which always annoyed me when I would be trying to sneak a four piece nugget in my pocket to snack on so that I could soothe the hunger pains stabbing my stomach.
I worked five days a week and also had class five days a week so morning shift was my friend. Waking up at 7:30am just barely making it to the 8am shift was a real struggle for me, especially since my shift was supposed to start at the time I got up. But, I had gotten used to it, and at eight in the morning my work started. Slicing tomatoes, breaking up red onions, opening fresh packs of mayonnaise (six containers of each) and also making bacon.
Now the bacon was the hard part. In the morning it was a bit easier since we opened at 10am. If I had gotten to work at my scheduled time I may not have been so overwhelmed but it was my senior year and if I didnāt want to be in my class I needed to graduate what the hell did I look like rushing to work for less than $9 an hour?
There was a process to the bacon that is simply too long to explain. In verbatim, there are six sheet pans you use to cook the bacon in the oven at a time. Six pans = one tin container of bacon. Before morning shift starts, Ms. B wanted ten containers of bacon ready. Two for each sandwich maker and then another six on the side over a warmer filled with a a bit of boiling water-to keep it hot. It was a tiring process, bacon got too burnt? Put another six in, start again. Bacon not done yet? Keep it in for another three minutes then itāll be perfect. But shit, I havenāt even starting putting the fucking mayo in smaller tins, gotta go to the free- āJADA DID YOU CUT UP THEM TOMATOES YET?ā Ms. B would yell that from her office, she knew I forgot. Lemme get these tomatoes. Slicing, slicing, slicing, putting them in the tin containers. Slicing, slicing slicing, more containers. Slicing, slicing, cut your left pointer finger. Red drips down and the pain is almost not there but at the same time you can feel it. āJADA IS THAT BACON BURNING??ā
Got to start another six pans.
These were my mornings from May to December. It would usually just be me, Ms. B and another older lady, Ms. Lydia who for some reason enjoyed being Ms. Bās bitch although they were around the same age and same height. Always āyes maāamā-ing her like a house slave. By 10am the orders started and I was always the one taking orders until about 11 or 11:30, making my job duties change to taking orders and money, washing dishes, cutting bacon to put in the fridge so that itād be ready for whoever my replacement was and trying not to burn my final six pans of bacon.
Either Jessica or Devon would come in and take over taking orders while I rushed finished my other duties before 1:30pm which was when I was off because at 2pm, I had class. If Jessica was coming in, it was definitely going to be a giggle fest. The customers loved her and so did I. She was five foot even, had beautiful caramel skin was just a naturally beautiful woman with brown playful eyes. All types of men wanted her affection but her girlfriend was the apple of her eye, she couldnāt be swayed. From the moment I met her we clicked. From jokes, to relationships, to marijuana we meshed. It was like I was meant to be there with her to survive this job because she sure as hell made coming to work a lot easier. She had my back at work and outside of it and I always spoke up for her whenever Ms. B made a slick comment about her (She would always say āI donāt know why you and Jessica have to always be talkinā backā ābecause you always talkinā hoeā was my telepathic response).
When Devon would come in, it was a āhiā and ābyeā situation. I had avoided that particular burger joint my senior yet to hopefully wipe of greasy memories from working there as a sophomore so to come back was a little embarrassing. There were a few people I knew that were still working there but they werenāt in school. The Locals is what us college kids called them. The Locals werenāt going anywhere anytime soon. Most had kids and were in their late 20s or early 30s. Making my stomach drop and forcing me to think āWhatās next? What happens when December ends?ā
Devon was A Local, born and raised in Greensboro and had went to college for a year before withdrawing-he was an In-Betweener. He was three years my senior but didnāt work there when I did previously yet he was an amazing worker. Always on point, always clear and fast too. He was about 5ā10 and had a very strong build, but you knew he also indulged in an extra slice of cake or two. Not chubby but solid. A man. Skin the perfect walnut color with a full low black beard, not that scraggly at all. Devon wore glasses, black frames and square and his work hat covered his completely shaved head. Iāve always liked guys that knew having a shaved head was much better than sporting a barely there hairline or premature balding. Completely shaving it all off told me that that particular man was realistic and in touch with what is. I like people like that, who donāt live in a fantasy and know how to accept things how they are.
Devon was attractive, plain & simple. But was he my type? The hell if I knew, I didnāt think I had a type. After a break up with my boyfriend of two and a half years I didnāt give a fuck about a ātypeā. Give me liberty or give me dick. But I had gotten tired of the random, late night fucks. Itās great, donāt get me wrong, but having someone that loves you after he orgasms is the thing I missed the most. I was tired of dealing with men in general and my focus was on graduating and paying my rent. Everything else in between that was a distraction.Ā
Anyway, Devon was a dweeb for sure. When heād take orders sometimes heād change his accent. Going from a terrible āEnglishā accent to an even worse āAfricanā accent. He mostly took orders in his normal voice but on occasion when he was extra bored heād switch up to entertain himself. His Johnny Cash impression was pretty good though.
We had been working together for about two and a half months. By that time I stayed away from almost every side conversation that came my way if it wasnāt from Jessica. I just wanted to work these measly six hours and go the fuck home, nothing more, nothing less. Iād speak to Devon in passing. (āCan I get some ice please?ā āHe says his burger was supposed to have no ketchup, not no mustardā āCan I get a small fry please?ā ) and he was always so helpful. I appreciated it immensely. When things were busy weād bump into each other at the fry station-it was very tight over there no more than about three feet of space. Everyone was always squeezing, knocking and prodding into one anotherās rib cage. Devon would fill up a carton of fries while simultaneously elbowing my tit as I waited to stand over the hot bulbs and get my carton of fries. Other days I couldnāt wait and Iād have to force myself to get there, if he was standing there Iād lightly touch his back to let him know he was about to get pushed out of the way. I couldnāt wait to go home and smoke.
When we had slow moments weād chat. Or rather theyād talk while I eavesdropped and cleaned my area, because if you werenāt cleaning or stocking something Ms. B would ask you why. Now you standing there looking lazy and stupid. I learned in life that itās best for you to do what you know needs to be done without someone telling you to. I was cleaning around front counter after the lunch crowd cleared out. The lunch rush is what you fear and also what you thank God for because it allowed three hours to go by and you were really working. No jokes, no kikis, straight up labor.
As I was cleaning up, Devon and the sandwich maker that day Ahmad were joking around like guys do and ended up on the subject of Spongebob Squarepants, which then leads Devon into a ballad of āStriped Sweaterā.
āWhat in the fuck...ā I think to myself. I had to turn away to keep from laughing in their faces. These grown niggas singing a song from a cartoon. Graduate me please. It wasnāt so silly that I was annoyed but it was silly because I hadnāt seen that type of carelessness and vulnerability before from a guy since my break up. A lot of men in college I surrounded myself with were professionals in training. Already thinking about what they were going to do next when I myself hadnāt even started to think about whatās happening right in front of me. But that also made them stiff to me-as if they cared too much about how the world was going to perceive them once they left the university world. Iām sure Devon was not attempting to portray himself as carefree, he was just singing a song from memory. He was just being himself, a funny and unapologetic square who loved Christian hip hop. But thatās when I finally noticed him. He was watching me think because when I turned his way he quickly looked around and pressed on his headset-oh heās just taking an order. No words come out. Yeah, he was watching me.
The days went by and we would talk more and more. Little bids here and there. His quirkiness & sweetness made me feel good. I didnāt know it then but thatās how I felt. One day, during our shift while it was slow and we were talking he asks āDo you have a Facebook?ā
āOkay type your name in and then Iāll add youā
And so it began. So not only was I able to see Devon at work, but Iād come home, take a shower and see what post heād tag me in, reactions to my statuses. Iād see comments on my pictures āYou think you cuteā āLips!!ā It was fun. Playing that little game. See Iām not stupid, men are men. He looks good, I look good, I mean come on. As fun as this was I knew we were going to get down to business-real business. Grown business. He was still living with his family on the other side of Greensboro and I had my own place. āLet me know when youāre ready for me because I amā was the aura I was beginning to give off to him. I knew he wanted it but didnāt know what to say or how to initiate it properly. He was treading lightly and I appreciated it so I decided to take the reins and invite him over.
The first time he came over I wasnāt nervous. It was going to be my own research project as to why or why not he deserved to be inside me. We were just going to watch something on TV, snack, talk about work and then heād leave and Iād make my decision from there. I had been off that day but had already showered a crowded library and the gym stench from my tired body. I very much wanted to reschedule his presentation but it wouldāve been my third time rescheduling with him and I knew he wouldnāt have came over at all if I pushed it to another day-a guy has his limits. Plus I figured the visit would be short, no more than an hour then back to my blunt and Netflix. A modern romance.
A text then knock at the door alerted me of Devonās presence. My roommates were gone so I had the apartment to myself for a while with no distractions so I could really make my decision. I opened the door and there he was, fresh off work in his all black uniform. The stench of grease and old meat filled my nostrils and apartment making my stomach turn. I smiled.
āHey how are you?ā I asked motioning for him to come in further.
āIām good, just tired.ā He said while coming in and standing over me. Devon was inches away and I could smell the nuggets he ate on his breath. I looked up at him and realized how much taller than me his when I donāt have my work shoes. I felt little, but safe. He give me a nice warm hug I lowkey didnāt want because now my Dove body wash was getting mixed with grease. As he pulled away he took off his book bag and work shoes and his height fell two inches-thatās better. I looked down as saw three holes in his socks but didnāt say anything, nor did he. He was tired and took the bus to faithfully to make it to work and home every day. āIāll buy him some moreā I thought to myself.
I walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge, āYou want some juice?ā I ask. I had bought some just for him because he loves sweet drinks. Sodas, juice, ICEEās, whatever. As long as it had some type of simple syrup in it, that nigga was gonna drink it. No answer. I turned and looked back at him and caught him looking at me. Like it was the first time heād really seen me. And technically it was, heād never seen my outside of work or outside of a picture on whatever social media account. No, he was looking at me now. The at home Jada. The Jada that very rarely wears a bra or panties at home and who has much more under her work uniform then he guessed. Whose skin shines with moisturizer instead of sweat from work, the tattoos he didnāt know she had on that pretty brown skin. He was seeing me for the first time and I knew he liked what he saw. I liked that he liked it.
If you can āhuhā you can hear. āDo you want some juice?ā I asked again.
I dipped my head into the fridge to cool my face and pretend to look around for the one juice that was sitting in front of me. The heat from my face was matching the heat downtown where my second brain (aka vagina) was located.
He sat on the couch and patiently waited as I poured his drink. Talking about some sports notification he got on his phone-like I gave a fuck. As I brought him his cup of juice he reached into his book bag and pulled out a bag of food from our job and traded me. I opened I sat next to him and I saw that it was filled with four chocolate chip cookies from our job. It costs ninety-nine cents to add to any meal and customers rarely took advantage of it. I picked up the slack for their obliviousness and stole cookies whenever the coast was clear. Devon would help and drop them in my bag when Iād be leaving for class. He knew they were my favorite.
I smiled again. Two smiles in less than five minutes? Yes itās a wrap. āThank you, I appreciate itā I told him.
āYouāre welcome big heedā
I rolled my eyes, this nigga is so corny I love it. āHow was work today?ā
He sucked his teeth, āMan you know how it is, Ms. B yelling, hungry construction workers, annoying college kids like you.ā He smirked at the end and looked at me out of the side of his eye.
āWhat the hell ever.ā I softly nudged him.
The TV was turned to Family Feud and he seemed interested but I was not. Steve Harvey and his constant disbelief at outlandish answers was getting old but I put up with it for the sake of nostalgia.
We chatted, watched TV and showed each other things on our phone. Devon gulped down his juice and set it on my mamaās wooden coffee table. āYour place is niceā, he observed, āYou donāt stay by yourself do you?ā.
āNoā, I answered āI have two roommates but one is moving out in a couple weeks.ā
Silence. Thinking. Thinking about us here alone together. Wondering.Things could happen, they should. Back to reality.
āDo you wanna watch anything else?ā I asked him and handed him the roommate.
He took it from me and put it back on the coffee table. āNah I donāt mind watching thisā, he says and he wrapped his arm around me.
Ahh shit. I hadnāt been this close to a male body fully clothed in a minute. Although he smelled like an air fryer he felt so soft and firm. I relaxed but still squirmed under his arm. Not out of being uncomfortable but to give some sort of relief to my pulsating lower brain. This moment had been brewing since we started talking outside of work. The slick comments, innuendos and fake eye rolls had all lead up to this. As soon as Devon pulled me to him, the faucet turned on. Baby she was ready, begging, yearning almost. She needed it. Now.
āYou good?ā He asked and looked at me. We were so fucking close I could smell the last of the sweet juice on his breath. His pouty full lips were inches away. So no my nigga, I am not good and I would like your lips on both sets of mine, please and thanks.
āYea, Iām fineā I croaked out. Perfect now I sound like a twelve year-old.
āMhm okay.ā He said still looking at me. Or in me rather because he was looking deep into my eyes. As if my eyes were going to give him the answer to a question he just thought of asking. With his left arm around me he held my face with his right and kissed me deep but gentle (thatās how all of our encounters would be...). Firm enough to let me know he was a grown man but also soft enough to let me know he knew how to take his time. It was like kissing a plump cloud, very soft and I needed more. The kiss went from sweetness to straight up lust in a flash. I pushed myself up to give more mouth and he pressed right back into it. Opening his mouth slightly I went in for the kill and slipped my tongue into his mouth. Tracing it and he held on to my face. He tasted so sweet. The kiss continued and an electric shock went down to the middle of my green sweatpants. I moaned in his mouth. He moaned back. The front door swung open.
It was my roommate that was moving and her boyfriend. And here I was in her couch pre-best orgasm of my life sucking face. Welcome home. Me and Devon quickly separated out of embarrassment and also gratefulness. Had they come five minutes later we would have been much more than roommates, definitely family.
āHey how are yāall doing?ā I asked sweetly. I know we looked nuts, my shirt was twisted, weāre breathing heavy, it smells like fries in here. Sheās gonna call the fucking cops on me. We had only been leaving together for a few weeks. We barely spoke or saw each other because she was in nursing school. Gone early in the morning, coming in in the evening and going straight to bed. She didnāt even use the kitchen. A quiet girl who never interfered, I hope sheās doing well. Devon and I scooted away from each other slightly to look more comfortable and less like humping rabbits.
āGood, you?ā She said with some surprise in her voice and eyes. Her boyfriend glanced quickly then looked straight ahead making a beeline for Jordanās room. I didnāt answer and watched as she shuffled behind him. Good, hurry up and get the fuck in your room. I wanted to turn the desire up a few more notches in here. It was early September and in Greensboro the breeze begins to get crisper in the evenings. The cold air they brought in when they opened the door turned the heat down that we had generated.
As the door closed to Jordanās room I looked at him and smiled. He kissed me again and held my face. āYouāre so pretty with those dimples.ā
I cheesed harder. Marry me.
Devon released my face and checked his phone. āI gotta go lil mama.ā
My heart broke. Not really but the one in my vagina sure did. If the sex was like the kiss it was definitely going to give me what I needed, and wanted.Ā
āJust ask him if he wanna fuck you from behind in the doorway real quickā, my Lower Brain whispered.
āCalm the fuck do-well thatās not a bad idea, I donāt think my other roommate is going to be home for a -no. Stop, just relax.ā my Actual Brain decided.
āOh, well alright. Can you come by again tomorrow?ā I asked him hopefully. He stood up and walked to put his shoes back on and I followed. As I walked it felt like a puddle of lust was in between my legs. Send help.Ā Ā
Devon turned and looked down at me, pulling me close to him by my waist. I could feel the hardness in his pants slowly depleting.
Lower Brain,Ā āGirl thatās just how he gon look when yāall fuckā
RB: Bitch, I know I canāt wait, shut up!ā
He kissed me deep again, but quick, so he wouldnāt get us both started again.Ā āI canāt do tomorrow, but Tuesday after I get off at five I can come by.ā
LB: Tuesday is a day and a half away, you sure youāll be okay?
āThatās perfectā, I said looking up at him.Ā āIām out of class out 4:45.ā
And it really was perfect. Iām always out of class around 4:45, heās off at 5pm but when you work in fast food, youāre never really going to get off at your scheduled time. At five is when you begin to have an attitude because your replacement is taking their time getting to your position to relieve you or they havenāt shown up at all yet-oh and people are still ordering because they have no idea thereās a shift change taking place through the intercom. Then the complaining to whatever manager on duty starts which is when they realize they have to let you go. After stocking up your replacement, stuffing burgers, cookies or even a salad into the bag you brought with you to work and getting your complimentary drink it was finally time to clock out. See by that time itād be around 5:45pm, Devon would let me know he was on the way or outside and Iād already be showered, shaved and ready to finish what we started.Ā
āPerfect.ā I love the fast food industry.Ā
snowghoul
2087
andulkaphoto
turnnoffyourmind
janainaart
blakekathryn
