Page 9 of He Snatched My Soul

He told us safe travels tomorrow before leaving my office, pulling the door closed behind him. Modesty moved around my office like it was hers. She sat at the desk I had in the corner by the window and began pulling papers from her Louis Vuitton briefcase. Her skirt rose as she sat, showing off more of her thick, juicy thighs. I stood up, adjusting my dick in my slacks before I went to sit across from her. I noticed she had slipped on some reading glasses, making her look like a sexy schoolteacher, especially with the slick bun she wore on top of her head. Her face was free of makeup, besides that shiny shit she had on her lips, giving them a fuller look. As I continued to stare at her, a frown emerged on her face as she looked over at me.

“Didn’t your mother teach you it’s impolite to stare, sir?” She sassed.

“Not when I'm admiring something so beautiful,” I flirted.

She rolled her eyes. “Do you always flirt with every woman you come in contact with, Jamian?” Damn, I loved how my name sounded coming from her lips.

“Only the beautiful ones, baby.” I winked. “Since you are about to work me like a slave, how about I order some lunch.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but a nigga hungry, and I’m not going to be rude and eat in front of you and not feed you.”I want to feed you this dick.“Now, what do you have a taste for?” I pulled up the DoorDash app on my phone.

“Uh… I saw a Mexican restaurant a few blocks away. I can go for some fish tacos.”

“I'm cool with that.”

After putting our food order in, we got to work. Looking over the concept for the resort, I was impressed with my father’s ideas for the spot. Yeah, he owned several adult hotels, but this one, a nigga wouldn’t mind purchasing a yearly membership.

“This is dope. But what do you know about this stuff? I ain’t know you were into BDSM?” I was intrigued like a muthafucka. I would love to tie Ms. Modesty’s ass up and torture the pussy. Respectfully.

“You would be surprised by what I know. Besides, I did my research. Like the rest of the Armstrong resorts, Debauchery Resort & Casino will be all exclusive but with a little twist. It’s an adults-only oasis that would be the ultimate destination for couples and singles alike to explore love, lust, and everything in between. You can relish in romance with your partner or venture into some BDSM parties under one roof, where each moment is discreet yet daring dalliance.”

“I can dig it. This is dope. I might participate in some of the activities.”

“I bet you will. This is up your alley.”

“Actually, it’s not. I never tried BDSM with a bitch. Shit like that is too intimate. I don’t care enough for these hoes to be doing all that. I just get my dick wet, give ’em the best orgasm of their life, and send them on their way, satisfied,” I spoke truthfully.

“Sex is about intimacy. At least it should be. Whether y’all are partners or just having fun, I think all women should get more than just satisfaction out of the deal. We are emotionally invested when we are giving our bodies to anyone.”

“Nah, I ain’t doing all that staring in your eyes shit while we are fucking. I ain’t telling you how good the pussy is; none of that. I don’t even kiss these hoes. They be doing some thangs with their mouth, and a nigga ain’t with that.”

Modesty shook her head disappointingly at me. I ain’t care how she felt about my logic because it was the truth. Only two females could say I actually put my mouth on them: my ex and the beautiful woman sitting across from me. These bitches nowadays want you to pay their bills and get their hair and nails done just because you buy them a two-piece chicken meal from Popeyes. Naw, these bitches get this dick, and that’s it.

We had been going over what type of software was needed for the casino when our food had arrived. I had to admit, Modesty knew her shit, and she was about her business. I liked a woman who chased her own bag and didn’t look to a nigga for a come-up.

“So, shorty, you from Melville? Do you have any siblings?”

Picking up her napkin, Modesty wiped her mouth before she spoke, “Yes, I was born and raised here. Both of my parents are from Memphis, Tennessee, though. I had a brother, but he died when he was two months old. He um… he died from SIDS.” She cleared her throat as she shifted in her seat.

“I’m sorry about that, baby girl.”

“Thanks.”

“How’s your food?” I could tell this conversation was uncomfortable, so I changed the subject when I noticed her misty eyes.

“It’s good… better than I expected. So Jamian… what got you into computers?”

“Fun fact, I didn’t go to college for this shit. I actually majored in business management. I didn’t get into the tech shit until after I graduated college. My boy was into the shit, and I kind of took an interest in it. Before I knew it, I had all this knowledge and skills tech related. I was able to create websites, software, and hardware systems for my father’s first company. Now, here I am. I love what I do, though. It brings me a lot of bread, so I can’t complain.”

“What’s there to complain about when you are a millionaire?”

“The saying ‘More money, more problems’ rings true, shorty. Don’t get me wrong, being able to afford shit without worrying if my credit card is going to decline is cool, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have other shit to deal with, you feel me?”

People always assumed because I grew up wealthy, I had this smooth life. Don’t get me wrong, I grew up with great parents who loved me, but nothing was given to me. I had to earn everything that I wanted. My parents were firm believers in showing their kids the true value of a dollar. That’s why, as a grown man with my own money, I buy what I want when I want it.

“I guess you're right.”

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