Red Bottoms

Fat Boi

"It's nice that you're buying me all of this, William," you gesture to the plates of food on the wooden table.

"Bill," he corrects.

"Uh.. Bill," you smile politely.

The scenery is nice. You love Boathouse, you just don't go often. No particular reason.

"...But I'm not fucking you," you whisper.

"Jae, I understand that... Sometimes it's just nice to go to dinner with a beautiful woman," he shrugs hanging a hand in the air. He doesn't like to hear it, but it needs to be said. You aren't having sex with him. Especially not when he's offering a meal of this caliber. He needs to drop a few hundred and put another few hundred in your pocketbook first. He also needs to buy said pocketbook.

Your eyebrows furrow as you cut into your second crab cake. You're in a backless light blue silk dress with thin straps and snake holographic heeled sandals. It's a look that looks pricier than it is. In reality, your entire outfit together is under $100. Your hair is in one-month old passion twists.

Bill? Bill is a balding mid-fourties white guy you met in the Hispanic food section of a Walmart. Since then, you've been out with him twice. Tonight he wears khakis, a brown blazer, and a blue button down with brown loafers. It's smart, but it doesn't say too much, kind of like Bill. He's boring and ordinary, but he's willing to feed you so you'll keep him company.

After dinner, you hop in your car and check your rearview to make sure he's not following you on the way home.

"Jill," you perk over the phone to your fellow Gemini in cahoots. You know she's working the bar at Pandora's Box today.

"Did you secure the bag," she asks bluntly.

"Well, I got some crabcakes, some red wine, an appetizer, and a dessert, strawberry shortcake. He took me to Boathouse and spent about $70 on my meal."

"That's it? No pocket money?"

"He hasn't been trained," you say dryly. You've been craving a daddy of the sugar kind but he didn't offer. "I'll have to be more aggressive. I'll get it next time," you promise yourself.

When you're not working the Louboutin floors, catching up on reading or sleep, shopping for makeup and clothes, reconnecting with a few friends, or having lackluster sex with disappointing randoms, this is how you spend your time... With well off men who are bored and looking to spend.

They were easy to spot. The toughest part was making sure they put money directly in your hand.

One Month Later

As Fatboi smacks loudly on what sounds like a late dinner, you stop at a red light and drum on the wheel. Your feet are tired from standing all day in your black slingbacks and you just want to go home, take a shower, and get in the bed. Sex isn't even an option for the night. One, you're too tired. Two, you're on Day 3 of your period. Three, there's no one good to fuck.

"I was just over there," you whine, too exhausted to entertain his shenanigans.

"Just come over, I'll feed you when you get here. I got steaks and pasta." Fatboi's deep voice booms loudly through the bluetooth of your charcoal Hyundai Accent and you turn the sound down another few notches before cutting left and making a wide turn to merge onto the highway. "Then we can fuck," he adds. You knew it was coming.

"I'll take the food, but the sex? Hell naw," your voice nearly cracks. "So you can sweat over top of me like last time!? I could hardly breathe, sir." 

"But the dick was good though," he says. He's confident and it shows but he's not lying on his stroke. He'd put in a little bit of work so it was good, but he kept laying all his dead weight on you and his sweat got in your mouth both times you'd fucked him. That part wasn't good. You'd fucked big teddy bear men before and they hadn't done that. Even if you weren't on your period, you probably wouldn't have sex with him again unless he was the final option. You would choose him over the weak dick you've had in a heartbeat, however. He definitely outranked the others. You can hear his TV in the background but can't place the show. 

"I fuck with you," you assert, "I'm just looking for something different right now.. plus I'm on my period and I'm tired--"

"Uh huh, I'm a pause you because I didn't ask for that information," he grunts, "Dri' safe Jae. I know you not the best driver out here on these streets."

You gasp, mouth hung open in offense. "You rode with me one time!" 

"It was enough," he scoffs.

"Oh... well then... let me introduce you to the dial tone." Ending the call, you put your attention back on not missing your exit and call Jill.

It's late and dark and you keep cutting your bright lights on and off so that you don't blind traffic. Pulling up to your building, you park in your usual spot in front of the shady tree taking your keys between your fingers like Wolverine on the way to the door, your phone flashlight shining ahead. Thankfully, the little spotlight over the door is on and the bushes have been pruned so no one cam hide in them. It's safe enough to make you feel like you're okay coming in, or else you'd have to change your schedule. You weren't trying to do that. Putting the key in the outside door, you make it in. The door locks automatically behind you.

"Whaaat," you whine picking up your ringing cell. "Yeah I just got in, thank you.. I'll bring you the batteries tomorrow I just got a new pack but I'm sleepy.." Pushing the button for the elevator, you're happy to see it's already on the ground floor. The doors open immediately.

"Boy, you live right down the hall come and get them then! Silly." He was tripping over some AAA batteries. "Well I'm going to sleep."

You step off the elevator and look down the hall at Fatboi's door, knowing he ain't coming to get the batteries, before turning in the direction of your door. Your black glitter Kate Spade satchel almost hits the ground. Almost.

"Jae."