Everybody Plays The Fool/Part 2

On his last day on the route, he came into the office like he was Russell Crowe in GLADIATOR, coming back to reclaim Rome. All the contender hoes were lined up bearing gifts and cards.

She smirked and thought, “What the fuck ever. Kembra Joyce Hamilton didn’t need no stinking gift.” She had the prize that she knew he would want and she kept hers completely shaven.

She walked past the fan appreciation gathering and walked outside to shipping/receiving area where the fool parked his truck, grabbing a blow pop off of the receptionist’s desk.

By the time the fool had walked out of the impromptu going away party, about five minutes later, Kem was slowly licking on the blow pop. She smiled that dick hardening smile of hers as she walked towards him as he loaded up his van.

She envied him, just a little, because she knew that she was about to make his day.
“What’s up?” she softly replied.
The fool turned and looked pleased. He was just about to respond when he stopped, mesmerized by Kem’s blow pop action.

Softly rolling her tongue around the candy and slurping loudly, she knew that the sucker routine was old school and she didn’t usually resort to using props, she didn’t have to and besides, they were beneath her. But, just this once, Kem thought, it was good to bust out the classics and give them a spin for old times sake. Plus, she would give this fool a little taste of what was in store for him when they hooked up.

She let him watch for about half a minute. Then she thought she would not wait for him to decide the next move. She would make it for him.
“Look, here’s my cell number. Call me sometimes and one night, when you get off of work and perhaps we can get together sometimes for Happy Hour, maybe? Cool?”

She didn’t even give him time to respond, she didn’t have time nor did she want to make idol chit chat. If she wanted that, she would get with an professor or one of the lawyers on the job.

UPS drivers, in her opinion, were the equivalent of field hands. “Only good for backbreaking work and looking good in those brown shorts. I definitely want this big ol’ buck to break some off in me”, she thought.

Kem handed the fool her number and turned to walk back inside, making sure that he got a nice, long, look at just what he was getting himself into.

She had on her black, pin-striped business suit, the skirt fitting nice and snug on her ass and thighs, POW! It was just low enough to be both irritating to the old has-beens and never-were, bitter old women in the office, enticing to the men in the building, hell the men on the planet and still be legal to wear on the job.

Her blouse was just sheer enough to where you could see the black lace bra on underneath without too much of a strain on the eyes.


She wanted to know if the fool took the bait. She stopped abruptly. He was staring all over her ass. He smiled at her meekly and she smiled back.

“The trap has been sprung”, she thought to herself. Time to reel this fool in.
“I’ll tell you what, I’ll just meet you at The Jockey Club, you know, the black club on Central and Camelback? Meet me there at six. Happy Hour, be there, aloha.” She walked back in the office. She didn’t even wait for an answer.
Six o’clock came and went and no fool.
Seven, no fool.
Eight came and went with no fool, well her fool for the night, nowhere in sight.

She had been approached about twice every five minutes or so since Happy Hour started and the lame, broke ass motherfuckas were starting to work her last good nerve and the targeted fool was a no show? His loss, she declared. Besides, Kembra Joyce Hamilton is not that desperate that she needs to wait around for some fool.

She left the bar.
She would go home and actually take a call from one of her “midnight marauders” as she dubbed the men who all wanted to make an honest sista out of her.

She was aching for some dick after thinking about her UPS Fool all day long and right about then, answering a booty call would get her some dick under glass and make one of her marauding fools the winner of the Kembra For A Night Sweepstakes.

“Yeah, sounds like a plan”, Kem thought.
She had gotten into her car and was ready to pull out of the driveway and whom does she see pulling in after keeping her waiting for two hours?

That motherfucking UPS fool.
“Ain’t this a bitch?” Kem says to herself. “Time to let this fool know who he dealing with.”
She drives up to the fool, rolls down the window of the car and gives his ass “the look”. The fool tilts his head at her, she thinks, “like the got damn RCA Victor dog” and grins and licks his lips.
Kem wasn’t falling for the okey doke.

“You think that shit gonna fly, playa? I bet you spent hours in front of the mirror perfecting that look.”

The fool didn’t respond.

Kem knew that he couldn’t say shit. He was in the wrong. Who did he think he was?

Kem then realized that the fool was out of his UPS gear and had changed into a Façonnable Lambs wool Sweater, a pair of Kenneth Cole slacks and Mezlan ´Andante´ Sandals. All in black. For the first time since she first laid eyes on the fool, Kembra was impressed.

She usually didn’t go for brothas who wore jewelry but when a black man is sporting an Odyssey Chronograph on one wrist a platinum heavy box-link bracelet with a matching necklace and a white gold black diamond studded earring, a sista will make exceptions.

And stepping out of a jet black BMW 330Ci Convertible, too? Dress to impress was being mild, the fool looked like a Nordstrom’s model on tour. No wonder his ass was late, he must have spent the last couple hours just getting ready.

“I will give the fool credit”, Kem thought, “he does know class when he sees it, in his clothes, cars and women. Fuck the Marauders, tonight. Time to break in a new stallion.”

Kem smiled and pointed towards the fool’s BMW, “Get in your ride and follow me.” She rolled up her window and realizing that she was breaking one of her fundamental rules; never let the brotha in your territory until you sure about his ass, too many crazy motherfuckas want to fall in love and shit after they’ve got a sniff of the pussy, she muttered under her breath, “Fuck it. The motherfucka looks good, dresses good, rolling good, there is only one other good that he needs to be, heh.”



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