Full Figured 5

by Brenda Hampton

  Travis and I spent a lot of time together creating a new computer program. We even shared lunch together in our office lounge. Then the rumors about Travis and me increased to an all-time high, probably because we had something in common. We both desired success and wanted to achieve our goals. Our conversations centered on our jobs, training my staff, and basic life issues. I never dreamed that a thirty-year-old young man would ever be interested in an overweight forty-year-old woman. We were turning into friends, nothing more. I loved listening to him talk about his dreams and formulating his big deals. Listening to him was intoxicating. Our friendship was blossoming. We both wanted to conquer our dreams and we both had big aspirations. There were not supposed to be any feelings involved, but something changed that one day in September.

  It happened so fast. The staff had planned an educational workshop for some local residents. The workshop was “Handling Aggressive Children.” It was to be held at the local community center, which was approximately five miles from our office. To present the information to the parents in attendance, we would need a television with a DVD player. All the staff had left the building earlier to decorate and pick up last-minute items. I was preparing to leave when Travis arrived. I informed him that there was a problem with the computers and explained that I needed to leave for the activity. He understood. He had worked more than four months with us as a contractor and knew our program.

  On this particular day, I asked him if he could help with the television and DVD equipment. Agreeing to do so, he proceeded toward the kitchen. When he turned in the direction of the television, I admired his physique. His little butt sat up high and his long legs looked strong and sturdy. The back of his arms showed muscles. He was “well-built.” He was wearing a pair of black jeans and a yellow cotton long-sleeved polo shirt. He was also wearing a pair of black leather shoes. He looked so good in those black jeans, which were not too tight or too loose, but showed the right stuff in the right places.

  Damn, I thought, I wish I were his wife tonight.

  As I turned to go back into my office to answer the ringing phone, he came in and stood in the doorway. Watching me with that beautiful, 100-watt smile, I put up one finger to acknowledge that I would be with him in a minute. When I hung the phone up, he asked, “Ms. Williamson, would you mind if I look at the system before you leave?”

  “All right, but I need to leave within the next forty minutes,” I said.

  “No problem, I’ll be finished with what I have to do within thirty.”

  I turned to make a phone call and watched as Travis inched his body slowly to the ground and lay on his back. After sliding under the table that held the computer networking system, he began working on the system. I looked down where he lay and watched his long, well-proportioned legs and thighs. Taking a deep breath, I let my mind take me to a place that was hidden in my subconscious.

  I imagined walking slowly toward Travis. I unzipped his pants, unbuckled his leather belt, and then slid my hand carefully into his boxers. I expertly gripped his penis, releasing it from his pants. Travis moaned lightly.

  He took my hand and pressed it down harder. As I took control, his penis grew harder and bigger. It was much bigger than my husband’s. This only made me want him more. Finally, I bent my head down because I had to taste him. As I licked the head, he moaned louder. I inched his penis deeper and deeper inside my mouth. Then I slipped out of my panties because I wanted to feel his penis buried deep inside of me. I helped him ease into the condom that I had taken out of my desk drawer.

  Once he had the condom on, I straddled him. Painful at first, I grinded my hips to help him enter my moist bush. He clutched my hips as I gyrated on his penis. I screamed, “Fuck me hard!”

  He slid from under the table and gently laid me flat on my back on the plush, clean carpet. “I want you so bad. Girl, I am going to fuck you good.”

  “Then fuck me now!”

  Travis lifted my legs up and placed them gently on his shoulders. He entered me and pounded his hard tool into my wet, waiting pussy. He rode me like a jockey rides his horse. Finally, unable to hold back, he whispered, “Damn, you feel so good!” His body stiffened as he came inside of me.

  Exhilarated, Travis stood up and helped me to my feet. After kissing me for several minutes, he said, “Thank you. I really wanted you.”

  Unable to move, the phone rang, jogging me out of my daydream. “Thank you for calling the Pal Project, how may I help you?”

  “Malika, where are you?” asked Felicia.

  “I guess you know I’m still at the office, since you called my number.”

  “I guess I do. When are you leaving? We have about forty people already here.” Felicia inhaled slowly. “Is he there?”

  “Is who here?”

  “Travis, ’cause he always comes when you have something to do,” she said with a nervous giggle.

  “I will be there in ten minutes.” I hung up the phone and grabbed my purse and a pack of Johnson’s Baby Wipes. Before I walked out of my office, I grabbed a large manila envelope that was lying on the desk. Travis grabbed the television and my office keys, and we proceeded to the elevator.

  I remembered the first day I met Travis. I was in a business meeting with the chief executive officer of our parent company. We had scheduled a meeting with two large computer firms to design software for our new pilot program. The first company had completed their part of the project and was now bringing in a young company with a strong track record to finalize the project. Two CEOs were sitting at the table when Samantha Connors and I walked in. We all shook hands and sat at the long cherry wood conference table. Samantha started off the dialogue.

  “I understand that you, Travis . . . I’m sorry, is it okay that I call you by your first name?”

  “No problem,” he said, while giving her a magnificent smile.

  “Malika and I have gone over the original contract and the newly drafted replacement. We find no problem with the transfer of this contract to Enterprise Network Systems. So, once we set up a schedule of activities, we can begin the work with you, Travis.”

  “I can get the schedule back to you by tomorrow,” he replied.

  “Malika, do you have any questions?” asked Samantha.

  “Yes. Mr. Travis, by accepting this contract, you realize that you will be responsible for correcting errors which would include episodic bugs or other problems?”

  “I don’t have any problem with that. As a matter of fact, Mr. Chen and I have worked together for several years and will continue to work together to clear up any issues.”

  “Well, that’s great,” I said, handing him a copy of the signed contract.

  That was the first time I had ever laid eyes on Travis Ingram. I didn’t feel a thing for him except I was proud to be handing over my business to an African American. That was so important to me to help African American businesses grow. But the drama hadn’t started in my life yet. Yeah, I was a happy-go-lucky bitch. Walking around with my head in the air like the world owed my ass something. I was a smart-ass chick. I could analyze a brick, break that motherfucker down, and then put it back together in my mind. I could tell you what you were thinking before you thought it. But I wasn’t conceited. I knew I was smart, but it wasn’t like a bragging thing for me. I just liked me, all 180 pounds of me.

  So I wasn’t looking for anything, except for ways to please my husband. However, I was finding that hard to do. But I kept trying. I wasn’t about to give up my man. He was fine, knew how to save a dollar, and was a great provider. Plus, the brother had that staying power. He knew how long it took for me to have an orgasm and knew how to pace himself—nice and slow, and he wouldn’t stop sexing me until I got mine, before he got his. I wasn’t about to take the time to let another brother learn my rhythm.

  Who in the hell would give up a man like that? Not me. No sister or other woman would get my man. Hell, I was trying to keep him enticed. I tried hard to lose weight, but hell that shit was hard
to do. I also wanted to try some stuff in bed with him that shocked even me. After twenty years, you ought to be trying to develop some other techniques to liven up your sex life. But no! He wanted me to be his wife, but deep down I kept thinking he would want a whore to do what I wanted to do for him. But he wouldn’t let me. Stupid! A woman who wants to experiment will do just that. But for me, it was going to take time. I had morals. So I did what I couldn’t do to my husband to Travis in my mind. I fucked the shit out of him, twice a day, sometimes three times a day, depending on my mood. My husband was really benefiting from this action, because I needed his dick inside of me to make my orgasms more intense. Don’t get me wrong I really loved my husband, but I was bored. I needed much more than he was willing to give. It seemed at work I had all these things going on with putting out fires, dealing with conflicts between staff, handling budgets, and seeking new funding. Yet at home, it was almost too peaceful for my liking. I needed conversation to stimulate me, to feel alive. While my dear husband was a quiet man who felt that being a good provider was a man’s job, I felt like we were two people crossing each other in the dark.

  Chapter 2

  Breaking My Heart

  I kept trying to engage my husband into a civil conversation. I would come home from work and find him in the same chair that he had occupied for over fifteen years. It was an old chair, but we worked hard, bought nice things, and didn’t tear them up. Our home was a clean home. We took pride in having a nice dwelling to come to. My husband said it was his castle and he was the king. Well, I said that king better pay more attention to his subjects, because it was easy to become bored in this kingdom.

  On one particular day, I had had a hard day at work. I had to watch my back because Mr. Travis Ingram worked at the office most of the day.

  The women at the office tried to get his attention. Every time he walked into my office, one of them showed up. Each had a question to ask. Yeah, right! What happened to the chain of command? I mean, we had procedures in place for the staff to get assistance. But somehow, when Travis was onsite, everybody forgot the proper damn office protocol. Sometimes, I even noticed the women would linger around my door, trying to hear what we were discussing. Travis even noticed it.

  “Have you noticed the staff around your door? That kind of makes me uncomfortable, especially since I’m discussing my business and contracts with you.”

  “You’re right. I did notice the traffic and I was trying to figure out what my staff was doing. As a director, it’s difficult to make accusations, so I have to be absolutely sure that they are indeed spying on me.”

  “You have a very nice business here. I think it is wonderful that you guys help so many people in the community who need your services.”

  “You are right. In many of the African American communities, the unemployment rate is so high. Women are having a difficult time finding employment that will take care of their families plus pay for daycare. We work with families, trying to help link them to available resources throughout the communities that will help enhance their lives. What we do here is educate the family about effective job search techniques. We teach them resume writing, how to interview successfully, and how to dress for success. It is a task because there are so few jobs available that pay enough to pay bills and daycare. It is especially difficult for our clients because almost none of them have college degrees.”

  “I’m proud of you,” Travis said. “I notice how your staff interacts with you and the way you respond to their questions. You really do give them excellent advice, especially when you send them right back to their immediate supervisors. I used to have that same problem, but had to deal with it straight on.”

  “I understand, but sometimes it can be so stressful.”

  Travis leaned over and took my right hand and gently caressed it like he was trying to soothe away my stress. “You’re smart, Malika.”

  I looked into his eyes while sliding my hand out of his. Shifting my eyes away from his intensive gaze, I almost lost my concentration as I responded quickly, “Thank you.”

  That was how my day started.

  He went back to the computer area to complete his work. Travis was working hard and he received so many interruptions.

  “Mr. Ingram, would you like some water?”

  “Mr. Ingram, would you like some coffee?”

  “Mr. Ingram we are going to lunch, can we pick up something for you?”

  Would these women ever learn? The brother had never accepted any of their offers. They were really asking him, “Mr. Ingram, could I suck your dick? ’Cause I could suck a mean one.” I thought if they came straight with the man he might’ve worked with them. I could see it now:

  “Mr. Ingram, I think you are so fine. If you go to my car, I will suck your dick.”

  “For real, let’s do it then.”

  After Travis left my office, another one of my staff members walked into my office, and said, “Mrs. Williamson, can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure. Please have a seat.”

  “Is Mr. Travis married?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe you need to ask him that question. “

  “Well, I feel uncomfortable asking him that. I’m not interested in him. I just see him in our office all the time. Is he attracted to someone here? After all, no computer needs that much work.”

  I couldn’t believe that little bitch had the gall to walk in my office and insinuate that Travis had an ulterior motive for being in our building. I thought about reaching over and bitch-slapping that whore, instead I said, “Maybe you should get back to work. Try not to be critical of others when you don’t have any information to back it up. You are doing a fine job in your specialty, which doesn’t call for much education or expertise, but computer folks have to have degrees and years of experience to maintain an entire network and troubleshoot problems. I would advise you that in the future you keep your opinions to yourself.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, Mrs. Williamson. I didn’t mean anything by it. The brother is fine. I think he is attracted to you. That’s all.”

  “Well, as I said, keep your opinions to yourself. As a matter of fact, Mr. Ingram is a professional and I’m sure he didn’t build his company by going to agencies looking for a woman.”

  “Well, I think you should be flattered that he likes you.”

  Standing up to indicate the conversation was over, I walked to the door. “What part of ‘keep your opinions to yourself’ do you not understand?” I was pissed off. This, skinny legs, Humpty-Dumpty-built heifer had the nerve to stand in my office and try to have a personal conversation with me. I knew she was probing. I had to get her straight.

  “I’d rather you not discuss Mr. Travis with me, and please refrain from interrupting him while he is working for this company. Further, it would really be in your best interest to go do what you were hired to do.”

  Sarah pushed her seat back, causing the legs to rake across my hardwood floor, and pivoted around, facing the door. She actually huffed and puffed her way out of my office. I knew one thing and it was this: the women were bold in St. Louis. When I took this job two years ago, after working in East St. Louis for fifteen years, I was in for a shock. People always said East St. Louis people were crazy. All they did was fight and accept handouts. I hadn’t met any women from St. Louis who could hold a candle to the women in East Saint, as we called it. When I worked over there I found the people friendly, down to earth, and hard working. They were not sitting around, talking about and putting St. Louis women down. I had found them to be intelligent, very beautiful, spirited people. I never could figure out where the negative reputation about East St. Louis came from. Rumors spread for a variety of reasons, but that one was not true. In my fifteen years of working over there, with more than 200 employees to supervise, not one ever graced my door to discuss a man who was providing us a service. But here we were in the middle of St. Louis and already these bold-ass bitches were probing all up in my business.

  Wh
ile sitting in my office during the late evening, I overheard a peculiar conversation.

  “She knows they are fucking or that motherfucker don’t know shit about no computers. They always need work and I know more than him. I think that brother just coming up in here because he wants that wanna-be so-called professional bitch.”

  “Damn,” I heard Felicia say. “Sarah, you act like you want to fuck him.”

  “If she get her fat ass out of his face, maybe I can.”

  “Sarah, you better be careful; I heard she was called Hitler on one of her former jobs and I know she will fire you for making those kinds of statements.”

  “She ain’t gon’ do shit to me because I will tell everybody what her ass is doing up here.”

  “Girl,” Felicia interjected, “you better be careful ’cause now you are making serious accusations and you can get sued. If I were you, I would be real careful about running my mouth if you want to keep your job.”

  “Fuck her.”

  “Sarah, girl, I didn’t know you hated Malika like that. She is so cool.”

  “That bitch thinks she is all that. She walks around here in those suits like she running stuff, but that bitch is not running me.”

  “Well, if you feel like that maybe you should leave.”

  “I ain’t going anywhere.”

  “Well, maybe you should ask Mr. Ingram for some of that dick, since you seem to want it so bad.”

  “Girl, I ain’t into his ass. I just don’t care for her.”

  “Well, I’m through with this conversation. Watch your steps or you will be unemployed.”

  I walked away from my desk, laughing. I couldn’t believe that shit. That little-legged bitch had the audacity to diss me to my employees. Okay, I let her have that one, but you better believe Sarah Lee Gee was on notice. She had better make sure her work is top quality. I had her on my list to fuck her up before I sent her ass packing. Wrong move! Dissing me and calling me a so-called wanna-be professional. Well, I was going to put my so-called all the way up her ass. This homie didn’t play that shit.