Stop Looking at Me


* * * Excerpts * * * Stop Looking at Me! by J.Gail Excerpt – Part 1 “God I thought you were my homie! But you are cold sometimes, so cold,” Tracy joked silently with her maker, but she wasn’t smiling about it. She took one look at Reggie’s cold, hard-lined face as she walked out of the revolving doors at her job and wanted to throw up. She was already having the worst day of her life, plus she was PMSing, and now this. “Hey baby!” Reggie said with a fake smile. “What’s going on.” “What the hell do you want,” Tracy said with an attitude as she hustled by him towards the train station. She was going to leave it at that, but she began blurting instead. “Talking about ‘what's going on’ you a damn fool. Ain't shit going on when it’s about you!” “Where’d you get that attitude from? Man,” Reggie said as he followed close behind her. Reggie worked two buildings over in the mailroom of an advertising agency. He swore up and down he was executive status just because he worked in midtown Manhattan and felt the need to wear fresh new Polo dress shirts and Dockers pants to work with the mail. He had dark skin and a bad complexion with pimples all over his forehead. She didn’t know why he didn’t just go out and get some Proactiv or something. It was always a surprise to see how stark white his teeth were, even though they had several gaps and imperfections in the front. Tracy just ignored him and kept moving. Reggie had disappointed her on so many levels during their two year relationship. He not only cheated on her, but also ran up $2,000 on her credit for traffic tickets, court fees, and new clothes which of course he never paid back. “I was wondering if I could take you out to dinner, the happy hour at Applebee’s?” Reggie asked. “Ha. In your dreams,” Tracy said with a wicked laugh. “Come on Trace, I wanna talk to you about some things. I’m really sorry for how things went down, you know?” Tracy stopped and turned to look Reggie in his face. She spoke to him as if she were a man because she had absolutely no respect for him. “No, I don't know. If you were really sorry you would have paid me my money back a long time ago.” “See that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Reggie said. He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and withdrew five $100 bills. “Here’s $500. That’s a start, right?” Tracy was pretty stunned at this gesture. Reggie had never pulled more than a few dollars out of his pocket to give her when they were together. Now he was paying her back some of her money in hundreds? She hurried up and took the $500 from his hands before he had a chance to say “sike.” “I hit the lotto, five grand baby! I wanted to give you something, I would give you more but I need the rest to put down on my new house. I’m trying to buy this duplex in Queens.” He lied about the amount—he had actually won $15,000. “Hey, that’s the shit Reggie, thanks,” Tracy said, melting as she folded the money and put it in her purse. “Come on, let me treat you to a meal and some drinks, all on me,” Reggie asked again. Tracy could never turn down a free drink. After her fifth $4 margarita, Tracy was feeling nice, and Reggie was looking like gold. She hadn’t had sex in over three months now, and anything with an Adam’s apple was looking good to her right now. As Tracy studied Reggie’s strong muscular physique under the collared shirt he wore, sex with Reggie was looking like the only way to go that night. The margaritas had almost completely removed those memories of the way Reggie used to emotionally abuse her, calling her fat and comparing her complexion to the color of piss after a forty of St. Ides. Today, she thought of Reggie as strictly after hours jump-off status—he would never be something to introduce to her friends or family ever again, not that Tracy would ever introduce a man to her family and friends anyway. “You look like you about to take off your clothes right at the bar Strippy,” Reggie said as he eyed the way Tracy was slowly rubbing her nipples up against the bar. When she realized what she had been doing involuntarily, she stopped abruptly. “I’m just feeling good,” she said to cover herself. “The bartender made those margaritas just right.” “Well, I wish I was that bar right now,” Reggie commented as he took another sip from his Courvoisier on ice. Tracy laughed to herself about how he was really trying to ball. He could barely pronounce the drink when he ordered it. “Shut up.” But secretly Tracy had been wishing the same thing. “Yo, why is that girl looking at you like that? You need to go handle that,” Reggie said with a serious look on his face as he looked over at a white girl sitting on the other end of the bar. “Stop fucking with me Reggie, why do you do that?” Tracy complained. She was not amused. “You know I ain’t one to play.” “Do what?” Reggie smiled mischevously. He found amusement in playing on Tracy’s weaknesses. He decided to back off at the moment though, he didn’t want to screw up his chances of getting some later. Out of all the women he probably could have snagged up after winning that money, Tracy was the one that kept returning to his visions. She had been the best woman he’d ever bedded, with perfectly shaped double D breasts, legs that could open all the way into a split, and tight walls that kept his manhood throbbing for more. And she was gangsta in bed; calling him all kinds of names that would make a soldier cringe and choking him out with one hand at times—she was strong—he loved that kinky stuff. Tracy couldn’t help but look over at the white girl herself after a few minutes. The girl was over there minding her own business. Reggie chuckled under his breath and then started daydreaming about what would happen later. Reggie pushed into Tracy’s soft backside and jerked at the doorknob as Tracy struggled with the keys. She finally fit it in the lock correctly and the door flew open as Tracy turned to throw her arms up to meet Reggie’s embrace. Reggie kicked the door closed and immediately started pulling up Tracy’s button down blouse along with her pink laced bra until he had both of his hands on her thick, fleshy breasts. He knew exactly what she liked. He watched his own work as he squeezed the area around her areolas, and flicked at her nipples with his pointer fingers. Tracy had a fetish with her breasts—they were extremely sensitive and she loved having them handled. After teasing her some more, he lowered his head to lick and suck on each dark brown nipple. Tracy moaned in delight as he lifted her up off of the ground with his strong muscular arms and carried her over to the far side of the room where her bed was. Reggie turned her around and unbuttoned her loose fitting pants, letting them fall down to the floor. Tracy was brimming with anticipation, and lifted her hips up higher to entice Reggie. “Put it in already motherfucker! Damn you slow,” she almost begged him to hurry up and put a condom on so that he could enter her from behind. They had intense, powerful, high-speed sex three times in two hours. Reggie wasn’t known for lasting long, but he was able to recover after sex quickly and go again. Tracy marveled the whole time at how cut up Reggie’s body was; it was his best asset. His face left much to be desired, but his body was worth the trouble. Hard bodies were another of Tracy’s weaknesses. She would run her hands up and down his dark muscles making him feel safe and secure at first but then grab him by the neck and throw him down on the bed so that she could ride him out. She kept him excited the entire time because he never knew what was going to happen next. “Damn Tracy,” Reggie said as he rolled over onto his stomach and fell asleep. When Tracy woke at six in the morning, she wasn’t surprised to see that Reggie wasn’t there. She had a splitting headache and wanted to go back to sleep so badly, but she needed to be out the door by seven. She reached over and searched her nightstand drawer for her Excedrins. She didn’t feel the need to check for her pocketbook, because she had gone to her car the previous night while Reggie waited in her building’s foyer and left the small purse under the passenger seat. Drunk or not, she didn’t trust leaving Reggie around her credit cards and cash, especially after he had stolen one of her credit cards one time and charged a $250 Avirex sweater on it. Tracy left her apartment a little later than usual at 7:15. She hurried down the stairs, skipping two steps at a time. Reggie may have been a loser, but he sure had her light on her feet that morning. She made her way down to her car to retrieve her purse and was shocked at how nice a day it was outside. The birds were chirping and the sun was shining and glimmering across the hood of her car. As she opened the passenger door and reached in she glanced out her car window across the street and was surprised to see someone examining her closely. He was with one other guy, but the other dude might as well have faded into the background of the lowered metal gate they were leaning against compared to his drop dead gorgeous companion. Tracy couldn’t help but stare as she watched the tall light skinned brother’s pensive glare in her direction slowly transform into a sly, sexy smirk. He had bedroom eyes that were a strange dark tint of green and hazel, and a smooth complexion that shone in the sunlight. Tracy wasn’t usually attracted to light skinned brothers, especially thug types, but this one was on point. Damn! His mustache and goatee were low cut and well trimmed, and his clothes were clean and stylish. Tracy smiled crooked as she grabbed her purse from beneath the seat. She stood up too quickly and hit the back of her head on the roof of the car. “Oww,” she complained as she rubbed the back of her head and came back out. She was too embarrassed to look back across the street so she just slammed the door and turned in the direction of the subway. She sensed someone coming towards her and jumped back. “Why you jumpin’, you aiight?” Mr. Eyes said as he approached her with his hands in his pockets. He opted not to wear a jacket that day and instead had on a white tee embroidered with black letters, dark blue jeans, a white baseball cap, and fresh new Air Force ones. He was at least 6’2. He was solid, right in the middle of a football and basketball player in stature, and had an intimidating presence. His lips were thick and juicy red like he had just drunk some bangin’ ass Kool Aid. She scanned the area right beneath the sleeve on his T-shirt and her knees almost became weak seeing the bluish veins popping out of his cut up arms. He had a tat on his forearm that said ‘Bad Ass’. Even as he held his arms resting at his sides his biceps looked as strong and cut as most guys did when they were flexing. “Well, you scared me,” Tracy said, trying to stay calm as she backed up a few steps. Never before in her life had she been more nervous around a guy than at that moment.

* * * Excerpts * * *

Stop Looking at Me!

by J.Gail

Excerpt – Part 1

“God I thought you were my homie! But you are cold sometimes, so cold,” Tracy joked silently with her maker, but she wasn’t smiling about it. She took one look at Reggie’s cold, hard-lined face as she walked out of the revolving doors at her job and wanted to throw up. She was already having the worst day of her life, plus she was PMSing, and now this.

“Hey baby!” Reggie said with a fake smile. “What’s going on.”

“What the hell do you want,” Tracy said with an attitude as she hustled by him towards the train station. She was going to leave it at that, but she began blurting instead. “Talking about ‘what's going on’ you a damn fool. Ain't shit going on when it’s about you!”

“Where’d you get that attitude from? Man,” Reggie said as he followed close behind her. Reggie worked two buildings over in the mailroom of an advertising agency. He swore up and down he was executive status just because he worked in midtown Manhattan and felt the need to wear fresh new Polo dress shirts and Dockers pants to work with the mail. He had dark skin and a bad complexion with pimples all over his forehead. She didn’t know why he didn’t just go out and get some Proactiv or something. It was always a surprise to see how stark white his teeth were, even though they had several gaps and imperfections in the front.

Tracy just ignored him and kept moving. Reggie had disappointed her on so many levels during their two year relationship. He not only cheated on her, but also ran up $2,000 on her credit for traffic tickets, court fees, and new clothes which of course he never paid back.

“I was wondering if I could take you out to dinner, the happy hour at Applebee’s?” Reggie asked.

“Ha. In your dreams,” Tracy said with a wicked laugh.

“Come on Trace, I wanna talk to you about some things. I’m really sorry for how things went down, you know?”

Tracy stopped and turned to look Reggie in his face. She spoke to him as if she were a man because she had absolutely no respect for him. “No, I don't know. If you were really sorry you would have paid me my money back a long time ago.”

“See that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Reggie said. He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and withdrew five $100 bills. “Here’s $500. That’s a start, right?”

Tracy was pretty stunned at this gesture. Reggie had never pulled more than a few dollars out of his pocket to give her when they were together. Now he was paying her back some of her money in hundreds? She hurried up and took the $500 from his hands before he had a chance to say “sike.”

“I hit the lotto, five grand baby! I wanted to give you something, I would give you more but I need the rest to put down on my new house. I’m trying to buy this duplex in Queens.” He lied about the amount—he had actually won $15,000.

“Hey, that’s the shit Reggie, thanks,” Tracy said, melting as she folded the money and put it in her purse.

“Come on, let me treat you to a meal and some drinks, all on me,” Reggie asked again. Tracy could never turn down a free drink.

After her fifth $4 margarita, Tracy was feeling nice, and Reggie was looking like gold. She hadn’t had sex in over three months now, and anything with an Adam’s apple was looking good to her right now.

As Tracy studied Reggie’s strong muscular physique under the collared shirt he wore, sex with Reggie was looking like the only way to go that night. The margaritas had almost completely removed those memories of the way Reggie used to emotionally abuse her, calling her fat and comparing her complexion to the color of piss after a forty of St. Ides. Today, she thought of Reggie as strictly after hours jump-off status—he would never be something to introduce to her friends or family ever again, not that Tracy would ever introduce a man to her family and friends anyway.

“You look like you about to take off your clothes right at the bar Strippy,” Reggie said as he eyed the way Tracy was slowly rubbing her nipples up against the bar. When she realized what she had been doing involuntarily, she stopped abruptly.

“I’m just feeling good,” she said to cover herself. “The bartender made those margaritas just right.”

“Well, I wish I was that bar right now,” Reggie commented as he took another sip from his Courvoisier on ice. Tracy laughed to herself about how he was really trying to ball. He could barely pronounce the drink when he ordered it.

“Shut up.” But secretly Tracy had been wishing the same thing.

“Yo, why is that girl looking at you like that? You need to go handle that,” Reggie said with a serious look on his face as he looked over at a white girl sitting on the other end of the bar.

“Stop fucking with me Reggie, why do you do that?” Tracy complained. She was not amused. “You know I ain’t one to play.”

“Do what?” Reggie smiled mischevously. He found amusement in playing on Tracy’s weaknesses. He decided to back off at the moment though, he didn’t want to screw up his chances of getting some later. Out of all the women he probably could have snagged up after winning that money, Tracy was the one that kept returning to his visions. She had been the best woman he’d ever bedded, with perfectly shaped double D breasts, legs that could open all the way into a split, and tight walls that kept his manhood throbbing for more. And she was gangsta in bed; calling him all kinds of names that would make a soldier cringe and choking him out with one hand at times—she was strong—he loved that kinky stuff.

Tracy couldn’t help but look over at the white girl herself after a few minutes. The girl was over there minding her own business. Reggie chuckled under his breath and then started daydreaming about what would happen later.

Reggie pushed into Tracy’s soft backside and jerked at the doorknob as Tracy struggled with the keys. She finally fit it in the lock correctly and the door flew open as Tracy turned to throw her arms up to meet Reggie’s embrace. Reggie kicked the door closed and immediately started pulling up Tracy’s button down blouse along with her pink laced bra until he had both of his hands on her thick, fleshy breasts. He knew exactly what she liked. He watched his own work as he squeezed the area around her areolas, and flicked at her nipples with his pointer fingers. Tracy had a fetish with her breasts—they were extremely sensitive and she loved having them handled. After teasing her some more, he lowered his head to lick and suck on each dark brown nipple. Tracy moaned in delight as he lifted her up off of the ground with his strong muscular arms and carried her over to the far side of the room where her bed was.

Reggie turned her around and unbuttoned her loose fitting pants, letting them fall down to the floor. Tracy was brimming with anticipation, and lifted her hips up higher to entice Reggie.

“Put it in already motherfucker! Damn you slow,” she almost begged him to hurry up and put a condom on so that he could enter her from behind.

They had intense, powerful, high-speed sex three times in two hours. Reggie wasn’t known for lasting long, but he was able to recover after sex quickly and go again. Tracy marveled the whole time at how cut up Reggie’s body was; it was his best asset. His face left much to be desired, but his body was worth the trouble. Hard bodies were another of Tracy’s weaknesses. She would run her hands up and down his dark muscles making him feel safe and secure at first but then grab him by the neck and throw him down on the bed so that she could ride him out. She kept him excited the entire time because he never knew what was going to happen next.

“Damn Tracy,” Reggie said as he rolled over onto his stomach and fell asleep.

When Tracy woke at six in the morning, she wasn’t surprised to see that Reggie wasn’t there. She had a splitting headache and wanted to go back to sleep so badly, but she needed to be out the door by seven. She reached over and searched her nightstand drawer for her Excedrins.

She didn’t feel the need to check for her pocketbook, because she had gone to her car the previous night while Reggie waited in her building’s foyer and left the small purse under the passenger seat. Drunk or not, she didn’t trust leaving Reggie around her credit cards and cash, especially after he had stolen one of her credit cards one time and charged a $250 Avirex sweater on it.

Tracy left her apartment a little later than usual at 7:15. She hurried down the stairs, skipping two steps at a time. Reggie may have been a loser, but he sure had her light on her feet that morning.

She made her way down to her car to retrieve her purse and was shocked at how nice a day it was outside. The birds were chirping and the sun was shining and glimmering across the hood of her car. As she opened the passenger door and reached in she glanced out her car window across the street and was surprised to see someone examining her closely.

He was with one other guy, but the other dude might as well have faded into the background of the lowered metal gate they were leaning against compared to his drop dead gorgeous companion. Tracy couldn’t help but stare as she watched the tall light skinned brother’s pensive glare in her direction slowly transform into a sly, sexy smirk. He had bedroom eyes that were a strange dark tint of green and hazel, and a smooth complexion that shone in the sunlight. Tracy wasn’t usually attracted to light skinned brothers, especially thug types, but this one was on point. Damn! His mustache and goatee were low cut and well trimmed, and his clothes were clean and stylish. Tracy smiled crooked as she grabbed her purse from beneath the seat. She stood up too quickly and hit the back of her head on the roof of the car.

“Oww,” she complained as she rubbed the back of her head and came back out. She was too embarrassed to look back across the street so she just slammed the door and turned in the direction of the subway. She sensed someone coming towards her and jumped back.

“Why you jumpin’, you aiight?” Mr. Eyes said as he approached her with his hands in his pockets. He opted not to wear a jacket that day and instead had on a white tee embroidered with black letters, dark blue jeans, a white baseball cap, and fresh new Air Force ones. He was at least 6’2. He was solid, right in the middle of a football and basketball player in stature, and had an intimidating presence. His lips were thick and juicy red like he had just drunk some bangin’ ass Kool Aid. She scanned the area right beneath the sleeve on his T-shirt and her knees almost became weak seeing the bluish veins popping out of his cut up arms. He had a tat on his forearm that said ‘Bad Ass’. Even as he held his arms resting at his sides his biceps looked as strong and cut as most guys did when they were flexing.

“Well, you scared me,” Tracy said, trying to stay calm as she backed up a few steps. Never before in her life had she been more nervous around a guy than at that moment.