Authors: Fiona Knightingale
“My God.”
It was true. There was Tonya Abrams’ face—her beautiful, proud face mugging for the camera, a bit more shy and submissive than her hard exterior was in purpose. She was offering herself to a “wealthy man preferably overseas who knows how to treat a lady. Asian and African are OK!”
He was in disbelief, to say the least. To think that he felt bad about harassing her for being in debt…only to find out she was someone else’s destined mail order bride. The nerve of the man. He had right a mind to call her up…or…
Nah, nah, his deep southern conscience seemed to prick at him. No good sense in kicking a woman while she’s down.
He couldn’t resist however, doing the one forbidden thing—sending her a message on the mail order bride site and letting her know, there’s no pulling a fast one over Carl Gillispy’s eyes.
Thank you for a lovely night, Townye. I regret that things didn’t turn out better than they did. But I’m glad I got to see the softer side of you. I hope you find the Asian fellow of your dreams.
-G
To say that Tonya received the message was an understatement. She actually wrote back some twenty messages, all of them saying pretty much the same thing—“How the fuck did you…” and “Who the fuck gave you…” but Carl didn’t bother reading them past the subject line.
Just figured it was in his nature not to let her get away with any shit. The man certainly didn’t double his daddy’s fortune by just letting people sucker him.
Tonya tried to call him but there was no good reason to talk things over. He knew and she knew what went down. Not that he was resentful. Poor kid was probably too embarrassed to tell him who she really was. Yeah, why not put up a strong front and pretend to be some bad ass if it makes people respect you. That’s some southern logic for you, and worth repeating.
Finally, Tonya tempted fate and came to his office, this time asking permission to enter, but being held back by his two assistants.
“Something going on?” he asked through the intercom. “What’s all that racket about?”
“I’m sorry sir. It’s that same black woman. She keeps trying to break in here. Don’t worry, we’ll get rid of her.”
Carl sighed. “Christ, Stacy. She’s just a woman. And if she’s that determined to talk to me the polite thing to do is let her inside and talk.”
“But…but…”
“Come on now. We didn’t make our family name great by being rude to prospective customers, now did we?”
Tonya entered the room, fuming, not really at Carl but at life in general.
“Have a seat,” he said, always in awe of this woman who was surely full of surprises.
“Look…I think I figured out who told you.”
“Well, that’s neither here nor there. I think you did owe me an explanation for storming out of the restaurant when all I’ve done is try to be a good Christian.”
“I know. And I meant to apologize but dammit…” She sighed and pouted. “This is a side of me I just don’t want people to know.”
“What’s there to be ashamed of? You want to get married like anybody. No sin against feminism as far as I know.”
“No. You don’t understand. I’ve been this way. For a long time. I’ve been in debt for so many years. When my friend told me to apply at this website I just thought it would be a laugh. But now I’m thousands of dollars in debt. And I’m getting the feeling that if some cute Asian man were to ask me nicely I’d have no choice but to accept his generosity.”
“You’d move to Asia?”
“Yeah, I guess. I mean, it’s not that I don’t love the country. I grew up here. But my sisters have moved on. I’m the last one left. And I can’t make it on my own. That’s what people don’t understand. They all say, oh things are going to get better. People are going to help you up. But they never do. Everyone just says I’ll pray for you…but they don’t do shit. Meanwhile, I’m going to be homeless. I’m starving. That’s reality for you. Not that you know anything about that, Mister Gillipsi. ”
“Well, I can’t lie and pretend that I do.”
He stared in deep thought until Tonya left his gaze and looked down feeling shame.
But Gillipsi frowned. He had grown fond of the proud woman and didn’t like this side of her at all. “I was born into wealth. Doubled my fortune just doing a few dog and pony tricks. But if there’s one thing I am it’s a man who is grateful for all that he has. So maybe I could help you out a little bit.”
“You? Help me?”
“Well, sure. You could always pay me back the money I give you. So you could earn it legally. But in the meantime, there’s no good sense in sending you half way across the world just because you need a second chance.”
“Well…I…I am fond of this land. I’ve lived here all my life. What would the agreement be?”
“Well you know the usual.”
“Like what, I’d work for you?”
“Well, sure. Help out around the house.”
“Like a maid? Like a slave?” she said, her voice raising.
“Like my wife. I’d buy your profile, Tonya.”
Tonya’s jaw dropped and she shifted back in her chair, shocked and stuttering—a strange sight for the usually confident woman.
“But…but…you…would buy me?”
“Well you’re already selling yourself to an international husband. Why not one in your own backyard?”
“You’re single? I thought for sure you had a wife and a mistress…and a couple of other mistresses.”
“Well nothing serious. Business you know, doesn’t really make my schedule easy.”
“But I can’t marry you.”
“Oh?”
“Because then we’d…you know…have to have…”
“Well I’m not for sure. But I think it works this way. I say something sweet and charming. Then we hug. Then we kiss. Then we see what happens under the covers. I think it works that way.”
Tonya laughed against her will and then squinted her eyes. “But to be married there has to be some attraction. That’s all I’m saying.”
“I see. So you’re saying you’re not attracted to me? Well, horseshit.”
“Excuse me?”
“You know what? I’m tired of you. I’m tired of people like you.”
“Say what?”
“I’ve been nothing but kind to you. No matter how many stupid rich white man clichés you give to me. You complain about not getting help but you spurn people that try to help you. You try to guilt society into helping you but demand that they only help you according to your own strict rules. Well fuck that. I may have been born into wealth and yeah that sucks for you. But I was smart enough to know when to keep my mouth shut and accept the kindness and hospitality of strangers.”
Tonya eyed him in wonder and shuddered inside. Indeed, Gillispi had a temper. Not the screaming in rage kind of temper but the harsh words—the nightmarish churl of a wealthy man losing all empathy for humanity.
“NO. You think you’re so high and mighty? Well you go and be a mail order bride for some psychopath overseas. Hope he doesn’t cut you or beat you. But you know, as long as he’s an attractive guy and anything but
white
, I guess that’s good enough for you.”
“Whoah! Hold on a minute!”
“I’m going to take a piss. Now you be gone when I come back,” he said stoically. Because I sure as hell ain’t going to date no racist.”
Tonya had to laugh and shook her head slyly, watching a pouting Carl enter his private bathroom.
He was legitimately pissed off but dammit it felt good to let that off his chest. He was tired…tired of battling every 99% angry child that came along, blaming him and his family for the ills of the world. Sure, some people made mistakes. Of course, the media never talked about the charities that the Gillipsy’s supported. Nah, that wasn’t newsworthy. Maybe everyone just needed a villain.
Carl shrugged it off and walked into his private bathroom, staring blankly and not really feeling the urge. He mainly just wanted to storm out of the room in style, letting Tonya know that his kind invitation to “buy” her as a bride was revoked. Hell, he wasn’t sure why he offered to pay the check anyway. Maybe just a moment of temporary insanity.
Suddenly, the door flew open and there Tonya was, eyeing him in suspicion and slowly walking closer.
“Who said you could come in here?”
“I did. White boy.”
“Oh yeah?”
Tonya tilted her head and then invaded his space, sensing his pheromones. She knew what it felt like when a man desired her. His whole disposition changed. She never felt that before with bankers or lawyers or social workers. But this guy, definitely. He was undressing her like crazy and he had been for quite a while now. The thought finally hit Tonya, that was desirable. He just wanted her. No games, no pity or superiority complex. Just an honest to God male lust.
And that was the kind of problem she knew how to solve.
She moved in close and leaned up against him, pinning him against the wall and unzipping his fly. She could tell right away the touch of her hand escalated his breathing. She slowly pushed her fingers through the hole watching his facial expression; magnetic attraction, his white skin flushed with passion. It wasn’t the craving of a lonely man. Just the desire of a man who had never seen a natural African beauty in all her glory.
“What are you…” he felt obliged to say, playing just a little dumb. But he shuddered as Tonya snuck her fingers inside and felt around until she grabbed his covered bulge. She began stroking his penis between the material, massaging it until she felt it grow to full capacity.
She made sure that he looked at her. Kept his eyes open. She was testing him to see just how much soul he could give her. She pulled his cock out of his briefs and brought it outside his fine suit pants. She began stroking it. Not like a girl but like a woman who knew what she was doing.
Yeah, Tonya knew what men wanted and how to give it to them. And she never gave freebies…until now. She choked his dick a little bit faster and smiled, rolling her eyes back in pleasure and licking her lips, as she felt his veins stretch and grow in her hand.
“Shhhh…” she reassured, using her other arm to hold him in place, making sure he knew not to try to stop this from happening. Once a man dared to cross paths with her, there was no return to a normal life!
She moistened up his cock with some precum and jacked it harder, stroking Carl till he was out of breath.
He pushed his hand out to lean on the wall, grabbing her forearm in desperation. She didn’t relent. Upon seeing his weakness she stared him straight in the face and buttered up his sensitive prick, pushing him closer to the edge .
“Aaaahhh…” he sighed loudly. “What are you doing to me.”
She strengthened her grip and stroked his shaft hard and rapidly, until she started smacking his tight balls with the cup of her hand.
“Ohhhh God…gonna make me…”
He grabbed her in a hug and brought her face to his chest, but that only made her iron grip stroke faster.
“Mmmm!” he grunted as he squeezed and jerked until he came right in her hands, shooting a big nasty load of sperm all over the super clean floors.
He kept spurting out droplets as she continued stroking him, making sure his erection weakened. He inhaled deeply and let go of her, eventually moving away from her tough grip.
“Mister G, Mister G,” she laughed. “Looks like you made a mess. Guess your
secretary
is going to have to clean it up.”
“I’ll do it…” he said, dizzy and spaced out.
“Wow, that’s so independent of you,” Tonya said with a sarcastic smile as she left the bathroom and went on her merry way.
Carl recovered from the surprise hand job and smiled, not knowing whether he had a girlfriend, bribe or was just pleased to meet the acquaintance of a very efficient woman.
All things considered, that was the best way to save a friendship.
Damn
, he thought,
if I had one of those for every friendship I lost…I’d have just about enough to buy a cup of coffee
.
She tried to lay low, but there was not stopping a Gillispi when he “tasted oil” and the taste of Tonya’s sex had him hollering and pointing like a real prospector, that’s for sure. He sent her more harassing, adoring and just plain horny messages on that mail order bride site. He was rich as fuck, sure, but somehow he had promise in his voice. The kind of cool, sexy cowboy who could look a girl in the eye and say he’s good with one night, or you know, a mail order bride arrangement. Whatever. He wasn’t a dumb old block either. He was deceptively cunning. He was always thinking one step ahead. But damned if she could figure out what his secret agenda was in all this. Maybe sometimes a rich southern gentleman just wants some black pussy.