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Chapter 1: That Night (Angela) Let me start off by telling you, my real name is Angela Martinez, yes, soy Afro-Latina and very proud. Both of my parents were born on the island of Puerto Rico, my dad being a deep mocha and my mom being a butter pecan tone. Now, I got my amazing facial features from my mom, full juicy lips, big brown eyes, and dimpled cheeks. Not to mention, she blessed me with a thick curvy frame.I’ve always had a slim waste, but this backside has always been something, often catching the eyes of grown-ass men when I was merely a teen-ager, still in high school.Now, this skin color, I was blessed with my father’s deep mocha skin tone, and extremely curly hair and some may even say his temperament, but the fact that my patience for foolishness was almost non-existent, could have been due to the fact that I am a Taurus, the verdict is still out.Now, my job as a talent scout sends me all over, especially when my boss, an older White woman named Kathy Schneider does not feel like doing travel during or near the holidays, she’ll send me to meet with potential and existing talent.This time, it was close to the Thanksgiving holidays and there was a singer/actress in New Orleans that she wanted me to go check out. We had seen a viral video of her and wanted to snatch her up before anyone had the chance, thus the reason for me having to be out of town working the weekend before the holidays.After the meeting with the beautiful talented young lady, I ended up back at the hotel, which was located near the foot of Canal Street. Exhausted, I stepped out of the cab, handed him my card to pay and thanked him before I exited the vehicle.I güvenilir bahis was wearing a nice pair of high waisted black slacks with a and white long-sleeved fitted shirt and a pair of red heels. I was never one to go with obvious matches, I liked wearing shoes that popped or added a hint of flavor to my outfits.My cellphone rang, “Shit,” I uttered as I entered through the revolving door. It was my kind of boyfriend, Corey Myers. I say kind of because we were constantly getting in to it over my work.He didn’t like the fact that I would drop everything and just go, when Kathy said, “Go.” But that wasn’t the case. I had a job, just like he had one and I never gave him shit about how much time and energy he put into his work, as he gave me.Reluctantly, I answered, “Yes,” with major attitude. “Hey, I was just calling to see how things went.” That’s what he said, although, I knew he didn’t care. We had a big argument before I left for the trip and he had told me basically, it was my job or him, and since I wasn’t wearing his ring and our conversations revolving marriage often centered around me being this stay-at-home, trophy wife that basically waited on him and foot, I went my Black behind to New Orleans.“Things went great.” I pressed the button to summon the elevator car. I really wasn’t in the mood to talk. I wanted to go take off my clothes, get changed and head out for some of all that good food I smelled while walking downtown, not to mention, a daiquiri or a hurricane had my name on it somewhere.“I’m about to get on the elevator, so, I’ll just call you later after I get settled.” I heard him suck his teeth, but he replied, “Alright babe.”I güvenilir bahis siteleri entered the elevator and pressed for the 14th floor and proceeded to lean against the wall, the doors re-opened and baby, my whole heart almost stopped. This dark chocolate vision of loveliness with a head full of neatly done locks entered the elevator.My entire pussy got wet. Now, here me out. One day, I was at a café in Tampa, doing some work on my lap top, tying to be productive, when I saw a table of women laughing. Normally, I mind my business and don’t listen to other people’s conversations, but when I saw them eye this man with locks as he walked by their table and one of them said, “You haven’t fucked, until you’ve fucked a man with locks.”My ears perked up and I sat and listened in detail. And ever since that moment, I had been intrigued by men with locks. Every time, I saw a good looking one, I always imagine the guy walking up to me, kissing me in the mouth, with his hand on my full breasts, pressing me up against the wall, and fucking the shit out of me.So naturally, when I looked into his eyes, I sort of blushed at the thought that went through my mind. I gave him the complimentary head nod. He spoke, “How you doing, sis?”“I’m well,” I replied and tried not to have any dirtier thoughts parade across my mind.To say this man was fine, wouldn’t do him justice. Imagine six feet three inches, deep-set sexy ass brown eyes. He had a mustache with goatee, the beard with about three inches of hang time, these chiseled cheekbones. I looked at his hands and feet and at that point, I was dying on the inside. I started throbbing all over thinking iddaa siteleri about this man, bending me over and blowing my back clean out.I cleared my throat, I noticed, he didn’t press a button for another floor. When the doors opened, he held out his hand, “After you.” Manners, I thought. He walked along side me for a while and then said, “You following me?”I laughed, “No, my room is right here.” He smiled, “Looks like we’re neighbors, at least for a short time.”“It seems we are.”I saw his eyes scan me. Even though I was in those dress pants, my hips and ass did look plump, he gave a side smile. “So, you calling it a night or you up for hanging out a bit, I wanted to go take a walk by the river.”He had read my mind, but I had also wanted much more than a walk. “Um, that sounds great, I can be ready about fifteen.”“Sounds good. I’m Jason.” He reached out his hand to shake mine. “I’m Catalina.” Now, when I was younger, I had two dreams, one to grow up and be an actress or become an international spy with the code name Catalina.“That’s pretty, ma. I’ll see you in fifteen.” *********I took off those work clothes so fast, I nearly ripped them. I put on some skinny jeans, dark denim and a fitted long-sleeved gold top. It was a nice temperature out, so I didn’t need a jacket, I just added an infinity scarf and put on my tiger print ankle boots.My hair, I took out of the bun and let the curls fluff out past my shoulders. I was ready. I grabbed my purse, reached inside and turned my cellphone on silent. I had already made up my mind, I was testing out this guy with locks theory and letting whatever happened in New Orleans, stay in New Orleans.I heard a knock on my door, I opened and he was looking good. Nice blue jeans, fitted black shirt, he had this white spacer in his left ear, and I could see the tattoos coming up out of his shirt near his neck. This just got me more excited.

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