“Hello,” the black man said, smiling. “I’m Morris.” I was not in a mood for pleasantries, but I forced an answer.

“Hello. Apparently you already know who I am.” I stared straight ahead, waiting, the silence roaring in my ears. Morris let the time hammer me.

“Did you look at the pictures?” Morris asked.

“Yes.”

“You see who was in them?”

“Yes.”

“You know the circumstance of course.”

“Of course,” I said. I was taking deep fearful breaths. “Are you trying to blackmail me?” I asked. “I don’t have much money.”

Morris gave a loud laugh, his amusement puzzling. His laugh did nothing to relieve the tenseness of the moment.

“No, nothing like that. You may not believe this but actually I am preventing your being blackmailed.”

“Sure you are, that’s why you are carrying these photos?” I motioned to the brown envelope on my lap.

“I am.”

“So I suppose you are just giving me these compromising photos?” I asked, hoping against hope that by some miracle that was what happening.

“Not exactly,” Morris said. “Your lover, Paul, has a major financial problem, not the least of which is a large gambling debt to my employer.”

“I’m not surprised. The bastard,” I spat.

“Yeah, that is an accurate description,” Morris agreed. “When I went to collect for his gambling debt you know what he offered? He offered you.”

“Whaaatt?” I gasped.

“That’s right. He drug out this envelope and said he was planning on dropping it on you later this week. “Wait. Let me show you something. Look in this envelope. If you want she is yours,’ he told me. He thought that should be worth 25 grand off his debt.”

“I’m not for sale or a commodity to be traded,” I said.

“Didn’t say you were, just telling you what the man had to say. He had it figured out more or less. Straight up blackmail. He is pissed at you. Said no bitch was going to talk to him like that. He must have figured it was worth something and it would give him some power over you to prevent these pictures and video from hitting the internet and being sent to all these people.” Morris handed me a list, addresses and emails. A quick scan and I saw the list included my grandparents, my parents, the in-laws, and the home address of my employer. When I saw my college roommate I realized where the list had come from—Paul must have downloaded my Christmas card list from my laptop. My heart was slamming against the inside of my chest.

“Oh my God,” I gasped.

“Don’t get me wrong girlie,” Morris said, “I didn’t like it at all. But during, let’s say, our discussion about his indebtedness, I did get his personal guarantee that he was giving up the original SD card of the video. To tell the truth I also got his video camera and laptop just to be sure. My employer is not tolerant about overdue gambling debts or the interest that accrues.”

“I’m not sure why we are having this conversation then,” I said. “If you are bringing me these photos I want to thank you.”

“It’s not exactly like that,” Morris said. I felt my heart sinking as he said it.

“So I am being blackmailed?” I said.

“No, I wouldn’t word it like that,” Morris said. “I rescued this video for you, made sure there are no copies, and frankly beat him half to death, even rougher than I usually would for being such a dick.”

“So what are you talking about then?” I asked.

“Well he wanted $25 grand. I allowed 15 off his debt. I paid my employer the difference with my own cash. All I’m really asking for is I would like to get my money back. You pay me 15 grand and all this is over for you. Think of it as if you hired me as a private investigator to get your compromising video destroyed. I don’t think that is too high a price to pay considering the downside for you if Paul had come at you. He had other things in mind other than a cash payment, from what he said. I promise you this is a much better deal.”

“How would I know that the video would be destroyed?”

“If Paul had the video stored on the cloud somewhere and tried to put it up—I’d kill him. And he knows it. You do not have to worry about Paul ever again.”

“Really?”

“Ask around on the street. My word is the best in this damn town. If I say it, I mean it. I’m not trying to fuck with you; I think I have provided a service and rescued your ass out of a sticky situation. Paul was the kind of man that would have bled you dry for years and still probably end up sending copies to everyone on that list. All I am asking is my 15 grand back,” Morris said.

“I don’t have 15 grand,” I said. “My husband and I barely get by, and the way the housing market is today…”

“I understand that, but I also know that when you sell a million dollar house and cash your commission check and we’re good. All you have to do is take a full commission, tell your husband you had to split it with another realtor, keep half and pay me,” Morris said.

“Sounds like you have it all figured out,” I said. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“Seems simple enough to me,” Morris said.

“I don’t have any million dollar listings, or customers looking for million dollar homes,” I said. “I mean I am certainly going to try, but…” I stammered, the impossibility of the situation overwhelming me. “I’m not sure I can do it.”

“Missy let me restate this in a couple of sentences. I pulled your ass out of Paul’s clutches for 15 grand. You need to pay me 15 grand and everyone goes home happy. You don’t have 15 grand then you better be figuring how you are going to come up with 15 grand. If you can’t sell a house, beg, borrow, or steal it, then I might have an idea or two.”

I felt a shudder of fear. I was afraid of this man, and I knew I didn’t have to ask anyone if he would do what he said he would do. And coming up with $15,000 now, well it might as well be a half-a-million, for me it was an impossibility. I couldn’t tell Todd—it would break his heart, and I would do anything to keep that from happening. The shame of it if my family and friends learned—my reputation would be shot. In everyone’s eyes I was the one person in the world who would never cheat as I had with Paul.

I would lose my job when the company realized Paul had been a client. I would have to leave and go to a place where no one knew me, alone; I would have to change my name. I didn’t want to be alone. I couldn’t let that happen. And what about my kids? I needed to think this through, I needed to stall.

“Are you willing to wait until I could possibly sell a big house or two? I could pay you in installments or something,” I offered.

“I paid my boss $15,000 in hard earned cash. I don’t think installments are going to get it.”

“You said you had other ideas,” I said. “What are you talking about?”

“You are a good looking thing. I’m talking about fucking.”

“What!” My voice was loud. I was shocked, and desperate.

Morris’ tone changed, it was harder, firm. “It ain’t like you’ve not been fucking around behind your husband’s back, a couple of times a week. All you gotta do is keep doing that—but not with Paul. We’ll work a payment plan around that.”

I fought the tears—and his warped reasoning. Paul, I thought he loved…aw shit, I didn’t know what I thought right now. “I, I, I don’t know I mean I’m…”

“Shut the fuck up girl.” Morris snapped. I recoiled as if he’d slapped me, jerking my body back, and stopped in mid word as tears rolled down my cheeks.” My distress had no effect on him. Morris did not change his tone or expression. “I don’t want to be a hard ass here, I can wait for a while—I won’t lower the $15,000 but I will give you a little time to make a score. In the meantime there is the matter of interest.”

“Interest?” I said, snubbing.

“Yeah. The vig. Some people in my line of work double the unpaid balance every 60 days. But I am going to be easy on you. I know money is probably tight for you.” I nodded. “So I will take the interest out in trade for the first couple of months, give you a chance to get ahead.”

“Trade?”

“Yeah. Pussy.”

“I can’t, I mean that…” Morris cut me off, his voice more measured and gruff.

“Here’s how it is. It is simple and will work out well for you. You keep making the same excuses you made to your husband while you were fucking Paul. I’ll give you a break and try to work around when your kids are in school; your hubby’s traveling for anything overnight, and ensure discretion. All you gotta do is give up that pussy just like you were doing to Paul.”

“Twice a week?” I wailed, thinking of all the afternoons with Paul. “How can you do this to me?”

“Easy.” Morris said. “I watched the video, saw what a good eager fuck you are, you are easy on the eyes, and I want me some of it. Not like I’m bustin’ your cheating cherry or anything. You been spreading it around, I want a taste of what someone other than your husband’s been getting.” He watched my face for a reaction and all he saw was more tears. He answered my question.

Morris smiled, but it wasn’t one of pleasure but more one of victory. “Not twice a week--more like whenever I want. I will tap that pussy instead of adding interest to the amount to give you time to sell a big house or come up with the money some other way. If you have not come up with it in a couple of months we will have to renegotiate then.”

“Oh God. Oh God,” I gasped, the entrapment of it draining my strength. I collapsed against the Escalade door. “This can’t be happening to me.”

I made no further acknowledgement. “Oh fuck, enough of that,” Morris said. “You ain’t a sweet little virgin, you are a cheating wife who got caught, and it’s not like your husband caught you and walked out on your cheating ass. All you gotta do is spread those legs and open up that pussy to me when I want some of it. You ever had any black dick before?”

I shook my head no. “You’ve thought about it though, I have seen your video girl. I watched you with that big black dildo shoved up inside you and you screaming how you wanted some real big black cock. Here it is.” Morris reached down and lewdly cupped his hand over his crotch and rubbed. “Be careful what you wish for,” he laughed. “Hell, it ain’t all bad. You’ll be glad this has happened once you’ve took this big black cock in that tight little pussy a time or two.” He laughed under his breath, adding, “Although after a few fucks from this big black dick that tight little pussy ain’t gonna be so tight anymore.”

I lifted my face from my hands, my cheeks flushed, eyes swollen; tear streaks on my face, my lower lip trembling. “I don’t have a choice do I?”

“You got plenty of choices,” Morris said. “This isn’t blackmail. You can get out of here, walk away, go home and tell your hubby everything you been up to and let him help you raise the money. You can try to stiff me on my money—in which case I’ll treat it exactly like I would a gambling debt and I promise you that you do not want to try that option. You can maybe buy a lottery ticket on the way home and hit it before day after tomorrow, or call a favorite aunt and borrow the money from her. Or you can be at the Marriott in room 927 day after tomorrow and let’s get this thing started of you saving the interest. If you don’t show up in four weeks that $15,000 goes up to $22,500. I will get my money one way or the other—all of it—including interest.”

I didn’t know where it came from, but I summoned up what strength I could, looked Morris square in the face and told him, “If I am meeting you and you are fucking me I want $250 taken off the $15,000 each time I meet you.”

Morris laughed a loud belly laugh. “Now that’s more like it,” he chuckled. “You getting the fire back that I saw on that video.” I didn’t speak, but I felt as if I had lost some of the fear. I was still afraid but I wasn’t terrified.

Morris was smiling. “So you want it clearer that our fucks are going to be money oriented?”

“I guess so.” I said.

‘Sure, why not,” Morris laughed. “You fuck me when I want and we’ll consider that interest, and every time we get together I’ll deduct $250.00 off the balance. Shit, I usually pay $300 when I hire a hooker.”

‘No, each fuck. We fuck twice at a meeting that would be $500.00.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Morris said. “You are lucky the idea of $250.00 per visit amuses me. Something about getting right down to putting a money figure on a fuck is appealing.” Morris said, adding almost as an afterthought, “OK. On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“You give me a good blow job on the house.”

I hesitated, but the battle in my mind had already been fought. I was resigned to it. “OK.”

“Now.” Morris said, unbuckling his pants.

“Here?”

“Here.” Morris flipped up the wheel and scooted his seat as far back as it would go. He unsnapped his pants. “Rest is up to you.”