found. I asked her if she would let me stay with her for a few days until I could start looking for a place to live. She told me I could stay with her as long as I needed to and that she was happy that I was not crying. I was not upset or heartbroken, I was simply mad; mad at myself and pissed at asshole for making me feel stupid.
I told her that I wanted to get even and I was going to do it the best way I knew how. We spent the next three hours packing my things. I took everything I brought into the house and all my personal items. My clothes made up the bulk of what I owned but I also had a lot of kitchen stuff and framed prints to pack. When we got finished it looked like nobody even lived in the apartment. Almost everything that was in the place was mine. All that was left was the mattress, which we left on the floor because the bed frame was mine, a few dishes in the opened cabinets, his clothes and his CD collection. Everything else was packed and ready for the movers to take to storage. I packed a suitcase with some clothes so I did not need to go to the storage unit for a while and we waited.
Marci grabbed a bottle of vodka and a half gallon of orange juice from the liquor store while I waited for the movers to arrive. She came back with the package goods and pulled two of jack asses frosted beer mugs out of the freezer. She filled them with ice, poured them half full with vodka and topped them off with orange juice.
We clicked our glasses together and toasted my leaving to start over again. She told me she was proud of me for being so strong. She said she had never met a twenty something year old with such guts and beauty. I said she was just being nice but she just pointed at my portfolio lying on top of one of the boxes and said, “Anyone that can model like that is definitely beautiful.” I made a joke and said I was talking about being strong, I already knew I was beautiful.
We finished our drinks and poured one more before the buzzer rang. I hit the intercom and confirmed that it was the moving company, and then I buzzed them up. The two movers were very well build and handsome. One was a white guy that wore a name tag on his overalls that simply read “Bob”. The other was a bald, and strikingly handsome, black guy named Kevin.
They moved my stuff to the van down at the curb in front of my building. It did not take them more than a half hour while Marci and I watched them in action. I told her I was strangely attracted to Kevin and wondered what it would be like to fuck a black guy. She smiled and said she was thinking the same thing. As we were giggling they came back in the room. Kevin said they were finished and that I needed to sign some paperwork. We offered them a screwdriver and Kevin accepted but Bob declined. We figured Bob was the party pooper of the group so we did not push the issue. Instead we flirted with Kevin for a while.
It turned out that Kevin was a mover by day but a disk jockey at night. He flashed a brilliant white smile at us and told us he would put our names on his guest list if we wanted to come and hear him spin for the night. He was working at a new club in the village and the joint was invite only so we were excited to check it out. We exchanged numbers and he took our names down on a small piece of paper. He sent me a text of the exact address from his phone and kissed us each on the cheek like a true gentleman as he left. Bob loped along behind him barely looking at us as he mumbled good bye under his breath.
Marci and I left the panties and the earrings in the empty beer mugs, took our vodka bottle and jug of orange juice and left. I shut the door with the key still inside the apartment on the kitchen counter next to the mugs. I took a deep breath and stepped into the rest of my life as I descended down the stairs for the very last time. I knew I never wanted to see the
I told her that I wanted to get even and I was going to do it the best way I knew how. We spent the next three hours packing my things. I took everything I brought into the house and all my personal items. My clothes made up the bulk of what I owned but I also had a lot of kitchen stuff and framed prints to pack. When we got finished it looked like nobody even lived in the apartment. Almost everything that was in the place was mine. All that was left was the mattress, which we left on the floor because the bed frame was mine, a few dishes in the opened cabinets, his clothes and his CD collection. Everything else was packed and ready for the movers to take to storage. I packed a suitcase with some clothes so I did not need to go to the storage unit for a while and we waited.
Marci grabbed a bottle of vodka and a half gallon of orange juice from the liquor store while I waited for the movers to arrive. She came back with the package goods and pulled two of jack asses frosted beer mugs out of the freezer. She filled them with ice, poured them half full with vodka and topped them off with orange juice.
We clicked our glasses together and toasted my leaving to start over again. She told me she was proud of me for being so strong. She said she had never met a twenty something year old with such guts and beauty. I said she was just being nice but she just pointed at my portfolio lying on top of one of the boxes and said, “Anyone that can model like that is definitely beautiful.” I made a joke and said I was talking about being strong, I already knew I was beautiful.
We finished our drinks and poured one more before the buzzer rang. I hit the intercom and confirmed that it was the moving company, and then I buzzed them up. The two movers were very well build and handsome. One was a white guy that wore a name tag on his overalls that simply read “Bob”. The other was a bald, and strikingly handsome, black guy named Kevin.
They moved my stuff to the van down at the curb in front of my building. It did not take them more than a half hour while Marci and I watched them in action. I told her I was strangely attracted to Kevin and wondered what it would be like to fuck a black guy. She smiled and said she was thinking the same thing. As we were giggling they came back in the room. Kevin said they were finished and that I needed to sign some paperwork. We offered them a screwdriver and Kevin accepted but Bob declined. We figured Bob was the party pooper of the group so we did not push the issue. Instead we flirted with Kevin for a while.
It turned out that Kevin was a mover by day but a disk jockey at night. He flashed a brilliant white smile at us and told us he would put our names on his guest list if we wanted to come and hear him spin for the night. He was working at a new club in the village and the joint was invite only so we were excited to check it out. We exchanged numbers and he took our names down on a small piece of paper. He sent me a text of the exact address from his phone and kissed us each on the cheek like a true gentleman as he left. Bob loped along behind him barely looking at us as he mumbled good bye under his breath.
Marci and I left the panties and the earrings in the empty beer mugs, took our vodka bottle and jug of orange juice and left. I shut the door with the key still inside the apartment on the kitchen counter next to the mugs. I took a deep breath and stepped into the rest of my life as I descended down the stairs for the very last time. I knew I never wanted to see the
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