Black Master, white sissy Part 2

I was a romantic despite the cynicism I projected in my job. This tough black skinhead yob had abused me - he had shaved me, humiliated me and yet for the next week what I remembered most was the kiss. Sure, the abuse had touched something in me but until I had met him it was unacknowledged - something hidden deep in the dark places of my psyche where I was unwilling to go rummaging. He had brought them out to the light but I wasn't ready to confront them yet, to see what place they might have in my life. Kissing was different - that I could relate to, that I felt was something I wanted more of. Especially with him, with my black working class thug and seducer.

I felt that the chemistry between us had been terrific, something exceptional. My head was way up in the clouds for days, dreaming of him, of being kissed again by him. After our impromptu session in the warehouse I just felt that of course he'd want to see me again and soon. I even imagined he'd come with me for a drink - somewhere far from where I lived because I couldn't let my neighbours and the locals see me with someone so evidently rough and uncouth.

So I was waiting for him to make the invitation as I got dressed after that first meeting; but it didn't come; he just looked at me insolently - almost with something like a sneer or with contempt. And I still hadn't finished dressing when he turned on his heel and moved off. I called out after him, 'Hey, just a minute!' and he turned and looked at me, still with something that was halfway between amusement and scorn. I didn't know what to say. He made me feel silly and kind of less of a man than he, and I was flustered. I was struck dumb and all I could do was pull out my wallet and give him my business card. He took it and looked at it as if it was something he had never seen before - maybe he hadn't - turning it this way and that between his fingers as if he had no idea what this slender piece of card might be or what use it could possibly serve. For an awful moment I thought he was going to throw it away but he did finally slip it into his pocket and without a word walked off. Only then did I realise that I didn't even know his name.