Done in by the Felon

"Let's stop for a drink, sweetie," Nancy said, tugging Aaron's hand. He protested, trying to pull her past the hole in the wall. But she persisted.

"That rom com doesn't start for an hour anyway," Nancy said, rolling her eyes. "Plenty of time for a quick drink."

Aaron had tried to shy away from the clubbing and partying, as Nancy had a growing affinity for strong Black men. So rom-coms, pickleball, anything where he could safely simp for his work wife. And now here he was. Looking up at a Black bouncer over twice his age. He gulped.

"Just two, s-s-sir," he stammered.

"Two peckerwoods is what I see," the old Black man said, with a barrel chest and a shock of gray-white hair. He looked familiar to Aaron for some reason.

"We're twenty-one plus. And being a cracker ain't all bad," Nancy said, grinning wryly. The man looked at the redhead, up and down, like the lecher that he was. He smiled at her.

"True enough," he said, stepping to the side. The little bar was empty at this early hour, but the purveyor, also a Black man, prepared a couple of daiquiris for the two colleagues. Aaron flushed, hearing the bouncer scoff at his order. Why on earth a place like this needed a bouncer, especially so early, was beyond him. They drank a second, and then Nancy, armed with liquid courage, went over and started talking to the bouncer. And like clockwork, the two soon disappeared into the bathroom. And then they emerged thirty minutes later, Nancy still licking the man's cum off her lips.

"We're going to be late, Nance," Aaron said urgently.

"Oh, we're going to have to cancel sweets," Nancy said amiably. "Can you drop me and Moses off at my place? We're going to spend some time together."

"Moses?"

"The bouncer, yes, Moses Jones. Used to be mayor. I remember reading about him in school. C'mon, sweets, I promised."