Corns

Aaron was the servant for Bernice Evans, a 53-year Black female. It wasn't sexual, not yet. She did set Aaron on tasks: cleaning her home, learning how to cook soul food for a Black woman, and rubbing the corns on her feet.

Bernice ran the city library, trying to redirect the supply to something that more equitably serviced their mixed community, after years of simply pandering to the white folk. And Aaron, with soft white hands and a doe-like demeanor, was perfect for servicing her tired feet each day.

Aaron applied generous amounts of cream to his feet, rubbing the rough feet of his owner. She didn't talk much to him -- more _at _him. And he didn't get much of a look at more than anything knee high. But when she gave him the laundry to do, he spent time, memorizing her scent, breathing in every droplet of arousal and sweat hidden in those drawers, beholding himself to her even when she wasn't around. And he waited for the opportunity to do more to this bossy, dominant older Black woman.