Arms Length

Victor didn't live in Columbia. He lived in Atlanta, hours away. He paid for Elizabeth's gas mileage, but minimum wage otherwise. Impoverished indeed.

Nor did he need it. He was the most fastidious man Elizabeth had ever met. In his early 60s, everything was perfectly pressed and organized in his home. And though he was wealthy, he hardly lived that way. It was ... nice. But not the luxury that Elizabeth had become accustomed too with Douglas.

He was educated, Ivy League degrees both for undergrad and an MBA. Elizabeth's limited interactions left her feeling that his intellect eclipsed even that of Douglas. And yet no traces of a woman in the home either.

"Ummm ... Master ..." Elizabeth said, biting her lower lip.

"Yes, what is it girl?" Victor asked, appraising her coldly.

"I just have to ask ... why you haven't ... why there isn't ..." she stammered.

"Ahhh, I was wondering when you'd get to that. I don't really have the time or charm for a woman on a full-time basis," he said simply.

"You're a fit, handsome man. And I saw that bank account statement last week, so that's just an excuse," Elizabeth noted.

"You're not quite the barbie doll I had originally taken you for. So much the better," Victor said, walking over to her. She could smell his expensive cologne and it made her weak in the knees. "Fine. A more fulsome explanation is in order. I have enterprises that are squeaky clean of course. But broader still, I have businesses that fall into certain ... gray areas. Those areas need not concern you. But few women would tolerate such risk."

"Bullshit," Elizabeth snorted. "I was married to a lawyer and a politician. And on the streets, I've fucked my share of questionable men."

"Fine," Victor repeated, his eyes narrowing. "My tastes are irreconciliable."

"How?" Elizabeth asked, genuinely curious.

"Like you, I have crossed the racial lines. I grew up in that ghetto out there," Victor said, pointing to a grimy neighborhood barely visible from the luxury high-rise. "And I transcended. I've dated ... women that are where I grew up. Black. Mouthy. But it feels comfortable, nostalgic. And they are unrestrained in bed, and my cock loves that. White bitches ... I enjoy the act of owning them most of all. Hooking them on Black cock. Enjoying their ... sophistication and breeding. But the asses are small and the head is weak, and the cultural compatibility … lacks. It is a conundrum. I want both worlds, therefore I get none."

Elizabeth fidgeted slightly, peeking down at Victor's crotch. For an old man, he had an awfully big bulge.

"I think I ..." she faltered.

"Can succeed where others have faltered?" Elizabeth swallowed. She was curious after all. She nodded slightly. Victor sighed and shrugged.

"Fine. Stay the night. What do you want? Ritz? Four Seasons?”

"I'd be more comfortable near the ghetto," Elizabeth said, and Victor smiled broadly. "Tomorrow, 7:00 p.m. then. Text me a place you'd like to meet at, and we'll see if you're compatible where others are not."