The next morning

I woke up the next morning to the sound of my phone buzzing on the nightstand. Groaning, I reached over to silence it, my eyes still closed against the bright morning light streaming through the blinds.

“Hello?” I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep.

“Hey, girl,” came my best friend’s cheerful voice from the other end of the line. “How was your night?”

I opened my eyes then, memories of the previous evening flooding back. A smile spread across my face as I thought about Tyrone, about the way he had touched me and made me feel.

“It was good,” I finally replied, trying and failing to keep the giddiness out of my voice.

My friend – Sue – squealed on the other end of the phone. “Details!” she demanded. “Now!”

I laughed, sitting up in bed.

I started telling her everything, from the moment I had met Tyrone to our steamy encounter in the bathroom. My teen black hunk lay there next to me asleep, I couldn’t help but grin at what had been a very pleasant night.

By the time I finished my story, Sue was practically hyperventilating with excitement. “Oh my god, Brenda,” she breathed, her voice filled with awe. “That’s so hot. Tell me everything.”

I grinned, a blush heating my cheeks despite the fact that I was alone in the room. “I just did,” I reminded her, stretching out on the bed.

“I mean about him,” she clarified. “Is he as good-looking as you thought? And more importantly, is he packing?”

Oh yes, Tyrone was definitely packing. He more than lived up to the stereotype of big black cock, and then some.

“He’s gorgeous,” I finally said, choosing my words carefully. “And yes, he’s definitely gifted in the downstairs department.”

Sue let out a low whistle. “Damn girl, you hit the jackpot. What are you going to do now?”

I considered the question for a moment, weighing my options. On the one hand, I could use this as a chance to get Tyrone out of my system. We could keep hooking up in secret until I was satisfied, and then I could go back to living my best life as a single mother.

On the other hand, there was a chance that Tyrone and I could be good together. We had hit it off last night, talking and laughing like we had known each other for years rather than hours. And the sex… well, the sex had been nothing short of mind-blowing.

“I’m not sure yet,” I finally admitted, my fingers playing with a loose thread on the comforter. “Part of me wants to keep seeing him, to see where this goes. But another part of me is scared of getting too attached.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, long enough for me to pull the phone away from my ear to make sure we hadn’t been disconnected. When I put it back, I could hear Sue sigh softly.

“I get it,” she said, her voice gentle. “But honey, you’ve been alone for so long. Don’t you think it’s time to take a chance? To open yourself up to the possibility of love again?”

I bit my lip, torn. On the one hand, my friend had a point – it had been years since my divorce, years since I had felt the touch of a man or the flutter of butterflies in my stomach. Maybe it was time for me to put myself out there again, to see what the world had to offer.