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Sweet Firtation, Seduction, Temptation

'I write because there is a voice within me that will not be still' Sylvia Plath


You Don't Know My Name

Yancy Vasser a night receptionist at Mo Hits Records, who looks like that chick who went by the name of Rabbit on the former reality show, Real Chance of Love.


126 lbs


A real and true hottie. And besides having that smooth milk chocolate skin that I just love ... And besides having a "banging" body that I could not get enough of ... She was the definition of kindness; taking me in when I had no pot, pan, skillet or jar to urinate in ... Indubitably.

The gist of it all was that I was in an unhappy marriage. One night I went walking with the weight of the world on my shoulders. Then I was accidentally hit by a car, fell and took a blow to the head. The result being a case of selective amnesia where I could remember certain facts such as my likes and dislikes, but nothing about my previous life as a husband and father. Oh and somebody stole my wallet as well ... Yeah ... A red banner day.

So I was treated, but got a little stir crazy and left the hospital

Somehow after of weeks of wandering, I ended up at Yancy's house, sleeping in her backyard. She discovered me. And after the initial shock of it all, instead of shooing me off, she invited me in for coffee and breakfast after I offered to mow her front and back lawn and do some simple repairs around the house.


Yancy Be My Name

All scruffy and scraggly ...

Full, dirty beard.


God only knows how long he was traveling the world like a fake Richard David Kimble. What I do know is that I could never turn down an unwanted stray. And let me tell you, I've never seen anyone who defined that term so much so in my entire life. And I just had to help him. Especially when he offered to do some Mr. Fix-It type "ish" around my house. Stuff that I could do, but hadn't gotten around to doing, because I would prefer someone with hairy arms and broad shoulders to do it. And here he was.

He didn't know what his name was. So I called him "Cameron" for the time being. And while Cameron was mowing the lawn, I locked up and headed to the store to buy some quick grocery, shaving cream, a razor and some electric clippers. Then on the way home I stopped and got a couple of outfits that I estimated would fit him. Because even without realizing it, I guess I knew deep down that I was taking him on as a project.

Next thing I knew, I was cooking this Grizzly Adams looking brother the best breakfast of his life. But of course, he wasn't sitting down on my kitchen chairs or my couch without washing the "great outdoors" off of his body; leaving my tub a shade of black that I'd never seen before.

When it was all said and done though, he cleaned up nicely. But I forgot to give him the razor. So after I fed him a hearty breakfast, I made him take off his shirt, pinned a dry off towel around his neck and proceeded to not only shave him, but to give him a amateur haircut. And doggone if he didn't look like a wonderful specimen of a man when I got done ... Hot dog!


Yancy's Daughter

Gia Vasser.

That's my name.

I'm Yancy Vasser's daughter. Some say the younger version/ clone of her. That I look just like her when she was my age. Which is probably why some men have done a double take when they saw me walking on the street.

I didn't see him when he was looking like a bum. If I had, I probably would have been wigged out of my mind. But I saw him clean and shaved and hair cut. And the dude looked good as I don't know what. I know ... like DENZEL WASHINGTON in the movie, Mo Better Blues.

She made him a part of our lives. Let him sleep on a roll away bed down in the basement. Which I thought was weird. Not only because he was a stranger, but because it was ice cold in the basement. And I didn't think any amount of blankets could make that any better. So after about two or three days of him tip toeing around the house, fixing things and cooking us breakfast, lunch and dinner, I made a motion. I convinced mom that he should move upstairs and sleep on the couch. And she agreed.

Little did I know that it wouldn't be long before he moved from the couch to my mother's bed ... Yeah ... That part right there ...

It was a crazy, mixed up kind of thing. Because I'd known mom to have different men in her bed. But it was different when it was a guy that I'd come to care about before hand; maybe even developed a major crush on.

The interesting thing about it though ... My mom is a workaholic. And even though she works nights, she'll take on extra work that will trickle over into the day shift. And she'll volunteer for stuff, like working different events for the company, in order to be noticed. So having a boyfriend in general can be a bit of an inconvenience. Because most guys don't want to be second to a woman's job and aren't afraid to make it known.

In this case, Mom had a live-in boyfriend. Someone that it was much easier to take for granted, because she knew that whenever she came home, he'd be there. Especially since she wasn't encouraging him to get a job; telling him not to worry about anything like that as long as he couldn't remember who he was.

Not that she wanted Cameron to remember who he was. Right? Because no other man would do all of the things for her that he was doing. Cooking. Cleaning. Fixing things ... Fixing her ... I mean, the noises I heard coming out of their room were ... animalistic .... As well as arousing ...

I told you I had a crush on him ....

And those noises ... He obviously wasn't killing her. Because if I ran into her in the hallway going to the washroom, or the next morning in the kitchen, she was "cheesing" as if she were a little kid posing for a photograph.

So I got curious ... I did.

I had to know ... I had to.

So one night when they were really and truly going at it, I tip toed to their door and covertly turned the knob. Not so hard to do, because they tried to disguise their activities with sultry Soul music ... Some chick named BETTY WRIGHT. And another guy named SOLOMON BURKE.

Okay, so I cracked the door ... And I could see enough with my mom's two lava lamps and the digital display from her alarm clock illuminating the room. And my breath got caught in my throat. I'm talking totally transfixed and stupefied. An image that I couldn't get out of my head. A image that I took with me back to bed and stayed on my mind throughout the day.

Suddenly I wanted my mom to be gone. I wanted to be closer to him and feel even a third of what I thought that he was making her feel. Which was why I would ask him to watch movies with me downstairs and then I'd cuddle up next to him. And I paraded in front of him in t-shirt and panties when it was just us alone. Running to my bedroom to grab a robe or suddenly retiring to bed when I heard her pull into the driveway.

I could see him checking me out.

I knew that he liked what he saw.

And since I would sometimes watch tv with them in their room, he wasn't shocked when I climbed on to the bed one night with him as he watched a show I really wasn't into. But I feigned being cold and slid under the covers with him.

I could feel him shiver with me being only a few inches away from him. And then I shifted my body so that, while laying on my side, I could put my head on his chest. Followed after several minutes by me backing my behind against his leg. And I could feel the heat generating between us. And I knew that it was going to be inevitable that my dear sweet amnesiac was going to cross the line with me soon enough. Hopefully before he remembered who he was and where he came from.

© 2022 LaZeric Freeman

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