Tag leaned against the side of his office building and took one final drag of his cigarette, relishing the smoke that filled his lungs before exhaling. He casually tossed the butt on the ground and smashed it with his heel. He should quit. It was ironic that he was a doctor and knew exactly what these little cancer sticks were doing to his lungs but he justified it because he only smoked in times of stress. There were months where he didn’t even think about lighting up, but lately it was becoming a crutch more often than he liked to think about.
His mind drifted to his live-in lover of the past twelve months. In his thirty-eight years, no woman had ever made him feel the way Alex did. She wasn’t beautiful in the conventional sense, but she was definitely striking. With just one look from her exotically slanted, light brown eyes, his cock would jump to attention.
Alex knew exactly how to use her God-given gifts to her advantage and turned heads wherever she went with her soft, medium-brown skin, full, bow-shaped lips, and an ass so round and juicy it was perfect for riding. Tag loved fucking her from behind and smacking that luscious ass of her while pulling on her thick, shoulder-length black hair.
It was always music to his ears to hear her scream and moan his name as his cock plowed into her. Tag also loved to run his lightly tanned hands over her dark body, the color contrasts of their skin adding yet another erotic element to their lovemaking. There was nothing Alex wouldn’t let him do to her in bed. Nothing. She let him take her in any hole, in any position, and anywhere. Sexually, everything was perfect.
Their home life ran smoothly as well. She cooked all their meals, cleaned, never hassled him when he wanted to hang out with his friends, and watched sports with him. He wasn’t one of those misogynistic men who thought it was a woman’s place to do housework, but it just wasn’t his thing, either. When she’d agreed to move into his townhouse, he’d offered to hire a permanent housekeeper instead of the one who only came by once a week, but Alex had insisted that she could do it herself.
Tag supposed she did spoil him. He liked coming home and inhaling the aroma of the fruity-scented candles she favored. He enjoyed partaking in her home-cooked meals, and had become accustomed to having freshly laundered clothes, all folded neatly in his drawers. To him, things were already perfect. Tag’s philosophy in life was that if it wasn’t broke, then don’t fix it.
As far as he was concerned, things were in great working order. The problem was that Alex didn’t think so. On the anniversary of her moving in with him, she had brought up the “M” word. It had been the first in a long series of heated arguments, and the last one had been particularly nasty. Why did she have to get on this wedding kick? Damn it, why did she want to mess up a good thing?
No one knew more than Tag that matrimony didn’t guarantee a happily-ever-after. Alex had argued that he couldn’t possibly know since he’d never experienced it. Well, one didn’t have to put their hand in fire to know that it was hot. His parents, sister, brother, friends—all miserable, and marriage was the reason.
He fumbled with his lighter. When Tag looked up, he saw an old woman crossing the street just as a Mack truck was bearing down on her.
He was a board certified plastic surgeon but knew that even he wouldn’t be able to put that lady back together again if she got hit by that huge chunk of moving metal. Without further though, Tag dashed into the street, grabbing the woman’s arm and pulled her out of the truck’s way even as its horns blared on the way past them. In the nick of time, thank God!
Their momentum sent the two of them flying to the ground. Tag immediately jumped back to his feet, holding out his hand to the elderly woman and helping her up. “Are you okay, ma’am?”
“Oh, my goodness, me! You saved my life.” She was panting and seemed really shaken up, which was understandable, considering how close she’d come to death.
“It was nothing. Do you think you’ll be okay? Maybe you should come up to my office and have a seat until you’ve had a chance to rest.”
“You’re such a nice young man.” The woman looked up at him with a weather-beaten, wrinkled face, but her hazel eyes were surprisingly clear and youthful. They didn’t seem to fit her old, old face. “Oh, no. I couldn’t. I have to meet someone. I’ll be fine.” Her voice sounded young, too.
“Are you sure?” he asked, concerned. She appeared really feeble.
“Of course, but I must repay you for your kindness. My name is Psy-- I mean, Sally.” She held out her frail-looking hand, which he immediately shook.
“You don’t have to repay me, and I’d rather you didn’t.”
“But I must. My husband would be furious if he knew I was here like this.”
“Really, ma’am, I don’t need any kind of payment. Just knowing you’re okay is rewarding enough.”
Sally grabbed his wrist in a surprisingly tight grip. “I’m not what I appear to be. One wish. Anything you want will be yours. You just speak the words and I’ll make it happen.”