All The Wrong Places

Her name was Lisa.

She said that she was in town on military leave.

The military that explained why her body was so exquisite.
Lisa and Trey had a good conversation and made plans to get together.

 Excited more then he cared to admit, Trey had detailed his car with Q-tips and a toothbrush.

His outfit was the exact thing that the mannequin had been clothed in, it looked much better on the former track star then it had on the dummy.
Trey pulled up to her address, checked his teeth in the rear view mirror, and then hopped up the stairs two at a time.

She looked delectable, even better than when they first met.
As Trey is closing her door a taxi approaches, the passenger settles his tab and is out knocking on the door that Lisa had just exited before Trey can pull off.
 "Omg that's my EX how's he even know I'm back? Oh shit. Let me get rid of him, I'll be right back."  She brushed his bicep as she got out of his muscle car.
Trey watched as the pair appeared to argue.

He also watched as the woman hopped into the cab with her "Ex"
Embarrassed, Trey eased his car into gear and drive away.
It didn't take long for Trey to recover from the humiliation.
Retail therapy is real, and not only for females.

Trey returned to the store where he had denuded the mannequin.
Trey was fly.
The girl at the clothing store had really did her thing. He had wanted to shoot his shot, but she was way out of his league. "Scrat gojus!" As his cousin Montreal would say.
Trey was much too nervous.

 It was difficult to have a conversation with a woman who could have easily been on a movie screen.
A helluva salesperson.

 Trey figured that her flirtatious demeanor must have sold lots of clothes. "She's right though," he thought, "This shirt do look good then a motherfucker on me!"

The club was jumping.

It was a new spot, with a swimming pool in the middle of the floor.

The pool was covered by a retractable veil of Plexiglas.

 The Dj. was murdering it.
Trey liked the place, Club Paradise.
Spacious, it was nice the decor just a hair past cheesy.

The Dj was giving em that "old school" it wasn't really Trey's thing he was more of a Trap Music guy.
He lingered just outside the dancefloor sipping his long island ice tea.

The woman who was motioning for him was bad.
So bad that Trey looked over each shoulder and then pointed to his chest and mouthed "Me" incredulously.
They danced to every slow song the Dj played.
It was like a dream.
The sex was awesome.

 Every time he looked at her magnificent body he was ready to go again.

 The next day he was relaxing and watching football. 

The following day, Trey decided to give Jessica, the woman from Club Paradise a call. 

"Hello? Hey this is Trey. Um Trey. You met me a couple nights ago at Club Paradise?" 

She finally seemed to be catching on to who he was. 

"Oh Yeah, Terry, Toney or whatever. Yeah I remember. I really needed that and it was nice. Um but Tony. Oh Trey. Yeah it was what it was. I don't really want you calling me and shit."

Trey felt cheap, used, and unclean. 

More retail therapy.

 This time Skye the girl at the clothing store flirted harder than the previous two occasions. 

Trey assumed it was her way of making sales. 

Draped in his newest finery Trey decided to hit up a popular sports bar.

His recent unluckiness with the ladies gave Trey a rather serious expression, which coupled with his nice outfit appealed to a certain type of woman and that woman made her move. 

"Bredren." Said the sexy caramel colored Jamaican woman. "You gotta be da coolest bruder in here sin. Ya wa fuh come home wit me?" 

Trey went.

 The pair engaged in some vigorous sexual aerobics, at the conclusion of those activities the woman whose name Trey never caught said: "Ya need gas money?" A simple way of telling him that it was time to leave. 

Now he really felt like a prostitute. 

He decided that he would head back to the men's store the next day. This time he was going for Skye and not the racks of clothing.