She looked through the special drawer that she had for her necklaces. She had a lot of them. It was, for her, kind of a hobby or at least a fascination. She was smiling, as usual, and wondering which one she might suggest for today.
Today it was one of her knit shirts. She looked again in the mirror, liking what she saw, and giving her Momma a silent word of thanks again.
You see, she took after her Momma. She, Jumaine Wilson that is, had her Momma's great genes. She had short hair that she kept curly and close to her scalp. Her smile was radiant, and the rest was her Momma, pure and simple.
Her Momma, Julie, had been her height and rather large through the bust, as was Jumaine. It was something that Jumaine was proud of too. She liked the knit creations that she constantly sought out, because they emphasized her breasts and she thought that her breasts were her best feature or at least one of her best features.
Of course, it was Momma Julie's thought that Jumaine's lovely smile was probably her winning feature. But Jumaine liked her large breasts, her 38cs, her 'girls', as she called them, only to herself.
It was Momma's advice that Jumaine might buy a necklace that would maybe call some attention away from her breasts and make her image a bit more sedate.
What Jumaine discovered was that the combination of those large, beaded and rattily necklaces were absolutely great companions to her 'girls'.
She sought them out and bought various ones frequently, if she discovered any that were large and bangly. That's what she liked most of all.
So, today, for Jumaine Wilson it would be a knit blouse and one of her special necklaces, and, of course, some cleavage. It's the way that she preferred to dress.
Until she'd found her present job, the front person for a large medical practice, she'd lived with Momma but now Jumaine had declared her independence and lived in her own small but lovely place.
She got together with her Momma frequently and they shared a wonderful relationship. She didn't particularly go for all of the churchy things that her Momma did but that was never a real bone of contention between them. And she realized too that, once her beloved Poppa died about two years ago, the church things became even more important to her Momma as a social kind of outlet too.
With Momma Julie's help and guidance, Jumaine got a good education, doing night school work to get some good skills at accounts and secretarial skills. It helped her along, and ultimately won for her the present position that she had.
Jumaine was bright and breezy. She had a smile and a kind word for everyone and was very popular in the office, with the medical staffs.
There were, of course, some that she liked better than others but she was pleasant to all of them.
Today it was a dark skirt, pleated but not too short. She wore, with this, a knit top that was kind of gray with stripes through it, though the stripes were muted and not really visible, unless you were up close to her.
Again, with her Mother's advice, she took a good deal of her early salary money and bought herself some really nice clothes, including the knit tops she liked, which allowed her to show off a bit of 'the girls'.
The necklace would be the large array of mostly dark beads. It hung down across the front of her breasts. Jumaine liked the effect.
She twirled around in front of her mirror and approved. She had hips that were pleasing, she thought, and not too wide. Her legs were those of an athlete, which she'd been certainly in high school.
Jumaine Wilson was 25, Afro-American and physically lovely. There had been some 'boyfriends' along the way but Jumaine tried to keep herself aware of what kind of life she wanted for herself.
She had so many girl friends who succumbed to the 'baby at the age of 17 or so' syndrome, that seemed to be the norm for girls, at least in her neighborhood. She didn't want for herself that kind of almost traditional role. It's also one that she and her Momma had talked about any number of times.
Today was a Wednesday, she mused to herself, and that meant that some favorites would be there today. It would be one of Dr. Kelly Casey's days in, short, strawberry blond, and gorgeous. It would also be Dr Alastair Carlson's day in, her very favorite.
It certainly gave Jumaine something to look forward to.
She was in the office early to open it and get things ready for the stream of patients that would be coming in, in about 45 minutes."There she is, folks," came a soft female voice from the side. "And look at the boobs on this girl!"
Jumaine looked up at the smiling face of Kelly Casey.
"Doctor!" Jumaine said in a soft voice.
Kelly Casey leaned her elbows against the counter where Jumaine did her work.
"Gee," she said, grinning, "I wish I were into women; I'd be all over you, girl, like a rash."
Jumaine grinned widely at this normal greeting from this lovely, lovely woman.
"Gonna take you up on that one day," she quipped back at Kelly Casey. "Just gonna!"
"Still no boyfriend?" Kelly asked.
"Mostly trolls," Jumaine said in a winey voice.
"Got that right!" Kelly Casey said.
"How's the great doctor today?" Jumaine asked, just as the door opened.
"Well, here he is now, so you can ask him yourself," Kelly said.
Both she and Jumaine were giggling.
"Yes," Alastair Carlson said, "Joke at my expense?"
"Just talking about 'the great doctor," Kelly Casey explained.
"Well, let me know when he or she gets here," Alastair said, and all three of them laughed.
Kelly Casey walked away then to get to her area and get ready to begin her day.
Once she'd walked away, Alastair Carlson placed a bag on the counter. He didn't say a word; he just smiled at Jumaine. She gave him a huge, white toothed smile and said: "Thank you, Dr Carlson."
"My pleasure, pretty Jumaine," he said, and grinned at her and walked into the back to get ready for his patient load.
The espresso was exactly the way that Jumaine liked.
After Jumaine had worked for the medical office for about a half a year, Alastair Carlson had begun to bring her cups of espresso, when he discovered, quite by accident in a casual conversation, that she really liked it.
It was their special way by now.
She took a sip of the lovely, dark black brew and waited. She knew it was coming.
"Looking good," he said, his usual phrase. "Your beads and you."
She giggled and grinned at him, as he walked away, thinking to herself that Alastair Carlson was one of the really, really special ones.
"Leave his clothes on, girl," came Kelly Casey's voice from the side, where she emerged, just as Alastair Carlson was walking away.
"The man has style," Jumaine said.
"And a nice booty," Kelly Casey added, as she now lounged at Jumaine's desk.
"Got that right," Jumaine said, grinning.
"Okay," Kelly said next, "To work now that we've, or at least you've ogled the hard working staff."
"Yes," Jumaine said with a grin. "To work."
"Saw him staring at your girls!" Kelly said, and both of them went into rafts of giggles.
"Gettin' me steamed up, girl," Kelly said. "I'll have to bite my Sam's naked butt tonight, compliments of you."
"Glad to oblige," Jumaine said.
"Give me a hug and then it's the salt mines," Kelly said, coming around the desk.
They hugged and Kelly whispered into Jumaine's ear: "Jumaine, honey, you're the prettiest one here!"
It was cheek kisses then and to work.
For Alastair Carlson, it had begun almost as soon as Jumaine was hired for the job. He was, as the saying goes, 'smitten' almost immediately. It initially caused him no end of trouble. He, at first, even refused to believe his reaction. He told himself time and again that he wasn't, just wasn't having this kind of reaction to this Afro American woman.
That kind of self debate had gone on for a good many months and then he decided on a campaign. But Alastair Carlson was a very, very slow and careful man.
To date the essence of his campaign was lodged in the fact that he'd discovered that Jumaine liked strong espresso. When he was scheduled for office hours at the medical suite he brought her espresso. As a matter of fact, doing that had been his sister Andrea's idea.
It was to Andrea that he'd carried his troubles and complaints about his 'infatuation', as he called it, with a black girl.
Andrea's snorted reply was something like: "What does it matter if she's black or green or orange. It you like her, begin to show her that you do."
This sage advice had led to a discussion about what Alastair knew about Jumaine that could be used for a 'campaign' and the answer to that, which came up in one of their talks, was the espresso.
It probably should be said that the espresso was, as of then, the entire essence of Alastair's campaign, though he and Andrea talked about it often.
He'd even, at her insistence, plumbed for some information about and from Jumaine, gathered at those times, when there would be a general pause in the work, often at the end of the day. It's how he discovered that she had no boyfriend and that she lived with her Momma, Julie.
But Andrea's advice was to not give up his 'campaign'. She was sure that it was going to end positively. Alastair took her sage advice and hung in there with the campaign.
A DISASTER TURNS WONDERFUL:
.... There is more of this story ...