Alright ya’ll I know I was dead ass wrong for starting a blog and then just letting the shit accumulate cobwebs. But trust me, I have a good excuse. What, you ask? I have been boo’d up and loving every milli second of it. But, just like a friend who stops going out with the girls on a reg when she gets new peen in her life, here I am writing and begging for forgiveness now that my boo is gone. :(
So, in my effort to move on and (hopefully) get this guy out of my system for once and for all (hopefully) *crossing fingers* I figured I need to do what so many do and blog it the fuck out from the beginning. Yep, the entire twisted tale that not even Myspace got the privilege of reading.
*sigh*
Here goes. . . .
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------The Begining of Enigma and Mr. Big: A Series of Unfortunate Events
It had been about six month since Ex-Fiance and I had broken up and I was doing what most would have in my situation: pAAArtying like a rock star!!! Now, prior to this breakup, I had been a fan of the notion that the best way to get over one guy is to get under another one, but this time I was trying the whole “me-time” thing. So guys were the furthest thing from my mind as long as I had a row dog and the bars were serving long island ice teas for cheap in the hood.
So I was oblivious to the guy across the bar from me who’s been staring since I sat down and who decided to leave at the precise moment that my bestie and I “slow motioned*” our way to the car. Just as I was about to slide into the passenger side seat, I heard something I very rarely hear from the opposite sex trying to holla: “Excuse me gorgeous. Do you mind if I take up a minute of your time?”. Simple? Absolutely. But when your used to hearing “I’m saying tho shorty what’s really good wit’ you???” ANYthing else sounds sexy.
So, I responded in a way I usually don’t. I actually stopped and gave dude an audience. Now, I must admit, he was not my type when I first laid eyes on him. He was big like I like ‘em, but I just wasn’t completely impressed by his face upon first glance. But, I liked his conversation and we exchanged numbers. He called me about an hour later. Now, usually this would have annoyed me, but again, his words had me. . .impressed. He said he’d only called me so soon after getting the number because he’s learned that certain woman believe the man should make the first call (and I do). Then he said that since he’d gotten that out of the way, the next call would have to be initiated by me and if he did not hear back from me he’d take it as a loss and keep it moving. If ever there were a “gotcha bitch” moment, that was his as far as I’m concerned! I called him the next day and we stayed on the phone for hours talking as if we had known each other for years. We had the most interesting and personal conversation I had EVER had with a member of the opposite sex. Talking to him came so easily for me, I really found my self saying things to him that I’d never said to anyone else, nor that I’d allowed myself to think. It just seemed so easy with him. I think it also helped that at that point, I was so “not beat” for the penis-havers that I truly spoke my mind with him. He got “Enigma” from day one, not a representative.
We continued to speak on the phone for the rest of the week and then one day he called and I told him I was at the bar (of course) where we’d met. He told me he was just a few blocks away and that he’d pick me up. He came in with one of his boys and the four of us (I had two girlfriends there with me) had a round. Now, let me take a minute to fill ya’ll in on a lil secret: I had been at the bar for at least an hour before the guys arrived and I had long since threw away that whole “don’t mix liquors” rule. (Remember this. it plays a part in how the night ends up)
Anywho, he and I eventually leave. We get to the car and he tells me that it’s his mother’s. ok, fine. I can deal with that. Once inside I take note of the air freshener around the rear view mirror that says “Princess” and the car seat in the back. Now, during our initial getting-to-know-you convo, he’d told me how he had two chirren by the same woman and that she and he had split after she cheated and he found out. H.S sweetheart gone bad and all that otha stuff. Ok, fine. I wasn’t planning on marrying the dude, so his baggage didn’t bother me. In fact, I’d decided that he would be the lucky guy to benefit from my 6-month drought. Ya girl was HORNY!!!! So much so that as he was talking about what it was about me that made him holla, I cut him and said “Cut the bullshit, you stopped me because you saw me and wanted to smash”. As he sat there with his mouth open trying not to smile at my brazenness, I continued “Ain’t no way you were in that bar, chugging henny and thinking about how interesting you thought my conversation would be. You wanna hit, so don’t bullshit me let’s make it do what it do.” ( I know. . *hangs head in shame* but that’s where I was at the time. I didn’t want to sit and talk about the future or anything, I wanted sex and he was there and did I mention I wanted sex?)
Twenty minutes later we’re in the hotel room making out heavily. He eventually goes down on me and I was excited because he almost it (I had to teach him to swallow during our later meetings) made me cum. At that point, only one guy had ever made me orgasm, no one else had even come close. So I knew that he had potential. I was only further impressed once he put on a condom and we got down to it. ‘Ole boy was blessed and knew what he was doing with it. Good combo. Mama was please. Lol
About 10 minutes into it, he stopped and said he had to use the bathroom. When he came back, he told me how he’d been to the doctor earlier that week and that he’d been having problems keeping it up do to it I can’t remember exactly what it was that he said was wrong, but I remember he said he had to drink lots of cranberry juice and we went back and forth with me asking questions making sure it wasn't an STI..it was more of a urinary thing. Anywho, we laid there talking for a minute just naked, happy and free until . . . . . remember my sidebar before about mixing drinks? Yea, they all turned on me at the same time. I flew to the bathroom and spent the next 10-15 minutes alternating between pooping and throwing up. Gross, I know. Now the kicker is, I am SUCH a girly-girl when it comes to certain thing (burping, farting, etc) and the thought of doing any of those things in front of a guy used to make my left eye twitch and my ass itch just a little, until Mr. Big. I didn’t feel embarrassed about the night’s events at all and he didn’t seem to hold anything against me. We were. . chill, real chill. And vice versa, the whole, “I gotta pee” thing didn’t make me look at him any differently. Somehow I truly believed that he was just having a bad night.
When I came bathroom, I let him know that I wasn't feeling well and that I needed to go home. As we got our stuff together and walked out to the car, I remember thinking, “Mmm, I’ve definitely gotta try him again!” He dropped me and called me twenty minutes later to see if I was feeling any better. (I wasn’t—lesson learned! Lol)
To be continued. . . . .
*I’m not sure why, but for some reason whenever I get drunk, Juvenile’s song Slow Motion is on repeat in my head.
So, in my effort to move on and (hopefully) get this guy out of my system for once and for all (hopefully) *crossing fingers* I figured I need to do what so many do and blog it the fuck out from the beginning. Yep, the entire twisted tale that not even Myspace got the privilege of reading.
*sigh*
Here goes. . . .
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------The Begining of Enigma and Mr. Big: A Series of Unfortunate Events
It had been about six month since Ex-Fiance and I had broken up and I was doing what most would have in my situation: pAAArtying like a rock star!!! Now, prior to this breakup, I had been a fan of the notion that the best way to get over one guy is to get under another one, but this time I was trying the whole “me-time” thing. So guys were the furthest thing from my mind as long as I had a row dog and the bars were serving long island ice teas for cheap in the hood.
So I was oblivious to the guy across the bar from me who’s been staring since I sat down and who decided to leave at the precise moment that my bestie and I “slow motioned*” our way to the car. Just as I was about to slide into the passenger side seat, I heard something I very rarely hear from the opposite sex trying to holla: “Excuse me gorgeous. Do you mind if I take up a minute of your time?”. Simple? Absolutely. But when your used to hearing “I’m saying tho shorty what’s really good wit’ you???” ANYthing else sounds sexy.
So, I responded in a way I usually don’t. I actually stopped and gave dude an audience. Now, I must admit, he was not my type when I first laid eyes on him. He was big like I like ‘em, but I just wasn’t completely impressed by his face upon first glance. But, I liked his conversation and we exchanged numbers. He called me about an hour later. Now, usually this would have annoyed me, but again, his words had me. . .impressed. He said he’d only called me so soon after getting the number because he’s learned that certain woman believe the man should make the first call (and I do). Then he said that since he’d gotten that out of the way, the next call would have to be initiated by me and if he did not hear back from me he’d take it as a loss and keep it moving. If ever there were a “gotcha bitch” moment, that was his as far as I’m concerned! I called him the next day and we stayed on the phone for hours talking as if we had known each other for years. We had the most interesting and personal conversation I had EVER had with a member of the opposite sex. Talking to him came so easily for me, I really found my self saying things to him that I’d never said to anyone else, nor that I’d allowed myself to think. It just seemed so easy with him. I think it also helped that at that point, I was so “not beat” for the penis-havers that I truly spoke my mind with him. He got “Enigma” from day one, not a representative.
We continued to speak on the phone for the rest of the week and then one day he called and I told him I was at the bar (of course) where we’d met. He told me he was just a few blocks away and that he’d pick me up. He came in with one of his boys and the four of us (I had two girlfriends there with me) had a round. Now, let me take a minute to fill ya’ll in on a lil secret: I had been at the bar for at least an hour before the guys arrived and I had long since threw away that whole “don’t mix liquors” rule. (Remember this. it plays a part in how the night ends up)
Anywho, he and I eventually leave. We get to the car and he tells me that it’s his mother’s. ok, fine. I can deal with that. Once inside I take note of the air freshener around the rear view mirror that says “Princess” and the car seat in the back. Now, during our initial getting-to-know-you convo, he’d told me how he had two chirren by the same woman and that she and he had split after she cheated and he found out. H.S sweetheart gone bad and all that otha stuff. Ok, fine. I wasn’t planning on marrying the dude, so his baggage didn’t bother me. In fact, I’d decided that he would be the lucky guy to benefit from my 6-month drought. Ya girl was HORNY!!!! So much so that as he was talking about what it was about me that made him holla, I cut him and said “Cut the bullshit, you stopped me because you saw me and wanted to smash”. As he sat there with his mouth open trying not to smile at my brazenness, I continued “Ain’t no way you were in that bar, chugging henny and thinking about how interesting you thought my conversation would be. You wanna hit, so don’t bullshit me let’s make it do what it do.” ( I know. . *hangs head in shame* but that’s where I was at the time. I didn’t want to sit and talk about the future or anything, I wanted sex and he was there and did I mention I wanted sex?)
Twenty minutes later we’re in the hotel room making out heavily. He eventually goes down on me and I was excited because he almost it (I had to teach him to swallow during our later meetings) made me cum. At that point, only one guy had ever made me orgasm, no one else had even come close. So I knew that he had potential. I was only further impressed once he put on a condom and we got down to it. ‘Ole boy was blessed and knew what he was doing with it. Good combo. Mama was please. Lol
About 10 minutes into it, he stopped and said he had to use the bathroom. When he came back, he told me how he’d been to the doctor earlier that week and that he’d been having problems keeping it up do to it I can’t remember exactly what it was that he said was wrong, but I remember he said he had to drink lots of cranberry juice and we went back and forth with me asking questions making sure it wasn't an STI..it was more of a urinary thing. Anywho, we laid there talking for a minute just naked, happy and free until . . . . . remember my sidebar before about mixing drinks? Yea, they all turned on me at the same time. I flew to the bathroom and spent the next 10-15 minutes alternating between pooping and throwing up. Gross, I know. Now the kicker is, I am SUCH a girly-girl when it comes to certain thing (burping, farting, etc) and the thought of doing any of those things in front of a guy used to make my left eye twitch and my ass itch just a little, until Mr. Big. I didn’t feel embarrassed about the night’s events at all and he didn’t seem to hold anything against me. We were. . chill, real chill. And vice versa, the whole, “I gotta pee” thing didn’t make me look at him any differently. Somehow I truly believed that he was just having a bad night.
When I came bathroom, I let him know that I wasn't feeling well and that I needed to go home. As we got our stuff together and walked out to the car, I remember thinking, “Mmm, I’ve definitely gotta try him again!” He dropped me and called me twenty minutes later to see if I was feeling any better. (I wasn’t—lesson learned! Lol)
To be continued. . . . .
*I’m not sure why, but for some reason whenever I get drunk, Juvenile’s song Slow Motion is on repeat in my head.
2 comments:
Correction, love. . .I did not suck anything (that night anyway) lol
I miss you too, Sis!!!!!!!
Um, where the hell is the 2nd part to this story? lol I'm hooked.
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