“I hope that you’re the one
If not, you are the prototype . . .
I think I’m in looooooovvvve, again.”
—- “Prototype” Andre 300
I dated this guy a while back who was amazing! Tall, fine, chocolate, educated, a pharmaceutical salesmen (not like Pookie the Dopeman), gorgeous home, good father, smelled good, etc. This list can go on and on ya’ll. He never pressured me for s3x, we would just kiss (my favorite thing to do!) and he loved to cuddle up with me while he watched football. I can’t even say how long we dated, I was Swwaanngin’, like Mint Condition. If he wasn’t the one, he was the prototype.
He told me he’d been engaged at one time, but would never divulge the details…. [Bullsh!t detector [worksite: Comeback] beeps slow and steady here]
Then one day, this man disappeared. I don’t know what happened. He sent me a text two months later and said he had something to tell me. He called and told me that he’d gotten back with his fiancé. I didn’t flip out. Cool, I kept it moving. A couple of weeks later, “they were no longer together.” [Bullsh!t detector starts beeping faster here and I ignored it]
I ended up at his house after asking for a massage because I was stressed. I’d been grilled by a three woman panel for an interview at my job for a better position. When I walked in, I noticed there was a picture of the chick in the living room. When I asked him why it was up if they were no longer together, he said, “it’s the only picture I have of myself.” [Bullsh!t detector goes off like a smoke alarm, but I put on ear plugs!] (stooooppppid!)
I walked back to the bedroom, where he’d lit a candle and had jazz music playing. I removed my clothes and he gave me a towel to cover up if I wasn’t comfortable. I declined the towel, told him I was cool with nakedness (ain’t I smooth? LOL).
He commenced to giving me the most professional, yet sensual massage I’d ever received. I’m serious, none of that funny rubbing close enough in between your thighs where the skin gets baby bottom soft, causing your throat to tighten and pulse to quicken. He didn’t try me. Ha! I jumped on him. (hell, I was already naked??!) He gave me the nicest slow love I’d ever had, while we panted things I won’t reprint into each other’s ears.
The next day, I was sore as hell… I don’t know if it was from the massage or from his slow grind.
About a month later, one of my coworkers was to be in her best friend’s wedding. She showed me pics of the bride and her groom. Imagine my shock when it was my tall, dark, and chocolate masseuse. I was so lady; I smiled and said what a beautiful couple they were and walked away.
Note to self: DON’T IGNORE THE DETECTOR!
Okay, that was my lesson learned… what about you? Got any to share with the class?