IT'S BAD FICTION FRIDAY..!

I remember when I first saw you.  I spotted you as soon as I opened the bistro’s door sitting there, expectantly it seemed to me.  And I also noticed that your eyes sparkled at what was in them, and that was me and my physique, though not quite as athletic as it had once been, it was still cut from the years and years of intense training I had put it through.  

Our first conversation, if you want to call it a “conversation”, was mainly me gushing over you.  My attraction was immediate and permanent, as I could not have dreamed that I would have ever stumble upon someone that looked as attractive as you.  Before that moment, women like you were only seen on the arms or in the company of other men, men who made me question what was it about me that had me single and drifting by myself in a town that was still very new to me.

The meal was a breeze and though hours had passed with my non-stop adoration of you, we went up to my bare bones apartment.  I had only recently completed my first full calendar year in Omaha, and while it had been a ‘near thing’ in getting here, I had begun to finally find my footing, getting a job and into school for that fall.  Everything was falling into place for me, and then there was--

Okay, before I met you, there was the first Big Ten game between Nebraska and Wisconsin in Madison.  I had went out on a date with *Leanne, who was the only person that I could comfortably say that I knew in town.  We had been friends via the internet for very nearly ten years, meeting a couple of times in Chicago before I finally moved to Nebraska.  Though we both had been single, I think we had very different expectations of what my arrival would mean once I had settled in and found my way in town.

I had told her almost from the very start that I wanted to be a part of her life and this included being in a relationship together.  Back when we first met, her worries were understandable… the internet has long been a place where the emotionally vulnerable were at risk, before the movie and television program “Catfish”, and stories like “Talhotblond” were tabloid fodder.  Her reluctance was expected, not only because of security and other reasons kept her from returning her feelings with any enthusiasm, but because I knew and understood the environment.  The reason that internet horror stories about love exist is because sometime good intentions often leads to tragedy, and even though I do not see myself as a threat to anyone, being a single mother does not lend itself to such recklessness.  But once I arrived and my presence in town became a reality, things between us only grew more skittish.  I was never comfortable with her and after a full calendar year, I decided that was no longer interested in being her “boyfriend”, and that she was completely free to go on about her life as she saw fit.

The way our relationship would end was somewhat disappointing, but it was one of the possibilities that were before us.  I did not feel anything towards anyone, not even Leanne, until I met YOU.

As we rode back to my apartment, the clear evening sky with a touch of the chill of fall in its fingers, I could not believe how uncanny my luck, my timing was.  Fresh off of ending things with a fantasy of one type, I was taking a fantasy of another back up to my apartment.

There is a scene in the movie “Waiting To Exhale” where the characters of Loretta Devine and Gregory Hines meet for the first time.  She is walking back, from across the street or the yard, whatever, the key point is that Hines’ character was watching her walk, after he had made a comment about how he liked healthy (or thick) women.  Somewhere between all of that, Ms. Devine certainly fit the bill.  That is how I felt when I let you into my apartment.  This brought to the periphery of concerns that you may have felt that I was “color struck”, with me not being aware of the culture here in town and how the different ethnic groups seem to get along with one another, including inter-racial relations.  See, it wasn’t that you were white that caught my attention… it was that you were (are??) thick that did it for me.

We made small talk before we went into my bedroom and even as it was happening, I was still in a state of disbelief.  As well-versed in my own mythology, what was taking place, the most stunning of all of the women that I had seen easily in years, alone with me and willing to go to bed with me had me feeling like Gary Cooper as Lou Gehrig in the climactic scene in the movie “Pride of the Yankees”, exclaiming that he, “...was the luckiest man alive.”

Getting out of our clothes was a blur of passion for me.  Going down on you was extraordinarily enjoyable, as you responded to my licking and kissing of your wet pussy.  Mounting you was

incredibly satisfying, as the second biggest worry (more on the first later), that I had picked up a girl who couldn’t f*ck was quickly washed away in the fluids from our sex.  Speaking of which…

It had been a long time since I was not only active sexually, but even back “on the stalk” as it were.  I did not know the protocol and while “making it home” was not surprising, neither was it expected.  But I was not the only one letting desire burn away inhibitions, and when you sucked me off, it felt like I was Morpheus in “The Matrix” and that I had indeed found “the one”!

After we were done, walking you back to your car and kissing you good night, I can truly say that I let my heart go and had hoped beyond hope that I was really as lucky as I believe I am.  I knew that I had found “Her”, the one above all others, and I was going to fall in lifelong love with you...