6-18-18 - Welcome to the Jungle!
Last week I was wondering through the figurative dating jungle as I was being stalked by the multiple man tigers currently in my phone’s immediate text and call history. As I said before, I’m transitioning out of club life. At least, I thought I was in the process of transitioning out until tonight.
I’d allowed Hunk to talk me up all day last Friday, and so, I ended up going to the club with him. We got to the club around 11:30 ish, and met one of his homies and his girl there. Liquor flowed like water and passed through his hands to mine all night. At first I was reluctant due to the hang over I’d had all day, but Hunk was deliciously flirtatious, and persuasive; so I obliged him. Of course, I knew in the back of my mind that it wasn’t for nothing. I knew I’d be expected to pay the price that night by doing “something” intimate with him. It was tempting considering how delicious he looked tonight. He was definitely eye candy and had caught the eye of several women in the club. It was just that… I didn’t know if I could ever let him live that teeth clanging kiss down from the night before. Ick! But as I’d made sure to note last night, homie was packing down there and there was “something” that I found alluring about him; else I wouldn’t be here right now. I wasn’t sure if it was enough of a spark to make things last between us at the moment though. Chemistry was a bitch like that sometimes. The outwardly prim and perfect guy who was totally into you could be standing before you, but you could still feel nothing intimate for him. “Say la vie.” At least Hunk had the good sense to know pussy wasn’t free; cause he was sure spending the big bucks tonight on my drinks. To hopefully land some nookie from this cookie tonight as most online daters did. Or was it that he was doing this because it was how he kept girls around due to his poor kissing abilities? I thought inwardly.
Stick to the plan cookie! I told myself. No nookie tonight… no matter how fine you think the man is in your liquored-up state. He’s still gonna have to wait if he wants it because hommie needed to learn to kiss properly first. That was why tonight, I would be implementing strategy number one in teaching hung Hunk how to kiss to my standards for the goodness of all womankind. Hmmmm 🤔…., I figured someone as fine as him should at least get three chances to get with the kissing program before being scratched off my dating list. I knew men were stubborn, egotistical beings, and sexual prowess shit always had to be handled with kid gloves. That was why I wasn’t optimistic about improving his kissing abilities, but that glimpse last night in the car of his dick 🍆was sure motivating me to give him a few tries. After last night’s failures with Charmer, I was inclined to jump Hunk tonight, but that wouldn’t be very lady like of me now would it? Despite how much money Hunk was throwing around to keep me happily liquored up tonight, I would bite the bullet to wait for White Chocolate tomorrow. Patience was a virtue after all.
Hunk and I hit the dance floor, then the hooka bar. We ordered purple haze mixed with grape 🍇and laced with Vanilla Crown. I was surprised to find I liked the combo. It was about 12:30 a.m., and I was just feeling the buzzing high outside on the patio with the hot summer night’s breeze kissing my skin in 3rd ward Houston; when I saw him through the haze of my purple haze flavored hooka. Some bitch, and I mean BITCH! Was on his arm. I straightened and passed the hooka over to Hunk casually. I watched him as he was about to enter the club V.I.P. (the ass). He was dressed to the nine, and I hated to say it, but the chick was HOT in the banging body type of way. I knew I was cute, even pretty, but my thirties had made me lose a lot of the natural firmness in the body department that I took for granted in my twenties. This club was popular for upper twenties to mid-thirty dwellers; most of which didn’t have a body like this chick. She was obviously his date, and she looked like she was in the gym twenty-four seven. I mean, there was no damned fat anywhere on her body, and her skin tight feuscha spandex dress accentuated every toned contour. Her 3-5 bundles of Peruvian jerry curl virgin hair was weaved all down her back, and graced her perfectly 🍑 heart shaped ass in that skin tight dress. You know the type. Her make-up was on flek, and she was definitely a show stopper as all the men seemed to momentarily glance her way. Charmer glanced around before they entered the club, and pathetically, I grabbed my drink and turned my face away, pretending to assess the ice cubes in it as I drank deep and used the cup to partially hide my face and eyes. Charmer entered the club without noticing me, and I breathed a sigh of relief even as I stared after them with inner rage. Thank goodness we’d sat a good distance away from the entrance. I set my halfway melted and watered down vodka drink down. Guess I’d be cutting ties with him for good now. 😫. Competition was a literal bitch right now, and I was definitely feeling genuinely inadequate. Instead of focusing on how sorry of a ninja Charmer was, I focused on the hot chick he’d came into the club with. Supper petty I know, but I just couldn’t understand how the fuck the bitch had the time had to achieve such fake perfection. No wonder Charmer’s ass had been too caught up to come over last night. He was probably spending the night with this bitch with the stripper body.
I wasn’t a gym rat, I didn’t even do weave; I didn’t do fake nails, and although I wore makeup, I didn’t go overboard to the point where I looked too plastic, or transformed into someone fake as hell. However, in this surreal moment, I couldn’t help but wonder, was that what men truly wanted? Had men completely lost touch with what a real woman was, what she looked like, or what she was about in 2018? I had to believe that not all men had or I would fucking give up on love and finding Mr. Right altogether. The hooka was passed to me again, and I welcomed the sinful indulgence. I was a nervous wreck right now. Hunk nuzzled up to me and smiled sexily over at me and I turned my attentions to him. Hunk was actually much cuter than Charmer, so I didn’t know why the hell I was sweating Charmer’s seeming betrayal anyways. Obviously, Hunk had more sense than Charmer did because Duh! he was sitting here with me. But I couldn’t deny that it still stung to see someone I was involved with walk in with another chick.
Thirty minutes later, when the betrayal feeling dissipated a little, I had to acknowledge that I was sitting here doing the same damned shit Charmer was doing. Instead of chastising myself for being a hypocrite though, I thought, at least I’m not sitting here thinking, “I shoulda cheated” like Keyshia Cole. In fact, if I was the vain type, I should definitely write up a post of my current dilemma and put it on Instagram with #WINNING on it. But that was immature. So, instead, I decided I had to be a bad bitch and get over shit right this instant. My remedy was this: since I’d had the good fortune of going unnoticed by Charmer, I needed to capitalize on things by using my competitive college athlete nature to ensure Charmer saw me with the hottie sitting right next to me! 😈 Childish, I know, but that’s life in the dating world jungle. Besides, alcohol and hooka were now in the mix, so my higher faculties were shot to hell and back and in its place was ignorance in the purest of forms. 😁. I waited for the trap music to come on, and the hooka to be finished before I swept Hunk onto the dance floor with me again. We got down, and I was in full Snookie slut mode as I grinded against him using all my sexiest moves. Thank god I’d worn the high wasted sexy black pleather mini skirt that gave me tummy control along with the crop top that only showed a hint of tummy with my stiletto heels. The overall effect was a sluttier looking secretary 😂.
I got a few appreciative glances from others as I grooved, and I momentarily locked eyes with another cutie in the room. I smiled politely as I continued to grind on Hunk. That’s right Snook, if your sexy and you know it clap your hands. I thought as I inwardly smirk and danced to the trap. The D.J. made an incompetent song choice, so we took a much needed (I’m thirty and need to rest and hydrate) break and went to the bar. Hunk ordered me another drink and excused himself to use the men’s room. The cutie came over with a friend, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Charmer with the bitch with the gym rat body. I saw him see me, but I ignored him and focused on the cutie as the bar tender brought my drink. Cutie struck up a conversation with me, but although I thought he was cute, I knew I was here with someone else, so I kept things light. Hunk came back and the Drake song where he talks about seeing his ex-girl, with his next girl, standing with the girl that he’s f’ing right now rattled around in my head. *Inward intoxicated head shake*. I ceased conversation with the cutie and composed myself for Hunk so he wouldn’t thing anything was up. It’s getting too hot and wild in this jungle Snook. I thought mockingly. I backed into Hunk in a way that would signify to Cutie I was here with someone. I wondered what Charmer was making of all this, so before Hunk and I left the bar, I risked a discrete glance his way as I sipped my fresh drink. Our eyes locked, and I knew he saw the daggers in my eyes in the brief glance I’d given him across the bar. I hoped that with my eyes I said to him, “yea I saw you, you sorry motha f’er.”
Then, as we walked away, I suddenly wished I could reach up and kiss Hunk, but that would be going over board, and it wasn’t considered tactful to make out in the club unless it was New Year’s or something equally celebratory. Besides, I already knew Hunk couldn’t kiss worth a damned 😑, and things would end up biting me in the ass if I tried.
Later on, in the car outside my house after the club, it was time to pay the piper for all the drinks Hunk had bought me. Seeing no other way to make Hunk learn to kiss, I bit him on the tongue. He pulled back and said, “ouch.” Sexily I felt on his chest, then slid my hand down to stroke his shaft through his pants and said, in a throaty, panting voice, “let me show you how I like to be kissed.” He blinked once, then twice, then his eyebrows rose as he said, “ok” like he was uncertain of what I was talking about. Slowly, reverently, as if we had all the time in the world. I grabbed his face with both hands so I had more control of things. Hunk wore his hair cropped close, and it was slightly curly in a boyish Hawaiian silky ad type of way. I took advantage and slid my hands into his curls. He seemed to follow my lead. Good. I explored him and schooled him on how I liked to kiss, and by the end, I felt I’d made some progress. I hoped the tutorial was a success, and that the lesson had stuck. We exchanged a few grabs and feels, but in the end I left him; turning down his requests to come inside my apartment for more. Thank goodness he’d responded to my tutorials. I thought drunkenly. That way I’d be able to call upon his kissing abilities in the future just in case I was ever in a similar situation like I’d been in tonight, and decided to be foolish by making out in public to make someone jealous.
I glanced at my phone 📱as I tumbled into bed texting Hunk that I’d made it safely to my apartment whilst declining his offer to hang out on Saturday. 🤥 I had high hopes of White Chocolate putting out the fire that had started on Thursday and gotten bigger tonight in the club with Hunk and Charmer. That cutie pie from the bar flitted through my mind briefly. Too bad I hadn’t gotten his number. He’d be a good replacement for Charmer’s stupid ass. 😩 Forget him!!!I told myself; forcing my thoughts to return to White Chocolate, and what I’d decided we’d be doing tomorrow. 🤗 Charmer had blown my phone up with texts and even a super rare (for him) phone call. I ignored all, and force myself to be a tough cookie instead of a soft one. Tonight, it had been so hot in the Houston dating jungle. Almost too HOT for a bad ass like me. But I’d handled it, and tomorrow I’d reap the rewards by adding white chocolate chips to my cookie. I stared at my ceiling, fantasizing about all the incredibly hot and sexy shit I’d ever done with White Chocolate, and as I lay on my bed considering all that we had done, and how I wanted things to go tomorrow, I grew flustered and considered reaching for my vibrator AGAIN. It would only be fitting, since there was no dude from within my hot dating jungle to call upon without slut label repercussions. Typical! I though darkly; and as my mind turned back to my fevered fantasy of White Chocolate, I laughed out loud, realizing I currently seemed to be suffering from a case of what many called jungle fever…, Ironic ain’t it ladies?