TOUCH ME IN A DARK PLACE

I honestly think I’m addicted to first dates. Good or bad they’ve always provided me with the adventure and human interaction I probably subconsciously crave. First dates are like mini Christmases. You see that shiny packaging with that big ass bow and you can’t wait to rip all that shit off just to see what you got. Regardless if what’s in the box is something you’ve always wanted or some shit you know you’re just going to give away to someone else as a gift, nothing compares to the feeling of anticipation you experience just prior to opening that box.

A friend of mine told me recently that I get bored easily and that I need that constant stimulation. There’s probably some truth in that. But I can be content and settled. Hell, I’ve been in some pretty long-term relationships, but it seems that as soon as I get out of one though – I go nucking futz with the dating.

Coming out of my last multi-year relationship, I wanted to get back into the dating game as quickly and easily as possible, so I resorted to an old friend – the Internet. I descended upon Black Planet like a hawk on a chicken coop. Make that a chickenhead coop (lol). I began corresponding with this 25-year old morsel in Michigan. By the second note, she had forwarded me her phone number and urged me to call her. It was an uneventfully Friday night, but it was already late, so I had already reserved myself to just a reconnaissance phone call. There would be no “mission” that night.

Whenever I meet a woman online and I call her for the first time, I like to have her photo on my monitor, so that I can remind myself of why I was calling in the first place. So I made sure to have her BP page front and center. Looking at her pictures, this young lady appeared to be voluptuous in her build. But that’s cool. I do voluptuous. I actually hold an undisputed belt in that weight class (lol). Besides she looked very cute in her pictures. There was even a link to some additional flicks, so I felt compelled to peep ‘em. There was nothing naughty to see, but it did give me some different full body glimpses of her and a chance to see her in multiply outfits. She seemed kinda fashionable. So it was a wrap, shawty was getting a call from the kid.

On the phone, she sounded like a little girl; meaning she had one of those very kid-like voices. She was very enthusiastic about receiving my call and asked all the getting to know you questions. Everything I was saying was on point as far as she was concerned. Somewhere during the convo, I had told her that I didn’t have a bed yet (I slept on a futon) but that I was buying one the following day. Then she said, “Damn that’s cool. That means that I get to be the first to break it in.” Whoa.

I heard what she said, but I let it slide. I mean, I was diggin’ her enthusiasm and her whole on-the-phone swagger, but I don’t talk sex on the phone or during the first conversation. So she was unsuccessful at baiting me with that one. However, I did file that little gem away for a later time. I too was thinking smash time, but she ain’t have to know that. I told the cutie that I would come visit her the next day and we could get together to do something together. She was excited about us hooking up, so I ended the conversation on that good note.

The next day, I spoke with her and it was agreed that I would come see her in Ypsilanti {Ip-see-lan-tee), Michigan, which is about 45 minutes from Detroit. She stayed in Ypsi (as the locals called it) in a subleted apartment with a roommate. Just as an aside: Black folk in Detroit are funny. They are so geographically challenged. Later I would share with someone that I knew folks in Ypsi and had visited there a few times and you woulda thought I told them I visited the moon. People in “tha D” have tendency to confine themselves to a particular area they’re familiar with and extensive travel is frowned upon.

I got myself dapper for my soon to be encounter. Clean shaven and showered, I decided to roll in my black Michael Vick Falcon’s jersey and matching baseball cap. To complete the look, all black Tommy shorts and black Nike ankle socks. The color scheme of hook-up gave me an opportunity to break out the crispy throwback 1988 red, white and black Jordans. I splashed on the Calvin Klein Escape for men and took a look at myself in the mirror – proper. ;o) I was ready to get a lil nipsy in Ypsi.

I took a couple of Coronas for the trip. Shit, 45 minutes that was perfect down time for drinking. I got to her spot and was actually a little nervous. I’m normally very confident in these type situations. Especially, when I got my “game face” on. I composed myself and knocked on the door. A friend of hers answered the door and let me in. As I took my seat on the couch, I could feel her checking me out. I suppose her girl was given the mission to check me out thoroughly and send word to the back room that it was cool to make an entrance. I guess I passed inspection. Her friend went back to the bedroom to go get her.

My date for the evening comes out the room and the first thing I see (and trust me it was hard to notice anything else) – MAD CLEAVAGE! And she had some major melons happening, so the sleeveless top cleavage was on front street like whoa – I am here look at me. I have to put this into the proper perspective; because I don’t think I’m giving them justice, but her breasts were soooooo big they could provide shade for a small African village. I was entranced.

I worked my way down the rest of her outfit. She stood about 5’7 or 5’8” in the heels she was sporting. And then there was the mini skirt. That was some skirt indeed. It barely stopped at her “happy zone”. Shit, one good bend over to retrieve a dropped donut and all the world would get to see her goodies. How could I not think about anything other than fucking? We were talking major advertising going on here.

As I looked at her, I couldn’t help but think about a joke Dave Chappell said during one of his stand up routines. “Ok just because you’re dressed like that it doesn’t mean that I should treat you like a hooker. But on the other had you are wearing a hooker’s costume.”

We opted to go see a movie – Batman Begins. Yeah I know it goes against all my first date rules, but I wanted to get her out of the public eye and someplace dark. Given her voluptuousness and her attire, she was gonna draw far too much attention to the kid. Way too many people were giving us second and sometime triple looks. I prefer to handle my biz on the low – In-cog-Negro you could say. Other than the attention issue, I had something else to be concerned about. At some point I was going to have to feed her. And she looked like she could put it away, so I was pre-strategizing the dinner move.

Prior to going in the movies, she suggested that we stop to get our snacks ahead of time. She said the prices were crazy in the theater and it would come out cheaper just to bring our own snacks. I liked the way she thought. My frugal ass was definitely with that move. With smuggled snacks in tow we took a seat in the theater near the top away from the bulk of the other moviegoers. Then some miscellaneous brawd, who was dateless, came and sat directly behind us. WTF, I thought to myself. The movie came on, so I stop paying attention to her.

I was really into the movie much to the dissatisfaction of my date. Apparently I wasn’t paying enough attention to her and her baby melons. As I watched the movie, she took my hand and placed it slyly under her mini skirt. Low and behold, someone wasn’t wearing panties. And judging by the cool dampness now coating my hand, she was extremely aroused for some reason. I don’t question shit like that – besides never look a gift horse in mouth (whatever the fuck that means). She began moving my hand back and forth on her, now moistened, kitty. Taking her cue, I inserted several fingers and began stimulating her. I looked behind me to see what was happening with the chick sitting behind us and sure enough she was peepin’ our action. I coulda swore she was actually getting off watching.

I had to calm her down a bit, because I actually wanted to see the movie. It was actually pretty good. After the movie let out, neither one of spoke of what happened. Suddenly the talk turned to food. She was hungry. It was at that point that I recognized her gansta. Give him a preview of what he could be getting if he played his cards right and then let on that you want dinner. Very suave of her for a young girl. The shit worked, because I ended up at Olive Garden en route to her house. We actually both got what we wanted out of it. She got her Olive Garden dinner, but I got to order it to go, so that we could eat it back at her place.

Back at her place we ate our dinners and talked some more.

Melon Girl: Thanks for stoppin’ to get something to eat at my favorite place.

Serial Dater: No problem. I was hungry anyway and I like Olive Garden too.

Melon Girl: Did you like my little surprise in the movies?

Serial Dater: {me thinking a blow job woulda been better than giving her a hand job but playing it cool} No doubt. That shit was on point. I liked that.

Melon Girl: I thought you would {pause} Have I shown you my pictures?

Serial Dater: You mean the ones on the link on your page?

Melon Girl: No these are some private photos taken for a web site I was going to be a part of.

Bingo!

As I’ve said before, the majority of women I know or come across have or have had naughty pics taken of themselves. Whether it’s some “kitty” pictures on your cellie or a professional spread of you buckey neckkid, those private photos exist. After expressing my interest in wanting to see the photos, she showed me a number of provocative pics on her computer hard drive. I’m talkin’ everything from breast shots to masturbation shots. I think I actually drooled while looking at the photos, but I played it very cool. I didn’t even mention sex after seeing the photos. I think I said something corny like, “those are nice.”

I think now would be a good time to mention that this girl is a PK. For the uninformed, PK stands for Preacher’s Kid. I swear, I’ve been involved with about four PKs in my life and every last one of them has been a stone cold freak. I don’t know why that is so, but the PKs be off the fuckin chain with their sexuality. This girl was no different.

After we ate, she asked me if I wanted to watch a movie in her room. I was definitely with that move. She put on a movie that had just come out on DVD at the time. It was some bizarre psychotic horror flick, but the title escapes me. She didn’t have any chairs in her room or a bed for that matter, just a queen-sized air mattress on the floor. Laying on an air mattress is not a comfortable thing. But I tried to make do. Somewhere in the middle of watching the movie, I started kissing her and tasting those melons of hers. As far as I was concerned sex is the only way to follow up a good meal. Besides, she practically gave me a coochie coupon with that lil episode in the movies. A nigga was straight cashin’ it in. ;o)

I started unbuttoning my pants and she hit me with the stop sign. I was like WTF.

Serial Dater: Whazzup. You don’t want me?

Melon Girl: Yes I want you, but it’s our first date and I just don’t wanna…..you know.

* This type of shit actually kills me. What part of the game is this? Why do we feel this need to set up a timetable on our lust? It doesn’t matter when I get the panties, if I don’t wanna call you again, I won’t. So it’s best to just go for it and get yours.

Serial Dater: It’s all good, we both grown here. You’re attracted to me and I’m attracted to you, so I don’t see anything wrong with this luv.

Melon Girl: I just don’t want to give it up on the first date.

Serial Dater: I don’t see why you tryna holdout. You only doing yourself a disservice with that move.

Melon Girl: I know but I just want to wait.

Serial Dater: You know it would feel good right. You need to just let go.

I couldn’t believe that I couldn’t close this one out. I was getting desperate and began reaching for straws.

Serial Dater: Aiiight, check this out. What if I just put the tip in?

WTF!!!!

There, I actually said it. All my life, I had wondered what type of lame ass nigga actually said that shit to women. “Let me put the tip in.” WTF kinda high school shit is that. And what point does it serve. It just seems like one great big tease and a waste of time and taxpayers dollars.

Melon Girl: Okay, if you got a condom, you can just put the tip in. But don’t move or stick it all the way in.

Would you believe that shit actually worked? I now understand why niggas be saying that stupid shit. Desperate times call for desperate measure. The tip it is then.

I pulled my shorts down, put on a condom and put it in quickly before she could have second thoughts. That tip shit lasted all of two seconds, cause I was straight stroking after that (Word to Clarence Carter) ;o) I heard her whisper in my ear, “You’re bad, you were only supposed to put the tip in and not move it.” I told her I wasn’t moving it, but rather it was moving on its own. Lol

After awhile she started to get into it as evident by her moans. The thing about chicks on the voluptuous side of things, they have a tendency to be very wet. I was on the tip of eruption from the moment I put the tip in. I was tryna hold out till she got off and at one point I thought she was about to let “it” go. So I just let it go too. Game over. But I had made a miscalculation; she had not gotten hers and really wanted to do so. I told her that the clip was empty and it would be another 30 minutes for me to reload. She was not trying to hear it as she writhed in horny-ness on the air mattress. “I wanna cum too,” she said in her pouty little girl voice. “Here take this,” she said and handed me a vibrator. Whoa.

Normally, I woulda told her to handle that shit herself, but I felt responsible for that whole “putting the tip in” thing. So I took the vibrator and got her off with it. After that, I got dressed and headed back to “tha D.”

Another first date in the books.