Now, I know it’s been a while since I’ve been on here admitting to something I’ve done that’s really dumb but I think it’s time I told you a little story. After all, I fear if I don’t purge some of this verbal diarrhea it could lower my immune system and I’m not looking to catch no Corona!
I awoke last Monday morning a little delirious and very hung over. As I opened my eyes, the realization hit me, I wasn’t in my bed. Actually I wasn’t even in my room. I had been taking this lock down thing very seriously and hadn’t been out of my apartment for anything more than groceries in over a month. So waking up in his apartment was a bit of a shock.
Now I must admit, there was nowhere else I would have rather been. In that moment I felt like I was dreaming, but instead of going back to sleep, I reached over to his night stand and took a hit off my weed pen.
That’s when it happened, he grabbed my hand and put it onto his giant erection. I began stroking it, and for the first time in our entire relationship, he pulled me on top of him for morning sex!
I would like to give you the details of this encounter, but I can’t because they are sacred to me. That’s right! I finally met someone I have been more obsessed with than my sweet little Donut!
Let me introduce you all to Prince Charming. Now I have to be honest here. From the beginning I picked up on The Prince’s narcissistic traits. The red flags were all there from a few weeks in. I’ll tell you more about that later. But maybe that’s why I fell so hard for this guy. I like a challenge and I’m addicted to the abuse.
Stop judging me! Anyway, back to my story…
I spent the evening before, quarantining with my best bud Bubble. Like me, her dickhead boyfriend had abandoned her in the midst of the Covid 19 epidemic and so she had been spending the majority of her nights home alone, binge drinking, depressed and on the brink of suicide.
We were a few
bottles boxes of cheap wine in, when I received a notification of a text message.
“Who’s texting you?” Bubble wanted to know.
“The Prince, who else?” I replied.
“That’s not fair! At least he’s texting you! Mine won’t even return my calls!” Bubble whined.
I opened the message.
“What are you doing? Hanging out with Bubble again?” he accused.
“I was, but she just left.” I lied.
“No she didn’t! She is still there, you are such a fucking liar!”
“She was here. She just left,” I asserted.
“Hey Bubble, I told him you left but he didn’t believe me,” I giggled to my friend.
Why did I lie? You ask… I don’t really know to be honest (pun not intended). I was buzzed, bored and tired of giving a shit about what The Prince thought of me anyway.
The Prince was on a mission to prove me wrong. He had been playing games with me for the last few weeks. After spending six months in jail and having me as his only connection to the outside world, he spent a month living in my apartment. When he sensed he was losing control over me, he made a bold move to storm out in the middle of the night intoxicated. He had been living in hotels, waiting for me to beg him to return. But I hadn’t.
Another text came in.
“Bubble looks like a goddamn guinea pig,” he reminded me. This had been his “go to” of insults for her lately. Though there were others, like “bitch” and “whore”. I’m pretty sure The Prince would hate anyone he thought was diverting any of my attention away from him. The reason he left stemmed from an incident involving a phone call I had with Bubble, so her being over was driving the knife further into his wound.
When The Prince’s
false demeanor changed, I’d refer to him as Dirty John, or DJ for short.
I texted him a photo of a fat little guinea pig eating grass along with a laughing emoji.
“That’s right! Haha! I fucking miss you so much! I wish you were here. I just got into a place today, I want to sleep next to you. If she wasn’t there I would invite you to come see me,” he said.
“I already told you she’s not here.”
“If she isn’t there then prove it! I’m going to call you.”
“Okay.” I agreed.
“I’m going to call, and I want you to scream as loud as you can, ‘Bubble is a fucking guinea pig!'”
“Wtf? What is wrong with you?” I asked.
“It’s because she is there! I knew it!”
“I have a child here sleeping and I have neighbors on lock down. I’m not going to scream in the middle of the night. I can ask her for a screen shot of her Lyft ride if you want.”
I looked over to Bubble, “Dude, he’s fucking nuts. He wants to call me, to hear me scream that you are a guinea pig.”
“What the hell?” she asked. “He thinks I’m a guinea pig? Why does he think I’m a guinea pig? Do I look like a guinea pig?”
“No Bubble, you are beautiful. He is just nuts. I think he’s trying to manipulate me back into his control. He’s jealous of you and he needs my attention. He wants me to come over.”
“Then tell him to send you a Lyft.”
“Should I? If I go you would have to stay over and babysit. He wouldn’t send one anyway. He just wants to fuck with me. He’s been flaking on me since he left,” I concluded.
“Tell him to send it, see if he does.”
I looked back to my phone. “Do you really want me to come over? If you send me a Lyft and bring me back home in the morning, I will.”
“What about your kid?” he asked.
“I’ll figure it out.”
Ten minutes later, a car arrived.
I was in my pajamas and without having a mask, I had no choice but to wrap my hair and face up inside a black scarf. I looked like a fucking Muslim woman. The Prince’s face lit up when he saw me. I don’t think it was because I was there, but because of the scarf. Did I mention he’s Muslim?
Yup! There I was, back in his control, looking like a bitch from his country. Only with blue eyes. His favorite thing about me. As it certainly wasn’t my personality.
How do I know for sure? Oh! He told me 😉
There I was, late at night, walking into the lion’s den wearing my wine stained pajamas. I was so excited!
The Prince showed me around his new digs. I think he was trying to rub it in my face that he didn’t need me anymore. But I didn’t fall for it, and told him how happy I was for him, and how nice the monthly rental studio was. Honestly, I was happy for him. I had worried so much about him all those months he spent in jail. Still it would have been nice if he wouldn’t have bailed out before helping me pay my rent.
He pulled out a bottle of my favorite wine and poured me some in one of the new glasses he had just purchased, and then he poured on the charm!!! The prince can be really funny when he wants to be.
He started to ask me what happened with Bubble and I told him that he didn’t want to know the story, he’d be disgusted by it and left it as that, then I changed the subject.
“Oh my gawd! You shouldn’t have a space heater on the carpet, and so close to the bed! That could cause a fire!” I lectured.
“I don’t give a fuck! I don’t own this place! Let it burn to the ground!” he said with a chuckle. “I don’t. Fucking. Care!”
“You will care when you wake up on fire! Oh no! I’m moving it!” I reached down and unplugged it, relocating it to the tiled hallway. I sat on a stool at his tall kitchen table and placed my wine down. The liquid started to sway.
The Prince put on some of his favorite foreign thug music, and let it play loudly through his phone’s speaker, then had a change of thought, and instead put on a band he knew I liked. He started singing to me. Even though his thick accent could sometimes make him sound a bit retarded, I found it sexy as fuck!
Hey man, learning another language is hard, I give him props! Plus he had been a lot easier to understand since getting out of the big house. I mean there’s no better time to brush up on your English skills! Am I right?
“This table is really wobbly, let me fix it.” I reached over and grabbed a piece of cardboard torn from a cigarette pack. I started to fold it, but before I could finish, he had swiped it out of my hand.
“Put it under this corner, by me,” I instructed.
“I know what I’m doing, Asterisk,” he insisted.
Instead of placing it where I had suggested, I watched him tuck it under the opposite corner. When he was done, he sat down, looking proud and accomplished. The table was now at a slant and I was worried the wine would spill out of my glass. I watched as the majority of the items on the table all began to slide towards me. I stood up.
“Look honey,” I said gently, “This corner under me is missing it’s pad.” I removed the cardboard and placed it on my side. “See? The other three sides have a white pad, but there isn’t one here.”
I could see the rage building in his eyes from being out smarted by a girl, yet he kept it under control. Or maybe it was because of what happened next he felt we were even.
“Can I use your restroom?” I asked.
He pointed down the hall.
I stood up and was a bit wobbly myself, after catching my balance, I had forgotten about the relocation of the space heater. That’s when I did it. Yup! I bumped right into that son of a bitch dead on, with my leg.
I squealed out in pain. I probably sounded like a wounded guinea pig! I looked down to my leg to inspect my injury. I had been honeycombed!
The prince put his hand over his mouth, covering up a smile and feigned concern as I proceeded to the potty.
I had just finished wiping myself when he joined me in the bathroom and began removing his clothes. “I’m going to take a shower.”
At least that’s what I think he said. I mean I could really only understand half of what came out of his mouth anyway. But damn could I read his body language!
“Can I join you?” I pretty much begged.
So by now, you are probably wondering what I saw in this guy, right? Well there it was, right… fucking… there! He was hot, seriously. Firm body, ass that makes you cry (I called it his onion), and the curliest eyelashes I’ve ever seen. And his skin was perfect. There was more than a decade of difference between our ages, but as you already know… I’m extremely immature. It was a match made in
Plus he was hung like a horse.
I jumped into that shower faster than a porpoise being freed from Sea World.
Now I would love to tell you the details of what we did, but I am a lady and I don’t talk about such things! Plus, I was really drunk. It’s kind of a blur.
Let’s fast forward… I already mentioned what had happily transpired after I awoke (giggle), but I didn’t finish telling you about the rest of that day.
After the shower sex and the morning romp with my beloved, I checked in on Bubble. She was still doing okay and wasn’t in a big rush to get back to being home alone, so I went back to sleep.
I awoke again in the early afternoon next to my sweet Lord Donkey Junk. I rolled up close to him and he cuddled me for a while, kissing me with his giant soft lips. I was still in heaven. Well, until he asked…
“How did you get that bruise on your cheek?”
Suddenly I was back in reality. “It’s an age spot. I’m old,” I reminded him.
“No, you aren’t. Look, I have them on my shoulders.” He could be so sweet when he wanted to be.
“Do you want to go for some coffee?” he asked.
“Yes, I should probably get home. I have responsibilities.” Reluctantly, I pulled my sappy ass out of his bed and threw some powder over my aging face.
We loaded into his car, and within seconds were were at a drive thru. “What do you want?” he asked. I looked over the menu. “A chai Latte.” It was so cute hearing him try to pronounce my order through the speaker box with his accent.
As we waited, I noticed the outside of the building was covered in stickers. I reached into my bag and handed him one promoting my website. “Here,” I said, “Will you put this on there?”
He took it from my hand and looked at it a bit confused. “If I put it there, it will just fall off.”
I giggled, “Let me see.” He handed it back and I started to remove the sticky backing.
“I got it, I got it!” he grabbed it from my hand, his eyes now a bit blackened.
I watched as he opened his car door, “Where shall I put it?”
Noting a few empty spots on one of the walls, I simply said, “Anywhere.”
Inside I grimaced, as I watched him place it over someone else’s sticker.
As we pulled away with our order on my lap he said to me, “I come here for coffee every morning. Now I will see that and have to think of you.” After taking a breath, he looked deep into my eyes with an evil glare, “Don’t think for a second that I’ll forget about you sending me that screen shot.”
That was the last time I saw him. Well, The Prince anyway. I saw (his other side) Dirty John once after that.
But alas… That’s another story.
Please leave a comment below, to encourage me to keep writing.
If you like what you just read, You WILL want to read my latest book about my transgender ex girlfriend… TRUST ME!!! Go buy it! BUY ME (It’s on SALE) It will make your quarantine more tolerable and I can’t think of a better way for you to spend that stimulus check 😉 Can you?!?!?!? Lie to me God damn it!!!