A Bittersweet Destruction….

So as me and Jo were getting on each others nerves, I tried to make more “girl time” between my friends and I. We went to this local bar that held a dj, cheap drinks, fine looking men and women, great friends, good conversation, and the occasional interesting bar fight which exposed girls tits now and again.  There was never a dull moment at this place, and there was always an after party to follow, with plenty of booze and cocaine for everyone. It was only a matter of time before someone caught my eye. Now, I wish he hadn’t because he was trouble from day one when I heard the word “Vegas” come out of his mouth…lol!  A friend of mine knew this guy…. we’ll call him “Carl”.  Carl was a smooth talker, but too arrogant for me to tolerate. However, he was full of adventure, so I thought, that drew me to him. Yeah, I still had my own scenario that was dwindling down which I discussed in my prior post, but I had no idea where I stood with that, so it was pretty much free game. It was like teenage years all over again. Endless nights on the phone with countless hours of conversation. Debating back and forth between baseball teams, the latest trends, the dating scene, all while counting the minutes until he had to leave for work at 5 a.m.  How could I possibly resist this? Here’s a complete stranger that thinks I’m important enough to sacrifice his own sleep just to talk about bullshit. We definitely had a connection. He was from a troubled family, and I had thought he had a lot to offer since not only did he have his own vehicle and I wouldn’t have to transport him back and forth to his job, and he actually HAD a full time job. A GREAT job at that.  And his own place.   But you know that joke about the knight in shining armor turning out to be a loser wrapped in tin foil? Well that’s what I got. This guy was driving his car on a Cinderella license because of a default in child support, lived in a studio apartment that was about as big as my walk in closet, and had two kids.  Now, when it comes to me, I’m never one to judge anyone from their past. How can I? You’ve all read my previous blogs right? I’m no one to judge on the fucked up shit people do. How can I fault someone that has as much as they CAN have in that part of their life. As long as I’m happy right?   Right???

The first incident that I couldn’t let go of was on my birthday.  Two months after we started dating. It was New Years Eve and we were at his families house. He was so drunk that in a middle of a conversation about us to his brother in law he proceeded to say that I “was the biggest girl he’s ever been with”.. Okay, well, now “Jo” who I discussed in my prior post was a cook. Whatever, I got comfortable, and yeah I put on a bit of weight. Not disgustingly heavy. I definitely carried it well, but really??? How could he say that. I’ve seen a few of his exes and to even say something like that totally crushed me. And from the looks on the faces of his family, they weren’t too impressed with his comments either.  As he continued through the next two months of resisting calling us boyfriend/girlfriend, it was like I was a child all over again, trying to prove myself like within “daddy issues” to prove that I was worthy enough to be loved and cared for. He resisted, and I persisted. 


We ended up being together for three incredibly long years. With bruised faces and egos, arrests, and restraining orders later. It’s still so bittersweet. There were so many instances in regards to other women, lies, friendships that developed so much turmoil along the way.  On the lighter side of it all, this guy showed me a lot of smiles. We did a lot of things together, and I grew very close to his kids. It’s so unfortunate that he became a pathological liar, or so I think. This guy became so bad that he accused me of sleeping with everyone under the sun. I had never cheated on him whatsoever, no matter how much crap he put me through. Well….. except for ONE time, when I woke up on my own couch, in my own apartment, after being tormented all night and then getting a phone call from my mom the next morning telling me to get my ass to her house. Jo had came to Massachusetts to visit. He showed up at my moms house in his brand new car, and told her all about his job, and said “Your daughter told me to get my shit together. And so I did. And I want her back.”  THIS was probably the hardest thing in my life. Here’s the guy I believed was my soul mate telling me that he got his shit together to better his life and to build a life with me, and here I am dealing with with an abusive asshole that I couldn’t understand how he could be so bad to me when I was so good to him.  He told me to quit my job and move out there and that he’d take care of everything until I could get on my feet out there, just so we could be together.  Unfortunately, the town I’m from is all I know. I hate it. But I’m an only child, who’s mom is my best friend, and this is where my family is. I was very nervous about that choice because of how independent I’ve been over the years, which is probably the only thing I can be proud of. I didn’t have a choice. Everyone I’d been with has been broke, or “in a bad spot” that never seems to go away, which leaves me no choice but to fend for myself. Like a cub in a pack of wolves playing the game of survival of the fittest. This really sucks. This isn’t a life a female should live. Yeah it’s taught me some great skills, but for it to be a way of life??? No effin way. 

Anyhow, as I’m in a relationship with a complete douchebag, and here is my god’s gift begging for another chance, I tell Jo that I can’t, because I have to respect the current relationship that I’m in. What a fuckin idiot I was. 

Still didn’t stop me from going out to Connecticut during a huge PowWow in my apartment…..  That was a crazy emotional weekend. I knew where I was suppose to be, but I couldn’t leave my family and my job behind. That’s all I had. I couldn’t trust him while in midst of our conversations he’d be scrolling through his phone. What kind of disrespect was that? It just brought me right back to where I was when I was 27.   How could I possibly have a relationship for the time being with my “soul mate” who lived two hours away, where my jerk boyfriend at the time lived now 30 seconds from my house.  (Yeah I forgot to mention I kicked him out after a long night of fist throwing).  I don’t know what kept me with Carl for so long.  Like I said, maybe it’s a crazy complex that I feel like I need to conquer to just prove to people that I’m really worth loving and that I’m a nice person. It just take a real strong person to claw past my harsh exterior to get to the real me. To show my true self will take a lot of dedication from the person that wants to see it, and it’s not an easy task, but I just can’t afford to put my heart up for gamble anymore….

So the end result with Carl, it got to the point where I didn’t even want to sleep in my own apartment anymore. This was MY place. It was MY name on the rent. I got two bedrooms in case I needed a roommate if things didn’t work out between him and I. We went through stupid endless nights from best friends, to arguing, to sex, to arguing, to distance, to best friends and all over again the next day. This was the true definition of a bi-polar relationship.  After three years though, I really did love him. Maybe not a healthy love, but there was love. The more he accused me, the more of the “tough guy” persona I unleashed, showing that he wasn’t going to bring me down no matter what he said or did. I wanted him to see the strong side of me, not the one he could break with a word or a fist.  Our routine got stale, and we no longer did all that fun shit. I hated that he had to pay so much child support, but respected that I, we, wanted to build memories that brought us close for the things we shared that he would always no matter what put money aside to spend time with ME. It was amazing. He made me feel important in his life. Is that why I stayed and put up with the bullshit? 

There were stories of other women that I turned my head to. Maybe because I knew of the secret sexual encounters that carried over from my guilt between me and Jo throughout that weekend in Connecticut, or when he came to Massachusetts to find me.  Maybe I didn’t see such an issue with the physical aspect of the abuse because I dealt with it so much already and I wasn’t going to let him get away from trying to make this work so easily. I don’t know. I can’t explain it.  Either way, after spending countless nights being faithful, sleeping at moms, sleeping at friends, sleeping in my car, just so I don’t have to face the verbal assault while I walk into my own apartment, I had to end it no matter how I did it. 

That week that he was to move out was the week of our anniversary, and the local govenor issued a warning for everyone to stay indoors due to the storm weather outside. I tried to make the best of it by agreeing to watch a movie and have him stay in the room, because in the meantime he was sleeping in the other bedroom. Which was quite okay with me. It was weird, because I was already past the point of being “okay” with how things were going. That’s just how I am. Once I get to that point, good luck getting me back to the way I once was.  Anyway, here came the trials. Let’s go to the casino. No. Let’s go to the movies. No. Let’s go to dinner. No.  I wanted no part of it, I was done. There was no turning back after everything he had done and made me feel. I couldn’t take it anymore, although I still had love lingering along.  He knew four days from then, he needed to be out…..

Four days later, his shit was still all over the place, unpacked, and he was passed out on the futon in the other room, hungover from the night before filled with his favorite bar with a side of cocaine. I stormed into that room and forced him to go. I had given him a whole month and a half to find a place from the last time we had gotten into a physical altercation and I wasn’t letting him milk it any longer.  He called his sister to stay in her building and a group showed up to move his stuff out. I stayed in my room, and cried. My mom and aunt came over for emotional support, and he was gone…. until a few days later… and then the torture began…..


The One Who Got Away….

I was 24. He was 21.

I invited my friend Will to come over and go swimming at my moms house. He was with his uncle, and with his friend from out of town named Jo.


We clicked instantly. We spend the afternoon and night cracking jokes, drinking beers, shots, mixed drinks, whatever we could find stashed away in the pool house. He was staying at his fathers in my town for the next three days, then going back to stay at his uncles house in a town about an hour away.  I wrote my number down on the Queen of Hearts from a deck of cards that we had used to play, and hoped to hear from him again.

Jo, Will, Will’s uncle, and myself jumped in the pool, wasted, each holding a different bottle in our hands.  That’s when Jo and I shared our first kiss.  This seemed more intoxicating than all of this liquor combined. I didn’t want him to leave.

I had to work the next day, and when it rounded close to midnight, a cab needed to be called. I asked Jo to stay with me and I’d bring him home in the morning. I didn’t wanna do this, since I really liked this guy, but I was afraid I would never see him again and wanted to take advantage of this situation for whatever it would become.  As the cab drove away with Will and his uncle in the car, Jo and I stripped off our bathing suits and had sex on the couch in the pool house. Good sex. No, great sex. It wasn’t about the physical entirely. This dude got me. I’ve never had anyone look me in the eyes and pierce right into my soul.

Jo and I became inseparable, and the excuses of why he couldn’t go back to his uncles an hour away got longer. Neither one of us wanted to let go. It was a connection I’d never felt or experienced before. He made me want to be a better woman. A better woman that wanted to eventually become a wife. A mother. A partner. A friend.  I still to this day, 7 years later, have no idea what it was that became the centrifugal force between us.

We were together for about a year and a half before we split up. Over stupid stuff. Immature stuff. Insecure stuff. During that break was when I met Don from my prior blog posting.  When I came back from the Dominican Republic, me and Jo linked right back up and picked up right where we left off.

I truly loved this guy. You could see it in our photos, our eyes, our company, everything. This guy did whatever I wanted or needed him to, and I never looked at him like a ‘sucker’ or a pushover. He genuinely wanted me to be happy. We were inseparable. We shared so much. We were best friends. No, MORE than best friends. He came back down to my town and we moved in together. Nothing could have been better. I loved his family, and they loved me. We did so many things together, So many adventures. So much stupid shit, lol!  I love a certain type of flower, and him and I use to dress up like ninjas and go to neighborhoods that we would see these type of flowers in peoples yards and go cut them down like we had samurai swords to take home as a souveneir of our ‘bad-ass-ness”. This, was my soulmate.

We decided to take a trip to Puerto Rico to see some of his family.  That’s where he proposed. I gladly accepted, and we were such a happy couple.

Then I started looking at the big picture. I worked at a corporate office, while he was part time flipping burgers. He did what he loved. Cooking. Whether he worked in a fancy restaurant, or a fast food type of environment, and I accepted that. But I tried to express that he needed to work full time, and save money for the wedding. We planned a lot, but his dedication showed different. We needed groceries, and he was buying video games. This hurt me. I felt like he didn’t see this as important as I did. I started resenting him, and putting up a wall. I got insecure when he was always on his cellphone, and started thinking he was cheating. My mind was going crazy. Long story short, I rebelled, and let him get away. I tried to hold on so tightly, that I drove myself away. I drove “US” away.

And there he was. Gone. Until……….

Me. The International Cover Up….

So after all the scenarios I’ve already filled you in on,  decided to stay low-key and spend time with the one true friend I really had. She was my best friend. Let’s call her Lola.

Lola and I have know each other since we were little kids. We had tried many times over the years to spend time together, but Lola was in a relationship with someone that was very controlling, and manipulative, and the father of her two kids. Well, this time around, they had split up. He had cheated on her with some other girl and got the girl pregnant. So Lola and I became “Us Against The World”.  We loaded up all of our free time with dance clubs, alcohol, booze cruises, concerts, after parties, you name it. We had so much fun, and I was doing well with keeping my legs closed at the same time.  We had partied with celebrities, which, was my breaking point when I hooked up with a famous music artist that had a concert at a local venue.  Make that two famous music artists, two separate times. I also dated a basketball player for a little while. We didn’t see each other much since he was traveling for games all the time. We never hooked up. Mostly because when he’d come back close to home and I’d see him, he’d be so fucked up on weed, cocaine, and ecstasy that I couldn’t even have a decent conversation to catch up with him. It was becoming a turnoff to me to just have sex with nothing else attached to it, and started feeling like a skanky groupie.

Then one stressful day, Lola and I went out to a local dance club that I had once worked at before as a shot girl/go-go dancer/bartender.  We tried to make it for last call, but arrived as people were exiting the club. For me having connections with this bar, I tried to get in anyway so we can have some free drinks.  As I’m walking through the parking lot, I was stopped by this absolutely beautiful man looking for some conversation. Wow, this guy was tall, tan, blue eyes, and gorgeous. I could tell he was confident, but the shy type, which I’m incredibly attracted to. We quickly swapped numbers and called it a night.

I spoke with him over the phone a few times during the week, and by the weekend we made plans to hit a local bar for some drinks and conversation. He was already going to be there with a buddy of his. Excitedly, I went. His friend was pretty cool, and the hot guy, let’s call him Don, was even hotter this time around, but I soon found out he was a kinda dumb. Seemed a little confused or something. Nonetheless, I pursued it, thinking, “Well, if he’s kinda an idiot, I’ll be holding the reigns in this relationship. I can rock his world, be the true girl that was hiding behind all my insecurities and skankiness, and this could be a beautiful thing”.  This was clearly a guy that was beautiful, but didn’t know it.  Security.

Things got weird after a few weeks. He only wanted to meet up at his friends houses, or out around the town. He didn’t care who saw us together, so I wasn’t worried it was another woman. But he just didn’t want me to come to his house. I thought, eh, this guy must be a dude with a small ass messy apartment that he’s embarassed about, or maybe he lives with his parents, or something else that he didn’t want to admit to me as a ‘man’. I let it go, and decided that whenever I have something good, I pick apart all the little things to find something that I can use as an excuse to not get close so I don’t get hurt.

Then, Don popped the question. Not to get married, but to go on a vacation internationally. His parents lived in another country and he wanted me to meet them, along with his brother.  He told me to get my passport, and to pay for my flight, and he would pay for everything else while I was there. I was so excited, but scared since I didn’t know him for very long. But, fuck it! My ass went to Spring Break by myself and risked homicide, why not go with this gorgeous man that I could probably kick his ass if I tried, and be treated to a tropical vacation?  It’s about time a man treats me to something nice for genuine interest in me.  I put my insecurities aside, and dished out the cash for an airline ticket.

Now, because of my job, I only had the time to vacation for one week, while Don was going for two. I figured I’d buy my ticket to travel a few days after he’d already been there, and leave before he does. You know, so he can spend time with his family beforehand, and then talk about me and get his families opinion about me afterwards. I was so excited to go. I had never been out of the country, and here’s this beautiful man fulfilling one of my dreams already.

Now here I am, traveling on the plane alone. I get to the Dominican Republic, and I’m literally the only white person in a three-city radius. Obviously my cellphone doesn’t work here, and no one speaks english.  I’m standing there alone with my luggage, while the entire population is staring me down as if I was a piece of red meat in a pack of wolves. People were yelling out the word “gringa”, and people coming up taking pictures of me. It was like the paparazzi, but honestly, I was a little scared.

Finally I was able through some lamens communications with a cab driver, I got them to call the phone number Don gave to me that I was able to reach him at in this country. They called him and he was stuck in traffic. I was so relieved to see him show up when he did, and was ready for an extravagant vacation. We were to spend a few days at an all-inclusive resort, and then a few days at his brothers house. People in this country were crazy. They would jump in front of cars throwing water on the windows and wiping them with their other hand sticking out for money. This was indeed a very poor place to be. The resort was beautiful, however, I didn’t get the quality time with Don that I was looking for. He got very friendly with the waitresses speaking a language that I didn’t understand and it was a bit uncomfortable. We did though do some fun activities which I will never forget. The downside of this guy? He sucked in bed. I chalked it up to it being the thorn of the rose.

When I met his family, I fell in love with them. They were so good to me. It was hilarious that I got so much attention being the “white girl” just from standing outside his brothers clothing store. After some drinks, I started dancing outside yelling to people to come to the store and buy stuff. I made the best out of a poor city.

Then, one day at the resort, Don was about to excuse himself, saying he had to call home and check on his daughter. Yeah, he had dropped the bomb on that earlier about a daughter. I realized that it must’ve been why he didn’t want me to come over. He didn’t want to expose his daughter to another woman. I get it. It’s okay.   I understood that. Anyhow, I told him that it was a great idea, and that I should probably call home myself. He gave me a funny look, and I thought, “oh damn, this is it… this dude is about to be sneaky and now he can’t sneak off and talk to a waitress since I’ll be right there”.  This resort had a souvineir shop which contained a few “phone booths”, which was really small sections with sheets creating a cube like in a hospital room that you can obtain your privacy. As we both walked towards the store, he sat me down and said he needed to speak with me. I sat down and he told me that he was really going to call his wife.     His WHAT?!?!  How could he pull this off? We had spent a lot of time together. I had gone to all his softball games, met his friends, visited him at work, met his family, went to another COUNTRY with this man.  Instantly, like an allergic reaction, I went into my “fight or flight” mode. Pissed of the betrayal, but had to play nice in the sand box since I was in a foreign country and didn’t wanna be left stranded.  That quickly changed to “Fuck this guy… what an asshole…. but hey, he wants to show me the good life, obviously I must be better than her…..”

This was my problem. My high was knowing that I was good enough for SOMEthing. Even if it was negative. If I can get you to deceive the person you marry, then I apparently must be hot shit to SOMEone.  The rest of the trip I spend drinking, dancing, trying to speak the language to communicate, and enjoyed nothing but the vacation, and less of the fact that I was there with a beautiful, and unavailable, man.  I was so hurt that when I went into the phone booth, I called up my ex in tears….. which I will tell you about him in my next blog.  The love of my life. The one that got away. SMH.

So obviously, as I mentioned earlier, I was coming home before Don was.  When I came home, I linked back up with the ex the very next day to work the relationship out.  When I saw Don’s buddy that I had met in the beginning, I confronted him asking why he didn’t tell me about Don’s wife. Now I know the whole “guy code” thing, but me and his friend had built a good friendship over time. Don’s friend says, “OH….. THAT’S why you’re upset???”  I was taken aback by it. I asked him what else could have upset me about Don?  Then he told me the truth about Don….

Apparently, Don lived in the Dominican Republic and was in a heavy relationship with a radio disc jockey. Who was a man. Don’s father said that ‘no son of his was going to be a faggot…’ and threw Don out of their house and disowned him from the family.  He moved to the United States, found a woman, married her, had a baby and tried to “prove” he wasn’t gay, which was the reason he wanted me to meet his family. To show he was such a ‘man’ and loved women so much that he had TWO on his plate.   REALLY?!?!  The Lifetime Movie Channel doesn’t even get this good…….

Fuck My life.

The Sugar Daddy…..

So, where were we… oh right…. I was coming home from Spring Break and leaving clothes behind in the hotel room just so I could fit all of my hard earned beads on the boardwalk….. Right.

Now I have to find a way to tell my boss how his camera got stolen.

My boss, well, let’s just say he’s a very unhappily married man. One who made millions of dollars within the company that he owned, lived in a mansion, and thought he was “The Man”, when really, he was pretty much a troll with cash.  Anywho, he enjoyed my stories and told me some of his own, which were quite interesting to say the least. Then came the proposition….


Long story short, my boss was very easy to please. I’d let him get a boob grab from time to time, which led to me performing oral sex for cash. He never offered me money for favors, I just earned him spoiling me. It got quite uncomfortable after some time because he started becoming aggressive, and made it uncomfortable when I would reject him, or if I wanted to start dating someone. Him and I only had sex once. He gave me money to rent a hotel room, money to buy the finest at Victoria’s Secret, which the real secret is that I got something cute on clearance at a local department store and pocketed the rest of the cash.  We met up, and 10 minutes later he was gone, leaving money and a ball of cocaine behind. Yeah, I guess I felt almost like a prostitute, but hey, he wasn’t a stranger to me so I almost “justified” it.  It became so overwhelming when his advances became stronger. I was uncomfortable because he had cameras everywhere in the office, including in his office where I’d perform my oral treats. This guy was becoming sexually intense where, he’d be asking me to stick my finger in his ass at the same time. Nothing made him cum quicker. A new car stereo, clothes, money…. all for a few minutes of my time during the week. Not too shabby.

Eventually it became harassment and I had to find a way outta there. He was pulling some shady moves at work in regards to some of his employees that I knew it was only a matter of time that a lawsuit was going to erupt somewhere. And it did. And luckily I got out in time.

Shortly after, I found out his son was more of a freak than HE was.

I saw his son at a local bar with a female friend, who was discussing an adult sex toy party that she would be attending. We started talking about toys, scenarios, etc.  A few weeks later, his son showed up at my apartment begging me to fuck him with a strap on….. Yeah, so what. I did it. I didn’t get anything from him in return though.


….The Spring Break Secrets

It was about time I went on a vacation.  My buddy from my prior post (Jakes roommate/lover/whatever) was suppose to go to Florida with me for spring break. He knew I needed a vacation, and we had become good friends and he had offered to pay most of the tab to go out there. As the time got closer, he was really fickle about it, so I said “Fuck it” and booked a flight myself. For just me. Booked a hotel room on the beach. For just me. And was adamant about not letting anyone hold me back from what I wanted to do. Yeah, it was quite daring to go down there alone, but hey, you only live once, and I wasn’t scared of much.

When I got to the hotel, I realized it wasn’t the greatest, but hey, I’m in Florida, I shouldn’t be spending time in a hotel room anyway. The first morning I was there, I looked over my private bedroom “balcony” down into the pool, and there was a cynderblock, a patio chair, and a banana peel in the pool. It didn’t seem like there was much spring break action in that area, but I’d make it work.  I got ready by myself, I went to the clubs by myself, I didn’t need anyone, even though I began to feel incredibly lonely. The first time I went to a nightclub there, I got trashed. Met a pretty cute guy that I had danced with, barely said a word to each other, but it was so packed in there that we had no choice but to be practically pressed against each other. The next thing I knew, I was dragging him into the handicapped stall in the womens bathroom and bending over the toilet seat for a quickie.  Another fantasy off the checklist.  Meeting a complete stranger, keeping it mysterious with only eye contact conversation, tossing the inhibitions out the window and then go in opposite directions with no explanation or conversation. It was exhilarating. Until I realized that the bastard stole the digital camera that my boss let me borrow that I left on top of the toilet paper holder. Great.

The next time I went to the club I stayed a little bit more sober, and tried to enjoy myself. The club was huge, and I found myself people watching most of the night. I met a guy who I was in no shape or form attracted to who actually lived in a city about 40 minutes from where I lived. We swapped thoughts on sports teams and hot spots in our home state. He was a pretty cool guy.  We chatted so much that the next thing I knew they were calling last call.  Him and his buddies were staying an hour away from the club and were trying to stay in a more local hotel so they wouldn’t have to drive back so far, and they offered me a ride back to my hotel. I was a little hesitant, but hey, I was at spring break alone. How much more risky does that get? Much more.

As I sat in the backseat with a car of three guys, I had to wait patiently for them to find a place first before everyone else booked up the rooms on the busy strip. When they finally found a place with vacancy, I had asked to use their bathroom while the driver was hitting on some girl that was standing in the parking lot. They let me in, but then they didn’t wanna let me out of the bathroom. One of the guys wanted to hook up and I was not about it and just tried joke around by brushing their advances off so I could just get back to my room. Well, the driver came into the room and was pissed because the girl from the parking lot turned him down and he didn’t like it. Next thing I knew, this guy was pulling out a gun saying that nobody was going anywhere. Was this really happening?? Was I going to get shot or gangbanged by these dudes all because the drivers ego was hurt? Oh my god, all I could think about was my mother and how I would never see her again. I tried to talk to one of the guys to tell him to calm his buddy down and to take me back to the hotel.  All I kept thinking is how I was scared that they weren’t gonna let me go because they thought I would go to the cops. I said my prayers in my head, and the guy said something to the driver in spanish, and he put the gun down and drove me back to the hotel.  Ever since then, I’m pretty sure I’m petrified of angry drunk men.

The next day, I spent the entire day in the heart of spring break. There was this one beautiful hotel that sat on the beach with a pool, a dj, contests, etc. It was pretty cool, but still a little boring. At the bar, there were these two guys that clearly wanted to be the center of attention, but they were hilarious! Very chatty, outgoing, just had a good vibe about these guys. They were passing info along that they were having a party in their hotel room that night and everyone was invited. Two good looking guys with awesome personalities having a party where there’s sober staff nearby? Sure, why not.  I ended up at the party and had a blast! These guys were great company even more than earlier that day. They had a king bed suite with a hot tub in their room with a walk out balcony where all the fun was happening.  It wasn’t long before I was in my bathing suit in the hot tub with a bottle of Malibu Rum thinking that spring break was finally picking up positive speed. I ended up passing out in a chair in their room from being too tired to walk back to my hotel, and the two guys slept in the bed. It was surprising that neither one tried to get fresh with me, which was actually a little comforting. We all instantly became friends and shared many laughs, and they offered to have me get all my stuff from my hotel room, check out, get my money back, and come stay with them. Wellllll…… that’s what I did.

So the fun began.  These guys were the center of attention, driving around the strip in an Infinity G35 with rims, a lighting system, and a stereo system.  TVs in the car and everything. The three of us stuck out like a sore thumb in a good way. I was so upset about the camera being stolen that I took my hotel refund and bought a camcorder, and so did they.  Of course it was their room, so they were always wanting to have girls come and hang out, and they treated me like a buddy of theirs, and being that close to a hot tub on spring break only frequently brought back the memories from my previous post.  I imagined these girls getting drunk and ending up in the hot tub and me being that girl they’ll never see again, and then everybodys inhibitions go out the window. Unfortunatly, these guys kept bringing back these two chicks back that were completely annoying. One wasn’t even attractive, and the other swore she was an awesome singer and of course the guys kept complimenting her on it to make them sound interested. They told me that. It was funny because she totally bought it. But kept singing. Annoying.   Their other friend from New York showed up a few days after I had gotten there, so I started hanging out with him while these other two guys were chatting up the cheeseballs.

Then one night, me and the guys headed out to the club for some dancing, and then the tube shots started flowing. By the time we got back to the room, we were all pretty toasty. I started playing around with my video camera, and one of the guys started playing around with theirs. Next thing you know, I hear the hot tub filling up…….  Needless to say, it was a crazy night. We both had the same video camera and luckily they got swapped by mistake before me coming home. And the one I ended up with had most of the footage. The other is probably still floating around in New York somewhere.

Dang, I didn’t feel it back then, but now I’m thinking I was kind of a slut…..

….The Hot Tub Experience

So there we were. Me and the birthday girl that I had known for years through school and we hung out here and there. Really nice girl, but a little wacky. I can’t put my finger on what it was about her but she always seemed a little, “off”.  As I sat on Jake’s couch next to his roommate, (Jake was vacationing in another country at the time) and she sat on the loveseat,  she casually says to me “You’ve kissed a girl before, right? What’s it like?” Now I can’t remember what exactly we were talking about that inspired her to ask me that. I’ve kissed plenty of girls before and had no problem discussing it. I’ve always been attracted to women. I had never gone further than kissing, but that’s only because I really didn’t know how to initiate anything smoothly and was afraid I’d freak the girl out. All the girls I’ve made out with was all pretty much under the same circumstances…. drunkenness. Which for ME, I’d think that would be the BEST time to take it another step and blame it on the alcohol the next day if the other person had regrets.  It was usually me making some sort of joke like that their boyfriend better watch out for me, or if they were single, I’d say something like we should just ‘totally date each other because I’d do you’ and play it from there.

Anyway, so I told her it’s no different than kissing a man, just a little more sensual and I’d be willing if she was willing. She came over and I kissed her for about a good 30 seconds. I looked over at the roomie and told him to start up the hot tub. All three of us ended up in there and them two started making out and I proceeded to go down on her. All I kept thinking is “Oh my god, is this really happening right now?”As I continued alternating between oral sex and finger foreplay, I don’t know if she really knew how to respond to all this and I tried not to be too pushy because I didn’t want her to flake out.  Obviously since I was the first girl she’s kissed, all of this other stuff was new to her as well. I couldn’t let her know what I wanted in return, because I didn’t wanna fuck it up. I quickly got a little bored and stepped aside. He had a glass shower in the bathroom as well so I showered while watching him fuck my friend. It was pretty hot, but weird how I was so casual about it after I got out the shower. Going into the kitchen to mix myself a drink, do a line and try to process my surroundings. Now looking back, I shoulda been more involved and taken advantage of this opportunity.  But she was kinda dull, and I’d much rather it be a female that can be just as feisty as myself and reciprocate.

The next morning, we went back to her place (just her and I). She lived with her mother, but her mother was also out of town.  Although being hungover, I still thought, hey, maybe this’ll be a second shot at this experience. With her mind more clear, I payed close attention of how she acted to ensure that this didn’t freak her out or ruin our relationship. She asked me to stay with her and go back to sleep.  I stayed, we did kiss  and touch a little bit, but that was it. We ended up falling asleep snuggling with each other.

The next thing I knew, I had myself a Stage 5 Clinger.

Her and I would go out to the club and I’d be talking to my guy friends and she’d get upset and tell them that they better know that I’m going home with her. She started trying to make out with me in front of guys just to get the guys attention. She was constantly up my ass (not literally) with everything and an emotional mess which I had to wean this girl off due to her annoyance.

At least I got to have somewhat of an experience that I was interested in having. It’s funny in a way since the best friend of the guy I had lost my virginity to spread a nasty rumor in high school that we had a threesome, which was not true, and I spent so much time trying to set the story straight, and then years later, it was something that I actually wanted to experience. I never really saw that girl again since she moved to New York with her family. She’s reached out to me on facebook, but that’s it.  As for the roomie, as we discussed the hot tub stuff, I had told him that was the farthest I had gone with a girl, and he had confessed that he had this huge crush on Jake and that they’ve hooked up quite a bit and that it was a huge secret.. Wow. Jake was a dead end road, and I’m pretty sure there was no way I’d end up sandwiched between Jake and the roomie.  From my sexcapade with Jake prior, it wouldn’t have even been worth it……

….The Other Drugs

Ok ok, so where were we? Oh yeah, I just told you how I found out the guy I was hooking up with was married to my supervisor. Awkward. I didn’t really like her anyway, and I’m pretty sure she was up to her own shenanigans herself. This scenario continued for a little while, and it was that sneaky, playing with fire, thinking “I’m the cats tail” feeling that got me high. At work, I no longer got mad at the crappy work assignments I got handed to me, I took it out on my supervisors husband instead. Eventually that fizzled out, I got tired of it all, especially after I was fired. But that was my own wrong-doing. My late nights made it almost impossible to get to work on time, and if you couldn’t tell, my respect for my job wasn’t too serious. Now that I look back on it, I actually feel bad for partaking in that whole situation. But hey, I was 21, single, and heartbroken…  I realized there were plenty of other men out there, and quite a few wanted a piece of me. Or should I say, meat.  I certainly wasn’t skanky, but I definitely had my fun. With as many guys that I associated with, it was like an addiction to feel that type of “power”. I was untouchable. I couldn’t be hurt, I couldn’t be lied to, I didn’t care. I’d have my fun and toss it aside. I felt safe, and wanted, but disgusted all at the same time. Then there was Victor.


This was a bittersweet relationship. I purposely left out the part earlier that somewhere within being around the college area, everywhere I turned, someone was snorting a line of cocaine while balancing their beer in their other hand. Bathrooms. Bedrooms. Pinky nails. Countertops. You name it. I had never tried it, until then.  And somewhere along that, I found a way to make an extra dollar. I’m in no way shape or form, fit to spend time in jail. But I didn’t care. I was all around it anyway, and I didn’t judge my so-called friends because they accepted me, so why not??

Anyhow, back to the story. So Victor. Victor was a good looking guy that I’d see around here and there, carried swag better than most, and I was drawn to him. Turned out he also was a dealer. Immediately we had things to talk about and compare notes. Not the best way to get to know someone, for sure, but his timid attitude was so desirable, and it was like in the back of my mind, I felt like we connected because we were both two adults, doing something we shouldn’t be doing, and that there was a better life for us to be living.  The endless nights of playing cards, dominoes, drinking beers, and doing lines. Swapping stories while watching the sun come up, and spending the next day in bed together which the occasional round of sex and chinese food takeout.  We vibed so well together….for about a year.

His best friend was an ass. He was a skirt chaser, and a trouble maker. I couldn’t stand him hanging around this guy.  One night while Victor was sleeping over, he got a phone call from his buddy in the middle of the night who started yelling at him saying that he found out that Victor had been sleeping with the girl HE was sleeping with. I could hear all this because I was laying beside him. Victor didn’t say a word. His buddy proceeded to say “Oh, your girlfriends there? We’ll talk about this later then….” I confronted him as soon as he hung up the phone, and he confessed that he had been sleeping with this other girl. He couldn’t deny it, since I had heard the conversation myself.  I was devastated. Especially that this other girl is so hideous looking it’s not even funny. Trust me on this.

After a while, and after me medicating by hooking up with another guy, I decided to try to give me and Victor another shot. That quickly died out when he hit me across the face because he thought I embarassed him since I asked my friend to see if he could get Victor a job where he worked, since Victor was looking for legal employment. I gave him a job…. to pick up all his shit I threw out the bedroom window.

It wasn’t long after that I was up to my old tricks. I had quit selling drugs, and moved back home, but I was still always ready for friends and bar scene adventures. Feeling lost all over again, I had to make my way back into the world, since I revolved quite a bit around Victor.  But I could never seem to find that feeling of belonging anywhere…

Back on the homefront, my mom had remarried to a guy we’ll call Ken. Ken was awesome at first. He was so much fun, full of life, outgoing, polar opposite from the strict law enforcer she married previously. Once they had gotten engaged, I’m almost positive he grew a set of red horns on his head. This guy spend most of the time at the bar, come home and either start a fight with mom just to have a reason to take off and go back to the bar. The best one was when he said he was going out to pick up rock salt in the Winter, and came home like two days later. Sans rock salt.  And this was no ordinary bar that he frequented. This was the local slumville. Cheap beers and a multitude of pills sold at every other barstool. There’s not a time you couldn’t drive by there and see a toothless degenerate standing outside with a dirty white Hanes t-shirt with their hair all desheveled while smoking a cigarette scheming on someone for spare change. It wasn’t too long after that Ken got addicted to pills, along with booze and cocaine, while my mom was home alone tending house.  The cycle was so icky that I turned the cheek a lot since it was my mothers life, and she was a big girl, and I had my own life that I had to figure out where I needed to be. She had her own crap going on. So of course, I embraced anyone and everyone that allowed me to.

Here I was. Working at a job I loved being at, although I still didn’t feel like I belong there. It was a small office staff, who have already built their ‘work family’ that I couldn’t seem to find my way through the indirect initiation to be part of the cool group that would go out for lunch together. Who had time for that anyway while my mind was being consumed with wondering why my biological father treated his other children so great and I got nothing but disappointment, my ex-stepfather cut off all communication since his new girlfriend thought he shouldn’t have ties since I wasn’t his biological child (which, by the way you’ll take notice from my previous posts that this now makes both dads cast me aside for another woman), my mom who is my best friend was miserable, sad and lonely, my stepdad was a drunk and a drug addict who was barely around unless he was home showering between work and the bar, or going through our belongings to find money to steal, my friendships weren’t solid, I didn’t fit in at my job, and I felt alone and unworthy of being loved properly. And then I met my boss’s nephew who worked there.  We’ll call him Jake…..

If Jake walked up to you and told you he was a model, you’d believe it. This was a very unique experience. This was the first guy that made me blush every single time he walked through the door. I could barely speak without sounding like a jumbling idiot. I’d see his truck pull up and it was like I was a ten year old girl catching a real life glimpse of Justin Bieber. My boss told me that he was single, had a roommate who also worked for the company and that he had his shit together. I’m pretty sure it was obvious to everyone that I was intrigued beforehand. So what was I to do? Become friends with the roommate of course! Long story short, I eventually got invited to a house party they had, and the interior was decorated than any of my girlfriends places….. do you see where I’m going with this????   Well…. one night eventually, I got the phone call asking what I was doing. It must’ve been around midnight so I knew what was going on. But I was so incredibly nervous you woulda thought I was a virgin on prom night. Me and Jake hooked up, which I had psyched myself up daily by visualizing how it would be, that it was totally overrated. We never hooked up again, but me and the roommate stayed friends. Close enough that he let me and one of my female friends use his hot tub on her birthday after plenty of boozing with a side of curiosity……

Stay tuned for part 4…..

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