Release your inner inhibitions and just listen:
When going thru this journey called life, along the line, we go thru a series of events. We reach peaks in our lives we never thought possible, and we also hit rock bottom of the valley. In between those peaks and valley's you must find an outlet which best suits YOU. For the 8 year old me, that outlet was writing, whether it be my inner most thoughts or something creative. You see, the thing is, this is the first time since reading papers aloud in grade school I have shared samples of my writing.
The idea for this story in particular came about when I was living in New Orleans. My significant other asked me if I had been writing lately, and suggested I see where I was creatively. From there, I wrote for hours non-stop with a "This could happen, this does happen" kind of mindset. For a year or so I had writers block, and I moved back home to Atlanta where I would meet an actress from Toronto named Kadijah, who would not only inspire me to write, but to eventually turn this idea into a series. I am excited to share what I have written with you all and look forward to hearing your feedback. So without further adieu allow me to introduce myself.
Artist who is sensitive about her shit.
Like I said before, I don't fawn over no nigga, but when we pulled up to Murphy's landing strip I wanted to pull his dick out right then and there. But I had to keep my composure, at least until we reached our destination. I looked at the Saks bags sitting on the peanut butter colored seats, and remembered that's all I had to wear. I guess Chi noticed ‘cause his response to my look of apprehension was, "Don't worry, baby girl, we'll get you some new clothes; besides you can't wear chinchillas where we're going anyways." "Where we going anyway?" I asked with a slight attitude. After all, I ran with this nigga, but I didn't KNOW him. He looked directly at me with those beautiful brown eyes and asked me if I trusted him. I looked right back at him and said "Yeah." He walked to the passenger side and opened my door.
I envisioned myself sucking the skin off this Dior-smelling nigga’s dick. You see, nobody had ever taken me anywhere let alone opened any door for me. He escorted me up the steps to the plane, having me feel like the queen of England or some shit. Once I finally got in it took everything I had in me not to drop my jaw and act like I had some culture bout myself, like I had been places before. He had the shit all set up; red roses everywhere, and those cream candles that smelled like vanilla filled the air. There was a dinner table set up with those silver things the butlers in the movies use to reveal your food.
"What's all this?" He replied, "Just a little something to let you know I appreciate you, and everything you've done for the past few months." "Really, Chi, I should be thanking you; before you grabbed me at the club I was sleeping on the floor, eating noodles. That night would have been my first time strippin’." He looked surprised. "Damn, baby. I ain't know that. To be real, something drew me to you. Your demeanor, down to the way you carried yourself in them high ass heels and dental floss you had on." We shared a laugh as the plane took off, and I sat there trying to read in between the lines, trying to figure out if he liked me or if he was just trying to be nice. I mean, yeah, he had done all this for me, but we never chilled one-on-one, and he never told me outright that he liked me. One thing I've learned in life is to never assume.
After we ate, he brought us a bottle of that brown shit I like; we drank straight from the bottle as we played some drinking games and got to know each other on a more personal level in a more intimate atmosphere. I don't know if it was the liquor or me just wanting to vent, but I told him about my checkered past, how I moved from Atlanta, and about that fine ass girl Winter who lived across the hall from me. Then he asked me, "What was the best thing that's ever happened to you, and the worst?" I took a moment to gather my thoughts, and told him the best thing that happened to me was moving to New York. The worst was not knowing who I was.
I came from nothing, never really picked up any skills. I was just going through the motions; going to school, work, maybe a club or two on occasion, but I would repeat the same lifestyle every day. I was just existing. Not truly living and appreciating life. I didn’t think I had a purpose. Fuck my mother being on drugs and leaving me for dead when a man she'd call "Papi" beat my ass because she stole from him. Fuck my roommate who put all my shit out the house, and changed the locks after she fucked my nigga. And fuck that nigga who left me at a rest stop in Chattanooga on the way back to Atlanta with nothing but the clothes on my back and a suit case.
To this day I'm still amazed at the fact that I made it to Atlanta with a map and a phone call from a landline at the rest stop. I had little help from a gentleman who worked there; he saw everything that happened, and was kind enough to get me some food and make sure I made it to my destination safely. Before I left he handed me an orange folder with that silver clip on it. I didn't open the folder until I got to the Georgia/Tennessee line. It was 3k cash with his information in it. Then and there I decided I was gonna make my way to the airport, and from there I bought a one way ticket to New York.
Chi looked at me with a solicitous look in his eyes. I asked him the same question. "What is the best and worst thing that's ever happened to you?" As he made his way over to me, he kissed me on my forehead and said, "You coming to New York and blessing me with your presence." From there he made his way to my neck and then my collar bone. I could feel my body temperature rising as I took him in. He was so beautiful, the sound of his voice made me weak. He smelled and felt sooo good, and the taste and feel of his lips made everything even better. It was everything I thought it would be, and then some. This man was able to do what no one else ever could. He had tapped into all five of my senses in just a few hours. Beyond that, he had a beautiful mind and I didn't have a doubt in my mind that he would protect me.
As he kissed me, he started gently peeling off my clothes. I couldn't help it; from that moment at Junior’s, I knew I wanted him, and now it was happening. I pushed him into the seat directly across from me, and he reclined as I got on top of him. Somehow I managed to take off his pants and boxers with my feet; I could feel my eyes-widen as I felt him make his way inside. I gasped, and he whispered, "Damn, baby." I started rollin’ and riding on his dick like I had never before, like the plane was about to crash. Right when I felt myself about to cum, he told me to "spin around on that dick." I complied, and as soon as my back was turned, he stood up in it and bent me over all in the same motion. One fist full of hair, and one hand full of ass he told me to "quit running and keep throwing that ass back. I did what daddy told me, and he replied "Yeah, just like that." I felt myself cummin’ again, and he went longer and deeper.
At this point, I'm at the brink of losing my voice in between screaming this nigga’s name and talking shit right back to him. He literally took my breath away, and if you ever had great dick in your life, you know exactly what I mean. It was happening again, I was cummin; and then I hear "Mr. Black and Ms. Monroe, sorry to interrupt, but this is your pilot speaking. We are getting pretty close to our destination.” Chi pulled out and I passed out, exhausted.
I woke up to Chi on the phone, fully clothed, putting some money into duffle bags. I got up with panties full of cum, so before I got off of the plane I flushed my panties down the toilet. When I finally got off, a little Spanish-looking man with a cigar in his mouth came to me dripped in gold with a silk shirt on. He gave me kisses and said, ‘Bienvenidos a Bogotá, a mi casa…bienvenidos a Colómbia.”
Welcome to Bogotá, welcome to my home…welcome to Colombia.