Kita – Chapter 42 – Yellow Fever

While baby’s away in Florida, she’s been on my mind and I’ve been thinking about my attraction to women. Asian women in particular. I love all women of all races but find Asian women especially bewitching.

These days you can’t get anywhere with out someone being called out for having yellow fever. Lets talk about what it means honestly, without resorting to ugly name-calling that usually comes out of discussions around this subject.

The term’s been around for a while and is similar to the derisory term Jungle Fever to describe white women who are attracted to black men. That term has largely disappeared but the term Yellow Fever has really sunk in and become a well-known term not used exclusively by Asian women, although most of them are no doubt aware of the phenomenon.

Let’s be 100% clear on one thing: the Interracial Asian/Caucasian couples which are so frequent these days are the total opposite of the cliche of the THAI bride (typically married to an older western man, usually unattractive and with limited options),since the women are from the same backgrounds, similarly educated, etc. Unfortunately, people still have the idea that western men are exploiting so-called submissive Asian women?

Unfortunately the submissive Asian woman is largely a result of Confucian culture in which women are raised to respect men and follow orders from them. No doubt there are some men who will find this behavior attractive and this may be the reason why they are more taken by Asian women.

It must be admitted here that many men find American society to be incredibly rights based and libertarian. you can’t say or do anything without someone being offended. This has truly had a terrible effect on relationships, with 1 in 3 marriages ending in divorce.

I’d be prepared to bet that most women in modern interracial relationships are more intelligent and better-educated than their western male partners. Far from being submissive, most Asian women are very assertive, they simply have a different approach to dealing with say, their frustration and anger than most other women do. I don’t now how effective shouting is but most kinds of women still feel that this is the way to deal with relationship problems.

I’ve been spending time with Asian women for the last few years. I guess success breeds success because I’m making more and more friends with girls who happen to be Asian women. The thing is I know what I’m dealing with and it’s all very reassuring for me. I find that these women enjoy the same things I do and we are culturally similar in spite of being from very different countries I did some internet research on ‘yellow fever’ and it seems most people using it are some women who feel that men shouldn’t be attracted to them. And yet, what is a man supposed to do? When I was younger, I was attracted by blonde women who had long lega (because this was what society held up as a beauty ideal). So I went after these women, even though I was disappointed when I found out that they weren’t what I had expected.  In life, you must go after what you want in order to be happy. Being around these women makes me happy and I’m in no mind to stop, despite what some people would no doubt put down to an unnatural fixation.

According to an article on the Harvard Crimson, ‘There is nothing wrong with being a white man who is attracted to Asian women. Many times, it is a subconscious desire that you can’t really control anyway.’

And the article was written by an Asian woman, Nian Hu,

So there you have it.

So Yellow Fever be damned, here’s a song by one hit wonder, Yello.

I miss Kita!

 

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Bailey – Chapter 2 – Twas the Night Before Christmas…

I confirm with Bailey that we are still on for 3:30. I think it’s cool to be meeting a girl for the first time on Christmas Eve. Just something romantic about that.

I close up the salon around 3pm that Sunday. I figure I’ll head over to Dan Dan early. It’s a cute Asian bar/restaurant around the corner from the salon. I walk over and figure I’ll get there early for a pre-game glass of wine to take the edge off. I’m looking forward to meeting Bailey. I go in. She’s already at the bar. Wow, a girl that’s early. I like that.

I greet her and she looks cute. We shake hands and decide to move to a quiet corner of the bar near the wall. It’s cold out and I don’t want her to be chilled every time someone comes through the door.

There is some woman working the bar not my buddy. I ask where he is, and she says he doesn’t work Sundays. I order a chardonnay and she the Pinot Grigio. We start chatting. I review some points on her profile that I really liked. The banter is going well. I notice on several instances that she is touching me. That’s a good sign. If a woman touches you, she definitely likes you.

This is good.

We order a bowl of their famous noodles. It’s big enough to split. She forgoes the chopsticks for a fork. I think our date is going well. I love meeting a new girl on Christmas Eve!

We exchange stories and she’s loving the noodles. Surprisingly my buddy Nate shows up and he’s here to work. I’ve known him for years and I always usually follow him to wherever he’s tending bar. He comes over and greets me by name. This always makes me look good to whomever I’m with. It’s good to know people in the hospitality industry.  When you go to wherever you know people you get the hook up. Men define themselves normally by what they do. Women on the other hand define themselves by who they know. I know so many people around the city, it wields power when you’re out on a date. It makes her feel she’s with a man of substance and importance in his surroundings.

I eat come of the noodles but Bailey pretty much polishes them off. She must have really loved them! She also appears to want something else. I hand her the menu and she goes with the shrimp pot stickers. I normally go with the pork but let the lady have what she wants.

She orders another glass of wine and I do the same. The pot stickers come out and Bailey rips into them. I’m good with what I’ve had and doing just fine with my wine.

We’ve been here for about two hours. It’s a solid first date. I tell her I’m ready to wrap it up and she has to go pick up some gift cards and visit her grandmother. I think that’s sweet and she calls for an UBER.

I pay the bill. It’s not bad. it’s the holidays and I asked her to come here. She doesn’t live in the city so she did all the traveling and I want to pay. Maybe Bailey can be my new affair.

I settle up and we go outside. I thank her for a lovely evening. I want to see her again. We agree to meet up again and go on another date. I have an idea and I tell her I’ll be texting her. The car arrives, we hug and she’s off.

I later get a text from her thanking me for the evening and that she is home safe.

So maybe I’ve got a new fun girl to hang with but only time will tell.

 

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Bailey – Chapter 1 – From Texting to Connecting

I matched with Bailey on OkCupid. Let’s take a look at her profile.

Bailey

27 – Philadelphia, PA

Straight, Bisexual, Heteroflexible, Sapiosexual, Woman, Single, 5’5″ Thin

My Self Summary

So apparently OkCupid decided to delete all of my content on my fucking profile. I had a bunch of witty things written here. Oh well… I’m a spoken word artist. Honest, raw, blunt, cynical, funny, frugal, practical, logical, nurturing, attentive, catering, independent, passionate, no nonsense. I was originally looking for a life partner but this website doesn’t offer those so let’s just hang. Not here for sex unless we actually go together. I’m old fashioned. If you have kinky anywhere on your profile, buzz off.

What I’m doing with my life

Working at an insurance company and retail job, volunteering and performing as a a spoken word artist. Also, I’m a really nice, gentle person. You just can’t tell from this profile.

I’m really good at:

Being funny in a super corny way. Talking to myself in public. Word play.

The first thing people notice about me

My facial piercings. Especially my Medusa.

Food: Soul food and Chinese. But I legit will eat almost anything. Every guy I meet is some craft beer snob. I’ll take a sip for the sake of feigning open-mindedness. But THE SHIT IS NASTY, OK? I like cheap ass wine and Seagram’s wine coolers. The girly jams. That’s it.

Six things I can’t live without

This list is ever changing…

Poetry, Grandma, Music, Curse words/SAT words, This asshole cell phone, Google maps

I spend a lot of time thinking about

Finding my happy place. Black lives matter. Trump is a cunt.

On a typical Friday night I am

At a social or artistic event

The most private thing I’m willing to admit

I spontaneously cry during cute commercials

You should message me if

You are drama free, baggage free, looking for something real, ***own a car*** (I’m not a chauffer) and want to connect in person quickly.

You eat sleep and breathe art

You like a nice firm cuddle.

You smell like sunshine and rainbows

You acknowledge that I’m not crazy. I’m quirky. Big Diff.

It bothers you that I didn’t put a period after rainbows.

 

That’s Bailey’s profile.

I like her. 27 years old. As we all know here at phicklephilly that’s my sweet spot. They are all looking for daddy and then want to get married and have kids. Then it’s over. That’s okay. I love meeting them and offering what wisdom I can. At this point since I’m long divorced and Lorelei lives with me I am beyond all of that. I may marry again. But she will be a doctor that will take care of my sorry ass and love me forever.

But for now, I want to meet quirky pierced “Fell asleep face down into a tackle box” baby. She’s going to turn 28 the day after Christmas. No problem meeting and old goat so I’m going to bring in the ’67 Pontiac GTO game I always do. Let’s see what happens. The blog won’t write itself, and the art is all.

Can’t wait to meet Bailey. She seems really nice. In her profile she says she’s thin. That could mean nice legs.

Let’s go with that.

I decide to write the first text on OkCupid.  She’s unique so I need to go with something original in my approach. Then I remember she likes “Dad Jokes” So I open with the following:

Waiter: Careful these plates are hot. Me: That’s okay, I’m not really attracted to plates.

She responds. “Gems. I knew you’d have some.”

“Hi Bailey. I loved your profile and you seem absolutely fascinating.”

“Thank you and likewise. I have a special place in my heart for comedians.”

“Me too. I’ve done stand up in the past and it’s terrifying and hilarious. Please tell me more about your spoken word art.”

“I’ve been writing and performing poetry since middle school as well as singing and acting. After high school I stopped performing for years until last year. Now I attend 2 open mics a week and occasionally book paid gigs. It’s my favorite thing in the world. It has brought be a lot of friendships and happiness.”

“That’s awesome! Let’s meet up for lunch one day. What days/times are good for you?”

“Tomorrow I’m available until 6pm. Sunday I have open availability as well.”

“Tomorrow I’m out-of-town. I could meet you after 4pm on Sunday.”

“Okay, that works for me!”

“Wonderful. I’ll find a place to meet up!”

(I provide my phone number)

So we switch over to texting and I’m feeling a good vibe. I think I like this quirky girl. I set up our first date for noodles and snacks at Dan Dan, the sechuen restuarant where my buddy Nate works as a bartender. She likes the idea and I’m going to meet her there Sunday!

So we’ll see what happens.

 

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Kita – Chapter 32 – Locked and Loaded

“I’m sad about the loss of the nostalgic love I had with him. We’ve obviously grown apart.”

She comes into the salon and as always I’m delighted to see my little China doll.

I’m so fickle. I love so many women. Cherie’s my girlfriend, but I hardly see her due to our schedules. I want to stay with her and I like this arrangement. I’m sure she’s not happy about it, but I like the idea of having a girlfriend that isn’t around much. It just works great for me. Just ‘greatest hits’ and gone. Then back again for more a month later. It’s always glorious to be with Cherie, but I love my freedom to work and be with my friends and my alone time.

I have another gift for Kita. But she starts the conversation first.

“I texted JR.”

I look away and grimace.

“No wait. Let me tell you what happened, Charles.”

“I’m listening.”

“I just asked him how he was doing and he got combative right away. I was like, how are you? and he said, ‘can’t you see on Instagram?’ I don’t follow him on any social media.”

“That’s good. You shouldn’t. Don’t look at that stuff, it’ll make you crazy.”

“So my friend who didn’t know we were broken up asked me why JR is posting all these pictures with some girl that’s not me. I told her we had split and she said the girl isn’t so hot, and it’s his loss.”

“Obviously. You’re beautiful, kind and sweet, Kita. He’s a manipulative idiot that squandered the best person in his life.”

“Thank you, Charles. So he said he moved on because I took up with Steve and that forced him to move on. It really made me mad because I only started talking to Steve because JR was doing what he did for all of last year.” (See her record in my previous post about Kita)

“Exactly. He’s trying to turn it around like you left him and took up with someone from his crappy neighborhood, and he’s butt hurt about it now that he can no longer control you. He abandoned you, Kita. He’s an asshole.”

“Yea, I was just trying to do the adult thing and be civil to him and maybe get some closure, and he started in on me trying to make me feel guilty when that simply isn’t the case. He’s a punk and I’m done with him. Steve was my rebound and I’m done with him too, but I’m not going to talk to JR anymore. The way he behaved on the phone shows me who he really is and even though I’m sad about the loss of the nostalgic love I had with him, we’ve obviously grown apart.”

“You’re correct in your thinking, Kita. You’ve grown out of his juvenile controlling, insecure behavior. He’s a child. You said yourself, you hate boys. I know they suck, but it gets better. TIME takes care of everything. I promise. I’ve been through a lot. Pain and heartbreak is a natural process we all have to go through at some point and it’s how we learn to cope with loss.”

“You’re right. Thank you. Do you have any snacks?”

I go and get my stash. and hand her the box full of cereal bars.

“Mmm… Oatmeal raisin!” She says as she happily bites into the bar.

I love feeding her and taking care of her.

“I have something for you.”

Her lovely eyes light up. “Ooh… what is it?”

I hand her this:

“Ohhh! Awesome! Thank you! My mom is going to be so happy when I tell her you gave me this!”

As she’s reading the instruction on the back of the package, I smile and my mind drifts to an imaginary conversation with her father the Admiral.

“Kita, I don’t know how comfortable I am with my 21 year old daughter hanging around with some middle aged man from a tanning salon. You’re going out to dinner with him and spending an exorbitant amount of time with this man.”

“He’s a dad with a daughter my age who has lived him since she was 18. He gave me this last week. (Shows dad the pepper spray) That’s the first thing he gave his daughter when she came to live in Philly.”

“Approved. Spend all the time you want with him. He sounds like my kinda guy.”

My active and creative mind also cruises into another fantasy sequence…

“Kita. I love you and have strong feelings for you. You know that. The more time you spend with me the more my feelings will grow for you. I know you’re a young woman of great virtue and want to retain your maidenhood. But one day you’ll be skipping through the woods bringing a picnic basket full of goodies to your grandma. I’ll emerge from the darkness and reveal to you the wolf I truly am. (I hand Kita the pepper spray) This… is for that day.”

Funny, right? I’m the one Kita needs to worry about. But all kidding aside. I never operate like that. If she comes to me… When she comes to me, she will do so willingly and yield to me. That’s how it always is in my life. I never take. It’s always handed over to me in mutual celebration.

I dream of that day. I think of her asleep in my arms. I smell her hair as I’m nestled behind her like a spoon. My mind recalling the night before of passionate, searing lovemaking the like she’s never felt.

Back to reality…

“Here let me show you how it works, dear.”

I show her how to hook the unit to her key chain. I hold her dainty hand in mine and guide it to the quick release button to separate the pepper spray unit from the key chain. I then show her how to hold it and how to simply slide the safety to the right to engage the unit.

She’s holding it.

“It’s now armed, Kita. Press down on the trigger and fire it in a horizontal, back and forth motion across the assailants eyes. It will immobilize your attacker and give you time to get away quickly and call 911.”

She presses down on the trigger and the unit shoots a tight stream of the police grade pepper spray 10 feet away at the wall.

“Ooohh! Wow! That really works! Thank you, Charles! I got it. I’m ready!”

“Keep that with you at all times, Kita. You’re only five feet tall. You’re small and someone may think they can take you. You hit them across the eyes with that, and they will be temporarily blinded with searing pain in their eyes and it’ll give you time to get away. I care about you and don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“You’re so amazing, Charles. I’m so glad I met you.”

She grabs me and hugs me. Kissing my face and lips.

I love this. (And hope she never has to use it on me…

Kidding! It’ll be the last thing on her mind if…. WHEN she comes to me.)

We’re making progress…

 

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Cherie – Chapter 53 – Why I’ll Never Marry a Black Man

“Black women and white men aren’t the only diverse duo out there, but it’s something to chat about if you’ve ever been in that type of relationship.”

Aside from the historical separation of black people and white people, there are a few barriers you should get out of the way in the present.

Words from Cherie herself.

I’m never going to marry a black man…

Why would I want to? Why would I commit myself to a lifetime of disappointment and misery? I don’t need a man to ruin my life; I can do that on my own without his help and with much less drama.

I’ve made up my mind to marry a white man because life is too short for you to live it hoping that you’ll find that one in a hundred black men who will be true to his word and won’t turn out to be a deadbeat.

White men are simple. They don’t have mothers from hell who expect you to visit their house so you can cook, clean, kneel and kiss their feet. They have boundaries and understand that marriage means a man leaves his father and mother and becomes one with his wife. Black mothers think marriage means a woman leaves her mother and father and becomes drafted into the family as an indentured slave.

White men are liberated. They don’t feel threatened by their woman earning more or having aspirations. A white man will have dinner ready for you when you come home late from work. He will have the children bathed and put to bed without being asked.
White men are faithful. You can trust that if he’s out late with his friends he’s not going to end the night having acquired a small house. You know that when he dies there won’t be any kids coming out of the woodwork making claims on his estate. White culture values monogamy, whereas black culture puts a premium on how many notches he has on the bed post.

White men value family and financial security. They invest in trust funds and leave an inheritance for their children. And oh the children! The caramel skin, the pretty brown eyes and the big, curly hair… I want gorgeous children! Have you seen those beautiful interracial family photos? I deserve that in my life.

It’s not that I hate black men. It’s that after more than two decades of being in relationships with black men, I’ve gone through enough grief for a lifetime. I want to be happy and for me that means not committing the rest of my life to a black man.

For a long time that’s how I felt about black men and that’s how many young black women feel today. We’ve seen our mothers cry over the hurt of discovering yet another affair and have witnessed them covering up the bruises in makeup. We’ve watched our sisters going down the same path, like history repeating itself. We have borne the wounds ourselves and are left with scars as reminders.

It’s hard to argue with experience when all a person has known is one side of the story. Hurt speaks way louder than platitudes like, ‘There are good black men out there. God has one for you.’ That’s not helpful. What is helpful is looking deeper and exploring why some black women feel like white men are the only viable life partners.

 

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Cherie – Chapter 52 – Happy Birthday

Life has it’s ups and downs. I know Cherie has been struggling with paying for school. But for the most part, I think everything will work out. I know she felt bad about asking me for money but I think that’s behind us now.

I mean, how bad is my life? I like to work. I like being busy and get bored when I’m idle. I enjoy my alone time. But I have an active social life.

All of my past relationships follow a similar path. A traditional path and they all failed in the same way. There was a pattern I was following and it always led to the same failure. So this time I’m doing something different and it’s working perfectly for my mind and lifestyle.

Cherie meets all of the criteria to be in a successful relationship with me. I think I’ve finally found the Rosetta Stone to a happy life with a woman for me.

  1. She’s on the right side of 30. We all know by now I love youth and beauty. I don’t care what anybody thinks about that. If you had the chance to drive an old Subaru or a new Maserati, which would be the obvious choice?
  2. She lives 40 miles away. There’ll be no swinging by, or stopping in. I live in the city and have no reason to own an automobile anymore. So I can’t really get out there to see her. I mean, I could, but where do I stay? She lives with her parents and she has a 6 year old son. Her sister lives there too, and I know there’s a couple of other little ones living there. She can’t bring me into that mix. At least not yet, and I’m fine with that.
  3. I only see her once or twice a month. That’s plenty for me. She’s so busy with work and school and son, there’s very little time to get down here to see me. I don’t need tons of girlfriend time. It’s too emotionally draining for me. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder. I really appreciate our limited time together. I’m not one of these men that needs a woman in his life all of the time. It’s just annoying.
  4. She’s a certified nymphomaniac. What guy doesn’t want this? A hot, young, fit babe that is deadly in the sack. She’s so orgasmic that you always feel like a virile beast when you’re making love to her. I’m not getting any younger and am a former hypersexual myself, so at my age I’m truly blessed to have a young lady who is always horny for me.
  5. She doesn’t want any more children. Okay, this is huge. This has been the deal breaker in my last THREE relationships. Cherie has been a parent for six years. You grow up fast when you have a baby or a small child counting on you for everything and not much assistance. I don’t want any more children, and this could end up being the ideal arrangement for me at last. All of these chicks I’ve been with have been in the same age range and they are still trying to figure out who they are. It’s sad that there’s this ridiculous extended adolescence in this country. But it’s almost always the same model. They go out and party, go out to dinner, go on trips and buy a bunch of designer shit in their twenties all while burning through a string of dudes. Then they finally attach themselves to some sap and marry him. His income helps neutralize and pay down her revolving debt. They get a house, a dog and then kids start happening. In 10 years they’ve either become roommates or divorced and he pays thousands of dollars in child support to her. Hopefully he doesn’t repeat the mistake again. Or… they live happily ever after!

Cherie is the perfect blend of the ingredients that make the perfect romantic cocktail to compliment my lifestyle. I just hope we can maintain this level. After college she’ll have to go to medical school, so for now… there’s no end in sight!

Anyway, I was sitting in Cavanaugh’s last Monday and thankfully realized that Cherie’s birthday was on Friday.

It has been a year since we had her birthday lunch at Misconduct Tavern. Back then I gave her a $20 gift card to Starbucks and some Godiva chocolates. I had only been dating her a month and didn’t want to set the bar too high. I remember her saying all she wanted for her birthday was to have sex with me. A week later we were holed up at the Club Quarters for 24 hours just banging away for the very first time. Man, that was an incredible day. We fucked like rabbits!

So I went to ProFlowers and ordered a dozen long stem roses in a pretty vase and a little box of chocolates for my love. They were delivered to her home and I’m positive she wasn’t expecting them.  So she squealed with delight.

Now I’m the one who owes her some birthday sex!

She’s 28 years old now! Let’s keep this relationship going, Cherie!

 

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Sun Stories: Kita – Chapter 11 – The Day Before Tomorrow – Part II

This baby doesn’t know what real darkness is. It has nothing to do with pigment, melanin or skin color. But I do.

“Anyway….No worries. Happy to help. What are we doing today?

“I want to do a spray and a UV session today! What do most people do?”

“Oh, the double dip today! I won’t recognize you tomorrow!”

“I’ll be dark! I wanna be dark!”

This baby doesn’t know what real darkness is. It has nothing to do with pigment, melanin or skin color. But I do.

Customers are coming and going and it’s getting busier. I just love that’s she’s hanging close to me at the counter. I go and clean beds on the in between, and I love walking back up to the front and she’s just there chatting with clients. They love her and compliment her on her gorgeous tan. She’s loving it and saying she’s pale.

Oh, the irony.

Clients ask about what lotion they should buy and she pipes up and recommends the Tahitian Bronze, because I let her try it one day. It’s the most expensive lotion in the house and she’s selling it to these pale ghosts.

“Yea, I used it and it got me really dark.”

These sheep are looking at this really pretty petite Asian girl with skin like delicious caramel and will do whatever the fuck she says. Kita is a natural and I make a mental note about this for the future.

I tell her normally that women go into the spray tanner and then follow it up with a stand up session to give them a little more and bake on the spray solution.

Kita has made it clear to me that she doesn’t like the stand up units because they have no face tanners. (600 watts of UV ‘A’ rays to brown the face and not burn it because the face is harder to tan than the rest of the body.)

We finally settle on Kita going to Room 2 for a lay down UV first and then to the spray tanning booth for a clear coat level 3. She’s afraid she’ll get too dark with the level 3 so at the last-minute she changes it to the level 2. (Probably a good decision but either way I’m sure she’ll look amazing)

“Can I get a robe?”

I love this. She’s going to UV tan in her favorite bed, number 2 and then wrap herself in one of our little blue robes and walk back to number 8 and jump into the Versaspa spray unit. Just the idea of lovely Kita standing before me in nothing but a little robe and completely naked underneath brings my blood to a boil. But I must refrain from any thoughts or feelings. I’m a professional here. I have three great yelp reviews using my name, and I have to keep my composure around clients even if I have a crush on them.

I’ll be fine.

I send her into room 2 and off she goes. I go about taking care of clients, cleaning beds and doing laundry.

In a little bit she comes out in her little robe. It has no belt on it so she clutches it to her lithe body as she shamelessly approaches me. She was all covered up when she arrived tonight but now I can see her shapely, tan legs. The experience is maddening because of the ironic circumstances. My mind flashes to her wrapped in that robe emerging from my bathroom and joining me for a night of passion in my bedroom.

But only for a second.

“I forget what I’m supposed to do in the spray booth, can you give me a refresher, Charles?”

“Of course. Let’s go to room eight.”

Here is this little doll that I absolutely adore and has gone from top five to my number one standing in front of me in a tiny robe. I tell her where to put the repelling lotion and run through the poses she must do while in the booth to get the best spray tan. I remind her about the hair net she has to wear and send her in.

“Do I need to call out to you Charles when I’m ready?”

My mind goes straight to the gutter.

“No. A green light will come on in the unit and when you’re ready you simply press it and then off you go. The lady’s voice will guide you through the four-minute process. Then all you have to do is stay dry for the next six hours and when you wake up tomorrow you’ll be Malibu Barbie.

“Okay! Thank you!”

“No worries, Kita. Just follow her directions and you’ll be fine!”

I walk back towards the front of the salon as she closes the door. I think of how spectacular she must look as she stands naked in that unit as the spray strikes her glistening fit body. I’m envious of the Versaspa in that moment that it gets to see the very thing I will never see. The heater in the machine will glow red and she will submit to the commands of the voice as she turns to display her nude vessel to the spray that will hopefully make her look the way she believes she should.

I think she’s perfect the ways he is, but she loves to tan, and this is a tanning salon. and I would never have met her if I wasn’t here.

I used to always complain early on in my dating journey on this blog that ‘the wallet never came out’ with all of these middle-aged women I tried dating in the beginning. But if this date happens tomorrow I will gladly shell out whatever’s necessary to feed this little flower and make the night special.

Because her youth, beauty, and sweetness are a gift to me. Just the fact that she hangs at the counter like a pup and listens intently to me to learn about life is satisfactory payment to me. The very notion that this 21-year-old girl will meet me for dinner at a nice restaurant is enough for me. I may even try to do a picture but that is a stretch. Her showing up and just being Kita is a win for my ego.

I thought about her. Phicklephilly loved her from afar and then ran her down and got her to hang out and confess to me her life, and now to go out with me on a date is spectacular. Just for the fact that I can dream something and bring it to fruition at my age.

I know it’s insane but if she said, I’m hung up on JR and I’m dating Steve but if you give me X amount I’ll be your sugarbaby… I would possibly buckle and take some money from my brokerage account and split her like a ripe melon.

But please…. settle down. Not happening. She trusts me. I’m honored by the fact that she trusts me enough to have dinner with me.  My black wings her neatly folded away and iI will be the gentleman I truly am.

 

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