So there's this security guard at my job. He's a cute lil white boy, a lil too thin for my initial liking, but cute nonetheless. I'm always joking with my friends that my next boyfriend is going to be white but he's married y'all! Now, Ms. Chelle don't want to break up any happy homes. I mean, that was more of my mom's kind of thing- not mine. So instead I decided to engage in some harmless flirting with him and he happily flirted back.
Now this has been going on for a looooooong time. He started working at other job sites for a while but eventually came back to my job. We hugged and I asked where he's been and all that jazz. T-Dub was in the house and he told ( I'm going to give him a nickname- Top Flight) Top Flight that I had a white boyfriend the other weekend. (I'll blog about that later- maybe. It was kinda risque and I would hate to dim your opinion of me) Once T-Dub left, Top Flight asked me why I was cheating on him.
"Excuse ME?"
"You heard me, you got another white boyfriend? I see how you do,"
"Umm, number 1: He lives in Detroit, so I doubt I'll see him again. Number 2: You're married- it ain't none of your damn business. Nothing's gonna happen, I don't break up happy homes"
"It ain't a happy home" Tell that to the next chick, I said to myself.
We're still flirting, sexual innuendos flying back and forth, and before I know it- it's time for me to go home. We say our farewells and thats that. Tell my why (and to my girl K, you don't even have to feel bad because I didn't even take my own advice) after feeling restless around 2 am, I start to text him? WHY?!? I've never text him nor call him before- why did I begin that night? At the time it seemed like a harmless idea. Most of my friends are in the bed by 11 (when I'm just getting off of work) and I only knew of 2 people who would be up. Top Flight got a message from me that read, "What R U wearin?"
"Ur fave- handcuffs & boxers" I had to "LOL :)" at that response.Most cliche saying in the book- so why did I get a lil fuzzy when he said that? Damn dry spell. The next day I confided in the wise one- also known as Trina. What did she have to say about it?
"so whats up b/n me & u"
"whatcha mean? aint u married?"
"here we go again"
"u like me for real? i thought we were just playin"
"naw"
"and how long have u felt this way?"
"i've always liked u."
"Is the wife white?"So fast forward to the next time he works my site (one week later) I called him in to help me pass out some reciepts. We're walking down the hall and he pulls me to the side and proceeds to kiss me- with tongue.
"Yea"
"So? Look, white women have been coming between black marriages and couples for years. Do it for the sistas."
"The sistas? Like Bernie? From Waiting to Exhale?" I'm looking at her a bit in confusion and wonderment.
"Exactly. Chelle, you know you ain't right, right?"
"It's something I've been told from time to time."
"Whoa! Where did that come from?" I asked him. I really wasn't expecting that- but that aggressiveness was a turn-ON.I gotta rethink this white boy boyfriend thing, because even though the kiss was nice- it would have been even nicer if I didn't have to taste his moustache. All my kissing techniques were developed and mastered with guys who have nice juicy lips. I mean- not like big soup coolers- but they were a nice size. This guy's top lip is so thin, he HAD to kiss with tongue. lmao. That wasn't nice Chelle.
"Same place this came from" and we're kissing AGAIN.
Terry says I shouldn't do it, and he's speaking from personal experience. I know that, more than likely, things will not be taken to a sexual level. At least not a full on sexual level.
****UPDATED****
Dammit, Terry is right. It is harder to engage in an affair when you've put a face to the "wife" And I've put words together with the "wife" as well, thanks to a little invention called Facebook. Chile, I am too through!
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