Unleashed: The True Story of a Recovering Serial Monogamist


My Weekend at the Splay-ground

Part I (Saturday)

After spending Saturday night with James Earl watching boxing, drinking good wine, and f#c&i%g, I slept at his place until 6:00am. At that time I insisted I had to go home. I’m pretty glad that he wasn’t at my place – it would have been a bit more challenging kicking him out. A benefit of sleeping at a guy’s place is that you can leave whenever you want, and I couldn’t leave fast enough. I wasn’t sleeping well there (I sleep poorly to begin with, but this was ridiculous), and there was just something off about the whole thing (red flag).

 

I’m still not entirely sure what his story is, but he had asked me earlier in the day if I could spot him some money. Further, he had joked about me paying for our wine that we had shared… I’m all for fairness and equality, but seriously? I’m spending time with you because you portray yourself as an attractive, successful businessman. Having the lady pay the bill does not bode well. And anyway, I have almost never had to pay for my own drinks (oh, the benefits of being a pretty girl) – why should I start now?

 

I am a traditionalist, but I’m also looking out for myself, so the night before, we had been chatting about a possible pere de sucre (a.k.a. Sugar Daddy) situation… I proposed it for several reasons, one of which was as a test based on his previous actions.

 

But we’ll see. I’m a cynical person – I don’t believe anything until I see it with my own two pretty little eyes. That and I don’t have a lot of patience when there is no follow-through on promises. And by saying “not a lot of patience,” I mean NONE.

 

I digress; I had gone into this situation with no expectations, nothing but sheer curiosity as to what it is like to sleep with a black man. I have heard about the rumors of size, and as I’m sure we have all heard, “once you go black, you never go back.” Further, a black man was on my Bucket List – who was I to discriminate? Scientific theories must be tested and duplicated in order to be proven true.

 

My reaction: Size was nice (width and girth both), but his style and rhythm didn’t work for me. Not enough softness, tenderness, and force. There simply wasn’t enough focus, time, or attention spent on the inside of my legs…the crook of my neck…pulling my hair.

 

I just didn’t get that tingling up and down the spine that I deserve and demand, and ladies, remember Golden Rule #1: You get what you demand.

 

It was mediocre, and thus, disappointing. Perhaps I had set my hopes too high. I had also heard that in the black culture, going down on men and women is not widely performed (I don’t mean to generalize, so can anyone volunteer some information on that subject?), and while JE did so, he didn’t do terribly well at it, and additionally, it was for such a short amount of time that it truly wasn’t worth it. I’d have rather he not started it at all… After all, if you’re going to “eat out,” don’t skimp. I give as well as I get, but ladies first.

 

In essence, though James Earl was nowhere near one of the worst I’ve experienced (e.g. Jackhammer Man – yes, seriously), he wasn’t one of the best either (the guy who deserves that award, so far, literally tossed me in the air across to the bed and deep-breathed with me through exceptionally slow, torturous, and intense moments)… yummm. Hold on, I need a moment…

 

Amalie Paris


Comments

One Response to “Unleashed: The True Story of a Recovering Serial Monogamist”
  1. Amalie Paris says:

    If you guys want an update on any of these lovely characters, let me know – the backstories (and where we are now) are pretty juicy!

    Just ask me on Twitter @AmalieParis or on my facebook (Amalie Paris).

    See you there and thanks for reading!

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