My divorce was hitting me really hard. My wife outgrew our relationship and started living her own life and I had a front row seat to everything. My heart and life was upside down. I didn’t go out anymore. Friends and family both told me it was time to get my life back on track and start living my own life again. Push forward! That was the motto. Reluctantly, I decided that it was for the best. I began ways of thinking how I could do that. The idea hit me when I began thinking of things I had never done and wanted to give myself some new experiences. There was a sex club downtown. I had never been.
Fuck it I thought.
When was the last time I tried something for the first time? I wanted to live. I figured I’d try it out. If I got too spooked, my safe word was I’m fucking outta here lol. Besides, if it went great, I’d have the experience of a lifetime. It was settled, I was going to the club.
I wonder if they’ll give me a hard time because I’m black, I thought to myself as I got dressed. I ironed my clothes day dreaming about my adventure. I put on a pair of black skinny jeans, a light blue denim shirt and my favorite pair of Gold Air Max 97s. I even threw on my favorite cologne on, Spicebomb! Oh it was going to be a night. I made sure to stop by the corner store on my way and grab a pack of Trojan Magnum condoms just in case. The thought of having to use condoms again blew my mind and kinda put me in a funk as I drove downtown to the club. Even my favorite songs of the moment couldn’t cheer me up. I almost turned around and went back to the house. But, I persisted. I parked a ways off so I could enjoy the walk. It was a nice night. About 79 degrees and a slight calm breeze. That cheered me up a little. On my little stroll I just began to enjoy my own company. I made corny jokes in my head and laughed out loud about them. I hummed my jams. I was really getting into it when I noticed her. She stepped out of her Jeep. I loved tight black dresses on caramel skin.
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