The Breakup
"You know what, Vanessa?" I said with anger, "You have the worst attitude and the nastiest disposition of any person in the history of mankind. I don't need this bullshit in my life. There are countless women out there that would love to go out with me."
She laughed, sarcastically, and said, "Yeah I know. Even when we go out to the club or the movies, you can't help yourself from coming on to them. Maybe one of those skanks is willing to be your trophy girlfriend, but not me. I have this arcane object inside my head called a brain, and that seems to intimidate you."
Man, she knew how to push my buttons. "Coming on to them? More bullshit. It keeps on coming, doesn't it? Vanessa, I can't control what other people do. It is true that other girls flirt with me, but I always end it right then and there. There is no need to feel jealous to the point of rage that you experience. I admit, I can be judgmental sometimes, shallow, and inconsiderate to you. I am not a Saint or perfect, but neither are you."
She wasted no time firing back at me. "I swear, anytime I show any kind of independence, you become annoyed and argumentative. I have the nerve to contradict the great Christian Godspeed! It gets really old, really fast. I am not your goddamn groupie. Yes, you're talented and gifted. Yes, I find you magnetic and charming. Yes, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, but not as a trophy to hang on your mantel."
I was at my wit's end. "Vanessa, this is just not working out. I don't want to be with you anymore. I'll be dead of a heart attack before I'm 45 if we stay together. I'm sick of you, and all of your paranoid schizoid antics. Nice knowing you, I wish you the very best." I stormed out the door to her apartment, 1 million percent certain never to return. I just knew that any second, she would be chasing after me, and begging me to come back after realizing what she was giving up. I already had two or three comebacks in my mind just for this moment. Only, it never was. Incredibly, it was apparent that Vanessa also thought ending the relationship was the best way to go. That bitch! I thought to myself, fuck her, then, I don't need this crap. I'll go where I am wanted.
Whether Vanessa knew it or not, she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever laid eyes on. She was around 5'7" with a tone (but not ripped) physique. Of both Mexican and Ecuadorian descent, she had a tanned complexion all year round. A natural brunette, her hair complemented her tanned skin. I must admit that the first time I met Vanessa, I could not believe how sensual her lips were. They were not too big and puffy, but definitely not average or thin.
Since we worked for the same company, I would see her on a regular basis. My mind would fill with "impure thoughts" of the oral kind. She would act oblivious to my staring and daydreaming, but she was sharp, and aware of any attention passed her way. She knew I was checking her out, and she loved it (at least, that is what she told me later on when we hooked up). If it wasn't her lips driving me crazy, it was her derrière. When she would wear those tight blue jeans, or khaki Capri pants, I would go bonkers! She would wear fullback underwear, what some "gangsta hoes" might deem "granny panties", but I loved them.
Jesus, I am a pig, aren't I?
Her smell was intoxicating. She would take two showers every day, one in the morning and one at night. She would use Irish Spring soap, bar and liquid, for everything except her hair. If you've never used it, Irish Spring has an extremely unique smell, unique but pleasant.
Sex was one of a couple weapons Vanessa had in her arsenal against me. It was also the most powerful one, and she knew it.
The Fuckup
I was at a sports bar on a Saturday night, less than a week after me and Vanessa called it quits. The bar was called Some Place Else. Well, they must have read my mind because going someplace else was the first inclination I had when I walked in the door. The music was shit, the beer was room temperature, and it is hard to hear anyone speak because of the loud scratchy music.
I wasn't alone. One of the women at work, Kathy (or Kat), must have known Vanessa and me broke up because she honed in on me like an eagle. At first, I shrugged off her advances, mainly because I am not a scumbag, and was never unfaithful to any woman in my life. The only thing was, though, Vanessa and I were no longer a couple, technically. So if I wanted to seduce every woman in the world, how can anyone blame me and call me unfaithful?
So, after touching on it in my mind while at Someplace Else, and once I had acquitted myself of one count of First-Degree Planned Casual Fucking While On Temporary Breakup, I was guilt-free (and piss drunk) enough to take my Sidekick-of-the-Night Kathy back home for some late night fun. Kat was more than willing to join me on this adventure, so we took a cab back to my apartment. If you are ever in this situation, whether you're a man or woman, just remember these three words: the spare key.
Once we entered my apartment, and closed the door, Kat and I giggled with excitement, flirting back and forth in the doorway entrance while taking off our shoes. Right after she got her shoes off, Kat unzipped the fly to her jeans, and promptly slid them off to reveal her sexy frame, clad in only a skimpy pink pair of silk panties. Still frozen from Testosterone Shock, I gawked at her body, thinking how I was going to savor every moment with this amazingly sexy woman leaning on me wearing almost nothing.
Just as I was about to get my pants off right there in the doorway, Vanessa pops out from the living room.
