Sometimes a girl just wants her man to know her, show he wants her, and not that he doesn't love her, but a true appreciation through being wanted, as a lot of guys wonder why women move the way they do when it comes to insecurities in that realm.
"I feel sometimes I'm neglected," I remembered telling Stanley one evening in 2019, as I brought lunch to him while he worked an overnight shift at the shipyard."
"Babe, I bust my ass out here so we can live good. You bringing me fried chicken doesn't necessarily circumvent life right now," he said.
Stanley without a doubt made sure this family of ours was good, for we share three daughters ranging in ages 10 to 15, and can be a handful, and his salary was a sure bet to ensure that I didn't lift a finger, despite a masters in marketing. Stanley also forgot that in addition to tending to three mini-me's, I did the normal chores of a den mother from laundry, cooking, cleaning and everything else in between, to add me sucking his cock whenever he needed, or didn't need it, which was every night. In bed there were times I wouldn't even get naked, as he just wanted his thing played with, as he'd say. I wasn't too keen on my body anyway, and he for sure wasn't as he was pre-second pregnancy, and I wasn't as fat as much as having Tennessee black girl genes, as we southern women can be quite curvy in what most black men would consider all the right places. That night in 2019 I wouldn't go straight home as I knew the girls were safe, but ventured into downtown Portsmouth, not too far from where the hubby made a living as a pipefitter supervisor. I found a bar that I thought closed long ago, but then parked out front and went inside to notice it was packed, a mixed crowd of young and old, different races. It was a good vibe from the door and so I found me a seat at a booth not too far from the actual bar counter.
"Hey girl, I'm Alissa, and I'll be your waitress for the evening. Can I get you something to drink," she asked.
Alissa, who might've been no more than 25, was a gorgeous, slender light skinned Latina with a sexy gap in her mouth, and the perfect, little frame. I looked her up and down and she stood strong, still smiling as she waited patiently for my order.
"Girl, you are so pretty," I said to her. "Vodka and pineapple juice will do the trick tonight."
I hadn't drank in years, as I wasn't necessarily trying to be sober, but just watching calories in the wake of looking slimmer for Stanley. She came with that drink and then took my food order, as I craved crab dip and ordered such off the menu. She took my menu and I watched her walk away, with me watching her strong calves work those heels and that firm butt moving side to side in her skirt. I actually caught a hot flash from eyeing an old reflection of myself, thinking about how when Stanley met me, I was shaped just like her. She left my view and I just tapped my Reeboks to the music, when a tall, slender, dark drink of water came to the booth.
"You mind if I sit," he asked.
This guy looked like he was a professional basketball player, standing every bit of six foot six or better, with wide shoulders, eyes and grin to match over his thick beard. In my mind I wanted to say no, but my body said yes, and so I returned the smile and pointed to the seat.
"I saw you come in here," he said lowly.
"Oh, so you're a stalker," I asked as I took a sip of my drink.
"Not exactly. I'm more of a guy who witnesses and acknowledges beauty," he said to me, as that made me smile. "Baby, I'm Terry. What's yours?"
"Shauna, and thank you," I said to him as I couldn't keep my eyes off of his.
