Monique and I met through a dating chat line during the hot sticky days of the summer of 2000. We had dated for a few months thereafter until I moved to the east coast in late autumn of that same year. When we first met, I told her I was expecting to move in a few months, so we had decided to just have a casual relationship.
Monique was a stunning, thick Jamaican goddess, about 5'9", 160 with dark brown skin that was silky smooth. She had marvelous, big, juicy breasts that overflowed from any shirt or blouse that tried to contain them. Her giant oversized nipples were extra sensitive and she had a very nice curvy, phat butt that drove me wild when she shook it. She was my first black lover, and the best lover I ever had.
I had had some great sex in my time, but the sex between Monique and I was on a whole other playing field. We took each other to places I never thought possible. She was at her best when she on top, taking complete control over me, and rocking her full, phat hips over my cock like no other woman had before. She even made me have multiple orgasms one day, but that is a story for another time.
She was extremely expressive when we fucked. When I brought her to orgasm, her entire body would intensely convulse and quiver, as she moaned deeply followed by high whimpering cries. She would have multiple orgasms as well, which only turned me on more. I have never been so satisfied seeing a woman have an orgasm, knowing that I was driving her just as wild as she drove me. That is why Monique and I had such great sex…we never held anything back from each other. We were both completely expressive in displaying the great pleasure we were providing each other with.
We eventually began to develop serious feelings for each other, and because we had become so close, we both knew it would be difficult when we had to part ways. I really cared for her and wanted to keep in touch with her after I moved, whether it be as friends or as long distance lovers with a hope of making the relationship work.
Apparently she didn't see it that way, because just a couple of weeks before the move, she suddenly and irrationally broke it off without any explanation what-so-ever. I suppose it was just her way of disassociating in order to avoid the pain of losing what we had. We lost contact with each other after that.
A few months later in the spring of 2001, I wrote her, telling her how much I missed our time together, and that I still wanted to be friends with her. I wasn't sure if I would get a response back, because for all I knew, she may not have even lived at the same address anymore. Weeks went by, and then one day I answered the phone, and heard her lovely, sweet voice on the other end of the line. I was elated! Her voice had never sounded so sweet…like that of an angel. She told me how sorry she was for how she treated me, and said she had regretted it ever since. She said she was just so afraid of getting hurt, and it was the only way she knew how to deal with it at the time. We kept in contact through letters and an occasional call, and became very close again, but we both agreed to stay friends though, because of the distance between us.
Come that December, I was planning on making a trip back to the Midwest so that I could spend Christmas with my friends and family. It had been a few weeks since I talked with Monique because she was in the process of moving from her apartment in the city into a much nicer suburban neighborhood. At the time of my arrival back home, I had her new address, but not her new phone number, and I had misplaced her cell number. I flew out, so I had to rely on others for transportation, and her new place was far out of the away from any of my friends' homes. Since I could not call her, I had no choice but to try a catch her at home.
So one day when coming back from a family outing, I had my brother drive me by her apartment to see if she was there, and if she was, I was would stay with her for the day. When I knocked on her door there was no answer. This was probably going to be my only chance at seeing her; for I would be going back east in a couple of days. So I waited for about five minutes just to make sure she wasn't home. When no one came to the door, I was extremely disappointed at the thought of not getting to spend time with her. My only option left was to leave a message for her at the doormat and hope she would get it. So I left her a Christmas gift wrapped in a bag with a note telling her I was in town for a couple more days, and that she could call me at my friend's house.