The Artist, The Fireman, and The Ex....pt. 2

Yeah, the girl Nic has returned. I had to take a little break from blogging to go on my dick-iatus, lol, but I finally have something to report….so I’m back! Sorry it took so long, but I made up my mind not to type anything on blogger until I had something real to talk about. Namely…new dick! (Apologies to anyone who stumbled upon my little blog looking for political insights or quirky social events stories. I’m a self-centered bitch! lol!)

Okay let me first start off by letting y’all know that I didn’t even get any until this weekend March 2nd, in the wee hours of the morning. Last weekend, I punked out, and didn’t call “The Fireman” until I was sure he was safely at work, and I was far away on the other side of the city. I guess, I bitched up for a number of reasons, not just the one listed on my last blog post……….18 years ago ha-ha.

As my abstinence clock was winding down, I started to think about my ex…a lot. I was also worried about how “The Artist” would take it, if I decided to tell him. It may seem weird, but we tell each other everything.

So anyway, on to the details of this weekend. Friday, I came home, and was just exhausted from work. I decided to crash, and pull myself together the next day. Unfortunately I think my nerves got the best of me, because I didn’t get any real good sleep until about 4 or 5 in the morning. Saturday afternoon... it was
All-Systems-Go. I got up, washed my hair in the shower, and plotted on getting the dick, ... without asking for the dick, ... after being scared of the dick for an unreasonable amount of time.

I thought that my Saturday was going to be all planned out. It wasn’t! It ended up being really scattered. Basically I almost punked out AGAIN! I had spoken to “The Artist” Friday, and he was supposed to be out of town in Baltimore doing some producing. Y’all know how I feel about that shit, but I was like shiiiiit, he’ll be one less thing to worry about. “The Fireman” called around 6 and we started up a casual conversation. We decided to go out to get something to eat. So I drove up to his place (about 5 minutes away from my house) and from there we took his car. He let me drive, which is nothing unusual, but it just helped put me at ease for some strange reason. I guess because I felt like I was in control of something. All night long he was telling me how pretty I was and that he loved my hair curly.

Truth is, he’s the only reason I wear my hair that way.

The food was good but I really couldn’t eat a lot. Nerves again! I drove his car back to his place. The conversation was cool until we hit his block. I parked up; he started in again on why I had never given him a chance before, in a relationship or anything else. He asked me what I was scared of and all I could say was,

“I don’t know.”

He just laughs and says, “Well you have to know something Nic.” At this point I’m almost shaking. This is when he asks…point blank, “Why don’t you just let me bite it, and we can see where things go from there.”

Know what I said? “Naw I’m cool.”

Yes, I punked out again. After that…he seemed understandably frustrated. So I just got out and let him walk me over to my car. No long hug, no kiss. I just got in the car and drove away with my angry clitoris. I was not even two blocks away before I was calling my ex, Greg. We talked for a little while. I just needed the familiarity. In my heart I knew that I shouldn’t go back to that dick so after about 15 minutes of a surprisingly good conversation, I got off the phone with him and called “The Artist”. I was mad at myself for leaving F.M. like that but figured that I could console myself with the voice of someone who puts little to no sexual pressure on me, partly because I’m in no way attracted to his ass (and he knows it), and partly due to the fact that I’m in complete control of most aspects in our relationship/association.

When I asked him how Baltimore was, he said that he didn’t even go. He was at the studio, writing or some shit. I told him I’d be through in a few minutes. By the time I got down there (and it was maybe an 8 minute drive) my ass was sore from kicking myself. I was so pissed about throwing away another opportunity to be with the F.M. that I could barely think straight. So after 5 minutes of listening to T.A. complain about the music industry and his shady ass partners who left him in Philly I told him that I had to go. I made up an excuse about having to go get something for my mom to eat, which he didn’t seem to be buying, because it was close to 12 midnight, and left his pitiful looking ass right where I found him. I called the F.M. and told him that I’d be back over shortly.

When I got there he was playing some crazy war game called Call of Duty4. FYI, one of the most realistically violent video games in terms of war scenarios. Anyway we chilled for a minute; he offered me something to drink which I swallowed quickly and happily (vodka ain’t usually my drink, but whatev’s). We watched a little TV, played a few hands of black jack and when I was sufficiently loosened up (tipsy) I let nature take it’s long over due course.

For details on how the “F” went down, come back tomorrow, I’m too tired to type anymore.


Thanks for being patient, love y'all (yeah a girls a little less aggi after she gets some)
Peace