insidesuzyssoul











{July 29, 2011}   Meet Dexter

Life is funny sometimes.
It amazes me when I look back on my life and see how things used to be. At present, the majority of people in my life know me as “Dexter St Jock” or just plain Dexter for short.
This name doesn’t mean anything to my parents. They wouldn’t dream of calling me anything else but the name they gave me at birth. To this day they have no idea why friends call me Dexter. I intend to keep it that way.

For those of you who are not familiar with comedy, Dexter is a character created by the legendary Eddie Murphy.
This character is a West Indian man with great charm and an even greater member in-between his legs. Fellas, you wouldn’t want to leave your woman alone with this man!
From an early age I found this character fascinating and was determined to be just like him. I already had the package downstairs and over time I would attain the charm and gift of the gab.

Every so-called player has his own approach or technique, depending on what you want to call it.
Some guys are real smooth just like a pimp, others play the cool, mysterious type (this works a treat). Myself, I choose to keep it natural. What you see is what you get, a well-mannered guy with a twinkle in his eye. I let my mouth do all the work but I never let the conversation get sexual. I talked to women the way I would a man, as a potential friend.
For some strange reason this seemed to work. The initial opinion a woman had of me would transform immensely. I would go from being a handsome, sweet guy to being drop-dead gorgeous and sexy! It was amazing how a levelheaded conversation could sway a lady sometimes.
In such a short space of time I’ve had more sexual partners than most men have had in their entire lifetime. I’m not claiming it’s something to be proud of rather just stating a fact.
Most men, married or single, are on a mission to seek and destroy; to conquer as many women as possible before they get too old to do so.
Unfortunately, most men don’t have the know how to do just that, so can only dream of it or watch from afar with envy, as other men live out their aspirations for them.

It wasn’t always this easy for me. I wasn’t always known as Dexter: in my early teens. I was known as plain old Leeroy; the chubby cheeked boy with a constant smile on his face.
I was one of those guys who blossomed late. I wasn’t pleasing on the eye according to the girls at my secondary school. As far as they were concerned I was “ugly as fuck”, big spread nose and rubber-lips to match. At that time, mixed-race or light-skinned black boys were the fashion! Having a chocolate complexion only made my situation worse than it already was.
Most people have fond memories of secondary school, not me! All the good-looking, popular boys with bad reputations got all the female attention. I, on the other hand, got constant insults from the opposite sex.
It was odd because the girls I knew from the area I lived in didn’t share the same opinion, they didn’t really find me attractive but they never had a bad word to say about me As far as they were concerned I was as sweet as pie.
If only the girls at school felt the same way, it would have made school a lot more enjoyable to attend.

Things did improve in the last couple of years at secondary school. I began to grow into my looks and after a trip to the States, I gained a brand new air of confidence.
I visited my aunt in West Palm Beach, Florida for two months. During my stay there I was Mr. Popular!
Everybody for at least ten blocks caught wind of the Black, English kid. All the teenagers wanted to know who I was and to be associated with me.
Up to this point, my life had been very boring. I couldn’t believe the fun I was having being the centre of attention.
I didn’t trick these kids by pretending to be something I was not. I didn’t need to; they built a whole new character for me that I went along with. They’d have been stunned to know that back home in the U.K I was the butt of many jokes.
This was the best time of my life up to that point and I consequently didn’t want to go back to London but had no choice. I decided I had to figure out a way to maintain that same feeling back home.

To be honest I didn’t manage to pull it off the way I would have liked, but at least everybody around me acknowledged there was something different about me.
The girls at school began to lighten up on the insults and in due time the jokes stopped. Period.
The girls around the way began to respond differently also. I was no longer just sweet as pie; I was now attractive to boot. This was when my life changed for the better.

A new air of confidence made the difference. A couple of successful fights also helped a great deal. Sometimes being feared was just as effective as being respected.
To cut a long story short, let’s just say that I changed over time to become a nice guy with a bit of a reputation and a few ladies on his arm for effect.

Despite having a few things that most men desire, I’ve never really felt at ease with my life. I guess it’s because I’m always reminded that I could have achieved more with myself. I’m a very intelligent person but with not much to show for it. I’ve done okay for myself financially, but people around me, such as family and close friends, always expected more of me from an academic point of view.
As far as everyone was concerned, I was supposed to do great things with my life, make a difference in the world we live in, stamp my place in human history.
Yes, I have a high IQ but does that mean I have to live out your dreams for you? That was the impression I always got, that I was living for them and not myself.
The grades I got in school were never good enough for the people around me. I was more than capable of getting straight A’s but I was content with doing just enough and receiving B’s with the occasional grade A in there somewhere.
Why should I have pushed myself that extra mile? The work never interested me enough for me to have really exerted myself to that extent.
Its funny, I often wish I had heeded my parents’ advice. I should have pushed myself to the very limit, as it would have been worth it in the long run as I would have been more content with the way my life turned out.
The job I have now pays well but had I pushed myself back then, I would have given myself more opportunities rather than being stuck in a job that I don’t enjoy but can’t really afford to quit.
I shouldn’t really complain as many people are far worse off than I am, but it would have been nice to have been one of those people who looked forward to waking up and going to work.
As for me, on the other hand, I could never wait to exit the building so as to indulge myself in one of the few things I enjoyed and did well: charming the socks (or should I say tights) off women!

There is always a down side to having multiple women in your life. It could be hard to get rid of them when you wanted some ‘alone time.’
As soon as you got rid of one, another one would pop up out of nowhere. Men who have never had the experience of having numerous sex partners will probably be wondering what the problem is. Trust me; no matter who you are, everybody needs time to be by themselves so they can either ponder on previous events that have happened or plan for the future.
Having more than one clingy female didn’t help, but I couldn’t really complain, as I shouldn’t have put myself in that position. Let’s face it, in my early teens I never would have imagined that there could be pit falls to having lots of sexual partners. As far as I was concerned at the time, it was a fantasy that had no flaws. Despite all that, it didn’t stop me from seeking out new girls, sad to say, but at that time in my life I needed variety.
Like the late great rapper Big Pun once said: “I don’t discriminate, I regulate every shade of arse!”
That was me in a nut shell. I couldn’t give a damn where you came from as long as you were attractive it didn’t matter to me.

As time went by I accumulated many aliases, one that was used frequently was the International Playa.
I had always thought this was a slight exaggeration on my pulling power but without realising it, I had managed to lay with girls from all over the world! This wasn’t my intention, just the way it had happened.
There were girls from Brazil, Cuba, Hong Kong, Thailand, Singapore, a handful from Spain, France, Hungary, Italy, Finland, Sweden, Australia and even a white chick from South Africa! How I had pulled that off was beyond me.
It seemed I was quite the globe trotter, my friends were envious and were mystified as to how I had managed it; to be honest so was I.
I never had a game plan, I just did what I did and somehow I always ended up with a result. Whether that was through luck, charm or both, who knows?
The strange thing about this habit of pulling women was that you sometimes needed to be heartless to maintain this lifestyle and avoid any possible drama. Unfortunately for me, I don’t have it in me to be that cold to a female, hence the fact I sometimes had clingy type women on my case.

I’m the type of person who feels embarrassed for other people. If I witness someone else making a fool of themselves, I cringe; I’m not quite sure why.
Having a female beg for just a little of your time can be ego boosting the first couple of times it happens, but as you grow older and begin to mature it becomes annoying.
I would sometimes get the urge to shake these girls like rag dolls and tell them to come to their senses. There wasn’t a man living worth that much hassle, especially not me.
You’re probably wondering if I ever had a relationship anywhere between those exploits of mine. The answer to your question is yes.

I had two relationships during my peak as a so-called playa. I tried my best to make them work and believe it or not, I never strayed once while courting.
I’ll be brief, the first relationship took place when I was seventeen years old, it didn’t last very long although I thought at the time that we stood a chance.
She was stunning, the kind of woman you see in movies. Think of Halle Berry and Beyonce meshed together to make one woman.
Add a little Arab spice and long hair and there you had it: Naomi, seventeen years old and sexy as fuck! Did I forget to mention? She was also rich as hell.
Her money was never an issue with me but as far as my friends were concerned I would have been a fool to let that one slip out of my hands. The good looks and money combination was most men’s dream come true.
We appeared to be perfectly matched but that appeared to be the problem, we were too much alike so we would often clash.
These arguments were stormy to say the least. Damn this girl had a temper. What triggered these famous temper tantrums? 
My reputation.
She was insanely jealous and couldn’t deal with the fact that I had slept with a lot of girls. It didn’t help that there were girls back then scheming to get their hands on me, all because they had heard rumours about my endowment from some chick and had to find out whether or not it was true.
There were many girls that I also considered friends, girls that I had no sexual history with but as far as Naomi was concerned, any bitch I was chatting to meant trouble.
I couldn’t deal with that level of jealously, it was totally uncalled for. There were more important things to me than how good you looked or how much money you had, so we parted company.

Skip about seven years, during that time I had more women in my life, some were one-off flings, others were regular sex partners.
Over that period of time I began to calm down. I was no longer congregating with the boys for wild nights out on the pull and I kept the number of girls I saw down to a minimum. Was I maturing as an adult or just growing tired of my way of life?

One of the girls I would meet on a regular basis was a sweet Oriental girl from Hong Kong called Sam. We met through a mutual friend at a local drink up and continued to see each other for casual sex for the next five months or so.
During the time spent together, we developed feelings for each other and I decided to give a relationship a go. Why not? We were both adults.
Her previous boyfriend had been very controlling and jealous.  I guess she had become accustomed to that kind of behaviour, as my approach to relationships was totally different and this took her by surprise.
I wasn’t usually one for relationships but as far as I was then concerned I’d be damned if any woman was going to change or control me, so why should I have tried to do the same to her?
As long as we were honest with each other we could both do as we pleased. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
Initially she struggled to adapt to that much freedom, such as being able to go out clubbing with friends and not be questioned. I was not her father, so who was I to interrogate her? That was and remains my outlook.
As she adapted to this new relationship, I noticed a change in her, she suddenly began to abuse my trust.
She appeared to mistake my politeness for weakness. Suddenly she seemed to think she could order me about in front of her friends; that was a very bad idea!
Nobody talks to me like I’m a boy, not even my father. He’s well aware that I’m now a man so I would never allow another human being to undermine my status as a proud man.
Her behaviour would often lead to me giving her a tongue-lashing. I tried to drum it into her head that I was fair but no fool, so not to attempt to treat me like one.
As months went by, I began to realise why her ex-boyfriend had kept her in shackles. Clearly this girl didn’t know how to act when given freedom.
I can’t elaborate on how this relationship ended but let’s just say that it wasn’t amicable, there remains to this day a lot of bad blood between us.

So much for relationships. For these very reasons I tried to stay away from them. I thought maybe seeing a large number of women was the only way to go.
Problem was, the more women you had the more problems you got. I decided to keep the number of casual sex partners down to a minimum, just enough variety to keep me happy.
No need to be greedy, I had already been there and done that, it was now all about quality and not quantity although my standard of fuck-buddies had always been high.

As time went on, I became bored of the gals I had. I know it sounds awful but I needed more variety in my life.
My best friend Bentley was now in the position that I once found myself in: too many girls to handle.
He didn’t care though; he’s what you would call a classic playa, “the Predator”. He loves the hunt; he simply can’t help himself.
To think that when we were teenagers he used to judge me for my exploits, he thought I was immoral for what I was doing at the time.
Oh how the tables had turned! I often teased him about his once ‘holier than thou’ attitude to women. Damn, he was self-righteous back in the day!
For some reason or another he didn’t like the idea of me slowing down. It wasn’t like I didn’t have girls at my disposal; it was just that there weren’t as many as before. He would often attempt to persuade me to attend a boys’ night out on the town. I would always decline as it was no longer my scene.
I had always reassured him that my slowing down wasn’t an indication that our friendship was coming to an end. No matter what, he was my boy for life; I would always love and respect him.
That didn’t appear to be good enough for him, as far as he was concerned I was the “Pimp Daddy”, the International Playa, for me not to be the number one ladies man didn’t seem right and made him feel uncomfortable.

One time at his house he introduced me the so-called joys of Internet dating. He tried to convince me that this was the way of the future.
Expensive nights out in clubs on the prowl were no longer essential to get want you wanted. The Internet provided everything.
He did a pretty good job of convincing me too. He was a member of a site much similar to Myspace but not on such a big scale. It wasn’t specifically for dating but that didn’t stop him.
His inbox was full of messages from pretty ladies wanting to meet him. His profile was well crafted; pictures of him in his flashy sports car served him well. Girls really did love cars and money after all.
Many of these girls lived abroad, Germany and Tunisia to name a few. Bentley was flash but he didn’t have a private jet at his disposal.

There was one girl that he was determined to meet; she was called Tiffany, a model from Jamaica. When I viewed the pictures on her profile, I could understand why my friend was so eager to meet her.
She was a stunner. Bentley liked the fact that my jaw dropped at the very sight of this girl’s beauty. 
At that point I was no longer sceptical of meeting people online.
Tiffany appeared to share his eagerness to meet. She said that she would be visiting London for work purposes and would love to meet up with him during her stay.
I knew my friend had pulling power but I never knew he was this good. He had already met a handful of girls in his network, but this one would end up being the prize of all prizes.

Over the next couple of days he began to receive messages from other men, some he knew and some he didn’t, warning him that he shouldn’t meet with Tiffany as she was actually born a “he”.
Bentley brushed this off as jealously. As far as he was concerned they were just jealous that he had succeeded where they had all failed.
I advised him to be cautious. Why would they have all made such an effort to inform him of this, if there were no truth behind it?  It was clear to see they had had some kind of contact with this person in the past as she appeared in all of their networks.
At that point his ears pricked up. I guess he needed to hear it from someone he held in high esteem rather than from a complete stranger or an associate that he didn’t really care for.
He wasn’t quite sure how he was going to ask such a difficult question. After all, any genuine woman would be insulted by such an insinuation that they could possibly be a man. That would definitely squash any chance of a potential meet.
Luckily for my friend he didn’t have to worry. Fortunately for him someone had posted a blog featuring stark naked full frontal pictures of Tiffany.
Yes indeed, this was a dude with very heavy equipment; the kind of tools any male porn star would be proud of!
Bentley didn’t seem too fazed by this. He said that she/he was just one person of many; there were many more fish in the sea.
I tried to tell him that this was nothing more than pure luck and if he didn’t believe me, that I would personally join a similar site to put my theory to the test.

A few days passed. This whole Internet business was the last thing on my mind; I did have a life after all!
When I had some time on my hands I thought I might as well run a search engine for similar sites. The results I came up with were unexpected. Rather than regular dating and networking sites, it gave me a list of popular swinging sites. Although these sites were much more in your face and full on than the site Bentley was a member of, the premise was all the same.
I chose the most popular site. Like most sites they claim to be totally free but once you sign up you come crashing down to earth really quickly.
In order to contact anyone you have to pay a fee. I thought why the hell not? It was not like I couldn’t afford it.
I quickly paid for a gold membership on my credit card and began to create my profile.
After witnessing the success that Bentley had had with his profile I was well aware I had to create a profile that was eye catching. I’m all about words, posing for a picture in a fancy car just wouldn’t represent my personality.
I wrote a detailed and honest profile and added a few modest pictures. Profiles without pictures often get passed by, so beware if you choose to go this route. I made my preference clear: I wanted to meet single women for no-strings-attached fun. I would also consider couples should they be interested.
I had never been in a threesome with a couple before but thought what the hell! I didn’t actually believe I’d receive that much interest anyway.
Much to my surprise it wasn’t long before I received a whole bunch of messages in my inbox. None of the people in question were my type as such, but nevertheless I had responses.
One email was from a gay male, how he figured we were a possible match was beyond me!  What I would come to find in due time was that some people don’t care what you want; they’ll force themselves on you regardless. I guess this is how it feels for women when they’re pestered by unattractive men.
As time went by I amazed myself. Was I really this appealing to the swingers of the world? It felt odd to turn away potential meets but I wasn’t going to meet just because they were chasing me.
Initially this was a quest to prove to my good friend that the Internet was no place to meet women. It had now gone way beyond that and had turned into my own little platform for meeting women.
It was hard for me to believe how addicted I had become. I had always presumed that only men who couldn’t pull in the real world wasted time with sites like this.
Here I was, a man who had had trouble getting rid of women, surfing the net engaging in this new found world of swinging.
I wasn’t focusing on the meets as such, not to say I would turn them down if the right person came along, but it seemed every person I came into contact with had a story to tell.

These people seemed to have wild sex lives, way more exciting than mine and to think that so many dudes I knew envied me for the number of women I’ve had in my time!
These people were engaging in the kind of sex you only see in porn movies. This wasn’t fantasy for them it was their reality.
I thought I’d seen and done it all but clearly not. This was my chance to sample the things that most people could only dream about.

This site I had joined had many features: blogs, sex workshops, magazines etc. One thing that caught my eye was the most popular list. As you can guess, it had categories for single women, single men, couples and even TV’s.
I would often check out the most popular women’s chart. Damn! There were some gorgeous ladies in this list but most of them were in America. It was more than likely they wouldn’t be interested in me even if they were only two blocks away but it would have been nice to have had the option to write to them even if there was even a slight possibility.
I never did check out the men’s list. I’m neither gay nor bi curious/sexual so I didn’t see the need to.
One day something hit me, maybe I should check out the competition and see what they brought to the table that made them so popular?
To my surprise I was in the top ten! I thought I must have been seeing things, but I wasn’t.
There had to be some kind of explanation for this, maybe there had been a glitch with the site or something. I thought I’d give it a couple of days to see if the site resumed to normal status.
Sure enough, a couple of days later there I still was, I had now leap-frogged into the top five, this was incredible! I had never anticipated, even in my wildest dreams, that I could be so popular, especially since I had yet to meet anyone from the site.
I had been receiving a lot of emails but presumed that others would have had ten times as much in their inbox. There were many men whom I considered to be way more attractive than myself on this site, so I thought I couldn’t be any competition.
I noticed that the guys above me were all gay with very full on profiles. These guys were no joke; they all had plenty of testimonials from other men they had met.
In fact everyone in the top ten other than me had a minimum of five testimonials from people they had actually met and had had fun with.

I guessed that was the next step, to actually take the plunge and meet somebody. I couldn’t believe how nervous the prospect of a meet made me. I had been with untold women in my short life but somehow these people intimidated the hell out of me, I was clearly a rookie amongst professionals.
My first meet was with a woman who went by the name of Karen; her handle on scene was Candygirl. She was an attractive brunette, thirty years of age living in East London.
She had messaged me a few days previously but I didn’t have the courage to agree to a date. She came across as very sexually aggressive and made sure to tell me that she would give my black cock a right seeing to when she saw me. I wasn’t sure what this meant but by swinging terms it could have meant anything.
She was married but had a single female profile. Her husband approved of her playing solo as long as he got to hear all the juicy details of her sex encounters; true sex stories made him horny apparently!  What ever floats your boat, hey?
We agreed to meet each other during the week. She had kids but they would be at school when I made my visit.
I made my way to the address she gave via public transport. As I left the bus at the appropriate stop I could feel the eagles swooping about in my stomach.
As I made a turn down her street, it got worse. If I’m totally honest, I thought I was going to shit myself for real. Any second now I was about to embarrass myself big time.
I looked around for a public toilet. I was never the type to use one of these things but my arse was about to explode, I couldn’t see one.
The only choice I had was to make my way to her house and ask to use her toilet; hardly a great first impression but I didn’t have a choice. There was no way my bowels would hold out much longer.
I made my way to door number 19. As soon as I knocked on the door it suddenly stopped; the bowel movement, the eagles suddenly disappeared! What the hell was going on?
I’m usually the epitome of cool when it comes to the opposite sex and there I stood a bag of nerves but once I reached my destination I was myself again. How odd!
I was very pleased with what I saw before me, she looked good in her pictures but way better in person. She had on a lace outfit, which didn’t leave much to the imagination but I wasn’t about to complain.
I was surprised that she opened the door dressed like that. What if the neighbours saw? It wasn’t my problem after all, that was for her and the husband to deal with.
She invited me in and led me to the living area; she quickly offered me a drink. This was all very normal, not at all what I had expected.
She came back from the kitchen with my fruit juice and sat beside me. We must have engaged in small talk for around ten minutes before she made it very clear we weren’t there to talk!
“Excuse me”
With that said she began to rub my crotch and kiss me. Her lace outfit was crotch less. I wonder why?
I didn’t waste any time laying her back and putting my tongue to work. I had nothing to be scared of at all, this was just like regular casual sex with the exception that we had met online and didn’t know each other at all.
I was down there for quite some time. She wasn’t complaining at all but wasn’t content with just a tongue. She wanted dick and I was more than willing to give it to her. I found her extremely sexy and didn’t want to waste any more time.
She led me upstairs to the bedroom, we undressed and you can guess the rest.

Usually sex with someone you have just met isn’t great, it usually takes a while to get to know their body and what makes them feel good.
In this case the sex was great, although we did have time on our hands. I arrived at her place just after 9.30 am and didn’t leave till after 2pm, so we were at it for a while.

We met a few more times after that but she suddenly began to get a little bit too personal. I saw signs of her developing feelings for me, which was out of the question. Yes I found her attractive but I had never agreed to anything more than what we had first arranged.
She asked for me to be her regular. I refused.  I didn’t think it was a good idea, as I couldn’t see anything good coming of it. I had presumed, wrongly in this instance, that this woman was an experienced swinger and didn’t allow emotions to get in the way.
I was the only guy on scene she had met more than once for sex. I didn’t see this as a problem as she was married, but I could sense trouble ahead so I bailed out with the quickness.

I managed to encounter a few more women on scene. Some were women with cuckold husbands; others were young girls looking in the wrong places for love. It seemed the scene wasn’t all what it was cracked up to be after all.
Very few women, with whom I came into contact, embodied the true spirit of swinging: the type of women who live for the moment and have no hang-ups whatsoever. The type of women that didn’t have time for emotional attachment, the kind of women that would kick you out as soon as she’d done fucking the shit out of you.

There was this one woman who fitted the profile perfectly. She was a white lady in her late thirties, from the outskirts of London who had a cuckold husband.
Her profile stated clearly that she preferred black men although men of all races were welcome as long as they were toned and well endowed. She ran an online sex store from the comforts of her home, whips, chains, dildos; the works. This was the kind of woman I had expected to meet from the very beginning.
We spoke often on the phone, we had garnered a good rapport with each other but unfortunately what I later learned unsettled me greatly.
She told me that her husband was very ill and unable to have sex. Now many people reading this would ask me what the problem was as I already knew they were a cuckold couple.
Many men from cuckold couples are more than capable of having sex, they just choose not to as they maybe submissive sexually or just voyeurs.
The fact that this man was extremely ill; he was in and out of hospital on a regular basis didn’t sit well with me. This made me wonder how she found the time to meet strangers for sex with a sick husband and three kids to look after.
Yes, this woman fitted the mould of a classic freaky swinger that I had been searching for, but I didn’t fancy shagging the shit out of a woman while her husband watched; not because he wanted to but because he didn’t have a choice.
We never did meet, it seemed sex was a definite prospect but I guess our conversations killed that possibility. That’s what I got for being a chatterbox, too much information received.

The next lady in question would open my eyes drastically. Her name was Suzy; a sexy Latino lady who also had an appetite for black men.
Unlike many other women who single out the brothas she actually requested for only West Indian men to contact her. A lot of women who are not black are ignorant to the fact that we are not all the same.
This lady was well aware that black people didn’t all come from the exact same place, that there were visible cultural differences within the race.
It was funny because initially I was sceptical about messaging her, she had a face picture on her profile, which I thought was bold and risky for any woman to do.
The picture displayed what I can only describe as a “ghetto fabulous” woman, huge hoop earrings and a scowl that exuded attitude.
Not that there is anything wrong with being ghetto fabulous, but it is not such an attractive trait for a so-called professional woman in her mid thirties. Despite this we exchanged personal IM addresses.
Our first chat online was hardly a conversation, in fact I recall nothing more than a sentence from her. She quickly invited me to view her cam.
I accepted, presuming her intention was to prove to me she was a genuine woman, but what I got was a full on web cam show.
Let’s just say all I could see was wet pussy and litres of ejaculating fluid. Was I supposed to be impressed by this?
It became pretty obvious that I wasn’t the only guy viewing the display. Unfortunately for her I had other options, unlike the other prats that were egging her on.
It wasn’t long before I stopped viewing her cam and logged out of IM without saying goodbye. I wasn’t about to pamper this woman’s ego. I’m not the type to wank over a cam show. Why should I when I have a healthy sex life? I decided I wouldn’t be saying hello to this woman anytime soon.

A couple days later, whilst I was on IM her name popped up online. I didn’t message her as I didn’t have anything to say.
After five minutes or so she messaged me to say hello. It became clear she was waiting for me to say hello first but realised it just wasn’t going to happen.
I’m sure as a genuine woman on scene, the moment your name appears on IM every man online jumps to say hello; not this nigga!
She asked me where I had disappeared to the other night. I told her that what she had been doing wasn’t my cup of tea so I logged out. I didn’t see any point in not telling the truth.
She seemed surprised by this response but nevertheless embarked on a normal conversation. We chatted for an hour or so about work and life in general. She told me she had two daughters from her previous  marriage and now that she was free she was working the circuit to find out what she had been missing whilst being married.
That was fair enough. At least I knew I had a grasp of a real human being rather than just a wet pussy on a screen. Now we were getting somewhere.
Sex is sex, but I needed to know something about the person I intended to sleep with. If you have no information then you never know what you could be getting yourself into. Although our conversation was light-hearted, I wasn’t totally convinced by this woman. The previous two women had had something for me to consider and I wasn’t sure Suzy hadn’t either; although she gave the impression she had no hang-ups.
A couple of months and many IM conversations later, as we had yet to establish whether we would ever meet, Suzy would often suggest a date and I’d always find an excuse.
Eventually Suzy asked why we had yet to exchange numbers. She suggested that we chatted on the phone, as it was easier to communicate with voice rather than words on a screen. I agreed with her that this was a valid point and I made a decision to call her later on that day. I had just finished work when I decided to call her. The phone rang a couple of times before she picked up the call. To my surprise this well-spoken woman answered the phone.
This was not what I had expected at all.  I had anticipated a feisty Latino chick with street slang; this woman was damn near posh as fuck.
Her voice so didn’t fit with the face picture she had displayed on her profile. As a young black English male, I, of all people, should have known better than to judge a book by its cover.
We had a wonderful conversation, it was like we had known each other for ages; our common love for a certain female recording artist only added to the obvious chemistry we had.
I couldn’t believe I had been such a fool to second-guess this lady. Not only was she attractive but she also had a vibe that I found irresistible. For some reason I still stalled on a meet, but eventually agreed at short notice to meet at her place after she had challenged me.
She rang me on a Sunday to say that her kids were at their father’s and I should come around if I wasn’t scared. This was a good tactic on her behalf, as I couldn’t resist proving her wrong.
I made my way to her home with two bottles of Alize in hand. Suzy greeted me at the front door looking cute as hell. I was very pleased that she had persuaded me to join her that night.
We sat down on her living room couch with a couple of drinks and proceeded to chat,  the conversation was running smoothly.  Suddenly she just grabbed my face and shoved her tongue down my throat.
This was not a bad thing at all but previously in many talks online she had repeatedly told me that she didn’t like to kiss and would rebuff any man who tried to lay his lips on her as it was too personal.
Here she was snogging my face off which I found quite odd, it wasn’t long before we were groping and sucking but believe it or not we didn’t have sex that night. For some reason it didn’t seem appropriate.
It was as if we forgotten why we had met in the first place. We had clearly made some kind of connection beyond sex and were content with chatting the whole night through.
The next morning we did eventually have sex despite the fact we were knackered from not having slept all night. A swollen penis and throbbing pussy had to be attended to.

We both had other casual sex partners but continued to see each other on a regular basis. It was pretty clear that we had put each other on the top of our fuck buddy lists.

Prior to meeting Suzy, my favourite female was a twenty-two year old lady called Ansu from Finland. She was an absolute stunner with the sweetest personality. I was now beginning to see less and less of her as my visits to Suzy’s house became more regular. Ansu didn’t really like this arrangement but couldn’t complain as she also had her own boyfriend to consider. I liked Ansu a great deal and would often go out of my way for her but the fact she had a boyfriend who was suspicious of her actions didn’t exactly help the situation.
It wasn’t like we could hook up whenever we got the urge; she had to plan carefully in order not to get caught out.

Suzy didn’t have a partner; just casual fuck buddies although I often wondered whether they all came to her house. That wouldn’t have made a good impression on her daughters if they were forced to witness different black guys whizzing in and out of their home.
She reassured me that wasn’t the case, as I was the only regular male face that came into the house. If she met anyone else it would have been at his or her pad. I didn’t want special treatment by any means but I’d be damned if I would contribute to an unstable environment. I would rather walk away before let that happen.

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