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this is adult themed material most suitable for those 18 years of age or older.  kids under 18-years-old and closed minded adults should not read beyond this warning! 
 
this written material is copyrighted and should not be reproduced for commercial use or monetary gain. 
 
some of the images herein are borrowed with no intentional effort to infringe on existing copyrights of others.

   
 
 
"TRUTH IS STRANGER THAN FICTION"

ONCE UPON A TIME

 

I was recently watching a yogurt commercial that featured 3 actors that starred in a sitcom that was wildly popular back in the day. 

During my time as a mental health professional, I worked with the voluptuous younger sister of one of those actors.  After watching the commercial, I found myself daydreaming about her and the time she and I spent together. 

The actor's younger sibling is a nurse by profession.  RN La Stunner was part of an interdisciplinary treatment team that I chaired.   One of our customers was hospitalized at Uof M Hospital, so she and I had to travel from Mount Clemens to Ann Arbor.  On three separate occasions, I was in a car alone with her for over four hours of our workday and it was pure torture for me. Each time we hit the road, she would wear the shortest dresses she owned and very expensive perfume.  I was forced to look at those gorgeous legs and inhale the scent of a woman with exquisite body chemistry  for what seemed like a lifetime.  As I drove up and down I-94 I fantasized about us alone in a little palm treed hut at the edge of a beach on a tropical island!  I could hardly keep my eyes on the road.  Her legs were beautiful but were her least attractive feature.  RN La Stunner posesses the face of a European depicted angel, almond shaped China blue eyes and a Marilyn Monroeesque body that she manages to this day to keep fit.  Her roots are French Canadian but she stereotypically looks like she could be from the Netherlands.

After 3 trips to Ann Arbor, Mister Wiggles ached to get to know her.  And the feeling between us was mutual. When you put two healthy sexually energetic people that are already attracted to one another in the same place, repeatedly for an extended period of time one of two things usually happens: you either fuck like minks or fall out.  Or not.

 

My experience in Coldwater - living in a virtually all white community - had taught me that having an intimate relationship with a white woman would thrust me into a 'white life'.  Most people want to believe that so called interracial relationship are beset by scorn and continual challenges.  In reality, more often than not the extended families of the parties relent and accept the relationship or simply avoid them.  

Black men (and probably women too) that are accepted into white families attend the family's functions, often live in a neighborhood the woman is comfortable in and become part of the extended family.  I'm sure the same dynamic applies to other families of every ethnicity that are forced to deal with that sort of situation. I am only addressing my experiences and the experiences of other black men I know personally.

Having lived in an all white community and having been faced with the reality of such a cultural take over, I refused to entertain the idea of having a relationship without boundaries with RN La Stunner.  It helped that I was having a tumultuous sexual relationship with another co-worker who was taking out Divorcee's revenge on Mister Wiggles, so instead of fucking I fled. 

Fleeing without leaving some parting gifts had been detrimental to my professional career in the recent past, so having learned from my past, I compromised.  I made no overt moves on RN La Stunner.  I kept it flirtatiously friendly during our dyadic encounters and remained the consummate professional in the work setting.  She wanted me in her life and I wanted to be in hers.  We proceeded with caution least we upset the precariously balancing act that people that lust after one another often engage in.  She invited me to bowl with her in a league sponsored by our employer and I accepted.

The Tender Trap                                         

The league that we bowled in was mainly comprised of co-workers. And like most leagues the better you bowl, the more money you make, at the end of the season, so we hedged our bets by recruiting a 'ringer' that possessed a 160 per game average.

I suck as a bowler and I don't bowl enough to be good at it. I would personally rather bang my head against a cinder block brick wall than bowl three or four nights a week.  I like to win in any situation I'm in, so having a bowler with a good average was a very smart thing to do, so when RN La Stunner suggested that her girlfriend Nurse Mamie Van Hooters bowl with us, I could not say "no".

The first night I waltzed my big black ass into the bowling alley with strawberry blonde RN La Stunner, her two adorable blonde daughters - that would make Adolf Hitler jealous of me- and platinum blond Nurse Mamie Van Hooters who looked, as the name implies, like a low rent version of Mamie Van Doren, people took notice.

Three things worked in my favor.  I'm 6'2" tall, mean as a badger (and it shows) and at the time I was well over 300 pounds.  And as God would have it, about a year prior to joining the league, I had shared a hospital room with the now fully recovered man that owned the bowling alley! He and I had become friendly, during the short time we shared that room at the hospital because bad health humbles even the most cocky and self assured Tony Soprano. And even though he was back to his "fuck with me and they'll never find your body" self, he remembered our time together, was always cordial, when I encountered him and made sure that all the rest of his crew were always polite.

When I informed my supervisor at the time: a 6'6" redneck with alcohol and weed addictions and a hard on for brothas as smart or smarter than he, that I had joined his bowling league, he sarcastically informed me that another black co-worker of ours - 5'5", 140 pound Mac from Pontiac - had been hospitalized after a severe beating he received from some irate patrons of the bowling alley, after a night of bowling, heavy drinking and rubbing elbows with comely white women.  Being the son of Bob O'Bryant that I am, I didn't let the idea of going to prison after a violent "altercation" at a bowling alley in Clinton Township keep me from my commitment to my buxom blonde team mates.

At the end of the season, our team placed in the money.  None of the men that hung around the alley chose to risk becoming permanently disabled; the adolescent Aryan beauties and I had fallen in the purest platonic love that one can only have with children and I developed a previously undiscovered talent: I had become very adept at grabbing those stuffed animals with that little crane with the loose grip, in the alley's 25 cent arcade machine. The little Aryan beauties and my girlfriend's darling children had lots of those cute little stuffed animals provided by yours truly.  A happy ending for all parties involved.  I left Mount Clemens not long after we finished bowling that season for a job in downtown Detroit.     

Spending time with RN La Stunner and bonding with her children titrated our lust and allowed us to avoid the fuck or fight phenomena that afflicts many people in that situation.

My time in Coldwater, Michigan had been a very valuable experience for me.  I learned a lot about people very different while living amongst them.  My cultural education in Coldwater prepared me for working and socializing in Mount Clemens in a way that growing up in Detroit simply could not. 

 

I'm at a point in life where it's relatively safe for me to day dream about lying between the legs of a Nordic Goddess because it's simply one fantasy among a multitude of fantasies that I have about women.  You can read about the rest of them in my novels.

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