Sorry. Wrong Number.

ha.

Trouble. I wasn't just looking for it, I was asking for it...and one night it answered. Or i did.

It was straight out of a scary movie, or a romance novel...only there was no happy ending. Freshman year of college. Major: Stupidity 101. Minor: Hoe behavior.

The screen on my phone flashes brightly, i glance down and, not recognizing the number, press ignore. Then it rings again. And again. And Again. At this point im pretty fucking annoyed. I want whoever it is to stop calling, so I answer.

"who is this?"
"what do u mean who is this? nigga u just called MY phone 50 million times"
"my bad shawty, u aint answer the first time"


long pause....


"Um...so..."
"Sorry, uh...lemme holla at Trish"
"Trish? Sorry, wrong number."
"Oh."

click.


Now...normal people would have just left it at that. But i am obviously not one of the people. So when he called back again...and again...and again, I answered...again, and again, and again. He told me he liked the sound of my voice, and if that deep country drawl of his hadn't made me wet from the very first time I heard it, I wouldn't have given him the time of day. But it did...and I did. He was spittin mad game. Talmbout how it was fate and shit. Of course I got suspicious, but the hoe in me told my logical side to shut the fuck up...and it did.

Fast forward a few days.


Its dark...maybe 3 or 4am. Im driving. I am not nervous or afraid. I should be. I pull into an unpaved driveway surrounded by nothing...woods. A nigga is standing outside in a white tee and some sleep pants. I cut the engine. Cut the lights. He comes up to the window. I see him for the first time. Darkskin, cornrows, the prettiest black eyes I have ever seen, trimmed facial hair, fit, barely taller than me. I get out of my car, leaving my phone behind.

We make a little bit of small talk as he walks me to his "house". And I use that term loosely because it was tiny. One room, the majority of which was taken up by his big ass bed. We sit on the couch and I instantly feel comfortable. I dont know why...four days before I had never heard this nigga before, hell...four MINUTES ago and I had never even seen the nigga. We talk for a while, maybe an hour or so. Eventually we start drinking. That erk and jerk fucked me up that night. And I knew better, shit...I was drunk off my ass off the E&J when I lost my virginity. At that point in my life I didnt really care though...about anything. I knew what I was doing was dangerous, hell...he could have easily killed me that night and NO ONE would have known. I know it was stupid. Eh.

I was fucked up. Fuckin swervin and shit. Of course he told me to go lay down, he didnt want me driving back drunk *rolls eyes*. I was drunk but I knew what was coming. Hell...i would have been disappointed and probably mad as hell if it didnt happen. It was 4 in the morning so I was clearly late night creepin. He knew i was looking for ass, I knew he was looking for ass...and that's exactly what he got.

He gave me one of his shirts to sleep in so I would be more comfortable. I went in the bathroom to change and I remember looking at myself in the mirror. I had this goofy ass smile on my face. Lookin a damn mess...a cute mess, but a mess nonetheless. Smdh. When I came out of the bathroom I had his white tee on...and nothing else.

*cough* okay so this next part is pretty damn explicit. To sum it up, we do the do...if you dont want the nitty gritty, i suggest you dont read it.

I slip in bed beside him. I'm laying on my stomach and I can feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek. I was thinking about how gooooood it felt to cuddle when he asked when the last time I had a massage was *insert eyeroll*. I mumbled something incoherently and he started rubbing my back. My face. My hair. As I started drifting off to sleep he flipped me over and continued with his "massage". Slipping his fingers under the edge of my shirt, his hands caressed my stomach briefly before making contact with my nipples. I was barely aware, I was just...there. He moved in between my legs, grinding. He took my nipple in his mouth, sucking...hard. My hands were on the back of his head, gripping his braids. He moved up, kissing me everywhere. Sucking on my lips, my tongue, my neck, as his hands continued to knead my breasts. I was soooo gone.

His lips returned to my nipple and his hand drifted down, covering my pussy....his finger rapidly rubbing on my clit. We were breathing hard. I started to grind on him, our bodies in perfect sync. My fingers curled around his dick. Hard. Soft. Throbbing in my hand. Perfect. I kept rubbing it, jacking it. Moans filled the room...his or mine, i dont know. I was in ecstasy.

He whispered in my ear..."you wanna see it?". My hand still on his dick as he stood. I managed to rasp out "I wanna see it. I.Want.It." He took his pants off, and it gets a little hazy after that. He got on top of me slid his dick in and out...in...and....out. It felt so good. My hands grasped the bars of the headboard behind me as he manipulated my legs. Heavy breathing. Moaning. Legs splayed, over his shoulders, clutched around him, my knees against my chest. Slowly pumping, slowly grinding...then faster, faster...faster. He flipped me on my stomach.

"Bring that ass up, bring that ass up, bring that fuckin ass up". My hands clutched the pillows in front of me and my knees dug into the matress. Harder. Faster. Harder. The only sounds in the room were the moans emanating from our lips, the wet sound of sex, the grinding of our bodies pressing together, and the slapping of the headboard against the wall. He flipped me over, told me not to run from the dick. I gripped the bars behind my head tightly. My legs wrapped around his. Harder. Faster. Harder. He was shaking, I was shaking. He was cumming, I was cumming. We climaxed together and I almost passed the fuck out. He said, "Whatever you need, whatever you fuckin need..." right before collapsing on top of me.

Still wearing his white tee (sort of) I pushed him aside, grabbed my clothes, the rest of the bottle of E&J on my way out, and bounced.

We talked after that, he wanted a relationship...clearly not realizing that he was just A. Drunken. One. Night. Stand. I started pushing ignore after a few days for reason I choose not to mention in this blog. But not before I cussed him out and handed his ass to him a few times.



Fast-forward a few months...

"Hey...its been a minute, u been dodging my calls?"

brief pause on my end...








"Sorry, wrong number."