Chapter One
So we remained friends. We agreed to meet to do “fun things” together, like hit bars, restaurants and gigs. I’d see Jessica every couple of weeks. My plan was to take her out, pamper her and make her laugh, and eventually make her realise that I was the man for her.
However, it seemed that each time I saw her she seemed more distant and distracted than the last. On two or three occasions I realised she was not even listening to what I was saying. She seemed more interested in her phone, or even talking to strangers in the bars we visited. As we weren’t a couple, I couldn’t even object.
I took her to see Leonard Cohen at Radio City and it was the most embarrassing night of my life. The bitch was constantly checking her phone, the light visible to all in the darkened auditorium. In the end it was Cohen himself who’d had enough. He stopped a song intro, pointed directly at me and said “Hey, please turn off your phone buddy”
They say Cohen didn’t have great eyesight in his later years, and I guess that’s the only explanation for him saying “buddy”. Anyhow, the entire fucking theatre burst into applause at his words. Suddenly there I was, in close-up, on the big screen that was relaying the concert. Jessica found it hilarious, of course, you can see her laughing at my shame. The concert is widely available on YouTube if you want to see the bitch’s reaction first-hand.
To be blunt, I was pissed. I was spending a fortune. I wasn’t “winning her back”. In fact, became clear to me that our “friendship” meant me taking Jessica out, paying for everything, then watching her go home in a cab. Or even worse, to a club, dressed in tight pants and heels or a clinging dress, leaving me with blue balls and a lighter wallet.
It was torture for me, knowing that she was most likely getting fucked later. She must be, I though, dressed in that manner. Getting fucked by someone who was more than “just a friend” while I jerked off to her Facebook pics.
This went on for all of fucking six fucking months if you can believe it. Not only that, I hadn’t gotten laid in the final two months before the bitch friendzoned me. Basically I paid for her food, drinks and entertainment, then went home alone and jerked off, for a full eight months. On a number of times I thought that guy in the bar was right, I was a fucking mug. My hard-earned my money would be better-spent on a hooker, I thought. But at the same time, I was constantly thinking how I could win Jessica back. Foolish, I know, but I was obsessed with her. I loved her. I couldn't see past my dreams of us living together, maybe having kids.
The final straw was that fateful night we met in Piazella’s. Our appointment was at 10.30pm, but it was actually 11.10 when Jessica finally sauntered in. “I’m really sorry Donny” she said as she approached our booth. ”I had to call at a pharmacy and the queue was sooo long. I hope you haven’t been too bored."
Jessica looked mouth-wateringly hot. She was wearing an extremely tight pink cotton dress finishing just above the knee, and pink stilettos. Her sexy bare legs had been waxed, and her blonde hair was tied up in a bun above her pretty, blemish-free face. Her big breasts and ass both jiggled beneath her dress as she walked to the table.
Jessica told me she needed to leave no later than midnight, as she was going to some fashion event in SoHo. “I’d love to stay longer but JayZ might show up and do a DJ set” she explained.
The bitch was sparing me 45 fucking minutes, I thought.
“Have you ordered?” Jessica said,
I shook my head. Jessica signalled to the waiter and ordered a bottle of wine and a goat’s cheese salad. I ordered a burger and my fourth beer. I was feeling a little *****.
“So babe, what have you been up to?” I asked her.
“What?” Jessica looked up at me. She had been reading a text.
“What have you been doing these days? How’s school?
“Err…there’s this new band I’ve kinda got into, they’re called East Bay Crew. Hip Hop. I’ve been helping them with print designs”
She glanced back down at her phone
The name rang a bell. The East Bay Crew, I remembered, had caused a stir due to their militant lyrics. Their so-called “posse” had made the front page of the Post following a gunfight, a fucking gunfight, in Times Square if you can believe it. A tourist had been hit in the crossfire. This was scary stuff.
“Hell, Jessica do you know about them? The gunfight?
“Oh yeah, they got ambushed, it’s not like you think” she said.
Jessica started typing a message.
“Honey, there’s better music out there, really. You should stay away from those kinda guys” I said. The alcohol was giving me confidence.
Jessica was still looking at her phone. Then she received what I saw was a picture message, I couldn’t make it out.
“I really think you could do better than guys like that babe” I said. “Honey, listen. I was thinking. You don’t need to go to Soho tonight, maybe we can spend a bit of time together, maybe have a little fun”
“How about it babe?”
Jessica finally looked up at me. She put her phone into her bag, folded her arms in front of her big tits, leaned forward on the table and looked right at me.
“Donny. Sometimes I don’t think you remember…what your place in my life is”. It was like an admonishment. “You don’t get to dictate what kind of music I listen to. We aren’t a couple, remember”
“Anyway, what do you mean by those kinda guys?” Jessica said.
I was at a loss for words.
Then Jessica leaned back in her chair all the while holding eye contact with me. She stated contemplating the dessert menu, leaning back further and seemingly flaunting her curves at me.
I swear that right at that moment the bitch was enjoying me aching for her. She was dressed in this slutty dress, and if she was wearing a bra it only served to thrust her tits outwards. She must have known I was getting an eyeful. I was distraught, but my cock was twitching.
“I am not your honey. And you are not my boyfriend” she said, staring into my eyes. “Why would I want to hang with you when I could be at an open bar with JayZ on the deck?”
“Please” I blurted out tearfully” Just give me a chance. Please Jessica. I love you. Just hear me out! ”
“You told me you would be okay being friends” Jessica said. “If you can’t handle that, it’s on you and no one else. “
“Please Jessica,” I said.
The bitch was still staring at me. She seemed to be almost thrusting her tits out towards me. I could see clearly her breasts and the outline of her nipples
“Shut up, you’re embarrassing me.” Jessica said. “And also would you please stop staring at my breasts? These aren’t for you Donny”
I continued to stare at her engorged breasts open mouthed. Her nipples were sticking out through the thin cotton. Then I stared down at her legs. She had a new black tattoo above her ankle. It was a Queen of Spades symbol.
Man, I knew what that tattoo meant. I'd seen enough interracial porn. I was aghast. Jessica was a fucking Queen of Spades, a bitch who fucked exclusively black men.
I started sobbing. I couldn’t hold it back. Then I rested my head in my arm, closed my eyes and started bawling. I was hoping she would come across and console me. I waited, and waited.
When I finally opened my eyes she was gone, and the check was waiting on the table.
Chapter Three
So we remained friends. We agreed to meet to do “fun things” together, like hit bars, restaurants and gigs. I’d see Jessica every couple of weeks. My plan was to take her out, pamper her and make her laugh, and eventually make her realise that I was the man for her.
However, it seemed that each time I saw her she seemed more distant and distracted than the last. On two or three occasions I realised she was not even listening to what I was saying. She seemed more interested in her phone, or even talking to strangers in the bars we visited. As we weren’t a couple, I couldn’t even object.
I took her to see Leonard Cohen at Radio City and it was the most embarrassing night of my life. The bitch was constantly checking her phone, the light visible to all in the darkened auditorium. In the end it was Cohen himself who’d had enough. He stopped a song intro, pointed directly at me and said “Hey, please turn off your phone buddy”
They say Cohen didn’t have great eyesight in his later years, and I guess that’s the only explanation for him saying “buddy”. Anyhow, the entire fucking theatre burst into applause at his words. Suddenly there I was, in close-up, on the big screen that was relaying the concert. Jessica found it hilarious, of course, you can see her laughing at my shame. The concert is widely available on YouTube if you want to see the bitch’s reaction first-hand.
To be blunt, I was pissed. I was spending a fortune. I wasn’t “winning her back”. In fact, became clear to me that our “friendship” meant me taking Jessica out, paying for everything, then watching her go home in a cab. Or even worse, to a club, dressed in tight pants and heels or a clinging dress, leaving me with blue balls and a lighter wallet.
It was torture for me, knowing that she was most likely getting fucked later. She must be, I though, dressed in that manner. Getting fucked by someone who was more than “just a friend” while I jerked off to her Facebook pics.
This went on for all of fucking six fucking months if you can believe it. Not only that, I hadn’t gotten laid in the final two months before the bitch friendzoned me. Basically I paid for her food, drinks and entertainment, then went home alone and jerked off, for a full eight months. On a number of times I thought that guy in the bar was right, I was a fucking mug. My hard-earned my money would be better-spent on a hooker, I thought. But at the same time, I was constantly thinking how I could win Jessica back. Foolish, I know, but I was obsessed with her. I loved her. I couldn't see past my dreams of us living together, maybe having kids.
The final straw was that fateful night we met in Piazella’s. Our appointment was at 10.30pm, but it was actually 11.10 when Jessica finally sauntered in. “I’m really sorry Donny” she said as she approached our booth. ”I had to call at a pharmacy and the queue was sooo long. I hope you haven’t been too bored."
Jessica looked mouth-wateringly hot. She was wearing an extremely tight pink cotton dress finishing just above the knee, and pink stilettos. Her sexy bare legs had been waxed, and her blonde hair was tied up in a bun above her pretty, blemish-free face. Her big breasts and ass both jiggled beneath her dress as she walked to the table.
Jessica told me she needed to leave no later than midnight, as she was going to some fashion event in SoHo. “I’d love to stay longer but JayZ might show up and do a DJ set” she explained.
The bitch was sparing me 45 fucking minutes, I thought.
“Have you ordered?” Jessica said,
I shook my head. Jessica signalled to the waiter and ordered a bottle of wine and a goat’s cheese salad. I ordered a burger and my fourth beer. I was feeling a little *****.
“So babe, what have you been up to?” I asked her.
“What?” Jessica looked up at me. She had been reading a text.
“What have you been doing these days? How’s school?
“Err…there’s this new band I’ve kinda got into, they’re called East Bay Crew. Hip Hop. I’ve been helping them with print designs”
She glanced back down at her phone
The name rang a bell. The East Bay Crew, I remembered, had caused a stir due to their militant lyrics. Their so-called “posse” had made the front page of the Post following a gunfight, a fucking gunfight, in Times Square if you can believe it. A tourist had been hit in the crossfire. This was scary stuff.
“Hell, Jessica do you know about them? The gunfight?
“Oh yeah, they got ambushed, it’s not like you think” she said.
Jessica started typing a message.
“Honey, there’s better music out there, really. You should stay away from those kinda guys” I said. The alcohol was giving me confidence.
Jessica was still looking at her phone. Then she received what I saw was a picture message, I couldn’t make it out.
“I really think you could do better than guys like that babe” I said. “Honey, listen. I was thinking. You don’t need to go to Soho tonight, maybe we can spend a bit of time together, maybe have a little fun”
“How about it babe?”
Jessica finally looked up at me. She put her phone into her bag, folded her arms in front of her big tits, leaned forward on the table and looked right at me.
“Donny. Sometimes I don’t think you remember…what your place in my life is”. It was like an admonishment. “You don’t get to dictate what kind of music I listen to. We aren’t a couple, remember”
“Anyway, what do you mean by those kinda guys?” Jessica said.
I was at a loss for words.
Then Jessica leaned back in her chair all the while holding eye contact with me. She stated contemplating the dessert menu, leaning back further and seemingly flaunting her curves at me.
I swear that right at that moment the bitch was enjoying me aching for her. She was dressed in this slutty dress, and if she was wearing a bra it only served to thrust her tits outwards. She must have known I was getting an eyeful. I was distraught, but my cock was twitching.
“I am not your honey. And you are not my boyfriend” she said, staring into my eyes. “Why would I want to hang with you when I could be at an open bar with JayZ on the deck?”
“Please” I blurted out tearfully” Just give me a chance. Please Jessica. I love you. Just hear me out! ”
“You told me you would be okay being friends” Jessica said. “If you can’t handle that, it’s on you and no one else. “
“Please Jessica,” I said.
The bitch was still staring at me. She seemed to be almost thrusting her tits out towards me. I could see clearly her breasts and the outline of her nipples
“Shut up, you’re embarrassing me.” Jessica said. “And also would you please stop staring at my breasts? These aren’t for you Donny”
I continued to stare at her engorged breasts open mouthed. Her nipples were sticking out through the thin cotton. Then I stared down at her legs. She had a new black tattoo above her ankle. It was a Queen of Spades symbol.
Man, I knew what that tattoo meant. I'd seen enough interracial porn. I was aghast. Jessica was a fucking Queen of Spades, a bitch who fucked exclusively black men.
I started sobbing. I couldn’t hold it back. Then I rested my head in my arm, closed my eyes and started bawling. I was hoping she would come across and console me. I waited, and waited.
When I finally opened my eyes she was gone, and the check was waiting on the table.
Chapter Three
