Blaque*Angel
Well-Known Member
please let me know when the book comes out
Flying to SC tomorrow to meet my online BF...
- Thread starter ElizaBlue
- Start date
infojunkie
Well-Known Member
Lady, if you're just getting here the answer to that is YES! You don' missed a heap.
I suggest you play catch up before part 3 gets posted.
Jessica Rabbit
New Member
We just did headstands in yoga class the other day. The kind you can hold really comfortably for a long period of time. Needless to say, boo boo kitty *** is excited. 
We just did headstands in yoga class the other day. The kind you can hold really comfortably for a long period of time. Needless to say, boo boo kitty *** is excited.
Signed up for first class Saturday morning.
Signed up for first class Saturday morning.
Girl Elizablue got me tryn to find classes close to my house
TRUKARISMA
Active Member
can someone pm me with a copy of the zane version.
CaramelPrincezz
Well-Known Member
Man I'm super late. Can someone PLEASE PM me the Zane version Parts 1-how many ever parts there are?
And just add me to the mailing list for any future Zane parts
And just add me to the mailing list for any future Zane parts
Jessica Rabbit
New Member
Anybody in the DC area, let me know. I work at a yoga studio.
Jessica Rabbit
New Member
That list is missing a lot of the good studios in some areas.
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JFemme
Well-Known Member
ebonysweetie
Well-Known Member
Let me get myself together so I can settle down and read this!Got me waiting like a Harry Potter fan
ebonysweetie
Well-Known Member
JFemme
Well-Known Member
Yes, girl...
he just walked in...
asking me if I was ready to go.....Ah, NO....
I replied, 'hang for 20/30 more minutes'....
He thinks, I'm caught up reading bout some hair story...
iwantlongerhair
New Member
Can someone please pm me the Zane versions. Thnx.
ElizaBlue
Well-Known Member
June 7, 2008 Part I
It’s Saturday night. We again say goodbye to his parents and are outside getting ready to go. I can tell he has something on his mind. I keep asking him what’s up. He tells me that he really needs to bring the truck and trailer back home, but doesn’t want to leave the SUV at his parents again.
I say "Why can’t I just drive the SUV home?” He looks sort of uncomfortable. I’m thinking to myself, “What? Does he think Texas driver’s license aren't good in South Carolina?” He finally tells me that would mean we would have to be in separate cars. “Okay” I say, “It’s only 20 minutes. We can talk on the cell phones"
Why am I shocked when he says “You would do that for me?” Ladies what kind of women has this man been dealing with? I know men that would have suggested I drive the SUV home and then walk back and get the tractor and trailer. Well…I use to know some people who use to know someone like that.
So he spends the next 10-15 minutes showing me where the brakes are and how to turn on the lights and how the door locks work, and how to adjust the seat, and here’s how you adjust the mirrors, and then this and then that. I finally stop him and say, “Baby…stop. Its okay, I got it, it’s a Montero not a space ship.” He gives me that look, like you gone get it when you get home.
Could I ever tell this man I have driven at speeds up to a 110 miles per hour in a chase because the suspect had possession of contraband used during a controlled delivery? Somehow I just don’t think he would ever understand that part of me. I can only imagine telling this to his mom and dad. Ooooweeee!! Oh the questions that would be a coming.
So off we go, winding through dark hills of South Carolina roadway. This is a really pretty area in the day time. But dang why is it so dark at night? It’s like it was getting extra darker and extra blacker. I sound like the Boondocks. Hehehe. I mean at one point the only thing I could see were his tail lights. If he had made a sharp turn and switched off his lights, I would have been lost like a mug. Why do I even think like that?
He’s 8 feet in front of me on the cell phone talking about “Do you still see me?” and “I’m getting ready to slow down” and “It’s a stop sign right here” and “Baby do you still see me?” and “Make sure you’re behind me.” There was no way for me to get lost. I don’t know why he didn’t just hitch the Montero to the trailer. Then I could have chilled and looked out the window at the….dark.
So we finally get home…well back to his house. He parks the truck and trailer. I stay in the SUV. We’ve decided to drive around some more. Look at some more darkness. Okay it wasn’t that bad. We wind up at an IHOP. I like IHOP because they give you your own carafe of coffee to keep at the table. I hate waiting for the waiter when my coffee cup is empty.
When the waitress comes over we are ready to order. He’s having an omelet, hash browns, grits and bacon with an ice water. I order the Tilapia, with corn and broccoli and an ice tea. He tells the waitress, to be sure to bring lots of lemons.
I laugh to myself thinking about how once upon a time my play sister and I would go out to eat. Now she had a bunch of kids. A bunch of kids, like her own kindergarten. So every time we went to a restaurant she would order everyone glasses of water and tell the waitress to bring extra lemon. She would carefully squeeze the lemons into each glass of water and after adding the restaurants sugar; she would reach into her purse and pull out packets of Kool-Aid. Then she would look over the tops of her glasses like a school marm and ask her kids which flavor would they like, cherry or grape. This would crack me up.
I smile as I remember my friend. He looks at me curiously and says “what are you over there smiling about?” “Just an old friend” I answer. “We were like sisters and she passed away”. “Tell me about her” he says. But before I can get started, the waitress returns with our drinks.
She pours me a cup of coffee and passes it to me. Hmmmm…it’s nice and hot. I put both my palms around the coffee cup to warm me up. He squeezes the lemons into his water. He begins to talk about his company and then without missing a beat he says “pass me the sugar.” I gulp on the coffee…what? He thinks I didn’t hear him so a little louder he repeats with a face so straight “The sugar, I said PASS me the SUGAR"
I don’t want him to ask any louder so I quickly slide the sugar container in his direction while looking the other way. Is he really going to make bootleg lemonade? Oh God please no. Not only does he make it, he…he…asks… me… if …I want him to make me some too. I’m almost chewing my lip off to keep from rolling on the floor. “No thanks”...I stammer… “I.. got…coffee”. Should I have just asked for a cup of boiling hot water and brought my own coffee beans?
I‘m about to bust a stitch. He is looking so serious like there is an exact amount of sugar and a special way to stir it to get it just right. I am dying. I cannot hold it… I am not going to be able to keep from busting out laughing in his face. “My bad” he says suddenly, “let me go wash my hands” Thank you Jesus. I am laughing my *** off. People are looking at me and I cannot help it.
Just as I manage get control of myself, I see him walking back. As I look around I realize he ain’t the only one drinking this "homemade cloudy water sugar packet lemonade". On at least 4 tables, they are drinking what looked like the same stuff with 99 and 50 open sugar packets next to their glasses. Where am I? In the C-O-U-N-T-R-Y
The waitress brings our dinner and leaves. He reaches for my hands and we bow our heads. He says grace. He’s still holding my hands and hasn’t said Amen. I know I can’t eat before the Amen part. And I didn’t eat any of that dang popcorn, so a sistah is hungry as a hostage right about now.
So I crack my eyes open a bit. He’s over there with his eyes still closed speaking oh so softly. I sort of look to the left and right. Finally he gives my hands a hearty squeeze and says “So I thank you father, I do. Amen” I couldn’t resist. “So…what was that all about?” He begins putting salt and pepper on his food and ignores me. I take a bite of my Tilapia, and with the fork still poised in the air I say to him “What? You telling God on me, cause remember, you did it too?” I’m so serious.
He sort of smiles and laughs. “Nah, that ain't none of your business, now. That’s between me and the Man, you just be at the church on time”. He begins to eat. I glance down and then back up at him chewing on that damn omlete getting ready to drink that bootleg lemonade. I guess I just got told to “hush my mouth” like grown folks used to sush little kids. I have nothing else to say. I just look at my plate. I watch him slowly chew. He got some sexy *** lips. He may have a little bit a game to go with them sexy lips though.
It’s Saturday night. We again say goodbye to his parents and are outside getting ready to go. I can tell he has something on his mind. I keep asking him what’s up. He tells me that he really needs to bring the truck and trailer back home, but doesn’t want to leave the SUV at his parents again.
I say "Why can’t I just drive the SUV home?” He looks sort of uncomfortable. I’m thinking to myself, “What? Does he think Texas driver’s license aren't good in South Carolina?” He finally tells me that would mean we would have to be in separate cars. “Okay” I say, “It’s only 20 minutes. We can talk on the cell phones"
Why am I shocked when he says “You would do that for me?” Ladies what kind of women has this man been dealing with? I know men that would have suggested I drive the SUV home and then walk back and get the tractor and trailer. Well…I use to know some people who use to know someone like that.
So he spends the next 10-15 minutes showing me where the brakes are and how to turn on the lights and how the door locks work, and how to adjust the seat, and here’s how you adjust the mirrors, and then this and then that. I finally stop him and say, “Baby…stop. Its okay, I got it, it’s a Montero not a space ship.” He gives me that look, like you gone get it when you get home.
Could I ever tell this man I have driven at speeds up to a 110 miles per hour in a chase because the suspect had possession of contraband used during a controlled delivery? Somehow I just don’t think he would ever understand that part of me. I can only imagine telling this to his mom and dad. Ooooweeee!! Oh the questions that would be a coming.
So off we go, winding through dark hills of South Carolina roadway. This is a really pretty area in the day time. But dang why is it so dark at night? It’s like it was getting extra darker and extra blacker. I sound like the Boondocks. Hehehe. I mean at one point the only thing I could see were his tail lights. If he had made a sharp turn and switched off his lights, I would have been lost like a mug. Why do I even think like that?
He’s 8 feet in front of me on the cell phone talking about “Do you still see me?” and “I’m getting ready to slow down” and “It’s a stop sign right here” and “Baby do you still see me?” and “Make sure you’re behind me.” There was no way for me to get lost. I don’t know why he didn’t just hitch the Montero to the trailer. Then I could have chilled and looked out the window at the….dark.
So we finally get home…well back to his house. He parks the truck and trailer. I stay in the SUV. We’ve decided to drive around some more. Look at some more darkness. Okay it wasn’t that bad. We wind up at an IHOP. I like IHOP because they give you your own carafe of coffee to keep at the table. I hate waiting for the waiter when my coffee cup is empty.
When the waitress comes over we are ready to order. He’s having an omelet, hash browns, grits and bacon with an ice water. I order the Tilapia, with corn and broccoli and an ice tea. He tells the waitress, to be sure to bring lots of lemons.
I laugh to myself thinking about how once upon a time my play sister and I would go out to eat. Now she had a bunch of kids. A bunch of kids, like her own kindergarten. So every time we went to a restaurant she would order everyone glasses of water and tell the waitress to bring extra lemon. She would carefully squeeze the lemons into each glass of water and after adding the restaurants sugar; she would reach into her purse and pull out packets of Kool-Aid. Then she would look over the tops of her glasses like a school marm and ask her kids which flavor would they like, cherry or grape. This would crack me up.
I smile as I remember my friend. He looks at me curiously and says “what are you over there smiling about?” “Just an old friend” I answer. “We were like sisters and she passed away”. “Tell me about her” he says. But before I can get started, the waitress returns with our drinks.
She pours me a cup of coffee and passes it to me. Hmmmm…it’s nice and hot. I put both my palms around the coffee cup to warm me up. He squeezes the lemons into his water. He begins to talk about his company and then without missing a beat he says “pass me the sugar.” I gulp on the coffee…what? He thinks I didn’t hear him so a little louder he repeats with a face so straight “The sugar, I said PASS me the SUGAR"
I don’t want him to ask any louder so I quickly slide the sugar container in his direction while looking the other way. Is he really going to make bootleg lemonade? Oh God please no. Not only does he make it, he…he…asks… me… if …I want him to make me some too. I’m almost chewing my lip off to keep from rolling on the floor. “No thanks”...I stammer… “I.. got…coffee”. Should I have just asked for a cup of boiling hot water and brought my own coffee beans?
I‘m about to bust a stitch. He is looking so serious like there is an exact amount of sugar and a special way to stir it to get it just right. I am dying. I cannot hold it… I am not going to be able to keep from busting out laughing in his face. “My bad” he says suddenly, “let me go wash my hands” Thank you Jesus. I am laughing my *** off. People are looking at me and I cannot help it.
Just as I manage get control of myself, I see him walking back. As I look around I realize he ain’t the only one drinking this "homemade cloudy water sugar packet lemonade". On at least 4 tables, they are drinking what looked like the same stuff with 99 and 50 open sugar packets next to their glasses. Where am I? In the C-O-U-N-T-R-Y
The waitress brings our dinner and leaves. He reaches for my hands and we bow our heads. He says grace. He’s still holding my hands and hasn’t said Amen. I know I can’t eat before the Amen part. And I didn’t eat any of that dang popcorn, so a sistah is hungry as a hostage right about now.
So I crack my eyes open a bit. He’s over there with his eyes still closed speaking oh so softly. I sort of look to the left and right. Finally he gives my hands a hearty squeeze and says “So I thank you father, I do. Amen” I couldn’t resist. “So…what was that all about?” He begins putting salt and pepper on his food and ignores me. I take a bite of my Tilapia, and with the fork still poised in the air I say to him “What? You telling God on me, cause remember, you did it too?” I’m so serious.
He sort of smiles and laughs. “Nah, that ain't none of your business, now. That’s between me and the Man, you just be at the church on time”. He begins to eat. I glance down and then back up at him chewing on that damn omlete getting ready to drink that bootleg lemonade. I guess I just got told to “hush my mouth” like grown folks used to sush little kids. I have nothing else to say. I just look at my plate. I watch him slowly chew. He got some sexy *** lips. He may have a little bit a game to go with them sexy lips though.
Jessica Rabbit
New Member
It's ok honey. Some studios are better than none. Lemme know when you learn your first special pose.Sorry
ElizaBlue
Well-Known Member
June 7, 2008 Part II
We finish our meal and drive home. We go in the house and he immediately goes to look for the movies we selected the first night I got there. I head straight for the bathroom and just as fast as I can, I get out of my clothes. I’m feeling sticky from driving through all them extra dark woods. I can’t wait to get in the shower.
I’m just getting ready to do my second lather, when the bathroom door opens. I got soap all over my face and for sure don’t want to get any in my eyes. Now he has never once come in the bedroom while I’m dressing, let alone in the bathroom. So I was sort of having a “Psycho” moment.
I got my eyes shut tight because of the soap and can’t see a damn thing and all I know is someone else just came in the bathroom. “What?” I say a little too loud. Silence. “Baby?” More silence. “Stop playing” I manage as I try to wipe soap off my face and away from my eyes with soap filled hands. Ahrrgh...damn I got soap in my eyes.
Finally, I just open my eyes, which are burning like hell. I use my other hand and snatch back the shower curtain. He’s leaning against the counter butt *** naked. “Will you stop all that hollering woman” he says, but I can tell he’s been laughing his butt off.
Now he gives it up and just grabs his stomach (which is completely flat by the way) continuing to laugh and says “Who…who…(more laughter) did you think it was, the country man gone crazy serial killer” He is just rolling now. I don’t see a damn thing funny. He straightens up and tells me “You were so cute with soap everywhere, what were you gone do, defend yourself with the ….the …Old Spring” He goes back to belly laughing.
I put my whole face under the shower to wash off the soap and just glare at him. "That ish was not funny man” He looks at me real serious, then busts out laughing again. Okay. I started to ask him if he wanted me to fix him some more lemonade. Bootleg lemonade.
He finally stops and says, "I’m sorry if I scared you baby" Suddenly I start laughing with him. He starts back laughing saying “that was funny huh”. “Yeah” I nod; I say “it was funny as hell”. I’m thinking about him and his scientific measurements making that lemonade. We both laughing hard as hell, about two totally different things.
He moves to get in the shower with me. Okay maybe it was a little funny. But had he pulled that ish in Houston he’d be talking bout “you didn’t have to shoot me” Just joking. I’m not that skittish. But I might have maced his *** just to teach him bout playing with grown folk.
I lather up the towel and wash his chest, he ain’t laughing at all now. We never break eye contact. I do his chest, stomach…yeah all that. I tell him to turn around I wash his back. He tells me he wants to wash my hair. I take down my ponytail.
He reaches for the shampoo. Hold up. I take that unknown bottle right out of his hand. “’What kind of shampoo is this?” I ask. He tells me it’s what his mom gave him for dandruff. I put that ish right back on the ledge. “Its okay” I say….I only use conditioner anyway. He asks me “how can I wash your hair without shampoo just conditioner.” I’m smiling now…"It’s how I wash my hair, it’s called co-washing” I say. “Oh” he says...”well okay” he’s looking so perplexed. Run tell momma that.
We finally get out and dry off. We go into the living room. I’m dressed in a fashionable white towel with a green one loosely secured around my head, so my twist can dry. He was looking quite dapper with his own navy blue towel secured around his waist.
He sat down on the couch and motioned for me to lie across his lap. The movie we started on Friday night, Annapolis is playing. After about 15 minutes, he loosens the towel on my hair and begins to lightly scratch my scalp. Now ya’ll know, ain’t nothing more relaxing than a man playing in your head while you relax. His fingers massaging my scalp is feeling so oh so good. I roll over onto my back and smile. I don’t open my eyes, just smile.
He says “What’s the matter? Do you want me to quit? And then he adds “I thought you were gonna watch the movie?” “No, don’t quit” I answer; it just feels so good it’s making me sleepy” What I should have said was, “No it’s hard to concentrate when I know what’s under that towel.”
I open my eyes and we stare at each other. And then… the monster… under the towel…awakes…stretches… begins to thump its way out from under the towel. “I’m sorry” he says, “let me go put something else on” I tell him” its okay, don’t worry about it.” But I can tell he’s embarrassed.
I turn over onto my stomach; his hand is still in my hair. For a moment neither of us moves. Then with his right hand he switches the movie from the DVD that was playing to the music channel. I look at him and he’s gazing down at me through those long lashes.
He puts his head back on the couch. Okay I know this drill. Out of the speakers we listen to Beyonce tell Usher that while she’s strong she doubts that this velvet rope will hold her up. I look back down. His blue towel has also failed at holding up. Well now. How bout we put a marker here, we can call it Part I, Day 3. Okay?
We finish our meal and drive home. We go in the house and he immediately goes to look for the movies we selected the first night I got there. I head straight for the bathroom and just as fast as I can, I get out of my clothes. I’m feeling sticky from driving through all them extra dark woods. I can’t wait to get in the shower.
I’m just getting ready to do my second lather, when the bathroom door opens. I got soap all over my face and for sure don’t want to get any in my eyes. Now he has never once come in the bedroom while I’m dressing, let alone in the bathroom. So I was sort of having a “Psycho” moment.
I got my eyes shut tight because of the soap and can’t see a damn thing and all I know is someone else just came in the bathroom. “What?” I say a little too loud. Silence. “Baby?” More silence. “Stop playing” I manage as I try to wipe soap off my face and away from my eyes with soap filled hands. Ahrrgh...damn I got soap in my eyes.
Finally, I just open my eyes, which are burning like hell. I use my other hand and snatch back the shower curtain. He’s leaning against the counter butt *** naked. “Will you stop all that hollering woman” he says, but I can tell he’s been laughing his butt off.
Now he gives it up and just grabs his stomach (which is completely flat by the way) continuing to laugh and says “Who…who…(more laughter) did you think it was, the country man gone crazy serial killer” He is just rolling now. I don’t see a damn thing funny. He straightens up and tells me “You were so cute with soap everywhere, what were you gone do, defend yourself with the ….the …Old Spring” He goes back to belly laughing.
I put my whole face under the shower to wash off the soap and just glare at him. "That ish was not funny man” He looks at me real serious, then busts out laughing again. Okay. I started to ask him if he wanted me to fix him some more lemonade. Bootleg lemonade.
He finally stops and says, "I’m sorry if I scared you baby" Suddenly I start laughing with him. He starts back laughing saying “that was funny huh”. “Yeah” I nod; I say “it was funny as hell”. I’m thinking about him and his scientific measurements making that lemonade. We both laughing hard as hell, about two totally different things.
He moves to get in the shower with me. Okay maybe it was a little funny. But had he pulled that ish in Houston he’d be talking bout “you didn’t have to shoot me” Just joking. I’m not that skittish. But I might have maced his *** just to teach him bout playing with grown folk.
I lather up the towel and wash his chest, he ain’t laughing at all now. We never break eye contact. I do his chest, stomach…yeah all that. I tell him to turn around I wash his back. He tells me he wants to wash my hair. I take down my ponytail.
He reaches for the shampoo. Hold up. I take that unknown bottle right out of his hand. “’What kind of shampoo is this?” I ask. He tells me it’s what his mom gave him for dandruff. I put that ish right back on the ledge. “Its okay” I say….I only use conditioner anyway. He asks me “how can I wash your hair without shampoo just conditioner.” I’m smiling now…"It’s how I wash my hair, it’s called co-washing” I say. “Oh” he says...”well okay” he’s looking so perplexed. Run tell momma that.
We finally get out and dry off. We go into the living room. I’m dressed in a fashionable white towel with a green one loosely secured around my head, so my twist can dry. He was looking quite dapper with his own navy blue towel secured around his waist.
He sat down on the couch and motioned for me to lie across his lap. The movie we started on Friday night, Annapolis is playing. After about 15 minutes, he loosens the towel on my hair and begins to lightly scratch my scalp. Now ya’ll know, ain’t nothing more relaxing than a man playing in your head while you relax. His fingers massaging my scalp is feeling so oh so good. I roll over onto my back and smile. I don’t open my eyes, just smile.
He says “What’s the matter? Do you want me to quit? And then he adds “I thought you were gonna watch the movie?” “No, don’t quit” I answer; it just feels so good it’s making me sleepy” What I should have said was, “No it’s hard to concentrate when I know what’s under that towel.”
I open my eyes and we stare at each other. And then… the monster… under the towel…awakes…stretches… begins to thump its way out from under the towel. “I’m sorry” he says, “let me go put something else on” I tell him” its okay, don’t worry about it.” But I can tell he’s embarrassed.
I turn over onto my stomach; his hand is still in my hair. For a moment neither of us moves. Then with his right hand he switches the movie from the DVD that was playing to the music channel. I look at him and he’s gazing down at me through those long lashes.
He puts his head back on the couch. Okay I know this drill. Out of the speakers we listen to Beyonce tell Usher that while she’s strong she doubts that this velvet rope will hold her up. I look back down. His blue towel has also failed at holding up. Well now. How bout we put a marker here, we can call it Part I, Day 3. Okay?
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PassionFruit
New Member
Awwwww heck nawwww... I cant wait for tomorrow.....
ok....so I see I've been officially evicted from "Lurkville". Goodness, your writing is seriously off the hook...can I get a PM with ALL of the Zane versions
While I'm at it, JessicaRabbit, I live in the DC area...how about that yoga class you were referencing a few pages back
While I'm at it, JessicaRabbit, I live in the DC area...how about that yoga class you were referencing a few pages back
Jessica Rabbit
New Member
Hit me up on pm and I will give you the details. Welcome out of lurk mode and be a regular!ok....so I see I've been officially evicted from "Lurkville". Goodness, your writing is seriously off the hook...can I get a PM with ALL of the Zane versions
While I'm at it, JessicaRabbit, I live in the DC area...how about that yoga class you were referencing a few pages back
Eliza, if you don't stop calling that man country like Texas is the Yankee capital.
Hit me up on pm and I will give you the details. Welcome out of lurk mode and be a regular!
Eliza, if you don't stop calling that man country like Texas is the Yankee capital.
Right! I aways wanted a Big Texas country boy myself. I am guessing they have migrated.
eta... I dun passed my bedtime, gonna be cranky in the morning... is there more coming this evening?
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