The Promiscuous Princess 2


To my surprise the woman that I had been talking to and getting to know over the last week or so, was not the same woman who greeted me at the front door. It through me off at first, and I unconsciously and without given it a second thought I said “Ok, and who are you?,” the woman replied, and said, “Oh hey I’m Rochelle’s best friend Friday, come on in she’s out back.” I introduced myself and stepped inside. As she closed and locked the front door I stopped her and said, “Did you say your name was Friday?” Yup, like tonight,” she says and ironically it was Friday night.  For those that never got the memo, if you ever hear a man say something along the lines of “that bitch or this bitch is bad,” then they are referring to a beautiful woman with very few flaws overall. In a non offensive way its actually one of the 21st centuries greatest compliments.  I usually exercise that catchphrase when I see these types. Technically, it doesn’t have to be just cosmetic. Personalty and brains is key too, but for the sake of story time I will save this topic for another sunny day, but Friday was totally my type.

At any rate, I had a million things racing through my head at that moment,  but never had time to sort them out of course because things started moving extremely expeditiously. The next thing I know, Rochelle comes up from around the corner with these beautiful pearly white teeth fit just perfect for her amazing smile that lit up the room like a Christmas tree. She jumps into my arms with her small petite frame and gives me a hug like she hadn’t seen me in a 6000 years! “Wow I can’t believe your finally here, you made it, it’s so nice to finally meet you.” Rochelle, was everything she said she was so far and her photographs online didn’t do her enough justice to show how gorgeous she really was in person. To keep it real, I was attracted to her and her friend. I’m only human. You know those times where you’d be in a certain scenario and your doing your best to contain your excitement but in your head your actually having a parade? Well this was it. “Would you like me to make you a drink?” She says. I responded with a resounding, “Yes”. I helped myself to a barstool and got comfortable and right on cue just like your favorite movie, she says to me, ” When I went out today, I bought you some Grey Goose and cranberry from the store and a few other things.”

“Thank you I really appreciate that,” but in the back of my mind I did give her a few bonus points for paying close attention to what I liked through our previous conversations, but even though I might have been jumping the gun in a sense, what I was really trying to do was ascertain how this evening was going to go. Im inpatient when it comes to shit like this. Im like fuck the rainbow just get me to the pot of gold. I tried to do my damnedest to keep from staring at this lady like some type of sexual deviant but that sweet red wine she kept sipping out that wine glass had started to make her pretty pink lips turn a light shade of purple  and that mixed along with those purple highlights she had in her hair had me feeling some type of way. It was early but with all that was going on, I was getting turned the fuck on.

Once she passed me my drink, we got right to it. “So do you like what you see so far?” She asked, but being the comedian I am, I said, “Are you referring to you or the kitchen?” No silly, me, she says. “Well, your everything you said you were, so thank you.” The interesting part about this kitchen conversation was that she never said she liked me directly, but the eyes don’t lie. Along with her continuous smile she kept for me, those big brown eyes told me everything I needed to know about how she was feeling about our rendezvous. To be brutally honest, this might sound far out but after my first vodka and cranberry, I felt like I could read her mind. Now, I had only been there for about 35 minutes or so, but it seemed like time was moving fast. I was still anxious about this surprise she had in store for me, but as always I like to let these things play out. “Let’s go in here”. she says.

We walk into the living room where she had the lights dimmed perfectly with a bunch of different scented candles all about. Her home was as pristine as they come, spotless in fact. I remember smelling hits of Vanilla and maybe so sort of apple in the air from those expensive looking candles she had strategically placed. A lot of mirrors, paintings and a few 3 foot photos of Rochelle dressed up as various Princesses. I was looking at the picture with my head cocked to the side trying to figure out if that was her or not without asking her. “Me and some of my friends go to Cos Play in Los Angeles every year and I get to dress up in my favorites”, she tells me. There was a picture with her dressed up as Princess Lai from Star Wars, one with her as Cinderella and last but not least Rapunzel. “I like this one the best because if I decide to wear this Rapunzel costume when I’m having sex, my hair is all over the bed and they can yank and pull my hair as hard as they want,” she said. We both laughed, but I was taking mental notes.

Now, her friendly friend Friday was sitting quietly on the couch watching TV with the sound turned down but music from the home stereo playing in the background. As me and Rochelle continued to walk over to the couch to sit back and relax, Friday says to me, “Come sit next to me”, the only other option was to stand, (and since I wasn’t gonna do that) I sat in the middle of the couch and Rochelle sat next to me. After about 10 minutes minutes Rochelle gets up and goes to the kitchen and brings another bottle of wine and a vodka and cran for me. For the first few minutes we all engaged in a bunch of small talk, which then turned into a little playful chitter chatter, which after a while carried over into some downright prohibited colloquy.

I took me a little while to finish that second drink she made for me, but the odd thing about it, I was starting to feel somewhat different. I mean, I wasn’t drunk I only had two glasses but those bitches were strong as shit. I was buzzing  but not feeling tipsy if thats even possible, but I knew something was off. Like there was something else in that drink besides vodka and cranberry juice. “The end of that drink tasted kinda funny” I said. “What do you mean” says Rochelle. “Like powdery or something aftertaste, taste it,” I handed her the drink and she says, “I’m not gonna drink it, if you say its nasty, I don’t wanna drink that all we drink is wine over here. I thought about it for a minute then said, “Listen, If you girls were planning to take advantage of me sexually you didn’t have to gimme the date rape drug in my drink, I wouldn’t just complied”, we all laughed, but neither one denied the light hearted accusation either.