I needed to finally set Ju, this chunky, black bottom from Oklahoma City, straight.
"Hey listen. I'm not one of these dudes you're up here talking to, or entertaining. I'll have you speaking in tongues, young'n. Understand that, "I told him over the phone.
"So you say, but one thing about it, this young'n as you call me, will have you asking for more. Play around if you like, but no need to ask around, I don't give it up to just anyone," he said to me.
His latest Twitter video of that fat, chocolate ass bouncing in slow motion made me finally take a chance to meet. He was up in Chicago for work, and I was planning to attend a wedding in Hyde Park around the same time, so it felt like the most appropriate time to link.
"Old man, I don't wanna give you a heart attack," he said.
The problem with Ju, short for Julius, was that the 35-year-old admitted he had his stable of "young bucks," some 30-and-under studs that he'd suck or jerk off only as they couldn't throw cock.
"None of these dudes worth it, man, they can't fuck," he said.
I shared that there was a difference in just fucking and making love, and told him that I long ago learned that when making love, it wasn't necessarily just about going in and out, but how, from the preparation with foreplay, simple touch, and oral, as it all spilled into one fantastic time for the pitcher and catcher if all played right. I booked my flight to land on a Friday afternoon after he claimed he could pick me up from the airport at any time.
"I'll even take you to dinner," I told him.
"No you won't. Not until after you prove you're worthy to do so," he said with arrogance.
"Ju, I'm asking you one last time: you sure about this," I said to him.
"Give me the time you're landing at O'Hare, and baby, I can guarantee you, I'll be at baggage claim waiting," he told me. "Oh, and for the record, I don't wear underwear when I'm out of town."
Friday came, as I was at Norfolk International at 5 a.m. to board my 9 a.m. flight. I was pumped, not wanting anything to go wrong on my end so I got there early. 7:30 a.m. hit and I was already checked in, walking to my gate to ensure when boarding started I was there.
"I'm on my way," I texted once I entered the plane.
Boarding and takeoff went super smooth, and surprisingly the straight flight was almost empty aa we left on time and in clear conditions, landing two hours later where the ground was damn near all white from a recent snowfall.
"Shit, it's snowing already out here," I asked Ju via text when we hit the tarmac.
"Baby, its Chicago and almost Thanksgiving. This ain't nothing new in the Midwest. Welcome, now stop hoofing and get off that damned plane," he said in response.
The aircrew managed to have us off the plane in 40 minutes from landing, and I made my way to baggage claim to grab my luggage. I followed the signs and made it to the proper conveyor to see this six foot, 300 lb. suited, black bear with shades on and a phone to his ear. He was deep in conversation while waiting for me, as he turned his back and unknowningly showed off that sweet ass of his. I managed to sneak behind him to poke him in the back, as I rattled him and made him turn.
"Girl, lemme call you back," he said in his deep, sensual voice.
