Hold up! Hold up! Hold up! Wait a minute now before you start cussing me out, ok?
Now, first of all – he ain’t no child, ok? He’s probably older than me! He’s a grown a$$ man. A very grown-a$$ man. A very sexy, very grown-a$$ man
and I’d sure as heck like to put my hands on his grown a$$.
Second, I take my role as a teacher very seriously…
Third, he is so hot! Like John Legend in a bath of whipped cream during a heatwave level hot! Amen!
Fourth, this guy wouldn’t give me the time of day. In fact, if I wasn’t his tutor, he wouldn’t have anything to do with my mongrel-looking self. So, it’s not like I’m trying to get with him or hoping to get with him or as if I think I have any chance of getting with him. And he’s my student, so…
I just think he’s hot. Being his tutor doesn’t make me suddenly blind to what a fine-a$$ mother he is!
I’d actually only tutored him once until today and was almost thinking maybe I imagined he was really hot, like maybe he wasn’t actually that hot and I’d just misremembered. I was having this argument with myself on the way to my second lesson with him. I’m a Gemini (the twin sign) and we Geminians all have multiple-personality disorder.
While walking down the corridor, one of me was like “He was so hot!” and the other me was like, “Nah, he wasn’t that hot, you’re misremembering” and the other me was like, “No, he was hot, I’m sure of it!” and the other me was like, “Well, we’ll see in a few minutes.”
Then I turned the corner and there he was at a computer. And, damn, he wasn’t just hot, he was even hotter than I remembered. Me, myself and I totally hi-5’ed each other. Man, he’s smokin’! Baby, baby, baby, come to momma!
Look, anyone who knows me – which is probably nobody because I have no friends – but if someone did know me they’d know that I have the sex drive of a cactus. A dead cactus. A dead cactus in an old, dead, dry desert. Ok? In case you were thinking I get the hots for every guy I see or something. I am dead from the waist down. In fact, I’m surprised there ain’t cobwebs and spiders down there, and bats coming out. My point is, it takes one hell of a guy to make me soft and wet, honey.
Part of the problem is I’m not attracted to 99.9% of dudes. Because I like a very specific type of guy. And on the rare occasions that I’m lucky enough to meet my type of guy, something goes wrong – the last one was married with kids, the one before was an arrogant c*nt, the one before that turned out to be a crazy stalker and his kisses tasted like sh** (:shudder:). The guy I was crushing on before that was the artist, Prince, so, y’know, kinda out of my league, and Little Richard never visits me so f*** him!
Quite often the guys I like are already taken or they have kids or other baggage or they’re players or they’re a$$holes, or we want different things – oh and the big thing is that usually they’re not interested in me – at all – because they’re hot, sexy, good-looking, smooth, hot, sexy, genius black guys and I’m this creepy, emaciated, spotty, frizzy-haired, bug-eyed, E.T-fingered, white, urchin creature, so…. It’s hard enough to get a dude if you’re good-looking and not picky about who you date. If you’re ugly and picky, well, you don’t stand much chance.
It’s not that I don’t date, but I end up having to date guys I’m not actually interested in and I don’t know how other women manage to fake enthusiasm for a guy they don’t give a sh** about. I used to date this fat white f**ker and he was so fat and white and would chew with his mouth open and he had dandruff in his hair and he smelled of sweat and he kept getting fatter and fatter and he ignored me all the time and kept looking at other women but would claim he “lurved” me. Pff! I was miserable. I thought, f**k this sh**! This fat f**ker makes being single look like winning the lottery!
Anyway, my hot student is probably married with 20 kids. And he’s my student. And he wouldn’t look at me even if he was available. But whatevs, a girl can dream, right?! Mhm, John Legend in a bath of whipped cream during a heatwave!