So about a month ago, I started following this guy on twitter (not Pecs). For the sake of this blog, let’s call him Nightfox or NF for short. NF is really private. So much so that people don’t even know who he is in real life. In fact, it was my own personal belief that he might actually be a she. This dude had some pretty funny things to say, some of my friends were following him, and so I thought what the hell. He has a decent following, so something must be interesting. I guess some of his tweets were funny. Well, funny enough for me to respond to, and of course he dug that, because before I knew it, we were g-chatting.
I liked the conversations I was having with NF. He reminded me of a 12-year old stuck in a 20-something body which consequently is the story of my life. I was intrigued, to say the least, that I was chatting with a faceless voice of the internet, being more than envious of his faithful following and badly wanting to meet the face behind the charisma, charm, and articulation that was his blog. I knew given the chance, I’d jump him. I knew right away he was interested, but NF played it cool. I knew that if he met me, I could have easily had my way with him, I’m more than convincing. The plan was to just have him meet me and see where it went. So we made plans to meet in the park for a coffee (okay at this point I thought the dude might be gay).
A week later, I started chit chatting with Pecs (who I befriended via NFs twitter page). Ironically, it turns out NF and Pecs are actually friends, which figures. They went to school together, they work out together, blah blah blah. So I thought to myself, fine, if NF wants to play his stupid mind games, what the hell, I’ll make plans to sleep with his hot friend, Pecs, who’s face I knew and pecs I wanted to know. Congratulate me.
I don’t think NF cared that I was sleeping with his friend, I mean he should because it’s me, but at least his buddy was getting some right? In any event, as per my last post, I made plans to meet Pecs for a down and dirty tryst. Coincidentally NF and I made plans to meet on the same day. I figured I could meet NF in the park, have conversations, and leave him hard in the park as I left to ride his friend, like a classic asshole.
All day, I was more nervous to meet NF than Pecs. Not only was he faceless, I was so taken with his writing that I couldn’t even focus on the questions I had planned on asking him if I ever met him. Yeah, it was that serious. And at this point, I was so nervous, I didn’t even want to sleep with him. I just wanted to meet him. I was mad at myself for not being able to calm the nervous energy in me. I’m that confident asshole who gets what she wants. Why I couldn’t relax, was beyond me.
I’m not an idiot. I made a plan to have my trainer and few boxing buddies meet me at the park to scope out the scene to make sure I was safe. NF could be a crazy berretta-wielding nutcase, right? I was smart about that. Found a seat on the south side of the park and listened to music to get me in the mood for my tryst with Pecs later. NF arrived early, and my heart was beating in my chest like a little bitch.
He was seated elsewhere in the park so I agreed to stroll around and locate him (in his black shirt, jeans, and “sexy shades” – his words, not mine). I threw on my natural sexy air of confidence and strolled to the east side of the park. I walked down the path, and looked to my left, and saw him. Black shirt, jeans, and sexy shades. It was NF, and it was Pecs. Pecs was NF. NF was Pecs.
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