Just My Thoughts

I love to keep things fresh, exciting and spontaneous. So as I evolve so must the “Girl Talk” sessions at gbleu.com. I introduce to you for the spring and summer the “Which Way?” Series. This is how it works; I will tell a story of a female who has an undeniable talent for getting herself into precarious predicaments and sticky situations. The story will be continuous thought the summer, but the readers will decide “Which Way?” our heroin goes to get herself out of whatever she has gotten herself into. The readers (female of course) will have a choice of 3 possible moves that will be presented in a poll. The most popular choice decides the direction of the character unless you ladies can come up with a cool 4^Th choice that can be submitted by any creative female mind. I will post the coolest 4^Th option and use it in the confines of the on-going story. If yours is chosen then you win any 2 items in the online store free of charge! So let’s get to it shall we?

     Naive Niesha was a naughty girl. At 23 years young she was a hot mess. She was built by the gods of lust and sin and stacked like a card shark's deck in Vegas. From toe to crown she was all that, a bag of chips and a 50 cent juice. Her tender size sevens always wore steep heels with nails that stayed done daily. Body butter drenched her long thick legs colored like a coconut’s shell. They were always exposed for she wore nothing but the shortest of dresses made shorter by her ridiculous healthy rounded ass and hips. This was no baby fat, this was muscle made to look supple. You can tell by the flatness of her adorable navel, which like her toes and legs stay exposed as well. She flosses a 2 karat diamond in the closed door of her belly. A trophy from one of the many men she seduces with her tear shaped breast that suggested that the lobby was chilly. Most men would only glance at her face for the shortest of moments, for she had a swagger of older women who never felt the pain of loss. Some of us feel this pain early, while others don’t till late in life. It just depends on when the devil decides to look us in the face. Speaking of which, having  the thickest red lips, almond shaped eyes and a short bob cut that complimented her face which was simply beautiful.

       She has always looked at men with great disdain. Figuring “they all just want one thing anyway” so she would dress provocatively and hit them up for every penny. This night she was tired of the scams and bullshit chit-chat. Tired of the corny lines men say and tired of acting like she was interested in their fictional conquest of power and status. She was tired of running from city to city, with another fake name, and another fake ID. But most of all she was tired of feeling empty as well as paranoid that the cops would finally catch up with her. On this night we find her inside of the trendy lobby of the “W” hotel on the perimeter of Atlanta, GA. She splurged her “winnings” on a cocktail dress, she bought at the mall across the street just to change things up. She sat at the bar and flirted some free sushi from the ever blushing bartender. She did not people watch like she always does nor did she look for her next black credit card owning victim.

       That’s when she met Trevor. Like a magician, out of nowhere he appeared deep inside her personal space. His rugged good looks and his smooth sense of whit layed her guard down casually. He lightly poked fun at the way she held her chop sticks for the sushi as well as teased her for still having the tag on her cocktail dress. (She was not used to being on the defensive and that made her curious) Curious to have a drink on him, (Which she spilled most of when he went to the bathroom) curious to chop up a well needed intellectual conversation and curious enough to accept a passenger seat inside of his pearl black Mercedes Benz. Off they go, into the chilled air of the north Georgian suburbs enjoying the ride and conversation until a strong feeling of sleepiness blankets her like cold sheets in a strange home. She rests her head on the passenger side glass because her head feels heavy. Trevor stares at her a few seconds before snapping his attention back on the road. He then looks at watch as well as the one on the car’s radio lit up with a dim green glow. She has one eye slightly open. Niesha is watching him through thin strands of the bob cut that covers her left eye.

BUT WHAT SHOULD SHE DO???

1) Should she run to the empty policee car?

2) She should run inside of the Waffle House?

3)She should ask the two men in the SUV for help?

Go to gbleu.com to help Niesha out!