Dirty on the Inside

“What a beautiful specimen,” are the words I uttered quietly the first time I saw Darious.

I was studying for my Legal Research and Writing mid-term at the library when he strolled in. He looked like a Michelangelo creation that could breath, walk, and talk.

Cassie, the girl at the reception desk, seemed to find him attractive as well. As soon as she saw him she arched her back to show off the artificial boobs spilling from her tight, low cut sweater; leaned across the desk; and asked “how can I help you” in a soft, sultry, tone.

“I reserved a copy of the Republican War on Science by Chris Mooney and was told I could pick it up today,” he said without looking at the “twin peaks” that were pushed up for his viewing pleasure.

Knowing her attempt to get his attention had failed; she said “ok” and tried again.

“Not the drop, bend, and flick move,” I thought when she dropped the book, bent over at her waist with straight legs to show off her bottom, and flicked her body upwards causing her pendulous breast to quake.

He still didn’t bite. Instead, he took the book; looked into my direction; walked over, and asked, “Just out of curiosity, were you watching me or her?”

“I wasn’t doing either,” I answered embarrassingly. He had a lot of nerve coming over to my table, disturbing me while I was studying.

“Since you won’t be honest, I will,” he said then pulled out a chair. He didn’t sit in it. He placed his huge left foot on it and rested his elbow on his knee. “I’m Darious. I saw you from the second level and called down her to reserve a book so that I could get a closer look.”

The man was mesmerizing and just my type: smart with just enough thug in him to cause me to tingle down below. “And?” I asked trying not to sound too turned on.

“And apparently I liked what I saw. I’m standing here aren’t I?”

I should have known he was trouble when he went down on me under a table in a private study room in the back of the library less than an hour later. Caught up in his oral skills I passionately returned the favor after applying my grandmother’s sage advice: “baby, always check his piece. If it don’t look right, walk away.” It looked delicious.

We had some awesome times together. A few weeks ago we had a pregnancy scare. Boy was I happy when the second line didn’t show up on the EPT. However, the damage was already done. I had told him that I wasn’t ready for a baby and would have an abortion immediately if the results were positive. He was a pro-lifer and left me because he couldn’t be with a baby killer.

The break-up has been tough on me because he was my first. When I went to my sister to bash him, she took his side saying, “Honey, there are things far worse than being single and pregnant.”

She was right. The doctor just told me that I’m HIV positive.

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