Right time. Right place The girl has game I have to admit. Added my insatiable appetite which left me wide open for this. That’s why today you find your boy sitting in front of his computer trying to hold back a fit. How did I let this chick get in? How did I let her get under my skin? I piped her really good. You know, “Joe the Plumber”. Yet before she left, I knew I would not see her around this summer. I did not want to hold on to her. I just wanted to have that option. Getting a girl stuck emotionally, now that’s real pimping. But see that‘s the problem I could not get her stuck. I showed her some of my best moves yet I had no luck. Now I’m stuck, with a bunch of ill feelings; like she was my high. Now I’ll spend the next few days sobering up! If she ever read this, she may leave laughing, grinning, it will probably pump her head. Did I really do that? Did I really put that brother to bed? Not willing to admit that she’s is a pro. She was in the right place at the right time. Just the right woman to blow my mind. I pressed my lips to hers at first meeting, first time. There in the club we start our own grind. Chemistry of the physical touch and emotions were blending in this cramp, dark space. Right here in this club, right time right place. If she ever read this, She’d think to herself she is the ish. This may be part two of “Oh yeah I’ve been pu**y whipped”. Did my tongue touch hers yet I did not know her? French kissed in the first five minutes, man I should have got the hell away from her. Breaking cardinal rules player, about kissing on the first date. No holding close quarters; at least until we consummate. Woke up Tuesday morning longing for your embrace. Not a word from you since Saturday; An undesired, yet expected fate. This ain’t supposed to happen. I’ve got some feelings I can’t readily shake. I trace my missteps back to Friday night. Right time. Right place. Was it a misstep that I stepped in to your world? There you called all the shots. You played boy and I played girl. Who would have saw this coming? And what was I supposed to do? Tuesday morning I awaken; all of your sweet caresses are days gone; now I’m feeling slightly blue. Y’all brothas laughing at me. Y’all think I’m soft, you all think I’m some kind of fool. Yes, if she ever read this letter she would know exactly what to do. She would delete my number from her list. She would forget that I even called. Leave me with those memories of being in that club; where she used her small frame to pin me against the wall. When recalling this incident, I keep my composure. As to save myself from disgrace. I keep all of my feelings within the edges of this paper and it’s permitted space. From here I can safely recall the excitement, the mystery the fulfillment, the traces of emptiness all originating from that bar/club. The right time. The right place.