He texted "you up?" at 11:40 on a Tuesday. Six weeks later that same man asked me where this was going. Let me walk you through what happened in between.
Let me introduce him. Coasting on a jawline and good lighting for eight months. Says "we should link." Does not link. Available strictly between 11pm and 2am and strictly when it works for HIM.
And I let it ride because he was fun. But somewhere in there it got lopsided. He stopped putting in effort because he figured out he didn't have to.
He got comfortable. Big mistake.
So I restocked
For me. Put that on the record. Bought the Can I Come Over Bundle on a Sunday after a week that beat me up.
But I'd be lying if I said I didn't know exactly what I was doing when I told him he could come through Friday 😌
The everyday stuff
Sweet Like Honey and Bomb Kitty had already been running in the background for weeks. Wash, two drops of oil on warm skin, done. Fresh, soft, smelling like something expensive. That part isn't the story, it's just the floor everything else stands on.
Friday. One pop.
That's it. That's the whole strategy. One Big O pop before he got there.
Nobody sees you do it. Nothing sitting on the counter, no packaging for a man to pick up and go "what's this?" You handle it, you put your earrings in, and he walks in with NO idea anything's been arranged.
And it hits that same night. Not two weeks later — that night.
Tight. Held. Grip he can feel the second things start, plus wet enough that nothing needed help from a bottle. Both at once. And everything on my end turned all the way up — I felt every bit of it in a way I hadn't in months.
Two hours in he tried to say something and gave up halfway through the sentence. I have never watched a man lose his train of thought that completely 😭
He couldn't get the sentence out. Not one time.
He didn't leave that night. He asked to stay.
Then the man CHANGED
Started texting at normal human hours. Asked what I was doing Saturday — in advance, like somebody with a calendar. Remembered where I work.
Six weeks later he asked where this was going.
And here's the twist nobody warns you about: by then I didn't want it to go nowhere. Not playing games either. A month of taking care of myself had quietly moved what I thought I was worth, and this man spent eight months proving he was a Tuesday-at-11:40 kind of investment.
I said I'd think about it. I have not thought about it.
The real point
It's a funny story but the useful part isn't him. It's that I built something for myself and how I got treated changed as a side effect.
The bundle didn't make him show up early with clean hair. I did that, by deciding I was somebody worth showing up early for.
Restock. Keep a jar in the drawer for the nights you decide are worth it. And next time somebody hits you with "you up?" at 11:40 — you'll notice you don't even feel like answering. That'll tell you everything.
