Before you read the story below… read about how we met…
After Bunny and I met that one fateful night at Hudson’s and drove away in my Lamborghini/house, we had a romantic evening under the waxing moon at a point overlooking the city called “Boner’s (pronounced Bonner’s) Paradise”.
My old ride. And house.
She had a good time discovering all the tattoos I had hidden under my clothes… and I had good time trying to differentiate what was real and what wasn’t.
Seeing that I was on all different kinds of illegal testosterone enriched muscle enhancers to give me the edge in my cage matches… my head was literally about to explode with the realization that I might be able to get a preview of her not yet released Playboy issue in person!! I had never seen a more beautiful creature in my life.
Despite my rough exterior lay the heart of a man wanting nothing more than to find the woman of his dreams. The woman of my dreams didn’t have to be cosmetically enhanced in every way possible, have men throwing money at her on every coastal city in the US and (unbeknownst to me) be ranked in the top 10 of “Maxim’s Hot 100” list. But… it just happened that she was all of those things.
What I clearly didn’t know was that beneath Bunny’s plastic exterior… there was a heart of a moral girl not wanting to be looked at like a real life Barbie doll… but like a “lady”. She was a lady who wanted to be rescued from her life of being ogled by passers-by and solicited by escort services with promises of raking in more money than the Sultan of Brunei.
Bunny could have made more money than this guy…
She had a soul and despite the fact I happened to be the hottest, strongest, most tattooed piece of man meat she’d ever seen she was willing to forgo the impending titillation to see if that slow motion fight sequence she’d seen at Hudson’s several hours earlier was really an indication of love at first sight… or lust at first sight. There had to be more to me than just muscles, tattoos and badass dance moves.
Something just felt right when she looked into my bloodshot eyes.
“Could he be the one?” She thought to herself!
“Boobies.” I slowly kept repeating to myself.
I had never seen such fabulous lady lumps in all my life. They were a perfect defiance of the laws of physics and gravity. They both sat there staring at me… waiting for me to introduce myself.
She sat close to me and forced small talk from her chemically enhanced lips that seemed to slap together forcefully whenever she accentuated a word. This made me want to kiss her.
I sat close enough to her to realize that her deep green eyes really were green… and not contacts. Perhaps it was the only quality physical attribute that wasn’t somehow corrected by means of tucking, cutting, adding or enhancing.
As she talked the wind blew her blond extensions and she shivered a bit. Her extensions blew and tickled my arm that I had strategically placed around her shoulders in the first step of a carefully orchestrated plan to kiss her pouty lips.
I grew nervous.
I suddenly began to doubt the situation. Despite the impressive display of strength, agility and sheer hero qualities I had displayed at Hudson’s earlier… I feared I would never be able to provide for her on a monetary level.
“Provide?” I thought to myself, “I hardly know this girl and I’m already thinking about providing for her! I must be crazy”. Despite my best efforts to push the thought into oblivion… I couldn’t shake it!
There was something more here than just physical attraction.
“I’m just a poor NHB fighter.” I thought to myself. “I could never give this girl what she wanted. She needs the Prince of Persia, King of France or Lord of the Dance. All I have are some bulging veins, 22-inch biceps and the teeth of those I’ve knocked out tied to an old piece of dental floss around my neck! I don’t have a castle, Rolls Royce or expensive attack dogs! I spent all the money I had on this Lamborghini that I live in! Who am I kidding! I don’t have a chance!”
Despite being able to pound dudes in the ring (like this fight I had back in ’02… that’s me in the camo shorts) I was unable to feel secure with a woman as caliente as Bunny
You could visibly see the veins in my arms slowly deflate and recess between my sinewy muscles as my confidence simply disappeared at the realization I probably wasn’t much more to her than another notch on the handle of her Gucci purse.
She noticed my deflation and said, “Why don’t we call it a night?”
I felt more deflated.
Not realizing she just wanted to remove herself from a situation that could get physical too soon… I interpreted it to mean she didn’t like me. I may have had an exterior covered with tattoos, skin pulled tight from muscles screaming to tear from my body and scars but inside I realized there was a man just wanting a good woman by his side.
Perhaps… she wasn’t “the one”.
I pulled the car out from between the oak tree and dumpster where we were parked and started the drive back towards the city.
After a quick stop at 7-11 to get gas (which she paid for because I lost my wallet), I arrived at her upscale gated apartment community on the upper side of town where only models were allowed to live.
Bunny’s former living arrangements…
She leaned over the driver’s side seat to punch in the gate code through my window. I could feel the pressure of the weight she was carrying in her tube top.
My heart raced.
I stopped by her apartment building and leaned to give her a hug. She countered my attempt and we embraced for a moment.
“Ask her for her number!” I thought to myself.
“Ask me for my number!” She thought to herself.
“It would never work.” I thought
“You may be poor as crap and live in your Lamborghini but we can make it work!” She thought.
We both sensed the unbelievable pull towards each other but the parallels between Romeo and Juliet were just too similar.
She was a Playboy model… I was a poor NHB fighter.
She lived in a high price apartment community… I lived in my Lamborghini.
She was flawless and beautiful… I was beaten and bruised
She was entirely made of plastic… I wasn’t.
We released the hug we’d shared and she waved a cute little “good-bye” wave despite only being in the passenger seat… merely a foot away.
I smirked and nodded and didn’t ask for her number. I didn’t think she would have given it to me.
I enjoyed what I believed to be my last moments of watching the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. They were good moments because she just so happened to live on the third floor. Watching her glutes flex then release after each step she took up the staircase were clearly visible through the skin-tight daisy duke shorts she wore. Her calves sharply flexed with each step as I was sure it was hard to stabilize on 10-inch heels. As the lights in the stairwell cast varying degrees of shadows over her body as she moved… I could clearly see the definition in her back and arms.
“Whoever her trainer is… he deserves a Nobel Prize for that work.” I thought to myself.
Without having to endure the pain of watching her walk away anymore I pulled out of my parking space and sped out of the complex.
I looked in my rear view mirror longingly at the apartment complex.
“Goodbye my love.” I whispered.
“Goodbye my love.” She whispered as she turned the key to her apartment and flicked on the light in the living room.
There in her living room sat Hugh Hefner and three very large body guards.
A startled Bunny shouted “Hughey… what are you doing here?! You scared me to death!”
Hugh stared from underneath his old man sunglasses and said, “I told you I was going to make you mine… and I’m here to do that right now.”
The three men slowly walked from their post towards Bunny. One was carrying duct tape, one was carrying rope and the other wasn’t carrying anything… he was just there to learn how to kidnap girls for Hugh Hefner.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” she shouted as they easily overtook her in the kitchen as she was trying to grab anything sharp to defend herself with… but could only come up with a potato peeler.
Her phone suddenly rang. It broke me from the trance I was in. I looked over and saw the passenger side seat light up from the iPhone accidentally left there by Bunny. It was her friend Sasha who she had left at Hudson’s earlier in the evening.
My heart suddenly raced again, “She forgot her phone! Perhaps this is a sign… I’m getting a second chance!” I thought to myself.
Without waiting for a legal U-turn opportunity, I cut across the grassy median of the highway and sped towards Bunny’s apartment to return her phone.
TO BE CONTINUED….
Will I kick Hugh Hefner’s ass?
What will happen to Bunny?
How much of this story is true and how much is a complete ruse?
You’ll have to keep on reading to find out….