A few years ago, I couldn’t tell you a thing about the NBA. I hated professional sports. I was, however a die hard college basketball fan. So when I met Hakim Warrick in person at my job, I was completely unaware that he’d been drafted into the NBA.When I mention that he looks familiar, his friend assumes that I am referring to the recent draft and say, “Yea, he just got drafted to the league. I politely congratulate him on his accomplishment and correct his friend, telling them that I remembered him from Syracuse, one of my favorite college teams. I even throw in some stats & highlights of the last couple of seasons and bring up the infamous 2003 block against Kansas so he’d know I am legit and not on some “groupie” shit. I can tell that it kinda throws him for a loop. When he recovers, he asks what I’m doing later. I say chilling at home with a good book. He tells me that he will be hitting up a popular party spot that night and that I should grab a friend and come. He puts my number in his phone, then gives me his number and says, “Just call me when you get there and I’ll come out and get you.” I don’t believe him, but I say I will think about it. I tell my girl about it and let her talk me into going. Like she said, “Whether he’s there or not, let’s just go out and have fun.”Meet my girl at the club (we drove separately), and I dial the number. Nothing. “See, I told you.” “Whatever,” she says. “It was worth a try. We’re here now. Let’s just go on in.” As we near the VIP line I hear my name being called. I turn and there he is. He tells me that he knew that he wouldn’t hear me if he answered the phone so when he saw my name come up, he just headed to the front. We get inside, bypass regular VIP, and end up in this “celeb/who’s who” infused area.We chill. We dance. We talk. We drink. He’s really possessive. Not allowing my attention to stray too far for too long, but it’s cool so I roll with it.3 in the morning, everyone is leaving. My girl has hooked up with a baller of her own so we trade stats, hug, and say goodnight with the promise to let each other know when we’ve made it home safely. Hakim walks me to my car, then asks if I will go back to his room with him. I decline and thank him for the night. He kisses my forehead and tells me good night, drive safely. I pull off and go home.I know, I know. Where’s the sex?About 30 minutes later, he calls and asks if I made it home safely. I say yes. He asks if I’m settled. I say not yet. He says he wishes I would have chosen to come hang with him instead of going home to my book. I tell him that he gave up too easily. He asks will I come. I say yes, give me an hour. He asks why I need an hour. I tell him I want to shower, get the club stench off of me. He says I can do that there. 20 minutes later, I’m calling him from the parking lot of his hotel. Again, he comes out to get me and we go upstairs to his suite. I fell in love with the master bath. While I was in that HEAVENLY shower, he went into the other bathroom to take one himself. When I come out of the bathroom he’s standing there wearing some practice shorts. I’m pull out a bottle of Palmer’s cocoa butter. He laughs when I say, I’m sorry, but ash is NOT sexy. He takes the bottle and says, “Let me do that for you.” That man has the greatest hands ever.He lotions me up and down, slightly massaging as his hands roam across my body. Soon his lips follow as he kisses a trail from my forehead to my toes, then back up to my inner thighs. I was somewhat relieved that he didn’t dive into the kitty. I mean, I wouldn’t have been mad, nor would I have stopped him, but I think I would have thought less of him considering that he didn’t know me well enough for something so intimate. When he stands to undress I reach into my purse, pull out my bullet, and start to play with my honey pot. He pulls out a very impressive piece of meat. I’m not going to say it was “soooooooooo huge” (that’s so cliche), but it looked to be a good 8 and a half inches and very thick. And I could have sworn it winked at me. “Let me handle that,” he tells me. And handle it he does. Between the bullet and his fingers I cum so hard my teeth rattle.Finally, he slides on a condom and eases inside of me. His width makes him have to take it slow until my body adjusts so he holds my legs in his arms and slow grinds until I’m shivering, shaking, and babbling incoherently. He pulls, replaces the rubber, then lie on the bed. I climb on top of him and ease down on that pole, determined to rock him to sleep. Shit was too good, though, because soon enough I begin shivering and shaking. He flips me over quickly and we go from love making to straight up f**kin’ in 2 seconds. He’s digging in from behind, and it seems like no matter how hard we throw it, we just can get close enough. I reach back for him. Tell him to hold my hands like reins and ride to sh*t out of me. Oh. My. Gosh. Shit. Was. AMAZING!Afterwards, I take another shower and prepare to leave. He asks me to stay. We sleep in the other bedroom seeing as how we demolished the bed in the master bedroom. I do the “early-wake-up-go-wash-my-face-brush-my-teeth-and-fluff-my-hair” thing. About 15 minutes later he wakes up. We have sex again, then he follows me in his car to a nearby spot where we have a late breakfast/early lunch. He kisses me on my forehead and we part ways.
The writer of this tale wanted to add a brief note:
“Hakim and I actually ended up having sex a few more times while he was here, the last time being about a month before he was traded. I would never make it more than it was and try to call it some type of relationship. It wasn’t. It was just that whenever we’d run into each other we’d make plans to get together. We’d do our thing, he’d kiss my forehead, and that was that until the next time which would be anywhere from 3-8 months later. The last time I saw him was in March of 2010 when his team was here to play. I hung with him for about an hour in the player’s lounge before his team had to leave for the airport. Hakim is a really good lover. He’s attentive, versatile, and has great stamina. He’s gentle when he needs to be and rugged when it’s time for that gentle crap to fly. I give him 5 gold stars for performance and longevity.”