For Women Who Want The Ballerific Life!
We as women, often develop the misconception that we have to do whatever these sought after ballers want us to do. From the way we look, the way we act, and even when we decide to have sex. Very seldom do we act in ways that we want; instead we act in ways that is appealing to them.
Sex, for instance is a major tool used by all men to sort-of dictate our moves and define our place and positions in their worlds. When we give it up, how we give it up, and how often all play a part in etching-in-stone who you are to ballers and any man for that matter. In a sea full of guppies, willing to do whatever whenever for these baller men, sex is a major source of differentiating the groupies from the women. I never knew how much sex mattered in a relationship until I developed an undefinable relationship with Lance Stephenson of the Indiana Pacers. For starters, I went into the situation with the worst mentality and mindset ever. At the time, Lance was a bench warming rookie for the Pacers. My love of basketball made me aware of whom the Coney Island star was. He was an amazingly talented athlete who had allowed the street life of NY dictate is actions and image to the public. His time in the NBA was almost cut short do to the domestic dispute of him pushing the mother of his child down a few flights of stairs; all of this hit the press and online media and social networking sites at the birth of his first NBA season.
Shortly after, he was in the press again for not paying the Twitter famous Candy DeepThroat, after she performed her rendition of oral services on him in NY. Not only did she put him on blast and slander what was left of his already tarnished name, but she also posted his phone number for the entire social media world to see. Needless to say he was on the brink of losing his dream. I looked at him as a helpless and young boy who had gotten caught up in this whole NBA fame b******* with no guidance on what to do with his new notoriety. I saw so much potential and hope in him, and I knew it was only a matter of time before he became a key marketing player for the Pacers. What I wanted to do was help him grow as a man and support him to the fullest so that he could be the best he could be. In an arena full of takers, I wanted to be the one that would give everything to him and in return, he would hold just as true to me.
Social networking seemed to be the avenue in which I was able to connect to a lot of these athletes. I followed Lance, paid attention to whom he hung with and finally met his cousin “HoodStar”. When Star made her usual monthly appearances to Indy to visit, I made sure I was around so that I could interact with Lance. Star invited me over to Lance’s house where lance, his cousin Wax, and his mother and father lived. The first time I met Lance, he was sitting on the couch like the little boy he is playing Spiderman while wax rolled a blunt. I was mesmerized. He was so beautiful, so young, and seemingly so stupid but I wanted everything to do with him. I never made eye contact with Lance, but I could feel his eyes scoping out every bit of my body. No one informed me that his “cousin” Star was a freaking lesbian, so her multiple passes at me only pissed me off and made it uncomfortable for me to bear. I wanted to hold out on leaving, because were warming up the more he glanced at me. My perfectly planned evening was cut dramatically short when Star took me outside and suggested that she, I, and Lance have a threesome.
I was immediately disgusted because for one I would have never f***** a girl, let-a-lone a big bear looking one, and secondly I was not going to f*** someone who was interested in f****** her cousin. After her horrifying suggestion, I grabbed my s*** and took my ass home. I was so shitty because I have never wanted a man as much as I wanted Lance, and that big-bear-b**** ruined my plans.
About an hour or so after I left his home, I noticed that he followed me on Twitter, Instagram, and I had received a text from a number that I didn’t recognize that read “come bak”. I knew exactly who it was and felt chills all over my body at the thought of him wanting me. I was a little confused because I didn’t understand how he thought it was okay to f*** his cousin. He explained to me that she was actually a friend of his mothers and that she was only in town to him with promoting parties, or some s*** like that. After he reassured me that there wasn’t anything weird going on, I replied back letting him know that it was too late to go to his house and that we would be able to kick it again some other time.
From that point on he began texting me more frequently, especially when he was out on the road. He was just coming being on the road when he text me asking where I was. He was in Philly about to head home, I was out a restaurant with a few of my friends when he instructed me to stay where I was and that his plane would touch down in 45 minutes. Sure enough it was an hour later when I received a text that read “I’m outside”. I grabbed my purse and headed to his then, all black Camero. “I have been thinking about you for some reason ever since you came over when Star was in town” he said. “Oh yea? Well I only hit Star because I wanted you. I didn’t know anybody that actually knew you and I wasn’t going to approach you in a freaking club so She seemed like my only way to you” I admitted. While we were talking, he was driving, and while he was driving I saw him begin to unbuckle his Gucci belt. “Put both of your hands on the wheel” I said trying to give demands. “What for? I know how to drive and do s*** at the same time” he said. “Just put your f****** hands on the steering wheel dammit”! He just looked at me and did exactly as I said. With both of his hands on the wheel, I unbuckled my seatbelt, planted both of my knees in the seat with my ass planted on the passenger seat window, and I began to unbuckle his belt and undo all the other extra things necessary to unveil his d***.
Once I had it in my hand, I slowly stuck the entire thing in my mouth. The most rewarding thing of the entire experience was hearing him gasp and feeling the car jerk immediately after I placed my tongue on the tip of his d***. I made sure I was doing everything delicately and perfectly because I had to keep him, my plan was in full effect and I had to do whatever to keep him here. About 10 minutes into me giving him what he called “the best head of his life” we pulled into a dimly lit alley way and parked. I swear it was the most romantically unromantic thing I have ever done. It was like a scene that he had seen in a movie. He turned on his high-beam-lights and began to strip out of everything except his sneakers, and I did just the same. The scene was so perfect, we were in an alley surrounded with old buildings on a cobblestone street way, not sure if that’s how he planned it, but it was amazing. I was kind of nervous because I was afraid someone would see us, but he had no care in the world as to who saw. We started on the passenger seat, my hands planted on the seat, ass in the air, and feet on the ground. I felt him grab me by waste and my mind began anticipating the moment he slid inside of me. I felt what seemed like him falling inside, but the feeling was very faint and confusing. It wasn’t until I looked back and saw that he actually was inside, virtually as deep inside that he could possibly go. That was the first of many disappointments that were to come with him. I decided I was going to make do with his lacking penis and put on a show. I began to yell and scream out his name, boosting his confidence, making it seemed I loved every second of this displeasure. The more I pretended the rowdier and cocky he grew. At the peak of it all he pulled out and walked to the front of the car and positioned me in the middle of the two beaming lights where he kissed me intently, all the while stroking his d*** to keep from going limp. He took his other hand and grabbed me by my neck and forced my back to the hood of his car where his hand stayed mounted on my neck. Somehow, he managed to keep ahold of my neck while taking his head downward using his tongue to moisten my now non-aroused vagina. Lances tongue definitely made up where his d*** lacked. My mind went from not wanting anything to do with this pathetic excuse for sex, to actually being mentally controlled by his actions. When he stuck his d*** in again, I definitely felt it that time. By this time I was lost in some euphoric world that only consisted of myself and Lance in the midst of these beaming lights. He had both of my arms stretched across the car, holding both of my wrists down as if his hands were like resistance cuffs. Our world was interrupted by the sound of another car pulling up and flickering of red and blue lights. With the police car pulled up, Lanced ordered me to get in the car. I refused, telling him that if some s*** was going to go down, it would happen to both of us that I was in this with him. The cop never got out of the car; he just pulled up close enough to make eye contact with Lance via his passenger window. I knew that our ass-was-grass and that this situation would be another epidemic that would shatter his image and career forever. “Isn’t it a little late for you to be out young man? You have practice in the morning I’m sure” the police officer said. Lance looked nervous out if his mind before he said “yes sir it is, I was just finishing up”. “Well hurry up and make sure you turn you lights off” the police officer instructed before he drove off. My heart nearly jumped out of my chest after the officer left. I grabbed my fragments of clothing and began putting them back on before Lance grabbed them out my hands. “We ain’t done, I didn’t even get to nut yet”. Unknowing to me, that entire night defined our relationship. I had given myself to him on the second day of us seeing each other, and somehow to me that was okay. I figured that since we pretty much talked every day and our relationship seemed relatively close, that my actions were okay.
Lesson #8: Never give it up prematurely Never ever let your relationship be defined by sex. When you have sex on the first night with someone, you are either A.) a one night stand or B.) there known option for sex that they don’t have to work for. The easier you give it up, the easier it is to simply be looked at as sex in their eyes. These men like competition. They get paid to compete and play games for God’s sake! Play the same game with them, tease him with the simple thought of having sex with you until the moment is right, and if he can’t wait then forget him; he’s not worth the emotional disconnect that will always come with just being someone’s option for sex. Ballers have thousands of women throwing themselves at them all the time, 90% of those women willing to have sex with them. So let those women be the ones to give it up first while you cultivate your place and purpose in his life. Whatever Lance wanted, I was there at his beckon call. I did whatever he wanted. If I was out grocery shopping and he called me- I came running, If I was working- I found a way to accommodate his need for my time, and if he was away on the road- I almost always found a way to get to him at my own expense. I allowed him to use my body and poison my mind with the idea of our foundation being based upon sex was completely okay. Unlike most of the other men I had been with before him, I was with him. I helped him with his kids; I built his name in my city making him a popular name within Indianapolis. Once he was allowed off the bench, his ray of talent shined brighter than I even imagined it would. I did everything I said I would and was going to do for him. I loved Lance intently and I believed in him more than he actually believed in himself. I looked out for him in ways that he never knew. In some sick way he completed me. The fact that he needed me made me feel more of a woman in his eyes. I stood behind him in all that he did and he knew it. But he was young, a rising NBA star, and finally for the first time experiencing all the perks that came with being a professional basketball player. The women now came in packs, the diamonds around his neck became bigger, and the designer names that adorned the tags on his clothing became more expensive and relevant. He was finally living the life he had always dreamed about, and who was I to take that from him all because I wanted him for myself? It was his time to shine and I wanted to make sure that happened for him. All the attention that Lance was getting meant that my time with him was cut short. The frequent text messages began to become less frequent, his need to see me was non-existent, and our connection diminished to the point that I seemed to be irrelevant due to all the other women becoming more relevant in his life. He even told me that if he was older and ready to settle down in life, he would wife me then and there. He promised to love me and always be there for me no matter what I needed. It was pretty apparent that the sun had set on our time together. Minus the very rare dinner dates, and random meetings for sex, we had nothing. But the moment I found out I was pregnant by him was such an amazing ordeal, knowing that I had a little him inside of me seemed to feel a vacant spot in my soul that had been there ever since I was a child. I wanted nothing more than to keep our child. He even told me to keep it and hoped that it was a little boy, but I couldn’t. With having his child, that would mean I would be taking from him instead of giving. He had given me life; conceiving was something I was unable to do and for some reason or another it happened with him. I choose to terminate the pregnancy because I couldn’t take from him. I had been such an asset to his life and career, and now I meant so little to him. I became sex to him. The only time we ever talked was because he wanted to “hit-it-again-like-old-times”. I let him develop a pattern with me that was emotionally damaging. I should have drawn the line and ended the relationship before I began to be treated like a toy. Because I never said no, and went back to our foundation only being about sex, I was left with less than what I came to the relationship with. That empty spot that I thought was filled only became emptier, and it seemed my value was depreciated because I allowed him to use me. Even to this day, I would still do whatever he needed or wanted from me because his holds such a firm grip on my love for some reason. If you hit the button on my iPhone, you would see his face in the background. I get so excited and proud now when I see his face on billboards, on TV, and even seeing his name in the ESPN notifications that pop up on my phone. But what p***** me off the most is that the women with him now, are only here because of me. I helped him get to where he was now. It was my faith, support, and love that motivated him to grown and become the amazing person he is today. Somehow, I feel like our chapter has yet to have an ending. Until that time, I sit courtside supporting him from the sidelines and showering him with my love from afar.