Latina Ex story: Kat (Yvonne) (Puerto Rican)
Kitty Kat Diva and the Longest Weekend
Kat, whose real name was Yvonne became a real thorn in my side over the course of a turbulent year in my life. I let her know about all I’d been through up to that point in my life where women were concerned, and I thought she was in New York like her Internet profile said, but she had moved back to Florida.
We instant messaged, and spoke infrequently. Kat had a light baby doll voice with a touch of husky. Everything that she said would add the words “Baby”. Kat said she was not working but thinking about coming back to New York for a job opportunity but didn’t have money to travel. Warning signs I ignored. Her profile picture on whatever site I saw her on was slightly blurred too. She said she wanted to meet me and around this time I had some money saved, and got a great roundtrip fare for a long weekend for just over one hundred dollars.
I met her at JFK airport and was stunned to see a beautiful Latin woman with dark expressive eyes, short and with bountiful breasts. We came back to my place and talked and talked. She told me about an ex-boyfriend of hers who was in jail for ten years who forced her to wait naked all day in his tiny apartment until he got home from work. “Yeesh, another crazy one, and what did I get myself into this time?”
We didn’t sleep together the first night (bad sign no. 1), but, by the second night things were better. I was wondering when she was going to go onto that job interview when she told me she wanted to stay longer, so I had to change her ticket back to Florida. A few days later, I was thinking to myself, I’m torn between throwing this chick out of my apartment, or curious to see where this is going.
Three days after we meet she told me she was going to see ‘so and so’, one of her sisters, and that she might stay the night there. I was like ‘”Ok”. That evening, Kat’s mother called my cell to speak with her, I said she was at ‘so and so’s’. Silence. Kat’s mom told me she didn’t know who that was, and that she was sorry Kat did that to me. I got the feeling I’d been had big time.
Two days later she came knocking on my door, a day after her flight back was scheduled and I freaking yelled and ranted and banged on the wall…I don’t hit women, but I was furious. She told me she was with the jailbird guy who treated her like shit, and it took going back to him and spending the night to realize she didn’t want to be with him anymore. I threw her the fuck out. She packed her bags crying. I told her not to contact me, and I didn’t give a fuck what happened to her. A week later she emailed me and said she was staying at her real sister’s place in Queens, and wanted to apologize to me.
I got some wild story from Kat that she was roaming the streets with an overnight bag and slept on a fire escape. Two days later she called her real sister who lived in Queens and went there.
A little background on this person…Back in the seventies and eighties she was into punk rock while all the other Latin ladies were into other forms of music. She also ran with the original Graffiti tagging crowd back in the day and (younger) images of her hanging out appear in some books. Somewhere along the way, she was a fetish model too, feet mainly, but never had a stable relationship that lasted that long (to my knowledge) and somehow became the Sub to some Dom just out of jail. Funny thing is she showed me this idiot’s Facebook page and his YouTube videos, and he while he looked harsh, there was something definitely femme about his constant posing sans shirts and baring of abs. Once, way after we were done and over, I was walking around the west side of Manhattan’s 14th street, the grungier section I would call it, and I saw this dude in the flesh, except that he was no hardened criminal type, he was a short fucker, and in a long-ish overcoat on a cold night I couldn’t believe he could get anyone to be a sub mistress. Some people will fall for anything if you can talk the talk.
Kat and I would flit in and out of each other’s lives over the next year and a half. She refused to work but had a bad cigarette habit. She would hang out with people who said would buy her cigs but I didn’t allow it after a while. She tried the fetish scene again, but I guess there wasn’t much demand for a fifty something woman…that is if she ever told me the truth.
Another thing was she had somehow become the legal guardian for this crazy psycho daughter of her own sister. This k** would call at all odd times, and was arrested often and put into juvenile detention, and eventually, prison. Out of curiosity I checked, and she was arrested as recently as a few months ago. In no way did I want this girl in my life as she had assaulted cops, doctors, and other people in Florida where she lived.
The few times we went out together Kat always wore dark sunglasses, and she would wear the shortest of skirts, her very round, sculpted ass was something to behold. I would catch guys watching her walk and I smiled, a half-smile really. You might well ask why I even put up with Kat at all.
It was the sex of course. Sometimes I miss the nights cuddled in bed and we would kiss and she would feed me her breasts, with very large nipples. She would moan when I would do that. She was a moaner for sure. Every morning before work she could see that I was excited and did not want me to go to work with a hard-on, so she would often bend over on the floor (after all she was a short woman and I’m well over six feet tall) and we would go at it until I couldn’t anymore, or would be late for work.
She used to wear one of my thick black bathrobes with nothing on underneath when I would come home from work. It got to the point where I had to tell her to wear something like lingerie underneath, ‘cause it made me want to fuck all the time.
How did this all come to an end? I got her a cell phone to keep in touch with family, friends and her insane daughter. If you read the story about wife no. 3 and how I busted her for cheating through the cell phone calls…yup, same thing here.
Kat never called me. I used to say “How come you never call or text me?” She said it was the man’s place to do that. Great sex or no, one day I start going through the cell phone records and saw hundreds of calls all day long, hundreds of texts. She said she was bored and it was just random people. End of the story. I made her pack and send all her stuff back to Florida and told her to leave.
Kat, whose real name was Yvonne became a real thorn in my side over the course of a turbulent year in my life. I let her know about all I’d been through up to that point in my life where women were concerned, and I thought she was in New York like her Internet profile said, but she had moved back to Florida.
We instant messaged, and spoke infrequently. Kat had a light baby doll voice with a touch of husky. Everything that she said would add the words “Baby”. Kat said she was not working but thinking about coming back to New York for a job opportunity but didn’t have money to travel. Warning signs I ignored. Her profile picture on whatever site I saw her on was slightly blurred too. She said she wanted to meet me and around this time I had some money saved, and got a great roundtrip fare for a long weekend for just over one hundred dollars.
I met her at JFK airport and was stunned to see a beautiful Latin woman with dark expressive eyes, short and with bountiful breasts. We came back to my place and talked and talked. She told me about an ex-boyfriend of hers who was in jail for ten years who forced her to wait naked all day in his tiny apartment until he got home from work. “Yeesh, another crazy one, and what did I get myself into this time?”
We didn’t sleep together the first night (bad sign no. 1), but, by the second night things were better. I was wondering when she was going to go onto that job interview when she told me she wanted to stay longer, so I had to change her ticket back to Florida. A few days later, I was thinking to myself, I’m torn between throwing this chick out of my apartment, or curious to see where this is going.
Three days after we meet she told me she was going to see ‘so and so’, one of her sisters, and that she might stay the night there. I was like ‘”Ok”. That evening, Kat’s mother called my cell to speak with her, I said she was at ‘so and so’s’. Silence. Kat’s mom told me she didn’t know who that was, and that she was sorry Kat did that to me. I got the feeling I’d been had big time.
Two days later she came knocking on my door, a day after her flight back was scheduled and I freaking yelled and ranted and banged on the wall…I don’t hit women, but I was furious. She told me she was with the jailbird guy who treated her like shit, and it took going back to him and spending the night to realize she didn’t want to be with him anymore. I threw her the fuck out. She packed her bags crying. I told her not to contact me, and I didn’t give a fuck what happened to her. A week later she emailed me and said she was staying at her real sister’s place in Queens, and wanted to apologize to me.
I got some wild story from Kat that she was roaming the streets with an overnight bag and slept on a fire escape. Two days later she called her real sister who lived in Queens and went there.
A little background on this person…Back in the seventies and eighties she was into punk rock while all the other Latin ladies were into other forms of music. She also ran with the original Graffiti tagging crowd back in the day and (younger) images of her hanging out appear in some books. Somewhere along the way, she was a fetish model too, feet mainly, but never had a stable relationship that lasted that long (to my knowledge) and somehow became the Sub to some Dom just out of jail. Funny thing is she showed me this idiot’s Facebook page and his YouTube videos, and he while he looked harsh, there was something definitely femme about his constant posing sans shirts and baring of abs. Once, way after we were done and over, I was walking around the west side of Manhattan’s 14th street, the grungier section I would call it, and I saw this dude in the flesh, except that he was no hardened criminal type, he was a short fucker, and in a long-ish overcoat on a cold night I couldn’t believe he could get anyone to be a sub mistress. Some people will fall for anything if you can talk the talk.
Kat and I would flit in and out of each other’s lives over the next year and a half. She refused to work but had a bad cigarette habit. She would hang out with people who said would buy her cigs but I didn’t allow it after a while. She tried the fetish scene again, but I guess there wasn’t much demand for a fifty something woman…that is if she ever told me the truth.
Another thing was she had somehow become the legal guardian for this crazy psycho daughter of her own sister. This k** would call at all odd times, and was arrested often and put into juvenile detention, and eventually, prison. Out of curiosity I checked, and she was arrested as recently as a few months ago. In no way did I want this girl in my life as she had assaulted cops, doctors, and other people in Florida where she lived.
The few times we went out together Kat always wore dark sunglasses, and she would wear the shortest of skirts, her very round, sculpted ass was something to behold. I would catch guys watching her walk and I smiled, a half-smile really. You might well ask why I even put up with Kat at all.
It was the sex of course. Sometimes I miss the nights cuddled in bed and we would kiss and she would feed me her breasts, with very large nipples. She would moan when I would do that. She was a moaner for sure. Every morning before work she could see that I was excited and did not want me to go to work with a hard-on, so she would often bend over on the floor (after all she was a short woman and I’m well over six feet tall) and we would go at it until I couldn’t anymore, or would be late for work.
She used to wear one of my thick black bathrobes with nothing on underneath when I would come home from work. It got to the point where I had to tell her to wear something like lingerie underneath, ‘cause it made me want to fuck all the time.
How did this all come to an end? I got her a cell phone to keep in touch with family, friends and her insane daughter. If you read the story about wife no. 3 and how I busted her for cheating through the cell phone calls…yup, same thing here.
Kat never called me. I used to say “How come you never call or text me?” She said it was the man’s place to do that. Great sex or no, one day I start going through the cell phone records and saw hundreds of calls all day long, hundreds of texts. She said she was bored and it was just random people. End of the story. I made her pack and send all her stuff back to Florida and told her to leave.
5 years ago
