"Imagine That" is a collection of imagines/short stories featuring your favorite men to fantasize about from the 90's, including: athletes, actors, rappers, singers, tv show/movie characters, etc 🫶🏾
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Nasir Jones as Dominique 'Dom ' Smith The reader as Sandra 'Cashmere/Cash' Dixon
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2003
I sat at the bar, watching in anger as you spun around on the pole that was placed at the center stage; blue lights shining upon you.
Men hounded you, hootin' and hollerin' at you while throwing bills and reaching up onto the stage, grasping for nothingness in an attempt to cop a feel as you slowly worked your body down to a squatting position, rocking your hips back and forth seductively.
Tell Me Do U Wanna by Ginuwine currently mused throughout the club, and with the sexy faces you were making, you made sure to feed the imagination of every nigga in the building, giving them a false ounce of hope that they would be able to exemplify the lyrics.
Tell me do you wanna go home with me Tell me do you wanna come creep with me Tell me do you wanna get wild with me Tell me do you wanna go home...
I was definitely one of them.
But hell, how couldn't I feel that way?
I was damn near in love with you, and you knew it. I'd been pursuing you for two years, and I was so close to getting you but somehow, Ricardo's ass was able to slide in. For the life of me, I'll never understand how you even settled for that fucking bum, but that didn't matter to me now.
You're so beautiful to me, inside and out. You were down to earth, charismatic and funny, charming, smart-- everything under the sun.
At 23, you worked two jobs to support yourself and put yourself through school. Independent and dedicated to say the very least, but a nigga like me wouldn't mind takin' a few things off ya' plate and makin' the load a bit lighter.
But I wouldn't press the issue too heavy.
I was your best paying customer, and maybe the way you acted with me ensured that I would remain just that... but I honestly believed there were some underlying mutual feelings there.
Judging by your body language with other niggas, compared to me, you seemed more comfortable in my presence. You even let me touch on you, and I knew none of these hound ass niggas were gettin' that same experience.
Hell, I knew you on a first name basis, Sandra.
Considering your profession, information like that is highly confidential and only shared in more intimate settings outside of a strip club.
