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Ties That Bind: Chapter 1

“I know you want to know what I have to say, but first, you have to promise me you won’t get mad.”

“Woman.  After 13 years of knowing me, have I ever gotten mad at you?”

“No, but I’ve never told you anything like what I’m about to”, she replied.

“Ok.  Mavis Sabine Wilson, I will not get mad, or angry…happy now?”

“Yes.  Ok.  What I have wanted to tell you for a while, but especially after I met Colby Junior is this…I feel like I’m the reason Colby Junior isn’t our son.”  

To say Colby was past dumbfounded would be an understatement.  After all, he knew that Mavis wanted children…but his?  While he sat quietly still processing what he’d just heard, she continued.

“I know I just dropped a bomb on you.”

With excellent timing, the waitress arrived to take their orders. Mavis wasn’t too hungry so she ordered salmon dip, a bowl of french onion soup, and a glass of rosatto. Colby ordered a steak, medium-well, with asparagus, garlic bread, and a Sam Adams Winter Lager. The waitress took the menus and left.

Colby finally found his voice, “Uh, yeah.  Ya think?  Wow.  I mean, what am I supposed say to that?  Gracious girl, I’m generally not a man of few words, but right now?  I just…are you for real?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am”, she responded.

“How long have you felt like this?  What brought these feelings and thoughts on?”

“Honestly C, I’ve felt like this for a long time, probably since before the night you came over to see my condo.  As to what brought on these feelings, well, it’s a long story.”

“Mavis.  We’re at dinner for what feels like the first time in forever.  I don’t know about you, but I planned on doing nothing but enjoying you, I mean your company, tonight.  I have as much time as you’ll allow me this evening to hear what you have to say, so please share.”

She began…”about two years ago, right after my 30th birthday, I took myself on a much needed vacation. I went to Naples, Versailles and Lisbon.”

“Awww shit, let me find out you’re becoming ‘Ms. International Women of Mystery'”, Colby playfully interjected.

Mavis laughed, and it seemed to relax her. “You always could make me laugh at the corniest jokes. Anyway as I was saying, I went to Europe for two and a half weeks. I needed to recharge myself from all the working, studying, and never ending damage control from the previous 7 years. Even before my graduation from A&T, (cutting her eyes at C) which you missed, I was working way too much and too hard.”

“Hey, my fiancee was in labor. It’s not like I just arbitrarily didn’t show up. You know, if it wasn’t for that, I’d have been in the front row, with the biggest sign and loudest bullhorn. Well, if your uncle didn’t beat me to it first, that is.”

“Are you gonna let me finish?”

“Are you gonna keep making slick comments?”

“See, this is…” but before she could finish, Colby stopped her. “Look Bean”, resorting to what he called her when he got serious. “Dinner was your idea. I am here. You are here. You have things to share with me, that for some reason, I feel like I just need to know. I’ll try to keep my mouth shut, but don’t clam up on me. Deal?”

She signed and exhaled loudly, “Fine…deal.”

“Ok, so you were saying you’d been working too hard even before your graduation?”

“Yup. The internships during the seasonal breaks, my part-time job during the semesters, and then starting my current job even before I walked across the stage; all of it caught up to me. So one day I decided I needed to get away from everything for a while, and I picked Europe as my get away spot.”

“I would’ve thought for sure you’d have been the main character in Stella Part 2,” Colby cornily joked again. Mavis looked at him with mock disdain and continued.

“On my trip, the first week and a half went by fast. All I did was rest, read books, and think about where God had brought me in my life…and I was at peace. During the last week though, my peace was disturbed as I noticed something else about my life”, she paused.

“What did you notice?”

“For the first time, I really realized that outside of my parents, I had nobody to share my world with.”

Colby carefully, and quickly, processed his next words, as he didn’t want to come off as a douchebag. “In our intermittent convos, you would mention, um, geez what was his name? Um, Denard was it?”

“Yeah, that’s his name.”

“What happened with him? When we talked about y’all, you spoke as if everything was cool.”

“At that time, it was. We’d been seeing each other, exclusively, for a few months. About two months after you and I spoke, things got…weird, and went down hill real fast.”

“Can I ask what?”, Colby inquired.

“Well, I started getting an uneasy feeling…”

“Women’s intuition I take it?”

“No, smart ass…yes…hell, I don’t know. What I do know is that Denard just started acting odd. Like, you know how you men get when y’all are trying to keep up appearances, but are chasing after another woman?”

“Can’t say I do, actually.”

Mavis looked at Colby intensely, “you’re kidding, right? I know you’ve at least thought about having a sidechick.”

“Thought about, and having are two very different things miss lady. I’m a man, not that that’s an excuse, but yes I have considered it. In the long run though, I just knew it wasn’t worth it. I wouldn’t want my son doing that to a woman, and I definitely don’t want my daughter seeing her daddy treat a woman like that.”

She looked at C again, thinking to herself…”damn, he really has matured”, but all that escaped her mouth was ummm hmmm.

The ebb and flow of the conversation was effortless, as always, even when they disagreed. The food arrived, and they made small talk as they ate, even sharing a few laughs. As the last bites were taken, the main conversation picked back up.

Mavis started again, “so where’d I leave off?”

“Denard had started acting weird.”

“That’s right. So yeah, he just started tripping. Snapping at me for no reason, then apologizing five minutes later. Then, he went out and bought not one, but two new cars.”

“Ol’ boy was caked up wasn’t he?”

“That’s not the point Colby. I wasn’t with him for his money.”

“But it helped”, he retorted.

“Yes…it did. Buuutttt (she stated, drawing out the word for emphasis), that was not the reason we were together. The money thing is really beside the point. Why do you always have to find ways to detour serious subjects? It’s like you’re insecure about something.”

“What, the hell are you talking about Bean? I just asked if the money helped, and now all of a sudden, I’m insecure? That’s bullshit and you know it. Eff this…here’s the money for dinner, I’m out!”

“Colby! Wait. I’m sorry. I guess I was out of line.”

“Damn straight you were. It’s evident I touched a nerve, so I won’t ask about that anymore.” Colby sat back down, but warily.

They both looked at their plates before speaking. “He developed schizophrenia”, Mavis blurted out. “It seemed like it came on so fast I had no idea what do. I couldn’t prepare for it. It seemed like one day we were fine, and the next, he was talking about frogs telling him I was a demon. Not too soon after that, we were done, and I was putting my emotions back together.”

Mavis had tears streaming down her face. Colby took his napkin and gently wiped her face. Again, they sat in silence. After a few minutes, he took her hand, stood up, made sure the money on the table was enough to cover the bill and tip, and escorted Mavis from the restaurant. Colby walked her back to her car, hugged her tightly, and told her “they could finish the discussion later.”

She thanked him for his tenderness, entered her car and drove off. As she did, Colby watched until her taillights disappeared before returning to his own car. He leaned on the hood, lit a clove, and inhaled deeply, thinking about the just completed dinner. It definitely didn’t end the way he thought it would, but oddly enough, he’d never felt closer to “his Bean”.

Colby couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was most assuredly going to be something different happening between the two of them.

 
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Posted by on 05/13/2014 in Ties That Bind

 

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Ties That Bind: Prologue

Colby was nervous.  Last week Mavis called him and asked could they meet for lunch because she had some things she wanted to share with him.  This was odd; especially since she never wanted to meet. His gut told him life was preparing to flip upside.  Only after agreeing did he realize his acquiescence sounded much too excited.  She gave him the place, time and date, they said our goodbyes, and hung up.

That was 174 hours ago.  And now here he was, sitting in Fogo De Chao, waiting to have dinner with Mavis again for the first time in 10 years. In those 10 years, his life had been many things; stable being a key exception.

He had time to think as he waited. It seemed like each decision he made after their last dinner was a good one initially, then the fallout would hit…

First he met the woman who later became his wife, and they had a son a few months after getting married. Within two years however, they were divorced. Then six years after that, Colby met another woman who seemed to finally fit what he thought he wanted.  The relationship prospered, but he was hesitant about getting married again. She seemed to understand, or so he thought, and things kept progressing.

Soon after, they found out she was pregnant. She began pressing the marriage issue, and he started chafing at the thought. Colby knew it was the socially “right” thing to do, but marrying her wasn’t “right” for him…and he told her, which was hard. Once she delivered their daughter, the last vestiges of the relationship died quickly. After both instances, Colby found himself wondering, “where did I go wrong?” Suffice it to say, in relationships? Everywhere.

During the years between their dinners, Mavis and Colby would talk on an inconsistent basis.  They were still friends, so the connection was there, but it had…changed.  Whereas before they’d have in-depth, soul baring conversations; the talks now were superficial, like small talk-on-an-elevator superficial.  There were things about her life he wanted to ask about, but it was like an unspoken topic that couldn’t be uttered.  So they continued the same dance; “How you been? How’s the family? Are you still working at XYZ?” Talking, but not really communicating.

After a few years of not seeing each other, he called her and ask could they get together. She had just purchased a condo near Howard and had a housewarming which seemed the opportune time.  However, Colby couldn’t make it, which frustrated him greatly, but the next week he was there, getting the “realtor tour”.  She’d done well for her self, and though he was happy for her, seeing Mavis in her home gnawed at him…why he couldn’t quite decipher.  After the tour, they talked a while, and had a few glasses of wine. They talked about the past, his kids, her desire to be married and have kids, and their careers.  It was just an easygoing night, and one he needed.

Eventually, the witching hour came, and he knew it was time to leave.  They shared a lingering hug, and Colby left.  The walk back to his car was a replay of the previous few hours. Rapping with Mavis was always effortless; like it was what talking to a woman was supposed to be.  As he walked and thought, one thing she said kept repeating in his mind…”nobody ever ‘got’ me like you did”. 

Though unintentionally, a few months went by before they talked again.  She called one day while he was at a restaurant with his son.  During the conversation, Colby asked him if he wanted to “meet one of daddy’s friends”, to which he excitedly said yes. They left the restaurant and headed to Mavis’ place.  Once they arrived, Junior knocked on the door and answered “me and my daddy” when she asked “who is it”.  As she opened the door, Junior stood there dumbfounded.

Now his mother wasn’t unattractive, at all, but she couldn’t hold a candle to Mavis.  Even at seven years old, Junior knew loveliness when he saw it…and she was the embodiment of it.  Mavis reached out her hand, and after some prodding from his father, the boy returned the gesture.

“Nice to meet you sir. What’s your name?”

“My name is Junior, like my daddy.” Colby gently reminded him that he was a junior, but that Junior wasn’t his name.  

“Oh yeah, my name is Colby.”  

“Well, nice to meet you Colby.  You’re just as handsome as your father.”  Both of them blushed.

After the meet and greets, Mavis got Junior something to drink and escorted him to the living room, where he found something to watch.  She returned to the foyer and began fawning over him to his father.  Mavis and Colby shared a few laughs, talked, and finally joined the boy in the living room.  Colby took to Mavis as if he’d known her all his life, and she relished the attention.  They talked, played, and just enjoyed each other’s company.  

For a moment, things got awkward when he asked how they knew each from.  “We grew up together” was all either of the adults said.  That seemed to pacify his curiosity, and eventually, he went back to watching TV.  Mavis looked at the older Colby, he looked at her, they both looked at the boy, then back at each other and smiled.  Big Colby wasn’t sure, but he thought he caught a glimpse of moisture around her eyes.  Before he could ask, she went into the kitchen for a moment and then returned.  Her eyes were dry when she sat back down.

Thirty minutes later it was time for the Colbys to leave.  Junior asked her when was the next time he’d see her, to which she put the father on the spot, saying “well, Dad?”  “We’ll see, but for now, come on boy so you can get home.”  They exchanged hugs and the guys left.  On the way to dropping him off, Junior said “Daddy, I like her, and I think she likes you”.  “Well son, I’m glad you like her…I’m not real sure about the second part of that though”.  “Dad…trust me, I know these things”.  Colby Senior laughed the rest of ride.

After he dropped Junior off, Big Colby started thinking again about Mavis, and old thoughts and feelings started welling up inside of him. Here was this woman, whom he’d seen grow from an awkward pre-teen to this stunningly smart, gorgeous, charismatic, independent, and confident woman, and just like old times, he was in awe. NO-BODY, had ever flustered him as much as she did…and she knew it, and probably even enjoyed it.

Colby snapped back to the present, anticipating both Mavis’ arrival, as well as what she wanted to talk about.  A few moments later, Mavis arrived.  He stood to help her with her jacket and pulled her seat out.  Once seated, they rehashed the events of their respective days, and ordered drinks and an appetizer.  Colby wanted to get to what she had to say, but he didn’t want to seem too eager.  Moments went by, but then Mavis changed the subject.

“I know you want to know what I have to say, but first, you have to promise me you won’t get mad.”

“Woman.  After 13 years of knowing me, have I ever gotten mad at you?”

“No, but I’ve never told you anything like what I’m about to”, she replied.

“Ok.  Mavis Sabine Wilson, I will not get mad, or angry…happy now?”

“Yes.  Ok.  What I have wanted to tell you for a while, but especially after I met Colby Junior is this…I feel like I’m the reason Colby Junior isn’t our son.”  

 
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Posted by on 02/25/2014 in Uncategorized

 

15 Alternative Reasons A Husband Could Be Acting In An Odd Way

A couple of weeks ago, I was reading an article that was at the end of another one of my internet rabbit holes.  You know how you can click a link on one page, then another and another, and before you know it, you’ve spent an hour reading things and watching videos?  Yup…that’s how I found the article.  What caught my attention was how the author presented their arguments as fact, and without seeming to have any insight into how the mind of a married man works.  After reading the article, I decide to present a rebuttal, from the mind of at least one married man.

1. Ignoring Problems

There are reasons why a husband may not seem intent on dealing with problems.  Just because he ignores them doesn’t mean he wants a divorce.  Perhaps he’s already processing them and is working on a solution.  How is his woman speaking to him in regards to the problem?  Does she come off as attacking and slick-mouthed, or genuinely concerned?  Just because a woman doesn’t hear anything about a specific problem doesn’t mean the man isn’t working on a solution.

2. He Is Always Busy

What is the home life like?  Is it stressful because of the disconnect between the two people, or is it because of forces outside his control?  Men are instilled with the responsibilities of “provide and protect” from an early age.  If one or the other can’t be done (usually providing) it can gnaw at the very core of a man.  He’ll spend as much time as necessary to get that provider label back.  The way he looks at something may be skewed, but he’s not always trying to leave.

3. Changing His Physical Appearance

Let’s say a man is getting older, has gotten flubbery, and doesn’t like what he sees in the mirror.  Yes, it does happen to men too.  But he starts getting in shape so he can feel better about himself, and better his health.  And, and *GASP* he wants to look good for HIS woman.  That means he wants to get a divorce?  Or could it be his woman’s insecurity about her physical appearance is informing her thoughts about why he’s “all of a sudden” getting his Mr. Olympia on? Hmmm…

4. He’s Lost Those Loving Feelings

Folks assume that men are wired one way, and only respond negatively to affairs of the heart.  Well let me let everyone in on a little secret…men try are proactive, but we can be reactionary too.  To assume that a man just up and started losing ”those loving feelings” is generally foolish.  In a perfect world, maybe, but in the real world, there are things that his woman no doubt did, or is doing, that have fed into her feeling like his feelings are gone.  Perhaps checking for the plank in her own eye before looking at the speck in her man’s would be wise.

5. No Action In The Bedroom

For this one, you’ve got to get a wee bit closer.  Ready?  Ok, here it is…men can get tired of sex.  It’s earth shattering news, I know.  But wait, there’s more.  Weight, stress, age, stress, pressure, stress, and stress can drastically interfere with a man’s libido, as well as desire for sexual contact.  Society would have people (women) thinking that men are always ready, willing, and able, and if he’s not then it’s a problem.  Guess what, there most likely is a problem, but not one that means a man is done with his relationship.

6. He Doesn’t Want to Spend Time Together

This is one of only two I can’t offer an alternative reason for.  The majority of issues that couples face result from the lack of effective communication, and time together, where they can just focus on them.  If a man isn’t willing to put energy into either…then there’s definitely problem.

7. New Circle of Friends

If we’re talking about Drake, then “No New Friends” is fine, but we’re not.  Maybe a man needs a new set of friends.  Perhaps the friends he was hanging out with at first were not good influences and he recognized that, so he has cultivated friendships with people who can enhance him as a person, as well as his relationship.

8. He’s a Workaholic

Let’s assume a man is a workaholic.  Is it possible he was one before meeting his significant other?  Sure.  In some twisted way, was it comforting to her because she knew she had a man who was willing to work as much as need?  Probably.  So now that “it’s” official, his strong work ethic is a problem?  Nope…can’t let it fly.

9. Nasty Comments

“Sticks and stones break your bones, but blah blah…”  The biggest load of crap we’re taught as kids.  If a man is making nasty comments toward a woman, my general question is, “what did she say to him?”  Men can only take but so much slick talk before we’ll respond in kind.  Maybe, just maybe a woman should check how she sounds and what she says before getting them panties in a bunch about her man saying something foul.

10. Bad Habits Emerge

Ok, this is the only other one there’s no alternative for.  If destructive habits are emerging, the source of ol’ boys’ stress needs to be found…and quickly.

11. He Doesn’t Contribute

If he’s super old-school, a man will probably take out the trash, do the yard work, and give his woman the checkbook and that’s about it.  Maybe once in a while he’ll cook just because, and will pull up the slack if his woman is feeling sick.  However, most men probably feel like if they’re making most of the money (providing) and ensuring the home front is secure (protecting) then their job is done.  If a woman desires help from her man around the home, don’t assume he’ll pick up on it…ask.

12. He’s Never Home

One question: is home someplace that can be refuge for a man, or is it a confined war zone that the world he faces everyday can’t fathom?  If he’s not comfortable being home, he won’t be, period.

13. Hidden Phone

Nowadays, many people’s (men and women) phones are the lifeline of their job.  If a man is on his phone a lot, and he works in a communication intensive field or he’s always on call, then the phone is necessity.  If he’s never given his woman reason to suspect anything, and she know’s the kind of job he has, she needs to breathe easy.

14. He Won’t Compromise

Has he never compromised, or is it recent that he has stopped?  Perhaps he’s had enough of his compromising becoming synonymous with him giving in.  If he’s always “compromising” to make his woman happy, but…wait for it…he’s not seeing where she compromises, he’ll stop.

15. No Smiles

Maybe he’s had a long day at work, got some bad news, or God forbid, ate some of his woman’s cooking knowing she can’t cook.  Whatever the case, just because the man doesn’t smile doesn’t mean he’s looking to check out.  There’s probably and underlying reason for it, and finding *that* out will be better for the relationship in the long run.

Did you read the original article?  Do you agree or disagree with the original points or the alternatives, or both?

 
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Posted by on 02/24/2014 in Uncategorized

 

Man Card Revocations and Letting Daughters Down

Darrk Gable:

It was late one Sunday night that I realized two things. First, my man card had to be turned in. Secondly, my daughters had a sucka for a father. Ok, not really on either account, but fora few hours, this could’ve been the case.

See y’all gotta understand, like, I HATE bugs. Not worms, or even most spiders, or even the slow walking ones. The kind I hate are the ones that creep along, but sense you moving around, and dart off like Carl Lewis in his prime. They move too fast for the average person to get them the first time, and then you gotta look for them, but hope you see them before they see you. It’s stressful.

So anyway, like I was saying; Sunday night I got home and the commenced to watching Law & Order like an OG ‘spose to. Out the corner of my eye, I think I see something gray moving slow. It’s dark so I assume it’s lint being blown around by the A/C. A couple of minutes later, the “lint” is creeping in front of the TV. Bruh…I IMMEGIATELY hop up to cut the light on, but never take my eye off the “living lint”.

As SOON as the light illuminated what was going to be a dark time in my night and life, the thing gets ghost! I usually sleep on the couch, and where does the bug go? Under the m*********n’ couch! Now I’m telling the bug and myself, “nope, nah, not tonight champ…I got work in the morning. We are NOT doing this. You gotta go bug, tonight!”

The first thing I did was grab the broom. I figure, “if I can squash it, I’m good and then I can go to sleep.” The only problem was, I had no attack plan.

Originally posted on The Better Man Project:

Focus on the door that’s shut, or look for those that have opened.

Opportunities present themselves in the face of adversity all the time. In fact, when we fall, it’s much easier to see what we are really made of than when we are flying in blue skies. Life often works like a series of “the next 200ft.” Things can be so foggy at times that you never really know what you are dealing with ahead of what you can see. That’s where faith comes in. Faith is the courage to keep going when you honestly and absolutely have no idea what really is going to happen to you after you complete the 200ft in front of you. Going headstrong into that takes some guts.

144bd9a94b7d8c6f467481b0c75072ef

I encourage you to endure. To keep chipping away. Did you know that a lot of the railroad through Sierras…you know those tunnels that the…

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Posted by on 01/18/2014 in Uncategorized

 

Love Letter To The Black Woman

Where do I begin? What can I possibly say to let you know how I feel?

Do I start off by telling you how fine I think you are? Nope.  That only speaks to your outward self…though, for the record, you are so, so fine.

Do I begin by saying how you’re everything any man would want in a woman?  Nah.  That’s not really telling you anything because it’s so damn basic and general.  But that it factor a woman *has* to have?  You embody it.

Those starting points are ok, but “from the heart” is the best place to begin, so here goes…

Things haven’t been easy for you.  For some time now, you’ve had to be so many things to so many people; no doubt your tired.  It’s time I took the burden off of your shoulders and allowed you to lean on me.

For once, let me be the strength that you need.  Let me protect you from the cares of this world.  Let me provide a place of refuge that you can escape to when “it” all becomes too much.  Let me do these things because, simply, I love you.  And because I do, I will.

I’ve cherished you since before I even knew I was supposed to.  The greatness that is in me was birthed by you. You’ve been a teacher to me; you’ve shown me what a fulfilled person looks like.  All at a cost of “you”, and you never complained.  You’ve poured out strength from a reserve that only The Creator could’ve given you; it seems endless.

You always find a way to make magic happen, turning nothing into something.  Society hasn’t been kind to you, calling you names and looking to make you fit a stereotype that’s the antithesis of what you are…the prototype.  And that’s said with utmost reverence.  You are the earth that we all came from; the nurturing element that brought, and continues to bring forth greatness.

When I imagine my life without you, I see nothing. There’s no me without you. I cease to exist if I don’t nurture what’s inside you. It may be selfish, but I need you to survive.  And because I know this, I’ll do what’s necessary to ensure you feel alive.

The future of us is contained within you, your heart, and your womb. The younger (just as precious) versions of you shall be cherished and adored.  I will show the younger (protective of you) versions of me how to cherish and adore them.

Taking care of you has been a responsibility that I’ve neglected for far too long.  When I see the glimpses of your radiating light, my desire is for you to illuminate more of my world.  And not just mine, but the entire world. It’s only the right, and natural order of things.

I can never seem to find the right words to truly express how I feel about you…but, this time?  I say simply, “black woman, you are everything that is right in this world. I adore you, I believe in you, and I embrace the wonderfulness that is you.”

Lovingly Yours,

A Black Man

 
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Posted by on 01/06/2014 in Life, Love & Admiration

 

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love letter to black women

Darrk Gable:

Can’t wait to read the “letters” that this will spawn.

Originally posted on [now a word or two]:

once again, a gchat convo with the great cheekola, inspired an idea.

we were talking about the year/decade/lifetime, that black women have had. that despite our for the most part unwavering support of those in the black community (specifically the fellas), we stay on the receiving end of much abuse.

it’s hurts because the people that’s supposed to have our back the most (one of think) continuously issue the most slander against us.

from calling us ugly for not meeting the ever increasingly harder to meet standard of beauty, to calling us stupid and deceitful for trying to match it.

from calling us heaux for giving in to a nude request, to calling us prudes when we reject it.

from telling us to get in the kitchen for wanting to learn a sport to discounting our sports knowledge as ‘just trying to impressing the men’.

from violating us in a…

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Posted by on 12/16/2013 in Uncategorized

 

The Dance

*the scene…*

There’s a chocolate velour couch where I’m sitting.  Lights are dimmed, the aroma of cinnamon permeates the atmosphere, and Usher’s Seduction is playing in the background.  To my right is a new style recliner.  As the music plays,  I get up and take a seat in the recliner.  Like clockwork, you enter the room as the breakdown of the song begins.

You’re dressed in a lace teal and black corset with a teal v-string.  On your legs are black thigh highs covered in teal fishnets and on your feet are 4.5 inch open toed heels.  Everything you’re wearing accentuates your curves flawlessly.

As you enter the room, I begin to stand, but you extend your hand as if to say “stop”…then you wave it at me as if to say sit back down.  You slowly make your way toward me, as you do, we make eye contact, and hold that gaze for what seems like forever.  I start to lean up, ever so slightly to glance at you, taking in the wondrous sight that I’ve been afforded the opportunity to look upon.

Seduction ends and Joe’s More and More begins.  As the initial beat drops, so do you. Each time the bass note thumps, your hips follow along.  I’m utterly mesmerized by the way your body undulates, and I simply can’t look away.

As the song ends, you back into the room, our eyes never losing focus.  I stand to follow you because the sight of you dancing has overwhelmed my senses.  But again, you put your hands up to tell me “stop”.  Instead of motioning for me to sit back down, you say “lay on the floor and take your shirt and glasses off; I’ll be right back”.  Not one to have to be told twice, I do as requested and earnestly await your return.

The anticipation gnaws at me.  Two songs play before you return to the room, sans the v-string.  For a second that seems like forever, I sit up and stare in utter amazement.  The smoothness of the flower betwixt your thighs is as the surface of a quiet lake.  A sly smile creeps across your succulent lips as you watch me watching you.  You ask, “you like?”  All I can do is nod my approval.

Still clad in the thigh highs, corset, and heels, you walk toward me, and Lou Rawl’s Early Morning Love begins to play.  When you get to my feet, you ask me to close my eyes.  After 3 seconds of internal debate, they’re shut.  I feel you step over me and walk up my body until your standing over waist.  Unbeknownst to me, you had managed to grab the stereo remote.  After finding a song that fits your plan, you toss the remote on the recliner and tell me, “no matter what, you can’t open your eyes”.  I deeply exhale, signaling my agreement.

You then lower yourself onto me and pick up right where you left off before you originally exited the room.  I can’t open my eyes, but my hands are doing all the seeing my eyes cannot.  They methodically travel along every nook, fold, and curve you have; memorizing every millimeter of your being.  It’s -literally- getting harder than I ever thought to maintain control of myself, but I’m a cool customer. 

You check to make sure my eyes are still closed (they are), and then you stretch out prostrate on top of me.  I envelope you in my arms, rubbing my hands up and down your back and lightly palming that blessed butt of yours.  Your head is on my chest, nuzzled under my chin.  Softly you whisper, “I could stay like this…but the show isn’t over.”  “Oh really?” I ask.  You nod your head in the affirmative, wiggle out of my grasp, and raise your body up, but not fully.

You slow wind your body up mine.  Your breasts caress my face, and I kiss them as they keep traveling north, until lace from the corset rubs against my face.  The next skin I feel is your stomach.  I kiss it as well, and you stop moving.  My chest feels an uptick in moistness as you say “keep kissing right there.”  And I do, for several minutes.

You ask me to stop…but why would I?  Through the kisses, you creep up a little bit more…and the rose is directly over my mouth.  In a clear, but low voice, “place that bud on my lips!” I demand, but you don’t, at least not initially.  “I’ll place it where I want…when I want” is your reply.  While this test of wills is taking place, you’ve managed to place your thighs on my shoulders.

With ease, I maneuver you so your thighs are now on the sides of my head, and the bud is where I want it.  You lean back, providing me even greater access to your treasure.  You begin rubbing my bald head and simply ask, “what are you waiting for?”

And with that, I begin to feast like a famished man who’s not had sustenance for time on end…

 
3 Comments

Posted by on 12/04/2013 in Fantasy

 

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