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Men….. You have got to do better. 

 

pee

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ladies, have you ever used the bathroom after you gentleman friend only to find your feet resting in a disgusting puddle? 

Let me say I hope this has not happened to you. But since it has happened to me via more than one gentleman friend, methinks it may be common. 

Sometimes it happens after sex. I can *almost* understand this. He gets up, his willy wang may not be acting right, he stumbles to the toilet and his attempts at perfect aim seem futile. Well, I understand. But why, why dear sweet baby Jesus in your small little baby crib, why can you men NOT CLEAN IT UP!? Is it that you are suffering from post-sex delirium and you fail to notice that you pulled an R.Kelly on my freshly swiffered floor? Or do you not care and you shake it extra hard just to be spiteful? 

Sometimes it happens after copious (shout out to my fellow SAT word lovers…one person in particular) amounts of alcohol are consumed. Ok we got stumbling, inability to focus, and lack of appropriate depth perception. So then why, in the name of all things holy and porcelain, can you not just suck up your male ego and pride , just tuck your willy and sit down to pee? Don’t tell me it’s because you are concerned with germs. Fool it’s your toilet so you should know if it’s clean, or it’s my toilet and you KNOW that it’s clean. Having to keep up with your non-aiming self keeps my bleach constantly on deck. 

Either way, it happens. I, JG*, seem to be the most unfortunate girl who always loses in the foot-race to the bathroom and I am always the one left in the puddle of sterile bodily fluid. I am then left not knowing what to do. It sucks. My foot is wet and icky, yet probably devoid of any bacteria now. I have to maneuver off of the toilet and handle all self-cleaning business on one leg. I have to clean up your foul nastiness because you were too pre-occupied to do it yourself, and I need to clean my feet that I feel now know you on too personal of a level. Once this is done, I hope you have begun to worry what has taken me so long. Also, I hope that you ask. When you ask, you will be met with a fury so deep that you will wish you would have missed and hit yourself in the face instead.

Well really, I say all of that but honestly, I’m too shy to be that real. Well it’s not shy. It’s just that I get embarrassed for other people easily, and when this atrocity occurs, I tend to just clean it up and leave it at that. I don’t want to see the embarrassed look on his face followed by the stumbling and weirdness. I’d rather not see him punk up like that. It would make me sad. Instead, I’ll just accept him as the man-beast that he is and chalk it up to the level of difficulty there must be in taming the beast that is his wang into urination submission. 

 

Until next time….

 

JG*

ec-sta-sy [ek-stuh-see]
-noun, plural-sies

1. rapturous delight.
2. an overpowering emotion or exaltation; a state of sudden, intense feeling.
3. the frenzy of poetic inspiration.
4. mental transport or rapture from the contemplation of divine things.

2. delight, bliss, elation. Ecstasy, rapture, transport, exaltation share a sense of being taken or moved out of one’s self or one’s normal state, and entering a state of intensified or heightened feeling. Ecstasy suggests an intensification of emotion so powerful as to produce a trancelike dissociation from all but the single overpowering feeling: an ecstasy of rage, grief, love. Rapture shares the power of ecstasy but most often refers to an elevated sensation of bliss or delight, either carnal or spiritual: the rapture of first love. Transport, somewhat less extreme than either ecstasy or rapture, implies a strength of feeling that results in expression of some kind: They jumped up and down in a transport of delight. Exaltation refers to a heady sense of personal well-being so powerful that one is lifted above normal emotional levels and above normal people: wild exaltation at having finally broken the record.
ecstasy (kst-s)  Pronunciation Key Audio pronunciation of [P]
n. pl. ecstasies

  1. Intense joy or delight.
  2. A state of emotion so intense that one is carried beyond rational thought and self-control: an ecstasy of rage.
  3. The trance, frenzy, or rapture associated with mystic or prophetic exaltation.
  4. Slang.. MDMA.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

x-tasy... there's more then one form

x-tasy... there's more then one form

i saw him from across the dance floor
leaning up agains the bar
looking so smooth, suave, sexy
ek-stuh-see

i sauntered over to him
and whispered in his ear
‘where’d you get your grill?’
x-t-c

he looked at me or through me
his deep hazel eyes magnetic
i looked deep and saw more then the physical
extasy

he touched me lightly
he smiled and kissed my cheek
we exchanged numbers
ecstasy

we talked
we read
we typed
ec-sta-sy

he came over
we played a game
i won
exctasy

he put his mouth on mine
i breathed his fire
my body craved his
x-ta-see

not enough of him
worse then the drug
i need another hit of my
ex-ta-cee

so i’m sitting here watching music videos and i was watching the S.E.X. video with lyfe and it inspired me to write this blog. before i continue with the blog, i HAVE to address one of these lines… ok, so how many women have heard the line, “if you really love me then you would give it up”? maybe it’s been so long since i’ve heard that shit that it seems ludacris to me! do people really say that shit? wait… something just registered to me.. lol… i’m an adult and we don’t say that shit…

ok, so now back to the regularly scheduled blogging…

i wish someone woulda saved me!

i wish someone woulda saved me!

so listening to this song inspired me to think back to when i lost my virginity… it was the summer before i started highschool. (yes,i was kinda young) i was working as a lifeguard and swim instructor at the center. everyone had started spreading rumors earlier that summer that i’d had sex with this person and that person but i was still a virgin. i didn’t understand why everyone was so infatuated with sex at this point in time cuz i’d yet to have it. i’d done the kissing and that same summer i’d gotten my first hicky. it was huge and blue and it was on my chest, literally. not my breasts, my chest… it was extremely hard to hide from anyone since i was always in a swimsuit. (this is when i found that footcream and toothpaste aid in the healing of hicky’s) this was the last summer that my family took a vacation together. we went to our normal vacation spot in jamaica.

as soon as we landed, the scent flooded my senses and i knew i was entering ectasy manifested. i had packed next to nothing. at this point, i was pretty damn small and wore the cute booty shorts, little shirts, and bikini’s. the first day we got there, we were out on the beach. it seemed like a daily thing for me to switch up who i was kissing. it never went any further then the kissing. that is until i met raymond young from florida. he was soooo cute! we kissed and then he invited me to his room. i went wearing these super short mini basketball shorts and a white t-shirt. he kicked his little brother out the room. we talked and watched some tv. then we started kissing. he started feeling me up and taking my clothes off. when we were both undressed, he went to his wallet and took out a condom and put it on. it was my first time seeing a dick and it looked funny to me… so he gets on top of me and asks me if i’d ever done this before and shook my head no… then he put it in. all i know is that i’m happy that he knew where it went cuz i didn’t! so it didn’t hurt and i knew that was a problem because i’d heard the stories. it was weird, didn’t feel good or bad, and was just so sloppy! he tried to make me ride him but naturally i had no idea what i was doing. so it somehow ended and i left.

that nite we went to club and i was drinking pretty heavily… he took me outside to the beach and we did some more kissing and he whispered in my ear, “you know, i still have 2 more condoms.” my initial response wanted to be, “fuck nah! that shit was wack the first time!” but my good sense kicked in and i said, “no, i’m still sore from earlier.” we parted ways that night and vowed to keep in touch. i threw his information away as soon as i got it from him and gave him fake info. needless to say, this first time scarred me and i didn’t have sex again for about a year…

so if u’s readers/commenters wanna reply with your first times, go ahead! have fun with it!

xoxo

ladebelle

 

This is a loose hoe.

This is a loose hoe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So the topic of the “magic number” has been discussed on other blogs and even here in the comments section ad infinitum.  Each side battles it out and nothing has been resolved. Today I would not like to talk about that number in particular, but my issue with the concept that a man’s perception determines a woman’s purity status.

 As I discussed before there is a sad black cloud that hangs over black women when it comes to our sexuality.  We are controlled by society’s pressures on women period, as well as racial divides. While this is a problem, I see it as something that will be easy to overcome eventually.

What I can’t get over however, is how a man can decide whether or not I, or any other woman, is a hoe.  As discussed in “What’s your number” posts, there was no clear cut number that would send a man running to the hills. On a fellow blogger’s recent blog post there were all sorts of complex mathematical equations floating around to determine the impact of a woman’s “magic number”.  Using these equations you could take the number 20 and 5 different guys would have 5 different conclusions regarding her “status”. For example:

 

Guy #1 : “She’s 25, been active since she was 20, so that’s 20 in 5 years, which would be 4 guys a year. That’s not bad.

Guy #2: “Well, she lost her virginity at 20, so she started off slow, in the last year she had 10. That’s too much, she a hoe”

Guy #3: “20 and she’s 25!?! That nasty hoe! I’ve slept with 113 girls and none of them were that loose! And they were all cute!”

Guy #4: “She’s had 20 guys, who cares? Is she healthy?”

Guy #5: “Ok.. 20 is a lot. But! The bulk of them were in college so that’s ok. Awww but damn, that means when we go back to homecoming Ninja’s gonna be pointing and laughing at me. She’s a hoe!”

 

Why is it that we allow men to dissect our pasts like this? Even if a girl does ask a man’s number it doesn’t seem to probe this far.  Many men complain that a high number is expected of them, and anything else would show a lack of experience. Perhaps this is true. I know that between my friends and I, we do not care to know your number, or the nasty things you did with girls X, Y, and Z. All that matters to me are your sexual preferences, and your performance with me. I don’t want a prude and I want someone open to my likes and dislikes, and can teach and learn.  Now to be fair, some girls are just loose as hell. Over on the other blog, people talked about girls with 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 guys in one night. I aint never heard of no ish like that. If I knew those girls, I’d have an intervention with them. Holy water for days! LOL

Yet and still, I am really turned off by the fact that any girl can be deemed “ho-ish” at any man’s discretion. I don’t feel this affects me personally for plenty of reasons. Although I feel my numbers are relatively low compared to what some of my male friends have consistently declared as “too high” or “high enough” I am that girl that will refuse to answer this question. Someone mentioned before “if she will lie about this, what else is she lying about?” And I guess that’s fair. I, on the other hand, will simply tell you it is none of your business. Likewise I will not ask you, your business.  As long as you’re a healthy and you haven’t had sex with all my girlfriends, or my male best friend, I’m okay.

I think the sooner we start realizing what’s really most important, the sooner the marriage rate will go up.

So I ask dear readers: Am I way off base with this? Men, do you think this is fair? Women, are you tired of being reduced to mere numbers? Where do we go from here?

 

 

J “nickel between the legs” G* 

 

I was here last night folks

I was here last night folks

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yup, I’m in beautiful New York City, and last night I was in FREEZING Times Square. Seriously, I don’t think Times Square on New Years Eve is for black people. It was -1 degrees out there. I took pictures but I don’t have my cord. I’ll upload them later.  

 

 

Seriously though, there were Becky’s out there in skirts, with and without tights. I had on jeans, boots, two pairs of socks, hand warmers, a sweater, scarf, and a jacket. Nothing would work. I wanted to die. 

 

I’m gonna make this brief because we’re about to make the sprint to the subway station to hit it to Manhattan. Those of you who follow me on twitter have been privy to the goin’s on of my travels up the eastern seaboard. Thanks for all of the support. 🙂 LOL Things are going well again. 

I just want to laugh at all the people on Facebook who thought it was a good idea to say “bye to all my HaTeRz!!!” and say things like “I’m done with all the fakers, It’s time for the move-makers!” and other corny type things. I get it. At the end of the year it’s a time to reflect and hope for the future, but to be honest, I think it’s a little lame to have to announce to your “HaTerZ” that you’re leaving them behind. Chances are, you have no haters, and no one will notice. 

 

I don’t even want to reflect on 2008. It was awesome, not the best, but what can ya do about it? I’m ready for 2009 and here are my resolutions:

1) Stay on my current health kick. Make it a lifetime choice. No beef, No Pork, and try to cut back on the dairy. 

2) Use my gym membership. Lose 10 lbs in fat, but gain it back in muscle. I’m a skinny girl with too much to hold around the middle if you know what I mean.

3) Get my tattoo. 

4) When I get into my B-School of choice, funk the hell out of it. 

5) Be happy… I’m single for a reason, I need to enjoy the fact that I have options, and I’m hot. 

6) Continue on my current devotion to Church. I may be a bad girl, but really, I’m a good girl and I love the Lord. And he loves me and my imperfections. 

7) Stop watching so much porn. God don’t like ugly. LOL 

And I have stories for days! How I feel in love with a young boy, when ex’s mix, JG* the co-pilot. Be ready for it. 

That’s it for now, see y’all back in ATL!!! What are you guy’s resolutions for the new year? 

 

J Brand New G*

simple directions lead me
from where i was to where you are
you say it’s not far from where i am
and you guide me, easily, calmly, confidently

nervous energy runs through my veins
why am i nervous?
we spent countless hours on the phone
letting our souls speak and share with one another

i pinpoint the reasons why
and insecurities flood my brain
what if he thinks i’m fat? ugly? too tall?
or what if he treats me like every other guy

i swallow my insecurites
and digest my uncertainty
i’m now where he is
and there’s no turning back

my eyes are tantalized by the eye candy that greets me
warmth & comfort are emitted by his presence
and he immediately wraps me up in himself
sharing his warmth with me

my discomfort increase
because i’m realizing the true beauty of the man that sits in front of me
his presence is magnetic
and seemingly omnipresent

in the privacy of him
i force myself to not get lost in the labyrinth of his eyes
but find myself desiring to stare deeply into them
i sing to myself, ‘if wanting u is wrong i don’t want to be right…’

his mouth is perfect and i want to try it
taste it, tease it
but as much i want to be entangled in his arms,
lost in his caress, drowned in his desire, i just lay next to him, barely touching

we sleep together, innocently
our souls playing and intertwining
and i sit here now wishing that he were more
then just a thought dancing in my mind…

xoxo

ladebelle

*I’m still on vacation so excccuuuuuuuuse me! But look, I woke up early this morning just to give y’all something to talk about. I’m in beautiful North Carolina, on my way to NYC and really I’d rather play in the snow that hasn’t fallen yet. But I had something on my mind and I want to give it to you. Oh and I don’t ALWAYS think about sex. LOL I have another topic coming up soon for you guys. I have a whole repertoire ready and waiting. Just stay tuned in 2009!

 

Y’all know there is just an undeniable difference between sex with a friend and sex with your lover. Obviously, most people would jump to say that sex with your lover is the best. And, usually I would venture to agree. But let’s break it down. Starting with your lover first. 

 

Sex with your lover: 

It’s passionate, he/she knows all the nooks and crannies, and he calls you sexy names like “baby” or “angel” or “madamoiselle”. Ok that might be a little weird but you get the point. He’s running his fingers all gently though your hair. She’s rubbing your back instead of scratching it. You guys mouth kiss (which it’s generally a rule that you do NOT mouth kiss the randoms in the bed lol). You roll around the bed instead of toss around. Even when it’s rough, it’s loving. He stops to ask “baby (angel, madame), are you okay? That didn’t hurt did it?” All followed by a loving kiss on your neck, back, hand. Flowers blossom, birds sing, and rainbows flow from your ass to the ceiling. There really aren’t any embarrassing moments as you guys are close enough to not care. You guys compromise on who sleeps in the wet spot and you even spoon afterwards. Of course this is awesome! 

But wait…

 

Sex with a friend:

You guys are cool, attractive, and it’s all good. He may step to you or you may step to him. But when it goes down, it goes down. You may kiss, but there’s no mouth kissing. Maybe lip biting, but no slips of the tongue straight to the mouth. It aint pretty, but that’s what makes it so good. The passion is animalistic. He may not know all of the nooks and crannies, but he will pull out all the stops to make sure you enjoy yourself. You will too. I mean you want all that Sh*t you talked to be worth it and true. You scratch and he pulls your hair. There are no sexy names that roll of the tongue, just moans and total reckless abandon. You guys bounce all over the bed. You try out all kinds of crazy positions and when those embarrassing moments happen, if y’all are real cool, you can laugh it off and make fun of each other. Sometimes there’s even random funny dialogue during the act that usually would be corny, and it is, but who cares, it’s just your friend. When y’all are done, you are able to just hop up and bounce away for the all important post-sex pee (PSP) and all is well with the world.

Ahhhh these all sound like the good. But what about the bad and the ugly. Got that for ya too. 

Sex with your lover:

Sometimes this can be boring. You guys may have tried it all, and get comfortable. Every night it goes like this: Kiss, Kiss, clothes come off, grabs a boob, lick, head, missionary, and if it’s a good night, either Cowgirl or Doggy next, or if it’s a holiday, all three. In that order. And while sometimes he may smack your booty or she may dig her nails in, it’s almost like it’s part of the script. Like [insert random act of ruffness here]. Y’all mouth kiss so much, it takes away from his ability to appropriately thrust while in missionary, and the lady’s ability to really control the ride. I said earlier that there aren’t any embarrassing moments, but if something gross does happen you do kinda feel bad because you guys expect these moments to be perfect. You guys barely break a sweat and sometimes y’all spoon directly afterwards and all that stickiness can sometimes be annoying. All that being sweet, romantic and cuddly sometimes makes it hard for the lady to sneak away for the absolutely most important act of the PSP. You don’t want to ruin the moment though, so you lie there festering in all the harmful germs. LOL 

But wait….

Sex with your friend: 

It’s wild, it’s crazy, and it can leave you sorer than hell. See he may not stop to ask “are you okay? That doesn’t hurt does it?” And while you’re in it to win it, and hey you may even like a little pain, you are having to grit your teeth through the drilling he’s giving you. Eight or 10 minutes of it felt great, but now, you are pretty sure you are out oil, and you hate Alaska for Palin and that damn “Drill Baby Drill” slogan. You hair is completely sweated out, your ass is smacked cherry apple red, and his back looks like you clawed your way up his body. It was great during the act, now that it’s over you are beginning to suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder from the war that you just participated in and you are need of the infirmary STAT! If and this is a big if, your friend is hanging around for the evening, the guy tends to leave the wet spot for you when you jump up to take care of the PSP and when you get back, he’s passed out and comfy in the warmth of the bed, while all that’s left for you is a corner of the blanket and the dreaded wet spot. *sigh* You gotta give some to get some. 

 

It goes both ways. I think I’d rather have sex with my lover because that would imply that I have a lover and I’m not single. But damn if I don’t love sex with a friend. Of course these are sweeping generalizations but it’s a blog, so sue me. I say what I want to say. LOL 

Also, one could say that the “sex with your lover” that I described could be called “making love” but that just didn’t sound as good in the blog title. 

 

sexy-time

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Happy Holidays everyone, next up I’ll be chatting up about New Years Resolutions, and don’t forget my multi-part post about Black women and Sexuality. I’m coming hard with that one! 

 

JG*

So I have to be honest. My bloggin has been slackin because I was celebrating the birth of our good Lord Jesus Christ. Now I know you have read some sacreligious stuff on this here blog, but I, JG*, was born and raised in the Southern Church (Shout out to my G.R.I.T.S!) And although I fall short of the glory every now and then, I love me some Jesus. This is exactly why on Christmas Eve I got completely and utterly wasted. I don’t have the equipment to load up some of my crazy pics, so for now, here’s a picture of my puppy. 

This is Kizmo!

This is Kizmo!

Random, I know. But I think I’m still residually drunk. Seriously. I drank enough on Christmas Even to currently still be drunk. I’m here in Florida, the weather is very nice, I believe it’s 76 degrees outside right now. I didn’t even bring clothes for this kind of weather. We went to this club out on the beach and I didn’t realize how much I missed the water until that moment. To go to the club, then walk out on the patio and see the ocean……I miss it. 

I think it was the salty air combined with the 4 Vodka Gimlets, the 2 Kamikaze shots, and the Sonic Cherry Limeade half full of Goose that had me going. I went out with some guys that I went to High School with but I only knew one of them. By the end of the night, I had drank each and every one of them under the table, and paid for all of their food at Waffle House. Not to mention, I out-danced every Becky in the club, and I had on my brand new extremely sexy pumps. I was a bad bitch. I’m going to have to upload some pics later. LOL 

I did it all for Jesus. If I can go out and party for some random celebrity’s birthday I can damn sure do it big for Jesus. 

Christmas day was awesome for us. My mother works on the Navy Base and she volunteered to work Christmas morning, so we went out there to eat breakfast with the families of the soldiers. That was great. Too bad I was too hungover to really take it all in. I didn’t open my gifts until like 4:30. Last night, I had some Cognac and smoked cigars with my Daddy. My boss gave me these great Cubans, and it was a good time, except it made my Dad extremely yappy. 

So here I am this morning, I swear I’m still drunk, and I know this blog post makes very little sense. But please believe I will be back in effect next week with some more juicy goodness, and to continue with my multi-post rant on women, sex, the black woman, and how all that ties together.

So Ranters, gimmie your good Christmas stories!

 

Drunk and disorderly,

JG*

P.S. I finally watched “This Christmas” last night, and it was good/wack all at the same time. Highlights of course was Lauren London, and the baby oil scene. And Christ Brown. He’s my guilty pleasure.

***here’s a piece of some fiction writing that i’ve done***

…my frontdoor…

i could tell she was coming home… i could hear her footsteps. she was laughing with a male who’s footsteps i couldn’t recognize… you can tell alot from the way a person walks…his footsteps were heavy, steady, and firm… confident, like he knew where he was walking… she stuck her key in me, but didn’t turn…

he pushed up behind her, sandwiching her between me and him… he began kissing on her neck, she exhaled heavily, moaning softly… she let go of the keys and put both palms on flat on me, letting her purse hit the ground… i could see his hands reach around and wrap around her breasts… he massaged her nipples and she threw her head back landing on his chest… she tried to turn around but he prevented her and pressed harder against her… they were both breathing heavy… she began to grind her hips and he moaned this time…

his hands moved under her shirt, lifting it above her head… he kisses and licks down her back as he unclasps her bra… he heads further and further south as he undoes her pants… he pulls them down, his mouth following her jeans over her ass… he stops there and nibbles and licks as he continues to take her jeans off… he turns her around now, her back and one of his hands is on me… he uses his other hand and tongue to part her lips that linger in front of him… she bumps her head on me in ecstasy…

i can’t see much but i hear her moans and feel her squirming against me… i see his chest heaving hard… he puts her legs over his shoulders and lifts her up… i can tell shes shocked by how she tries to grab me… he undoes his pants while continuing to feast on her buffet and his pants drop…

he brings her down and places her onto him… in and out and in and out and in and out… it seems to go on for awhile… i can here muffled moans and hear the sounds of kissing… she whispers that she’s about to cum. he pulls out and places her back on the ground… he turns her around, spreads her legs, and gives all of him to her… i can see her face now, filled with so much emotion… she looks like she’s about to burst and then there’s the look, u know, the look that you get when u release a lot of pressure… he had the same look…

he collapsed against her and she against me… i can feel the heat steaming from her pores, her heart is racing against me, her eyes closed, her palms open, with his hands over them… she pushes herself up, places her hand on the keys, turns the lock and opens the door. she then asks him, ‘would you like to come inside?’

or just dick…

***merry christmas eve everyone!!!***

dick-and-jane

so people say that there is power in pussy, but there is also power in dick as well… this is evident to any/every heterosexual female out there… let me elaborate on this…

from the time that a woman meets a man, she sizes him up wondering just how big he is and if he’s good in the sack. so you get to know him, find the things that make him tick and the things that simply tick you off about him… so you guys finally get to the point where it comes time for him to lay the pipes down… now 1 of 3 things can happen.

scenario 1: you guys are all hot and heavy and you’re craving to feel him inside of you. you can’t wait any longer and you reach down and grab his love stick and you are surprised. now, i didn’t say pleasantly surprised but more disappointed then anything. you find that his love stick is no bigger then a slim tampon. so you proceed to have pity sex, faking pleasure sighs while all the time your wishing that he would hurry up and finish and get the hell out. after you find out that he doesn’t have the equipment to please you, everything that you did like about him seems insignificant and those things that somewhat bothered you became blaringly annoying… you can’t stand his voice, let alone his touch or his presence… you begin to resent him, and finally cut things off, saying that it’s you, not him when you know what the real reason was…

scenario #2: you guys are passionately kissing… the mouth leads to the neck and then his chest and then his stomach and his pants somehow come off and you see his love stick and think, “hey, this is workable”… after massaging his love stick with your tongue, you give into your cravings to have him… this is when you find out that he is NOT as experienced as you thought. the position is missionary and that’s it. he doesn’t know how to change positions and doesn’t want to… he doesn’t really know the stroking techniques but you submit to rabbit fucking cuz hey, it feels ok… you vow to teach him a thing or two so that things can really take off for you guys… (see how scenario #3 ends)

scenario #3: you are lying on your back out of breath with a huge smile and try to recap what the hell just happened… it all started with an innocent kiss… then he had you pinned against the wall, his body pressed up against yours… you can feel his heart beating hard and fast against you… his kisses move from your mouth to your neck as his hands move from your waist to removing your top… then his mouth is at your breasts and his hands are at your pants… everything moving so fast… he’s on his knees, your knees are over his shoulders, the room is spinning and and then you’re spinning… you’re upside down caressing his love stick with your tongue as he probes you with his… then you think, “oh shit, he just pulled a justin the slayer move!!” he’s had enuff you’re feet are back on the floor and mouthes are pressed passionately against eachother. he grabs your ass and lifts you onto him. he takes you right there, on the wall… the rest is a blur… and now you’re lying here with him sleeping next to you… you can’t even remember the bad things about him… him? annoying? never… in your mind, this man is perfect!!!

i think i got off the topic at hand… well… the bottom line here is that with great dick, you have the power to blind women… you make her mad, bring home some flowers and the family pack of trojan and go to work!!! i guarantee she’ll forget what the hell she was so damn mad about! i know i would! now, you have no ‘motion’ but u have a great tool, well, u know they say practice makes perfect so you should probably invest in that family pack as well… now, if u don’t have a proper tool, well, i don’t know what to say other then don’t come holla at me!!! lol…

xoxo

ladebelle