When a Woman

Tamia said it best.

When a woman stops cryin,
You best believe she has a new plan
She’s preparing for something new
Something that doesn’t include you
When a woman ceases to cry
She bout ready to say good-bye
Good-bye…

As a woman we too often find ourselves in situations, be it relationships or “it’s complicated”-ships, where we are under/unappreciated, disrespected, abused, betrayed and/or hurt. Too often we stay too long. Too often we put up with more than we should or that other person deserves. Too often we lie to ourselves and believe they can change. Too often. But why? A lot of us feel that we can’t really do better. A lot of us believe we don’t deserve better. And a lot of us are living in the fantasy, choosing to believe that the good times are better than they really are and conveniently forgetting the bad.

Women’s intuition is a sixth sense that we all have. It’s real. That feeling in your chest, in the pit of your stomach, those hairs on the back of your neck. They’re real. You’re not imagining it. Way too many men don’t believe in this gift, but it’s real. Some of us are more in touch with our intuition than others, but it’s inside all of us. Unfortunately, too many of us don’t listen to that voice, to the feeling. Those of us who ignore our intuition, also ignore the red flags. In some cases ignoring the red flags can be dangerous. That aggressiveness and possessiveness you thought was adorable before is now scary and discomforting. I ignored red flags in one particular relationship and found myself being abused. Sure that’s an extreme example but it’s a real possibility.

Your instincts, those red flags, are not to be ignored.

A weak man will try to discredit your intuition and have you believe you’re just imagining things, you’re crazy, you’re overreacting, you’re insecure- don’t buy into it. If you feel something is off deep inside, trust yourself. Not every woman who believes that something isn’t right is tapping into her intuition, there are some women who are just neurotic and insecure- but i’m not talking about them.

Some men can be so arrogant to believe that they can slither in the darkness and not be at risk for being exposed in the light.

If you can do the dirt, be prepared for the possibility of being left with a mess.

Some women love hard. I am one of them. I don’t open my heart and invite just anyone in. I can interact with someone and enjoy their company, but that doesn’t mean that I’ve let them in. If I have chosen to let you in, that’s a huge deal. I have had some good relationships, and I have had some terrible ones. It’s the terrible relationships that have shaped me into the person that I am [in a relationship] and has helped me establish what I will and won’t tolerate in one. So, if I have granted you the privilege of being apart of my heart, if I have chosen to bless you with my love- that’s a huge fucking deal.

When I am sought for advice on love and relationships, I’m full of suggestions and solutions. I am a great moderator. But just like they say doctors make the worst patients, when it comes to my own, I’m not readily able to take my own advice. I am way guilty of staying in a situation way longer than I should. I am guilty of giving more chances than they deserve. I am guilty of questioning my own intuition. I acknowledge the sensing of something off, but I don’t trust it. When something confirms my sense or suspicion, I kick myself. I knew it! But that’s not too helpful after the fact. It’s difficult to confront someone about something that has yet to happen.

When you give chance after chance  for him/her to get it right and time after time s/he disappoints you and leaves you at a fork in the road, you feel stuck. Do I just cut my losses and keep it moving? But I love him/her. Should I give him/her yet another chance? No, s/he’ll just hurt you again, lie to you again, betray you again. Then you inevitably look at yourself. Is there something that I could have done differently? I should have listened to myself. And God forbid you’re in a situation with a person who will gladly shift the blame back to you. Now you’re confused. Is it me?

Why are we the ones who have to “stick it out”? Why are we the ones who have to wait around for him/her to change? Why are we always so willing to believe that we are enough for him/her to change?

It’s a dangerous place when a woman is fed up, when a woman has had enough. Not nearly enough of us just get up and move on early, it’s usually too late. We too often stay passed the point of reconciliation. We too often stay until we can no longer bear to look at him/her.

Why do we take so long to get it? Why do we stay? Why don’t we trust our intuition?

 

 

 

Note: This post became lost in the drafts and was never published. Oops!

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An Adventure as Her: Danger

I can still feel his hands roaming my body. I can still feel his breath on my neck, the cold mirror against my face and my breasts. I can still feel his dick pressing against my ass. I can still remember how my breathing became shallow and my legs became weak.

He untied my dress and it fell to the floor. He told me to spread my legs and not to move.

 

Spread them wider.

 

I had a hard time maintaining my balance and I thought I would readjust.

 I said, “don’t move!”

 

 He spread my legs for me. I didn’t move again.

He kissed me from behind my ear, down the back of my neck, along my spine and I gasped as I felt his big hands on my behind. I could see his reflection in the mirror and I watched him bend over. I watched his face disappear behind me and I knew what was about to happen. I inhaled deeply and I held my breath as I felt his warm tongue slide between my cheeks.

 How did he know?!

The thought didn’t last long; I couldn’t contain my excitement or this pleasure. I exhaled with a moan. My breath’s condensation surrounded my cheek. My legs began to tremble and I desperately needed to reposition them but I didn’t dare move.  His hands were firmly on my waist as he buried his face deeper. I saw the fog on the mirror appear and disappear with my moans and whimpers.

He slid one of his hands in between my legs and began to caress. We had only been in this motel room for 20 minutes, this was happening so fast but no part of me wanted this to stop. He continued to stroke my pussy and I knew that my wetness was ample. I hadn’t been this aroused in a very long time.

He spread my legs farther apart and buried his head deeper and began to taste me. He moved as if my moans were directions. Every thought that I had, he moved like he knew. I thought, lick my ass ag— and he was already there.

He turned me around and I watched him undress. I stared into his eyes; I looked at his pink lips as I bit mine. My eyes roamed his muscular body but they stopped when they saw what was hanging between his legs.

Damn.

 

He pushed me down to my knees and grabbed my hair. He guided my head toward his dick, which was beckoning me. Seriously, it looked at me longingly. Maybe it didn’t, but that’s how it felt. It wanted me as badly as I wanted it. I looked up at him searching for approval as he filled my mouth.

He was pleased. He wrapped my hair around his hand and he pulled tighter. He turned my head toward the mirror as he promised he would.

Look at yourself.

 

As I watched, he slid his entire dick down my throat. I didn’t flinch. I welcomed it. It fit perfectly. My face was shiny, my eyes were glossy but I wanted this. I dreamed of it and it surpassed what my imagination created.

He pulled his dick out of my mouth and turned me toward the mirror. On my knees, he held my hands above my head as he pressed my body against the cold glass. I watched myself as I felt him kissing and licking me.

This is so fucking hot, I thought.

He guided me toward the bed and laid me down. He wrapped his hands around my ankles and yanked me toward him.

God, yes! I said to myself.

 

He lowered his body on top of me and kissed me deeply. His hands glided along my legs. He loves my legs. His hands found their way to the warmth that was glowing between my thighs. He kissed the inside of my thighs and then licked me slowly. My back arched immediately. I watched his muscular back in the mirror above us. I watched my face contort. I watched my breasts bounce. I’ve never known pleasure like this.

Breathe slowly for me.

 

I tried my best to control my breathing for him but my body had other plans in mind. He licked and touched inside of me with such finesse. I’ve never had a first encounter go this smoothly. With each stroke I felt like this was supposed to be happening. The stars aligned for this. This gorgeous man and I were supposed to experience each other. There is no other explanation.

I want you to cum for me.

 

He didn’t have to say that. I wanted to. I planned to. I-I did.

He rolled over and laid on his back. All I wanted to do was taste him again. I crawled in between his legs and licked his shaft. I slowly took him into my mouth. He looked into my eyes and told me what he wanted.

Let me hear you gag.

 

I slowly lowered my head as far as it would go and let my throat muscles relax. I braced myself with my hands on his pelvis. I bobbed up and down, saliva running down onto his thighs. The sounds seemed to please him. His moaning was driving me crazy. As I continued I could feel his dick swell inside of my mouth. He grabbed my hair and shoved his dick deeper. Tears were streaming down my face, but I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to please him. He stopped me.

He positioned me on the bed how he wanted me. I moved. C’mon, you had to know I was going to move. I was on all fours. I had to! He pushed my back down and lifted my pelvis and spread my legs with such force. My pussy throbbed. He kneeled behind me for a moment admiring my ass and caressing it. Then he spread my ass cheeks and slowly slid inside of me. I could only gasp. He stroked slowly because he knew that I was concerned about his size. As I began to ease into this rhythm he firmly grabbed my hips and slid all the way inside of me. I’m not one to cry during sex but my eyes began to sting. He felt so good. He gradually increased his speed and I met each stroke.

*smack*

Oh shit!

 

*smack*

 

You like that?

 

*mumble*

 

I can’t hear you. Tell me you like that.

 

*smack*

 

I like it!

 

*smack*

 

You love it? Tell me you love it.

 

I love it.

 

God, I loved it. His hands are so big and strong; the spanks reverberated throughout my body. Even though the sting was isolated to the red handprints I would eventually see when I got home later that night. He resumed his speed with his hands on my shoulders filling me up. He filled me all of the way up. I wanted to run but I couldn’t move. I had to take it and I did. I took it. I took all of it.

He repositioned me again. He wanted me on my back. He spread my legs. He looked me in the eyes as he slid inside of me. He slid all of the way inside. I clenched with each stroke.

I watched his body move in the mirror above me. I liked the mirrors. It was like I was physically experiencing what was actually in front of me but then I could look in the mirrors and experience it all over again from a different point of view. Watching his muscles tense and relax as he stroked. All of my senses were full of this man. I could smell him, I could feel him, I could taste him, I could— I could have just laid there and allowed this man to devour me. I would have let this man use me up until I didn’t have anything left to give. But we didn’t have the time. I could feel myself inching closer to climax so I took my head out of the clouds. My knees were pressed into my chest and I looked up at him and I asked him to choke me.  I pleaded.

He put my long legs on his shoulder. He placed his hand on my throat and tightened his grip. My entire body began to tingle. He pressed deep inside of me with this steady grip around my neck. I think I underestimated his strength. I became lightheaded. He milled deeper, he gripped tighter and I could feel it coming. With what little breath I could muster, I cursed, I screamed. I begged him to fuck me.

And he did. Well.

Months ago. And I’m sitting here with a real situation on my hands.

Frightening. This is foreign and it’s frightening. This is also intense. I can’t really grasp exactly how I feel. This is the most intensely passionate affair that I’ve ever had.

I can honestly say that I’ve never felt such an attraction to another person. Throw in this incredible sexual chemistry? I am craving this man. I need what he gives me.

Each and every moment of that night is forever emblazoned in my mind. It’s still so fresh. I can still feel his hands. I… think I’m in trouble.