Someone Like You

It’s not a weak trait to admit I miss someone.

It’s not unmanly to say that I’m afraid I’ll never find someone to replace what she did for me mentally. To replace the inspiration, the encouragement she gave me.

Going crazy thinking about the if’s, buts’ and whys… That’s natural, it’s a part of life, a part of what makes us human. It’s so easy to focus on the bad times, to focus on what makes you hate someone that you forget what they added to your life.

I’ll stop talking in second person now.

I changed my number, the number I’ve had for 10 years because it was easier to change a number than it was to not talk to her. It was easier to take off days from work and write, drink, clear my mind than it was to think about her and still try and focus. I have no desire to talk to her again but that doesn’t mean I don’t lose sleep over losing the best friend I’ve had in awhile.

See, being single is sort of like playing Russian Roulette. You have to pull the trigger and hope it doesn’t kill you. Single is something I don’t do well, I mean, I do it very well on a social level but on a mental level…

Whoever reads this, I want you to read what I’m about to write very carefully.


I’ve been single for a long time; I’ve dated and I’ve had these semi “situations” but I haven’t a girlfriend or woman to call my own in some time. I’m starting to forget what that’s like and I think that’s why I get so hopeful when a situation comes along.

I speak about sex a lot, I love sensuality, sex, freaky women and things but more than all that. I miss having that friendship that comes with mutual chemistry, that comes with being comfortable with someone.

Friendships mean the world to me, I can be a very engaging man but I’m also difficult so when I meet people that can click with me… I try so hard and maybe I push them away.

I’ll write I’m having a bad day on FB and she would call just to see what was the matter.

I would write a note and she would text me to tell me what I could have done better.

I could be sitting in a bar looking at a drink I know I didn’t need and she would just have perfect timing, saving me from myself.

Loving women hard and fast comes so natural to me that one becoming my best friend is just going to happen, it’s like a force of nature.

There were dozens of reasons why she was not what I needed but she was what I needed in that moment in time. And I know now that there will be someone like her, someone better than her and that ties in to my marriage note from last night.

When you go thru a bad situation or not even a bad situation… But a situation that just doesn’t work out you tend to think the worse but it’s the opposite for me. I look forward to these moments because I know they are preparing me for something better.

My life is on an upward swing right now, I’m writing and my book will be in people’s hands in a couple of weeks. I have two novels I’m co-writing and Conversations Between Adults is still going strong; I even have a web series coming out and my blog and magazine articles are popping. I’m blessed and more than a woman, more than sexual congratulations, I just look forward to someone like her but that’s meant for me to share this with.

People will read this and think it’s about a certain woman and a part of it is but it’s more than that. It’s about all the women I’ve met over these past couple years. Each one came into my life and I wanted the next one to be someone better than her, someone like her but with more patience or better lips.

They say you find what you’re looking for when you stop looking; I think that’s bullshit. When you’re hungry you never stop looking for food.

I’m not the type of man to run away from responsibility; most of the women I’ve lost… I’ve lost because of my shortcomings, mistakes, insecurities I’ve had. I can accept that but I can accept that I know I’m destined to find someone that’s not only like those women but that’s better than those women.

Not better as a woman or better as a person but better for me.

It’s Wednesday Morning and I’m Demez F. White, author of Walking Down the Aisle and a future great husband and father. Time flies, spend it loving your life and loving people that will love you back.

I promise you that your time will come like I know my time will come. The glaswoman in rains is always half full, not half empty. I’m going to get drunk and flirt with the cutest woman in the restaurant, that should keep my mind occupied for at least the rest of the night.

Dear You…

Dear You,

I know to a lot of people today would be considered nasty. The rain, the cold, most of your friends and family on vacation if you have to go to work. But to me today is beautiful, today is perfect for the mood I have. In my world the glass is usually half full and today is no different. When I think about you I think about the glass being half full. I think about us this time next year.

You may be thinking next Christmas is a long time away but you’re wrong beautiful. Think about how fast 2011 has flown by, think about Valentines Day, 4th of July and Easter and how they seemed like they just happened last week.

Time is moving, our lives are moving! And I have faith! Writing and faith!

I won’t say I think of you every morning but I will say I think of you most mornings. There is something in every song that reminds me of some small part of you, there is something in every thing I write that has a small essence of you in it. Fading away doesn’t exist in the world I live in because my imagination has created someone that I’m not even sure exist?

I suppose I’m a man that has options, women aren’t exactly hard to get but what I want more than anything is to not hurt anyone because I still have these morning thoughts of perfection. No one is perfect and putting those expectations on people is only going to have me writing in the morning instead of calling into work and making love to you in the morning.

In my world there is really no black and white, it’s all gray and it’s all waiting and willing to make someone happy. I’m too blessed in this world to ever be sad but the emptiness does get to me at times. I can be man enough to admit that.

Smiles, thighs and engagements

Lips, tongues and sons

Passion, lust and love

Life, you and me

That’s sort of the life I’m about and I promise on everything I am, on every novel I write and on every road I build that I will stop bullshitting and do whatever it takes to open my eyes and make your pretty ass my wife in 2012. I’m actually sorry it’s taken this long.

So enjoy these Holidays with whomever you’re spending them with and just know you will never spend another Holiday alone again.

Sincerly Yours,

Demez F. White

12 Play… Her Plays

Six– Pleasure works both ways, pleasure is control. Pleasure is life in the moment! He was giving me these blasts of pleasure and I was starting to lose control, I couldn’t lose control, not yet. His fingers were moving inside of me at a pace that was breathtaking.

I needed to take back control.

“You’re hard, let see it. Take it out now! I’m going to suck your dick like I’m mad at it!”

Running my hand over the head, feeling the vein running down the side, cupping his balls. My hands were small and I knew he loved that. So I took advantage of it, I made sure he saw my hand moving. No mouth, no jacking him off. Just touching it, rubbing it, teasing it.

Seven– He loved his hair, it was soft, a good grade. Touching it made him smile, when he was eating me, playing in his hair made his tongue flick back and forth faster. His hair was like a remote control and my pussy was the TV.

“Do you want me to suck you dick like I’m mad at it?” My hand was still rubbing the head, his eyes were pleading.

“Yes!” His voice was low.

“If you want me to do that you need to promise me you want stop eating this when I’m about to cum.” My tone was serious, focused. My hand was still wrapped around his dick; my left hand was inside of me. I let him taste my fingers.

His answer was between my legs, his answer was my back against the passenger side door. His answer was my hand in his hair.

Eight- Some nights I liked it when he used his fingers, other nights all I wanted was his tongue. Tonight was a tongue night, a gentle tap on his hand and he knew what I wanted. My moaning urged him on, he loved to hear me moan. His pride was tied to my pleasure, he would be down there all night until he knew I’d cum.

“Don’t stop…. Eat this like you want me to suck your dick. Eat this like you want me to throw this condom out the window!” His voice had been in my ear, teasing me, making me wet. Now my voice was in his head pushing him to do great things with that golden tongue of his.

“I’m cuuuuuuuumiiiing……”

Nine– The smell of sex was thick in the air, his dick was even thicker hanging between the hole of his boxers. He’d done what I’d asked, I’d cum hard and he’d sucked it all up without complaint. I didn’t even want to look at my phone to see what time it was. Pleasure was taking over at the moment.

“Sit up and let your seat back and you better be hard!” His hands were on the steering wheel, I didn’t bother letting my skirt down or putting my breasts back in the proper place. Women didn’t spit so I let me mouth get wet while he was inside of me, the slurping sound thumping throughout the truck.

The harder I sucked, the more he moved in his seat, the wetter I got. The more I moved in my seat. I wanted to taste his cum, I wanted to give him the same feeling with my mouth he gave me with his but I needed it inside of me. The way it grew, the way it pushed against my throat, I needed to feel that. Ride that.

Ten– His seat was already reclined, the windows already fogged, my panties already wet beyond driving home in. They were now on the floor of the passenger side.

“You earned this pussy tonight.” My mouth found his again and straddling him felt like the most natural thing in the world. My hands on the edges of his seat, his hand on my ass, his mouth on my breast. There was no screaming, no words. Just breaths.

The feeling of him inside of me was life and death at the same time.

Life and death at the same time…

Eleven– I looked in his eyes, he looked in my eyes. I slowed down and started to grind, started to feel all the pressure he’d built up. I was supposed to get up, supposed to control the urge to feel him explode inside of me.

But lust doesn’t work like that.

Our bodies didn’t work like that.

Twelve– I love you.

Late Nights… Early Mornings

At what point is the line crossed?

When does pleasure equal insanity?

Cold mornings, looking out the window, frost on the hood of the truck. Saturday are supposed to be for sleeping in, catching up on college sports and watching shows on On Demand I was too busy to watch during the week. But how was I supposed to sleep with her lying naked in my bed, with the music playing in the back ground? Maybe it was three, four, I really can’t remember when I got the call.

I’m really drunk and they don’t have any rooms left at this hotel, one of my coworkers told me I could stay with him but he has beady eyes and I don’t trust him! I need you to come get me, I can’t drive home like this.

I looked at my phone and realized it was almost thirty degrees outside, the hotel she was at was clear across town and Saturday would be my first day of doing absolutely nothing in weeks. But she was my friend and I knew how much she hated asking for favors. Well, she was more than a friend and…

Now I was standing at the window, watching the ice on the grass melt. Hot chocolate in my hand, the music low enough so that it wouldn’t wake her. I gave her my bed, undressed her down to her panties and tucked her in. I definitely got a peek or two even though I’d seen it all before but it didn’t go past that, sex with us was toxic, explosive. My temper was bad, hers was worse and jealously was an ever present theme.

It’s something about your love that’s got me going crazy
Baby, you know I want you real bad
And girl I really like your freaky style
How can I be down with you?
So get a little closer to my ride
I wanna get to know you lady
And hip me up on how to get inside you
Listen, pretty baby

“So I wake up to the smell of hot chocolate and Kels? I should call you drunk and incoherent more often.” She took the mug out of my hands and took a sip, she didn’t hand it back.

“I saw my toothbrush was still in your bathroom, I’m guessing you didn’t let any of your groupies use it.” The smile on her face was subtle; she knew I didn’t have company over.

I took my mug back out of her hands and took a sip, “That was your toothbrush? I use it to clean from time to time.” She took the mug.

“If I didn’t have this headache, I would beat you up, so you’re lucky.” She started towards the kitchen. Small feet and hardwood floors made for no sounds, there was a sexual undertone to everything she did. I have no idea where she got a tank top from but she was wearing one with her panties. She was always comfortable in her skin.

Baby you know I’d be down
But we can’t have all these people starin’ standin’ around
This right here is only for your eyes to see
But you gettin carried away
Saying we can (Do it where ever)

The way you touching me
Like no other (I’m gonna make you feel insane)
You trying your hardest to make me give in
But I’m gonna be down to give you what you want
And if you keep it up

I strongly doubt this velvet rope hold me up
And I don’t won’t security rollin’ up on us (I got you)
I’m not hesitating I just don’t wanna rush
You could be anywhere you wanted

“What are you trying to do with this music? I just told you I have a headache but you’re playing shit that’s going to have me singing and dancing at the stove… Pass me a skillet, this kitchen is spotless, when is the last time you cooked?”

I gave up hope of getting my mug back so I pulled out another and started on another cup of hot chocolate. “It’s been awhile, I don’t do a lot of cooking but I have groceries. I figured I’d cook sooner or later. Can you make French toast?” It was cool seeing her stand at the stove, the sound of meat hitting a skillet, water running in the sink. Those sounds were foreign in this kitchen.

“I guess I can make French toast since you got me last night…” She opened the fridge and turned around, her face got serious. “Thank you, why did you do it?

I wanted to tell her I did it because I missed her, I missed this. Because women like her weren’t a dime a dozen and I would have driven to Dallas to make sure she slept in a warm bed safe and sound. But looking in her eyes I saw she needed more than that today. I needed more than that this morning.

I put the hot chocolate down and walked towards the fridge.

“How long has it been?” She smiled and turned around, she knew what I was talking about.

“I’m not telling you that.” She took out the grapes and washed them off, the smile never leaving her face.

“We’ve talked about sex before so what makes this different?” I walked to where she was, she placed a grape in my mouth.

“This is different because you’re never looking at me like you’re looking at me now when we talk about sex, it’s always on the phone. I don’t like when you look at me like this.” She put another grape in my mouth. I touched her lips, she didn’t move my hand.

“How long has it been Erica?”

“It’s been too long and you looking at me like this is just making it worse.” I took the grapes out of her hand and sat them on the counter. I picked her up and sat her on the counter.

“I was surprised you were wearing panties when I undressed you last night?” She opened her legs.

“I always wear them when I know I’m going home alone.” I raised her tank top and felt around the edges of her panties. She put her palms on the counter and arched her back.

I could see her nipples poking out the shirt, she wasn’t wearing a bra, I bit the left one, she moaned.

I bit she right one, she purred.

I slid my hand on the inside of the green panties and she was soaking wet. One finger in because she was so tight, the middle finger because it was the longest. My thumb on her clit, a come here motion going on in the inside of her pussy. A rubbing motion circling the magic button.

“You’re tight, is it hurting you?”

She could barely talk, she just shook her head no.

“Can I taste it?” I started to push another finger inside, she grabbed my head and tried to pull my lips to hers. But I wouldn’t come, I just kept fingering, kept rubbing.

“Yes! Yes! You can taste it…” I slid her panties off, picked her up and sat her on the kitchen table. I pulled the chair right up in-between her legs, kissed the inside of her thigh. Kissed the outside of her thigh, ran my tongue from her clit to her belly button and…. Neyo came on next on the shuffle.

Little mama keep your chin up, please watch me do the…nasty
I like it when you make it move fast
Mami if I pull your head back
Cause I want you to see that we look so good together
I understand that your not ready for me to make my directorial debut
featuring me but starring you
Baby that’s okay with me
Honestly this is the next best thing

She trembled, it had been a long time since a man touched her where I was touching her, it’d been an ever longer time since a man had his tongue where I had my tongue. As much as I wanted to bend her over the table and see how it would feel to put it inside I calmed myself and took my time.

We joked about pineapples and mangos, she loved juices and water, yogurt and veggies. So I wasn’t surprised when there was a sweet flavor coming from her core. The more her pussy throbbed and pulsated with me flicking the clit, the louder she got.

“I can’t remember the last time I’ve had a real orgasm.” I heard her words in my head, I heard them so clear. I remembered the conversation, she would find out orgasms were real tonight.

I sucked on her clit until her small purple nails were gripping at my hair, until her voice went from sweet to vulgar. Her ass was bouncing up and down on the table, just thirty more seconds I told myself. As good as she tasted, I knew I couldn’t stay down there too long.

A woman should never get used to you eating her the way I was eating her or else she wouldn’t want the dick.

There was a count down going on in my head…

5… 4… 3…. 2… 1…

She was leaking, it was cumming down my chin, as much as I wanted to lick her ass crack and suck it all up I just stood up.

“Why are you stopping? Don’t stop!!! I want to cum again!” The lust in her eyes was full blown, her voice was hoarse from the moaning and screaming. She was sitting on the table with her legs open, her hands rubbing the spot I’d just sucked into frenzy.

The modest woman was gone, my hands and tongue brought out the freak that was inside of every woman.

“Come here.” I wasn’t loud, I wasn’t forceful, I just said it and walked off to the living room.  I didn’t turn around but I could hear her footsteps following me, as soon as I sat on the couch she was on my lap. Straddling me, her hands around my neck, her mouth on my mouth.

“I want to see what I taste like.” She said as she licked my lips, sucked my tongue.

Every time we hung out, every time she sent a picture I imagined this moment. Imagined my lips on her lips, they were so full, so pretty, so soft, so perfect. I would have been happy lying in bed kissing her all night, I was supposed to be turning her out but she was flipping the script now.

The cold and wind were adding to the atmosphere, her hands were reaching for the drawstrings to my pajama pants, I didn’t stop her. She fell to the floor and looked up at me before she pulled it out and put it in her mouth without any hesitation. I had no choice but to close my eyes and imagine something else or else I would have cum right then and there from the feeling I was getting from my dick inside of those perfect lips.

She slurped and sucked, jacked me off and repeated the process. I looked down and watched her head bob up and down. I wouldn’t last another minute and I didn’t want to cum like this, not the first time.

Pulling her up and sitting her on my lap, I fit inside of her like a glove.

“You know you need to put on a condom right?” She said it while trying to suppress a moan.

I gripped her ass and placed my finger in her mouth, “Fuck a condom and take this dick!”

She was creaming all over me and I was meeting every thrust. Her feet were sitting on the couch, she was squatting on top and riding me like she was a seasoned pro. It was still tight as hell but we’d found a rhythm.

“You can’t cum in me honey! You can’t cum in me!”

As much as I wanted to I knew she was right, standing up, still inside of her I walked her over to the door. Her legs wrapped around my waist…

Conversations Between Adults Series III coming soon…


Walking Down the Aisle Available now…

Mental Erotica…

Is there anything better than watching, looking, anticipating… What’s going to come next? There’s an art to loving a woman, you have to be intimate with more than just her body. Arousal on a physical level is easy to come by but arousal on a mental level is what makes a woman fall.

Seeing her lying on the bed, her back against the headboard, all he wanted to do was watch and all she wanted was him to watch. She got off on looking him in the eyes while she touched herself, she was turned on by the self control he had not to grab her by the ankles and pull her pussy to his lips.

Men looked at her all the time but he looked thru her, his eyes caught every perfection and every imperfection and he made sure to kiss, touch and lick each and every one before it was over.

Some nights he was rough, nasty and insatiable.

Some nights he was warm, slow and patient.

And some nights it was fast, hard and a rush.

But no matter what position or what amount of time, it was always pleasurable. Because in his mind it wasn’t real if she didn’t cum. He loosened his tie, took the gum out his mouth and placed it in the wrapper he took out his pocket. The only sounds in the room were her fingers swirling around in her cat.

Her heart started to beat faster as he approached, her breaths more ragged, her clit throbbing at the sight of his lips.

“Are you ready to cum?”

She was already cumming at the sound of his voice, at the presence he brought into the room with him. She opened her legs wider, licked her lips and moaned…

“Come make me cum!”


 If he knew one thing he knew this, it always started with the tip. The tip of a tongue, the tip of a finger, the tip of a penis. The tip of her clit, it didn’t matter, the tip was always the first to go into battle. The tip tested to see if the waters were warm, if the pussy was ready.

She lived and died with the tips of his extremities.

He knew her body almost as well as she did; it was impossible for any man to know a woman’s body better than she did but he was damn close. He watched her motion while she touched herself, he studied every movement, every rotation. He knew when he jacked off there was a certain rhythm to it, a rhythm that only he understood. So it only made sense that she had that same rhythm when she touched herself.


Lying on red satin sheets her skin felt warm, she could feel the sweat on her back, her neck. She knew she would cum big tonight, it was early in the game and her body was already reacting to the stimulation.

He got on his knees on the side of the bed, his shoes off and his jacket on the floor.

“That’s it baby, don’t stop, I love watching you make yourself cum. Do you know how fucking sexy you look right now, do you know how pretty your pussy is? I see it in your eyes, cum for me so I can make you cum again.”

His hand fingered her nipple, but he didn’t raise her shirt.

His tongue shot out and licked the tip of her ear, she moaned louder. That was one of her spots, he knew all her spots.


To Be Continued… to purchase Walking Down the Aisle and Conversations Between Adults