Wear This and I’ll Smile

Heels= Pleasures

Heels= Pleasures

I’m motivated by conversations.. By pictures and by songs.

There are plenty of things in life that make me smile. An alert from Wells Fargo or PayPal that money I wasn’t expecting got deposited. A steak that’s so tender I literally savor every bite. Having a beautiful woman comment on my writing. More than anything though, I appreciate a well dressed woman. Fitted jeans and a loose blouse, quality heels. A sundress and colorful toes. Linen pants or denim shorts and a tank top, sunglasses on a road trip to Austin or New Orleans. Style and beauty are dopeness incarnated.

It’s obvious the things women can wear that every warm blooded straight man will love. A t-shirt and panties, lingerie, a maxi dress (not sure most men know the exact name) that literally hugs every curve. It’s deeper than that though for me. It’s not what she wears but how she wears it. Sweats and a t-shirt with nothing on but lip gloss. A pencil skirt and blouse, barefoot at my door because the heels have been killing her feet. There’s so much beauty is simplicity and knowing she’s comfortable around me.

I’m often asked why I write about women so much. The truth is I’m addicted. Not to sex or to blowjobs but to what women represent, what they do for my writing. I can admit my limitations in life whether it be finically, sexually, emotionally, professionally. What I can also admit is a kind hearted woman in the right outfit with the right heels and right words makes me feel like I can overcome all those limitations.

Have you ever given a woman a pair of heels? Where she takes the bag from your hand, opens the box and her mouth opens. You know the exact size and her style, you bought a color that goes perfect with the colors she likes to wear. You can literally see the eroticism in her eyes while she tries them on. Walking across the living room floor like it’s a catwalk. Sitting on my lap, whispering how she’s going to thank me while only wearing the heels. I’m not the guy that can spoil at the drop of a dime, Sallie Mae is too jealous for that. But when I get it right; I get it right.

Wantfulness…

dress-naked.jpgI honestly don’t know which I enjoy more. Taking a woman’s clothes off or watching her put them back on. I know it’s a Sunday and I hope the Lord forgives me for these explicit thoughts that are in my mind but for some reason I can’t stop thinking about sex.

This could be a product of our oversexed society or this could be a product of me not being inside of a woman for awhile but either way these thoughts are driving me crazy. So instead of going thru my phone and making a call I shouldn’t or watching porn I’ll write about it.

Lying in bed, my back against the headboard, music playing. The ceiling fan blowing what feels like hot hair because I can’t get my heart beat to slow down. Watching a woman stand there naked, not really sweaty but not really dry if that makes sense. A glow on her face, stepping inside of her panties or putting them in her purse. The curvature of her ass and hips befitting of the moment, hard nipples that haven’t realized the pleasure has come to an end.

Flash backs of the intense and nasty moments playing in my mind as she tries her best to fix her hair. Me trying my best not to pull her back on the bed and do what both our bodies are screaming for us to do. There’s not a thin line between desire and patience, the line is thick and welcoming. Once the flood gates to desire open there’s not really any turning back. I’ve written this a dozen times, sex was made for marriage because there is nothing on this earth more powerful. No feeling draws you in as deep as the feeling of wantfulness.