Stop With the Small Talk and Plan A Date; It May Change Your Life

It’s easy to be the man that steps up when he’s supposed to step up. When it’s her birthday, you’re on point. When it’s your anniversary, there’s not a better date planner in the world. She’s excited about a promotion; you’ll have the champagne and flowers ready as soon as she walks through the door. That’s only like 10% of a relationship though, 10% of the dating process. What about the other days, the other nights?

Calling a woman or texting a woman and asking her, “WYD” or “It’s supposed to rain tonight so what do you want to eat?” You might see it as sensible or something that just makes sense after a long day but sometimes you have to not only take control but also crave control. If you’re a man reading this I want you to ask yourself one question, “When is the last time I called a woman and told her, ‘I’m picking you up at 8, wear that black dress I saw you in when you went to your best friend’s party back in May.” Don’t be afraid of her saying she has plans, don’t be afraid of “I’m tired.” Be afraid of being ordinary.

I don’t care if your woman is in charge of the largest department in her company. I don’t care if she makes twice what you make and had to let your little brother “borrow” some money for a textbook. That doesn’t take away from that fact that just because she has to be superwoman out there doesn’t mean she wants to be that at home or in her relationship. So many men complain about dating when the truth is all you’re doing is setting a standard that lets her know she can stop entertaining those other guys. One way to do that is by simply being tastefully aggressive.

What’s tasteful aggression? It’s being the man that knows what he wants and is an adult about expressing it and actively pursuing her. Not just asking a woman out on a date or out for drinks but telling her where, what time and what you like to see her in. Not the cheesy lingerie or panty talk but actual clothes. Colors, styles, how you like her hair. If you’re a genuine guy she won’t take it as you trying to control her or tell her how to dress. She’ll take it as you being a man that pays attention.

In 2017 everyone takes pride in being laid back, in being cool. You want to know what I take pride in? Being serious about the people that matter to me and while I’m being serious I’ll take time to laugh, smile, flirt but she won’t have hesitations about my intentions.

May I Have This Dance?

first dance ring I’d like to watch you dance in the middle of the room with every one watching.
Your smile and energy making every woman envious that she’s not you and every
Man jealous that he’s not me.

Your hips moving, your eyes making love to me, enticing me, teasing me.
Me trying not to smile, trying to be serious but your spirit sucking me in.
Biting your lips, licking your tongue out at me, your body so in sync with the music
That I can’t help but think this song was created just for you.

Walking across the dance floor, sweaty bodies in my way, drunken laughter in my ears.
I watch you turn away man after man, woman after woman, your essence addictive.
My hands on your hips, your hands around my neck, whispering to me.

Your whispers pull me closer. The moment pulls me closer. You tell me what my cologne is doing to you.
You tell me what dancing for me is doing to you. We’re not moving with the music anymore.

Our bodies have their own rhythm. No one is in this room but you and I. No one matters but you and I.

~ Demez F. White

Lust At First Sight

20140603-055513.jpgI don’t know if I’ve ever believed in love at first sight. I suppose part of me wants to but love is a verb, an action word so to love someone without knowing them just doesn’t make much sense to me. I do however believe in lust at first sight. The feeling you get when you see a woman for the first time and you imagine everything from kissing her to holding her hand to more graphic acts.

Personally speaking I have always thought that lust gets a bad rap. People talk about it in a sinful way but the thing is lust controlled is perfectly healthy. It’s natural to become aroused when you see someone that’s physically or mentally appealing to you.

I have some more thoughts but it’s almost the weekend; the people that are at work aren’t working hard so I’m going to write a quickie note.

Mid Day Sin…

Sitting on the top floor of the parking garage, no other cars around her she couldn’t stop smiling. Most of the building either on vacation or called in sick she let the sun warm her. Her blue tooth was in her ear so that both her hands would be free when the call came. They hadn’t talked in two weeks and she missed the hell out of him. If she was being honest with herself she couldn’t even remember what they were fighting about and just when she was about to break the text came in at 2am.

‘I mss you.’ She read those three little words and responded back.

‘I miss you too!’ Just like that they spent the entire night texting. ‘I’ll call you tomorrow at lunch baby; wear that black pencil skirt with the red heels, no panties.’

She was wearing exactly what he’d asked, beyond wet at the thought of hearing his voice after so long.

‘Hello.’ The phone didn’t finish one ring before she answered.

‘Hey baby! I’m still pissed at you for waiting two weeks to text me! But I’m sooo horny and you have been neglecting your friend!’ On the 17th floor she was all class, all professional tact but right here, right now. She could talk nasty and be the woman she knew he loved.

‘Lift your skirt up and place the phone to my friend so I can apologize.’ She kept the blue tooth in her hear, raised her skirt and placed her middle finger on the magic button.

‘She’s listening.’

‘I just want you to know that what me and Jewels have going on has nothing to do with me missing you, kissing you, licking you, putting my dick inside of you. I’m going to make it up to you in about thirty seconds.’ She jumped when she heard the tap on the window.

‘I told you I missed you both!’

Just like that they were starting their weekend off right.

I Had A Dream About You Last Night

20140327-200825.jpg I Had A Dream About You Last Night

It felt real. I was actually mad at myself for waking up and even madder with myself that I couldn’t get back to sleep. In my dream you were in a white dress, it wasn’t a wedding dress or anything formal. Just a simple linen dress that hugged your curves. It was sleeveless and came to right above your knees, the neckline plunged just enough. You know what I remember most about the dream, it was your hair. Thick and curly, in a bun that I could let loose and play in, run my fingers through it.

It smelled really good, like mangos. We were standing really close, face to face. You couldn’t stop smiling, why I don’t know. You’d look me in the eyes and look away. You look me in the eyes and look away. There’s a breeze, you hold your dress down, I rub your neck, you touch my hand. A moment passes between us. A moment that leads to me leaning in and kissing you. The dream scares me because I can taste your lips, I can taste to the flavor of the gum. It’s takes a second, maybe a couple seconds, to catch each other’s rhythm but once we do we can’t pull away. When I go for your neck and you whisper in my ear, “I’m so wet.” I can’t control myself after that. I can see your eyes light up, the aggression take control.

Dreams are worst than nightmares for me. I can accept nightmares, I don’t mind waking up looking around with my heart beating, feeling like I’ve escaped hell. A couple seconds after my eyes adjust and I realize I’m in my bed the nightmare doesn’t scare me anymore. Dreams are different though. Dreams don’t fade away once my eyes adjust because the feeling of euphoria the dream gives me can never die. Your smile, your moan, the way my hands feel gripping your waist, it feels like something I loss. Not like something that never existed. Dreaming about you, is it God’s way of telling me that this dream is just a preview of what’s to come? That this is going to be more than a dream.

I had a dream about you last night and I can’t wait to go home and see what tonight’s dream has in store.

Destination Wedding! Memories To Live For!

Paradise Wedding

Paradise Wedding

I know a lot of people but I don’t have a lot of friends. I’ve become comfortable with that. You have a circle of people you can depend on, talk to, love and the rest are simply associates. Knowing this about myself and of course depending on the woman I marry; I have no desire to have this huge wedding where we’re feeding 300 strangers and stressing out over flowers and bridesmaids and whether or not we should have an open bar because, well, receptions are just better with open bars.

I still make mistakes, a lot of them, but over the years the one thing that I don’t do anymore is compare who I am to who other men are. If a guy has 12 fraternity brothers or played football and is still cool with most of his teammates maybe he wants that big wedding. If a woman works at a hospital and knows every nurse at St. Luke’s maybe she’s looking forward to having 12 bridesmaids.

This isn’t about “my way is better than your way,” it’s simply saying I’d rather spend 30k on a trip to paradise, living like royalty for two weeks and maybe enough for a down payment on a new car or home. Seeing her in the dress is important but the only reason is because it’s her in the dress. Not the lace or the fit or the designer. Let’s use that dress to make memories I can place on my desk while I write, I can look at on my phone when I’m mad at you and remember why I need to go home instead of to happy hour.

Men aren’t supposed to care about these sorts of things but believe me when I tell you I do. Taking underwater pics, me in my tux, you in your dress. Jumping off a cliff into a waterfall representing us jumping into our marriage fearlessly! Cake on your chin, icing on your dress. Sand on our toes, we’ll look and feel a mess but the pictures and memories will be worth it. I have no doubt about that. A destination wedding is the way to go!
under wedding3

Forever Isn’t Long Enough

flowers Sitting at my desk listening to Teddy Pendergrass, drinking this last bit of rum and juice seeing my forever in front of me I can’t help but to smile. I’ve sort of gotten away from writing about love and marriage and being lonely. I’ve made an effort not to write about how much I’m looking forward to seeing you walk down the aisle.

I’ve stopped writing about how I’ve thought about everything from how I’ll propose to you to where we’ll make love for the first time as husband and wife. In the limo after the ceremony. In the hotel room on the floor. Will your dress be too fluffy for me to bring you to ecstasy while you have it on? Will it be different, will it feel different? I started pretending like my novel isn’t about marriage and commitment. I stopped being me because I was worrying about what people would think. Is he lonely, is he sad, did someone break his heart? I couldn’t be that guy you see, I didn’t want to be perceived like that. Why not though? What’s the matter with being the guy that wants a wife? What’s the matter with being the man that looks forward to watching you stress about flowers and bridesmaids and who’s going to move in with who?

Stairway to Heaven is playing as I’m typing and I can’t stop smiling, I can’t stop bouncing my leg and bobbing my head to the music. Maybe I’m drunk, I don’t think so, but maybe. I can see you standing in front of my desk, slow dancing, smiling, twirling and almost falling. I can see the happiness in your eyes, I can see your bare feet on the hardwood floors. “Put your hand in mine and come on this stairway to Heaven with me.” There’s no question mark because I’m not asking, I’m telling.

My entire life I’ve felt alone. Never really had a bestfriend, I didn’t get to know my brother until I was in my 20’s. My family is the coolest and most supportive people you’ll ever meet but even with them I’ve just always had a spot inside of me they couldn’t get to. A spot that I’ve always known is reserved for you, a spot that’s reserved for our love. My family is my family and that will never change! But my forever, my life, my heart, my bestfriend and lover and secret barer will be you. I’m 30 and I’ve never been completely honest with anyone in my life.

I can’t wait to sit up on nights when we can’t sleep and just talk. That’s all really. You’ll think I’m crazy but do you know I’ve never just sat up and talked with a woman all night. No sex, no falling asleep with her head on my lap. I’d like that, I want that. To just talk about old movies, old loves, our parents. I feel like I’m an orphan at times, not physically but mentally. A father that sees me and doesn’t know who I am, literally doesn’t know who I am because he’s so drunk. A mother that wasn’t ready to be a mom when she had me. I want to rub your stomach and tell you about how that made me fell. I need to listen to you talk about when you were at your lowest point so that I can never take you to that place. So that I can protect you and hate who you hate, love who you love, appreciate who protected you before me.

Forever isn’t long enough because I’ve already spent 30 years without you. You understand that right? I need you to understand that babe. I need you to get that I wouldn’t be ashamed to cry if I met you and lost you. I wouldn’t be afraid to show up and tell you that I waited for you so long that I can’t imagine life without you. That shit scares the hell out of me! Knowing that when that moment comes my life won’t be my life anymore. It excites me but scares me at the same damn time! I’m ready to be in love, to really be in “you love me like I love you love.”

It’s 1am, who’s up reading at 1am? Maybe you are, hopefully you are. Maybe you aren’t but who cares right. I’m speaking it into existence. People like my writing, people really read it and enjoy it, I take pride in that. I want you to be proud of me, I want you to motivate and inspire me. I want your naked body to be my muse. I need your skin to be my canvas, I need my tongue to be a paint brush. I like giving oral, I haven’t written that before, not as me. But I really like knowing the woman I’m with is pleased. I haven’t done it in awhile, do you know why? I realized I don’t want to be the guy that’s fucking and licking on someone that isn’t you. It’s you I want on the tip of my tongue, it’s you I want naked sitting on my desk when you’re horny. I want to put a son into you!

I’ll chill now before I say too much, before too much of who I am comes out in these words.

I Love You Until Forever Isn’t Forever…

I Need You…

dress naked“Can you unzip my dress?”

She was acting like he hadn’t been calling her for the past two days. Like she hadn’t been ignoring his calls and texts. Like he hadn’t seen her on FB and twitter posting pictures and statuses and tweeting like she was having the time of her life.

But how could he expect her to know how pissed off he was if she was standing in his living room with her back turned to him. Her dress sitting slightly below her ass, her shoulders bare, her coat sitting on the arm of his chair.

“Where have you been Kortney?”

He already knew the answer to her question. He’d been losing his mind waiting on her to call, waiting on her to text, waiting on her to understand he was a better option than any man out there. He already knew she wanted to run wild and he was trying to tame her. But how do you tame a woman that’s in heat? How do you look past all her beauty and sex appeal and feminine wiles to tell her you need her for more than what she has between her legs? He stood up, unzipped her dress and realized he couldn’t because she was everything he ever wanted.

“I’ve been busy baby, I’m sorry for not being around. I missed you, why do you think I’m here. I love you.”

He had no idea whether or not she meant it but what he did know is that he needed to believe it. He wanted to believe it.

Unzipping her dress, pulling it down, her lace panties fitting her body like a glove he kissed her lower back and held her. She turned around and fell to her knees between her legs. “I love you,” she said. “I need you,” she said. “Don’t give up on me baby,” she said as she unzipped his pants and looked up at him.

He needed to hear the words, he needed to feel her warmth on him. He needed to not think about what life was like without her.

Why Men Love Women In Dresses…

I’ve often heard women say they love seeing a man work with his hands. Fixing a car, mowing a yard, building a deck on the back porch. Women are just attracted to manly men.


Men are just attracted to womanly women. And what’s the sexiest thing a woman can wear outside of skin and lace? A dress.

When I see a woman in a dress I simply imagine everything from what’s underneath, to is she wearing panties to how her skin feels. There’s something magical about knowing that by unzipping a zipper or button or two that one piece of clothing is falling off.

Dresses are like love songs that are sexy but smooth.

Sundresses, chic 9-5 work dresses, cocktail little black dresses. They all have one thing in common, they belong on perfect thighs and soft ankles.

Pretty fingernails and toenails, collarbones and lips. Dresses just help accent those details and make life better.

My name is Demez and I love women. Especially the ones in dresses!

Lunch Dates…

“I only get 30 minutes for lunch. I’m going to have to work an extra half hour since I’m giving you an hour.”

“Wait… I’m not worth you having to text and play on Twitter an extra 30 minutes at your desk?”

“Hmmm. I’m not sure yet and just so you know. I work!”

I’d taken the day off to take her to lunch. We’d met once, talked on the phone a couple times and text’d more than enough. Lunch dates were the perfect date. It’s timed so if things go bad there’s a built in escape. If things go well there’s this excitement you wear the rest of the day.

I decided to wear slacks and loafers even though I was off. Impressions are everything.

Her black skirt kept riding up her thighs but if she wasn’t trying to pull it down, I wasn’t complaining.

“I would ask you what you want to drink but I know you have to go back to work.”

I slid the drink menu out of her reach, she rolled her eyes and picked up my glass. Downing the Remy straight.

“I can handle my liquor Author. The question is can you handle me?”

There was no smile on her face, she was waiting on me to blink. She didn’t know me well.

“You got a drop on your chin, let me get that.” I wiped the water from the glass off her chin and she licked it off my finger.

I blinked.

“You’re dangerous.”

“I’m also not wearing panties. What’s your point?”

To Be Continued…

Just Watch… (Explicit Content)

At first I thought it was a dream, the knocking at the door. But then I remembered I’d left the gate open, my cell was on the floor next to the couch dead, there was no clock on the cable box and once the sun was down there was no telling 10pm from 3am. The Remy martin 1738 and ambien had me knocked out since six, I could hear the doctors voice in my head telling me Michael Jackson died from trying to find rest in his sleep with the wrong combination but it was just two pills and two glasses.

Rubbing my face, tasting the dryness of my tongue the knocking at the door wouldn’t stop, it wasn’t a dream. Looking out the blinds I saw her car, parked behind my truck, clean has usual, her passenger side tires on the grass. That told me she was tipsy. the bugs were attracted to the light hanging over the door, she was swating them away, cursing under her breath. I opened the door and she walked right past me.

Standing at the fridge she drank orange juice straight from the carton, took a bite of a peach without rinsing it off. Wiping the juice from her mouth and smiling.

“Your phone was going to voicemail, I was hoping you had a bitch over here so I could make her leave but you disappoint.” She shook her head and took another swig of orange juice. A white sleeveless dress with a plunging neckline, gold accessories and her hair sitting over her left shoulder.

She was the only woman I knew that could and would come over unannounced.

“Go sit on the couch and cut on my playlist and before you look stupid, I know you have a playlist with my name on your iPod.” She walked into the bathroom and left the door open. The rest of the house was dark except that room and the TV on mute. I cut on her playlist, it was everything from Dipset to Beyonce. My bottle and glass were still on the floor, I poured myself a shot and let it roll down my throat.

Heels in her right hand, steaming towel in her left hand she stood inbetween my legs and leaned down kissing me on the forehead.

“You’re drunk… I’m drunk, drunk people don’t make love. They fuck. Don’t touch me, just watch.” She sat on the ottoman with her legs open. Inching up she raised her dress to her stomach and stuck her middle finger out for me, I caught it in my mouth and sucked it, she put that same finger in her mouth and then she found that spot between her legs that made life worth living.

“I like when you watch, you try to act so calm but you know you want to taste this. It’s Memorial Day Weekend, you know there are no panties allowed until Tuesday. It may take me a little longer to do this with my fingers, I’m used to my toys or your tongue.” Her eyes open she sucked me in, licking her wet lips and moaning my name, saying my name, whispering my name I saw her move her manicured nails faster and faster. The pink polish stood out against her brown thighs.

“It isn’t cheating if I don’t let you touch me.” I was fighting the battle of my life on the inside, I could see me bending her over the couch, burying my face inside of her. Pushing my hardness inside of her.

He owned her whether she would admit or not and to touch her would be a betrayal she wasn’t prepared for. Her eyes were daring me to take the chance, they were daring me to say fuck her rules and take what she was putting in front of me. But to take that tonight and indulge in that pleasure would be to put her well being at risk and that wasn’t something I was willing to do so I just watched.