Believe You’re Worth Everything You Desire

  Comfort. 

Comfort is a great word. When I think of comfort I think of a pair of boxers fresh out the dryer after a hot shower, a cold beer, my couch and a good game. For some comfort is a pint of Blue Bell, thick fuzzy socks and stalking their favorite people on Instagram. Comfort can be an amazing thing but it can also be dangerous to growth, success and passion. 

When you become comfortable at a job or in a relationship it’s human nature to take your foot off the gas. It becomes the most logical thing in the world to believe you are we’re you’re supposed to be. That’s where belief has to come in; the belief that you can soar past your station in life. No one can believe in us like we can believe in us. Like we have to believe in us. 

Social media leads so many into a false sense of accomplishment. I’ve had hundreds or likes on a post or hundreds of shares on a blog and it’s a good feeling knowing people follow you but it no where near compare to the feeling of receiving a check. Of having that belief that if I stop giving away my services for free; that people will still buy into me. If you desire greatness in life there’s no formula that allows you to jump the line. Invest in yourself, put time into your talent, support others and network and just work your tail off! 

At the age of 32 there are days where I feel like I haven’t accomplished a thing. Days where my confidence and aggression and sense of hope feel like they’re fading. Then there are days where I see the horizon. I see the progress. I see the company and writing growing and evolving. Either way on either day I’m never losing the belief that I can get where I want to get. I’m never going to doubt that God has a plan for me and that plan includes any struggles and missteps I might endure. 

In every great man or woman’s life there has come a point where they decided the risk was worth the reward. Some sacrificed steady jobs, some the loves of their lives and some their piece of mind. That’s a decision you’ll have to make on your own. 
Demez F. White 

I Don’t Know If I’m A Better Man Than Him but I’m A Better Man For You

20140721-194134.jpg I Don’t Know If I’m A Better Man Than Him but I’m A Better Man For You

I’m sure he’s a great guy, a good man. He probably calls you and asks if you need anything before he comes over. He opens your door and hugs you. But does your heart beat uncontrollably when you know he’s on the other side of that door? Does your body betray you and want him even when your mind is saying “wait?”

I know you’re comfortable around him. Your friends think he’s sweet, he calls you at just the right times, text you seconds after you text him. But does he push you against the door and take that kiss? Does he turn you around and kiss your shoulders, suck your shoulders? Or does he ask.

He believes in you but he doesn’t know how to motivate you.

He takes you dancing but has he ever whispered in your ear, “Dance for me baby.”

With him it’s peaceful and everything’s according to plan. You’re not that type of woman though. You like the occasional argument, the sex in inappropriate places, the road trips on a Wednesday just because.

I don’t know if I’m a better man than him but I know we make each other better. I know when we’re in bed it’s about more than sex, more than sleep. We touch each other without ever touching each other. You’re comfortable with him but with me you’re comfortable.

I once wrote that you’re single until you’re married and I meant that. I’d never try and take a woman that’s in a happy and healthy relationship but I’d by lying to you and myself if I didn’t recognize the obvious. He can’t make you as happy as I can make you.

I made a mistake. I opened that door for him. I have to live with the consequences of that. I don’t owe him anything, therefore if you have to break his heart for your heart to come home. So be it.

Or maybe this is all in my head and you never existed at all.

Demez

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

Nights That Turn Into Forevers

Dear Future Wife,

I can’t take care of a woman at this point in my life. It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just not in my budget. I’d love to spoil you, treat you, fly you out to every book signing. Give you the option to work or not. I need 3 years, maybe 4. We can pay bills together, save together, stress and struggle together. Give me that and I promise I’ll give you the world.

~ A Hello
~ A First Date
~ A Courtship
~ An Engagement
~ Watching You Walk Down the Aisle
~ A Daughter that Looks Like You
~ A Son that’s as Smart As Me
~ A Couple of Forevers
= Happily Ever After

Love Always and Forever,
Demez

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14 Perfectly Romantic Valentine’s Ideas

vday idea 14 Perfectly Romantic Valentine’s Ideas

14- Get a list of about 30 songs, some hip hop, some love songs, some oldies. Buy a couple aprons and her favorite liquor and make a pizza and hot wings together. You can get a recipe online or buy the dough already made. You avoid crowds and make a mess, good times.

13- Give her a bunch a money in a card when some heartfelt words. Women love money, they love words. The sex will be great and you can go out on the 15th when flowers are regular price again.

12- Hire a masseuse to come in and give you two a massage. They’re a lot cheaper than you think. Invest in some candles, some thick plush white towels and make a day of it.

11- Take her to a restaurant that you’ve never been to that you know will be packed but make reservations. Hold her hand, walking through the crowd and while everyone else is waiting you go straight to your seat. She’ll be beyond turned on.

10- Go the fun route, go to the gym and workout together, it’ll be empty. A lot of people get this idea that Valentine’s Day has to be romantic, sometimes it just has to be a good day.

9- Today marks a week before it’s Valentine’s, ask her to take a half a day next Friday and meet you at a hotel. Get some takeout, some wine and have hotel sex. I don’t know why but it just feels different. But remember to stop and get her some fancy soap. Women love fancy soap.

8- Role playing is underrated. Of course you have the sexy nurse and cat burglar type of roles but I’m talking something simpler. Showing up and pretending to be two strangers, letting the stories roll. You have to have an artistic personality and be creative but it could be fun with the right approach.

7- Just ask her what she’d like to do.

6- Write her a love letter for every special day you have shared. Maybe some of the days she doesn’t even remember. Like the first day you saw her, the first day you kissed her, the first day you made love to her. Write to her about a moment where you were having a horrible day and she saved you, made you smile. Give them to her while you’re driving and then drive far, let her read them in the passenger seat with music playing and memories spinning.

5- Take a trip. Tell her to pack a bag and you’ll be gone for three days. If she trust you and feels safe she’ll roll with it. Big is always great but a small road trip is good too. Don’t let money dictate how much fun you can have.

4- Slow dance at the top of a parking garage.

3- Take her shopping and let her model the clothes for you.

2- Send something to her office that she can share. Women love bragging even if they’re modest. Send cookies or cupcakes or food to her job, enough where she can share. Where all her co-workers can see. Let other people know she’s loved.

1- Kiss her a lot, cuddle on the couch, order Chinese, bit her thighs, lick her stomach. Enjoy the moment.

Will You Still Love Me In the Morning?

I put a lot of emphasis on the beauty of women, I love the female body and I can only imagine that most of the women I dated sort of feel like they have to be perfect or this certain image of beauty or I won’t love them. So I decided to not only write about sex tonight but to touch on breast cancer and what it must feel like to have a certain beauty your entire life and then worry that the man you love won’t love you because you’re battling this disease. I’m dedicating this to someone special, I put a piece of you in every woman I write about and I’ll dedicate my novel to you.

Demez F. White

Will You Still Love Me In The Morning…

“You don’t want to be here, just leave, I would rather you leave now than leave later.”

She used to hate clothes; as soon as she got home they were coming off. I’d never been around a woman that was so comfortable naked, it was my fault she was the way she was. I knew she was smart, I knew she loved jogging with our dog and good debates about meaningless topics. But I never complimented her on any of that.

“I love playing in your hair.”

“Your breasts are fucking perfect!”

“I swear I could lie on your ass all night.”

It wouldn’t be a stretch to say I worshipped her body, there was a piece of her in everything I wrote. In every book I wrote. The way I looked at her when she got out the shower or the way I would just sat on the edge of the tub and watched her bathe. I thanked God every night for giving me such a beautiful wife.

So why wouldn’t she feel like I didn’t want to be here anymore? The hair I used to play in, I used to wash for her when we went on our three day getaways and wasted our lives away in a hotel room. Making love and watching movies, eating greasy food, me writing, her reading.

The chemo took that perfect hair months ago, she’d trimmed it and cut ends here and there but since she could remember her hair was “her hair.” And now it was gone, she refused to wear wigs or try and hold onto the little that was left. Outside of our home she held her head high and accepted the compliments she got. But inside of these walls she wasn’t that woman.

“They pity me, they’re probably laughing! Where is that long curly hair now? The pretty girl with cancer! Why did I get this? You’re the one that drinks!!! I work out! I eat right! I don’t deserve this! I DON’T FUCKING DESERVE THIS!”

The doctors told her it would grow back after the chemo was over, that was the silver lining. It was the silver lining until they told her the breast had to go. She was strong, she cried but she didn’t break down. I could see it in her eyes though, she was defeated. No matter what I said or did she was defeated.

My baby was feminine, she was a woman through and through. Sexy lingerie everyday, pinks and greens, pretty hands and toes. She loved being sexy, she loved being pretty, her breasts were perky and soft. Nipples that she would play with and I would watch, nipples I couldn’t get enough of sucking on, taking pictures of.

I still wasn’t used to seeing her in a robe when it was just us two but she wore it all the time now. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed the back of her neck.

“You’re beautiful regardless! I could never see you any other way, I will never see you any other way!!!” She pushed me away and dropped her robe to the floor! She’d lost some weight but she was still drop dead gorgeous.

“LOOK AT THEM!!! LOOK AT THEM MEZ!!! TOMORROW THEY WILL BE ONE SHORT! HOW MANY NIGHTS HAVE YOU TOUCHED THEM, PLAYED WITH THEM! TOLD ME HOW PERFECT THEY WERE!!!? AND NOW YOU WANT ME TO BELIEVE YOU CAN STILL LOOK AT ME LIKE A WHOLE WOMAN WITH ONE FUCKING TIT!!!! FUCK YOU!!! YOU DON’T HAVE THIS SHIT! I DO! I DO! I do…. Fuck you….”

She fell to the ground screaming and crying, I fell down right beside her. She pushed me away every night, yelled at me every night. She wanted me to get mad at her, to hate her for the things she said to me. We knew each other better than we knew ourselves. She thought I would leave if she didn’t have these physical attributes I bragged about, I loved.

But she was wrong. I’d given the long speeches about me not going anywhere, I’d bought the gifts and cancelled book signings and interviews to sit at the hospital all day. I was threw talking, I was showing. I just hugged her and picked her up and took her to our bed.

“You don’t have to do this with me, you deserve a woman who’s whole, who can give you children one day. A son… You’re always talking about a son, this chemo has done things to my body! I may not ever have….”

I kissed her, not a soft kiss on the head or a lingering kiss on her cheeks. But a real kiss! Right now she needed to know she was still sexy to me, that she was still perfect to me! Our friends, our family, the doctors… Everyone handled her like she would break at any minute, they looked at her like she was a Susan G. Coleman spokesperson. But she was more than that to me, she was sensual, sexy, freaky!

I kissed her until she stopped crying and kissed me back! I kissed her until she stopped pushing me and wrapped her arms around me, until she started to rip at my shirt, until she started to scratch my back!

“I’m not going anywhere! I’m not going anywhere! I’m not going anywhere!”

I was talking and kissing, whispering in her ear how fine she was, how much I needed this pussy! How much I wanted to taste her! Cancer had taken more than just her health, it fucked with her confidence, her pride. In bed she was a vixen, she used her body like a soldier used a sword! Like a sculptor used a piece of clay! Without her hair, with how tired it made her, with how she threw up most days.

That sexiness was gone but I was going to bring it back tonight, if this was the last night she would have both of these. The last night we would have both of these I would make it count! I would make her love it! I licked a trail from her chin to her navel and then small kisses from her navel to the insides of her thigh.

“Promise me! Promise me you’re not going anywhere! That you’ll still look at me the way you look at me! I can’t do this alone!” Hearing the pain her voice brought tears to my eyes, hearing the fear in her voice made me wonder what kind of husband had I been?

Was I that materialistic? That concerned about her beauty that she thought I would forsake my vows because of it?! I kissed her clit and looked up.

“As long as that ring is on your finger, I would follow you to hell! I’m not going a damn place!” And with that I went back to her spot, two fingers inside, my left hand on the breast that would be gone tomorrow. Playing with it, rubbing it, caressing it! Letting it know it would be missed.

“Don’t stop baby! I love you! I love you sooo much! I can’t do this without you! Don’t leave me! You can’t ever leave me! Ahhhhhhh!!! AHHHHHH!!!!!!”

The more she talked, the harder I sucked, the harder I squeezed. I wanted her to forget about the surgery tomorrow, to forget about the six hour hospital trips every week, to forget about her Management Degrees that weren’t being used while she was in and out the hospital.

Tonight she would focus on my tongue, on my dick! Tonight I was going to grip her head and watch her suck me, watch her look up at me and smile because she knew I loved the way she held it, kissed it.

Coming up for air she grabbed my face and guided my mouth to her tit, “SUCK IT HARDER BABY! SUCK IT HARDER! SHE’S GOING TO MISS THOSE LIPS OF YOURS! LET HER KNOW YOU’LL MISS HER TOO!!!”

Sucking harder, squeezing… I found the inside of her, the chemo may have taken her hair and some of her spirit but it couldn’t take how wet she got. It couldn’t take the grip I felt when I put it inside, the warmth…

“Don’t make love to me tonight, fuck me like I won’t break! Like you used to before this happened! I’m not porcelain! Make me feel every bit of you tonight, take my mind off this shit daddy! Please! Please! MMMMMM…. MMMMMM!!!!! AHHHHHHH!!!!!”

I wasn’t even going to let her finish talking, the strokes got harder, my dick got harder! Her screams got louder, my old wife was coming back. The one that liked to talk shit and leave hickies.

“I want to lick my pussy juices off your dick baby, take it out and put it in my mouth! Hurry up!”

This was the woman I knew and loved, the woman that was the definition of a lady outside but in-between these sheets she was nasty and willing to do anything for us to reach that climax!

The next morning, us in the shower, both sore… Our stomachs growling but knowing we couldn’t eat. If she couldn’t eat, I wouldn’t eat.

“I’m ready to do this… If this will take the cancer away, I’m ready. I love you.”

“I’m not going anywhere, I love you too! Fuck cancer!”

She laughed and hugged me, I smiled and let the shower hide my tears.

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All I Want For Christmas…

fancy boxWatching her work the candy cane, in-between her lips, rubbing it from the edge of her breast to right below her belly button. I honestly didn’t know where she got the energy, we’d been to two parties and wrapped at least fifty gifts. Walking out the bedroom seeing her sitting on the edge of the kitchen table my mouth dropped.

Red lace bra and panties, red heels, red thigh high stockings and a Santa hat. One candy cane was in her hand and one was sitting between her legs. I leaned against the counter and took it all in.

“So it’s officially Christmas, do you want your gift now?

“Yes.”

She stood on top of the table and kicked everything on the floor. Wrapping paper, tape, it all went flying.

“Hit play for me.” Her iPod was hooked up to the dock in the kitchen. I pressed play.

“Come sit down and don’t move!”

Imma take this time to show you how much you mean to me
‘Cause you are all I need
No money can emphasize or describe the love that’s in between the lines
Boy look into my eyes
When I’m grinding on you, this is beyond sex
Boy I’m high on you, and if it’s real
Then you know how I feel
Rocking on you, babe, rocking, rocking, on you, babe
Swirling on you, babe,
In my mind all I can think about is a frame for our future
And the pictures of the past,
And a chance to make this love last, oh, oh

I once read that you learn something new every day. Well, today I was learning that my girlfriend must have been a stripper in a former life because she was standing on our kitchen table moving like I was throwing hundreds. Playing with the candy cane in her mouth.

She fell to her knees on the table and started grinding and moving like her body was connected to the rhythm. Never taking her eyes away from me, I squeezed the candy cane in my hand so hard it broke, she laughed and sat on the table. Her legs open and the peppermint tapping what was hiding inside her lace cheekies.

“You sure you want your Christmas gift now?” I smiled and shook my head yes.

“We’re going to play a little game, it’s called follow the leader. Wherever I put this candy cane you have to put your tongue there. And if you play the game right, wherever you put your tongue… you get to put your candy cane. And I promise I’ll only suck, no biting.”

Tonight I’m gonna dance for you, oh-oh
Tonight I’m gonna dance for you, oh-oh
Tonight I’m gonna put my body on your body
Boy I like it when you watch me, ah
Tonight it’s going down
I’ll be rocking on my babe, rocking, rocking on my babe,
I’ll be swirlin’ on my babe, swirlin’, swirlin’ on you babe
I’m gonna put my body on your body
Promise not to tell nobody
‘Cause it’s about to go down!

Watching her pull her panties to the side and slide the candy cane in all I could do was bite my lip and thank Santa Clause. This was going to be a great Christmas.