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.

She’s Overdressed If She’s Wearing Underwear…

handsI was sitting at my computer and I started to write a fictional story for the blog tonight but then as I was thinking what I wanted to write it hit me…

I don’t want to write about something that’s not real tonight. I want to write about the basis for the erotica that I do write about. And that’s sexy women.

Sitting here, I can’t remember the last time I had sex, it’s been awhile. I sort of made a promise to myself that the next time it happened it would mean something. There would be no regrets or sneaking out while she’s sleep. No worrying about STD’s or Pregnancies or faulty condoms. “The next time I have sex it will be with a woman I can see myself waking up to everyday hereafter.” I meant that and it wouldn’t hurt if it was a woman that understood the value of leaving her panties at home every now and again. I write about sex so much because I love it, I love sexual women and all the flirting and innuendo that leads to memorial nights and mornings. I’m about that life when that life finds me.

It’s sort of like when you’re having a good text session.

Where are we going tonight? What should I wear?

I’m a man that likes fashion, I could tell her where we’re going and what most of the women are going to be dressed like but that’s waaaaay to easy. I’d rather just say…

You’ll look good in anything, just make sure you aren’t wearing panties. It’s a casual spot fyi.

Some women will ignore the fact that you asked them not to wear panties. Some will give you one of those token lol’s that they give everyone. But the ones that you want, the one that you can’t wait to flirt with all night says something like…

I wasn’t planning on wearing them anyway.

That’s when you get excited. It doesn’t mean you’ll have sex with her that night. It doesn’t even mean you’ll see whether or not she’s wearing panties. It’s just the idea that she’s flirty and sexy enough to play the game with you. I often run across two sorts of women, the goofy and silly ones that seem to laugh at everything and the serious ones that wear you down. It’s not often you meet the ones that just know what to say at the right time to turn you on.

Anyway, I’m almost out of Crown so I’m going to make a trip to someone’s restaurant and finish watching this game and have a couple drinks. You ladies that are going to forget the underwear at home tonight or in the morning.

We appreciate you!

Why Men Love Sex Appeal…

MEN LOVE SEX APPEAL!!!!!

MEN HATE BIG PANTIES!!!

I’ll start the premise of my blog with those two thoughts.

Now let me be honest for a second, I was in a relationship for eight years with a woman I loved very much. She was a really good person, a sweet soul but our sex life sucked. It could have been me, I could be horrible in bed and a bad kisser. I doubt it but you never know…

There was months at a time where there was nothing, no kissing, no touching, no dresses with panties in the purse. And I stayed in there because I felt and still feel like good women don’t grow on trees. But now that I’ve been removed from her from awhile I know with all my heart I can never do that again.

I’m sure most men love sex, we’re men. But I LOVE SEX AND SEX APPEAL!!!

It motivates me to not only write but to write the sort of writing that turns people on mentally. I need to be around a woman that knows she’s fine and knows I want her every time I talk to her or see her. I need the text that say “I’m not wearing panties today.” The calls that say, “I can’t wait until you come over tonight.”

No guy in his right mind expects a woman to be “ON” 24/7, they’ll be days and nights were panties won’t be pretty and conversations won’t be sexy. That’s what love is, that’s what relationships are. But that shouldn’t be the norm. The norm should be wanting to ignore every fine ass woman in my phone or on Facebook because the woman I’m with is everything I write about.

It’s not fair to compare one woman to the next, you don’t know what she’s been thru in life but any guy that tells you he doesn’t think about the woman that was down for whatever when he’s with a woman that’s not is lying.

At 29 I can’t imagine spending the next 50 years having sex once a week with a woman in big panties or old ass t-shirts. I have no children, I love life and love and lust. I need surprise masturbation sessions in the truck where I can barely drive because you’re going in on yourself. I need moments in the restaurant where we’re both drunk and saying incredibly inappropriate things. I’m about that life.

This message isn’t knocking women that love panties or clothes that do nothing for their figure. I’m sure there’s men out there that love that. This message is more so phrasing the women that love their body and what that said body does to men like me.

So in closing I’d just like to thank all the women that took extra attention to get well groomed, showered, pull out that perfect skirt and blouse. Sprayed that soft summer fragrance and picked out a perfect heel and decided to leave the panties at home or put on a pair that would make any man more than happy to take off today and meet her for lunch.

5 Ways Men Smile On A Wednesday…

I think it’s fraud to say women don’t do certain things anymore. The truth is you can’t help who you attract but you can help who you give your time to.

I know a lot of men that have women buying them things and tricking but those are the women they look for. Me personally, I don’t attract those sorts of women so it’s all good.

This mid-day blog isn’t a serious one at all. It’s just 5 things that put a smile on my face. 5 things I sort of miss, especially since it’s the first day of summer.

5: I miss you text, I can’t wait to see you text, I can’t wait to …. you text. Sounds simple enough but you get the point.

4: “What do you want for dinner” calls? I cook a lot but it’s nothing like having someone cook for you. Especially in too short shorts or panties. I don’t think I know a woman currently that knows what my favorite meal is.

3:”I’m having a bad day, you should write me something.” As much as I love writing it’s a perfect fit.

2: Silly fights. Not anything mean spirited but fights about what’s better. Salmon or Snapper. Who’s a better bad actor, etc…

1: Kisses. Kisses that are mutual and on time.

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.

 

No Regrets… Consenting Adults

“I can’t do this.” His hands were rubbing her back, his tongue was on the side of her neck. As much as she didn’t want to feel what she was feeling she was feeling it. As much as she wanted to be in control she was losing the battle for being in control and it scared her to death.

“Please don’t say no to be tonight.” He was frustrated, not with her but with the wall she had up. With the battle she was fighting with her body. He could see the goosbumps on her skin, her nipples poking through the thin fabric of her dress. He knew she wanted him just as badly as he wanted her but he didn’t know what was stopping her.

“What happens tonight will be between me and you Kortney. I promise.” She turned her back to him and took three steps forward, he took those same three steps forward, her body was his addiction. Her body was a magnet to his steel.

“You don’t understand baby, you don’t understand!” He pulled her close, tried pulling up her dress but her hands stopped his.

“Don’t fight this, don’t fight me! You know you want this, you know you need this!”

Her body was screaming, her clit was throbbing! There was no bra, no panties separating the thin material of the silk dress from her body. Every touch, every kiss, every word was vibrating through her body and landing on her libido. She tried to think about something else, tried to will herself to ask him to leave but in her heart she knew it was no longer her decision. She knew it was no longer in her control.

“If you do this, if you kiss me there and suck me there we go together. Do you understand that?! I’m not one for casual sex, I’m not one for enjoying the moment. Of course I want you inside of me, I’m as wet as I’ve ever been and I haven’t even touched myself yet. But I won’t be a one night stand, I won’t be a conquest.”

While he was taking her nipple in his mouth, her hands were between her legs. She was baring her soul, being honest and open but he was opening her up. He heard her but he didn’t hear her. He respected what she was saying but how could he focus on anything when she was so wet, so hot, so perfect.

“This isn’t a one night stand, we’re both consenting adults, we both want this. We both need this.” He fell to his knees and spread her legs, she wanted to protest, she wanted to kick him in the mouth and tell him to stop but the kisses on the insides of her thighs felt too good. His tongue on the back of her knee was making her drip. She regretted not wearing panties now, she regretted being so horny. Once his mouth found her spot, her perfection, she knew it was over. She knew all hell was about to break loose and that hell was her pleasure.

To be continued…