Why Can’t Your Man Do It? Friendships Change When You’re In A Relationship; As They Should

IMG_0701 Why Can’t Your Man Do It? Friendships Change When You’re In A Relationship; As They Should

It’s a valid question. “Why can’t your man do it? It may seem awkward coming from a man you’ve been friends with for years but it’s a legit question. You need your inspection sticker, you need your car washed, you need a ride to the airport at 5am? The guy you could have called at any time to be there for you is now asking you, “Why can’t your man do it?” You look at the phone like, “You’ve done it a million times before, I didn’t think I needed to give you an explanation.”

If you’re over 25 reading this you’ve been at the point in your life where you were single and you have that seriously cool friend of the opposite sex. You want to go to LA for your birthday, you call your friend. There’s no awkward “we almost kissed moments.” There’s no, “I know we’re just friends but…” It’s strictly platonic and you two just genuinely like each other’s company. Concerts, lunch’s, 2am conversations about life and disappointments and dreams that don’t end with you asking them “So what are you wearing right now?”

Men aren’t selfish or territorial; don’t mistake your guy friend that no longer wants to be there for being any of those things. Men are just logical. Somewhere in the picture there’s a guy she’s cooking for, smiling for, kissing, getting jealous over. That’s the man that should be doing the things he used to do and he’s right.

Relationships are inherently selfish. You start to blow off friends and family you’ve spent years with because you fall in love. You stop wanting to go to happy hours with your friends and go to happy hour with your man or woman. A “Hungover” type night in Vegas with your people gets replaced with some Bed and Breakfast in Rhode Island or North Carolina you saw on Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives on Food Network. It isn’t personal, it isn’t you acting funny, it’s just the evolution of life. So if you’re doing all this, when you have a problem, your man should be the one you go to. Your man should be the one that is your shoulder to cry on. He should be the one that helps you when the bank freezes your account because of suspicious behavior. Don’t be mad at your guy friend for telling you that. Respect the fact he gets that your priorities have changed and he just wants you to be with a man that can take care of you.

Touch It For Me Now… (Explicit Content)

dress-naked.jpg “I was bored at work today so I put my finger inside to see how tight it was, I think these kegals have been working.” I could tell she was whispering, she liked talking like this when there were people around. I could hear them talking in the background.

“I was sitting at my desk and I know you were out of town two weeks ago and last week mother nature was visiting, I’m feigning over here.”
Her voice wasn’t calm anymore, I’m sure to anyone watching they couldn’t tell the difference but I could. It was a subtle shift in her tone.

“What if I told you I want you to touch your pussy for me right now.” She laughed, she laughed because she wanted to talk shit back but she knew that I knew she couldn’t. To every one in that room she’d probably never said a curse word in her life. If only they knew her mouth like I did.

“I’d tell you that my current situation doesn’t allow me access to those files at the moment but I can get them to you shortly.”

“Touch it right now!”

Now it was time for my tone to change. I wasn’t laughing or playing. Standing up and closing my office door I listened to her breathe.

“Those files are locked up tight; you’re being unreasonable. Give me some time.”

Knowing what she was thinking, knowing she was wet was making this serious for me. Two weeks was a long time for us. We were both about to explode.

“Right now I’m unbuttoning your blouse and biting your nipples through your bra. I’m going to suck them but I like doing this first because I know how much you want me to pull them out. Leave your heels on, leave your skirt on, I’m going to have you step out your panties and I’ll put them in my pocket for safe keeping.”

I paused so that she would do what I knew she would do.

“Please keep going sir, I’m listening.theres still time before my meeting starts.”

“Eating pussy is an art. Rubbing your clit with my thumb, watching you watch how wet you sound. It’s warm, tight like you said it was. Performing on you is like kissing you. It starts with just my lips and then I use my tongue. The more you moan, the more you move your hips, the more you play in my hair; the harder I suck. You jump when I slide a third finger in your ass but you don’t stop me. One for the clit, one for your pussy and one for your ass. Not too deep but deep enough for you to cum. Would you like to sit on my face?”

“I’m touching the file right now. I found a way to get a quick look at it. I’d like to do more but I just can’t get full access at the moment.”

Feeling how hard I was, thinking about her in that conference room trying her best not to get caught touching herself under the table.

“All I’ve been thinking about is cumming in you. I love how nasty you get when you’re riding me. How in control you are. My dick fits inside of you like a glove. What you’re touching right now, that heat you feel on your finger tips. It’s mines. I want you to climb off my dick and taste how you taste. I want to watch you suck your juices off what’s yours.

Click… I put the phone down knowing she couldn’t take it anymore. My phone vibrated with a text seconds later.

“I’m going to fuck the shit out of you when I get out of this damn meeting! Leave work now and go get what we need for the weekend because neither of us are leaving your house until Monday morning! It is yours by the way!”

Two Word Stories… Her Lips to My Soul

imagesCA4RUXG1Hold Me– Fresh out the shower, skin moist, towel wrapped around her petite frame. Sitting in my lap, her head in the crook of my neck, “Hold me,” are the two words that come from her lips. She’s shivering but the heat is on, she has goosbumps on her skin but her body is warm. Hold me means more than hold me, it’s a two word story that means protect me, that means keep me calm. Hold me is I don’t want you inside of me tonight; I just need us to connect tonight. Hold me is the most calming of the two word stories because it’s the most sincere.

Touch It- The lights red, the dinner was good, the concert was great, the company was even better. I can look in her eyes and tell she’s tipsy, I can look at her dress and tell she’s feeling sexy. Accelerating onto the highway, seventy miles an hour going south I can see her raise up off the seat. I feel the panties land in my lap, purple lace on my thigh. “Touch it,” she demands more than she asks. Taking off her seatbelt, raising up the consul, sliding over I can hear her body responding to my touch. My hand on her knee, my fingers tracing pelvis, touching everywhere but where she wants. “Touch it,” her voice grows more demanding. I go faster. “Touch it,” is the nastiest of the two word stories. It’s the beginning to the story, the starter to the ignition. “Touch it,” means I want you to do more than just touch it but for now…

Marry Me- Watching her barefoot on the hardwood floor, red panties and a white tank top. Dancing to the music, grilled salmon on the stove because she says I eat too much fried stuff. The dishwater steaming because she says her mother didn’t raise her to use a dishwasher. Perfect shape, French tips on her fingers but always a bold color on her feet; today it’s a Tiffany’s blue. Hair in a bun, lip gloss the only makeup she wears on days when we’re being lazy. Watching her be perfect without even trying to be perfect, her lotion and candles flowery and sweet replacing the smell of pine soil and pledge in my bachelor bad. In my mind I’ve thought of a hundred elaborate proposals. Everything from Italy in the winter to Napa in the spring. In front of our families at Christmas or in front of our friends at my next book signing. But watching her I know in my heart that no moment will be more perfect than right now because the coolest two word stories can’t be scripted, when you know… you just know. “Marry me…”  The ring box sitting in a crock pot on the counter because I know she’s too impatient to ever cook with it. Her smile bright, her eyes watery, her lips soft. Her answer is yes because this two word story can’t help but have a happy ending or I should say beginning.

What I Need…

Bite me.

When I walk through the door don’t talk, just kiss me.

Your lips, tongue, teeth, breath pressed against my neck.

My hands roaming your back, your ass, your ribs.

Pulling at your shirt, needing to feel the heat of your skin on my hands.

The biting is enough to hurt, but it hurts in such a good way.

I bite you back and you shiver, your nipples harden and the desire for your shorts to come off intensifies.

 

Kiss me.

Kiss me on my chest when I take off my shirt.

Let me feel the wetness of your tongue on my stomach when you fall to your knees.

Grab my hand and let me fingers feel the warmth of what’s inside.

Inside of your panties, your soul, your heart.

I want to feel it all.

I want to feel it all through your kiss.

We need to cum together from that kiss, from our kiss.

 

Dance with me.  

No music playing.

No band in the background.

Just me with my pants unzipped, my belt undone.

You with your bra on the floor, your shorts on the couch, your shirt on the TV.

Just your body pressed against mine in your panties, needing me to hold you.

Wanting me to hold you.

The intensity in us never wanting to let each other go.

Your heat, warmth, wetness giving me strength.

 

Kissing you.

Picking you up and sitting you on the arm of the couch.

Hearing your moan, your giggle from my lips on your thighs.

From my lips on your calves.

From my lips embracing your areola.

Pleasuring you arouses me to no end.

Knowing me being inside of you gives you life gives me life.

 

Bite Me

Kiss Me.

Dance With Me.

Want Me.

These are the morning thoughts of Demez F. White….