Making Love Art (with audio)

I want to be a Def Poet, so that no one can hear

listen to the feelings my words evoke through your ears.

I want to be a Blind Poet, so that no one can see

Vision my story and take the Journey with me.

I don't want to write with a Pen...I'd rather paint with my mouth

Hills of Love and Valley's of Passion

Oceans of Pain... through many days of rain

Searching for my roots, leads me to...

 find knowledge to gain

See My experience leaves me inept to continue this story alone

I'm searching for the one I can call my own.

Come Paint with me Baby, we have a story to tell.

Mix my Blues with you Greens

Purple passions in between.

I wanna learn your stroke... you make such a beautiful scene.

Let's create our own colors; Break every rule

Color outside my lines baby, I'm asking you to!

Use ME as the canvas, I want to be your Muse

We can create our own Music, to make love to

RANSOM

I’m trapped in the shadows of my own neglect

Imprisoned by design, the rebellion of my mind

My heart beats… so… s l o w l y at times I’m afraid that it’s gone.

Lost in a place I’ve driven myself to.

Nothing seems the familiar yet everything’s the same.

WHERE THE FUCK AM I? And who gave me this name?

This face, these hands they all seem the same.

But something is not right…. No something has changed.

This is not the person I remember me to be.

It’s like I woke up and found that I had abandoned me.

So now I’m alone without even myself.

Like a thief came in the night, I wasn’t even there to protect myself.

Left a Ransom note in a language I can’t read.

Now I don’t even know what it takes to set myself free.

And it’s like its right there, so fucking close.

I can hear the music but I can’t make out the notes.   

You… hey you there do you read this language, can you set me free?

Or wait you.. You look like a hero; will you help me rescue me?

No somebody just find me a teacher; teach me this language you speak.

So I can learn the words to set myself free.

The Live Show

…… The lights are still on. I pass the exotic cigar to my left. She nervously accepts. As she inhales I can see her asking herself silently “what did I just get myself into?” She holds her breath almost as an attempt to stop time itself… maybe to build up her confidence. She then invites him into our session and he inhales with all of his might… in his eyes there is more. He looks nervous but the excitement shines through. His eyes tell all the erotic thoughts running through his mind…

There they sit on my bed … me in a chair less than 2 feet away. I have butterflies in my stomach; my palms are a bit sweaty. I’m slightly nervous… but not for the same reasons as them. I can’t help but smile as I think to myself “You really pulled it off!” I whisper to myself “I’m a Boss”. See these two have agreed to allow me to watch them engage in the carnal ravaging of each other. Yes, I am going to sit here in my chair and watch them have sex. (ooooooooooooh I’m a Freak…. Welp it is what it is) I figure porn is great right? So LIVE Porn as got to be better.

I step out for a moment; Allowing them some time to get comfortable. And I head to the kitchen to pour up some liquid courage for us all. When I return their body language lets me know that they have come to peace with the decision they’ve made.  I turn off the lights, sit down, take a sip of my drink and inhale my Herbal Tonic as I prepare for the show of a lifetime.

He lays her down and begins kissing down her body until he reaches her sweet spot. There he sets up camp. Ravaging her like a starving child. At first I can tell she’s afraid to moan or make any noise for that matter…. That soon changes. The subtle moans begin to escape her lips without her permission. Her body refuses to deny that it is in extreme pleasure. He almost spends so much time down there that I lose interest. Just before my attention span collapses he wraps up and plunges his manhood into her cavern. She yelps like a wounded animal. He begins giving her every inch of him all while staring at me. The sight of him emulating on her body what he wishes he could be doing to me nearly causes me to orgasm without a touch. I chuckle to myself. He’s been trying nearly a year to lay his pipe in my factory… but I have zero interest. He KNOWS this is the closest he will get … and he accepts this. He flips her over without warning and enters her from behind. I can hear his body slapping violently into hers. Her small frame is strained by the massiveness of him. He rides her from behind until he collapses in defeat… he is tired yet he does not climax. He asks for a drink and I oblige. The closer I get to the bed I can begin to smell the sex circling around them. She’s sprawled out panting as if she thinks each breath will be her last. He passes her the courage and as she catches her breath… I declare…. I think you should eat me out….

“Who” they ask in Unison? My reply is simple “You can take turns.”  He wants to be first. He lays down on the bed and motions me to mount his face. I do as instructed. I begin slowly riding his face like a calm wave. She arrives behind me and takes his manhood into her mouth, determined not to be left out.  His body spasms from the pleasure and his tongue goes into overdrive. Now I’m bucking as if riding a wild bull. I can hear his moans muffled between my legs. I realize he may be suffocating so I digress.  He rolls me over, gets up and enters her from behind… “Your turn” he commands. He stands by the bed, her on her knees on the bed… face in my sweet spot. He licks his lips as he watches her indulge in my candy. Connecting with her yet never taking his eyes off of me. I can tell she’s done this before, her technique impeccable. It is not long before a small orgasm erupts from my loins. That is enough for me. I politely get up and return to my chair… “Ya’ll can finish”

And Then There Were Three...

Forbidden fruit is always the sweetest….

The music is bumping. The air is so thick I can feel it caress my skin as I make my way through the crowded dance floor. Face after face twisted in its own form of wicked pleasure… All these people indulging themselves in their desires. Grinding their sexual frustrations out on whoever is willing to reciprocate. Clouding our judgments with the sweet intoxication of our varied flavors of liquid courage. When the lights go out and the speakers come on each patron gives their silent signature an inaudible acknowledgment that for the next few hours… in this place… your wildest dreams can come true… nearly anything is possible.

The phone rings. He requests my presence. He does not belong to me, but I am his. I submit to calling without hesitation. No questions needed aside from the address of our Rendezvous. I arrive at a hidden night club on such a quiet street to be in the Big City. The night is cool, slightly uncomfortable without a Jacket… but bearable. For once in my life, I’m early. So I make my way to the bar and start the night off with a shot of my old friend Senor Patron. As the tequila begins to warm my blood I look up and see him enter. Always such a presence when he walks into a room, everyone notices. But wait… who is this woman with him. If I were anyone else … looking at her frame I would have assumed she was me. She’s wearing sunglasses so I can’t make out her face. I make my way closer, she removes her glasses and her face becomes one that I am more than familiar with. He also does not belong to her… but she, much like me … is his.

We drink… we dance…. We drink…. We laugh…. We drink…

My Mr. Jones...

He pulls my face to his and kisses me… if I didn’t know better I would have thought he missed me. Then he turns to his left… and kisses her. For just a moment the world goes silent. “What the hell just happened?” Is all I can think. Did we talk about this? Did I somehow forget THIS portion of the directions? So I am faced with a simple decision… Am I down? I think to myself… What the hell … Carpe Diem”

We spend the rest of the night in varied 3person dance maneuvers… Tasting Ciroc off each others lips. We have officially occupied the Very Important People’s section of this club. Women are forgetting what their Mother’s taught them and shaking what they gave them for the ones we incautiously throw. Us Musketeers have found a corner and made our way to a Verbal game of twister, enjoying the combinations of sweet the 3 of us make.

The next thing I remember is being told to make my way to the car. Driver pulls the Benz up we hop in the back. Sleep takes over… I awake to find myself walking through the lobby of a hotel. Room doors are opened. Showers commence. I am the last to exit the shower… my erotic obsession with hot water delays me. I exit the bathroom to find them in the bed. She is straddling him, grabbing his back for dear life. Their lips beckon me to join the two of them in the bed… Lights are turned off… and then there were three.

Ramblings on the Power of Love

Do I believe in the power of Love? I find that I’m asking myself this often. I usually like to consider myself a hopeless Romantic. I believed that love could and would withstand anything. I felt that as long as you had love, nothing else mattered. I can remember saying “I’d live in a cardboard box with …..” As long as we have each other… we’re good. And for a while I truly felt that way. Now I realize how fucking stupid and unrealistic that sounds. Is it truly possible to love one person for the rest of your life? Do I have enough love left for that? When you go through a relationship that you really believe is going to last forever, and it ends. Something about that fucks you up mentally. The physical pain of having ones heartbroken is enough to send any sane person over the edge. There’s this moment when you can actually feel your heart cracking and your entire person is broken in half. NOBODDY wants to feel that shit twice. It changes the way you view relationships, love, sex… everything. In a way you’re forever tainted. Like the heart never fully heals and is no longer capable of giving or receiving the amount of love it once facilitated. I have to ask myself, do I want to love that hard again? Do I want to be open like that with another person?

Yeah…. I do. Having someone that close to you is one of the greatest connections two people can share. The mutual vulnerability builds trust. And a bond that neither of your share with any other person on Earth. The problem is, it’s very rare that you find that person that you vibe with that deeply. That person you can spend all day with doing nothing. And every day still be excited to see. We develop so many superficial relationships. Only letting people see what we want them to see. That we rarely allow people to get close enough to of us to meet the real us. It takes a lot to get to a level with a person where you allow them to truly see all that you are. The quirky things you don’t let anybody else see. The fears nobody else knows about. All those secret fantasies you’ve been too scared to share. Allowing someone else into that space leaves us wide open for attack. But I think that’s what adds to the thrill of it all.

But hey what do I know?  I’m just a girl recovering from her own heartbreak with a cracked Moral Compass…

Oh so Do I believe in the power of love? I’ll let you know when I decide. 

What These Bitches Want From a Nigga? (What @itsmscoco2u says)

Well I guess that depends on who you ask. As for me it depends on which day you ask me. I will admit to being one of those Women who really doesn’t know what she wants. I like to attribute my indecisiveness to being a Gemini. Helps me feel better about it. Part of me wants a Rich man with a Big Penis and a Monster tongue to travel around the world with Eating, Drinking, watching strippers and having sweaty sex in wild places. I want him to blow my mind, body and soul. I want to fuck on the beach, dine at the RITZ and bathe in Champagne. I want someone who can take me places even my imagination hasn’t dreamed up yet. Someone who brings all the naughty out of me. Rock my world….  Then take his ass right back home until I summon his presence again.

Another part of me wants a strong, loving, dependable Southern Man to come home to everyday. I want a man who makes me feel secure in giving all my love only to him. A man who takes out the garbage and mows the lawn on the little piece of property we saved up to buy. A man who’s idea of a night out consist of Drinking with his friends and playing poker. A man who forgets occasionally that he still has to date me, but never forgets my birthday or our anniversary. A man who loves his Mama and fears God. I want a Man who calls me on my bullshit and caresses away my pain. I want to come home to a man who knows how to fix the kitchen sink and is willing to clean out the gutters. A man who I can put a 3 piece suit on and the outside world would never guess his past. A man willing to love me despite mine…

So… to answer the Trillion Dollar question: What these Bitches want from a Nigga?

EVERYTHING!

brought to you by @itsmscoco2u 

What These Bitches Want From A Nigga? (what @RODRIGUEZ_TGC says)

The Trillion Dollar Question: 

"What these bitches want from a nigga?"

Answer: 

1. Money 2.Swag  3.Good Sex

End of article. 

It's that simple if your just strictly looking for a good time, but once you step into the relationship arena, oh boy things get a lot more complicated....things like love, understanding, commitment, caring all start coming into place, but don't think you can leave those other three points alone 1. Money 2. Swag 3. and good sex must remain. So how do you balance all of these without letting your ego get out of control, or on other side not go crazy? IDK ask Obama.  

My theory for guys is do not get into a relationship unless your money is right, cuz she can LOVE you, but if your money aint right, just LOVE is not going to make her stick around, it has to be a combination of both plus you have to be interesting aka swag. There are a lot more factors that are involved but I would need a book to write about those in depth.  If I'm wrong ladies please correct me.

BROUGHT TO YOU BUY @RODRIGUEZ_TGC

Waking at the Westin

*Stretches and yawns* I begin to adjust my eyes to the darkness. The first thing I realize… I have clearly drunk a lot the previous night. Wait is it morning? My vision begins to clear. By the looks of this room… I am definitely at the Westin. I’d recognize this room décor in the dark. Well this is either a good sign or a really bad sign. Waking up in a strange hotel? But hey…. At least it’s the Westin right? Am I alone? A voice from behind me whispers “Are you awake Baby?” Nope, clearly not alone.  I take a deep breath and roll over. Do my eyes deceive me? Am I lying next to the MAN himself? Visions of the previous night begin to hit me like a raging flood.

            A simple business conversation turns into “let’s go to happy hour”. That Happy Hour turns into “Go Home and get dressed, I’ll have my driver wait for you and bring you to the club” A few drinks in the club, relaxing in VIP. He’s no major clubber; he’d rather drink and watch everyone else act a fool. I’m with that plan. We attempt small talk over loud obnoxious music. This is no upscale lounge, we are in Hood City. Nevertheless we are determined to enjoy ourselves. And like a flash of lightning I see a shiny stripper pole beckoning my attention from my right peripheral. The desperate and disillusioned women in this club begin to shake and gyrate in hopes of getting… phone bill money… I suppose. Before I know it, I’m given a $100 bill and instructed to turn it into 100 singles. I am much obliged. I myself am quite a big fan of Women taking off their clothes for money and I have no problem helping “Chocolate Thunder” pay her metro bill. After visiting 4 different Bar Tenders I finally have made this 1 bill into 100 bills. I stuff the money into my bosom as make my way through the thickness of the crowd back to the safety of VIP.  After consuming one more drink he grabs my hand, leads me through what feels like hell for broke people and up to the stage where the stripper pole awaits our 1’s. One hand on my waist… the other continuing to hand me one dollar bills to rub up and down “Chocolate Thunder’s” ass. Keep in mind this is NOT A STRIP CLUB. But hey what do you expect when you have a stripper pole, Hennessy, Waka Flaka Music and a bunch of Horny men drunk and willing to spend all the little money they worked so hard for 2 weeks to get? The crowd is in an uproar. They are elated to see this little Woman (me) making it rain on the biggest ass any of them have probably ever seen in real life. A few of them get out of control and begin to grope MY ass…. Now it’s time TO GO!

We spend some time cuddled in a corner and finally decide leave. He beckons the driver and informs him it’s time to go. I’m instructed to find a hotel. *Siri, find the nearest Westin* 

                           ************ INSERT MEMORY LOSS*************

Yes! It is the MAN that I have awakened to. I peek under the covers. Not naked…. But definitely NOT full dressed. He wraps his arms around me and as I look down I spy a sparkle . I'm reminded of what I already surmised in the back of my mind. We talk about business for a while then its gets personal. Something is genuine in his admissions of his inability to resist me .  After further conversation it is made clear that we did NOT enter into horizontal polka during the night. The relief I felt is indescribable. 

Life As A Mistress (Right or Wrong)

Life as a Mistress (Right or Wrong) – A post written from the point of view of “the other woman” infidelity is always a relevant topic but we never really hear from the person who is being cheated with. How it started, why it started, why she continues. Perks , benefits pros and cons…. So on  and so on


I’m not sure what part of my stroll screams “HI I’m MORALLY CORRUPT” but apparently men all over the world feel as though they can share their infidelities with me.

HOW IT STARTED: I met a guy through a mutual business associate. We started out with a strictly business relationship but with time it evolved. We’d share our sexual exploits with one another and begin to plan a time when we would rendezvous together. I already knew he had other Women in his life, but I figured it was nothing serious for this Play Boy. 


I must admit I was attracted to his status and financial capabilities. It was nearly a year before we were even in the same city together. Once we were on… there was no turning us off. There were flights to different cities, various hotel rooms, clubs, dinners, drinks all ending in hot sweaty enjoyable sex. He took me places physically and sexually that I had only dreamed of.  For a Single Woman in her 20’s this was the life. 


I began to hear through the grapevine that he was engaged and eventually I heard he was expecting a child, BOTH of which he vehemently denied. So I continued our little affair, pretending to believe a lie. Eventually he admitted the Woman was indeed carrying his child and they shared a home together but assured me he had no plans on marrying her. He would tell me how much he always missed me when he was away from me and how I blew his mind sexually. And all of this turned me on! I loved the taboo in it all! It made life exciting. And best of all, left my heart fully protected. I had NO INTENTIONS on loving this man. I knew my roll and I was comfortable in it… I had become “the Mistress.” I was the Woman on his mind when he woke up and when he went to bed at night. I would send him sexy pictures knowing full well he was probably sitting at the table with his family… he liked it and I loved it. I was the thing that kept him sane.
 The ONE WOMAN in his life guaranteed to not increase his stress levels. That is a powerful position to hold in a man’s life. Not only am I the Pussy he wants but I’m the pussy that comes with no strings. We have developed the BEST MUTUALLY GRATIFYING relationship a Man and Woman can hope to have. I give him mind (and body) blowing sex. I make him feel young and sought after all over again. He provides a situation that allows me to travel, live comfortably all while building my career. Not to mention orgasm! Do I feel bad about it? Hell No. As far as I’m concerned I’m doing a public service. I keep him happy, sane and at home (when he’s not with me). His Wifey should send me a Christmas Card.  

When Did Dating Become So Complex?

I was having a chat with one of my best friends in the whole world today. We haven’t spoken in a few months; both of us have been so busy. My career is taking off and work keeps me busy all the time. She recently had her first child so she is acclimating herself to mother hood. After all of the catch up, we inevitably end up at the most discussed topic amongst women…. Our love lives.

We both came to the conclusion that the Dating Game is in a complete state of disaster right now; At least for people in our age group (25-35). Our first question was… Where the hell do I find someone to date? The club… clearly that’s not the best idea. Then you run into the problem of that being the place your significant other wants to be every weekend. Your job? That’s just a recipe for disaster (which deserves its own post)

So let’s say by some miracle of nature you find someone that you like and you guys begin the process. Now you run into the issue of, how often should we talk? If I call or text your everyday, does that make me thirsty? Do I want to hear from you every day? How much interest is too much? What do you want from me? Are you looking for a good fuck? Are you looking for a Wife? Somebody to help you take care of your bad ass kids? Or someone to talk to? I can’t figure out for the life of me why it is so difficult for people to just tell you want they want from the beginning. Why can’t I just say “I like you,” and that be enough? Why can’t we just be two people who enjoy each other’s company and grow from there? When did dating become so complex? Ask yourself when is the last time you’ve been on a date? A REAL DATE! The kind where the man picks you up or fellas you go pick the lady up. You go to dinner, enjoy a good meal and great conversation. Maybe a few drinks afterwards, trying to drag out your time because you don’t want the night to end. Then you have that goodnight kiss and GO HOME. None of that trying to get in bed on the first night, developing a mutual respect for one another. Falling in like with personality not just in lust with looks. Finding yourself excited to talk to them the next day and eager to see them again. Talking on the phone till the wee hours of the morning all the while knowing you have to wake up early , but you don’t care. Finding yourself smiling for no reason just at the thought of them. When is the last time you developed that type of connection with another person?

Why are we so obsessed with the superficial? Men just want to have sex with as many beautiful women with big asses as they can possibly stick their penis in. And women just want to find the richest most famous man around just to fuck him in hopes he’ll pay your phone bill and buy your little bebe kid some Jordan’s. How did we stray so far? What happened that we have removed our feelings and passion from life? When did we become so afraid of being hurt that we stopped trying? How have we learned so well to ignore the innate yearning we have to connect with another human being? Since when did pretending you are to cool to need someone else become… well… cool? When did Men stop chasing and when did Women stop being the hope full romantics we were created to be?

                                                                                                          

3/7/2011

At times we yearn to just feel close to somebody

We auction off our bodies to the highest bidder, in an attempt to feel wanted

We want so badly to connect with another being

To share ourselves

We long for the validation of some one else

Our inner truths scream "LOVE ME"

But we're ashamed of this

We hate ourselves for needing someone so badly

We despise our selves for not being able to give ourselves evertyhing we need

If we must depend on another for completion .... Can it ever be achieved?

Flavor #2 - The Sugar Daddy

Only the lucky girls find these. This guy is usually a considerable amount older than you. He’s the “I need my hair and nails done” guy. He has a great Career and a nice car. Most of the time divorced with kids’ right around your age. He feels old and you make him feel young again. And in return for that great service he pays some of your bills and kicks you cash when your need. The problem with the Sugar Daddy is that his shelf life is short, 9 out of 10 times you don’t want to have sex with him either. So this arrangement will only last so long before inevitably you have to give him some or go.

Flavor #1 - The Dater

I have this theory that most Single Gals need more than one man in their life. Think about it… how is it humanly possible for just one person to give you everything you need? Most men aren’t willing and out of those who are… their means, availability, intelligence or overall sex appeal prevent them from doing so. For the Single Gal, life is like a Baskin Robbins… 31 Flavors and you’re bound to find a few you like…

The DATER:

All Women should have one of these. This is the guy who makes weekend plans with you at the beginning of the week… not the day of. You go to dinner, the movies, live shows, etc… Now he’s usually not your typical “stud muffin”, but he’s not so dreadful that you can’t be seen in public with him. Most of your girls know about him…   but NO ONE in your family does. You enjoy his company, he makes your laugh and even makes your feel special. Problem is… he doesn’t make your panties wet.