We stand in the kitchen drinking vodka and club soda out of large red plastic cups. We debate about current events and African politics. You are in full bullshit mode and I can see in your eyes that you are intimidated by me. I look you up and down and imagine your six pack under those clothes. Your cute face is what attracts me the most. Your dreadlocks perfectly frame your face held into place by a grey stylish beanie. You feel my sexual energy and notice I’m staring at you. You blush and continue to front about whatever point you are trying make. I feel amused and blessed by your presence. As I think, ‘you are fucking hot and I want to rip your clothes off right now’, we finish our drinks and leave to go to a local bar.
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He lays back sweat dripping down his chest. He inhales deeply, his eyes roll back into his head as he mutters under his breath, “You make the werewolf come out in me. That was amazing.” I lovingly hold him and kiss him thinking “oh, is that what that is called.” He gently holds me all night like a cocoon wrapped around a precious larva. I feel his loving energy all night long and he falls asleep with his arms wrapped around me.
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On our first date we had lunch at a beautiful outdoor Mexican cafe at a historic Spanish hotel in the center of the little town. I feel at peace listening to the water trickle in the center round marble fountain looking at the colorful flowers in large pots scattered around the tiled patio. Sun peeks through the ivy hanging from the wood planks above. I take my sweater off thinking, ‘wow, its one of those perfect California days where its not too hot or cold. I can’t even feel the temperature of the air on my skin.’ He’s a PHD student at the nearby university. He grew up in Mozambique in humble circumstances and now finds himself finishing a PHD at an elite American university specializing in the plants. He’s a horticulturalist. We have lunch and answer the standard questions one discusses on a first date. He’s cute with short dreadlocks randomly sprouting out each direction. He’s fit, slightly nerdy but seems physically perfect in every way – just my type.
When I grow up I want to be a dominatrix. I’ve always thought of sex as my superpower. Wouldn’t it be fun to tie men up and whip them for a living? The BBC’s Sherlock Holmes series is one of my favorite stories on TV and has an inspiring dominatrix character. Sherlock doesn’t have lust, love or relationships with woman. But one very intelligent woman catches his eye. She likes mind puzzles like him and solving mysteries. They have debates and he is impressed by her intellect. She could probably do anything but she chooses the art of seduction of powerful men. She figures out their deepest desire, gives it to them and then teases them with it.
Man with the Magic Hands
I always thought the best sex I would ever have would be in my 20’s or with my true love. But no, it was when I was in my mid-30’s with someone I hardly knew. In fact, when I tried to get to know him I realized we had nothing in common, he was a chauvinist and I didn’t really like who he was. However a few times a years I kept coming back for more because with him I had experienced the most intense orgasm I had ever experienced. It was a life-changing moment like the sky had parted and heaven shined down on me with a white light of ecstasy that left me speechless.
The Player’s Circle (Part 1)
In the dating world, there are two types of people. There are relationship types that only date one person at a time with the intention of seeking a relationship from the first date. Then there is the rest of us – the players. The players date multiple people at one time and are motivated by attraction rather than the idea of settling down. There are relationship people in this group, but they find themselves on the fringes of The Players Circle with one leg in because they are recovering from a broken heart or are in denial about what they want. Being a hopeless romantic in The Players Circle is always a challenge as I strive to control my emotions.
The Remedy (Part 2)
I sit in a comfortable rocking chair on my porch peering at the orange, red and peach colored roses and geraniums gently swaying in the breeze as a small humming bird kisses each flower with intent. I take pause noticing how beautiful the garden looks today and how fearless the humming bird seems to be coming so close to me. I think it seems he is looking at me… Can he feel my positive energy and knows I’m no threat? Then his name pops back into my mind.
I’m in Athens for a few days by myself waiting to start a group trip with a bunch of Americans island hopping. I’m curious about Athens and can’t imagine coming to Greece and not explore the birth place of democracy. However I wonder the streets at night wondering why I thought I could do this part of the trip alone. I eat in amazing open air cafes, explore raves at beach clubs and smoke shisha with Arabs. The shisha place is the only venue that has good hip hop. Despite my efforts to discover the soul of the city, I always end the night at a speakeasy style cocktail bar around the corner from my hotel in Plaka….the ancient center with a view of the Achropolis romantically lit up at night on a tall hill.