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.
As we walk back to your place at the end of the night, I notice how you took my mind off my broken heart for a moment. It’s been two months since it ended, and I still think of him every day. I convince myself daily not to message him, but I stay strong and refrain from making a fool of myself. It’s a struggle but you are a breath of fresh air and remind me there is hope. There are beautiful people out there that are worthy of my passion. I want to please you and make you happy. You excite me although I have no idea whether you like me. I know time will reveal the truth. I must be patient. In the meantime, I’m going to kiss you all over and caress you with healing hands filled with my love energy.
As he leans back from missionary position he spits on my chest and rubs his penis in between my breasts squeezing them together. He groans as he slides in between my full breasts. I look down and lick the tip. I slide closer and gently kiss it. Lightly lick it up and down….kiss….suck….worship it. I talk to it in my silky sensual voice and tell you how much I like him. I feel exhilarated by the look of awe and ecstasy in his eyes.
When I was younger, I used to love kissing. I was lucky in the beginning to have two long-term relationships back to back with good kissers. My true love and I used to caress each other’s tongues often. I could feel his love energy filling my body. A tingly feeling all over…adrenaline rush….then wetness flows. But he broke my heart, so I got married to the next person I met, which led to more heart break. The desire to kiss like that disappeared.
In the last five years of the single life, there has been very little kissing and occasionally when attempted, it was usually bad….sloppy…slobbery. There was something that I did discover that I didn’t know before I was single. I became more open to trying oral sex. I tended to sleep with very sexy men with penises that seemed perfect to me. I think I was just shy, intimidated and scared before. I think having a genuine love for penises helps. I don’t get women in media that say they are ugly like Samantha Bee. My favorite part of this new discovery is the power it can give a woman over a man. If you give a man the best head of his life, you will get in his head, you will be on his mind, and have power.
I reflect on New Years thinking about how life has changed. I think to myself, ‘When was the moment I started French kissing dicks instead of lips? Smh…well, at least I’m good at it and every woman should want to have that secret weapon in her pocket.” Maybe I will find someone I want to kiss on the lips again someday. By then, I will have perfected my love making craft and will use every talent to satisfy him.