Imagine this:
You and the boo thang are chillin in the house. You head to the restroom, and when you head out he is standing in the hallway just staring at you. You walk towards him, to head back to the living room, and he wraps his strong arms around your waist, and lifts your big ass around him. Now, instinctively you wrap your legs around his waist and put your arms around his neck. He kisses you. And not just a peck. He really kisses you. Your heads do that tilt thing that everyone does when the kiss gets real intense. His tongue is searching for yours. Your hand reaches for his hair. One of his hands grips your ass. Now keep in mind he is still firmly holding ya thick ass in the middle of the hallway. No wall to lean against. Just holding you. As your tongues are reintroducing themselves, you feel his member coming to greet you. You feel your leggings getting wet. And right at the moment that you are expecting him to take you to a surface and lay you down, so he can lay it down he lets you slide gently down his body to the floor, then he proceeds to walk back to the couch like that didn't just happen.
You stand there. Baffled. "Nahh fuck that," you say to yourself as you walk back to the living room. He is sitting down with his laptop in his lap typing away. You pick up the laptop, sit it on the table and straddle him. You can still feel his soldier ready to salute. You wrap your arms around his neck again and bring your lips as close to his as possible without touching. You stare in his eyes. You dare him to not kiss back. To not reach his hand behind you and grab ya ass. And with the intensity of the moment and the clear desires written on both of your faces, and bodies, he wraps his arms around you again. He kisses you. Tongue coming straight at you. Grips your ass. You moan. The soldier is standing at attention now, waiting to be let out. Imagine that this nigga flips the two of you around so that now you are on the couch and he is on the floor between your legs. He removes your leggings and proceeds to go to town. He spreads your lips apart and his tongue finds your pearl. He flicks his tongue across your pearl, and at the same time slips two fingers inside of you. AHH! As his fingers continue their slow, but semi-rough assault on your little woman, his tongue continues to make love to you. Your juices are wetting up the couch. He is licking you. And sucking you. You can't be sure if he is making letters on your love box, or just going in circles, but all you can think about is the wonderful sensations. All you hear are your moans and the mac and cheese sound you are making below. You are so in the zone you are oblivious to the fact that he has removed his sweats and boxers. And before you can realize what is happening, he has lifted you up and stuck his member inside of you. AHH! He has his arms under your legs and gripping your ass. He is literally pulling you away from his body and bringing it back and with each thrust you let out a scream. He continues this as he walks you toward the wall. He places your back against the wall and begins to pound into you. With his hands still on your ass, he spreads your cheeks. His soldier digs in deeper. Going in further than you knew was possible. You cum. Hard. You tell him to put you down and you move him so he is leaning against the wall. You squat down and find his member with your mouth. As you begin to suck on him you begin to play with your pearl. You are allowing his soldier to enter in and out of your mouth as far back as it will go. You are sucking so hard that the sides of your cheeks have become concave. His head is leaning back and you are flickin the tip of your tongue across him. Then you stop. You stand up and walk to the couch and bend over it, propping one leg on the arm of the couch. He swaggas on over and sticks his member in. He grips your ass and starts to assault your little woman. Slow, deep thrusts into you. Hitting all of your walls. You moan. Loud. He quickens the pace. You cum. He digs deeper. You cum. At this point you are no longer really on the couch. With each thrust he pulls you into him. AHH! You cum together.
As he pulls his member out of you, he kisses the side of your face. "I love you" he tells you. He heads to the shower. As you watch that sexy specimen walk away, imagine he says follow him. . . . . . .
Saturday, April 9, 2016
Adventures of a College Educated Misfit - Part 38
On extroverts dating introverts:
Now, let me start this by saying that I define an extrovert as someone who can interact and socialize with anyone. A person who can walk into a room full of strangers and walk out with atleast 2 new friends. That person. The person that randomly walks up to you at a social gathering and says, "Hey, I'm Aubrey, what is your name?" Those are extroverts. Those people that do not get anxious about social situations, specifically ones where they do not know anyone, rather they thrive in them.
On the other hand, we have introverts. I think of them as people that would rather not be placed in situations where they have to interact with multiple people at once, particularly those they do not already know. They are the people that stick to themselves at social gatherings. Probably in a corner somewhere on their phone. I think a common misconception is that introverts do not talk, and that is not true. They just would rather only have to talk to two other people that they know, opposed to speaking with 5 people they do not know.
For the sake of this conversation/discussion/rant we are going to keep in mind the two definitions that I have laid out for you above.
Here is the dilemma:
Extrovert is dating an introvert. Extrovert wants to spend the holidays with the family and interact with the loved ones. Of course being that the extrovert is dating and in love, the extrovert wants the introvert to come along. Being an introvert, the introvert would rather stay home and let the extrovert do their thing alone. Being that the extrovert loves the introvert, the extrovert doesn't want to push the introvert to do things they don't want to do. Herein lies the problem: If the extrovert accepts that the introvert will never want to attend family events together, then a small part of the extrovert will be hurt, because now the extrovert has to go alone. So the extrovert has to either choose to not be with the introvert during times when that's where they really want to be, or choose to persuade the introvert to attend too. If the extrovert chooses to let it be and the introvert stays home then it is like the extrovert is always choosing the family over the relationship, even when clearly that isn't the case. If the extrovert chooses to not attend the events because the introvert doesn't want to go and the extrovert does not want to go without the introvert, then it is like the extrovert is choosing the relationship over the family, which is also not the case. Or the extrovert tries to persuade the introvert to attend the event, which then makes the extrovert in turn feel bad for guilting the introvert into things they know the introvert does not feel comfortable doing.
What do you do? How do you tackle this situation? Is it acceptable for the extrovert to expect the introvert to put themself in an uncomfortable situation because they love the extrovert? Is it okay for the extrovert to change their traditions to make the introvert more comfortable? Is there some foreseeable compromise that will appease both the introvert and the extrovert? #QTNA
Now, let me start this by saying that I define an extrovert as someone who can interact and socialize with anyone. A person who can walk into a room full of strangers and walk out with atleast 2 new friends. That person. The person that randomly walks up to you at a social gathering and says, "Hey, I'm Aubrey, what is your name?" Those are extroverts. Those people that do not get anxious about social situations, specifically ones where they do not know anyone, rather they thrive in them.
On the other hand, we have introverts. I think of them as people that would rather not be placed in situations where they have to interact with multiple people at once, particularly those they do not already know. They are the people that stick to themselves at social gatherings. Probably in a corner somewhere on their phone. I think a common misconception is that introverts do not talk, and that is not true. They just would rather only have to talk to two other people that they know, opposed to speaking with 5 people they do not know.
For the sake of this conversation/discussion/rant we are going to keep in mind the two definitions that I have laid out for you above.
Here is the dilemma:
Extrovert is dating an introvert. Extrovert wants to spend the holidays with the family and interact with the loved ones. Of course being that the extrovert is dating and in love, the extrovert wants the introvert to come along. Being an introvert, the introvert would rather stay home and let the extrovert do their thing alone. Being that the extrovert loves the introvert, the extrovert doesn't want to push the introvert to do things they don't want to do. Herein lies the problem: If the extrovert accepts that the introvert will never want to attend family events together, then a small part of the extrovert will be hurt, because now the extrovert has to go alone. So the extrovert has to either choose to not be with the introvert during times when that's where they really want to be, or choose to persuade the introvert to attend too. If the extrovert chooses to let it be and the introvert stays home then it is like the extrovert is always choosing the family over the relationship, even when clearly that isn't the case. If the extrovert chooses to not attend the events because the introvert doesn't want to go and the extrovert does not want to go without the introvert, then it is like the extrovert is choosing the relationship over the family, which is also not the case. Or the extrovert tries to persuade the introvert to attend the event, which then makes the extrovert in turn feel bad for guilting the introvert into things they know the introvert does not feel comfortable doing.
What do you do? How do you tackle this situation? Is it acceptable for the extrovert to expect the introvert to put themself in an uncomfortable situation because they love the extrovert? Is it okay for the extrovert to change their traditions to make the introvert more comfortable? Is there some foreseeable compromise that will appease both the introvert and the extrovert? #QTNA
Friday, April 1, 2016
Misfit Short -- Tale of a Single Mother
After over two years, my better judgement finally bested out my mother's guilt. I was ready. I dropped my son off at my sister's house for the night and went back home to prepare myself for the evening my friends had in store for me.
I stared in the mirror at myself for countless minutes. The stretch marks that patterned my stomach made me feel less attractive, although my thick ass has been covered in stretch marks for years. These marks were different, had special meaning. They marked me as other in the world of the young, wild and free to roam the night. Or so I thought.
After I got over myself and new found insecurities, I clothed myself simply as I had become recently accustomed. A simple wrap dress with plunging neckline draped my stretch mark covered frame. I swear I have to get over that. I wore simple wedges, as I had forgotten how to walk in heels. Light makeup and a bold lip. My new favorite way to express myself.
My friends took me to a club. A fucking club. I don't remember the last time I went to a club. I grew out of them in college. But they were chauffeuring me around and buying the drinks so I didn't complain. Occasionally my gaze would meet that of an attractive man and my friends would notice and try to nudge me on, but my confidence wasn't there yet. Hell, I could barely dance to my favorite songs the way my before baby self would.
That was until drink 5 set it. With tequila coursing thru my veins, I began to flirt with anything with a penis, or that I found remotely attractive. Sometime I was unaware of what I was doing, other times it was so blatant I shocked myself. One gentleman in particular found my flirty antics extra amusing and decided to chat me up a bit. He was tall, chocolate and awkward, like me, and fueled by that fire water.
I told him I had so much fun flirting with him that I didn't give a FUCK about his wedding ring. His mood dropped for a second and he spun his ring around his finger.
"I didn't realize I still had this on." he said, almost in a daze.
"Oh, you normally take it off before you go out trying to snag poontang?" I drunkingly said. I've seen Noah's Arc far too many times.
"It's nothing like that. My wife died, about six months ago." My face fell. I truly felt like an asshole. "My friends dragged me out and deserted me. I tried to tell them it was too soon."
"I'm sorry. My comments seem so insensitive now." I muttered genuinely, "At least I helped put a smile on your face." I said smiling before I touched his elbow and walked away. He grabbed me by the arm and snatched me back with such force that I got mad and panties got a little wet. "I don't know the last time a man grabbed me like that. Watch out there now..."
"You expect me to believe you have nobody touching on you?"
"First, I hate that weak ass "I know somebody touching/talking/fucking you" or whatever bullshit. Secondly, I don't give a fuck what you believe. I have no reason to lie to you."
"Fiesty, huh? So why haven't you been being touched?" He asked, playfully grabbing my elbow again.
"Well, I had a baby. And his daddy is, well, gone. I've busied myself with raising him. My friends said enough and made me come out tonight."
"Well, how old is he?"
"Two."
"Two? You kept your ass inside for two whole years?"
"Yup."
"Why?"
"Motherhood." And so on and so forth with one word questions and answers. We were intoxicated for the first time in a long time. Tolerance was on some bullshit.
"So what are your plans for the night" he said, blocking the monotony.
"Staying out as late as possible, drinking as much as I can tolerate, taking my drunk ass to Waffle House and then to enjoy an empty bed for the first time in a long time." I responded, not aware of where this was going.
"I like ratchet breakfast places. I'm tired of my empty bed though..." he said, leaving an open invitation. Just then, my best friends walked up and made themselves more acquainted with my new found friend, whose name I didn't know. I sipped my drink not paying attention to what my friends were saying. I didn't have time to worry about how they might embarrass me today. I've overcome enough new mommy obstacles for the day.
"Brandi, mind if Marcus joins us for breakfast?" This snapped me back to reality. What did I miss? What embarrassment was yet to come? What they hell were they up to?
"Not at all." I said gulping down what was left of my drink.
Breakfast was a fucking set up. My friends jetted on me just as soon as we walked in that bitch. Pet emergencies and being called into work last minute. Yea, you got called in at 4 am. Hmph.
We chuckled through breakfast and learned some oddities about each other. He was a social worker, I'm in the non profit sector. He and his wife wanted kids but it never happened. After that we tried to keep it light. Favorite colors and foods.
He grabbed the check as I fumbled awkwardly through my purse. I fully intended to contribute to the minor damage I did but...oh well. What comes next? I quickly remembered I had been abandoned by my friends carless and Marcus reminded me of how lonely his bed was.
When we walked through the door to his townhouse, our drunk minds and hands wasted no time stripping us down bare. The feel of someone else's mouth on mine triggered long lost memories of the wonderful world of SEX. I lusted and longed for the next time his tongue would invade my mouth, leaving traces of its warm moisture behind. Our hands roamed frantically across our naked frames, feeling body parts we had long forgotten existed. My curious hands tugged at his manhood, growing exponentially in each passing second. My body was long overdue for sex, but the length of time between my last session and the length of his member made me question if I was built for this.
Strong arms gripped my thighs and pulled them around an even stronger waist. My ass was dropped on the kitchen counter while Marcus browsed his cabinets for something to make the night more exciting. He returned with chocolate and caramel syrup and I made a run for it. Searching frantically for the bathroom, he found me and cornered me in the shower. My body was assaulted with the flowing of warm sticky liquids followed by a tongue lapping them up. I stood shivering in the tub, sticky and unsure of my next move. His lips returned to my mouth and I pushed him off and pinned him against the wall. Some of my sticky sweetness found its way to him thru contact and I left trails of my saliva behind as I licked it off, trailing down to the part of him I was most afraid of. I stared at it, eye to eye before venturing to touch it with my mouth. I tentatively teased the tip, coaxing myself to take more and more of him into my mouth. I soon found a familiar tongue twirling rhythm and stayed there until my son's potential siblings dripped down my chin.
Rising up, I cut the shower head on to wash the remainder of the syrup off of me. It made me feel too dirty. Joining me under the flow of warm water, our mouths met again and my legs found their new home around his waist. Cutting the water off, he dragged me out of the shower and wrapped us both in towels. He led me to his once lonely bed, where he dried my body and massaged it with the sweetest smelling oil. As he was massaging my backside, his hands dipped and ventured to a place that had long forgotten human touch. My bottom rose in anticipation of human contact giving him the perfect angle to explore me with his tongue. I tried to escape further and further up the bed until I was pinned at the headboard writhing in pleasure. I turned to meet his face and push him over. Instinctively, I jumped on top of him and began to grind. Slowly at first as my body became reacquainted with such and invasion, such a feeling. I rose up to my feet and began bouncing and popping all on him. I bounced and fell with such force that he pushed me off and climbed out the bed.
I braced myself for what came next. He returned, condom on, laid me on my back and began stroking me like he was buttering bread. Slow and deliberate. Deep and concentrated. My hips rose up to meet him and encourage him to move faster and faster. I struggled to keep up but did not falter. He pulled my bottom up off the bed and grabbed at it frantically before grabbing one handful of a side and swinging me over. On my hands and knees. I continued to meet each of his deliberate attacks on the softest part of me. I swung my head as if my tresses were long and touched my ass occasionally as a way to keep my head in the game. Make sure I maintained the syncopated beat, adding my own accents in all the right places. Both of us neared our place of explosion and could no longer hold our bodies up. We fell to the bed, on our sides. I swung one leg behind and over his hip, pulling his thigh between my legs. We slowly rubbed up against each other and kissed over my shoulder until we reached our highest point at almost synchronized times.
For the first time in six months Marcus didn't have to sleep alone, and for the first time in too many years I didn't care that I wasn't alone.
I stared in the mirror at myself for countless minutes. The stretch marks that patterned my stomach made me feel less attractive, although my thick ass has been covered in stretch marks for years. These marks were different, had special meaning. They marked me as other in the world of the young, wild and free to roam the night. Or so I thought.
After I got over myself and new found insecurities, I clothed myself simply as I had become recently accustomed. A simple wrap dress with plunging neckline draped my stretch mark covered frame. I swear I have to get over that. I wore simple wedges, as I had forgotten how to walk in heels. Light makeup and a bold lip. My new favorite way to express myself.
My friends took me to a club. A fucking club. I don't remember the last time I went to a club. I grew out of them in college. But they were chauffeuring me around and buying the drinks so I didn't complain. Occasionally my gaze would meet that of an attractive man and my friends would notice and try to nudge me on, but my confidence wasn't there yet. Hell, I could barely dance to my favorite songs the way my before baby self would.
That was until drink 5 set it. With tequila coursing thru my veins, I began to flirt with anything with a penis, or that I found remotely attractive. Sometime I was unaware of what I was doing, other times it was so blatant I shocked myself. One gentleman in particular found my flirty antics extra amusing and decided to chat me up a bit. He was tall, chocolate and awkward, like me, and fueled by that fire water.
I told him I had so much fun flirting with him that I didn't give a FUCK about his wedding ring. His mood dropped for a second and he spun his ring around his finger.
"I didn't realize I still had this on." he said, almost in a daze.
"Oh, you normally take it off before you go out trying to snag poontang?" I drunkingly said. I've seen Noah's Arc far too many times.
"It's nothing like that. My wife died, about six months ago." My face fell. I truly felt like an asshole. "My friends dragged me out and deserted me. I tried to tell them it was too soon."
"I'm sorry. My comments seem so insensitive now." I muttered genuinely, "At least I helped put a smile on your face." I said smiling before I touched his elbow and walked away. He grabbed me by the arm and snatched me back with such force that I got mad and panties got a little wet. "I don't know the last time a man grabbed me like that. Watch out there now..."
"You expect me to believe you have nobody touching on you?"
"First, I hate that weak ass "I know somebody touching/talking/fucking you" or whatever bullshit. Secondly, I don't give a fuck what you believe. I have no reason to lie to you."
"Fiesty, huh? So why haven't you been being touched?" He asked, playfully grabbing my elbow again.
"Well, I had a baby. And his daddy is, well, gone. I've busied myself with raising him. My friends said enough and made me come out tonight."
"Well, how old is he?"
"Two."
"Two? You kept your ass inside for two whole years?"
"Yup."
"Why?"
"Motherhood." And so on and so forth with one word questions and answers. We were intoxicated for the first time in a long time. Tolerance was on some bullshit.
"So what are your plans for the night" he said, blocking the monotony.
"Staying out as late as possible, drinking as much as I can tolerate, taking my drunk ass to Waffle House and then to enjoy an empty bed for the first time in a long time." I responded, not aware of where this was going.
"I like ratchet breakfast places. I'm tired of my empty bed though..." he said, leaving an open invitation. Just then, my best friends walked up and made themselves more acquainted with my new found friend, whose name I didn't know. I sipped my drink not paying attention to what my friends were saying. I didn't have time to worry about how they might embarrass me today. I've overcome enough new mommy obstacles for the day.
"Brandi, mind if Marcus joins us for breakfast?" This snapped me back to reality. What did I miss? What embarrassment was yet to come? What they hell were they up to?
"Not at all." I said gulping down what was left of my drink.
Breakfast was a fucking set up. My friends jetted on me just as soon as we walked in that bitch. Pet emergencies and being called into work last minute. Yea, you got called in at 4 am. Hmph.
We chuckled through breakfast and learned some oddities about each other. He was a social worker, I'm in the non profit sector. He and his wife wanted kids but it never happened. After that we tried to keep it light. Favorite colors and foods.
He grabbed the check as I fumbled awkwardly through my purse. I fully intended to contribute to the minor damage I did but...oh well. What comes next? I quickly remembered I had been abandoned by my friends carless and Marcus reminded me of how lonely his bed was.
When we walked through the door to his townhouse, our drunk minds and hands wasted no time stripping us down bare. The feel of someone else's mouth on mine triggered long lost memories of the wonderful world of SEX. I lusted and longed for the next time his tongue would invade my mouth, leaving traces of its warm moisture behind. Our hands roamed frantically across our naked frames, feeling body parts we had long forgotten existed. My curious hands tugged at his manhood, growing exponentially in each passing second. My body was long overdue for sex, but the length of time between my last session and the length of his member made me question if I was built for this.
Strong arms gripped my thighs and pulled them around an even stronger waist. My ass was dropped on the kitchen counter while Marcus browsed his cabinets for something to make the night more exciting. He returned with chocolate and caramel syrup and I made a run for it. Searching frantically for the bathroom, he found me and cornered me in the shower. My body was assaulted with the flowing of warm sticky liquids followed by a tongue lapping them up. I stood shivering in the tub, sticky and unsure of my next move. His lips returned to my mouth and I pushed him off and pinned him against the wall. Some of my sticky sweetness found its way to him thru contact and I left trails of my saliva behind as I licked it off, trailing down to the part of him I was most afraid of. I stared at it, eye to eye before venturing to touch it with my mouth. I tentatively teased the tip, coaxing myself to take more and more of him into my mouth. I soon found a familiar tongue twirling rhythm and stayed there until my son's potential siblings dripped down my chin.
Rising up, I cut the shower head on to wash the remainder of the syrup off of me. It made me feel too dirty. Joining me under the flow of warm water, our mouths met again and my legs found their new home around his waist. Cutting the water off, he dragged me out of the shower and wrapped us both in towels. He led me to his once lonely bed, where he dried my body and massaged it with the sweetest smelling oil. As he was massaging my backside, his hands dipped and ventured to a place that had long forgotten human touch. My bottom rose in anticipation of human contact giving him the perfect angle to explore me with his tongue. I tried to escape further and further up the bed until I was pinned at the headboard writhing in pleasure. I turned to meet his face and push him over. Instinctively, I jumped on top of him and began to grind. Slowly at first as my body became reacquainted with such and invasion, such a feeling. I rose up to my feet and began bouncing and popping all on him. I bounced and fell with such force that he pushed me off and climbed out the bed.
I braced myself for what came next. He returned, condom on, laid me on my back and began stroking me like he was buttering bread. Slow and deliberate. Deep and concentrated. My hips rose up to meet him and encourage him to move faster and faster. I struggled to keep up but did not falter. He pulled my bottom up off the bed and grabbed at it frantically before grabbing one handful of a side and swinging me over. On my hands and knees. I continued to meet each of his deliberate attacks on the softest part of me. I swung my head as if my tresses were long and touched my ass occasionally as a way to keep my head in the game. Make sure I maintained the syncopated beat, adding my own accents in all the right places. Both of us neared our place of explosion and could no longer hold our bodies up. We fell to the bed, on our sides. I swung one leg behind and over his hip, pulling his thigh between my legs. We slowly rubbed up against each other and kissed over my shoulder until we reached our highest point at almost synchronized times.
For the first time in six months Marcus didn't have to sleep alone, and for the first time in too many years I didn't care that I wasn't alone.
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