Let’s talk about D, huh?
Good D that is. 😉
Mind altering dick.
The kind of dick that makes you want to sing into it like a microphone.
Dick that sweats out your new blowout and you don’t even care.
Dick that overpowers your common sense and keeps you fucking with a man you should have blocked weeks ago.
Y’all know that dick I’m talking about.
Personality changing dick.
The one that have you looking for his ass in the daylight with a flashlight.
Dick that has you at work zoning out as you reminisce about its strokes the next day.
There are some blessed specimens walking this Earth with kryptonite swinging between their thighs.
God Bless You.
Fuck You as well.
Today, while speaking with a reverend about The Wait, he said to me “Didn’t you tell me you keep your emotions down there?” (This is not a paraphrase. Those were his exact words as we have this type of relationship.) And it’s true. I remain cool and collected when dating a guy until we have sex. We could have been going on dates, having great conversations, just enjoying the flow of things. No rush, no pressure.
Then good dick enters the picture.
Now, I’m panicking when he takes too long to text back, being faithful when the ninja ain’t even mine, refreshing his social media feeds every few minutes to find out where he is and if there are any females that need to be checked, pondering when the next Jumpmans are dropping so I can cop him a pair.
If a man throws my legs over his shoulders and drives deep enough to reach the Mariana Trench…if his mouth latches on until I’m shaking and pleading for relief…if he uses my body for breakfast…if my toes are curling and my head is thrown back and his strokes don’t let up…
…That motherfucker deserves all this crazy that I’m about to bring into his life.
There are women out there who claim they are able to have sex and not catch feelings. I am not one of those women and will not speak for such mythological creatures. If we have sex and I feel nothing for you subsequently, the sex was unimpressive. Woo, woo, woo. You didn’t reach GO, much less pass it. Bouncing on to the next one.
Good dick is elusive. It requires more than 6+ inches, a Quiet Storm playlist, and a bottle of Moscato. There must be intellectual stimulation. It takes hours of mental foreplay that causes shivers of anticipation for the first caress. It requires fingers strumming along a woman’s body with an expert but observant touch eliciting moans and gasps. It mandates a feeling that overwhelms when he first enters and she stretches to accommodate. It needs a man that tunes into her emotional and physical needs. There should be relentless strokes, infinite stamina, a powerful tongue. It results in an orgasm that forces the soul from the body.
Most men do not come equipped with such, so when a woman finds one, ain’t no mo’ friend, bih! Do you want a summer or a fall wedding? Should we get a Craftsmen or a Tudor style house? Suburbs or city limits? Red Lobster for dinner?
Do not expect me to maintain my cool when you’ve sexed my body into a new dimension. You curved my vagina to the route of your thrusts so just being your homegirl is no longer an option. No more “just kicking it.” Do not tell me to be chill when my body is demanding I take sdick leave to get to you. I don’t know what your head feels, but your dick is obviously in love with me.
All this crazy now belongs to you, bae. Grab that Magnum and follow me, you good dick slanging bastard.
Today’s Soundtrack – Raheem Devaughn – XXX (Fuck you at your door/ Fuck you on your floor/ Taste you on your dinner table/ Then fuck some more)