Pleasure Principle

I rarely ever do anything I don’t want to do. I live in my own world and blaze my own trail. I get judged a lot for this. I am the daughter that will suggest drinking mimosas for breakfast, wine with lunch, champagne with dinner, and encourage my mother to sex it up a little with her wardrobe. I am the auntie that buys my nieces miniature boots that look like my own over the knee ones and allow them to play in my hair when it’s straightened. When they see me they automatically ask for lip gloss. I am the mother that freely allows my sons to find and follow their own bliss without too many restrictions. I only command that they be respectful polite gentlemen, open doors, carry in heavy boxes/groceries, etc., try their best, omit the word ‘can’t’ from their vocabulary, and think for themselves. My boys think I am fun, bubbly, and sometimes mean. I can live with that. Because of my freeness, I have the desire to neither lead nor follow. I am content doing my own thing.


I was watching “This Christmas” with my mother the other night, and she said Sharon Leal’s character, Kelly, reminded her of me. She also says the same thing about Kim Kardashian. *rolls eyes* Anyway, there is a scene where Kelly meets a guy out at a bar with a few of her siblings. The guy is a former friend of her elder brother that she doesn’t technically know. She ended up leaving her siblings at the club and leaving with the guy. The next morning she tried sneaking into the family home with her boots in her hands after having spent the night with the guy from the bar. My mother said, “That would be you. You even dress like her and have that ‘I don’t care’ attitude. You would be trying to sneak in like no one would know where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing.” Her comment initially made me feel like a whore, but then I realized I am just bold enough to do what makes me happy.

My sister graduated last week. To celebrate we went out to dinner and later she decided she wanted to hit up a lounge. My honey caramel complexioned muse that I have recently started kicking it with was already at the lounge when we got there. He was bored and was only waiting there for me because I was close and wanted to see him. I introduced him to my sister; he said he was leaving but I was more than welcome to come along. For me, he was the better option. My sister was a little miffed I left her, but she was getting what she needed from sources other than me. She was in good hands surrounded by her husband and their married friends.

For that moment in time I knew being with Mr. HC Muse would make me happy. Not just because he’s 6’3, handsome, intelligent, and incredibly sexy. He had what I needed, wanted, and craved. I needed his attention and adoration of my gi-normous hair and imperfect body. The fact that he noticed and liked my attire and shoes was an added bonus. I needed to straddle his lap and lavish him with kisses. I live for affection, and he doesn’t seem to mind. I needed to feel wanted, to giggle, and to be free to freely allow him to bask in my femininity as I consumed and reveled in his gentlemanly masculinity. I craved his kisses, answers to my many unending random questions, his softness, warmth, easy going nature, and his ability to make me feel like a modern day damsel with his natural chivalrous acts of old.

He pulled out his camera and started taking random pictures of me while I continued to straddle his lap. I needed that, too. I needed everything he offered and agreed to that night simply because it made me happy. I have no regrets. I hope he got a strong dosage of his own kind of happiness as he indulged in me living out The Pleasure Principle.

I do not own the image used in this post

The Minds of Men

Sorry I left you without so much as a Dear John. I’ve been planning and strategizing the next moves I should make in my personal life along with writing here and there, tending to my not so wee ones, experimenting with my mane and matte lipsticks, trying my hand at sorta kinda dating, and well, just living. Anyhoo, I have a few male friends, and I find they are some of the most bluntly honest creations of God. As many similarities that exist among them there is an equal amount of differences as well in regards to hair, sex, recognition of freaks versus women that know how to freak, cunnilingus, sucking toes, blow jobs, and clothes. Yes, I pick their brains because as much as I love and adore men, I am not one. Let’s get into it, shall we?

On Freak-tastic-ness…I was alone with one of my pals, (*Lenny, age: mid 30s) and asked how he would feel if a woman blew him on the first date. I wanted to know if he would view her as a slut puppy or not. His response was, and I am paraphrasing here, “There is a difference between a freak and a woman that knows how to freak. If we’re out to dinner a movie or whatever and she just can’t keep her hands off me and keeps alluding to the fact that she wants to get down without me even having to try, I mean I don’t even have to kiss on her neck or anything, then I would label her a freak. That’s just how she gets down. I wouldn’t judge her, but she would be put on ‘that’ list. You know, the list you keep on standby for those nights when you’re bored and don’t have anything lined up.” Ladies, this list is akin to the ‘Break in Case of Emergency’ dick in a jar list. Some people love being on those lists, others, not so much. The second part of his answer was, “On the other hand, if we’re just vibing and the chemistry is right but I have to put in some effort in order to get her to ease some of her inhibitions and we end up doing what grown people do, then I would say she’s just a grown woman that knows what she wants and knows how to be a freak, but I assume this isn’t just commonplace for her. She won’t end up on ‘the list’ and could possibly be girlfriend potential.”

On Blowjobs, Toe Sucking, and Cunnilingus…I was out with three of them, and they were boring me with sports talk. If it isn’t about the Texans then I tune everything out. I am not a sports girl, per se, but I love my city. I rudely interrupted their conversation and asked if they sucked toes and why or why not.

*Tommy, age: early 30s: I do. Ain’t no thing. I’m a beast.

*Lenny: Nawl, I can’t get down with the toe sucking. That just ain’t my thing

*Marlon, age: older: No, I don’t.

I was surprised. For the most part these are very open-minded men that chop it up about everything under the sun. I naturally assumed toe sucking would be something they were game for. I then asked if they give face (Cunnilingus). I was certain they would all say yes. Needless to say, I was shocked!

*Tommy: Oh yeah. I’m a beast. I do it all, even break out the Halls (throat lozenges) on that.

*Lenny: Nawl. I mean, I gotta be on one to do that and I don’t be down there too long.

*Marlon: No. Y’alls generation just does stuff that was unheard of back in the day. Nobody did that kind of stuff when I was coming up.

*Tommy: They were doing it, y’all just didn’t know about it.

I had to agree with Tommy. People did it; they just didn’t vocalize it. I swear I was looking at Marlon and Lenny as if they were from another planet. In my head I was trying to figure out how they kept their women satisfied without, you know, putting their tongues in the honey pots. Not all women are into that, but the ones I know are far and few. Then we got on blowjobs. Well, those are unanimously appreciated around the table. So…they all want head, but not all are willing to give it in return. Selfish bastards. LOL. They even talked about how some (*Lenny) liked having the perineum licked while the other two not so much. To be fair, though, I know men that like to give but not receive.

On Clothes…They all agreed that they could appreciate the versatility of a woman that can switch up from pumps, pencil skirts, and suits to rocking sweats, Ts, and chucks effortlessly, and that confidence is key. *Lenny made a comment about some chick they all know. I don’t know her. He said she was ugly pretty or sometimes pretty. I can’t recall his exact wording. What he meant was some days she was a looker, and other days he would look at her sideways, like, damn, she ain’t that pretty today. I laughed so hard because men are just…men. They have opinions about things we would never think they thought about.

Of course my time with them would not be complete without them ragging on me. They called me spoiled simply because they were sitting at the bar and I politely asked if we could sit at a table. I just wanted to be able to see all their faces when we talked. I was also told that when I wasn’t dolled up I looked like an angry Black woman. What gives?! I always wanted an older brother growing up. Now I appreciate not having one. Men…gotta love ‘em

Love Begets Love

It was a balmy and rainy but refreshingly clear night in May. I drove over to his place, and he greeted me at the door. I walked in and took my shoes off as he closed the door behind me. He proceeded to gift me with one of those hugs that only he could give…sensual, gentle yet firm, and makes the receiver feel wanted and needed. With my shoes off he towered over me, so that made me feel as warm and secure as a baby in its mother’s womb. He pleasured my lips with a kiss that came standard with his hugs, which lingered for what seemed like lost moments in eternal bliss before softly kissing the side of my neck and ushering me over to his black leather couch.

I sat on the couch, and he sat on the floor between my legs facing away from me. I draped my toasted almond colored legs over his shoulders. He rubbed my legs and commented on how soft they were as I leaned over and hugged him, kissing his cheek before sitting back into a lazy upright position. My hands mindlessly caressed his head as we chatted about work, the weather, our children, and anything else that effortlessly came to us. I suggested we make love on his patio, but we eventually decided against it, as the neighbors would see us. At that moment he leaned back deeply, placing all of his weight between my thighs and lightly squeezed my calves. “This is what I need.” He said. “This is what I need to come home to after work. Peace, a beautiful woman, and sitting between soft thighs. It gets so hard out there traveling back and forth and coming home to nothing.” He grunted softly before squeezing my legs again, standing up, and leading me into his bedroom where he kindly removed my clothing, laid me down, and unselfishly and passionately made love to me, taking care to always be aware of me.

I tried to deny I loved this man, but it was to no avail because he reminded me of the simplicity of my past, power of my present, and the hopeful coolness and peacefulness of my future. With him I learned that it’s okay love someone else without it leading to marriage and that loving someone else as passionately and purely as you love yourself is not a crime. I ultimately learned to live in the moment and to not fight what I feel/felt. It’s what makes us human, and vulnerability is what makes us attractive. Never underestimate the powers of denial and familiarity. The harder you fight the feelings the stronger they become because, well, it’s a form of deceiving yourself. You can lie to anyone in the world, but never lie to yourself.

Yes, my heart still skips a beat and smiles when I see his face and my vagina weeps bittersweet tears in remembrance of being his lover, but I also know what I need now. I need friendship, intimacy, the freedom to be my dorky self, and someone that looks at me with pure smitten adoration that is always aware of me. I still love him even though our status is no longer ‘lovers,’ rather now it is that of ‘friends.’ He still calls me Claudine because I can never shut my brain off, and I call him Roop because he runs away when feelings get too real. I learned to love without losing myself, and he learned how to simply love. We were both teachers and students of love at the hands of each other. I happily walk away knowing I have his admitted love for me because love makes everything better, especially friendships. I said all that to say, stop being selfish with your love and trust God with your heart. Life is so much sweeter that way. The heart is never safe no matter how protective you are of it because it deceives even itself. Drop the superhero capes and bask in the rich simplicity of just being. Only God truly knows the heart anyway.

Secret Lover Never Loved

I take full responsibility for my heartbreak. You never asked me to love you, trust you, nor care about you. You never even asked me for a relationship, let alone my heart. Always the secret lover, but never loved. Body of a goddess, mind of a philosopher, heart of pure love, and spirit of a nurturing mother, but always the one left in the dark while lesser deities are flaunted in public. Maybe there’s a sign on my forehead that reads sucker for love with an amazing vagina, or maybe it reads will love for affection. I’m what you say you want. I’m strong and independent, but I never make you feel as though I don’t need you. I let you know you’re wanted and desired with every breath I take. Not just sexually, but in every way a woman can want a man. I have no hidden motives when it comes to you. You know this. I lay my vulnerabilities right there on the table. Showed my cards the moment I realized I loved you. I hold nothing back. Wait…maybe that’s the problem. Maybe I don’t play the game right because, well, I don’t play games. Maybe I should saddle up next to the whores and manipulators that can get men to buy them anything and cheat on good women for moments of freaked out pleasure. Maybe I should have been everything you say you hate in women…loud, obnoxious, angry, scene causing, crazy deranged bitch with a mean shoe game.


I'm not done with this piece yet, and I don't know where I'm going with it, but this is what I got off the top of my head. I am working on spoken word pieces.

35 Before 35 Bucket List

I'll be 31 in September. Shout out to my fellow Virgo-Libra cusp riders (the Cusp of Beauty, part Virgo, part Libra, fully beautiful). So...here is my bucket list of things to accomplish before I turn 35.

1. Go to Hawaii
2. Take culinary classes
3. Try Yoga (I actually tried this for the first time today! Loved it.)
4. Try Pilates
5. Wear a bikini (with a cover up of course)
6. Grow hair past my bra strap (Almost there!)
7. Cook scallops
8. Learn how to grill steak and ears of corn
9. Make a killer Sangria
10. Make love on a hotel balcony
11. Own another home, this time with no joint owner
12. Make love and smoke weed in Jamaica (I've never tried any illegal substance)
13. Learn how to roll and smoke a cigar
14. Take a ballet class
15. Learn how to pole dance
16. Take a wine pairing class
17. Try open mic poetry
18. Own a small clothing boutique with things I love (mostly dresses, baby Ts, and effortlessly sexy off-the-shoulder tops)
19. Send my eldest son off to college :-) (Well, I’ll be 36)
20. Do a charity walk (Breast cancer)
21. Host a party with the steak, scallops, and Sangria I learn how to make on the menu
22. Own a pair of black Louboutin Pigalle pumps (120mm)
23. Learn French
24. Perfect my Spanish
25. Laugh so hard I pee my pants a little
26. See a Cirque de Soleil show
27. Write a book on the art of being a lady
28. Learn how to salsa
29. Kiss in the rain
30. Visit Bora Bora
31. Wear a garter and stockings
32. Own a pair of 1 carat diamond earrings
33. Engage in light bondage
34. Praise dance one final time
35. Make love to a man I love that loves me in return

Yes, I am a simple woman. LOL

Sober Thoughts

• I am working on a novel. I don’t know how to classify it, but it touches on the dichotomy of being both human and a spirit being. It also brings to life the spirits we face of lust, sexual perversion, envy, greed, etc.
  




• I think having gone through a divorce has taught me how to think and act like a man in terms of being a survivor and go-getter, but I am still very feminine. I suppose I am a study of contradictions. It’s a cumbersome reality, but it’s my reality.
  




• Sometimes I wish I had a man around simply to rub cocoa butter on my back at night. I am pretty good at doing it myself, but it takes a bit of strategy and flexibility.
  




• My father worries about me not being married. I wish he wouldn’t worry about me so much, but it’s what parents do.
  




• I am convinced I was born in the wrong decade. LOL
  




• I’m an INTJ female. INTJ females are rare, comprising only approximately 1-3% of the world's population. I am moody, blunt, honest, deceptively cold and aloof, but I am also very protective of the people I love and would quietly go without to make sure they have.
  




• I don’t like weaknesses in myself or other people, but I accept them.
  




• I don’t respond to much of anything. I must analyze the situation to verify what I think and feel.
  




• Music soothes my soul. Beautiful things make me smile. Love calms me.
  




• There is something so surreal about knowing the voice of God.

No Means No

I’ve known him for a short while. Roughly 3 months, and we’ve gone out twice. Actually he’s the guy from the previous post, 4th of July guy. He has invited me over to his place numerous times and has also asked me to go to LA with him for a weekend convention. I have declined all offers because, well, I had no desire to visit him or fly away to LA with him. This past weekend I was bored and decided to take him up on his offer to visit him. He made plans to cook me dinner. We were to watch movies and eat dinner. No big deal. I felt it was the least I could do because I have been mean to him, even a little rude. Let me back up. The reason I was mean to him was because I had to postpone one of our dates. At the last minute the boys’ dad called and asked if we could swap weekends because he was working out of town and the job lasted longer than he expected. I had no qualms with that. Anyone that knows me knows my babies come first, and they get first dibs at my time, finances, and affections. Anyhoo, I called him to reschedule our date and he pitched a hissy fit. He kept asking if we could just meet for a midnight showing of a movie and whether or not my mom could watch the boys so I could rendezvous with him. Um, no. I am not meeting you at midnight, and I will not subject my mother to an impromptu babysitting session to appease you. Just respect the fact I am a mother first and accept my offer to reschedule. Had we had definite plans or tickets to something nonrefundable then I would have asked my mother, otherwise, no.

This brings me back to this past weekend. I accepted his offer to spend the evening with him. He had just gotten a new apartment and wanted to show it to me. I got there, took my shoes off, and followed him as he showed me around his place. He was watching some summer league basketball game, so I proceeded to tweet and text since it was apparent he was into his game rather than nag him about not paying attention to me. He kept asking, “Who are you texting?” That kinda shook me a little because I am not his woman. He finally changed the game and put on a movie. That’s where the harassment began. He kept groping and fondling me, my breasts, ass, and vagina. I am known for looking like walking sex, but this night I was dressed completely down. Button down oversized shirt, cami underneath, cropped leggings, and chucks. Even my hair was slicked back into a bun. I kept telling him to stop, but he was persistent, so much so that he kept pulling at my pants and panties. I didn’t panic. I am usually always calm, and I didn’t want to alarm him. He finally calmed down, and I left. I told him I would never go back to visit him because he was too aggressive and scared me. He replied by saying he was nothing but a gentleman by inviting me over, giving me a tour of his place, and cooking for me. He even said he was being a gentleman by removing my clothes. He also said he remembers me saying I like aggressive men and that he may have gone overboard, but he was trying to appease me and what I like. I was certain I never told him that. It’s no secret I love sensual yet authoritative men because I am a sensual woman by nature.

I reiterated that I would not be back to which he replied, “You have a huge ass. That’s appealing.” Um…he lost me. I’m not scarred from this incident, but it did remind me to always follow my first mind. I had never experienced anything like that in my life. I am accustomed to men being respectful of me and my wishes. Of course men are known to be a little more persistent than usual if they are aroused, but every man I have ever been with has stopped if I said stop. I think I felt really violated because I was not into this guy. Not excusing his behavior at all. Ladies, be careful. Men, when a woman says no, please respect that.