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Sex to Hold Me While Single

February 21, 2017

 

 

I step off the train and some weird ass song comes on my headset. It’s a woman belting out a weird sexy note. I keep walking toward Market and Spear Street in the direction of my eight to five, hoping I don’t need to let out my umbrella.

 

“Oh his dick way to long”

 

Bitch what? Now I am all ears. I flip open my phone case to see who I’m listening to and to also add them to my main playlist.

 

“Every single day, baby give me your best

Every single day, you be getting’ this neck”

 

Jhene Aiko’s new single Maniac.

 

Yea this the song for sure. I just recently came off of a 2 year celibacy hiatus (pretty sure that was too much of my business already). I don’t know if it was the celibacy or what, but I am frisky asf. Maybe I didn’t appreciate sex then as I do now? Whatever it may be, honey it’s too much, ok? One minute I’m processing expense reports and the next I’m thinking about some dark sexy Adonis naked hands all over me. By the way, I really appreciate my imagination.

 

I decided to be a lot more myself, real, and honest when it comes to my vlog and blog so excuse me when I say a couple of months ago, I had really great sex. The guy as an individual sucked, but his motion in the ocean rocked my boat so to speak. My fellow women know that we don’t come upon said motion in the ocean very often, we do, just not often. So when I told fuckboy to kick rocks after he displayed the epitome of fuckery, I felt myself wanting to renege on my executive order of exile every time I would want some. I would open my phone and scroll to his number, stare, and chant “damn damn damn”.

 

Being celibate for two years helped me with something indefinitely and that’s being alone and being okay with it. Celibacy helped me to talk to myself more and I don’t mean split personality talk to myself. I mean talk myself up, talk myself out, and talk myself in. I needed to talk myself up A LOT. I’m not giving the pussy up so all I have to win them over is my personality. Personality doesn’t win you much these days.  I had to talk myself into trying new things and I had to talk myself out of reverting to sex. I also got to know my body A LOT! Thinking up the freakiest sex scene and grabbing my Pink Buzzy Buzzer was my go to thing. I know its cheating, but it’s kind of not. Ladies, we can agree that there is no touch like the touch of man. But sometimes the touch of the men programmed in our iPhone is just not the right touch, or maybe it just feels right? But we know it’s wrong? Anyway, those lames can’t have the goods.

 

Listening to “Maniac” by Jhene Aiko’s freaky ass really helped me come to a self-realization. Lately I have been on freak mode. But ok, how can I keep my legs closed though? By understanding that I can literally have any man I want, in my head. I can think him up, make him say the right words, make him look the right kind of delicious, and touch all the right places. This sounds bad and sad all in one, but is it really? Think about it: We date men we are attracted to, we hold tight to the pussy (something like 90days?) get to know him, give it up, and then realize it was wackity wack or he’s just not worth the headache as a whole. It all boils down to the fact that you just wasted good pussy on wack dick and you’re still single and to top it off, Pink Buzzy Buzzer and your handy work could have done it better.

 

I also realize that I don’t want to give up my singleness just to get freak nasty with someone. I also don’t want my body count up making me look like a serial killer. Celibacy helped me to be comfortable trying things out with myself because who’s kidding who? You won’t be comfortable trying things with your partner if you are not even comfortable trying things with your damn self. For example, Christians ass in 50 Shades Darker. If you heffas think I didn’t take my ass straight to Amazon.com and search for “Burmese Balls” you’re sleeping on me! When Mr. Gray inserted those ball things in her pussy, my eyes popped out of my head and my initial thought was “they’re real? Omg I thought I just fantasized about a toy like that!” I even sent a clip of the scene to a couple of potentials in my phone, needless to say their freak-o-meter was not as hot as mine. One Burmese balls order later and I’m feeling pretty single and liberated, I can insert the shits myself!

 

Fuckboy hit my phone, I take a look, I find I’m way less tempted than usual.

 

*Blast Jhene Aiko’s Maniac*

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