A&P: Agitation and Pleasure.
I took the ring finger on my left hand and gently eased into my secret place.
Oooooh yeah, that's it. Wow, does that feels good.
It slips and slides and slightly tickles my fancy like nothing else ever before.
My chocolate brown eyes began rolling in the deepness of my psyche,
begging me to never stop pleasing my womanly needs.
As the tide rushes in like a tsunami and explodes on my satin sheets,
I instantly felt a twinge of pain and guilt arise.
Suddenly, one salty tear cascaded down my right cheek.
Then one on the left, with a full blown army soon following behind.
Yet another Thursday night with nothing but ten fingers and the naturalesque melodies of Break of Dawn playing in the background to fill an aching five year void.
The routine, albeit a great one, is just not cutting the mustard any longer.
I crave to have a man come into my sheltered world and completely blow my mind deep into the Atlantic Ocean, to remove the hole that my heart feels every night I spend cuddling my pillow, to provide my eyes with a perfectly crafted unforgettable masterpiece, waiting to claim its territory like it were a sly and devilish dogfox pouncing on its dinner of blackberries and mice like clockwork.
Inside the rigid exterior of a woman lies an innocent girl searching for an innocent boy with a few dirty tricks up his sleeve. Someone to not only penetrate my G-spot, but also my mind and soul. Someone who challenges me to be better every second of every minute of every hour of every day of every week of every month of every year for as long as God decided to keep me alive and kicking for. Someone who can laugh at my childish antics without care or regard. All I really want is my guy.
But, until he comes, back to settling for self-satisfaction and faking that the tears I cry and the pain I feel whilst pining for him is not real.
Oooooh yeah, that's it. Wow, does that feels good.
It slips and slides and slightly tickles my fancy like nothing else ever before.
My chocolate brown eyes began rolling in the deepness of my psyche,
begging me to never stop pleasing my womanly needs.
As the tide rushes in like a tsunami and explodes on my satin sheets,
I instantly felt a twinge of pain and guilt arise.
Suddenly, one salty tear cascaded down my right cheek.
Then one on the left, with a full blown army soon following behind.
Yet another Thursday night with nothing but ten fingers and the naturalesque melodies of Break of Dawn playing in the background to fill an aching five year void.
The routine, albeit a great one, is just not cutting the mustard any longer.
I crave to have a man come into my sheltered world and completely blow my mind deep into the Atlantic Ocean, to remove the hole that my heart feels every night I spend cuddling my pillow, to provide my eyes with a perfectly crafted unforgettable masterpiece, waiting to claim its territory like it were a sly and devilish dogfox pouncing on its dinner of blackberries and mice like clockwork.
Inside the rigid exterior of a woman lies an innocent girl searching for an innocent boy with a few dirty tricks up his sleeve. Someone to not only penetrate my G-spot, but also my mind and soul. Someone who challenges me to be better every second of every minute of every hour of every day of every week of every month of every year for as long as God decided to keep me alive and kicking for. Someone who can laugh at my childish antics without care or regard. All I really want is my guy.
But, until he comes, back to settling for self-satisfaction and faking that the tears I cry and the pain I feel whilst pining for him is not real.
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