Bittersweet Affair

Leave a comment

It started off simple, but quickly became complex.  Although my heart wanted more, I had to refrain from overindulgence.  A young man who would come in to my life and turn me upside down. Have me think left when I want to go right. Such a complex feeling; such a bittersweet affair.

The Morehouse logo on your hoodie makes my heart flutters ten thousand times.

“He’s educated!”

Our conversation gets deep when we want it to be.  You’re much more than the average PG County “Joe”.

Stroking my hair, down to my ego, it’s difficult to pass you up. I found myself wanting more.

I wanted more…

                                      I wanted more…

                                                                       I wanted more!

Each time you left, there was a stain on my soul.

Defeated in my pride, I’d be the first to call…but…no response.

With each empty second, I’d wonder…

Although it was but for a moment, loving you on the balcony was one of the fondest memories I’ve had in this often lonely space. But your silence reminds me that we are just “chillin” and I’m forced to back away.

The days go by and my mind is clouded with emotional highs and lows. So I weigh my options and yours in the process.

I ask myself, “Where’s this going?”

My answer, “I don’t know.” I know where I want it to go, but my focus was destined to be on our reality.

“If he wanted you, he’d make himself available to you.” I pause and sigh as I think of more logical reasons why it’s a bad idea for us to continue down this road of ecstasy. But wait! I don’t want loose this bond.  I’ve wanted it for years and now I must give it up? Damn you voice of reason!

Over and over I thought of the pros and cons. Sadly the thought of possibly hindering your motivation to become successful pushed me back farther.  The thought of becoming attached to a young man who has yet to reach his peak in the dating world made you untouchable.  All the while, my hands are extended to you – trying to hold on to whatever I can that is good.

“But he’s everything I’d want,” I argue. Finally tired of reasoning with me, logic slaps me in the face. “He still has a few years to catch up, besides you are the only one who wants more.”

That’s when I look at our situation and find that my hands can no longer reach you. We are too far apart in years and in life. And my hands fall to my side as my heart aches at the thought of the man you will be. Of the woman you will have and of the lifestyle you will create for yourself. It pains me even more to know that I might be a hindrance at this point since I’m talking something a bit more permanent, and you…well I doubt you even know the definition.

For now, I’m satisfied with being with you from afar. In my mind, I’ll keep you tucked away where we can meet and play and love on each other as much as we’d like. We might be on different sides of the hemisphere but I enjoy keeping you close in thought. For now anyway.

Misconception

1 Comment

Sitting on the living room floor, flipping through old photos, I realize that I could have learned to appreciate myself entirely.  What a shame that I was caught up in what society deemed beautiful.

My insecurities started when mom met George.  Soon after they started dating, mom introduced George to my twin sister, Sabrina, and me.  It didn’t take long for George to throw cheap compliments to my sister about her beauty.  He encouraged mom to enter Sabrina in beauty pageants for more money, but mom never budged. She didn’t want to give me a complex; but it was too late, George already planted the seed. With every compliment George handed, Sabrina murmured a quick “thank you.”  It was telling that she was nonchalant about the attention she received. I wonder if it was just as telling that I craved it. A fraternal twin, yes, but was I really that unattractive?

As for Sabrina, she didn’t know how ugly I felt standing next to her. When we went shopping together, guys approached her repeatedly.  Unfortunately Sabrina was never interested in them, so she’d motion them my way.  She didn’t realize how awkward it felt when they took one look at me and walked away. I could never muster up the courage to tell Sabrina how I felt. Even then, a part of me hoped that one day a guy would actually go for it and take a chance on me

Now don’t get me wrong, I love Sabrina, and she loves me too. I just found it difficult to see past her beauty since so many others honed in on it. 

One night while writing in my diary, I confessed to my imaginary world of admirers that one day I’d be prettier than Sabrina.  Convinced that my ugly skin was God’s curse, I became fixated on solving my problem. I became desolate in my interactions with others.  I stopped smiling, because I knew that my smile wouldn’t be as pretty as Sabrina’s. I didn’t even look at people when I spoke. I didn’t see the point in it. They knew that I was the ugly duckling in the room.  My life was spiraling downward and with each passing day I resented life.

By the age of 22, I was beyond envious of the attention Sabrina received.  I was trained to look at her with a more critical eye.  Everyone thought she was flawless, but I knew, oh so well, that she wasn’t.  When the cellulite started to appear on the back of her thighs, I was in the background silently rejoicing. Too bad I was the only one who had noticed.  When she stubbed her toe on the bottom ledge of the bookshelf, I was there to watch her peel the nail from the skin. So sad that the manicurist was able to replace it; making it appear normal again.

Eventually, I learn that all the faults and imperfections I knew about her didn’t really matter. I needed to find another avenue to outshine her if I were to be happy, too. 

 While searching the internet one day, I came across an advertisement offering beauty enhancements.  I skimmed through the long list of testimonials, and came across a woman’s story that was similar to mine. She developed the same ugly duck syndrome compared to her four older sisters. She claimed that the subtle beauty enhancements that she received gave her the self confidence she needed to finally get from under her sisters’ shadows.  I wondered if that would help with my insecurities.  I was gamed to find out!

 When I arrived for my consultation, I felt at home.  The woman at the front desk was very pleasant and the waiting area generated a relaxing atmosphere. I was surrounded by women wanting and waiting to get something “fixed.”  I felt extremely comfortable being in that room – it was my kind of crowd.  For once I felt that Sabrina would be the outcast.  Guess I should’ve invited her along.

After speaking with the plastic surgeon about my options, we came to the conclusion that I would benefit greatly if I received a new nose and fuller lips. We also discussed a few minor changes I can do at home with my hair.

Shortly after my surgery, my mind toyed with the beautiful image that I would see after I removed the bandages. Since my old image was an eye sore, I was anxious to envelope the new change which was supposed to change my life forever.

The moment finally arrived! The swelling had gone down and my confidence shot through the roof. I was the woman I envisioned. Prettier than Sabrina? I didn’t know but I was anxious to find out.

The first person I went to show off my new look to was Sabrina. I wanted to see her reaction to my transformation.  Surprisingly it wasn’t what I expected. I thought she’d be envious, but she wasn’t!  She was really excited about the transformation and even offered up some of her clothes. Of course, I didn’t take them. I was done living in her shadow.

To make a long story short, I love my new look but something happened the other day.  I ran into an old college buddy who hadn’t seen me since before I got the procedure.  During our conversation he said “You know,Taylor, I loved the way you looked before.” 

When I questioned why he never showed interest, he replied, “You appeared to be more of a challenge because you carried yourself in a conservative manner.” Then he mentioned that he remembers Sabrina always wearing provocative clothing which made her easier to approach. 

 My mouth dropped.  I was shocked. Images of Sabrina and I growing up flashed through my mind…and he was right! She loved to wear short skirts and tight clothes.  So, all of this time, it wasn’t necessarily her beauty that I was in competition with, but rather a perception

Reminiscing again, my old photos lie spread out in front of me.  Sadness covers me as I wonder how beautiful I would’ve looked “naturally” without my enhancements. Were they worth it? I think….Maybe not.  If I was beautiful then, I could’ve been more beautiful now – without the hefty medical bill!

I recalled the times when I would softly whisper and tell myself, “I’ll be pretty one day!” Little did I know those days were days I should’ve cherished more closely.

 

The Divorcee

2 Comments

 The thought of waking up next to him use to be sheer bliss, now I sit and look at him with uncertainty.

Thoughts of last night cloud my mind…the carousel, the laughter, and carnival games all brought back such wonderful memories.  Still uncertain if I was more excited of the childhood feeling or the feeling of us being together, I scramble to find an answer quick.  As my mind slows down a bit, my heart widens I can’t help but to crack a smile. I look back at him.

Was it the way he held my hand and looked me in my eyes? Was it the familiar way he sexed that made me want more? How does this go? It took forever to get him to see that I was serious about pursuing the divorce. Now, he lies comfortably in my bed – sound asleep as if he has no care in the world. 

Don’t ask me how, but it was something about the way the sheets covered him that brought back painful memories. In an instant the sweet feelings of admiration are gone and vengeance rushes to the surface. The thought of him lying in my bed sickened me and irritation played on the thoughts of him still not having a job, a car, or a place to call his own.  The same feelings of “I’m picking up the pieces” triggered a deep feeling of distaste.

I pace back and forth a few times before nudging him on the shoulder. The days of waking him up with soft kisses are over.  “Wake up!” I say. My voice is shaky, but he wouldn’t know. A few seconds pass and he doesn’t move. My heart sinks deeper in my chest with every beat and my rage surfaces. “Michael wake up!” I yell, pinching him this time.

“I’m up!” He says in the same nonchalant tone he used when I woke him up to take me to work in my car.

“I need you to get your things and get out.” I say as I begin picking up his clothes and throwing them on the foot of the bed. “Come on. Get out!”

“Teresa, calm down. Just give me a minute.” He replies wiping the cold from his eye.  He had no clue he just added fuel to the fire.

I gave him nothing but time! Six years worth of my time with very little to show for it. The logical side of me keeps me sane. “He’ll be gone in a minute.” I remind myself.

We didn’t say two words to one another as he dressed. The sex appeal has diminished.  The feelings of the ex-wife have taken over!

“You never gave me a chance,” he says looking at me with those big round puppy dog eyes. He pulls his shirt over his head and walks toward the bedroom door. I watch him with my arms folded across my chest.

“Why are you so cold?’ He asked for the fifteenth million time since we’ve known one another.  As usual I pay no attention. Truth be told I’m still trying to shake the thoughts of him not being able to support me like a man should.

Finally, he leaves. I walk to the living room and sit on the couch. Silence surrounds me but my mind is so loud that I can hardly think. Why do I keep going back to this forbidden fruit tree? It does me no good. I went through the divorce to let everyone know that I completely removed this man from my life, but somehow I sneak another rendezvous.

My phone vibrates; I receive a text. It’s Michael. When I read what he wrote, I drop the phone and cover my face. The phone lands right side up so his words are visible: “I LOVED YOU LIKE A HUSBAND COULD. DID YOU LOVE ME LIKE A WIFE SHOULD?”

I pause as I allow myself to think of the good that he’s done for me. When I was sick, he nurtured me back to health. When I lost my mother and couldn’t cope, he took on the funeral arrangements. If I needed someone to talk to, he was my best friend. Why is this so difficult?

Guess he’s right! I never saw me in the equation. He did things for me that money couldn’t buy.

I wonder if there’s any way that we can turn back the hands of time.

Not What You Think

Leave a comment

It’s been less than a week and you already occupy my thoughts. Your scent lingers around my lips and your beauty is embedded in my spirit. I don’t know why this is occurring so fast – your familiarity scares me deeply. Men like you have come and gone, but none of them were quite like you so I’m confused.

 I want to recluse to a place more comfortable. A place where I have options and other men serve as distractions and your perfect silhouette is a mere shadow. I don’t want to see you in the light that you portray because my darkness is filled with so much pain. Fear taps my shoulder with every glimmer of hope that you might be the guy I’ve hoped for.  My heart won’t let me explore you fully.

 I will never ask you your thoughts because it’ll be so easy for you deceive me – especially at this stage. So I wait for you to reach out your hand and pull me up from this dark hollow pit.  My heart bleeds and tears compensate for the strength that I once had and the innocence that I’ve lost. I’m scared.

 I wish you could hold me for real, because in my thoughts I nestle so comfortably in your arms as you assure me that you’re real. In the same breath, I sigh with mixed emotion. I am not sure where to turn and my thoughts are disillusioned. I’m hopeful, yet fearful of you.

 After all, I am an emotional prostitute.

Rain Maker

1 Comment

Rain Maker.

Normally I see you on a blank sheet before I write, but today I’m way too blinded by my own sexual desire. I have no idea what you look like, but I hear you calling me. Or am I calling you? I’m confused.

Consider yourself captured! I’m sorry you’re a victim of MY circumstances but I’ll warn…if you hesitate I will TAKE IT! No pictures allowed so give me your phone. And if you try to call for help I’ll add time to your sentence.  Follow these rules and we’ll be ok.

Rule #1 – Spank

Rule #2 – Bite

By the way, we haven’t met. My name is Thirsty – what’s yours?

Never mind. I’ll just call you Rain Maker.

Now sit back and seek shelter from this storm. Hope your packing an extra clip cause one round won’t do. And unless we blow all these lust-filled holes you won’t leave! The quicker the better so Rain Maker make your move.

A Lonely Journey

Leave a comment

Dear Diary,

His hand reaches out to me, but he’s too distant for me to touch.  Steadily I weep as I struggle to meet him on common ground, but my perseverance has gone in vain.  When he left for duty, a part of me knew there was a chance I wouldn’t see him again, and that our unborn daughter may never know her father. Despite the odds of him being killed, I somehow convinced myself that he would return.  Patiently I waited while silently convincing our daughter that her father would be happy to see her.

A week before Christmas, is the day I learn Joshua was killed. Cursing the commander for playing a cruel joke, and ripping Joshua’s farewell letter to shreds.  I knew that if I opened it, it confirmed his death.  No matter the fact that the contents may be something that would help console me.  I needed Joshua to tell me everything in person. 

Waking up in the morning has been a nightmare in itself.  I’m reminded that I must spend another day without my soul mate.  The life we built together is now one I must live alone.  I can’t help the tears as they flow constantly down my face.  What have we done to deserve this?  I look in the mirror and face an unrecognizable image – a woman with eyes as red as tomatoes and skin as dead as my great grandmother.  God help me recover…if there is recovery.

Surrounded by silence and a small ray of morning light that seeps through the kitchen curtain, I sort through old photos replaying all of the goodness about him.  One of the photos captures his thrill for adrenaline as he bungee jumps from one of the highest bridges in our city.  I remember that day, it was the first time we hitchhiked from one city to another.  Boy do I wish he’d hitch a ride back to the physical world and release me from anguish.

His mother stopped by yesterday and we didn’t say much to one another. I guess it was mostly my fault that we didn’t.  But how can I comfort another woman, when no one is here to comfort me?  My heart won’t allow for me to comprehend our reality.  Enthusiastically, I’m living in fantasy and hoping that if God sees my despair, he’d bring my husband home.  I refuse to believe that Joshua is destined to meet me in my dreams for the rest of my life.  Wasn’t it enough that I waited my entire life for this man before we married? 

One night I almost lost it and summoned Joshua to speak to me.  I called out repeatedly for him, and when that got old, I spoke to him as if he were sitting on the edge of the bed listening.  “Joshua – come back to me!  Please come back, I can’t do this alone….Joshua…” I pause as if I expect an answer, “…can you hear me?”

Life has stopped and I wish that time would stop with it, or at least backtrack to the day Joshua left to serve his country.  Maybe I could’ve held him a little longer.  Maybe I could’ve told him that he better come back to me.  If I hadn’t underestimated the dangers of war, I could’ve saved him…couldn’t I?

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and also the day of Joshua’s funeral.  I take a deep sigh as I try my hardest to quiet my mind enough to get sleep.  Just as I shut my eyes, a cold gush of air passed me.  I looked around nervously as the heat from the vent warmed my body.  A few moments passed before I figured that the cold air was Joshua’s spirit.  For the first time in two weeks I feel him next to me.   Feeling crazy and desperate, I call to him, “Joshua, are you here?”

A few moments later, my belly rumbles.  Our daughter is kicking – but it’s an unusual feeling.  It feels as if she is somehow playing.  I sit still and try to get in tune with what is happening.  For a quick second I thought I was crazy…I heard a baby laugh.  Is it possible? Could Joshua be playing with her! I listen a little while longer and the kicks get softer.  Sensing she was asleep, I smiled.  Call me crazy, but I believe that Joshua put our daughter to sleep. I lay back on the bed and embrace the cold air as it hovers around me. I guess in my crazy mind Joshua was telling me that although he’s no longer protecting his country, he’s always here protecting us.

- Written by Beatrice McClearn

Love Overdose

Leave a comment

Is it the way you watched me as you passed? Maybe it’s the scent of your cologne that lingers far after you’re gone. Possibly it’s the invigorating sensation I feel when you hold me close, or maybe the fact that you give me a sex overdose?  Either way, I’m hooked on your goodness. 

 Although there’s so much more to us I can’t ignore the feeling I get each time you cum…I cum…we cum…  

 You must think I’m savaged to think of such thoughts so early in the afternoon.  Will you stop byto say hello sometime soon?  I’m feenin for another dose.  Addictive you are, addicted I am.

Fulfill me tonight and give me everything I need until tomorrow morning…

Gentle, firm, and euphoric to the touch. You make me smile. Your touch is but a daydream away from reality.  Lovely you are, in every way imaginable.  It’s too good to be true, makes me healthy and full of…well you.  

Hold my hand and kiss it slowly, starting with my finger tips.  Then move up my arm and stop at my neck. Tickle me a bit before I return the favor. The excitement leaves me mesmerized.  Man –  I can’t shake the feeling. I’ll be your twenty-four hour store, so cum in at your convenience.

 I can’t wait for you to satisfy me, satisfy you, satisfy us.

The Calamity Part II

Leave a comment

So the Calamity Part I spiraled into a web of Calamity Part II. I left the guy I spoke of in Part I to be alone with his shadows on the shore. I don’t regret my decision either. It was either fight his battles or hold on to the bit of dignity I had. I chose the latter.

With tears in my eyes and more strength than I ever imagined, I sailed away from our island. The boat I built for 2 had become a boat for one. But I think that one of his shadows leaped on my boat and I’ll tell you why.  

On my journey, I experienced waves the size of mountains. And I didn’t think that I would survive the course but thankfully God instilled in me a spirit that continuously lifts me to heights I never knew existed.

The first wave shook me not far from when I left shore. The guy I waited for saw me struggle to stay afloat, yet he sat in his same spot in the sand. He didn’t dive in after me, proof that he wasn’t who he he’d become. The second wave hit in the middle of the ocean. There was no one for me to cry out to but God – and even then I didn’t have the strength to call His name. I just closed my eyes and clinched my hands tightly. In my thoughts I was okay with dying. Alone in an ocean is better than being alone among familiar faces. This was my decision.

When I reached my home shore, I realized my people were invaded and uprooted to someplace unknown. Now the land is filled with terror and trickery. I have to be careful not to get caught in a tangled web of lies and deceit, so rather I try to fit in. But finding allies is like pinning a needle in a haystack. I don’t know who I can tell of my venture; not sure who to trust with my secrets. So I remain quiet.

I lay with one of the invaders but I’m not sure which side he embraces. In my presence he seems familiar but there are times he doesn’t acknowledge me as his own. Within a few nights he began to lick, suck and love. A task previously delegated to the stranger I left behind on the island.

Slow and steady wins the race; but the motion of the ocean still taunts me. I no longer know how to embrace what I’ve been searching for all this time. It’s difficult to let go of shadows formed before and after I left the island. And my heart aches that I can’t entrust this new stranger with helping me find my way. Last night I tried to ask for help, but he ignored the request and fell asleep on my side.

 I’d like to say that this is the end of my Calamity but I hope for a better ending, so I won’t say goodbye – but rather see you later…in Part III

The Calamity Part I

2 Comments

He use to…

He use to lick, suck, and hmmm love me good.

He use to look me in my eyes and tell my soul secrets that only he could. 

He use to love me down in a way that only God himself could do.

He took my virginity, or shall I say he tamed my inner beast. We rode the waves of life together and nothing could stop us from the monsoon of our inner dwellings. As one guy dangled between my legs for the thrill of the ride, another stood beside me as I dropped him off at the next stop, but my best friend…he held on tight. As a matter of fact he steered our platform to a world so fierce that only he and I could survive.

With just us in this world my mind glittered with thoughts of creating new life. But somewhere along the way he took his name out of the sand. He began to sit on the other side of the beach. It started with a night but then days went by that I couldn’t find him. After a month or two, I found him…and he was filled with remorse. 

“How could I have been so foolish?” He asked himself as pain grew deeper in his heart. The world he took me became dark.

No matter how hard I begged him to stay in the light, he couldn’t turn away from shadows of his past. They reminded him that he was to feel love no more. They told him that I couldn’t be here because I was them in disguise. They made him to believe that I never spoke secrets to his soul. The force of those shadows was so strong that his touch turned cold, his eyes turned black, and his heart dried.

“I have no feelings for you.” He said as I turned to walk away. “You may go do as you please,” he warned. The cold was bitter and so were his words. My heart bled for him – it bled deeply for a year.

Not once did I turn back to reach for the guy who dangled between my legs. Not once did I look for the gentleman who was on my arm. Rather I stayed close to my true love…waiting for him to win the battle against the darkness.

We made love a few times, but they were nothing like the times before. His frost-bitten tongue stopped licking and there was often very little sucking. We fucked to please him while my clit, breasts, lips, and heart wanted so much more.

If we are the only two people living in this world then why doesn’t he see me for what I am? Why can’t my light penetrate his darkness?

I built a raft to drift back to my old world but when I get out to sea I envision him coming to his senses, and so I turn back. A few times I picked up a hitch hiker who heard of our beautiful world and wanted to explore it. And when I told them stories of how dark it became, they promised to overthrow the dark lord, so I threw them off-board before we ever make it to shore. Some of them were promising, but none of them were him.

Today I sit beside him, watching as he stares out to sea. His heart still dried and his energy still cold. I wait for the day he wins this war so that our beautiful home can be bright once more.

Cougar Prey

Leave a comment

Mr. Eclectic,

I bet you had no clue that you first turned me out at dinner. I preyed on you as you slowly nibbled on your cheesecake. Slow and sensual your mouth moved around the spoon, leaving me yearning for a bite.

Your lips part enough so I could embrace how your mouth tasted the sweet cream. You remained unaware that you made my pussy throb against my panties as I watched you eat. Like a baby cougar stalking her prey, I became fascinated with you in those moments.

Too many factors played a role in why I didn’t pounce on you then. Rather, I made note to remain cautious and wait…eventually I’ll get what I want.

Alcohol ran through my blood, but my mind and body were sober. I knew that I wanted you.

Sin was born when you bit your bottom lip, just before opening my lower pair.  I made plenty for you to feast over, making it easy to slide your dick inside of me.  And…well…I’m not sure if it was that moment that I gave up my power, but I can assure you that I felt powerless.

During our intimate play of tug and war, you thanked me. Who knew a lion could be so kind?  Taken back by your gentleness I wondered if you really thanked me while hiding deep inside my wet pussy. Without a moment to loose, you speak again. This time your words were more sincere “Thanks for letting me in.

I enjoyed it!! I wanted more of it!! I craved your stroke as my eyes rolled in the back of my head.  I melted deeper in to the sheets and called your name. My legs straddled your thighs tightly, making sure not to let go.

Can I be in you all night? I’m in no rush.” You whispered softly in my ear as you thrust harder inside me.

Kissing my heart with your words, I give you the okay to love me how ever you choose.

I high-five my g-spot, which is very pleased with your caress.  Our silhouettes united under the dim light warmed me. Moments later, you let out a big roar. The lion had shown his face! You pushed deeper, harder and faster as if it couldn’t get any better.  I screamed uncontrollably as I squirted over the sheets.

You let out a final grunt as you roll over. My lesson is over.  I close my eyes once more and realize that I too can be prey.

Thank you Mr. Eclectic – for that wonderful night.

Office Play

2 Comments

He directs the meeting and addresses the team in a very stern “I need productivity levels to increase.”  His hands motion to the whiteboard canvassing our quarterly figures. “I don’t care how we get there, just do it!”

Nervous tension clouds the room.  I glance at Lorien who raises her eyebrow as if to say “I told you.” 

I nod and shift my attention back to Kirkland as he continues discussing our team’s expectations. My heart stops to open the treasure box that’s been buried deep down for the past few weeks. Our relationship is fresh but strong!  As he spoke, my eyes glazed over him like a honey baked ham.  His penis stares back at me. The temperature in the room always warmed when that happened.  Fortunately I’m the only one that notices.

Careful not to let the others see my lustful stares, I check the clock.  Fifteen minutes left and then I can fulfill myself or rather have him fill me.  Until then, I can’t think of anything else.  Random thoughts of our love making cross my mind sporatically.  Where should I take him…on the table? On the chair, or maybe on the floor?  As Kirkland distracts the rest of the team, I glance the room for a place to fulfill our love games.

“If you have any questions, come to my office.” Kirkland says as he shuffles through his stack of papers.  The others on the team swiftly get up to head for lunch.  As usual Taylor is the last to leave, but I wait patiently for her to leave before closing the office door.

Of course it’s rumored that Kirkland and I are having an affair, but my title as Assistant Manager helps curve the rumor while justifying our meeting after the meeting.  I walk over to Kirkland with a big smile on my face. 

“I couldn’t wait for that to end.” I say grabbing him by the tie.

Dodging my kiss, he pushes himself back.  “Not today Dana.”

Not today? My voice cracks. “What’s wrong?”

He looks at the wall, and then back to me.  “It’s my wife,” he pauses “…she’s pregnant again.”

Time stopped, and my heart stopped with it.  In an instant my feelings of lust turned to disgust and uneasiness.

“Give me time.” He says.  Somehow his words went in one ear and out of the other.  Could it be that his promises of leaving her were empty promises? Stuck and feeling like a foolish whore, I swallow the pain in one big gulp. 

“Oh,” I whisper.  “In that case, your loss.”

As I walked toward the office door a part of me wanted to turn around and beg him to choose.  But my pride reminded me that he’d already made his choice.  Ladies, never listen to a married man that says he’ll leave his wife.

A Trip to Macy’s

Leave a comment

The weirdest thing happened today!  And although I’m embarrassed to reveal my secret with the world, this story is just too good to pass up.

Around 2pm I walked in to the local Macy’s to pick up an outfit for my husband’s 30th birthday bash.  What was supposed to be a twenty minute outing quickly turned in to an hour’s worth of grab and search.  I grabbed everything that I could find in a size 8 and tried it on. Critical of how they fit, it didn’t take long for me to throw it back on the rack to search for something more desireable. I wanted a garment that fit my hips tightly and my chest a little less. Of course, Macy’s being Macy’s that wasn’t the case at all.  My “trunk junk” (ass) fit nicely in the outfits by default.  The tops…well they were a little hard to come by since my boobs could feed every orphan on earth.

Frustrated, I went to the dresses.  Even though I said I wouldn’t wear a dress by any means necessary, it may be my only option.  Unable to pretend I liked the idea, my face turned sour as I sorted through the floral printed dresses collecting dust in the middle of the floor. I read the “Take An Additional 1/2 Off” sign in a poor attempt to convince myself that a discount would save me  money. But not even the thought of saving money made me jump in to one of the pieces.  In fact a quick glance around the floor made me realize that these dresses were made for old women with expensive taste. 

Just before I turned to leave empty handed, a man dressed in a Macy’s vest with a nametag that read “Walker” approached me.

“Is there anything I can assist you with?” He asks.

A bit taken back by his poise, I reply “I’m looking for something to wear for my husband’s 30th birthday bash.”  As if I were a kid lost in a bookstore, I look around the room unamazed at the selection.  I shrug my shoulders, “would you recommend something?”

He puts his finger to his lips and looks me over not once – but twice.  “Come with me.”

He takes me to the all black dress section.  I doubted this section before since I’m not attending a funeral for my husband. Silently gazing over the different dresses, he stops and picks up one of the lower cut dresses.  I laugh hesitantly. It appears he doesn’t know my taste at all.

“Trust me,” he says handing me the garment. “Try it on.”

I go inside of the dressing room and try it on.  Surprisingly it fit me quite nicely.  The lower cut wasn’t so low afterall since my breasts soaked up most of the material.

On the other side of the dressing room door, Walker startled me. “Can I peek?”  His knock seemed innocent enough so I opened the door to show him.  It was great that he was there to give me a guy’s perspective anyway.

“You’re husband will love this.” He said coming in closer.  As he began touching the fabric and straightening it out along the curves of my body, I got a whiff of his cologne.  Hypnotized instantly by the dose of smell good, I zoned out for a few moments. The next thing I know, his hands are caressing my breasts in a way that is playful yet teasing. Curious of what is to come by this and tranced long enough for him to continue, I stand motionless.

He begins kissing me softly around my neck and one thing led to another.  Now…this story is embarrassing enough, so I don’t want to go in to too much detail of how he sexed me upside down or how I straddled him against the wall.  hahah

I must say that I have never experienced anything like that before. I didn’t even know it was a fantasy until after it happened.  How crazy is that!

Well to make an already long story shorter – I will leave you with this. The dress fits nice and I will be sure to escort all of my friends to that particular Macy’s the next time they ask “Where did you get that?” Just so maybe I can get one last peek at the guy who turned an ordinary shopping trip in to an amazing adventure.

Peace & Love

 (Note: This is another story created exclusively for MindPlay and created soley for the enjoyment for those who like to daydream. Macy’s should not investigate any male employees as a result of this blog. lol)

My final ode to him

2 Comments

We were always meant to be. He just didn’t see it at the time – at least not in the manner that I saw us.  In my mind, we were married by the time we turned 24 and pregnant with our second child by 27.  In my mind, we would’ve grown old together and we would’ve experienced the happily ever after created by dreamers and animation facilitators. 
 
Well life didn’t pan out quite that way. In fact, I’m not sure why I still write about him. Maybe it’s because he is and forever will be the guy that I wanted but never had.
 
We’ve lived parallel lives up until this point.  Both got married, and divorced; loved and let love.  But none of those things seemed to really matter without each other. At least not to me.  No matter where I turn or where I go, he’s always lingering in the back of my mind.  I feel stalkerish at times because I think of him so often. But the reality is that I would rather not be in the same room – especially if I know that the topic is not us. He sits idle on my page.  I don’t check to see what he’s up to because my eyes are closed to the world he lives.
 
 But from time to time I get a glimpse of his parallel universe – and I’m reminded that we are worlds apart.  Only God knows if our paths will intersect one day.  And it’s easy to assume that since we were faithful to our spouse, at least with each other, that we would reap great benefits. Divorce tore down marital walls that we built with other people, and I can’t help but wonder if we were building on unstable ground.  Today, as our paths narrow in on one another, I wonder if a perpendicular path will bind us in to a straight line. 
Years of wondering about our destiny is exhausting and quite old – and only recently I’ve gained independence by creating passwords different from his name.  Wow, his name…did I really have his name for a password?  Perhaps I was compensating for not having the key to his heart.  Or perhaps I knew that his name unlocked so much more than access to my e-mail or checking accounts. And my hopes for naming my daughter Alliyah are second guessed, because I’d feel like I’m living our childish fantasies of raising her together.
 
What needs to happen so that I’m no longer haunted by this dream that’s been nothing but a nightmare?  Maybe he can help. He can stop listening to what I have to say – when we do talk – and ask me to listen to him for once.  Maybe he can start revealing how he feels so that it’s no longer a mystery to me and I don’t have to fantasize about what will one day be. 
 
I love him dearly, and that will not change, and I’ve always had his best interest at heart.  But I’ve realized over the years that maybe it’s best that we continue to live parallel lives. And so with that said, I am announcing that this is my final piece on him. No matter what emotions I may hold, or situations arise, I vow to never write about him again.  I’m moving to a place where I can dream again – a life without him in it. I’d love to live a life where I am free!
 
 
 
- Written by Beatrice McClearn

A Mindless Day

Leave a comment

I sit at my desk, silently cursing the people around me. I look outside and silently curse that too.

My mind wrestles as it tries to become still.  But instead I quietly rant hopelessly. My mind wonders…

Writing this book makes it no easier. I find myself on emotional highs and lows, the same as the character…

I asked James if he believed in being in love with more than one person.  He answered, “yes.” We agree. But is that really true…

I wonder if I’m getting anything for Valentine’s Day this year.  Something that’s meaningful anyway. I try not to think about it cause I think I know the answer.  I brace myself and rid myself of the emotion behind it.  When have I had a meaningful V-day anyway…

For the first time today I gave a guy a little play.  Usually I would have shrugged him off. They all want the same thing. But I gave him my e-mail address – one that I hardly use…lol. When I asked him where he worked, he said that he owned his own business. I saw right through that, another word for “jobless.” I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I knew.

Abduction

Leave a comment

Seductively the shirtless man moves across the stage one foot in front of the other. His body flows effortlessly through the cloud of lust surrounding him. Muscles tight, abs right, and complexion DARK. Meat and chocolate for the soul, I easily loose control in his tangled web.

BOOM BOOM BOOM He thrusts his hips to the beat of the erotic drum. Our eyes meet and in that moment he silently speaks a language that means only one thing – “I’m yours WHENEVER and HOWEVER you want me to be.” I smile and silently reply “Daaaayyyum right.”

BOOM BOOM…TIC The melody slows and his movement becomes more concentrated and defined. A second later he breaks through the lust-filled cloud to allow me inside. Once I’m in, he closes the door and and wraps me in his arms. Visibly I bite my lower lip while secretly opening my other pair. Fallen I’ve become. Deeply entangled in the moment I hardly notice the dollar bills being thrown in his direction.

BOOM BOOM…TIC He rubs his hands around my waist and further down my back. I rock with him to the slow, luring beat. His dance continues effortlessly as I caress his body dabbed to perfection with sweet scented oil that he must’ve gotten from Raheem at the incense shop. Before I know it, he puts one hand in between my thighs and lifts me until I’m face down. Sweet goodness close to his face as his lips meet mine from the flipside up. Oh Heaven is all I could say but my face was closer to the devil.

BOOM BOOM…TIC He flips me back on my feet and pulls me over to a chair. He seats me and begins to dance circles around me. I follow his body as best I could, controlling all of the convulsions within me. Seeing him dance drives me crazy! He places my hand on the tiny hill tops that sit upon his abs. Dayum, can I get some of that…I take it one step further and inspect his body with my fingertips. hmmmm I moan softly as he continues to dance around my fingers.

TIC…TIC…TICThe melody closes, and his dance comes to an end. He kisses me on the cheek and whispers in my ear “taste good ma.” I chuckle, wondering if he knew that I’d anticipated our moment ever since I’d seen him do the same dance for the last girl who paid for a moment inside his cloud.

I return to my seat, with a smile on my face and his kiss dripping down my leg. My friends hoot and holler at the fact that I was abducted by DreamCatcher - the stripper that is known to turn a woman out. My phone rings and in an instant, I’m released from my abductor…”Hey sweetie, I’ll be home right after the waiter gives us the check.” I lie to hold tight to my secret. On the insde I’m glowing and in the back of my mind, I’m hoping that for a small moment later on, DreamCatcher smiles at the thought of me too.

- Written by Beatrice McClearn

Older Entries

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.