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Grassroots activist, feminist, sociologist, poop talk pro, future foster mom, travel whore, thrift store junky, music and food consumer.

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Fighting Temptations

I was standing too close to this brother who used to hound me and I knew that if I didn’t leave, he was going to lead, and I was going to probably be rocking his pearl necklace proudly. And I didn’t want to be known as easy, breezy, beautiful lover girl. That never meet your mother girl. Only exist under the covers girl. Especially when I’ve worked so hard to be that other girl. That first to meet your mother girl.

I knew we were content but not as happy as we could be. But his kisses felt like they were placed exactly where they should be. But would we, let our inhibitions go and roam fluidly? Indeed because shortly…

Natural oils were cooking on the surface of our skin. Cocoa, olive, and shea butter sizzling. The aroma aroused me further the more they blended in. Fingers co-mingling like old college friends. They did fall which caused my hips to be introduced to his. Hi, my name is love in the form of passion. I came to tell it like it is so you don’t have room to pretend that you haven’t been waiting to give in to this sensation. This is when I begin to lose the fight with temptation so I whispered in his ear, “Its yours. Take it!”

Hearts were racing. It ceased to be about us being in the same place, same space. Face it. Faces were changing as we were getting lust wasted. The pulsations had my legs losing feeling and shaking. Our impact was so intense, there’s no better way to explain it. Its like we were saving the world letting our spirits out their cages.

Had me calling out his government and I’m not talking about the judges, congress, or the President. No cups for measuring the dosages of lovin’ I was giving him. No tape measurements of angles my legs spread engulfing him.

It wasn’t long before we earned our nick names. As we lay, he claimed to have beaten it out the frame. If that’s true then that’s proof it was picture perfect so that’s cool. Then I said I would call him my plumber because he laid pipe like no other. Or my psychopath because he kills cats. He kills cats.