Femme Fatale

Our tits, my son

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Our tits, my son.

My son got born earlier in the morning and I am ecstatic. He is a gift from my ancestors and the Universe. I treasure him. He is my gold in a world that’s been digitized; valuable, tangible, priceless. It’s like falling in love for the first time, I am in la, la, land, heaven, a place of pure bliss devoid of the construct of time. I’ve never felt love quite like this, it’s like I am floating on butterflies through the clouds of the light blue sky. He makes me believe in miracles. There is a God, – he is proof, a blessing. I am thankful and grateful for this opportunity. I will teach him everything I know with an open heart and a lot of love. I will guide him. Help strengthen him to make sure he is the great man destiny intended. I’ll teach him about business and wealth creation. I was lucky I was broke and built an empire out of nothing. Being broke is experiencing your own mortality, it is being vulnerable and helpless to effect change or influence outside stimuli, that’s why I worked so hard to be rich, to have the illusion of immortality, to be invincible. You’ll be invincible from the start, girls are going to be sending you pictures captioned “you could tear this up”- I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. I’ll teach him about the importance of having an inner scorecard and not one based on external factors. Don’t claim to be anyone you’re not. Love yourself unconditionally. Respect everyone and beware of placing too much value on material things because they end up owning you, depriving you of your peace and happiness. When you say you are going to do something, do it, no excuses, be a man of your word my son. I’ll teach him about girls and women. True, they are an enigma and I don’t know much about their motivations and thought patterns. They are truly a strange species, unpredictable, highly volitile, sometimes unstable, frightening and devastating like a natural disaster. They are difficult to assess and understand, maybe they really are from Venus and us from Mars, it would certainly explain why it’s inhospitable for man; too much chaos presided, women can’t co-exist with one another and I don’t mean to boast but man is returning to Mars. Mars is a great place filled giant screens that showcase football and other sports daily, the home of Elon Musk, Richard Branson and Jeff Bezos, a place of sport cars and super sleek, fast Teslas, pool tables, infinite alcohol and drugs, no tough decisions, no responsibilities and no circumstances. A place of Goodfellas like Scorsese and De Niro but no death, just collaboration, a brotherhood and positive energy.

But in planet Earth, women are useful as you will soon experience. For one they register and process large quantities of data faster and more efficiently. This is important in the matters of life and death, you need a strong counsel. The trick is just to love and accept them as they are, don’t try to understand them or assert your will on them, understand that disaster might strike at anytime and accept reality for what it is – I think that’s what God intended. Just love them because even with all their uncertainties, they are the most valuable species in the whole Universe, they make life worthwhile, they are the nurturers of life. I’ll give you all the information I’ve attained from my interactions with them. I suggest you seek consultation from other wise men who will also share their experiences and knowledge, this will give you a more wholistic picture. I can’t guarantee concise data regarding women my son, no man can, we are from Mars and they are from Venus.

Of course, there’s this issue of the Oedipus Complex. I suspect there will be some hostility between me and you. You want to possess your mother (my woman) and you are rightly entitled to her. I won’t oppose you son, for the first few months, she is all yours. I will refrain from all acts of jealousy. I know you will appreciate those tits more than anything in the world. Your father is a genius, a visionary and I chose those tits for you. I qualified and discarded a lot of applicants for you to have those perfect tits. That’s my early gift to you because I love you so much. Enjoy them, take your time, don’t rush to get old, drive slow and enjoy the scenery and sensations. Those are our tits, my son, at least for now.

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Between her thighs

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Between her thighs

She told me she loved me and at that moment I was trapped because I was only interested in what was between her thighs. I felt it was a premeditated move consciously executed to land her man. She is vindictive and this is a ploy to possess all of me like a prisoner, a slave. That is what love is all about, control over the other person. Love is strategic ploy to weaken and exploit. Love is a flanking maneuver that surprises and hurts the opposition. Love is tact to make somebody vulnerable, a blow that makes a soldier reeling and a poison that kills without medical assistance. Love is war, deadly and compromising. I resent the notion that we were made of gold and sunshine. That is not what a human being is at all because like Nietzsche once stated, even good actions are sublimated evil ones. She showed her hand too soon. It was rash, impulsive, expedient and unsedective. Still, I had to be careful because I knew where that blurt came from. It was truthful expression on her side, her shadow and it came from a fabricated reality. All of her life she has been chasing the idea of love. She loved the idea of somebody completing her. She loved the idea of somebody instinctively knowing her thoughts and how she felt. The culture of romanticism had consumed all of her being. She was impractical living in a world where she chased novelty after novelty. She had a low self-esteem and confidence. Maybe, it was because she had been hurt before. Maybe, it hurt her to the core that it dismantled her self-worth and identity. Maybe this is delicate and sensitive. It could be me, something about my childhood and how I was raised. It could be that I had a narcissistic mother who never gave me much attention and that I am scared of being abandoned and so I do it to others before they do it to me. Maybe I am a written-off vehicle, completely wrecked and damaged. Still, I had to answer or run the risk of dead air taking over. I responded “I love you squared.” It sounded vague and contained possibilities. It sounded like an illusion. It hinted at loving you more but meant nothing like that. It was an exceptional counter-attacking move, one with precision and amazing creativity. The answer had to be great too, if I had any chance of being between her thighs. See, it was a mission of mine, a dream – her thighs were like a gateway to heaven, to paradise. I felt like a jackhammer anticipating to be used. A bomb on countdown awaiting to explode, figuratively and literally in her. Her body excited my middleman and love had nothing to do with it. What I felt was merely physical. A longing to express my desires on her. She represented an object to gratify my sexual urges. Besides being an object, she meant nothing to me. I resent the fact that she would tell me that she loves me when I was trying to climb, to be the best. I am young, black, gifted and amazing and she is trying to cling on to me, to lay claim and preserve like vegetables in the refrigerator. I am not a possession, I am not a vegetable in someone’s refrigerator – I belong to the world and any woman who inquires. Am I a bad person? Sure, but she’s the hypocrite and the liar, camouflaging herself to the exterior of love when she doesn’t know my intrinsic value. How can you claim to love someone you barely know? This is just the duality of life, the realization that we mean different things to different people. The realization that we are a coin toss and fittingly, theres a third side to a coin, the side that gives the coin its duality. She is wrong for loving me so abruptly. After all, would she love me if the word “love” didn’t exist? Highly unlikely, she would have requested a signature to my death warrant. So yes, sure I am an exceptional human being. At least she knows what I want. There’s a big bullseye sign between her legs and I want to be the nail that gets hammered in repeatedly. I wish to penetrate through the curtains of life. I am interested in the energy force that propelled humanity forward in our long ancestry line. Her personality is of little relevance to me; I am only interested in what is between her thighs. Personality depends upon the environment and culture, it is not reliable to be considered as critera. I wish she could detach from her body, it would be ideal. But since that’s an impossibility, I have to be patient with her. By professing her love to me, in my hands I have her vanity and ego; I can make her do anything that I want. She is eager to impress. While I don’t consider her a serious project, I do see her as an adequate mistress, somebody there when called upon to gratify my urges. Alternatively, we could fuck just one more time then she’ll be somebody that I used to know. But why limit yourself?

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Femme Fatale

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Femme Fatale

I want a femme fatale like Sharon Stone, Hi Ginger! Hi there, Cleopatra. Hi there Robot Lady from Ex-Machina, I can’t believe that boy fell for your tricks, what a moron! Hi there Albertine, thank you for the lessons Proust. I want a dangerous woman who will lead me to my eventual death. One who is a master manipulator who will attune to my moods like a satellite. A woman who will string my ego like Beethoven. Play me against my friends and family like a piano and reside in my subconscious mind like a repressed memory. I want a femme fatale who is narcissistic and gains from other people’s misfortunes. A girl who is promicuous and dirty like linen on the washing line. One who uses her sexuality to make me yield. I want a liar who will make me suffer. I want a flirt who will fill my gastank with jealously and thoughts of suicide. I want a femme fatale to seduce me and play to my repressed desires. I want her to study and reflect my frailties like a mirror. I want her to stalk and devour me like a predictor. I want her undivided attention. I want her craftsmanship. I want her talents, her expectise. I want her body and the way her clothes always accentuate her features; I am talking legs, thighs, ass and boobs. I want her sweet talk and low pitched voice. I want her suggestive eyes that imply nothing. I want her short skirts and red lip stick. I want her poisoned red apple covered in cyanide. I want her detached demeanor. I want deceit. Oh, please tell me another lie. I want a bruised ego and a tumorous existence. I want to be one of her victims. I want a femme fatale who will tease me and string me along like Pinocchio, one who will make me feel like a real boy. I want a femme fatale to play with my emotions like a toy. A woman who is cold and distant. I want a femme fatale to lure me into traps like a spider with its webs. Like a snake in the grass. A woman who will destroy my life and all the progress I have made. A woman who is materialistic and doesn’t care about me. I need a femme fatale to use me and dispose of me like garbage in a dumping site. I need a femme fatale to use me for sex and all her deep-rooted insecurities and issues. I want Satan in her red bottom heels and Louis Vuitton handbag. I want Satan with all her glory and greatness. I want her to torment me, haunt me, possess me, punish and decapitate my prospects. I want a femme fatale with her make-up and kayfabe. I want her drama and co-ordinated chaos. A woman who is an egotistical narcissistic, a woman whose ambition is to destroy me.

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Our tits, my son

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Our tits, my son.

My son got born earlier in the morning and I am ecstatic. He is a gift from my ancestors and the Universe. I treasure him. He is my gold in a world that’s been digitized; valuable, tangible, priceless. It’s like falling in love for the first time, I am in la, la, land, heaven, a place of pure bliss devoid of the construct of time. I’ve never felt love quite like this, it’s like I am floating on butterflies through the clouds of the light blue sky. He makes me believe in miracles. There is a God, – he is proof, a blessing. I am thankful and grateful for this opportunity. I will teach him everything I know with an open heart and a lot of love. I will guide him. Help strengthen him to make sure he is the great man destiny intended. I’ll teach him about business and wealth creation. I was lucky I was broke and built an empire out of nothing. Being broke is experiencing your own mortality, it is being vulnerable and helpless to effect change or influence outside stimuli, that’s why I worked so hard to be rich, to have the illusion of immortality, to be invincible. You’ll be invincible from the start, girls are going to be sending you pictures captioned “you could tear this up”- I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. I’ll teach him about the importance of having an inner scorecard and not one based on external factors. Don’t claim to be anyone you’re not. Love yourself unconditionally. Respect everyone and beware of placing too much value on material things because they end up owning you, depriving you of your peace and happiness. When you say you are going to do something, do it, no excuses, be a man of your word my son. I’ll teach him about girls and women. True, they are an enigma and I don’t know much about their motivations and thought patterns. They are truly a strange species, unpredictable, highly volitile, sometimes unstable, frightening and devastating like a natural disaster. They are difficult to assess and understand, maybe they really are from Venus and us from Mars, it would certainly explain why it’s inhospitable for man; too much chaos presided, women can’t co-exist with one another and I don’t mean to boast but man is returning to Mars. Mars is a great place filled giant screens that showcase football and other sports daily, the home of Elon Musk, Richard Branson and Jeff Bezos, a place of sport cars and super sleek, fast Teslas, pool tables, infinite alcohol and drugs, no tough decisions, no responsibilities and no circumstances. A place of Goodfellas like Scorsese and De Niro but no death, just collaboration, a brotherhood and positive energy.

But in planet Earth, women are useful as you will soon experience. For one they register and process large quantities of data faster and more efficiently. This is important in the matters of life and death, you need a strong counsel. The trick is just to love and accept them as they are, don’t try to understand them or assert your will on them, understand that disaster might strike at anytime and accept reality for what it is – I think that’s what God intended. Just love them because even with all their uncertainties, they are the most valuable species in the whole Universe, they make life worthwhile, they are the nurturers of life. I’ll give you all the information I’ve attained from my interactions with them. I suggest you seek consultation from other wise men who will also share their experiences and knowledge, this will give you a more wholistic picture. I can’t guarantee concise data regarding women my son, no man can, we are from Mars and they are from Venus.

Of course, there’s this issue of the Oedipus Complex. I suspect there will be some hostility between me and you. You want to possess your mother (my woman) and you are rightly entitled to her. I won’t oppose you son, for the first few months, she is all yours. I will refrain from all acts of jealousy. I know you will appreciate those tits more than anything in the world. Your father is a genius, a visionary and I chose those tits for you. I qualified and discarded a lot of applicants for you to have those perfect tits. That’s my early gift to you because I love you so much. Enjoy them, take your time, don’t rush to get old, drive slow and enjoy the scenery and sensations. Those are our tits, my son, at least for now.

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Love you

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Love you.

I want to love you and treat you well. I want to build a home with you and start a family. I want to kiss all your troubles away and watch them dissipate like entropy. I want to be with you for a lifetime. I love you, you are my soul mate and in my heart I know I’ll never find better. You are my special gem, my Queen. You are my heart, the pulse of life that’s keeps me moving. You are my future, everything I yearn to be. You are my heaven, a place of bliss where everything makes sense. I love you. I know I am not perfect, I know I am heavily flawed but that’s why I need you, to make me better, to take care of me. I feel like Jerry Maguire, “you complete me”. You make me want to be a better person. You make me feel like I can fly. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I would go through hell to see you happy. I love you, let’s stay together.

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Faith

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Faith

If I could just see Faith just one last time. Yes, definitely in my top 5. I met her through a friend. Easily the greatest pass of all time. Thank you mpinch, I am eternally grateful. I really needed that pass. It was difficult with Faith. I never would have gotten that close to her without my boy. It was impossible. What made Faith a mission was the fact that she didn’t live in Gomora, she came here to visit her grandparents. She was a cheese-girl. She grew up here in Gomora and that’s how my boy knew her. When they were younger, they had this kids romance thing. I first saw Faith in 2010, I remember it was game day and Argentina was playing Nigeria. Argentina won courtesy of a Heinze header in the 6th minute. I wasn’t particularly impressed with that performance. Messi or Higuain didn’t score and I expected better. After the game I went out to get some air and there I saw her. It was as if time stopped for a while, everything proceeded in slow motion. It was like I was in a Scorsese movie looking at the girl of my dreams. She was absolutely perfect. She had a million dollar body. Great ass, good thigh to ass ratio. Flat stomach, she was fit like Serena Williams. Yellow bone in complexion. She had frickles on her face. That day she had just done her hair so she was brand new. She was a stunna! I remember looking at her and thinking “Nah, not today, Argentina had a bad game. Messi didn’t score. I can’t do anything today, I am useless”. Of course, I was rationalizing the whole situation. The truth is that heartburn set in and I didn’t think I’d be able to talk to her. What was I going to say to her? After that I always thought about her, thinking about how I missed a great chance and how I’d do anything for another chance. It was a while since I saw here again, I think I saw her again after a year. I was with my boy and it was like 8pm and we saw Faith walking with her friend. I flipped, I was like “Yoh mfana, here’s this girl again”. The showoff enquired “You mean her?” and I said “Yes, do you know her”. He said “Sure, follow me.” I couldn’t believe my luck. We approached the two girls and hey what do you know he did know her. We talked and we exchanged names. Mxit was a dying technology but I knew that I’d be able to get Faith’s number indirectly through that medium. So I asked and she gave it to me. I also asked her friends number for some diversion. The whole interaction needed to be neutral. I deleted the friends number when I got home and started work on Faith. We started chatting on Mxit and it was good for a while, so we took things to the next level and went to Whatsapp. I am really not a social media guy so it was all for her. I asked to see her in the flesh and I told her that I liked her and gradually things started happening. We spent a lot of time together when she came visiting. She made my heart beat like bass. We would go on dates. It was great. On the second date I screwed up, I don’t know why I did that. I kept talking about this girl I had a crush on in Primary who attended school with her. The girl I was referring to was a stunna and Faith knew her even though she down played it. Next thing I heard was how she didn’t like how I spoke because used a lot of “Tsotsi taal” in my language like “Why don’t you speak properly?”. I was confused but I realized I was trouble like “that’s how I talk, I can’t change”. She hinted I was too ghetto for her. She started drifting away from me. The more she pulled back, the more I advanced. It didn’t look good. I came across as needy and insecure. I ended up letting her go. Lesson learned never talk about another girl when you are with a prospective. It’s a simple one, I don’t know how I missed that one. I wanted to make her insecure, it backfired; a fools failed attempt. I did some Introspection. Man, Faith was great, she was beautiful, smart, had a great sense of humor, banging body and her laugh was incredible. She made me feel like Superman every time she laughed at my jokes. She was top quality.

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Avoid stepping into a great man’s shoes

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Avoid stepping into a great man’s shoes.

A good friend of mine came to me because he needed some advice. I thought “Oh, okay”. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to assist because I am not the advice type. However, I am a good listener so I was pretty sure we could come up with a solution. To assist someone who needs advice, I often use the Socratic method, that is help using framing questions, this way you think that you came up with the situation on your own because you thought for yourself. It is effective because this way no judgments are cast and you don’t give awful advice. The truth is that we already know what to do and often times we just need validation from the outside world. The art of giving good advice is getting the other person to lay out all his cards and ask questions. This way the other person is reflective and your job is done. Don’t say what you think because that’s not what the other person needs, plus your judgment is flawed in any case because you are biased and are projecting – this is not about you.

I listened. He told me about how his in love with this girl whose with this other guy but it doesn’t really matter because the girl loves him and not the guy. A love triangle, I thought. He was in trouble because there’s a power struggle in this dynamic and only one person won, the one on the top. But I didn’t say this out loud, I just merely asked “How do you know that this girl loves you?”. He responded “I just know it. I see it in her eyes. We love each other, it’s always been that way. I retorted, “how do you know?”. Finally he responded “she told me so”. I shook my head not convinced. I then asked “how many years has she been with this guy?”. He responded “About 6 years”. I let that sink in a bit and there was silence for a bit. But in my mind I thought this is a irrevocable case and an attachment style has been established. His not just fighting a mutual understanding, his fighting routines and habits, poor fellow is deluded. He filled it up by saying “But it hasn’t been a smooth 6 years and they sometimes had bad fights and separated”, I responded “Everyone has a bad patch” and he countered “Yes, but not like this, he slapped her, he beats her and his a cheat”. I responded “Okay”. I continued “What do you think of doing?”. He responded “I want to get her”. I inquired “Why don’t you?”. He responded “Because of this guy”. Confused, I asked “Why? Do you know him?”. He responded, “Yes, his close”. And so I recapped his story for him like; “She loves you even though she’s still with her partner of 6 years. She’s the object of desire in this pyramid and everyone is familiar with one another?”. I stopped and the room was quiet for a while. Then he broke the silence and asked “Why doesn’t she leave him?” he was thoughtful. I remained quiet. He put me on the spot and asked what I’d do. I wanted to be neutral so I spoke about the other guy and how I respected his 6 years. To deflect the question I made a joke saying “Avoid stepping into a great man’s shoes”, that statement hit him like a snipper on the rooftop. Sorrowfully, he murmured “She’s not my girl”. I felt bad. I rolled a joint and we smoked. It was 6pm and the streets were flooded with people from work, it was peak time, prime time and Avanzas were filled to the brim on the Johnbrant street from Pan African Mall. We just sat by the side of the road and witnessed life, we were silent, we saw beautiful women walking, we saw girls who were too young but had a lot of potential, we saw children in their school uniforms walking home, we saw kids with their friends, we saw men in their overalls and boots who carried their lunch bags, just on the other street a couple of boys were playing soccer and there were roars of youthful energy, the atmosphere was vibey and busy, bells from cars and laughs from people was all we heard, cigarettes were selling like an IPO, it was beautiful and we both appreciated the scenery. Life was normal. Life was happy. Despite the cold truth, it was still a good day.

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Nudes

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Nudes

Senses are an amazing thing for a human being. They color in the world, give it textures and sensations, they give it ordour and imagination. Senses make the world real. Imagine if we couldn’t touch, taste, smell, hear and see. What would our world be like? The world is a beautiful feeling process and then we die. Everything is governed by our emotions, they dictate our course of life. I have this girl who nearly short circuited my mind. Feel good chemicals like dopamine and serotonin were induced in a radical way. Adrenaline spiked up, I could feel my blood transmitting in the body and in no time I was errect like the Effel tower. My emotions were hijacked by what I saw and heard on my screen. It was euphoric and I couldn’t think straight. I was blinded and deaf to everything besides my phone. She captivated me and held my attention like a new born baby but she could drop it, it wasn’t about morality she was just a tease, a tease who made me contemplate about all the things I wanted to do to her. Some of these things weren’t ethical but that was her plan, to make me crazy and out of bound with reality. She hypnotized me like Charcot with her movements. They were slow and gradual like premeditated murder. She left everything to the imagination, undressing one item at a time. I was locked in a trance of her swaying body that swinged like a pendulum, completely sugestable like a MK Ultra patient. I was a blank screen attuned to her like a satellite and I could see her crystal clear as she stood next to the camera completely nude and exposed. She started touching herself, it was slow and rhythmic. She touched her boobs that were so rich in details in a circular motion and squeezed moaning like a detained prisoner. She was sexy and it was a show for me. She gave me goosebumps. She went downtown and began exploring like a voyager. She located the most sensitive arsenal in her body, the clit which has over eight thousand nerve endings, it was a button that could make her erupt like a volcano. And so she pressed multiple times and stimulated it, she got hot between her thighs and started calling out my name repeatedly. Damn! I went crazy, I exploded like Hiroshima! The sight of her and her voice calling out my name, moaning and groaning initiated a change in my physiology. My eyes popped out of my eye sockets and my ears were like satellites. My attention to my phone was akin to a neurosurgeon. My palms became sweaty and my existence was heightened. I was alive, horny and present. It was torture because I was on the other side of the world watching like a bystander on the street. Even with a loaded pistol I couldn’t do anything. All I wanted to do was to have her in my arms, to please her, to reunite her with the God’s but it was all in vain. Reality hit me like a sniper on the roof and my excitement was dead like JFK. Consciousness took control and I willed myself to close the video she had sent me. Although I watched 97% of it. The blood in my body started getting cold and my cock went flaccid. I scrolled down all the nudes she sent me, it was a sad reality.

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Lotus Flower Bomb

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Lotus flower bomb!

I am repressed. My subconscious thoughts are dictating my life. Of course, this is about a woman. The feminine energy rules the world because it is fundamental, it’s energy conceives and creates. The masculine energy can of course excert itself but I feel it’s in vain because behind every great man is a woman. Man has an unconscious urge to please woman. This energy makes man greater. It is life defining. Man is nothing without woman. This is illustrated on the Bible with the tale of Adam and Eve. Eve gives Adam the apple so that he can be conscious, how beautiful is that? How beautiful is woman? You know a creator exists because woman exists, what a gift for man! Damn! I love girls, girls, girls, girls, girls, girls I do adore! Thank you Jigga, for bringing that into the world. But I also understand why women were suppressed for so long. I understand why they didn’t have rights. I understand why their roles were reduced to housewife. Imagine a woman who understands her self-worth, one who is intelligent, opinionated and has dreams, dreams she will one day conquer. Damn! I think I am erect. Don’t you think that’s dangerous? Don’t you think that’s powerful? Women already run the world unconsciously and if you give them tools and resources they will take over the universe. And so I understand the fear eminating from the masculine point of view. How could I not? I am masculine and well feminine is powerful. Feminine is dangerous. It is chaotic like abstract art on a canvas. It is beautiful. Feminine energy defines the world, it gives it meaning and substance. Feminine energy makes life worthwhile. And so I am in this boat ruminating about this feminine species that drives me absolutely crazy. She is the manifestation of my wildest dreams. Damn! She is impressive. Hey Kanye, congratulations on your work with “My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy” it is an absolute classic. What happened there? My goodness, you truly are a genius, a creative of the highest order. Better than Steve Jobs, wait can I say that? Okay, let me rather say in my top 5 with Steve Jobs. But I digress. My mind takes me places sometimes and I can’t understand the flights of my thoughts but everything eventually connects. I was talking about this girl who drives me wild. I am planning on being sexual so brace yourself.

I don’t want to bore anyone with the details of her life so I will start with the day where she illuminated the world for me. Of course she was always hot and impressive. But on this day I was thinking about her. I had premeditated motives. I wanted her. I wanted her body. I wanted to bring her to my room and have my way with her. It wasn’t the first time I had these thoughts about her. Thoughts of absolute possession. Thoughts of pleasing her with a cascade of pleasure. All I could visualize was her perfect body, her natural perfect boobs that have so much detail in them, I am talking veins and succulent nipples. All I could think about was descending to her lotus flower bomb! Great work Wale. All I could think about was pleasing her, making her scream with delight, making her orgasm like fireworks in the sky, all I could think of was fulfilling her in every way. She haunted my conscious reality. All I could smell was her, all I could see were her lips and kissing her would give me so much pleasure. Kissing all of her being, kissing her lips, her neck, her shoulders, her boobs, her stomach, her thighs and her lotus flower bomb! Explosive we would be in bed. Missionary is good but I’ve got variety, there isn’t any style that we wouldn’t explore, I am talking Kama Sutra and the art of eroticism. I had so much imagination and she stared in every production. She was the girl I wanted desperately. I wanted to be in her, to penetrate her. Damn! What I would do to have a night with her. Permission and seduction is such a bore. I understand the impulse of the rapist. He won’t wait for all of that and I respect that. When I saw her that day the top of my head nearly fell on the ground. It was like the Universe was playing a trick on me. My mind couldn’t comprehend her level of hotness. Her level of hotness was on steroids, the scale was tipped, her energy had spikes, she was incredible! I am talking make-up, hair, apparel EVERYTHING! She has natural hair and well, I am a sucker for natural hair. It is a deadly weakness that leaves me on my knees drooling. Natural hair is the most beautiful thing on a woman especially if it’s well taken care off. On this day she wore a black dress, it reached before her knees. It complimented all her body features. She was incredible! All I could see was her yellow thighs. Damn! All those premeditated thoughts came rushing in like a packed train. I don’t know why the Universe sometimes does this to me, but okay, I accept and I am grateful for the experience. I was at the mercy of her, I was weak and there was nothing I could do. Her energy was too strong for me and my subconscious mind was in control, controlled by the unconscious mind driven by the feminine energy, I was bewitched, under a trance and at that moment there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her including wrapping the world and giving it to her, and because I am not a rapist, I am writing this instead.

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Lady Siren (Marilyn Monroe)

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Lady Siren (Marilyn Monroe)

She had everything. I was drawn to her like a moth to the light. She was mythical and beautiful like the 8 wonders of the world. She was alluring and ungraspable like water. She flowed straight into my structure of being. She mesmerized me and left me thinking of what could be. She hijacked my rational faculties and left my body in comatose – paralyzed and enslaved by her voice, it wasn’t that it was angelic but rather that it had a certain quality that bypassed my conscious mind. She spoke in a tone that was poised and almost tired, it was low pitched and effortless, almost resigned with a hint of would you like a Fellatio? Her eyes were suggestive and inquisitive. It was as if they wanted to know your dirtiest fantasies and part-take in them, as the leading lady – they demanded that credit, demanded to be the star, demanded to control and possess your body like a demon. Her posture, how she stood was a wet dream. She was phallic, completely erected on the ground like the Eiffel tower. A sight to see, there was no one quite like; her she commanded attention! Her walk was the stuff of legends. It was peculiar and affirmed in a way that made her a star on the runway. She was the brightest star in a universe filled with hydrogen and helium – explosive and her body was the bomb! She had the best boobs in the world – not that I have seen them but I have thought and fantasied about them. Not quite your watermelons but matured coconuts in the Savannah. Firm coconuts. Coconuts that can fit in your hands. Coconuts that can make all your dreams come true. The type of coconuts that had my mind spinning out of control – she was dangerous and she came with a label like tobacco. Addictive, I couldn’t help thinking about her and all her features. I was whipped a slave, confined within the looped structure of my brain. She was a sex symbol that I wanted to possess, every inch of her body I wanted my lips to touch, every organism would elect me in the realm of the gods – gratifying her sexual desires would be my purpose in life. She was a goddess, a work of mastery like Leonardo Da Vinci’s “Mona Lisa”, cavorted and renowned like the soccer World Cup and as such only cunnilingus will do anointed and knighted by the serpent in the bible. She was dangerous. Purposely stringing me along to hang myself. The more I chased, the more I lost control. The more I attached myself, the more she detached herself – a strategic, calculated ploy on her side. She was cold, whenever I told myself I was done, she would open her legs from a far provoking themes and images of heaven; it never occurred to me that it was just illusions. She was my escape, my ultimate fantasy. She represented a total release. She transported me to a realm of pure bliss and pleasure. She was a siren – striking and loud! An entity you cannot ignore but also subtle and indirect in a way that she made me fill in the blanks. Sure, I was repressed but she was better. She is an intelligent human being. She is my African Cleopatra, my Marilyn Monroe, she resembles Lucifer and acquainted me with the beautiful feeling of suffering, she taught me about love and projections – she is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I love her; My Marilyn Monroe.

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