Good Morning Loving

As I close my eyes, I can only envision the art of good morning loving. There’s nothing in this world more orgasmic than waking up beside the man I call my best and greatest friend, my lover like no other, my confidant, my companion … the mate to my soul. He’s my other half, because together we are better and apart we are stronger.

The art of good morning loving requires only two … two beings enriched with unrestricted love. Don’t get up now; just allow your bodies to connect. Your bare back is facing his unclothed body. The touch of his soft lips on your neck sends a strong electric current through your spine. His hands gently take a few first class trips to every known curve and crevice. Your facial expressions and body movements convey a lustful tale … your sexual breath and dramatized moan turns him on. He turns you around and looks deep into your soul causing your pupils to dilate. He interlocks his left hand with your right hand (it’s now against the pillow) … you decide to gently grab his hair with your free hand. He continues to look into your eyes as he travels down the center of your body with his slithery serpent (his tongue). Your heart pounds as he licks and sucks on your delicate and sensitive breasts, hips, and thighs. He reaches the motherland … the core of pleasure. He erotically massages your “lady tongue” with his serpent. You try to push him away, but his force is too mighty. He adores your moans and your groans … he stops. He slowly climbs on top of your trembling body. He kisses your lips … you welcome his tongue into your mouth (you taste your sweet nectar … your tantalizing juices). You close your eyes and utter a prayer to God, “Thank you Father for this man … he’s the man of my every want, my every need, and my every desire … Amen.”

He eases into your “majestic jewel” … your warmth causes convulsions (he loses self-control). He goes deeper … you both moan in unison. You feel drops of his sweat land on your protruding nipples. He goes deeper … you hear the echo of your moan. He goes even deeper … he wants to free his flow, but refuses to. He sucks on your ear lobe and whispers into your ear, “I want you to cum with me.” This shit turns you on … he finally unchains your inner orgasmic beast.

Bzzzzzzz! Damn! The 6:00am alarm (you set) squeals on your iPhone. You were almost there. To Be Continued …

When I awake from this daydream, I can only hope the universe releases this man, this powerful being into my reality. There’s nothing in this world more beguiling than good morning loving. You giving all of you … he’s giving all of him.

What to Expect as a Sexless Single Woman in Carolina

You read the title right!  No need to rub your eyes or scratch your head in confusion. I am happy to say that I am a sexless single woman. I shouldn’t profess it so bluntly, should I? … (clears throat) … I am a celibate single woman. Now, that sounds a bit more elegant and prude. Ha Ha! To be honest, I am proud to not spread my legs for the first guy who offers me a two piece snack deal or a biscuit without the honey. Hell, I am a vegetarian so widening my womb for chicken, pork, or steak is out the question.

Male and female friends of mine often ask the day old question, “How do you do it girl?” How? I tend to focus all of my attention on things that will bring value to my empire. Things that will increase my wealth. I’m sorry, one night of lust from a stranger will not add dinero (Ching Ching not Ding-a-Ling) into my checking account unless I am a high dollar prostitute willing to Flip it, Spin on it, Rock steady with it, or Drop it like it’s luke warm.

I don’t place sex at the forefront when meeting someone of the opposite sex. A guy of interest must be willing to carry on an intellectual conversation and converse via a phone conversation instead of texting slang every other day (Wyd, Hru, K, Y, GM)  I often respond with the following sequence of letters -> WTFAIWMT (Why The F-Bomb Am I Wasting My Time) only to get the infamous “?” (Question Mark).  LOL! Access Denied!

You can call me what you like. I refuse to lower my standards in an effort to change my status on social media from ‘Single” to “In a Relationship” only to change it to “It’s Complicated” the next week. You can call me old school or eldered. I still believe in courting (aka dating for the younger generation) before knocking the boots.


Dating is but a dream … Well, a NIGHTMARE!

As a young girl at a tender and preadolescent age, I always wanted to be an ethnic and beautiful princess with long flowing shiny black hair and slightly sun-kissed skin. Sort of like the Disney character, Princess Tiana from the animated film, The Princess and the Frog. I wanted to escape the immature and vulgar boys in grade school and ride happily ever after in a pink diamond encrusted carriage with my prince charming.

As I think about it (presently), my prince charming was like the perfect gentleman. The perfect partner that every girl (or woman) would often dream of (look at me now). He had a body like an overexposed jock, the scent of an Axe model (the pheromones would be electrifying), hair so perfectly molded that he used half a jar of Bed Head molding wax, and eyes like a Hawaiian sea at sunrise. Damn! If only day dreams were more than just a figment of the imagination or a mere escape from reality.

Now that I am 3 decades and several years old (coughs uncontrollably), nothing has truly changed in the imagination department. The boys that were once immature and displayed vulgar behavior are now living in men molds with the same adolescent mentality.

After my amicable divorce in 2012, I was forced to enter the dark age of dating again. Holy Shit! I thought I had somehow entered the land of the lost and never found (some men were and still are using their penis as a compass to find the land of va-jay-jay). This can not be real!

Fast Forward two years (inserts Back to the Future theme song) to my dismay, dating has become nothing more than a race to the bedroom with dirty funky sheets and leftover bodily fluids from the previous sexcapade. (Grabs my crotch in disgust). YUCK! No one has standards or respect anymore. Who do you blame? Men, Women, the Media, or Society as a whole? I’m still searching for the answer to this sought after question that seems to fade into an atmospheric cluster of debris.

Hooray! This is my first blog post! Look forward to candid interviews with other singles and couples, real life experiences (dating), and other dateless mumbo jumbo. This is going to be one hell of a ride ladies and gentlemen … buckle up for safety while I prepare to accelerate into the whirlwind of dating (dateless) in carolina.