Wednesday, August 26, 2009

A Night Out- a tale of erotica

Not even when you came out of your bedroom, in your new, sexy outfit, did I have thoughts of what would eventually go down. Sure, the silk sat on your curves, only the curves of a "sista." Of course, I had to be impressively handsome for you, in my silk button-down and crisp jeans. As we had dinner, I noticed how smoky your eyes were done, and how perfect your silky, black hair was laying on your shoulders. It framed your face like it was a Picasso. I tried, really tried not to let you catch me staring at your lips. But, they were full, smooth, and glowing from your expertly applied gloss. Thank goodness, we finished eating...

I'm glad you understood that I don't really like clubs. I knew you might dig this jazz lounge we were going to. As we drove, my peripheral caught a glimpse of thigh, peeking out from the slit in your dress. You didn't know, but that's why I concentrated on keeping my eyes on the road.

As we had drinks at our table, you laughed at my bad jokes, while I got lost in your smile and those cocoa brown eyes. I hung on your every word, if only because your voice was music to me...better than the works of Dizzy, Bird, and Marsalis wafting through the smoke and noise. All of those were rendered irrelevant by your presence.

I stood, and extended my hand. You gave me the sexiest, knowing smile I had seen in my life. The way your fingers interlocked with mine, gave me a clue that this may not be the typical dance. I made sure I didn't hold you too close at first, for fear of being too forward. But, as the horns and strings and keys caressed our ears and our spirits, we gravitated. You fit so well, as we pressed against each other. I'm sure you felt "me." Why did you have to wear a backless dress? Running my hand over the smooth skin almost got me high...

I barely noticed that the song was over. I looked in your eyes again, and my knees almost buckled from they way they looked at me. We danced more, and I was becoming addicted to having my arms around you. From the way you laid your head on my chest, it seemed you could get used to it, as well. I don't think we broke contact too much, the rest of the time...

Being the gentleman, I get you home at a decent hour. After saying our salutations, the awkward moment was upon us: the "goodnight kiss." wasn't awkward for us. Strangely, it felt very right. A peck on the lips quickly evolved into a deep, passionate wet union of our mouths. You pulled me into you so tight, as if we were going to melt into each other. I held you just as tight, as if this would be the last time I ever saw you. The feeling of your curves in my hands, and your heaving breasts pressing against me, put me in almost a frenzy!

We stumble inside the door, still holding onto each other for dear life, while tasting each other's lips, necks, and earlobes. You had a little trouble unbuttoning my shirt. So, me being the gentleman, I helped you rip it open. As I heard the "click-clack" of the buttons hitting the floor, I peeled your dress off your shoulders, and slid it down to the floor, making stops to taste your breasts, stomach and thighs, on the way down.

We were still somewhat sweaty from all the dancing. But, you still smelled so sweet. On the way back up, after you stepped out the pile that was your dress, my arms coiled around your thighs like pythons. I lifted you, and you wrapped your legs around my waist, while we kissed a primal, savage kiss. I laid you on the bed, and traced a map, between those round, firm breasts, down the middle of your stomach, and made a slight detour to enjoy the taste of your inner thigh. I then kissed and nibbled my way back up, and felt the humid heat of your womanhood against my face.

I savored the taste of you, exploring every fold and crevice, with my tongue. Your sweet-sounding gasps, and the arch in your back told me where I should focus on. And I did. My only goal in life, at that moment...was pleasing you. Your breathing got more shallow, as your hand gripped the top of my head. I could feel the tips of your nails as you struggled not to dig them into my scalp. All of a sudden my hearing was muffled. The squeezing of your thighs was so, that my ears were covered.

I felt your hands pull up on my shoulders. I didn't catch it at first. But, your whispers of "Please" let me know what to do. I kissed my way back up your moist body, and my manhood got a touch of your now-hot softness. I let the swollen head lay on your pearl and outer lips for a few seconds, feeling the slick wetness. But, not too long, for teasing you would be torturing myself.

We both let out a gasp and a moan, as I entered you. Slowly, and with care, I stroked in and out, while your hips reciprocated, in kind. We were dancing again, and were joined as one. Your moans and whispers in my ear, as well as feeling your breath from such, turned me on even more, and put me into overdrive.

I stopped and you wondered why. I want you on top, so I can feel every bit of the warm haven that had become "home" to my smooth shaft... We seamlessly rolled over, with no need for re-entry. Your full breasts swung to and fro, and I made a little game of trying to catch one with my mouth. I won, as you rose and descended on me. All of a sudden, I felt the beginnings of a pleasurable wave, growing in magnitude. I pulled you down, and gripped the back of your neck and one of those round, smooth buttocks. You held me so tight, and your nails buried themselves into the flesh on my shoulders as we erupted, like a volcano of ecstasy. At that moment, I felt a sensation of euphoria, as my endorphins flooded my brain.

We fell asleep in a sweaty heap, with me still inside of you. I woke up, a few hours later, and got a warm cloth and gently wiped you down, as I tasted those lips once more. Is this the last time? I don't know. But, for these few hours, everything was right in the world...

Saturday, August 15, 2009 for you.

I can't plan when I write. It just comes out of my brain, runs to my fingertips, and makes sparks on my keyboard... I was feeling poetic, so this is what the result is.

by ThugRockStar

I found a strand of your hair on my shirt today.
How do I know it's yours? No one else can get as close to me.
That single strand of dark, pretty hair inspires flashes in my mind
of your lovely ebony beautiful ways.

First thing I thought of was when we last embraced.
The way you just "fit" me, and I never felt more like your protector.
The way you laid your head on my chest,
made me want to protect you that much more.

I found one of your earrings on my sofa, the other day.
No, silly. I know you didn't leave it there on purpose.
You don't need to "mark your territory"
I'm yours only, at the end of the day.

First thing I thought of, was how you laid on me
while we watched that movie.
I didn't care that it was a "chick flick."
I was good with being you, me...we.

I found one of your blouses in my room, last night,
When I picked it up to fold it, the faint aroma of your perfume
made me have a vision of one night...
I was surprised you dug that "thing" we did...

It's amazing how the simplest things
make me think of you.

No one else can get as close to me.

Friday, August 14, 2009

Home Improvement For The Brothas: one Sista's perspective.

A while ago, I wrote "Home Improvement For The Sistas", a snapshot into what the sistas can do to help us men be better men. I anticipated resistance/rebuttal from the ladies. I was pleasantly surprised with praise and support. I did get requests for what the brothas can do to help the sistas help us. Ladies are complex creatures that I am still endeavoring to truly understand, so I went and got a female point of view. Ladies & Gents, I give you the sexy, HIGHLY intelligent (and my partner in cerebral assassination) Anette, also known as @HotSexyBiscuits, on Twitter. Check out some more of her outstanding posts at Take it away, Anette...

Segue to female voice...

Now my boy, ThugRock, gave some key points for the sistas to chew up and digest and apply to their lives in regards to the male perspective on relationships but I want to break a few down for the fellas, if ya’ll would allow me to massage your frontal lobes for a second. Is that alright? Ok then, here we go -

1. We can handle the truth, can YOU handle our response to it? Women can handle the truth just fine from the gate. If you tell us the deal from day one then allow US to decide if we want to take on the task of whatever your truth is ( 3 baby mamas, no job, live with your mama, no car, rap career hasn’t taken off yet and work at KFC, etc.) then you put the ball in our court. Sure, sure, if you lie this will prolong all the glorious sex you could have with her until she finds out the truth but in all honesty, the drama that will follow it will suck for both of you. You know you don’t really want to deal with the rain of phone calls, text messages and the other drama that comes with some women feeling betrayed because you didn’t come out with it in the beginning. You may act like it doesn’t bother you to keep sending the calls to voicemail and deleting texts but you know it does and so do we.There are some women who will say they are cool with the truth then flip later on. With women like that you have to watch for the signs: If she starts asking you questions about who you are with all the time, checking your cell phone call list or trying to hack your Myspace page password, chances are she ain’t cool with it at all. Women like that may say they are cool but in reality are thinking “Oh I can change him to my way of thinking, just give me time”. If you find out that is the case, SHUT IT DOWN. Period, no negotiations. You see the train wreck coming down the track, move out the way. So what the sex may be good, good sex is relative in that respect if you’ve already gone down that road but make the U turn quick before you’ve gone too far to prevent the drama. A real woman knows you can’t change a grown man, just as you can’t change a grown woman. If a woman knows what the deal is with you up front, it saves her time frominvesting feelings in you, gives us the proper perspective of what the relationship could really be (friends/lovers/booty call) and saves her $10 bucks on the gasoline she’d buy for setting your crib on fire when she finds out you lied to her. Just be open with it up front, if she isn’t interested, brush ya shoulders off and keep it moving. Help us help you.

2. You date women of other races because ‘you don't feel we are submissive enough, we have too much attitude and won’t be a freak in bedroom’. If you don’t get anything else I say get this: some black women are freaks in the bedroom to the RIGHT man. If she hasn’t been one to you, chances are you ARE NOT him. People have had misconceptions about this that go way back to slavery. A person’s melanin level or lack thereof has nothing to do with her attitude, her ability to listen to her man or if she’s down for whatever sexually. Sure there are some women who are just loud for no good reason, combative just for the sake of a good fight and just won’t do anything but be selfish sexually. This is only a small percentage of the women out there. Just because she doesn’t advertise how she is in the bedroom or at first seems to question what you are about and even may be a bit of a firecracker, if love happens, sometimes she will mellow out(at least towards you, anyway). You have to earn our respect to heed what you say, you have to show us you aren’t going to sail our relationship/family boat into the rocks. If you prove you are the head, we will take our place by your side, not behind you. We aren’t meant to just accept everything you say, you should respect a woman who will challenge how you view the world, you both can grow that way. You don’t make executive decisions in a relationship, you come to conclusions together. As far as the sex is concerned, again, all women are different regardless of color. If she feels a comfort level with you, this opens up the door to the things you can do. You must do what it takes to make that happen if that is what you desire. You can have the lady in public and the freak in the bedroom. There are more undercover freaks out there than you can even imagine. Act accordingly and you may find one.

3. We are independent women, however this does not mean we don’t want you. I love Ne Yo’s song 'Miss Independent' and you should too, if you take it for the real point behind it. We have our own money, jobs, homes and all that however all this means is that we don’t need you. This has nothing to do with us wanting a man. Now some women may take this out of context but I’m not talking to them right now, I’m talking to you. WANTING a man means you desire his companionship, his conversation, his insight, his strength, his heart and his love. NEEDING a man means you need his money, his credit, his car, his cash and all the material things he has. Sometimes it’s harder to get close to women who are fully self sufficient because we will throw you the side eye quick for the same reasons a successful man would: ‘what do you want, me or my money?’ Not all of us want to compete with you. We are just used to running the show in our families,especially if we are single moms. Give us the space to grow to trust you and in time we will allow you to be the head of the household if all is meant to be. Relationships are about knowing that both of us contribute certain things to the table. You have your role and we have ours. You may be the head but we are the backbone. Neither of us can survive without the other. Learning to be ‘We’ when you’ve been ‘Me’ for so long takes some time to adjust to. Bear with us.

4. Just because the last woman couldn’t see your potential doesn’t mean the next woman should have to pay for her lack of vision. Don’t assume that because your ex thought your dreams weren’t worth anything that all women are the same way and should be treated as such. We want to have your back and to be that ride or die chick you want us to be, however you have to show us that you are truly doing something with your potential. At some point you need to put your career as a rapper in the hobby section of your life (at least until it actually takes off) and get a day job to pay the bills. If you have been in the studio recording your demo for the past 10 years, we are going to look at you a little suspect. We look to you for security and if you keep jumping from career to career it makes us nervous that you can’t provide for the family as well as puts us in survival mode (i.e., Independent Woman flag alert). We don’t have a problem sacrificing for the family temporarily (we work while you go to school) so you can help provide a better future for us. If we feel like we are partners with you for a common goal for the greater good of the family, in lean times we’ll eat top ramen and hotdogs because we know at some point we’ll have steak and lobster. We have thoughts of you pulling a Waiting to Exhale on us (we sacrifice, you gain then leave us for another woman) however if you make it clear it’s all about you and her and your family, all will be well. Be realistic with your goals, let us see that you are working towards achieving them and we will be the Bonnie to your Clyde, no doubt.

We all know relationships are hard work but what we all must understand is that we are all molded by our past experiences. We’ve all had less than positive relationships and if we all wipe the slates clean, treat each person as an individual and not as a representative of their gender as a whole and not as someone who deserves to deal with our past baggage or clean up the last person’s mess, we would all fare much better. Instead of thinking outside the box, live life as if there is no box. She is an individual and so are you. We can only take responsibility for the mistakes we make as who we are and not for anyone elses.

"A woman's heart should be so hidden in Christ that a man should have to seek Him first to find her." Maya Angelou

Sunday, August 9, 2009


Now, y'all know I never, EVER post on the weekends. But, today warrants such a momentous occasion. I'm a supervisor at a retail distribution center. I was out sick yesterday. So, I go back today and realize I may be able to skate out early. Good start, right?

It turned sour in a hurry...

We have a meeting with our people, every morning, to give out the assignments, read off safety numbers, and any other pertinent info that our people can use. Usually, this goes off without a hitch, with me even injecting a little humor. Y'all know how I am.

Today, was VERY different. I was just about to part my lips to say, "Let's have a safe & productive day!", when one of my associates says loudly and sharply, "Can we go 'head and stretch, so I can get to work???" You think I went off? You do. It's OK, you've seen my rants on Twitter. But, no. I kept my cool, until after we stretched.

I approached the offender, discreetly to tell him I needed to see him for a sidebar discussion, as I knew something was going on with him. He's a great worker, so I was just gonna let him know that he could confide in me, if indeed he had a problem. As I approach, he gets loud AGAIN! "Can I talk to my dude, here? Back up off me!" REALLY!? Mind you, MY boss is standing no more than 15 feet away. Great support there, Boss... I've been in leadership positions most of my life, even as a kid. So, being the unflappable quarterback, again...I stayed calm and let him finish his little convo, while giving him the "you know it's about to go down, don't you" look.

I pull him to the side, and ask, "What's goin' on with you, brah? You're out of your character and in your feelings. This ain't you." He tells me he was "just ready to get to work" and didn't feel like all the info distributed, wasn't necessary. I told him it's not just for him, and that going forward, he's going to have problems, if he's going to act like that. I gave him more than a fair shot, right? So, he half-heartedly says he understands, and I turn him loose to go on about his work.

An hour later, I start to notice that 3 different times, this cat is stopped, talking to other associates. I approach again, and tell him, "Dude, I understood what you were saying about wanting to get to work. What I need you to help me understand is, how you gone get it done, when every time I look up, you're chillin'?" "I'm just talkin'. We all do a little bit of talkin'." Understandable. I don't crack the whip, like that. Usually, I don't have to. I got a great crew. Arguably, the best in the building. I reply, "You were the one that wanted so bad to get your work done that you felt like you had to be disrespectful. Remember, you ain't for all that talking..." Now, I probably shouldn't have said that, and just went on and hit him with paperwork. I know that's what a lot of you will say. But, even though my gears were grinding, something inside told me that wasn't going to solve the issue.

I go to lunch, so I can breathe and get right. Otherwise, we likely both lose our jobs today. In a recession, that wouldn't be a good look. I'm sitting outside, so I can vent, via Twitter. Dude walks up on me, and I continue tweeting. He says, "Man, I just wanna apologize. I know what I said was disrespectful. I got some things going on at home."

Me: "I accept that and appreciate the fact that you stepped to me, like a man, and accepted your responsibility in the matter." I continue tweeting.

Him: "I don't blame you, if you write me up."

Me: "Hey, you gotta eat that one, brah. You still good with me."

I don't know why, but a lot of cats wanted to talk slick today. I had to handle another supervisor, in a meeting. I tried to help this fool. I'll tell y'all about that one tomorrow, or Tuesday...

By the way, notice I kept the same song for this one...

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Cyber-Thuggin'...for WHAT???

It's no secret that this blog caters mainly to those with a Twitter account. Unless some of y'all have told others about it, Twitterers are the main ones who read my rantings. That's cool, because I value you guys as readers, and I value your feedback. So, what I post here comes as no surprise to you.

As you all know, a popular sport on Twitter is called "going in" on people. This consists of "clowning", or ridiculing another person. More often than not, this is done in a mean-spirited fashion. There are people who do this all day, EVERY day. What I need to understand is, what the objective is behind this. I'm asking, "What is your objective, as a result of choosing someone at random, and picking a virtual fight?" Someone, please help me with this...

I can think of a few theories as to the motivation of these "net bangers" or "cyber-thugs."

1. These people have been victimized, on the net, or in real life. They are determined that "nobody is gonna EVER mess with me again." My reply to this: Get your self-esteem weight up, son. Making others' internet experience miserable is STILL not going to improve the quality of your life. You have to do that for the real world.

2. They think that somehow, they're going to be "famous." I don't know of one celebrity that has gotten their foot in the door from sitting at a keyboard and taking shots, gossip bloggers notwithstanding. Even they do legwork and lots of research/fact-checking. So keep waiting for that Hollywood knock at your door...just don't hold your breath while waiting.

3. They simply have nothing else to offer. They don't know about anything relevant. They may be incapable of stimulating conversation. This is how they avoid being the virtual "wallflower." In my experience (coming up on 10 years) online, most of the people I've come across are very well-rounded. They can bring the funny AND flip it with a highly intellectual discussion. The "bangers" don't feel they are on that level. Hell, most of them can't spell worth a damn.

So, net-Bloods, net-Crips, or whatever net-set you're claiming...we see what it is with you. I see what it is. I've seen your weaknesses. You are just like the people you victimize. You're just like the majority of people online. You're creating an image, a persona. But, it's like any sport. There is always someone out there hungry for "the title." They're angrier, funnier, and just plain BETTER than you at net-banging.

It's only a matter of time before you take that huge "L." It happens to all of them. I just hope your ego can recover, when it happens...

Real talk, you hear these stories about people committing suicide after being "bullied" online. I pray that we won't need to have a "moment of tweet silence" for someone, all because you had to be the "King", "Queen", or "Champion" online.

Make sure you send me a pic of the check and/or the trophy you get for what you do...

"Go in" on me, if you must. Bring a lunch. It's gonna be a long day. You gotta bring ass to get ass... *Deuces*

Once again...