For your listening pleasure…

I haven’t been sleeping well lately.

It seems all night I fight with my covers and my thoughts. It’s cold. It’s hot. Stop thinking. You can’t do anything about that. But what if… what if….

And I settle down, covers barely covering my feet. My nightie barely covering my goodies. My head resting on my folded arm, a pillow clutched between my legs. I’m so tense. I just wish. I’m wishing you…you…would come through.

I call you and you don’t miss a beat. “I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

Just enough time for me to shower, put on a little lip gloss and some body spray and a pair of small stud earrings. I don’t wanna look like I prepared too much, but a little something something never hurt.

You arrive looking even more fly than I remember. You’ve been gone since November and honestly I haven’t really thought much about you. But as soon as you step through my door, I remember. I remember what made me want you in the beginning. That smile, that charm, that sweet spirit. You were always one of my biggest cheerleaders. Even when I began to feel ordinary, you faithfully reminded me that I was a rising star.

We sit. We chat. We sip on the wine coolers you brought me.

You’re tall. I’m short. You laugh. I stop. And turn to look at you. I bite my lip. You grin at me and pull me close. I’m wondering if, maybe this will be the time. Will you be the one to light my fire?

I know I said I don’t give second chances. And the reason you hadn’t seen me in months was because, well, you remember how you messed up. But I won’t bring that up. Like the King who granted Esther her wish, I give you a reprieve. What will you do with it?

I giggle as I feel fingertips brush my neck. They dance along my spine. The tension in my body is overwhelming. I hold my breath, wondering if you can tell, although I’m sexy as hell, I don’t get it often. Maybe four times a year, if I’m lucky. Yeah I’m picky. So in order to get me going, it’s gonna take a minute.

A couple of kisses on my neck. I feel a tingle. A hand on my breast. Yeah, I’m warming up. A pop kiss and it’s so quick, I feel like I just kissed my son.

What the hell?

Is that your hand I see, illuminated by the light of the TV, reaching oh so slowly, into your pocket, how can I stop this? No you ain’t about to pull out that magnum.

Is this all I get?

I shake my head at you and frown. You smile and lie me down. I’m frustrated as hell, and like Halle my insides are screaming, “MAKE ME FEEL GOOD!” You poke, you prod. You push. You bang. But ultimately you can’t. You can’t move this train.

It’s over and I just want you to leave. “Damn that was good baby.” you say.

SHIIIT!

I’m left feeling as tense as I was when I called you. No wonder my hook-ups almost always turn into one night stands. No man has ever laid down some proper hands.

Honestly I can’t imagine a man who understands that there is more to lovemaking than puttin it in. My body is wound up so tightly, that nightly I have to make myself shiver just to feel a little release cuz any homeboy I call can’t give it to me.

Forget 12 Play, how about some 4 Play? Make me want you. Make me beg. Have me squirming before we even get to the bed. Notice my fingers. Notice my toes. Help me find my—–sweet spot.

See this skin. Feel how smooth. A little over 5 feet of unexplored territory. Come on Columbus, let’s make history.

Oh…I see. I guess not.

Maybe I’m just dreaming. I fantasize a lot. But something tells me there’s more. There should be much more.

~sigh~

I really, really hope there’s more.