my drUg!

Watching her breasts fall up and down as she inhales and exhales. Even her breathing turns me on…

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I always know when she is ready. Ours is a routine I know by heart, although I don’t even consider it a routine; it’s more of a rhythm that my body and senses instinctively adopts when she is around me. A reaction of some sort. I lose control of my head coordination with my body, and the trouble is, I don’t mind it. Having her here, looking at her silky smooth legs waiting, begging for my lips to kiss them. I harden a little more. I need to get out of these jeans, too constricting.

She always sits at the recliner chair next to the bed, facing the screen, leaning back against it, and in the process exposing her neck. I nervously shuffle in my seat. Watching her breasts fall up and down as she inhales and exhales. Even her breathing turns me on. I take a long puff and lean back on the bed, one hand unconsciously resting on my crotch. She looks at me from the side and licks her lips, which dries up even before she is done flicking so she does it again. She knows where my thoughts go when she does that, I have confessed before. I close my eyes as the image in my head overwhelms me and take a deep breath. I see her head poised just above my manhood with her tongue flicking playfully at the head the way she is doing to her lips, her eyes never losing contact with mine. She then bites her lower lip and crosses her legs, letting her skirt dip a little lower. Her hand snakes to pull it up but then just rests at the exposed skin, her smooth shining skin inviting my gaze. She then proceeds to make small circles with her fingers, moving slowly, her eyes on me the whole time, her lips glistening with a fresh wave of saliva and I lose it. I inhale deeply, trying unsuccessfully to get my heat heart under control. Am burning. But I will not give in. I sit up on the bed facing her and have another drag, I know how her lips will mould into mine. I anticipate how they will receive my advances with the same soft pressure that mine crave. How her eyes will close, unaware of it she might be, matching me stroke for stroke, giving as much as she receives, generously, and still probing. Leading. She likes to be in control and I don’t mind following her tempo. As soon as my hands make contact with her skin, her heat making me ache beyond belief, I willingly give in to her. I don’t want to be in control. Her pace is never rushed, each move calculated to entangle my senses in a web that I cannot will not fight. Am a willing prisoner. I go through my existence in a blur because my mind can’t grasp any detail when am not with her. I walk around having conversations with her in my head, listening to her laugh over and over in my head, feeling lost until the next time she is in my arms and it all make sense.

In that moment, I give all of me to her, for I would give it to no other. And when she reaches for my hand at her most vulnerable moment, right before her world explodes, I know am not alone in this boat. I squeeze her hand reassuringly and her hand squeezing mine back is the last straw. I let go with her. Spurts. Stars. Feeling and filling forever in a single minute and loving every instant, with all your nerves exploding in harmonious understanding of why they exist.

Hours later I watch her sleeping in the crook of my arm, thanking the stars for crisscrossing our paths. Being in her is not the climax for me; nor is it my lips exploring every inch of her body, licking, tasting, reaching into every dent, every crevice, wanting her whole being, her very essence to be absorbed into me. That is not the treasure for me, although it comes real close. My paragon comes in the form of her hand reaching for my hand; in the pressure of her hand squeezing mine back at our most connected moment. Our most intimate minute. That’s the instant my life makes complete sense.

What is your Number?

The most awkward question of all time “how many guys/girls have you been with before me?” I know almost all of us have been faced with that question and I don’t know whether there’s an answer that can satisfy me as a girl. I mean, I’d rather think of myself as THE girl than have to confirm that yes, before me, he had a life. And in my defense, it comes with being a girl to be affected by such, and for guys who get affected by the answer to this question, man up!

I don’t know why it’s important for people to know how many guys a girl has been with, I mean, so what if I have been with five guys or ten, how will it help you as my eleventh boyfriend to know there were 10 predecessors before you? Will it make you feel manlier that you are with a girl who has handled 10 guys and now she is handling you? Or will it make you feel threatened as a guy? Or maybe still, it’ll make you wonder what she has seen in you that all those other guys didn’t have? This question is usually a detonator to insecurities. Some guys might act like there’s nothing wrong and in reality, there isn’t. The problem is that the image that’s usually in the head of this guy will change and most of the time it doesn’t change to a good one.  As a girl, I guy telling me that am the 20th girl he’s been with can work two ways depending on my moods at the moment in question.The optimist in me will be like “he has had a lot of experience” so in a good day, he can get lucky after telling me am the 21st. The pessimist in me though, that shit won’t cut it! I’ll be like “the 21st? Are you a gigolo/prostitute?”

Anyway, this post wasn’t to complain about the question being asked or not asked. Is about what number is acceptable for girls and dudes? And by number I mean of the girls/guys you have given it too. For a guy, having slept with 20 girls can be seen as an achievement of some sort and when they tell you such a number, it’s usually with pride and yet for a girl, that would be an abomination. I mean a girl having slept with 20 guys? And not for money? It sounds like a crime. But it’s not a crime! What is wrong with a girl having slept with all those guys? It’s a search for experience (am no justifying it).

My question being, what number is acceptable to the society? I know that being a virgin will be the most acceptable but ‘the virgin’ ship sailed a long time ago and it’s never coming back. Is 2 or 4 too little a number to give? And is 20 or even 25 too large a number? Most guys would never believe a girl who would say “ I have been with  only 3 guys my entire life” and this is not an assumption, I have talked to some guys about it and according to the seven that I asked, only one said he might believe it (might being the keyword). On further elaboration, some admitted that it could mean two things, she either doesn’t like sex or she’s just trying to appear innocent (pretending)! So I asked about a girl having been with 20 guys, the looks I got were enough for me to get the point. One even went ahead and asked, ”kwani ntakua nimeenda koinange kutafuta dame?” which loosely translates to “why would I go to a brothel to look for a girlfriend?”

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I can understand why most would consider such a girl a slut but 20 is not such a big number? Experience is the best teacher. And besides, vagina is not like soap that it gets a little finished with every use (again, not trying to justify). But why would it be alright if a guy has slept with as many girls as 20 but not a girl? Double standards….!!!!!

So in my quest to find the acceptable number, I found out there isn’t one. According to guys, more than 7 is slutty and yet less than 5 is a lie. For girls, a guy who says he has been with less than 7 girls is a liar and more than 12 is a braggart! Not my words. In my opinion, it shouldn’t matter how many girls or guys you have been with, in the past. So it can be 20 or 30 (just making a point), the main point is that it’s all in the PAST! And besides, all those sexcapades means she picked up some really great moves along the way, I mean, 20 is not quite a small number as I might have made it to be. And all she learned, she is to use on you if you play your cards right. You can never gain anything by dragging the past to your future.

What do you think? And should the number matter? Share your thoughts…..