Let’s Talk About Sex

So, we’ve all heard about Usher giving herpes to a woman that he had sex with and then paying her off. Now, another woman has come forward and said that she had sex with him back in April (he’s married) at her house and then in New Orleans and that Usher never shared his diagnosis with her. She’s asking for 20 million! Say what? Yep, 20 million.

Now, back to the paid settlement woman. This woman said in court documents that she saw a greenish discharge from his penis and Usher told her he was negative for any sexually transmitted diseases. What is wrong with this woman? Let me be clear to any man or woman….If you see some green stuff coming out of a man’s penis or a woman’s vagina – please run. Why would you then have unprotected sex with someone after that? Because they are a celebrity?

That was mind-blowing. On to the next case where she is asking for 20 million. I understand she’s scared and is now saying she has she tested positive, but is money going to make it better? Why’d you have unprotected sex with him? He’s married. Why were you even sleeping with him? Ugh! I suspect that a lot more women are going to coming forward and bring law suits against him. I feel for Usher. It is his private medical that has been shared publicly, but dang man. Why didn’t you tell the women you were sleeping with? Give them the option to decide if they want to sleep with you especially since you knew you had herpes.

All this drama got me to thinking when did we get so cavalier about sharing our bodies with just anyone. I don’t care if he’s a superstar or Rodney on the corner. What happened to practicing safe sex?

Remember, in the 90’s there was all the talk about wrapping it up and safe sex and even Salt-n-Pepa sang Let’s Talk About Sexy Baby. When did we stop caring about safe sex? When did we see so little value in our bodies?

Was it when we realized that Majic Johnson is still living with HIV and fine? When did we become risk takers? With our bodies? With our minds?

A friend of mine told me a few years ago that most people don’t get tested for Herpes when they do their annual physicals or gynecological visits for women. It has to be specifically asked for. What? How the hell are doctors not doing this?

His doctor told him that herpes is so common and causes no problems that it’s no big deal. So, the medical community is in a conspiracy? What the hell! We have to be an advocate for our own health. This is no joke.

Wrap it up. Protect yourself. Know your status with everything.

safersex

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links: Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.

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Dating Chronicles: Take Two

I told you in yesterday’s post how I met and fell in love with a man after my ex that really was a filler. This was difficult because I didn’t believe in love, but after trying on-line dating and meeting this man that wooed me, I believed I could meet someone. He wasn’t the one.

So, I ended things and took a brief break. Until one day I reactivated my profile and met another man. He was different than most. Funny and short with a body made of pure muscle he had some endearing qualities. He was older than the last man and definitely one of the oldest men that I had dated. He as 8 years older than me. I didn’t even agree to meet him for an official date until 3 months of back and forth consistent communication.

He understood. Never pressured me. I believed that the age gap had made us somewhat able to relate. How wrong I had been. I wrote about him and our experiences in getting to know each other when I asked him Why Are You Single? He was showing me a different side. Not romance, but chivalry. We both led busy lives. His son was home from college and had no driver’s license. He lived in Baltimore County and that was a long way from me living in the southern part of Prince George’s County.

We made it work when we could. I was a soccer mom with a pretty predictable schedule. I wanted to take my time and make sure that he was genuine so I was dating a couple of other men during that time. Nothing serious. All were fillers. My heart wasn’t in it. It was with the last one. I was getting over him.

But, Mr. K had problems. Commitment problems. Time was his biggest issue. We could never connect. I believed him when he made excuses. I was being naive. Too trustworthy for someone who didn’t even know the meaning of the word. He cancelled more dates due to him being sick than anyone I have ever met in my life. One of the hardest ones was to the Beer, Bourbon and BBQ festival.

We were supposed to smoke cigars and drink. I only lived 3 miles away and I was hoping to get hammered. He cancelled. I went with my best friend and had a great time, but it wasn’t the same. It ended shortly thereafter because I don’t like liars. I have a smart mouth and I don’t have time for the fake ones. I wrote it about here:  And It’s Done.

I became frustrated about the lack of honesty and transparency when dating. I still had contact with Mr. K. Not sure why. Maybe I was believing that we could just be friends, but did I really need another friend? Probably not, but I was hard headed and I started to let my guard down with him.

Giving him more chances than I would with anyone else because I believed that somewhere there was a nice guy there. Why? Because he would say the nicest things to me. Why was this so hard? I wasn’t looking to rush down the altar (been there and done that) nor was I looking for a father to my son (he has one) so what was the issue? I know that I intimidate a lot of men for various reasons (a lot of it is my intellect) but I really wanted to find someone that could appreciate all the awesomeness of me.

But, I was sliding into old behaviors and sliding into the bed with the one that I loved and left. I missed him. I missed us. Old feelings started to resurface. I was getting caught up again. He was a bad habit that I couldn’t break. I was hurting from the one that I thought was awesome with all the great qualities and feeling lonely because the man I loved didn’t love me back.

I needed to get off this dang roller coaster of emotions and stop myself. Eventually, Mr. K slow faded me. It was cool. I figured it should have happened months before. I deserved better. I needed and wanted someone to love and take care of me. Not financially, but emotionally. I needed my own love. I craved it. I made a decision.

Quotes About Bad Relationships 1000+ Bad Relationship Quotes On Pinterest | Bad Relationship

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links: Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.

None

She had none.

No money. No food. Nothing.

Her children were hungry.

What would they eat?

Her babies.

Her failed marriage had left her nothing.

Her ex-husband was a narcissistic abuser.

She left him. Dead of night. Two kids in tow.

With $2,000 to her name, she found a safe place for her and the children in a new town. She had no family. No friends. He made sure of that. None.

All she had was her kids. Her life. Her car. Nothing else mattered without her kids.

They lived cheaply.

She found a job. It didn’t pay much. But, it was something.

She had to make more money.

She washed her clothes out on hand in the motel room and hung them to dry.

She had an idea. She put her hair up. Put on make-up. Put on some nice clothes.

She put on some heels. Grabbed her coat and purse. Left her sleeping babies to make some money.

She walked the streets. Wishing that someone would stop and give her some money for a service. The kids would be up in a few hours and she had to feed them breakfast.

A car stopped. She asked him what he wanted. He told her “A blow job”. She told him a price “$50.” He told her that was too much. He would pay her $20.00. She could take it or leave it.

She thought about her pride for a moment. She was willing to sell her body on the streets to feed her children. Is this really what life had become? She slowly opened the door to his car and hopped in. He drove off.

She realized that she didn’t need to think about pride. She had none left.

 

This post is inspired by the Daily Post. The word prompt of the day is none

 

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links: Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.

Control

“You always have to be in control” he whispered. I smiled and asked “Who doesn’t want to be in control?” He laughed.

That deep and hearty laugh that I loved. I tenderly kissed his lips. I smiled as I licked my tongue across his lips. I put the blind fold on him.

“My turn” I said. I tightened his neckties around his wrists and tied him to the bed post. He began to rise with thoughts of ecstasy. “Relax baby. I got this” I said. He smiled and said “I love you.”

“I know” I said. I turned on the music. Nice and slow. ‘Adore’ by Prince was blaring through the wireless speakers.

I added the hot oil to his body. Slow and deep I began to massage the oil all over his chest and arms. His stomach and down his legs. Missing his manhood on purpose I began to massage his feet.

“Damn” he muttered.

I smiled.

I began to massage his thighs. Deeper and slower. Making my way up to the most important part of his body. I raised myself up and sat on his member. Sweet satisfaction filled me.

Slowly I began to ride.

I wanted to be in control. This situation. This moment with him mattered. I moved to the rhythm of the music. I controlled my hips to start and stop the pleasure I was giving him.

Control.

I loved being in control. Secretly, he did too.

He begged me to stop. “Not too fast” he stammered. I increased my speed as I rode him. Faster and faster.

He screamed.

He released.

“I love you being in control” he whispered. “I know babe and I love you too” I said.

 

 

Today’s post is inspired by the Daily Post. The word prompt was control

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links: Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.

Minimal

He assumed that there would be minimal damage. What harm was there in the game he was playing? He wanted her. He had to have her.

She was beautiful. Kind of shy. But, he was attracted to her. Not just her. Others too. But, she would be the one that would be in his bed tonight.

Slowly he hunted her like his prey.

He wined and dined her with minimal thought to how she was falling in love with him. She laughed at his jokes, smiled when he told her she was beautiful and fell captive to his charm. She required minimal things.

She told him that she needed a man that was authentic and transparent. He had to believe and practice honesty in his daily life. His words and actions must be above reproach. He had to be a man that she could trust.

He lied to her about his intentions. No thought or concern to the words that he was using to bring her in. She fell for it. She fell in love.

With a man that was using her for sex. She didn’t know it. She gave her body. Her soul. Her heart and her mind. He was an amazing lover.

He made her feel as though she were the most beautiful and loved woman ever. It was a game. A game of manipulation and seduction. She was of minimal concern. She was dismissed.

He left her alone. Beautiful and broken. She would always remember him. He had left her with HIV because he couldn’t be concerned about how having unprotected sex would affect her. After all, she was of minimal concern to him.

This post is inspired by the Daily Prompt. The word of the day was minimal.

 

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links:  Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.

When the D*ck Has You Delirious

Most women can remember a time when they had some good sex. A time when all you wanted was a good piece of meat to take the edge off. That man was a champion lover. He knew all the right moves. He was beyond addictive with his bed skills. But, you couldn’t make it work.

Why not?

Probably because he was a male whore. He knew his skills were beyond compare and he felt it his need to share it with every Jane, Sue and Leslie in town. He was a hot commodity. He never really wanted for a traditional relationship. They bothered him. He didn’t have time for one woman. He wanted many.

He wined, dined and probably 69ed you and you started to catch feelings. You imagined a future with him. He was amazing. He was smart, funny and so sweet to you. You my friend were delirious. He was a piece of d*ck that you enjoyed. You and many others.

He didn’t make it a secret that he couldn’t be a one woman man. There was no reason to pretend. You just got your feelings hurt girl! You started to believe that he could be more than just a booty call. That you could love a man that didn’t love you. You fell for it.

You would pull yourself away from the man who you knew could never love you and go running back each time you felt an ache between your thighs. For what? The same old same old. See, this man is a player. Nothing wrong with it. You just have to know that you’re nothing more than a chess piece and get the hell up from the board.

You need to understand your worth. You need to value yourself more than you do the piece of meat between his legs. You need to stop wasting your time. You see what I’m saying? It’s not him love, it’s you. You are allowing this man whose time has expired to occupy space in your life and in your bed and then trying to convince the rest of us that you are just f*ck buddies.

Naw, boo. You’re playing yourself. Buddies implies that he has respect for you. He doesn’t. He calls you out your name. He makes you feel inferior and puts you in situations that you claim you didn’t enjoy. You begin to change and adapt to his whim knowing deep down inside he doesn’t give a damn about you.

But, you insist on trying to make the world believe that you are in control of the situation. You’re not. You’re in denial. You see the disrespect. You see the writing on the wall and yet you continue to engage. The d*ck is bomb is what you say.

Whatever sis! While you’re dipping and riding all over his joy stick you’re killing yourself slowly. Both physically and mentally with a man that could give a rat’s a*s what you think. He doesn’t respect you. He doesn’t value you. He doesn’t comfort you.

Why should he? You’ve made it too easy for him not to care. It’s not his fault. You allow the continued disrespect. You like it. You see no value in you only what you think you can offer him.

No amount of sex will keep a man. You could be an Olympic gold medalist in the bedroom, but if a man doesn’t respect you, he won’t be kept. So, stop letting the d*ck confuse and abuse you and look in the mirror and love yourself.

Love yourself more than you’ve ever loved yourself and untangle your soul from the foolishness of this pseudo relationship. You will find yourself happier and healthier. Be honest with what you want and who you want and know that you deserve more.

 

 

 

Want to keep in touch? You can find me on social media at the following links:  Twitter @mskeeinmd, Facebook page A Thomas Point of View and my Instagram page https://www.instagram.com/mskeeinmd/.

Boycott Valentine’s Day

I love the idea of love. I love actual love. I love a lot of things. Heck, I’m in love. However, I don’t like going out on Valentine’s Day for dinner. It is my biggest pet peeve.

Let me tell you why….

Nine years ago when I was pregnant I had been on bed rest for the last month. My ex husband had made dinner arrangements for The Chart House (one of my favorite restaurants) that evening. I had been ordered to not have sex (umm, I’m pregnant and wanted to have sex with my husband) because they were afraid that I would go into pre-term labor. My life sucked.

I had two doctor’s appointments on Valentine’s Day. The first was my obstetrician who checked me out and said we could have sex. I was excited. I then went to see the maternal and fetal medicine doctor a few hours later who then told me no. I started to cry. He said, “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but I’m really concerned about your cervix shortening.” I was crushed.

Aren’t you supposed to have sex on Valentine’s Day with your husband? I was hormonal. I was looking forward to some big belly loving. But, it wasn’t meant to be. So, we went to dinner that night and the restaurant had so many tables squeezed in there that I couldn’t maneuver through the tables with my belly. I started to cry as I tried to slide my way to our table.

Men saw what was wrong and started to move their tables aside as tears rolled down my eyes. I felt like the biggest pregnant loser ever. No sex and I was too fat to get to our table.

My husband at the time was very comforting and encouraging. He told me that I was creating life and that was more important than anything, but I didn’t believe him. My self-esteem was shot. It was at that moment that I realized that I didn’t like Valentine’s Day and I would never go to dinner again. I felt that restaurants overbooked and added so many more tables to get the money in and I wasn’t going to take part in that foolishness. I was deeply wounded.

And you know what? I’ve never gone out on Valentine’s Day for dinner ever again. Every year that we were married after that my husband would ask did I want to go to dinner and every year I said “No, you remember that I’m boycotting right?” He would laugh and cook us dinner at home and that was fine with me.

This Valentine’s Day, I’m in a relationship with a wonderful man who I’ve expressed that I’m boycotting dinner at a great restaurant and he’s cool with that. He laughed. I’m not even seeing him on that day because it’s a weeknight and I have Munch. So, I will surprise Munch with a dozen heart balloons when he wakes up on Valentine’s Day. I will have a card for him and we will go to Toys R’Us for a toy after school and I will buy him dinner at Chipotle.

He will love it all the same and it will be a perfect mommy/son date. I couldn’t ask for anything more considering that I boycott dinner at a fancy restaurant on this day. He’ll kiss me and tell me that I’m the best mommy in the world and I will kiss him and tell him that he is the best son in the world.

And you know what? He is. Our love is perfect.