The man who

The man who truly loves you will not fuck you in the back of his wife's car; nor in the front. He will not ignore you one moment and then shower you with affection the next. Love is not a roller-coaster ride but at times it can feel like a merry-go-round.

As with all life lessons, you don't realise just how dismal things are until an eclipse rolls around and you are faced with yourself: your truths and your lies.

Who you are and who you choose to become can only align when you decide to live a life free from illusion and delusion.

And he was a little bit of both. Sexually, it was kismet. The way you fell into each other and travelled warp speed through multiple dimensions. Simultaneous orgasms signalling celestial communion. Every Full Moon spent worshipping the Creator through the activation of the Sacral Chakra.

His words melted onto your lower lips and when he remarked on the wonders of your taste, to your ears it sounded like Sacred Hymns.

Alas, to some men, all you are is a meal. To be attained, devoured, undone and then discarded. And who could blame them? Who could resist all.of.this.?

There are some things that are consumed every day without a second thought. Things that do not nearly excite the palate after some time has passed. Chicken and rice, rice and peas. Box lunch.

Then there are those things that become treats to those who least deserve it. Sweet and soft, dripping carelessly down the chin.

You are that thing. Majestic and divine, with a light that shines defiantly through the darkest of night.

So, the next time he attempts to make contact:

Do not think about the last time he grabbed your hair and slapped your ass asking you who the owner was,

Forget about the gentle trickle of moisture evaporating off your inner thigh as you moan his full government name,

Ignore the sensation of sheet gliding against the tips of your nipples as you arch your back lifting your ass eagerly into the air,

Banish the desire to surrender your all to him, body-mind and soul...

And hold fast to the knowledge that your best is yet to come. That your orgasm quota has not yet been met and whilst you might not have any more fucks left to give there's quite a few more that you can take.


The man whose child you are to bear will not fuck you on his woman's bed when she isn't there.

No matter how much and how well he is able to convince you that he really and truly cares.

There's nothing there but a cycle of hurt, pain and distrust. A cheater never changes its spots.

So what if he says he has turned over a new leaf. Oh, he's stopped drinking and smoking? Sure. For now.

But you know the effect your pussy has on him. You know just how hard he gets when in your presence.

You felt the bulge through his pants when he braced against you in that dark corner. Tongue on your earlobes, his lies resting recklessly on your cochlea.

From the first moment you saw into his eyes - that ocean of lascivious lust - you knew that he would be yours and that as soon as he felt the warmth of your oyster shell he would be stuck forevermore.

In the Sunken Place, how quickly the sands of time are able to transport you to another ethereal plane.

You have to take some of the blame because you knew he was no good and you rode him anyways. You just couldn't resist seeing the light in his eyes when he realised that inside of you is where he wanted to spend the rest of his life.

What you didn't anticipate was that he would believe his own lies. He believed them so much that he almost had you believing them too.

But, you see, he's still sleeping in his woman's bed. Her sheets wet with your desire. Your head knocking against the head of her bed.

So there's little to no chance that this will be any more than just a fling. One juk, one wash but then you have to turn him down.

It's now on you to convince him that you'd only make each other miserable even though now you're not sure what to believe any more.

He's left such an imprint inside of you that you almost find yourself wishing he was true.

But he can't be. No. He cannot father your child while at the same time living with and sleeping in his woman's bed. So extract that thought immediately from your head. Render him dead.


The man you are to spend the rest of your life with will not vehemently declare that he wants no more children.

Not when none of your eggs have yet to be fertilised and certainly not before you actualise the ultimate manifestation of being both Creator and Creation; bringing forth life onto this physical plane.

Don't tie yourself down to a life filled with regret just because he says that he loves you.

Loving you doesn't give him the right to ruin your future. To surrender your joy and happiness for the sake of his own.

That is not your destiny. Relinquish the thought immediately. Stop putting his wants and needs (and lack thereof) above your own.

You are not his personal Saviour. Let his wife do that. Separated or not, she is still his.

Break free and be the person you were meant to be. Untether your labia from his selfish desires. The friction of stubble against stubble. Un-mute your cries and let him know exactly what it is that you need.

His tongue on your clit. That's it.