Not the kind of drum you play one time . . .
I’m not used to getting what I want. Okay that might be a slight lie. But my aversion to patience typically leads me to situations that require it. However, these last several weeks, I have found that in regard to sexual desire, I haven’t had to suppress it. And, I haven’t had to wait long for what I want. I see it. I aim. I attack. I receive. And they come back for more.
My friends say it’s my walk or my stare or some crazy thing I do with my shoulders. I apparently possess a sexual calling card of which I have not fully used to my advantage. Until now.
Even my work bestie indicated at lunch yesterday that I am sexualized in the way I dress at work. Here’s the thing . . . I’m not dressing differently. I still wear my skirts, power suits, heels and pearls. It’s me, my attitude. The dragon has awakened and it’s obvious in my smile, my laugh, my walk, my confidence.
After 8 years of a relationship in which I was sexually repressed. Not allowed to moan, or scream or give eye contact. He never went down on me. He had two positions in his repertoire (and one of them was me on top). He never opened his eyes. Never gave eye contact. Never took me from behind. Never bent me over the steps, the kitchen table, or a counter. Never broke a sweat. Never touched me tenderly or aggressively. Never fucked unless it was on the bed in the bedroom. Timed. Planned. And far from precise.
And now . . . I’m awake. And hungry. Starving even. To say that I am not aware of my sexuality would be a lie. I’m just rediscovering it. Everyone I’ve taken home has come back for me (and with very little effort on my part). Because . . . she’s back. She’s hungry. And, she’s not the kind of drum you can just play one time.*
*With acknowledgement to Marian Hill.
