Jenny Owens Young State of Mind

Love grows in me like a tumor,
parasites bent on devouring its host.
I'm developing my sense of humor,
till I can laugh at my heart between your teeth,
till I can laugh at my face beneath your feet.

chorus

Skillet on the stove is such a temptation,
maybe I'll be the lucky one that doesnt get burned.
What the fuck was I thinking?

Love plows through me like a dozer,
I've got more give than a bale of hay,
and there's always a big mess left over.
What did you do?
What did you say?

Skillet on the stove is such a temptation,
maybe I'll be the special one that doesnt get burned.
What the fuck was I thinking?

Love tears me up like a demon.
Opens the wounds and fills them with lead,
and I'm having some trouble just breathing.
If we werent such good friends I think that I'd hate you.
If we weren't such good friends I'd wish you were dead

Oh it's so embarrasing
I'm this awkward and uncomprable thing,
and I'm running out of places to hide

Theatre of Tragedy

Being the absolute, undisputed king of hyperbole it should come as no surprise that I have overly romanticized every event in my life. The slightest show of affection is turned into the world's greatest burgeoning romance. My heart has been melted more times than all the Gelato cups in Italy on 100* summer day. I live to feel the feeling of life.

With every new love comes the inspiration and desperation to begin the next; the mind of an economist belies the heart and soul of a renaissance artist. What is it about me and the fairer sex; they can't seem to stop torturing me and I can't seem to stop loving them. Is it these feelings and a lack of conciliation with them that lead men like Duchovny and Eric Bennet to believe that they are somehow addicted to sex or pornography. Clearly, we should not be condemned as mere addicts or purveyors of sex as it is much more than sex itself that drives us. Anyone in the know understands that we are driven by the passion of our own feelings, we are trying to feed a prodigious passion beast. One that will not take no for an answer, one that drives our very being. Now, does that mean men like us should not be married or incapable of fidelity-YES! This also means that men like us should step from the shadows and claim our right to live as men of passion and stop hiding inth shadows and lying to our partners, friends, family and most importantly to ourselves. We have the obligation of truth to unburden our right to live as we feel and not as others see us.

One can not make a plausible case for why a man lost within his own passion should pursue the physical embodiment of his passion-sex. There is nothing sick or insane or wrong with a man seeking, pursuing and lust after a connection with a woman, any woman that he feels can stoke those passions. men like us hate 5 year car leases, we want to drive a different vehicle every 3 months. We never want too purchase houses, we want a new residence every year. We dream the impossible, we discover the forgotten, lost and invisible. Men with voracious appetites lead other men, we manifest theories of relativity and form laws of gravity and motion. Show me a man devoid of passion and I mean great passions and I will point out his insignificance to the rest of the world. In my 34 years, I have never seen a man that wants to conquer the world stop just short of conquering and pursuing the opposite sex, the law of passion consumes all and can not be so laserly focused as to permit one to be all encompassing in every aspect except love. Men, especially passionate, aggressive men love to live LIFE. They do not live to love fidelity.

Or at least that's the way I feel today :-)

The saga continues...

No Omega

Act 1- The awakening


In the desolate emptiness of deep black nothingness. When there was no separation of Universe; no sectioning of Nebula and no distinction of Galaxies. In the vast black abyss, matter and time and space were all one.

In an event that can only be described as creation; time and space and matter begin to crack and break and have distinguishing characteristics. Time began to move ever forward without hope of looking back. Matter was in its most dense and heavy state. Space could only be quantified by the amount of matter it could hold and the time it took to reach its most outer boundaries, in other words, it was limitless.

Here at this very moment, in this very space; time, matter and space disbanded from one another, yet, remained inextricably tied to one another. This reorganization had a titanic effect. Where time, space and matter merged spawned the creation of two celestial beings, the likes of which the burgeoning universe had never produced. In the new form of their beings; the offspring of time, space and matter spent millennial learning to spur their own awakening. These two beings would later call themselves Ewee (pronounced YOU) and Eeyee (pronounced I).

In this early existence of the young universe there was no oxygen, no hydrogen, no carbon and therefore no air. Consequently, there was no light, no sound and nothing that traveled or moved. There was no order, no chaos and no rules. There was no systematic law of order to follow and no charter too uphold. There was no gravity, no polarity and no positive or negative to attract or repel. There were only two beings with absolute power and they had no clue as to how to use it yet.

The elemental figures known as Ewee and Eeyee spent most of the newly formed time, discovering space and learning to manipulate matter. Many Millennial passed and Ewee and Eeyee learned that anything and everything could be possible if they so desired and investing their beings into it. So Ewee gave Eeyee air! In with his first breathe Eeyee gave praise to Ewee. And this event caused there to be a natural order of things. Natural law had been born. Wishes and desires are internalized and praise goes up to be meet with fruition. Right then Ewee and Eyee learned to believe.

In the millennial to follow Ewee learned to control inert gases and organic matter and many things of beauty. Ewee took oxygen and and hydrogen and created air and subsequently water.

Eeye took the air that Ewee made and used it to form flowers that he would give to Ewee. From the elements of inert gases and water that Ewee made, Eeyee created soil and then light and sound that traveled in wave lengths. Then there was energy that could burn or warm. Lastly Eyee engineered matter that could float in space and be used as a domicile or shelter or simply a place to be.

Over hundreds of thousands of light millennial Ewee and Eeyee decided that all the power to control and create was useless if what was created was inanimate and without life. They wanted to create something that could and would transcend them both and become greater than the sum of them both. Something that could sustain and give life all on its own and flourish for time immemorial.

Without thinking and without the aid of conscious decision Ewee and Eeyee moved ever closer to one another. Dangerously close; so close that the ensuing illumination generated enough heat to warm the outer constellations. So close that their combined mass was so great their heaviness nearly collapsed upon itself. So great was the power and emotion that time itself stood still for the first time since its original dawning.

Unbeknowst to them, their simple act of touching defined and confirmed solidarity, togetherness, unconditional care and affection; they had created what they sought. In that moment Ewee and Eeyee discovered the only power great enough to give and sustain life, to heal and move, to forgive and forget, to change and forever remain constant. In that moment Ewee and Eeyee created LOVE!

Act 2- What hath...

Armed with the most miraculous of gifts, in the first few eons of the young universe, Ewee and Eeyee set about the business of creating life. With love as the sharpened spear-head tool that Ewee and Eyee would carved matter into life, space into habitats and time into a measurement to determine the span of those lives.

In the fevered pitch of their work, Ewee and Eeyee displaced massive amounts of matter, causing smaller bits and particles to move about and collide and become islands in the sea of time and space. Ewee would sometimes dig your fingers into a nearby sphere and from the dirt pull trees and shrubs to the surface. Eyee would complement that fact by taking a piece of matter in hand and squeezing it so tightly that it would super-heat to the point of shining brightly for many billions of years to come.

This time at the beginning edges of space and matter were wondrous; in the wake of their path of discovery, they left life and life supporting essentials. They laughed and worked and loved for many millenial before tiring themselves out. Ewee and Eeyee, finally set aside a moment too reflect and consider what love hath made.

Act 3- Passion Begins

Ewee and Eeyee decided to take a much needed, richly deserved sabbatical. A holiday for for the newly loved, that had just found what love was all about. Love can be taxing when it is challenged and put too work. Love is resilient and can hide fatigue and challenge the weary to go on when physically it seems impossible. Alas, when love pushed them to work beyond thier limits they had to find another spark, something that helps loves flames maintain its glorious ignition.

Ewee and Eeyee, in the midst of all that we had accomplished stopped too take a look around and marvel at their work. Their small space in the vast universe was aglow with their handy work and their greatest tool-love. There, in the shadows was a once shining example of what happens when love is allowed to run rampant and unchecked, when Ewee and Eeyee did not pay attention to how we used the powerful tool of love. A planet, one we neglected as we molded and shaped galaxies; formed and gave life to constellations and nebula, a lone planet lie in the distance frozen over and barren.

Ewee looked at the gigantic sphere and began to mourn its frigid lifeless state. Ewee looked the sphere and said to Eeyee, "Had we just forgot this one". Eeyee, looked at Ewee and sadly replied "I think we might have". Smiling, Eeyee reached his mighty hands inside the plant and found its core still burning and still trying to create enough heat to melt the mountainous layers of ice that had encased the planet. Looking into Ewee's eyes and hoping to solicit a smile from her pretty face, Eeyee rubbed the planet's core between his hands and generated enough warmth to cause the glacial snow caps to release the trapped, life giving water it held in for centuries. As the water began to pour, Ewee climbed on the planet and let the chilly liquid cover her entirely. Seeing this Eeyee joined in and decided to hold Ewee as the cascading aquatic love den continued to warm this once frosty, neglected planet began to show signs of life.

Eeyee had encountered a feeling that he had never felt before. He was warm and cold; excited but scared; he had an acute sense of the now, but felt as if he had been here before. His urges were not just too kiss Ewee, but too consume her, to attach himself to her in ways he had never before. He felt invigorated and simultaneously as weak as a lamb. When he touched his lips to Ewee's, his eyes were closed and lips slightly parted. All he could think to do was lie Ewee on her back, to hover over her gently. If he could, he would have opened his chest and given his very soul to her.

Ewee, laying on her back now, reached for the nape of Eeyee's neck and pulled his face down to hers. Her lips slightly parted and back rightfully arched, she could not resist the idea of joining Eeyee in some blissful entanglement of soul mending. Ewee could feel Eeyee's love her for her in ways that she never imagined. She wanted to return that love in equal measures and meet his physicality with pure softness and allowed him to have her as he wished and too have him as she needed.

Little did Ewee and Eeyee now at the time, but as they lay in the formless sphere, their love den was being given shape by their every move and sound. As Eeyee kissed Ewee down her obliques and over her stomach, she would recoil and squirm. Ewee dug in her heels and pushed mightily against the planets surface and created buckles and peaks on the planet that reached for miles into the sky. Eeyee would bend to reach for Ewee's hips and dug his knees deep into the soil and created caverns and craters that stretched for miles. As Eeyee pulled Ewee's hips into his face her outstretched hands reached for tons of earth and displaced flat land and left canyons of space in-between. As Ewee screamed out in ecstasy, the clouds spread and the things that fly mimicked her sounds of love making and rejoiced with a song of their own. Eeye, could contain his love noises no better than Ewee, he let out a mighty yell that the majestic beast of the land would imitate for millions of years to come.

Joined now, the love could not be contained. The movements created the beginnings of a fine planet that produces life over and over again. Their love, connected on a higher plane and the ensuing result was the ultimate living, loving organism known as earth and it was created from a hyper sense of love, called PASSION.

Act 4-Life means choices

After exhausting themselves once again, this time in the name of passion. Ewee and Eeyee slumbered and nestled into the place that they had created; his hands around her waist, her hands cupped his face gently. As the water receded in beds created for it by the tossing and turning of Ewee and Eeyee and life sprung up around them. They laughed as Birds landed on their shoulders and Mastodons tussled and tickled their toes.

As never before, time was measured in increments, space was a finite place and matter could be organized and shaped to suit the needs of the living things on this planet. Still there were no nights and days and the temperature of the fragile young planet was largely held in check Ewee and Eeyee's passion. In what they learned was life, Ewee and Eeyee discovered that passion was a fleeting power and largely unpredictable. There were times when Ewee and Eeyee would scorch the poor planet with the heat from the vigor and strength of their passion. Then, there were times when the passion would grow so cold that living things on the planet would freeze and wilt. Though the love was constant and the passion itense at times, the fate of the world they created depended heavily on their individual will and the power of an entity neither could control-Passion.

Ewee and Eeyee tried, boy did they try. For millenial the two attempted to react the heat, energy and passion that they used to create the planet-to sustain that same planet. Ewee and Eeyee, knew that something had to be done. However, loved would not let them act, love they discovered only cared about love. You see love made you act, would not and could not stand inaction. Love made you move, forced you to go, implored you to be in the moment. Love kept Ewee and Eeyee together, But at the cost of what? Was love telling us to be together even at the expense of the greater good?

Ewee begged Eeyee not to do it...Ewee knew that this time would come, she had simply hoped that it would be many light years and maybe on another plane of existence. A plane where there was no such thing as pain or loss. Eeyee had made up his mind, he knew what must be done and that he was the one that had too do it. In his heart he knew that he would hurt Ewee with his decesion, but, not as much as it would hurt for her to see this world that they had made out of passion and love DIE.

Ewee yelled at Eeyee "what about our love" and Eeyee replied "our love is forever and nothing will ever change that". With that he went about the work of using all of his energy for heating and illimunating the Earth. He figured he could do this for a Million-Million years or so before buring himself out. At this moment he was not worried about how long he could shine, but about the soul he was leaving behind, the only love he had ever known-Ewee! Even as he moved to go about his most noble task, he knew she would wait. No matter how long it took, she would wait.

He affixed himself 93 million miles from the Earth. The exact coordinates was just far enough away to warm without burning; and just close enough to light without blinding. In concert with him and in exact harmony, she awaits him not so far away. In fact, just close enough to play her position and spell him at night. Still being his rock and allowing him rest when he so desperately needs it.

Every now and again, they cross each others path and talk of one day being together again forever. This happens largely in a vaccum and unbenowst to the citizens of the world they built. As they move slowly past one another, the Earth is reminded of what life (or lack there of) would be like if one or other did not exist. In this wrinkle in time, they laugh and enjoy what they had and built and never laminate the choices that they made. As time, space and matter endureth, they are emboldened, because they know that their love and passion can outlast all three!

Looking forward to the past

Last night I was lying in bed, minding my own business and sleeping soundly. I am sure I was dreaming of the Lakers and Kobe Bryant winning a championship without Shaq or pulling off some multi-million dollar deal without a dime of my own money when suddenly and out of the blue... A thunderous crash in my brain and cerebral lightning strikes and I am standing in the office of one my friends over at the NBC tower. This was not surprising or shocking too me, this particular friend and I do see each other maybe twice a year and I go to her office and we have lunch somewhere and catch up. I am wearing my standard uniform; basic brown shoes, tan khaki-colored suit, with white shirt , no tie and brown belt. I believe that I am waiting for my friend of about 18 years to come out of her office restroom so we can head over to Grande Luxe Cafe, a place she loves and I can barely tolerate, except for these glorious little desserts.

While standing, both hands firmly entrenched in the pockets of my slacks; attitude slowly building because of the much anticipated, yet highly unnecessary wait. In this time and space, I began to think about the myriad of things going on in my afternoon that I absolutely must remember to get too. At last the door cracks, but, my old childhood friend does not enter. I turn slightly and alter my stance to help the door open and my heart nearly stops. Standing before me is none other than you. Wearing a navy and white Anne Taylor business ensemble with navy and white lady wing tip shoes, I would almost swear that you were there for a meeting of some sort. An eternity passes by inside of a nanosecond and not a word is said. That is when I realize that the only person shocked by this chance meeting is me; you clearly have come with a purpose and a mission. Standing in complete shock I relent my position and begin to back peddle, you slowly make your way into the room filling up the void between the door and my right arm.

Looking deep into your eyes searching for a clue as to why and how I am standing here fully clothed, yet my soul is stone naked before you. You give no hint nor clue as to your intentions, you simply saunter over to me, look up into my eyes and without a word convince my heart too surrender. My heart complies with your request and my will is soon too follow. You reach for my hand and I melt within your touch. You pull me closer to you and for a second I nearly lose my footing as quickly as I lost my desire to resist. Still, without a word being spoken you engage me with a warm embrace; the sight, the smell and feel are all so familiar. My hands instantly remember every curve and every soft spot. Your breath, so warm and inviting on my neck that I bend at the knees and pull you closer to me. Before I even realize what is happening I am caressing your back and running my hands the length of your back and down over your sweet ass.

Lost in this rhythmic dance my body responds to your touch. Still, in this space and time our bodies become one; writhing, needing organism, growing and feeding lust and love lost in years past. The hunger rises and I can not wait one more second to touch your lips with mine. Inside of the breath it took to cover your mouth with my own, I am transported back to that sacred day that I met you and held you in my arms for the first time, and the kiss that ensued. This time there would be no glaring looks from on-lookers, no horns blowing and no threats from gum shoe beat walkers relegated to guarding the park we nestled in. This time, its just you and I, this passion and desire and the maddeningly delightful inscription of a story yet untold. I was your Odysseus and you my Penelope. Not quite ten years, but long enough for a fable to be written.

With our mouths and tongues busy, our hands join the party. You began wresting my jacket from my torso and I help you. Still not sure if this is right or good or real; I slowly let go of every chivalrous thought I ever held in our previous meetings. I let my guard and do not wonder if this passion in the making is moral or ethical or what the risk later in life will be. My only thought is that this love inside of me is too big and too uncontrollable to hold any longer, I know you must feel the same way by the way you are releasing buttons from my shirt. Not too be out done, with my lips still connected to yours, I begin removing your clothing with vigor. I think I broke a button! I hope that you don't mind. Shit, I guess we're even, you just ripped a belt loop off of my pants trying to release the buckle.

Still, having only shared touches, feels, caressing, holds, massages, grinds and moans, to this point there hasn't been one word uttered between us. Somehow though, I think we understand each other perfectly. As I finally slide your shirt from your shoulders, I notice your brown skin glowing under the fluorescent of the office. You remove my shirt and unbutton my pants but leave them zipped, you slide my T-top t-shirt out of my pants and slip it over my head, I bend down just a little to help you. Now we are smiling at one another, sharing a moment like only we can share, like we have shared so many times before. Our smiles soften and I pull you close as I lean against the edge of the desk, I begin kissing you once again and again your body responds. This time I have visual evidence as I remove your bra with one hand hold you with my free hand. Not too be out done, you finally unzip my pants and hold me in your hands. The love is so thick in the air, anyone attempting to look in upon us would be be blinded as if by the thickest Chicago Fog. I feel your warm skin next mine, I caress and suck your hardened nipples. You return the favor placing your hand deep inside my overly stretched underwear.

Seeing you here, in nothing but some pale blue panties, I wonder too myself how one allows their one and only wife, their best friend and the only woman they have ever thought of mothering their children get away. I don't know the answer and it will not be answered this afternoon. There is something far more pressing on my mind; how in the hell do I act cool, when I am about to explode from the excitement. As I stand to allow you easier access to me and what has ultimately always been yours! You slide my pants down to my shoes and now nearly nothing stands between us, between our love and between this passion penned up for way too long. Starting at your lips and then down to you neck and over your shoulders and down your chest I place kisses. Across each nipple and down your stomach I suckle and nibble every inch of your body. Now down on my knees, as if apologizing and pleading at the same time, I grab your ass with both hands and pull you into my face, kissing your pelvis, I gently tug at the waistline of your panties and slide them over your hips and down to your ankles as you step out of your shoes.

Asking me to rise, simply by touching both my shoulders with your hands. I stand to my feet, look you in your eyes one more time, searching for a hint of remorse, the scent of regret. I find none. Still, Looking at you, I swipe everything from the once cluttered desk with my arm. I invite you to lay down on the desk by extending my hand. You accept and lay on your back, legs curiously spread and the scent of you and a hint of warmth and love glisten from the very essence of you. I join you atop that desk and images of home fill my head, The anticipation of love and love making transports me to another place, some place deep inside your soul. I am consumed with the feeling of going home and being home. You in every way are inviting me home I drift down upon you as a cloud lightly, gently and effortlessly hovers above the earth and you are waiting and anticipating me coming home...

...and then what!

"Because the only one I have ever loved, is the only one that will never love me".


We got together to cure your financial woes. At least that was the promise. You needed money and security and I needed sex or so I told you.

The money was always a day away, but the promises were always present. As long as we were together, you could never be broke, because the tapestry that was woven was deep and rich in the fabric of hope and chance.

Things began with you calling for me from a desperate place. You tried to lust for money before and with disastrous results. Maybe the fact that you had a boyfriend and was still loving this person was more of a hindrance than you were willing to admit to yourself. The more time we spent, the less money became an issue, the more confusion injected, the more the lie swallowed us both.

Time passed, but the lies did not. Money did indeed change hands, but reciprocity ruled and you paid dearly for every dime you got from me. Before you knew it, you were attending cookouts and bar-b-ques hosted by family and attended by yours. Lines got crossed and intentions blurred. The living of life came to a head and you learned a valuable lesson: You can't walk on both sides of the street at the same time! The secrets had to be uncloaked, but not just yours, you see I held a few secrets of my own.

You see the stories of infamy and wealth were all true. The money was there and yours for the taking, what was not yours and could never be was the one thing you were was so sure that you possessed-My heart. You see there was a game being played and a scam taking place, but, what was at stake was never money! The prize was each others soul. You apologized ever so smugly as if you had broken me, because you saw me show some emotion. The truth remained that I was broken long before we ever met. "She" broke me and never cared to clean up the mess, to dust up the broken pieces. My feelings for you were the broken, fractured type. Feelings that were never unconditional and never elastic.

My dear the sex was just one small way that I wanted/needed to control you. I needed to control you, not because I cared for you, but because I could never ever control her. What you received was just a bad facsimile of what she wanted from me. I rescued you, because that was the one role she afforded me unequivocally. I gave to you what she would not accept from me. I may have been your house to burn; your lesson to learn ,if you were smart. However, you my dear, you were the demon I needed to exorcise. The only way that I could finally fix her, was through you.

So as it ended , the frustration you saw was not about you at all. It was the exorcism of her. I had finally conquered her through you. The ashes you saw at your feet were not created by your heat, but, by a star that shone much brighter than your own. A star that was at once: my heat, my inspiration, muse and biggest frustration. Even with the same problems, same inept behaviours, lack of moral compass and propensity for all out foul fuckery, you could never cut me as deep. You did succeed in proving once and for all, that there is no one like her and from my heart you both must be expelled.

I feel bad because you were young and inexperienced and not ready for the mind fuck that was me. So remember to practice your tantra techniques, never forget that threesomes are best experienced when they are organic and not contrived and above all being multi-orgasmic is far more pleasurable for him than it is for her!

I see you still searching, still not knowing what to do with yourself. Unsure and undecided and thinking that the party will quiet the demons within. Well it won't and neither will the meds. Your life and your love and your decisions can't be made in a vacuum. On a positive note, we will always have the Sopranos Season 4:-)

I Wrote Something on my Friend Moxies Blog

I believe that everyone wants to date above their station, its human nature. Psychologically and Physiologically people want to ensure that their offspring has the greatest chance of survival and increasingly that means social acceptance in todays world. So dating, the right person oft times means dating the physically attractive, well off and highly educated person.

Many women believe that having a degree and a career makes them more desirable to most men and as a man I can tell you that its not necessarily true. Matter of fact many times its a detriment; is it because men are intimidated by smart women? No. The reason is closer to ,why would I want someone that has the same skill set as I do! Would a football team have 5 field goal kickers? Does "Dancing with the Stars or "Idol" have three judges with the same personalties and temperaments? Of course not.

Furthermore, men and women dating out of their league has far too many facets singularly, to be lumped in together. Men dating out of their league has less to do with looks and more to do with ability too provide; while women dating men out their league typically speaks to a woman physical attractiveness. Case in point...A famous athlete can date just about any woman he wants regardless of physical appearance, i.e. Anthony Mason or Dennis Rodman. Where as a famous actress has a small much smaller dating pool. How many dating options does Beyonce really have? Not many. So dating above one's station is infinitely different depending on your sex and socio-economic background.

All that being said, everyone should simply put their bid in! Why? Because no matter what you never know if what you bring to the table is just what your desired love interest is missing. Also believing that someone that you find very attractive is shallow and only dates the types of people they have previously been seen with is just stupid. The example above of the guy only dating leggy blond's, leads me too think that maybe those are the women that approach him and he has a hard time approaching women, so he dates who wants to date him. If the authors "plain" friend approaches this guy and is herself and confident, she may find that she is actually the type of woman he prefers... or not! But isn't that what life is all about, the chance and the opportunity.

Thanks

Couldn't say it any better...

...Someone asked me what I wanted in a relationship. I replied:


What am I looking for? Like most people the
impossible...someone prettier than I should hope for,
sweeter than I deserve, more loving than I am myself
and as understanding as I strive to be. I am indeed
looking for my better half, my missing half; She who
will let me rule the day as I let her rule the night.
I am looking for a woman that is becoming extinct, the
rare sister that understands love is not about winning
or losing, but overcoming together. One team, one
fight, I am looking for a woman that one day wants to
be the BEST damn person possible for her husband and
her kids and her family, but understands that you
can't have it all-all the time. There is time to be
the corporate raider/career woman, a time to be a wife
and mother, a time to be a friend, a daughter, a
sister. A woman that knows its not about wearing all
those hats at once, but, when to switch from one hat
to another. I dreamt of this woman long ago and her
memories floats around faintly in my mind. I have
found suitable substitutes and reasonable facsimiles,
but never once her in the flesh. Maybe that is why I
am single. Perhaps I am a dreamer.

Beauty is...

Let me kind of fill you in as to what beauty is to me:

The first type of beauty as I see it is the Glass Vase type. A person so beautiful and widely regarded that their beauty rarely allows others to see the beauty within. Typically this type of beauty is condemned to the role of arm candy, usually through no fault of their own. The beautiful person is relegated to sitting on the shelve and looking pretty.

The second type of beauty comes from a jar or potion or surgical procedure. This type of beauty can be sought out in gyms and running along the lake in summer. The pursuit to reverse gravities effects or slow down the aging process. Without the same work and diligence applied to the soul, what do the exercises and concoctions really accomplish?

Third, there is beauty of difference. Those that are considered beautiful because of the uniqueness of their appearance. Features so prominent, limbs so angular or hair so striking that they simply stand out in any crowd.

Having an appreciation of beauty of all kinds and all sorts, I am typically awed but all manners of physical gifts of God. However, there is one kind of beauty that I so entrances me that I seem to lose perspective in its presences. Yes, this is the beauty of Maya Angelou, the features of Nikki Giovanni, the timeless classic beauty that the rare sister possesses. You my dear bare that singular, unforgettable type of beauty. The looks of a woman that can balance the check book, rear the children, host a philanthropic event and never ever let them see you sweat. You have that classic look that tells the world that yours is a beauty that will exist at 20 and be intact at 80. I am simply awed!

A day in the life

A day I the life….


I cozy up to the bar at the latest, greatest fusion bar/restaurant in the Viagra Triangle. Order an import beer and shot of vodka. Bad day! Shit to say the least, who knows the amount of money I lost this afternoon. Who cares? Another day at the office, home to shower and shave and out, all alone at this fantastic monument to American opulence and inner city sanctum for those of us who regard premium Martinis as therapy.

The music plays, softly and understated but loud enough to cause one to reminisce the first time they heard the electronica beat. For me it was London, a few years ago; over seas on business in this club along Broad Street. The DJ’s name was Goldie and he played almost his entire album that night. I bought the black label version from some shady guy in the men’s room. Tonight however I would only hear a snippet of the song and the DJ here would cruise into the next single. I think I recognize this as well, sounds like Dido… Who knows, the beer is making me feel a little loose. I turn back to the bartender; a slight framed woman of about 25 years. She looks me square in the eye and asks if she can get me anything. For a second my eyes peruse her entire body and scan the black spaghetti strapped number she is wearing and I blank out while thinking of just how long it’s been since someone has asked me if I wanted anything with actual intentions if giving it to me. I re-focus and order a Vodka Martini. In one motion I turn and face the incoming crowd, my yellow checked blazer with maroon stripes open and reveals the maroon shirt underneath. My maroon shoes glide to an open stance and the entire club stands before me. I am lost in my own world of breaking down all the guys flaws and judging every woman’s assets when I hear “ Sir, Your Martini” . “Well thank you”, I say and hand over a 20 dollar bill. Smile and then I say “keep the change”. With a gracious smile in return I see the female alcohol concoction wizard peep my bald pate and check out my lips in a move that was as slick as any I had made that night.

Leaning over the bar, I am tapping my fingers and singing along with Gnarls Barkley and feeling oooh so Crazy. About time this place gets too jumping! Then she approaches; her hair approaching first, wild and untamed. She was bi-racial and refused to perm her beautiful static mane. Unruly and wild and tangible as it was unmanageable it spoke volumes about who she is. Next in my line of vision was her clear caramel coated skin. She smiled and I returned the sentiment, she leaned in too order her drink and I offered to buy. She turned me down flat and whispered to me that she didn’t want to feel obligated to talk to me later. I gently grasped her wrist and said “Whether we talk or not, this drink was on me”. She obliged and lowered her head. I kept tapping away at to the DJ’s offering. She thanked me for the drink and turned to leave, I said “if just a minute of your time is possible”… she said she had a moment. Right then I fell in love with her! I told her about my day and she told me of her work in the field of social services. She said she could never be a banker and I explained that I had so much admiration for her willingness to give back. The talks of college and my stint as basketball player and I found out where she got the body to pull of that natural look and amazing Vera Wang looking dress- she was a gymnast in college a few years ago. Said that she had gained a little weight and I said “in all the right places”. Our moment had become an hour and my intrigue continued. I offered to let her get back to her friends and she reminded me that she made her own decisions. So we talked about the Roots new album and this art show in Bronze Ville, our favorite place to visit in the world and the aspirations we both had for a better planet. We moved on to where we like to work out and if running along the lake was a good idea or not. I offered to make her dinner next week and she agreed. We talked of how many children we wanted and whether public or private schools were the way to go. She told of her plans to further her education and possibly learning to Salsa Dance. I gave her the run down on the business and where I wanted it to go… One topic let to another and then she looked me in the eyes and rubbed her hand across my head. I closed my eyes and touched the back of her hand. Then I reached for her hand and laid it across my chest and over my heart, I looked deep into her eyes and reached for the back of her neck. Feeling no resistance I pulled her just a little closer to me and gently touched my lips to hers. When both our eyes opened, I looked deep into her eyes and said “ By the way, my name is Ty”….


Anyone want to help me finish this?

Dreaming in echoes..

Oct. ‘09
As usual I creep up the stairs and attempt to startle you. Equally as common you remain calm and tell me that you felt my presence by the time I hit the third step. As you have told before, my aura wraps itself around your shoulders every time I walk into the same room as you. You are sitting on the edge of our bed fully dressed , yet sitting perfectly still. I climb over the massive bed and sit on my knees behind you, I fold my frame over yours and touch the odd football shaped mound that is now your stomach. I close my eyes and take in the wonderful smell of you and our unborn child. Eyes still close, three heart beats synchronize and I begin to drift….

June ‘09
The cabin was beautiful, amenities perfect and the service left nothing to be desired. Still I leave feeling empty. I don’t readily recognize this feeling, I am usually fairly easily to please and who loves a good time more than I? Yet I am not satisfied, I don’t want to go to my house and more importantly, I don’t want to go anywhere that you are not . You touch my face and ask “what’s wrong“, I melt within your hand. That is when I knew, knew that this Tiffany 3 carat creation that has been in my pocket the entire trip was the only relief from my eternal restlessness. In the lobby of the resort , I dropped to one knee in front of hundreds of stunned guests and amazed staff persons and asked you to never let me go home to any place that was not with you….

January ‘09
My small business suddenly becomes medium sized. Our phone conversations decrease and the time we spend starts to dwindle. You want too break up with me, you say that I am neglecting you, neglecting us. I understand what you mean and know that you are right. I take to the defensive and say that you are not even trying to understand what I am going through. You bark out something about your own career and it’s demands. I mutter something incomprehensible about something that means nothing. I hurt you. You hurt me. I become indignant over nothing and we nearly break up! You say something to diffuse the situation. I say that I love you and I apologize. We plan a trip, no business for a week…

July ‘08
We lay spooning on the couch, watching the final episodes of the "Wire". I have no idea if you even liked this stuff before we met, now you look forward to each episode. Perhaps it’s the closeness and not the drama that you really crave. I don’t know and don’t dare ask, just like you never asked when I bit my lip and saw that chick flick with you last week. Slowly. Surely. We are becoming a couple…

Jan ‘08
Stove grey cashmere coat is blowing in the brisk winter's air. The rain has turned into faintest form of snow . The precipitation is most certainly not welcome. We walk arm in arm to your door. Still laughing and still smiling we get to your front step and you turn to face me, nearly hit me with the bouquet of flowers that you have not let go of since I handed them to you earlier in the evening. I tell you that I had a great time, you reply the same. A slight breeze breeches our bliss and you reach for the front of your coat and give yourself a warming hug. Of all the times for God to exhale. Aaarrrggghhh! I was preparing myself for a final gloss of what has captivated my attention all night. The sight of you in that wonderful dress, perfectly manicured hands, beautiful face leading to that slender neck, small frame inviting me in for a big hug, down to those perfect dancer's legs. I insist that you go inside before you catch cold. You reach up put your arms around my neck, kiss me on the cheek and say goodnight. I walk away wondering if it is possible to fall in love on the first date…

Jan ‘08
I found you reading my blog!

The Real Power

Man is in a natural state of awe for the beauty and power of the woman.
If this state is just left lying there – unused -- it deteriorates, disintegrates.
He looses respect and he looses his awe. Every woman is Queen, but she MUST rule, and her failure to rule absolutely creates chaos, disharmony, confusion in her man, unhappiness for her, and loss of place in the world for both of them.

If the woman knows and understands this, she can use this natural, inherent aspect of the man to be in a state of awe for her beauty and sexuality. She does this by using her sexuality as the basis of her authority over him in the relationship. In short, in the relationship, she commands by and through her sexuality.

If she does not use her sexuality for command (in a very particular way, as described below), she does not command. The more she uses it -AS HE NEEDS IT TO BE USED, the more she commands.

What is so fascinating about this dynamic of sexual power is that it is:
------- NOT OPTIONAL ------
IT MUST BE USED as a “power” over the man, OR IT IS LOST.

A slight digression.
A man can make anything. He can change anything. He can do ANYTHING, given enough time and resources. That is his nature. He is built and designed, and hormonally driven to do stuff, change stuff, make stuff better / different / or worse; in other words, alter his world. He is better at doing that than any force in the universe. With all that he can do, there is one thing over which he has utterly no power. A woman’s loving sexuality. There is nothing he can do to force a woman love to him. To give her body to him out of love, in that deep melding place that grabs him deeper than any other force in the world. That is hers, totally and utterly beyond his “doing” reach. He can’t buy it. He can’t make it. He can’t invent it. He can’t manipulate it. He can have sex with a woman, whether by chance, or force, or by money, but, even in relationship, he is utterly helpless in his attempt to make her feel what he wants her to feel when he wants her to feel it. That is hers and hers alone.

He has no power over it, and yet, it has total power over him. He gives up his power in the face of it every day, in a million ways. The power of a woman’s sexuality is as profound and as real and tangible to a man as the power of splitting atoms. It is awesome, irresistible, unstoppable, and can annihilate every other emotion and feeling in his body. It can make him do things that totally override every other sense in his body – self-preservation included.

The woman is in command of the relationship because she is the woman. It’s that simple. As the woman, you possess something that is priceless beyond words, is the most important thing in the universe (to a man), and one of the main things he lives for. Only you can give it to him. He needs it, lives for it, breathes for it, and will (in many cases) die for it (or for the lack of it).

What is meant by “IN CHARGE?” Just that. Totally, completely, utterly, absolutely, in control of everything that goes on in the relationship, between the woman and the man.

What does that look like?

If the proper kind and amount of devotion is not paid by the man to the woman’s sexuality, she does disservice to both of them. He looses perspective of the rarity, the awesome gift, the inestimable value of what she possesses – and she squanders one of the rarest and most valuable things in the universe in exchange for meaningless, petty, and self-debilitating trivialities. By failing to assume command, no one is in command except the unfulfilled needs of both parties –
--His for sexuality, loving guidance, eternal affection, devotion to another, the need to build palaces, and to change the world.
--Hers for being cherished, worshiped, adored, appreciated, respected, and loved.

It is the woman’s responsibility and duty to harness that need / desire and channel it, control it, and use it for loving purposes. Nothing will change his biology. But it is her place and her role –- HER RESPONSIBILITY -- to harness that biology for their mutual growth, loving, joining, and direction. It is her responsibility and obligation to use these tools and this natural symbiosis appropriately, powerfully, confidently, and productively. If she gets lazy, he looses direction. They loose their natural relationship to each other. It is both great benefit to her and great responsibility that she takes this role. She gets everything she wants. He gets to give her everything she wants. And in return, he gets his deepest, most powerful needs (loosely described as “Hot Sex 24-hours-a-day”) met in the giving.

Without this relationship of command, she is forever insecure, totally dependent upon others to reassure her that she has worth – That she is pretty enough. That she compares favorably. That she’s smart enough. That she doesn’t look fat in those jeans. She, too, is guideless, rudderless, aimless – seeking scrapes of what the command relationship inherently provides her, but without any of the fulfillment, security, or long-term satisfaction – in other words, she is dependant upon others for what is her own natural birthright. By failing to take control she is controlled, and poorly so.

The unconscious woman believes that she must submit – must “give” her sex to satisfy the needs of the man. This is exactly wrong. It is not enough for her to “give” him her sexuality. To let him take what he needs. To make sure he is “taken care of” by letting him get the sex he so compellingly needs and seems to be so obsessed about. This is the mistake virtually all women make. She believes that if she gives him what he wants (sex), he will do the same for her (security, home, family, etc.). This is a profound error.

Giving him what he wants in this way elevates his pleasure above hers. It means he gets something without the proper honoring, without the proper earning of it. This makes the man lazy, selfish, distorted. He looses his appreciation and gratitude, and instead gains a false belief that he is entitled to her sexuality; that she is obligated to satisfy his needs. This, in turn, can only lead to resentment, disappointment, and self-justifying rationales for going outside the relationship to get what he perceives she is “withholding” from him. Or, staying in the confines of the resented relationship dynamic and being miserable.

According to today’s norms, the guy ALWAYS gets off. And the woman is left with infrequent, indeed, rare, satisfaction. This is actually a complete distortion of the true entitlements of the man and the woman. Contrary to “norm,” in THIS world, HIS pleasure is secondary. HER pleasure is not only primary, it is supreme. In this natural order,
-------------THERE ARE NO POOR LOVERS ------------
--- THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS “BAD SEX”.---
She has trained him to please her in exactly the ways that work for her. He has learned utmost patience. She is totally in control and he dare not rush or push or leave her pleasure behind. If he does, she stops and redirects his attentions in the proper way.

“If you want access to my body, you do it my way. No exceptions. If you please me in all the right ways, you will get access. On occasion, it pleases me to give you total access. But you will learn that my pleasure controls everything that happens.”

Whether or not he is given release is totally within her control. Each couple must settle on ways of enforcing her control (a decision that ultimately is hers to make, and if the man is lucky, he has chosen a wise and loving partner to whom he has given this power). But, because she TOTALLY CONTROLS the keys to his sexuality, she is NEVER unsatisfied. It is always done HER WAY, to HER pleasure. If something isn’t working, she directs the changes, whether it be to direct to him to do something other than what he is doing, or simply to opt for something else, like having him give her a relaxing bath or a massage.

When the entirety of his sexuality is given over to the control of the woman, -- he KNOWS that his entire sexual fulfillment is totally in the hands of another. Every interaction, if not completely pleasing to her, may lead to a lessening or restriction of the next time he needs – with all his being – that secret place and those secret gifts that only this woman can give to him. The conscious woman totally controls his needs, and he, 100% of the time (without exception), submits to her wishes. Though this statement is counterintuitive and goes against everything you know and have experienced, the truth is, if the woman meets his needs for conscious sexuality, he is fulfilled to the depth of his core.

She never looks at his longing for her sex as a disappointment or with resentment. On the contrary – that incessant and unquenchable need of his is how she controls him and keeps him productive for her. “He just wants me for my body,” stated with derisive offense, is a total distortion and misunderstanding. Yes, it’s true. He utterly cannot help wanting and needing her body. Never-ending. Never tiring. Never enough. He is utterly dependant upon her in this way. That is his nature by design. She would no sooner resent his need and dependency upon her sexuality than she would resent a magic ring that gave her everything she wished for.

He, so overwhelmed by the effects of his hormones, and by the control of that heightened state that his woman keeps him in, is, sexually, for her, a puppy dog, eagerly awaiting the slightest hint of sexual attention, 24-hours-a-day. Always on. Always ready. Always eager. She needs to use him regularly, in ways that take advantage of this part of his nature. When this relationship is properly established, the use of him is only limitedly sexual (sex is never a burden for her), because everything he does for her becomes “sexual.” Grocery shopping becomes for him a sexual act when she commands him to do so from the authority of her sexuality. His chores, his work, his paying for their lifestyle, ALL is sexual to him when the woman has assumed command of him through her sexuality. If she were to use him in this way, to command him fully, he would be hers completely. There would be nothing that he could refuse her. And this, in his deepest places, is what he has longed for and fantasized about his whole life – A WOMAN WHO IS 100% SEXUAL WITH HIM.

Doesn’t this relationship emasculate the man?
Not in the least, and quite the contrary.
Because he is so powerfully motivated to achieve under her loving guidance, he is actually more powerful, more directed, more capable, more effective. Out in the world he is a stallion -- powerful, dominant, influential, authoritative. He rules in this world, ruled only by one other – her – and only in the private sanctity of their relationship. It makes him less self-centered, more humble, and more real in his business dealings out in the world. Incredibly focused, and motivated, he achieves every goal for their relationship because it is so dear to him. To support his woman so fully, so that she can give to him in the ways she does, he will move a continent. Powerfully motivated to fulfill his own destiny in the world, when backed by the loving guidance and nurturing of the woman who loves him, and who fulfills his deepest, most primal needs, he is literally unstoppable.

The nature of man is essentially to go out and do and achieve. But, without the woman in his life, this doing and achieving is directionless. Without direction he may seek power. But there is no end to power and he is ultimately unhappy. He may seek money, but there is no end to money, and he ultimately cannot make enough to fill the void and make him happy. Directionless achievement gets men into trouble – wars, conflicts, power grabs, waste, ego aggression, environmental destruction. Stuff for stuff’s sake, regardless of the cost to himself or anyone else. He cannot find his true happiness in empty pursuit of any of these objectives. He lacks the balance of the loving female authority to bring into harmony these drives, and focus them for the benefit of the long term needs of the union, which is where this energy is all supposed to go.

Aimless and directionless, he compensates for what is lacking in his undirected pursuit of soulless goals in unhealthy indulgences. Eating, drinking, smoking, unhealthy weight and lack of exercise. He doesn’t know any better, and it’s really not his place to know better. His health and fitness, is, however, essential to HER needs and preferences. Under her loving guidance and authority, and because this is always an important consideration of hers, he is fit and healthy, so as to better fulfill her needs, and ultimately, the needs of the relationship. In this type of relationship, the woman holds and wields real tools that powerfully motivate him to achieve the needs of the relationship as she sees them and needs them, including his health. If drugs, alcohol, and a sedentary lifestyle are not within her picture of what their relationship should look like, there is little room for their tolerance, and great latitude for the means she has to enforce their absence.

If she were to wake him up in the morning with a suggestion and a tease. . .
If she were to nonchalantly leave an image burned in his mind of her beauty just before he went out the door, in ways she knows make his heart beat uncontrollably. . .
If she were to send him off to work with a provocative note with instructions to open at a certain hour during his work day . . .
If that note, when opened, were to contain her idle and amused thoughts for her plans for that evening, or perhaps some instructions for him on his way home. . .
If she were to call him during the day, to remind him of her plans, to totally distract his every thought for the last part of his day . . .
That man would could not be but totally captivated by the net she spun, he as a willing victim and accomplice.
So, seriously, would that man stop on his way home for a beer?
Would there be ANYTHING that could keep him from coming home to this woman who excites him more than anyone he could ever have imagined he could be with?

This is why she MUST be beautiful to her utmost.
(I hate to interrupt the flow here, but this is most important -- BEAUTIFUL in HIS eyes. Every man is different, and every man has his own inner sense and inner wiring of what moves him to that place of awe and beauty in a woman. The differences and variations that exist in the physical appearances, and the physical preferences of both men and women cannot be overstated. I believe that EVERY man and EVERY woman has and can find their ideal match out there.)

So, to return: This is why SHE ►MUST◄ BE BEAUTIFUL TO HER UTMOST.
Her looks, her powerful sensuality, her most provocatively sexually appealing appearance, taking advantage of a man’s visual vulnerabilities (the places that connect his eyes to his dick without any routing through the brain) ---- this is how she retains her utter command over him.

This is how and why it is vital for HER to stay healthy, fit, and in shape. It is essential to the early stages of the relationship for her establishment of her authority over him (men naturally being highly visual creatures) that she retain and maintain the physical characteristics of beauty that so trigger him. Over-eating, drinking, smoking, unhealthy weight, and lack of exercise have no place here either, if she is to retain her authority. To the extent that SHE allows laziness to enter into her own physical appearance and being, SHE is disrespecting what the man is giving to her, and why he is giving it. She harms the relationship dynamic when she slacks off on what is one of her key contributions to this heightened relationship state.

In the later stages of the relationship, as the couple ages, visual factors become less critical, though they are still important. The man will be powerfully triggered by the visual for his entire life, but love, trust, and respect inevitably become deeper places from which the couple draw to keep their connection dynamic and exciting. Though the visuals may change, the healthy lifestyle habits the couple implements from the beginning never diminish in importance.

She wears sexy underwear for him, not because “he likes it,” but because he is UTTERLY UNABLE NOT TO LIKE IT. She does it not to please him, but to own that part of him -- to reassert her ownership every time she shows him, however blatantly or discretely, her pretty little panties. She wears beautiful clothes not for his pleasure, but because they are the crown and scepter of her royal status over him.

Like the soldier wears the uniform – each article of the uniform being a completely essential component in order to accomplish the job, her every sexy accoutrement, the sexy panties, stockings, jewelry, are her tools for her command of him. They serve a definite purpose and are totally utilitarian – they arouse him into the state where he can resist nothing she asks. If she wants something and he resists, she takes her clothes off. The authority of her nakedness in her beauty is absolute. He can now resist nothing. (This description is by way of example – every man and every woman will have their own triggers for arousal.)

When they go out, she dresses to show her body, in ways that are specifically arousing for him. This is how he is in thrall to her outside their home. She doesn’t do it to show herself off to others. She doesn’t do it for them at all. She does it because this is how she owns her man, stakes her claim over him, proclaims to the world that he is hers. She dresses provocatively because these are her tools in trade, by which she asserts her control over him.

A strategically positioned body reveals to him places that he knows, and she knows, own him. Any opportunity missed to show him these special places that have such power over him is a missed opportunity to strengthen the bond that holds him to her. The amusing thing is there is no such thing as too much power over him. He never tires of every act of her sexual ownership of him, no matter how small, no matter how many times repeated – he is built that way, to respond to her sexual enticements, over and over again, into infinity. It is in his DNA / in his deep uncontrollable unconscious - that he cannot ignore / he cannot fail to succumb to, every single demonstration of her beauty’s natural power over him. Does she dress to be comfortable? Or does she dress so that, at any time she pleases, she may command him to give her a two-hour massage? A command to which he will lovingly, gratefully, eagerly comply.

Every article of clothing has relevance to him. When he is in a state of controlled arousal, he utterly notices everything she wears, wonders compulsively about what he cannot see, and is profoundly excited by the knowing that she consciously dresses with this control in mind. She always dresses consciously. She should never wear anything in the relationship without calculating the sexual effect upon her man. Every article of clothing (both seen and unseen) has powerful significance for him, every day, every time. So it should for her, too. The only time sweatpants / sweatshirt should ever be worn, is as a specific punishment for the man.

Every man has some secret, hidden weakness – some part of her body or some kind of need that is his secret, most deepest place. Some action, or some access, perhaps some ritual, that makes him weak, makes him totally vulnerable, that he has no ability to resist – this she shamelessly exploits. She uses this need of his to establish and reestablish and remind him, over and over again, who is in control. He NEEDS her to do this. That is why it is his weakness. The truth is, it is his most powerful and deepest fantasy that the woman, who, of course, forces him to divulge this deep dark secret from his places of darkness, will exploit this weakness in him, will use it, will mercilessly exploit it over him – it is simultaneously his terror and his deepest wish. When he tells her what it is, (when she assumes control in the relationship, he has no more secrets), when she uses it over him, he knows he has given up any ability to say no to this woman. But this is only true IF she ruthlessly exploits it. He has given her the power over him. It only stays a power and only for so long as it is used and exploited. For deep psychological reasons, he NEEDS to experience his weakness as a weakness that someone LOVING will exploit over him.

The reasons are complex, and deeply entangled in the deepest recesses of his unconscious, but, in a nutshell, the following digression illustrates why this is so. The emotional, physical and psychological body is always striving towards healing. Trauma, whether early or late in life, is always seeking some release, or, if release is not possible, then a rebalancing – some way to make what happened ok. Sexuality is one of the most potent emotional / physical / psychological forces in our being, and it is often through sexuality that the unconscious seeks a rebalancing of some of our deepest and most painful traumas. A way to make that early trauma, if not disappear, than at least be experienced as ‘acceptable’ is to sexualize it. And so, through a ‘recreation’ of the trauma (and it may look nothing like the original trauma to our conscious mind, a trauma probably long forgotten by the individual in any case), with, or by, or through another person (and this part is critical) ---whom we know “loves” us -- we reenact the original trauma in a way that makes it somehow ok. It even becomes sexually exciting. And this sexualization of the trauma will be repeated over and over and over again, until it is healed. His weakness is out of his trauma – but healing comes when that weakness is (counter intuitively) exploited by one who loves him.

And so, she seduces him. She uses his attraction to her beauty, her physicality, her sexuality. She exploits the weaknesses that he has given her the keys to.
Relentlessly. Ruthlessly. Every day.
With her clothing, with her sexuality, with her body, with her knowledge, with her off-hand, seemingly innocent comments, with hints and innuendos, she pulls him ever deeper into her, in every way. He is helpless, and he loves it.

Keeping him in a heightened state of arousal serves many purposes.

First, when he is in a heightened state, he is in a state of perpetual courtship – of amorous pursuit. He is wooing the woman from whom he seeks favors, and this energetic interjection into the relationship keeps things fresh, exciting, and always appreciated.

Second, it makes EVERY interaction in the relationship, whether or not sexual – sexual. The sexual charge permeates all of their interactions, whether it be planning trips, making meals, or taking out the garbage. This, too, keeps things exciting.

Third, it is easier for her control. It is less work. It leaves him vulnerable -- always -- to her state, completely dependant upon her wishes and desires as to when and how to grant him further access to what she holds and represent for him. It means a single word or even a specific look can trigger in him the most profound arousal.

And here is the more important part of this whole lengthy post.
When she does give to him, when she chooses to give to him, she gives to him totally.
What she gives to him comes totally from love, with nothing held back.
She gives out of her own appreciation of all that this man gives her.
A woman who is totally supported to be who she is, who is totally loved, who is totally secure, who is totally in touch with her own needs and her own body, who is self-aware, and who has no inhibitions over either fully giving or fully receiving pleasure -- very few men on this planet have ever experienced such a woman.
Or the profound depths of giving that such a woman who is “full” in this way is capable of giving.
And, once experienced, the man who receives from this woman will NEVER seek anything (or anyone) else.
What else is there? Who else could possibly love him so much as to touch him so profoundly, so deeply, so intimately, in this way? That is his reward for his giving his life to fulfill hers. When she is full, she shares immeasurably. She is incapable of anything else. She gives him her body in deep ways, and the rarity of such incomprehensible takings / giftings of pleasure only make him love her more.

And that is what makes all of this worth it.

And, so, which of the two sounds more like you?

I have to get up and go to work today. I have to work because it pays the bills because that lets me do the things I really want to do. If I don’t work, I won’t be able to keep my nice place and I won’t be able to go on my vacation this year. I do have some free time, which is on the weekends, but, because I have this intense job, I'm so tired when I get home that I can barely . . .



I have two jobs, today. The first is what I do in the world outside of my relationship that I find fulfilling. I do it because I choose to, and I can do it because I am totally supported by this man who worships me. My second job today is to make myself beautiful. And, to give some thought to new ways to find pleasure in my relationship. To be creative in sending unmistakable messages to my man, letting him know that I’m thinking about him. That he is pleasing me by supporting our lifestyle in this way. But letting him know that he has got to please me in other ways too. Maybe I’ll go shopping for some new toys today, or an outfit that will drive him to distraction. I will show him that his hard work is making me happy. He will know how happy I am in my life, when he experiences what I choose to do with him this evening. When I hint to him about what I have been thinking about for our weekend. That he supports me so totally without any resentment is such an amazing thing, and it takes a bit of work and planning and thought on my part, but all of that work and planning and thought pays dividends in strengthening this relationship, and, I have to say, that work and planning and thought is rather fun. All that he gives me, all that he does to support this incredible lifestyle, all that he lets me do and be whatever I choose, he knows, comes back to him in spades, in just the way he most wishes it would come back to him. He has made me fulfilled in my every desire, and so I fulfill his one most profound desire. How could life be more perfect?

Which of these women would you rather be?