Sustainable

Smoke is fleeting... not the people connected by it. It's a wonder though. Some people treat others like they can use them and discard them. Then they believe that there are no consequences and can return without dealing with what they've done or how they've treated others. It's karmic. There's something attractive about a man that doesn't use people. You use cigars, cigarettes, plastic bags, paper towels and a myriad of other things... but you don't use people! There are consequences and I'll be honest: No you can't be friends with someone after you used them or they used you. If you've found that you are in this situation... Look, sometimes you have to realize that you fucked up and move on. It's a life lesson and don't repeat the mistake.

Well SMOKE... came out today on AMAZON which means I'm off of writing for a while again. I love going back to photography and design. I'm more myself and find my time submerged in writing is becoming less and less. You never really change as a person you simply evolve into what you always were meant to be. Got to let it happen sometimes. :)  

SMOKE may get a special edition soon to include images and the stories I had to leave out... Keep an eye out! And yes this doll did indeed celebrate this accomplishment with a cigar unfortunately without the man. Thankfully I'm sure the right guy's out there somewhere smoking a cigar too and perhaps just wasting time with the wrong women. Ha! This doll isn't worried, I don't have time to waste. Family & friends are the best support for any dream.

Anyhoo! Here's one about a guy that treated women as disposable. If you haven't dated one... consider yourself a lucky doll! 

Enjoy!
Kisses, m. 

Disposable

(2-17-2011)

Ephraim Rybe was a man who knew that nothing lasts forever. Because of this knowledge he wasted no time with anything. Ephraim kept himself moving at a constant rate to take it all in. He firmly believed that if you stayed in one place too long you might miss what’s coming next. Moderately the world moved around while Ephraim sped through it. He felt that everyone and everything was a portion sized serving meant for consumption at the most appropriate time. Everything in its specific amount of time. No more. No less.

And he came to this understanding by a lesson life once handed him. A lesson that no one ever forgets. Ephraim had once been engaged to a lovely young woman. A beauty known throughout any and all of his circles. However, it was not to last. The young woman decidedly broke the agreement for their pending nuptials and left Ephraim moving on and on by wanting less and less.

Despite his unfulfilled destiny, Ephraim Rybe had been known to be quite the ladies man in certain circles. A many times confirmed bachelor he had a new gal pal on his arm every week. And it wasn’t for a lack of interest in the opposite sex that he continued in this manner. In fact it was Ephraim’s distinct fascination with women that kept his interest peaked consistently.

More.

Some women will tell you they love a man with ambition. That it’s refreshing to meet a man that knows wants and wants more of it. Ephraim Rybe wasn’t that sort of man. He always wanted more but less and less of what was involved in that equation. He was never satisfied by one woman when he could have five, six, seven or eight. Tonya, Felicia, Amber, Tiffany, Renee, Sandy, Mae, Claire. There were so many more than he often kept a list. The list continued onward and grew by five more every time one name dropped off.

A man will tell you that his idea of a perfect woman might be the combination of some supermodels with a few characteristics of his mom. And Ephraim Rybe wasn’t one of those men. He didn’t believe in the existence of a perfect woman for him. The idea of some epitomized goddess seemed like complete horseshit when he had his list. Ephraim repeatedly thought why settle on one when there’s always the next girl to fill that void. At current he could decidedly pick from a few different girls to fulfill these needs that other men want in one.

If he wanted to bed a supermodels ass he could call Christine. When needing to talk about his feelings with a sensitive matron he could dine with Anna. For the eyes and lips of an angel came Claudia. An ideal woman mattered very little when he could have a single serving portion of variation whenever he wanted. And soon enough he would be rotating in another set. The changeover had become a necessary a change routine. Some women loose their charm the same way eating the same meal does. There wasn’t an exact science to it, only that they needed to go when they lost their flavor. And it was never the quite the same flaw.

Some had too much hair while others had too little. Some appeared tall while they were really short. Others had laughs like hyenas when others giggled in a way that sounded like a drowning puppy. It wasn’t that any of those things made then unattractive. It wasn’t that at all, it was only an excuse to move onto something else.

To ask this man what he wanted from these women would be meaningless. He wanted nothing in particular from any of these girls, only to make sure that there would always be one coming next. Beat the disposable woman to the plate. Leave her before she can leave you. And he had it down to a science. From the looks of any new woman he could tell you how long he’d spend time with her. Knowing full well how long he would take before he used her up. Ephraim didn’t care if a woman knew she was getting the boot. He figured he was gifting her with some knowledge. In a sort of sick way he thought he was sparing a woman the trouble of getting attached when things were already over.

Next.

Onto the next one. And without much to it, I just so happened to be next. The next on his list. I happen to have had my fair share of experience dating men with eccentricities.  Although none of which included beating someone to the punch of heartbreak. To be perfectly honest, “no” wasn’t an option with Ephraim. Ephraim pressed and pursued very insistent that I be at the top of his agenda. When Ephraim told me that our involvement would last exactly two dates and a few rolls in the sack, I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or not. So I laughed even though Ephraim seemed quite serious. But I went along with it.

Going with the ride longer than he said. Long enough to know about the others which soon revealed more than I needed to know about the situation. You see there are some men who will tell you that they’re seeing other people. While others will lie about it. And then some want to pretend that there’s nothing before you happened to them because its taboo. Ephraim wasn’t at all like that. He kept things as real as possible. Too much real as a matter of fact. He nodded and smiled when he said there were others. It wasn’t news to me, but I could hardly contain what it all meant until he explained.

On an interesting cab ride back to his place, Ephraim took the time, that he never takes to explain about the others. Others that shouldn’t have been mentioned but needed to be explained once they had. And I insisted on knowing and encouraging. A curiosity that couldn’t be quenched once he’d mentioned it.

Something that I didn’t need to know as it never left my mind. The thought of being disposable and simply replaceable seemed to overwhelm my mind with thoughts that didn’t matter. The openness of his confession put him at ease and sent me wondering. I was consumed by the growing thought that nothing I did mattered in the slightest as he was already three deep into his next list of women.

The last night while he leaned in to kiss my neck, I sat thinking about Ephraim talk about the next one, Shelly or Sheila before telling me about Olga the dancer he had met after lunch with Hera. Somewhere between lunch and dinner, he’d been making arrangements with another woman and all I’d been doing was deciding what shoes matched with my new dress. My attention to him was disposable. It had simply been a choice of who to take home tonight.

Where did I fit on this uninvolved man’s list of disposable creatures? Not that it mattered in the slightest. His hands between my thighs mattered in the least. They mattered as much as which number of choice my Spinach salad ala carte with raspberry vinaigrette had been from dinner.

Ephraim wasted no time moving downward with his focus. Already thinking ahead, quickly his kisses found their way to my legs and I let him keep moving inward to work. It wouldn’t be long before it was over and I was merely someone else. And the more and more he pressed into things, the more I wondered about his list of women.

Even when Ephraim was moving his mouth in a rhythm all his own inside of me, I kept wondering the same thing: Would he be doing this dance with the dancer tomorrow night or the next. To Ephraim this was practice and preparation for the next act, with Olga, Hera, Shelly or someone else. When it became clear to me that I was no one’s trial run, I would get what I came for and leave him with none.

Closer and closer until the moment of release comes and goes. His arms find themselves around my waist when I say “Thank you, that was amazing. I’m done” and sweetly pat his face. His eyes look with alarm and his heart starts to race. Ephraim says “it’s my turn?” with the serious stare. His lips trembling waiting for something else when I tell him “there’s none.” So I tell him “I really have to go but I’ll get you later. Maybe next time. You understand?” and watch his thoughts crawl inside his head. I wait for something, anything to be said. When there is nothing I tell him “thank you again for understanding. I’m sure you can make other plans. After all you have Olga, Hera or Shelly.”  What more could a man need? And with that thought I left that impermanent man with his list of disposable women.

While Ephraim Rybe was too busy worrying about missing what would happen next he completely missed it without a thought of permanence because he couldn’t understand the meaning of disposable when it looked him back in the face.

Love Lingers Always

“Lingering by the water's edge...”

Have you ever lingered by the edge of the lake?

This doll has. 

It's fun!

Here's an unpublished D-Man about lingering on the edge of life! Where are the women? Coming! There are 30 men and now 30 women in the series and they were inspired by a man I was dating 3 years ago with a name that started with a "D" that enjoyed my writing thoroughly. We didn't end things badly. ;)

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

Dry

(7-9-2011)

When the water dries out I’ll know where I stand or hang. I know this as I move my hands carefully beneath their rope tied shackles. Carefully I lift my head backwards and hope that the rope around my neck will pull back with the ebb of water. Letting it happen is a matter of relaxing in the right position.

A thousand times over I’ve felt the cold water lap up neatly against the bottom of my chin with a false hope. The force of my own weight shoves back towards me as the water rises and rescinds. There’s a reason or two that have found me in an interesting predicament now and again but nothing could’ve prepared me for this. Both my arms bound above my head hanging beneath the dock of the bay with a noose around my neck. Tighter and looser the ropes dig in before releasing with the ebb of tide. One thing is for sure is that once the tide rolls out dry I’ll be sunk and left hanging by the neck unless I can relax.

“Miles Redfield there ought to be a law for the kind of man you are.” So says Zanrha Grey the only woman who ever walked out of my life more than twice and still knew me better than any other when she came back around.

If there’s one thing I know from spending my time with Zan was how much she liked to lay down laws.

And I did enjoy when she did cause I loved to break them.

Except this time around it wasn’t so much the law she laid down as it was her foot that said “No more.”

No more was what I should have said when I welcomed trouble back into my life instead of walking away. That Thursday morning out on the avenue by the docks hanging back with Charlie Black and Melly Abriga I knew there was nothing like trouble but I went along for the ride. I wanted to be in, so I was.

 There weren’t any cops around when we boosted the old dodge, certainly no one looking when Charlie pried open the driver’s side door and Melly took a knife to the trunk. What threw me by surprise was the body that jumped up out of the trunk and grabbed a hold of my throat. There wasn’t time enough to react. Melly dropped his knife and jumped into the freshly running car that Charlie threw into gear leaving me with 6ft 2inches of terror with his hands wrapped around me and a look of pure hate in his eye. It can’t be happening. But it was. And so was I.

He wasn’t an angry man the fellow that handed me back my neck. His fate was sealed inside that car and I’m the one to blame for letting him out. Yet instead of setting me free, he gave me a choice on how to be dead. And it wasn’t what I might have chosen, but no one knows what trouble will hand you when you aren't clear about what you want. So with an agreement and a nod…

Smoothly I let this happen to me. I chose the noose around my neck. I wanted to have a betting chance and agreed this was a better way to end up than with a bullet through and through my skull. See most people want to know what’s coming for 'em, and I’ll be the first to say I’d rather not know. For every inch of water that dries up and drops my body, tightens the noose around my neck. My arms bound up tight won’t save me when the full force of gravity yanks downward on my body.

As I relax and give into the current, my body remains afloat while I let my neck loosen in hopes of shifting the noose. My mind continues to think of Zan and her words while my hands fumble to untie themselves.  

“A law” she said time and time over again whenever I’d roll back home with a mess or two trailing behind me. To Zan it was purely infuriating that I could be so callous and not think of her when dragging another round of trouble to the door. But this time in the back of my mind I knew there would not be another round as the water takes another drop with my neckline growing tighter. It’s when the tightness takes hold that I realize floating won’t much longer be a problem as the slow drop into the dry will snap my neck without question. Taunting me the water laps up and back across my chin dragging and easing the rope in a tug of war for life. A war that will end in freedom either way.

Dry. For too many men it means something different. One man is clean from his addiction, another is flat busted, and for me it means I’ll be out options if I don’t break free.

Indulge

Summer indulgence is fun at the beach and great if you're on that side of paradise but Barbie prefers her sunblock, shade and the beautiful time indulging elsewhere instead of at the beach by this time of the Summer... Sorry to disappoint you! Looks fun though!

Here's a story about indulgence, a man and all his girls from the D Men...

PS: I'm almost done with my fun marathon of the DWomen and these ladies are different from the men. I'm excited to share! 

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

Daddy

(4-14-2011)

“Daddy!”

Zipper Zimmerman smiled wildly whenever he heard it. The nickname had been something of a lucky charm that had followed him for the last six odd years and as luck would have it he was living a life of charm. Somewhere in the middle of his nostalgic wide-eyed daydream he hears Francesca call for his attention again.

“Look, baby!” She cries before diving head first into the pool.

Zip always liked when his girls were having fun especially when it involved skinny dipping in the pool. The oversized oasis was covered in bare women enjoying the sun and playing. At thirty-four years old one might think that a man ought to know better than to have a backyard full of bathing beauties but this was no ordinary man and his household only had one rule: Clothing optional.

“Go on Francesca! Do it again” he yells back and snickers while patting his hand on Thierry Ann’s bare leg. Thierry looks back at him with a smile before lowering her oversized glasses to take in Francie’s dive. At this moment with all the women including the one that agreed to be his, Zip knew he was the luckiest man alive.

But it wasn’t always like this dream that rested before him. It started out small and ended up larger than he could have ever imagined. A dream that may have never been without the women in his life.

Zip Zimmerman was a ladies man with the utmost respect for women. His mother was a class act that never let her son go a day without understanding the importance of how to treat women. Somehow his love of women and dream of the printed word made him a bit of a success.

Zip was a newspaper man when started. Albeit not a very noticeable one, he was one nonetheless. He always prided himself on being the working man’s Citizen Kane, despite only having one publication to his name.  As a young man Zipper dreamed of an empire of print. Both rags and serious muck racking alongside each other in the same building. But that’s not what he ended up printing.  For you see that Zip created a bit of a pulp newspaper that he marketed primarily toward gentlemen. Although this publication was quite lucrative it was a far cry from the professional journalism that other great men had produced.

Now some might be ashamed of the type of newspaper that Zip sat behind. But not him. In fact Zip knew that day in and day out he was creating something of a fantasy filled with so much more and it was meant to be enjoyed. In addition to scantily clad beauties with their most stylish hair and accessories, it provided the how-to’s and hobbies like the other’s of its kind but also the standards, the disciplines and the important questions that men sought to be apprised of. At least he thought that’s what they wanted. With the occasional editorial from one of his favorite beauties Zip encouraged a strong female audience to participate in his newspaper. He felt that this would separate his material from what had been out on the newsstands. Zip thought it was important that a man entertain a female perspective on things and without a question he was right.

In addition to his steadily increasing male readers, Zip found that his female readership was higher than most male driven publications. Women wanted to know about the male mind and understand what they found to be attractive. And as such Zipper relied upon the opinion of women whenever possible. He knew that behind every successful man lay an amazing woman. With many women, Zip wondered how he could possibly go wrong.  Amazing thoughts pressed out from happy women.

Daddy is what the girls called Zip when he acted like a father figure. It wasn’t that he was trying to be. But unlike the other men he didn’t try to undress them. Although he hardly tried to stop them from it. Zip found that letting the women do what they wanted around him went further than anything else he could have done.

Like most children his girls were always looking for the same type of response. Love me, support me, and tell me. People often think it’s sexual when they hear about a grown man running about with half-clothed women. It’s funny, but Zip knew it wasn’t like that at all most of the time. In his experience anything in the way of support went further than anything else he could provide to his girls. And so often his attention came back in their words and actions.

To say there weren’t hardships along the road to success would be an understatement. But of course hardships were exactly what changed the course of everything. In the early days of his solitary endeavor Zipper often found himself knee deep in scandal with the law. A newspaper that demonstrated a willingness to remain open-minded in an industry of close-minded ritualism could hardly be expected to avoid litigation. But it wasn’t that there were issues with the standards. Zipper Zimmerman often found that his legal problems came with the employment of his male associates. As one might suspect if you put too many women in a male driven environment you might find yourself for an interesting mixing pot. The surprise came when Zipper Zimmerman stood on the side of his female employees. Instead of playing by the rules of the old boys club, Zip satisfied his own beliefs by representing the women.

It was through those formidable times and some hefty situations that his newspaper evolved into a successful publication. The sexual harassment cases endured by his publication became fodder for the lesser male publications to grab hold of and promote as their news. It was hardly news to Zip and he felt it to be quite distasteful when the matter came out. Mostly because these situations were delicate and more often than not damn embarrassing to the women involved. It wasn’t so much as a scandalous affair as it was a pity that a girl’s name had to be smeared through the mud. What made it worse was that it was one of his girls. That was something that Zip Zimmerman couldn’t endure.

Zip pressed for a change in the ethics involved in his endeavor when it became an open target for negative attitudes. He changed the way things were handled in his offices. From top to bottom Zip became a champion of women’s rights. No longer were his offices filled with the sexist men that it had once employed. His newly approached standards shifted his ratio of women to men 3:1. This placed a woman in nearly every position within the publishing offices. Newspaper became magazine leading toward radio then television. Leaving Zip Zimmerman as head of one of the world’s leading male publications primarily ran by women.

From the time he first represented them in court and continuing long after he made his first television appearance the women all called him “Daddy.” Zip was always incredibly nostalgic to those early days when he heard his moniker called out. Even with Thierry by his side now, it was always incredible to hear them call him. With a smile Thierry always greeted the nickname as she knew the happiness that her Zip had brought to so many women through his endeavor. Had he not been so kind and benevolent with other females they may have never met. Without a man like Zip running a publication Thierry would never have been a woman in his offices.

With this realization Zip snaps back to reality with the full knowledge that he is living the dream as he pats Thierry Ann’s leg once more while watching Francesca dive.

Share

Some people are okay with sharing... I don't share my men or fight over them. Sorry dolls! 

Here's a DMan... 

Do you share your partner in a relationship?

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

 

Double

(3-22-2011)

If there’s anything Montgomery Grant liked it was something that came in twos. And double of everything is what Montgomery strove to get. Although he it kept to himself he had a distinct predilection for such things and had developed his own personal philosophy: Three is a party while two is fun which is damn near impossible when you only have one.

Montgomery Grant was never one to miss his opportunity for doubling his pleasure or his fun. And this morning when he awoke was no exception.

It wasn’t quite noon when Montgomery Grant awoke. It wasn’t even close to midmorning when the sheets pulled back over his head and he came to realize that he wasn’t alone. Sweetly tucked between his lips rested the softest most tender part of flesh attached to a blonde woman who lay face first upon him as her waist rested on his abdomen. Both her arms lay outstretched above her head bound tightly to his. Below he could feel his legs unable to move. The restraints allowed for little give but it was an uncomfortable pain that he didn’t mind. Although he couldn’t see her face he could hear her breathing sounds. It wasn’t talking but the sound of her breathing had a unique throaty quality that distinctly reminded him of words. Reacting to his carnal instincts Montgomery began to run his tongue along the edge of his lips allowing it to graze this newfound flesh. For every soft lick the blonde released a louder vocal breathe between her sounds.

Which brought Montgomery to the next realization, there were two of them but they were not alone. Somewhere in the corner of his eye Montgomery could make out another head of blonde followed by a pair of wandering blue eyes that completed her face. The other eyes were attached to the movements below the waistline of the resting blonde. She was encouraging the first blonde with her touch. Between the warmth of his tongue and the run of her fingers the bound blonde let out deeper faster sounds that couldn’t be deciphered other than pure pleasure.

He couldn’t see what she was doing but he could feel that the unseen woman was now giving him a hand in the most generous way. Lost to the moment he continued to let her help him along. Working her hands in the most delightful ways letting him grow with anticipation before positioning her body to fully delight in his lower attributes. Although he couldn’t see the movements of the second woman, the feeling she was giving made Montgomery appreciate his newfound situation.

Sometime before mid-afternoon they had finished their business with each other and the pair of blondes lay at rest upon Montgomery’s bare torso. Short red nails met the corner of his eyes as he turned his head to catch his breathe. Exhausted, he could feel his own hair sticky with sweat and his tired arms still tightly bound to one woman whose resting breath reminded him of a kitten purring. More revealed the other woman remained firmly rested upon him as her tired body lay against his bound companion. Pieces of her blonde her hair tickled his face as it fell over the woman’s shoulder while her resting hands cupped the soft fleshy breasts that had earlier filled his mouth.

Montgomery began to wonder what had happened. Before awaking he hadn’t the slightest idea how he had come to this strange yet satisfying position. It had been Sunday when he went out although it wasn’t a blonde he caught. At least that’s what he had thought when he tried to remember. Distinctly in his memory there were two red-heads that made up his mind but he had to be wrong.

While his mind continued to wander the shift of red nails went unnoticed as they untied. Awake and moving the pair began to work again. Carefully the weight of his newly free bound companion shifts to reveal her face as she finds a new home between his legs. A look of sheer pleasure comes over her face as she finds him curiously willing. With a turn of a head she smiles and nods to the other blonde who then carefully maneuvers herself between Montgomery and her friend before starting in.

Nightfall is when Montgomery awoke to find he is alone in the middle of the room. Sore and unrestrained he questions whether he had dreamt it all when a knock at the door jars him to the present.

As he opens the door Montgomery Grant comes to a moment where two meant so much more than he could have ever dreamt. For outside the door stood double red hair with a familiar face greeting him with a smile that said it all.

Need

In Buddhism all life is precious. Your life is precious too! Your body filled with life is yours to care for. Which you don't deny yourself needs, but you must be mindful of them. Which is why sex seems like a distraction in the path of seeking enlightenment. Why?

Sex is much like Eating. It's a basic human need that can never be satisfied. You eat to fill your appetite. Then you are fine until you're hungry again. You have sex to fill your appetite for... And so on. This can be distracting if you want inner peace and have no self discipline.

Sex isn't a bad thing but an interesting human need that we fulfill. And it's good if you let it be. So the deal with sex is simple. With food there are great ways to nourish your body & then lazy easy ways that taste good but don't feel good later. Sex is no different. 

There's one night stands which is probably the equivalent of fast food or candy. Quick satisfying but don't always feel great later. Then there's casual sex with someone you know which is closer to dining at a fine restaurant but still lacking in something for you emotionally. And the sex you have in a relationship is like a home cooked meal & emotional/spiritually fulfilling. A meal at home is good for your mind body & spirit if you took the time to put effort in it. So is sex.

Now I'm not saying you shouldn't eat fast food or at restaurants every night, I'm saying your body is yours to care for. Choose what works best for you. And know that...it's okay.

Realize though there are some men & women who don't take NO for answer... When it comes to sex. Personally I have given NO to and taken NO as a valid answer from a man in response to an invitation... 

Besides ladies & gents save the demanding queries for when a woman or man owes you money, work or a promise. And then well she or he only has themselves to be accountable for their word.

Here's another DMan. Do you eat out a lot? Ha. 

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

Didn’t

(4-6-2011)

Some girls will take no for answer.

Not this one.

Not this time.

“I didn’t have a choice,” is what he thought as he steadied the razor sharp shards of glass in his hand. The length of the puddle ran the length of his restless arm as it moved. Her head lay split wide open to reveal the slow thickness of blood spilling outward onto the Italian marble floor. The red on white tile was a startling contrast to his eyes. Trying to convince himself that there was no other way Victor pulled another shard from her lifeless body. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Over and over he kept thinking that there was something else he could have done. But there was no other way to do it because Carmen never gave anyone a choice.

When she wanted something she went after it full throttle.

Carmen Sandoval was the kind of girl you wanted to hang out with. She was pretty, tall, slender, big breasted and all the guys wanted to fuck her. And most of them probably did. Asking Carmen out meant one thing to everyone in the neighborhood and Victor knew it. That’s what made it hard to believe when he did it. Victor wasn’t the type of guy that followed when all the others did. But today Victor Vargas was the guy that got to hang out with her.

Victor Vargas was hardly a man with gumption. If Carmen hadn’t asked him for help with her flat tire in the middle of the parking lot at the grocer’s they might have never met. And if they had never met Victor was quite certain they never would have spent more than five minutes in the same room, let alone in the same company.

At least that’s what he thinks. In the back of his mind Victor wanders through the moments trying to piece together the puzzle of what happened before this moment where he’s standing over the bloody mess.  Like the missing parts of a dream he can barely recall the details of her before it happened.

The bare parts of her body look saintly in stillness. A purity that remains absent from the fragments of his memory that fall back together in his mind. With his eyes following the bloody line between her upper torso and lower hip bone Victor realizes that he warned her from the start. She didn’t heed his warning. Even though he was hardly to blame for what happened, somewhere in his mind he remembered giving a warning.

“I’m not a courageous man,” he told her when she invited him out. And he wasn’t. But Carmen didn’t listen to him when he said it. This was because women never listened to Victor. It was something he’d grown accustomed to over the years. Now Victor couldn’t say he didn’t mind because he did. He simply wanted to know about her when he accepted the invitation. And as she rambled on about sex and drugs he wanted her to know what he was about.

“Don’t expect me to do something that I’m not going to.” He interrupted her talking and talking with plans about what’s going to happen next. While walking to the house Carmen had it all worked out and Victor couldn't be in more disagreement when they reached the door.

“I didn’t mean to turn you on.”

 “Didn’t. So many things that you didn’t mean to do. Well it’s a shame now that it has to be this way. You’re staying for a drink.” She says.

“I’m going to go. It was fun. Maybe another…”

“Victor. I’m sorry. You don’t have to. Don’t. Stay.” she pleads.

But the words may as well be silent because he knew that nothing could change. Especially not with her.

He’d gone along with the evening despite knowing what Carmen was like. Victor kept hoping for a chance to know her. To see a change in her that showed a different side that never came. He knew what she was like when he took her home and in fact it was the one time when Victor was certain that NO meant no as she plead with him further. Good night was all he had in mind, but that was anything but what she wanted when she asked him to stay for a drink.

What she wanted happened in the kitchen next to the stove next to a drawer full of knives. It could have been the knives but it wasn’t and it happened faster than Victor had time to take it all in. Carmen opened a beer and reached for his hand. At least he thought it was his hand she wanted when the bottle dropped and  she quickly made her move for his pants. Victor didn’t have to do it but he did. He moved. A slight step to the right and she wasn’t paying attention when the base of her heel went out from under her in the liquid.

Back, back, back she fell into the golden pool of foamy wetness to meet her end.

As the color of red washed over her beautiful face, Victor wondered if there was more to Carmen than her oversexed libido. He suddenly wanted to know about her. And it was too late for all that when she stopped breathing. “I didn’t have a choice because you didn’t give me a chance.”  And with that Victor Vargas lay the sharp glass down gently with his sharp words before saying goodnight.  

The Kindest Kind

“If someone says something unkind about you, live so no one will believe it.” – Dalai Lama

The Dalai Lama often is someone I look to for the questions, answers and guidance when there are none for me to seek out. I delight in the joy of the world. The simple pleasures. As of late, I have not been able to focus totally on the joy in simply living. I am faced with a unique conundrum. It is an unkindness and it continues despite my efforts to try and quash the rift. 

There is a person who I assume does not like me, yet wishes to be more like me. The situation confuses me to no end. I find it very awkward to have someone traipsing through my friends list to add more people so we will have them in common, imitating my interests for more commonalities, rebuking my support, refusing to be supportive of my creative efforts yet copying them and then making untrue conversations about my personal life. All I can do is continue to live as the Dalai Lama says so no one will believe the awfulness. Yet I now have to. I am faced with having to dispel an rumor thanks to an uncomfortable convo yesterday. In order to protect a guy friend (or two?) of mine from slander I am sharing more about moi than I really care to...

For the record, I'm not dating anyone. I didn't date anyone or had a date with anyone in about 3 months because I haven't had the time or rather I haven't met anyone who he & I mutually wanted to make time in our busy lives for dating each other. 

However, herein lies the trouble... I have had the pleasure of spending time with a few different friends who I adore and are all great fellows. They really deserve the best; as perfect of women or men as their eye beholds... but they are guys who truly think nothing more of me than as a gal pal and again I see them as a dear friend. To imply that they are or ever were anything more than a friend is vicious and cruel to whomever they are currently dating or talking to. It's not appropriate to spread lies. Now I am ecstatic when any of my friends meet someone special and I am very protective of that for them. I'm uncertain why an untruth is being propelled. But ladies... If you want to date a guy tell him or ask him! Lady rules: Don't trash other women or men for an in with anyone. It will come back to you dolls! It's not cool.

Furthermore I don't think its cool to selectively chase men and force them to date you, so I don't do it. I talk to men and much like other people I might flirt with a cute guy but not behave badly. Certainly not with my friends. I may joke & flatter them but it's all in good energy if you really get to know me. I like to build people up because most people are always trying to tear others down. I'm not saying you rule out your friends for love, if things evolved naturally with a friend it would be great for both parties. It works or it doesn't. Friends don't want anything from you but your happiness. So it may work for you. 

Personally I think if a man to decides if he wants to be in your life romantically he will ask you out on a date properly. Or make his intentions known. It shouldn't be forced. Bottom line: If a guy is a gentleman with intentions of getting to know you & wanting more than friendship he says so, then makes true on it and understands if you don't want to. Gentlemen take the lead. If a guy doesn't... he chooses your friendship without complaint. Gentlemen don't complain or put down women to others for not going to bed with them. There is no friendzone! Shy guys will step up. Don't confuse that.

Gossip is needless and I don't like rumors and hearsay because it's unkind. They are hurtful untruths that cause pain to others. People truly could think to get clarification before believing or repeating anything anyone says. Buddhism insists you learn the answers for yourself before accepting them as truth and trust no one but yourself for that task. 

My advice to anyone, if you don't like someone stop bothering with knowing their friends, trying to see who they are with, following them around town or talking shit about them. I'm going to keep living because I enjoy what I do, who I know and where I go...

Accidental run-ins are fun for me personally and I love those with people who actually want to see moi when I'm paying attention. 

So this story is the one of the D-men...  Because there aren't always the nicest fellows in the world. Now in hindsight... Not always the nicest ladies either.

IT's NOT ABOUT ANYONE!!!! The stories are just stories! Not a double meaning or life lesson. If you get one... Great, you get one. If not, enjoy it. They aren't personal. It's sad to watch someone spin out over fiction because it's just words. And the D-women are coming. It's been a fun hiatus from sharing and I won't post many. I plan to publish this round. As I'm needing to step back again from writing. 

Please be well and be kind to each other. Love yourselves. The more you love yourself the less likely you will be to harm others. Rumors and lies harm others despite that they are simply words. Don't spread them. You could easily be saying something untrue about your mothers/fathers, grandma/grandpa, daughters/sons, sisters/brothers and friends/cousins. Think about how unhappy it feels for anyone and try to be The Kindest Kind of person you can be.

Enjoy!

Kisses, m. 

Dick

(3-28-2011)

“Dick!”

An open-handed slap accompanies the sharp tongue attached to an irritated woman who has already stormed away as people look on in the otherwise quiet restaurant. It’s a face and name I haven’t seen or heard in a while, but that doesn’t make this moment any less satisfying to watch.

Most women never forget about Dick once they met him. I know cause I never could.

After his date left the table Richard Blackwood sat very still with a smug smile on his face and motioned for the waiter to bring over another bottle of wine. Richard Blackwood was used to hearing his name spoken in this manner. In fact he often took great pleasure in hearing it roll off the tongue of women. He most definitely enjoyed being the thing that rolled out of their mouths. And by ‘this manner’ I am of course referring to the condescending tone. However, to Richard when hearing his name the tone mattered very little at all. Not nearly as much as hearing them say it like that…

Dick.

Whether it was breathy, brash or baritone Richard Blackwood couldn’t seem to get enough when a woman said his name. And in the end they all said it.

Just like that.

Richard Blackwood was an arrogant man with a knack for making everything unpleasant.  He insisted that everyone he met call him Dick. Some women often found this request a bit hard to swallow and were instantly offended. Dick took this opportunity to make their embarrassment as humiliating as possible. Often chastising those women by remarking, “Now a little Dick never hurts now and again, unless you want it to.”

To say he wasn’t a nice man would be a rash understatement. There wasn’t a single person that could stand Dick for more than five minutes. Something was awful in everything he said, especially about others. With his nasty attitude Dick could hardly be mistaken for a human being let alone find himself filled with any type of compassion.

And that was the proverbial icing on the cake.

For you see, Dick Blackwood had the ability to encourage others to see things as miserably as possible and relished in it. Dick could find the unhappiest person in a room and make them feel worse. If ever you doubted your position while standing on the window ledge twenty stories up, Dick would have no problem helping you find your motivation… to jump.

Honestly who wouldn’t after talking to Dick? You might jump, if meant getting away.

Although Dick was far from superior he had something a woman might put up a fight for. Something about the way he wore his pants too tight helped to demonstrate the reason that outweighed his obnoxiousness.

Some men are simply attractive by the qualities they possess. Charm. Finesse. Attitude. Dick wasn’t one of those kinds of men. Attractive came with the package. Like a hotel perk it was a great room with a view that happened to be located in the acid-tripping smoking section. And like the poorly misplaced hotel room, the self -serving arrogant condescending qualities were just the tip of the iceberg. Below the shallow surface lay a man that could only be described in one way…

DICK!

Dick is the kind of man your mother ought to have warned you about, except that chances are she probably wasted her time on him as well. For despite his shortcomings, he definitely had a way with women. An unprecedented way of getting them to do exactly as he wished before making sure they never stuck around for too long. At least that’s what he liked to believe. As with a man like Dick you have to understand he believes he has an agenda. Unbeknownst to him, this way with women had nothing to do with him.

You see, all a woman really wanted from Dick was to come between him and his pants and sometimes that meant more than she bargained for.

Someone might tell you a silence is worth a thousand words. Well that person never met Dick. Dick almost never shut up. He might tell you that your hair is all wrong or that you look like your left leg is shorter than your right. This is before telling you that you’re almost as pretty as the old woman sitting next to you. All of this and more guaranteed to get you to talk to him when talking to him was the last thing you wanted to do.

Somewhere between introducing himself and chatting with a woman he would start in. Slowly but surely he would look for a tiny vulnerability that guaranteed he wouldn’t stop talking. If only to prove that he was completely right by making you completely miserable, but by that point it’s too late. Invested in the stock of flesh and unable to pull out. You’re already in too far to turn back now.

Dick Blackwood happened to be anything but charming when he crossed my path. I met him on the street with his tight pants and unpleasantness. Something on the inside may have told me to go the other way when he said hello but instead I smiled back. And once he started in I couldn’t get enough. I found myself agreeing to so much more than dinner and drinks before I could stop.

Dick used insult and unpleasantness to get what he wanted. Thinking it worked, as it had so many times before, he continued because Dick liked it when he got his way. More than anything else he was contented to recognize this. So it came to me as no surprise when his lack of regard and vanity extended well beyond his introduction.

Dinner with Dick was an exercise in restraint. Everything he had learned about me became fodder for insult. It was always how I was inadequate and when I wasn’t the rest of the restaurant was completely worthless. And when the rest of the world wasn’t worthless he was telling about all the things he wanted to do after he took me home if I didn’t ruin things. My ruining things wasn’t the problem I had worried about when he kept talking. But he continued.

After the first course I stayed when wanted to leave. Even after I thought I had enough of him I remained. When I remember how I wanted to walk away from the table I was wondering how anyone got into bed with this man. Then I realized if I had walked away at dinner instead of putting up with a little more I might never have understood why women took as much as they did from Dick…

Control.

It was the piece of the man that you had right from the start. 

When I think back to that night when I separated that man from his pants. I remember how I let Dick roll off my tongue more times than I can count. And I know what it was that I couldn’t forget. It was the power of knowing what sent that man spinning. Spinning because he thought he had the upper hand and knowing that in one word he couldn’t get enough. And remembering how I walked away from a man like that because it was my decision when I came and left from his life. Something smug continues to widen his grin across from me, when I realize what it is. As he’s pouring the wine his date is coming back. And I can’t blame her. I might have done the same thing.