What do the lonely do for Valentine’s?

This

 

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This is all I’ve got!

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Pass Me the Lighter!

I was determined I was going to do something for myself this week, and I decided I wanted a full body massage. So I got up this morning, called when they opened, and scheduled my appointment. I had already heard about this location (which I shall not name) and I was already told which massage therapist I should contact. Honestly, I forgot who I was referred to, so I just guessed. But baaaaaaay-by let me tell you, I chose the right one, yes ma’am yes sir I did.

And let me say this, and I know a few of you may cringe and may shun me to hell, and I’m good with that too, but listen, and every woman knows this whether she will admit it or not, but women ain’t no good if they don’t get some regular sexual maintenance. I mean just like you take care of your car every three (3) months, y’all need to be getting your own maintenance in the same way. Play like you are good and holy and celibate if you want, but some of you all got that Rabbit, Bullet or whatever else you call them in the top panty drawer, and pretending as if your natural bodily functions and hormones don’t come knocking on your vaginal walls like they do mine, especially, and I do mean especially if you are over 40. If you have a girlfriend or even you realize YOU are always grouchy, somewhere snapping, more negative than normal, trust me, all she/you need is some good D. Yep. But I am getting off task, I digress.

So yeah, this is exactly where I am.

This is the story of single-woman-over-40-in-Atlanta-and-sex-less for the last few months who went and had a full body massage today.

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I walked in early, 30 minutes early as a matter of fact, because I thought my appointment was at 1:15 pm. Either way, I was off work, and had nothing but time, and I knew I would beat the heavy rush hour traffic, so I was chilling and waiting on Justice (that isn’t his real name, but I do not want to incriminate anyone).  The air was filled with soothing music, and the tranquil sounds of water really relaxed me as I sipped on my cucumber and lemon water. Playing a game of Ruzzle while I waited, I was interrupted by a the sound of a male voice saying “Hi Marla, are you ready”. Why yes, yes I was ready.

Justice leads me to our room (yes I said “our”) and goes over my profile and customized hour and a half massage. Just the fact he asked “So you want deep pressure”, made my mind wander. I know, call me a freak, call me loosey goosey, hell I don’t care, it is what it is. So as I forced myself to focus and try not to sound like an old, hard up, horny old chick (but that is exactly what I was, minus the old part), Justice finish the questions and pulls back the sheets on the table then instructs me to “go ahead and get undressed and lie here, and I’ll be back in a moment to start our session”.  Well that was easy, I came prepared. I wore some multi-colored leggings with no draws, and a simple moteevators.com tee with a long, brown sweater. I got undressed so quickly, for one, I didn’t want to be cold, and I didn’t want him walking in while I was fully nude. I get on the table and cover up anticipating pure relaxation.

His hands moved down my neck and shoulders and back, and they were so strong, slightly forceful (which I asked for) and very deliberate.  Those hands, those palms, those fingers – they worked out every kink and piece of stress that was in my body. I lied there on my stomach closing my eyes as my face was head down in the head-rest and I imagined I was with someone I desired, somebody, anybody it didn’t matter; I imagined I was with someone I loved and these were his hands touching every inch of my arms, shoulders, lower back (whew God) and my Glutes…in other words my big ol booty. I was like “they do that too”, because I don’t recall any other massage therapist ever being that “thorough” ever. I actually lied there thinking to myself “wait, this is a full body, I wonder if full body means…” aaaah nevermind. I was not even a little bit uncomfortable with being completely nude in the presence of a stranger, not the least bit bothered these foreign hands were on me. These hands knew me, or at least I pretended they did.

Time was moving slowly, but fast at the same time. I didn’t have my watch on and couldn’t see a clock, but I knew that 90 minutes were going to fly by. I kept saying in my head, “take your time”. Every now and then he would find a stress point and really put the pressure on and remind me why I was there – for a massage. But when he took those hands and in a swirling motion worked my booty muscles from the small of my back, to slightly lifting the cheeks as he worked out the “stress”, I kept saying “please stay there, don’t stop”. Seriously, he could have just stayed there. Then Justice walked around the table, and he always walked and I could never tell he was moving, and he went to pull my left leg from under the cover and so carefully and skillfully fixed the sheet to cover the inner parts of my thigh.  This part of the massage really was just a relaxing part because there are no stress points in my legs.

There was nothing but silence in the room, and the way he worked my thighs, the soles of my feet, my toes, the backs of my knees, and how as massaged my thigh, his hands seemed to get ever so close to the inside of the sheet, I literally had to get myself together mentally. What was happening here? The silence wasn’t awkward, but I felt like we needed to talk, but then it really isn’t common place to hold conversations while getting a massage, at least I don’t.

Then it happened, I heard the words “alright Marla, turn over on your back”. I need to be whipped because in my head, in my daydreams in that dark room with tranquil music, all I could think was like yeaaaah, bring on the pectoral massage!

While on my back, I had to break the silence and I asked him “Justice, can I ask you a question”, and soon as I asked it, I got nervous and said “never mind”. He was so calm and asked, “are you sure”, so I mustered up the courage and asked. Y’all I asked. “Is it normal for women to be sexually aroused during massages”, and Justice said “yes it is absolutely normal Marla, it happens all the time. You have to understand there are endorphins that are released during a massage and raise the level of serotonin in your system”. I wanted to say yeah, yeah, yeah to all that, but all I know is Justice hands felt good to the touch, and all I know it was a man, and that is why I was aroused.

Wait, this is getting too steamy, besides he didn’t even massage the pectoral muscles. Now that would have been an entirely different story, I don’t think that would have been appropriate anyway. Justice, with his commanding and experienced hands continued to massage the nape of my neck, my ears, temples, and my head and then I heard the dreaded words, “well Marla our time has ended”. DAMN.  All I could think about telling Justice was “pass me the lighter”, and I don’t even smoke. But surely this qualifies as an after the act smoke right? Hell, I went home and made me a martini with Ketel One, I needed a stiff one!

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I left there discombobulated and couldn’t focus. I mean what just happened? It wasn’t the “happy ending” you hear about, but it was close enough; I felt relaxed, I felt stress free, and I felt good. My massage was everything I wanted today, it was something I will begin to treat myself to on a regular basis. I’m becoming a member and I’m getting on his books.

I had a good day off, I didn’t have an agenda and I took care of myself. I want to suggest all single women do the same. Oh well, back to reality, “with liberty and JUSTICE for all”!

Smooches sugas!

A Different Set of Rules

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I heard about it when I first moved here in the “networking” groups I am in. Matter of fact, it is partially why I was inspired to create this blog and share my experiences. At first I was like, ain’t no grown man playing these games now days, can’t be. However, slowly but surely, I think men are proving me wrong in Atlanta.

I know you’re probably wondering what in the world am I talking about. Here is the deal: in Atlanta it is an unwritten rule, but clearly a consensus, that when a guy asks a woman out for the first date, all that is needed is meeting up at a coffee house or at a book store or a bar so there is no money exchanged. Now, don’t get me wrong, I am good with this, I actually think it is a good idea because it is a relaxed atmosphere and you get a chance to talk and get to know someone in a non-pretentious environment. But here is where I twist my face a little bit (and maybe it is because I am REAL old school when it comes to dating, pursuing a relationship, and gender roles), men’s reasoning is they may not like a woman, so they don’t want to be out of maaaaaybe $40 for dinner and drinks on a woman. AND that there are professional daters out here so they don’t want to get played. *Sigh*  Seriously, I’ve heard this out of the mouths of MANY men here in Atlanta.

So here is the rule: If a man asks you out and says “Hey let’s get drinks”, you already know what the deal is. You better not order a meal when that menu comes, because chances are you are going to foot your own bill. Honestly, you should go expecting it. [SIDENOTE] I have to be careful here, because I just went on a fabulous date with a really nice gentleman, and he asked me out for drinks. I actually ordered food and made sure the server knew I was paying. I am not opposed to this type of date, I just want women to be aware that this is an unspoken rule.

Are men being cheap or cautious or both? Don’t get me wrong and all, I don’t have a problem paying for myself, I don’t have a problem with a coffee shop for the first date, but the way my thinking is set up, first impressions are lasting ones, and it’s hard to shake out of my head that our first meeting is about you saving money “just in case” we don’t work out. I mean, should I expect you to pay the second time, and how do you even address this entire situation? If he has a problem going on a “real” date the first time you meet, should there be an expectation that I should be prepared to pay every time? I mean how does all this work anyway?

Here is one of my main reasons I take a slight issue with this mindset. Men are ALWAYS on Facebook in these groups holding discussions about women who don’t want to submit, women who don’t know how to be feminine and let a man lead, women who are too independent, BUT they want to come out the gate trying to hold on to $40-$50 bucks and then want me to flip the switch and think he is capable of providing or not being a cheapskate.  I mean they want to hold on to traditional, societal gender roles, but they want to drop the ball when it comes to pursuing/dating a woman. I mean, hell is he at home with ketchup packets from McDonald’s squeezing them in his ketchup bottle? The last thing I want to do on a date is worry about if it is okay to order Ketel One for my martini. Shit.

Thankfully I really haven’t had to deal with this, but I have had my share of coffee house dates since I moved here. I always feel so underwhelmed, because it doesn’t lead to a longer phone calls on the ride home, it doesn’t lead to “hey you wanna go for a walk”, hell, it doesn’t lead to anything. Hell, maybe those guys just weren’t matches (clearly because I haven’t gone out with them again), but maybe, just maybe, we have all become too lazy and scared to take risks! I mean, we all should know sometimes you win some, and sometimes you lose. Get over it.

So yeah, I pretty much have a standard when I date men. I ain’t saying I’m a gold digger, I’m just not messing with no broke…well you know the rest.  The game has changed, and it’s a different set of rules out here in these streets! I guess I better familiarize myself with them….NOT. Ladies how do you feel about this? Have you experienced this? If a man doesn’t ask you out on a real date for the first date are you cool? I mean I am, it’s cool to me, but please know men, I am taking notes.  I just saw this on Facebook as a challenge to men, posted by a man, and I felt it fit perfectly with where I am! Now these rules I can live with!!

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Smooches sugas

 

Let’s get it on!

Feels like I haven’t been here to chat it up with you all in weeks. Well, it has been a couple of weeks. Two weeks ago, I was sick…like REALLY sick, I was out of commission for almost a week. I returned to work last week and still wasn’t 100%. But I’m back and better.

While I was gone there was so much I wanted to write about, I just couldn’t muster the energy.  I’ve forgotten half. But there are some things I want to talk about and I will this week.  So get ready.

But let’s talk about Valentine’s Day. I mean, I am used to not having one, although I did have a long distance “boo” last year. I am not stressing, I have never been one to get all excited anyway about this day anyway. But I am excited though, I’m going to a Celebrity Speed Dating event on Thursday at TI’s restaurant here in Atlanta, just in time to get a VDay date! Woo wee, I cannot wait. I KNOW I’ll have plenty to share from THIS experience!! I think love may be in the air, so let’s get it on!

I cannot wait to take pics on the sly and post them here. I am expecting some great content, as this will be my very first speeding dating experience. Wait, why am I sitting here getting nervous! You know I am going to have to find the perfect outfit that is a mixture between classy and refined and body con. Stay tuned.

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Smooches sugas