May 12, 2010
SAM SHARPE
Stacy was smokin’. She was thick. (In the best way imaginable. She was built like a smaller version of Serena Williams.) Everything about her body was perfect. Thighs that just begged for a pair of cut-off shorts. A flat tummy that breathlessly gave way to breasts that seemed to be giving a five star salute.
Well dread.
That’s what my cousin T and I said about her body. “Well dread.” (That was our way of saying she was healthy.)
And those lips. Stacy had the sweetest pair of lips I’ve ever had the pleasure of kissing. Lips softer than a whisper. But Stacy was easily the worst lover I’d ever had.
She lacked one crucial quality. The one quality that I think is overlooked when people talk about what makes someone a good (or at least attentive) lover…
CURIOSITY.
Think about it.
I wonder if he’s a good kisser.
What does her collarbone taste like?
How does she like to be kissed?
Look at him dance; I wonder if that translates into the bedroom?
God, I hope her nipples are thick.
I wonder if he’s packing?
It looks like he has tattoos? What do they say?
I threw that last one in there for Stacy. See, about eight months into our thang, we attended a friend’s barbecue. As the evening progressed and people became inebriated some random lady asked me about my tattoos (FYI, I have several tattoos on my arms and torso, with one prominently placed on my chest) and wanted to know how many I had and what they said blah blah blah. I played coy, so my interrogator turned to Stacy.
“C’mon girl, you gonna tell me you don’t know nothin’ about this fine piece of man’s tattoos. You don’t know what they say?”
“I never really thought about it,” Stacy said, shrugging. “I’ve never really paid attention.”
That was the rub. She just wasn’t interested (enough). She just didn’t care (enough). She just wasn’t curious (enough).
Stacy wasn’t interested in the obvious and superficial things like what my tattoos said, nor was she interested in finding out what turned me on. There’s a line of thought that people touch and make love they way the want to be touched. If that’s the case, then Stacy does not want to be touched. But I can tell you from first hand experience that she loves to be kissed, caressed, licked and held and…
I once tried to get Stacy to tell me what she liked, what she desired. How she liked to be touched. She gave me a Kanye shrug. Not surprisingly, she didn’t have any questions for me. What Stacy clearly didn’t understand is that though curiosity kills the cat, it also primes the p****.
.
So add to my list of relationship must haves…
A woman who is curious (enough) and cares (enough) to ask herself (and me) things like:
I wonder how he likes to be kissed?
What does he smell like?
Does he have hair on his chest?
Is he a shower?
Or a grower?
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how do you sleep with a guy for 8 months and not manage to find out what his tattoos say? or ask him what he likes in bed (wtf?)? i can’t believe that anyone can be so disinterested in their dude so early in the game.
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