Black Women, Responsibility, and HIV Prevention

It is safe to say I am obsessed with all things Formation. I have seen the shows with pundits breaking down the subliminal messages of the video and SBO50 half-time performance, real or imagined, and read the articles that also dissect the messages in the video. I’ve looked into the back story of the clips she used and learned about Messy Mya and watched That B.E.A.T.. By the way, I totally understand why the directors were so upset that so much of their footage made it into her video and took to Twitter to be receive their just credit.

In all of that, the article that hit me at my core was the one written by Ashley Innes and posted on HIV Equal Online. In the article Ms. Innes echoes what I have been saying for years to anyone who will listen: As women, we have to take responsibility for our own sexual health. We cannot lay down that right at the doorstep of the bedroom, and we cannot blame our partners if we are not actively engaged in our protection. We are not victims. We are grown women doing whatever we want, and so we have to be accountable for our choices. Read Ms. Innes’ plea for us to get in Formation here .

Let's Talk - TBT

“Hello.”
“Hey girl. I have a story to tell about the other night.”
“Did you go see him?”
Laughter echoes through the phone.
“Well, talk to me!”

The story begins with the question:

“Why are you here?” I can hear him question me and my intentions. I try to smile and give him my usual flip remark. He leans in closer and again asks, “Why are you here?”

The way he is looking at me; even in the dimness of the candlelit room I can feel the intensity. My thighs are sweating and my heart is pounding. I’m a little nervous about what may come next. Was I too forward, coming over here at this time of night, with such a short dress on, nothing underneath? Have I misread his intentions?

As these thoughts are flowing through my mind, he reaches out, pulls me up from the sofa and turns me around, placing his arms around my waist. This time he whispers in my ear, “Are you here for company or sex?” I can barely reply, “I’m here for both.” He begins to gently kiss the back of my neck. Mmmmm, his lips are so soft. I can feel the butterfly wings fluttering in my stomach. He guides me down the dimly lit hall into his bedroom. Maxwell’s ‘Til the Cops Come Knockin’ has grown faint.

The bedroom is as expected, stylish with contemporary furniture fitting of someone with his taste; and more candles. He leans me across the bed and returns to kissing and licking the back of my neck. A few minutes go by and he steps back and pushes my dress up around my waist to admire my ass. I feel his hands caress my thighs, my cheeks, my swollen lips. And then he’s gone. I am so enthralled that all I can do is continue to grip the sheets in heated anticipation of his return. My patience is soon rewarded as he returns and now positions my right leg on the bed so that he can enter my waiting pussy from behind. I can feel my sugawalls adjust to his thick, latex-covered dick causing me to grip the sheets tighter. The slow, rhythmic motions of his hips and the workings of his fingers on my ass and my clit are driving me crazy. I feel myself about to cum after only a short time of this clitlicious attention. Just then he whispers in my ear, “Let it go”. He nibbles on my earlobe and continues chanting, “Let it go.” And with his coaching I do let go and my body begins to shake uncontrollably. It’s late and I don’t want to disturb his neighbors so I bury my face into the bed so as to stifle my screams of ecstasy. After a few seconds or so, I begin to calm down; I’m not shaking as much, my breath begins to steady. But he wants more. He tells me not to stop as he continues massaging my clit until I am cumming again.

Seconds become minutes, minutes become hours and he only stops long enough to tantalize my feet, my legs, my breasts with his hands, his lips, his tongue. There are moments of laughter, passionate kisses, and silent stares intermingled with the moans and screams of pleasure. I’m pleading with him to stop, but don’t stop, ecstasy; oh, sweet rhapsody. I feel as though I’m suspended between two life planes. Lawd, who is this man that has, in one night, erased months of loneliness and neglect, and calmed the hunger inside that threatened to devour me?

Our bodies have finally come to rest with legs intertwined. Through half-closed eyes I can see the flicker of the candle’s flame, and Maxwell is again singing in the background about making love until the cops come knocking.

Good Lovin'

This is a #TBT from way back. Some of you who knew me from the other site will recognize this...

Have you ever had that good loving I mean really good loving that made you just want to shout, or hum or sing?

That kind of loving that made you want to tell everyone that you spoke to about it?

I've had that kind of loving

Everything was perfect from the layout of the room to the smell of his cologne

The way he touched my body sent walls crumbling and I could feel ME

The real me coming back to life after years of being hidden beneath LIFE and all that brings

The sensual, sexy, soft me

The adventurous me

The me that wants to please my partner just as much as I want to be pleased

We spent time caressing each other, massaging away whatever stressors we may have had on the other side of the door

Listening to each other breathe, head to chest, wrapped up in each other; Just breathing together

Taking it all in

Thinking, but not thinking

Then a hand brushes against a thigh, caresses a cheek, and our heartbeats increase

Lips seek out lips

Legs wrap around legs

Backs arch

Hips grind

Fingers tantalize

Words are whispered

Positions change

Breath is lost

Bodies tense

The time/space dimension is shattered

Bodies relax

Breathing slows

Legs wrap around legs

Lips seek out lips

A hand brushes against a thigh, caresses a cheek

The Confession

I was stunned by his reaction. Ok, seeing me may have been a surprise, but instead of being happy to see me, he seemed angry that I was there. I couldn’t ask about it because it was time for him and the rest of the band to go back on stage. I sat at the bar and ordered a drink. Throughout their set I couldn’t really enjoy myself because I was wondering what kind of mess I had walked in on this night. Did he invite someone else out? Would this be a throwback to our early days where epic public scenes made us infamous in some circles?

I sipped on my drink while texting and checking Facebook in between listening to the bar tender chat up the couple next to me. The band finished with their set relatively early. It wasn’t even 11pm; I was used to gigs where we might not leave until 1 or 4am. He asked if I would wait. I said ok. Out the corner of my eye, I saw an older woman come from the other side of the club and stop in front of the stage. She was apparently waiting for him to walk her to her car, which he did. I sipped on another drink trying to keep my anger from rising. I couldn’t believe he had me wait for him so he could walk some other woman out the door after the “welcome” he had given me. But, she could have been a potential opportunity for future business, so I needed to stay cool and not jump to any conclusions.

When he came back in, he asked if I would follow him to his rehearsal. Again, I said ok. I was waiting for my opportunity to confront him and since rehearsal had supposedly already started, it wouldn’t take that long. I followed him in my car to the spot. We literally went from the club to the church. I sat in the front pew of the cold church exchanging text messages with him, trying to stay awake while they reran particular parts of songs over and over again. Finally, around 1am he asked if he could leave and so we did. I had planned to just go home from there, forget confronting him, I was ready to go to sleep, but once we were at our cars he asked if I would follow him to his house. I protested at first, but soon gave in. I did however, put him on notice that he would not be getting any on this night.

We were standing in his room. There was very little light. I was standing at the head of his bed. He was standing at the foot of the bed. I started to take off my boots when he said, “I went to the health department today”.
“OK, why are you going to the health department? Where’s your regular doctor?” I asked.
“Why do people go to the health department?” He asked.
I shrugged and continued taking off my boots.
“I had a blood test.” He replied.
I stopped what I was doing and looked up at him. “What do you need a blood test for?” My brain was still clueless, but by the way my heart was beating, my body knew what he was telling me without telling me. And then he dropped it on me.
“I tested positive for HIV.”

II