I want to talk about sex—lesbian sex, cause it's been on my mind a lot lately. I'm talking about that hot, electrifying, passionate, oh so tasty stuff that makes the blood rush to a gurl's clit and commands her nipples to salute. So to my non-lesbian, straight readers, proceed with caution.
It all began with my return to Chicago, this summer. I dated lightly to test the waters and concluded quickly that it was hot-as-hell; I decided to proceed with caution. A gurls gotta be careful—you know? Still, there'll come a time when she'll be challenged with a personal moment of truth, a moment where one bad decision can change her life forever. This normally occurs when you're engaging in a, fully clothed, kissing, licking, grinding and groping session. The sistah's sweet scent and soft skin causes you to hyperventilate. Your heart races and you become aware of the moistness between your thighs as her soft moans persuade you to press on. Time seems to stand still as that moment proceeds and the passion intensifies. It's clear that her now-erect nipples wish to free themselves from the fabric that's restraining them. So, a few buttons are undone, hands move to zippers or bra clasps. She whispers naughty words in your ear, and you playfully bite her lip, as both of your hands explore once forbidden parts of each other's body. You are definitely ready to do the damn thang; that is, until unwanted thoughts enter your mind. 'Is she clean? Any diseases? Should I?' This is the moment of truth that I'm speaking of, but at that moment, the answers are not easily found. It's a place where logical reasoning is replaced by raw emotion.
It's that place where a sistah is faced with a challenge of self-discipline based on her personal values. It's that place where she'll quickly access low-risk versus high-risk sexual activity because abstinence is out of the question. Thus, her moment of truth.
How have you dealt with this moment in your life? I've noticed that whenever I ask this question, sistahs generally give me the acceptable answer, 'She'll have to show me her papers first.' 'I love my body, so I don't play around.' 'We have to get tested first!' Yea, yea, yea, whatever! I fell for those lines for a minute. Most sistahs tell the lie that suits their purpose, or a lie that represents their true intentions (i.e. 'We really should get tested before having sex, but I can't wait.').
Now, I ain't hating on you gurls, I'm guilty too. It's hard to do the right thing when you have a 100-ton gorilla jumping up and down on your back yelling, 'Fuck her! FUCK HERRR! GET THAT PUSSY GURL!' When raw emotions take over, rational decision-making abilities vanish, and we worry about the consequences of our actions later.
Most of us have gotten away unscathed by STD's because it's simply a game of chance, it's similar to speeding, a few cars get caught but the majority get away.
As we age, however, many become increasingly aware of the dangerous sexual games that they've played. I honestly couldn't get enough when I was younger and had unsafe sex often; I was lucky. However, as an older adult, I realized that I no longer want to play Russian roulette with my life when it comes to sexual fulfillment.
Since my return, many servings of sweet biscuits and gravy have been offered to me, unfortunately I'm on a short-term diet—smile. As a result, that damn gorilla has gotten comfortable on my back and is driving me quite mad. Unfortunately, regrets, at this point in my life, are unacceptable, and as much as I hate Saran Wrap and dental dams, safe sex seems to be the only answer if ever faced with my moment of truth again—that is until my bachelor status is revoked; that'll be awhile cause, believe it or not, I'm kind of shy.
If caught early, drugs can cure syphilis, gonorrhea, chlamydia, genital warts, and a few other STD's, but herpes and HIV are forever. Play safe my sistah and enjoy a healthy life.