Tuesday, April 18, 2017

I Hate This Obsession We Have With Side Chicks

I have a confession to make to the world. I hate this obsession we have with side chicks and main chicks. 

In Hiphop the battle of side chicks and main chicks is popular. Tons of songs are made where singers are fighting to be the main chick for a man, or men are highlighting having both. On national television, especially Love and Hiphop, watching women argue over whose really the washed up rapper or producer's man's woman has become entertainment. In sports and Hollywood, there's a stigma that men who can afford it deserve to have several women besides the woman they publicly claim. For us everyday women that are aiming to better our lives, these titles are a problem. 

Why would any woman want to be called a side chick or a main chick? We are someone's daughter. Some of us are mothers and sisters. We are students, employees, and some of us are entrepreneurs. We have goals to make our lives better than our current circumstances. We continuously raise the bar and we even try to add the love of a significant other to the equation. It's bad enough that we experience losses when it comes to professional careers, but some of us tend to run into bad situations when it comes to love. 

I've had my moments where women approached me or used their friends to ask me about their men. The very first time it happened was in 2010. I knew the woman from living in the same dorm my freshman year of college, but I didn't know her well enough to know her dating life. Well, at a party before graduation day, a man was flirting heavily with me in front of everyone. No one said anything in the moment. They just watched and someone even took a picture of it. The woman was there too and saw. Later on she had one of her friends ask if I was trying to hook up with her man. It was embarrassing because I knew then they were trying to label me as something I was not. At the time I was trying to focus on getting a job and not playing the games. 

I've had my moments where men approached me saying they were interested in me. Initially they didn't state that all they wanted was sex. They tried to fake like they were interested in my mind, but then they would eventually say they only wanted sex. Not every man was lucky to experience me, but I've said yes to some. During none of those situations did I consider myself some woman on the side for them. I asked questions to ease my own mind on the decisions I was making. I didn't want to be disrespecting another woman or feeling like a man was playing me. I wanted to make sure the situations were just two single adults making decisions to spend intimate time together. Even in the future when I'm with a man, it'll be two single adults making intimate decisions or my man and I making the decision to be intimate. Outside of those moments, I am that entrepreneur striving for a life that'll leave a smile on my face. 

When I look at the next woman, I always wonder what her goals are. What is she striving for in life? There are women that will proudly answer the question with the dream occupation or even their dream family life. None of us should be worried about whether we are side chicks or main chicks because we are so much better than these stupid titles. 

This came to my mind recently after a male friend told me about a situation where a woman wanted to turn into him a side nigga. He was devastated that anyone tried to play him like that, so I explained to him that he's no one's side man. He's so much better than that and should never let a woman try to reduce him to that level. 

Wednesday, April 12, 2017

NaNoWriMo: Her Dependable Boy Toy (Another Writing Preview)

The following story was written for a friend. He told me about a phone call he'd received from a former friend with benefits. A couple weeks before this phone call he had suggested I write a story featuring a Mexican, Jewish, or White man. I chose to use the names of Latin singers in the story. I even added a little Spanish. The Spanish is my favorite part of this because I don't actually speak or know the language. 

Disclaimer: I took the names from two different lists of sexy Latin singers.  For all I know, they have nothing to do with each other except for being famous. Also, this is not a sex story. It's a sensual story. 


“Hurry up,” Anahi, Juanes former lover had said earlier that night. “I’m aching to feel you between my legs again.”

“I’m on my way.” 

“I have on a very short dress with nothing on under it. You’re going to take it off. And my red lipstick, if the night goes as planned I won’t be wearing it long. Also, my long brown curly hair is hanging past my shoulders for you to pull.” 

“Ooh, la la.” Juanes said as he imagined the image in his mind. 

“And don’t try to be romantic either. This is just about sex. Yo sólo quiero cogida. You’re gonna please me. I’m gonna please you. And then we are going to act like it never happened until we both need it again.” 

“Okay, nos vemos pronto bebe.” 

It had been a whole year, but Juanes was at Anahi’s front door once again. He had reservations about seeing her. At one point they were regular fuck buddies, but then one day he called and her phone went to voicemail. Juanes then called a handful of times after that, but his calls were never answered or returned. He figured she had moved on. However, a few weeks ago his phone rang and it was Anahi. She was ready to start where they had left off. 

Should he do it? Should he open himself up to consistent sex once again knowing that they would never progress to anything more. He had never even given her his best in the bedroom. When they met up it was average sex. They went through the motions with different sexual positions, but he was always just trying to bust a nut and leave once they were done. His final decision to say yes to the sex was because of a female friend he regular spoke to on the phone.

“I’m not so sure about this,” she said. “It sounds like she’s using you. But she’s very brave with her approach. It would hurt her if you were to turn her down after she built up the courage to get in contact with you again.” 

It took him approximately 30 minutes to get to her house. On the way there, he stopped to buy 12 red roses for the amount of time they’d been apart. He also grabbed chocolate covered strawberries because they were her favorite chocolate desserts. 

 There's more, but in order to read the full story you'll have to wait for the book. 

Monday, April 3, 2017

Ratchet Nursing Rhymes by Lashuntrice (National Poetry Month)

Everyone knows that I can write super serious poems and stories, but sometimes I like to have fun with my talent too. The following poems I wrote were inspired by Trap music. I called them Ratchet Nursing Rhymes.

Pass On Him 
(Inspired by O.T. Genesis and 2 Chainz song Thick) 
I can’t even pass on him 
Once he flash all the damn cash at me 
J C Penny’s 
He let me get anything I want
So I went on a Fashionva shopping spree
All about my money 
So I’m spending all his money 
Bad boy with a good attitude
And his pockets thick too
He say he famous, he say he from Hollywood 

Super Freak
(Inspired by Rick James, I just changed some words) 
He's a very kinky man 
The kind you don't introduce to your daddy 
He will never let your spirits down 
Once you get him in the bedroom, ooh boy

He likes the women on the corner 
He says that I'm his favorite of all time 
When I make my move to his room 
It's always the right time 
He's never hard to please 

Oh, No! 
This man is pretty wild now 

(Inspired by Ja Rule and Ashanti song) 
I got a fetish for getting fucked by you 
Up against the wall
On the backstreet in the back seat of the Yukon
Or in my bed is where we’re both most comfortable
What's taking so long? I'm getting anxious
But patiently waiting for you to tell a me to move on
You’re not the type to stick around long 
But between you and me, you inspire me
Ideas for new love stories
Or I could just gossip to the girls about how you healed my broken heart 
I ain't tryin to G you, boy I'm tryin to see you
For you, I’ll bend over, let you get it from the back
Bring heat to coldest night, so ferocious
Now you got me street promoting how the dick game is potent

That's What It's Made For 
(Inspired by Usher) 
He thought he'd hit it and quit it in just one night
And I was prepared to let him go 
But it got so good he kept coming back 
I must have been outta my mind
I kept answering the phone saying
"Yes, you can come on over."
Knowing I don't wanna
Knowing he's not the one
But every time I felt him pulling away 
I held on that much tighter 
Guess it's too late to turn back now
Can't apologize cuz that ain't my style
He got me blinded by lust
Got me up in his hear saying
"I got what you came for"
"This here got your name on it"

(Inspired by Usher & Wale) 
My sincerest apologies, I mean it
I'll admit it, the thought of love makes me pathetic
I'm 30 still never been a bride at a wedding
Guess the idea of never saying “I Do” doesn’t sit with me well
It’s not your fault love escapes me, still I chase it
Cause I'm selfish and I need you to myself
Tryna see you be free, but don’t wanna see you happy without me
And when I fail over and over again all I can do is cry
And you don’t seem to care
Cause when I enter your city, you leave with pride
I'm sorry, and I'm staring at your comments
Fearin' it's gone always be me sharin' you with all them
Wrong, how dare I say ignore them?
But I’m selfish so I’ll always say fuck them
It's easy, you know to fight temptation
Out here, you know my feelings are strong
Never run away from your heart
Giving you my all, even my writing is all about you 
I'm right
And I'm promisin' you better than those hoes
Although friends sayin' let him go
It’s you I want
I can’t give up now. I can promise you forever 
And if forever ends, there’s another forever that we can still be together

Disclaimer: The pictures are not mines. 

Sunday, April 2, 2017

NaNoWriMo: Here's A Preview of What I'm Working On

Inspired by National Writing Month.

It is one of those months where authors who have been lacking in creativity are forcing themselves to start a new novel based off the motivation of others doing it at the same time. I actually started working on some stories for a future book a month ago and I'm ready to reveal an excerpt. Are you ready to read it? Warning: It's a little explicit. 

Prostitute Fantasy 

I wanted to hold on to the moment, so I watched Q sleep. His real name was Quinton, but I called him Q. 

I had gotten up to turn off the lights. Before moving, I could feel our hearts beating in sync. He was on his back sleeping peacefully. His dark chocolate skin had an after glow. The visuals from the television cast a perfect lighting. His dreads were spread out wildly. His boxers were halfway off of him with his dick still hanging out. He had fallen asleep in the middle of my living room floor immediately after we had sex. He was disguised as an angel and I was fighting the idea of falling for him. 

Our lust-filled relationship had started months ago on a random Sunday. Growing up Sundays were reserved for church, washing clothes, and naps. Even if I tried to sleep in by 8:30 am one of my parents would be in my room waking me up and telling me to get dressed.  Because of my lazy sleeping pattern, I would be counting down the minutes until church was over so I could eat. As an adult living on my own, I had abandoned the idea of waking up for church on Sundays. Instead, I would wake up and do whatever I wanted. I have no recollection of what I did before meeting him on that particular Sunday. However, so much happened the first time, I didn’t have time to really capture the moment. 

On this particular night I would take in everything. It all started with a phone call that happened approximately week before. After the first time we had sex, I didn’t hear from him. He didn’t call me and I didn’t bother to pick up the phone and call him either. I had a rule. If the relationship was built around only sex, the man had to get in touch with me. 

When he finally did call, I was standing outside on the side of a building near my apartment complex in some shorts and a t-shirt. It was a nice day for walking, so I had decided to get out. My headphones were in and music from my Itunes was on shuffle. All of a sudden the music stopped and my phone started ringing. 


“Hey, is that you I just saw on the side of the road?” 

“Yeah, I’m out here. That’s so random you would call.” I recognized Q’s voice right away. It made me tense up. I had made up my mind that I would never hear from him again. 

“Yeah,” he said while laughing a little. “I’m actually headed to work, but wanted to call when I saw you. Can I call tonight?”


He did call later on that night ready to see me, but I wasn’t ready for him.
Have you ever had men tell you that you did things to turn them on even though you weren’t trying? Well, just by being in that spot at that time, I gave him a prostitute fantasy that he could not get out of his mind until he saw me again. 

It was a random work night in the middle of the week when I let him fulfill whatever fantasy he had of me. But I didn’t need to stand outside again. I just needed to let him come over. At the time I was working from 3 pm until midnight, so I was willing to stay up for as long as he wanted. However, right after we finishing doing it in my living room, he immediately fell asleep. 

Why did we have sex in the living room? Well, years ago I heard Mariah Carey speak of the bedroom as a sacred place that you shouldn’t let everyone into. So I then decided that every man didn’t need to have access to my bedroom, but they would be allowed into other places of my house. 

Initially, I tried to wake Q up but then I left him alone. He had mentioned coming over straight from work. So I studied him. From the top of his head down to his feet, I took in every essence of who he was physically. Then I started to let my mind roam to who he might be mentally. Was he more than just some fuck boy? Did he have more to him than just sexual pleasure? How smart was he? What were his capabilities business and family wise? For some reason my mind wouldn’t let me wonder too far.  Instead Brandy’s song Angel In Disguise kept replaying in my head, except I changed the lyrics from her to him. 
“An angel in disguise he was,
But somehow you fell for him. 
Until he broke your heart that day 
And left you in the rain.”

There's more, but you have to wait for the book. I'll reveal the title and cover to you soon.