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Thunderstorms Provide A Valuable Lesson In The World of Attraction by Steve Amarante

She was simply stunning. Caramel skinned, soft welcoming seductive eyes, possessing a smile that can light up a room, I was hooked.  Approaching her became a necessity not a desire. As she entered the train I can see her headed towards the only empty seat available that was coincidental next to me. Faith, serendipity, whatever you want to call it, filled with years of training, my brain quickly sprung into action, setting forth body language, opening statements, conversation hooks, movement mirroring among just a few tricks of the trade.

My Jungle: Dating A Single Mother…

All my life I’ve avoided dating single mothers. The inherited stress associated with managing the complexity of dating a single mom was always enough reason never to ask one out. In retrospect it was never the complexity that scared me away. It was a lack of maturity. See, it takes a special kind of man, a mature man, to date a single mom. Dating “Trinity” signified a rite of passage in my dating evolution. It forced me to see the raw realities of single motherhood and in the process made me a better man. Where as I would think about dinner plans she wrestled with the concept of introducing a new guy to her kid. While I was focused on seducing her to sleepover she struggled with rules about overnight stays.

My Jungle: Penile Water Boarding—Adventures With “Trinity”

I gazed at the duct tape on my side table that haunted me for the past three weeks with a sense of wonder, anticipation and excitement. Trinity had a way of making the most mundane objects extraordinarily erotic. The sudden knock on the door sent a warm arousing awareness down the center of my back. She always refused to ring the doorbell; seemingly preferring the rhythmic sound of her knuckles against the wooden panel, a sensual rhythmic sound, that foreshadowed the night to come. She bounded my wrists and ankles with the fore mentioned duct tape. The stickiness felt awkward, out of place, definitely not romantic.  As she dimmed the light it felt a bit like an interrogation. Her eyes reveled a clear path; a path who’s intent was to deliberately and systematically dismantle my personal sexual identity. She was hell bent on descending me into the proverbial sexual gutter.

MyJungle: Skip The Hand Job, Go Monkey Style

She walked thru the door wearing only a trench coat. The sounds of her 3-inch heels clicking on my crooked wooden floors echoed with seduction as she strolled in.  Trinity removed her old-school oversized Jackie Onassis sunglasses, and dangled her purse that resembled a medic bag.  As I had become accustomed- she wasted no time and headed straight to my bedroom. Her 55-year-old Peruvian babysitter was on a tight schedule, which meant that she had no time to waste.

“I missed you—so I brought duct tape”
“Duct tape?”
“Yeah duct tape…” I couldn’t make the connection --it didn’t seem logical to me, but who was I to question her.

“Let’s skip the hand job-I just got my nails done”
“Excuse me?

My Jungle--Oral Nirvana

My vision was blurred and my right arm had a slight twitch. I can barely make out her silhouette as I recovered from my murky state. Could it be? Could I’ve “blacked out” or fainted? I lay in bed like a wounded fawn struggling to recall my last memory. “Did you like that baby?” I was partially tone death, so I couldn’t make out the rest of her sentence. It was as if someone had dropped a hand grenade and the sounds reverberated in my ear canal. But it wasn’t a grenade; it was 5’4” and weighed 115 pounds and simply put she rocked my world.  It certainly wasn’t the first time I had the privilege of meeting Madam fellatio, but fainting in pure pleasure??? At first I was amazed, then I was concerned. Anyone this good must have had plenty of practice. But I didn’t care—what guy would when his in a state of oral nirvana.

Scale Kissing to Build Passion In Your Relationships

Four years into the relationship and I pretty much knew it was over. What once started out as a passionate love affair turned into a boring friendship.  As the years passed, that desire to “stay connected” took a back seat to our daily routine. We pursued our careers and used our ambition to justify the lack of time we spent together. How could she not understand if I need to put in a few more hours at work? WE where saving up for that house right? Don’t forget that trip to Paris? It wasn’t long before I became her roommate—and ex- lover. I was lucky to get a peck on the cheek (on my brithday for that matter...) What happened? Could I have done something different?