Introduction
Several weeks before I turned 34, I began to ponder over my existence. Thinking what has been the most dominant presence in my life. For some, that may be a hard thing to do, but for me, it was simple; in a word “WOMEN.” Never being attracted to the things that tend to rob men of their dignity; guns, alcohol and or drugs. I always found myself surrounded by women, whether in my thoughts, dreams or fantasies. All I know is that somewhere I became addicted to the pleasures that women bestow. Of all the things God granted man to be pleasing to him, woman was his greatest creation.
I remember my first crush; I’ll call her Ms. Belle. She had to be twenty-five or so, I was probably around five or six, growing up in the projects of Cartersville, GA. Nine Stokley Street, apt. 5, somehow of all places lived I can’t forget that address. Ms. Belle was a short, dark complexioned, very shapely, soft spoken but wild kind of woman. She happens to be the first woman I had ever seen naked and the first I had ever seen have sex. I use to climb out my window at night, to peek into hers. Man o’ man, she was fine as she can be. That is just what I thought when she would come over to visit my mother. I would get lumps in my throat and sometimes my pants, even at that age. The nature of a man begins when that man discovers his first thought of a woman, no matter how young.
We moved from the projects to a HUD community when I was about seven. How I missed Ms. Belle. For a long time I would dream about making love to her some day. See she started something in me that has not subsided to this day. By the time I had became a teenager, Ms. Belle was a washed up, alcoholic, crack head. However, she made me realize something about myself and I gave it to every woman I could. We were kind of poor back then, so we didn’t wear the best of things and apparently I wasn’t much to look at. No girls seemed to be interested in me, besides they were too young and skinny. Nothing like Ms. Belle with her fat backside, hour glass hips, small waist and those nice perky breasts. Lord knows I couldn’t imagine that they had hair down there, at least not like Ms. Belle.
That thing she made me realize was how much I loved women. For a long time, I thought I loved every woman I came in contact with. My mother taught me respect was the first thing you needed to give women in order to attract women. Never degrade them or take away from their self-esteem; that is as important to them as the air they breathe. Listening to them is a must, as well as being able to talk to them. Touching a woman has to be as gentle as only a woman can. You have to compliment her and or take notice to the simple changes she has made for you. Being a man at all times was paramount; for women want strong, confident, well groomed men. Pay attention to that woman as much as you paid attention to yourself. Those are just some of the things my mother always taught me. She said you can have any one you want if you keep these things in mind. Lastly, she would say, “keep your hands and shoes clean.” Those were my guidelines and believe me they work like a diamond ring at the proposal.
This is where this book begins, at the things my mother taught me. Whether it was by sitting me down to school me or by watching her live every day; she taught. As far as what every other woman I knew taught, well, you will have to read this book to find that out. Of course I started with the first woman I took notice to. What women teach begins with the first woman in everyone’s life; their mother. Those of you who have or ever planned to have children, take heed to what you teach them. Remember you are not only raising little girls who become women but little boys who become men as well. Your decisions will affect every one who will become a part of that child’s life forever. Watching what you teach your daughters will determine what kind of men they bring home. Watching what kind of men you bring home will determine what kind of man your son will be in a home. Face it; mothers are the determining factor in a home setting for what we all decide is good for our future generations. What kind of mother are you? What kind of mother will you be?
I’d like to describe this literary expression as a book of poetry with a story in between. An expedition that began long before I was aware of the voyage life would have me take. Like all great journeys made, when you look back, you can see where you went left when you should have went right. Those of you deciding to make the same sort of travels, please look for a starting point. Look for a place that has been hidden from your mind. If you should find that you suppressed