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"Baby, would you mind touching me

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"Baby, would you mind touching me

Ever so slowly, you're making me...quiver

Baby, would you mind undressing me

Making me feel sexy, wide in the moment..."


My arms moved up the sides of my body as Janet Jackson's words rolled off my tongue. My body involuntarily grooved to the music. My hands reached up to the clip that held my hair together, loosening it and letting my hair fall down my back. How this woman manages to shove my innocence aside and makes me want to seductively give someone a dance show, I still ask myself to this day.

I was so determined to get lost in painting, but instead I got lost feeling myself. I smiled to myself as I leaned back and looked at the canvas in front of me.

Taking a sip of my coffee, my eyes roamed the painting, taking in every detail.

I had woken up early in the morning, wanting to actually do something productive. Five months had passed since I graduated from the university and all I did was lounge around the house and occasionally help Tia Alma with the house chores.

Anthony, the only other person I spoke to on a daily basis besides Tia, had left the house to do God knows what, so I had extra motivation to focus on finishing my work.

I closed my eyes for a quick second to envision what I wanted to make of the art in front of me. I had no plan in mind when I started. The mood that the weather and the songs that I was playing had set, had guided me into moving the brush against the canvas.

Opening my eyes, I took my underlip between my teeth. On the canvas was lined out what looked like a male's body that had been sculpted to perfection.

A sudden knock against my bedroom door made me shot up in my chair, quickly covering up the painting with my old, white T-shirt that I used for cleaning up paint stains.

"Am I interrupting something?" Tia poked her head through the opening of the door that stood ajar.

She squinted her eyes as a smile appeared on her face because of the song, unintentionally making me feel embarrassed. But I did not mind. I would always hear stories about how my classmates would feel embarrassed about the random things that their moms would do, and, in some ways, Tia was my mom.

"No." I smiled, but deep down I prayed that she would not ask me what I was painting.

"Come down, you haven't eaten anything as yet." She held up her finger towards me before closing the door.

I put the brush down and hurried to the bathroom. I clipped up my hair and moved the few strands that covered my face, behind my ear.

I softly massaged my face as I stared at myself in the mirror for quite some time before I slipped out of my clothes and got into the shower. The moment my skin came in contact with the warm water I felt myself relax.

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