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Authors: Tiana Laveen

BOOK: Saved and SAINTified
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He knew she’d not been necessarily promiscuous, but she’d had her share, and the trauma was substantial, all the same. He’d never made love without a condom before, and her being his soul mate made the sensations all the more intense. He could read her thoughts, feel her vibration. She knew who he was to her before she la
y with him. Something in her knew—that was why she put up such a fight. She knew her life would never be the same.

Everything she once believed about love, courtship and men was about to be erased and replaced with something foreign
—something foreign yet oh, so familiar. Change is always difficult, especially if one is entering the unknown. She trusted him completely, yet she still struggled internally for answers. None of it made sense. She’d just met him, yet she felt as if she’d known him for an eternity. She was making love to him, and he to her, taking her to a world of pleasure she’d never known before.

The intensity of the whole encounter, the combining of souls
, was miraculous. He knew her every thought. He’d seen her in so many lifetimes, that once he was inside of her, any doubt he had, which was little to none, was surely erased. Inside of her was agony and he wanted to replace it with pleasure and restoration. He could feel her pain clinging onto every nerve of his body, sharp and serrated. All the lies she was told, all the disappointments, all the relationships that never went anywhere and the cheating and lying … that just seemed to never stop.

Despite her beauty, intelligence and celebrity status, she was still attracting the garbagemen of commitment and fidelity, and they’d left evidence inside of her. Xenia never verbally told him the extent of the emotional and
, at times, verbal abuse she’d sustained from some of her ex-boyfriends, and those first few thrusts proved she no longer had to. He had felt sick. Not for himself, but on her behalf. As good as her body felt, he was briefly swallowed into a dark abyss of melancholy once his suspicions were confirmed.

He was prepared to clean it all up for her, and he did. The garbagemen had left
, and the ‘one-man cleaning crew’ had arrived. … With each thrust, each stroke, each thoughtful gyration, he concentrated with all of his might on cleansing her, and taking the filth away. He bathed her tormented soul on her behalf and flushed his system after he’d removed the entire gunk from her spirit by taking a dip in the hotel pool while she slumbered. She had no idea she was ill and her nurse was on call.

Submerging himself in the cold, chlorine
-filled water, he allowed the baptismal to take place as he carried all of those wretched curses away … While she slept in the hotel room, he swam and swam, praying and purging. He kept this experience to himself, and it would remain that way. But her comments a few days later about feeling ‘light on her feet’ and ‘brand new’ did not go unnoticed…

“For the few of you that are here by invite only, and are not currently in a relationship
—if you do this, you will see men begin to gravitate toward you, once your temple is clean and you are interested in your own development and improvement. This is why confident women appear more beautiful to so many. You can have someone who is physically stunning, but if she doesn’t believe it, she can come across as looking average, or she just doesn’t have that magic that draws men to her and keeps them there.”

M
any of the women nod in agreement. “I know everyone in here can attest to this. The girl in high school or college who just looked so-so, but it seemed all the men wanted her. Or she had handsome, nice boyfriends that all her female peers wanted—I promise you, it’s because she loved herself. Women who love themselves aren’t afraid to be alone. Desperation, for a mate,
any
mate, is unattractive but it
does
attract the men who want to turn you into trashcans. You’re giving off energy, a scent, and he is coming for you. He smells your insecurity and self-hatred and he looks at you … and he smiles … and he gets hard knowing that you don’t give a shit about yourself; so, that means he can fuck you ten ways to Sunday and leave your spirit all … fucked … up!”

He
noticed a couple women gasp and shoot each other shocked looks.

“I said it, and I mean
t it. This isn’t social hour, here. I’m trying to save you. I could be at home, relaxing with my Queen, but instead, I got a call tonight about some of you wanting to continue to play and roll around in your own mud. We don’t throw pearls at swine! You want a quality man? You better be a quality woman, goddamn it! You’ve fucked around with these losers, and got all fucked up in the head. Now, your Rainbeau pays because someone treated you like a fucking land dump—like you weren’t shit. He spit on your spirit and laughed.”

Loud whispers filled the room.
“After he used you up, he was on to his next victim. For you single ladies, don’t be the next victim. Love yourself enough to respect your Queendom, your pussy and your future King. You disrespect your future King unknowingly, when that filth penetrates you, and you’re a mess. You are then contaminating him if you haven’t cleansed your body and spirit. So he becomes the janitor. He has to clean up all your hang-ups, emotional baggage, and take the brunt of some shit that someone else did to you, that he had nothing to do with. You don’t trust him, because he isn’t black. He then proves to you that he loves you. If he doesn’t try to fuck you on the first date, you feel rejected. If he does try to fuck you on the first date, you accuse him of seeing you as a piece of meat. He can’t win.”

Saint stopped in his tracks, holding their gaze.

“I’m not making excuses for all the men who want to fuck on a first date, but I will say this: When your King wants to make love to you, and it is only a first or second date, it’s not just because he wants to cum. It’s because he feels the electricity between you two, and he is eager to connect—to plug into you, literally, so please don’t judge us too harshly. Not every man who wants to make love to you quickly after just meeting you is a dog. You have to use discretion. Some of you made a man wait for months, others for years, and it still didn’t change the damn outcome!”

The crowd in front of him was receptive. How could it not? He knew the tale he told was owned by these women’s hearts.

“Timing is not the main issue; it’s quality. Is it lust? Hell, yes, but sometimes it goes even deeper than that.”

He held his breath as he thought about his overwhelming desire while on the merry-go-round with
Xenia. It took all of his strength to not attempt to make love to her, right then and there. He craved her so badly; he’d never felt so lovesick and out of control in all of his life.

“You give him energy and restore him
, and he will be there in the morning … and he will call you the next day, and the day after that, and the next week until before you know it, months have passed, and he has made it clear, that he wants to make you his wife, his Queen. Some of you are reading all this bullshit about waiting three or six months and all of that, and though the basis of the books is admirable, it won’t protect you, ladies, from cum dumpers! That’s all fairytale bullshit! A cum dumper will wait a year sometimes! He’ll be fucking other women while the whole time, you think he is faithful, waiting on your ass. He will be only pretending to hold out for you when, in fact, he is spilling seed in multiple other women. So all this ‘make that mothafucka wait three or six months’ is bullshit!”

The enthusiasm that surged in the room fueled him further—spurred him to go on, to educate
.

“I’m not saying jump in the bed with him right away
. I’m saying, don’t fool yourself into thinking there are some magic words or strategy on how to get a man to commit. There is nothing you can do to change a man who doesn’t want to be faithful and wait. You can’t keep someone who doesn’t want to be kept, period! He does it because he wants to, not because
you said so
. There is no man out here who is going to wait for you, just because you have this policy! He will wait for you because he
loves
you. If he is not that type of man, he will just go through the motions, bide his time. He can’t be faithful and he has to release that shit, get it out of himself, and it feels so much better if he can shoot it off into a woman versus his sheets. There is power even in the release, not just the semen itself.”

While S
aint was on a roll, he was sidetracked by a waving hand in the middle of the crowd of women.

“Yes, can I help you?” he asked as he stared at the dark-complexioned, slender beauty with natural, curly hair.

“Dr.Aknaten, this is off topic but something you just said made me think of it. Oh, my name is Rita by the way!” She smiled.

“Hello
, Rita. What is it?”

“Can I ask you a sex question?” This caused several women in the group to burst out laughing.

Saint cocked his head to the side and shoved his hand in his pocket.

“I would normally say, ‘let’s until wait after I’m finished’
, but this is informal, so go right ahead.”

“Why do guys fall asleep right after sex? You talked about the power of the release, and I believe it
—does it make you all tired? Norman, my fiancé, always falls right to sleep and it gets on my nerves.” This caused more women to burst out laughing.

S
aint smiled. “So you’re just gonna put all ya man’s business out there, huh? You let everybody up in here know that Norm can’t hang  ...  he’s on blast.”

That last statement got the laughter cracking
. Rita grinned and shrugged.

“Now, you’ve already put him out there, embarrassed the man
—so we can’t reverse the scene. If I had of known
that
was the question, I would’ve asked that you talk to me about it in private but everyone has heard it now, and some of you may be having a similar problem with your mate. So, I will go ahead and address it and the answer is easy. He can’t help it.”

Sighs, snickers and moans.

“No, I’m serious. I’m not making excuses, but this is what is happening inside of a man to cause this. Let me explain. Okay, let’s look at this closely. Sexual studies have demonstrated that during ejaculation, men release a combination of brain compounds, including norepinephrine, serotonin, oxytocin, vasopressin and nitric oxide, okay? I don’t expect you to know what all of these are, but once we are finished here tonight, look them up so that you can understand what each of these bodily chemicals do. It will make more sense to you. For the sake of time, I’ll get to the one that has the most control over the sleeping aspect. We also release a hormone called prolactin. Prolactin is associated with the feeling of sexual gratification, and it also arbitrates what we call “recovery time”. The recovery time is common for many men who need to rest between erections and cumming. Not all men do, but most need breaks between each ejaculation. Now, for the men that don’t, those men have a lower amount of prolactin, thus, have faster recovery times.”

Like myself…

“So, does that answer your question, Rita?”

“Yes, I guess next time I won’t be so hard on him then.” She smiled.

“He needs to be hard on himself, so y’all can go again!” someone joked, causing an uproar of laughter.

S
aint couldn’t help a chuckle as he leaned back against the buffet, arms crossed.

“So look
, ladies.” He glanced down at his watch. “No one has time to play around here. Either you’re in, or you’re out. Cleanse yourselves, get your mind right. I know that most of you in here love your boyfriends, fiancés and husbands. You can’t keep doing what you’re doing, though, just because it’s comfortable. We only grow from discomfort and change.”

He stressed the last sentence, and was happy to see the accepting faces in front of him
.

“I feel better now
. I’m going to do the right thing,” someone from the crowd said.

S
aint nodded. “Good. It’s time. It’s been time. Accept the change, ladies. If everything stays the same, you’ll never develop and mature—that includes your relationships. Growth is a part of life. Nothing is exactly how it was, even thirty seconds ago. You owe it to yourselves, your relationships, Naomi and Valerie, to try to do the best you can. No more excuses. This isn’t your first or second date. You’ve known these men in your lives far too long for that. You’re stagnated … still giving a fuck what someone else will say or think. Those people aren’t in love with you—they aren’t in your bed. They aren’t trying to marry you, be the father of your children, be there for you, be your best friend. … Fuck another opinion. This is
your
life, so live it. Cleanse and mend. Time is running out.”

S
aint wrapped up the discussion, answered a few questions then waved good-bye. He heard the women talk amongst themselves as he exited the dining room. Their energy was new. He knew they felt rejuvenated and he believed many were going to move in a more positive direction. He found Valerie and Naomi sitting in the parlor across the vast hall, a piano beside them and a chandelier shining its soft glow down upon their heads, making their natural crowns of glory sparkle.

“Okay, the massacre is over.” S
aint laughed as he saw their smiling faces. Valerie lifted a cup of coffee to her lips. “Interesting group of women. I think I got through to some of them.”

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