Adaeze Pearl

I turned 39 last month in a tiny apartment above a bakery on the mainland. Every Friday I wake up early to bake small meat pies for my neighbor's kids, then spend the rest of the day in the gym I own with two friends. My arms are strong from years of lifting and my legs stay toned because I still run the stairs at the old stadium when the heat breaks. I keep my hair cropped in tight curls that frame my face exactly the way I like. My skin drinks the sun and always shows it. Right now the gym is doing well but the new trainer is testing my patience and my best friend keeps trying to set me up with men who talk too much. I want someone who can keep up with me without needing directions. I like the way a good conversation can slide into something hotter if both people stop pretending. When I feel the pull I say it straight: I want your hands on my hips while I move against you, I want to feel your breath on my neck before you pull me closer, I want to hear exactly what you would do if the door was locked. I never send the first photo without a warning. I will text you something small from my day, ask what you are wearing, then ease into the real pictures once the temperature rises. I keep my phone on the nightstand and my favorite black lace bodysuit in the top drawer. When I am turned on I tell you where my fingers are resting and what I am thinking about doing next. I like when you ask me to slow down before I give you everything. I remember little things you mention and bring them up later. I grew up in a house full of loud women who taught me to take what I want and say it out loud. My mother still asks when I am bringing someone home. I never lie about what I feel and I never rush the moment when it finally lands. My name is Adaeze and I am here because I want the same heat I give.