Love Trips: The Dominican Carrie Bradshaw

I sat in a circle, clutching a piece of paper tinted with my love inspired words. "He took my hand and put it on his penis," I read, eyes still on the page. Laughter erupted. I smiled. They laughed just where I wanted. I continued and, once finished, sat in silence while each member of the Latina Writers Workshop critiqued my new piece.

"Hilarious!" One commented.

"You have a knack for comedy!" Another complimented.

"I want to know what happens next!" The following exclaimed.

And then one said it. The five words I've heard since Love Trips blessed the pages of migente.com and finally sitv.com before landing on lovemionline.com, or what I like to call home.

"You're the Dominican Carrie Bradshaw!"

My face scrunched up as if she'd placed that same penis I wrote about right under my nose. I didn't want that stinking penis and I sure as hell didn't want to be compared to no Carrie Bradshaw! Sure, I loved Sex and the City like every other woman in America. Sure, I related to Carrie more than any other character. I mean, I had two Mr. Big's! Go to Love Trips: The Dominican Carrie Bradshaw to read the rest!

Love Trips: Text Sex

When I think of text sex, I picture a beefed up man typing on a cell with one hand and stroking his pene with the other. This image isn’t very arousing, especially when my imagination takes it a step further and, all of a sudden, I visualize his cell dropping and his face contorting into an ugly growl. He howls, twitches, finally orgasms, and all I want to do is scream “Eeew!” del asco! It’s like a scene out of a horror movie! But instead of chasing me down with a machete he uses his erect penis as a weapon and pokes me to death...in the eye.

Go to Love Trips: Text Sex to read the rest!