Sometimes that is just how you need to get it done! And Lawrence and Issa got it done!
STOP READING NOW IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO KNOW THE ENDING OF (AWKWARD BLACK GIRL) INSECURE Season 2, Episode 1!
My girl and fellow blogger Lela Victoria has written an excellent blog about (Awkward Black Girl) Insecure so I will not rehash the show but last night I was sleeping and this blog popped in my head specifically about one aspect of Insecure that I had to write about – Lawrence serving it up to Issa on the couch.
That was one of the sexiest, spontaneous moments I have witnessed on TV lately. It was guttural and primal and erotic and everything that made me wonder, “Where have I went wrong in my life that I am not having hot, spontaneous couch sex?”
I have only had that type of chemistry with one person then I remembered in a moment of mental clarity I deleted his number from my phone. After Lawrence and Issa’s get down, I was trying to remember those digits, but God and my wise ancestors blocked it. Sighhhhhhh…
Anyway, the long and short of the story is that Issa has cheated on her longtime boyfriend Lawrence and they are in that awkward stage of a breakup where you might get back together, you might date other people but it’s nothing serious because you are not quite sure what the next steps will be in the relationship. Is it really over or will you be getting back together? Issa hopes that they will get back together, so she calls Lawrence to come to their apartment and pick up his mail. Because you know that is what we do when we really want to see someone after we broke up. We call them and tell them to come pick up their belt, a half a box of cornflakes and three paper towels. Anything will do as long as we can see them again and maybe rekindle that spark.
After a few delays, Lawrence stops by the apartment to pick up his mail, and at this point, Issa has just given up on his stopping by and is emotionally depleted after a failed party and a job assignment that is not going well. She is not dressed up when Lawrence unexpectedly comes to the door; just in some boy shorts, a t-shirt and her natural hair pulled back. But don’t get it twisted, Issa lounging around the house and most people lounging around the house are two different things. When I lounge around the house, I might have a stain on my shirt and half my braids taken out. (Maybe that is why I am not having spontaneous couch sex. I need to get my life together.) Issa looks remarkable even though she is feeling defeated. Her legs are toned and go on for days, booty popping, cocoa skin flawless and her natural hair is glistening with jojoba and coconut oil.
Lawrence walks in and gets the mail and says he also left some stuff in the bathroom. When he comes out, he makes small talk and then heads for the door and babbbbyyyyyyyyy in one quick move, slams the door, drops his bag, said fuck that mail and he was ready to fuck Issa. Right there on the couch! And it was one of the best sex scenes I have seen on TV in a while! It wasn’t neatly choreographed; there were no candles, Lutha (not Luther) Vandross was not playing in the background. It was just two people that still had amazing chemistry and sexual energy that could not keep their hands off each other.
It reminded me of Biggie Smalls song, Fucking In You Tonight
“So no, caviar, Shark-Bar, uh-huh
Strictly sex that’s sweaty and leftover spaghetti
I know you used to slow CD’s and Dom P’s
But tonight, it’s eight tracks and six-packs while I hit that!”
And Lawrence hit that! And honey I was like REWINDDDD! Let me see that shit again!
And sometimes that is just how it is. I don’t want to hear long conversations about what went wrong, and where we are going from here and what should we call this thing and are we in a relationship or not? Sometimes it is just about that moment, and we will figure the rest out the next day. Or we won’t. And sometimes that is okay. Everything is not going to fit neatly into some box or can be labeled. Sometimes shit really is complicated. Sometimes relationships can’t be defined, and sometimes you just need to have hot, spontaneous couch sex on top of a ‘Miley, What’s Good’ pillow because you can, and you want to, and you’re a grown ass woman.