Monthly Archives: January 2020

F*CKING UP SHEETS!

There’s a joy that one feels when you leave home and stay at a place that’s not your own. I, like many people, love a good vacation. However, with the rising costs of living, lack of time, lack of funds to go on holidays, and inadequate paid time off, many people don’t get to experience the minimums that a working life has to offer. Whenever I get to be out and do my own thing, I take it all in. I’ve become quite the connoisseur of using Airbnb for mini-trips away or for weekends when I want to be alone with my guy. Between work, writing, reading, and training, it’s refreshing to relax and be the definition of lazy. It’s also refreshing to know that the sheets you fucked up, are not your responsibility to clean.  

Last weekend, my man and I had a weekend all to ourselves. We went to a show on Friday night, followed by dancing. When we got home Saturday morning, we didn’t leave the house until Sunday when we checked out. Saturday morning, he woke me up for breakfast in bed; so, I fed him my pussy twice; then, we went back to sleep. When I finally truly, woke up around noon, I made us breakfast. We stayed inside all day and watched Sabrina on Netflix. When we got hungry again, I made us dinner, then we finished the season, and moved onto watching The Magicians. Cuddled on the couch, I had never felt so at ease. The day was the definition of amazing, and the events of that evening were the strawberry gusher on top. 

We showered together and the hot water cascading on our bodies felt intoxicating. Once in bed, we kissed passionately, then I went down to please him. I used all the tools in my arsenal: from my tongue swirl to my sucking pulse, all in an effort to deliver unto him pleasures that made him squirm and moan. When he told me that he wanted me to ride him, I put on a condom and happily obliged. I used my glutes and hamstring strength to bounce up and down; then, I eased up when he thrust his hips deeper into me. When we had our fill of that position, he laid me on my back, opened my legs wide, and pounded into me. With a few needed lube applications, to keep the party going, I moaned out with every thrust that massaged my spot. In between the cocktails of “fuck!”, “yes!” and “oh my god!” there were many “I love you!” exchanges. I wrapped my legs around his waist and thrust my lower body to meet his. When we had our fill with missionary, before we changed to doggy, he devoured me once more. With his mouth on my clit and finger in my ass, he delivered me an amazing orgasm.  

With my ass up in the air and face buried into the pillow, he proceeded to make love to me; and I devoured every second of it. The beads of his sweat dripped onto my back, and their cool delivered an exhilarating chill. He went to reposition himself and stick it in my ass. Before he entered, I got my womanizer…  

NEVER LEAVE HOME WITHOUT IT! 

For the record, I don’t enjoy anal sex alone. The nerve endings in my ass do not receive pleasure the same way my pussy does. No matter how much lube my partner uses, I can feel the penis rubbing against the skin of my ass, and it delivers to my mind a visual image that shuts down the pleasure highway. So, since I started adding anal sex into my repertoire, I always use my womanizer. The sucking motion of the toy distracts my brain, and it makes the entire experience pleasurable beyond measure. Every time I’m fucked in the ass, with my womanizer on my clit, I have an orgasm. This time would’ve been no different; however… 

Once I powered it up and placed it onto my clit, I told him he could start going slow. I felt my booty hole open up as he slid into me; in collaboration with the sucking motion of the toy, I felt my body reaching an orgasm. As he began to pick up the pace, my clit began to throb like it hadn’t before. He continued to deliver me pleasure-filled thrusts until my body lost control. I first felt the wetness start to drip down my thigh, in between his thrusts; then, just as I had reached my peak; with shaking orgasm and a loud face-in-pillow-stifled roar, my abdominals clenched and my pussy released a squirt of fluid, in amounts I had never released before. There was nothing I could do but ride my orgasmic wave and, since he couldn’t get out of the way fast enough; he had no option but to shower in my juices. Thank god for the towel I laid down prior!  

When I came back down from my high, he slid right back into my ass and proceeded to fuck me until he reached his orgasm. With both of us covered in each other’s fluids (me in his sweat, and him in my squirt), we passed collapsed onto the bed. 

After a few minutes we took a quick shower; then, thanks to some more carefully placed thick and fluffy towels, we were able to fall into a deep sleep. Up until that night, I had only ever squirted in the shower or in my bed. It was not my goal that evening to fuck up the sheets, but I was elated that it wasn’t my responsibility to clean them up.  

JOHNSON, RICHARD, DICK & BOB

I’m up before the alarm goes off, then hand touches me; it’s been like this for a few weeks now – I wake up just as the sun peeks in. From where I’m lying, I see a mess; clothes are everywhere, there’s an empty pizza box, and it smells a little like a morgue. Or at least I think It does; I’ve actually never been in a morgue, but if I had, I imagine it would smell a lot like this.  

All of a sudden, my eye gets all slippery and I can’t see. This smell of what I’ve come to know as babies, begins to choke me and I can’t breathe. I can hear my friends Richard and Jonson running to help me, but when they arrive it’s too late. They disappear and suddenly, once again, I’m crying; then, I shrink. 

I’m ready to take a nap; then all of a sudden, it smells like spring, and my eye begins to burn. When hand rubs me this time, if feels nice. Mmm I like this. I’ll take spring over babies any day. I start to relax then, abruptly, the wetness stops. It’s cold, then this fuzzy grey monster attacks me. Hey- what happened to fuzzy yellow monster? 

Johnson, Richard and I, pack into Hanes-stripe and we head out. Normally the journey is painful and bumpy, but this time, it’s smooth; and we’re bopping along to the music. We could get used to this! 

**RING & CHATTER** 

Hey Bobby! You going to the party tonight?” It smells like cotton candy. 

“Yea, I’ll be there. You?” 

“Of course! It’s the last party before we graduate.” 

“I know! It’s going to be cool What’s your favorite color Lynn?” 

**RING & Chatter** 

“Red. I gotta go. See you later Bobby!” 

“See you later Lynn”  

It suddenly gets crowded. What the hell is happening? This day has been very weird! 

The ride back to the morgue smelling place was just as smooth as the one to the cotton-candy place; only a bit faster. I could hear music playing in the background and when I peeked, I saw that the pizza box was gone and the room smelled less like a morgue.  

**RING** 

“Alright! I’ll be down in 30.” 

Once again, my eye started to burn, and I’m all wet again. There were bubbles everywhere; I can hear Johnson and Richard were being suffocated by them. I wanted to save them; but luckily, water appeared and rinsed them away. Back in the room we could clearly see that it had been thoroughly cleaned and it smelled like vanilla. Nice! Fuzzy grey monster, from the morning, returned to say hi. 

“Danny, can I use your Axe Body Spray?” 

“Sure. It’s on the dresser.” 

We were just hanging out with Fuzzy, when this Calvin Klein-Red guy came and locked us up. What’d he do that for? Jerk! 

Then we started to suffocate again as some smelly mist attacked us. Cough! cough! 

**HONK HONK** 

“Alright Big B! You clean up well!” 

“Shut up Ken!” 

“Gonna hang out with Lynn at the party?” 

“Of course.” 

Outside the music was loud, and there were so many smells: one that reminded me of when I went swimming, another one that often makes us sleepy, and so many artificial fruity aromas. 

“Bobby!” 

“Hey Lynn!” 

“Come with me now.” It’s getting tight again! 

The music has gotten lower and this Calvin guy is seriously cramping our style. 

**CLICK CLICK** 

An unfamiliar hand touches me and my guys. Who the hell are you; with your long hair? 

She has the same cotton-candy smell from earlier. 

We’re all about to protest; but then she gets rid of Calvin. We’re free! 

Her hand is soft, very soft; she touches her lips to me. What is she doing? I did not consent to this. But- it feels good, very good! 

This pink thing comes out from between her lips and I get scared that she’s going to eat me. The pink think swirls around the tip of my head. This feels lovely! Then it swirls all the way down my body. Ooooh!!! She’s playing with Johnson and Richard and they seem to be unbothered. She brings her pink thing back to my top then she opens her mouth. It was a trap! She wanted to get my defenses down to bite me off and kill me in one swift motion. This is the end! I just know it! Good-bye Johnson! Good-by Richard!  

The light fades as she draws me into her mouth; it’s warm, moist, and smells like peppermint. I feel something I can only describe as a pulse. I’m scared, but this feels amazing. There’s a soft humming then I can see the light again. With a blink of my eye, it’s dark and moist again; this time her pink thing tickles me a little bit too, then it starts to swirl around me, again. It feels amazing! But I brace myself, because I know it’s all an evil plot to kill me. JUST DO IT ALREADY!!! 

Outside again, my eye is glossy, so I can’t see what’s going on. Her hand is holding onto my body, going up and down, up and down. This feels way better than when Other-Hand does it; it’s always too rough and way too fast.  

I’m going in and out of focus, I hear Richard and Johnson screaming. Guys!!!! Then it’s silence. Oh no! She’s eaten them first! How much longer are you going to torture me? I try to yell, but all I can do is cry a little. Then I hear them coughing.  

“Guys? You still there?” 

“Yeah! We’re here. What was that? It was wet and it smelled like peppermint.” 

“I don’t know. I think she’s going to eat us. I just want to say. I love you two and I’ll never fo-…” 

I disappear back into her mouth. Things are going much faster this time. I think this is it. This is the end! Between pink thing, mouth, and hand, they all take turns with me and the guys. It begins to feel too good to fight anymore; then a feeling, that I can only describe as an explosion, happens into peppermint & cotton-candy’s mouth. I’m Dead! 

BE SELFISH! SAVE YOURSELF FIRST!

When a plane is going down, it’s more important to put the oxygen mask on yourself first; then onto the person next to you. If I’m spending time trying to get the mask onto you, in addition to losing oxygen, I may lose consciousness and die; then we’re both screwed. As simple as it may seem; a lot of people have a great deal of difficulty applying this very simple logic to their everyday life.  

You can’t give water from an empty cup, but so many people continue to try. Unlike the cup that is obviously empty, there is no visual correlation for your spirit, state of mind, or heart. A broken heart can be fixed; but once a heart it drained, it dries up and can no longer function.  

When we are young, we’re told to be nice and share our toys with the other kids; because, sharing is caring. We’re subjected to forced playdates, the buddy system, and group projects. It’s no wonder why so many people are, not only, co-dependent, but so many of us are givers. We were bred to be this way, and at some point, it has to stop. 

SAVE YOURSELF FIRST! 

I used to be the person that loved to please, support, and be there for others. Unfortunately, many times, it left me emotionally broken and struggling to find my own happiness. In past relationships, I dismissed all my wants and needs to make myself what my partner wanted; totally becoming a person that I no longer recognized. If a friend had a bad day, I would take on their feelings as my own and that energy would eventually weigh me down.  

After I broke up with my ex; after my 100th cry, my 50th cancelled date, and my 20th weekend alone; I had finally had enough. It was then that I told myself; “I refuse to be unhappy and have herpes”. The fact of the matter was, since I couldn’t get rid of herpes, I made the choice to get rid of the guy. 

I began applying that theme to factors beyond my relationship. I applied it to work; if I didn’t like my job, I did what was needed to get a new one. I applied it to my friends and acquaintances; I became more mindful of the energy I allowed to be around me, and I stopped letting negative people affect me. Lastly, I applied it to my family. Naturally, I couldn’t get rid of my family; and trying to change them would be more work than it was worth. I did, however, adjust my reactions to what they did. I realized that I had much more control over my own emotions (in response to their actions) than their initial actions that would cause said emotion. 

It became important to me to do some heavy self-reflecting and healing; and during my journey I found my peace. 

People often say I have great energy, along with confidence, and spirit. Whether it’s a friend’s friend I met at a bar, a media personality, or a friend I hadn’t seen in 10 years; they all say the same thing. When they ask me how I manage, I make it very clear. 

I put myself first; above all else.  

Yes! It sounds selfish as hell, but it’s the remedy that I live by. A few years ago, I read (audio book) The Subtle Art of Not Giving A Fuck; it was what I needed to hear to put my way of doing things into perspective. The book wasn’t really about, not giving a fuck; it was more about only addressing the things you have the ability to change and acknowledging that the grass may not be greener on the other side.  

Comparing where I was in life and/or in my relationship to those of my friends, often left me feeling lonely and depressed. But when they would complain to me about their partner or spouse; I was ecstatic to know I was much happier in my reality that I thought they were in the fantasy of their lives that I created in my mind.  

When I re-evaluated the men that I sought; for a very long time, I realized that I was a magnet for those that needed support. I, unknowingly, operated as a human crutch for many years. I loved being that ride or die, support her man woman. I often turned the other cheek, and I always thought optimistically of my partners. Supporting people and lifting them up to where they wanted and/or needed to be; was what I was good at. However, when I looked back, I realize that; while I did so much for others, I did nothing for myself. And time and time again, I had to start over.  

It took a while for me to learn my lesson; because each time Soul-Sucker came around, they were a little different. The first time- they had long hair, the next time- it was short, the next time- they wore glasses, another time- they showed up with a limp. Their appearance kept changing, but their behaviors and actions would always, eventually, reveal their true identity. 

With dating polyamorously, I had to be extra careful of whom was in my space; but, above all else I had to be sure to maintain my autonomy.  

I make time for my partners (primary and secondary), family, and friends; but the most important time is that I have with myself. For the record- I LOVE MYSELF! And I love being by myself. Time by myself is used to evaluate my position, mission, and goals. Sometimes I work out, watch tv, or listen to music. I may decide to go for a walk alone or try out a new restaurant, or go see a movie; all by myself. I love my alone time; because it allows me the ability to take a necessary inventory of my feelings and check in to make sure all elements that make me who I am are in alignment. I may go hours without looking at my phone or I may look but decide to not respond, because it’s my alone time.  

We’ve been conditioned to seek the constant comfort of others, but we came into this world alone (most of us anyway) and we’re going to die alone. We all have to find happiness in being alone and being selfish, with ourselves, is the first step.  

Maybe this hoe life isn’t for me…

In January, 2019, I finally stopped beating around the bush and went public about, not only, my herpes status and polyamory; I also openly questioned my bisexuality. I spoke about the difficulty I had finding women that wanted to be intimate with me; and my struggle finding casual sex with women. I figured the only way to confirm if I was truly bisexual (enjoyed eating pussy) was to venture into a sex-club.  

What I didn’t expect was, while eating random woman’s pussy at the first sex-club; I also realized that I really-really loved being an exhibitionist; just as much as I enjoyed having, and watching people having sex. I would enter the room, shy on the outside, yet burning up on the inside. However, once I started engaging, all inhibitions left the room. With one random-hand squeezing my ass, another caressing my leg, random mouth licking my freshly pedicured toes, another sucking at my pierced nipple; add to that, the room filled with eyes on me; I was elevated to a level of sexual nirvana that I hadn’t experienced since I was a teenager.  

After that, each party I attended, was for the sheer joy of pure surprise-induced satisfaction.  

I used to dream of; entering a huge loft where every person would enter from a separate door, all wearing masks. There would be no talking, only action. After a few hours of pleasure, each person would walk back to the room they came from and no one would ever know the identity of the other person. Masks and anonymity, mixed with the cocktail of sexual aura was a recipe for great orgasms this fantasy.  

However, in real life; sex-parties, sex-clubs, and (in my case) just sex in general; turned out to be the recipe for repeated trips to the GYN.  

After I lost my virginity, I made the GYN my best friend. Because I was highly sexually active, (and not always the most careful); during my teenage and adolescent years, I got pretty comfortable waiting, and having my vagina examined. Quite a few times, I knew what my ailment was going in, and would leave with a prescription that would have be back in tip-top shape after a week. None the less, getting examined, swabbed, and blood drawn was a very natural thing for me. I was very sexually active, so I tested often in between partners.  

One day, in 2008, after a night of less than eventful sex, (so much so that I had to call someone else over to fuck the memory of the previous guy out of my mind); my vagina felt less than perfect. Naturally, I went to the GYN and she told me it was BV (Bacterial Vaginosis); something I had never heard of and she described as an STD. I was, not only, pissed and uncomfortable; I was extremely confused. By this time, I was WA-CONDOM-FOREVER, so how could I have gotten and STD? All she could do was give me the prescription and send me on my way. I notified both my partners so they could get treated. After the antibiotics to treat the BV, I had to take a round of treatment for the yeast infection that the treatment for BV caused. After a little over two weeks, I was back to normal. It wasn’t until month’s later that I had a new GYN and she informed me that BV was not actually an STD, but an overgrowth of bacteria in the vagina (similar to a yeast infection); and that made more sense. Armed with that knowledge, I continued to use condoms, stopped using scented soaps, and was confident I would live happily ever after…  

I fucking wish.  

Once I got my first BV diagnosis, the son-of-a-bitch kept coming back. Every few months I would get a weird sensation, that would cause me to go to the doctor and every time it would return BV.  

Change of soap = BV 

Stayed too long in sweaty workout clothes = BV 

Toilet water splash back from poop = BV 

Occasional long session of rough sex = BV 

It was a repeat-offending disaster. 

It wasn’t until years later that, there appeared to be sunshine just beyond the horizon.  

In 2019, after my 8-month sex-break, I was confident that my vagina had reset itself. During that time, I learned some new tools to alleviate friction and I kept condoms on stand-by, just in case. So, after my 8-month sex drought, I was eager to walk into the sex-club. Armed with lube, condoms, and vibrator in my bag; I dived in. And, a few days later, I was in the doctor’s office, again.  

All treated, a month later, I met my first polyamorous partner and we started having amazing sex. He loved playing with my ass and probably had a digit slip every once in a while, once again. Every time he did – I had to go back to the doctor’s office.  

Treated again, a few months later, I went to my first all-black swingers party, followed by a day of sex, with an already sore pussy. And once again, I went to the doctor. 

I was really beginning to think, maybe this hoe-life wasn’t for me…  

It made no sense to me that, after every time I had a night of amazing (sometimes rough) sex, I would have to report to the doctor, days later. I once attended a party where the girl was literally filled with a dick the entire night. At parties, I would see all the other women taking dick after dick and I just knew they would be fine in the morning. It wasn’t fair! Not to mention $60 every visit, plus the price for the medication started to add up.  

To my surprise however, it turned out that, last time all my results came back negative. It appeared that, my vagina was not used to so much pounding. It was a crazy night after all. 

After a few more run-ins, my GYN, after seeing me for, what seemed, the 2000th time, decided to run a different test. She decided to check the bacteria in my vagina, as by BV was extremely recurrent.  

My results came back positive for high levels of ureplasma.  

Now, ureplasma naturally occurs in the body (hence why it’s considered a bacterial infection, and NOT An STI); however, the bacteria can also be passed to you via sexual contact. A-fucking-HA! That finally explained why once I got BV, it kept happening. It was all due to the rise in ureplasma in my vagina.  

She ordered me a prescription, along with advising me to take daily probiotics; to further promote the growth of healthy bacteria.  

After years of repeat occurrences, I finally had an answer; and due to her detective work, I finally had a cure.  

With that, in the closing of 2019, I was finally back to having the sex and the experiences I always wanted. I was not ready to hang up my sex-party robe just yet; and I was elated that I didn’t have to.