Category Archives: SEX STORIES

We all do it- so, why not talk about it?

COMPLEX ASS INDIVIDUAL

2019 was a fantastic year for my new-found and lived identity. From three romantic partners and amazing sexual encounters, I explored more of my sexuality, mentality, and emotions.

In this everchanging society of sexualities and titles, the world can become a very confusing place. It took me years to finally accept my desire for women, but I still struggle with my attraction level for the women I find myself attracted to. I still desire intimate connections with women, but not in the same way I do with men. As long as he looks good and has a nice penis, I can be sexual with men. However, when it comes to women, physical attraction is just the tip of the iceberg.

A few years ago, I had my first intimate encounter with a woman during a threesome with her male partner. Because of them, I was instantly spoiled.  After them, I tried and failed miserably to re-encounter a couple of their magnitude, attractiveness, and desire to please but was disappointed.

A few times, many of my male partners tried to encourage me to join them in a threesome with a female companion of their choosing, and quite a few times, I’ve had to shut it down. It seems that no matter how many times I say it, many men seem to think that my bisexuality is for their pleasure. It is not. I have no desire to be intimate with a bi-curious woman. I could be with a woman who is not bi-romantic, but I prefer a woman that enjoys pussy as much as I do. In addition to that, I want a woman that I can vibe with outside of the bedroom. Because sex is always better when there is a genuine connection.

A woman that I can talk to and build a bond with is what I desire, not just a chick I can fuck.

***

For much of my adult life, dating was a complicated dance routine. The act of dating was fine, but once I found myself in a relationship, I struggled for my identity. Make no mistake, I love(d) being with my partner(s), and I revel in the private moments we share. However, the issue always came when I had to juggle we time for me time.

I love being by myself. I love going for long walks while listening to a podcast. I love laying in bed, legs crossed, tossing and turning under my covers without a care in my dreams. I love sitting at home watching TV or in front of my laptop writing without any distractions. I love making last-minute decisions to go out and grab a drink or dinner. I love moving at my own speed, not taking into account anyone else’s schedule, and doing what I want when I want.

For years, I didn’t have the language for what I was and how I felt. Then I happened across an article that described me to a tee, and it concluded that my traits are of someone who’s solo-poly. I’ve made the statement in previous posts. But my happiness, peace of mind, and satisfaction will always be my highest priority. I will consider the feelings of my partner(s), but if they affect me in a less than desirable way, I make the best decision for myself to dismiss them. Growing up monogamous and living my solo-poly truth is a constant juggling act to stay true to myself, but I think I make it work.

***

I have always been temperamental when it comes to sex. Don’t get me wrong; I love sex. I just don’t love sex all the time. Over the past year, my desire for sex has been a dysfunctional rollercoaster, in constant need of repair. With the pandemic, my career, stress about my book, my current living situation, how that impacts everything, and a future that is extremely unclear and forever changing, my sex drive has been in and out of focus.

I heard about the term asexual, and for a while and I thought that couldn’t be me because I like sex. Once again, after another article clarified that asexuality could come and go based on what was going on in someone’s life, I realized that I had always experienced bouts of asexuality; I just called it a reset. But asexuality is not a choice. It’s something that you feel (or don’t feel) that you don’t necessarily have control over how or when it happens or impacts your life.

I’m a sexual being; I simply don’t always feel like being sexual. I can and have gone months without sex and didn’t miss it. Keep in mind, being a quasi-asexual and bisexual woman with multiple partners can be a lot to juggle from time to time. There have been times I’ve needed to amp myself up, be it at parties or in my relationships. And there’ve been times where I’ve wanted nothing more than to be sprawled open and penetrated repeatedly. I’m all over the place. I know! LOL!

***

I’ve always declared that I was a complex-ass-individual. Hence why living and being polyamorous fits me. One minute I’m hot, the next I’m cold. Being and living poly allows both my partners and me to get the best parts of each other and be fulfilled without sacrificing the relationship. Because of that, my partners have the free-ethical ability to fill their buckets of desire whenever I am not in the mood or head-space to do it, and vice versa. One may love steak, but everyone once in a while, you want chicken.

FEEL THE VIBRATIONS

There was a period when it was challenging for me to sleep. I would lay in bed, tossing and turning for hours, then a few hours before the sun was to come up, would I finally go to sleep. This was my hell for many years until I found my battery-operated melatonin. VIBRATORS.

There’s nothing I love more than moisturizing my skin after a nice hot shower, getting under my covers, and riding an orgasm to Slumber Land. Who needs sheep when you have an outlet? Or, in the case, with many of my toys, a USB port? I love masturbating. It’s liberating and a much-needed release after a long week, day, or morning.

Over the summer, I finally purchased the vibrating necklace I had been eyeing for over a year. I was concerned that it wouldn’t do the trick, as I was so used to my Womanizer. But, I bit the bullet and left The Pleasure Chest with my Crave brand Vesper vibrating necklace. Feeling excited about my purchase, I decided to take it for a spin. The only issue was, it would be another few hours before I got home. Then I thought to myself, it’s a Vibrating Necklace that’s meant to be used on the fly. So, that’s precisely what I did.

I went into the bathroom of the restaurant I planned to dine at, I washed my hands and the vibrator, and I went into the stall to see if it was worth the money. It took me a minute, but once I found the perfect spot and the vibrator warmed up (literally), it wasn’t long before I was clutching at my breasts and had my orgasm. Money well spent!

The next day, I wore my necklace, and I got so many compliments. Seeing the look on people’s faces when I told them what it really was, was the icing on the cake. For those ‘in the know,” we shared a sexual bond on a higher level. But, to the outside world, it was a silver necklace.

I decided to wear my necklace to a sex party, and the response couldn’t have been better. As my lips wrapped around my partner’s length, I turned on my vibrator and let the metal rest on his balls. My head always made men squirm, pair that with the stimulation on his balls; it was an orgasm on another level. My necklace had become my secret weapon. But, I learned very early on that for some partners, it was too great a sensation. 

***

I have a partner that I’ve been fucking for over 15 years. He was in my life pre-herpes, and I continue to link up with him from time to time. He’s conveniently close and has a fantastic dick. The only problem is he often comes a little too quick for me. When I had a gang of dudes in and out of the box during my early years, I never noticed how bad it was. But as my options decreased, I realized the dilemma I was in. 

One early fall afternoon, he caught me walking by, and our conversation led to me going back to his place. It just so happened I originally had plans to see another partner when I left my house, but within a block, he had canceled. And since I was feeling frisky, I decided to take my old faithful up on his offer. 

With my mouth going in and my vibrator on his balls, it only took a few moments before he was at his peak. Not wanting to waste the moment, I immediately threw a condom on him so I could, in the very least, get some dick action. I whipped out my wand to aid in getting me there, but my battery died, then was done. It was then that I made the commitment to always keep my toys charged. 

The last time I saw him, it was in the middle of the night. A casual phone call led to, “come over,” so I went, with all my toys fully charged. 

When I got there, we chatted, watched a few movies, then we started kissing. For some reason, I was in the mood for anal. But as he’s not the ‘warm a girl up’ type, when he tried to stick it in my ass after I sucked his dick, my booty-hole clenched up tighter than Arthur’s fist meme. NOPE! Not today, Satan! So, he swapped out the condom then we fucked missionary. 

I always preferred him doggy-style. His dick was just the right amount of pained-pleasure I’d grown to love. But, he loved missionary. Knowing that it would be over before it started, I pulled out my wand and placed it on my clit. Only, it got him more aroused than me. By the time he finished telling me to take it off because it would make him come fast, he had already arrived. I was close, so I pulled him near to suck his dick as I reached my orgasm. When It finally happened, my night was complete. 

***

For Thanksgiving, my guy and I enjoyed a sex-fest weekend. And happily, for us, my wand was the star. During our 3rd or 4th round of sex, we were fucking missionary, and wanting extra sensation, I used my wand. As he was pounding into me, I could feel my lower muscles clenching up, my breathing quickened, and then I erupted. I squirted so hard that I pushed him out to ride the wave of my orgasm. When I was done, I dropped my wand, and he re-entered me until he was done. 

To think, there was a time in my life when the only thing I bought into the bedroom was lube and condoms. It’s such a far picture when I look at the growth of my sexuality and how comfortable I am with everything I do. When I finally move, I hope to have a chest full of sex toys to continue my sexual journey. Until then, I’ll continue to feel the vibrations.

2020. WHAT A F*CKING YEAR!

2020 promised to be a year of wonder, money, and new possibilities. Then, sadly corona came and shut all that shit down. But before all the mayhem began, there were a few good times and a few fun posts that I wrote. 

In, Maybe This Hoe Life Isn’t For Me, I questioned if being so sexually free was a good or bad thing. No, I didn’t second-guess my actions because society made me; it was my own fucking body. My vagina, despite all I was doing to keep her well, just kept being a little bitch. It didn’t matter if I was having crazy nasty rough sex or faking a vow of celibacy; my pussy had a mind of her own. Sometimes I wish I could trade her in for a new one, but since the one I have gets rave reviews for smell, taste, and feel (and it’s not physically possible), I’ll continue to work with the one I have. 

            I wrote about my first private squirt explosion in Fucking Up Sheets, and again where I squirted while giving my man head at the last sex party before the world got sick in Clean Up on Floor 34. I dabbled with my first fiction story with Johnson, Richard, Dick, and Bob. And I played with my pandemic fantasies in Social Distancing Fail, Wait a Minute Mr. Postman, and Check. Please.

            2020 was difficult enough, then Amerikkka lost its damn mind. Fueled by the protests against the injustices of black men and women, I took time to stop talking about sex and address what I could not escape. From Dear America, Something Has To Change to Slavery Did A Number on Usand Black Feminist, there was so much anger inside that I had no choice but to let it out in the only way I knew how. I wrote from a place of exhaustion and passion. I hope that one day this country can stop seeing our differences and see one another as merely human beings. Before we are black, white, Spanish, Asian, gay, straight, or trans, we are HUMAN. And hopefully one day, the world and everyone living will treat each other as such. 

            In a few posts, I decided to peel back some layers and welcome you to see the thoughts that plague my mind and heart. In My Bisexuality, I expressed my deep desire to date and be intimate with a female. All of my encounters with women had only been in threesomes or at sex-parties. I longed to know the touch and caress of a woman without the presence of a penis. I long to experience the butterflies, share a kiss, and hold a hand. I don’t know when I’ll get the chance, for 2020 threw a monkey wrench in any possibility of me successfully dating. Hopefully, 2021 will be more kind. 

            With the pandemic shutting down any new dating adventures, I sat pretty with what I had going on. I relied heavily on my prior partners and masturbation. So much so that I injured the arch of my foot in, Damn Sex Injuries, but I enjoyed my first threesome within my poly-partners in Two Men Walk Into A Bar.

            By the end of the summer, lockdown had driven many of us in the swinger community insane. Damn Covid! We wanted to fuck! So, that’s exactly what we did. When I first decided to enter the swinger space it was essential for me to be 100% sober when engaging. I needed to know that every dick I sucked or pussy I ate was because I wanted to. I wrote all about my position in I Make my Bad Decisions Sober. Being locked down for months caused me to throw caution to the wind at the first real pandemic sex party. I gave a foot-job, followed by some head. I even took a dick so big that it made me wonder if my vagina had gotten smaller in Did My Cat ShrinkWhen parties finally got swinging I was able to re-embrace my true exhibitionist nature. I love being watched while I’m fucking, so I wrote all about that in I Always Feel Like Somebody’s Watching Me.  And at the last party, my body was so fucked and contorted that in the end, I wrote, Sex! It’s A Fucking Workout.  

            Towards the end of the year, sadly I became distracted. When my father passed in October, I wrote Thank you. I love you. I will miss you. It was an honest letter, written from the heart, about my father and my estranged relationship. 

Later in October, I put all of my attention towards getting my book out, From Behind The Glitter Curtain: An Erotic Memoir. With almost two years invested, I originally planned to release it over the summer. But, when the pandemic caused everything to shut down, the coffee shops and bookstores that offered me writing peace were no longer an option. Getting back into my writing groove took longer than I expected, but once I got my mojo back, it was full steam ahead. 

            The day before Thanksgiving, From Behind The Glitter Curtain: An Erotic Memoir went live on Amazon. A few days later, it was available on Barnes & Noble, and last week it was finally available on Apple Books. I hope to be rolling out some special items with a purchase of the Hardcover book once the spring season arrives. 

With my book finally done, I’m happy to return to writing my blog. 

Many great things are still to come. In the new year, I hope to finally move, start my podcast, and continue to grow my book’s following. I hope you continue to follow me along my journey in the new year. Happy New Year! And may 2021 be better than 2020.

SEX! IT’S A FUCKING WORKOUT

Sex is serious work. A few weeks ago, I went to a sex-party with my guy, and boy did we put on a show. Despite my content, I’m not always sexual, but at parties, for some reason, my levels increase, and I low-key become a porn star. My nails and toes are always done, and I carefully plan my outfit. I chat it up with the people I know, and I play into the innocent school-girl vibe for strangers. I play it humble until the magic hour starts; then, I become a fucking beast.

My guy and I walked around for a bit, trying to find a room with some action before picking our beginning spot. We found a place where a couple was on one bed, and we decided to occupy the other. He started by eating my pussy, until I came. Then I sat up and began sucking his dick. As I licked, sucked, and slurped, I could hear an audience growing behind me. If you’ve been reading my blog, you know I enjoy an audience. So, as I’m going in, trying to keep it sexy, sloppy, gaggy, and drippy, a bitch starts to get tired. My guy has a habit of being a bit extra when people are watching. In addition to that, he’s a ‘savor the moment’ kind of guy. That is fine when we’re alone. But at a sex party or when it’s supposed to be a quickie, you need to fuck me hard and fast, so we can keep it moving.

Getting tired of jerking my neck back and forth and my saliva constantly dripping down my thigh, I look up at him and let him know I’m ready to fuck. He decides that he wants me to ride him, so —Giddy up Cowgirl! When I turn around to a better position on the bed, I realize the audience has grown, and right in front of my face is a beautiful brown skin woman. She says something (I don’t remember), but once I’m in position, I mount my man, like a sumo-squat, and begin to bounce up and down. On many occasions, I’ve been told that I ride dick well, and I give all the credit to low squats. I continue to bounce up and down, alternating my hands between his neck and his waist. I was riding like a champ, but, eventually, my 220+lbs body can’t do it all night. So, I dropped one leg down and continued. At that moment, the same chocolate-skin woman gave me a compliment and a $10 tip. I wasn’t expecting it, of course, but I’m not turning down money. Then I thought about it. I’ve given plenty of free shows, not to mention the free pussy and head at these parties. Boy! It’s a lot of fucking work.

After I rode my guy, we switched positions to doggy-style. While there, a guy I clocked earlier at the party positioned himself in front of me, essentially asking if I would suck his dick. It was a beautiful dick, so of course, I did. Because he was thick, I was face down and ass up; I had to maneuver my body just right to get a proper motion to perform all of my tricks. After a few minutes, he asked me if I would let him fuck. I was still very much on my period, and I only usually engage with my main partners during that time. However, I had already started up his engine; I didn’t want to send him down a different path, so I let him know I was on my period; he said, “OK.” Almost immediately after my guy came, the other guy got up and positioned himself behind me. He put on a condom, slid in, and went to town. Once again, trying to keep it cute while getting jack-hammered from the back, one after the other, was not easy. But, being the champ that I am, my body adjusted and enjoyed the ride. After he came, I needed a break and a shower.

I showered with my guy then we walked around to give our bodies time to reset. I enjoyed being a voyeur as I watched other couples go at it and made light conversation. There was an interracial couple that I clocked and couldn’t take my eyes off of. Her skin was smooth and dark chocolate while he was dulce de leche, and I wanted them both. But, as it seemed they were only there to enjoy the atmosphere, I kept my fantasies to myself. 

After my guy and I refreshed, and my pussy no longer felt like it had been put through a meat grinder, we went back to action. We started on a couch but eventually moved to a bed with a few other couples already in action. From one position to the next, we flipped and fucked while caressing against other bodies. I even think I sucked a titty that I think delivered me a dose of breast milk, but I’m not sure. Anyway, we fucked our way all around the bed, then voila the guy from upstairs, positioned himself back in front of me. I knew because his dick and balls smelled like baby powder. Once again, I had to reposition my body to properly suck while getting fucked. Like a champ, I handled my business, then switched partners, and braced for more impact. After that second round, I was DONE!  I tapped out for the rest of the party.

The next day, the pain of the party began to settle in. Not the pain of my pulverized vagina, the pain of my fucking back. Like I said, anything I do, I try to do it 100%. So that means my desire to please is always A1. I’ll contort myself in the most awkward positions to look and perform like the porn star I think I am. Which means face-up, chest down, and ass up. Or, on my back, head twisted sucking dick, while my legs are spread or pushed behind my head. Sex, especially at a party, is a fucking workout.

I ALWAYS FEEL LIKE SOMEBODY’S WATCHING ME

When I was a little girl, my street was closed off for a block party. I remember being in the middle of the road, with my colorful dress swaying as I danced to the music. I remember posing for pictures, raising my hand in school, auditioning for various social groups, and enjoying being the center of attention. You see, at a very young age, I was a performer, and as I got older, I perfected my craft. 

I live on the fourth floor, and on more than one occasion, over the 20 years I have lived at this address, I have left my curtains wide open. Over the years, I’m sure my neighbors have seen me sing and dance in my room, undress, have fantastic sex and masturbate at all hours of the day. There were many times when my mom would enter my room when I was getting dressed and close my curtains. She’d make a remark about my body being all over the internet that I’d brush off, and when she’d leave, I’d wonder if anyone was watching. I’d always been an exhibitionist at heart. So, it was only natural that, once I entered the sex-positive space of a sex club, I let my true freak-flag fly.

I’m 25% voyeur and 75% exhibitionist. I enjoy watching people have sex, but I really love being watched. When I used to masturbate, I used to imagine a crowd of bodies around touching me all over, helping me reach my orgasm. When I attended my first sex party, I was finally living out a long-awaited fantasy. The random hands caressing my ass, rubbing my legs, and pinching my nipples heightened my orgasm. After every party, I grew more emboldened.

As my primary partner and I attended more parties together, we often took center stage (not a real stage, just a bed). He would eat my pussy, I would suck his dick, then we’d fuck. We’d occasionally play with other people, then come back together to end our night. Having to tell a man you have herpes with another man’s dick in your mouth is no easy task. So, I got into the habit of inviting men that I already knew and were aware of my diagnosis. It would ensure that the night would be fun, my partners knew my status, and I would be thoroughly fucked by the time the party was over.

At the last few parties we attended, I started taking time to please myself when my pussy needed a break from actual fucking. So, while he was either cleaning up or playing with another woman, I took the liberty to pull out my Womanizer. I would lay back, relax, and let the fantastic sucking motion bring me to a wet orgasm. Every party where I used my Womanizer, a moist spot was left behind as evidence —Sorry. Not Sorry—

The last party I attended was a Luau themed party at Caligula. In the corner, I was getting fucked when one of my other partners entered the room, positioned himself in front of me, and pulled his dick out for me to suck. I was in heaven. —I’ll never know where or how this came to be my bliss, but I have no desire to turn back.— Nonetheless, they switched positions, and once again, I was getting pleased from both ends. Then my partner positioned me on his face and ate my pussy as I sucked my guy’s dick. When we were all thoroughly pleased, we went and danced for a bit. A little conversation, some flirtation, then we all ended back upstairs in the infamous corner. Another MFM threesome and my pussy needed penetration rest. 

The room was dark, so I laid back on the bed with my body facing the room, and I pulled out my Womanizer. I turned her on, and shortly after, the sensations started to radiate through my body. I moaned and writhed with pleasure as the guests in the room speculated what was causing me to make my sounds. Hearing their wondering voices made my breathing quicken, and as I had my orgasm, I let out a loud scream and a steady stream of squirt. I realized the bed was now soaked, so I pulled up the sheet to signal for the attendant to switch it out. 

I wanted to freshen up, so I tip-toed to the 6-person shower. I removed my lingerie, turned on the water, and soaped up. I had an audience, and I liked it. I thought about playing with myself to give my onlookers a show, but my clit was still sensitive, so I just showered and went back to the room. 

I ended up back with my original players and a special guest star. He had told me earlier that day that he wanted to fuck my brains out; and that he did. For what felt like an hour, and a shower break somewhere in the middle, I was fucked while slobbing two knobs. With lube and persistence as my best friends, I survived the pounding he delivered to me. When he finally screamed, “I’m about to bust!” and did, the entire room was cheering for me. They all knew that I had just taken a thorough beating, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

Not too long after we finished, they began announcing that the club was closing. When I went to take my last shower, I was approached by BDE (the guy from Corset, Collar, and Lingerie – Part 3). I don’t know if he remembered me, but I definitely remember him. I gave him a short hello and went back to my partners. 

I may not care for eyes on me when I’m walking down the street or on the train. But, for some reason (maybe because it’s a sex-positive space), I love knowing that my sexploits are on full display. I suck with more passion. I moan so the person downstairs can hear me. And like a marathon, cheers from the crowd keep me going, so I can fuck longer. When I’m at a sex party, I feel that people are watching me, and I love it.