Category Archives: SEX STORIES

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

My Month in Russia

MY MONTH IN RUSSIA-01

Let the record state: I am down with the swirl. So when a good looking man, of the fairer complexion, that just happened to be Russian born and American raised messaged me on Badoo, I messaged him back.

On a Monday, N_Badoo messaged me and I replied back. We exchanged greetings, professions, and spoke for a few more days then he asked to exchange numbers, and we did. We agreed to meet that Sunday afternoon. So, imagine my surprise when I stumbled home on a Friday night and he hits me up that he’s in the city and wanted to meet for drinks. I had only been home for 5 minutes, didn’t even undress yet, so I figured, sure. He met me at a near by bar, The Duck, but they only accepted cash, so we walked to the ATM together. First thing I noticed was that he did not walk beside me. He walked ahead and I had to double pace to keep up with him. He got some cash then we went back to the bar. He got a beer and I ordered a margarita and we sat on the less crowded, although not quieter since the music was unreasonably loud. He got us another round of drinks and we conversed for about 2 more hours: work, travels, hobbies, foods and drinks we liked, families etc. The conversation was light and fun then he got up and kissed me. His kiss was extremely powerful and his hands felt amazing exploring my body. That went on for about another hour, then for some reason the bouncer kept opening the door and I started to get really cold. We went back to his car and continued kissing and feeling each other up. He tried really hard to get me to go back to his place but I was not with it; since he lived all the way near Coney Island and it wasn’t even a first date. But I did let him suck on my breasts. He did it so hard that I realized when I got home the stopper to my nipple ring was missing- How the fuck?

He met me on Sunday after I left the movies with my family. He drove from Brooklyn to get me and we went back to his place. We started watching Netflix and he made us dinner. After dinner we started kissing then he went down on me, satisfied my desire, and we started having sex. At first I thought average but once inside of me, and finding his groove, he grew exponentially-WOW! He felt amazing. We did a few positions until he finished then we rest for a little bit. We went back to watching TV, (he-from his chair, me-on the bed). In between his roommate came home, I guess he wanted to hang out with him for a bit, but he shut it down by saying ‘my girlfriend is here”. Girlfriend? We did not discuss this at all- I was not ready for this title, as I was still dating other men, and I didn’t feel he was either but I didn’t know what to say at the moment so I just let it be. About a half an hour later, he got the urge again and then again. I was enamored with his insatiable nature and it had been a while since I had a partner like him so I enjoyed every minute of it. Around 10pm we got dressed for him to drive me home. On the walk to the car, yet again, he walked ahead of me and I doubled my pace to keep up with him, I was again, annoyed.

Throughout the week we spoke on and off then we made arrangements for me to visit him Friday night. He picked me up, around 2am, from a party I was at and we went back to his place, we took showers then got down to business. The oral the second time around was less then satisfactory and the intercourse was only 1 and night. I love to cuddle after sex but he sat back in his chair when we were done. It did not enjoy laying in a huge king sized bed all by myself so I eventually rolled over and tried to go to sleep, and he came to bed shortly after. In the morning we had another session and then he had to go. He had a lunch picnic to attend upstate but before then he had a dentist appointment. After he finished with his shower, I went to take mine. He seemed annoyed that I wanted to shower and rushed me along because he had to make his appointment. He dropped me off at the train, I decided I wanted food so I found a place nearby, ate, and then went home.

The next day I asked him about the picnic. He mentioned, he got drunk and started making out with some man’s wife- sloppy much?. They got into a little fight but nothing serious happened. I took this as my chance to state my opinion. Keep in mind; I was still dating other men and I didn’t want to be his girlfriend any more that I felt he would be a good boyfriend so I proposed the idea that we remain just sex. We hang out and enjoy each other’s company, but no title and no responsibility and he agreed. The next few days went by ok. We continued to speak on and off but every once in a while he would say these things exuding extreme affection that made me scratch my head. Calling me pet names, and saying I love you, like I highly doubt you actually do but I don’t want to be a bitch today, so I’ll let you live. I realized that we never actually had a planned date. Every time we saw each other he and/or I were already out and/or we just went back to his place. So I messaged him said you should take me on a date: dinner and a movie followed by a night of sweaty sex. He replied –sounds like a plan and we agreed to meet on a Saturday. I checked with him earlier that week to make sure we were still on. He asked which movie and I said lets see what’s playing when we get there- because I could pretty much go with the flow. We agreed I would meet him in Brooklyn, he’d pick me up from the train and our evening would begin.

I called him before I headed out, just to do a final check, he answered and I made my way to Brooklyn. I texted him when I was a few stops away but got no reply. I called him when I got off the train-no answer. I started to feel a ball in the pit of my stomach. It was telling me, this night would not go as planned and that I should go home. That little ball comes in handy; the only problem is I rarely ever listen to her.

I walked to his apartment, knocked on the door and no one answered, I did it again and still no answer. I felt like a fool- I started to walk out of his building when I finally heard the door open. He was visibly drunk. He and his coworkers went out the night before and he was still hammered. I knew then this wasn’t going to be good. I sat down on his chair and we talked for a bit, the topic of food came up. I was hungry and so was he so we went into the kitchen to make some ribs and chicken. The entire time he flirted with me: kissing, touching, fondling, and rubbing, it was all very flirtatious and I enjoyed it. He kept calling me sexy and beautiful, saying how he was so lucky, and asking what would our kids look like, etc. I reveled in the fantasy of it all then when the food was done we ate. Maybe it was the 4 Coors Lights, or the unknown cups of vodka, or the almost 3 packs of cigarettes he smoked but whatever it was he became a pile of drunken stupor. He was so drunk he bit through a chicken bone fell off his chair, I had to assist him to the bed, and he even threw up on himself.

All the while I’m thinking I can’t ever find a happy medium. I go from a man that doesn’t drink at all to a man that cant control any of his alcohol- this night was shaping up to be a total disaster.

I ended up watching 6 episodes of Siren on Hulu then he partially woke up. Shortly after his roommate came home and wanted to go out and find some women. So, not wanting the night to be a complete waste I agreed to go out (not that I had much of a choice- it was either out or go home, and I really wanted sex). We went to a nearby bar called Wheelers and he acted like a total dick-bag; being rude to the waitress and servers and left a horrible tip, so bad that I gave the lady $15 just for dealing with his rude ass. From there he started talking to another Russian and convinced him to go to Williamsburg with us. So we got in an Uber and were off to Huckelberry Fin bar. The bar was nice, a good crowd, many of the people just came from a wedding so his roommate would have no luck finding a single DTF woman tonight. I was getting annoyed at this point: it was 2:30am, his roommate was socially awkward as fuck, and I just really wanted to have sex to make this night not a total bust. I pulled my guy to the side to tell him I was ready to go, but he wanted to party with his friends. Seriously- you met other Russian a few hours ago and you can be with our roommate any time. But because my shit was at his house I had to suck it up and continue to deal. We went to another bar where he got super handy with some chick and I was like dude I know we’re not a couple but have some decency- don’t be a dick in front of me. So I had to shut that shit all the way down. I was having an outer body experience saying to myself; why did you not just turn around earlier? Why did you continue to walk to his house? Why did you stay? And why did you agree to come out?

We made our way to what would thankfully be the last bar of the night Union Ave Bar or something like that. We get there and the music if bumping. Finally, at least I can dance and boogey to this. I find myself finally having a good time then this ass hole says it’s too loud and wants to step out side- Seriously What the Fuck!His roommate is still having no luck getting women- like zero! They go out to smoke more cigarettes. So just a side note: when we met he said he didn’t smoke, then when I went by his house the second time, it was I smoke cigars on occasion, then I realize that when he drinks he’s a chain smoker- Fucking Disgusting. Finally his roommate was able to converse with a group of girls visiting from Atlanta with their amazing black, gay, best friend (every one needs in their life by the way). He lied that he would be able to get them “party favors” at 6am and they should come back to the apartment. I knew looking at the girl that she was not going to give him anything but whatever this night was already a bust and they seemed like fun; so in the very least we could have a few laughs.  We all piled into an Uber SUV and head out. The driver takes the long route and of course my guy starts acting like a dick yet again. The white girl in the front from Atlanta is lit on trap music and we all make a request for something more ‘white’. Cue- Backstreet Boys, Britney Spears, and The Spice Girls- all resulted in an awesome cab ride home. Naturally my guy attempted to complain about our music choice and singing, at which point- I gave zero fucks. I left all my fucks on the dance floor after he made it perfectly clear that getting drunk with his friends was more important than spending time me. Back at the apartment I offered them the ribs and chicken and I got rave reviews for my cooking. We drank and had a few laughs. They tried to call their connect for party favors but at 6am he was asleep. The group left about an hour later and when I turned around my guy was lying across the bed tapped out. His friend never did get any sex because the girl had zero interest in him, wise woman she was. I left the roommate and other Russia in the kitchen and went to bed. I was on fire with anger, disappointment, and just the feeling of stupidity. Thinking another one I have to add to the list. It was very unfortunate, especially since when I made comments to him about him walking ahead of me and not cuddling he actually made those changes-so I saw potential. But the behavior he showed that night was unacceptable.

I slept for almost 2 hours then I had to go to the bathroom. He woke up for a few minutes after I did then went back to sleep. Then the coughing started (the coughing that was actually him throwing up); at that point I said Nope!I went into the bathroom, took a shower, threw on my clothes, and left the apartment. I have no intentions to reach out to him in the future. Next time I will listen to my little ball.                                                                                                                     

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! 

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. 

CHEERS TO THE NEW YEAR (2019 Recap)

Dear 2019, 

I’ll be sad to see you go, but I’ll remember the beautiful times we had. At the stroke of midnight, my family welcomed you with prayers and open arms. We made our traditional “Happy New Year” and “I Love You” calls, drank some champagne, and eventually retired to sleep.  

My first post in 2019, Yay! She’s Back was a story about my vibrator’s love for me. In the summer of 2018, I had made the decision to stop having sex, because I needed to allow my mind and heart to heal from all the heartbreak I had endured in 2018. I needed to re-devote my energy back into myself, and I didn’t want the exchange of negative energy that sex often brings. So, being that the only forms of safe sex are either abstinence and masturbation; writing a story on masturbation seemed quite appropriate. 

Inspired by a member in the support group that I attend; I decided to write and publish my, first ever, post on herpes; The Ex That Never Left. Hitting publish was the hardest thing I did in 2019 and it was the post that would forever shift the tide and purpose of my writing. Being positive for 10 years- ‘it was what it was’ and I operated on a need to know basis. When I started to write my blog, I had no intention to ever discuss herpes. But, I realized that, to be a great writer, meant to be vulnerable and to let people in. I couldn’t continue talking around herpes, I had to call it out and give it a seat on stage; especially if I planned to stand in my truth of sex positivity.  

With herpes out in the open, I was finally able to take bigger steps toward being the writer that I am now. I wrote about my first 3-some experience, in Turn Up while also coming out as bisexual. Because I wanted to experience a woman alone, I went on The Hunt. Unfortunately, I never found a woman or couple that was actually willing to meet up. It became abundantly clear that if I wanted to explore being intimate with women, I would have to step out of my comfort zone and walk into a sex-club.  

In March, after being ‘celibate’ for almost 8 months, I walked into my first sex-club; but it wouldn’t be my last. Being the new honest writer that I was, I wrote all about my experiences in; Corset, Collar, Lingerie 1,2, and 3). In concluding that I was, indeed, bisexual; I also discovered that I deeply enjoyed being an exhibitionist, amongst like-minded individuals.  

It was during this time that I started dating again. However, this time around I was playing by a different set of rules. Over the years of dating, since I was 14; I had experienced my share of heartbreaks. During my time of celibacy, I realized that I had set unrealistic expectations on my partners and they did the same to me. I realized that I dated, like many other people, only for the end game. I missed out on cherishing all the amazing moments because I was only focused on achieving one thing. It was then I realized that, not only was I limiting my capacity and the ability to love; but that I was forcing myself to be someone that I was not. It was then that I decided I would love polyamorously; and in Working The Garden, I dived deeper into my emotions.  

With my mind and emotions finally aligned, I was surprised to see how quickly my sex life got on board. For the first time, in a very long time, I was dating how I wanted, with men whose company I genuinely enjoyed, and the sex was not only good, it was kinky as well. I was finally able to explore sexual acts that I was nervous to explore prior in (Tabooty 1 & 2). 

In June, I discovered an invite-only sex-party; and I slowly became a regular on the scene. I was enjoying my moment of being an ethical herpes-positive individual, and shared it with you in (The Wonders of Coconut Oil 1 & 2). 

By the time August arrived, I had only discussed my herpes status on my blog and with select friends and family. It wasn’t until I wrote into Whoreible_Decisions, and was chosen to be a guest on their podcast, did I finally decide to go fully public. I first told the remainder of my family, I made all of my social media public, and I waited. I was surprise at how many people reached out to me after the episode dropped and I immediately knew that I had made the right decision. Naturally, because I was nervous, I had missed some key pointers, so being that I did have a platform of my own (even though small) I elaborated on some of the things I wish I had said during the podcast, on the blog post Things Unsaid.  

By the end of the summer, I was fully invested in the poly-love style. I had one primary partner that I loved dearly, whom I met at a sex-party; (I Only Wanted Sex: Then you happened) and I was dating three other men. Eventually one of the men realized that dating multiple women wasn’t for him so he ended things; (Tales of a Polyamorous Heart Break), and I, in true fashion, wished him the best.  

I was finally living my life to the fullest; I was building amazing connections, having great sex, and living and loving my truth; (End of My Hot Girl Summer & You Can Have It All)

Surprisingly polyamory was flowing smoothly. The only difficulty I found was having to explain, over and over, to people that weren’t in the lifestyle that Polyamorous Does Not Mean Sex-Addict). Other than that, I encountered no real roadblocks and/or difficulty dating, even while being herpes positive.  

As I write this, I could never have imagined being where I am now.  

After appearing on the Whoreible_Decisions podcast, I’ve been a guest on multiple other podcasts;  Shit! I’m 30 podcast, Something Positive for Positive People, and during my visit to Philly, to see Elton John, I (with my primary partner) were guests on the UnCumfortable w/ Muva Esh Podcast.  

In addition to publicly speaking about herpes on various podcasts; in the early fall I became a member of HANDS (Herpes Activists Networking to Dismantle Stigma). Almost every day I receive a new message from a person that tells me, hearing my story has helped them in some way. Who ever thought speaking publicly about having herpes would help so many people? It was a big step for me to take, but I’m happy that hearing my journey can help others. I offer tips on how to disclose to potential partners How Do I Tell Them. And I use my years of experience and words to combat bullying within the herpes community If Only It Were That Simple. 

In the year 2020 I foresee major changes in my personal life and career. I’m currently working on a book that hopefully will be out in the Spring of 2020. I’m also in the process of writing my memoir; and the future holds more fantastic ventures for me.  

So, I hope that you have enjoyed my 2019 re-cap and I hope you follow me into 2020.  

Happy New Year!! 

MY MOM FOUND MY PORN-OH NO!

I must’ve been between the ages of 8 and 10 when my mother first caught me masturbating. When she walked in on me rubbing one out, with my wash cloth, the look on her face was pure shame. I remember rushing my clothes back on, apologizing over and over on how I would never again do it, and how I would wait until I was married to have sex. Fast forward to today, I’m 33 years old, I’ve had more sexual encounters than I can count, and I currently have 3 sexually-romantic partners. I guess you can say, I didn’t hold up my end of the bargain.  

My mother found out, from reading my journal, that I was having sex. To say it kindly, she wasn’t pleased; but there was nothing that she could do. Sex was never something I voluntarily abstained from for too long. I was very aware that my mom wished that I would slow down, but I simply really-really liked having sex and I wanted it as often as I could get it. I loved the feeling and I liked knowing that I had the power to control my sexual destiny; and with time, I grew very confident with my sexuality. Unfortunately, I knew my mother wouldn’t see it the same way. Growing up in a patriarchal, society that shames women and our sexual bodies; I knew (long before I had the language) that I had to keep my sexual exploits from my mom and the rest of my family. I got very-very good at the art of omission and lying about where I was going and what I was doing.  

Over time, as I got older, my mom began to see the real-reality. Her daughter, despite having 0 kids, still to this day; was no good-girl. Her daughter liked sex, a lot. And, her daughter wasn’t always the most careful. And one time, her daughter made a porno. 

Now, for the record; it was amateur at best, so it was more of a sex tape. But she was not happy when she found it.  

As a graduation present, my dad got me a new Apple Desktop computer. Around the same time, I worked at a well-known restaurant in Harlem and I was heavily flirting with one of the servers. He was cute to me, and he had what I could only describe as ‘Swag’; but what I later came to define as BDE (Big Dick Energy). The way he walked with such confidence showed me that he would fuck the shit out of me, if given the chance. We flirted for a few weeks at the job and via text; but I still played hard to get. Then, one day he sent me a picture of his dick with the message “Come get this Cali dick”. My pussy got soaking wet and I knew I had to jump on it.  

I don’t recall the timeline; but I remember inviting him over to my house when I knew my parents were away. Up in my room, I sucked on his large dick until my heart was content. Then, some-how, we ended up naked. The kisses were decent but I knew what I wanted. I was feeling daring so I decided to turn on my computer to record us fucking. Every thrust felt fantastic and since I was much smaller than I am now; my body looked extra sexy. When it was all done, he got dressed and left. I stored the video in a blocked folder on my desktop, powered it down, and things went back to normal. 

Weeks had passed and we even had a party at my house where all of my friends and family came over to celebrate. That night, most of my friends crashed on the couch in the living room. When they all left in the morning, he remained. With my mom and dad, upstairs asleep, he bent me over and fucked me on the living room floor. After our quickie, he left; it couldn’t have been more perfect timing, because my dad came downstairs shortly after.  

The video had all but slipped out of my mind for at least a month. Then I got an enraged call from my mother saying; “OH! So, you’re a porn star now?” Not only had she found the video, but that my dad just so happened to be in my bedroom when she found it. Sure, I was embarrassed; but I was, to say the least, dumbfounded. 

Keep in mind that this is 2011 and my mother was (and still is) as tech savvy, as a snail is fast. Not to mention, this was a Mac, and before then, our house was all PC. So, the fact that she still had major difficulties getting online; but was able to find the video, in the first place; I had to chuck it up to fate. Some sex gods wanted her to find that video.  

Giving her time to cool off, I took my time going home when I got off of work. I couldn’t pull a Shaggy (It wasn’t me), so I had to own up to it. She had known for the better part of a decade that I was sexually active, so the sex wasn’t the issue. What she was pissed about; was that I used the Brand New computer to record myself fucking AND that my dad saw it.  

In the end, she couldn’t really punish me in response to everything; I was 23/24 years old; I had a job and the computer was, obviously, non-refundable. So, after a few weeks of evil stares casted at me; eventually she got over it. But I know in the back of her mind that sometimes she’s still pissed that I made a porno. 

LIKE A COZY SWEATER

Sex (for those that enjoy it) is a wonderful thing. After a long day, sex can often be better than a stiff drink. I love everything that leads up to sex; and it often starts from when he licks on my nipples, to when he buries his face in between my legs and tastes all of my juices. After he delivers me my first orgasm, he gets on top of me and slowly enters me. As I can feel his penis pressing through the tightness of my entrance and once he’s inside; I can only describe it as, amazing. But what does that really feel like, it’s hard to describe. As he proceeds to fuck me, in as many positions as my limited flexibility will allow, I revel in the pleasure of knowing that he too is loving every single moment of being in my body. When he finally reaches his orgasm, I deliver myself an invisible pat on the back and know that I have, once again, satisfied my partner. It’s one thing to know you’re a good fuck, but I’ve never known how good, until my partners started verbalizing it.  

The first time, I remember, a partner attempting to describe how sex with me feels, I was in my late twenties. This particular partner loved to fuck me; the problem is, he never lasted long. I would freshen up to go and see him. We’d kiss, he’d play with my nipples and he’d be hard as a rock. Then once inside, he’d deliver a few good thrusts; and although I could feel him trying to hold out, all the time he would fail. One afternoon I was highly upset, and I called him out on it and his response was, “he missed me”, and my pussy “was too good”. I asked him what he meant; because he made it clear that this only happened with me. So, I needed to understand what he felt. He described sex, with me, as; an ice-cold coke on a hot summer day, when you stopped drinking coke years ago. I guess I understood what he meant, and I was grateful for the accolade; but I had made up my mind that his sex was no longer worth the walk across the street for me.  

At the last swinger-party I attended, my partner and I had an amazing time. After he pleased me, I happily returned the favor, then we proceeded to enjoy the other party-goers. Every once in a while, in between our individual pussy devouring and sex sessions we would circle back around to one another, and reconnect. As the party came to an end and the lights came on; two of the men I had played with during the night couldn’t stop bragging about how good my “punany” (as one guy called it) felt and tasted. They kept calling it; good, amazing, and fantastic. They asked him if he was my man, to which he said yes. Then they proceeded to congratulate him on being able to enjoy me whenever he wanted. I didn’t quite know what to say; but “Thank you” and blush. 

In a room full of pussy, I was semi-surprised that mine garnered such accolades. I’m aware that when there is an emotional connection, the sex can be much more magical. But these were two strangers, and there was nothing but animal lust driving the interaction. I mean- sure, I do my Kegels; but, could sex with me be that different from other women? I had to take their word for it, until it was solidified with this remark.  

I had an amazing sex session with M_Tinder. We hadn’t connected in a while because we were both busy; but he didn’t let distance stop him from sending me enticing pictures and telling me what he planned to do to my body. When I arrived; after chatting with his roommate for a bit, we headed to his bedroom. After kissing, he made his way to my breasts then to my pussy. He used his tongue to deliver me an intense orgasm and long after he drank my juices, he kept on going. He took his time fucking my body in a variety of positions. He fucked my ass while I used my womanizer on my clit and found another, more intense, orgasm. Then, he switched out the condom and finished fucking me doggy style. We passed out, and in the morning, I showered and left for work.  

I was sitting down and eating my breakfast when he messaged me to make sure I had indeed enjoyed our time together. I told him I had a fantastic time and I asked him the same. That’s when he responded “Yes! Your pussy feels so great and comfortable.” At first, I took a moment to process exactly what he meant by it. More often than not, comfortable means just that, but without pizazz or anything special. So, needing better clarification I said, “Like a cozy sweater” and he replied “Exactly!”. Then it all made sense.  

You know the feeling of cold in the winter time. Not just any cold, but the cold that gets under your skin and sits in your bones to where nothing feels warm. Then, you find or buy this nice, fluffy, soft, cozy sweater that warms you up and then you just want to go to sleep… That’s how my pussy feels.  

IF ONLY IT WERE THAT SIMPLE (PART 2)

Joke: If you google random symptoms, all roads will lead to cancer. If you have sex, all roads will lead to herpes; it’s almost inevitable. 

5-Lastly, PEOPLE LOVE SEX! And the general public’s unwillingness to change their sexual habits is the leading reason people continue to get STD/Is. 

Take HIV for example; HIV, unlike herpes (HSV), is a fluid transmissible virus (passed via blood, semen, vaginal fluids, breast milk, and in rare specific* cases saliva). The virus has to enter the person’s blood stream in order to replicate. The most common and effective way to minimize their chances of getting HIV, are to simply use condoms/barriers and test your partners before having sex (before Prep and Pep, etc). Seems simple enough right… WRONG!!!! 

The truth of the matter is; many people don’t use condoms. For whatever reasons people give: they’re too tight, they feel uncomfortable, allergic, or they lose sensations, etc. It all balls (pun intended) down to people don’t want to use them. I’ve had plenty of partners throughout the years (before and after herpes) that will get annoyed with me when I stop and tell them to get a condom. When it comes to the topic of getting tested; I remember asking men and they’re response was “Why?  You think I got something?” or “Don’t worry, I’m clean”; without even being able to tell me when was the last time they actually went to the doctor.  So, when you consider the reality that the use of condoms can minimize the spread of HIV; and people still don’t want to use them; that’s proof that people would much rather live in the moment and worry about the possible consequences later. And, for what it’s worth- there is nothing wrong with that. If you want to live a sexually empowered life, then do it. But, in this era of sex positivity, the conversation of sexual health is often not had.

The above (5) examples play a major role in the spread of herpes. I find it highly imbalanced to only focus on people not disclosing as the main reason this virus spreads.  

Truth Serum: I can tell a man that I have herpes and educate him on all the possible ways of contraction; and that man may decline to be with me (which is totally fine). That same man, will still go out the following night and sleep with the next woman (who may not know she’s positive), and still end up with herpes.  

This little story, is just another one of the many reasons why I can’t get behind the attack of a single individual for not disclosing. Everyone that had consensual sex (myself included) could’ve taken extra steps; but we(I) didn’t. Even if I had taken the extra steps (as I lined out in Part 1), I still may have contracted herpes. But in my case, I looked at my partner, allowed my trust in him and my feelings for him to be all the proof that I needed. The use of my feelings, that allowed me to assume his words and actions, as proof of his sexual health, was in-fact a choice, MY CHOICE. This acceptance of choice is what allowed me to get rid of the anger and find peace with my diagnosis; and that allowed me to heal.  

Many of the toxic people I describe, and often debate with, hold onto that anger; and when someone even hints at not disclosing they go into attack mode; because (I believe) they’re still very angry. Some people choose to sit in the anger and dish it out rather than do the self-reflection and acknowledge the choices they made that landed them where they are. In the end it’s not about blame, it’s about choice. A choice that we had and made; a choice that, had we not contracted herpes as a result of it, we’d be proud to have made. Just because the end result was one that was not desired, that does not make the entire act any less of a choice. When we agreed to have sex, we all signed an invisible contract, without acknowledging the fine print.

So, getting on an invisible pedestal to degrade another person, just because their choices don’t align with yours, does not make you any better. At the end of the day; it takes two to tango, and each individual should be responsible for their own sexual health. We all should want to know our partner’s status; not just think and or assume it; but many people don’t ask. We all should get tested regularly, and be able to happily exchange results with our partners before we have sex; but many people don’t.  

The reality is, many people would rather not spoil the mood or miss the opportunity. Most people won’t even talk about sexual health before they have sex. And, many people would be very happy not knowing the truth. People want to continue living and loving as if nothing has changed; hoping for the best. 

It’s ok to encourage people to disclose by sharing your experiences. But to attack them, only puts people on defense and often times, they’ve already checked out of the conversation. Navigating this virus isn’t easy; we don’t have to make it any more difficult than it already is. 

It’s time to change the conversation on herpes and start being proactive about our sexual health.