Category Archives: SEX

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

I LOVE MY WOMANIZER

The first vibrator I ever purchased was the ever-infamous Rabbit. It may or may not have been on the heels of the Sex and the City episode; but, nonetheless, once I got home, I needed try it and see what all the fuss was about. Up until that point, all the pleasure I felt was either from resting in the bathtub and letting the water from the faucet pound down on my clit, or me rubbing it out in my room at night.  

In the quiet of my room, I pulled out my battery-operated Rabbit, put a condom on it, and went to town. The sensation of the penis-shaped felt good; but it was the vibrations from the ears on my clit that brought me to ecstasy. It was that feeling alone that I would continue to chase for years. A few times I purchased items to help me engage my G-spot: silicone inserted vibrator, even a glass G-spot stimulator; but every time, I only ever had clitoral orgasms.  Eventually, I stopped buying insertable devices and focused solely on my clit. I went through a series of pocket-sized vibrators: ones with changeable heads, and some with multiple speeds and vibrations. A few years ago, I happened into Babeland and purchased my Raines brand Vibrator. It was pretty, purple, had a multitude of patterns, and was quiet. She even came with a little pouch, with a lock and key. She held me down, then I had to replace her, and she was there for me for another year or two.  

A year or two later, I was determined to have a G-spot orgasm. So, I returned back to Babeland where I bought my ($120) Fifi by Je Joue rechargeable vibrator. When I got home, I charged it up for a bit; after I took my shower, I washed it off, applied some lube and waited for the magic to happen. The sensations were far more advanced from when I used the rabbit and I was able to cum 5 times. But, all of them were only clitoral. The amazing sensations did nothing to bring me to a G-spot orgasms, and because of that I was twistedly disappointed. I had come to the conclusion in my early 20s that I was one of those women that would never have a G-spot orgasm, but I loved sex and oral so much that; I can’t miss what I never had. With that, I stopped caring for artificial objects in my vagina. I love fingers, tongues, and dicks; and that’s enough for me. 

I loved my Fifi, but having to use the vagina insert, removed the fun for me, so I went back to my Raines vibrator. Then, I kept hearing about this thing called a Womanizer; it interested me because it was said that; the sucking mechanism was a totally new experience, not like other vibrators.  

So, I returned back to Babeland and with some skepticism I said, hell with it, and made my purchase. I walked away with my ($99) Womanizer Liberty Clitoral Stimulator. When I got home, I read the instructions, and charged the device. Later that night, I laid back in my bed, applied some lube to my clit and fired her up.  

The sensation was nothing I had ever experienced. I felt as if all the blood in my body was being drawn to my clit. I grabbed at my nipples as my legs trembled and my breathing grew deeper and heavier. With a final deep breath, my abs clenched, and my eyes rolling to the back of my head; I had my first Womanizer induced orgasm. My energy was depleted, but the whole ordeal may have only been 3 minutes. I looked up at my revolving ceiling fan and waited for my body to feel normal. I wanted to feel that sensation again; so, I spread my legs again and enjoyed the ride. Only this time, something felt different. Not only was my clit throbbing even harder this time, all my southern muscles lost control. I felt my orgasm building up and finally the release, followed by a steady stream of orgasmic fluids. It wasn’t a squirt; it was a juicy ooze. My sheets were soaked, and I gave zero fucks. I was in post-orgasmic bliss.  

I looked up at my ceiling fan, I felt the cool air mix with the sweat that had formed on my body, deliver a chill. I felt the moisture on the sheets, below my ass start to get cold. I reached my hands down to my opening and felt the cum on my fingers. I always loved the taste of my juices on my partners lips, after they ate my pussy, and I wanted to taste it again. It was deliciously sweet. I delivered myself one more orgasm before the night was through. When I was finished, I got my hair dryer, dried my wet spot, and retreated into a lovey slumber.  

I realized, after the fact, that it was the first time, in a very-very long time that I didn’t use porn to stimulate my mind. Ever since that night all Womanizer orgasms have been mental and breath only. Now, there are times when I forget to charge my Womanizer, and when I lay down, she’s dead. I would use porn and go back to one of my many other toys. But the Womanizer is in a lane all her own. I use her at night, in the morning, for an afternoon pick-me-up after work, and in the shower; it’s quite possibly the best toy I’ve had ever. It’s a fantastic toy to have in your arsenal. However, I have heard some women say it was too intense, but I absolutely, obviously love it. 

In my next post I’ll revisit the Tabooty series, and the role my Womanizer played in making the experience magical. 

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POLYAMOROUS DOES NOT MEAN SEX ADDICT

Two weeks ago, I finally deactivated and deleted my remaining dating apps (Tinder & Hinge). I came to the conclusion that; with the writing of this blog, working on my memoir, trying to get into shape, being an advocate for herpes, and dating 3 men; I have no energy, nor desire, to meet anyone new. So, I decided to call it quits and to focus on further building the connections I already have established.  

Over the past few months, after claiming my polyamorous label; I have put a lot of time, energy, and emotions into maintaining my relationships. So, it rubs me the wrong way when people dismiss my identification and connections, and say “so you’re just fuckin’ people!”; because, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! There is so much more to it than that. 

When I decided to live this lifestyle, I was prepared to answer the many questions that the monogamous world would ask. The; “what does polyamory mean?” or “how can I be comfortable knowing someone I care about is with someone else?” The answer to those two questions often goes something like this… 

You love your mother, father, and siblings. When you start a family of your own you love your partner, your child, etc.; love just keeps on growing. LOVE NEVER RUNS OUT. Now, you may fall out of love with someone, but love cannot be measured as a chart that gets divided amongst your loved ones, because it’s forever replenishing. So, when I identify as polyamorous, that is my goal; but before love, comes like.  

The above questions are fine; especially growing up in a monogamy-aiming society, there are bound to be people that do not understand the idea of having multiple romantic loves.  

However, I wasn’t prepared to have to defend said lifestyle. Against A) those that choose to belittle the decisions that we make with statements like: “if he loves you, he won’t share you” OR B) “what about all the STDs out there?” First of all, I’m a woman, not a pie. What does love look like anyway? And, secondly, I’ve found that those in this non-traditional lifestyle often get tested far more frequently and are more open to talking about sexual health, than those that are extremely close-minded to this way of living/loving. (Not to mention; I got herpes from what I thought was a monogamous relationship). 

In addition to defending my lifestyle choices, I’m also fighting off the, what I like to call, lifestyle-nomads. Lifestyle-nomads: are those people that truly have no desire to build connections. They may be the ones trying it on for size, or latch to the label because, on paper, it mirrors what they’re doing, but it lacks the deeper foundation. Just because you want to fuck a bunch of people and you want a date or two before, that does not make you polyamorous; that makes you non-monogamous. Living towards a polyamorous love-style is the ability to like freely and honestly, with the goal for like to become love. The goal is to have long-lasting connections of the heart and spirit, regardless if there is sexual intimacy.  

Now, being the sex-positive woman that I am, (who is, in layman’s terms- single); I can, technically, have sex with as many men and women I want. But, that’s NOT what I want. I love the connections, conversations, butterflies, honesty, and vulnerability that dating, in a romantic capacity brings. I never did and I still don’t get those feelings with just sex. Outside the walls of a sex-club (where a nick-name and a condom are enough); emotional, spiritual, and intellectual stimulation are necessary for me to become repeatedly engaged. I have conversations with my partners, I go on dates with my partners I spend time with my partners, and in addition to them knowing about what I do when I am not with them, they all know of each other. There is an honesty and transparency I associate with being poly, that I didn’t associate, when I was dating prior.  My partners make me happy and put a smile on my face, and I can only assume I do the same for them. So, when someone absentmindedly dismisses them as just a phase or sexual object; ignoring the amorous (love) aspect from the title and only focuses on the poly (many); not only is it very unsettling, it’s also not true. 

The second thing I didn’t expect was encountering so many half-assers.  

As started prior, polyamory is not for those that just like a lot of sex. For those people that are always horny and just want to have sex with everything that walks; that is non-monogamy. Another major part of being truly polyamorous is arriving at that space of love, and finding joy watching your partner experience love with someone else, with no fear of their love diminishing your own. COMPERSION! 

This COMPERSION is the part that many people find most difficult. Many people are happy to be open/non-monogamous/swingers, but the idea of love being added to the relationship, many people don’t want to explore that reality.  

In addition to the lack of compersion, I encounter a lot of misogynistic imbalance as well, in the poly community. I do now, and always have felt that polyamory, non-monogamy, and open-relationships only work when both partners are willing participants. One partner cannot be allowed to play the field, while the other has to sit on the side lines. 

Ladies, if your man can be with another women; yet you can’t be with another man; then that relationship is imbalanced. Ladies (and men) if your partner won’t stop cheating; so, you turn a blind eye and claim non-monogamy; again, that relationship is imbalanced.  

The recipe for a successful alternative relationship is an even playing field, constant communication, and checking in; there are rules within the storm, and both/all parties have to agree and follow the rules. That does not mean, if he/she has 3 partners, I need 3 partners too- NO! My schedule may only allow me 1 partner in addition to my primary, and that’s totally fine; after all, it’s not a competition. Decide what it is you want and do what works within the confines of the union that you two have set up. 

The last thing that bugs me, is the oversexualization of the polyamorous and non-monogamous community.  

We are Sex Positive; NOT Sex Addicts. 

Sorry to burst your erotic bubble; but I DO NOT think about sex all day long. Now, there is nothing wrong with those that do; I’m just stating that’s not me. If there are 24 hours in a day, I may spend all of 5 minutes total with sex on my brain, and that’s not even every day. So, it’s literally a turn-off when every exchange is about sex. I’ve joined several group chats, claiming to be for the poly community; and it was a stream of titties, vaginas, penises, and sex positions; I left each one within a week. I’m too busy to think and talk about sex all day long. Especially when it’s with people that I may or may not ever have sex with.  

I love sex when I want it; that goes for type, and locations. I enjoy anal play and anal sex; that does not mean that every night I want my ass fucked. I enjoy going to sex parties and engaging with multiple partner; that does not mean I want to go to them every weekend. Lastly, I enjoy being with women; that does not mean I need to eat pussy every day. It’s important that people understand that about me and other sex-positive people. Just because we openly talk about sex, that does not mean it’s on our minds 24/7. After all… polyamorous does not mean sex-addict.  

END OF HOT GIRL SUMMER

It’s official; today I left my house with my long flowing skirt, tank, denim jacket, and sandals; and DAMN! My toes were cold. I tune into my Monday morning, Whoreible_Decisions podcast and BOOM! The topic was the End of Hot Girl Summer (HGS). And with that, it’s only right that I write an homage piece on this fucking amazing summer that I had.  

To start it all off; and if you’re new to my blog; I’ll just offer a quick re-cap. Early this year, I went public with my sexual status (as HSV2 (Herpes) Positive), I also claimed my polyamorous, non-monogamous, and bisexual labels. With all of this out in the open I proceeded into the dating world, and to much of my surprise, it has been nothing short of a dream come true. 

The Men: 

I met my first post-poly partner in the Spring; after our first date, things progressed rapidly. We’ve managed to keep the connection intense and when we reconnect, it’s still as hot as the first time. We still continue to have amazing sex and explore new avenues of pleasure. I love sucking his dick and the taste of his cum. He loves eating my pussy, and I love when he plays with my ass. He was my first re-introduction to ass-play (Tabooty 1 & 2) and he aided in opening up an entirely new world of sex-ploration for me, which we are still exploring to this day 

I met my second partner a few weeks after the first; and he and I took things much slower though. He was in an open marriage and our schedules, in the beginning, didn’t always align. So, to keep the sexual tension hot, he would send me pictures of him jerking off and I would return the favor with videos of me playing with my pussy. He had(s) a beautiful dick; and all the videos we exchanged made me even more eager to experience him. It took almost 6 months before we became intimate, but once we did; we both acknowledged that the wait was totally worth it.  

I met my primary at such party, and he’s quite possibly been the best person to explore this revived lifestyle with. He matches my sexual libido, and he enjoys the many ways of kink, like I do. I could go on and on about all the amazing sex and sexual experiences we have; but what keeps me coming back is how he makes me feel. I don’t wonder when I’m with him; for now, we live the same lifestyle so I don’t have to convert him. He supports me in all of my extra-curricular activities, and he’s corny just like me.  

Parties: 

I attended my first of many sex parties. I accepted and relished in the fact that I enjoy being an exhibitionist. I love being pleased (in every way) while people gaze. I love the feeling of not-so-random hands caressing my breasts, as my partner devours my pussy; or a hand slaps my ass as I’m bent over sucking my partners dick; and I enjoy eating pussy that’s attached to a beautiful woman. I love knowing that the people at these parties are turned on by the sight of me, and I love how honest and freeing it feels to be in a room with like-minded people. 

Plugs: 

With ass-play back on the table; I found myself cruising the anal section at various sex-shops a little bit longer. I purchased a butt-cleaning kit, that came with a silicone butt-plug. I got fucked with a plug in my ass. I got a plug with a rainbow tail attached; and I even had some fantastic anal sex with my womanizer on my clit (That story to come soon). My primary just got me a present of jeweled butt-plugs that I’m so eager to play with in the near future.  

Podcasts: 

Last, but not least, I have to mention that; a lot of the comfort in coming out about all the things I enjoy sexually was aided by listening to the Whoreible_Decisions podcast. Knowing that two women, of color, were (are) so sexually free, allowed me to be more comfortable with my own sexuality. I was always a little freak, but much of what I did remained hidden. I did what I did in private, for fear of being judged, ridiculed, and/or outed. After listening to their podcast; I learned that whatever I put out there, with confidence, may never be used against me. If I owned my decisions and sexuality, no one could make how I choose to receive and/or give pleasure an act of shame.  

I had the pleasure of being a guest on their show in August, and I was able to shed light on living polyamorously, while being herpes positive. On the heels of the podcast, so many people reached out to me and told me how much hearing my story helped them. It makes me happy to know that my truth can help others; so, I know that I’m doing the right thing. Wanting to expand more upon that truth, I started writing my memoir. I’m so happy that I’ve been gifted with the ability to share my stories with my listeners and I hope you all will continue on this journey with me.  

Be sure to stay tuned; I have so many more, amazing stories coming to you; and I know you’re going to love them.  

I Only Wanted Sex; Then You Happened

From sex party to romance. Who would’ve thought that would happen.

You first laid eyes on me when I was in the corner being fucked by two men at the party. When I came up for air, you asked me a simple question; “Would I sit on your face?” I told you to give me a moment and I would get back to you. You didn’t know my STD status and I wanted to make sure you knew, before we decided to engage. As the party continued, I remained pre-occupied so I never got the chance to talk to you before the party ended. You walked with me and the other gentleman I had played with to the elevator and out of the hotel. While waiting for our respective cabs, you bravely asked me for my number; and I, gave it to you. You messaged me to make sure I got home safe; then I didn’t hear from you. 

A few weeks passed, and you messaged me a few days before what would be the second party we would attend. We texted back and forth for hours. It was weird that we had so much in common; that for a moment I thought you stalked my Instagram to know what to say to make me like you. I eventually realized it wasn’t an act and that we actually did like a lot of the same things. You told me that the next party fell on your birthday and as a present from me, you wanted me to sit on your face. I asked if you had read my Instagram bio; I wanted to make sure you knew that I was herpes positive and what that could mean for you. You thanked me for telling you and we continued our conversation without a beat.  

The night of reckoning, I arrived at the party early. I wore pink heels, knowing that you liked them and when you walked in, I shyly said “hi”. I was quasi-dating another partygoer and talking to the man sitting next to me – so I played it cute. When the party started, I went with you to the corner, we took off our glasses, and I gave you your birthday present. I sat on you face and sucked at your dick. I moisturized your beard with my juices and felt your tongue and fingers explore my openings. You brought me to a ferocious orgasm. I immediately wanted you inside of me, so I bent over ready to receive you. I was dripping wet with anticipation, but your birthday drinking festivities, from before the party, inhibited you; so, you went back to eating my pussy. You flipped me over and made a show of me as your meal. I was terrified that I would break my neck, but you kept your grip on my body secure. You laid me back down and buried your face and tongue deeper into me. With your finger pleasing my ass and you mouth on my clit, you brought me to yet, another magically loud orgasm.  

My second orgasmic outcry got the attention of the other party-goers. As your intoxication began to flood in, I retreated to shower, and, with that, I was stolen away. I didn’t see you the rest of the party, but you messaged me that, although you were totally shit-faced, you got home safe. I played with a few other men at the party that night; but something about you set you apart from the others.  

Our first date, was the day of the pride parade; we went to see Aladdin. Hot as it was, you arrived a cute and sweaty mess; we kissed then preceded to watch the movie. After the movie we walked to go and get dinner; then we walked some more. We took a seat by Madison Square Park and, of course, talked some more. So much laughter and joy filled that very first date. I felt so at ease with you; and although I didn’t want the night to end, we took the train to my neighborhood and you walked me to my building. A passionately long kiss was the end to our amazing night and we parted ways; that was only two months ago.  

 Since then: you’ve come with me to my herpes support group, you’ve supported me during my triathlon training, you’ve helped me fix my room, you’ve supported my writing, you’ve come with me to my writing group; all the while encouraging me to be nothing but myself. I wake up to your ‘good morning beautiful’ texts, I talk to you throughout the day, and you don’t let a night pass without wishing me a good night and sweet wet dreams.  

The first time you stayed over, while my family was away, you pleased my body every chance you could. From oral sex in the shower, to delivering my body deep thrusts in my bed, to burying your face in between my legs and bringing me to orgasm after orgasm; you more than made up for the party. And before, during, and after it all; you held me close, our bodies were intertwined as you laid with me, and I felt safe in your arms. Our naked flesh pressed up against each other as we drifted into sleep at night; only to start the morning with me taking your dick into my mouth and bringing you to pleasure. I was determined to make you cum and when you did, I didn’t stop. I kept going until you couldn’t take any more (payback for the many times you continued licking my clit past my orgasm). In short, that weekend was exactly what I needed; and had no idea I was missing. 

I was always told, if I wanted to find a good man, I would have to hide my desires. But, so far, you’ve proven to be a great man in my life, that fully supports my freak-filled ways. Not only do we have amazing sex, but we have amazing sex with other couples. You support me with all my choices, as I encourage you to pursue your goals. You make me smile till my cheeks hurt, and you give me butterflies.  

I only went to the party for some good sex; but I left with so much more. I can’t to see what the future holds. 

YOU CAN HAVE IT ALL

Variety is the spice of life; sure, we could fair just fine if we were all limited to just one essential item to survive with, but we all like having options (just not too many). I wouldn’t walk into a buffet and only get one thing. I look at the buffet, see what my options are, and attack accordingly. I try a little bit of this and a little bit of that; that way, when I go back for seconds, I know what to pile on and what to disregard. Stepping into polyamory, I applied this same idea to love and relationships.  

I love knowing that I have a connection with another human being. I love knowing that someone supports me and I support them; and above all else, I love knowing that I don’t have to sugar-coat my life or belittle myself to fit a mold. I also put the responsibility on my partner to make me happy. Then, I heard Jada Pinkett-Smith (on her show, Red Table Talk) discuss the importance of self-satisfaction and completion. She stressed the importance of being happy in your own life; not requiring outside things and/or people to make you happy. I interpreted this message in a way that made sense and it worked for me; and with that I was able to come into my truth and step into my polyamorous identity.  

I told my family, all in a group at my brother’s apartment, at the time. They didn’t quite understand what I meant (as they were all, like most people, monogamous); so, I had to break it down in simpler terms. After explaining, I don’t know if they fully understood my decision in lifestyle, but they said that they supported me, and that was enough. I currently have three men I’m dating; two men that I met in the beginning of my journey; and one that entered my life in, what seemed to me at the time, the most unlikely place (Hey Baby!- That story’s for another post). Since my journey began there was one other, but we’ve ceased communication. It was nice while it lasted, but as he was not “in the lifestyle”, trying to live a non-monogamous life was difficult for him, so we dialed it back to friends/occasional acquaintances. 

When I started this journey, I didn’t know what would happen; so, it was important to lay down some ground rules.  

Rule 1: Connection had to be more important, than the sex. 

Rule 2: Discuss and Disclose 

I won’t deny; that there have been moments where, going back to a monogamous way of living seemed easier. I’d find myself liking a moment and thinking, how nice it would be to have only him. Then I remember, living this lifestyle means I can honestly and ethically have it all. I can grab drinks and make-out one evening; and the next day I can do it all again, and finish it with mind-blowing sex. Knowing that I don’t have to limit myself has made all the difference. 

I won’t deny the fact that, it does require effort and time to periodically check in and make sure I’m attentive to all my connections, but it’s an effort of passion, rather than obligation. When I was monogamous, I felt obligated to call, text, and make time. Now, I do all of that, because I truly want to.  

For people that live monogamous lifestyles, they don’t understand my choice. It’s one thing to ‘get it’ it’s another thing to understand it fully. Many people, family and friends included, just think my decision to live this lifestyle is temporary. They think that my decision is parallel to that of someone who’s dating around or doing this until I find the one. When I speak of my primary, whom checks all of my boxes, they don’t understand why I keep the other men around. I have to re-iterate to them that the connections I have with my partners are stronger than that, and not easily dismissed.  

When the topic of marriage comes up, they wonder there as well. Being fully transparent with my partners, they all know that other men exist, in a perfect world, they may become acquaintances. If one desires to legally solidify our union, it would be understood that the other men would still be in my life in the same capacity.  

When the topic of children comes up, it’s essentially the same situation. For the next 2-3 years the baby making factory is closed, as I am on birth control. I’ve always known that weather or not, I’m asked to be a wife, being a mother was always a title that I desired. Of course, the concern arises; Whom would be the father? How would you choose? How would you raise them? Wouldn’t they get confused? I often counter; Many positive male role models is better than one. The father would be the father, just like a monogamous relationship. My other partners would be a figure in my child’s life in the capacity of a family friend or uncle; and when my child is older, I would sit him or her down and explain our lifestyle to them. 

Sure, it sounds crazy and complicated; but isn’t an honest, loving, and transparent relationships with my partners, and hypothetical-future children better than a broken home? I’d much rather see my partners getting along, my child surrounded by lots of love, and a few extra people. The saying, it takes a village to raise a child, should not be ignored in this lifestyle.  

When all is said and done, when the times are right; I will address each situation and make the best decision for myself and my family, along with my partner(s). 

GO FUCK YOURSELF!

People often get extremely pissed off when someone says this. This phrase often follows an argument or an angry exchange of words; finally, when either person refuses to argue anymore, they yell “Go Fuck yourself!” 

Anybody that knows me, knows that even though I’m one of the sweetest people you may ever meet, I can also be the most sophisticated asshole. Years of therapy and soul searching has taught me that, people can be very fucked up. People can have insanely horrible days, and here I come with my smile, making a mockery of their misery. Their only option to protect them from feeling even more miserable about their life, in my presence; is to try and fuck with me.  

A lot of research says that sex is one of the most powerful transferences of energy; hence why you’re only supposed to have sex with people you like; I, Thank God! do not fall into this category. Maybe I have an invisible-sexual-emotional-shield, that allows me to have amazing sex with a person I can’t stand and walk away energized and ready to tackle the world. On the other hand, non-intimate interactions have the ability to turn this happy camper into a raging bitch, that can easily empty out my pockets, and throw away all the fucks I ever gave.  

I had an incident last month, on a bus with my friend (Hey Girl!). Some ass hole guy (Chinese), disrespectfully approached me about a seat on a bus; where there were more than enough empty seats around for him to select another; but because my feet were on the chair – he was determined to cause a scene. On top of his overly aggressive tone, he proceeded to disrespect my upbringing and education; when his original argument was about me “paying for one seat” (stick to one argument buddy!). Then back-up Billy decided to chime in and add more fuel to the fire. By this time the bus is getting crowded and we’re all arguing on the bus. China man wanted to flex his muscles and “call the cops” For what? Mind you, he spoke to me (when he didn’t have to). He proceeded to sit in my face and degrade me; now he felt it necessary to call his cop friend and have the bus stopped. His friend was unavailable, so nothing happened. But let’s play this out:  

Officer: What’s going on here 

Me: Well officer, this guy disrespectfully yelled at me to move my feet (which as you can see, I already did as he is seated directly in front of me) Not to mention, when there were 6 available seats all around that would’ve avoided the entire argument. After he sat down, he proceeded to degrade me, and then threaten me by calling you. So, in conclusion officer, this man intentionally instigated a problem and is threatening my safety, and is also disturbing the peace on this bus. I would like to have him removed from the bus so that I and the other passengers may ride in peace.  

But, Like I said though, his cop friend was *busy and nothing happened.  

Back-up Billy wouldn’t let shit rest, though. He kept making light of the situation, as if my feet on a seat on a NYC bus, warranted him to talk to me however he wanted. And then he did the ultimate. He said “I thought because he was Asian, he wasn’t going to stand up for himself” to which everyone who heard the argument called BULLSHIT to. Race was the last thing on my mind. I didn’t care who or what he was, I simply didn’t appreciate his tone (PERIOD).  

Eventually shit died down, the Chinese man gets off the bus and the rest of the ride is quiet. When back-up Billy gets off the bus he says “Have a good evening” (Mother-fucker! You know you ain’t genuine!) So, my response was “Have the night you deserve.” I must’ve struck a nerve because he made a comment that I couldn’t hear over the laughter of the other riders.  

I mention this story because, this altercation really fucked up my energy, for a few days. I thought about how I looked to those getting on the bus, that didn’t know he was the aggressor (Crazy Black Woman). I thought about how peaceful the ride would’ve been if he had just sat on the other seat or spoke to me in a non-aggressive tone. I thought about what would’ve happened if the officer was available and all he saw was a CBW (there goes my 0 run-in with the police). I even thought, if I didn’t have my feet on the chair. 

But what didn’t cross my mind until I got home was; what was so fucked during his day, or in his life that, that’s the kind of behavior you exhibit. What person, (that looked like me) hurt you so bad that you decided to fuck with me- of all people? Then it all made sense. He was holding onto some bad energy the way a runner holds a fart during a marathon. When he got on that bus, he couldn’t hold it any more. It wasn’t enough to release it either; he had to transfer it… and unfortunately- It worked. 

I worked so well that I didn’t even masturbate when I got home, because I couldn’t focus on pleasure with such heat in my veins. By the end of the week, thankfully, I was back to normal; orgasms at night, exercise, and laughs during the day.  

One afternoon, I happened to be walking down the street and I heard a woman arguing on the phone and she yelled “Go Fuck Yourself!” I couldn’t help but think my response would be “Later tonight!” Think about it. Next time someone tells you to go fuck yourself, instead of arguing say “Thank you, I will when I get home” OR “Thanks for reminding me”. It will either enrage them or make them laugh, but what it won’t do Is fuck up your energy.  

SEX & SOCKS

The warmth of my partner, his skin against my skin, hand cupping my bare breasts, and legs intertwined as he spoons me from behind is all that I need, after a good sex session. When I’m with my partner, the only barrier I want between he and I, is a condom. That means I want him totally naked; and that means NO SOCKS!! 

It’s been a hood-urban legend that men who have sex with woman, with their socks on, don’t really care too much about said woman. Although I used to believe this, without a doubt; recently, I’ve come to believe there is a grey area. Take for example, my primary guy at the moment; he loves fun socks: Stitch (from Lilo & Stitch), and Jack Skelington (from The Nightmare Before Christmas), and the list goes on. When we have sex, his feet are bare. But, seeing as his socks are dope, I would be willing to let him slide. Not to mention, there is also a huge debate on Reddit. Those that are pro-socks; claim that- in addition to keeping the feet warm, they may aid with the female orgasm. I’ve never had a problem getting off without socks so I don’t care to start wearing them now. Let me also make it clear; I’m not talking about fetish foot wear either (more often worn by women); body stockings, tights, thigh-highs, and ruffled socks fall into a different category, all together.  

The socks I am talking about, are the old school 6 to a pack, white tube socks; I don’t even give a fuck- if they are Nike socks… If I’m butt-ass naked – then he should be too.  

Some men: Latino, Caribbean, and White are more often than not, barefoot when having sex- I notice these things. I also noticed, especially in my youth, dealing with niggas, (niggas as a state of mind vs. an actual race) many of them kept on their socks. I’ve witnessed quite a few men take off every item of clothing, down to their underwear yet, leave on their socks. So, I asked the question, “If a man has sex with his socks on, what does it mean?” 

I got a good amount of responses that, socks offered better traction. To me, it would seem more logical for both socks and sneakers, instead of socks alone. And some women agreed with my original idea that; if a man wears socks in the bedroom – he isn’t serious about you.  

The overwhelming response was: he has ugly feet. This answer got me on two sides. On one side: You’re willing to have sex with me, but aren’t vulnerable enough to let me see your feet?  And two, why are your feet so jacked up in the first place? 

I find it my obligation to say this… TAKE CARE OF YOUR DAMN FEET!!! This goes for men and women. I recently saw a porn movie where the chick had on a tacky weave and some dingy tube socks. I was able to overlook the weave but her having on socks pissed me off on a level I didn’t understand.  

I judge men that wear dingy socks with slides. Seriously! You can’t afford a clean pair of socks? 

I judge women that wear socks with slides, period! Don’t think I don’t know what’s going on in those socks… 

I judge men and women when their feet are dry and ashy. How hard is it to lotion your damn feet? 

And, I judge women that show their toes when their polish is badly chipped. How difficult is it to buy a bottle of nail polish remover and cotton balls? 

So, seeing a woman (or a man) in a porn with socks on, pisses me the FUCK off. This is supposed to be a fantasy! There is nothing fantastic about dingy white socks. At least get some fancy socks. 

1- This should go without saying; but, wash your feet when you’re in the shower. I mean, actually take a cleaning device (rag, loofa, exfoliating gloves, etc.) to your lower body parts with soap and scrub. Because soapy water running on your legs and feet, does not make them clean.  

2- Once out of the shower, moisturize your entire body (not just the parts that people will see). This means your feet! I will not have my legs all scratched up because you don’t care to lotion your feet.  

Ceasar from Black Ink Crew posted a picture of his crusty feet on Instagram and I was disgusted. The fact that some men walk around thinking that crusty toes are acceptable- is NOT OK.  

Let me make this clear… 

It is not ok for men to have gross feet.  

It does not make a man gay, if he goes to the nail salon to get a pedicure and/or manicure.  

So, please take care of your feet and hands.  

Occasionally people, especially women, get corns and bunions, from wearing heels or ill-fitting shoes. This is common, so this is not what I’m referring to.  

I’m talking about the people that don’t pay attention to the color of their toenail changing and 3 years later the shit is either some weird yellow or green shade, black, or thicker than a notebook. Bad toes, like bad teeth don’t happen overnight. So, that means you neglected your feet for years? I have to wonder- What else on your body do you neglect? 

You should always put your best feet (and hands) forward. When I’m single, I’m still at the nail salon every 3 weeks getting my nails and feet done; I wouldn’t have it any other way. I block out the 3-4 hours it will take; I often come in with some images of what I want, and let my lady do her job. I question women that only care about their nail maintenance when they’re in a relationship. I often wonder…Do you just give up when you’re single?  

But, back on the topic of sex and socks.  

There’s nothing I love more when my guy rubs my feet. I love when he runs his hands up my calf to my feet and pushes them back and over my head. I especially love when he’s hammering away at me and he takes my toes and puts them in his mouth.  

You simply can’t do that with dingy tube socks on. NO! NO!