Tag Archives: COVID-19

POLYAMORY CHANGES

It’s been almost two years since I’ve been living a polyamorous love-style, and it has still been one of the best decisions I’ve made in a very long time. When I look back and evaluate what has made living poly so unique, one word comes to mind, change. 

Many things have changed since I’ve begun living poly, and the master change has been my expectations and “rules.” When I was living monogamously, I had expectations that never seemed to be met (at least not by the men that showed interest). There were also many rules I once had that I’ve since dismissed or lessened dramatically since being polyamorous. 

This pandemic threw a flaming monkey wrench into my dating life and plans. I had hoped to build upon the connections I already had. I had hoped to finish my book in the summer and promote it across the country. And lastly, I had hoped to be out of my parent’s home. However, with the city shut down (I live in NYC) and minimal opportunities for inclement weather date-nights, dating expectations became limited and scattered. With cafés, and bookstores closed, my comfort in writing was halted for months. And, since the city shut down, the organizations responsible for construction shut down as well, and my ability to move hit a brick wall. 

All wasn’t lost, though. Sex-positive people never stay without sex for too long, and over the summer, I reconnected with a partner from my past when he asked me to accompany him in a swap. We chatted up and got reacquainted, and he expressed his desire to “get to know me better.” We had planned a date, then the city shut down again (LOL!) Anyway, we’ve been in contact, and he bought my book. When he got to the part where I mentioned my strict “no kids” rule, he was concerned. I had to explain to him, that was a rule I had when I was monogamous. But, now that I’m polyamorous, I’m open to bending it. 

This was my first time really acknowledging that my rules when dating poly had shifted. I am spoiled. I was spoiled then, and I am still spoiled now. I want what I want. When I was dating monogamously, because my partner was the only one, the last-minute adjustments of dating a man with kids were always an issue. Knowing that I had maneuvered my entire day or week to be available for him to cancel or change plans if he had to pick up his kids or whatever, I would get pissed. Monogamy had him as my only target, and all of my expectations rested upon his shoulders, and that wasn’t fair. Being poly and having multiple partners and relationships and my relationship with myself, I never exhaust my options. If a date has to cancel, I may still be a little bit upset, but it’s no longer the house of cards tumbling down it was before. 

Being polyamorous, having multiple partners and relationships (including the one with myself) now allows me to have financially fair relationships as well. Because my primary love languages are gifts and acts of service, I like and want shit! Dates, flowers, candies, trips, and etc. But I’ve always thought of myself as a fair girlfriend. I never wanted or expected so much from a partner that it put a strain on him. Many would say, “it ain’t trickin’ if you got it.” But most of my partners didn’t have it, and I knew it. And since I couldn’t be with someone solely for financial gain, I found myself in many fair or financially imbalanced relationships. 

However, with the above realization, being poly has made space for relationships I may have otherwise turned away. Repeatedly going out at one partner’s expense can be a financial burden. Having multiple partners to date on occasion allows my date bucket to remain full, without the strain. Living poly has also allowed me to re-prioritize and consider myself a fantastic date. 

When I sought monogamous relationships, my alone time was a byproduct of my partner’s cancelation or lack of funds. I was forced to find happiness in being alone. But now, that happiness is genuine and very welcome. Those long hours of being alone allow me time to decompress, zone out, and refocus my energy and goals. I get up, make my way to a restaurant, read a book or listen to a podcast, and go for a nice long walk all by myself. Before poly, what a partner didn’t have would’ve been a huge deal breaker, but in this pool of poly-love, the laser focus is no longer on the perceived negatives. 

The poly changes allow me to see and experience a different kind of love, a love that’s not solely based on what my partner can do for me but how I feel for and with them.

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.

WAIT A MINUTE, MR. POSTMAN

I don’t know about you, but since this whole Covid-19 lockdown has been in place, I’ve been spending a lot of money shopping on amazon.com. From acrylic nail kits, hair, leggings, and hoodies, I’ve been buying up a storm. It’s been over a month, and sitting in this house has driven me mad, with a massive case of buyer’s virus. If you’re in the same boat as me, you may have been doing the same. You may have also noticed that the delivery people no longer make contact. Since social distancing started, the delivery people simply knock on the door, drop the package, and keep it moving. I had grown used to this; then, I got a package that required a signature.   

On this particular day, the rest of my household was out. I had ordered a MacBook Air, and I didn’t want to risk missing the delivery, so I decided to stay home. I did a few video workouts and hopped in the shower. Right when I finished, I heard the doorbell ring. I threw on a towel, put on a pair of flip-flops, and ran down the stairs. As I ran into the kitchen to get a knife (something I always did), I yelled at the delivery man, “One Minute.”   

When I opened the door, my breath was stolen. He was tall, had gorgeous blue eyes, brown hair, and a very fair complexion. If it wasn’t for the mask covering his face, I would’ve thought he was Tommy from Power. Lost in the moment, I drank him in, and I could tell he was doing the same to me. He looked at my moist afro, to my still damp shoulders. I felt him visualizing my figure underneath my towel, and when his eyes locked in on my feet, he licked his lips. I felt my body getting hot as he analyzed every visual inch of my body. When his vision reconnected with mine, with a nervous yet sexy voice said, “I’ve got a package for you.” I took a deep breath, I felt my body grow hot, and my nipples began to perk up. With my arousal building, I replied, “I’m sure you do.” I reached for the package, and when his gloved hand grazed mine, it was like a fire was lit. With our eyes locked, he pushed open the door and entered my house.   

He pulled down his mask and began kissing and biting my neck. As he nibbled my ear, he pressed his body up against mine. I felt his muscles underneath his shirt, and I could feel his rock-hard chest pressed up against my breasts through my towel. My pussy was throbbing as I felt his dick grow hard through his uniform. When he sat me on the stairs, my towel fell open. He bent down and took my left foot into his mouth. He licked and sucked at every toe and left a trail of kisses up to my thigh. When he got to my pussy, he licked his lips then began to explore my opening. He ran his hands along the inside of my legs as he sucked my clit into orgasm. With the wood edge of the stairs pressing into my back, my body jerked with pleasure. Aroused, I pulled his lips to mine to savor the flavor of my pussy. I opened his belt and pants to free his hard dick, and god was it beautiful. He was long, with a perfect girth and full of veins. I could tell that he’d been without sex since the lockdown, and I was more than happy to drain him dry.  

I ran to my room to grab a condom, and when I came back down the stairs, he was more than ready for me. He turned me away from him and began licking and nibbling my bootyhole. He delivered my ass cheek a vicious slap, then slid deep into me. Every thrust into my pussy pushed me hard against the wood stairs. The pain was undeniable, but the pleasure of him being deep inside of me felt so good I didn’t want it to end. He wanted to get a better angle, so he pulled me up and walked me to the kitchen. When he sat down on a dining chair, his dick stood up at attention; and with pure carnal lust controlling me, I slid my wet pussy down the length of his shaft. I rode him until my pussy was sore, and as I felt my muscles vice-grip around his dick, I let out an orgasmic roar.   

After I regained my composure, I could still feel his dick hard inside me. As I raised off his lap, I wanted him to finish me in the worst way possible. I bent over the kitchen table, giving him easy access to take full control of my body. I heard him whisper, “fucking perfect,” then he entered me. By this time, all his finesse had left, and all the remained was pure animal. He pounded me over and over, delivering slap after slap to my ass. He pulled my hair back with one hand, while he choked me with the other. Then, right before he was about to cum, he let go of my neck, sucked at his thumb and stuck it in my booty-hole. If he had kept it there a bit longer, I would’ve had another orgasm. But right as I felt it growing, I heard him yell out, “FUUUUUCK!” then he collapsed onto my back.  

After a moment, he pulled out of me with a condom full of milky cum. He went up to the bathroom to freshen up, and when he came back down, we locked eyes; then I noticed his wedding ring. He must’ve seen me looking, but when he went to speak, I stopped him.  

“–Shh! Don’t ruin the moment. If we never see each other again, what does it really matter?” He had just fucked my brains out, delivered me two orgasms, and helped me live out a long-time fantasy. I offered him a bottle of water, which he accepted, then he went on about his day.   

I know a lot of you are probably thinking, “She ain’t shit!” But we were both lost in the moment, and talking about it (after the fact) wouldn’t change a thing.