Monthly Archives: February 2019

I blamed YOU!

I met you on the heels of a breakup. You were my friend’s cousin. Your height was just right and your confidence was overflowing. When I got in the cab you didn’t stop hitting on me; your compliments coupled with my skin-tight dress and high-heels made me feel oh-so sexy. On the lowest level of Pacha I felt your body press against mine as we danced. On the dance floor you took my hand and placed it up against you dick; and, in that moment I knew I was going home with you. 

We almost had sex in the alley way; my leg was wrapped around your waist; our tongues were down each other’s throats and my pussy, it was soaking wet. I would’ve bent over right then but then our cab arrived. That night when we got to your house, I removed my shoes as not to wake your family. Once we entered the room you fucked me for two hours. I had never felt so raw, pained, and pleasured all at once. It was amazing and I wanted it all the time.  

We saw each other every weekend, like clockwork. We were together through 3 different birth controls, I let you fuck me while I was braiding your cousin’s hair. You also were the first to put it in my ass. You laid me on your couch, you prepared me just right; one finger then another. We took it into the shower and then we ended back on the bed- in bliss. I met your friends and we all hung out together. They, for sure, thought we were a couple; until one day I came by and saw condoms, which, by that time, we were no longer using. I asked you about them and you were honest. In all actuality there was nothing to hide, since we never discussed exclusivity. I was just shocked- I mean I would fuck you from sun up to sun down, Friday-Sunday, if you wanted more all you had to do was say so; you didn’t have to find someone else. In the end you told me nothing happened and I believed you; but something had changed. I started to want more. We had been fucking for almost 7 months now. I wondered, would you ever want to be in a relationship with me. I got tired of wondering and waiting- so, I asked you. The answer you gave me was bullshit but I had no choice but to accept it.  

We stopped contact for a few months but eventually I let you weasel your way back into my life. You called me one night and told me you were in front of my building. My mind and my heart were telling me “no” but my pussy was had already unlocked the door and was pushing the elevator button. In the car you apologized and told me you still cared about me; music to my ears. We were on the highway doing 75mph on I-85 when I took you into my mouth and possibly gave you my best head ever- GOLD STAR FOR ME! When we got to your place my denim short were off. You sat on the couch and I rode you cowgirl style until I felt you release in me. With your dick going limp inside of me, you then told me that you had to tell me something. That something was that you had a girlfriend. I slowly got up, allowed your juices to flow down my leg as I walked to the bathroom to clean up; I didn’t look in the mirror. 

In a time before Ubers and unwilling to pay for my cab back to Manhattan from Yonkers I laid down in the bed next to you. My body was numb, and all I could see was red. If I wasn’t afraid to go to jail, I would have murdered you in your sleep. You slept like a baby as I hovered over you like a vulture ready to pick at you dead flesh. I woke up exhausted, you dropped me off at the train (I didn’t want to be in your presence any longer than necessary) and I told you to forget you ever met me. I told myself on the train that I was going to stop dating for a while, and I did. Three months later I met will and six months after that I was diagnosed with genital herpes.  

Every action receives an equal and opposite reaction. So, the reaction to you breaking my heart pushed me into the arms of another man; and that man gave me herpes. I blamed you. Had you just given me a chance to be your girlfriend when I asked you months ago- I wouldn’t have met Will. Had you not called me that summer night- I wouldn’t have met Will. Had you told me you had a girlfriend before I sucked your dick on I-85 and we fucked; I would’ve wished you all the best- and, I wouldn’t have met Will. 

You see- it was all your fault. Your actions (or lack of) caused the ripple effect that forever changed my life. When you came back into my life, just over a year later, I still blamed you. When you apologized to me, I forgave you again and it was just like old times. Every weekend I was at your place, I would go with you on your work routes, and it was just like old times, only with a touch of herpes. One day I asked you, why did you choose her. And true to your fashion, you gave me an honest answer. You told me that you wanted to fuck because she had a big ass, but she wouldn’t let you unless you made her your girlfriend. Oh- so that’s how it’s done! You told me that she was there for you in ways that I was not. However, you completely ignored the fact that you didn’t allow me to be there for you in that way. All the dinners with your family, the birthday parties, the hanging out and partying with you and your friends meant absolutely nothing. I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t continue allowing you to emotionally fuck the shit out of me. It was good but I had to walk away.  

I eventually told you that I had herpes and you told me you would go get checked out; you did and you were fine. So, even though you had been careless with my heart, my reaction was not to be careless with your health. I still cared for your well-being, so I did what I could to keep you safe. I made sure I didn’t see you during my outbreaks, I gave myself a generous waiting period before I would see you again, and I took my meds; and it all worked out. We stopped seeing each other though. I couldn’t bring myself to contact you again; too much had happened and there would be no fixing it. We remained anti-social social media friends; every once in a while, you would like a picture or a video I posted on Instagram and in reaction I would like one of yours.  

On New Year’s Day I got a call from an unknown number, I wasn’t going to answer since it was probably a ro-bo call. I was 5 sangrias in so I picked up the call, and it was you. My ears didn’t recognize your voice but my body immediately started to tingle. All of a sudden, the sensations came flooding back; the entrance, the panting, the grinding, the kissing, the nibbling. The conversation was light and innocent but the images in my mind were not. At the end of the call, we wished each other well and hung up. My immediate thought in reaction to your call, was to go to the bathroom and help myself to an orgasm but, I did not; I simply ordered my 6th sangria; I blamed you for that too. 

The Significance Of Valentine’s Day

Valentine’s Day is great; but what about the other 364 days?

So, today is Valentine’s Day. I waited for Facebook to share with me my previous memories, hoping that there would be something good. Unfortunately, I discovered I didn’t post much over the years. In 2018- I posted nothing. In 2017- I posted about my disdain for Betsy DeVos, and my love for Beyoncé, and about the ‘90s show Ghostwriter (if you remember that show – you’re the real MVP). In 2016- It was cold as fuck, so I posted a meme of the weather also being single and another Beyoncé meme. In 2015 and 2014 I posted nothing (these were the years I was with my fuck-boy of an ex “The Ex Files”). And, in 2013 I posted a meme about my then boyfriend; the first meme was, “I have the WORLD’S MOST AMAZING BOYFRIEND! LOVE!!!!!!!” (He surprised me, at work, with an Edible Arrangement basket). The second meme, “When you know that you will never be alone on Valentine’s Day, ever again.” Looking back now- I realize that was one of the dumbest things I ever posted.  

I have been ‘alone’ for the last 4 Valentine’s days and I don’t want you to feel sad for me. After I broke up with my ex in 2015, (right before Valentine’s Day) I felt a sudden weight lift off my shoulders. I was truly happy to be single; not because, I just, wanted to be single; but because I no longer wanted to be with him and I knew that I would never be let down in such a way again.  

So, what is the significance of Valentine’s Day when you’re in a relationship vs. when you are single? 

I often hear people say that ‘everyday should feel like Valentine’s Day’. That’s a great aspiration; but the reality is that most relationships are not set up that way.  

I also hear a lot of people expect the full red-carpet treatment. (Proposals, flowers, candy, fancy dinner, etc.). This, too, is great, but what about the rest of the year? 364 days of chopped liver and one day of Surf & Turf… I don’t think so! 

Lastly, I notice, it has become a day of confirmations. In this era of just-chilling, bae, boo, and title-less sex-sationships; this is the one day all those people that want to know “what are we?” and they expect an answer TONIGHT! This, to me, is stupid people’s logic. If I want you to be my man, I’m not waiting for a certain date to confirm it. I’ll make it clear once I feel it and then you have 48 hours to give me your answer. (Cause consider this: if we’ve been seeing each other for months- if by now, you don’t know if you want to try and make this official, you probably never will. 

Do we allow our relationship to be basic as fuck all year around, waiting for our partner to pull out all the stops, and if they don’t- we walk away; or, if they do- we stay? On the other hand, if your partner is romantic to begin with, the person that sends you flowers (just because) or takes you out to dinner (just because); is there still an expectation for grand gestures if every day is a fairytale? Every couple is different and has to define what works for them. 

Take me and my friend Cat for example.

 In 2015, it was my first V-day with my fuck-boy ex and her first V-day with her- then guy she was dating, now husband. They had an established date night where they would go out, I believe once a week, and have a romantic evening. I, in my relationship, had no such thing. Fast forward to a year later, dates in my relationship were few and far between and eventually I broke up with him. My friend and her man were still going strong. When Valentine’s day came around, it was cold as fuck (single digits cold), I asked her what were their plans and she said they were staying in because it was too cold, and that it didn’t matter because they went out last week. They enjoyed a nice evening together and that was that. Fast forward to marriage, baby, and I another on the way; all while maintaining a certain level of romance.  

What I took from this was, you have to consider what this day means to you long before you bring a person into your life. You, also, should not revolve your entire relationship around this day; because it sets an unfair expectation on the person coming in, especially if you don’t make your expectations clear in the very beginning. 

When you enter a dating-ship set the standard high; in doing so, when things, become more relaxed (as relationships often do) you won’t find yourself at a disadvantage. You may start at dinners out 2-3 nights a week and that may decrease to 1-2 a week- this is not the end of the world; but that depends on you. However, if you know you prefer 2-3 nights and for whatever the reason, you let 1 night be the starting point (and I can guarantee that, over time, it will become no nights); you will have no one to blame but yourself.  So, to avoid being in a less than happy relationship down the line, set the tone from the beginning.  

I have spent the last 4 V-Days a single woman. Last year I was looking for a new job; so, I was probably home working on my portfolio. The year before that I think I celebrated with friends for a birthday; and beyond that, your guess is as good as mine. What I do know is that- I did not wait for a phone call that would never come. I didn’t wait for flowers that were never sent. I didn’t wait for a card and chocolates that I would never receive and, I didn’t wait for a romantic date that would never happen. I watched whatever movie I wanted. I went to the restaurant I wanted. I had sex with whomever and however I wanted, and I loved every minute of it. 

Over the years I have become extremely comfortable and happy being single. Sure, I would like to make a flip-a-gram of my perfect relationship; and I’d like to be one of those obnoxious couples that people want to poison. I know that down the line I want to be a wife and have a family- someday. But I know I don’t want that right now. I don’t want to give up on my freedom, and on a certain level I find it unfair to subject an unknowing victim to the clusterfuck of a life that I choose to lead. Between work, blog writing, novel writing, marathon training, triathlon training, juggling time with my family and friends; a relationship ship would drive me over the deep end.  

One day, when I’ve completed most of my goals, I’ll be ready for a relationship (of my liking) and I’ll be one of those obnoxious couples. But that day is not today. This morning I took a run class and after I leave work, I’ll be heading to meet with fellow writers; we’ll drink some wine, eat some chocolate, write, and share some sexy stories. And that is how I will spend my Valentine’s Day this year.  



When I’m on a mission- I enjoy The Hunt!

Be sure to read the previous post “Keyword: Turn Up”

So, there I was, emotionally glossed over, glowing like the star atop the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree. I was in a state of orgasmic bliss; I had probably just had the best sex of my life and I couldn’t wait to get back and do it all over again.  

My trip to Jamaica started off as total shit-show. We flew out during hurricane Harvey; so, our connecting flight from Texas to Jamaica was cancelled. We waited 10 hours in the airport for a flight to take us back to New York. I spoke to the couple, told them the entire fiasco and they seemed genuinely concerned. We had to wait an entire day, spent hours on the phone with the travel company, airlines, resort to sort out the change of details. We finally made it to Jamaica and the trip was fantastic, aside from a few hiccups, all was good.  

I didn’t speak much with the couple on the last few days of the trip, but I didn’t think anything of it. When I arrived back in New York, after sending multiple messages and receiving no reply I was quite sad. I thought that I had struck gold; but there I was, like a lost puppy trying to find my owners. Eventually I logged back onto the site and he messaged me. I was kind of surprised because the pictures that once included her were no longer attached to his profile. I asked him what happened and why the silent treatment. He explained to me that they had gotten into a huge fight and she took her things and booked it. I was sad to hear that 5 years of a relationship had gone down the drain, but more saddened at the fact that, I would never get to experience them two again. In a last-ditch effort to not dismiss fantastic sex, I did offer him my “services” if ever he wanted… but he never accepted my offer. 

The experience had opened up a whole new world for me. I was bisexual, or was I? I knew I enjoyed the couple aspect, I knew it was pleasant eating her out, but did I like it or love it enough to really call myself bisexual? Did I enjoy satisfying her of my own accord, or did I enjoy it because there was dick present? I had to figure this out. To eat or not to eat- that would become my mission. 

Since I didn’t want anything serious, I stayed on Positive Singles. I figured it would be easier to approach a bisexual or lesbian woman that was in my same situation rather than go on an outside site, actively pursue a woman, only for a test ride. 

I got many advances in my quest, but none were what I wanted. The first was a woman that lived in the Bronx (I think); she was pretty, but way too big for me to want as my first solo-female experience. I don’t mean to be a size-ist, because I know I’m a thickums myself, but I don’t want to have to lift your FUPA up to get at you hidden treasure- I just don’t want to!  

The second woman I spoke to was a cute slender Latina. We spoke often and exchanged a few naughty pics. She was way more aggressive than me, which was a good thing; and, she loved girls my size. The only problem was…EVERYTHING FUCKING THING ELSE! She told me she had a child; Which in itself, wasn’t a deal breaker because I wasn’t trying to date her. I just wanted to eat her out to confirm if this is what I like. But when she told me she had roommates and her child didn’t live with her- I immediately questioned her character. The next red flag was, she had a boyfriend. Now, of course I would not have minded if he wanted to join but she tells me that he doesn’t know about her bisexual life… so she wanted me to be the side bitch- Um No! But even with all that, I still considered meeting with her, that was until… she told me where she lived. She lived in Brooklyn, a two-fare zone to be exact. So, if you’ve read my “Too Far for Richard” story you know I refuse to travel far for dick; so, I’d be out of my entire mind to travel far for some kitty-kat I’m not even sure I like. I told her it was not going to work and that was done.  

My next encounter was another couple. When he messaged me, his profile stated that he was allowed to do whatever and she was an “opportunistic bisexual”. So, we exchanged numbers and set up 3 group chats. One for the three of us, one for him and I, and the other for she and I. I spoke to her to make sure she was ok with whatever would happen and she gave me the green light. They sent me videos of them having sex and he hung like a horse! The way he gave it to her got me insanely excited, so I was really looking forward to meeting them. We tried to connect a few times but things never panned out. He had kids from a previous relationship, we all worked opposite schedules and lastly, they lived in upstate New York and you know what that means… Eventually we lost touch. A few months passed and he messages me, telling me that they had separated. Another one bites the dust! 

My last encounter was a couple I crossed with on OKCupid. They had a shared profile and they messaged me that they were looking to have a guest star. I was all for it; they were a young black couple living in Brooklyn (a one fare zone), and both very attractive. I explained to them my herpes status before we took our communication further and they still asked to exchange numbers. We set up a joint group chat and got to know each other. I was in Brooklyn a lot, around this time; Friday nights singing karaoke, meeting friends and such. I would hit them up whenever I was around but they could never meet at those times, and a few times they had made it into the city and asked me to meet for lunch, but it was always too late. I was scheduled to run the Brooklyn ½ in May so I told them, in advance that after the race, a shower and lunch with my friends, I would be willing to meet. After I finished all my plans, I messaged them, agreed to wait around for a bit but eventually I just got tired of waiting and I went home. We tried a few more times to meet up but nothing happened. Then I realize she left our group chat… WTF? He messages me and tells me that they broke up, because she was being dishonest. What that meant- I had no clue and I didn’t care. I was pissed. 

Question: Did you ever start a new job and after a month in it feels like every employee either quits or gets fired and you wonder if it’s you? Well that’s how I felt. I was 3 for 3 with these supposedly open/poly- relationship types and all of them broke up after talking to me. I know I can’t take that credit but it made me think of two things. 

1- Were these couples really about that life? OR were they using the open/poly label to try and fix a dead-end relationship?  

2- Why was it so hard to find quality, uncomplicated, attractive pussy? I still continue to search for the peach that will make me check the box either yes or no. I still continue the hunt. 


When I discovered I liked women too.

Ever since I was 14 up until about 18, when it came to online dating, I would establish necessary precautions. After exchanging numbers and many pictures, we would plan to meet in a crowded area, and as a final safety precaution- I would let one of my friends know where I was going. I would text them his picture and/or address for safety. Worst case scenario, if I was taken by a serial killer- they would know where to start. Eventually, I stopped installing these precautions and just hoped for the best. But, in the summer of 2017, I for the first time (in a very long time), dug into my old bag of tricks and implemented the “TURN UP”. 

I was on the dating site Positive Singles, and this handsome stallion came across my page. He was white, had brown shaggy hair, and had broad shoulders. His face was blocked out; but, I discovered, it wasn’t uncommon for this site. As I continued to swipe the next picture was of him and his girlfriend, also blocked out. They lived together in Brooklyn and stated they were an open/poly couple and were interested in meeting a female that wanted to play (This peaked my interest). I always wondered about my bisexuality; sure, I had kissed girls before but I never went beyond that. So, after we exchanged numbers, he sent me their pictures. He was handsome, to say the least, and athletic; and she was very pretty and had the body of a dancer. After talking to them for about a week, we worked out the kinks to meet at a bar downtown to see if we wanted to take our encounter to the next level. 

On the walk there, I was so nervous as hell. I felt like I was going on an audition for a job that I way too underqualified to even dream about. I knew they knew I was black but what if, when they saw me, thought I was Too Black (what that actually means- I have no clue, but it was a thought at the time). I had a lot of recent pictures on my profile but I had some older ones too. I had pictures from a land before time; pictures where I looked super tiny to me (but, probably not smaller than an 8). I didn’t want to walk in and upon seeing me, they felt catfished, throw drinks in my face and run out of the bar. So, I put my best foot forward.  

The day was hot, somewhere in the 90s. I work fitted black mini dress, a flower print beach duster, my colorful sandals and I wore my hair in an afro. They were seated in the back when I arrived; I spotted them right away. I walked to the back, sat down, and we immediately hit it off. He bought the first round of drinks, she bought the second, and we talked for hours. They seemed to have a deep connection and it was refreshing to see a younger couple living so freely. So, I had to know why they. wanted to bring another female into the mix. The situation was this; prior to being with him, she was a hardcore lesbian. She had been with men before but not seriously. So, when fate brought them two together, she fell in love with him. But there would always be something he could not give her, (dick is simply not pussy… It just isn’t). So, every once in a while, they would seek an interesting female to come and play. I went to the bathroom; and, when I came back, they gave me the news that they wanted me to be their Guest Star. (Yesss!) We agreed to set a date in a few weeks when I got back from my trip to Jamaica, and we departed.  

During the week they asked if I could meet before my trip. I had to do some serious maneuvering to make it happen but I was eager, so I did. That night I dragged my shit from home all the way to Brooklyn to rendezvous. I told my friend; who also lives in Brooklyn and whom I was also travelling with, my plans. I told him if I did not text TURN UP after every message to call the cops… (just to be safe-of course). I got to their place, it was nice. We had a drink to loosen up and he asked to kiss me. Man! He was a great kisser, and then she came over and we kissed to. Geez! Another great kisser. She suggested he go to the store and buy condoms, since they had none. When he returns, she and I are making out and we all go upstairs to the bedroom.  

Once upstairs, clothes are removed and we move to the bed. Hands, lips, limbs, and tongues are everywhere. They both start by pleasing me; it’s moist, hot, and sweet. Once I climax, I want him in my mouth immediately after. He fills me just right and she joins me in finishing him off. He steps away for a quick shower and I take my turn and taste her… (I could get used to this!) I give her finger play and she gives me rave reviews; I never ate pussy before but I was told I did it very well. When he returns, I’m super wet with anticipation. As he enters me, my body is on all cylinders and with each push I’m brought closer to extasy; she compliments his thrusts by using her vibrator and I lose my entire mind. If a stranger was passing by, they would think I was getting murdered. I then sit on her face and he takes her missionary. Once we all meet our peak, we take a quick shower and lay in bed. She invites us to continue enjoying one another, but she is now tired. We go back downstairs and the fun continues. I ride him on the sofa and feverishly rub myself to orgasm. I take him into my mouth again – He Orgasms. He pleases me with his fingers – I Orgasm again. By the time it’s time for me to head to my friend’s house my body is in a limbo state of pained extasy. I’m glossed over, raw, thirsty, ass is spanked red, and I could still go more rounds. But I have to get ready for my flight. I go upstairs to shower again, call an uber, I kiss them both good bye and I text my friend that I am on my way. Oh… TURN UP! 

A fantastic send-off!