2021, WHEW! IT’S BEEN QUITE A YEAR!

First, I want to apologize to all my readers for not being consistent. I know I ain’t shit, and I must do better. With so many new and positive things to talk about in 2022, I plan to give you non-stop me. Forewarning, the content going forward won’t be as juicy as it once was. Not only has pandemic dating proven to be an extremely unenjoyable pain in my ass; I just don’t care to invest time into the bullshit anymore. A bitch finally got smart and knows when her time is being wasted and she (meaning me) won’t do it anymore. But trust and believe I will find a way to keep you entertained no less.

Now, for 2021, a lot has happened so let me catch you up.

Obviously, we all ushered in the New Year during a pandemic. I was lucky enough to spend it with my family and partner for the second year in a row. I was looking forward to enjoying 2021 with blind optimism, but by March I was unfortunately laid-off. To be honest, I was more pissed that I was laid off in 2021 (you know when the government had stopped giving the extra $600 per unemployment check). If I had been laid off at the beginning of the pandemic, I would’ve racked up. But no; my company kept some of us employed and dropped our salaries by 50%. When I tried to file for partial unemployment, I couldn’t get it because I was – you guessed it – still employed. 

Anyway, I wasn’t without a job for too long. In April the fashion Gods saw fit to shine down on me and bless me with a new company and all my autopay-bill prayers were answered. Have you ever started a job and knew on week one it wasn’t for you? Well, that was me every single week for the first 6 weeks. 

I went in for the interview on Tuesday, was emailed on Saturday morning (while I was away visiting my family), and asked to turn around a project for Monday. Luckily, I had my laptop, so I threw together a project and had it done for Tuesday when I got back to the city. I went in for the interview, was hired on the spot, and was assigned my position in Hades. I could feel the job draining me of my happiness with every project we were asked to do. No longer was one lunch cocktail enough, somedays I needed two! Every week I thought about quitting. And for a solid month, my blood pressure was dangerously high. 

Luckily, I had planned a trip to Jamaica with my friends that was a much-needed break from the shit storm. Jamaica was a fun time in the sun. I very briefly enjoyed a one-night-stand with a local that worked at the hotel (and when I say brief- I mean brief!) At least I checked that off the list. I tried an edible, and after feeling like I was in the sunken place, decided to keep my vices to alcohol and sex. I got amazingly drunk every day, masturbated nightly (and sometimes daily), got burned sitting by the pool, and transformed into a shedding snake by the time I got back to NYC and back to Hell.

Back from vacation, I pushed through the day-to-day, week to week. We worked from home on Fridays, so after our 10 am zoom, if there was no project to work on, I took full advantage and did absolutely nothing. This pattern sufficed for a while then, just as I was beginning to feel overwhelmed again, my friends were planning a trip to Covidtown, USA (Miami, FL). Needing to get out of hell and fly into dodge, I resurrected the dead. 

You see, my biological father passed away in October 2020, when I was with my previous company. I never speak on the living in such a manner, but there’s nothing wrong with stating a fact. I told them my father passed away and that the funeral services were down south (all of which, technically did happen – just not when I said it did).

As luck would have it, I was approved for my apartment a week before I left for Miami. I got my keys on Friday, measured the space, went shopping for paint and ordered my furniture over the weekend, and prepped for my trip the rest of the week.

Miami was amazing and the company I was with made it that much more enjoyable. Drinks, kissing random women at murky-water pool parties, long summer strolls, dinner at the Versace Mansion, oysters on the beach, walking around half-naked, and masturbating daily; Miami was all that I hoped it would be. 

When I finally got back, it was time for me to set up home. Every night, after work, I came home and painted my apartment. Every day while I was at work, my mom sat in my apartment to monitor all the repairs that needed to be done (Boy! There were a lot of repairs). But, teamwork makes the dream work, and with my building maintenance getting very familiar and annoyed with my face things finally came together. I put a significant dent in my credit score furnishing my apartment, but I can honestly say when I wake up in the morning and come home at night, I couldn’t be happier with what I see. 

With everything finally set up, I hosted two separate housewarming parties. I finally made fried chicken wings and macaroni & cheese (Black Card intact!!!) And all the things I couldn’t buy, my guests came all the way through. Two weeks later, I was finally able to host my first ever Friendsgiving, with a handful of my friends passing out on my sofa. And after hosting three separate events, cooking, and cleaning, I’m good for a while (LOL!).

2021 was winding down to be a good year, then alone time took on a whole new meaning and necessity. When they say “don’t will certain things into existence” they fucking mean it. 

I only lied about being sick on Wednesday so I could have off on Thursday to work on a project for an interview on Friday. I took a random covid test on Wednesday (just for shits-n-giggles), that came back negative, so I thought I was in the clear. When I woke up on Thursday feeling a bit off, I didn’t think much of it; but, by Thursday night and Friday morning it was obvious I was sick. I got an at-home test from one of my friends and it was positive for Covid (Just my luck!) Not wanting to fully F-up my holiday plans I decided to wait in the cold for yet another official PCR test and on Monday those results concluded that I did have Covid. 

Thankfully there is a silver lining to the madness. Since I do now live alone, I’m no risk to my family or friends. Door Dash and Amazon have been a saving grace. And with today’s visual options, I have plenty to watch. I did want to indulge in a bit of alone time in my new place, and I guess this is how fate saw fit to finally sit me down. I still hope to bring in the new year with my family and friends. So, I’m wishing for a negative test in time. 

Here’s to 2022… may I have a new job and bring it in Covid Free.

See you all in the new year. 

SEX! IT’S A FUCKING WORKOUT

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I ALWAYS FEEL LIKE SOMEBODY’S WATCHING ME

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

CHECK PLEASE!

I love oysters. For many years, I stayed far away from them, then overnight, I was addicted. I had my first oyster in the summer of 2019, and I went on a mad dash to find the perfect oyster again. I went to several restaurants and shelled out hundreds of dollars to find the taste that took my oyster virginity. For months I was unlucky, then one afternoon I went to a restaurant near my job. I tried their oysters, and it was as if the world I was living went from black and white to colors. Their daily happy hour $1 oysters and their delicious cocktails had me signing a check that was never less than $60.  

In February of 2020, I wanted to do a mini alcohol detox before my first half-marathon. So, for a month, I stayed far away from the restaurant, its cocktails, and its oysters. I simply didn’t trust myself to go in and not buy a drink, so I stayed away. Then, a week before the race, the event was canceled due to coronavirus. I was pissed! I couldn’t believe that I had deprived myself for almost a month for nothing. A few days later, my office closed, and bye-bye went my access to oysters.   

Unable to order oysters to go, I had to suffer until things started to open up. As the city entered phase three, I looked forward to finally getting my oyster fix, but the options were super limited. Then one afternoon, I decided to dine by myself, have the oysters that I so craved, and was also able to fulfill an unchecked fantasy.   

I sat down, ordered a margarita, and a half-dozen oysters. I took a sip of my margarita as I waited for my oysters to arrive. The margarita was cold, perfectly sweet, and strong, just the way a margarita should be. As the tequila made its way down my throat, I felt the gentleman a few tables over, staring at me. When I turned in his direction, he winked at me. I winked back just to be polite, but when my oysters arrived, my vision became tunneled. A squeeze of lemon, a dash of tabasco, and a drizzle of mignonette sauce, and I was in heaven. Each oyster was a spicy orgasm in my mouth, and I devoured them one after the other. When I was done, my lips tingled from the tabasco, and my longing heart was content.  

As I sipped the rest of my drink, I continued to feel his piercing stare. I glanced over at him, and unlike last time, I didn’t break my line of sight, and neither did he. I sipped my drink as he licked his lips. Maybe it was the tequila or the oysters’ aphrodisiac effect, but I started to get wet. As we stared at each other, I could feel his eyes undressing me. They started at my polished toes, up to my legs, over my breasts, and stopped at my mouth, where my tongue twirled my straw.   

I ordered a second margarita and diverted my eyes for a brief moment. When my second drink came, I downed it much faster than the first. I could’ve continued eye-fucking him, but it was getting late, and I wanted to walk back home. I asked the waiter where the restroom was and went to freshen up for my walk home. As I walked past his table, I could feel his eyes scanning my body like lasers; my nipples grew hard.   

When I entered the restroom, I put some cold water on my face to cool off. I washed my hands, and when I opened the door to leave, he was there, blocking my exit. He smelled of burnt sugar and diesel, and it intoxicated me. He pushed his body up against mine, our bodies entered the bathroom, and he locked the door in a swift motion. In the next moment, his lips and tongue were on my neck, and his hands gripped my ass. He rubbed my clit over my thong, and I got soaking wet. He brought his fingers back up to his nose to sniff and whispered in my ear, “delicious.”   

He licked his fingers, dropped to his knees, and pushed up my dress. He buried his face into my pussy and inhaled deeply several times. He nibbled at my flesh through my underwear, then slowly he pulled them down. He slid his moist fingers in my pussy and began to coax an orgasm out of me. When he placed him juicy lips on my clit, I almost fell over; but he pushed his face deeper into my pussy pinning me against the wall. He licked, sucked, and slurped at my clit, the way I slurped those oysters, and finger fucked me into an orgasm. I rode the multiple waves as I held his head in place. After he drank all my newly released juices, he got off his knees, washed his hands, said, “thank you,” and walked out of the restroom.   

When I gained my composure, I walked to the mirror, and the person looking back at me was unfamiliar. My eyes were glassy, and my face was covered with beads of sweat. What did I just do? I continued to use the bathroom, and I washed my face and hands. By the time I returned to my table, the man was gone. I wanted to pay my bill and get the hell out of dodge. My moans were low when I orgasmed, but there was always a chance that they saw him enter the restroom behind me. I awkwardly signaled for the nearest waiter and said, “Check, Please!” He went into the restaurant only to return to tell me, “the gentleman has paid your bill.” And with that, I gathered my things and started my walk home. 

DAMN SEX INJURIES

I love sex. Something I love more than sex is masturbating. I love the time when I can connect with my body and bring myself pleasure. Even if I find myself in a loving relationship with a partner that dicks me down every single night, the honest truth is that, before I go to sleep, I need to orgasm on my own. Sometimes, I would masturbate in the morning; other times, I would masturbate when I got home after work, but the most convenient time for me to masturbate would be in my bed at night.   

For a good couple of years, masturbation was my nightly sleeping pill. After my shower, I would lay down in my bed, grab my phone, and google whatever porn interested me (mostly Gangbang). I would power up my vibrator and ride the wave to reach my orgasm. With heavy panting, leg spasms, and an increased heartbeat, I would silently climax then pass out. That was my nightly routine for years. Then, one day I heard about the Womanizer. I heard about the sucking-pulse mechanism, and that it would deliver an orgasm I’d never experience before, and I simply had to have it. During a visit to Babeland, I finally made my purchase. When I got home, I charged it up; and after my shower, I laid down and placed the opening on my clit. The orgasm I had was more powerful than anything I could have imagined. The power of the Womanizer was so good that I didn’t even need to use porn.  

Over the next few months, I enjoyed many orgasms with my Womanizer. Then, one night, I went for a second round. My clit was already highly sensitive, but I was determined to push my boundaries. Gingerly, I placed the opening back onto my clitoris, I started it on a low setting, then increased it slowly. My breasts rose and fell rapidly to match my breathing, a tingling started at my toes and generated throughout my body; when I finally reached my second orgasm of the night, with a stifled moan, I squirted all over my sheets. I took a moment to regain my composure, got a blow dryer, dried my sheets, and then went back to sleep.   

As much as I loved the comfort of my bed, having to dry my sheets every night became a mood killer. Luckily, the Womanizer was waterproof, so the next night, I took her into the shower. With my back against the wall, the hot water rolling over my breasts, and my left foot propped up on the edge of the tub, I allowed the sucking sensations of my Womanizer to deliver me an orgasm, then another accompanied with a vicious squirt. In my bed, I never wanted to make a mess; however, in the shower, I was able to let it all go. A nightly shower orgasm had become my routine. Multiple times, I came so hard that my stomach cramped. I was masturbating so much, I worried that my clit would fall off, but there was an injury brewing that took me by total surprise.   

I purchased my Womanizer around June, I started masturbating in the shower in September. At the beginning of October, I noticed a shooting pain in my foot when I would wake up in the morning and after long walks. Every morning, I tried to alleviate the tension on my foot by rolling it on a stress-ball and performing a round of foot exercises; but none of them worked. Because I’m a runner, pain is nothing new for me. From random back pains, butt pains, and foot pains, I’ve encountered them all, but eventually, they all subside. However, this new pain, that was isolated in my left foot, that had no apparent reason for being caught me totally off guard. Then, one night, while I was putting lotion on my leg, I had my left foot resting on my desk chair; when I slightly arched my foot, the pain was instantaneous. Like a lightbulb, it became clear to me where my pain was coming from. I remembered that every time I orgasmed in the shower, I would crouch down during my orgasm, putting irregular stress on my arch. I was finally at ease to know where my pain was coming from, but I worried about my future orgasm routine. What would be the best angle to keep my shower orgasm routine going?   

The next night, I went into the shower and tried a new position. Instead of propping my foot up, I turned towards the wall, allowing the water to cascade on my back. I slightly parted my legs, positioned my clit into the opening, and started the Womanizer. At first, it was a weird angle, then I played a fantasy in my mind. I thought back to my first time at a sex-club (Caligula). And I remembered the big shower they had on the upper level. I imagined myself with the shower on, naked, and masturbating while all the other patrons looked on. Being the sexual center of attraction, on full display for all to see and not touch, aroused me to another level. The fantasy drove me to an orgasm that poured out from my body. I finished my shower then went to sleep. 

Every few nights, I rotate positions, from standing to squatting, to sitting on the edge of the tub, to occasionally kneeling. Thankfully, each and every position still delivers me the same fantastic orgasm I had become accustomed to, minus the pain in my foot.