TWO MEN WALK INTO A BAR

I made the decision to live my true polyamorous life in January 2019; in February, I met M. He was my first poly partner, the first to eat my ass, and the first man I used a butt-plug with. Almost weekly, we had phenomenal sex, he ate my pussy just right, and he was a freak like me. In May, I met A, my primary partner. Over time, it occurred to me that they had a lot in common. So, in December, I set up a group chat (Two Men Walk into A Bar), and a week later, we all met up.   

I arranged for us to meet at a Mexican restaurant, by my job, and on the walk there, I was extremely nervous. I was confident that they would get along, but I was worried that the male ego might get in the way. However, once we were seated, everything went off without a hitch. Over dinner and a few margaritas, they got to know each other and talked on how much they both enjoyed fucking me. It was, to say the least, a great introduction date.  

After our date, the conversations in our group chat became highly sexual as we tried to plan out the details for our threesome. A few times, they attempted to rush the plan, like the horny men that they are; but I wanted to make sure the event was not rushed. As weeks and months passed, I wondered if our long-awaited threesome would ever happen. Then, a week before New York City went on lockdown, the stars finally aligned.  

We arranged to meet at M’s on a Sunday afternoon. I met A when I got off the train, and we walked together to his apartment. Once there, we sat down and talked over some wine. I could tell that M was nervous, as it was to be his first threesome, but I assured him that he would enjoy himself. After a while, we all went into the bedroom to get things started. We got undressed, and with me sandwiched between them, I started kissing my dates for the evening. M began to lick my nipples, A started to eat my pussy, and I sucked M’s dick. I released a loud scream as I was delivered my first orgasm of the day; afterward, he slipped on a condom to fuck me until he reached his orgasm. As he went to clean up, M changed positions and went down on me, and in no time, he delivered me my second orgasm. Still riding my orgasm, M bent me over and fucked me from behind as I sucked A’s dick. Since attending my first sex club, I had been in quite a few MFM threesomes before. But fucking strangers versus men that I actually had cared for, was a totally different experience; it was totally euphoric.   

An essential role in being the woman in an MFM threesome is to make sure all people involved are paced and having a good time. After round one, A was ready to keep going, while M suggested a moment of rest. Men, enjoying an MFM threesome, often forget that a woman’s body, not only, needs to reset, but is also her possession. My body has to be enjoying every second of the encounter. So, because my arms, clit, and vagina had just put in serious work, despite A’s resistance, I made the decision to rest. We weren’t on a clock; therefore, there was no need to rush. We took a nap, and when we were all ready, we started up again.   

At the start of round two, I wanted it doggy-style, with M lying on the bed and A behind me. He lubed up and proceeded to fuck me in the ass, and with my Womanizer on my clit, like clockwork, I collapsed onto M’s lap as I rode my trembling orgasm. My ass needed a break, so I let my mouth do the work for me. With deep passion, I sucked, licked, and swirled my mouth and tongue back and forth around their dicks, and when I was ready, M positioned himself behind me.  

With my ass in the air and my face buried in A’s lap, M licked and bit at my ass. He slipped one finger in and then another, and knowing what was coming next, I grabbed my Womanizer. As he slid into my booty-hole, my body instantly began to tremble. Each thrust felt like heaven, and, once again, with my Womanizer on my clit, my orgasm began to build. As he picked up his pace, my body started to lose control. When my orgasm finally peaked, each outcry of orgasm was accompanied by a burst of squirt. I had no control over what was coming out of my body, but I kept the Womanizer placed over my clit. And with every breath, I exploded again and again. I could tell he was taken aback and aroused at the same time as he was showered in my juices. Fearing that my screams could be heard up and down the Grand Concourse, I buried my face into the bed and rode out the rest of my orgasm through muffled screams. When my tank was finally empty, I fell onto the bed; and after four orgasms, I was officially done.   

After we showered, we got dressed and took a walk. Walking down the street with my guys, I felt empowered, sexy, and magical. As stated before, MFM threesomes are always amazing; but partaking in one with partners you care for, that care for you in return, was the cherry on my Sunday. 

SIZE DOES MATTER

No, this is not your typical big dicks are the best rant. If you’ve been following my blog since the beginning, you already know that I despise small dicks (aka gherkins, aka little pickles). The other day I was walking while listening to the Whoreible_Decisions podcast, and they had on Jet Setting Jasmine, a public figure who is also the wife of King Noire (public figure, master fetish trainer, and etc.). During the episode they touched on the topic of his dick size, which is huge. They’re have an open marriage, and she mentioned, in a joking way, that she outsources certain sexual acts, and anal was number one. If you’ve ever seen his dick, it’s clear to see why. So, just as some dicks are too small, there are dicks that some women consider too big. So, I came up with this classification that is not based on measurements but based on personal preference. 

First, I’ll start with GAP.  

No, this is not short for gaping pussy and booty holes. GAP stands for Good in All Positions. This dick length and size may feel better in some positions, but, in general, it’s suitable for all. There’s nothing more annoying than riding a dick that keeps slipping out. Sure, sometimes the pussy can be juicy, but more often than not, the dick is just a few inches shy on the ‘You need to be this tall to ride this ride’ ruler. A dick that feels good in missionary, doggy-style, various riding positions, anal, and fills the mouth just right is a GAP dick.   

The second classification is the DSO dick.  

DSO stands for Doggy Style Only: this is the dick that only feels good in doggy-style because it is trash in all other positions. It is trash in missionary, it’s trash when riding it, it’s trash from the side, and it offers no challenge when getting sucked. This dick only feels good in doggy-style; with your ass high up, lots of lube, and your face so far down, it’s under the mattress.  

The first time I encountered a DSO dick, it took me by surprise. It was attached to a chocolate man with a rock-solid body. He was tall and skinny, so I was beyond confident that his dick would be just as long as he was tall. When I pulled his pants down to suck his dick, I wondered where it was; it was short and fat, in the most unflattering way. I did the best job I could at sucking it, hoping that he was a grower and not a shower, but what I saw was what I got. I bent over on all fours hoping that maybe he’d feel better. I felt him push past my opening then nothing else. He was pumping for dear life, and I felt nothing. My back was arched, and my ass was so high in the air that a satellite could’ve looked into my anal cavity. But nothing I did made the sex feel any better. It was him that first debunked the myth that all black guys were packing because his luggage was definitely lost.  

The next classification is NFA, and that stands for Never Fucking my Ass.   

If a dick can be too small, one can also be too big. A dick that I deem to big will never get the chance to fuck my ass. Now, sure the first time I had anal was with a guy with an 8″ dick, and I loved it; but he took his time. He made sure I was very aroused, moist, and then he slowly entered me. Each and every thrust felt lovely, and when we had our fill, he switched back to my pussy. For almost a decade, I refrained from anal, and then slowly, I was able to find partners that I deemed suitable for my ass. Their length isn’t super-long, and their girth isn’t too thick; their dick is just right.  

The final classification is MLBS, and that stands for Must Lick Before the Stick.  

MLBS is the dick that, upon first sight, seems to lack sustenance, and it doesn’t look like it can satisfy. However, after he eats the pussy and makes me cum when he slides into me, it feels like heaven. Some positions may feel better than others, but none of them will feel bad.   

My first time encountering an MLBS was when I returned from Mexico. I started talking to him via OkCupid, while I was still on vacation. He messaged me that he wanted to eat my pussy, and since I was feeling free, I agreed to let him once I got back. I met him, and we went to his place. He ate my pussy on the couch in the living room and delivered me an incredible orgasm. When it was time for me to return the favor, as stated before, I was less than enthused. Looking at his size, I listed the possible positions that would deliver me the most pleasure while fucking, and I concluded doggy-style. But, when he bent me over the couch to fuck me, his dick felt like it had grown 4 inches. After he ate my pussy, my walls were still clenching, the orgasm continued to rush through my body, and I was soaking wet. After the wonders he worked on my clit, his dick felt fan-fucking-tastic. His dick felt so good that I went above and beyond to get it. I would go to his house before my long runs. I fucked him after work. I even took the train to fuck him during my lunch break. He fucked me from the back, he fucked me missionary, I rode him like a cowgirl, and he even fucked me from the side (a position that’s not my favorite), and they all felt amazing. As long as he ate my pussy first, his dick felt magical. The only reason we stopped fucking was me; I felt that I was lowering my standards, and I ended it. But now and then, when I’m on the west side of Manhattan, I think about his mouth and dick, and my pussy starts to get wet. 

The above is the beauty of a MLBS dick. As long as his tongue delivers you to an orgasm, his dick possesses the same capabilities as a GAP dick. So, because I love getting my pussy eaten, MLBS dicks have become my personal favorite. Now, isn’t that better than grading dicks by measurements?

MY MOM FOUND MY PORN-OH NO!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

LIKE A COZY SWEATER

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

DEFINING LOVE

Love is defined as: an intense feeling of deep affection; a great interest and pleasure in something; and the list goes on.  

On some level, we all can identify something or someone that we love. I love my family; although I may not always like them; the love I genuinely feel for them is undeniable.  

Another thing I love are desserts; especially Applebee’s Triple Chocolate Meltdown. Even though, I hate what it does to my waistline and my conscience, I can’t deny that; when that microwaved chocolate cake with chocolate syrup center, drizzled with way too sweet white and dark chocolate, with the scoop of ice cream comes to my table; the outside world does not exist. From the first break of the cake as the chocolate oozes, and I try to repeatedly gather the perfect bite with just enough ice cream, to the final bite; I can undoubtedly say that I am in love; if only for 5 minutes. I can scream from the mountain top, the love I have for something that has probably, single handedly, been the cause of all the new diabetes diagnoses, since its inception. But telling someone I love them… Ugh! Can we just eat cake! 

I grew up with the image of love as one person to another. Sure, I always knew of polyamorous love; I just never saw examples of it working in real life. When I decided to live a polyamorous life, after years of being a serial monogamist, I wasn’t sure what to expect; all I knew was that I loved the feeling of butterflies and I needed that aspect to intensify any connection I would garner. Then I met you.

I felt your love for me early on. Maybe it was how often we spoke; or the fact that you always wanted to be around me. But, from the very beginning, when you first laid eyes on me; and I was in a threesome with two other men; I didn’t have to be anyone but myself. Sure, you didn’t love me that night, but after our first few dates, I was certain you soon would. 

You said (actually texted) the words when I was going through a dark patch with my family. I knew you was going to say it before the message came through; and although it was great to know your true feelings; it did absolutely nothing to make the situation better. It just meant that you were going to be there for me, and that was enough.  

The last time I said I love you was in 2013. In 2012, I met my now ex-boyfriend. We had connected on the dating app Badoo; I was so confident that he was the one, and that there would never be another. So, within a month of us online dating, before we even met in person; he told me he loved me and I told him back. We dated for just over a year before the once strong and undying love I had for him actually died. When I finally ended the relationship; he told me that I never really loved him. Hmm? I was certain that I did, in fact, love him, at some point during our relationship. I looked back at our pictures and they looked like love. I though back to all the times I cried for him, (I cry very easily, so maybe that’s not the best example). When I looked at all that I had done for him during our relationship, I knew that I wouldn’t have done any of it, if I didn’t love him. So, what the fuck was he talking about? How could tell me, the feelings that I had for him were never real? Then, years later, it finally hit me… His love was not my love.  

My love isn’t the jump off a cliff, walk into the fire, sacrifice my life for you love; like his was. My love is practical yet whimsical. My love is stern, but it can also be pliable; it can be loud and it can be quiet, it can be suffocating and it can be distant. However, above all things, my love for another will never be stronger than the love I have for myself. I can love someone with all my might, but if that relationship no longer brings me joy, I have no problems walking away to be on my own.  

So, after him, I reserved the declaration; because if tomorrow comes and I want to go back into my shell; it’s important to know what we shared was real and it was love, even if it didn’t and/or doesn’t last forever.  

I was sitting at a jazz show, listening to the music being played. As the lady on the stage sang about love; it was in that moment I knew I loved you. It struck me as odd because I was at the performance to see one of my other partners perform; but, the thought of you ran through my mind and found a home in my heart. I started to get warm all over, it could’ve been the 3 drinks that I had; but then it happened again. When I was walking down the street talking to myself (as I sometimes do); Boom! There you were again. I tried to apply logic and reason, I picked the way I felt about you apart, I dissected it like a dead frog on a metal table, and it still came back – love.   

I could drive myself mad trying to define and break down what it means to be in love while polyamorous, but I just know I love how I feel now. The love that we share doesn’t have to look like everyone else’s, because we are not like everyone else. I simply want to live and love in this feeling for as long as we’re meant to.