He was one of my college cases. A six foot, 2 inch Mos Def with slanted eyes. Now this one had charisma. He was the front runner and MVP of the basketball team and had a slight cockiness about him that I kinda liked. Like him, I was popular and felt like we should be rockin' with each other because I looked good and he looked good so why not. Everyone was already mad at me (chicks ofcourse) for being the irresistable, sexy beast that I am, so why not make them irate?
Unfortunately the obstacle being his girlfriend was in my way.
This never stopped me from getting what I want...or so I thought.
We were cool and I knew he was attracted to me and I made it obvious to him that I was more than attracted. I wouldn't engage in too much convo with him. All I wanted to say I said with my eyes. We'd walk past each other and say hey, do the chit chat thing and I'd usually just look him in his eyes until he felt the need to look away with a nervous laugh. Sometimes the laugh was a "girl if only u knew" laugh. Shit, I was trying to find out!
I wanted his dick.
I wanted to know how he'd kiss me.
I wanted to press my tits up against him and feel his dick swell until he couldn't take it.
I wanted him to wanna throw me up on a wall and bury his dick in me until I screamed for mercy.
I wanted him to want me.
Unfortunately the girlfriend he had was a big deal for him. I didn't actually GET him until 2 years after we'd graduated and seen him at a game at the school. The attraction was most definitely still there.
After the game I saw him outside and asked:
"Still got that problem?"
*laughter*
"I don't see anything funny."
"What problem?"
*stare*
"Naa no problems here."
"Let me be clear, no girl?"
"Naa."
"About time."
I passed him my digits. He called the same night like I knew he would.
I didn't have time to waste, we had a couple of years catching up to do. Yum.
I had him come over and we stood in my kitchen having drinks. Just so you have a visual, I had on leggings, a tank and some flip flops, smelling faintly of Burberry. He had on dark denim straight cut jeans, some vintage adidas, a vneck sweater, and smelled like Jean Paul Gaultier.
I had a huge kitchen window with no blinds or curtains on it. I lived on a 4th floor walk up and the view of the sky was always gorgeous to me. Besides, I kinda got off on being in my kitchen naked and wondering if anyone could see me.
As my apple martini and his Patron kicked in, our conversation (though very good) started to become minimal. As he leaned against the stove and I opposite him leaning on the wall, we started speaking volumes with our eyes. His eyes had that buzzed I-wanna-fuck-you look and I'm sure mine had the same. I walked over to him and stood on my tip toes, nose to nose, and pressed my body up against his. Like clockwork he wrapped his hands around me lifted my tank to put his cool hands on my skin. I arched back to look him in his eyes and they didn't waver for a second...his pools of honey looked inside me. He licked his lips. I licked mine.
He leaned in and grabbed my bottom lip in between his succulent ones and slowly sucked.
*drip*
I didnt move.
He moved to my upper lip and did the same. I didn't move. He pressed his tongue between my lips and I gave him no resistance as he explored every crevice inside of my mouth with relaxed ease. His tongue was nice and fat and hoped that the dick followed suit. My tongue began to dance with his as I lightly grabbed his with my teeth and sucked. I sucked on his tongue to the beat of Bilal's Queen of Sanity that softly drifted through the house from my bedroom. At that moment I knew I was driving him insane because I felt his engorged cock poking me all in my belly.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pulled him backward down the hallway to the bedroom. I pulled him so that we both fell onto the bed. We began kissing like savages, breathing heavily, our bodies desperately wanting to be free of the bondage that was our clothes. He deftly removed my leggings, bra and tank with one hand. I had soaked through my leggings because I didn't have on any panties.
He took his hand down to the Love Below and when he came into contact with my accessory he pulled back from kissing me to have a look at it. I assumed that my silver barbell was his first. It captivated him.
He looked at me and looked at it and looked at me and then put his lips around it and had a lazy conversation with it. My body squirmed beneath him. I didn't want head. I wanted cock. At some point all his clothes came off and I grabbed a condom frm the nightstand drawer and went to put it on. When I finally came face to face with his dick I had a converstion with it.
"Finally nice to meet u."
*the dick moved up and down slightly as if to say 'same here'*
"You look great."
*the dick swelled a bit more and pointed its head straight at me*
"I like the way u look at me."
*dick stood still*
"Come here gorgeous."
*dick came over*
I wrapped my lips around the head and ran my tongue around it. A couple of shades darker than his face, it was a looker. Not as fat as I'd liked but definitely far from a pencil dick.
Again, I wanted him IN me so there was going to be no head giving right now.
I sucked some precum and licked my lips with it while putting the condom on. I forcefully grabbed the back of his his head down to mine so he can taste himself on my lips. He didn't oblige in the least. I wanted to be dug out so I popped up doggy style on the bed so he could ram it in me. And Ram. He. Did. I loved it and was sure my neighbors did too.
I wanted more. I pushed him back on the bed and hopped on top of him. I propped myself up over him to pulsate on the head of his dick. Up, down, up, down, squeeze up, squeeze down.
After sliding all the way down on it I paused for a second to look him in his eyes. I just wanted to get a before shot because I was about to go postal on that ass. I started fucking him so hard that the bed started to slide across the room. I'm talking queen size bed with a heavy wooden frame. He had a hard time trying to participate but finally caught up.
I was fucking him like he was my bitch.
When he started moaning I screamed shut up. I was releasing years of pent up frustration with him. I screamed at him, "When I want dick u NEVER shut me down!"
He looked scared.
He grabbed my waist with both hands and rammed his cock in me from the bottom.
I wasn't sure what had happened next. I felt like I was on a rocket or some shit. My body started shaking the entire bed and I could not stop screaming. I felt euphoric as I rode him harder and more animalistic. I wasn't just cumming. I was having my very first orgasm. I started seeing rainbows and unicorns and all kinds of shit.
My body would. Not. Stop. Shaking.
After what seemed like an eternity I collapsed on his chest trying my best to catch my breath and slightly embarrassed at what had just happened. All he did was wrap his arms around me back and almost instantly fall asleep.
Since having my very first orgasm, I'd craved it and thought about having another one...several even, all day, every day. I'd have him about three times a week and out of three times, I'd have the orgasm once. Only on top. Only when I was riding the dick. Only when I was going savage on his ass. I didn't always want it like that. I wanted it in slow sessions as well.
Fail.
I decided to do an experiment. He swore up and down he was the shit for having me react to his body the way I did.
Aight bet.
I tried every fucking position I knew and even the ones I didn't know about but I was determined to find out if my theory was true.
I could not catch an orgasm unless I did it.
On top.
Like a beast.
I was giving myself orgasms.
He was just the dick.
Go figure.
It was kind of disappointing because I didn't mind giving him the title Mr. O.
But it's cool, I took the credit.
*curtsies*
Farrah you're the man.
Yea I know. Obviously sometimes I have to be.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Unexpected
Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to present my first guest writer. Enjoy.
The wind was blowing my thin trench coat all about as I climbed the steps to his apartment. I was worried that one gust too many would give this side of Bedford Stuyvesant a clear view of my diamond bowed G-string. Ringing the doorbell, I adjusted the strap on my stiletto heel, said a small prayer for courage, and mentally adjusted my fuck-me face.
A woman answered the door in white terry cloth shorts and a crop top. MY man’s door.
I changed my face and, standing up straight, glanced at the number on the outside wall of the brownstone. “This is 186 Lefferts, right?” She glanced at me for a while, quizzically, then recognition dawned on her face. “You’re T’s girl! I’m Shayne, T’s cousin!” I stared at her. Shayne? I wondered. Who the fuck is Shayne? Then it came to me. T’s cousin Shayne from Arkansas was supposed to be coming into town this weekend to interview for a fellowship with Beth Israel Medical Center. I forgot. Damn.
Shayne ushered me inside. “Come in, come in! It’s so nice to meet you! I’ve heard a lot about you. T talks about you ALL the time. I’m sorry I startled you. I’m only here until tomorrow morning. I was supposed to be staying with a friend, but things didn’t work out and T refused to have me go to a hotel…” Though I was listening, I was still silent. Cousin or no, I needed her to put on something else. It was nowhere near warm enough for what she had on. “Where’s T?” I asked. “Oh!” Shayne’s chest jumped, her country fried accent coming out in her exclamation. I noticed she had on no bra. I frowned. I was tempted to lend her my trench coat so she could cover the hell up. “I’m sorry, I’ve been so busy running off at the mouth that I didn’t even tell you that he’s in his room asleep…he came him from his shift and passed out…I don’t even know if he changed or what he did…I tried calling him but he didn’t…” I cut the rambling off mid sentence. “Thanks, um…” “Shayne. It’s Shayne”, she responded, her broad smile revealing perfect teeth. I nodded. “Thanks. Shayne.”
Thank God. She talks too much.
Shaking my head to clear it, I walked towards the back of T’s apartment, my walk becoming more pronounced, more sensual as I got closer to his room. I could see him, laid out across his bed, the muscles in his calf pronounced, long leg hanging off the side, his toffee colored back defined, the fine sprinkling of chocolate colored freckles on his shoulder blades rising and falling, his breathing slow. He looked almost baby-like in slumber, his lips soft and hung open slightly, the same chocolate speckled inflections gently smattered across the bridge of his nose, playing hide and seek with his almond shaped eyes. I stood there, watching him in slumber for the longest, gently appreciating his beauty, reveling in my love for him.
Then I sniffed the air. I sniffed again.
Something was off.
Quietly sitting down next to T, I leaned in real close to him to kiss him on the cheek and wake him. I needed to see his face more than I never needed to see anything right now. I needed reassurance. It was then that I noticed it.
He had a hickey on his neck. A small one, under his ear, but one nonetheless.
She’s his cousin. Eff out of here.
Just that quickly, my veins turned to ice and my insides churned. To think that he would do something like this seemed unfathomable and yet, not, in a sadistic sort of way. I vowed to not get angry. I vowed not to go ‘mad’ black woman and start throwing things and screaming and carrying on. My emotional switch instantly went from on to off. I was in a completely different place now. As bothered as I was, the sexual being in me was on the rise. Here I stood, in T’s place, nude but for a studded g-string under my trench coat, looking for a kiss, craving his touch, needing to feel him in me.
I was still going to get mine.
Then I was going to dump his no good cheating ass.
Standing up again, I rubbed his head in a front to back motion, cautious not to mess up the wave pattern in his hair that he was so proud of but knowing that the motion would wake him in more ways in one. Bending down, I whispered in his ear,
“Baby. Baby wake up."
He stirred. Yawned. One eye opened. I stepped back and, opening the buttons, slid my trench coat off my shoulders and onto the floor. His other eye opened. I was getting his full attention. Starting to sit up, he said in a gravelly voice, “What…in…the…??” Prepping for the occasion, I had purchased a caramel flavored body oil that glistened on my ebony skin. Breasts perky and standing at attention, stomach relatively flat and my jewel studded satin black g-string accentuating my voluptuous hips and curves, I knew I was a sight to see, a sight that T was not used to seeing, either – an aggressor. In a low, sultry voice, I noted, “The shorty in the other room…she’s not REALLY your cousin, is she.” Now sitting up completely, he toggled between staring at me, hands on hips, fixing him with my best “you’re-going-to-fuck-me” stare, and wrapping his mind around my quietly phrased statement.
“You look…amaz…wait, what?” he stammered as he replayed the question in his mind.
“I said…”, I countered, walking up to him again and, placing one stiletto clad leg next to him on the bed, took his head and brought it to my chest, “Shayne…is not really your cousin, is she?” With his head between my breasts, he muttered an answer to my question while simultaneously beginning to stroke my breasts with his lips and tongue. I put one hand on the back of his neck and pulled his head up so he could look me in my eyes.
“I can’t hear you baby. You were muffled. What did you say?”
Lust in his eyes, he stared at me. A flicker of remorse clouded over his hazel tints, followed by lust again. I watched him, my hands on his neck, fingers gently stroking the spot on its right side. T opened his mouth to say something, instead moaning as I leaned in and gently licked where my fingers stroked. I whispered in his ear, “Let’s play a game instead. I’m going to give you what you always asked for.” Moving my foot from next to him, I took his hand and pulled him to his feet. I turned towards the doorway.
Shayne stood, frozen in the door jamb, her nipples standing at attention, her chest heaving, the same odd combination of remorse and lust in her eyes. I sized her up – slender frame, breasts enough for a palm full, her heritage showing in her ample hips and generous backside, even from looking at her in the front. Releasing T’s hand and quietly summoning the liquid courage I had earlier, I walked up to her and whispered, “If you wanted to know what I taste like, all you had to do was ask”.
Then I leaned in and licked her bottom lip before pulling it between mine and kissing her.
It wasn’t what I expected. Shayne’s lips were warm where I thought they’d be cool, sweet where I was expecting perhaps sour, enticing where I expected repulsion. You could hear the veritable pause in the room – the shift in the tension from potential disaster to Pandora’s playground. I kissed her again, this time her upper lip, my tongue parting her still surprised mouth and playing the devil’s sonata. My hands ran up her sides. It all came surprisingly natural, and she responded in kind so quickly that I almost understood T’s attraction to her. She was easy.
Easy and pliant and willing.
I didn’t even care that this was wrong anymore. This was about to be another page in my sex diary.
Breaking off from her, I turned to look at T. His eyes narrowed, the lust evident in his hanging weight, hard and leaning to the left, jumping at the opportunity in front of it literally. I looked him in his eyes again.
“Is this what you wanted?”
He paused, then nodded slowly, hungry for me but unsure of what was about to happen next. I looked at him, eyebrows raised. Taking Shayne’s hand from behind me, I gently pulled her into the room and towards the bed. Sitting her down, I looked back at T and slowly took my g-string off, dropping it to the floor and standing askance, still in front of Shayne, my clit throbbing and threatening to peek out from behind my folds. Control was a powerful aphrodisiac. My words were simple.
“Taste me”.
T turned to me and went to kiss me, but I turned back to Shayne and kissed her instead, a full out tongue kiss, our bodies now pressed close, my nipples rubbing her nipples through the thin cloth of her crop top. T let his abandoned kiss trail down the middle of my back as I moved to kiss Shayne’s neck, my mouth and tongue beginning to create a mini fire as Shayne squirmed under me. T’s roving mouth kissed my waist. Then my ass. He moved closer, closer to where I was so wet, a slow waterfall threatening to drown my clit. He licked me and I jumped slightly, the pleasure so carnal, yet so familiar. I decided to do the same, letting my kisses trail down, past Shayne’s orange sized breasts, past her belly button. Slowly removing her shorts with my teeth, I used my hands to push her further onto the bed so that T would still be able to lick me. And lick he did, his tongue writing a new erotic story on my jewel as I found Shayne’s clit. I looked at her for a second. She had her finger in her mouth, her eyes telling me that she was far gone.
“Does he do this to you?”
She froze, fear slowly overtaking the desire in her eyes. I blew on her clit. She moaned.
“Does he? Answer me.”
I blew on her again as T continued to lick me from behind. Moaning a little, I bent down to her triangle and kissed it once. Twice. The fear dissipated as she gasped, my mouth grabbing her clit and sucking gently, then licking around her folds before going back for her clit again. She was so wet it should have been a crime.
This should have been a crime.
But I was too far gone.
As I licked her mad, I felt the tip of T’s dick replace his tongue, and before I could wonder when he put the condom on, he eased his way inside me, filled me like he was still mine and I his. Shayne’s body bucked as she became to come. Before she could, I worked my way up and kissed her again as T’s strokes came stronger and harder, his girth pushing my walls to the max. Shayne swallowed the taste of her and my cries as he pushed harder and deeper, his low growl mixing with my muffled cries and Shayne’s soft moans. She reached up to stroke my nipples, realizing that I was on the verge of coming, and coming hard. I kissed her hard, T’s strokes pushing my body closer to hers, my cries swallowed by her moans. I heard T cry out as I felt my body start to shake and the orgasm took over me. He pounded me, coming as I came.
The silence that ensued was deafening.
Finally entangling myself, I stretched and yawned. Looking over at the dresser, I saw T’s truck keys splayed on the vanity. Looking at him, I realized that he was looking at me expectantly. “Are those the truck keys?” I asked. “Yea…” he replied, glancing at Shayne before turning back to me. Bending down to get my coat, I shrugged it back on and, tying the knot securely, looked at him and Shayne, searching for something to say. There was nothing. I grabbed the keys from the vanity and said, “It’s been real, kids.”
Then I left.
Kay.Michele
The wind was blowing my thin trench coat all about as I climbed the steps to his apartment. I was worried that one gust too many would give this side of Bedford Stuyvesant a clear view of my diamond bowed G-string. Ringing the doorbell, I adjusted the strap on my stiletto heel, said a small prayer for courage, and mentally adjusted my fuck-me face.
A woman answered the door in white terry cloth shorts and a crop top. MY man’s door.
I changed my face and, standing up straight, glanced at the number on the outside wall of the brownstone. “This is 186 Lefferts, right?” She glanced at me for a while, quizzically, then recognition dawned on her face. “You’re T’s girl! I’m Shayne, T’s cousin!” I stared at her. Shayne? I wondered. Who the fuck is Shayne? Then it came to me. T’s cousin Shayne from Arkansas was supposed to be coming into town this weekend to interview for a fellowship with Beth Israel Medical Center. I forgot. Damn.
Shayne ushered me inside. “Come in, come in! It’s so nice to meet you! I’ve heard a lot about you. T talks about you ALL the time. I’m sorry I startled you. I’m only here until tomorrow morning. I was supposed to be staying with a friend, but things didn’t work out and T refused to have me go to a hotel…” Though I was listening, I was still silent. Cousin or no, I needed her to put on something else. It was nowhere near warm enough for what she had on. “Where’s T?” I asked. “Oh!” Shayne’s chest jumped, her country fried accent coming out in her exclamation. I noticed she had on no bra. I frowned. I was tempted to lend her my trench coat so she could cover the hell up. “I’m sorry, I’ve been so busy running off at the mouth that I didn’t even tell you that he’s in his room asleep…he came him from his shift and passed out…I don’t even know if he changed or what he did…I tried calling him but he didn’t…” I cut the rambling off mid sentence. “Thanks, um…” “Shayne. It’s Shayne”, she responded, her broad smile revealing perfect teeth. I nodded. “Thanks. Shayne.”
Thank God. She talks too much.
Shaking my head to clear it, I walked towards the back of T’s apartment, my walk becoming more pronounced, more sensual as I got closer to his room. I could see him, laid out across his bed, the muscles in his calf pronounced, long leg hanging off the side, his toffee colored back defined, the fine sprinkling of chocolate colored freckles on his shoulder blades rising and falling, his breathing slow. He looked almost baby-like in slumber, his lips soft and hung open slightly, the same chocolate speckled inflections gently smattered across the bridge of his nose, playing hide and seek with his almond shaped eyes. I stood there, watching him in slumber for the longest, gently appreciating his beauty, reveling in my love for him.
Then I sniffed the air. I sniffed again.
Something was off.
Quietly sitting down next to T, I leaned in real close to him to kiss him on the cheek and wake him. I needed to see his face more than I never needed to see anything right now. I needed reassurance. It was then that I noticed it.
He had a hickey on his neck. A small one, under his ear, but one nonetheless.
She’s his cousin. Eff out of here.
Just that quickly, my veins turned to ice and my insides churned. To think that he would do something like this seemed unfathomable and yet, not, in a sadistic sort of way. I vowed to not get angry. I vowed not to go ‘mad’ black woman and start throwing things and screaming and carrying on. My emotional switch instantly went from on to off. I was in a completely different place now. As bothered as I was, the sexual being in me was on the rise. Here I stood, in T’s place, nude but for a studded g-string under my trench coat, looking for a kiss, craving his touch, needing to feel him in me.
I was still going to get mine.
Then I was going to dump his no good cheating ass.
Standing up again, I rubbed his head in a front to back motion, cautious not to mess up the wave pattern in his hair that he was so proud of but knowing that the motion would wake him in more ways in one. Bending down, I whispered in his ear,
“Baby. Baby wake up."
He stirred. Yawned. One eye opened. I stepped back and, opening the buttons, slid my trench coat off my shoulders and onto the floor. His other eye opened. I was getting his full attention. Starting to sit up, he said in a gravelly voice, “What…in…the…??” Prepping for the occasion, I had purchased a caramel flavored body oil that glistened on my ebony skin. Breasts perky and standing at attention, stomach relatively flat and my jewel studded satin black g-string accentuating my voluptuous hips and curves, I knew I was a sight to see, a sight that T was not used to seeing, either – an aggressor. In a low, sultry voice, I noted, “The shorty in the other room…she’s not REALLY your cousin, is she.” Now sitting up completely, he toggled between staring at me, hands on hips, fixing him with my best “you’re-going-to-fuck-me” stare, and wrapping his mind around my quietly phrased statement.
“You look…amaz…wait, what?” he stammered as he replayed the question in his mind.
“I said…”, I countered, walking up to him again and, placing one stiletto clad leg next to him on the bed, took his head and brought it to my chest, “Shayne…is not really your cousin, is she?” With his head between my breasts, he muttered an answer to my question while simultaneously beginning to stroke my breasts with his lips and tongue. I put one hand on the back of his neck and pulled his head up so he could look me in my eyes.
“I can’t hear you baby. You were muffled. What did you say?”
Lust in his eyes, he stared at me. A flicker of remorse clouded over his hazel tints, followed by lust again. I watched him, my hands on his neck, fingers gently stroking the spot on its right side. T opened his mouth to say something, instead moaning as I leaned in and gently licked where my fingers stroked. I whispered in his ear, “Let’s play a game instead. I’m going to give you what you always asked for.” Moving my foot from next to him, I took his hand and pulled him to his feet. I turned towards the doorway.
Shayne stood, frozen in the door jamb, her nipples standing at attention, her chest heaving, the same odd combination of remorse and lust in her eyes. I sized her up – slender frame, breasts enough for a palm full, her heritage showing in her ample hips and generous backside, even from looking at her in the front. Releasing T’s hand and quietly summoning the liquid courage I had earlier, I walked up to her and whispered, “If you wanted to know what I taste like, all you had to do was ask”.
Then I leaned in and licked her bottom lip before pulling it between mine and kissing her.
It wasn’t what I expected. Shayne’s lips were warm where I thought they’d be cool, sweet where I was expecting perhaps sour, enticing where I expected repulsion. You could hear the veritable pause in the room – the shift in the tension from potential disaster to Pandora’s playground. I kissed her again, this time her upper lip, my tongue parting her still surprised mouth and playing the devil’s sonata. My hands ran up her sides. It all came surprisingly natural, and she responded in kind so quickly that I almost understood T’s attraction to her. She was easy.
Easy and pliant and willing.
I didn’t even care that this was wrong anymore. This was about to be another page in my sex diary.
Breaking off from her, I turned to look at T. His eyes narrowed, the lust evident in his hanging weight, hard and leaning to the left, jumping at the opportunity in front of it literally. I looked him in his eyes again.
“Is this what you wanted?”
He paused, then nodded slowly, hungry for me but unsure of what was about to happen next. I looked at him, eyebrows raised. Taking Shayne’s hand from behind me, I gently pulled her into the room and towards the bed. Sitting her down, I looked back at T and slowly took my g-string off, dropping it to the floor and standing askance, still in front of Shayne, my clit throbbing and threatening to peek out from behind my folds. Control was a powerful aphrodisiac. My words were simple.
“Taste me”.
T turned to me and went to kiss me, but I turned back to Shayne and kissed her instead, a full out tongue kiss, our bodies now pressed close, my nipples rubbing her nipples through the thin cloth of her crop top. T let his abandoned kiss trail down the middle of my back as I moved to kiss Shayne’s neck, my mouth and tongue beginning to create a mini fire as Shayne squirmed under me. T’s roving mouth kissed my waist. Then my ass. He moved closer, closer to where I was so wet, a slow waterfall threatening to drown my clit. He licked me and I jumped slightly, the pleasure so carnal, yet so familiar. I decided to do the same, letting my kisses trail down, past Shayne’s orange sized breasts, past her belly button. Slowly removing her shorts with my teeth, I used my hands to push her further onto the bed so that T would still be able to lick me. And lick he did, his tongue writing a new erotic story on my jewel as I found Shayne’s clit. I looked at her for a second. She had her finger in her mouth, her eyes telling me that she was far gone.
“Does he do this to you?”
She froze, fear slowly overtaking the desire in her eyes. I blew on her clit. She moaned.
“Does he? Answer me.”
I blew on her again as T continued to lick me from behind. Moaning a little, I bent down to her triangle and kissed it once. Twice. The fear dissipated as she gasped, my mouth grabbing her clit and sucking gently, then licking around her folds before going back for her clit again. She was so wet it should have been a crime.
This should have been a crime.
But I was too far gone.
As I licked her mad, I felt the tip of T’s dick replace his tongue, and before I could wonder when he put the condom on, he eased his way inside me, filled me like he was still mine and I his. Shayne’s body bucked as she became to come. Before she could, I worked my way up and kissed her again as T’s strokes came stronger and harder, his girth pushing my walls to the max. Shayne swallowed the taste of her and my cries as he pushed harder and deeper, his low growl mixing with my muffled cries and Shayne’s soft moans. She reached up to stroke my nipples, realizing that I was on the verge of coming, and coming hard. I kissed her hard, T’s strokes pushing my body closer to hers, my cries swallowed by her moans. I heard T cry out as I felt my body start to shake and the orgasm took over me. He pounded me, coming as I came.
The silence that ensued was deafening.
Finally entangling myself, I stretched and yawned. Looking over at the dresser, I saw T’s truck keys splayed on the vanity. Looking at him, I realized that he was looking at me expectantly. “Are those the truck keys?” I asked. “Yea…” he replied, glancing at Shayne before turning back to me. Bending down to get my coat, I shrugged it back on and, tying the knot securely, looked at him and Shayne, searching for something to say. There was nothing. I grabbed the keys from the vanity and said, “It’s been real, kids.”
Then I left.
Kay.Michele
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Mr. Rabbit
He was the sexiest 17 year old I knew. What the hell did he know about cuff links? Yes, yes, another youngin’. Atleast he was CLOSER to legal! This was a young man who was a jokester but had a more serious side to him than many younger men. I met him at a job I was consulting at in midtown. He’d worked in the mailroom and would always stare at me when he walked by my office and one day I told him that it was ok to say hello. He smiled and said “Hello”. He started coming by my office and chatted about everything and nothing. He flirted nonstop as did I. We exchanged numbers.
He was shorter than I’d normally like, around 5’7 and a light weight…150 pounds if that, but like I said before…the common denominator was swag here. His skin was the color of toffee and eyes the color of chai. He was another one with almondy shaped eyes and a sprinkling of freckles across his nose.
There are two things that I am a sucker for:
Freckles.
Dimples.
And yes…you can say sucker literally. Ha.
He was a small framed dude which was fine because I was going to give him a run for his money. Or so I thought.
He called me one night as soon as I’d walked in the door at home. He wanted to know if I was up for company. Why not? I was always up for some young cock. He said his mother was letting him use the car.
*stare*
What the FUCK was I doing with this mere child? And KNOWING how old he was???
And wait…didn’t he need to have someone in the car with him while driving???
Fuck it. I’ll bite the bullet. It had better be worth it.
When he arrived, he seemed MUCH shorter than what he did at work.
“Jesus Christ” I muttered. My sex drive was slowly diminishing.
I took his jacket and offered him something to drink. He took a Sprite and I made an apple martini. Yep, I sure do keep a selection in the kitchen. I knew I was going to need a drink for this and wished I’d taken a shot instead. He took his Sprite into the bedroom and I decided to just add the extra shot to my martini. His laughter floated through the air as I wondered what in the world he was laughing about. I went into the bedroom and saw Scooby-Doo running across my tv screen.
This muthafucka had on THE CARTOON NETWORK.
*stare*
REALLY DUDE??
I took a swig of that martini that actually turned out to be half the glass.
I picked up my Berry and sent out some texts to see who I would have later that night because I just KNEW this was going to be a fucking disaster.
I noticed he kept giving me his version of the ‘look’. I figured it was time to get in teacher mode. He stood up and took his shirt off in front of me. He had a nice body for a little boy. He took his pants off and I went to the kitchen to get another drink. When I came back he was laid across the bed in what it seemed was an attempt at his sexy-lay-across-the-bed-come-hither look. He was naked.
I took another swig.
I climbed on top of him to survey the goods.
He was hard and ready to go. I was looking at around 6.75 inches.
I lazily ran my tongue from his belly button up to his left nipple and started nibbling on it.
“Hey! What are you doing?! That tickles!!!”
*blinkblink*
WHAT THE FUCK?
The minimal drippage I had – the two slivers of wetness that hadn’t even fully dripped OUT of the pussy had defied gravity, reversed, and sprinted in the other direction. I went dry that quick.
Fuck this. I had to put my buzz to use and figured ok…I can get it back if he’s a good kisser. I went up to kiss him. I inched my face up to his, lips parted, eyes starting to close and I don’t know what the fuck happened but his mouth just…CLAMPED down on mine. I was in complete shock and could not understand what was happening.
He had no clue how to kiss.
I immediately thought of Charlotte from the Sex & The City episode where her date was ending in front of her building and when she went in for the kiss, dude kissed and licked all around her mouth and all over her face! I was having an official “He Raped My Face” moment.
My upper lip area was wet. The sides of my mouth were wet. The tip of my nose was wet. He had no CLUE as to what the FUCK he was doing! He was kissing me so hard that I felt like my top lip was going to be cut by my own teeth on the inside! I even tried to catch his insane rhythm…FAIL! He was going so fast flicking his tongue in and out of my mouth like a bipolar lizard. I didn’t know what to do besides fight the urge to scream out in laughter and disgust. He pulled the condom from under my pillow.
Really? Did you really put it there while I was in the kitchen? Come on.
I wasn’t even horny. I had to reach down and massage my own clit in the hopes that I could get the engine going. It worked. Praise God.
He tried to flip me over. I suppose he was trying to showcase the strength that he thought he had. Since I consider myself a decent actor, I faked my body being flung across the bed just so he could feel good. I regretted this entire ordeal and just wanted it to be over.
He reached down and attempted to enter my bored pussy.
Attempt number one. Fail.
Attempt number two. Fail.
I swore I would get up and get dressed if he didn’t get it in on the third try.
He did.
From the time he got it in you would have thought that someone shot off a gun for the race of his life. He started bucking so hard and fast that I had to cover my mouth with my hand to keep from laughing out loud. I tried to keep up but I felt so ill-prepared without my Nike Shox. I layed there and let him do his thing. Apparently he REALLY thought he was doing something because he started to talk shit. No - that’s no typo.
HE STARTED TO TALK SHIT.
“Who’s your Daddy?”
WHAT THE FUCK DID HE JUST SAY??
This muthafucka was still wet behind the ears talking about WHO’S YOUR DADDY? I acted as if I didn’t hear him. He was still pumping away for dear life. It had to be the absolute longest three minutes of my life. He came and collapsed on top of me. I looked at him with such disgust in my eyes and rolled his ass off of me.
“What time do you have to be home?”
He looked at his watch and said “I have a little time.” He laid back on the bed and had this smug look on his face as if he was the fucking man.
"Oh is that right? Well I don’t. You gotta go."
"So how was it?”
*blinkblink*
I laughed freely and very loudly. You know, like one of those huge, hearty laughs that come from the very bottom of your belly.
“Oh you can’t tell from the look on my face? I’m glad your girlfriend wants to remain a virgin.”
He’d looked confused and asked what that meant as he started to get dressed.
“It’s time for me to get in the shower, I’m worn the hell out from all that running, we’ll chat later”
I ushered him out of my door.
I leaned up against the closed door and vowed to NEVER do another youngin' or never do someone that I currently work with. Again.
The next day at work, I kept my office door closed all day and everyday thereafter. The few times he did see me, he tried to engage me in conversation but I’d brush him off and tell him I was super busy. He actually had to leave the company due to family issues I’d heard. He called a few times after that but I never returned the calls. He got the hint.
Maybe I should go 25 and up now?
He was shorter than I’d normally like, around 5’7 and a light weight…150 pounds if that, but like I said before…the common denominator was swag here. His skin was the color of toffee and eyes the color of chai. He was another one with almondy shaped eyes and a sprinkling of freckles across his nose.
There are two things that I am a sucker for:
Freckles.
Dimples.
And yes…you can say sucker literally. Ha.
He was a small framed dude which was fine because I was going to give him a run for his money. Or so I thought.
He called me one night as soon as I’d walked in the door at home. He wanted to know if I was up for company. Why not? I was always up for some young cock. He said his mother was letting him use the car.
*stare*
What the FUCK was I doing with this mere child? And KNOWING how old he was???
And wait…didn’t he need to have someone in the car with him while driving???
Fuck it. I’ll bite the bullet. It had better be worth it.
When he arrived, he seemed MUCH shorter than what he did at work.
“Jesus Christ” I muttered. My sex drive was slowly diminishing.
I took his jacket and offered him something to drink. He took a Sprite and I made an apple martini. Yep, I sure do keep a selection in the kitchen. I knew I was going to need a drink for this and wished I’d taken a shot instead. He took his Sprite into the bedroom and I decided to just add the extra shot to my martini. His laughter floated through the air as I wondered what in the world he was laughing about. I went into the bedroom and saw Scooby-Doo running across my tv screen.
This muthafucka had on THE CARTOON NETWORK.
*stare*
REALLY DUDE??
I took a swig of that martini that actually turned out to be half the glass.
I picked up my Berry and sent out some texts to see who I would have later that night because I just KNEW this was going to be a fucking disaster.
I noticed he kept giving me his version of the ‘look’. I figured it was time to get in teacher mode. He stood up and took his shirt off in front of me. He had a nice body for a little boy. He took his pants off and I went to the kitchen to get another drink. When I came back he was laid across the bed in what it seemed was an attempt at his sexy-lay-across-the-bed-come-hither look. He was naked.
I took another swig.
I climbed on top of him to survey the goods.
He was hard and ready to go. I was looking at around 6.75 inches.
I lazily ran my tongue from his belly button up to his left nipple and started nibbling on it.
“Hey! What are you doing?! That tickles!!!”
*blinkblink*
WHAT THE FUCK?
The minimal drippage I had – the two slivers of wetness that hadn’t even fully dripped OUT of the pussy had defied gravity, reversed, and sprinted in the other direction. I went dry that quick.
Fuck this. I had to put my buzz to use and figured ok…I can get it back if he’s a good kisser. I went up to kiss him. I inched my face up to his, lips parted, eyes starting to close and I don’t know what the fuck happened but his mouth just…CLAMPED down on mine. I was in complete shock and could not understand what was happening.
He had no clue how to kiss.
I immediately thought of Charlotte from the Sex & The City episode where her date was ending in front of her building and when she went in for the kiss, dude kissed and licked all around her mouth and all over her face! I was having an official “He Raped My Face” moment.
My upper lip area was wet. The sides of my mouth were wet. The tip of my nose was wet. He had no CLUE as to what the FUCK he was doing! He was kissing me so hard that I felt like my top lip was going to be cut by my own teeth on the inside! I even tried to catch his insane rhythm…FAIL! He was going so fast flicking his tongue in and out of my mouth like a bipolar lizard. I didn’t know what to do besides fight the urge to scream out in laughter and disgust. He pulled the condom from under my pillow.
Really? Did you really put it there while I was in the kitchen? Come on.
I wasn’t even horny. I had to reach down and massage my own clit in the hopes that I could get the engine going. It worked. Praise God.
He tried to flip me over. I suppose he was trying to showcase the strength that he thought he had. Since I consider myself a decent actor, I faked my body being flung across the bed just so he could feel good. I regretted this entire ordeal and just wanted it to be over.
He reached down and attempted to enter my bored pussy.
Attempt number one. Fail.
Attempt number two. Fail.
I swore I would get up and get dressed if he didn’t get it in on the third try.
He did.
From the time he got it in you would have thought that someone shot off a gun for the race of his life. He started bucking so hard and fast that I had to cover my mouth with my hand to keep from laughing out loud. I tried to keep up but I felt so ill-prepared without my Nike Shox. I layed there and let him do his thing. Apparently he REALLY thought he was doing something because he started to talk shit. No - that’s no typo.
HE STARTED TO TALK SHIT.
“Who’s your Daddy?”
WHAT THE FUCK DID HE JUST SAY??
This muthafucka was still wet behind the ears talking about WHO’S YOUR DADDY? I acted as if I didn’t hear him. He was still pumping away for dear life. It had to be the absolute longest three minutes of my life. He came and collapsed on top of me. I looked at him with such disgust in my eyes and rolled his ass off of me.
“What time do you have to be home?”
He looked at his watch and said “I have a little time.” He laid back on the bed and had this smug look on his face as if he was the fucking man.
"Oh is that right? Well I don’t. You gotta go."
"So how was it?”
*blinkblink*
I laughed freely and very loudly. You know, like one of those huge, hearty laughs that come from the very bottom of your belly.
“Oh you can’t tell from the look on my face? I’m glad your girlfriend wants to remain a virgin.”
He’d looked confused and asked what that meant as he started to get dressed.
“It’s time for me to get in the shower, I’m worn the hell out from all that running, we’ll chat later”
I ushered him out of my door.
I leaned up against the closed door and vowed to NEVER do another youngin' or never do someone that I currently work with. Again.
The next day at work, I kept my office door closed all day and everyday thereafter. The few times he did see me, he tried to engage me in conversation but I’d brush him off and tell him I was super busy. He actually had to leave the company due to family issues I’d heard. He called a few times after that but I never returned the calls. He got the hint.
Maybe I should go 25 and up now?
The Floor Can Be Yours...
It has been brought to my attention that some of yall out there...guys and girls alike...may have a "Box" story to share. If you are interested in putting your story out there for the world to see then by all means, shoot me an email with your story and if I think it's a good fit for everyone here at the Box Chronicles... then the floor is yours.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Cloudy Vision
This is a short break from my regularly scheduled fuck posts.
I think I am a sex addict but not really. They say men think about sex every 7 seconds (bing or google it) and I think I’m in that group. I think about sex a lot. Not necessarily with certain people but just the act itself. I swear I am the horniest person I know and it’s bad because I notice that it’s starting to fuck with my focus. There are a bunch of things that I also need to have a LOT of my attention on, like real life shit and me thinking about cock always seems to get in the way of it. The past two weeks I’ve been feigned out of my fucking mind. I feel like I can’t seem to get any and I can’t understand why.
I’m lying.
I know why.
It’s because I’m picky. Even though we (men & women) can go through our iPhones or Berries and scroll to the dick or box on call, sometimes we just want a certain person. Maybe we just want that one who does it ALL right. They kiss you right, make you feel like you aren’t even here on Earth, fuck and suck you right, take their time with you, get crazy buckwild with you, love you down right, massage you right, spoon you right and even hold you right. Maybe we all have one of those. I know I do. I’ll never tell him that though because I know I can’t. It would go against the rules. If you know that you two only see each other when you fuck then you can’t catch any kinda feelings. Even though we know that sometimes it’s hard as hell to deny them. Especially when you know for a fact that you aren’t the only one he’s fucking. Or is that just me? Because I actually do like him. UGH. What fuckery.
Enter the thoughts of TD&B. Tongue, Dick, & Balls.
You have to look at them like that. In this case I do. This one is one of the best cases I’ve ever had. Yea, I’m going to start referring to them as cases. I probably won’t post about him because my feelings are weirdly caught up in him, but I digress.
I always equated sex with love. I always thought that that could be some of the best sex you could have. When IN LOVE. Reality was harsh to me and when I did think that, I got dumped, which has forced me to be kind of empty when dealing with the opposite sex now. What’s interesting is that I’ve ALWAYS been very sexual. Always liked to have and had a lot of sex. I felt like I needed it.
I craved it.
I crave it.
I feel like it’s the only place I can be in control and not have to really speak about anything because as soon as you open your mouth most times you’re judged anyway. So judge me on my performance. Judge me on how I ride your dick or judge me how I can deep throat your shit. Judge me on how I can be sensual and still be nasty. I’d much rather you judge me there because I’ve never had problems in those areas.
Sex is empowering to me.
I’m scared to death for a dude to start talking about feelings and shit. How they really like me and all this foolery. C’mon really? What’s it been two weeks? Everytime I brought in up in past relationships I got shitted on or shown the door so why even bother?
In these random posts you will probably think I am this truly emotionally fucked up individual or that I may have the dryest and most sarcastic sense of humor ever. Whatever you find...I will most definitely be...me.
Fact of the matter is…I feel like…
I Have To Have It.
I’ve been referred to as Nola Darling from the Spike Lee joint “She’s Gotta Have It.”
If that isn’t me, I don’t know who is.
I think I am a sex addict but not really. They say men think about sex every 7 seconds (bing or google it) and I think I’m in that group. I think about sex a lot. Not necessarily with certain people but just the act itself. I swear I am the horniest person I know and it’s bad because I notice that it’s starting to fuck with my focus. There are a bunch of things that I also need to have a LOT of my attention on, like real life shit and me thinking about cock always seems to get in the way of it. The past two weeks I’ve been feigned out of my fucking mind. I feel like I can’t seem to get any and I can’t understand why.
I’m lying.
I know why.
It’s because I’m picky. Even though we (men & women) can go through our iPhones or Berries and scroll to the dick or box on call, sometimes we just want a certain person. Maybe we just want that one who does it ALL right. They kiss you right, make you feel like you aren’t even here on Earth, fuck and suck you right, take their time with you, get crazy buckwild with you, love you down right, massage you right, spoon you right and even hold you right. Maybe we all have one of those. I know I do. I’ll never tell him that though because I know I can’t. It would go against the rules. If you know that you two only see each other when you fuck then you can’t catch any kinda feelings. Even though we know that sometimes it’s hard as hell to deny them. Especially when you know for a fact that you aren’t the only one he’s fucking. Or is that just me? Because I actually do like him. UGH. What fuckery.
Enter the thoughts of TD&B. Tongue, Dick, & Balls.
You have to look at them like that. In this case I do. This one is one of the best cases I’ve ever had. Yea, I’m going to start referring to them as cases. I probably won’t post about him because my feelings are weirdly caught up in him, but I digress.
I always equated sex with love. I always thought that that could be some of the best sex you could have. When IN LOVE. Reality was harsh to me and when I did think that, I got dumped, which has forced me to be kind of empty when dealing with the opposite sex now. What’s interesting is that I’ve ALWAYS been very sexual. Always liked to have and had a lot of sex. I felt like I needed it.
I craved it.
I crave it.
I feel like it’s the only place I can be in control and not have to really speak about anything because as soon as you open your mouth most times you’re judged anyway. So judge me on my performance. Judge me on how I ride your dick or judge me how I can deep throat your shit. Judge me on how I can be sensual and still be nasty. I’d much rather you judge me there because I’ve never had problems in those areas.
Sex is empowering to me.
I’m scared to death for a dude to start talking about feelings and shit. How they really like me and all this foolery. C’mon really? What’s it been two weeks? Everytime I brought in up in past relationships I got shitted on or shown the door so why even bother?
In these random posts you will probably think I am this truly emotionally fucked up individual or that I may have the dryest and most sarcastic sense of humor ever. Whatever you find...I will most definitely be...me.
Fact of the matter is…I feel like…
I Have To Have It.
I’ve been referred to as Nola Darling from the Spike Lee joint “She’s Gotta Have It.”
If that isn’t me, I don’t know who is.
Mr. Ashy
I was sitting on the train heading to Chelsea one morning during rush hour. The horror. I had my ipod on because I can’t stand to hear fuckery early in the morning. I had my eyes closed and I opened my eyes to figure out who the HELL put the entire bottle of cologne on. I mean REALLY?
Anyway, I looked around and spotted the culprit and made sure that I made eye contact and shook my head at him to let this fool know that he was not GOOD.
Anyhoo - I must’ve missed this one walk on when my eyes were closed. He was sitting at 10:00 to my 6:00. His eyes were closed and his long, straight hair was brushed back into a ponytail. The ponytail came around and rested on the front of his right shoulder. He was shaped up to perfection with a thin goatee. He was Puerto Rican and though I vowed to not to fuck with another psycho ass Puerto Rican, I had to have him. His skin was the color of cashews with a strong jawline, a wide mouth and nice lips. Though he was seated he appeared to be tall…maybe around 6’1 and approximately 185 pounds. He looked thick. Yum.
I stared at him until he finally opened his eyes realizing that I was burning a hole into his face. I needed to see his eyes just in case he didn’t have a crazy eye that would change my mind immediately.
He didn’t. He looked right at me and held my gaze. Unfortunately I was the first to look away because it was that intense and I was pissed off because I never back down dammit. I was getting off in two stops so I knew what I would do. I looked into my bag, found my wallet and pulled out one of my cards that had my picture as well as all contact info on it. There were a few people that I would have to maneuver around to get to him AND get to the door before the train doors would close. But I’m too smooth. It wouldn't be a problem. As soon as the train pulled into the station, I managed to get up without falling in my pumps, sidestep around two people and right in between two other people having a conversation (saying pardon me ofcourse). I passed him my card without saying a word, reversed back through the two people who were conversing but had stopped when they saw me pass him my card, and managed to step off the train as soon as the doors began to close.
GAWD I’m nice.
Such a sexy bitch.
I chuckled to myself as I walked to my meeting and as soon as I got to the building, my phone rang with a message.
Well whaddayaknow?
“Um, hello. This is David, the guy who you gave your card to on the train *chuckle* That was cute. You’re cute. My number is blahblahblah. Give me a call.”
My swag wasn’t even all the way on because it was so early in the morning. But hey I got his ass.
His voice was deeeeeep. Me likey.
I called him when I left my meeting and when he picked up I’d told him I wasn’t surprised that he called. He called me cocky and I thanked him. People tend to misconstrue confidence with cockiness and since I am tired of correcting people I just thank them either way.
It was mid week and I’d decided that I’d have him on the weekend. Saturday arrived and I told him to come over after I ran errands. When he arrived all I had on was a wife beater, boy shorts and baby oil. He was verrrry nervous.
He was only 21.
I invited him to my bedroom because I’d been watching some tv but I knew that in a few minutes the tv would be watching me. I got right down to business. I walked right up to him and started de-robing him. Jacket…hoodie…tee…belt…pants…boxers…Timbs. I stood nose to nose (on my tip toes) and waited for him to kiss me and he did. He knew exactly what this was about.
Time out.
Not sure what he’d eaten, but the breath and the tartness wasn’t working for me. I pulled back.
*sigh*
By now yall already know how I feel about kissing.
I turned him towards the bed and reached down to feel on his dick.
Nice. About 8 inches and fat.
I got on my knees to look at it.
*record scratches*
I blinked. And blinked again because maybe my contacts were drying up on me.
They weren’t.
His dick was ashy.
Like Johnson’s Baby Powder ashy.
It was snow white in comparison to the cashew complexion of his face.
WHAT THE FUCK? DID YOU FORGET TO LOTION THAT SHIT UP?
DO YOU EVER LOTION THAT SHIT UP??? JEEZUS.
I am very particular about my dicks. Especially if I’m gonna be sucking on it. So atleast have it ready to go for me! Have it looking like it’s eatable or suckable!
He grabbed his dick away from me and started stroking it. I guess I was taking too long to put my mouth on it. Fuck THAT.
I’d grabbed a condom from my nightstand drawer and threw it on him. I wasn’t being kissed and I wasn’t sucking dick so you know what that meant. I was DRY AS SANDPAPER. Out came the lube from the drawer. I keep it for shit like this.
I lubed that bad boy up and slid down on it and rode it until I was tired. I knew that I wasn’t going to cum but I also knew that because of that ashy dick and that tart breath that HE wasn’t going to have it his way at ALL. There would be no 69 or no doggie style. You get nothing but me on top the cock until I’m ready to kick you out of my house. That moment came 13 minutes later. No pun intended. He had a satisfied spacey look on his face when I came out of the bathroom. He was still stretched out on my bed naked.
Um, how about no.
As much as I wanted to throw his clothes at him, I passed them to him and told him I had to make a run so WE had to leave.
He tried to kiss me goodbye and I turned to give him cheek and we parted ways at the corner. I went to the store to get a Sprite and he called me later that night. He got voicemail for the next two weeks until he decided to stop calling.
ASHY COCK?
REALLY??
Anyway, I looked around and spotted the culprit and made sure that I made eye contact and shook my head at him to let this fool know that he was not GOOD.
Anyhoo - I must’ve missed this one walk on when my eyes were closed. He was sitting at 10:00 to my 6:00. His eyes were closed and his long, straight hair was brushed back into a ponytail. The ponytail came around and rested on the front of his right shoulder. He was shaped up to perfection with a thin goatee. He was Puerto Rican and though I vowed to not to fuck with another psycho ass Puerto Rican, I had to have him. His skin was the color of cashews with a strong jawline, a wide mouth and nice lips. Though he was seated he appeared to be tall…maybe around 6’1 and approximately 185 pounds. He looked thick. Yum.
I stared at him until he finally opened his eyes realizing that I was burning a hole into his face. I needed to see his eyes just in case he didn’t have a crazy eye that would change my mind immediately.
He didn’t. He looked right at me and held my gaze. Unfortunately I was the first to look away because it was that intense and I was pissed off because I never back down dammit. I was getting off in two stops so I knew what I would do. I looked into my bag, found my wallet and pulled out one of my cards that had my picture as well as all contact info on it. There were a few people that I would have to maneuver around to get to him AND get to the door before the train doors would close. But I’m too smooth. It wouldn't be a problem. As soon as the train pulled into the station, I managed to get up without falling in my pumps, sidestep around two people and right in between two other people having a conversation (saying pardon me ofcourse). I passed him my card without saying a word, reversed back through the two people who were conversing but had stopped when they saw me pass him my card, and managed to step off the train as soon as the doors began to close.
GAWD I’m nice.
Such a sexy bitch.
I chuckled to myself as I walked to my meeting and as soon as I got to the building, my phone rang with a message.
Well whaddayaknow?
“Um, hello. This is David, the guy who you gave your card to on the train *chuckle* That was cute. You’re cute. My number is blahblahblah. Give me a call.”
My swag wasn’t even all the way on because it was so early in the morning. But hey I got his ass.
His voice was deeeeeep. Me likey.
I called him when I left my meeting and when he picked up I’d told him I wasn’t surprised that he called. He called me cocky and I thanked him. People tend to misconstrue confidence with cockiness and since I am tired of correcting people I just thank them either way.
It was mid week and I’d decided that I’d have him on the weekend. Saturday arrived and I told him to come over after I ran errands. When he arrived all I had on was a wife beater, boy shorts and baby oil. He was verrrry nervous.
He was only 21.
I invited him to my bedroom because I’d been watching some tv but I knew that in a few minutes the tv would be watching me. I got right down to business. I walked right up to him and started de-robing him. Jacket…hoodie…tee…belt…pants…boxers…Timbs. I stood nose to nose (on my tip toes) and waited for him to kiss me and he did. He knew exactly what this was about.
Time out.
Not sure what he’d eaten, but the breath and the tartness wasn’t working for me. I pulled back.
*sigh*
By now yall already know how I feel about kissing.
I turned him towards the bed and reached down to feel on his dick.
Nice. About 8 inches and fat.
I got on my knees to look at it.
*record scratches*
I blinked. And blinked again because maybe my contacts were drying up on me.
They weren’t.
His dick was ashy.
Like Johnson’s Baby Powder ashy.
It was snow white in comparison to the cashew complexion of his face.
WHAT THE FUCK? DID YOU FORGET TO LOTION THAT SHIT UP?
DO YOU EVER LOTION THAT SHIT UP??? JEEZUS.
I am very particular about my dicks. Especially if I’m gonna be sucking on it. So atleast have it ready to go for me! Have it looking like it’s eatable or suckable!
He grabbed his dick away from me and started stroking it. I guess I was taking too long to put my mouth on it. Fuck THAT.
I’d grabbed a condom from my nightstand drawer and threw it on him. I wasn’t being kissed and I wasn’t sucking dick so you know what that meant. I was DRY AS SANDPAPER. Out came the lube from the drawer. I keep it for shit like this.
I lubed that bad boy up and slid down on it and rode it until I was tired. I knew that I wasn’t going to cum but I also knew that because of that ashy dick and that tart breath that HE wasn’t going to have it his way at ALL. There would be no 69 or no doggie style. You get nothing but me on top the cock until I’m ready to kick you out of my house. That moment came 13 minutes later. No pun intended. He had a satisfied spacey look on his face when I came out of the bathroom. He was still stretched out on my bed naked.
Um, how about no.
As much as I wanted to throw his clothes at him, I passed them to him and told him I had to make a run so WE had to leave.
He tried to kiss me goodbye and I turned to give him cheek and we parted ways at the corner. I went to the store to get a Sprite and he called me later that night. He got voicemail for the next two weeks until he decided to stop calling.
ASHY COCK?
REALLY??
Mr. You Knew That Shit Was Small All Those Years I Wanted Your Ass
Back in junior high there was this guy. He was an artist and he was extremely quiet. I was intrigued by his quietness. He held my interest for six years. I was a geek back in the day, thick glasses, skinny like Olive Oil, braces… but even throughout junior high and high school we became and remained friends. We went to different high schools but since we lived around the same way we always saw each other. I’d always go by his house and we’d sit on the steps just shooting the shit as he teased me and I got mad (for like 5 seconds) and he’d just draw. He was extremely talented and I’d always have him draw me things. Hats, shirts, etc.
One summer a couple of years after high school I’d contacted him to do some work for me. I no longer lived in the same area as him so to get to him I had to take a JOURNEY from the Bronx to Queens on public transportation. Ugh. When I got to his house to pick it up, it wasn’t done!!! I was PISSED because I didn’t have the time to wait around because I knew he’d want to play around and not concentrate on what he was supposed to be doing. He’d told me he was house sitting for someone he knew around the block so we went to this house around the corner. It was a brand new vacant house and the owner had wanted to make sure that no one broke in. We’d sat on the floor and listened to music while he finished drawing up my work. Before I knew it, I noticed him stop drawing and start staring with that lustful bedroom look that we all know about. Hey, I was with it. I’d dreamed about fucking him for YEARS. He crawled across the floor to me and put his face so close to mine that I felt his breath on me.
He’d always had a broad back, even in junior high. But eight years later his chest was bigger, his back more defined, his waist small. He was about 6 feet tall, 175 pounds. He was light skinned..YES..a redbone. That’s how you know this was back in the day because I don’t do redbones anymore. His eyes were almond shaped, eyes dark brown and those fingers….they were like artwork themselves. Long, slender, smooth….an artist’s hands. AND he was a lefty. Left handed people are usually very creative. I’ve had quite a few of those. His lips were wide and soft when he tilted my chin up to put them on mine.
Instant leakage.
I pressed my chest up against his and wrapped my arms around his neck. I had wanted him for SO long. I just KNEW he would give it to me right. In the time we were kissing each other he’d managed to de-robe me of everything I had on and him as well. All I knew is that my pussy was swollen and I was completely out of my mind because I was FINALLY going to have him!
The hardwood floor was cool against my back and he felt my body react to it as he slid our clothes underneath of me. I wasn’t as experienced then but I knew a few things and all I knew was that I was running out of patience and I wanted to feel cock in me.
He was on top of me and his breathing was becoming more shallow and quick. I felt his body pumping away but I couldn’t understand why he was taking so long to put it in, I was horny as all hell and was about to FREAK. He was still pumping away and all of a sudden he collapsed on top of me. He was out of breath and I was confused.
“Umm did you cum?”
“Yes” He’d said.
I still didn’t fully understand what had happened. Come to think of it I’d remembered a little tickle in my vagina but nothing more.
Then it hit me.
He had a pinky dick.
His dick was so small that I didn’t feel him inside of me.
I was in shock.
I couldn’t speak.
I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry because so many years had passed and so many times I had thought about what it would be like with him. He had the nerve to try and fall asleep. Was he fucking KIDDING me? I woke his ass up so he could finish my artwork. He’d said “You might as well just stay the night because it’s too late to be in the streets at this time of night.” I realized that he hadn’t planned to finish it that night, but to finish it in the morning.
Fucking A.
I never got any sleep that night and as soon as the sun came up I woke him up to finish. He did and I’d given him a quick hug and left when it was done.
I had no plans on calling anytime soon because I felt it would take me awhile to get over this traumatic incident. I’d wished this had never happened to me and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. He called me a few weeks later and asked why he hadn’t heard from me. I didn’t quite know what to say other than I’d been busy. Years passed and he had two children.
*stare*
I wonder how THAT happened or what kinda pussy actually FELT that shit.
FAIL.
Has anyone ever had a pinky dick?
One summer a couple of years after high school I’d contacted him to do some work for me. I no longer lived in the same area as him so to get to him I had to take a JOURNEY from the Bronx to Queens on public transportation. Ugh. When I got to his house to pick it up, it wasn’t done!!! I was PISSED because I didn’t have the time to wait around because I knew he’d want to play around and not concentrate on what he was supposed to be doing. He’d told me he was house sitting for someone he knew around the block so we went to this house around the corner. It was a brand new vacant house and the owner had wanted to make sure that no one broke in. We’d sat on the floor and listened to music while he finished drawing up my work. Before I knew it, I noticed him stop drawing and start staring with that lustful bedroom look that we all know about. Hey, I was with it. I’d dreamed about fucking him for YEARS. He crawled across the floor to me and put his face so close to mine that I felt his breath on me.
He’d always had a broad back, even in junior high. But eight years later his chest was bigger, his back more defined, his waist small. He was about 6 feet tall, 175 pounds. He was light skinned..YES..a redbone. That’s how you know this was back in the day because I don’t do redbones anymore. His eyes were almond shaped, eyes dark brown and those fingers….they were like artwork themselves. Long, slender, smooth….an artist’s hands. AND he was a lefty. Left handed people are usually very creative. I’ve had quite a few of those. His lips were wide and soft when he tilted my chin up to put them on mine.
Instant leakage.
I pressed my chest up against his and wrapped my arms around his neck. I had wanted him for SO long. I just KNEW he would give it to me right. In the time we were kissing each other he’d managed to de-robe me of everything I had on and him as well. All I knew is that my pussy was swollen and I was completely out of my mind because I was FINALLY going to have him!
The hardwood floor was cool against my back and he felt my body react to it as he slid our clothes underneath of me. I wasn’t as experienced then but I knew a few things and all I knew was that I was running out of patience and I wanted to feel cock in me.
He was on top of me and his breathing was becoming more shallow and quick. I felt his body pumping away but I couldn’t understand why he was taking so long to put it in, I was horny as all hell and was about to FREAK. He was still pumping away and all of a sudden he collapsed on top of me. He was out of breath and I was confused.
“Umm did you cum?”
“Yes” He’d said.
I still didn’t fully understand what had happened. Come to think of it I’d remembered a little tickle in my vagina but nothing more.
Then it hit me.
He had a pinky dick.
His dick was so small that I didn’t feel him inside of me.
I was in shock.
I couldn’t speak.
I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry because so many years had passed and so many times I had thought about what it would be like with him. He had the nerve to try and fall asleep. Was he fucking KIDDING me? I woke his ass up so he could finish my artwork. He’d said “You might as well just stay the night because it’s too late to be in the streets at this time of night.” I realized that he hadn’t planned to finish it that night, but to finish it in the morning.
Fucking A.
I never got any sleep that night and as soon as the sun came up I woke him up to finish. He did and I’d given him a quick hug and left when it was done.
I had no plans on calling anytime soon because I felt it would take me awhile to get over this traumatic incident. I’d wished this had never happened to me and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. He called me a few weeks later and asked why he hadn’t heard from me. I didn’t quite know what to say other than I’d been busy. Years passed and he had two children.
*stare*
I wonder how THAT happened or what kinda pussy actually FELT that shit.
FAIL.
Has anyone ever had a pinky dick?
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Mr. Studded Crown
As I said in my Intro these will be in no particular order in my life but moreso of who comes to mind. Let's chat about Mr. Studded Crown.
See me personally, I love sucking dick. Just typing that out is making my pussy throb. Most of the time I don't even suck dick for the dude I'm fucking. It's to get ME off. I don't do it to all dudes because all dudes really aren't deserving of it from me. Those are just the fuck me and STFU dudes. However, introducing Mr. Studded Crown. I met him at a tattoo shop to where I'd gotten some ink done but had brought in a friend to get some. As we walked into the artist's room there was a tall (6'2"), dark specimen of a man standing with his shirt off and back towards the door. As my and my dude walked in and I saw his back I instantly said in a low Wendy Williams voice "Mmmmmm how YOU doin?" My dude Steve heard me and just laughed. He didn't mind because he likes guys his damned self. He had ink EVERYWHERE....nice.
He turned around, putting his shirt back on after discussing more ink that he wanted and where to the artist.
I digress.
I have this thing for tall men. Preferably darker skinned, but have no problem with the caramel boys. I like nice bodies....REALLY nice bodies. I work out, so you can't think that you gonna get some of this gorgeousness and YOUR shit ain't right. FUCK THAT. Step your workout game up. I deal with mostly athletically shaped men who carry themselves a certain kinda way. I can't give you too much particulars other than the fact that all the men I have or presently deal with have some sort of SWAG about them. Alot of them have been artists, corporate, thugs...whatever. But there must be SOMETHING about you other than your looks that intrigues me. You have to be able to speak. You have to know a few things...talk to me. Show me you can hold a conversation with me that doesn't just sound like "Yo Ma, what's REALLY good? Can I come through?" Nigga please. Keep it movin'.
So as Steve takes a seat this tall dark specimen chose not to leave the room but instead stand there and look at Steve and then stare at me. So I'm looking at Steve waiting for any kind of notion that he is not comfortable with this man in the room while he gets inked. I didn't see any. I was dressed all the way down that day. Newsboy hat pulled low over my eyes, minimal makeup - just a touch of shimmer across the cheekbones and mascara, a thick hooded wrap sweater under a black trench with some skinny jeans and over the knee boots. I tell him if he is going to stare to either say something or take a pic because it will last longer. We go at it back and forth mouthing off for another 20 minutes. I had to let this character know that just because his skin was chocolate milk with a couple of extra teaspoons of Nestle mixed in, and that his lashes were as long as mine, and that his eyes sparkled constantly, and that his lips were some of the juiciest I’d ever seen as he licked them in an LL kinda way, and that he had a bald head and a shadowed beard shaped to perfection, that I would NOT get entrapped in that gaze that he wouldn’t take off of me and that I would NOT be rendered speechless with his smart assed mouth because I run with the best of them.
I knew that before we even exchanged numbers that I was going to fuck his brains out. I was gonna make this dude love me JUST because I can. And so we exchanged numbers.
*sigh*
In speaking with him for a few days I realized a few things. He was a Chatty Charlie. He ran his mouth non fucking stop. All from the clothing line he has (which I won’t mention because you’ll see him and I’m not about calling people out…well..maybe when I stop dealing with him LMAO), to bragging about all the women who want him and blahblahfuckingblah, (that, by the way is a trademark of Harlem dudes.), and brag about how big his cock was among other things. But the kickers were as follows: he doesn’t have a car and he’s 30 and SELLS WEED. Um yea no. The ONLY thing you can do for me is put THOSE lips on my box and fuck me thank you. Nothing more, nothing less.
His living situation is not my ideal. Shares with his brothers or something like so. Anyway I told him I wanted to fuck and he went and got a hotel room and called me a cab. As soon as I got there I started stripping. By the time he came out of the bathroom, I was already in bed under the sheets. He got in the bed and started CUDDLING.
*blinkblink*
Where the FUCK do they do that at? That’s DEF not what I was there for.
I grabbed his dick and saw that he wasn’t lying. It was long and thick, just how I like em.
In a conversation we’d had earlier in the week about oral sex, he’d told me that he’d had a Studded Crown. Now I had an idea of what he meant but asked him to elaborate. He did. Said he has ridges around his dick like the studded condoms (that I dislike) and it’s been like that all his life. He said doctors said it’s not uncommon and that it’s normal.
Whatever.
I digress.
I LOVE to kiss. I think it’s a very important part of foreplay that should not be skipped. I love to do it and am very good at it and if I feel I can’t kiss you then more than likely I am not fucking you. If I find that you can’t do it, I am completely turned off and will dry up quicker than a Bounty pick up.
So I went in on the kissing of his gorgeous lips of his, nibbling and sucking on his bottom lip teasing and tantalizing as he squirmed beneath me. He flipped me over and pushed my shoulders back on the bed and I watched as his bald head disappeared to the Love Below. THIS MUHFUCKA can give good head. Not as good as Mr. I Need Your Box in My Mouth (but that’s another blog), but close. He played with my hardware, licking and sucking like it was his last meal. If I didn’t know any better I’d thought that he forgot that I was in fact, there with him and it wasn’t just him and the box. He had my shit THROBBING.
Niagra Falls. On.
I couldn’t take it and all I wanted was the cock in me. After he put the hat on I jumped up and pushed him on the bed and climbed up on the dick. I rode that shit hard and fast. I was very aggressive and I think it caught him off guard because when I looked down at his face he was just staring at me with his mouth open. I rode him like I owned him. I figured I’d let him have some fun so I got up and bent over the edge of the bed and let him dig in. I knew he was about to cum and he did.
He went to dispose of the condom and I was left horny as SHIT. I wanted to suck some dick. When he came back he was still hard so I climbed back on top of him to let my lips meet his head. The moan that came out of him made me start to leak down my leg and that’s when I felt it.
The Studded Crown.
The ridges in my mouth. They were at the bottom of his head around the girth. I pulled back and tried to peer at it in the tv-lit room but couldn’t see much. THIS wasn’t gonna work. I started thinking about shit that you don’t want to think about when you have sex.
What the FUCK was that in my mouth?? Is my mouth going to breakout? What’s the ratio of men that have this “common” diagnosis? Out of ALL my conquests this was the first.
I ran my thumb around the circumference and realized that it felt just like a studded condom. *sigh* I couldn’t do it and I wasn’t going to front like I could be ok with it. It freaked me out. He asked what was wrong.
“I don’t like the way your dick feels in my mouth, I can’t do it.”
“AWWWWW MANNNNNNNN”
He knew why. I couldn’t have possibly been the first woman to have had an issue with this. So he knew.
He flipped me over and went back down for dessert at the Love Below. I got to buss off in his mouth a few times and I was good.
He rolls over, looks me in my eyes and says "You're mine." Over and over and over.
Nigga please.
He gives good head, good dick, and can kiss well. It’s unfortunate that I can’t get my rocks off sucking him off. Has anyone else experienced the Studded Crown effect? I’m curious.
See me personally, I love sucking dick. Just typing that out is making my pussy throb. Most of the time I don't even suck dick for the dude I'm fucking. It's to get ME off. I don't do it to all dudes because all dudes really aren't deserving of it from me. Those are just the fuck me and STFU dudes. However, introducing Mr. Studded Crown. I met him at a tattoo shop to where I'd gotten some ink done but had brought in a friend to get some. As we walked into the artist's room there was a tall (6'2"), dark specimen of a man standing with his shirt off and back towards the door. As my and my dude walked in and I saw his back I instantly said in a low Wendy Williams voice "Mmmmmm how YOU doin?" My dude Steve heard me and just laughed. He didn't mind because he likes guys his damned self. He had ink EVERYWHERE....nice.
He turned around, putting his shirt back on after discussing more ink that he wanted and where to the artist.
I digress.
I have this thing for tall men. Preferably darker skinned, but have no problem with the caramel boys. I like nice bodies....REALLY nice bodies. I work out, so you can't think that you gonna get some of this gorgeousness and YOUR shit ain't right. FUCK THAT. Step your workout game up. I deal with mostly athletically shaped men who carry themselves a certain kinda way. I can't give you too much particulars other than the fact that all the men I have or presently deal with have some sort of SWAG about them. Alot of them have been artists, corporate, thugs...whatever. But there must be SOMETHING about you other than your looks that intrigues me. You have to be able to speak. You have to know a few things...talk to me. Show me you can hold a conversation with me that doesn't just sound like "Yo Ma, what's REALLY good? Can I come through?" Nigga please. Keep it movin'.
So as Steve takes a seat this tall dark specimen chose not to leave the room but instead stand there and look at Steve and then stare at me. So I'm looking at Steve waiting for any kind of notion that he is not comfortable with this man in the room while he gets inked. I didn't see any. I was dressed all the way down that day. Newsboy hat pulled low over my eyes, minimal makeup - just a touch of shimmer across the cheekbones and mascara, a thick hooded wrap sweater under a black trench with some skinny jeans and over the knee boots. I tell him if he is going to stare to either say something or take a pic because it will last longer. We go at it back and forth mouthing off for another 20 minutes. I had to let this character know that just because his skin was chocolate milk with a couple of extra teaspoons of Nestle mixed in, and that his lashes were as long as mine, and that his eyes sparkled constantly, and that his lips were some of the juiciest I’d ever seen as he licked them in an LL kinda way, and that he had a bald head and a shadowed beard shaped to perfection, that I would NOT get entrapped in that gaze that he wouldn’t take off of me and that I would NOT be rendered speechless with his smart assed mouth because I run with the best of them.
I knew that before we even exchanged numbers that I was going to fuck his brains out. I was gonna make this dude love me JUST because I can. And so we exchanged numbers.
*sigh*
In speaking with him for a few days I realized a few things. He was a Chatty Charlie. He ran his mouth non fucking stop. All from the clothing line he has (which I won’t mention because you’ll see him and I’m not about calling people out…well..maybe when I stop dealing with him LMAO), to bragging about all the women who want him and blahblahfuckingblah, (that, by the way is a trademark of Harlem dudes.), and brag about how big his cock was among other things. But the kickers were as follows: he doesn’t have a car and he’s 30 and SELLS WEED. Um yea no. The ONLY thing you can do for me is put THOSE lips on my box and fuck me thank you. Nothing more, nothing less.
His living situation is not my ideal. Shares with his brothers or something like so. Anyway I told him I wanted to fuck and he went and got a hotel room and called me a cab. As soon as I got there I started stripping. By the time he came out of the bathroom, I was already in bed under the sheets. He got in the bed and started CUDDLING.
*blinkblink*
Where the FUCK do they do that at? That’s DEF not what I was there for.
I grabbed his dick and saw that he wasn’t lying. It was long and thick, just how I like em.
In a conversation we’d had earlier in the week about oral sex, he’d told me that he’d had a Studded Crown. Now I had an idea of what he meant but asked him to elaborate. He did. Said he has ridges around his dick like the studded condoms (that I dislike) and it’s been like that all his life. He said doctors said it’s not uncommon and that it’s normal.
Whatever.
I digress.
I LOVE to kiss. I think it’s a very important part of foreplay that should not be skipped. I love to do it and am very good at it and if I feel I can’t kiss you then more than likely I am not fucking you. If I find that you can’t do it, I am completely turned off and will dry up quicker than a Bounty pick up.
So I went in on the kissing of his gorgeous lips of his, nibbling and sucking on his bottom lip teasing and tantalizing as he squirmed beneath me. He flipped me over and pushed my shoulders back on the bed and I watched as his bald head disappeared to the Love Below. THIS MUHFUCKA can give good head. Not as good as Mr. I Need Your Box in My Mouth (but that’s another blog), but close. He played with my hardware, licking and sucking like it was his last meal. If I didn’t know any better I’d thought that he forgot that I was in fact, there with him and it wasn’t just him and the box. He had my shit THROBBING.
Niagra Falls. On.
I couldn’t take it and all I wanted was the cock in me. After he put the hat on I jumped up and pushed him on the bed and climbed up on the dick. I rode that shit hard and fast. I was very aggressive and I think it caught him off guard because when I looked down at his face he was just staring at me with his mouth open. I rode him like I owned him. I figured I’d let him have some fun so I got up and bent over the edge of the bed and let him dig in. I knew he was about to cum and he did.
He went to dispose of the condom and I was left horny as SHIT. I wanted to suck some dick. When he came back he was still hard so I climbed back on top of him to let my lips meet his head. The moan that came out of him made me start to leak down my leg and that’s when I felt it.
The Studded Crown.
The ridges in my mouth. They were at the bottom of his head around the girth. I pulled back and tried to peer at it in the tv-lit room but couldn’t see much. THIS wasn’t gonna work. I started thinking about shit that you don’t want to think about when you have sex.
What the FUCK was that in my mouth?? Is my mouth going to breakout? What’s the ratio of men that have this “common” diagnosis? Out of ALL my conquests this was the first.
I ran my thumb around the circumference and realized that it felt just like a studded condom. *sigh* I couldn’t do it and I wasn’t going to front like I could be ok with it. It freaked me out. He asked what was wrong.
“I don’t like the way your dick feels in my mouth, I can’t do it.”
“AWWWWW MANNNNNNNN”
He knew why. I couldn’t have possibly been the first woman to have had an issue with this. So he knew.
He flipped me over and went back down for dessert at the Love Below. I got to buss off in his mouth a few times and I was good.
He rolls over, looks me in my eyes and says "You're mine." Over and over and over.
Nigga please.
He gives good head, good dick, and can kiss well. It’s unfortunate that I can’t get my rocks off sucking him off. Has anyone else experienced the Studded Crown effect? I’m curious.
Mr. First
I guess it would only be right to start with my first. *sigh*
Let me start by giving you a visual. He was about 6'1", slim...about 165 if that. Long fingers, and long feet. Caramel complected, deep drown eyes, a soft voice, with lips that invited me to suck on them for hours.
I met him through his cousin that I was originally talking to who adored me and was a cool dude. I met Mr. First just by being at the house hanging out. There were 3 of them (cousins) and Mr. First was the cutest. We were all cool but I saw how'd he look at me when no one else was around. I tried to play it off because I didn't want to get anything misconstrued...I was dealing with his cousin. Period.
His cousin ended up getting into some kind of trouble and had to go away, and I can't really recall how we managed to get each others numbers but we did. Mr. First ended up turning into my first love. I was 17 and a virgin at the time but I knew I really ended up liking this dude and still went over to the house and hung out with him not giving a fuck WHAT his family thought or said about me. Apparently he didn't either.
A good friend of mine had introduced me to this family and we all knew each other well. She had told me that he wasn't the age I thought he was because she went to the same high school as him. I was under the impression that he was 18.
I didn't care to believe her and continued to go over and watch movies and play basketball with him. He had a little conniving ass sister who I wanted to choke out because she always tried to cause a problem. Yelling through the house saying this girl was on the phone for him or that girl was on the phone for him.
*stare*
I didn't necessarily care about all that because I loved this guy. We were in LaLa land.
One day we were making out and it was getting hot and heavy. He knew I was a virgin and he never pushed me to do anything I didn’t want to do. This was the day I decided I wanted to know what it felt like. I had no desire to have sex throughout highschool just because of the fact that everyone was doing and acting like it was sooo good. Bitch please, you just lost your virginity and you know that shit hurt. Anyway, he found a condom and put it on. I looked down and thought to myself, WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT GOING? Second thoughts flooded my mind. Though it was this creamy brown color and seemed to have this glow to it, the shit was HUGE. He saw my hesitation and said “We don’t have to do this..” I grabbed the back of his head and pulled his mouth to mine. He started to enter and it felt like a hammer trying to get through a pin hole. The pain was like searing hot lava. I couldn’t get any words out. I looked down and he wasn’t even all the way in! It wasn’t even HALF WAY in! I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. He pushed all the way in and I’d thought I’d died and went to hell. After being completely submersed in the folds of my prism he just stayed still for a moment. He looked into my eyes and asked if I was ok. The pain had brought tears to my eyes so I just nodded. I had brought of my knees up and opened up a little to let him know that it was alright to proceed. He began to stroke with soft, concentrated movements trying to be careful not to inflict any more pain than necessary. Even with his cautiousness, the screams were caught in my throat. I just could NOT relax. Five minutes had went by and I’d guessed it felt amazing to him, hell if I know but just when the fire had begun to subside…..he stopped and said “You ain’t ready for this yet….” And pulled out. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to be mad he stopped or happy he stopped.
I had finally had been plucked.
It seemed as though we were in puppy love….calling all the time, seeing each other damn near everyday…until that day. I had went over to his house and he had gotten a dog and went to walk it. I'd stayed in his room and watched tv for awhile. An hour had gone by and I couldn’t understand what kind of dog needed to be walked for an hour. He had a private phone line in his room and it rang. I wasn’t sure if I should pick it up so I let his voicemail pick up.
“Hey baby, call me when you get in to let me know what time you’re coming over, I love you” she’d said.
*blinkblink*
I couldn’t move. The rage began to fill my chest, my eyes began to burn and all I saw was red. I tried to breathe it out as I got up and walked over to the window wondering if he’d be back anytime soon. That’s when I saw it.
His high school ID.
His date of birth was on it.
He had lied about his age.
She was right.
He was 15.
I mean YOU AINT GOT TA LIE CRAIG!!!! YOU AIN'T GOTSTA LIE!!!!!! I couldn't figure out what I wanted to be more mad about! Him being a mere CHILD taking my virginity and having me in love with his ass or him being a mere child taking my fucking virginity and still fucking who knows HOW many other chicks?! Jesus. I guess you already know that I left without a word and hopped on the bus home. I called my friend and told her what happened in tears. Being the great friend that she was….she didn’t say “I told you so.” She just listened to me sob.
He called and called and called and I never answered. It's interesting to me that I was able to just let his ass go the minute I found out he was playing me but as I got older it was harder for me to do that. Ehhhhh.
I think this is what set the trend for me dealing with younger guys as you will see.
Let me start by giving you a visual. He was about 6'1", slim...about 165 if that. Long fingers, and long feet. Caramel complected, deep drown eyes, a soft voice, with lips that invited me to suck on them for hours.
I met him through his cousin that I was originally talking to who adored me and was a cool dude. I met Mr. First just by being at the house hanging out. There were 3 of them (cousins) and Mr. First was the cutest. We were all cool but I saw how'd he look at me when no one else was around. I tried to play it off because I didn't want to get anything misconstrued...I was dealing with his cousin. Period.
His cousin ended up getting into some kind of trouble and had to go away, and I can't really recall how we managed to get each others numbers but we did. Mr. First ended up turning into my first love. I was 17 and a virgin at the time but I knew I really ended up liking this dude and still went over to the house and hung out with him not giving a fuck WHAT his family thought or said about me. Apparently he didn't either.
A good friend of mine had introduced me to this family and we all knew each other well. She had told me that he wasn't the age I thought he was because she went to the same high school as him. I was under the impression that he was 18.
I didn't care to believe her and continued to go over and watch movies and play basketball with him. He had a little conniving ass sister who I wanted to choke out because she always tried to cause a problem. Yelling through the house saying this girl was on the phone for him or that girl was on the phone for him.
*stare*
I didn't necessarily care about all that because I loved this guy. We were in LaLa land.
One day we were making out and it was getting hot and heavy. He knew I was a virgin and he never pushed me to do anything I didn’t want to do. This was the day I decided I wanted to know what it felt like. I had no desire to have sex throughout highschool just because of the fact that everyone was doing and acting like it was sooo good. Bitch please, you just lost your virginity and you know that shit hurt. Anyway, he found a condom and put it on. I looked down and thought to myself, WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT GOING? Second thoughts flooded my mind. Though it was this creamy brown color and seemed to have this glow to it, the shit was HUGE. He saw my hesitation and said “We don’t have to do this..” I grabbed the back of his head and pulled his mouth to mine. He started to enter and it felt like a hammer trying to get through a pin hole. The pain was like searing hot lava. I couldn’t get any words out. I looked down and he wasn’t even all the way in! It wasn’t even HALF WAY in! I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. He pushed all the way in and I’d thought I’d died and went to hell. After being completely submersed in the folds of my prism he just stayed still for a moment. He looked into my eyes and asked if I was ok. The pain had brought tears to my eyes so I just nodded. I had brought of my knees up and opened up a little to let him know that it was alright to proceed. He began to stroke with soft, concentrated movements trying to be careful not to inflict any more pain than necessary. Even with his cautiousness, the screams were caught in my throat. I just could NOT relax. Five minutes had went by and I’d guessed it felt amazing to him, hell if I know but just when the fire had begun to subside…..he stopped and said “You ain’t ready for this yet….” And pulled out. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to be mad he stopped or happy he stopped.
I had finally had been plucked.
It seemed as though we were in puppy love….calling all the time, seeing each other damn near everyday…until that day. I had went over to his house and he had gotten a dog and went to walk it. I'd stayed in his room and watched tv for awhile. An hour had gone by and I couldn’t understand what kind of dog needed to be walked for an hour. He had a private phone line in his room and it rang. I wasn’t sure if I should pick it up so I let his voicemail pick up.
“Hey baby, call me when you get in to let me know what time you’re coming over, I love you” she’d said.
*blinkblink*
I couldn’t move. The rage began to fill my chest, my eyes began to burn and all I saw was red. I tried to breathe it out as I got up and walked over to the window wondering if he’d be back anytime soon. That’s when I saw it.
His high school ID.
His date of birth was on it.
He had lied about his age.
She was right.
He was 15.
I mean YOU AINT GOT TA LIE CRAIG!!!! YOU AIN'T GOTSTA LIE!!!!!! I couldn't figure out what I wanted to be more mad about! Him being a mere CHILD taking my virginity and having me in love with his ass or him being a mere child taking my fucking virginity and still fucking who knows HOW many other chicks?! Jesus. I guess you already know that I left without a word and hopped on the bus home. I called my friend and told her what happened in tears. Being the great friend that she was….she didn’t say “I told you so.” She just listened to me sob.
He called and called and called and I never answered. It's interesting to me that I was able to just let his ass go the minute I found out he was playing me but as I got older it was harder for me to do that. Ehhhhh.
I think this is what set the trend for me dealing with younger guys as you will see.
Intro
Now, don't get it twisted, I used to be a romantic. I used to love everything about...romance. However, that has changed. Now I think more along the same lines as men and pretty much think of them as tongue, dick, and balls. Hey we are looked at as tits, ass and pussy so what's the difference if I do it.
I've had quite a few experiences from just fucking, to thinking I was in love, to knowing I wasn't in love, to wanting to be in love and all that jazz. Now in THIS day and age in 2010...No fucking way. Call me Jaded..I love it.
In no particular order I will take you through some of my finest and not so finest encounters. Maybe you'll laugh, maybe you'll cry laughing, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll find yourself living vicariously through me or maybe you'll be inspired. You might even be disgusted but hey, you can't please everyone. Nevertheless, I welcome you...to the Box Chronicles.
I've had quite a few experiences from just fucking, to thinking I was in love, to knowing I wasn't in love, to wanting to be in love and all that jazz. Now in THIS day and age in 2010...No fucking way. Call me Jaded..I love it.
In no particular order I will take you through some of my finest and not so finest encounters. Maybe you'll laugh, maybe you'll cry laughing, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll find yourself living vicariously through me or maybe you'll be inspired. You might even be disgusted but hey, you can't please everyone. Nevertheless, I welcome you...to the Box Chronicles.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
