nablopomo: music, life and blogging

>> 11.30.2009

i'm done!
like seriously i'm really done!
this november blogging challenge is over, and i've made it....tired and with hurting brain cells, but i made it nonetheless. a big kiss to kween, who accepted the challenge, and to butterfly effect who also accepted but was unable to finish for extraneous reasons. both of these women i have come to respect and admire, and i'm glad we did this together.

throughout this month, i let you in on what songs impacted my life and why. music is a huge part of my being, and i hope you learned somethings about me. thank you for reading, taking part in my memories and leaving me your kisses.

soo, to celebrate this milestone i will divulge more info about
thank you to butterfly effect for sending me these 10 questions as the challenge winner for guessing the meaning of "hollywood draggin" correctly (which was smoking. i was a benson and hedges super slims smoker for a month of my precious life).

1. Do you believe in God?
i do. both of my parents are pastors and i was brought up in the church, and was very active in ministry ready to be a fulltime minister. i'm now considered a backslider however, i've stopped living in the way i was brought up to the pain of my parents.

2. What is your happiest memory as a child?
 i must say it was being a daddy's girl. my father and i have had a strained relationship since i was 13. but before that i was soo in love with my daddy, and i miss that.

3. How do you feel about President Obama now that he's been in office for a while?
i must admit i'm not one to follow politics, and when i do i follow what's going on at home.

4. If you could go back in time and change anything, what would it be?
i would change soo many things, one being dropping out of university. i didn't get to go to the school i wanted, hence i had to change my major. i couldn't take it anymore, and the financial strain on my parents was a lot so i dropped out.

5. What is your dream job?
if i could sleep and get paid, that would be it! for real though to write for a living, or to share my poetry for a livng would be absolutely perfect!

6. What would be your dream vacation?
i have always dreamed about going to visit all the concentration camps, even before going away to the usual hot countries, or to the mother land, i guess it's the jewish in me.

7. What is your favorite color?
hot pink, black, and poetry.

8. Why do you choose to be anonymous?
no stealth reason, but i find that when people know who you are they can get too comfortable and too familiar with you, which is not always a bad thing, but it's not something i want right now.

9. Are you in debt? If so, how much?
the only debt i have is my unpaid balance on my credit card. $245.00. i've seen my parents live and struggle with debt and i've promised myself that, that will never be me.

10. What is your favorite meal?
i'm such a typical jamaican...LOL. my fav meal is bully beef (corned beef cooked down) and white rice.



my week in texts

>> 11.29.2009

: webcamming? what the heck is that... what happened to me and you? yeah eh? ...... and you hurt your leg, must have been real in it... in a wierd position huh.....ha, ur a real freak huh... so when am i gonna get a sample?

: hey sexy. how you doin? miss me?

: then i asked you "would you like to be friends?" your reply was "no".

: while the cats away, the mice will play :)

: that's intense, are you aware of all the repercussions that come along with being 'the other woman?'

: after your class @ my place.

: i stopped takin in ur blog for like a week, and took it in yesterday.. one of your weekly texts was somthin about you fuckin poetry guy, soo that made me think.

: i probably still want you when i'm old and on viagara...

: so cum sleep here with me.

: i'm sayin if you feel alone maybe if you sleep beside someone, or someone holds you, you can get comfortable.

: so what do you plan on rubbin and suckin when i'm done?

: yet it feels like you push me away, even though i care for you and try to be there...but i get cast to the side and you go and talk to guys that keep you as a flex and then ask questions like you don't understand men, and men are talkin and dealin with losers when a good guy's in front of your face...

: lay down with me.

: i want you for breakfast



nablopomo: in the words of weezy f. baby

...'i'm an alien'
laymans terms, i'm an artist.
i'm a writer.
i've known i was different since i was a little girl, rocking bubbles and clips. my mind has always operated on a different level than those around me. not saying better, just different, the way i would use and view words, the visuals that words would bring to me, and the way i felt when absent from my one true love. people told me i wasn't normal.

as i got older, and up until recently it hit me, and i understood. people who are in love with their art, who live breathe, and die entangled in their art function in a seperate reality. they don't live like everyone else does, often called 'crazy', some become hermits, some take drugs to numb the pain of their brilliance, some go as far as to take their own life. masterpieces aren't created while 'sittin up in their room', masterpieces are created through glazed eyes, staring blankly out of a window, counting the black stars in their white sky. pictures are painted staring past what the eyes see and dredging up the soul. music is created from places some people may never reach. artists live inside their head, they function off of what makes sense to them, and honestly this reality sucks! when i am expierencing a writer's block i am unable to function, i can't breathe this air, it smells stale to me, i yearn to be in my seperate reality. that's where i feel at home, that's where my world is MY world, and that's where everything makes sense. give me a white sky with black lines woven in between the clouds, give me a hot pink pen and set me free.

i'm not saying i'm brilliant, but i can relate to the love of none other but my art, i'm also saying.....set me free. sometimes i wish this reality would just let go of me. i've been seduced by the death of life...the art of words, and i don't want to come back.


monsters and pussy juice

>> 11.27.2009

held captive by a sleep discursive i sigh heavily.
laboured breathing accompanies my audible disturbance as the mink covering my nude body save for a pair of white leopard print panties is slowly pulled away from me, offering my body a rememberance of warmth while allowing the chilly air to begin licking.
it licks first my breasts as my nipples stand up, looking around for the intruder. they ache as if warning me of the impending violation and are quicky silenced, hushed by the flick of your tongue.

i run away from monsters and dragons while you drag your fingertips through my curls, black as night and red as you glance down at the fire hiding in my pussy... and... you...
kiss... my eyelids. cheeks.
nibble on my ear lobes, perfect in the soft moon light.
caress my neck as you tenderly chew on my vein searching for red.
i gasp, as the monster bites me, you look up not alarmed, but aroused, for you have studied my sleep patterns, and i am yours tonight.

you pour wax from the vanilla scented candle onto my skin, a trick i taught you once before. your fingers knead my body as your fingers need my body but you refuse to submit to your dragon as he roars hidden beneath linen and will. intent on journeying to my valley, you slide your tongue down my left leg, circling the scar oddly beautiful now. so careful to leave your mark on each of my toes, one by one you feed your stomach chocolate syrup while whispering tall tales to my feet. the sounds of your stomach growling threaten to ruin the mood, but you continue, and make your way up my right leg. my body begins to tense, and the closer you get to your prize is the sweeter the smell. inhaling you refuse to exhale, letting the smell transfer into a taste in your mouth, and for a minute you keep it there.

lightheaded and focused, licking your lips you dive in.

in a flurry of  teeth, tongue, fingers, clit, and lips you meander through my pussy, exploring the beautiful sight and colours of such a magnificent creation. as if in a trance your finger covered in wet writes me a promise and a curse on the inside of my being, and as my river begins to flow you quickly grab your cup........

standing back, satisfied for the moment you fondly look down at my body still unaware of the violation, a smile forms on your face, and stomach grumbling you put the cup to your lips.....



nablopomo: life on the low: creepin' with hip hop

>> 11.26.2009

i can't believe this blogging challenge is almost done. am i sad, not at all, it was a great experience but lawd, it's harder than i thought it would be.....sigh. shout out to my girl kween and butterfly effect for taking on the challenge also.

in a previous post i shared that i am a habitual cheater, not always physical but mostly emotional, well you can read all about it here.

as much as it sucks, it's a honest part of life, sometimes too honest. a fellow blogger ms.downlow has not only invited us into her world, and her coming to terms with her infidelity riddled marriage, she has published a book about it. and since i've been there, i'm always interested in hearing and reading other people's experiences with it. now you guys should know by now how much i luv hip hop and she has admitted to letting hip hop seduce her, or did she seduce him?

i'm soo excited to get my copy, i've read good reviews about it (read one here), and once i do read it, believe that i will share my thoughts on it.
if you want to get your own copy, visit her blog here as she has a $3.00 discount available for a short period of time.


many of you may be shaking your head, but don't act like you didn't bump to this song at one point in time. shoot i know this song has inspired some fantasies and acts of a creeping

p.s. if i went to bed in those big ass silk pajama's my man will kick my ass out the bed.


nablopomo: my drink and my stripper pole

i am not a club person. truth be told i have never been to a club, it's never been my scene. i don't even have ambitions to go to a house party. i think that's why people think i'm very stuck up, and 'artsy fartsy', i'd rather go to a lounge, poetry slam, jazz festival than drag my ass to a club anyday....and from the pictures i see, and the stories i hear, i must say i'm not too impressed.

dutty ass girls dutty whining on a dutty floor littered with empty bottles. guys who don't know the meaning of the word 'no'. chicks who insist on assaulting the world with their mirrorless fashions. dj's interrupting every friggin song with 'all the sexy ladies..blah blah blah'. chicks who insist they are not there to get chopped but to chill with their girls. bullshit. hot breaths. danced off deoderants. corn worthy shoes (which their ass can't walk in). bathrooms that smell like home on the range. and expensive flavored juice costing me $10. wtf?!

and no matter how 'classy' the club is that you go to, there are always fall downs who ruin the night for you.
but as i get older i find myself wanting to take my stripper dancing ass to a club, of course it has to be high end club though, none of this ghetto ass bullshit. i think i would be an amazing clubber, and i must be honest after seeing this video i think to myself "if i could find a club atmosphere like the concert in this vid, i would be so there" soo if i do go to a club, i will share my failures and successes with you guys.

so, check out the vid and also this email i rummaged up from a disgruntled club goer.


Reasons Why Clubs Are Just Absolutely Horrible.

Reason 1: The Line Up.
The line is filled with girls glittered up and guys wearing leather jackets. Why does every guy look exactly the same? Thankfully, I am set apart with my doughy face and detailed eyebrows. The Line Up is key because nobody believes they belong in it. If you wait in line, you’re not cool. To who? I’m not sure. Probably to the other people who are waiting in line who you think are not cool. We must impress them. So then we begin to suddenly know somebody who can get us in. Chatter, as follows: “Ask the bouncer if Mikey’s working, he’ll get us in.” “Tell them you’re with Sarah +10” “This is Joey’s place man, he’s the head promoter, he’ll get us in.”

Truth is, Mikey was fired, Sarah’s passed out on a toilet at home, and there is no Joey. You just made that up.
Wait in line.

Reason 2: The Girls Who Never Have To Wait In Line.
There’s this faction of women in this world that anchor their pride in this one fundamental belief:
I never wait in line at clubs.
When you meet them, they will immediately inform you of this fact. Wait in line? Me? Fuck that. Do you know who I am? The answer to that question is really just their name. Look. They even do it at job interviews:

"Well, Sarah, thank you for applying to become the Chief Budget Analyst at Royal Bank, let’s get started, shall we?"
"Okay, fun!"
"Let’s start with what you think your key strengths are, Sarah."
"Okay, you know at Lot? I know the owner so me and my girls literally walk in. Mink? I dated the head bouncer, so they don’t even check. I can totally get you in, just text me and I’ll text him, kay? Circa is nothing, they know us. We’re in like thirteen of their promo pictures on their website. They kind of owe me but my friend Tony, he told—"
"I think I lost you. You applied to be the Chief Budget Analyst right?"
"You know what I’m craving right now? Like one of those fun peach bellinis! Wanna go for one?"
"It’s 820am, Sarah."

The new Chief Budget Analyst at Royal Bank.

Reason 3: You’re Really Not That Hot.

At clubs, many young ladies believe they magically turn into Victoria Secret models. This is due to young men who magically develop cataracts. I blame the entire system. Guys walk into a club with one core mission: make out with anything that has an attached uterus. This makes it easy for women who wouldn’t normally get attention at say, 10 am waiting for a streetcar on King street to transform into Jessica Alba at 230am when everyone’s heavily intoxicated. And it’s not like the women are walking away winners here. The guys they’re making out with? Train wrecks. If you don’t believe me ladies, take a look at your friends list right now and tell me how many of your male friends with a name that doesn’t rhyme with Leepak Bethi you would actually make out with sober.

Reason 4: Can’t We All Just Pee?
Going to the bathroom is an event at a club. Hundreds of people seem to need to pee at the exact same time I want to. Also, I am privy to the most inane conversation in the history of the universe.
“Dude, Sarah actually looks hot tonight. Did you see that ass? Mikey, you should deal that.”
“Dude I’ve dealt it like nine times already.”
“Fuck you, no way. When? You lie.”
“No man seriously. It’s true. She totally wants me.”
Then several young men deconstruct Mikey’s claim as to how he ‘dealt Sarah’ until Mikey finally exhausts all of his weak supporting arguments and runs away from the bathroom crying, flailing his arms wildly in the air. Then, while washing my hands, I get to see several young men try to fix their eleven hairs on their head, each spiked up individually. When they have completed, they look exactly the same.
Gel doesn’t fix ugly.

Reason 5: You’re just too old.
If you’re thirty-five and you go to clubs every night, I think that’s cool. Nothing is more appealing than someone who knows what’s hot on a Tuesday night. And also, we enjoy when you tell us what the club was called in 1989 when you first went. It’s like a fun history lesson!

Reason 6: Eating shit food after the club.
Actually, I have nothing against this. Have you seen me? I weigh a staggering one hundred and seventy-five pounds and at several points in my life, I have teetered on the brink of obesity. This is absolutely tremendous.

Reason 7: People who can actually dance.

<------She probably waited in line.

Many of you know I can’t really dance. You’re nice enough not to tell me. Wait. You know what? No you’re not. Many of you have told me many times, shattering me emotionally. How dare you. But it’s true. Much like my poor swimming ability, I can’t really dance. I bop my head up and down to the beat of Biggie sometimes and throw one or perhaps both of my hands up in the air, creating the fascinating facade of me actually dancing. But this is all an illusion. It kind of works until some dude named Hugo comes along and salsas it up with everyone while I unravel on the inside. Who names a kid Hugo anyway? Ass.

PS. There’s no way in hell Mikey dealt Sarah.



nablopomo: meet crazy as named gritty.

>> 11.25.2009

i make it a point not to deal with, date, breathe the same air as but i had to learn my lesson first.
and his name was gritty.

i first saw gritty when i was 16. we were at a park concert and he was with his wife and son, he must have been 23. i was instantly attracted to the passion that he had for God and for life, it was so beautiful and that made him beautiful to me. a year later we met at a tim's and we struck up a convo and it was there he fell in love with me. now divorced, i let him know that i had a boyfriend so nothing could gwan. he never hid the fact that he loved me though, telling me always his plans of marrying me.

we became very good friends fast, and our friendship was unhealthy, but we were attached to each other and both blinded to see the extent of the damage that was being done. we were friends for about 6 years, when one day i saw his piercing green eyes, and i realized that i loved him, not only as a friend, but as more than that. i wanted to be with him, and take care of him until his disease killed him. i say take care of him because he was diabetic and very sick, unable to hold a job, constantly in the hospital and shit. i broke up with my boyfriend smooth and told him i was in love with my friend, and against my mom's advice (i swear she knew his ass was crazy the whole time), gritty and i became a couple.

him, irish and sri lankan wanna be jamaican, me, jamaican plus, i was in love with this sick bald headed skinny 'white' guy, and this sick bald headed skinny 'white' guy introduced me to crazy....

and his ass was crazy! ouhhh let me count the ways:
*when we made out he would bark at me! yes i said bark!
*he would get on all fours and sniff the crotch of my jeans beggin to taste her.
*when we would hug, he would press his ear to mine and hold it there. he had an ear fetish.
*verbally abusive. i cried like every convo we had.
*he would hide out in his home talking about man's dem wanting to kill him.
*he felt the need to hide from me that he was arrested and went to trial for attempted murder. i found out because i googled his ass.

so that shit lasted about 3 months before i came to my God-given senses and broke up with him.....via text..... i know you're thinking text message was the wrong thing to do, i then follow up with: upon reading my text he began to curse my life, literally cursed the day i was born, so you can imagine what would have happened if i did it in person (he had previously showed me how to kill someone with one swipe of a baseball bat...yup).... ouhhhh i am soo glad i didn't give him the goodies!

there is sooo much more to this relationship, and i will definitely divulge the ugliness in later posts, but here is what i felt the theme song for our break up was, well from his point of view anyways. and yet this is still one of my fav songs....



nablopomo: repost: love of my life

>> 11.23.2009



confessions of a webcam whore: my klutz ass

so, as i made mention before i love webcamming. sexcamming i call it, is soo much fun, not only do i get to see gorgeous cocks getting stroaked by manly hands, i do enjoy returning the favor. currently my sexcamming partners are bus driver and cleveland indian (who has kinda stepped up his game since our last session), but they are not without their own dramas, which makes me rethink the whole dyamn thing (to be discussed at a later post)

however my klutz ass had to screw something up.
on thursday night i was sexcamming with cleveland indian.... a part of the night follows...

"aim down mama, and n let's get started" 1:04 am
"need more lite" <~~~ there occured my fatal mistake
" knees" <~~~ really?
"looks delicious, i wanna fuck you rite now"
"i buss" 1:19 am
"i see" <~~~ cum all over a man's hand is strangely sexy for me
"i still wanna fuck, yea, i'm still horny"
"imma shower brb"

"you good?"
"i burned my leggggg...ahhhhhhh!"
in an effort to be the smart ass that i am, when he asked for more light, i took my shadeless lamp off my side table and attempted to put it between my legs, and in the process it not only touched my leg, but it was there for what seemed like HOURS! i swear i heard seering noises.

"u want me to kiss it better?"
"yeah! it fuckin hurts, all cause u wanted to see the pussy"
"luv the kitty though" <~~~ i don't care, my leg is dying!

now i'm limping like a friggin cripple, my mom says "it looks good" really mom?! it looks like i have flesh eating disease! "you've never had a burn before" no, mom, not like THIS!

having to explain my injury to poetry guy wasn't easy "i was being naughty", was all i could muster while smiling not so innocently.
and when i explained it to bus driver he flipped! because i should have known not be sexcamming with anyone else "puhlease".

so, have i learned my lesson? nah. even though i'm in excruciating pain, i'm not even waiting until it heals ;)



OMG, 65 followers, that's intense! i would like to take this moment and kiss my followers both new and old. thank you for taking time out to read my life and leave your lip stains and kisses.

following is done out of interest (well, i think so anyways), and i'm flattered that you take an interest in me.

a big thank you also goes to the blogs that i follow,(i have developed crushes on some of you ;) thank you for putting up with my comments, i take great interest in what you all do and say, but if i become stalkerish, please let me know!



nablopomo: you can't start a fire sittin around crying from a broken heart

>> 11.22.2009

my musical upbringing has been completely ecclectic thanks to my father, a country born jamiacan who was never really into reggae, but give him some elvis presley, the boss, conway twitty, al green, the beatles, abba, and he's good. i grew up listening to all of that, and i love all of that.

my musical playlist includes hip hop, r&b, 80's rock, 60's-70's music, reggae, rock and roll, counrty western, contemporary, and jazz ( i love me some jazz). i am grateful for the wide range in my musical fav's, i think it has made me a well rounded person, and even though i get strange looks and snickers when i start singing along to blondie, or bonnie tyler, my world is wider and i'm a better person for it.

here is a song that anywhere it plays i will drop everything i am doing to sing, and dance along. (i remember when i was in the mall with smooth and we were walking like the sexy couple we were, this song came on, and i became karoke queen up in that spot, fake mic and everything...LOL...poor smooth) *feel free to insert snicker here.*

i can relate to the boss (bruce springsteen) when he says..(all from memory)

stay on the streets of this town/ and they be carving you up alright/
they say you gotta stay hungry/ hey baby i'm just about starving tonight/
i'm dying for some action/ i'm sicka sittin here round here trynna write this book/
i need a love reaction/ come on baby gimme just one look/
you can't start a fire/ sittin round crying from a broken heart/
this gun's for hire/ even if we're just dancing in the dark/
you can't start a fire/ worrying about your little world falling apart/
this gun's for hire/ even if we're just dancing in the dark./

i have to stay hungry, the minute i become complacent where i am, life is no longer worth living. i need action, i write better in the midst of chaos, keep the drama to yourself, but nothing plus nothing equals a shit load of nothing!.
i need love.
the life i want will not happen for me if i moan and cry about my past sadness and my broken hearts, i have to let that shit go and press on to my future.
the life i need will not happen for me if i walk the path in fear of failure, so what if i fall, what if i fail, that should give me a reason to keep trying, to keep plugging at it, because one day i will not fail. my failures do not make me a failure, my willingness to give up does.


my week in texts

: are you up for a lil' private viewing?

: cause your just that beautiful.

: ;Omgsh..WHY did this lady just walk on the bus smelling like pee???? And of course with my luck, she sits right across from me :| and on top of that, i just sent your text to some random stranger by accident LOL! fail...

: because it doesn't give me enough time to get my claws into him on a mid-week date.

: u mean you masturbated right.... u can't wait until friday?

: LOL imma laugh soo hard if by friday nite your writing bout poetry guy fuckin you again, wait here's a heading "poetry guy strikes again"

: wow, if it's good eh? ok, i didn't know you were gauging my performance.



nablopomo: the dream kinda failed on this one

>> 11.21.2009

The Dream Feat Fabolous - Shawty Is A Ten Remix
by PeteRock

some signs you are not a 10

... if you wear leggings as pants. leggings were not meant to be worn as pants, no one looks cute with camel toe, even in a pair of killer heels. fashion etiquette states that while wearing leggings one's shirt/blouse etc.. must be covering the ass. even if you don't subscribe to fashion etiquette, look in the mirror.

... if you are a dutty chick. we are all asking you to bathe, wash your hair, comb your hair, clean your room, bathroom etc... you can't play clean forever, eventually the dirt will shine through.

... if you are a loud ass brawling chick. there is a difference between being loud and outgoing, having fun with your peeps (like my loud ass), and being the one who feels everyone needs a cussin', or that your phone convo is sooo amazing the whole building needs to hear it. you are not cute.

... if you insist on wearing and carrying the latest name brand everything, but your ass is catching the bus. the money you spend on the brands you can save up and buy a car. this however cannot be said about those who live in big cities which do not require you to drive, hence the second part...

... if you insist on wearing and carrying the latest name brand everything, but your ass is still living at home. the money you spend on the brands you can save up and live on your own, this can be said anywhere.

... if your pussy is a sample. sexually liberated is cute, very sexy, however screwing any guy who breathes your air is not. your pussy is not a sample, it's important to the survival of the human race, treat it as such.

... if you wear heels you are unable to walk in. please stop it. and wear your size. if your pretty little ankles cannot support the shoes, don't wear it, because men and women will laugh at you, some will point. okay okay.... i will point.

... if your weave looks like crap. enough said.

... if you carry around negative energy everywhere you go. please go away. that shit is contagious, and no one wants to be around you and those who do are exactly like you. misery likes company, but very few people like misery, because she's not cute.

... if your so desperate to be liked that you'll kiss everyone's ass and throw honesty to dogs. be yourself, and everyone will see it, and appreciate it. insincereity is obvious and it will throw you under the bus everytime.



nablopomo: adina howard knows...

>> 11.20.2009

"mmmm mmmm mmmm"

i absent mindedly take a breath to lick the remainder of my juice off the corner of my mouth.
"you so nasty" i remember him growling, as he wiped his pussy juiced fingers on my tongue.
i can sense his eyes closing, as his body relaxes, fingers warm and sticky caress my ass, as my mouth shows him my gratitiude for his dick. his hands wander to my breasts, sensitive nipples cringe from the pain as he small hand fondling his balls, as the other one holds on to to his shaft, up and down, up and down, up.... and..... down......

"kiss me"
i gave his head one last nibble, flicking the tip of my tongue down the hole which brings me my milky gift, i arch my back allowing him full view of my ass. raising my head, i kiss him loooonnnnng and hard. sucking on my tongue, he sticks a finger in my ass and proceeds to finger fuck me.

"do you like giving me head?" he asks, as my chest rises and falls matching his stroke in my nether hole.
"yes" i managed to sigh out, my breath tasting like our sex.
eyes closed.
hole violated.
feeling delicious.

my hands smell like cock, and i don't want to wash it off.



nablopomo: t.i.'s promise

>> 11.19.2009

i have never been the type of chick to be a gold digger. i'm not one to esteem material things above happiness or do they equate in my life. i've been known to leave one man who has 'everything' for a man who has nothing. i don't know, that's just how i've always been, money is not that important to me, never has been, and it never will be.

this song however speaks to the hip hop materialistic chick that could potentially be me. i
imagine having a man, who will give me anything, everything materially i could ever want, i would never be in lack of anything, including late night sex so wet and so tight... but i wonder...would i get that which i desire most?

his heart.
and would i be happy?



nablopomo: just lay it on the line!

>> 11.18.2009

'you're not my girlfriend'

fuck i know! you really don't need to keep reminding me why you don't open up to me, why you're too busy for me, why you feel like you have to 'watch' what you say around me......... what am i doing that's so offensive that you feel the need to remind me what i am not to you?

i'm not your girlfriend. but you want me to be faithful to you? what does faithful even mean when you're in a non-relationship?

"i don't want you fucking anyone else as long as your fucking me" are you being for real?

you claim you wanna break down my emotional walls. you want me to stick around when your ass goes to the army... stick to what? the non-walls we have?

tell me baby, what are you afraid of? i'm not asking you to knight me girlfriend, i'm asking you to be real with me, be open with me, and if this is a waste of time, tell me cause i'll be 30 in 4 years and my ass can't be stuck in 'we're talking'

"whatever this is, is going to go nowhere" and i meant that. there is only so much a grown ass woman can take. i told you 'i'm here', but now that i think about it, where the fuck is here? almost a year "if that's how you want to look at it, ok?" ... almost a year and i'm standing in the middle of nowhere, half expecting leatherface to show up and chainsaw my ass would serve me right. this is clearly my punishment for liking younger men.

*sigh* i invite you to every event my ass is going, and you make me feel like i'm the hunchback of fuckin notre dame, hiding me, not bringing me anywhere (not counting the baseball game baby) 'i don't want my friends to know what i have'.

honey, it seems like what you want, what you have is a fuck friend.

(written in the heat of female frustration and hornyness, i would have probably written it differently tomorrow)



nablopomo: i don't want a fly guy

>> 11.17.2009

i love men. (well i like girls too) but i love men.
i'm completely bi-polar when it comes to the keepers of the cocks though. as you read (hopefully) in an earlier post, there is a special place in my heart for thugs. hard knock lifers, men who smell like hope, fear and the streets, tattooed brothers who don't give a shit! yup, i love me some thugs. on the other hand, i am forever in love with geeks, awkward men who don't know what to with with an ass if it sat on their face (tehehehe).

short pants, white socks, short sleeved button shirts with ties. i love them pocket protectors! LOL. eyes in books, think criminal minds...dr. spencer reed.

there is something about a nerd that turns me the hell on. i guess it's because i'm very aggressive, both in personality and sexually, and the thought of turning a man out, and helping him embrace his inner freak is very appealing to me. but even on a relational level there are times when i don't wanna deal with pussy chasers, the confident men who think every girl wants to smell the sweat on their chest. the kind of man i have to worry about (there i said it), and it's true, i get tired of convincing myself i trust your pretty boy ass, with your waves and shit, when really i don't trust you and your man of the world attitude.

i mean damn it! i'm a huge geek myself, and there are days when i want to just chill out at home (NOT wearing a snuggie), and have a Lord of the Rings marathon.

shy, geeky men have an appeal that confident men don't have. and that will get me everytime.



ladies, sexy, freaky, inhibited, shy, it's important for us to know our bodies and become aware of how it responds to sex. not only what we feel, but the biology of it.

men, cock strong, freaky, unexperienced, timid, you should also know your woman's body, there is more to sex than you/we realize.
ladies and men... know your partners body, pleasure is enhanced when you know what to do to achieve maximum results *winking*

if you haven't figured it out as yet, I LOVE SEX! not only the practictial, but also the scientific and biological. i was studying to be a sexologist for a few years, and i'm also a research freak. so to feed my need, but to also hopefully educate us, i will be embarking on a weekly blog posting of sex tips. i just love encouraging people to embrace their inner freak, inner sex pot, to fall in love with our bodies and to be confident in knowing what we want.

ouhhh, this could get interesting. *grinning*. i'm looking forward to hearing your ideas, comments, and any questions you may have.



nablopomo: fuck my fears!

>> 11.16.2009

i have dreams. but my dreams aren't worth shit unless they become my reality.
i have fears... damn right i have fears! but my fears propel me to make a fool of my insecurities.
life is not life, unless life is lived.
fuck my fears, i'm gonna live!
dreams, meet my reality.


nablopomo: realize that i need love too

>> 11.15.2009

i'm a habitual cheater. i've always cheated. that's the only thing that's consistant in my relationships. i can see through all the bullshit, i know all the excuses, i know enough to know that there are no excuses.

love has shit to do with being unfaithful, a lot of men and women will say ' i love him/her...but '. there is always that but.... damn but!... cheating is a crime of opportunity/boredom. plain and simple. strip away all the layers and at the bottom of it is boredom, you aren't getting what you need from your significant other, there is always someone else willing to give it you, and the opportunity will always present itself. are you strong enough to stand against it? are you able to put the gnawing feelings of disatisfaction aside? the lonely nights of pump, pump, snore when what you really need is biting, licking, fucking?

i'm guilty of emotional cheating. i've cheated physically a few times, but mostly i'm an emotional cheater, more times out of boredom, sometimes out of lack of attention.

if you're showing me that you have no time to talk to me cause you're too busy, i'll call someone else, after getting shut down a few times. i'm calling you because i want to talk to you, because i want to share my day with you, my thoughts, my feelings, random shit, i want to share it with you. but you tell me you can't talk now....crapness. i'll call someone else at 5 in the morning then. and best believe there will always be some other dude or chick ready to hear all the things i should be telling you.

and that's the honesty about it. if i'm making the effort and it's not being reciprocated, truss my pretty ass fingers are dialing someone else's number...straight.

i'm not ashamed to say that i need attention, shit i have a short attenton span. i send you naughty pictures, slutty text messages, i shake my ass on webcam for you, to keep my ass from getting bored and what do you do for me?....*crickets*.... i need the phone calls, and the text messages, emails.... i don't need to be coddled, i'm a grown ass woman, but it would be nice to know that you are there and we are us. ...

do i want to stop. yes i do. it's unhealthy. and i don't want to hurt the one i'm with. but baby, i always try and make myself available to you when you need me, when i tell you i need you, listen to me, because there is someone out there who is needing me.

i try to be.... but i'm not that strong.



my week in texts

: india arie and muzik soul child- “chocolate high” that’s the trak, that’s our trak, period that’s my word.

: i can’t shake you, still want you in more ways than 1 “addicted to your chocolate high” it’s that simple, speakin for myself though, can’t speak for you.

: i was wonderin when i was gonna get some blog time lol, thanks it was kool, i liked it. Keep blogin, still love you.

: yo, you commin over?

: the greek god is good. I’m so into him that it’s sad, i have a dinner date with him this week....but i’d rather just eat him. Lol.

: i did a taste test with my hand.

: here you go putting pictures in my head again.

: took in your blog, birthday sex was tuff.....kool, nosy cause it caught me, inspiration for birthday sex came from where for you? Again let me add written very well lol.... for real was that yesterday?

: “gasp” how provocative, but can you blame him when all you tweet about is sex related? Lol.

: hahaha awe, at least your pipes aren’t rusty.

: i feel like kicking it, but i’m supposed to go to this Gucci social party.

: i told you, you were the only one i wanna be with, and just be with you and focus on you, and all now i’m still waitin on an answer, so it’s clear you don’t want me.

: nope far from it, like i said just changing the strategy, not gonna run in the dark when i got a flashlight in my pocket.

: i would never use sex to win a woman’s heart, i’m good not that amazing, lol, but it’s not all about sex for me.

: do you wanna see me jerk off?



nablopomo: perfection moving

>> 11.14.2009


nablopomo: just me (and my hair)

>> 11.13.2009

a little over 3 years ago, i made one of the biggest decisions in my life. it was one of those big ones that required thought, and tears, and maybe i shouldn'ts, it was definitely not one of my just do it! moments.

yup... i went natural.

i traded in the all day outings at the hair dresser, the relaxers, the burned scalp, the security and the cute flipped hairstyles for my natural texture. my curls, my fear, my confidence and my heightened sexuality. i must admit there are days when i look at my hair pulled into a cheek bone revealing puff and i think to myself 'i miss my straight hair'. i stare at my face, the face which puzzles so many people "where are you from?", and i remind myself that i am not my hair,

but i am.... well kind of....

in a way i have become my hair. natural, without lies, complex (who am i kidding, i was always complex), attention grabbing (who am i kidding there too?). i just love walking into a spot and being one of the only women rocking her hair. and i do mean rocking, because it is fabulous, i am fabulous and fabulosity can't just be wtf? you gotta rock that shit! loud and proud! ( i just recently dyed the back half burgandy), and sexy as hell. " your a freak aren't you? " apparently being a poet and a natural woman equals down to earth, freak.. it was a triple whammy when i was a vegetarian.

i never realized how much men black, and white love natural hair, love to feel the texture, love to smell it even. a man seems to really appreciate the beauty of the unrulyness of my hair. as poetry guy says, and i quote "i wanna fuck her hard enough that her hair will get so nappy, i can't run my finger's through it"... yes baby, i'm sure.

don't get me wrong, it was hella hard. i am very high maintenace. not gold digger high maintenace, i just like to look good, so going from straight, always done, hair to hair i didn't know what to do with, was like me throwing myself in front of a slow moving train, and not being able to run, nowhere! but i've fallen in love with my hair, this is one time that i thank God for the diversity in my genes (so called 'good hair'), i can go from straight to curly anytime i want. i rock mohawks, fohawks, chiney bumps, french braids, twist outs, wash and go's, and the almighty puff! however i cannot rock an afro! (i don't have the texture for it...sigh). plus i have saved soo much money, it hurts my feelings knowing the trips, and shoes, and purses, and bills, i have spent on my hair. damn!

do i want to go back, no.... well sometimes, but even if i did, there are a dozen people who would kill me before i sat in the hair dressers chair. i made the choice to come over, not because i'm going back to africa, or because i'm joining the cause, but simply i wanted a change. and i'm making the choice to stay. i am not my hair, my hair is a manifestation of who i am. i am me.

teheehehee, plus i love to feel a strong firm hand with a firm hold on my coils jerking my head back to ask me 'do you like that'.
for all my napptural sistahs, or those wanting to do it check out this website, it's helped me and i hope it will help you.


nablopomo: dancehall dance session.

>> 11.12.2009

i love reggae music, dance hall reggae and i am whining to the floor, give me my stripper pole please and thank-you. and if you ask me, as a jamaican i would be the first to say that jamaicans are very creative and a sexually charged people when it comes to dancing and creating dances. (hence my inate stripper pole), i will also be the first one to say we come up with some stupid ass dances (most of which i can do, but that's not the point).

this is one of the dances that i absolutely love and whenever i hear this it makes me wanna find a reggae jam in a swamp. GULLY CREEPA! can't you just see usain bolt doing his victory dance all over again!




nablopomo: birthday sex

>> 11.11.2009

i looked up and my toes were curled up against the car roof. and i thought to myself 'how the hell did i get here?'

'so how is your blogging going?'
'good, i am really getting the hang of it, i really love it'
'i'm proud of you, getting those awards and stuff, even though i won't read it, i know your a good writer, and i'm proud of you'
'aww, thanx babe that's really sweet blah blah blah blah blah'
*sideways glance* 'oh i'm sorry, i feel really bad you could be pouring your heart out to me right now, but all i'm thinking about is sex'

and then my world exploded as he entered me. (that's always been my favorite part, the almighty entrance). my pussy drenched my ass crease as i grabbed a hold of him so tightly he moaned in anger 'you're gonna make me bus!' stroke, stroke, thrust, thrust, our hips danced to the music of our lust 'arghhhhh' he groaned as my prize filled my womb, hot and liquidy i wouldn't let go of him 'keep going baby, don't stop!'

as we drove along the streets of my favorite city, on our way back from an event he made sure he tasted my lips at every stop light, cars soon got tired of driving behind us and sped up ahead, only to get a glimpse of his perfect lips hungerly devoring my breasts. 'baby go, the light is green'

and he didn't stop. he kept going and and my world spun as stream after stream of satisfaction entered me. 'fuck you *****, i love your fuckin pussy', and we rose higher, night turned into day and happiness merged into sorrow only to find ecstacy. 'suck my nipples, suck 'em' and i did, i licked and nibbled and sucked his beautiful nipples as his throaty groans told me to keep going. he kept going working my body, releasing his pent up anger, frustrations, and stresses. and i was there to recieve them, to recieve him and to keep him warm 'arghh, what are you doing to me, you're soo wet'

we arrived in his city hungry for food and for the other's sex. i wanted a burger he wanted my pussy. since he was driving, he got dibs. 'how about here?' 'sure, as long as no hook wielding maniac tries to kill us' '***** stop your foolishness'

his now soft and spent perfectly curved dick slipped out and he took a deep breath. 'i want some more' i said, 'your not the only one' 'i want to watch you jerk off' kinda surprised he didn't ask for head, cause he usually does. i leaned back, leg hanging on the passenger seat head rest, the smell of sex filling the air and watched his perfect fingers stroke and rub my juices all over his juicy head, i licked my lips and shivered 'baby, put on the heat'

we climbed into the back seat and undressed, i grabbed two pillows and placed them underneath my head and we slowly mashed our bodies together. long needy kisses were executed with care as he caressed the body he admires. he took time and told each breast he missed them. he spoke to them in fluent tongue and they responded hard and erect loving the attention. 'i've been waiting so long to feel you again' i murmered as he played with my kitty. his fondling of her were met with drips as my pussy recognized her lover.

i lifted up my aching body and bent over to turn the ignition. i could feel him staring at my ass, light skinned and gleaming in the darkness. 'mmmm' he said as he grabbed first one cheek and then the other. 'mmmm' he said as his fingers scooped up the juice running down my legs and rubbed it on his cock still shiny from our fucking. 'ahhhhh' i yelled as he purposefully inserted a finger and began to paint my pussy walls. 'another finger' i gasped. what color, i didn't care cause i was filling that parking lot with my nature cries 'why do i sound like that?' i thought to myself. i had never felt like this before, sounded like this before. i was a slave to his fingers. i dipped my ass and squeezed my eyes, i had to piss....hard....i was cumming.

he lightly kissed my stomach and said 'you want me to go down on you?'. 'no' i said 'not in the back of my car' (thinking of the cleaning bill). he parted my legs and looked at my pussy 'mmm' his eyes glazed over and my world exploded as he entered me.

oh shit! i was cumming. 'baby stop, stop!'
'what! why!? ughhh, now i'm soft again' i tried to gasp for air. 'it was pleasing me to please you, hun i just want to please you.' he said playing with his now softening cock. ' you did, baby you did'
i love when he doesn't listen to me. my ass was now drowning in my pussy juice and it joined the plethora of smells in the car. 'i have never been finger fucked like that before' he looked at me sheepishly and said shyly 'thank you' i laid down and spread my legs once more i looked at his cock and said 'i want some more'. 'i want to finger you' he replied. my body began to tingle as if on cue and i asked him 'how do you want it' he stared at me intensely....

'how do YOU want it'

he postioned himself on top of me, and began to kiss the source of his joy, 'i'm gonna play with your clit...ummmm... how does that feel?... tell me you like it.

'i like it' i whispered.

pushing his throbbing fingers smoothly inside my now swollen and red pussy he went straight for the g-spot and told her stories of sunsets and sandy beaches, rose petals and.... what the fuck?! a volcano!

'tell me how much you love it!' he demanded.

she exploded... 'baby' i wailed 'stop, oh my gosh stop, i can't take anymore.... it's too intense.... i can't breathe'. i had to piss sooo bad. my body was convulsing and my legs were shaking beyond my control.

'please *****, don't stop me. i want to make you cum'

pain so sensationally sweet was sweeping over my body and fear gripped my heart. his fingers became whirlwinds inside me, and my g-spot was singing for his pleasure. the car was filled with the sound of my pussy being filled with juices, and i had to piss.

'baby, stop, please stop' and i pushed his hand away.
what the fuck was i afraid of? everytime i'm about to squirt, i yell uncle.

he kissed me softly and smiled.
'the next time you try to stop me, i'm not going to listen'
i sighed. high off the adrenaline rushing through my vains. my pussy mad as hell at me for not allowing her to give him what he wanted.
'i know baby'

i looked at him and grinned, sleep already taking a hold of me. 'this is defintely blog worthy'

.kisses. (happy birthday ;)

Find more videos like this on HOLLYHOODHDTV.COM


nablopomo: is the 'd' detroit?

>> 11.10.2009

this national blog posting month is more exhausting than i had imagined. especially since i wanted to be extra and choose a theme for myself which is my favorite songs and the stories behind them in my life.

no doubt it has sparked my juices and has allowed me to talk about my favorite subject being sex, because music has a lot to do with my sexuality and experiences. mind you, the whole month won't be about sex, i'm not that one dimensional, but for me music and sex are bff's.

so i'm going to post this video, because it is one of my all time favorites, not because it's good, but because it's bad.... and not naughy bad.... oh no... just plain bad.

a big shout out to kween and butterfly effect for embarking on the challenge also.



nablopomo: 69th post. "call it music to my ears headphones"


this is my 69th post. which is amazing. so in honor of this milestone i will share some sexual facts about me.

1. i love to give head. men (and women) seem to think i'm automatically good at it because i have thick 'juicy lips'. but i rarely swallow because the cum hurts my stomach.
2. i love to be fingered.
3. i love to have a finger in my ass while having sex.
4. one the most memorable sex i had was with prince a. i was 15. we were in his van in someone's drive way and it was rocking back and forth, so it gathered a crowd. he was slightly embarassed, but i loved it.
5. i love to be choked during sex.
6. i love to have my pussy eaten. especially when fruit is involved.
7. my mouth is very foul during sex.
8. i'm very loud, i want everyone to hear me get it.
9. one of my fantasies is a rape fantasy and the thought of it gets me drenched every time
10. i sometimes envy men who have the job of 'virgin taker'
11. i'm a biter and scratcher. i want everyone to know i molested your body.
12. i love to have my toes sucked.
13. when i masturbate i sometimes watch black women tribbing.
14. i love to listen to smooth jazz and hip hop during sex.
15. blind fold me, and tie me up. PLEASE!
16. i love to come home smelling like sex, i won't even shower it off. i love falling asleep smelling like juices.
17. i love men, but i won't fuck everyone. my pussy is not a sample, i'm not costco.
18. i love to kiss. kissing is a simple pleasure that is an instant turn on, and i will never take someone's lips for granted.

thank you to all who continue to read my blog and kiss me with your comments. i really appreciate it.

p.s. this song is on constant repeat on my ipod ;)



must watch video - ninjamaica

>> 11.09.2009

to all who need a smile, a laugh, or a belly bust this is for you. this goes out to my fellow island people especially.
thanks to bus driver for sending me this... watch it



nablopomo: my old man taught me how to keep her, eat her...

>> 11.08.2009

so, i absolutely love to have my pussy licked. i love to hear the sound of his tongue lapping up my juices, the sensation of his teeth nibbling on my clit, erect from anticipation.

i love the smell of her filling up the room, as he tickles my nipples, and draws circles around my belly button, eyes looking up at me asking 'do you like'. the smell of her filling up his nostrils, i want to be all he can see, taste, hear, smell.

i adore his adoration of me, as his tongue makes love to me, caressing my walls and trying it's best to mimic history's expectation of us.

and i love him gulping down my milky cum. i've told you before 'my milk will do your body good'
and he feels good knowing he's pleased me, knowing he caused me to scream and shout, arch my back and touch heaven, legs wrapped around his torso drawing him closer into what he loves, knowing that his tired tongue and sticky fingers were what i needed.

and i love him loving me lick off his milk moustache.


p.s. this song is NOT by trey songz, some guy used his name to acquire his fame.

MySpace Music Playlist at


poetry will be the death of me...a challenge

i first started this blog mainly to post my poetry pieces, because poetry is my first love. i've always been told that i was born to be a writer, i have a way with words, and always got wicked marks in english class, so it was no surprise to me or anyone really, when i met poetry and fell madly in love with him. he wooed me and took me, and night after night his juices would flow through my pen unto the page and i felt something i had never felt before when i was with him...freedom.

but poetry slowly showed me his true colors. and he became like a bad boyfriend, he would love me, and then leave me. tell me he needed me, and i would show him how badly, how oh so badly i needed him, but he would always leave me. and in those moments of writer's block i began to question my talent and my authenticity as a poet. i would go though all the normal emotions, sadness, hate, denial, hate, indifference, until i came to the point in which i didn't want poetry to come back to me, in fact at night staring at the empty page i would tell him 'leave me the hell alone, i don't want you'.

but poetry always came back to me, and i always let him in. i need poetry, words are the air i breathe, anything i do, i do it for words. if i can't write, there is no reason to live. he is my only one true love, everything, everyone else is a third wheel.

he's been gone a few months now, the last poem i wrote was hollywood draggin, (read it here).
the last piece i performed was 'i make love to words' (see it here) but i'm use to the cycle now. and i eagerly look forward to his return, his ink flowing deeply through my mind, massaging my heart and exploding through my fingertips, pen dripping our life unto the page.

i will continue to post some of my older pieces, until he blesses my bed again.

here is one of the poems i wrote when poetry first seduced me almost 4 years ago. dedicated to you my sincere followers.

I speak poetically to those who stimulate me intellectually,
so as i speak poetically to you
feel free to get on your knees and drink in the juice of my serenity
that springs eternally from an infinite flow.
My core sweetness, my honey is words,
words that sweeten and roll on your tongue making you cum....
forth with words of your own, thoughts of your own,
beautiful phrases that spring from your stream of worth
and merging with mine we...... ride..... in a sea
of sweet rythm and time filled with words that speak poetically.

so here is a challenge.

people have a hard time figuring out what hollywood draggin is about, so if you can guess it correctly (by tuesday midnight), you can ask me up to 10 questions that i will answer honestly, no holds barred. it's not much, but it would be interesting to see what people want to know about me.

those who know me personaly are definitely excluded.



my week in texts

: would you be down to touch yourself on the cam for me?

: funny thing is, there's things that pop in my mind to say to you, but i don't wanna be a apart of the men that seem to be currently pursuing you, lol, i'm serious.

: your so horney that i can hear it in your voice, i don't see see why you just don't cum check for me and done, unless you have another reason why that's a bad idea.

: the heart beat is the sound of life, it's joy, hope, fear, disappointment, pain, happiness and the power to dream, all the emotions that make us all....

: it was really to bring you to see how things run (the studio)... it may spark your juices, if it won't i will.

: your famous in my eyes ;)

: that's kool, i'm real proud of you 4 real, keep up the good work, keep bloggin. i meant everything i said in a im not your dad kinda way. 4 real keep it up!!

: there's this woman that sits next to me, i literally want to stab her with a rusty knife....omfg she fills the entire office with her negative stank ass energy and bad vibe ugh.

: crazy old lonely cat lady...she's always gwanin bout her 2 pussy cats... like STFU

: not playin with you, i'm being serious, i miss you being stupid wet for no reason...for real i miss the way your face looks when you sit on my dick for the 1st time, that shits sexy.

: nothing as long as it involves your presence, honestly just even kick it... i miss seeing your thick lips and cherry cheeks, been too long.



nablopomo: you make me wanna hershey's kiss your licorice

>> 11.07.2009

i met smooth my 2nd last year in high school. he walked into the cafeteria one day like he owned shit. but he didn't scare me.

"hi my name is (*****)"
"what's up i'm (*******)"
"what school did you come from?"
"st. augustine, i'm here to play ball"

he was acting like he didn't want me, and that threw me off... for a second. but i fell instantly in love with his big brown eyes. this dark chocolate man with light brown eyes stole my heart as i ate my fries (with ketchup and mayo dip). i turned to my girlfriend and told her 'i'm going to marry him'

a grade older than me, he made his move a while later causing instant envy at this outsider who captured the prettiest girl in the school. this tall basketball player, who ran the school was the sweetest man i ever dated. i remember times he would comb my hair in the cafeteria, walk me to my bus before going to play ball, and when my school uniform sweater got torn, he sewed it up for me. he waited almost a year to have sex with me, without pushing me, and when he did he was so nervous

'this pretty light skinned girl is in my bed wanting me to take her',

and once he did i was addicted. and he was too.

'you give the best head i've ever had' while his leg was shaking.

when he finally kissed my kitty "i don't do that", his big strong hands lifted up my leg while he bathed me, he sat down on the tub ledge and his virgin tongue timidly entered my pussy.

this nigga who resembled curtis jackson, but was in no way a thug had me wrapped around his finger. seeing him in a fitted, baggy jeans and a tshirt had my mouth salivating. the very smell of him made my pussy wet and i stole moments with him whenever i could. giving him head in doorways, riding his cock any chance i got. fucking him when his family was home, making him bus again and again. his touch on my arm would cause my knees to buckle, and his kisses caused shivers to run up and down my spine. we spent many days and nights locked together in mutual sweat, all sex funky and there was no where else i wanted to be.

damn. i loved him soo much.
we went through so much together. and when i told him i (think) i liked girls one thanksgiving, he said 'i love you, and i'm going to stay with you through this, but now i have to worry about you leaving me for a girl'

6 1/5 years we were together, and although we are no longer together we are still best friends. he reads my blog, and doesn't question me about it, i offer him my body whenever he needs it. i know he has my back no matter what, and i will always be his ride or die.

baby, this song has always reminded me of you, and it still does.



nablopomo: stripper poles and 94' hondas

>> 11.06.2009

okay, don't laugh but i'm a car dancer. a total car dancer arms, neck, grinding, whining and all, which may look a little odd because i dance like a stripper.

this is my favorite car dancing song.


The Dream Rockin' That Thang
by benorel


more awards *blushing*

40 followers and i'm loving being a blogger. the freedom to write and share and be honest is such a high, i love being able to stretch my writing skills, and i have many thanks for those who consider me 'a fav blogger'. *blushing* kisses.

thank you to eddie for nominating me for the honest scrap award (again) and to the af girls for awarding me the honest scrap and the kreativ blogger award.

since i've gotten the honest scrap award 4 times now, i'm going to let that one rest and just pass on the kreativ blogger award.

for the kreativ blogger award i nominate:

:: callalily

here are 10 creative things about me, and 10 (very) honest things about me

:: i am a poet
:: i used to play the piano and the trumpet
:: i have very eclectic musical taste
:: i love smooth jazz and most of my poetry are written when listening to it
:: all of the men i've dated so far are either musicians, rappers, or writers
:: i love to color (in coloring books)
:: my sister and i make up songs about the most random shit on the spot complete with harmonies
:: i have my own personalized greeting card business.
:: i love to cook (but i don't)
:: i have a talent for event decorating

:: i am 5"2.5
:: my hair is natural with the back half dyed burgandy red
:: i'm a redskin (lol)
:: my daddy is a pastor but i've 'backsliden' as we say
:: i've had 4 lesbianic experiences, my first one being with someone in my family
:: i love sex. and i'm (extremely) sexual.
:: i have a weakness for purses and shoes.
:: i'm a huge geek. i read the dictionary, and do crosswords.
:: i have very bad eyesight.
:: i hate public washrooms.



i could smell her presence in my bed,
her thighs wet with what i wanted to taste.
i could feel her life flowing around my room
lavender incense and a cool breeze teased my senses as i copped a feel
and she felt good.

already erect nipples welcomed the tips of my fingers as moans began to articulate,
i walked the mounds of her breasts stopping to lick my fingers and bathe them in my sweet saliva.
i knew what she liked.
she liked skin rubbing on skin. tongues in her navel. nibbles escalating into bites. dirty voices saying dirty words.

i grabbed her ass, taking my time to remind my hands how they felt in them.
soft. smooth. her juices flowing down the center of the beauty.
she knew what to do next.

(i knew she was already sore from the night before,
but she gave in to me, because i know what she likes.)

her ass greeted the air as my fingers slipped in underneath her.
she grinding the bed.
me with a wicked smile on my face as her hips moved in time to whatever music she wanted to hear.

..............i felt, heard, smelt her climax as she thrusted one last time.

i licked the juices i worked so hard to achieve.
i've tasted it before, it has become one with my system,

i had fun with my best friend today.

i am my own best friend.



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