Friday, July 17, 2009

The Introduction

Behind the Meaning of Niecy Blue

Blue is a reference to early vintage porn films. Before the 1980's, secrecy was common in the distribution and viewing of pornography and erotica. Sometimes vintage "blue" movies, as they were once called, were shown at special late night screenings in commercial theaters after the crowd had been checked and the doors locked. Few if any underground retro flicks before the 1970's feature Black women, so certainly race was a factor in considering what was beautiful or even tasteful. But we did have Josephine Baker, Eartha Kitt, Billie Holiday, and a serious history of brown burlesque houses that thrived in urban cities during the 40's and 50's. Your granddaddy might have a story or two about creeping out to catch a show. Sex is nothing to be shy about. Fittingly, Niecy is an intelligent, modern day 30-something Black woman with a thing for sex with reckless abandon and vintage lingerie: corsets, stockings, garters. All that good stuff!

In an effort to define themselves as more than the stereotypical Black female often depicted in media, I believe many sisters suppress their sexuality much more than they will admit. We do it to appear more desirable as wife material. We do it with feminist angst to proclaim that we are about much more than our bodies. We do it to differentiate ourselves from those that completely allow their selves and their bodies to be disrespected leading to degradation. But there is a way to express healthy sexual desire and it is something that should be celebrated in a woman... think Oshun. But it requires mutual respect, trust, and lots of openness. Do we have this in our relationships? How open are you? Repression of sexual exploration and desire is a problem. As much as I believe sexual behavior is a private, sacred act, I think the Black community still has much opening up to do in our personal lives. It seems we are always over-intellectualizing sex or over-indulging. Can we settle somewhere in between? The Adventures of Niecy Blue is a journey through ALL OF THAT. Niecy's favorite quote: "I wasn't really naked. I simply didn't have any clothes on." - Josephine Baker. The Adventures of Niecy Blue is simply that, an adventure. I have to warn NOT try this stuff at home. Appreciate erotica for the art it is.

If you like what you read here, please email me at so I can add you to my mailing list. My hope is to distribute my first collection of short stories to this very private list. It will be a limited edition run distributed to a distinctive audience and I will be selective. Crowd checked. Doors locked. Enjoy!

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

now what...

Several months and many multiple orgasms later, we were still at it. It was becoming difficult though. He had sexed me and held my hand 'til I cried, sexed me on the rooftop under the stars, in the hallway and in the stairwell. We hadn't seen a bed in months, going for it in public places late at night while tight and restricted minds slept. It seemed to me the bedroom was too intimate a place for him, opening the door for too much sentimentality. He didn't disagree but the reason he gave was the need to do things a bit unconventionally. Of course I was all for that.

Three times he tried to break things off. We kept coming back for more. He swore I wanted more. I swore I was happy and enjoying the ride. I was. But was he also right? I was tired of coming back to the same space. Why couldn't he open up? I tried hard to remember all his words, everything he told me. He never swayed from his position. I'm just not there had become his mantra.

I did my best not to place any expectations on him. I deserved more than what he was giving he said. Who and what is better than you I shot back. He felt guilty and uncomfortable. To him, it was only fucking. I didn't really believe he felt that way. Almost a year later, really? We're just fucking. I hated how that sounded. That's it, really? If he had any deeper feelings, he never shared them. I was trying to take things day by day. He kept up with his mantra and I knew as every grown woman does, you can't sex a man into loving you. Still, there was something about these sessions that I could not begin to describe to anyone. This was the furthest we'd ever made it.

I went to see him once more. Gave him some ridiculously good head until he told me he had nothing left. I was left high and dry. Well, not exactly dry. Just because he had nothing left didn't mean the same for me. On the stairwell, I sat with my legs spread and massaged my clit while he stood watching in front of me. I inserted my finger and dug deep inside, getting lost and forgetting where I was or that he was even there. Over and over I took my finger out and put it in my mouth, loving the taste of my own pleasure. I never did it like that before in front of him. But it was fun to watch his mouth fall open. Afterwards, during our goodbyes, I lingered and held him closely. He couldn't get with the closeness of my post-coital embraces and said he hoped I understood. I didn't but told him I respected it if that's where he was and shrugged off the questions festering inside me. He politely walked me to my car.

The next day I had a dream that an unknown woman was standing near my car parked in a lot. She told me that I had some dead body parts stuck in the undercarriage of my car. I acted like I didn't know what she meant. But I did know. I knew I had hit something but when I looked under the car I couldn't see anything so I pretended there was nothing there.
"Really?" I said to the woman.
She reached under the car and pulled back her hand, covered in blood.
"See," she said. Then she tried to remove the body parts but it was too hard for her. I vaguely saw an arm and matted blonde hair from a decapitated head. "It's no big deal," the woman said to me. "But you've got to pull it out. If you can't do it, you need to get someone to help you. Do it now, so that it doesn't cause you problems during a time when you are most happy." I assured her I would and she went away. I woke up and called a distant friend I hadn't spoken to in ages but one who knew me well. I told her about my dream and my dilemma.

"You've never really been loved by a man, sis." she said flat out, but gently. "So you don't even know what you're missing.

I paused to think about that for a moment. I had some good memories with a sweetheart or two (or three) but it was true. None of them had ever shown me the love that I saw and admired in others. I always assumed that every relationship had its challenges.

But despite all the sex and desire, what we had was not your typical relationship. Or maybe relationships void of intimacy and deep connections were typical in regular American culture. Typical was not what I wanted to be. I admired strong Black love like Ruby and Ossie, Malcolm and Betty, Martin and Coretta. But those were icons, not anyone real that I had known. An ideal type of love would be amazing but I wasn't so sure it existed for real.

My friend continued:

It's a blessing and curse for you to be the way you are. On the one hand, it's good you don't know what you're missing because you're never waiting or searching for that mythical happily ever after love. There are so many miserable women in the world, sitting around waiting and not living. You just take each experience that feels good to you as it comes and go with it. But you must admit to yourself that you want more in this case because you know you do. On the flip side, you need to be honest with yourself and others about what you deserve without feeling like you are demanding something from people you love. It's cool that you are so free. You should enjoy the moments that took you beyond your fears. It's great too that you did it with a friend you could trust, someone who cares about your well being and his honesty is precious, priceless and respectable even if it hurts. Your relationship with him is not over but even he knows you deserve more. Just be fluid.

I had reached new levels of emotional detachment. I genuinely felt happy not worrying about the future. Fine. I'll acknowledge it I thought. I did want more and I denied the truth to him every time. I insisted I wasn't settling. I was respecting his right to be who he was and enjoying his company. New levels of emotional detachment.

My head flooded with questions. Was there something wrong with me for wanting to continue with this "relationship"? What the hell was that lady in my dream talking about? Was it time to stop? What more did I want? I hated having to answer those questions he had been throwing in my face all along. He hadn't hurt me at all. I was more annoyed with myself. Why couldn't I talk to him about this? I had gotten so caught up in the moment I lost sight of everything else. Suddenly, the thick turned thin.

I needed time to think about it honestly for once and not shrug it off in my infamous way. I cancelled my meetings, postponed every discussion, turned off my phone and put some music on. I meditated. I prayed. I sat down in the shower and smoked a cigarette, letting the water fall on my face. Clarity did not come. The only thing that repeated in my head like a broken record was a certainty that I didn't want to stop. Finally, I said it out loud. You want more than he wants to give you. For a moment, I felt deeply saddened. His position had been stated and re-stated. Could I continue having sex with him without love? Still naked and wet, I laid down on my bed listening to the Grey Reverend strum melancholy melodies on his guitar.

I put my hands on my skin and wondered what it would feel like for him touch me the way a man does when he loves a woman. How he looks at her like he adores her. His touch wasn't sexual or ravaging but appreciative and beautiful. I had completely forgotten the feeling but imagined it for the first time in years. I imagined a sense of comfort and warmth and his hands caressing me lovingly.

Damn. That's what you're missing. How can you not know this feeling? You deserve to feel that.

I had to do something to keep the sadness away I felt sneaking in on me but there was nothing I could do. The strength of it surprised me even though it faded quickly. I hadn't foreseen having feelings like this. It was exactly what he wanted to avoid. In my mind, I had mentally prepared myself for any outcome all along but this? I couldn't ignore my feelings anymore.

Great... now what?

I just hoped he didn't say I told you so.

It was the realization that I had never truly known love that upset me most. I acknowledged it and was ready to move on. Now begging my intuition to kick in and tell me what to do. All I could think and feel was that I did not want to stop. Why couldn't I have my feelings and still keep going? Why couldn't I spend the night with his arms wrapped around me? Why couldn't I challenge him? Should I challenge him? No answers came. I decided to let fate decide.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

28 minutes

The leather collar session really took me over the edge. But a woman can never lose her cool. Ever. I’m walking a fine line and must maintain a certain level of cool detachment. It was getting harder to do. There are too many feelings involved now but I don't admit it out loud. Ever. It would ruin everything. I think it’s better to go with the flow. Does every sexual/romantic experience have to lead to some destination? The best ones are the ones that take you by surprise…on a journey. I don't know where this is going. My intentions are to stay in the moment and open myself up to something new and different. Feel free to judge me.

At first, I had been too shy to watch the video footage that he’d been collecting of me. I decided to give him a call and let him know I’d changed my mind.


"What's up?"

"You know that footage you have of me...I think I wanna see it."

"Sure, whenever you want," he laughed.

"So, what's your favorite part?" I asked. "I know you been watchin' it."

"Yeah, I have," he laughed again. "You want me to describe it to you over the phone?"

"Uh huh...which parts are you fast forwarding to," I asked getting hot on my end of the phone.

"I can’t," he laughed sounding like a teenager. "Imma just have to let you see it."

"So far there’s about 28 minutes of footage," he informed me. "But, there is something I’d like to add to it."

"Oh yeah, what’s that," I asked super curiously.

"There’s a scene from a movie I want you to see that I’d like to re-enact."

"Okay...elaborate," I said needing more details.

"You just have to see it," he insisted. "Mostly, I'm ooking to achieve a similar amount of depth and salvia."

Oh boy. It's a porno.

I told him to drop it off. He did. The next day.

"There’s only one scene you really need to watch," he explained. "It’s with a Spanish girl, named Mercedes."

I took the DVD and he explained that he did not expect me to be able to do all the things I’d see but he wanted me to do my best.

"Go do your homework," he instructed half joking, half serious.

I was ever eager and left work for an early lunch break unable to contain my exicitement. I had to watch it. I sat there on my sofa with my mouth wide open and horny as hell in the middle of the day. There was no way I could do what that chic could do. Mercedes, apparently, was something of a deep throat beast, albeit a very cute one. She was taking in men that had to be at least ten inches long and thick all the way down her throat and made gagging noises I'd never heard. When the guy behind the camera asked what she liked to be called, she replied, "Cock-whore is fine," with a shrugg and a giggle. I watched the movie about five more times. It was a skill I've always wanted to master. Though, it would take some time and quite a few practice runs, a few days later, I sent him a text.

Me: Meow…

Him: You got something for me?

Me: I sure do. I’m going to see a movie with my friends. See you afterwards around 11?

Him: Sounds good.

After the movie with my girlfriends, I went home to change into something that would put me in the mood from Frederick’s of Hollywood. Victoria’s Secret is an old favorite. But Frederick’s has a different appeal. Victoria’s is more romantic and nice. While Frederick’s has a dirty slut style that I prefer in private. I'd be shopping around local boutiques and found some beautiful vintage lingerie I'd have to try out on him soon too.

For this session, I decided to wear a sheer blue baby doll and matching lace boy shorts. I liked the way my breasts sat over the pleated bust line and how the color looked against my bronzed skin. I covered myself in a long black scarf wrapped around my neck and shoulders.

When I arrived and took off my coat, it took him to notice I half dressed. I brought with me some incense and pineapple rum and asked him to pour me a glass. I undressed and sat on the edge of the bed while he went to the kitchen and waited. Foreplay and conversation was not necessary tonight. Actually, I like being jumped as soon as I walk in the door. He'd learned this in time.

He came back and I was ready to go. I didn’t come to waste time. He took a seat in a chair in his room. I warmed him up, talking sweetly while I took off his clothes. Then, I dove in and did my thing for what seemed like at least an hour, practicing all that I'd learned from Mercedes. I begged him to cum in my mouth and when he did I kept my mouth open slightly so he could see his juices oozing out onto my lips. I licked them and swallowed. Then, licked my fingers and the extra cum left on my breasts and hands that got away from me. He liked that. I cleaned up and laid down to rest a moment beside him. I wanted to cum. Lying next to him I reached down below, playing with my clit. He told me to grab hold of his dick with my other hand and squeeze him tight. It turned me on so much I came in less than twenty seconds.

He left the room for a while and went to work on his computer while I stayed and slept in his bed. When he came back to the room a couple hours later I perked right up with that insatiable drive of mine. He said he wanted to sleep. He wouldn’t let me cuddle with him for too long saying it was going to keep him up. He wasn’t used to sleeping with someone in his bed and didn’t make a habit out of it. I listened.

I was making a mistake. Getting too comfortable. Invading his space. I should have taken my ass home forgetting that rule my sister told me to never spend the night in the beginning until invited. But I couldn’t resist the urge to infiltrate just a little. I took my arms from around him and put my hand on his leg. Within seconds he was all over me again. I got on my knees and went down on him again. He thrust himself into my mouth deeper and deeper moaning all the while. Then he told me to lie down , pushing my head down. I laid on my side at his waist and he penetrated my mouth, grinding, in and out, loving it. Me taking him as far and as much as it could. It was really good. His moans and intensity gave me power over him. It was the only time he ever submits to me.

God, I love it. Maybe a little too much.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

The Tipping Point

True to form, he made me wait. Keeping this affair uncomplicated is more complicated than I’d like it to be. Mostly, I’m faking it all the way through because I really love this man. It's not about the sex either. I think I actually adore him really. I pay attention to the way he moves, the things, he says, his work and committments. The fact that he was such a fascinating sexual character as well made him simply irresistable. Telling him all that I really feel and think will only make him run away. I resisted the need to tell him, I just wanted to see him. I’d wait patiently but he really gave me no choice. I'd have to let him know how much I appreciated our last session. Come to think of it, it's becoming a habit to call or text him a few days later to remind him there's more to give and get.

I had a glass or two of wine and half a joint the last time I was at his place so my recollection of events was a little sketchy. But I remember mostly that I loved it, like I always do. I couldn't stand waiting anymore. So I commenced another round of dirty text messages.

I told him how much I enjoyed it when he spit in my mouth and how I wanted more. ASAP, he said. ASAP works for me. He didn't seem to need as much enticing as before, just a little gentle coaxing. I waited a day or two more and evening text after work arrived.

Him: Later?

Me: Absolutely.

Him: Ok, what time can you come?

Me: How’s 11?

Him: 11s cool. I need u tipsy as possible.

Me: K

Him: Wear your corset.

Me: K

Him: If you have cigarettes, please bring some.

Me: K

I'd been pacing the floor waiting for that text. But the point is I waited patiently as far as he knew. This night, I'd be equally disciplined. I didn’t drink much. Don’t even think I was even really tipsy. He says when I drink I make more saliva in my mouth. It sounded like another marathon night to me with submission as the theme. So, I obediently had a drink, wore my corset and brought the cigarettes.

I arrived and noticed a few things right off. He was in a fantastic mood, probably because he knew he had something special in store for me. There was a chair in his bedroom, a black leather bar stool, that was never there before. I knew it would be used in some way I couldn’t yet imagine. I turned and sat on the edge of the bed and removed my shoes. Laid out on the bed to my left was a leather collar with a chain leash attached, a red silk scarf and a three various sized dildos.


I think I blushed a little. I was so excited that I let out a little gasp of air to catch my breath. I don’t think he heard it. I could have cared less about the dildos. Those were familiar. It was the unfamiliar that I wanted to know more about. A leather collar? Fingers over lips, biting slightly, nervously…oh my.

The last time I was with him I had worn a shirt with long straps that tied around my neck. Now that I'm sober, I can remember untying them and wrapping the straps around my neck, handing him the loose ends to pull and lightly choke me with. He must have gotten a hint or two from that.

"What’s all that," I asked, pointing to the objects at the other end of the bed.

"Oh that", he said nonchalantly. "That’s for later."

"For later," I questioned. "Oh, you can give it to me right now."

He smiled. "Okay, you want it now," he nodded and repeated coolly.

I started to undress. He put some music on. Kanye. Track 1. Say You Will. On repeat for hours. That night in particular, the song seemed dark and incredibly sexy.

He picked up the collar and walked over to me with it, as I stood nervously in a black corset and lace underwear. He walked closer up on me and put the collar on in the sweetest most gentle way , similar to how a man puts a necklace on around a woman’s neck. I thought I was going to melt on the spot. He moved my long hair gently out the way and strapped the collar tight.

"How does this feel," he asked. "Is it too tight?"

I reached up to feel it around my neck. Since this was my first time with this thing, I figured I should take it easy.

"Yeah, a little too tight," I whisphered.

"Okay," he said sweetly and loosened it some. "Better?"

My head down almost resting on his chest, I nodded. Then he walked back to get the silk red scarf. He tied it tightly across my eyes.

"Can you see," he asked. "I want to make sure you can’t see anything."

I said I couldn’t but managed to pull it up just a little so there was a very tiny space I could peek from underneath. I had to be able to see him.

He let the leash fall to the floor and instructed me to climb up on the bed and lie down.

"I’m not here," he said. "Do your thing."

I knew what he meant. He wanted me to masturbate for him.

I did. Peeking out of the small opening beneath the blindfold, I saw him get his camcorder. I noticed it on the floor when I came in and had a feeling he’d be using it. I had never masturbated for anyone before in this way. I was nervous and too excited. I couldn’t get into it like I wanted. I wanted him all over me. I could see him standing over me, watching me from all angles. He liked to watch me. I tossed the dildos to the side. They could do nothing for me.I wanted him. He knew it and sensed my anxiousness.

He grabbed the leash attached to my collar and demanded me to come to him. "Come here," he growled, pulling me forcefully as he stood at the end of the bed. He's a boss. I loved it. Still blindfolded, I crawled over and felt around to "see" with my hands what was in front of me. I couldn't see anything, I think because he switched the light to red. I sat up on my knees and could feel his chest. I peeled off his shirt, gliding my hands up and down his smooth skin. It was a pleasure to experience him without the benefit of my most important sense. I pulled his sweatpants off and I could feel he was already erect. He wrapped the chain around his fist several times pulling me in, even closer to him. I flicked and licked the head of his penis with pleasure and put my tongue all over him. I didn't miss a single sensitive spot. I caught him slipping at one point...he was wide open. I know what he likes now and I'm learning all his secret places.

I got on my knees. He put the camcorder on me and I performed some more. He never catpures the best parts on tape. He always gets distracted and has to put the camera down. His legs weakened a little and he took a seat on the bar stool. “Is this your throne”, I asked with my mouth wet and full. I spit so much saliva all over his penis it dripped all over my chest and left wet pools on the hard wood floor. I think I heard an encore. He wanted more but first he repaid me. He licked me, fucked me and sucked me senseless.

We took a brief break. He turned off all the lights and we layed in bed close together. But I had an insatiable appetite and went down for more. This time, he made me take my time. He wanted me to take all of him in my mouth which wasn't easy to do. He pushed my head down slowly until he reached the back of my throat. I went all the way down as far as I could possibly take it over and over. I loved it. He pushed me further than I'd ever gone. I did the work. He just made it all possible.

I stayed until the morning and woke up with a sore throat and a few small bruises on my thighs from him manhandling me. It was all so perfect.

Now how I am I supposed to stop? Better still, why would I want to?

Monday, November 10, 2008

Wet Dreams

It seems I've slowed down somewhat. But not by choice. Shortly after The Loft episode, my lover and I had to have 'The Talk'. I initiated it I suppose after asking what the deal was with all the missed opportunities. He didn't seem to want me as much as I wanted him and well, if that was the case, I could always move on. But I didn't want to jump to conclusions. So I stopped texting and picked up the phone. In short, he told me that he wasn't trying to brush me off and I just needed to be patient. He called me a day or two later to make sure I understood where he was coming from.

"If we keep this up for let's say six months, are you going to have expectations of me?" he asked.

I knew what he was alluding to but didn't want to answer. I didn't want to agree to no strings attached sex because it wasn't all I wanted. But damn, it was good. For the moment, I was just enjoying the ride. That's all I could really say. He knows me well. He knows I have feelings for him and to some degree he has feelings for me. Enough to not want to hurt me in any way. But that's all complicated and boring to me.

So far, I've been able to keep my emotions under control. But my body is another story. Every morning, I want him. I'm often late to work because my dreams get the better of me and I can't get out of bed until I cum. It's a stronger need than I've ever had. He satisfies me in ways I can't adequately explain but I'll try. I'm the type of woman that needs to be handled. He forces me to be patient and I'm learning his ways. I wanted him to know mine too.

I was growing tired of his excuses that he had jerked off and was spent, or too tired to see me. One Sunday evening I texted him to let him know this was the last night he could jerk off. I told him he needed to stop wasting what was mine. That he should let it build up and feed it to me at the end of the week. To my surprise, he was obedient, or at least went along with my game. The fact that I could be as nasty as my heart desired with him was a thrill and something I'd never experienced before.

So on the evening of our next rendezvous, I was quite excited. But it had gotten so late. I had waited so long. I'd lost the urge to do some of the things I had in store. I had been brushing up on my Spanish and had a quite a few sexy little things I wanted to whisper in his ear:

Besa me.
Estoy muy mojada para ti.
Lo quiero porque es perfecto y delicioso.
Dimelo mas duro...
Pongalo in mi boca por favor.
Besa mi cuerpo con su lengua.
Ahora, soy es tu dominadora.

I'd have to save all that for another time. I can't even remember the things we did that night...accept for one brand new thrill. I was giving him head like I like to do. He was standing over me and he pulled my head back and then...he slowly spit in my mouth. Wow. He asked first if he could and I agreed. First it was just a little. Then I begged him to do it twice more. I liked it. One more time I said, and this time he really did it. His saliva splattered all over my face and I licked my lips, held it my mouth and went back down on him. He loves his head sloppy and wet. A black woman letting a man spit in her face? No way? Yes, way. It was dirty and the sexiest shit ever! I could have never in a million years imagined doing something like that but I loved it. I think I have what is called, an oral fetish. I love anything that has to do with the lips and tongue.

Still though, I only get these sessions sparingly. It drives me crazy. I'm hoping to hear from him right now even though he said to give him a few days. A few days feels like a month. *sigh*

Sunday, October 26, 2008

The Loft

You'd think I'd have this insatiable appetite of mine under control after a few sessions. But no... I may just be getting started.

Another week passed since the corset session. (That's what I'll call it) But I haven't been able to get it in like I've wanted. Our playtime usually falls on a work day which means no time for marathons. The abbreviated sessions are cool. But what I'm yearning for is for him to touch that second sacral chakra like he did the first time, which requires a much longer session. We've both been busier than usual lately. Now I got my texting habit under control which means I've eased up a little. I'm more patient. But it's still so hard.

He's very sometimey, admittedly. I don't think it's an issue of another woman. Maybe he's protecting his independence and his space. He doesn't want to feel pressured about anything. He knows I'm not known for doing flings so he may be wondering what might come next. Am I going to try and lock him down after a while?? I can sense of all his questions. I feel like he's testing me. But I've got no agenda. I'm just riding the wave...being free...being myself. We've known each other for so many years, why play games? Let's get to the next episode.

I had just gotten off work after an evening event and decided to hit him up and see what he was doing. He was working too. I told him I was headed over there. When I got there it was apparent he was pretty deep into what he was doing. But I waited patiently and helped him out. I really just wanted to see him. I could tell by the way he was looking at me and all around that he wanted to play right there. It probably didn't help that I was wearing lace trimmed thigh highs under my black dress which I made a point of showing him. But the maintenance crew kept coming in and out. About an hour and a half later, we finally finished up and he walked me to my car. It was near midnight. He seemed pretty tired and I knew he had a lot to do the next day so I didn't press.

"Where do you think you're going so fast?" he asked. "I wasn't ready for you to get away from me so soon."

He always looks so sexy to me, especially when he's talking shit. I love it and I always feel safe with him. He's always paying attention.

Since I had just come from an after work party for my job held in a new duplex loft right up the street, guess who still had the keys and security codes?

"Oh, well... follow me," I said. "Since you couldn't make it to the party, I might as well give you a private tour of the building."

I think he said something under his breath about a tour of the building not being what he wanted. But he knew there would be more to it than that.

It was so inappropriate I know...using my place of employment and access to entertain my little freaky desires but regular vanilla sex just doesn't do it for me all the time. Plus, I knew I wouldn't get caught. It would just be this one time. It's spontaneity that I love.

I entered the security code and walked him in. Once upstairs I had to disable the alarm. I didn't feel scared, afraid, or wrong on any level. I'm the smart, rebellious type, truly. And I like the same qualities in men. A conservative type of guy just wouldn't be able to hang. He'd probably start judging me and trying too hard to figure out what my behavior says about my character. It says that I enjoy sex and have an open mind.

Oh, but this one understands. He's carefree and has no concept of judgement.

I showed him around the building and answered his questions about the price, location and features. He liked it a lot. But we didn't have a lot of time for lollygagging. I went into the refrigerator which was still stocked and took out a bottle of white wine. I kicked off my heels and walked over to the staircase, raised my dress a tad and took a seat, handing him the bottle to drink.

"Where do you want me?" I asked.

"You seem to have already picked your spot," he said as I pulled him closer to me.

He untied the string around the inside of his sweatpants and lowered them slowly. My hands were still a little cold from being outside so I had to get to work without hands first. Soon they were warm and I did my thing that I love to do. He nodded in agreement and pushed my head down positioning me to his favorite spots. I love licking and sucking on his testicles and the way he holds my head when he likes where I'm at. (Sidebar: I always feel awkward like I have a dirty secret when women talk about how much they hate going down on their men. I absolutely love it.) He reached inside my dress and rubbed on my nipples before pulling both breasts out to caress.

I kept my mouth open so he could see his cum oozing onto my tongue. I licked the head of his penis and my lips over and over, like ice cream. I had gotten a little cum on the corner of my mouth and wiped it off with my finger to make sure I had every drop. Call me nasty if you want, but I love it as much as he does.
When he cums, he doesn't talk. He just shakes his head 'no more' when he's done. He can't speak but if he could that's what he'd say. Even after he cums I'll keep licking and sucking. But it gets a little sensitive. I have to give him a moment when he puts his hands up in defeat as if I've just arrested him.

This time he said I was disgusting. I thanked him for the compliment. But we had to go. Had to get out of there and get ready for the long day we had ahead.

But he owed me one.

Friday, October 17, 2008

press record

He made me wait so long for session four. After the laundry room episode, I think I started going down a slippery slope. I was texting him every other day. I sent him pictures of me dresssed in a black corset and strappy heels. I know, I know. I admit, I was so pressed and so addicted. I really could have worn his ass out everyday if he allowed it.

"I can't go a week. I really need to see you," I texted.

He claimed he was tired, busy and otherwise unavailable.

Too tired for some good head?? That don't even sound right!

I started to feel a little sensitive about it. But eventually decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. He is a busy guy. I also figured he might have another woman he might be working on. Didn't really care about that though. He'd be back. I tried to be patient. I had gotten a week of sorry, can't tonight messages. I only wanted to hear yes, asap, right away. I told him I understood. No matter what I felt, the next week I decided to resist the urge to call, text, email or instant message. Gchat was the worst. I'd see him online and I'd know he saw me. Another week had passed. No nothing. Why was he being so unresponsive? Was he testing me? Putting me on pause? I was out of practice with this game.

But eventually...he couldn't resist. I don't know why I ever thought he could. I had played my hand well. Two weeks after episode three...another Gchat message. *ping*

I love those. It was funny too because I was at work, in a staff meeting...sitting at the conference table with my laptop when his message popped up. He said he saw me online, caught a flashback and his dick got hard. I had to quickly minimize the window before the co-worker sitting beside me saw it.

We quickly made plans to see each other that evening. I had such a rough day. It began with me getting pulled over for speeding first thing in the morning. 45 in 25. I do like to go fast. I think I was daydreaming about him, anticipating his call and just wasn't paying attention like I normally do. I forgot to put my new insurance card in the car and got a ticket for that too. Two hours later, I got a parking ticket. Shit. At any rate, he was going to make my day all better now.

We sent a few text messages back and forth a few hours before our date. I don't need to hear his voice until I actually pull up to his place. Then I call him and simply say, I'm outside.

But first, I stopped off at a new lounge around my way for a cocktail or two. I promised a girlfriend I'd meet her there to check out the place. I don't need to hang out much anymore but it was packed and I must say I looked pretty good. Midway through cocktail number three, I said Ciao! to my friend and made my way over.

I decided to wear that corset he pretended to ignore. Over it, I wore a black wrap dress I could easily remove. My toenails were painted a dark, black cherry color which looked really nice in my black strappy heels and topped off the look with a nice red Fedora, leaned to the side. He could have cared less what I wore that night but I felt good.

I arrived a little after 12:30am. I sensed he wasn't nearly as intoxicated as I was. He seemed a little tense, serious even. But I was playful. I wanted to keep my hat and heels on but he didn't seem to pay much attention to the details that night. It was my job to soften him up and I couldn't wait to do my favorite thing. I didn't even need any foreplay. It was all about good head. Among my girlfriends, I am the Olympic torch bearing champion, proud, fellatio offerer. Yeah, I am.

With him I think I love it even more in part because he's so much taller than me. I love being on my knees, him towering over me. I have to share a certain connection with a man for this. Once I know there's mutual respect and feel comfortable enough, I'm free to do almost anything.

On this night, he decided to pull out his video camera. I was surprised I had no objections. I liked the fact that he liked it so much, he wanted to play it back later. My best friend strongly disapproved. But it's like I told her, we're very grown and I trust him like I've never trusted anyone. So g'head...tape me. I think I heard a camera go off too. What a compliment. He won't show anyone. I'm certain of it. That was for his own personal collection and I was flattered.

I love the taste of him (and me on him). I know this night was supposed to be a quickie. But I couldn't help myself. I had to give him two rounds of good head. He can't ever leave me hanging again when I need him. I gave him something to remember me. Plus, I just really missed it and him. I'd been a frigid, celibate chic for three years. And damn, it felt good to be his nasty little porn star.

Our session ended after a little dick riding and finger play and he talked to me a little about his hectic schedule. He wasn't just brushing me off. That's cool. I had to go and let him rest but I couldn't stop kissing him. His tongue just felt so good in my mouth. We were going to pay for this in the morning. We both had to get up early. It was nearly 3am. But it was worth it.

He walked me to my car and I clinged on his arm so I wouldn't stumble in my four inch heels, liquor still in my system. But I was ok to drive at this point. He shook his head when he saw my bad parallel parking job. It was pretty pitiful. I had wrecked my right side mirror in the process. I wasn't phased. I know a cute mechanic who will glady fix it for me.

I promised myself I'd watch the drinking and driving. It's not something I normally do and I'd hate to get in an accident. I've been behaving very badly these days. I'm so distracted.

I'm going to need him to straighten me out.

Sunday, October 5, 2008

The Laundry Room

It had been nearly two weeks since session two... twelve days to be precise. I felt like an addict of sorts. He said he'd see me soon but I hadn't heard from him. I knew I would eventually, but when? I was trying so hard to be cool about the situation. I had to fight the urge to call him. I had to play it cool...but this guy... he had me so open. Finally, the day I thought I'd surely give in, he sent a text letting me know he hadn't forgotten about me and we'd see each other soon.

How soon...damn?!

Okay, cool. I had to calm down and chill the f--- out. But it was hard. I went lingere shopping at Frederick's of Hollywood, to the spa to step up my Brazilian game, to the adult toy store to stock up on bedside assessories. I was trippin. Or some might say, just getting prepared.

A couple of my male co-workers commented that something seemed different about me. I swear men can smell sex on a woman or maybe just confidence. My skin was glowing they said. "Oh, I got a facial," I told them, laughing hysterically inside because they didn't know I meant the nasty kind.

Monday through Friday I was focused on the job during the day. But as soon as the sun set, I was a feign again. I could think of nothing else but him. I'm lying, I thought about him all day long. Maybe I need to diversify my portfolio I thought and discussed it with my girlfriends. "Yeah, girl. You better mix that shit up," they insisted.

I tried but the other dudes really couldn't compare. Still I kept a few in the pocket, so I didn't lose perspective. You know, calling incessantly and wondering all the time when I would hear from him. I filled my calendar with dates but most of the guys were truly lame, nice to look at, but lame. There was one or two in the bunch that might serve well as a needed distraction in a pinch. It has hard to spread my energy around so much. Even if I wasn't sleeping with the rest, dating required energy and time. I only wanted to give that kind of energy and time to him.

But I knew who I was dealing with. This man I was so open on, was no monogomous type. Falling in love with him would be good business for my therapist...bad for me. But don't ask the obvious questions. You should already know the obvious answer.

Five days after his text promising to see me soon, I couldn't wait any longer. I had to speed up the process.

"Your version of soon needs work and my naughty streak is not done. Wassup??"

The response I wanted soon came: "2morrow or Saturday?"

I had another date planned for Saturday. But if Friday went well. I'd cancel.

No, no, don't cancel your distraction date. Girl, stay focused! You'll mess around and fall in love. Don't get caught up!

We agreed Friday was set and I was once again like a kid waiting for Christmas. I had hardly been sleeping at night. I've always been a night owl but this was ridiculous. My body literally would not let me sleep. The evening before our next episode, I was wide awake on the computer looking at God knows what, shoes I think. I'm checking my Gmail. Hmmmm....he's awake too and online. 12:27am. He sends a Gchat message:

him: i wish u was here now so i could do with u as i/you please

me: don't play. i might jump in my car and head over there.

him: i wanna put my ____ in ur _____ right now. but we can wait til 2mrw if we must.

me: why must you tempt me?

him: i don't know but i'm serious. u sure you don't mind the slapping and such? cause i keep having visions of man handling u while u handle my dick. almost ready for that ___ to ____ shit u spoke of.

me: oh yes, i don't wanna rush that. yes, let's save that for 2mrw.

him: too much nastiness to repeat

me: sounds good.

him: aight then i'm out. c u 2mrw.

me: can't wait.

him: me neither. wish i could get a sample but okay.

me: i'm tempted to come give it to u.

him: please

me: please? did u say please??? give me 30-40 minutes. i'll call u when i'm outside.

him: okay cool, bring cigarettes.

You see...I couldn't help myself. All that talk about man handling me. It got to me.

So I got ready. Fixed a stiff drink. Took a bath. Lotioned myself nicely. Put on a strapless black shirt dress, black thong, knee high boots, a black overcoat and headed out the door.

When I arrived, he met me at the door and led me to the elevator. I noticed he pushed the down button not up to his 4th floor apartment.

"Down?", I asked.

"Mmm hmm," he affirmed.

He led me to the laundry room and cautioned me the super lived just across the hall. It was late he explained so we'd be okay as long as we didn't make too much noise.

He closed the door. I was happy to see there was a lock on the door but he said it didn't work. My nasty ass didn't even care.

"What you got under there?" he asked motioning to my dress with cigarette in hand.

"Not much," I said.

"Show me," he said standing back as I took a seat on one of the yellow chairs lined up against the wall.

I raised my shirt dress a little and slid my thong to the side to show off my brazilian.

"Pretty, isn't it?" I asked.

He nodded and watched me play with myself with my french-manicured fingertips.

He pulled me all over the laundry room. From the folding table to the washing machine back to the yellow chair. I think I even crawled at one point. I particularly loved being on my knees going down on him. When it got really good to him he'd lean over and smack my ass. He'd bend over slightly pulling himself away from me, knowing I would follow him with my seriously insatiable tongue. He liked when I spit all over him, letting my salivia drip down to his testicles. I'd watch my spit drizzle down and lick it up before it dripped off to the floor. This was playtime for me and I loved it... needed it.

I went home an hour later (a quickie for us since we both had work the next day), feeling high once again.

While getting dressed for work the next day, I noticed three black and blue marks on the inside of my forearm. I put my fingers over the marks and realized they were from his fingers, caused by all the man handling the night before.

Already I was looking forward to the next time.

Saturday, October 4, 2008

Session II

For a week, I sent dirty little text messages to his phone. (really, really dirty) The trip to outer space had sent me into overdrive. Maybe it was a fluke I thought..had to be. I told myself it was the alcohol and the joint I smoked that altered my state of consciousness, played tricks on my brain and had me thinking that night was the best sex I’d had in a long, long time. Maybe I hadn’t experienced what I thought I did. I had to know. Sober sex can sometimes be well…sobering. We both liked it better when we were slightly intoxicated. Needless to say, I was anxious for the next episode.

Using my cell as a conveyer of all types of nastiness, I confessed all the other dirty little things I wanted him to do and left nothing out. I asked him to tell me what he wanted. He didn’t hold back either. He said he wanted to push my limits. "Can’t tell. Gotta surprise you," his message said.

Ooohh, what does that mean?

He asked how I felt about choking (not too hard), slapping and a little bondage.

I think I hit the freak lottery.

I felt high that whole week and couldn’t wait to see/experience him again. My insides pulsated for days like he had put those emergency room revival paddles on my vagina and shocked the shit out of her. She contracted all day long all on her own. I couldn’t even control it. It was like she had awakened from a deep slumber and had a mind of her own. She wanted a lot more.

Finally, he came...this time to my place. It had been raining all day long, still was lightly, when he arrived around 1am.

I answered the door in a pair of black and white pin striped boy shorts and a white button up shirt with the top four buttons undone exposing a black lace bra underneath. He smiled and said something about me being dressed for the occasion.

We went to the kitchen were I made us a few cocktails. We were getting warmed up. He stood over me staring down and nodding. Said something about tying me to the refrigerator.

Oooo, please do.

Instead though he said he brought a few party favors.

“Party favors?” I said stopping mid-swallow to make sure I heard correctly.

“Uh huh,” he said taking out a large, black plastic bag from his knapsack.

Oh shit.

“What’s in the bag?” I shrieked and wondered as it made a clunking sound on the kitchen table.

“You’ll find out. First, take the dishes out of the sink and clear off that counter,” he instructed.


I did as I was told. When I finished he began taking the party favors out of the bag…a bag full of toys. Like 15 of them. All different types, shapes, colors, styles, models, functions, you fucking name it. He spread them all out all over the counter and instructed me to pick the ones I wanted.

So much to choose from.

I picked the silver bullet and a medium sized dildo. He had a smaller one and a larger one too and asked why didn’t I just go for the big one.

Wow. He was right so I did.

He told me to wash them in the sink. Of course I asked if they had ever been used and of course he said no but my nasty ass didn’t even care.

Next, he told me to go over to the couch and get started. He stood a few feet away, watching me play with myself as he smoked a cigarette and finished his drink.

He came over and went to work. And I do mean he worked on me like it was his job and he took a lot of pride in his craft. He knew when to go harder -even when I grabbed his hands and moaned for rest he grabbed my hand to give me something to hold on to and went in harder.

I am not a screamer but I was that night. It was such a good release. I knew I had some screams and moans trapped deep inside but I didn’t know it would feel so good to free them.

I had to roll off the couch to try and escape him. But he followed my ass and kept going. Finally, he gave me break. I was bent over the side of couch, head down, legs shaking, hair falling over my face, trying to catch my breath – I glanced at the clock and realized he had been working on me for nearly two hours.

“Do you want something to drink,” he asked me.

“Some water, please,” I said completely out of sorts.

“Some water?” he repeated. He seemed very pleased with himself.

I just nodded. Wait this is my house. He's offering me a drink in my own house. Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?! Oh well. Shit, yes...please bring me some water.

With him I always seem to transform into a complete submissive. Far from my daytime persona. I loved it.

We never did make it to an actual bed that night and ended up taking it a little further on the stairs. I know he loves getting head which is good because it so happens to be my favorite thing.

Around 4:30am he called it quits.

“I’m not fucking with you. I know what you’re trying to do. You wanna cum 18 times like last time and I’m not fucking with you,” he joked.

Yeah, that was what I wanted. I wanted to see if it was a fluke. But that first time was someting special. It wiped us both out. It took me two days to recuperate.

Session two wasn’t anything like session one. But it left me wanting more. So much more. He is a nasty, nasty man and I apparently...I'm a nasty girl.

Monday, September 22, 2008

Planet Hoppin'

I had too much to drink. My flesh was on fire. It had been for weeks. Drinking double shots of Patron on ice with lime was like dousing gasoline on a raging inferno. Three years without sex was beyond what I could stand. I couldn't even remember what the point of being celibate was anymore. I was giving myself time to heal. That's how it started. But now, it seemed I was just torturing myself and ready to explode. I felt like a lioness on the prowl.

The scene at the club that night was far too young for my taste. I needed something more mature. I left the club early, dropped my cousin off and found myself on my way to his apartment, calling him without thinking twice about it.

“I’m so glad you’re home,” I said anxiously when he answered.
“I had a little too much to drink and need to use your bathroom. Can I come over?”

“Okay,” he said. There was a hint of curosity and suspicion in his voice.

I hurried, trying not to swerve, crossing the painted yellow lines. I was in no condition to drive home anyway. It was a good thing he lived close by.

I parked illegally in front of his building, uncertain which urge made me walk so hastily to the door. My heels clicked down the hallway. I couldn't stand still in the elevator so I took the stairs. He opened the door and I smiled.

Yes, that's what I want.

“Hey," I said casually.

“What’s up," he replied looking at me curiously. He moved to the side and ushered me inside.

After rushing to the bathroom, I headed for his bedroom where he waited.

“You look cute,” he said.

I said thank you, removed my heels and made myself comfortable on his bed. We chatted briefly about my night out.

“I think subconsciously, you wanted to be here,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I didn’t plan it really,” I said knowing he wouldn't be convinced.

His place just happened to be nearby and that was true. I had been fascinating about him for a very long time. On some subconscious level maybe he was right. Maybe I did want to end up right where I was.

I was just intoxicated enough not to overthink the situation and ripe enough go for it. On his television, VH1 was playing a weekend long marathon of Prince videos. I think at this point, "Scandalous" was the video in rotation. Need I say more?

We shared a glass of pineapple rum and Coke, and I asked him to roll up a little joint (as if I needed anything more). My inhibitions were completely diffused.

He turned on some music and sat next to me on the bed. I was so very chatty and in a playful mood. I lifted my colorful cotton dress just a little revealing that I had ventured into the street without underwear that evening. I started playing with myself, rubbing my clit while casually talking to him as if I was doing nothing at all. I guess it was all a bit much. He hadn't seen this side of me in a very long time.

Mid-sentence he caught me off-guard, leaned in forcefully and kissed me hard. It was the most perfect kiss. I'm sure I'll remember it for a while. I thought I might need to work him up a bit first but apparently he had enough. His tongue whirled around in my mouth and I laughed a little. It was just what I wanted. Was it Christmas? I wasn’t sure he’d go for it. He had turned me down before. I think because he knew I loved him. But that night, he knew, had nothing to do with love. He pushed me down on his bed and dove right in, licking me down below. His tongue swirled around and did tricks I didn't know he could do. He put his fingers inside of me and I thought I'd lose my mind. I think he touched a chakra or two. He was intense and amazing. Then he stopped, walked over to the light and switched the bulb from white to red.

Oh shit.

The next four hours were a blur. (Later, I’d wonder if I dreamt it all.) I made sure I returned the favor lovely. When he came I ate it up off his leg like it was the most delectable dessert I've ever had. It kinda was. I couldn’t believe it when we finally stopped and realized it was 5am. We had not taken a single break. Not one.

We went planet hopping that night. I visited every planet, saw rings around Saturn, the red planet Mars, Venus, Neptune, Jupiter, Uranus, the sun, moon and stars. Seriously.

I vaguely remember him calling me a dirty slut and liking it.

I got a parking ticket too... worth every penny. I hoped there'd be a next time. Sure, 'nuff there was.