Shit. Damn. Motherfucker!

First of all, let me take a moment to acknowledge that it has been dick long since I posted and for that, I apologize. Plenty of personal shit going on..yadda, yadda, yadda. Now, I'm back! And with that, let the fuckery begin...

Shit.

I met this dude through professional connections. I had acknowledged his sexiness a while ago, but since he was a colleague of sorts, I never flirted with him or otherwise paid him much attention. One day, we were at a "work thing" and by the end of the day, he had asked for my number. Later that night, he called and asked for something else. I was a little taken aback by his forwardness, but I definitely found him to be a smashable candidate, so I played along to see where it would go.

We made plans to hang out on the weekend, and we did. Had very stimulating (non-sexual) conversation...the guy was intelligent, mature, single and hot as fuck! Things were definitely looking up. By the time we retired to the bedroom, I was mentally smitten and ready to see if he would measure up in bed. And...sweet jesus...did he measure up! He started by making me strip for him and then had me bend over so he could suck the "what the fuck?!" out of my pussy. He was using a glass dildo-like object in my pussy while licking it and then he moved up to my asshole and proceded cause me to be numb from the waist down. Just when I was close to collapsing, he flipped me over and attempted to go back in. I had to buy myself some time to regain my composure, so it was the perfect opportunity to have him lay on his back and whip out my fantastic fellatio skills.

Not to pop my own collar *pop, pop*, but I know how to suck some dick. I was so gone from the awesome head game he just put on me, I got more into it than usual and he was more than vocal with his appreciation of my skills. After what seemed like 30 minutes sucking his dick, as well as returning the ass-licking favor, he pushed me off of him and pulled me off the bed. He pushed me up against the wall and kissed me before forcefully pushing me back onto the bed. He made me lay there wondering for a few, long seconds before he rejoined me and began fucking. the living shit. out of me. It continued on like that for hours....

The next day, and every day after, he would call in the morning. Email throughout the day and call at night. We talked about sex, relationships, everyday shit..blah, blah, blah. It was cool. Now, when I first met him, because of his forwardness, I had assumed that this guy was trying to be a smash-buddy. That would have been absolutely fine by me. But, the way dude presented himself was as if he was trying to explore the options of something more. No labels had been established, though he did offer the information that I was the first chick he slept with in nearly a year (which I didn't believe at the time, and still don't believe now) and even went so far as to send me song lyrics and shit trying to get in my head.

Damn.

So, about a week in, I started raising my eyebrows about this dude. He had all the appearances of a potential "Mr. Right," but some things just weren't adding up. One of those things was when I called him for an unexpected "lunch" date and I went to his house for the first time. Aside from the fact that he didn't show me around the place, he also had "plumeria" scented hand wash and lotion in his guest bathroom. Now, I appreciate a pimp's game as much as a fellow pimp can, but, "Dude, you expect me to believe bitches ain't coming over here on the regular? Or that your mysterious ass don't live with some chick?" I asked him about it, he said it was "for the guests." Right, nigga. Let's just fuck so I can get back to work. Again, not knocking the hustle, knocking the liar.

Now, the next few incidents are things that I usually would have issued a Pink-slip for immediately. He made arrangements to come see me on three separate occasions and didn't call or show. I know, I know. This is when I should've told his ass to kick rocks, but the dick, coupled with the glimmer of hope, had me a bit off my game. Each time, he gave me some bullshit, eyebrow-raising excuse that me (and my tribunal of vixen friends) couldn't quite accept as legit. I was about done with his ass. At this point, there was one good week and one shitty week and I was not trying to roll the dice on the third week. But I did. Fuck. I did.

Motherfucker!

So...the perp sends me an email, pesudo-apologizing for his actions (but not really) and suggesting we spend a couple days together to get to know eachother better and putt the aforementioned shitty week behind us. At this point, I knew that there was a 50/50 chance this dude was going to further piss me off, but I was willing to take that gamble in attempt to fuck this dude and his magnificent dick one last time for the road. By now, I had already surmised that he was not potential partner material and I just wanted a nice fuck-filled weekend of fun and no dramatics. Not what happened.

He tells me he will arrive by 9. At 10:30, when he hadn't, I was already getting flashbacks to the previous week and was calling him to tell him to forget it and lose my number. He didn't answer. Then called 15 minutes later to say he was nearby and would be there shortly. By 11:30, I was fuming and I was prepared to tell him as soon as he got to my door to go back to his car and go the fuck home. But when he called to say he was downstairs, it was obvious he had been dropped off. I totally could've still kicked him out, but I was drunk, high and horny. Fuck it, I said.

He came in and very arrogantly glossed over his lateness, even insinuated that I was being ungrateful to the effort he made to come see me. (Right, you had to get a ride and shit...which I didn't know...because you never said you didn't have a whip...why? Because you are a liar) Sorry, I digress. Anyways. Now, I'm pissed. So I take a pill to relax, have some more liquor and spend the rest of the night fucking dude. It was good, but not nearly as good as the first time. Which, upon reflection, is because he had already revealed himself to be a major asshole, and not the sexy kind.

Everything came to a head the next day. We had fucked and sucked a little in the morning. His luggage and printed out party schedule made me think this guy really was planning to stay the whole weekend. I was trying to see if I could overlook his irreconcilable flaws, and just fuck the weekend away, but of course...he had to take ya girl there. Long, headache-inducing story cut short, after I had cooked us both breakfast, we got into an arguement that started over something minor--me telling him to log off of my computer. He not only ignored my request (as he sat there chatting it up with chicks on Facebook) but then told me, in an unacceptably loud voice, "What you need to do is eat your breakfast and get on the computer later! I'm doing something and what you have to do isn't that important!" He went on to call me selfish and I was thinking, Somebody please slap me because I KNOW this fool isn't a) disrespecting me in my house and b) sitting here eating food I cooked, using my computer and otherwise soaking up all my fucking hospitality without having the decency to come correct! I knew I was getting nowhere with this arrogant, audacious, insolent, rude and undeservedly cocky dude so, I made him an offer he couldn't refuse: "If you think I'm selfish. Or any other unfavorable characteristic. You can pack your shit up and get the fuck out of my house." Again, if he hadn't gotten dropped off, I would have put his ass out after we fucked the night before. And I told him that. He got up and didn't say a word as he put his plate in the kitchen, went in the room to gather his things, and left.

Good riddens, motherfucker!

Hey readers, tell me what you think about my latest fuckery-laced sexperience. Did ya miss me?

Now in the spirit of this story, please enjoy the smooth sounds of D'Angelo's "Shit, Damn, Motherfucker"

My name is Pink, and...

God grant me the serenity...

I'm currently 2 years in recovery from my Cocaine addiction and although we're in the middle of his annual Memorial Day weekend visit to Miami, I'm holding strong to my convictions. Ok, well, its not so much because I'm so strong as it is that Cocaine is a bonafide asshole. In the weeks leading up to his visit, we had spoken on the phone about seeing each other. He seemed to have come a little ways from the unnecessarily cocky abuser that he had been described as in my initial post about my addiction to him. It was almost like the good old days, when I met him 7 years ago and it's possible that I may have relapsed, had our text exchange on his first day in town not put a sour taste in my mouth.

9:59 a.m.

Cocaine: On my way to Florida. What's good?

Me: Totally forgot you were coming today. At work now. When do you get here?

(There was no response until 1:03 p.m.)

Cocaine: Just landed in FLL

Me: Welcome

(He didn't respond again, and I assumed it was because he and his cohorts were getting situated and he would hit me up later. I finished work, got home, went on about my evening and heard nothing else from him until I got--what I hope was an alcohol-induced--text at 11:11 p.m.)

Cocaine: What happened to my BJ?

(I didn't reply to this fuckery immediately, because I was trying to give him time to shoot me a "my bad, I'm fucked up" text. But it never came. So at 11:52, I replied)

Me: You already know that you sealed your fate with how you just came at me. Blow yourself.

Cocaine: Smh. You always find a way to act up. Whatever.

Me: Fuck you. You hit me with a text that you were here. Then texted me about a bj. C'mon man. You don't think you need to come better than that? Doesn't matter anyway. Get bent. I'm sure you'll get your bj. Though it won't be from me. And you'll wish it was. And that makes me smile. Asshole.

Cocaine: Shut up chump! Little crying ass. All you said was welcome.

(I snickered to myself reading this. Did this fool expect me to blow him up all day trying to chase him down and suck his dick. Get the fuck outta here. Joker.)

Me: Not gonna argue with you, G. I'll be that, but you'll still be getting sub-par head this weekend. So who's the chump?

Cocaine: Ok

(yeah. checkmate, bitch.)

...to accept the things I cannot change...

To be honest, I wasn't surprised. Why would things be any different this time? Sure, he read the blog post and perhaps he felt bad...for a minute. But drugs are tricky like that. Just when you think you are being comforted by your dependency, reality comes and kicks the shit out of you. Thank god I got that text message before I took a hit this time.

...courage to change the things I can...

So, though I almost slipped off the wagon again, Cocaine was able to remind me via textversation that a) no matter how kinky I am, there is some modicum of respect that I require-and deserve-from anyone I suck, fuck or otherwise and b) His shit is good, but I'm better.

...and the wisdom to know the difference.

The next day came and went with no apology text. I didn't really expect one, but I was hopeful that this guy who I had known for a while now had a little more respect for me than the text-4-bj interaction. He didn't. Oh well.

I wrote the first blog about him expressing a realization of how little I was actually getting from my exchanges with Cocaine. Though there is something innately sexy about him, the ugly way in which he treats me should be enough to keep me sober.

My name is Pink, and I'm 2 years in recovery. But I will always be an addict.

Can you remember a time when you had to give up someone or something, not only because it was right, but because you would respect yourself a lot more for it?

The Shop Is Closed!

I know you may have been wondering what the fuck happened to me lately...Trust me, the story is a long, repetitive one. I'll give you the deal though, in a nutshell.

After ending my on again, off again relationship with Mr. Boombastic for the last time, I decided to evaluate my most recent team roster and see if there was anyone worth keeping around. There wasn't. Boombastic and I had a great sexual vibe and we liked hanging out together, but the line between fuck buddy and girlfriend started to get blurred. That may not have been a bad thing, but for the fact that there are fundamental issues between he and I that make a "real" relationship pretty impossible.

Now Hood Willy, aside from being dim as a 40-watt lightbulb, disrecpected me and my home last time he came by. The dick is good, but not good enough to trump respect and compensate for his ignorance. Gone.

There were also a couple guys on the bench that I really wasn't "dealing" with on that level, and since they were never interesting enough to make the starting lineup, I cut them too.

There is no shortage of men in Miami, I guess just a shortage of men I want to fuck with. Having come to this conclusion, I have decided to take a break from fucking until I run up on something "special". Ha! Let's see how this goes.

Especially since Cocaine's annual Memorial Day weekend visit is just around the corner...

So tell me, have you ever needed to take a celibacy break? How long did it last?

Pretty Boy Blue

Pretty Boy Blue

didn't know what to do

when he got to Pinkvixxen's house

So he took off his shirt

and flexed his tattoos

then proceeded to eat her out...


Now Pretty Boy Blue

was a scholar in bed

but that's about where the brains stop

He had a good job

but fucked it up with fraud

and now works as a factory cog...


Pretty Boy Blue

and his blue collar dick

have Pinkvixxen giddy with glee

'Cause brains or not

if that dick hits the spot

then his dumbass is straight with me!




When it comes to lovers, how important is intellect to you?

I'm Sayin' Doe!

I love a man who can hold up his end of a stimulating conversation, has a college boy vibe and an open mind. Mr. Clean Cut can turn me on with his entrepreneurial prowess, articulate speech and cultured social life. He's good in bed, and likely a freak, but often times a girl gets bored with Mr. Clean Cut, he's nice, but every now and then a girl needs to get her hands dirty!

-Enter Hood Willy-

I have becoming increasingly unhappy with the current "relationship" that I'm in, and recently decided to open up my options and find a possible new buddy. It always seems as if just when one man fucks up, another one lucks up, and little did I know, I would run up on someone new sooner, rather than later. I reconnected with this old friend of mine, we go way back to grade school. He's a cutie. Nice full lips, caramel complexion, nice package...and straight up hood fabulous!! He lives in the heart of the inner city, but he's smart, and his family is educated, but he chose to rebel and run the streets, even dabbling briefly in pharmaceuticals and other unsavory dealings. He has a "Fuck the World" attitude, Miami-hood drawl and about 13 tattoos on his body, including a full head shot of his mother's face on his chest, with her name in cursive underneath. How sweet.

Hood Willy is a thug. He drives a car that screams, "Dope Boy," with it's blacked out tints and driver's seat leaned all the way back. He is always rocking a fitted cap and his LL-esque habit of lip licking keeps his gorgeous pink lips unusually moist. He is actually very cute, his pretty boy face belies the thuggish lifestyle he lives, but as soon as he opens his mouth. Oh yeah, homie is definitely from round the way.

Immediately, there was a mutual flirtation, which led to an invite to come by and "catch up," and within the First 48 ;-), we were sitting on my couch, sipping cognac, laughing and reminiscing on the old days--minutes away from fucking. He has a slick sense of humor, and kept me laughing and blushing, as this was only turning me on more. Did I mention, how cute he was? After the conversation slowed down to more suggestive subject matter, I peeped his bulge start to grow and he started rubbing circles on my thigh. It seemed like homie was scared to make the first move, so I stood up and asked him if we were going to do the damn thing or what? It didn't take a second before he was up on his feet and following me to the bed. I laid down and he licked his lips and then got between my legs to start to lick mine. He had mentioned to me how much he had liked to eat pussy, which typically raises alarms that he may have a small dick, but upon further inspection, it wasn't bad at all. It wasn't ginormous like Mr. Boombastic, but shawty knew how to work it!

Hood Willy ate my pussy for a long ass time. He made me cum over and over and every time I cam to enough to open my eyes, I caught his eyes locked on me. He hadn't stopped looking the whole time. You may remember me mentioning it before in a previous group post, but Mellow used to do that, and drive me fucking crazy! Hood Willy kept going at my pussy for about 3 orgasms and then starting moving his lips up my body, kissing my thighs, stomach, stopping to suck my nipples with a hungry man's voracity and then up to my lips, where I could still taste myself on his breath. Mmm.



Then he commenced to fuck.the.shit.out.of.me. No, seriously, I had truly underestimated this guy. I never thought that I could be pleased by a dick less that 10 inches. Hood Willy proved that he could get it in. And in. And in! He had your girl gone. At one point, I think he was fucking me so hard, some of his ghetto transferred to me and I yelled, in my best 'Shanequa' accent, "Oh shit! I'm FINNA cum!"

When I rode his dick, he pulled me down to lean over him so that he could return to assaulting my nipples. We kissed deep and sloppy and then I sat up, bucking my hips and riding his dick like a pro. I was working it so hard, when I looked down at his chest, his mother's face seemed to be raising her eyebrows at me, as if to say, "You better not hurt my baby, hussie!" I tried to tune out his mother's stern-looking stare as I brought the last one home and collapsed onto his chest.

After we finished, we lay there catching our breath, both surely wondering how we got from two 3rd grade friends to this. But who cared? I threw him a towel and he wiped off his balls-region and got dressed. I threw on a shirt and we had one more drink before I sent him home. Before he got downstairs to his car he was already texting me about when would be the next time he could come lay it down.


It was great, and did I mention....I'm Back!!

Have you ever had a craving for some "thug passion"?

Rapper's Delight

It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you, without a dope blog to stroke to...

Before I went off on a hella long hiatus from writing, I mentioned one of my newest friends, MC Dingaling, the rapper. He was on his way down for a visit, and I was excitedly anticipating a weekend with new dick. When he got into town, this is a brief rundown of how it went:

I love it when you call me Big Poppa...

I knew he was gonna handle me, because he's not a small guy. Not notoriously b-i-g, but big enough to slap me up, flip me and rub me down with ease. Things jumped off nicely. He went straight in, teased me with a short oral session and then commenced to beat it like he'd just gotten out of jail. Just as I would come down off of one orgasm from one position, he would put me in another position and work on the next one. After cumming a half dozen times, I rode his dick, bucking up and down on him until I returned the favor and made him O-face somethin' serious!

We took a break, and before round two began, he laid me out on the bed and picked up where he left off from the earlier oral session. Holy shit. Being a rapper and all, I already knew he had a way with his mouth, but DAYUM! He had me lifted up off of the bed and trying to run away. My toes were curling and I was calling out all sorts of deities. He sucked and tongue-fucked the hell out of my pussy, and I came in his mouth until I was ready for some more dick.

From the windows/to the walls/Til the sweat drop down my balls/Til all these bitches fall/Aww skeet, skeet, muthafucka...

I stood up to bend over onto the bed and my legs were so weak, I ended up on the floor. He told me to stay there and put me on my back in the small hallway between the closets in my bedroom. My legs were pushed up to my chest and he fucked me hard. Shit. I mean hard. I kept my eyes closed, because every time I opened them, I felt like my head was spinning. It could have been the good dick I was getting, or it could be that the blood was quickly rushing to my brain from my knee-over-head position, and I was on the verge of blacking out. Before he inadvertently knocked me unconscious, we changed positions, and got back onto the bed. Now, it was my turn.

I leaned over his lap and started sucking him off. I paced myself, because I knew that the pussy had brought him close to the edge. I alternated between sucking his dick and stopping to suck his nipples and tease him by licking his neck, chest, lips. I kept this up for a long while, until I knew he was about to cum. Then I stopped. I stopped just long enough for the sensation to go away, and then I rode his dick until he came loud and strong.

This was just the first day, but the weekend was filled with more of the same. All in all the visit was great, but things got hairy when the "R" word came up (relationship). We had both been into each other heavy leading up to the weekend, but when it was time for him to go, I came to a harsh realization.

Oh baby you/you got what I need/But she say he's just a friend/She say he's just a friend

The sex was great, and MC Dingaling is a real sweetheart to me, but I had to pump my breaks. I liked him a lot, but spending the weekend with him in my home not only afforded me with momentary live-in dick, but also the stark reality that I have absolutely no desire to share my space or my life with any one man right now. I know it may sound cold, but it is what it is. Besides, dude was also fresh out of a relationship, and there is nothing worse than a rebound gone bad.

This was, unfortunately, another whirlwind infatuation turned flop. MC Dingaling was a nice guy. Too nice. He was sweet. Too sweet. And he adored me. Too much. I'm too much of a bitch for such a nice guy. I ended up telling him this in one way or another. However, the weekend, and everything leading up to it, was great. Considering my odds, I decided it was smarter to fall back a little bit before the going got tough.

He'll survive, and he will definitely miss this pussy more than he misses me. A truth I am absolutely okay with.

Sometimes dick and a little bit of attention can knock even the best of us off our game. Ever had to check yourself after getting your signals crossed?

Preparation

I can't fucking wait! I've been excited about the arrival of new dick before, but never like this! You see, I met this musician, specifically a rapper, on one of my various cyber playing grounds--let's call him MC Dingaling.

MC Dingaling and I exchanged basic banter for a few weeks online, on the phone, etc. We've spoken, in vivid detail, about what is to go down when we link up. He's read the blog, so he knows I'm a beast...but there's something different about him. He's the perfect mixture of laid-back and crunk with a side of humor that is an aphrodisiac of its own, in my eyes. He is definitely not the usual suspect. I can't quite put my finger on what it is, but I'm diggin it. Nevertheless, he'll be here in a few days, and I want to make sure I'm ready...I just hope he is. To aid in my preparation, I made a list, of things to do to get ready for what I'm sure is to be a fuck-filled weekend!

Fuck Prep For Dummies

1. Postpone all non-essential agenda items. He only has a few days in town, and I want to make sure that I can get as much fucking and sucking in that time frame as possible. If its not a paying job or a dire emergency, its on ice until next week.

2. Primp the punani. Trim it up, get the lips cleaned up and suckable. I'd rather my man focus on the pussy eating, rather than pulling and spitting hairs out of his mouth the whole time. You know, like when you're eating a piece of chicken, only to find unplucked hairs on it halfway in. Totally fucks up the appetite. Not a good look. My cootch gotta stay finger lickin' good!

3. Pick out some sexy shit to wear. Though my guy, like many men, could give a fuck what I'm wearing so long as it comes off, I like to tease, give the eyes something to mingle on before I get buck-ed nak-ed! I need a new fishnet, was thinking about the bodysuit kind.

4. Peaches, Pineapples and Passion fruit. You know what the say...you are what you eat! I already know the punani is delicious (survey says!), but I want to make sure I give him a real taste of Miami with my homemade pussy colada!

5. Polish. Mani and pedi appointment already booked. Apricot scrub on deck to polish up the elbows, knees and heels. There is nothing worst than a crusty bitch rocking fishnets! Absolutely nothing.

6. Purchase: lube, razors, electrolytes, snacks, Japanese bondage rope, ounce of Mary Jane and that fishnet body stocking I mentioned.

I've already cleared my calendar as much as possible, and I'm on my way to pick up the last minute items needed for my weekend with the fresh meat on the yard. Stay tuned for the re-cap...

HNT: Hugenormous!

Now everyone knows that I love myself big, black dick. But when Sheba and I ran up on this dildo in one of our colleague/friends office space, jaws dropped and legs clenched tight. At 13 inches long and what has to be at least 5 inches thick, the dildo modeled after porn actor "BAM" was more than I care to try to handle!



Sheba held it up while I snapped the photo and marvelled at the sight of the thing..wondering how a woman (or, ouch, man) could possibly accomodate all of that manmeat. I had joked about wanting one for Christmas this year, and it was a joke indeed. I'm scared a normal man wouldn't be able to follow after something as massive as Mr. BAM!

Happy happy HNT! Visit Osbasso and see who else is playing!

Cocaine is a Helluva Drug...

"...this is your brain on drugs

....Any Questions?"

I never thought I was the type of girl who would become an addict. I had plenty of other ways to get "high." I am a creative person. I like to make things, write things, I had plenty of friends, a man and all types of shit to occupy my time....but like they say: It only takes one time.

I met Cocaine about 6 years ago. I was dating my ex-husband when he and I met online. He lived in New York, was sexy, confident (cocky as shit) and a fucking freak! The complete opposite of what I was dealing with at home. We talked online, had steamy phone conversations where he would tell me how he would fuck my face until I gagged and my asshole until it gaped. He called me his slut/bitch/whore and make me tell him how I was fucking my asshole, getting it ready for him, and how much I loved it. Shit, he turned me on like it was in his DNA! But, he was an asshole and I knew I had to keep my distance because, I had a thing for assholes. He was coming down to Miami in a few months for Memorial Weekend and I knew that I was going to fuck him--or he would fuck me, rather--but just that ONE time. I had to see if this high was all he made it out to be. I swore I was only going to do ONE line...

Sniff. Mmm. Sniff, Snnniff! The first time that we met, was at a hotel room I was staying at on the beach not far from where he and his entourage were staying. We got into the room and by the time he sat down, I don't think two minutes passed before I asked him to pull out his dick so I could get better acquainted (not my exact words, but it was definitely to that point). I proceeded to introduce myself with what I am sure was the most skilled blowjob he had received to date, and after he fucked my mouth...he commenced to fuck me into a multi-orgasmic stupor that had me trembling. He kept changing me from one position to another, staying longer in the places that made me scream the loudest. My pussy was dripping puddles, and he was slaughtering it. Making me pay for all of the shit-talking that I so masochistically brought to the table. I took his fucking, but after I dropped him off, I came back and balled up into the a goddamn fetal position! Shit, I may have even sucked my thumb. Cocaine had come through and owned my pussy. I believe he rearranged my uterus or something, I was in pain for a few days after his thrashing. But he didn't care. And if I'd bend over, he'd do it all over again.

Thank the goddess he didn't live in Miami, right? Really, that only made it worse. He would talk nasty ass shit to me while I was at work, tease me with pictures of his very large and thick dick...constantly remind me of how he put it down in Miami. I couldn't wait another year. You know, when an addict finds a dealer who has that good shit, she will borrow gas money, take three buses and walk 15 blocks for that stuff. I plotted and schemed and was able to get away from home long enough to spend more time with him during an impromptu trip he made to Miami for what probably were the best three days of our relationship, in general....but not as intense as the time I almost Overdosed. That was the when I went to New York City for Labor Day weekend 2005. My friends in NY thought I was coming to visit them, but I really went up there just to get some of that 'caine.

Snnnnniiiiiiiiffffff. It was right after Hurricane Katrina, and I can vividly remember being bent over and fucked in the ass while CNN was replaying clips of Kanye West saying, "George Bush doesn't care about Black people," Cocaine had my face pressed down in the bed and tears were rolling out of my eyes while he kept pushing down on my back and pushing more of his enormous dick into my ass. It was wet, dirty and super nasty.. and he loved it. My head, pressed hard into the bed, my eyes tearing and rolling back into my head, his dick making me convulse. Orgasms were running one into another and I was seizing, And he didn't care. Cocaine doesn't care about PinkVixxxen, that's how he was treating my asshole. But I loved every sodomizing minute of it. He was my favorite drug. I get goosebumps just reflecting on the encounter.

After the NY trip, I saw him once more before I got married. Then, daily conversations faded into sporadic email and text check-ins, and then to quarterly "Hey, what's going on?" email or IM exchanges. Both of our lives had become busier, we drifted apart, and I think we even missed seeing each other a few Memorial Weekends in a row. It seemed that Cocaine had finally loosened his hold on me.

Well, that's how it seemed. But after I split with my husband, moving into my new place made made way for a reunion with an old habit. Memorial Weekend '09 was when I fell off the wagon. From the moment he got into my car, I knew it was a bad idea. He was rude, sarcastic, borderline disrespectful and several times I wondered if I should just take an 'L" and drop his ass back at his hotel. But I was chasing the black horse and wasn't going to stop until I got a taste. I don't know if he knew I was strung out or not, but this time, he really let me have it. He bent me over, fucked me. Pushed me to my knees and forced me to lick his dick, balls and basically the entire region clean. Bent me over, fucked me some more. Got me back on my knees and choked me with his dick and slapped my face, pulled his dick out of my mouth and spit in my face. As he was forcing me back up to be fucked again, I was kind of repulsed. Did he just spit in my face? WTF?! I didn't think I could have felt more humiliated. Until he forced me on my knees and came all over my lips, cheeks, tits...and my carpet. I'm sure he said something like, "Take that nut, bitch" or something equally demeaning. I can't remember because I was in a Cocaine haze. I staggered into the bathroom to clean up and barely recognized myself when I looked in the mirror. I had been humiliated, slapped, spat and cum on. I came hard in the process, but I felt like shit in the afterglow. I had officially hit rock bottom.

He's coming back again for Memorial Weekend this year, about a month or so away. I'm not having sex with him...I've been sober now for 11 months. He said he just wanted to meet for drinks, dinner...or something. I think I'm going to need to call my sponsor.

You ever had something so good it was bad? Or so bad, it was good?

Fantasy Fuck: The Masked Marauder

maraud: verb. 1. to roam or go around in quest of plunder; make a raid for booty

A few weeks ago, I appealed to my followers via Twitter for some ideas for my next blog post. I'm ashamed that it's taken so long to make it up here, but for some reason, I couldn't make it through without becoming sidetracked. One of my sexy e-comrades (whom I was dying to let smack it up, flip it and rub it down) suggested an interesting topic "anal sex with a stranger" and me likey. A nice, sexy mix of carnal lust and anonymity was just up my alley. (heh, pardon the pun).

And so it goes...

I was up in New York for a short visit with friends. Since it is her stomping grounds, I had called up Choc'laDee ahead of time to see if she knew of any debauchery we could get into on the Friday night that my friend had to work. Of course she did! She told me of a Kinky Masquerade party hosted by Mansion (M2, or whatever the venue is called now). I was down, and Dee said that Haute was going to be in town the same weekend, and would definitely be down to go. Oh shit, I thought, this was going to be a wildass night!

Fast forward to Friday. Choc'laDee, Haute and I had met up for lunch and to purchase masks to wear to the party. That night, as we were walking into the party I surveyed the three of us - what a sexy slutty crew we were. Each wearing some form of vixen-wear accompanied by beautifully adorned masks--I had chosen to wear a black bustier, with pink detail and a short black skirt with fishnets to accentuate my thick legs and stilettos that were so high, I was nervous. My mask was pink (obvious) and black. We walked into the club and commenced to drinking, dancing and becoming increasingly aroused by our surroundings. I lost my homegirls after they disappeared following an extra long trip to the "bathroom". I knew I wasn't going to catch up with their horny asses until later, so I headed to the bar, got another drink, and before mingling, tweeted my first impression of all of the sexiness around me.

A few minutes later, I received a reply from @thedirtydetails "Imagine that. So am I. And yes, lots of sexiness around."
I tweeted back, "You're here?! Where are you?"
TDD: "*Smirking* Where are you?"
Me: "I'm by the bar in pink and black. Standing solo. I lost Haute and Choc'laDee temporarily. Get over here. and how will I know who you are?"
Him: "You will know. I'll be over there in a few."
Me: "Oh shit..."
His reply: "Oh shit is right."

While I sipped my drink and waited to meet the mysterious fellow blogger, I reflected on all of the shit-talking I had done since i'd made his acquaintance online. After I had become a regular reader of his blog, I became more and more intrigued about how much his art really did imitate life. Like many others who read his hot and steamy entries, I had thought more than once about how he could get it--and the ways in which I would give it to him! In addition to his sexy words, the whole mystery behind his masked persona combined with a cocky self-assurance, makes a girl just wanna kneel down and ego boost all day! Whew! But I digress... I'm waiting. I knew his ass wasn't going to come running over to the bar immediately, so I got into a conversation with a friendly, full-bodied chick next to me who was telling me about some bullshit I couldn't really hear because I was really listening. I noticed her eyes shift a bit to look at something behind me, turned around and, heh, yeah...that's him. I didn't know what he looked like, and with the Eyes Wide Shut-esque mask he was wearing very little of his face was revealed, but I knew that this was him. I totally forgot about the Latina chick and me and my crush started making small talk, laughing about our online banter, a segway to sex. Particularly a claim I had made recently, about what I would to to his dick when it got in the vicinity of my mouth. I had absolutely no clue when me and homeboy would cross paths again, so I went in. All in. I suggested we try to find a spot that was a little less crowded...and he led the way.

We walked around to this area that was secluded enough, save a drunk couple talking shit on one of the couches. we moved into a dark-ish corner and he looked at me and said, "So?" Fuck it. I answered in the language that I spoke best. Tongue. I squatted in front of him and unzipped his pants to pull him out. Thick and heavy and already hardening like a rock, I opened wide and took him balls deep in one gulp. He gasped. He hadn't believe me when I told him I would. I reached down and ripped a hole in the crotch of my fishnets, so I could push my fingers inside. He had grabbed a handful of my hair and was pulling my head back and forth, mouth-fucking me as he leaned up against the wall. I sucked harder and faster and then he pulled me back, strings of saliva connecting my mouth to his dick. "Stand up," he said. Within the 3 seconds it took to stand and lean back to catch my footing in those fucking shoes, he pulled up my right leg around his waist and pulled my tits up out of the top of my bustier and grabbed a fistful. We kissed roughly as he ripped the hole in my stockings wider and before I could brace for impact, I was being impaled. Straight up! He started off deep, slow and slightly rough, and the louder I moaned, the faster he went. I held on to him for dear life, as I was fearful that I would break my fucking ankle, but I was cumming back to back and I didn't want him to stop. And just when I though he would.

He didn't. Only long enough to say, "Turn around." I did. I was entranced. I heard him half chuckling at me as he leaned into my ear and whispered, "You talked a whole lot of shit, didn't you?" I nodded and whimpered, "Unh huh." He rubbed his dick along my pussy lips, slathering it with my juices. He said, "Then the punishment, should fit the crime." With that, he started pushing his dick into my tight and pulsating asshole, my juices as lube. I could only imagine the slick shit going through his head while he was fucking the fuckety fuck out of me. My pussy was dripping a puddle and I was going bananas as he pinched my nipples while he fucked me deep in my second hole. I was facing the wall, hands in front bracing myself. I leaned back into him, grinding my hips as he fucked my ass deep. He moved my hands to my nipples and instructed me to squeeze, and I did. He was rubbing my clit and fucking me harder. I don't think, at this point, there was a separation between one orgasm and another. My eyes rolled back an I uttered the most unladylike growl....FUCK! He put his hand on the back of my neck an pushed me forward, bending me over. He steadied his stroke and pushed in and out a few more times before sliding his dick out and spreading my ass cheeks just in time to cum all over my gaping asshole.

I sighed, looked over my shoulder and through the blur of my misplaced mask, I noticed the people on the nearby couch had clearly been enjoying the show. They tipped their drinks to us as I struggled to straightened out my cum-stained skirt, put my tits back in my top and make sure my mask was on straight. When I looked back up at him, he had already regained any small amount of composure he may have lost. "You should probably go to the bathroom and get yourself together, find your friends," he said. He kissed me on the cheek, patted my ass, turned around and walked the fuck away.

Yup!

They call him The Fury, and he will tap...that...ASS!!

Can you take a tongue-lashing?

"Heaven finds an ear when sinners find a tongue" -Francis Quarles

Head is great. Especially head performed for a long time by a cunning linguist. Let's just get it out of the way now, head is fucking great!

So, imagine my Oh-face when I stumbled across this ad for a new sex toy by LoveHoney called 'Sqweel'. Its a 10-tongued wheel (yeah, i said it, 10!) that rotate to simulate a very special Quick-Tongued McGraw. I haven't used it, so I can't officially put the Pink Pussy Stamp Of Approval on it, but it does look amusing, to say the least.

Check it out...

TMI Tuesday #212

Today we are celebrating Between My Sheets Top 100 Sex Bloggers of 2009 by stealing some ideas from the top sex blooger, Coquitten 100th post.


1. I lost my virginity in 8th grade. We skipped school and went to his house. My first time was on top! Where and when did you lose yours?

2. I think my lips are my best sexual feature. What is yours?

3. A recurring theme in my fantasies is being worked over by two men. Do you have a recurring fantasy or a theme to your fantasies?

4. I LOVE watching a man stroking his cock. Do you enjoy watching others (a partner or a stranger) masturbate?

5. I hate when guys are quiet in bed. I like to hear you moaning and nasty, dirty talk the whole time. Do you like you partners quiet? Are you quiet?

6. My nipples are hot and cold. Some days nipple play can bring me over the edge, others, I'm not into it. Do you having your nipples played with?

7. My ‘number’ is classified information. Care to share yours?

Happy TMI Tuesday!

Get Your Bitch!

First off, let me start this entry by saying that I don't normally make it a practice to indulge in bullshit, but the bullshit on top of bullshit I'm about to unfold on ya'll right now is so asinine, it's noteworthy. So, to the guy featured here and all dudes like him who can't keep their game on lock, "Get Your Bitch, Homie," for she know not who she fucketh with.

You all may remember reading a few of my entries about a rendezvous or two with a dude who fucks on film. Now, as I said, a rendezvous or two, me and this dude fucked, end of story. He lives in a different city and fucks on film, the likeliness of me having a desire to do anything more than just fuck him once or twice was null. Furthermore, he had a girlfriend. I remember once asking him how she felt about his goingson and he talked around it, I didn't give a shit. She was his girl, not mine. If he didn't respect her, why should I? Case closed.

So we did our thing. It was a wrap. As a matter of fact, after the last time we kicked it, I made it up in my mind, I'd had enough of fucking Dude. Gone. Out of my mind. Until...this chick surfaced out of nowhere. I get a text message at like 8 in the damn morning from Dude's phone, "I don't know what Dude told you, but we are not in an open relationship. I am pregnant with his child and you [k]new so leave him alone or his child will be a bastard and you can have him."

BRAAAA-HA-HAAAAA!!!!! WTF?!? Hilarious. I almost ran off the fucking road.

"I don't know what Dude told you, but we are not in an open relationship."

Okay, she acknowledged in her opening statement that her dude could have possible told me they were in an open relationship. Which means, I may have fucked him thinking she was cool with it. Which, considering the fact that he works in porn professionally, is not a strange assumption. Furthermore, if they aren't in an open relationship and he lied then that's on him. Shit, he lied to me too. Why she felt the need to text me at 8 a.m. is beyond me. Wake your man up, clearly ya'll need to talk. But he works in porn, Ma, you're playing yourself.

So, I look at the text, perplexed by the sheer absurdity of it all. I had to call someone. Sheba's up. I rang her and told her the bullshittery. We figured that since my number was in his phone under PinkVixxxen, in order for her to put two-and-two together, she must have read the blog. He had posted links on his Twitter page when I wrote them, and if BabyMomma, P.I. was snooping in his phone, surely, she checked all his tweets. (Let me mention, how odd I thought it was for him to tweet the links, seeing as how I try to help my Subjects remain anonymous with nicknames, but he posted them, so people who knew him, knew he fucked Pink...Stupid) I said to Sheba, "If she read the blog, surely, she commented on the posts featuring him." I was driving, so I asked Sheba to check, and just as sure as I'm a pimp, the jilted BabyMomma, P.I. had commented. Here and here. I could give a fuck about her man, and I hope my not responding to her ass let her know that I don't want go that route. And the funny thing is, the comments were posted almost a month before I received the text message, so that means this drama had been going on a minute. Nevertheless, I'm not getting into a back and forth with her. She's pissed, and unfortunately, directing her attention to the wrong person.

See, now this is where people stop being polite...and start getting real! I'm pissed that I have this shit in my universe right now. I mean, I let this Dude stay in my house, and he let his broad come at me like that? Shit. I couldn't get a heads up? Nah, he let BabyMomma, P.I. handle his dirty work. That shit ain't kosher. Which is why I'm blasting them both. Next time you fuck up, follow the rules, Chief!

Rule 1: Dude, "Get Your Bitch!" Keep your bullshit in-house. There is no reason EVER, why a bitch like Pink should be getting text messages, blog comments or any communications from some woman who caught her guy out there. None. I don't know you, you don't wanna know me. Handle that shit amongst yourselves. And you get an "F", for unsuccessfuly trying to make your girl think a porn dude could be faithful.

Rule 2: If your man works in the sex, music or sports industry, you're a fool to think he ain't fuckin around. And if he does fuck around, you're a fool to think the woman he fucked knows/gives a fuck about you.

Rule 3: If you're going to cheat on your woman, you need to keep it ONEHUNDRED with the chick you fuckin on the side. It's not cool to leave a bitch to get blindsided when your girl is in investigation mode and starts blowing up the spot. If you have already failed to secure your game, it's only a common courtesy to call the other chick and let her know some shit may be about to go down. Not cool, chief.

Rule 4: Try to keep your face and your dick/'gina in separate places on the internet. Don't fuck where you Tweet. (A rule I should have heeded)

Rule 5: If you don't have your shit together, don't fuck with Pink.



Ever had some other couple's drama blow up in your face? Tell us about your "Get Your Bitch" moment.

First Date With A Fairy

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Friday Night Smackdown

Most of the men i've dated since my separation have had one core fault in common...their consistent inconsistency. Great in bed, great sweettalkers, but when it came to "Show and Prove," they weren't about shit. Last minute booty call cancellations, double standards regarding the parameters of a Fuck Buddy relationship, etc. A whole lotta shit that Pink has absolutely NO time to entertain. Well, I expected when I started kicking it with Mr. Boombastic, him being a Young guy and all, that there wouldn't be much deviation from the norm. There wasn't. He was just as full of shit as most...but he was consistent about one thing...our Friday night fuck sessions.

So this past Friday evening, he made his way over. Apologized for being scarce all week, and commenced to give me the best foot/leg massage I've had in '09! He rubbed, and I melted, and before long, his fingers were massage another toe, one of the camel variety. He rubbed around my pussy lips and clit, causing me to writhe all over the sofa. He fingerbanged me to an orgasm, then took my hand and led me to the bedroom. I was already still a little annoyed with him for the previous week's antics, but I quietly formulated a plan to get him back. If he didn't get me first.

Our romp started out with his penis banging me from behind while I was on my knees.. I came. Then, for Round Two, I was put on my belly, and again, banged from the back. I came. I was twisted onto my side...and just when I was about to cum again, he rolled me on top of him, witout pulling out, I went from being spooned, to sitting on his cock backwards cowgirl style. WHOAA NELLY!!! It took me a few seconds to orient myself to being impaled on his dick so abruptly. Sneaky bastard, that had to be against regulations...I adjusted myself and slowly started to grind my hips and lean back into his chest. I was slow fucking him and he reached around me and rubbed my tits. My nipples were rocks and my pussy was gushing wetness all over he, me and my sheets.

Some kinda way, I pogo'd my ass around on his dick, to face him. Round Four is when it got crazy. For me at least. I had found the best way to direct his dick to my g-spot and was doing that furiously, while leaning back and grabbing his ankles. I threw my pussy up at him and ground my hips. Feeling myself come closer and closer to a huge orgasm with each twist. I started cursing, and sweating, and damn-near crying. He was talking shit. He knew I was about to cum. "Heh? What's that?" He'd say. "What's that you doin, girl? Sounds like you about to cum." And I did. I came HARD. I almost fell off of him and the bed. Yep, tapped out! I think I was speaking tongues, but I do know that the lonly English I could muster after that one was, "Don't touch me, don't touch me."

Bastard. I won't need another orgasm like that one until next Friday.

What kind of kink do you look forward regularly?

I Saw Myself, Reflected (Group Post)

The thing I miss the most about my now defunct lover Mellow, besides his dick, was his eyes. They were a beautiful hazel/green hue that did nothing to hurt the panty-dropping power of his confidence and swagger. The thing about those beautiful eyes of his, was that he would use them to as a weapon during sex. Usually, he was a very vocal fuck, talking shit, manhandling me and giving me orders on which position to assume. But when we had just had an argument or he would get jealous of another man I was dating, the fucking would slow down and he would torture me with long strokes and equally long stares.

He was deliberate. He would look me straight in the eyes while he was thrusting and ask, "Does he fuck you like me? Huh?" His face would be a cross between stern and focused and each word was said slowly and punctuated by deep thrusting. I would moan "Unh Uh," not because I meant it, but because the dick was to good to get into a debate about the truth. He stared at me. Start to fuck me harder and then reach one hand up to my face, squeezing my cheeks. Silent, but still staring into my eyes as he started to fuck me harder. Deeper. Still slow, though. He was still concentrated on something on my face, not moving his deadly eyes away from me. He moved his hand from my face and grabbed a palmful of breast. Sighing, but still staring..right at me. Shit, they were so fucking sexy, those eyes. I was about to cum, melt all over his dick. If that's what all this staring shit was about, it was working. I was so turned on and kind of embarrassed. What the fuck was he looking at?

I could tell by his stroke that he was about to cum soon, which was perfect, because I could barely hold mine in much longer. He grabbed a handful of my locs and steadied his eyes on mine. We stared at each other as he long-dicked me to a shuddering orgasm. Then he finally broke his gaze as he pulled me into his chest and let his blow.

After he had gone home. I had showered and was checking out my face in the mirror, when something caught my eyes. I leaned in closer and stared. I was seeing what he was looking at earlier. I smirked, you really can see it.

You're one hot bitch, Pink. And you know it.

My reflection. It is, indeed, a hot one.

Check out the others' sexy reflections with Kimberly of The Errant Wife and see who else is taking part in this month's group post: the Duchess, Hubman, Veronica, Ms Scarlett, Aurore, Topaz, Enchanted Mistress, Petal, Ronjazz, Autumn, Britni, Library Vixen, Adulterous Letch, Danimo, Lolita, and Bri.

Playcation

Everyone knows what a Staycation is, right? It's a term coined during this recession to describe when people choose to do something fun and entertaining at home, in lieu of spending money they don't have on extracurricular activities. Well, often times, I find myself in a dick recession. And when I do, I take a Playcation.

A Playcation is when you clear your calendar, call into work and turn your phone ringer down or off, so that you can spend the whole day catching upon some self-love. Now, granted, having someone there to assist in the pleasure is always great, but many of you ladies (and men) can relate to the moments when you're either in between lovers, or not in the mood to deal with any of them! No primping for a date. No waiting for him/her to make the commute. No disappointment when they're done and you're not. On a playcation, you choose your own itinerary.

If you want to set the mood by lighting candles, incense and starting with a bubble bath, you can. If you want to jump straight into bed, favorite sex toys scattered around humping each one until you cum yourself to sleep, you can. Or if you just want to make it a lazy day and prefer to sit up at your desk, squeezing your nipples and hand in your panties while reading some erotic stories online, you can. For your playcation, you can listen to Maxwell, Trick Daddy or Jill Scott. No matter. Whatever you like. If you want to turn on a porn flick and see if you can fuck yourself til you out scream the bitch on screen...knock yourself out.

My preferred Playcation includes me, my pocket rocket and clit-cumming until I'm desensitized and waking up with a barely purring toy, still turned on, in bed next to me. Ah, haven't done that in a while.

It's time to have yourself a Playcation. Let your orgasms take you away...

Next time you take a playcation, come back and tell us about it.

Laundry Day

I've really got to invest in a mattress pad. Really.

I came to this realization while standing over my messy sheets after Mr. Boombastic had thrashed my ass, yet again. I stripped the bed and smirked to myself as only a few weeks before, I had thought of squirting as some realm of reality that I may never reach. But I had. This fucker had indeed found a direct route to my pleasure spot and he was skillful enough to know when to put it to work and how much.

Tonight, he had spent quite some time building me up, priming me for the main event. It began with a foot massage, I started melting almost immediately as his strong hands moved up my legs mashing and groping masterfully. He knew he had loosened me up, so the next place he massaged was between my legs. My heart began racing immediately. He reached under my dress and into my panties and pressed first his palm, then finger into my already wet pussy.

He had me on my poor sofa, writhing and moaning, while he was knuckles deep inside me. I bucked against his hand and placed my hand on top of his, trying to pull his finger out and catch my breath. He didn't allow it, pressing into my g-spot harder and reaching up with the other hand to squeeze my nipple for good measure. I reached over to feel his dick, which he had just barely removed from his pants. About 1/3 of his dick was sticking out of the top of his boxers and I decided to tease him, as he had teased me.

I straddled his lap and started to kiss and lick his ears. Meanwhile, I whined my hips against him, rubbing my clit across his dickhead with each grind. I bucked and rotated my hips as if he were inside me, and ended up getting just as turned on as he was (if not more) by the feeling of my clit rubbing against him. I felt an orgasm coming, and I started to grind harder and move my hips faster. I leaned into his ear and told him I was cumming. Then I bounced on him harder when I did. It was time to take this party to the bedroom.

As soon as he laid on the bed, I took his dick into my mouth. I was primed up and horny as a muthafucker, no time for the preliminary bullshit. His dick went from almost to 100% hard once I put my soft lips on it. I licked and slurped the head, then used both my hands to stroke it up and down while I sucked the head. After a while of torturing him with excellent head, he told me to lay on my stomach. I knew what was coming next. He mounted me from behind and pushed his huge dick into me. Just as I got adjusted to him stretching me. He reached around under me and put his hands on my clit. Flicking and pressing it as he started to fuck me from behind. I was in heaven. I'm sure my neighbors were in hell. I was cumming every few minutes and loud as a muthafucker. Shit.

He kept commenting on how wet I was, but we didn't realize really how wet until we were done and I stepped away from the bed and looked down. There were three huge wet spots, much larger than your average spot. Thank goodness there were two layers of sheets. It looks like Mr. Boombastic made it rain again. Sigh. I guess tomorrow will be laundry day.


Have you ever had someone make you cum so hard, you were beside yourself?