All of It

I was thinking yesterday.

I was marveling. At how much it kept getting better. Over time.
I was wondering what I missed about it.

If I had to pick a thing. If I just couldn't say...EVERYTHING.

Is it your moaning?
That I miss most.
Or the tight pink peak of your nipples when you're aroused.

Is it the trashing?
Or the lightly red hair there. The musky smells. The sweetness. The simple joy in just laying my face there. Before I even taste you.

Is it the tension, deep in my belly? As soon as I put my hands on you. The wetness that forms between my own legs, as I begin to run my hands over your hips.

I wonder if it is the first breath I take when you're laying in front of me. Or the tiny bites up your thighs.
The first touch. The first moment my tongue touches you there. And I stop. Breathing deeply. Because it never disappoints. Because it's always better than the last time. And then the deep tasting. My eagerness. As though there won't be enough of you for me to have.

Is it burying my tongue there? Nibbling. Holding you between my tongue and upper lip. Keeping my hands on you. Touching you places where there is more of you to enjoy than meets the eye.
Is it how my tasting dispells myths. How you like to be laved everywhere. EVERYwhere. The outer and inner spaces. The space between. Your shivering, and writhing beneath my mouth. The sound of you...the rhythm of our call and response.

Is it putting my fingers inside as I'm tasting? And feeling you there. All of you. Incomprehensibly tight and open at once. Wet to dripping, wanting. Giving me so much in your surrender. More than I knew to find there. More than I knew to take. More. Than ever.

I don't want you less. I haven't forgotten. I remember. All of it.

What is one to do? When memories are like torture and the future lays ahead without solutions?

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

The Drought is Over

"I'll spare you the details but the drought is over."

My heart skipped a beat as the meaning behind his words begun to register. Things with his girlfriend had been rocky over the last few months and intimacy was almost non-existent. But now, now things had changed. I tried hard not to think of the details but I couldn't help it.

I imagined him slowly undressing her, as he had done me. Pushing her long curls behind her ears, cupping her face and slowly kissing her lips. Kissing all over her face. Returning to her lips and tonguing her.

Freeing her boobs from her bra with a quick hand motion, as he had done with me. Slowly sucking and licking each nipple in ways that I am not quite capable of describing. But the feeling was heavenly and brought instant wetness to my lower region.

I painfully imagined him making his way to her secret area and using her legs as earmuffs as he fed...

ENOUGH. No more imagining for me. It was too hurtful to further imagine. It's just that I view what WE share as sacred and special. Something that should not be shared with others. The irony of me not wanting to share is that he is not mine. Not fully. As I am the other woman, she is unknowingly sharing him with me. I guess I'm fine with this because it benefits me but I have a problem sharing. I don't want to share him. I want him all to myself. I love him, he loves me but it's "complicated."

A few hours after our phone convo, I was able to compose myself and give the situation some greater thought. I sent My Guy a text message, "I'm not gonna give you grief baby. I understand. Really I do. The platonic side of me is very happy for you. You deserve peace at home. You deserve to look fwd to going home. You deserve to be desired by your primary. You deserve to have sex initiated. You deserve to spend the night making luv and being made luv 2. You deserve a strong connection - mental, physical and emotional. I won't begrudge u these things baby - I won't. "

It seems I need to accept that these are the feelings that come with Reticent Love. :-(

What do you do when you have no right to feel how you feel?

Geek Sexual Adventures

I pride myself on my adventurous tastes in terms of sexual partners. I enjoyed so many different flavors, and tastes but I never had a geek for a lover. I define a "geek" as the guy wearing glasses, talking computer code for come-on lines, and obsessing over the latest tech gadget or software. They find more pleasure in talking to the computer than talking to people.

So imagine my surprise when I encounter a handsome African-American geek hosting a fight party at his home. I'll name him "QT-Geek". Throughout the night, I spied QT-Geek eying me and I doing the same to him. A few times, he caught me in a corner and sparked crazy conversation about his current work project (computer jargon I failed to understand). As the night wore on, I found myself the last to leave. As I gather my coat, he says, "could you stay so I can get to know you better?" As a sweet southern belle, of course I complied. We talked for hours about various topics. He was well versed in politics, television (we shared a mutual love for True Blood), and sex. As night turned to dawn, we ended the night with a wet kiss and exchange of digits.

For the next few months, we encountered each other at events all over town. So, on Superbowl weekend, we ran into each other again and decided to expound on our conversation physically.

First, QT-Geek is a sloppy kisser. He explores the mouth with his huge tongue that sometimes gets out of control and licks the face. Second, QT-Geek pulled several tricks out of his sleeve when we proceed to sexual pleasures. He teased my nipples ever so gently then began biting so hard that I actually came. He sucked my nipples, breasts, and gave me several hickeys. (Who still gives hickeys in 2011?). QT-Geek was somewhat rough when he removed my clothing. He pulled my jeans down, slightly ripping my thong, and with slight force bending me over so he may insert his penis into my anal canal. While he grind my anal jewels, he held my arms behind me and instructed me on when and how to moan. I was not sure if this was the same guy who entertained me with tales from his work at a computer giant or made me laugh with some of his corny jokes.
Next, I found myself bound by his firm grip on the floor with my nipples gripped by his teeth. He continued to suck, bite, and pull my nipples until I came again. Whenever he came up for air, he instructed me to "stop wiggling" or "be still". He told me that resistance leads to further "punishment". This "punishment" continued for several hours between anal sex, doggie style play with my pussy, and titty punishment.
Once I said "uncle", he released me. QT-Geek took me into a bear hug and planted kisses on my lips and face. So, I received pleasure and pain in one night from a geek gentleman with a large kink sex drive.
So dare I say, I found my kink match....
Should this sweet southern belle continue to receive punishment from QT-Geek?
Do we need to establish rules to continue this "punishment' play?
Since I enjoyed this sexual adventure, am I still a southern belle?

Anal Play and Slay

Big Sexy (BSx) and I were spooning on the right side of the bed and I got aroused. My body immediately began to gyrate, my ass pressing into his groin. Soon he was pinching my nipples and I was uncontrollably rocking back into his crotch. "Give me a kiss," he said in his gruff voice that was too capable of melting me. Maintaining my spooning position, I turned my head around, looking deeply into his eyes and began to tongue him. All the while I was still grinding my ass into his crotch. He pulled away from our kiss, reached down and shimmied down my lace boy-shorts panties. I assisted by kicking them off.

I grinded deeper and deeper against his fully-erect manhood and he pushed into me. "GASP." He was at the entrance of my ass and not my pussy. He spooned me tighter and I felt the pressure of his tip against my asshole. Between the effects of gravity on his 250lb muscular body and the width of his control-taking cock, I was really feeling the pressure. He pushed harder and harder, going slightly deeper and deeper with every stroke. Because I was mentally relaxed and excited, my anal muscles were relaxed, allowing for easier entry. I gasped through every stroke, caught at the crossroad between pleasure and pain. I just knew that my nails would destroy the bed linens because I was grabbing and digging into them so tightly in order to cushion the anal blows that Big Sexy was inflicting with every stroke.

BSx: "You okay baby?,"
Me: Yeeessssssss," I managed to moan.
BSx: "You don't look like you're alright baby. You don't look like you're okay."
Me: "I am," I quivered as he slowly penetrated me further
BSx: "I don't think so baby. I'm gonna stop."
Me: "NOooooo, I want to continue," I said. I really wanted to experience this with him and this was as a good a time as any.
BSx: "I'm not going to move. I'm going to stay still and you do what you can – what you're comfortable with."

His concern for me and lack of selfishness was a turn on. I wanted to give myself to him wholly. Thus my response to his question was not verbal but physical. I shifted my weight onto my upper body, planting my arms firmly into the mattress, slightly lifted my ass of the bed and pushed back onto his cock, taking it into my ass as deep as I could. I slide up and down a few times so his tip could penetrate me further and further. Soon, I felt his cock break my initial anal barrier and my muscles wrap around his shaft.

After BSx saw that I could handle him, he switched to deep strokes. He slew me like I was a bull and he was a matador. I thoroughly enjoyed my anal death. Moans and mutterings from him like, "Your ass feels so fucking good baby," made me wilder and encouraged me to push into him deeper. I bounced by butt cheeks off his crotch and cock like a rubber ball.

I enjoyed every aspect of the experience with Big Sexy. Can't wait to do it again!

When's the last time, you were anally slayed?

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"?