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.

Sleepfuck Me, Baby (A Vignette featuring The Professional)

It was about 3 a.m. The Professional had fucked me all night long, I’d sucked him into oblivion several times…and we were still going. My poor sofa had been christened a milli times over, and I was on my knees palms were flat up against the wall, I was getting it good from behind. My locs were damp and in my face, tits bouncing with each thrust. When I turned back to look at him his face was red and concentrated, his perfect form made me sigh as he continued to bang the shit out of me. He turned me onto my back and started to pile drive me into yet another leg-trembling orgasm. He smiled, pounded harder and said, “Oh yeah?” as I cursed and announced I was cumming. He let me regain my composure and suggested we move to the bed.

I followed The Professional into my bed and got in. He lay down and motioned for me to get on top. I sat on his dick and ground my hips, rocked and bounced. I kept going until I came again and then he grabbed me and turned me over. On my back now, he pushed inside me and pressed up against me. Slowly, he began to massage my g-spot with each stroke. I was moaning and groaning and his movements were so smooth, so fluid…almost as if he was on cruise control. He was even so into it, he had gotten completely quiet. Well, not exactly.

I was grinding my pussy back up into him when I hear, “S-N-N-N-R-G.” Um, Hello? I know this dude isn’t snoring? Is he..?

*Tap, tap* “Are you sleeping?” I asked him. Have incredulous, half laughing. “Do you know your ass was just sleepfucking me?” I said. “I wasn’t sleeping,” he said. And started to thrust deeper. At this point, I was laughing, and in amazement that this guy could manage to sleep and continue to fuck simultaneously. The Professional truly is committed to his work. But unlike him, I could not sleep and fuck simultaneously, so I told him to go ahead and roll his ass off of me so we could both get some sleep. He pumped a few more times for good measure and we both tapped out. Simultaneously.

Have you ever gotten it so good, your body had to force you to stop?

Bow Chicka Bow Wow: "The Professional"

The World Wide Web is so useful for connecting people with the things that they need. Hungry people can look up the nearest food delivery spot; budget divas can find discounted clothes; and every now and again, Pink runs up on some good dick.

Enter The Professional.

It started out, as fairly amicable tweets between two fellow herb-smoking fuckalots. Both of us, were also committed to enjoying sex: I write about fucking, and he, well, he fucks. The Professional works in the adult industry, and though I didn't know it then, I know now that he is an EXPERT at his craft. No bullshit.

I'd been alerted via tweet that The Professional was coming in town, so being the hospitable person I am, I tweeted back, letting him know that when he touched down, I'd be down for an herbal session, or whatever...he was down. I had every intention of getting a free screening of his cumming attractions, but I liked the little game we were trying to play.. lol, as if neither of us already knew what kind of straight fucking we'd be engaged in. I'd never fucked a Pro before, and though I've been told I'm skilled in various areas, I wanted to see if I could hold my own with a man who literally fucks for a living!

When I pulled into the Arrivals deck of MIA (I had offered to pick him up), I started thinking about what he looked like in his pictures online--partly, because I wanted to be able to find him and partly because if he didn't look like he did online I was gonna keep on trucking and Homie would have to make alternate arrangements! There he is! Ahh, he's still a cutie...but damn, he's slim.

Lord, please don't let me break this boy. ("Heh," God replied. "You have no idea")

He gets in the car, hyper and friendly as a muthafucker. We make small talk, ran a quick herb errand and then head to the beach, where Pink's Lair is (or, the Bat Cave..which I later heard him refer to it as, I still need to ask about that). In the car, I knew things would get unscripted when I look out the corner of my eye and saw him unbuttoning his pants. He said something, which I vaguely remember hearing, and I looked, almost ran off the road because I thought he was going to whip out his Cockus Maximus...but he didn't. He was trying to show me a tattoo. Shit, ne-ga-ro!! When one goes unbuttoning, Pink's expecting to see some meat. Boy almost made me die BEFORE sex... which is a bad look all around. I didn't even see that damn tattoo all that well--though I did get eye to eye with it a little later-- Put it away, Homie. For now, at least.

So we get to my house and we're chilling. Getting lifted and laughing..a lot. This guy is funny as hell and I'm sure that added to me wanting to fuck the shit out of him as soon as the bud kicked in. He sat back and I saw his woody. "Wow," I though. Pretty substantial tent for such a little guy. He says, "I've got the munchies." I'm high as hell, too, so I start offering him popcorn, chips, juice....He cut me off, looked towards my crotch region and said, "I wanna eat that." Ah, hem. My bad. Knock your self out, Homie. And he did. His oral skills were on POINT and I was just about to cum the third time when he lifted his head and flipped me over (strong dude, yo) and pushed all up in my throat. Holy shit. The Professional commenced to fuck the shit out of me. On my side. Back. Stomach. Knees. Legs up. Legs back. Me on top. Bent over....About an hour or so in, I don't think he stopped for longer than the time it took to instruct me into the next position. Okay, okay, OKAYY!! Am I still cumming? WTF?

"You ready to tap out?" He asked. Smirking. "Hell no," I said. I had talked enough shit, I was going to take this beating like a woman. He sat back and I put my mouth over his dick. Partly to buy my pussy some recuperation time, and partly to repay him for the proper thrashing he was putting on me. I started to engulf him and he sucked in his breath, I knew he would like it. I swirled my tongue around the head and pressed my tongue along the underside of his dick while I took it all the way down my throat. I gulped on it, letting his head feel my muscle tighten and pulse around him. "Oh, shit," he said. Repeatedly. I knew he had enjoyed the pussy, all of that pounding, how could he not? But the head game. This is what had him making what I can only guess was the hardest "Oh-face" he could manage. I started to suck faster, then slower. Alternating between sucking the head and deepthroating. He was loving it, and from how wet my pussy was getting, I was loving it more. I was continuing my special attention when he pulled me off him, pushed me onto my back and slid into me. He pushed my legs back to my chest and pounded the shit out of my pussy. It was amazing! He had found my g-spot and his dick was banging into it with a porn star's furor. And he kept going. And going. And going....

We started fucking around 7 p.m. Took a few hydro and hydration breaks. We finally hit the sheets around 3 a.m. The Professional had fucked me for 8 hours, no pills...no enhancements...just a very lovely dick, youthful stamina and a true commitment to his craft.

Before I went to bed, Sheba texts me, "Girl, did you break him?"

I replied, "Hell no girl. I think he broke me."

To be continued...

Have you ever fucked a Professional? Did you hold your own?