Saturday, June 30, 2012 0 comments

Big, beautiful, black and addicted?! Pt. 2

See, this article gets it. It article describes the ideas behind who or what is perceived as a sexual addict. Successful Americans who exhibit a high out of control sex drive are more apt to be labelled addicted to sex. A minority, especially a black woman, is often seen as hypersexual. Increased sexual activity, or hypersexuality, is a facet of many disorders such a manic depression, sexual addiction, some personality disorders, and some victims of child sexual abuse will exhibit hypersexual traits during puberty and beyond.

Let's see. I grapple with manic depression, a personality disorder (none of your business :P), and I was the victim of child sexual abuse. I don't want to lay the blame solely on those factors, but I think they are contributing causes for my addiction. As I meet more sexual addicts, I often meet people from different walks of life who have the same or similar life stories. Sexual abuse, abandonment as a child, mental problems, other addictions.

This part especially drove home the point I have been trying to make, and I could identify myself in it:

"Generally, a sexual addict gains little pleasure from sexual activity and is unable to form a bond with his or her partner. The actions of a hyper-sexual often lead to feelings of guilt, embarrassment and shame. The sexual addict overlooks the risks and consequences, be it financial, health, social or emotional.
Hyper-sexuality can be a result of adrenal gland abnormalities or disease, bipolar disorder sometimes referred to as manic depressive disorder and often associated with juvenile hyper-sexuality, puberty, frontal lobe trauma; it has also been observed in the elderly suffering from dementia."

I derive little sexual pleasure from my acting out, this week notwithstanding. In fact, I sometimes experience pain or injury as a result. I don't feel very empowered with my ass up in the air and my face on the ground. After the experience is over, I freak out about the consequences. When I'm riding the moment to hell, nothing affects me. Afterwards I have to pick up all the pieces and try to prevent it from happening again.

I will write on this more later, but I thought this was a great find for others like me out there experiencing this. We hide ashamed, feeling guilty and hurting inside. If more people came out about their struggles, maybe people would have more understanding for us. Sometimes I doubt it though. Sexual addiction, especially among poor black women is still seen as a moral issue and not as a mental health one. Public opinion says that we just need to control ourselves. Stop having babies. Lose weight. Hide behind (marry) a man. Control our unbridled sexuality. Just Disappear.

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Sex addiction as a form of self injury or harm






When you think of self-injury, you tend to think of emoish teen girls cutting themselves. Or maybe binging and purging. You never think sex. Sex is supposed to be about intimacy or bonding oneself to another person. Can you use sex to harm yourself? How can something that's supposed to feel good hurt so much?

I finally realized some things about myself. I use sex, especially unprotected sex that leads to multiple pregnancies. as a way to hurt myself. I feel better when I'm bogged down in another crisis pregnancy, or trying to decide what to do. It's an opportunity to care for myself and find attention. I can show myself the attention and caring I never received during my rapes or abuse at home.

There have been many times where I had sex to the point of pain. Then had more sex to further irritate myself. This week I had so much sex that it hurt to even sit down. I can masturbate for hours, even after my clitoris burns. The way that I have sex is in itself, very harmful.

Usually, I perform oral sex on a man, while minimizing his chances to touch me. Once he is hard (if he didn't arrive that way), I will get on all fours with my face touching the ground, and push my ass towards him. When he's in, I encourage my partner to act 'abusive'. I will tell him to call me names such as bitch, whore or slut. Another biggie is to make him pump me as hard as possible, even if it hurts. If the man hits me, I become very aroused. To just thoroughly abuse and misuse me during sex.

I've managed to restrain myself from asking to be held down or forced. I've really wanted to ask a man to force me to take his cock, but I'm scared of the reaction. Many guys might be scared they'll be accused of rape, or wonder about my mental state. But sometimes I want to. Instead I allow any man who looks good to lay on top of me, or push me up against a wall and pull my panties down. I even let some of them cum inside me.

Even though I want to avoid diseases and pregnancy, I feel better if I let them unload inside me. I feel degraded and like a true whore when a man's semen is running down my legs or pooling in my panties. Because of health issues, my choices of contraceptive are limited to polyurethane condoms or spermicidal. When I become hypomanic, I don't take care of my sexual health the way I should. It's easier to ignore it, or it doesn't come up. 

When I'm manic, it's like my mind is on fire, but I don't notice. I just flit from thing to thing, never lingering for long in one place. It's hard to remember birth control at those moments. My attention tends to be focused on my family and on really stupid shit. Many, though not all, of my pregnancies were conceived when I was either hypomanic or acting out sexually because of my addiction. Once I come down from that, I have to face the consequences of what I've done. I think I even conceived once while selling myself. Selling sex may be another way I abuse myself. Forcing myself to be with men for sex confirms how I feel about myself. I put on a brave face, but inside it's killing me.

Thursday, June 28, 2012 0 comments

"Stand up"

Well, I'm sitting here listening to Lil Wayne thinking about an encounter I just had. Devon seemed like the kind of man I normally have sex with. Except he wasn't. His intensity scared me and I shied away from his eyes much of the time as it seemed he could truly see to the center of me. Something happened which I've never had happen before.

I went down on my knees as usual. My sexual encounters have a very ritualistic manner to them. The guy touches me a little, then I fall to my knees and suck him until it's time to have sex. No one has ever did what Devon did tonight. He told me to stand up. He kissed and savored my body in a way few men ever have. I'm blown.

I'm so used to sliding to my knees to receive some guy's cock in my mouth. Whether for free, or because I'm getting paid, it's what I do. I know a lot of it has to do with the experiences I had at 12 with an almost 19 year old man. He used me as his personal suck machine every time he would see me. Something like that sticks with you.

I can say I have never had my pussy so thoroughly loved in its whole life. My G-spot was caressed, massaged, rubbed and rocked. Yes rocked. I was so wet after awhile that he slid several fingers inside me and it was like a mini introduction to fisting. He didn't hurt me, in fact he ignited passions, sensations and nerves I didn't know I had. My legs were in the air, and I clenched down on him like a fist. I had to cover my mouth at one point to keep from screaming. I'm sure I had a few mini orgasms around his hand before I stopped him to offer that blow job again. All I can say is wow.

Wednesday, June 27, 2012 0 comments

Big, beautiful, black and addicted?!

When most people think about sexual addiction, they're thinking about a man. A white male in his 20's or 30's. Middle class. Educated. Married. They're not thinking about a person of color, poor, or female. There are words for what we are and it has nothing to do with addiction. Immoral. Licentious. Promiscuous. Nonwhites, the poor and women are never allowed to have reasons for their failings. Instead our shortcomings are supposed to be hard coded into our DNA and reinforced through "negative" cultural practices and standards. Bullshit.

I don't know why I'm like this. I know that many things have combined to make me this way. Experiences, choices and luck have all mixed together to make me the way that I am. To many people, it seems incongruous that a person like me could not only be addicted to sex, but actually have it that often. I often fight the assumptions from others that a big woman is desperate, promiscuous and has few options. I have options and I exercise them regularly.

I've been approached and approach. While my preference as of late is young and athletic, I have had sex with chubby and skinny men as well. I've been sought out, desired, stalked and maybe loved. Even at my dustiest and most broken, I've had options and someone sniffing at me. Even if I really didn't want them to lol.

Lately it amazes me the number of men who are searching for a bigger woman, especially one of color or older. Men who are pretty desirable and who you would expect to find on the arm of an equally attractive girl. As I have said before, I know I'm not pretty. But I have sex appeal in buckets. My body drips sex and I send out feelers towards men that they can understand.

Most of my life, I've felt inadequate. I was scarred from the time I spent enrolled at a private school. Most of the children were the offspring of multigenerational mixed race parents. Parents like mine. Only problem was I took more after the African side of the family than the more "exotic" sides. If students weren't light, bright and damn near white, they had money or were smart. That's the only way you got in there. I was smart. One boy in particular made my time a daily hell. His personal nickname for me was 'Blackie' which he used to describe my copper colored skin. The boy was almost coal colored. When I called him on it, he let me know that it was ok for men to be so dark, but that it was wrong for a woman to be so black.

I remember being made to feel inadequate for my skin color and hair. There was a boy in our class who showed an interest in me above and beyond that of the other girls. You'd be surprised how much a pair of C cup breasts will influence a fourth grade boy! We were caught kissing, and only I was punished by our teacher. She beat it into me that I was nasty, promiscuous and that I sullying that poor mulatto boy with my whorish behavior. Little wonder I withdrew even more into myself. This was the first positive thing that had happened to me since my rape that year, and that teacher made me feel so dirty about it. I think part of it was that she knew about the rape and felt it had tainted me somehow.

At home, my mother never made me feel inadequate about my color. She had plenty of fodder with my weight and hair. I was always 10-15 lbs overweight, and she made sure I knew that she was much smaller at my age. I can remember growing out of my favorite pair of yellow pants and feeling like shit because I was too fat to fit them anymore. I was 8 and already hated my body. Eventually I stopped eating except for dinner and a snack. Soon I would binge, purge and starve my body in an effort to slim it.

My hair is mostly nappy with a looser texture towards the back, unlike her curly and wavy mane. I would ask why mine had to be so ugly and she would explain to me that we had different fathers. That my grandfather had given her that, and mine had cursed me with this. She made sure I understood that I shouldn't make a baby with a man who had nappy hair. And I knew how important it was to maintain the racial composition of our family. So I coveted mainly mixed looking guys who resembled my grandfathers and stayed away from darker men who could give me babies with nappy hair and dark skin. To this day if you asked me, I would say that my skin color looks closest to Alek Wek, even though my skin is much, much lighter than that. It's how I perceive myself.

By the time I was in my late teens and early twenties, I was using my body to gain attention and  make money. I think my addictions stem from my need to control uncomfortable emotions, situations and thoughts. Instead of thinking about my rapes, I could snort, smoke and fuck myself into numbness. Sometimes it worked. I'm going to end it there, but I will try to write more in depth with issues of addiction on this blog. Sometimes people have these preconceived ideas of how a group of people will behave. My purpose for this blog, along with telling my story, is to shatter that mindset. Addicts are people.





Monday, June 25, 2012 0 comments

A temporary setback

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Friday, June 22, 2012 8 comments

Who's out there listening?

I just have one thing to say. Please comment. I know someone is reading this, but no one ever leaves comments. I feel kinda vulnerable here and I wonder what others think about the stuff I've been writing. Plus it would be nice to know what else you guys would like to read about. I mostly flow with what's happening in my life or on my mind. If you have a special request, want me to talk about something or have questions, this is your chance. Speak up!
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Laissez les bons temps rouler



As much as I go on and on about my love of women, all I tend to talk about on here is "teh menz". So I'm going to post a little quick something about them. I love them. Their bodies, pussies, faces, skin, smell. All that. If I could live in a world of nothing but titties, I could die happy! I'm just highly intimidated by women.

For a month now, I've been trying to find a female friend I can take things slow with. Hear me well, there is no shortage of cute guys willing to have sex with me. There does seem to be a dearth of eligible ladies. I think part of it is that I'm a mother.

I have small children and to many so called "gold star" lesbians, that is a no no. That tells them that I've been fucked by men, and I may have liked it! Why else would I have so many children? There was a blog post I read a few weeks back where this black lesbian castigated so-called fake black lesbians with kids. She all but called us whores. She felt there was no way a woman could wake up years down the line with several kids, a marriage or a man and go "I'm gay". For the record, I didn't. I knew even before my first lesbian experience at 10, that I was sprung on women. Boys and men did nothing for me. The blogger felt most single moms were compensating for the lack of cock by using a stud to fill that need.

I sleep with men because I can't allow myself to be with a woman. I've done it so long, I don't know if I can stop. It's really hard to call myself a bisexual as my father is one, and I don't want to ever be anything that is associated with him. The dislike goes that deep. Plus bisexual screams, fucks anything. I know, I know, but bear with me.

I have only a slight attraction to masculine lesbians and bisexual women. If I had to put into words what I like, it would go something like this: Not skinny, at least 30, black, big breasts and booty and a good head on her shoulders. I have always preferred to date those with kids, once I had some of my own. I also feel that a woman is most beautiful between the ages of 25-45. She comes into her own. Her body is softer, and I find the way a woman's body looks after kids to be very sensual. I love the curves.

It's seems strange that I prefer older women, or "Milf" types. I tend to have sex with men younger than me as I don't find guys in their 30s all that attractive. Their bodies have started to soften, their sex drive is less "driven", plus they exhibit many behaviors that I cannot tolerate. Who wants to put up with a decade's worth of man-PMS? I don't!

Many times I have slept with men to fulfill my urges for women. I tended to choose androgynous men, or those who had feminine ways. If I couldn't have some pussy, that was the next best thing. Now, I feel sad because I missed out on so many years of good sex and relationships with women by trying to please others.

I know a lot of my attraction to older women is based on my relationship with my mother, as well as other women in my life as a child. As much as I loved my "second mama", she still turned my head as well. She was a bad bitch. She always had her hair right, wore outfits that accentuated her figure without revealing too much, and knew how to handle men. Much of what I know about seducing men and manipulating them came from her. She taught me never to be sorry about the things I do, or to have regrets. I don't know if that has helped or hindered me in life.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012 0 comments

Whisper sweet things to me




Today has been kinda strange for me. I spent a lot of time thinking about Gael, a former lover of mine. He was short, chubby and Latino, and he screwed me into the ground. I originally slept with him in order to make him stop calling me. I figured that once he got what he wanted, he'd stop coming around. Didn't quite work that way.

When Gael knocked on my door, my friend took one look and told me to send his chubby ass home. He wasn't the sexiest guy, but then I'm not the sexiest girl. I just happen to have big breasts and an extremely tight vagina, but I digress. I let him in and she took the kids to the park for the afternoon. After a false start, we got down to business.

He took such pleasure in exploring my body and touching it. He made my thighs tremble and my insides melt when he tasted me. There was an early mishap that almost derailed things, but we were able to overcome it. I was still lactating. He sucked on my nipple and immediately received a mouthful of milk which he promptly spat out. I was simultaneously insulted and embarrassed. How dare he reject my milk, and omg that didn't just happen.

A previous lover, Alain, loved my breasts. He would spend almost an hour sucking, kneading, playing and pulling at them and had me quite worked up when he was done. He also had the habit of going 'Mmm' when he would suck my nipples. I wondered at times if he was sucking the milk from them, but I was too prudish to ask. Gael barely sucked my nipple and got a mouthful, so I'm sure Alain was getting more than titty out of it. I just know that I would feel really content and hot when he was doing it. Every time we met, he would go straight for my breasts.

Another boyfriend (the pimp) demanded that I keep up my milk supply once my baby was weaned. A big 'selling' point to his friends was that I was still lactating. Also the tight vagina lol. My ex also loved sucking on my nipples in order to drain my breasts of milk.

Gael, was not turned on by my milk, but there were other things we could do. That afternoon we made love in every position and even a few I didn't know possible. At times we would fuck vigorously, before settling down into gentle love making. I was turned on completely by the sound of our sex music, and my whole body was inflamed and alive. We spent time pillow talking with each other which was something I wasn't accustomed to.

One of the things I loved the most was when he would call me Mamis (yes Mamis not Mami lol). he would say it in this cute Spanish accent that no one else in his family seemed to have. I loved, loved to hear him moan that out when he was buried deep inside me, on the edge of his own orgasm. Speaking of which, I came so easily with him. I don't normally cum from sexual intercourse, unless I'm on top, so it was surprising to say the least when my body began to shake and my pussy exploded from the inside out. Once I relaxed, I was having multiple orgasms with him and completely drenching his cock.

Our favorite positions those first few times were doggy-style, cowgirl (reverse, normal and Asian cowgirl), side-lying and standing up. I had planned on a quick ten minute encounter that ended up bridging 2 days and 13 hours. Once I was on his cock, I couldn't get off. It was like my brain would switch off and and all sensations would go straight to my pussy. I needed him inside me. It was like there was this itch that only he could soothe, inside of me. We had sex for about 7 hours the first day, and he came back and we made love for another 6 hours the second day. It was nice to have the time and leisure to spend having sex without worrying about other stuff.

Eventually I had to tell him to stop coming everyday, as I had children to care for and other obligations. The kids were with my friend and out of the house when he was over both times, but I didn't like how I had surrendered so easily into being with him. That first day, when I had planned never to see him again, he asked for exclusivity within a serious relationship. Little did I know the sex was as good as it was going to get, and that he was hiding his real personality from me.



2 comments

Fuck the pain away - Update

I got an interesting reply to my one of my profiles online. Mr. Horrible Sex sent me a message telling me how he wanted to meet, and just totally trying to fuck with me. Only thing is, I already had sex with him. This fool just doesn't remember lol. Part of me wishes I could put a sticker on his forehead or back that warned other women about how horrible his sex is. How is your dick that big, yet you can't fuck??? Are you seriously kidding me?

This did hammer home a good point to me. Never assume that someone you are sleeping with isn't doing the same thing as you and sleeping with a lot of others too. I didn't even humor his message with a response, but that was mind blowing.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012 0 comments

What next?




Today was a hard day for me. I acted out a lot today, texting, emailing and chatting with random men. There was the Haitian who has what I suspect is a tiny penis. The younger guy looking to have sex with an older woman. The ABM (Angry Black Male) who blew up at me for refusing to give him head since we couldn't have sex while I was on my period. But tonight he's blowing up my cell because he says he's hungry and he's looking to have some "dessert". He wants a piece of me tonight.

There was also the nice white guy from Nevada who I'll never meet but who talks to me sweet. Lastly, there's the guy who will be referred to henceforth as OMG, as he has a penis about 12 inches long and as far around as a can of coke. And those are just the notables. I talked with around 25 men today. It's getting hard to keep straight who is who.

Some I want to meet, others I won't because I recognize that they are dangerous. ABM and the Haitian kinda scare me. I know that ABM will take his anger at other women (mostly black) out on my body and ass. He has consistently tried to push my boundaries beyond what I feel is comfortable. I hate being manipulated, and I know he would manipulate me into doing things I don't want to do. Things which always leave me feeling like shit.

I might meet OMG as I really want to fuck him. His cock looks like a piece of the sweetest milk chocolate you have ever seen. His hand can barely make a fist around it. He's caramel colored with a long athletic body covered in tats. He's in his late twenties and you can tell the boy works out, in and out of bed. I can already tell he would wear my ass out, like the other youngin two weeks ago.

Only problem is, I'm miserable. Absolutely miserable. I want to stop but I don't know how. I want to sit on my hands so that I can stop this. I'm spiraling out of control. Cal didn't talk to me today. He seems bored because I'm not supplying him with fresh amateur porn. If he had his way, I'd be smashing dozens of black men a week. Heck a few white ones too for variety. He turns me on so much when he tells me about his ex and the things she used to do for him.

Argh, I meant to write this as a release valve, but instead I'm writing about fucking again lol. If anyone has any suggestions feel free to write to me in the comments.




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Pof.com...Again

So, I'm on pof.com again. They keep sending me notices that I have messages. I log in and there's over 60 new messages on top of the ones already there. That's in two days of not checking in. So, of course I need to read them and tidy them up, because you know, 60 plus messages. And of course I read them and and now I have numbers and niccas promising me all kinds of stuff...
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Unraveling the layers



I wanted to write today about my past. I've been kinda self-conscious about writing too much about my childhood. Especially now that I know others are reading. When I started this blog, it was like a window into a dark room that exists in my mind. I tell myself, it wasn't abuse, or even that serious. Some people are beaten, starved and worse as kids.

But when I tell someone, and see their reactions, I feel ashamed of myself. For going through it, and for sometimes enjoying it. For feeling the way I did about her. Last night, I stunned my friend into disgust and silence when I talked about the "special" relationship my mother and I had. And that my aunts had one with their daughters too.

I'm going to write about my mother a little bit. She was a single mom who took care of me the best way she knew how. She didn't dismantle the furniture I was hiding under in order to beat me like her mother did. I want to say that she didn't sexually abuse me the way her mother did, but I don't know what else I can call it.

I don't think it's normal to beat your naked child 4-5 times a day, 30 times a piece with phone cords, switches and belts. To make sexual comments about her body before or after those beatings. To touch her ass during those beatings. To force your child to lay face down, spread eagle and naked for a beating. I think she got off on this at times. She had a bdsm book in her closet and a piece of paraphernalia (a whip) that she told me 'came with the house'.

It's not normal to encourage your child to be nude, and laugh at their prudishness while baring all yourself. It makes a child uncomfortable to know that you and her father had sex during your pregnancy and while nursing. I didn't want to know that he sucked your breasts, and why be surprised that I asked if he got anything out. You put that out there.

It's not normal to compare the size of your child's vagina to her father's penis. Or how the hotness of it made you feel uncomfortable. A 10 year old child should not be encouraged to Kegel, and then given instructions on how to use those muscles at 13 on a man, using your hand as a visual. You don't ask a 10 year old child to tell you if she enjoyed her rape, and ask if it was really rape, or was it something she wanted. That you wouldn't be mad and understood if she wanted that to happen. I didn't want to know that you felt it was OK for men to have sex with kids (think 8-10), as some girls are just hot and seduce men on their own. Any orgasm your friend saw during my 3-4 hour rape was a natural consequence of genital stimulation and not 'pleasure'.

I should have been able to tell you when I became pregnant for the first time at 12. And that my cousin's almost 19 year old friend was the father. That he groomed me for a sexual relationship. That he used to come get me from school so we could have sex for hours until he was ready to take me back. That sick bastard used treats, porn and seduction to teach me to suck him off and have sex with
him. He would use the porn to teach me what to do and encourage me to try it. I would get so much praise from him when I performed the act right.

The things he taught me, I still use when I have sex, and yes I still feel shame. It was the first time I had an orgasm with anyone since I was raped at 10. It hurt being with him, but I liked how he made me feel sometimes and I loved the attention. The attention I didn't get at home. I would do anything for that, even let him almost sodomize me. No 12 year old should feel that way.

I looked 15 but he knew I wasn't. He asked and I lied and added 6 months to my age to make myself 13. He subtracted 3 from his age to make himself 16. I guess it all evened out. I was too small for him to even penetrate me for the first few times. If I could have told you, maybe I wouldn't have hooked up with him and his cousin later, when I was 19 myself.

Maybe I wouldn't have been passed from a pedophile to his cousin to the man who would later try to kill me. I was passed between them like a trading card, once they each got tired of fucking me. Because you said you would beat me if I had sex and came up pregnant, I hid my pregnancy and miscarriage and bled alone by myself in that bathroom. You found out a month or two later. And of course you went off. I still lied and told you some 13 year old kid was with me because I was too afraid to tell you the truth.

You shouldn't have tried to touch my chest and vagina then laughed when I avoided your hand. I feel ashamed to admit that with time, I came to enjoy the beatings and they stimulated me in a way I shouldn't have been. Sometimes I made you beat me because it aroused me. I spent my entire childhood that I can remember (5 and up) in a constant state of sexual arousal. I was obsessed with sex and spent most of my day masturbating for hours, or hurting my vagina by penetrating it with large objects. I liked the pain as it made me feel better. When I hurt my world would come into focus, and things would feel right again.

My mother is the one who taught me to use my body to get what I wanted, to seduce men. She simultaneously told me how nasty I was for doing it. I got some of my manipulation and hustling skills from my father, but not as much as her. I was her student and I studied her to learn right from wrong and how to survive and take care of myself. My father abandoned us when I was 2 to get high, sold his ass, and slept with men. I still hate him for leaving me with her. For claiming ignorance when I mentioned beatings.

As much as she looked down on him for his lifestyle, she mostly kept quiet about it. I suspect sometimes that my mother got up to similar, by selling herself and what not. She's the one who taught me that if you must whore for your children, never let them know, or they lose respect for you. Those were her words to me. She was full of gems like that sometimes. Because of her, I learned that the best way to keep a man was to fuck him as much as possible. Too bad that has never worked for me.

Where does a child get something like that? A girl who is raped at 10 shouldn't wonder why she wasn't a virgin when it happened. I don't remember ever having a hymen. I could write about the things I would fantasize about, but I've become overwhelmed and I need to stop writing. I was exposed to a lot as a child, but I've managed to normalize so much of it, ie my mom's friend getting me high at 2, being allowed to drink in moderation growing up. I'm going to curl up in a ball and self-soothe now (suck my thumb). Sorry. There's more that she did, but I know I purposely forget because as usual, it's too much for me to think about. I guess I have that in common with her. It was too much for her sometimes, to remember her own abuse.

Monday, June 18, 2012 0 comments

I made a new friend (enabler)





My new friend...He's so intrigued by how much of a slut I am. He feeds off my exploits and spurs me to new levels of perversion. He also gets my pussy very wet. Man. He has me setting up times to meet new guys, has a real interest in seeing me screw as many people as possible, and would love lots and lots of pictures of everything. Funny how he popped up right when I decided to get well. I met him through pof.com and sent him a post saying I was interested.

He's really sexy, Latino and there's just something behind his eyes that reminds me of something. I think it's that mixture of pervert and percolating violence that drew me to him. It's never a good sign that a new guy reminds you of two ex-boyfriends, one a rapist, the other a pimp. He even talks to me the same way my ex (the pimp) did.


I feel special when I talk to Cal*, like I can do anything, and my behavior is ok. I don't think we'll meet up and and I think that his main interest is to live vicariously through my actions. He loves the idea of my getting fucked by lots and lots of well endowed black men. His ex cuckolded him with black men and even bore two children by them within their relationship. He says his ex was just like me, and he misses having a slut like her. Funny, my ex (the pimp) was the same way. He wanted me to screw other men, do webcam shows, and fuck his friends...Oh, and his wife was a slut too, and he would tell me I was just like her, and needed to be fucked. I needed it. This is a sign that I'm on the right road. When you try to do better, something will always try to knock you back.

*Not his real name. I'm protecting the guilty lol.
 382H9F8EKXHM
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That something 'special'

I don't know if I mentioned this in one of my posts before, but I used to sell myself when I was younger. The last time I did that was with an ex of mine who was selling me to his friends. Even though so many signs were there, I didn't recognize that I was whoring for him because I never saw any money exchanging hands. Even though he tried to recruit my friends, even though he had friends placing requests to be with me. Not even when he suggested I start working on a cam online, did I think that he was pimping me out.

Finally I told him it had to stop as I felt he was pimping me. And he told me flat out that he was (he just never mentioned the for money part lol). That it was for me and my own sexual pleasure, and I should be happy that he had so many men lined up for me. Blech. It's been hard leaving him alone, and I went back to him for awhile. When I went back, it was with the understanding of both parties that I would work for him. But then, I just couldn't deal with it. I got out before it started up, and I'm trying to leave him alone.

When I was younger, I sold myself to local dope boys and men that wanted blow jobs, hand jobs or sex. Usually abusive and kinky sex. I was 11 the first time anyone bought sex from me, and 12 when an 18 almost 19 year old initiated a sexual relationship with me. He would give me things in exchange for me coming to his house and having sex with him for hours when I should have been at school. This occurred for about a year, leading to a pregnancy at 12 and an STD (trich). I remember being sad when my mom moved us to the 'burbs, as this meant we could no longer have our 'special' relationship.

I will go into it more in another post, but around 18-19, I sold sex to anyone who wanted it. I felt ashamed, dirty, and hated myself. I would take long baths after it was over, or cry or get high to deal with the feelings that came up. It wasn't glamorous.

I was talking to a friend last night. And she told me how she was always envious of friends she had as a teen/young woman who sold their ass. I won't go into it, but she was treated really shitty as a child by someone who was closest to her. She felt she would have been special if some guy had paid for pussy. Her friends were being tricked on by some guy, and it looked so cool to her. I got stuff (money, etc) and yea, sometimes I felt special.

That is until I had sucked so much dick I wanted to throw up from swallowing so much semen. Or I couldn't sit down because my pussy hurt. Or a regular trick decided to sodomize me at gunpoint (I got away). I felt crappy for selling pussy when I ran out of money and needed a ride somewhere. I rationalized that at least I got the ride and some cash. I didn't feel special though. I had these guys, some sexy and successful (at drug dealing at least), and some unattractive and paying me because they wouldn't get any otherwise touching me. I felt like shit.

The reason for this long winded-ass post is because I'm going back into it...possibly. I need the money, and it's be homeless and starving, or sell some ass and numb myself while I do it. I have an extraordinary ability to numb myself out when something bad happens to me. Sometimes I will flashback to things that have happened to me that I blanked out of my mind. When I was raped at 10, I managed to make myself go away while he was raping me. It was like flipping channels on a tv how I would come to and he'd be doing something new to me. But the details, the color details, I blocked out. This weekend one of them came back to me, and it blew me away...But anyway, I can make myself go somewhere else when shit affects me too much.

I'm going to do cam work first, and branch out into escorting. There are a lot of men who get off on big women. A lot. It's almost scary how many. I was with a younger man 2 weeks ago that screwed me into the ground because he was turned on by my age, color and shape. I put up a page 4 years ago looking for clients, and averaged 5-6 requests a week. And that was with minimal advertising as I didn't have the time or savvy to really put myself out there. I still get replies even though I don't market the site anymore. I never went through with it, as things changed for me then. I had more options. But now I need that money so I have to do what I have to do.
Saturday, June 16, 2012 0 comments

Don't leave angry. Just leave.




Ever have sex with someone you can't stand? They can't stand you and you can't stand them? You may even claim to find each other unattractive, but you have really good sex together? I had an experience like that when I was 18-19. The guy's name was Tony. He mixed with Black and Latino and cute as fuck. Until he opened his mouth. He was always going on about how he needed a tall yella chick with a big ass. I was brown with a white girl's ass, and I had the nerve to be fat.

I was about a size 14-16 (sometimes 12 depending on the outfit) and he preferred an 8-10. He considered that "thick". I was just fat to him. He especially targeted me at work for these comments and seemed to get a sort of glee out of tormenting me. Funny thing is, Tony was fat. So he may have wanted a girl like that (which my bff happened to be) but they didn't want him back lol.

So one day we're in the break room at the restaurant where we worked. He was talking shit about me in front of coworkers until the last one left the room. Then he started talking sexy to me about my body and what he wanted to do to me. Next thing I know, we were fucking on the break room table. We later had sex in the supply room and I would go to his house sometimes too.

At work, we would go doggy style or missionary and it was good. But at his house, he preferred one position from me: Reverse cowgirl. He loved to play with my ass (guess it wasn't so flat after all!) and he would use it to push me back and forth even faster, and push himself up into me deeper. He had a nice long, fat dick that hit all the right spots. I think he was one of the few people I actually came with. There's something about that position that hits the right spots and makes me cum. I knew it was over when his legs would start shaking, and he'd be whimpering like a dog and calling God.

The sad thing is that he had a nice little brother who was nothing like him. I wondered how they were even brothers, as Tony was that much of an asshole. I suspect being gay may have been the reason. A boy that age (14) that can admire Mulan for her spunk and is that well groomed and mannered, has something else going on. But everyone loved that kid. He was just so personable. And I think he wondered what the fuck I was doing sexing his brother. Even he knew he was an dog.

I still hated his ass, and he tried to break me and my friend up. He lied to me about her, and made it seem like she was making fun of us at school. She wasn't. I was gullible and eager to believe this because my friend was what I was not: Light-skinned, long curly haired, and cute. I wasn't a dog, but I was no bombshell. With my genetics (3 mixed grandparents) I should have been dining at her table, but instead life exiled me to the ugly kids' table.

So its funny I was thinking of this today. I would have brought this up with my friend, but that fight was one of the sore points of our relationship. Another one is when I fucked her first love (they were broken up), and unknown to her, became pregnant by his trifling ass. I only did it because I was sick of every guy that liked me jumping for her the minute she smiled at them. I'm glad we're still friends though.
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Ugly Sex

Ugly sex? We've all done it. Slept with someone we found less than attractive, but who turned our heads in some way. Maybe we've been the less attractive partner. I think the chemistry of being with someone who doesn't look as attractive as you want, but can fulfill you sexually, is pretty electrifying. Read more here.
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Has the NAACP lost its mind, or are we just now realizing it?

I was an abused child. There I said it. I still cringe when I type those words, because I want to think that I'm exaggerating what happened. That the naked beatings were OK. The words, touching and near touches were OK. That the mentality was OK. But it wasn't. If it was, I wouldn't have this blog, talking about the things I do. For too long, its been seen as "OK" to go overboard disciplining your child. Its not. Many people, myself included, feel that this is just the tip of the iceberg. That eventually more will come out about other types of abuse. I really hope I'm wrong, but it just seems to be leading that way.

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Are black women on the downlow?







I remember reading about married men who practiced the down-low lifestyle. The down-low is where a man is sleeping with or married to women, but also sleeps with men in secret. Most men who do this swear up and down that they are straight, but that the gay sex gives them something they don't get at home. Truckers also practice a form of this with many sleeping with male prostitutes during long trips on the road. But what about women?

I've slept with a lot of men, and none of them knew that I liked women. Or that their penises disgusted me lol. Or that I only slept with them because I couldn't find what I wanted elsewhere. This article goes into the down-low practices of black lesbians who marry men, have kids but still dip into the coochie every now and then. This is another good one. I completely thought this person was bullshitting until I did some research of my own. There are actually women on Craigslist who are married but want some pussy on the side.

Reading about this phenomenon helped me to know that I am not alone. I can't tell anyone in my family about me, even though I'm not the only one. The women in my family who are gay or bi get shitted on. The guys don't even bother outting themselves. They are treated as bad people, insulted, called names and generally no one has too much nice to say to them. So what do they do? I have cousins in lesbian relationships who manages to pop up pregnant every now and then. I'm wondering how two chicks are making babies, because that never happens in nature lol. But being a mom and having kids gives them cred and looks better.

I look back on my life and I lament the fact that I didn't stay out of the closet. I would be happier. A lot of messed up things that happened to me wouldn't have because I wouldn't have been around the men that I was. What will I tell my kids if they find out one day? What if they end up gay? I think I might feel bad, and people would blame me for that.

I've slept with so many men that I had no feelings for. I even married one. I couldn't even get excited sexually about what was happening. The biggest part for me was the lead up to the experience, ie arranging the sex, and then reliving the memories later. If I want an orgasm, I usually give it to myself. I just don't know what's wrong with me.

One of my best sexual experiences was with a guy who was in the closet as well. He was bisexual, possibly gay, and he knew he would be stigmatized by coming out. This hiding got him into a lot of problems as he could only truly express himself when he was drunk or high. One time that lead to a pretty vicious sexual assault and he was injured rectally. To make it worse, those who loved him made fun of him and told everyone. Everyone. But I liked sex with him. I think we were both attracted to the queerness in each other, and understood the others secret. Plus he was cool with not going down on me. I can't stand when a man puts his lips on my lips...and not just the top ones.
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Women don't do booty calls?

It seems that if you want to sleep with a woman, you almost always have to be in a relationship first. Few women are interested in an NSA relationship or one night stand. They want to be wooed and awed. Why? I know I'm not the only one like me, as I've seen blogs from women like myself, and I see posts on the w4m section of Craigslist. So what gives?
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My experiences on pof.com

I finally decided to venture off Craigslist for awhile. It's very hard to find what I want, and it seems the same people post there and reply. I decided to go with pof.com as I see the name pop up all the time and some people have had good experiences. My primary reason for using it is to find more sex partners, so I think this could work for me. Within a few hours, my mail box was overflowing and I still haven't responded to everyone.

My ad states that I'm a black woman looking for a black man, but for some reason stating that always drives tons of white men my way. I have no idea why lol. I get a lot of love knows no color responses, and "I love black women". For years I mainly dated white men, but I decided to stop and go back to dating only black guys. Plus I watch a lot of black porn, so I think this has some factor in it. When you live in a predominately white neighborhood, seeing and interacting with mainly whites, it can allow you to fetishize something you shouldn't. Things like race, color, shape etc. People are human beings, not parts to help you reach an orgasm.

I met some pretty cool guys. One tried to convince me that his spirituality would make him the perfect man to sleep with. Slowly it went from talks of auras and moon crystals, to pussy, blow jobs and doggy style. Amazing. Another one I like was a black guy who lives a few minutes from me. However, I did not appreciate his attempts to manipulate me into sex with him, even though I was saying no. The craziest response was from the man fresh out of prison. He put it out there that he wanted sex and asked if I could help him out. I felt bad for the guy in the wheelchair, and was halfway tempted to help him out.

All in all, I got a good mix of guys to choose from. Unfortunately, no women. For some reason, you can't list yourself as open to women, if you show yourself as open to men. These past few days I've become more accepting of myself as not a lesbian, but closer to bisexual. My father is bisexual, as are several cousins. I also have a gay great-grandfather and a multitude of gay and lesbian cousins. It runs in the family. Rather than judge myself, I'm trying to be more accepting. I do prefer women to men, but men are mostly what's available to me right now. I just have to overcome the programming that says bisexuals are diseased and whores. Funny how I'm doing my damnedest to prove the whores part.
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Period. Full stop.

So, that time of the month has seriously thrown a wrench in my plans for this weekend. I had several guys that wanted to meet up, and now I have to wait things out until sometime next week. It's very frustrating to be this horny and not be able to do something about it. Very frustrating. So, I'm spending time relaxing and enjoying life in general. I think this rest is good for me.
Sunday, June 10, 2012 0 comments

It's about the control, idiot

I was thinking today about some of my behavior. Why engage in these types of behaviors especially when I know that society looks down on me for them? It's about the control. It's a way to have some form of control over my life that I can't get any other way.

When I used to binge and purge as a teen, I was using my body as a way to have control over other areas of my life. I felt that if I could just control my weight, everything else would work out. Abusing sex is another way to gain control. For small moments of time, I have control. Over myself, over my partner's orgasm. I'm a focal point of desire. It's why I mostly go after men most would classify as alphas because being wanted by someone I perceive as sexier than myself, makes me feel more powerful.

It's also why I let myself fall pregnant time and time again. It's all about body control. I would like one more child, but right now isn't a good time for that. So I create pregnancies I know I won't sustain because I want to control my own fertility and when I have a baby. Everyone around me tells me I'm irresponsible, promiscuous and sinful for having three babies out of wedlock and three baby daddies.

Everyone, even the rapist/father of one of my children says that I deserved what he did to me. Being raped and having him take control of my reproductive choices for all those months did something to me. I said that I would never allow my body to ever be controlled that way again. Getting pregnant is my middle finger to those around me who say I shouldn't. Even if I know I won't have it, I have control now.

I might be pregnant now, and I'm already trying to see where I can get the money for an abortion. I don't want a baby with that man, nor he with me. If I'm pregnant, I will likely be pregnant again within six months. I just wish I could change. So I just wanted to say that for every pro-choicer who says that someone like me doesn't exist, know this. We exist. We're just usually smart enough to be quiet about it.


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Fuck the pain away

So, I kinda struggled with whether or not I should share this. Last night I had a guy over, and it was easily the worst sexual experience ever. Despite the fact that I finally came out to myself as lesbian, something I have struggled with for over 23 years, I let that fool into my house. Something told me not to believe the hype, but I did and now I wish I could whup my own ass about this.

So let's call him Mark. I met him off Craigslist. I wanted a sexual experience with a black man, especially one well endowed. That's what I get for watching hood rat porn on xhamster lol. So, he came over and automatically I could tell this was going to be horrible. He smelled good body wise, but his dick smelled like fish and his fingers like weed. But it's all about that "experience right"? So he asked me for head, and I went down on him. Sucking and swirling, I almost got it all the way down to the balls. It had a fat head, and got fatter the closer to the base I got, so it was hard. So this nucca is talking shit about how I'm not a freak because I refuse to put him in my throat. Nigga, I'm trying to breathe!

He does none of the stuff he bragged about. No pussy eating, no titty sucking. He barely fingered me and rubbed my nipples. Sad. But I'm not a freak. Whatever. And he didn't bring a condom. Right! So I'm asking him to go buy one, he refuses because he wants that nut right now, and I'm not fucking him without a rubber. We both agree no sex without a condom. So what does he suggest? Find a bag or some saran wrap. WTF?! God, grant me the strength not to snap on him, and the wisdom not to agree.

I'm horny so I play along. "Sex" for this fool consists of what I will call a 2-5 pattern. Two pumps and five minutes of sucking his dick. Actually more like skull fucking as he mostly jack hammered my mouth. He kept saying let me cum and then I'll fuck you, I promise. Right. It was good for those far spaced out pumps, but did nothing for me. And he kept demanding that I spit all over his dick. Remember that because it's relevant later. Finally, finally, he shoots off in my mouth. It's like a teaspoon of something nasty and foul tasting that almost made me throw up once he left.

Now comes the fun part. He asked me for a towel and I went off in search of one. I'm searching and searching, no towels. Finally I grabbed a clean absorbent t-shirt that no one wears. While I'm searching, my printer starts itself and I'm scared I might wake someone. So I wet that shirt and give it to him. I lied and said that my "TV" turned itself on and I just grabbed the shirt, because I was scared that his hood ass might figure out I had a computer and try to run up in my house when I wasn't home. He blows up. "What kind of shit is this" "I don't do this", blah, blah, blah. He dresses and leaves. No bye, no nothing. I think once he got his nut, he wanted out. I will never sleep with another black man in my life...He killed that. Yes Mark. You killed that, and not the way you were telling me on the phone. Only you could confirm my non-bisexuality. Only you.
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I'm that chick

What really motivated me to start this blog was the realization that the way I live my life signifies me as "that chick" that everyone stereotypes the average black woman as. Promiscuous. Three baby daddies. Over a dozen pregnancies (so abortion having). In other words a hoodrat. Its easy to overlook hoodrat tendencies in yourself if you have a middle class background and value system that you grew up in. If you're smart, educated. It's so easy to look down on others for the same behavior that you are doing already.

As I keep writing this, I will share some of my experiences so that maybe people can understand what got me to this point. A big reason I'm sharing so much is that I want to prevent other black women and girls from going down this same road. It's a dead end. It leads to nowhere good. My breaking point is realizing that I may be pregnant for the fifth time in under two years. It is realizing that I'm too scared to get tested for HIV. It's realizing that I don't even want to sleep with these fools anymore, yet I keep doing it. It's realizing that I may have squandered my future and shortened my life and it was for nothing. My life could have gone so differently.
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What is this blog about?

So my name is Marie, and I started this blog as a way to talk about the sexual experiences I have had online and off. Some of them will be about men I met offline, while others are about encounters I setup online that moved off. I was prompted to write this because I am currently struggling with my sexuality, as a recently out lesbian. One the one hand, I get nothing out of sex with men, and I sometimes become nauseous. On the other, its a way to handle sexual frustration while I look for a long-term girlfriend. This blog is primarily about my struggles as a black woman dealing with compulsive sexual behavior in a culture that tells her that is all she is about. This is my story.
 
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