I'm back

Hey everyone! Sorry I was away so long. I've had a lot going on. School starts soon, and I'm dealing with our living situation right now. I'm going to start packing soon for our move, so that has my whole attention. So much has been on my mind. This past month really knocked me over, and in the next few days, I'd like to share some of that. So stay tuned!

The new edition is up on Google Producer

There's a new edition of this blog available for the Android, iPad, and tablet. It has the newest articles and a few sexy pictures from the web. Check it out.

Contemplating writing a book

For years, I've thought about compiling my life experiences into print form. I think someone out there could benefit from telling my story. I haven't seen too many like it, from a black perspective. One that I did find was A Piece of Cake, and while there are many similarities, I couldn't identify 100%. This blog is very therapeutic for me, and provides a release. It keeps me from acting out sometimes and allows me a place to put things I'm going through. Sometimes I don't have anyone to talk to about my life, so this helps a lot.

So readers, would you be interested in a book? It wouldn't be for another year, but I could start the preliminaries now. Talking to my cousin about my abuse and being bold about the sexual abuse I encountered at home tore down a roadblock that has stopped me from writing a book on myself before. So if you're interested, drop me a comment and tell me what kinds of things you would like my book to include. Ask me anything!

My life on the downlow (No more closets)

I've talked about this before, how there are people in the black community living in the closet. They live straight lives, but their reality is that they are gay, lesbian or bisexual. My reality is that I'm not straight. My friends, family and neighbors see me living a life that is a lie. I've been living that lie for over 20 years, and I'm tired of it. But I've dug such a deep hole for myself, that I don't see any way to climb out of it.

 My First Girlfriend

When I was 10, my mother enrolled me in day camp at the Y. She felt as an only child, I might benefit from interaction with other children. She meant well. I'd had a harrowing year after my rape, and I could use some time away from her just being a kid. It was a bad experience at the Y. I had to battle older boys trying to gang rape me when the counselor's backs were turned (which was often), threats from street-wise kids and teasing from other children. But there was one bright moment out of the whole experience. I met my first crush and had my first sexual experience with the same sex. And I don't mean a "Show me yours, I'll show you mine" type of encounter, but we actually had sex. But that's not the point of mentioning her right now. The point is that before we did all that, she recognized in me a kindred spirit. She knew that I was different in the same way that she was different. No one had ever noticed that before about me.

We talked about our sexuality, and how we hid it from those we loved out of fear of punishment. She asked if I liked boys, and I could honestly say I didn't. If I hadn't been raped, I might never have been with a man. I crushed on boys and men because that was the expected outlet for my sexual curiosity, but since I was 6 or 7, I enjoyed very close friendships with other girls. I found a kinship and a closeness that being with a boy just couldn't provide. I also found them sexy. Male bodies made me queasy, but I loved looking at women and their soft bellies, hips and thighs. They interested me. Not males. She felt the same way as me, and we bonded over our similar experiences. My new friend appreciated and loved my body that day, and I did the same for her. Unluckily for both of us, another camper caught us and tried to blackmail us into performing for her. We never went off alone again, but I still remember her after all these years. For years I carried shame around because of the things I did with her, but I was never sorry for doing them.

 Coming Out of the Closet the First Time

Around 15, I told my mother the truth. That I had no interest in boys and I was a lesbian. She withdrew from me, and as she told me later, fought to keep her stomach contents under control. Using the resources available to her, she prevailed upon my counselor to fix me, and baring that to help me find myself. I attended a GLBT teen group for a few years, finally leaving when I noticed that few women actually attended, and those who did were usually partnered. Every Saturday, I would put on my most baby butch outfit, and spend the afternoon with my friends at group, and go out to lunch with them afterwards. I'd watch my male friends kiss boys, revel in their club escapades, and we'd make fun of the adults in charge of group.

Meanwhile, my straight friends were growing up, and my mom was telling me in small ways that I needed to decide what I was. Where I wanted to be in life, and with whom. She also wanted grandchildren. I caved, and went back into the closet, just so she could stop looking at me like that. The disapproval in her eyes, and the quiet manner in which she regarded me was a change. I just wanted her to love me again the way she used to.

Hiding Myself Away

I've gone from man to man trying to find something that would make me alright. I married, divorced, shacked up and had babies by several men. All the while, I kept holding up my end of the bargain which said that I would be straight if only she'd stop looking at me like that. My mom passed on, and my need to provide a straight role model for my children replaced the old excuses that kept me in the closet. I felt that boys need a feminine mother, one who loved men and who could model femininity and the proper female role for them. If I was gay, what would they become by seeing that? And I didn't wish my life on anyone, especially not my kids. I would love them no matter what, but our family is very hard on those who step outside the boundaries of normal sexual behavior.

Years have passed, and I no longer know what I am anymore. Life and experiences have reshaped and molded anew, my body and mind. I'm not that strident ten year old girl who declared her love for women, nor that scared 15 year old who shook while she told her mother the secret she'd held inside for years. Who felt it was worth the telling, even if it hurt to tell. That she couldn't pretend to be something she wasn't anymore, and it was time to come out of that closet. Now, I'm in my early 30s, firmly in the closet, and I don't know what I am anymore. I'm so used to being used and misused by men that I've come to expect it. How do I find my way again and lead the life I'm meant to have. My oldest child's father told me I should be honest with myself. He's bisexual and he feels that I should do what makes me happy. Both him and one of my friends feel that the best role model I could provide to my kids is one that is open and who lives their truth, not lies. Am I that person?

My father is gay

 

Last night, I spent several hours talking with my cousin. Real talk. On every topic under the sun. Sex, men, our kids, family. The last one was the hardest one to talk about. There was laughter, gasps and at many times, tears almost splashed down cheeks because of something that was said. I've talked about my mom on here a little bit, but sometimes I feel crazy when I think about my childhood. Sometimes I wonder if I'm mistaken, if things weren't that bad. My cousin saw how things were for me. Not everything, but some of it. That validation brought some measure of closure and healing.

Out of respect for her, I won't tell my cousin's story here. I don't have that right. My cousin had a hard time growing up, and I wasn't the only one to experience these things. Our parents had an extremely hard childhood, and they had few people to balance the abuse of their mother. It took many years until I could feel any kind of compassion for my grandmother. Even as a kid, I had such hatred of her for hurting my mother and twisting her into the kind of parent that I had.

My cousin told me a lot of things which are weighing heavily on me today. One of them concerns my father. My mother was honest to me as a child about my father, once I was old enough to ask the right questions. She never turned me against him or told me lies about him. His behavior turned my love away from him, and he had a renewable supply of lies and bullshit. I knew about the drug use, cheating, prostitution. I thought I knew it all, but I didn't. When I was old enough to know, my mother told me about my father's bisexuality. Well, last night my cousin told me it was less bisexuality and more gay. My parent's relationship ended because he was gay. Everything I always believed about myself, my parents and especially my father, was a lie.

Knowing this about him, I can look back and it's like all these pieces of a bigger puzzle have snapped together and I understand what I'm seeing now. He was disowned by his brother, ostracized by his family. He moved cross country for a new life and every time we spoke, he had a new girlfriend. It explains the frenetic sexual activity and extreme promiscuity. Maybe it even explains the drug abuse. I'm not appalled that he was gay. Who am I to judge? It's the deception that bothers me most of all. My mother's family has a history of gay men marrying women to hide their sexuality then going on to abuse the woman and or the children. I'm sick of it. I watched my mother waste two decades of her life pining for someone who could never love her back. My father has psychological and personality problems that make him a very hard person to love, and yet she did.

I wonder if my conception was a cover for him. If he felt that having another child would prove he was a man to others. Am I bisexual because of some genetic inheritance on his or my mother's behalf? And if I speak with him again, how can I talk to him and not mention any of this? I just feel like it's a huge lie that no one felt I had the right to know, which is fucked up considering how many consequences I had to deal with because of these lies.

The best I ever had

 Normally, I don't share my sexual experiences just to share them. I place them within a context of some kind to tell a bigger picture that I have in mind. This post is an exception to that rule. I was inspired to write this based on an email from a reader. Although I'm in my early 30's, the best sexual experience I ever had was about 6 weeks ago. I've had good sex, even great sex. Mostly mediocre so-so sex, with a dash of never again, horrible bad sex. But each of those times, something was missing.

Dana was a young man that I met on Craigslist. He was in his early twenties, white, over 6 feet and extremely fit. So fit in fact, that we met after he worked out at a nearby gym. Dana had a previous sexual experience with an older plus sized woman and he wanted it again. It was a fetish of his. There was something about the shape and feel of a bbw that set him off. I remember him telling me that the age difference was another turn on. He wanted me to teach him some things. When it was over, I was the one who had learned something new. Standing there in gym shorts and a white t-shirt, Dana looked like Adonis personified. I still figured the sex would be so-so because of his age. Imagine my total surprise an hour later.

My body was worshiped, lovingly touched, appreciated and gazed at. He left no fold untouched. One of the best moments was during missionary when he grabbed my breasts and squeezed them hard while he pushed in and out of me in a blur. Dana had endurance. He could go and go.

I get down on myself a lot, so I was amazed that he came to me already hard and erect. I wondered why a man as attractive as him would want to be with me. Self esteem issues cause me to seek out partners younger, fitter and more attractive than me. I value myself based on my ability to have sex with men who are like that. Once with them, I doubt their ability to find me attractive. I pretty much find it hard to relax during sex as I spend so much time watching my body to make sure it doesn't jiggle, hang or move the wrong way.

I think this is part of the reason I didn't enjoy my last time with Young Daddy. While in the reverse cowgirl position, I became aware of the fact that my stomach was slapping against my thighs and that was making noise. Instantly, I was turned off and became less centered on the amazing sensations in my pussy and more focused on minimizing that sound. Young Daddy didn't care as he was making sounds of his own, though his were more moans and groans. He noticed the change in me and asked at various times if I wanted to keep going. I think he thrives on the fact that he can make me cum. Tuning out and becoming focused on getting it over would turn any man off.

My absolute favorite part of the encounter, aside from the love he showered on my breasts, was being in doggy style position with Dana. He rubbed, smoothed, grabbed and slapped my ass, thighs and back. It was like he was thirsty and hungry for me and couldn't get enough. The sounds of his hard body and my softer one slapping together sent me over the edge. Feeling my ass jiggle with each thrust kept me focused and aware of the sensations moving through me and heightened my arousal. Whatever position we moved to, I loved seeing his eyes roll back in his head and his soft moaning sounds.

Dana left me extremely well fucked and all I could do was drape myself on a couch and try to still my breath and stop sweating so much. I was completely covered in sweat and my pussy was dripping wet and sore. After a quick shower, I slept like a baby until morning time. I think this was the first step in my sexual awakening. For years, sex was something men did to, on or around me. Dana was the first man to have sex with me. We didn't make love, though there were tender moments. We fucked. But, we fucked together and we mutually enjoyed it.  I didn't focus on making him cum to the exclusion of my own pleasure. Many of my experiences have found me trying to get the guy off so that I can please him or get the encounter over quickly.

I can see my body now and I'm less disgusted by it. I still ask for the lights to be dimmed, but I no longer keep a t-shirt or bra on and haven't for years. However when I was with Dana, I did turn around to undress despite the fact that he was going to see it anyway. I'm trying to stop doing that. I chuck my clothes with abandon and after sex I no longer jump up to get dressed. The internet has been wonderful as a learning aide and I've been able to use it to develop self-acceptance. The experience with Dana has been a big part of accepting my fat body.

Google Producer is now live!

You can now view the latest edition of this site at Google Producer. This tool from Google allows users to create "magazine" editions that can be viewed on mobile devices such as iPad, Android and tablets. I'm pretty stoked about it. I just put together something basic with the latest posts and some pics, but you can take a look at:

https://www.google.com/producer/editions/CAowlqrHAQ/monday_71012

Adult breastfeeding resources

I came up with this list for people who are interested in and aren't sure where to get started. I came across a lot of them while I was searching for an ANR (adult nursing relationship) close to me. Towards the end, I included a few of my favorite videos. Enjoy!

The Land of Milk and Honey, is an all around useful resource. Not only is there articles and information on getting started, there are personal experiences, a message board and a very useful personals section. Ads are free and limited to one per person. There's also a gallery of very tasteful, though still NSFW pictures that you can view.

If you have an account with Yahoo, Adult Breastfeeding Personals can be worth a look. With over 3,000 members, you may find success finding a nursing partner. For support and general discussions of adult breastfeeding, Adult Breastfeeding Relationship Groups is a good group to try. There are discussions of breastfeeding groups and ANR issues in general. You're not allowed to promote groups or ask for partners, but you can make direct contact after you've established yourself on the board.

This next one seems strange, but if you are looking for factual and detailed information, especially if you are trying to re-lactate or have never breastfed before, this is your go to resource. La Leche League (The Milk League) was founded by a group of mothers interested in learning how to nurse their babies in an era where that was discouraged. It has since grown and there is information on extended and tandem nursing. And some adoptive moms are able to provide milks to their babies because of the guidance of the kind ladies here. It has published several books which can be purchased pretty cheaply online, especially used.

Those should get you off to a good start. I will update this guide with more as I come across sites. Here's a few of my favorite videos. Assume they are NSFW, as I don't want an email from anyone complaining to me about getting in trouble at work!:


This is a very sexy video of an older Asian woman nursing at the breasts of a younger one. There is some sex. This next one is a great compilation of nursing and pumping videos from an erotic perspective. The user has about 3 more videos like this one. Lastly, I enjoyed watching this one. The scene where she stands up and starts dripping everywhere was an enormous turn on for me. It's been very refreshing to get past my squeamish and to enjoy seeing others have this experience.

In the land of milk and honey

After posting about my Daddy issues, I realized that I forgot two of them. I just wanted to write about them quickly, as I would feel remiss if I didn't mention them. One is a white younger man, and the other is my age and black. Both of them make me feel good to be around, but I'm not sure where it will go.

Bear is fresh out of a bad relationship. He craves intimacy without strings attached. He's my hugging partner. He just wants to be held and to cuddle, with some sex thrown in from time to time. I need that. I put on a tough girl persona every morning when I step into my big girl panties. Sometimes I just want to drop that and fold into someone's arms and not be judged because I have tears falling from my eyes, or because I need to be weak for once and not hold the world on my shoulders. I think he could provide that, and I could provide that for him. When Mr. Shy held me before he left, I felt a real longing for another person. I was sure I had closed that part of myself down, but here it came bubbling back up. I felt such a longing for intimacy that I almost started crying in his arms. Hopefully time with Bear will help that.

Dom is very dominating. He can't wait to spend time with his sweet Baby Girl so that he can do all the things that a good Daddy wants to do. Like spank her, tie her down and fuck her until she comes all over his big dick. You know the usual. We just have to work out some time in our schedules as we both stay pretty busy. I think being with him will give me a good sexual release. I crave rough and dominating sex, but sometimes the men I meet are turned off by that. They look at me as damaged goods or disturbed. Dom understands and wants to dominate me as much as I need it.

I'm having Daddy issues Part 2

Things have changed a little bit since I last posted this. Relationships have changed and things have heated up with some of my Daddies. With others, things have dropped off a lot.

I ended up telling Big Daddy that I wanted more from him which left him completely dumbfounded. He couldn't understand why I would want to change anything. I need more intimacy from him and I want to grow our relationship. He wants to keep things the same. After spending some time going back and forth, I backed down and told him that I was ok just being friends. I have to admit that part of the reason for having this talk with his was because 1., I do want more, and 2., I'm not getting anything out of sex with him anymore. I just end up sweaty, sore and with a numb vagina. And his combined weight and mine make certain positions difficult. I'm not used to that.

Maybe I'm a casual sex addict. The first time of an encounter is often the hottest. You don't know what to expect. Each partner tries to bring their best, and I can lose myself in the sex easier. There's just something about grinding on the fat dick of a stranger that makes it easier for me to cum. Maybe because the man hasn't placed any demands on me, as we're not partners. Gradually, things level off and we develop a familiarity with each others bodies. In theory a good thing, but I really enjoy the sparks from a new sexual encounter. This may explain my last time with Young Daddy. We had good sex, but halfway through I'm squeezing him with all I had as I'm ready for him to be done. I wasn't feeling it like before. The first time we had sex, I learned some new erogenous zones in my vagina.

I love the way that he makes me call him Daddy during sex. When he rubs my sweaty body and his hands glide over the skin of my ass, that sends chills through my whole body. Young Daddy isn't content to just fuck. He wants to talk to me during it and touches me all over. He fucks me rough, fast and dirty, and I always come away dripping sweat. And he is very vocal when something feels good. It's easy to get feedback from him. Plus a hard dick that never goes down is very good. I just need to spice things up next time. I almost popped when he demanded for me to come for him. There's just something about a domineering man that gets me off. I'm just surprised to find one so young.

There hasn't been too much communication between Nasty Daddy and I. After failing to produce pictures for him, he hasn't shown much of an interest in me. In fact I've discovered a manipulative streak in him. He gives me very little in the way of emotional support while consistently browbeating me about my disobedience. He holds out the carrot that we'll be together soon, but I doubt it. Back to the corner Nasty Daddy! Too bad he's being like that. My fetish partner agreed to take pictures for him.

Papi loveeees Mami's tetas! He spent hours loving and sucking them. Kneading them between his hands and reshaping them over and over again. I wonder if he would suck the milk from them if I were lactating? Things are changing between us, and I think it's a good thing. He's really into me, and I have to admit that a man who loves what I consider to be one of my least favorite features, is perfect.

Mr. Shy ignored me after out first time together. After I'd given up hope on seeing him again, he texted me to say that this weekend was really hectic for him. I can't wait to see where things will go with him. I want to spend time drawing him out of his shell. I could really turn him on to some freaky stuff (spanking, domination, rimming, etc), and I think it would be a gratifying experience for all involved.







"Free image courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net"
(I chose this image because of PTCruiser's comments on another post. I haven't had enough images of black men on this blog which is strange, as half of my lovers are black. Enjoy!)

Just wanted to reblog this

While browsing the new blog posts on one of the sites I visit, I happened to see an excellent post on Kelly Shibari, who is the first ever BBW to have her body used to create a FleshlightFleshlight. These are flesh-like sex toys designed to be penetrated by men. Shaped like a flashlight, they are molded from the bodies of actual women. Kelly's an extremely pretty Asian BBW, and I think it's very cool that she's being immortalized this way. Plus, how often do you see the bodies of bigger women appreciated like this? Especially a minority woman? Check out more at Blasian Bytch.

A letter to my readers

Every so often, I receive an email from a reader of this blog, thanking me for being so open about my experiences. Before I started this blog, there wasn't really too many black voices out there talking about the things I write. Sure there were black sexuality blogs, but I hadn't seen once that so boldly stepped out there and laid it out raw the way I do. I know I'm not the only one. I've had the privilege to meet other black women such as myself. I just wonder why I'm the only voice out there speaking these things.

Maybe other black women are afraid of confirming stereotypes that America holds about black women. Today I was talking with my friend and she asked me do I ever get tired. Tired of living up to the stereotypes of a prostitute. Before you go "Damn", her and I were talking about the perceptions that others have held for my life since I was a baby. People assumed and voiced the opinion that I would be a whore just like my mother. A prostitute. And in so many ways, I have lived up to that.

I've sold myself for money. Given sex away as freely as one passes out tissues, and allowed so many men to walk over me. I've had children with different fathers, and abortions by even more men. Isn't that what a prostitute does? Haven't I been a good whore? My friend said maybe I should start defying those stereotypes others have laid on my life. That I need to rise above those expectations.

My friend grows flustered with me. She was there for me when I came out, and is dumbfounded that I continue to have sex with men. The fear of losing her is foremost in my mind. What if she grows fatigued with my shenanigans? Any friend, even a really good one, will grow frustrated with hearing the same ratchet behavior all the time. I know sometimes she dissociates when I talk about my abuse. I think it's too much for her. Lately, I've tried to keep from discussing anything too serious out of fear that eventually she won't talk to me. I don't want her to see me as her dramatic self-centered friend. But I think that's what I've become. I'm going through so much right now, and I have no one to talk to. Well, I have one other friend. A new one who is addicted like me. So much of our life stories are similar. But I worry about stressing her out, and losing her too.

Even though I created this blog to have a secret place to write down my experiences and feelings, it's become so much more. It's become an outreach to other people, a confirmation that someone else shares this dark secret. A secret so terrible that they are afraid to disclose it, because it could mean the lose of those they love. People are able to see someone who's just like them, living in the margins, who's less than perfect and isn't afraid to put it out. I just hope that the people who read this will decide to open up about their lives. You never know who you influence or help with what you write. It might give someone the strength to keep going.

A pocket full of pennies

Sometimes I've regretted the way that I treated a man. I have to admit that I was often picky about the wrong things, or too quick to discard someone who did not meet some demand that I had. One of those men is Guy. I have no idea where or when I met him, as I was heavily into my sexual addiction, as well as a more traditional addiction.

Guy seemed sweet and nice, too nice at times. Tall, dark and lanky, he was fresh out of a bad relationship with a long-term girlfriend. As things progressed with him, I was asked out on a date to a movie. Thank God my mother taught me the $20 rule. It goes something like this: Always have $20 that you can use to pay your own way, or to leave if you're ready to go. That way you aren't stranded in a bad situation. Guy had brought money to pay for the movie. Just enough in pennies, nickles and dimes to pay for his fare. I let it go. He wasn't my boyfriend, and I could pay my own way. Still I was kind of surprised by that.

Fast forward to later at his house. Guy took me to his house, and after sitting around awhile, decided to make out with me. I acquiesced, and clothes came off. I wish they hadn't. I'm not perfect, far from it But I do enjoy a well endowed man. Guy was extremely under-endowed with a length of maybe, and this is stretching, maybe 2 inches. I had no idea where he thought that would go. I demurred and opted for some extended cuddling.

Sometimes I think back on Guy. A lot of women often want the man who has a promising future, prospects and is a nice guy. However no one wants to put in the work that a having a man like that entails. Take the Obamas for example. When Michelle met Barack, he wasn't a successful anything. He was still trying to get his life together. I have friends that married wonderful guys that were broke when they met them. Sometimes the love of a woman is enough to motivate a man to become more than he is. Not always, but sometimes.

I was so desperate for love back then. Maybe I still believed it was possible for someone to love me, and for me to love them back. My hurt was broken in so many ways by men unworthy of my time and attention. There was no real reason to dismiss Guy, and yet I did. Well he did have a weird smell. But still. Most of the men I have dated have been abusive or violent. Addicted or otherwise unavailable to me. Yet time and again I gave them my attention and I tried to love them, in my own disturbed way.  I'm sorry Guy. Maybe I should have given you a chance and been sweeter to you.

A short intro to adult breastfeeding

As I stated before in another post, I've experimented with adult breastfeeding. I struggled a bit with using breast milk in my sexual relationships. I chose to be in denial even when it was obvious that Alain was suckling more than his own spit at my breasts. The 'mmms' should have clued me in. An ex of mine explicitly asked that I continue expressing milk when he was away from me, as he wanted to enjoy plentiful milk during our times together. I think part of my discomfort stemmed from the belief that my breasts and milk should only be used to nourish my child. I struggle with expressing my sexuality while pregnant and nursing. These experiences stretched my conception of myself as a sexual being and a mother, and were pretty hot as well.

Some couples use breastfeeding as a way to share intimacy with each other. It can make the one nursing feel nurtured and can bring out maternal feelings in the one doing the nursing. Oxytocin is released during several life experiences. Sex, childbirth, orgasm and nursing. This hormone makes the woman feel relaxed and calm and helps bond mother to infant during birth and while breastfeeding.

One of the best ways to make milk is to be pregnant or to give birth. While it is not a requirement, having the body make the physical and hormonal changes need for nursing over 9 months makes it easier for the breasts to make milk. Adoptive mothers who have never been pregnant or older women, have been able to make milk with enough stimulation of their areola. See, breast milk isn't expressed by suckling at the nipples. It takes repeated sessions of nursing at the areola, or dark area surrounding the nipple, for the brain to get the signal to make milk. Nipples don't push out milk. The milk 'lets down' during suckling which can feel like tingling or even painful at first. The aveoli which store the milk (think tiny bunches of grapes) squeeze out the milk once they receive the signal that it is needed. Aggressive nipple sucking will lead to only one thing: Sore nipples.

Some nursing couples find the greatest success with a schedule. Scheduling in regular nursing sessions makes it easier on the woman as she is less likely to become engorged. The other partner will probably appreciate frequent nursing as the more nursing there is, the more milk is produced. In a few weeks, I will produce a second part to this which expands on this more.

The process

My "process"

Last week, I had access to about 4-5 men daily. Did I have sex with that many? No! But I had the ability to, and if I were younger I might have gone for it. I did in the past. You may wonder, "How does this fat bitch get fucked so much?". Well that's the purpose of this post. I'm going to write a little about how I find men, and what I tend to look for. Even a bit about how I choose a partner. Primarily, I'm looking for a sexual relationship. My life is too busy, and I'm too wounded to do more than have sex with someone at this point in my life. Last night I wanted BBC. For those of you not in the know, that refers to Big Black Cock. So, when I want what I want, and I want it in fast, I turn to Craigslist.

The key is a catchy headline and a concise and informative paragraph. It just needs to be what you are looking for, your stats and any other requirements or turn offs. For mine, I stated that I wanted some BBC and I told a little about myself. Of course, 95% of my responses were belligerent white men and a few Hispanics. But I did find the BBC I wanted and it was guuuud! But I digress lol. I tend to look several places when the 'itch' is upon me.

Depending upon the desire, I may use an ad placed on Craigslist, or I may try to find a man on pof.com. I have also branched out to Adult Friend Finder and a few other sites. Pof is great for cultivating a longer term friends with benefits relationship. For a quickie, Craigslist is the way to go.

Once the responses come in, I first look for ones with pictures. I respond most to clear pictures that do not features penises. Next, I want to know what the man is looking for, and if he can read. If you are a white dude, my BBC ad should have been passed over lol. Unfortunately, as I stated above, 95% of my responses before it was flagged, were white men. For some reason, a black woman stating a preference for black man is responded to with "Why does it have to be about color" and " We're all the same race." No, I do not discriminate, but sometimes I have this need for a man of my own race, and that will not be sated by a non-black man. Once I have looked at the emails with pictures, I read through those without. I have gotten some great responses from a guy who didn't send a picture initially because he was wary of my being either a 'pro' or a bot.

What makes me choose a man is several things. He should make me feel comfortable and at ease. A man who boasts too much about his sexual prowess and skills usually sucks in bed. Any man who is desperate to meet, to the point of hounding me days after I've stopped emailing him, gets blocked. I also weed out Angry Men, and Slut Punishers. If a man spends emails testing me and telling me he is afraid or bitter because of past women in his life, I bounce. Some men are uncomfortable with expressions of feminine sexuality. They may become reticent or belligerent if confronted with the fact that real women fuck. Not just make sweet Victorian (Just lay back and think of England) love, but sweating, screaming, ugly faces fucking. Some feel the need to punish these sluts and it can escalate to violence, stalking or abuse. So yea, I avoid them.

I tend to spend a lot of time emailing back and forth and getting to know the guy. Once things progress this turns into text messaging and phone calls. I may text a man over 70 times and have several conversations before I feel comfortable enough to meet him. The next step, well you read about that all the time on this blog. If you have any questions, respond to this post and I will followup with another post.

I'm having Daddy issues

By mutual unspoken agreement, my father and I aren't involved with each other. He has my main number blocked and I don't reach out to him. It's a waste of time. So when I write that I'm having Daddy issues, I'm primarily talking about the other men in my life. Right now, I am seeing or talking to a handful of men, each with their own issues and requirements.

One of my "Daddies" had a problem getting off. No matter the position, type and strength of stimulation or ability I brought to the table, he seems to go on and on. Like the Lil Train That Could. Only thing was, that left me puffing and chugging along, and sore to boot. Anal fixed that. I have a great rapport with Big Daddy, and he puts me at ease. It started out as teasing motions with his cock against my ass and eventually he just 'popped' in. I had to stop him and find lube, as I reminded him that pussies are self-lubricating. Not assholes.

 Young Daddy wants to swing. He's not content to just stay home and have great sex. He wants us to meet up with a couple he knows, and I don't blame him. But time constraints make it hard for me to comply. I feel so old because I can no longer just jump up at a moment's notice, grab my lube and toys, and head to the orgy/4some. I envy his youth and enthusiasm, and I hope I don't end up losing him anytime soon.

Nasty Daddy is mad. Mad as shit. He likes to send me on sexual adventures which I have complied with. He is especially fond of me taking multiple hard and thick, black cocks. He wants me well used and completely stretched. Ruined pussy is his favorite thing in the world. Unfortunately for him, my pussy is tighter than the security at Fort Knox, but I can still make him happy by taking big cock after big cock. That's not the problem. The issue is that Nasty Daddy wants pictures. Lots and lots of pictures of his Baby Girl being stretched wide and filled. Pictures of her giving oral pleasure. And well, Little Princess has not been complying. For various reasons, I keep forgetting to take pictures, or the guys get skittish on camera. The last time we talked, he blew up with me and told me to get with the program. Yea, I think Nasty Daddy needs a time out.

Papi is sweet. A true Spanish gentleman and he's very well rounded. He's also freaky as fuck. We haven't had sex yet, but talking to him leaves my panties (if I wore any) drenched. We still haven't made love, but I can't wait. He talks to me about the mundane and the sacred and I can envision a life with him sometimes. Except he says he just wants a friend with benefits situation. I wonder why he bothers to romance me when I would drop my panties for him at the snap of a finger. Oh, and did I mention he plays the Spanish guitar and sings? I've noticed that Latino men will whisper lovely things into your ear and completely romance you. So I'm learning to respond to them based on their actions and not just their words. I will do an update on Papi as things progress.

My last Daddy is Mr. Shy. Like his name suggests, he is terribly shy. I had to seduce the poor guy almost. He came to me fully erect and at attention, and the poor guy was too afraid to tell me to get on my knees for him. He's tall, dark with smooth chocolate skin and has great skills in bed. A little quick on the draw the first go round, he still had me humming. Something he did bothered me though. He seemed really down on himself and was unable to speak up for his desires. I think with training, I could turn Mr. Shy out, and really bring out his inner freak. He also gives the best hugs and has a wonderful smell. Mmm.