Year of the Slut: Voodoo.

I don't remember the number of this one & I can't be bothered to scramble for the list & share it with you because I don't believe it's of any real importance. It doesn't stop it from being a reality. Doesn't stop me from subsisting only on sweet recollection of the entire affair.

Of those very specific moments.

So I'll just call it 'Voodoo'.

This boy, in essence, was sort of like Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde. When I remember his clothed temperament in comparison to his naked one I'm always a little blown away & utterly stimulated. To see such a switch, so real & capable, a man's unmitigated overhaul of his general personality driven by complete passion.

He was electrifying. It's not something I think I'll ever be able to truly forget, because it was just so full of what I demanded from a man, from a soul I'm willing to intertwine with my own. Whether it was passion for my sexual skill or passion for myself, his fire burned me.

He left countless marks.

A Nigerian boy. An Ibo boy. Visually not at all my type, but all the young girls around him were jocking so he was confident enough in himself for me to let this go. There was something about his nature that attracted me at first. When we were in social circles, he was the most quiet, the most concerned & the most distant from everyone else.

Being aware of the unknown potential in such men I was immediately drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. Bee to honey. A fly struggling against a spider's web. I simply couldn't help myself. I had to know.

So I went about it as girls normally do, made myself ever present, seduced through moments filled with smoke. Basically came out of nowhere with my interest in him & then when I fucked him? & woke up the next morning with a slew of hickies lining my shoulder blades? I dived into every part of him.

I was intoxicated with the slight sting my bruises provided the day after our encounters. It was my alcohol. My THC.

I see flashes of him pushing me into dark corners, eyes ablaze with an inferno so sincere that it took my very breath away, I was suffocating in a burning house. With pleasure. Willingly. He enflamed me with the essence of him.

Left memories by sucking on my skin as he buried himself into my stomach. He gripped as he ground against my soul. Plowed into my subconscious. He made me remember. He made me want to remember.

Stripping in the dark. Soft streetlights filtering through the shades illuminating my task. My eyes never left his as I rolled my dress down to reveal nothing underneath but my glistening black beads. I smiled coyly & swayed to his bed, laying down on my stomach, face turned away from him. Poised like Solomon's great black love waiting for her ancient King.

He stood over my body for a moment. Then I felt a finger tip slowly creep up from my Achilles heel, to the back of my knees, to the thickness of my thighs, to the curve of my ass, his nails dug deeper here, to the small of my back, to the side of my neck & then back again.

His imagination is what enthralled me the most. Within that quiet nature, that stoic face & serious manner was a never ending fervency that took over once my clothes came off.

He'd be almost frozen in time, until I reached out to touch him, until I instigated some sort of physical communication then he would just rain down on me. So hard, torrentially, it felt like a hurricane of sickeningly painful indulgence. & what's more, I saw the transformation clear in his eyes.

I watched him turn.

For me.

The way it ended still saddens me in a way. As Mr. Blac Garner says “Can anything end well when you never wanted it to end?”. It was abrupt, illogical & a little painful. Perhaps it was a casualty of my growth, but my body still remember his.

The bruises fade but the feeling remains.

I will never forget that energy he drowned me in continuously.
I will never forget the sting of each mark left on my flesh.
Flesh I thought immune to such.

See, the nigga, SURPRISED me.

His type of loving cut me deep.
Made me appreciate passion once more.
Made me appreciate burning in that pit of fire.

Made me appreciate my wounds.

It's no fun if it don't hurt.

Year of the Slut continues.

Year of the Slut: 26 & 27

I feel like I must explain myself before I delve into this particular memory. The thing about lesbianism & I is pretty much a case of extreme self adulation. I love my body so much so that when I see it replicated in another beings form I automatically love whatever that form is. So of course I would be attracted to women. It's a very shallow ordeal for me though. I'm not particularly interested in the mental task of involving myself in a long term lesbian relationship.

I love dick too much & there would be too many technicalities in the emotional side of things. It just doesn't seem like something I would enjoy. I have enough trouble with heterosexual relationships in the first place. A homosexual one is simply implausible.

So as I've said, my attraction is purely sexual. I love the female form because I see the power in my own. I'm actually envious of all who get to perceive me in the moment so of course the opportunity to do what they do to me to another, to see a body like my own in that light, would excite the very fuck out of me.

I've had a few lesbian trysts here & there over the years. The most major before this particular incident was in blessed Lagos. In a bathroom.

She was gorgeous from what I remember. I had downed a couple of bottles of Nuvo but was still holding my own on the dance floor. Or should I say on the bars of the cage of that particular V.I.P. Section? The tables too & that bar.

She saw me & pulled my face to hers immediately.

“You're so beautiful. I want to kiss you.”

Without a thought I kissed her. Not because her visuals enthralled me in any way, but because it was a generally attractive female with a banging ass body who just opened the door to another realm of interesting social experiments.

Just give me the green light.

After she got over her shock I was pulled directly to the nearest bathroom & interviewed.

“Do you like me?”

Her eyes were glossy & there was a sort of insecurity shining through that question I'm sure she was attempting to poise seductively. But you know me, Sentence Soul Reader, can't ever get an unbalanced female past me.

I lied with ease. I didn't even think about it really. I suppose that's how men think when in the moment of “I think I'm going to get what I want, just keep saying yes.”.

All of a sudden my life was turning in a real time version of all those lesbian porns I had spent a great deal of my high school virgin career studying. I wanted what I wanted & truth was not going to get in my way.

“Do you want me?”

She came closer. I lied once more, eager as the most beautiful of beavers. Suddenly she was on her knees, lifting up my dress, pulling my panties to the left & enjoying a midnight snack.

I leaned my head back with a smile & looked at the mirrored ceiling, smiling at her energized head of Brazilian weave.

But this story isn't about her.

This story is about a new her. A her I actually, in reality, aren't at all attracted to. A her whose personality made the idea of fucking her so damn enjoyable simply because of the opportunity to finally put her hypocritical ass in it's fucking place.

All I wanted to do was beat her ego into a filthy pulp.

& when the opportunity was provided & the once prim & proper “No, but you're actually clinically insane Frankey” never broken a damn rule in her life bank manager was suddenly begging me for mercy as I made her squirm like a desperate little whore.

Her breasts were phenomenal though. Large but perky. I find that the problem with large breasts & my general revulsion to them is because I've seen too many saggy areola monster ass breasts in my day. Large but perky is simply an ideal experience & they were so soft!

Breasts are undeniably wonderful.

But I still wished she had an ass...

It's funny how it started though, for future reference? Know if your personality will clash with any person partaking in a possible orgy. If yes? Make sure you don't have a conversation with them beforehand, because you will carry your emotions into the sex.

& sometimes that isn't healthy for all parties.

Needless to say. I hurt a bitch & she loved it.

Her case is an interesting one though. She's so clearly adverse to my entire way of life but was utter putty in my hands once our clothes were off.

Normal people are whores.

There was no intro to the threesome, he kissed me, he kissed her, I kissed her.

Then I forgot about him & he forgot about me.

& it was all about her.

I don't remember much, because his part in it disinterests me over all. What is there I haven't seen?

I remember what I enjoy. Everything else gets laid to waste.

So what did I enjoy you ask?

Her. There wasn't much to taste & because of my familiarity with her equipment I already knew what to do, where to lick, where to stick, what to squeeze, what to bite. It was a piece of cake.
& it was new. Brand new. The power I had over her gave me an adrenaline rush for a few hours, but it fades like it usually does with the ones not worth emotional investment. The energy is cheap.

I really wished she had an ass. Maybe the memory of conquering her would do more stimulation wise.

I'm looking for ass. I'm not particularly interested in breasts you know? Because I don't have breasts. & my interest in women? Reflects my interest in myself.

I'm revoltingly un-attracted to all of my best friends because they're nothing like me. Friend zone all the fucking way.

I'm bored with the other third of that threesome though. I've begun to choose responsibility I could post pone over free fairly enjoyable dick.

That's always a bad sign.

I think I'm just ready for someone who loves me.

I'm remembering too much Mecca.

#10's got me all dizzy.
3000+ miles apart.
& BBM never fails to remind me of exactly what I'm missing.

So in the mean time let me indulge in a new addiction to take my attention off of that well of painful nostalgia.

This shit is girls only b.

Year of the Slut: #21

When I think of this number ..

All that comes to mind is shots of glistening white teeth wrapped in golden skin grinning with my panties in tow. All that comes to mind is shots of that same golden skin wet from my kisses as I nibble my way down to the treasured addiction.

This boy.

Is a demon.

I was in another country, the original plan was to stay for the weekend & someway, somehow the days kept on adding up & then the weekend we finally all made the decision to leave the Vegas of Africa;

I met #21.

By the pool, of one of my favorite clubs on that Island. He walked up to me, very direct, gave me his number & said.

“I don't want to make too much of a fuss. Just know I'm feeling everything I see.”

Skinny boy is skinny slacks? What? Of course. You look like a model. Do you model? You do?!

Noted.

I went back to my hotel that night with a grin on my face, I wasn't actually that attracted to his face myself to be honest, but I certainly didn't lose any points with lesser opinions so it mattered not.

Besides, his body, his style, his seriousness was just intoxicating. So intoxicating, how could I resist vacation sex?

I find myself saying that a lot.

“How can I resist?”

He came to my hotel room the next day, as soon as I opened the door I felt the game was afoot instantly. This pretty ass boy came to fall in love. I felt his desire for me. It crackled in the air.

I don't even remember how it happened to be honest, all I know is suddenly everybody was naked, suddenly his mouth was everywhere, suddenly all these gorgeous adlibs were raining down on me & suddenly my panties were being torn off by a perfect set of model teeth.

Absolute demon.

His penis makes me think of a Dragon, ancient & powerful, commanding, yet benevolent if loved correctly. Every rumor I had ever heard of the stereotypical African man presented itself in my face that day. I felt like the knight who instead of slaying the Dragon, wooed it to get to it's treasure.

To even compare it to my forearm would be incredulous.

& I took all of it.

I fucking bruised it. He got drunk off of my ability, no one had ever taken over his body like that. It's been years & he still calls, he still wants, he still needs, he still must have...

Me.

But he is a fool. Absolutely beautiful, to some, stunning body, to all, but very little mental capability. I don't know what he'll do when his looks run out. I always suggest that he finds himself another sugar mother to nestle a home for him somewhere in the years to come. He retired his previous one for the sake of his manhood.

Or so he claims.

He thinks I joke.

& in a way I do.

With our entire relationship.

I just wanna fuck.

But even then, at some point I got sick of him, it became too much, after his Doctor suggested he not involve his penis in any sexual relations until it healed, he still came round just to please me. The pleasing was simply disgusting. He had me climbing the wall to get away from his tongue.

While smoking a blunt.

As much as I profess to not like him as much as he may he, I am proud of that specific find. He is exotic & loved by quite a lot of girls, if there is no personal emotional pleasure in it for me it at the very least feeds my pride.

Everybody has a purpose.

You just have to find the balance.

So #21 will remain.
Until I'm sick of him or he becomes generally unfuckable.
We don't love these hoes.

We fuck 'em.

Year of the Slut: # 10.

I remember how you used to make me feel & at the same time I draw a complete blank, like I can't bare to recall that joy when you're so many miles away from me.

I remember some other things though.

Those Lamborghini Dream nights, with your chain around my neck & your tongue in the heart between my legs.

I remember some mother fucking things.

Because for some reason, no matter how much I told the world I hated you, when you came around me I glowed, you made the muscles in my body tighten up in anticipation of you.

You'll drown in me the day I see you again.

Time against us. Miles between us.

Somehow you remained & now you want to take that risk with me?

What planet am I on baby?

Because even though we had our days of just lighting each other on fire in a room filled smoke. Even though you loved me in a way that fit me so perfectly. The freedom you gave me, the honesty you fed me. My baby always get it G.

We all have our secrets & I had a couple of dread headed ones myself.

We were 97% honest with each other.

But I think of you now, unbuttoning my shirt & whispering “I don't want to share you.” against my neck. One hand works while the other dives. I think of how you'd touch me. What you'd say. I think of the ocean my body would make for you to leap in. I think of the way I'll wind my hips against my personal kryptonite.

You always amazed me.

& I always loved you. I couldn't help myself. I still don't understand it to this day, but when I think about you kissing the birthmarks on my inner left thigh, nothing has to make sense.

Remember that night I screamed so hard my dog started barking at you? He thought you were hurting me baby, can you imagine?

You'd come everyday, never fail & shoot me with that AK full of bullets filled with liquid joy.

I never thought we would last though.

There were others that came before me, that I understood held priority, that I might've even used as a reason to continue on with some of my more major sexual eccentricities.

'She' was my safety net.
So that no matter how hurt I ended up? No matter how badly I needed you?

I never failed to concede that you were never mine. So the pain was fleeting.

I knew you game too well, I could lead sheep to the wolf in your name with ease & the fact that you trusted me to? Meant so much to a girl like me.

I know you love my crazy little ass.

You have to, to still want me, after all these years?

Years, baby, years! Isn't that terrifying to people like us? We've seen the world in between our sheets, freedom is our oxygen, infidelity our bread & butter. How else could the sex have been so damn fantastic?

I think about where you'd hold me, where you'd touch. What would you kiss first? What would you want first? It's been so long, my body has almost forgotten all about yours.

But there's this one string inside my solar plexus that lights up when I think about you plowing me. It gets hotter when I think about that night you threw on your J's, like you meant some serious business.

You always amazed my body.

You loved it like you owned it.

& for a while you did. But then life catches up with you & youth doesn't survive the pressure. But that's what time is for. Second chances.

I wanna take you around for another spin baby.
I want you all up in my hair.
All up in my core.
All up in my fucking pores.

I want you to make it Thunder.

All over me.

So superstar, I'm just sitting here thinking about you, hoping, that you're sitting your somewhere, thinking about me, hoping that I'm sitting my somewhere thinking about you.

I mean...

All I want
Is a little of your time
So you could
Wine & dine
The depths
Of my divine
Design.

You just make it so easy for me to fall right back into place with you. But there's an ocean between us & these hazy dry nights get lonely for a girl like me & I know my Mister doesn't have to sleep alone.

So, yes I know, my imagination can take me far, take me to scenes of my knees rubbing hard against the hardwood floor, as you hail Selassie-I through the temple of my seraphic soul. But I control my visions that keep me wishing for a soul like yours, desperation will not even that score.

I wait for you to conquer me.

I wait for you to make me want to be conquered.

In the meantime, I'll keep on playing my little games.
But I'll only whisper your name.
& when the moon hits my face.
They'll know that you've already won the race.

My Perfect 10.

Year of the Slut: # 17.

#17

I had a boyfriend.
I knew I had a boyfriend.
He knew I had a boyfriend.
Just like I knew he had a wife.

But I still wanted it.

Maybe it was the art, maybe it was the dreads, maybe it was the Cheshire Cat like smile he had painted on his face when he asked what I looked like naked the day we met.

A couple hours of eye fucking in the club that night & as the sun crept over the horizon, it lit up all the dark corners of the SUV our naked bodies were resting in. He had driven us onto the beach, too hungry to wait until we were behind closed doors.

His hands caressed the side of my face & I suddenly felt his eyes burrowing into my soul.

“What are you looking at?”

He moved his hand back instantly & repositioned his body in a more defensive manner.

“You.”

I thought about the relationship I had found myself tethered in at the time & how I felt absolutely no remorse in the wake of a most grievous case of infidelity. I glanced down to the glistening gold band on my lovers left hand.

At least I wasn't married.

But that didn't affect me either. I sat up & stretched my legs out in front of me, relishing the space in the trunk of his expansive car. His fingers traced lines up & down my thigh, I could still feel his eyes on me.

I turned towards him, inching my thighs further apart.

“What do you want?” I coaxed his left hand to my center. He groaned immediately as his hands touched the waterfall.

“We shouldn't be doing this...”

His words only promote laughter from deep within my core. I was too young to care about whatever rules he had learned making mistakes like this. They were his to make, as this was mine. The man I called my boyfriend was only a disappointment.

& besides, his dick was practically microscopic & he came like Dolly Parton. Who expected me to remain faithful to such a thing? I accepted his existence in a moment of blind lust. He was just so god damn tall & so god damn dark & we looked so god damn good together.

How could my Vanity deny such a thing?

Thoughts of my soon to be ex boyfriend quickly fade away as I grip the monster in my hand, feeling his heavy pulse beneath my finger tips.

“What are we doing?”

I kiss the tip of his member & his eyes instantly shut.

“We're just two human beings, enjoying each other. You'll never want to stop enjoying me, you love this fat pussy too much.”

Another kiss, this time met with a groan.

“Why don't you come over here & show me just how much you're going to miss this during all those cold London nights. I might hate you next time I see you, this might be your only chance.”

His eyes fly open & he stares right into my own, looking for any sort of deception or mirth that would indicate my words be translated into a joke. But I did not change any part of my face, I neither smiled or frowned, I had never been more serious with him.

I had reached the pinnacle of my debauchery & my moral compass had become completely askew…it is the intentions of my heart correct? It is not in my heart to hurt the one I called my boyfriend but I had to, to keep myself happy, I did not set out to cause him pain, I simply did not have the courage to break free & so I deviated & like so many of the others before him, my feelings for this man had been completely eradicated in a matter of a few simple & blissful minutes.

Youth has no place for “feelings” & “sex” in the same breath in this world.

I glanced at the wedding ring, it gripped my inner left thigh. It would be his doom eventually. There was no denying that were was no future in us. I found his little bouts of jealousy attractive because of the deficiency's of the relationship I was in at the time. He would go back, continue to fuck his wife, get her pregnant & become an old fat man in 10 years.

Might as well get it in while the getting is still good.

I loved him in a way, but it was a strange sort of affection, the sort that doesn’t really ask for much, the sort that is just content in existing, never pushes you out of your comfort zone, never rocks the boat, in fact encourages your need for independence but drives the need for incredible sex from someone of like mind.

At the end of the day, I meant as little to him as he did to me. We both had others we loved more, & that list included ourselves.

His wedding ring slips inside of me & as I come down from my high?

I commend his wife for such a lovely wedding band selection with my tongue.

Year of the Slut: # 26.

I didn't realize the power my catsuit had over him until we were behind closed doors, he greeted me ceremoniously outside his gate & ushered me inside the landscaped compound. His dogs were nowhere to be found. I didn't think to ask where they were, I didn't really care.

We made idle conversation as he led me to the door, he whispered a compliment as he opened it for me, I thanked him as I stepped over the threshold.

Instantly he was in front of me. I was pinned against the wall. His hands groped my body with a hunger I hadn't felt in months. I dropped my belongings to the floor & wrapped my arms around his neck, throwing myself even deeper into his well of passionate attention.

His lips moved to my neck, my collar bone & then to the tip of my right nipple as his fingers peeled off the tight black spandex from my body. His lips followed the trail of naked skin my cat suit left behind as he pulled it down to my feet.

He dropped to his knees & growled into my womb, biting at my beads as his hands made quick work of the buckles of my black Mary Jane's.

I was against the wall immediately once more, but this time he was on his knees. I could feel his tongue flicker viciously as he slipped two fingers deep inside my warmth, brushing up against my g spot, I howl with joy.

Struggling to maintain composure, I grip onto his hair & bury his wondrous mouth even deeper. Begging him for release. He complies & 5 minutes later I'm set free all over his face.

30 seconds after that my nipples were freezing, pressed up against the cold glass of his expansive dining room table. He positioned himself in between my legs & in the next breathe he was inside me. We let out simultaneous groans, mine faded into periodic moans whiles his turned into incoherent religious babble.

I loved how he reacts to me.

This is our first time.

“You beautiful fucking bitch” He screams as I take control, gripping onto both sides of the table, I throw it back with all my might, relishing the sound of my beads rattle to their own music as my hips gyrate on top of his length.

I could feel him inside my stomach.

But I wanted more.

He flipped me over & I stretched my legs around his neck & brought his face closer to mine with their power.

“Baaaaby......” I lick the bottom of his left ear lobe. “Bring it home.”

He was back in instantly, like he had never left, determined to not let me forget about him. Like I told him I had with all the others, I saw it in his eyes, he wants this pussy to stay.

“Bring it home baby!”

He starts driving harder & the table begins to shake with us, candles & cutlery falling to the floor with a loud clatter. But I don't think he could hear a thing, all he saw was me. He grips my waist & pounds even harder, grunting out my name with each dive.

Our eyes lock with the other's & a smile is shared between lovers.
Our souls connect.

I close my eyes & throw my head back, shooting a quick prayer to my Creator, offering the pleasure I felt lest I not be worthy of it. I feel him groan into the crook of my neck as his grip on my body gets tighter. His need for me releases even more love from me to make him feel at home. He burrows deep within me body, venerating my temple with whimpers & soft kisses as it turns his mind into putty.

I feel his energy within me, I ball it up & consume it, beginning to laugh as I note him at the door of his peak. It's too wet, he repeats over & over, it's too amazing.

“Where did you get this from? Where did you get this kinda pussy from?”

He begs me for answers, I continue to wind my waist & with a coy smile reply.

“My village.”

Home is where the heart is.