Cunnilingus Impostor

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Nothing irritates me more than fake, phony, fraudulent people. Especially, when it comes to sex.

You see, I am who I am. Always have been and always will be. I don’t lie about myself or pretend to be something I’m not. That goes for in the bedroom as well.

If I tell a man that I enjoy bringing him pleasure through oral, you best believe that when the times comes, I will prove it.

We all do it. Have the conversation before we tumble into the bedroom. We brag and boast about our sexual prowess. We exchange likes and dislikes to see if we’re compatible sexually before we ever reach the bed or car or shower or wherever you end up.

Okay, maybe myself and other sexually open people have these discussions. Though I honestly think everyone should have honest and open talks about sex beforehand.

Anyway, we have these conversations and begin to get excited that we’ve found our sexual match. “Oh my gosh! He likes what I like.” Even better for a woman, “He likes going down. No…he loves going down!” It’s a rare treat to find.

You get all hyped up, ready for your date. You shower and spend extra time preparing Priscilla (Yeah, that’s right. I named her Priscilla). You meticulously shave her. Make sure she’s so fresh and so clean. You may even give her a taste and a smell with your index finger, just to be sure. All’s good in the neighborhood. You’re ready.

Your date has come to an end and it’s Go-time. You excuse yourself to the bathroom to give yourself another sniff and taste test. Still good to go. You come back out. You kiss passionately. So far so good. Clothes start coming off. Touches and kisses down the body ensue. He’s almost there. Then finally, he reaches the promise land. You mentioned during one of your talks that it takes you a while to come. And he responded with, “It doesn’t matter how long it takes. I love eating p*ssy. I’ll stay down there an hour if I need to.”

So now is the moment you’ve been banking on. Now is the time for him to prove it. It’s been five minutes tops (more like 2 or 3, but I’m trying to be generous) and he’s not doing too badly. Then suddenly he raises up and starts kissing back up your body.

Wait, what?! That’s it?!?! You scream in your head.

Disappointment floods you and taints the rest of the sexual encounter. You know without cunnilingus, you more than likely won’t come at all. Sidenote: About 80% of women can’t orgasm internally. At least not without the assistance of stimulation to the clit.

You like the guy because he seems like a stand-up individual in every other way. So just for good measure and against your better judgment, when it’s time to go down on him, you put it down just like you told him you would. He is f*cking dazzled. You think that maybe that would guilt him into improving for next time.

It doesn’t.

You realize…You’ve been bamboozled. Lied to. Scammed.

This mofo loves cunnilingus about as much as most of us like kale. It’s alright, but not something I want to eat all the time and in large quantities.

“I’ll f*ck it, but I ain’t eating it.” That’s what I think most men feel.

The biggest problem for me and I’m sure some other women out there is that I’ve seen the promise land. Hell, I’ve been there. And it was glorious. For any woman who has been with a man who actually loves cunnilingus. Who actually adores and worships p*ssy. You’ve been spoiled and ruined.

My ex was an a**hole, but that man could eat like a fat kid at a buffet. The first time, took forever. Like many females, you’re so in your head, worried about taking too long or if you smell and taste okay, that we almost never come the first time he goes down. But my ex went down at the beginning of the movie Hildago (Ha!) and was still going when that damn horse crossed the finish line. Unfortunately, I didn’t cross my finish line. But it was not from lack of trying on his part. But that’s how dedicated he was to getting me off. The next time we were together, though it still took me a while, I was finally able to reach that peak. It was glorious.

I used to say all the time that he would figuratively strap on an oxygen tank, slap on some goggles, and go down like he was deep sea diving.

When he went down he NEVER came back up without me finishing first. Even when I’d tell him to give up because I was taking too long. And that goes for the boyfriend I had before him.

So twice, I was blessed with cunnilingus experts. I know one when I feel one. You can’t pretend with me. You can’t fake that kind of dedication. That kind of praise to the p*ssy.

So men, or anyone about to crack their lips to tell a sexual lie, rethink it and be honest. Because she/he is going to find out anyway. And all it will do is disappoint.

Set her expectations low and aim higher than that. Don’t promise her the world and then give her a blade of grass.

My Curse…

And How it Led to Breaking Girl Code.

This blog/confession/purge will not make me a popular person. It alone will make any female I know never want me to be around her man…ever.

You see, I have a curse. The curse of always being the 2nd choice who men realize in hindsight should’ve been the 1st choice. This is part and parcel of being a DUFF. Let me explain.

Being the cute chubby girl (or woman now), I often get bypassed by men who are on the prowl for their next lady. I find that when men are on the hunt, they are often searching for the most attractive woman they can find. Or at least the hottest they can get (no matter what he looks like, mind you). That leaves many plus-sized females on the sidelines. Always the last pick. Like it’s Jr High gym class all over again. I was rarely ever first pick for the dodgeball team.

Then I make friends with a fellow female and we start hanging out. Invariably, I meet her man or I’m there when she meets her new man. Most of these girls are lovely and rank in the upper percentile of prime, grade-A female. But with a beautiful woman, often comes a bit of drama, baggage, or self-esteem issues. I’m not trying to be mean, but if a female grew up mainly being praised for her looks, often times that’s all she focuses on. Not all, but many. At least in my experience.

So anyway, this is where the bickering, the drama, the insecurities, the fights begin. You see, he got the hot chick, but he didn’t realize that she is a lot of work. Not saying that DUFFs aren’t work. I just think, at least for me, that I’m super laid back and chill. I’ve learned to become relatively comfortable in my own skin. I’m funny, optimistic, I don’t let a lot of little things get to me, and I appreciate the small stuff because I’m not lucky enough to get anything more. So I’m usually the mediator in these arguments between my friends and their men.

This is when he sees me. Sidenote: This does not happen with ALL of my friends’ men.

You see, I’ve found that when men are attached and not on the hunt for the hottest thing walking, they are more aware of other things besides the hotness factor. They often take off their superficial blinders that blind them to anything other than 7s-10s. And no, I’m not downing myself. Personality-wise, I’m an 8-10 depending on who you’re talking to. I just know how people judge bodies. Anyway, I digress. Once the blinders are off, they actually see me. Unfortunately, that’s also when inappropriate touches happen. Touches that seem innocent and if I say otherwise, I look crazy when he denies it. But then there are touches, actions, and/or words that are without a doubt exactly what they were meant to be.

For instance, when I was 19, I was hanging out with my friends. We were at my best friend’s boyfriend’s house. He was older, so he’d gotten us booze. At one point, I passed out on the floor of his room next to another friend’s boyfriend. Everyone left the room for whatever reason and next thing I know, I’m jolted awake by her boyfriend laying on top of me (I was laying on my stomach) and he commenced to humping my ass in his f*cking tightie whities, no less. I was so shocked and too damn nice to say anything. I just laid there stunned. Then I heard footsteps and apparently, so did he, because he rolled off of me and pretended to still be asleep when everyone walked back in. I never told my friends because I knew they’d think I was crazy. Actually, that’s a lie. I told one of those friends years later and she waved it off as if he was joking. Because it couldn’t be possible that anyone would want to sexually assault the ‘fat friend.’ That’s why I don’t say anything when this crap happens to me.

Another time more recently, my friend’s man said to me when no one was around, “If I had of met you first, it would’ve been you” or “If it hadn’t of been her, it would be you.” I can’t remember exactly how he put it, all I know was that I was floored because it came out of nowhere.

These are just two major examples. Most times, I couldn’t be the slightest bit interested in these guys. I usually just feel bad for my friends, though. They deserve better than their men making subtle or not so subtle moves on their good friend.

Sometimes through it all, I think that I’m crazy and imagining things. But recently, one of my friends who I really don’t talk to anymore because of my newfound unapologetic blackness that she’s uncomfortable with just broke up with her man, who is also my friend. In all honesty, I liked him more than I liked her. She was never easy to be friends with, but that’s still not an excuse. Anyway, when we all used to hang out before I moved, he would be so flirtatious and so up-in-my-face that even she noticed and yelled at him for annoying me. He would break the rules of personal space and get in my face to talk to me. He’d sit really close to me. Or he’d rub my ear. I always pulled away from him, but there was an attraction there that I couldn’t even deny.

Once they broke up and she started playing for the other team (Yes, she became lesbian. Does that make what happens next better? I have no idea.), he contacted me and wanted to hang out. I pushed back and tried to keep my distance, but one thing led to another and we met up. And he, of course, appreciates every single thing about me. From my personality, my intelligence, my body, my everything. Something I can never seem to find in a man who has no association with my damn friends.

I mean, seriously! I haven’t dated anyone since 2009. That’s eight damn years! And I hadn’t been touched by anyone in 3 years before him. That many years without affection and not much human contact can make you go crazy. So now we have this odd relationship that I don’t know what to do with.

In the end, I knew I wasn’t crazy. This thing with him just solidified my theory. Talking to him about his attraction to me when they were still together just confirmed my curse. The curse of First Choice, Chosen Second.

I hate it.

Round, Brown, and A-broad: Welcome to My European Dream

And How to Find Yours…

Me & The Eiffel Tower

First, let me start by saying; Round, Brown, and A-broad is going to be a blog series within my regular blog about my journey (and future journeys) overseas. About my experiences as not only a female but as a black female who happens to be fluffy. I mean, we all know that the gender you identify with, the color of your skin and the number on the scale can greatly affect your experiences in any given situation. Traveling is no different. And I’ve seen plenty of blogs/vlogs featuring gorgeous slender black women who have ventured abroad. Well, what about us chubs? Well, that’s why I’m here. To find that out.

Recently, I just returned from my very first trip (which was also solo, I might add), to Europe. It was a 20-day tour that encompassed part of the U.K., Italy, and France. So this series will detail my journey with commentary, ratings, tips, photos, and some videos of my trip. Some posts will describe a whole day. While some will be solely about a single incident. They may come daily, weekly, bi-weekly, hell just whenever I feel like telling you about my whirlwind trip. Let’s not get bogged down with strict schedules. That’s not how I operate. Just know that you’ll get a tasty travel treat every now and again.

But first things first. How did I do it? I’ve lived abroad in Japan before when I taught English for a year. But then, I had someone (the company I worked for) meeting me on the other side with a sign and a shuttle bus. With a hotel already booked for our week long training. As well as a ticket already paid for for the bullet train to my assigned city. Going to Europe solo was a whole other situation. All I had were a couple of friends who travel a lot to give me some tips. And keep in mind, up until that point I had never planned and executed a vacation completely on my own before. Yes, I’m 38. Yes, that’s fairly late in life.

So I kicked off my planning with a simple Google search. Scrolling through the options for planning a European trip, I stumbled across the Holy Grail of European vacation planning. RoutePerfect!!!

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This site is the bee’s knees! The interface is user-friendly and super cute. You have tons of options, from using the sliders to adjust your preferences or manually entering the countries and cities you already are interested in. You can choose your budget, how you want to get from Point A to Point B, your dates, and what type of vacay it is (family, romantic, solo, etc.). Then you hit “Price Your Trip” and it will give you a list of available hotels in every city you’ve chosen with the option to swScreenshot (2)itch hotels based on price and/or accommodations. The hotel options are also through TripAdvisor so you can click on the hotel, which will redirect you to their site, and you can see a map of where the hotels are located as well as read reviews. Then, once you’ve picked the right hotels for you, click “Book Your Trip” and they book every hotel in every city all at once. Instead of doing them one at a time. They email you vouchers for each hotel that you print out just in case you’ll need them at the hotel (not all hotels need them).

I’ll admit, at first I was super skeptical of this site. I could barely find any reviews about them other than the testimonials on their site. And who knows if those are paid for or not. But now that I know, believe me, if you see mine, I was not paid for it. And other reviews I saw on other sites were based on how easy it was to play around with, but few had actually booked. So I went out on blind faith that I wouldn’t get my ass over to Europe and end up sleeping on a park bench somewhere.

There was one slight blunder on their part, though. The hotel that I originally chose for my two London stays at the beginning and end of my trip ended up not being available, even though the site said it was. A rep from RoutePerfect contacted me within minutes, they gave me other options that were within my price range and had me booked with those options within 48 hours. They also upgraded me to the executive suite at the first hotel free of charge for the inconvenience. So I was happy.

As far as transportation for roundtrip air to and from Europe as well as flights within Europe, I used Kayak.com. That’s always my go-to site for flights. But I just checked and now RoutePerfect has made it where you can book your flight from their site too! I even compared their prices with Kayak and they seem to be Even-Steven. Definitely an added bonus.

They even have a button to click that takes you to the EuroRail website to book your train tickets. As well as one for booking activities that I either did not see when I planned my trip at the beginning of the year or is a new (and convenient) feature they just added. There’s also a button on the first page that says “Transportation.” Click that and it’ll take you to a site that will give you the average pricing for train, plane, bus, etc for getting you to the different cities/countries you have planned within Europe. So you can see what is the fastest and cheapest option to get from one destination to another. Basically, you can do it all from this one site. And when you’ve decided what you want, you can save your trip for when you’re ready to book. Keep in mind though that the prices and availability are subject to change from minute to minute. So one hotel that you want when you first play around with it, may not be available when you’re ready to book.

Anyway, I know it sounds like one big commercial for RoutePerfect (Hmm…maybe they should be paying me. Ha!), but it really is how I planned my perfect European trip. And if I can help a fellow traveler out there, I will gush all day long about this site.

Stay tuned for my insights and shenanigans from my actual trip.

Until then, Peace, Cheerio, Ciao!, Au Revoir…

The Problem with Natural Black Hair

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I lied… THERE IS NO PROBLEM!!! Do you see this gloriousness?!?! When I see pictures of a group of naturalistas I almost feel giddy. Because it is a beautiful sight. Hell, even when I see a crowd of black women with natural, relaxed, wigs, short, long, braids, afros, locs, etc, my heart swells with pride at the stunning variety.
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In fact, if you think about it, if when we, as black women, see a group of stunning natural sistahs and are struck with pride, envy, and awe, imagine what those who aren’t black feel. Which is why there is a “problem” with natural hair.

 

 

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They can lie all they want and say that natural hair is threatening, unruly, unprofessional, etc. What they’re really saying (especially after seeing beauty magazines try to copy our style, but with different names) is, “I’m so f*cking jealous of what you can do with your hair and pull it off so effortlessly. You’re hair is cool and trendy and unique and I can’t compete with that ish. So instead, I’m going to make you feel ugly and inferior.”

I’ve made it my life’s purpose to watch and pay attention to why people do what they do. I’m a writer and what motivates people is something I’ve always been interested in. So I notice these things. It won’t be true in every case, of course. But I’m telling you, more often than not, it is so very much about the jealousy.

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If it wasn’t, folks wouldn’t try so hard to emulate what we do…

And for me, personally, I don’t care if you want to copy our style (aka culturally appropriate) as long as you:

  1. Don’t rename it to try and make it your own (That’s just rude and stealing) See: Cornrows [the real name] aka Boxer Braids [the bullsh*t made up name], Bantu Knots [the real name] aka Twisted Mini Buns [the bullsh*t made up name], so on and so forth
  2. When sh*t goes down and black people or any other races that you sample from, are treated poorly, get your ass up and fight along with us
  3. Don’t tell us that our hair is unacceptable at work or anywhere else for that matter and then wear the same style (just renamed) a minute later.

Because after all, imitation is the highest form of flattery. Just so long as you give credit where credit is due. And the credit goes to our maker who made us in his image and our creativity to manage what he gave us. Please, respect it.

And for the rest of us, let’s enjoy, revel, and be proud of what was given to us naturally. For it is beautiful.

 

***I do not own the rights to these photos.***

The Sex Whisperer

sex-whisperer

Recently, I’ve realized that I have a special calling… Sex Whisperer. *says in soft breathy voice*

Let me explain…

Being a woman who has openly and enthusiastically talked about sex since I was a senior in high school, talking to my friends about it every day at lunch, buying PlayGirl magazines, reading bodice-ripper novels and renting NC-17 or X-rated movies in secret once I turned 18; it’s no wonder I write about it for a living. As well as comfortable with the act itself.

Sex has always fascinated me. ALWAYS!!! I can’t remember a time I wasn’t curious about it. Because of that, I am a sexually open woman. I love to try new things to keep it spicy. When I learned what BDSM was, I was like “So that’s what’s wrong with me!” Not that there’s anything wrong with the lifestyle, but that I wanted a little pain with my pleasure and always thought I was strange because of it. It’s an amazing thing when you find your tribe. Though, keep in mind, I haven’t actually been able to get into the lifestyle as of yet.

Why?

Well, because for some odd reason I attract men who are prudes or sexually repressed due to the vanilla women they’ve been with. There’s nothing wrong with prudes or vanilla sex. I just prefer…more.

So anyway, these men that come into my life are dying inside to come out of their shell. Then here I am, outgoing, open-minded, and completely encouraging. And slowly, they emerge out of their shells like a butterfly coming out of a cocoon. Sometimes, not so slowly as they come barreling out like a bull out of a bullpen in their excitement. Doing things they’ve never done before. Enjoying sex in a way they haven’t be able to in a long time, if ever.

I am their Sex Whisperer.

They tell me what they’re interested in, almost embarrassed and I listen openly and am usually willing to give it a try. They become more vocal before, during, and after sex. I even make them feel more confident with praise and compliments. Sometimes they find fetishes that they like that they never knew or had the chance to enjoy.

I can see why so many relationships don’t work in regards to sex. People need to be more open about their wants and needs. Ladies, ask your man what he really wants and don’t turn your nose up when he tells you. Just hear him out. Maybe what he wants will be enjoyable for you too. Men, be honest about what you want because if you’re not upfront, you’ll seek it out somewhere else, which will hurt your partner.

And another thing ladies, let your freak flag fly. Stop worrying about what people will think about you. If you’re honest and they don’t like it and walk away, oh well. It’s their loss. You would’ve been miserable anyway. Don’t sexually repress yourself because of what society might think.

As for myself, can I just find a man who is already a freak and doesn’t need to be taught? A man who encourages, praises, and compliments me for a change? I love it and it makes me feel good to uplift a man, but can a sister get some of that in return?

I need some ass-smacking, foul-mouthed talking, neck-choking, rope-tying, flogger-welding, call me Sir Dominant in the bedroom and a sweetheart everywhere else. I got plenty of meat on my bones, I won’t break.

I’m sure he’s out there somewhere. Until then, I guess it’ll be my mission to heal these poor repressed souls.

Sidenote: I know that it’s not always about sex. It’s more about communication and a deep connection with your partner. I want just as much stimulation outside of the bedroom as I do in it. But for the sake of this post, it’s all about the sex. 😉

Hard Lessons Learned

Storytime!

August of 1997, I moved into my dorm at Southern Illinois University. That first weekend, I participated in all the freshman activities and bonded with the other students on my floor. Little did I know, that same weekend a boy that I had a huge crush on and dated one summer, died in a car accident. My mother called and told me the following weekend. I couldn’t believe it. Death at that age just seemed so unreal to me.

Stunned, I walked over to my suitemate’s room and told her and another guy about this tragedy. Do you know what she said? Let me tell you. She looked at me with cold soulless eyes and said, “Well, I guess you can’t f*ck him now, can you?”

Silence.

The guy and I looked at each other in absolute shock. He kinda gave her the side-eye and then asked me if I was okay. Being the sweet, unconfrontational person that I was, I brushed it off and hoped that she’d just had a small stroke, which caused a glitch in her brain that would make her lash out and say something so cruel.

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I really wish I knew about this sage advice back then, because that female, to-date, is one of the evilest people that I have ever met in my entire life. And honestly, almost every time I’ve met someone this Maya Angelou quote remains true.

Which brings me to the reason for this blog post.

I’ve heard this phrase since January 20th, by tons of people about our new Manchild-in-Chief, who shall not be named… “Just give him a chance.”

Uh… Why?

He showed us exactly who he was from Day 1 of announcing his plans to run for president. Even before that. Are y’all deaf? Are you blind? Did you get amnesia? Did you just wake up from a coma? Are you Rip Van Winkle and just woke up after a long ass nap?

Were you not there when stories about him stiffing working class people out of payment, who had worked for him? Did you really think his main concern would be you, the little guy after you heard that? Were you not there when it came out that his university scammed thousands of people out of money while fattening his pockets? Did you not think that since he has money deep in the Dakota Pipeline that he wouldn’t find a way to bypass the halt on it through sacred Native lands? Did you not know that his clothing line was made in China as well as that hideous red hat talking about ‘Make America Great Again’? Did you really think he’d suddenly have a change of heart and run out and get you jobs? When he talked about grabbing women’s pussies, walked through the dressing room of pageant contestants (underage as well) while they were undressed and rude enough not to show his own wife the simplest of courtesies, did that not give you at least a tiny indication of what he thinks about women? Now he’s signing papers, surrounded by equally douchy men, to get all up in our business and vaginas.

When he said he’d repeal the ACA, what did you think he was talking about? Oh, never mind, you thought the ACA and Obamacare were two separate things.

Did you not see his childish tweets about the media, hear him praise Putin, or cry orange tears when anyone criticized him? So how is it surprising that he’d try to silence the media or anyone else who may criticize him? Or when it looks as if Russia really was tampering with the election? Or that the very first press conference held under his administration was about the media pointing out (accurately) the ‘yuge’ difference in Obama’s inauguration and Orange Foolius’ inauguration, instead of something important.

And all that is just a fraction of the sh*tty man he has always been.

At no point, during the campaign or after the election has this Orange Beast shown that he is a decent human being. He’s shown that he is unwell. And that hasn’t changed one ounce since he rode down that elevator a year and a half ago.

Those of us with our very rights at stake saw it immediately. The only people who are telling the rest of us to give him a chance, seem to be people who are living a charmed and/or privileged life. Or in denial and don’t want to admit that the man they voted for was a catastrophic mistake. Trying to remain in this dream world of sugar plums and gum drops.

But y’all gonna learn soon. Just like I did in 1997 as a kid at college.

Too bad your foolhardy views and complacency as ADULTS will probably destroy lives and quite possibly our country or even the world.

Just remember… You were warned.

Happy New Year?

Hey, folks! Long time no see. I’m sorry I’ve been away and inconsistent for a while. I’ve been too flabbergasted with the changes this country is going through to even come up with anything truly coherent to write about.

Relationships? Meh.

Body image? Who cares?!

Trumpelthinskin? Don’t even get me started.

Anything I’d write would sound more like the ravings of a lunatic. Incoherent, spit-filled rants.

So instead, I’ve been trying to get my ducks in a row just in case this country goes to hell in a handbasket. I’m not above running to another country. Especially, considering I’ve wanted to move for years anyway. The election results just put a fire under my ass to get going.

Anyway, I have some trips planned this year and I pray that they revive my creativity. Hopefully, I’ll be able to write a fun travel segment.

Stay tuned…

Stay hopeful.