The BG's

Awesome II called earlier today asking could we chill tonight.  Of course I told him it was cool, but then my stomach began to rumble and twist and I was reminded that earlier this morning I drank a large mug of Senna tea.

I told Lisa that I was probably going to spend the entire evening sitting on the toilet and not on dude’s face.  She laughed and suggested making it a movie night.  I laughed and told her dude was coming over to watch me ride his dick not a movie.

She disagreed but I know my past dealings with him have set a precedent for unattached good sex.  He can watch movies with Tuesday, but Friday and Saturday are for sex.

He called not to long ago.  I lied about needing to complete an assignment that was due tomorrow.  He understood and promised to call later this week.

Now that my option for sex has been replaced with the bubble guts and frequent sprints to the toilet, I am overwhelmingly horny.  The universe definitely wants me to be alone tonight.  Wouldn’t it be horrible if Deondre called and was like, “Tonight is the night”.  I’d die!  Just die!

So I’m in for the night and full of energy.  Guess I’ll be masturbating this evening.

I Want a $100 & Nothing Less

That last entry was a little preachy, but its the truth. Well its my truth. So since I advised y'all how to remain true to yourselves and not to settle, I suppose taking my own advice would help.

Being a woman of my word, I called Deondre last night and told him we needed to talk about something ubberly important.

I told him that I can't, won't, refuse, to settle for 20. That I want the whole thing. I want him.

I made sure it was known that I'm not asking for a relationship tomorrow or within the upcoming months, but that my clit is not the only thing I have to offer.

I revoked my offer of unattached sex. Being an attorney he replied that in the real world he'd sue me for breach considering he had accepted my pussy months ago.

I breached our agreement, amended the terms and conditions to include emotions and a possible monogamous relationship.

His silence scared the shit out of me. I knew he was about to laugh and reject my counteroffer and tell me anything more than sex was unacceptable.

Instead, he replied that he was proud I was finally being real with him that. That the offer of unattached sex was never truly accepted because he never believed I could have just a strictly physical relationship with him. That he could never grasp the idea of just fucking me.

He always knew I'd want more. Was happy I wanted more because he too wanted more.

I was shocked that I couldn't even shock him with the truth that I wanted more than sex. He explained that my first offer made no sense considering I have a vagina.

"Women can rarely fuck and buck, just face it. If you could do what we do, mankind would cease to exist."

He told me that this was what he expected to happen after sex, but glad it came before he erupted on my Versace glasses.

That he was a logical person and always thought with his brain. That he had little to no emotion, which allowed him to analyze things as a reasonable prudent person.

Apparently, the Grinch that stole Christmas has nothing on Deondre's cold interior. He has trust issues (like who doesn't) and this makes it hard for him to involve his heart in anything because he doesn't want to get hurt.

Deondre is a fucking machine and nothing phases him. And when it does he freaks and it resonates through the lives of everyone within a 100 mile radius.

I told him he has too many issues to be 31. That being with him would be too much of a challenge. But as always, he repeated, "If I want to be there in his life, it's my choice." He's not going to run away from me, but my revelation is also not going to make him jump in my bed or my arms.

He likes what we have. To me we have nothing.

To him we're progressing. To me we ain't moving nowhere.

Deondre wants me to be and remain patient. I want him to explain what the hell I'm being patient for.

He claims he's not trying anymore, he's just gonna do it.

But this isn't Nike and even though life is full of games, this shit is real and if I'm not drafted as his #1 soon, I'm out.

We Want More but Accept Less

My friend presented me with the perfect analogy forcing me to deal with my denied feelings for Deondre.

It went a little something like this:

When you want $100 from someone, do you settle for $20 and hope over time they give you the remaining $80? Or do you demand the full $100 and settle for nothing less?

He was right on point with his comment,and it made me realize that by settling for 20 you need to realize the person will never give you more because they realize from your actions you are open and willing to settle for less and less will suffice.

They will never respect your negotiation skills. They will never believe in your ability to be and remain patient. They will always see you as being worth less than what you are.

When you accept the 20, how after a few months can you reasonably expect the remainder?

So ladies, ask yourself: do you want the whole sha-bang, the full course meal? Do you want the man?

Or can you only handle the appetizer? Do you only want his dick, do you only want a fuck friend?

By accepting just dick you will limp away bowlegged with a throbbing clit, but don't think the arrangement will lead from appetizers to an entree to dessert to drinks to breakfast to a ring asking for your pussy in marriage.

If you ask for sex, accept just sex, and leave with sex. Do not present unattached pussy only to attach your heart to your clit and eventually become attached to him because it won't work.

But if you want more than sex admit this. Stop denying your hunger and tell him you want more than an appetizer and warn him you might order dessert afterwards. Let him know that you want a relationship. Let him know that you care. Let him know you are willing to be patient if patience means you get it all- that you get him!

But if you choose to be shy, to be too afraid to order more while sitting their with your stomach grumbling, then realize his 20 is just that. It ain't a raincheck for 80, it ain't an IOU, its unattached sex.

When you settle for less but desire more you only end up hurt and wanting more. If you allow 20, if you fuck him suck him and try to love him, he will opt for the first two and remind you that, "This ain't no love thang, we just kickin' it."

The way a relationship begins will determine the dynamic between the two individuals. If it's just sex, it will always be sex. Your ability to suck his balls while stroking his dick making him cum will never be enough for him to make you wifey.

So know what you want and accept only that. In the process of wanting more you may get rejected, but at least you avoided a potential breakdown of sitting outside his house at night with binoculars calling 30 times a day. This will only end in a restraining order and the label of "that crazy bitch I used to fuck back in the day".

You will only get hurt when he opens his wallet and tells you that he ain't got $100 to give. That he can only spot you $20.

But you will be devastated if he spots you a $20 and tells you to stick around for the rest, only for him to never pay up. Only for you to have wasted your time and limp away while the next bitch gets the $100 and everything else in his bank account.

So ladies, know what you want, accept what you want, accept what you get, and know what you get is all there'll ever be.

He Ripped Me A New Asshole

I just got fucked less than 7 days ago, yet I’m still in an orgasm frenzy.  I told Lisa last night that I need some regular dick in my life.   That I need to get fucked ASAP.  But how can I implement regular dick into my schedule when less than a month ago I couldn’t even find the time or strength to masturbate?

The tongue is a powerful weapon because today in class I got what I asked for.  I got fucked in my ass raw with no lubrication.

My professor fucked each and every person in the class by banning laptops, textbooks, and notes.

Shit, when he was fucking me he demanded that I also leave my pencils, pens at home because things are about to change.

He won’t even let us take notes in class while he lectures.

So thanks to this morning’s fuck session I will never have time to actually get fucked the way I want.

A Woman's Strength Can Be Her Weakness

I hate weak men.

But I love weak men.

Looking back, each ex has allowed me to dominate the relationship.  I don't know if this was done on purpose.  If they felt that by completely disregarding their opinions, morals, and desires this would convince me to stay.  

Rather than agree to my demands, I'd appreciate a man who will challenge me from the beginning and make it known that he stands for something yet is open to change but won't waiver in his beliefs because he wants to ensure a smile on my face.

Women are known for testing men.  We ask them certain questions, do offensive things just to see their reaction.  If he lets your rude behavior slide, he loses.  If he checks your ass on the spot and lets you know to never ever in your existence try him like that again or else, he wins.

But rather than reward the winner, we dismiss him as being controlling, too domineering, and walk away with the loser because at the end of the day we are too afraid to let a man be a man. 

We thrive on weakness; yet feign for strength.

So if we want the latter, why the hell do we continue to ride weak dicks?  Why do we continue to cook and serve bitchassness yet complain about the after taste? Why do we continue to inhale the bullshit and allow it to infiltrate our lives?

We do it because at the end of a long day complaining about our man's missing balls, we can't handle a real man telling us to shut the hell up and listen.  As my classmate jokingly states when I catch an attitude, "Eat the cake AnnieMae!"

We aren't ready to hear NO because we have become accustomed to hearing MAYBE followed by OK.

We devise tests with the hopes that someone will step up to the plate and pass with flying colors.  But the moment a man passes we reject his score and walk away.

Yes I agree that the complete bitchassness men leak from their pores is unacceptable.  It’s intolerable that before they speak, bullshit formulates in the air.

But come on ladies, if a man said NO to your Gucci purse demands, weekend vacations, sprees to Nordstoms you'd replace him with the biggest loser because you know the biggest loser realizes in order to stay in the game he must open up his wallet, pour out his heart, and hand you the scalpel to remove his balls.

So it goes both ways.  Let a man be a man.  Allow him to grab his balls and remember that they are HIS not yours.  Have his back and stop thinking that being in the background at times means he doesn't notice you or value your opinion.

A real man will always let you shine, he will always let your voice be heard.  We've got to stop dominating our men because at the end of the day we want a strong man with two balls who will not concede to every thing.  Who will stand up to opposition and us when necessary, but will fuck us good, love us right, then go out and buy us that Gucci.

For my dear friend, who just like me needs a strong man to put us in our place from time to time.  

The Freaks Come Out At Night

Last night my eyes were open to the clear fact that my friend is a man.

He’s always been a man, but for the past 3 years I’ve only been able to see him as a friend, a mentor, the person I can run to with all my fears and not worry that he’ll take advantage of my thoughts and try to fuck me over (or fuck me for that matter).

He is a wonderful person.  A wonderful friend.

But the problem is, men hate being placed in the friend category because it removes the idea of sex.

So I placed him in the friend category because, well, he’s a friend.  But I slipped up and one day noticed that he was a man.  An attractive man.  I made the mistake of caring while also wondering what sitting on his face would be like.

I opened Pandora’s box and told him how I feel.  I put my pussy out there, not realizing that when pussy is involved he is a MAN.

A man who wants sex, and only sex.  A man who can easily separate the emotions attached to friendship from the expected orgasm(s) attached to sex.

The problem is, I cannot separate the fact that he is my friend.  I have love for him.  I respect him.  I admire him.  

So how can I turn all of this off and fuck him?  How can a friendly conversation at 10pm turn into a revelation of sexual fantasies and invitations to materialize such thoughts?

He told me that I talk a lot of shit but can't back it up.  Since I can’t back my ass up on his dick and become open to the idea that us and sex is just sex makes everything I’ve written, everything I say a lie.

But it’s not that simple.  I fuck men who are not worth anything to me but an orgasm.  They serve only three purposes: to eat, fuck and leave.  Once their task is complete they are disposable until I need them again. 

They are dicks, balls, and tongues.  I do not respect them.  I respect the power of their thrust. 

I do not admire them.  I admire the skill they posses in their tongue. 

But my friend, this man, is amazing.  And even if he is amazing in bed I can’t allow myself to detach how I feel just to satisfy the new tingle in my clit. 

Maybe I can’t separate my adoration for him from the simple concept that sex is nothing but a physical connection.  But I’m okay with that, because if I had his mindset he’d become another victim.  He’d become a man I fuck and not a friend I love.

So today I choose friendship over fuckship.  I choose to have feelings rather than feel nothing but a thick dick thrusting inside of me.  And hopefully when I see him today things will remain the same and the man, the freak, that emerged last night will still also be my friend.

Red Rain Go Away, Come Again Another Day

My friend is visiting this week.  I pray she’s ready to leave and catche a red eye Thursday evening because I really need time for myself.  Plus I really want to get fucked this weekend.

Fran During the Day, Fiona At Night

Turns out Shrek is a goon.

I love goons.

Well he’s more like a reformed goon.  An educated goon.

He used to call me bust it baby, but now calls me jazzy bell.  To him it means a lady in the streets but a freak in the bed.

He wants to put me on the wall, and…

For a quick second, my clit lost its usual twitch and began to tingle.

Good Fucks (and Friends) Come a Dime a Dozen

I can go years without seeing a previous fuck or potential fuck and once horny (or desperate) enough can strike up a conversation with them about the past and quickly get to the present fact that we should be fucking instead of playing games.

Why is it so easy to revert back to our old habits and old fucks?  Yet when I haven’t spoken to a female friend from back in the day when life existed outside of school, its almost unbearable to link up again for lunch and figure out what the hell happen.

I’d rather crawl back to the second most random fuck than call a friend who over time has become a memory.  At least I can remember her name unlike some of those dicks I fucked. (j/k)

I flashback to a good fuck and automatically I want to call him and find out when he's free.  But I can’t muster up the courage to call my friend and ask her, “Bitch, what the hell happened to you?”

I guess chasing an orgasm is much more effortless than salvaging a friendship. 

You's a Hoe...Hoe! I Said That You's a Hoe!

I had this homegirl in undergrad, and the entire four years of knowing her she was always with a man.  There was never a two-month gap where she slept alone or in her own bed. 

This used to piss me off and I began to consider her weak.  She went from freshman boyfriend to Asian fuck friend to Kappa fuck friend, made him into her boyfriend, left him and met another fuck friend.

She has less than half the number of sexual partners I do, but chick was always fucking.

Women are constantly condemned for sexual exploration while men are praised for the same act.  So instead of fucking a different man each week we choose to fuck one or two men and make whichever is the most reasonable into a boyfriend.

Now I realize how judgmental and naive I was.  She wasn’t a weak female, chick just had serious hoe ass tendencies and could only control them by entering into random relationships with wack ass men to prevent fucking everyone in sight.

To think about it, a lot of my friends suffer from this condition.  Shit, I may have it too.  I think a lot of women jump from dick to dick and turn them into relationships to mask their true urge to fuck and buck as men do.  And then rely on the explanation that fucking 10 boyfriends is better than fucking 10 random dudes whose names you can’t even  remember.

But is it really?  We jump into bed and into relationships with men to cover the fact that we want to freely fuck random men.  And instead of exercising our fundamental right to fuck without commitment, we fuck and force commitment on ourselves to justify being young and horny. 

So rather than be a single, horny, whore we become wifey.  All the while waiting for the current relationship to end and  the cycle to continue.

So now that I’m single and exceedingly horny, how many men will I fuck until subconsciously and socially forced to commit without being labeled a hoe?

Add 'Em As I Go

Awesome II will be my last new fuck for this year (minus Deondre's coveted dick).

Today, I wrote down the names of every dick I’ve fucked.  Looking back I have no idea how my list developed into more than a dozen victims.  Like, when did I have enough time to fuck so many people?  Not to mention some of them are so random.

Like this football player from freshman year.  He was so black.  People used to joke that when we fucked the only thing I could make out in the dark were his eyes.  I didn’t care what I saw, all that mattered was I could feel his dick.  His stroke was pretty decent.  Turned out our senior year he was accused of raping some lily, white girl.

Then there’s this random Sigma. I don’t even remember if there was a real orgasm with him.  His dick was small and fat.  I’m so ashamed of fucking him that his name is not even allowed on the list, its just …

The Kappa with ‘locs was expected.  I seduced him on purpose.  We worked together and people used to brag about his dick, so me being ubberly curious decided to try it out.  It was huge but he lacked foreplay.  I rejected his bust it baby offer and he started dating my homegirl.  Now they’re in a serious relationship but he still tries to holla at least once a year.  She has no idea we used to fuck and always invites me on double dates.

I’d say the most random fuck was my ex.  I never imagined fucking his skinny ass.  I remember the first time we made out and I discovered his king Kong dick.  It was like ordering a Gut Box and finding two free special sauces in your box.  I was completely shocked but too delighted to complain.  But we know how that dick went, absolutely nowhere.

So for every man I've fucked with feelings, I've also fucked four to match.  So starting today, I am only going to fuck men I've already fucked. 

I have my clit on this dude whose dick was too big for comfort.  He was my personal mechanic and had the best sticky icky I had ever had.  He’s a fire fighter now.  I’m sure he’s still with his girlfriend who lives somewhere in Florida.  Their status doesn't concern me, I didn’t care then and I don’t care now.

I’m going to get his number and call him up.  Plus my brakes are squeaking and my oil needs to be changed.

I Caught Something

Its official!  I have feelings.  I like Deondre.  Like, I really like this man.  Lisa told me this weekend it’s so obvious that I want more than sex.  And only tolerate his fuck shit because I’m crazy about him.

So to keep it real, I really like this man.  I want to date him.  I don’t want him to move away.  If he does move away I want to visit.  I want more than sex.  I deserve more than sex.  But I know its just sex.

Maybe he did put a root on my ass.

Put It On Me

Lisa thinks Deondre put a root on my ass.  I told him what she said and he laughed.  He denies such practices.  Claims that when he puts that dick on my ass I’ll be praying it was a root instead, because after him there will be no other.

Whatever!

Flashbacks

I’ve been catching chills all weekend.  Lisa witnessed the first episode while we were studying Saturday.  I was reading an article and out of nowhere my body became warm and my clit began to tingle.  I was flooded with thoughts of sitting on awesome II’s face.

She burst out laughing and told me too stop thinking about Deondre.

The second chill occurred while riding in the car with a friend.  We were returning from Target and were discussing the difference between a moose wearing lipstick and Palin.  She yelled “You betcha!” at a McCain bumper sticker.  I laughed. 

Next thing you know my body became warm and my clit began to tingle.  I was overcome with the thought of having my mouth pressed against the wall while awesome fucked me from behind.  My lips forming an “O” dressed in MAC’s Port Red are still stained above my headboard.

The third chill happened this morning while talking to Deondre.  He told me to check my messages for a surprise.  It was another infamous dick and balls pictures.  I veered to the right and almost ran into a Charger.  I was overwhelmed with the desire to ride the shit out of his dick and get the orgasm I deserve.

Right now, I’m in class listening to this soft spoken ethics wannabe guru.  She is so ubberly boring and I keep attempting to distract myself with YBF, but I can’t help the flashbacks and the fantasies from taking over my body.

Boys Will Be Boys

Faye says I make too many excuses for Deondre.  She hates when women make excuses for men.  I agree, but the reality is we all make excuses for men.  Whether we are fucking them, trying to fuck them, or have been fucked over by them, women naturally curve the amount of bullshit flung there way by lightening the blow with a simple excuse.

She claims she won’t be like most mothers and make excuses for her sons.  I told her she’s full of it and will continue to perpetuate the same cycle our grandmothers did.  She believes the problem begins during childhood.  Mothers make excuses for their sons, and as they develop into men the women in there lives are forced to continue the cycle.

When my little brother was caught kissing a girl in the coatroom, my stepmother exclaimed, “He’s just being a boy.”

When my cousin punched the neighborhood kid in his face and broke his nose, my aunt was proud and exclaimed, “At least my boy ain’t no punk.”

When my father missed my college graduation my mother said, “Don’t get upset, sometimes men forget the simplest things.”

When Deondre played me last week, Faye stated, “He’s a nigga, but I’m sure he’ll call tomorrow.”

No matter how much we try, no matter how the statement is re-worded, women are always liable for excusing the behavior of men.

My homegirl Lisa commented that she’s tired of making excuses for men and wants to date men who are excusable.  Men who know no better than to disrespect a woman, not to call when promised, cancel fuck appointments and reappear weeks later as though nothing happened.  She believes the only excusable men are goons. 

But this only creates the mindset that higher education denotes respect and just plain ole human decency.  But it doesn’t.  A man with a Ph.D. is not going to respect you because he wrote a 100-page dissertation.  He will only respect you if his momma taught him that kissing the little girl in the coatroom was wrong and not something acceptable just because he was a boy.

It’s a vicious cycle and I have no solution, but if an excuse can lighten the harsh reality that most men aren’t shit, that most of them are fuck ass pussy ass niggas, that there is no hope they’ll ever evolve and even when they are 31 they will always be boys waiting for a female to pacify their behavior, then excuses it shall be.

Who Needs Hair Gel When There's Cum

Lisa read the last entry and was pissed at how abrupt it ended.  So yes, dude came in my hair.  I don't know what happened.  He was fucking me from behind and next thing I know he Picasso'd my back and it hit me on the left side of my head.

There was semen in my ear.

Semen in my hair.

And semen on my pillow case.

It took everything in me not to flip.  All I could do was screech at him to get the shit out of my hair.

He rushed for the baby wipes, cleaned me up, and ran his fingers through the front of my hair

"Something About Mary," he said and laughed.  He attempted to replicate the Diaz jizz spike.

It didn't work.

We fucked for another hour and this time his cum remained in the reservoir tip.

Thank goodness I have a standing hair appointment every Saturday at 6am.  When I woke up, the back of my head was matted.  It didn't dawn on me until sitting at a red light that my hair was matted because of his dried semen.

I wanted to warn my hairdresser before she applied the perm but I figured what's the worse that could happen.

Trey Eats Pussy, Yes!

In undergrad, my friend and I had this mild obsession over Trey Songz.  He was just so damn fine and his first CD was pretty decent.  He's not my type, but he does this bottom lip biting thing that I love, and for some reason he just looks like his slim frame can fuck the shit out of someone.

Knowing this, my male friend text'd me about this new song he has.  Its called Sticky Face.

Then later tonight I was reading this wonderful blog @ www.pchats.blogspot.com/, and she has a post about the song.  (hope she doesn't mind I put her on blast like this, sorry)

So Trey is no longer 12!  He cut off his hair and is singing about eating pussy!

I can't wait until iTunes gets this song!