People live better when they're inspired..this is to honor the seat of my creation and sexuality

You're invited to experience a softer side...

WOMB NOIR SEXI: Amazing beautiful creaminess...doing everything for great healing...intuition just kindly leads me now over pretense...quite ravishingly so...the unfolding vaginal-lips, wet, x-rated, youthful...zatch. (!)


Guess My Exhibitionist Phase is Over…For Now

…Or maybe just in hibernation.

Call it a business move, or something more personal than that. I’m a self proclaimed Black Female Nudethusiast, but if you notice, all of the nude pictures of me are gone from this site. They maybe be floating around there in cyberspace somewhere, and that is something I cannot control. But I’ve been moved by Spirit to turn over a new olive leaf (Adam and Eve reference…the leaf that covers their genitals in the nice paintings).

When Spirit speaks, you listen. When it calls you answer. When it instructs, you obey. If anyone knows what I mean, holla if you hear me.

There really isn’t anything else to say about the matter.

Well maybe there is. You see, I’m a freelance writer and I use this in my profile as a part of my portfolio. I don’t want my clients to see me nude. That is a service they AREN’T paying for. But they do want my words and storytelling abilities via my custom erotica service. That I give them and I serve it up very, very well.

And neither is anyone else. I think I’ve found a nice safe outlet for my nudies and I’m happy with that. I think for a time I just needed to get them out there, it was my way of celebrating freedom and personal liberation. They may return, in calendar form. In coffee table book form, in digital e-book form…but for now, this space can’t hold the full magnanimity that is then energy of the image of my naked body right; I know my power now.

A man who wanted to date me demanded that I take these photos down. He didn’t last long in my life.

The man I’m seeing now is a photographer. Go figure. While he’s spoken to me about the permanence of anything you post, and his words have penetrated deeper that I may have wanted to admit at one time, I feel that being open minded about needing to take them down at some point is something helped me do. I made the decision on my own, by deciding to obey the instructions of my ancestors, but I certainly enjoy the freedom I feel from this man who doesn’t insist on owning the rights to my body. Nobody can truly do that. It goes against why I even created this blog.

It’s a space for pleasure and creativity to thrive. But there’s a context for everything, and things change. I’ve changed. And change is good. It’s soooooo good.

Pussy Eating Fantasy…

Eat my pussy eat my pussy eat my pussy! Eat all the honey and coconut oil out! Till the cows come home. Till your mouth gets tired, and longer. Till I’m begging you to fuck me, shove that rock hard chocolate cock inside of me, then take your dick out, and put your face in my pussy again. Eat me from every position. Eat me from the back with your nose in my asshole, while I’m on my back with my legs in the air, while I’m riding your face and rivers of soma are spilling out of the sides of your mouth, while we’re both laying on our side and my thighs are sandwiching your cheeks, while you’re on the couch and I’m straddling your face while you’re holding on so tight to my thighs, digging your finger tips in my skin….

You’re pleasing me, you’re loving it, you’re groaning, you’re telling me I tastes so good…you’re not caring when my roommates come home, you don’t care if my sister is there, you pin me down and tell me you want that tongue to go as deep inside my honey canal as it will go. You spread my cheeks wide open and your tongue slips down to my ass. I am crying crying crying because I know once we have reached this threshold there is no turning back. You are holding me after I am shaking with orgasms we created together. You are humming on my clit, sucking on her, making all kinds of delicious and sucky, spitty, smacky noises, with your juicy mouth mmmm! You smack my ass with delight! You’re dick is has hard as a stainless steel beam and you cum when I do…you have been initiated, you know your desire to please me has made you that much more of a man.

When Giving Turns Sour…

Help me. I need to know….

What is sacrifice and what is shifting…

What is devotion, was is drudgery…

What is the damn difference between unconditional giving and unconditional grief?

I want to know: Does being a woman=being submissive=being a sap?

I KNOW there is a way to stand in your power and still be a WOMAN…make that man MELT to your desires, HOWEVER…sometimes I wonder if I’m LOSING respect for myself if I continue to keep my mouth shut and “follow his lead.”

…In the beginning of this little sexual-fling-turned-more…I said “OK….I’m just gonna SUBMIT. It’ll be DIFFERENT. It’ll be FUN…”

I guess that one time I did it and the one time I didn’t want to (giving in to all of his sexual demands or I’ll even venture to say “requests” and began to feel less than a return on my investment in the oral sex area)…I began to feel resentment.

But when did the resentment start? When did my patience run out? I went off on him, and he left after he got quiet, and I know he’s thinking this may not be worth it…He hints at leaving the situation altogether and I get into negotiator mode or lover mode and sweet talk him and convince him into staying…well…part of that is his decision I know, but I think what I need to do for the next few days is just be SILENT…keep doing all I was doing in the beginning (men can’t go back when it comes to sex) because it did bring us closer, it was harmonious etc, wasn’t it?

One thing I think is funny when it comes to reflections in relationships is that…as soon as he says he may want to leave I begin to find all the ways and reasons as to why our situation is not that bad…even though I was JUST COMPLAINING…as if the situation is just that bad.

One thing I do try to do now in all of my relationships though is to understand that hey…we all screw up…we all do things other people don’t like…and even though I’m complaining right now…I still wanna suck your dick and I still wanna feel all your love inside (Marvin plug) and I still wanna work things out…be here with you…and be happy. The main thing is that I always wanna be happy. Even if I am doing or thinking  the very thing that would make me unhappy

Whether it be:

  • keeping all my feelings inside when I really have something to say and want to feel heard
  • opening my mouth and complaining when there’s a better way to express a concern-(sometimes the best thing to do is simply be silent and shift my energy from within)
  • continuing to talk as if the person doesn’t get me, after all I made painstaking efforts to explain myself so well
  • not trusting that my visions and intentions for this whole thing to shift DO come to pass
  • seeing everything through the eyes of Love.


It sounds so hoity-toity, so lofty, but it’s true. I know this situation came from me and I know I can transform it. I’ve got all my tools and and I’ve used them before so they’re well broken in. I just have to know. Yes…you may have gotten yourself into a situation where you feel that you’re doing more than your fair share. But focus on the good: Don’t you love the look on his face of pleasure…and when he says your name? Don’t you love the affection and sweetness and bonding and even art that has come out of this luscious experience of deciding to give yourself fully to something…even if the person doesn’t know, even if the person doesn’t fully fit the mold of perfection right now…don’t you see the potential for your OWN growth? Don’t you, as a woman, feel POWERFUL in the way you can make a man’s knees buckle…and slowly…you can find a part of yourself opening up that you never knew was there…and in turn that opening up allows the space for RECEIVING more of him, more of sexuality, fluidity and LIFE than you ever thought possible…WOW….

My answer is yes, Yes, YES! I do, I can, I will, I AM.

The Pleasure of Anal, First Time

nude black paintingIt was an intense experience in which i would just have to trust….trust my breathing to take me over the threshold of pain, trust that he would listen to my requests (slow down, go deeper, less friction, take it OUT!)…I was too scared and that’s what made it more painful. I was fighting it (the pleasure, and the pain). But, those moments when he would go deep and I would relax…those were the moments where I experienced bliss…

What can surrendering to physical pain teach you about life? I found that the deeper into the trenches I got into the pain, I got in touch with a pure essence of myself. (This also happened one night when we were together and I was experiencing hellish cramps.) I didn’t know that part of me was ever there, always there, just waiting for me to get to it’s soft center.

Breathing was important. And I think it’s the same when trials and tribulations and the emotions around them feel that they’re trying to rip you apart. I almost had to find this silly part of myself to deal with the pain, because even if I took breathing too seriously, I ended up wanting to push him out. (He even said that I would say stop while simultaneously backing it up on him. I found this funny because it shows how the body often betrays the mind.)

The pleasure of anal is a deep pleasure. It has to be, because it simply doesn’t feel good unless it’s deep. The fact that the pleasure overrides the pain and I end up begging for more of what I initially resisted is just utterly ridiculous, and I laugh at myself. This is the silly part.

Support is definitely key. My partner’s kissing me on my back, neck, and shoulders was totally divine. His talking to me and laughing with me, telling me that it will feel better soon… It was such a mirror as to how we can be outside of this sexual experience.

Because it felt good, I now feel even better about trusting him.


The Day He Made Me Swallow…

I love that there is a bird called “swallow.”

It’s a beautiful word.

I am too impatient, too wanting, too reminiscent and in my fantasies, just too damn horny to try to find any type of relationship between the characteristics of this bird and the events that happened that night in which I “accidentally” swallowed his cum, because they could apply to any bird almost. I was high that night, high as a kite, and birds fly. Go figure. It’s my pussy doing the talking right now and if you want coherent sentences then go to my other blog. This blog is supposed to make you wanna suck and fuck.

In other words, “get like me!”

But…we were HIGH. I loved it. You know those little cartoons that you see always see associated with the 1960’s? I saw those pictures. I was TRIPPIN’. And it was a sexy night anyway. I guess we just had to see each other. I didn’t arrive at his home until 1:00 AM. Maybe later, I don’t remember. I said “What are you doing up?” He had to go to work the next day. “I wanted to see you.”

Damn I love a man of few words.

So we chilled. I laughed. He played music. His cousin played on the computer. He sat next to me and I laughed into his shoulder. He said something to his cousin in Twi about me. I couldn’t let it go and asked through my laughter,”what are you saying about me?”

“I said you’re high.”

“Oh.” Bitch, calm down… I laid my head on his shoulder again and gave in to my need to say nothing, even if what I wanted to say was light ‘n’ fun.


Sometimes even I know when I need to “relax my pussy,” (I got that line from my friend.)

As soon as his cousin left, I got on top of him, straddling his substantial chocolate-y dark muscular body. I was so turned on that I was ready to be turned out.

His hands are so huge, complete with long fingers and they can palm my ass like a good pair of hands should. I probably inhaled him a few times, burying my face in his neck and taking a deep inhale… While learning how to handle all of his length and get the tip of his dick all the way to the back of my slick wet throat over the past few days, I realized that breath control was a major part of deep-throating a nice rock hard cock;  a cock that was slippery and wet with spit; making my pussy wet as well.

Note that the  vagina is just another throat and the throat behaves like a vagina in many ways….It can stretch to accommodate things that it wants to receive: like cucumbers, dildos, and deliciously dark dicks. It’s self lubricating too.

I realized this link when I was taking a break from massage school before going to work with the kids later that day…I had scheduled myself a regular masturbation session.

When I put my finger deep into my pussy, all the way to the back, trying to reach my g-spot and further, I realized every time I swallowed that the walls of my vagina would contract.

But you have to be relaxed to stretch, do you not?

And slow, deep breathing helps to relax, does it not? Think about it.

…I felt like I was in college again. Someone could come downstairs and catch us. It made it all the more hot.

I wanted to please him. I made it my personal mission, not for him, but really, for me. It was getting to the point where I was probably enjoying the blow jobs more than he was. And it wasn’t like a job anymore, its was more like a fun exercise in receiving his energy in a way I never thought about before. I could literally feel electricity coming off his dick onto my hand when I would play with it and massage it before “giving it a kiss,” as he would always request me to do.

I wanted to get to a point where he would trust me to do what he liked without him having to tell me. But if tonight was any indication of what was to come, I think that will be possible…

He had asked me to swallow, or how I felt about swallowing. I said I would do it, if I wanted to. I wasn’t against it…

So he’s sitting on the couch, and I’m working magic on that dick. I feel otherworldly and not in my body. I don’t know if I would have been able to stop had “Aunty” come downstairs. I don’t know if I cared.

He was enjoying it so much and it turned me on to see his faces and to hear him tell me that it felt so good…my mouth was so wet and I would alternate between licking his balls and deep-throating…all at his direction, and I would ask him in a breathy voice “does it feel good…” I don’t think he was really interested in talking beyond giving directives, which he likes to do.

“Lick under balls,” he said and I found this spot that was smooth and I was focusing on receiving all his energy at once, I felt things in my stomach and in my pussy that I usually wouldn’t feel, “I never felt that before” I remember him saying…

For the last time I was damn near swallowing his dick from balls to tip, he was holding me there, and breathing harder, and all of a sudden, it was like time had reversed and I felt his warm cream flood my entire mouth, and THAT’S when I realized that the hole of his penis was touching the back of my throat and and I felt it shoot there and flow like a river down  my esophagus to my stomach…I got up almost not realizing what I did. I just know that I had to resist the urge to feel and say that I was “tricked.”


I loved it, I wanted it, and afterwards I lay in his arms and just kinda of held his dick there, to my face. I just wanted to feel it there. I didn’t wanna let it go right away, and he was sensitive to the touch. We were cracking up because he says that my sated-ness and sedateness was an after affect of swallowing cum…and I wondered…just what had happened on a metaphysical level…

I felt butterflies and cum in my stomach. And yes….I was full.

Songs of the Summer of ’96 and, of course, Love.

Toni Braxton. Detroit ’96. I was getting in trouble a lot in school and my sister was sent by my parents to talk to me, about how I wouldn’t be able to go to Detroit over the summer if I kept getting in trouble. I went anyway. (Spoiled then. Still am.)

For every summer there is an album that defines it for YOU. Maybe a few. For that summer, in that city…on 8 mile and 7, it was this…

toni braxton secrets album cover

“…Can you keep a secret?”

The songs activated my heart chakra, before I even know what that was….I was in the 6 or 7th grade! My sister cheated on her boyfriend, by kissing another guy (rolling eyes) and I had  HUGE CRUSH on my brother’s friend (who understandably, at that time, paid me no mind)…I cried to “How Could An Angel Break My Heart.”

It’s time to remember good music. It’s time to remember the summers that changed our lives before we understood what transformation was….when we danced for the first time at strip clubs at 14 and were encouraged by our older sisters to “drink that drink!” We have to remember LIFE.

This album embodied future dreams when I THOUGHT I knew something about Love, illustrates lessons and themes that I USED to feel, (but I’ve broken through those old paradigms, for instance one of the songs “Why Should I Care?” asks a question that I know all to well the answer to “because you are a reflection of me,” and also speaks of not being able to forgive. Which, I can’t say that I’ll never reach that blockage again. But for now, I am clear.)

This album also seems to paint pictures that are currently framing the walls of my mind. “You’re Makin’ Me High,” (cause my pussy is HOT) and “I Love Me Some Him” …Not anyone in particular…that kind of Love is kind of a….mishmash of many feelings for many people at any given time expressed in different ways…And, I’m just grateful for my capacity to feel that deep.

Deeeeep….when she says I gotta “Find Me a Man…sensitive eyes….sensitive MIND…” It was the first time I had actually heard that line…really HEARD it…then I said….wow. I’ve come a long way…I manifested this man and I never knew or even recognized that this is something people SING about. Powerful.

So, give it a listen…cause to top it off…Babyface’s lyrics and arrangements…and Toni’s vooooiiiiccceee, omgeeeeee…….I’m gonna shake HARD tonight.


Ode to my (friend’s) daughter.

Welcome to the world. We need you. Become who you fully are. Naseyah Naseyah Naseyah. I don’t even know how to spell your name. But I hope to never forget it. This is for you…”bursting out of me.”


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

%d bloggers like this: