The Numbers Game...

So...how many people have YOU been with?

This question always get's me, it's not that I'm ashamed or want to keep things a secret but difficulties arise when I actually start to go back and take a head count.

According to my calculations, 5 males entered me between the timeframe of 18-22. However 10 females rocked my world between 21 and on. Somehow I always thought i was in the 17-18 total range, shows you how amazingly talented I am at math!

These do seem like low numbers...quite low...it even seems...pathetic!

Now I do have to calculate the fact that before I was rockin' and rollin' with the females since my coming out back in december, I didn't have sex for 4 years prior to that during my transitional "am i queer am i not" phase. However before that, there was my "sex club" phase, and there were some other encounters during that time and before that time that puzzles me.

Now here comes the tricky part. What actually constitutes the number of sexual partners counted? What constitutes the naming of someone in that list? Does it have to be full on full sex? Or could it be a random affair with fingers? 

A discussion (or more like a friendly debate) ensued on this topic about a month ago with a certain ex of mine. She was adamant that things like blowjobs or heavy petting in sex clubs counted in my numbers. I on the other hand was on the opposition, adamant that it wasn't. Things like blowjobs don't count.

Then I realized if I actually DID count these Miscellanious category, that my numbers would be GREATLY changed from a virginal 15 to close to my 30's! Eeeep!

Ok so now i'm trying to do a full count, because I never counted all that...because it never counted in my head...and now i can't remember which makes my angelicness seem like the devil in diguise.

1..2..3..4..5..6..7..8..9..10............

I really can't count... i give up

So dear readers, what do you think? Do you think oral sex ONLY with a partner when i was 16 and slutty counts? A random finger fuck in a sex club with 2 girls on top of me? Random strangers I used to have come over my parents house when I was 17 and naive and discovered America Online chat rooms count? I mean he did cum on top of me. Does that random blowjob I gave this kid at school when I was 18 who had like the smallest dick I'd ever seen count? How about the intense makeout session with 3 other individuals or that other threesome of blowjobs i gave? 

I honestly think at this point that i've FORGOTTEN all these encounters...especially the straight ones with bio-males. I mean all the crazy blowjob and random encounters occured when i was 16-18 and I never gave it much thought afterwards. I was playing a game of russian roulette from being so shelted and such a good girl when I grew up that when my parents were away, I would become a dirty slut with an angelic face. It was my thing for awhile that got me off, before I realized that men were only used at my disposal and that they never really got me off, just filled an empty void because I was lonely and depressed at the time. I guess this is what happens when you are a loner you're entire life, at least in my case.

Not that I'm bitching or whining, i'm more in question of how people count there numbers? I'm still on the fence, but I'm wondering if i'm doing that because I want to be in denial and still a good girl or as I have been called before a "fake ho", which I needed to wikipedia that one because I never heard it thinking it was a an insult but rather a compliment because I'm not the type that sleeps around (now), and as I grow I realize how sacred sex is and how I want to share it with someone special, not another one night stand to get me off (barely) and give me a temporary boost to my self-esteem.

Maybe I'll just tell people 20 from now on and leave it at that! Now I truly understand why the whole Bill Clinton "Is Oral Sex, Sex?" thing in a WHOLE new way!

The Abscense Of Being

I've just started to build some readers and then poof, not a word written by me for over a month. I do apologize dear readers, it's not that i haven't had any new material, it's just that I have been experiencing so much that I haven't had time to process nor write about it.

I am single once again, but I fear that I was never taken to begin with, or perhaps I was taken by charisma and great sex and I thought it could be something more because of a wonderful connection that in my mind seemed to be blooming with each days passing.

When it was good...it was really REALLY good, but when it got bad...it turned ugly. It turned into a monster of horrific proportions, one that I became terrified of.

There was a point where I felt like I was walking on eggshells because of the personal problems or demons that she was battling. I tried so hard to be there and help, but it was never good enough. I felt like she wanted 100% of my time. What puzzled me is that she professed that everything that was outside of her work and her business came second. I however saw the opposite of this and felt the harsh brunt when she told me that she was tired of coming in second in my life. I didn't understand that it was ok that i came second in HER life but that she had to come first in MY life.

She was the first of many's. She was the first orgasm that I have ever had outside of masturbation. She was the first person I ever made love with, she was my first out of body sexual experience. I felt so close yet so vulnerable but in this amazing way.

It was after we departed and after she moved cross country that she revealed to me that after our out of body experience love making, that she realized that we weren't compatible and that was the reality of it.

It broke my heart...SHE broke my heart...I didn't understand how someone could be so cruel. I didn't understand how someone could say that they loved me and that they would never abandon me and how much they cared for me, could say that? I felt beaten up emotionally, I felt discarded.

What really bothered me was that it came from someone who has dealt with some serious issues concerning abuse...and even rape. To this day, to have someone do to someone what they could not emotionally handle from others, and do it so easily...really made the hairs on my body stand on end. It gave me chills.

Then there was the issue of alcohol abuse, and how it affected everyone around her. When she drank, it was like Dr. Jeckyl and Mr. Hyde. She became this person who was downright scary and completely rude to those around her. The final straw was when she became drunk at a HUGE show i was performing at and began pushing people (my friends) out of the way to heckle performers with dollar bills that she was waiving at them and distracting their performances. She spit on me and everything I have worked so hard for because of her own problems, but then she expected me to be there for her?

I was so busy with performing and being nervous since it was a huge event that I didn't see anything, all I heard was that someone got kicked out of the venue by two security guards. It was then where several eyewitnesses and sources helped me put the puzzle pieces together to figure out exactly what had happened, when I found out the whole story, I was simply disgusted.

Even with all the disgust, I still cared about her and hoped that she was doing well in the new town she moved too. I still wondered if she cared after the mess she caused but instead of realizing that people care about her, she shit on me all over again saying how I didn't care or how I was never there for her. I was hurt because I was there for her, but she didn't let me in to help her. You can't block people from helping you and then turn around and complain that no one is helping you. It just doesn't make sense.

I felt that after the comments were made with very little apology for her actions, that I have to let her go and hope that she realizes the problems that she causes in her own life, and REALLY does work on them instead of blaming everyone else and calling them abusive. I really do wish her the best in her life.

As for me, I am busy exploring new ventures and new places, and sometimes old faces that have resurfaced in my life. I want positivity and not babysitting of others problems, I want connections without heavy prices to pay and great sex without bullshit to follow. I come first in my life because in the end I have to take care of myself before I can take care of anyone else and that is the way it should be.

At least I came out of this relationship alot better than my last...phew! :D

Vaginal Trials

Getting tested is never an easy thing, but it is the ring of fire we must go through for our past actions...some which we may have regretted.

It's really the one thing that we can NOT try to weasel our way out of. The one thing that we must take accountability for, At least in my opinion.

So yes I have a new sex partner, maybe even a dating partner...not sure of the actual specifics of terminology...and yes I am playing things that way. She makes me feel fuzzy and more importantly she makes me cum like no one has ever before..the energy being passed between the both of us is an out of body experience.

I can talk about how amazing she is all day but after amazing sex, after a plethora of amazing orgasms over and over again and as I lay in silk lingerie on my bed after she has left, reality sinks in.

The one good thing about her is her honesty. Before we even slept together the second time (yes the first was a bit drunk but still hot! see my blog Animalistic for those details) we had discussed our sex partners and the last time we were tested. I started the conversation outright once I realized that what I thought was a one-night stand could turn into regular sex! GREAT sex at that! I had been tested more recently than her back in May after a possible scare from one ex-fuck buddies imagination. Now you know WHY that one was fired!

We slept together a few more times, more than I have ever slept with someone since I am super famous for One Night Stands. That makes me sound more like Debbie Does Dallas but I'm really a good girl, I've just haven't met anyone that I wanted to do a repeat with. Though in the interest of my health, I do have a policy that with all new sex partners, whether it is a one time thing or on the regular, I get tested.

So on Monday morning, I headed over to the Fort Greene Department Of Health in Brooklyn and got it all done.

I know we are all there because we are being responsible...or realize that we weren't, but it is the most daunting and awkward position when you first enter the room, take your number, and sit down. You are instantly being stared at, and judged. Sitting in this sea of collective judging, the criteria are based on class, status and appearance, and as you are sitting down, you yourself are scanning the area looking at everyone who is staring back at you. The hospital white walls make the wait even more pleasant and uncomfortable.

You notice that most of the patrons are starting at the flatscreen television watching Safe Sex programming and instructions on how the STD clinic works. As you look clearly, and into the heart of it all, you realize that they are all reflecting on their lives and mistakes while using the television as a diversion. I guess that is truly the American way.

It is then that you realize you forgot all about the urine test. You realize that after your morning pee session, you didn’t drink anything because you were rushing to get out of the apartment. You remember that you have performance anxiety about peeing in public, and there are a lot of kids…A LOT. You see a water fountain surrounded by an obnoxious child in equally obnoxious pigtails who won’t give it up and you become self-conscious about taking so many trips up to the water fountain. You attempt to rationalize to yourself that all the shots in the world and relevant STD’s have no standing on urination. You realize you are on a tight budget this week and can only afford Metrocard fare to get to and from your destination rather than the big bottle of water that you so desperately need. You also realize that you will have to make a conscious decision to become the “weird” girl in order to complete your task. You NEED water intake!

They call my number finally and after that I only wait a few short minutes before they call me again to get registered. I am handed the dreaded cup, bulb syringe and container to put my finished pee in. I gather some strength, have a huge gulp of water at the fountain and head towards the bathroom.

Is it at this time where every mother and their child decide to come in, and everyone is loud. My performance anxiety over peeing is at its peak, and there is nothing releasing itself from my body. I frequently get out of the stall to let other people use it and when they look at me weird, explain to them that I can't pee and am waiting. I mean at this point my strange behavior owed them at least some sort of explanation, since I was in there for some time. When all the mothers and screaming children had left, the only cup that i had to drink from was the pee cup..and NO I did NOT pee in it while drinking. I started loading up the cup from the sink and the only water coming out of the sink was warm water. So as I am doing warm water shots over and over again, walking in and out of the stalls, walking in and out of the bathroom to walk around, going back, doing more shots, back in the stall, trying not to think about her because i end up getting aroused and want to do something else in the bathroom and then having something else coming out that would not be pee...it was a whole struggle between me and my vagina and with extreme time constraints.

After my lecherous adventures in vaginal turmoil and purgatory, the water shots finally gave in and I was able to fill the container. Who cares about a shot after going through that battle! I instantly felt relaxed and sat back down, not having a care in the world as to who was judging me for my time gone. I could now sit, stare at a wall and eavesdrop.

There was the queer butch who was going to jail (and who was checking me out) in the next week with her friend, a mother to a child that would not stop touching the water fountain...most importantly with her lollipop. Her other friend that talked loudly on her cell phone right next to the sign that said "NO CELL PHONES", which I thought was the definition of irony. The group of 18 year olds who ended up leaving because waiting was apparently too much for them. The girl on the swim team who was there for a physical (she didn't talk but it was apparent), and the girls who were so into their own world that when there number was called like 15 times, THEN decided to get up and walk very very very very slowly. There were other random people, but quite forgettable to be honest.

About 4 hours after I walked into those hospital white walls and sat down. I am called into the little room or as I like the call it “The room of the potential nervous breakdown” and present my ID to the nice woman attending me. Confirmed Negative for HIV once again and I am relived. Though, I honestly wasn't worried this time because I do take caution and take care of myself, but it's always better to be safe then to be sorry.

I get my results printed out and walk out of the clinic feeling so rejuvenated, I rush back home to wait for many good things that arrived at my doorstep that evening.

In conclusion, yes my vagina and I battled today, I won...of course because I always do...but damn at least if I write ANYTHING in this blog, it's to remind me to drink water !!!

Compacted Energy

I'm addicted to her orgasm....

It's like one of those Hadouken that Ryu throws from those Street Fighter video games. It's this ball of contained and compacted energy...it glows yellow, like a firefly.....it's this orb like substance that floats above her, growing more and more with the passion that lies between our sheets.

It starts off in her mind, the wanting, the needing, the suckling of my flesh. She bites me, marks me, bruises me, scratches me, pushes me, and ravages my body. The more and more she is on top of me, penetrating, filling, piercing, puncturing and entering, the more I see the glowing yellow ball start to descend like a ball floating downwards on a typical New Year's Eve at Times Square.

As we move about in our elaborate passionate fucking, I see the ball drop further and further towards her dick. The ball encompasses her beautiful naked body and makes her glow as well....I feel it more and more, getting closer...oh so close.

By now, I start to glow a feverish red...the yellow and red mesh together as one creating a luscious orange. We are as one for that very moment leading towards orgasm...and it's not going to stop anytime soon. We fuck and fuck and fuck and by now the ball situates itself as the base of her cock. It begins to spin....and quickly picks up speed.....it's spinning furiously as she tells me how hot and tight my pussy is for her....my pussy becomes her addiction, one that she reveals in small increments.

Her movements become rapid as she gets close, I push all my energy into my clit to let her know it is time. We go for broke, pushing all are energies together, all our colors, our passion, ourselves....the spinning ball curves backwards, ready to unleash hell at it's target....my clit now burning, begs for mercy.

It charges and then it hits me, like a freight train...like a roller coaster after it climbs all the way up ready to charge down at the bottom. My body is thrown aback by the feeling and tightens up as my own orgasm envelops my body. The orange aura of our sexuality begins to resemble the colors of a rainbow turning every shade of red, orange, yellow, green, blue and purple. We stop for a second as our eyes meet and stare at one another...it is a pause of a few seconds that feels like a lifetime.

We keep going after that...only to see where the journey will take us again.

Animalistic

She mounts me as I lay on the glitter covered floor. We had been making out all night and it was time to take it to the next level. I feel a finger enter my pussy and feel around. I almost began to scream for another finger as she pulls it out and lowers her head. Her tongue envelopes my clit in a way where I have never felt before. I begin to moan in ecstasy as her mouth begins to suck my circle of pleasure. My hands clasp the dirtied black floor and my nails begin to dig into the glitter surrounding us. As my hands carve away, as my arms begin to tighten up, as my legs begin to spread wider, she knows I am ready.

At first I feel it, just a tiny bit, as her 10 inch cock enters my body, and enter it all it did. Her rocking movements were in perfect harmony with my hungry body. We fuck for what seems like hours, moving about, changing positions. She gets off on my tight pussy and begins to tell me so while alternating that from how badly she has wanted to be inside me from the moment we met 5 months ago. My mind races as she tells me this. I know it's a heat of the moment conversation, I know it's not real, it's only a dream, but for now it's what I need.

I remember when we first met vividly. I was working the door at a theater and mistook her for being a part of a large reservation of teenagers. It was then that I looked at her again and realized she looked a bit older than 15. I laughed to myself for making such a silly mistake and when she passes me by again, I struck up a conversation that began with an apology. We talk and there is something, but nothing that I wanted to actively pursue...or did I?

I see her around every so often, and the more I see her, the more I want her inside me. There was this raw, aggressive, quality about her that I needed. I wanted a pounding that would leave me with bruises the next morning. I wanted it rough. I noticed more and more that she was checking me out, and in my feeble attempts at playing the field, I ignored them....but I still saw it. The glance, the once over, the eyes carefully peeling off my clothes with my every move. It was then that I realized how intricately I moved my body when she was around.

Now, just right now, she is inside me. I still move my body and pay close attention to the details. She pulls me close to her as I begin to cum for the first time with her and makes these sounds that were so raw and deliciously animalistic.

She was like an animal in complete heat, fucking me with a fervor that I have longed forever to experience, yet she doesn't overshadow my pleasure with her own, she makes sure I cum for her, she makes sure that her kitty sings a beautiful song in her honor. She turns the kitten in me into a roaring lion.

Afterwards I am swept away, but not interested in anything remotely relating to a relationship or love. I am addicted to her incredible sexual prowess and it's like a drug. I even had symptoms of withdrawal the next day, almost writing about in pain because I needed my next fix. She is my crack, my cocaine, my heroin....and I want to use it until it has satisfied me. I guess this is what it truly means to be in lust.

Vaginal Insecurities

My pussy is brown. There I said it...

I mean it should be, I am a woman of color, though from the outside I don't look it, but I can save my race for another blog post.

While girls wish for bigger breasts, that perfect nose job, liposuction, and botox injections, I on the other hand wish for a pinker pussy. My obsession with the color pink spans from the bedroom to my box in an exquisite manner complete with glitter, sequins and feathers. That is what I want my pussy to look like...the pinkest burlesque fan dance you have ever seen.

As the years have gone by, I have noticed my girl getting darker and darker, even around my inner thighs. My pussy as it stands, is the only indication of my heritage, let alone my dark pink nipples. I sometimes grab a cheap hand mirror, lay down on my bed and stare at her. I take alot of pride in my pussy by shaving it frequently as I like the clean shaven look. As I stare at her, I allow my fingers to trace it's shape. I pay close attention to it's every detail. This ritual can span 5 minutes to hours if I'm really bored with im'ing senseless drivel on gmail.

I sometimes wonder if I have a pretty pussy. I wonder if it is esthetically pleasing to the eye. It's not like I have never seen what another one looks like, but to date I have never been compliment on my precious. In my last relationship, albeit a short one, she would never compliment it, she preferred to look at the macro of my being rather than focusing on the details. I prefer details so our conversations that turned into arguments left me feeling insecure down there. I couldn't understand why it was so hard to tell me I had a pretty girl. I myself am not fully represented by what's down there, but I want my lover past, present of future to appreciate my body and get to know all it's kinks. I don't think that is asking much, and if someone does love you, wouldn't they want to know all that is you? Especially your body?


Since I am still in the healing phase from past heart wrenching drama. I am more than insecure about myself at this point, and although i know this is a passing phase, the next girl to fall between my sheets will hopefully be an understanding one. Will she be interested in my details? Will she hopefully like to place her fingers in my behind (crosses fingers)? Is it possible for it to happen?

I am purposely forcing myself out to a few parties in the upcoming weeks, not just because i have to promote my ass off for my show, but hopefully to use that medium in order to talk to women. To meet new faces in the same old places. With the lesbian scene here in NYC, although it is a small one, I know that I haven't met everyone just yet.

As for my pussy, perhaps I can paint some pink acrylic on her one day, just to say i had a pink pussy.

Vaginal Parasites

Sometimes I wonder why I write in this blog. Why I started it at all. A rush of fears and OMG's flood my head as I ponder how much I should have revealed. Granted, this blog only focuses on a specific part of my life and doesn't encompass the entirety that is me.

I probably could have written that a little more slicker, something that falls out of the tongue a little more fluid, but for today I'll focus on a little bit of drama that is outside the sexual realm and with a little more heart.

My heart as I mention it, has been broken. I can safely say that it really wasn't broken at all. It was pulverized, dismantled, smashed, de-constructed, thrown against a wall, raped, beaten, and destroyed.

They (plural), have no names to me anymore, they are mere vaginal parasites that have thankfully found one another and in a way I am thankful for that. However since there is a link between them and my best friend, I can't fully eradicate them 100% until she wakes up and realizes what disgusting pitiful creatures they really are and eradicates them for herself.

I can't control anyone but I can control how I interact with others. However I have learned a valuable lesson throughout this entire ordeal that has been happening since December now. I have learned to let other's friends BE there friends and not interact with them fully. It sounds confusing but I am sure we have all been there. I have also learned NOT to go after someone through a friend, especially one that has been intimate with. I hate to divulge personal info about others...but this is a matter of learning from my mistakes.

My punishment was an ordeal of such heartwrenching pain, that I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. I felt alone and abandoned and discarded...but it was ok..because it wasn't "their intentions to hurt me". It was perfectly alright, because I am "too sensitive" and that i need to work on myself. Now I am not perfect, but I also don't play mind games, manipulate and deceive people. I am honest as one gets.

The mere gall of hurting someone then making them feel bad for feeling bad still goes over my head. The fact that I let it happen, that I let the vaginal parasites deceive me time and time again, that I constantly went back and tried to work things out thinking that I could better myself FOR THEM...still blows my mind.

They say you only and truly fall in love once...but for me, i fell in love back to back twice. I would have done anything, I would have packed up everything that is this life in Jersey and went anywhere. I was that captivated.

Now all i am is an empty shell, some may view that as starting over, but for me I have no idea where to start at all. I have no idea where to go. I feel like Alice from Alice in Wonderland, just searching for a way home but instead getting lost in a maze. Maybe like in the movie Labyrinth. I keep on searching out hidden corridors only to find myself stuck at the beginning.

I'm yearning to heal in the arms of a woman, but right now I don't even know if I can get close to one right now. This vagina, heart, body, soul is lifeless. If I thought I had trust issues before this, then I was naive. I don't even know if I can trust anyone anymore...let alone myself.

I know this is all part of the healing process...but what if i can't heal? What if this is it for me. What if I am doomed to forever remain single and more importantly sexless?

Perhaps this blog ended as quickly as it was started.....