To be held and touched.

Photo by Claudia Soraya on Unsplash

Now…I am starving.

I don't hug anymore, in fact, I am afraid of them. I secretly fantasize more about hugs and affection than I do of sex.

Skin hunger is a thing…


My thoughts on the objectification of the black man and his cock.

Image by William Adams from Pixabay

Okay….

What's the deal with the objectification of Black men?

No one seems to write about why, although almost everyone reads and writes about black bull obsession or whatnot.

I have been wanting to write about this for a while now. But kept putting it off for fear of upsetting ‘people’.

I have read enough erotica about especially wanting to fuck black men, their huge cocks, and the whole black bull fetish. It seems to be on the top five things on the sex bucket list.

Don’t get…


Telling him about my writing was the last bit.

Photo by Leighann Blackwood on Unsplash

I write Erotica…

I write Marriage, Relationships, Love and Life.

I am a cheater, I have a pseudonym…

Writing makes me free…I was having a blast writing about my adulterous escapades, cheating, the adrenaline rush, and the sexual adventures.

Until…I fell in love.

I met this man at my worst, and he lifted me up. It was all too good…still is, and I am still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Meanwhile, there was this conflict inside me…So, should I tell him about my writing? Or not?

Would…


50 WORDS

Thrifty Words 50 #35: Introverted

Photo by Jonathan Cooper on Unsplash

People…Social gatherings, family functions.
Forced socializing, obligations…
I whither, withdraw.

Anti Social…
I bloom with a handful, people of my choice…
The Anti-Social Club.

I am good with you…just you, don't need more.

Introvert, For me…lockdown didn't hurt,
Conversing with myself came naturally…
Often Alone…Seldom lonely.

I’m an Introvert.

I never prefer going to social events, especially the larger fancy ones. The peer pressure, the social hoopla, and air-kissing…been there, done that. It does nothing for me and leaves me feeling rather lost and empty. I would rather hang with my handful of weirdos, the like-minded anti-socials, the ones who…


I am a Coward, And I accept it.

Photo by Yogendra Singh from Pexels

Suspended, that is how my heart feels…Dangling, teetering…unstable.

Someone once said, “Love is just love”.

I couldn't agree more.

It doesn't have to be something more. It doesn't have to have a result. It can just be love…

But society ingrains it in us. It’s engraved in our system, into the pillars of the framework we are born in…
— love leads to marriage,
— marriage is the ultimate goal,
— kids and family are everything,
— commitment is absolutely imperative.

And all of us…like a herd. We follow…we do what everyone does. We do what society expects us to…


I thought it wasn’t possible but he made me squirt repeatedly,

Photo by Ava Sol on Unsplash

— Purple Rain by Prince.

This song was playing as I rode…I was on top, riding his cock like there was no tomorrow. He looked at me with an expression that was a mix of euphoria, pleasure, desire, and pain. …


Thank you Jennifer M. Wilson for sharing this writing space with me.

Sex, Adultery.

I usually write about sex, cheating, my sexual escapades — or sexcapades as I call them. The different ways and strategies I use to find sex, intimacy, touch, and hugs… have been my writing journey so far. I also write about marriage, my marriage…I would hate to generalize, although I firmly believe there are innumerable more like me out here.

But things have changed a bit for me this year…. But I met someone new, on my neverending pursuit for sex, love et al. …


Love teaches it’s okay to be a taker as well.

Sketch by Author

I have always been the giver…

My dad told me this about relationships…

I was 17 when he told me this, and to be honest…I didn’t really understand what he meant. I might have just skimmed the surface then…but now I am 41. …


And My Pussy Too

Image by Diego Monserrat Monserrat from Pixabay

I am horny…again.

It's a frikkin perennial state nowadays…wait, no not nowadays, it has always been the case.

I had a meet yesterday, and a couple of days before that as well. It's all a blur. Braindead and well shagged, I have been called by a friend.

Why am I writing now? I will tell you why…I needed my favorite clit sucker toy, but it's charging. So here I am writing instead…Writing sex is the next best thing, sometimes actually it's the best thing. Even better than masturbating. …

Wistful writer

Romantic, reader, emotional fool, artist, life has taught me to let go, what I am isn’t what I chose to be, it's what life made me. wistfulwriter@writeme.com

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