I'm Still Traumatized...

My Tuesday ended much better thank you very much.

Never mind I was trapped at work until eleven.

And never mind it was so damn humid and oh Engineering decided to cut the AC for an hour so they could fix on some things. Yeah a bitch was sweating like a runaway slave.

And we all know what heat does to Black people.

So I was sweaty, hot, miserable, and not to mention I had a fucking diaper on. So I was not all ice cream and giggles. It was “Look give me your credit card, get these keys and get the fuck out my face! No I don’t give a damn about you getting a “Georgetown View”, you get whatever view the computer selected now scram…bitch!”

The fiancé was such a sweetheart though. I called him whining because that’s one thing I hate to be is hot, sweating, and on my monthly, I just feel so dirty and I am OCD when it comes to cleanliness, I take about two or three showers a day, so he brought me my toiletries, my favorite soap *Hello Kitty Body Wash in Fruit Punch*, another pair on panties and some pants *but not a shirt* and I ducked away to take a shower. Hell yeah I was on the clock too. And luckily I keep an extra shirt in my locker. So what it was wrinkled as fuck, I felt much better after taking a shower.

I never understood the people who complain about a handicapped accessible room, which is bigger but it lacks a bathtub, who the fuck takes a bath in a hotel? Me, I’m like, so you mean I can sit down while I’m taking a shower? Pretend like it’s a mini sauna in that piece? Shit…sign me up *lol*

Once I got some food in my system, T I can’t do that “one meal a day” shit like you do, I would go mad with hunger, I was sooo straight. I did have to fight the “itis” though.

Honey had some very interesting questions on her blog and rather than storm her comment boxes with an obnoxiously long reply, I decided to answer them on my obnoxiously long blog *lol*

Honey asked: Have you ever had a sexual experience when you weren't into it cause you were thinking of someone else (and I don’t' mean celebrity) what did you do you think that the motion matters (stroke) or the length.....

^Yeah I lifted it directly from your page, Honey

OMG that is a fucking story and a half. And see some men wonder why they are sent to the “He Don’t Count” shelf and we cringe when we spot them out in public.

Now I will admit I am a highly sexual person. I love sex and dammit it doesn’t take much to get me off. Nigga could tweak my nipple the right way and I’ll have to go change the panties. And needless to say, I have more than one orgasm when I have sex, so if nothing else, I gets mines *lol*. This also sucks because I will get mine but it will give the guy the illusion that they “did something” when in reality, nigga you ain’t do shit. I had to daydream and pretend!

So there’s this one cat and his ass will remain fucking nameless, wack ass, and I meant brother had it going on. I was in my “Brown Skinned Nigga” stage and he was as brown as they come, body nice and cut, teeth gleaming, hair always groomed, dressed well. He was just a little pretty nigga. And I had to have that ass. It was lust at first sight.

But I knew what type of nigga he was, the type that loves for women to sweat him and be all over him, let him be “the man” and shit, and you know I ain’t on that shit, so I played my cards right. You know charmed his ass nice and good but not sweating him, playing the role like “nigga you ain’t shit, you just aight” *a blow to the ego* and generally just ignoring him, even though I was digging him. I read him kind of well so before I know it, he was chasing after me, you know that whole “challenge” shit really got to him.

We would talk on the phone and of course we would have the whole “girl do you know what I will do to you I’ll have you climbing the walls” conversation, I’m yawning like put up or shut up my nigga and he’s still insisting that he bangs backs out, which of course due to the oh so infamous “rumors” he had done to quite a few girls so I was a little curious on this.

I should have slapped the shit out of whoever spoke such vicious lies about this nigga. In fact I wouldn’t be surprised if he spread the shit himself. Women need to stop lying to these damn men to make them feel better because then they walk around with a false sense of how their dicks are.

Bitches probably put on the performance of a lifetime too. When Harry met Sally indeed. Bitches need an Oscar for the performances they put on.

So after weeks of playing around with him, I decided to just gone head and give him some.

I should’ve slapped the shit out of my coochie while I was at for being so damn thirsty.

It started off nicely enough. He came over, we’re “watching a movie” *as that’s why I called him over, I guess that’s an universal line as well, “umm why don’t you come over? We can watch a movie or something…” lol*, he suggests the good old “back massage” *another universal line* that of course requires no shirt because he has massage oil *nigga came prepared, no baby oil over here *lol*

Nice strong hands, almost put me to sleep.

A fantastic kisser. He could bottle those lips up and sell them. So you know drawls all wet and shit because I love a great kisser. I’m feeling on the package and I’m like “Thank GAWD!!!” Ok the rumors are on point. He is working with a lil’ something something.

And that’s when shit falls apart.

So I hurry up and jump out the rest of my clothes, damn near knocked over my lamp trying to fumble with my tight ass jeans. It was a struggle for me to slide my ass in those bad boys so I knew it would be a struggle to get out them bitches. He’s already naked. Niggas are like Houdini when it comes to having sex, just slide out them clothes like magic.

So we’re kissing still, he playing with the nipples, with Ms. Kitty, just got me squirming.

And then…nothing.

I can’t really describe the feeling but it felt like nothing. I felt it slide it….but ummm nothing. No fireworks, nothing. A slight tingle but even Ms. Kitty was like, “What the fuck is this shit?” It just didn’t feel good whatever the feeling was. So me, I’m like fuck this, I’m going to get mine one way or another, so I tried to ease him so I could get on top. He had the nerve to tell me to stop squirming! He did not want me to move at all. No hip thrusting, nothing. Now I’m assuming he’s having a damn good time because he’s moaning, whispering shit in my ear, just have tuned me the fuck out. I’m silent as fuck.

The “new” me would have been like “OH HELL NAW….Nigga get the fuck off of me” threw his clothes at him and tossed him out on his ass. The “old” me was much nicer, I’m like “well I’m going to make due with what I got”. So since I'm obviously not squirm in ecstasy, I had to conjure up some images. I began to think about SIGMA's tongue and the dick action he be throwing down, and boy oh boy could that man put in some work. He should be teaching classes. I’m thinking so much about his ass, Ms. Kitty began to wake up out of her nap and began reacting because she remembers all too well our encounters with SIGMA so she's reacting like SIGMA is laying the smack down on her ass.

So my hips start moving and he’s telling me not to do that but fuck him, I’m going to go for mine. Bucked his ass right into an orgasm…but not before I got mine *lol*

Of course he’s breathing hard and sweating, you know “oh you worked me out blah blah blah” so I drop the hint that he has to go because I have class in the morning. I walk him to the door and he asks when he can see me again. I told him everyday…in our 2 pm class and slam the fucking door.

Ok so not much has changed over the years *lol*

And fuck that shit, nigga we ain’t do shit. Yeah I began the pep talk to myself to convince myself we didn’t fuck so it would sound believable. That shit was just beyond wack. It’s not like sex is rocket science. It’s not hard to learn.

But alas our night time romp got out, I don’t know what the fuck he told people but a nice amount of niggas began to flock toward me, of course getting ignored, he probably told them I gave him head or some shit. Of course, me, I’m like “I didn’t fuck that nigga, he’s lying on his dick” but I didn’t sound too convincing, I guess, my anger kept shining through. Of course ICEE and FH knew because I had to do the typical "female" phone call afterwards to grip about it. You know we have to do that whenever we get some new dick in our life. That's just mandatory. FH chalked it up to a “sticky thigh” and ICEE was surprised, she heard the rumors as well. I avoided that nigga the rest of the semester although he took to waiting for me after class, popping up at the library and my room on occasion only to have the door slammed in his face. I moved in with ICEE second semester and did not update my registry on the school’s directory. Old wack ass nigga.

Damn shame I had to think of another dick in order to get off. Had to trick Ms. Kitty into thinking she was getting the good shit.

And that’s why the motion is much better than the length. Length doesn’t mean shit if the motion is off. A Vienna sausage can work it like a Polish if he knows how to move. In fact that shit is false advertising like a mug. I should have called BBB on his ass for lying about the damn product at hand. I wuz robbed! No wonder the chick he hooked up with later in the year walked around with a damn attitude. She got trapped by the rumors and then stuck *lol*. I hope she invested in a toy or something. Why is it that men who can't fuck worth a damn usually have a fantastic mouth? Could that translate down to the lower region? How the fuck are you going to work on the mouth and not the package? It's only so much head I want before I'm ready to get to business, what you thought the mouth was going to distract me? I secretly think men whose mouth is fantastic knows they ain't working with shit downstairs and uses their oral skills to distract you from the real thing. FALSE ADVERTISING men! FALSE ADVERTISING!

And that’s just one of my worst sexual experience.