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Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Just remember not everyone likes chocolate. Not everyone wants marriage. Not everyone likes anal. But it doesn't make it wrong.

So I've broken my mold! I'm currently working on my first non paranormal erotic short (yeah, I'm crossing niches...who cares!) and while doing my research and socializing I've found my subject #bdsm and the term #sexslave, really gets people worked up, good and bad! But one thing that really twitched my eye was when race played a factor. Ex: White Dom white sub/slave- little reaction, Black Dom white sub/slave-interesting, BUT white Dom black sub/slave- OH HELL NO!

Not too long ago I read a thread by Zane, who I love reading, where alot of her readers/followers became offended, enraged, and weary of the thought of a writer's  white husband's being her master in the bedroom.

Don't get me wrong, I know my history but I think when it comes to sex with our HUSBANDS race should not come into play. Without the race factor, without the labels, in the end its about the natural urge to be dominant and the natural urge to want to be dominated. Is it for everyone? NO! Shit, after reading 50 shades of grey I remember my sister telling me something along the lines of I wish a MFer would try to put me over his knee, Fuck that shit, while others were swooning over the thought.

So I'm left with this opinion:

Just remember not everyone likes chocolate. Not everyone wants marriage. Not everyone likes anal. But it doesn't make it wrong. Do not shame others on their sex life. A white husband wanting to play Dom nd Sub in the bedroom, does not make him a racist with the hopes and dreams of owning a white slave (unless he really is). Point is don't assume, don't judge, and if you want to call that man your Masta don't be ashamed. That's your mate, fuck him good and have fun doing it! If you don't...politely decline, don't make a mockery of it, and fuck anyway!

Sunday, November 2, 2014

Take it to the head. Erotic poetry.

Fresh out the shower;
I sit upon the bed.
He's licking the Dutch closed;
Cravings encircle my head.
He places the flavored cigar right between my lips;
Lays me down and makes a home between my hips.
The lighter flicks and i inhale;
Smoke fills the room with intoxicating smells.
He nuzzles his nose into my cleft;
I breath out all the exotic smoke that my lungs have left.
He works away between my knees;
With a heated desire to feed.
Again, i toke, but not with ease;
I'm choking, its potent, and its hard to breath.
I exhale but at the same time i have no relief;
My kitty is purring and he's in wrist deep.
Like a fountain, the liquid is quenching his thirst;
But not before he makes sure I come first.
The ash drops hot on my chest;
A reminder to Puff, puff, pass...smoking at its best.