Hello

My moms in the hospital. I'm sorry, I just don't really feel like blogging much anymore.

Free Your Mind!

I’m one of those people who are constantly changing their screen saver. I may have a flower, a picture of my G-dson, or a famous piece by a world renowned artist. These are a few of the artist I have in my phone. *see below* For the past month, I’ve had Frida Khalo as my cell phone screen-saver. She’s one of my favorite artists, and there's actually a great exhibit of her work in the Philadelphia Museum of Art right now. The picture I have of her is a self portrait; and a pretty famous one at that. Now I’m no art connoisseur, but I can appreciate it. I’m writing this post because this Saturday, my friend asked to use my phone, and almost fell out the car laughing at the self portrait/screen-saver of Frida Khalo. Trying to explain to her who she was, and why I had her on my phone was pointless. Trying to explain that the portrait was indeed that of a female was also pointless. I’ve given up hope of her expanding her mind culturally. If it ain’t about a website to watch free online movies, or some $200 shoes for her son…she really isn’t that into it. Oh well. To those of you who care to see a different side of me…..scroll down.My favorite is"The Kiss" by Gustav Klimt.
Enjoy!!




1940 “Autorretarto con Collre de Espinas y Colibri” Frida Khalo

1907 “The Kiss” Gustav Klimt

c. 1889 “Starry Night” Vincent van Gogh

c.1931 “The Persistence of Memory” Salvadore Dali

c. 1876-77 “The Star, or Dancer on the Stage” Edgar Degas

Feel free to link to you favorite art if you have any.

P.S. Anything can be art, if you want it to be.

Peace

The Artist, the Fireman, and The Ex…..part 3

I’m back. Exhausted, but I’m here. My weeks been pretty hectic and it doesn’t show any signs of slowing down soon. But you guys don’t want to hear any of that! Y’all want the juicy details on what went down between me, and the fireman. As you may remember from the last post, I was a little tipsy. Well not even tipsy….just nice. So with the courage juice flowing, I told F.M. that my feet were cold, and asked if I could get under the blankets, (we were already lying on the bed). He said “Of course, but not in your street clothes ;)"

No problem, I had the extra cute panty and bra set, so I stripped. A light green lace set that I copped especially for the occasion. The color looks great on my skin tone (I’m somewhere between coffee n cream’ & caramel). I don’t like to show my body off unnecessarily because there’s no reason for everyone to know what I have goin’ on, but I’m pretty confident about it. I have a nice little shape if I don’t say so myself. I’m not real heavy up top… but you know the saying…. “More than a mouthful’s wasted”.

Anyway, I let him get a look, and then I slipped under the covers, while he got undressed. And I watched…hungry for the kill! LOL! He slid into bed next to me, pulled me close and started kissing me. God! It felt so good to be held in those big strong tatted up arms. He rolled me from my side to my back, and started kissing from head to…….well I can’t say toe, cause he stopped right around my belly button; ripped my panties off, and concentrated on kissing my clit.

Now you all know I tell y’all every single damn thing, and this post won’t be an exception. So here it is…the good, and the bad. Well, for one thing, I don’t really like to get eaten out. That’s not my twist. There is only one man that I like for that job, and I haven’t seen his Puerto Rican ass in years. (He really…well remember Spanish class from high school? Well dude knew how to roll his “R’s” if you know what I mean. He really made love with his tongue, lips, teeth, because that was his twist. He loved to do it, and bringing women to pleasure got him off. No one else has ever come close, so I usually opt out when it comes to receiving.) Oh, and while I’m on this subject, I don’t mind giving, as long as I know the dick is safe, and it’s pretty. You know how some dicks just aren’t cute. Like, I inspected “The Artists" dick a few months back; and I almost gagged. I mean it was thick, but that was the only positive attribute it had. It was bumpy or mole-y and he was super hairy. And also, I don’t know if it was because we were in a place with bad lighting, but I could swear it was ashy. It just looked rough, and I decided right then and there that I could never... ever do anything with that dick. How do people feel about multi-colored dicks? You know the ones that are lighter at the head then they are at the base. I kinda like them. I know! I’m a weirdo. Haahahahaha!

Back to my romp with the F.M.

So he’s down there trying his hardest to (I don’t know…..I really just.don’t.know?) The whole time I’m like, come on and give me that dick. His eat game was, robotic at best…..bless his heart for trying. And like I said before, I really don’t like that shit anyway, so I didn’t waste any time trying to coach. Not wanting to hurt his feelings I let him try his hand for a few minutes. When he came up, and put the condom on well, it warmed Nic’s heart. I really do love nice dick, and it looked nice as hell.
As wet as I was, (and you know I was after my dick-iatus) it was still a bit of a struggle to get him all in. No worries, I like the pain….that’s the best fuckin’ part!
So he’s inside of me, and got-damn it felt good. He started off slow, asking me if I was okay in between kisses, and I’m all “Hells yeah!” I look in his eyes…he looks into mine (well as much as we could in the dim light) I smile and he smiles, then I start throwing it back because, I’m not a lazy bitch, and sometimes it’s fun to be cooperative. He needed to know that I’m a grown ass woman, in that way, and that I don’t have time to waste being treated like a fragile little doll. That’s when the real fun began. I got flipped; dragged, twisted, hair pulled, ass slapped, put on my stomach and told to close my legs (Nic’s favorite position). Ahhhhh, if only he would have had the heart to choke me into unconsciousness, LOL! (I’m serious though)

He wasn’t the best, but he has a nice stroke game, and just about everything he did felt nice. After about 20 – 25 minutes, he started to play with my clit while he was stroking from the side. I just moved his hand away. In past experiences that made me completely lose control and cum, and I was enjoying myself, (selfish, I know but whatever). Then a few minutes later, while he was hitting it from the back he started it again. I said “Stop, I don’t want to cum yet.” He was like “Shit baby, I can’t hold this any longer.” Oh! he should have never showed me any weakness. That just made me throw it back even harder. He was beatin’ it up to the point where every single stroke was hurtin’ but it felt so damn good. A few moments later he was cummin’ and being very vocal about it *that’s a plus* I didn’t get to go there though *booooooooo-nigga-booooooo!* No big deal, there’s only been like 1 ½ dudes that made me cum on a consistent basis. So I was not surprised there. Sex has always been a mental thing with me. I guess I’m just not 100% there with him.

After he came he got up to throw the condom away. When he came back to the bed, he asked me if I was okay and I said “Yeah”. 30 seconds later he was sleep. Snoring lightly. I lay there thinking about so many things, he rolled over and pulled me towards him to cuddle, and asked me again if I was okay. All I could say was “Yeah, I’m cool”. Then he asked me to stay the night…..I said that I would, and he fell back asleep.
At this point it’s around 2:45 -3am, and I’m uncomfortable and awake. I’m also still horny. I thought about going another round with him, but thinking that the results would be the same, opted to grab my panties and roll. After a 10 minute drive, I was in my house. I showered, brushed my teeth, crawled into bed, and as soon as I found the perfect spot on my bed my cell starts to go beep beep beep. He’s texting me talking bout’ “I thought you said you would spend the night with me?”

Well that’s it for today. Look for part 4 sometime early next week, to see how the F.M.’s been acting since I let him hit. And new developments involving “The Artist” That nigga really lost his mind.


Peace

The Artist, The Fireman, and The Ex....pt. 2

Yeah, the girl Nic has returned. I had to take a little break from blogging to go on my dick-iatus, lol, but I finally have something to report….so I’m back! Sorry it took so long, but I made up my mind not to type anything on blogger until I had something real to talk about. Namely…new dick! (Apologies to anyone who stumbled upon my little blog looking for political insights or quirky social events stories. I’m a self-centered bitch! lol!)

Okay let me first start off by letting y’all know that I didn’t even get any until this weekend March 2nd, in the wee hours of the morning. Last weekend, I punked out, and didn’t call “The Fireman” until I was sure he was safely at work, and I was far away on the other side of the city. I guess, I bitched up for a number of reasons, not just the one listed on my last blog post……….18 years ago ha-ha.

As my abstinence clock was winding down, I started to think about my ex…a lot. I was also worried about how “The Artist” would take it, if I decided to tell him. It may seem weird, but we tell each other everything.

So anyway, on to the details of this weekend. Friday, I came home, and was just exhausted from work. I decided to crash, and pull myself together the next day. Unfortunately I think my nerves got the best of me, because I didn’t get any real good sleep until about 4 or 5 in the morning. Saturday afternoon... it was
All-Systems-Go. I got up, washed my hair in the shower, and plotted on getting the dick, ... without asking for the dick, ... after being scared of the dick for an unreasonable amount of time.

I thought that my Saturday was going to be all planned out. It wasn’t! It ended up being really scattered. Basically I almost punked out AGAIN! I had spoken to “The Artist” Friday, and he was supposed to be out of town in Baltimore doing some producing. Y’all know how I feel about that shit, but I was like shiiiiit, he’ll be one less thing to worry about. “The Fireman” called around 6 and we started up a casual conversation. We decided to go out to get something to eat. So I drove up to his place (about 5 minutes away from my house) and from there we took his car. He let me drive, which is nothing unusual, but it just helped put me at ease for some strange reason. I guess because I felt like I was in control of something. All night long he was telling me how pretty I was and that he loved my hair curly.

Truth is, he’s the only reason I wear my hair that way.

The food was good but I really couldn’t eat a lot. Nerves again! I drove his car back to his place. The conversation was cool until we hit his block. I parked up; he started in again on why I had never given him a chance before, in a relationship or anything else. He asked me what I was scared of and all I could say was,

“I don’t know.”

He just laughs and says, “Well you have to know something Nic.” At this point I’m almost shaking. This is when he asks…point blank, “Why don’t you just let me bite it, and we can see where things go from there.”

Know what I said? “Naw I’m cool.”

Yes, I punked out again. After that…he seemed understandably frustrated. So I just got out and let him walk me over to my car. No long hug, no kiss. I just got in the car and drove away with my angry clitoris. I was not even two blocks away before I was calling my ex, Greg. We talked for a little while. I just needed the familiarity. In my heart I knew that I shouldn’t go back to that dick so after about 15 minutes of a surprisingly good conversation, I got off the phone with him and called “The Artist”. I was mad at myself for leaving F.M. like that but figured that I could console myself with the voice of someone who puts little to no sexual pressure on me, partly because I’m in no way attracted to his ass (and he knows it), and partly due to the fact that I’m in complete control of most aspects in our relationship/association.

When I asked him how Baltimore was, he said that he didn’t even go. He was at the studio, writing or some shit. I told him I’d be through in a few minutes. By the time I got down there (and it was maybe an 8 minute drive) my ass was sore from kicking myself. I was so pissed about throwing away another opportunity to be with the F.M. that I could barely think straight. So after 5 minutes of listening to T.A. complain about the music industry and his shady ass partners who left him in Philly I told him that I had to go. I made up an excuse about having to go get something for my mom to eat, which he didn’t seem to be buying, because it was close to 12 midnight, and left his pitiful looking ass right where I found him. I called the F.M. and told him that I’d be back over shortly.

When I got there he was playing some crazy war game called Call of Duty4. FYI, one of the most realistically violent video games in terms of war scenarios. Anyway we chilled for a minute; he offered me something to drink which I swallowed quickly and happily (vodka ain’t usually my drink, but whatev’s). We watched a little TV, played a few hands of black jack and when I was sufficiently loosened up (tipsy) I let nature take it’s long over due course.

For details on how the “F” went down, come back tomorrow, I’m too tired to type anymore.


Thanks for being patient, love y'all (yeah a girls a little less aggi after she gets some)
Peace

The Fireman

I can't wait any longer! I'm going to sleep with the Fireman this Saturday, if I don’t punk out, ha-ha! Why am I so nervous? I don’t know. Maybe it’s because every time he hugs me with those big strong arms and pulls me to his chest, I imagine him fucking the shit out of me, and I’m scared that he’ll just completely turn me out and have me screaming all types of crazy shit. Scared and hopeful, but mostly scared, because I don’t want to become dickmotized. No, I'm still not sure if I want to be in a relationship with him or the artist. I really don't care to think about all at that at this point of my life. It's been a long time, and I deserve some sexual satisfaction (not that the toys haven't been fun). All I care about right now is getting’ some, and somehow maintaining the essence and composure of Nic......whatever the hell that may be. Of course we'll use protection, and I'll give y'all the details as soon as I can.


Peace,

Oh, So You're Just Gonna' Ride That Out Huh ?!?!?!?!

Okay. This is gonna' be one of those post where I definitely won't name names. Here we go. So I was talking to this friend/friend through association* of mine the other day. We were on the phone not talking about anything in particular, when she asked me to hold on so that she could go to the bathroom. I did, and she was back in a few minutes. We started jibber-jabbering again, and then she said... "Not trying to gross you out or anything, but just now, when I went to wipe myself...I felt a bump." So, it's implied that it's down there right? Dewwww! That's "dang" & "ewwww" put together for those of you who don't know. She went on to say that when she went to wipe herself (and yeah she's grown, so this wasn't a weird diaper rash thing) it hurt. So she went investigating with her fingers, and that's when she felt the bump. I asked her if this bump was like a swollen lump, or if it was like a pimple coming to head. It was the latter. She went on to ask me what I thought it might be. At that point, I'm in my head like..."that don't sound good boo-boo. You might need more than Monistat 7!" For her ears I just said, "I think that you need to go to the doctors to get that checked out immediately”. I said this, because it sounded like the symptoms of an STD, and in that case she would be better off asking a doctor, because I can’t help her there. She was quiet. I asked her if she had been having unprotected sex whit her baby's father, and she said "no". Whateva honey! You ain't got to lie. I know she's been letting his whore ass hit it raw. The only reason she told me “no”, is because she knows I don't like him. And the only reason I don't like him is because she lets me know all of the dirt he's doing. Namely the other women. So I guess she was feeling a little salty, because shortly thereafter, she changed the subject, like she always does, whenever someone starts talking shit about her no good baby's daddy. So I let the conversation change.


And for any of you that are curious, yes this is the "Toni Childs" whose been spoken about in post past. So y'all know I care...but not that much, and sometimes not at all. Yeah, after our last falling out, we never got back to where we were. So that means that she no longer gets the perks of having a truly devoted best friend, like me.


So I let a day pass. We're talking on the phone again, and I ask her how everything's going. "with that situation"? She's all like, "What situation?" At this point in my head I'm like "How many situations you got?" But for her ears I just say in my low voice....,"the bump.....is it still there?" She said that it was still there, and that nothing had changed. This prompted me to bring up going to the doctors AGAIN!! And do you know what she said?!?!?!?! Do you know what the heck she had the nerve to say?!?!??!!!!!!! "Well I have an appointment with 'Baby Childs' (her son) on the 8th."


I respond “OF NEXT MONTH?!?!?!” and her answer was a nonchalant “yes”.That's 3 weeks away. So of course, I'm confused and frustrated with her. I try to stay calm, because I don't want to scare her, but I still press the issue of her going to the doctors before then, telling her that she might want to make an appointment with her gyn., or even to the free clinic. Stressing that she had to do something….and sooner rather than later. She just responded by telling me she had to get off the phone. Had to get back to work, and got off the phone with me.


So.....you're just gonna’ sit on THAT for close to a month huh? Wow! I'm not too surprised. In her heart, she probably thinks it's going to be bad news (like I do). She doesn't like to deal with shit head on, if it has anything to do with her man/baby daddy. Even though this dead beat does nothing but make her feel small, tell her she isn't on his level, take her money (including her $3000.00 income tax return (which is rightfully hers since he does nothing for or with the child), takes her car, roof her cell phone, constantly get caught dealing with other women, can never explain where the last condom went to, and IMHO makes way to many verbal observations about her cuter friends… right in front of her face. Yeah he's a real winner.Back in the day I wasted a lot of time, trying to get her to see that she's worth so much more, then to have to deal with that kinda shit, but he's who she's smitten with, so I'm out of it.


I couldn't just ride that out though.

Maybe I'm trippin'!



Peace

Late Night Texts...Fuck Effort!

Am I the only one who hates text messaging?

Sunday morning at around 2:30am I get a text from my Ex-boyfriend Greg, simply stating, "R u up? I wanna c u." Now this pissed me of for a number of reasons.

Reason # 1. This is a booty call, and I should no longer be in his "booty call rolodex". Why?....For the newer readers, here's a quick recap of our relationship. We met, fell in love, went through serious baby mama drama with his ex, broke up, got back together, repeat x2, lost the ability to communicate with each other, broke up but slept together until I got my mind right and moved on to better things.

Now, I've seen him a few times since the last time we slept together, but my feelings for him (and I’ll admit, sometimes I think there's still something there) are just about gone. The only reason I haven't gotten him completely out of my system is that I haven’t slept with anyone else yet. (It's like that sometimes). Anyway back to the text.

Reason # 2. for why this text pissed me off...Didn't I just tell his raggedy ass last time we spoke/text that I fuggin' hate the fact that he acts like the only way he can communicate with me is through text messaging. Honest to god that was the major theme of the last few conversations we've had (during the time we were together, and afterwards). I mean I don't mind if it's used as a secondary form of communication, but that's all I ever get from him. If you want to keep in touch, fine....we can do that, but in my eyes, solitary text messaging is by far the most half assed way of communicating. It’s as if the person can't even muster up the balls to pick up the phone, DIAL, and say something (even if it's "Can I get some ass?") LOL!!!!!!! Shit, I'd be just fine in life if I never heard anything from him again.


Reason # 3. When we stopped sleeping with each other, having casual sex....didn't that imply that we STOP SLEEPING WITH EACH OTHER!!!! Translation.... no more booty calls.


Reason # 4, I just asked him a few months ago if he was dating someone seriously, and he said "yes" ! Didn't I already tell his whore ass that I'm in no way interested in being a home-wrecker, and especially with his ass!?!?!?!? God! He's my ex for a reason! Anyway, the whole thing just irked me.

New age communication = Fuck effort!

Do you agree? Yes ~ No.....tell me why!