insidesuzyssoul











{August 30, 2011}   The Joy of Threesomes

Two female, one male, oral threesome sex posit...

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Dexter talks about the ups and downs and complications of every man’s fantasy:  a threesome with two women.

I can’t believe this is happening.
I have two sexy women sucking on my dick. This is the kind of thing most men fantasize about but right now this is my reality.
I previously had a threesome a while back in my late teens, nineteen, I think to be exact, with two little cuties; one brunette, the other blonde.
Amanda was the brunette; we had slept with each other a few times in the past so it wasn’t like she had anything I hadn’t seen.
She was very much into me but she was aware that I wasn’t the type to be settling down with, as I was accustomed to having more than just one woman in my life. If it were up to her she would have had me to herself but she was more than willing to share me rather than not have me at all.
Emma was the blonde. I’ve always had a preference for dark haired women but wouldn’t turn down a cute blonde if she came my way ,let’s just say I wouldn’t chase them.
Was Emma really attracted to me? To be honest I’m not sure. I think she was more attracted to my street credibility rather than my looks.
Around my area I was known as a ‘Lover man/Gangster’. The first part I can understand as I was fortunate enough to have had plenty girls in my time, especially around this area but as for the gangster tag I had attained?  I’m not sure how that came about. I wasn’t someone to be taken lightly by anyone thinking to oppose me but I was hardly a gun-toting gangster. But who am I to dispute the title as the reputation I had struck fear into those I didn’t like and warned off potential future enemies.
As for that encounter with Amanda and Emma, let’s just say the idea, vision, notion, whatever you want to call it, was better than the real thing.
I had never been so excited and nervous at the same time. I had had plenty of girls but never two at the same time before.
Despite my previous confidence in most situations, I was full of anxiety. Would I be able to satisfy two girls?
Well, time to find out!
We were in Amanda’s bedroom when it all began.

 Now before I go any further, I have to say that I truly believe that in order to have a successful threesome, the two women involved should be bi-sexual or at least bi-curious. I now know this but unfortunately didn’t know it at the time. Hindsight is a useless thing isn’t it?

Lets just say it was hardly a threesome, more like “Let’s run a train* on Dexter” as both girls were apprehensive to interact with each other sexually. I had seen them kiss each other a few days previously; that was how they had got me to agree to this in the first place.
It started with Amanda sitting on my face and Emma giving me head. Damn, that was fun! I had only just discovered the joys of eating pussy. As a young black male of Jamaican heritage, you’re taught from an early age that eating pussy is something that real men don’t do, so I had put it off for ages. Man, do I regret that!
Anyway it was all going well at this stage, time for the penetration. I strapped on a condom then pounded Amanda from behind. Every now and then I’d take a look at Emma, I could she her eyes beaming full of anticipation. It was clear that she wanted her turn sooner rather than later and I was more than willing to give it to her.
After giving Amanda a nice pounding, it was time for Emma. I strapped on another condom, kissed her then laid her on her back. As I entered her, she let out a slight yelp. I’m not sure if she had had a dick as big as mine up till that point. I threw her legs over my shoulders and went to work. I love to penetrate deep but I could see that she was having a hard time taking my size so I resorted to shallow strokes. She loved that.
As she grew in confidence and became more comfortable, I could feel her pussy loosen up and that’s when I went for the kill. Here’s my chance to get maximum pleasure and do what I do best: penetrate deep.
She was being pounded and loving it too but at the same time I could feel some kind of tension. I looked at Amanda and her facial expression wasn’t excitement like Emma had exhibited watching us, it was jealously!
She tried to hide it with a nervous smile but I could see straight through it.

Do I stop out of consideration or continue? I’m so close to climax and Emma is enjoying herself, why should I stop? We don’t have any emotional attachments… Fuck it! I’m close to cumming and I don’t want this to end any time soon.

As I thrust I could see the bliss on Emma’s face, she was now begging me to cum so I obliged. Damn, that felt good! Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. I was just getting warmed up. Round two was just around the corner.
 I suggested that the two girls do a little something while I recovered but only if they were up for it. I thought Amanda might have said no but hoped that the jealousy that I had detected earlier had passed.
Both girls shrugged their shoulders as if to imply yes, then leaned forward to kiss each other. This was the kind of thing I had only seen in porn videos. I had always wondered what it would be like to see it for real. Now it was really happening right before my eyes.  
They kissed just like they had done in the park a few days earlier, then Emma began to kiss Amanda’s neck then slowly make her way down to her breasts.
The look on Amanda’s face wasn’t bliss, maybe she was just nervous?  I wish! That wasn’t bliss. That look was pure jealously and resentment.
It was clear from that point that she had regretted ever putting the idea forward, but she couldn’t blame either me or Emma as it was a situation of her own making.
Emma stopped kissing as she could sense Amanda’s unease. Now that was what I call an uncomfortable silence. What happens next?
By this time my dick had recovered. I thought maybe I should start round two but quickly realised that would only make matters worse so I said something real lame like,
 “Maybe we should get dressed before Amanda’s mum comes home?”
fully knowing that she wasn’t going to return for sometime. I had to say something to ease the tension in that room.
At that point in my life I used to carry a pager. It went off. Thank God, I thought. It was my best friend. The message wasn’t at all urgent but I pretended that it was so I could make a quick exit.
As I walked down the road, I thought back to the encounter. I tried to remember just the good parts but somehow the bad out-weighed the good.
Seems that kiss was a smoke-screen, as it was clear that these two girls weren’t at all bisexual.  Maybe I was  being harsh, maybe they were bi-curious but just uncomfortable to be doing it with each other as they were very good friends. I have to admit that I’d feel funny being stark naked in front of my best friend.
We were only nineteen years of age and this was the first experience of a threesome for all of us. Maybe we could try again? No such luck, as the experience seemed to put a dampener on Amanda and Emma’s friendship for good.
That was never my intention and I’m sure it wasn’t Amanda’s either. I guess being at that age they weren’t mature enough to realise that it was nothing more than what it was: just sex.  A single sexual encounter shouldn’t come between friends especially if all involved were up for it.

Back to the present, this gal Stacey took ages to reach Suzy’s apartment. In all honesty I didn’t think she was going to show up.
It must have been after midnight and she still was on the other side of the river.
It was damn near one am before she actually reached our neck of the woods. Have to say I had some serious butterflies fluttering around in my stomach at this point.
Now almost twenty seven, it had been a while since my last piece of three way action.
How was this going to pan out? Not in the way I’d imagined.
As Stacey parked her car outside, Suzy stepped outside to greet her. This was finally going to happen, no time for bullshit now.
As she stepped through the door I have to admit she wasn’t what I’d expected. Maybe it’s because she hadn’t really made an effort with her appearance.
Didn’t really matter as I knew Suzy would have her naked sooner rather than later.
Stacey was a caramel skin black girl with a size sixteen figure, very cute facial features.
Big breasts with a classic big ass, just the way we both like them, lets just say she was a diamond in the rough.
Suzy went off to the kitchen to fetch some tea. Stacey and I engaged in some small talk.
By this time all initial nerves had totally disappeared. I was beginning to enjoy this encounter This time around; I was dealing with two grown women and not two insecure teenagers.
Suzy came back with the tea and we all chatted for a bit. It wasn’t long before Suzy’s hands began to wander all over our ‘victim’s’ body.
Stacey wasn’t shy at all and returned the favour with vigour to say the least. Damn, she was aggressive!
I know that Suzy likes to be the aggressor when it comes to women but Stacey had other plans it seemed.
At this point I could feel my dick swelling up, to the ladies surprise as well as my own. I stripped naked and made my way over to the bed where they were playing.
Not sure what came over me, I was as horny as fuck!
Suzy had made Stacey aware that I could be a slow starter as I was often shy in these situations. They both couldn’t believe I was the first person to get stark naked but were clearly delighted.
They were very happy to see my manhood in its full glory. I had some very naughty things in mind and this was the time to act them out.
To begin with it was Suzy and I going down on Stacey. She enjoyed that.
It was pretty clear that although she enjoyed oral she was more of a penetration gal,  that was when things would get interesting.
At this point in time I had yet to purchase Suzy’s strap on that she now loves so much! I wasn’t totally sure if Suzy was cool with me fucking another woman.
She had told me earlier she was cool with that but sometimes people say things they don’t mean.
I couldn’t help but think that way, especially after my other encounter with the two teenagers so many years ago.
I had a lot more to lose if this fucked up. Amanda was merely a fuck buddy for want of a better word; Suzy on the other hand was my partner who I had fallen for. I’d be damned if a moment of horny madness was going to fuck up the best relationship I’d ever had.
At this point Stacey had begun to interact with me a lot more. She was bi -sexual after all.
She wanted dick bad! My dick was rock hard.
Before I knew it both women were sucking on my dick. This was unreal!
Even though we had planned this for the past week or so, it seemed so surreal.
To have two sexually aggressive women not fighting but sharing my dick was absolute bliss. It didn’t get much better than this.
Despite the amazing visual, I have to say that Stacey’s dick sucking was quite rough. I’m not a fan of teeth grating.
How do you tell someone you’ve just met that their skills are not up to par?
I tried to concentrate on the incredible visual and not the actual feeling. Suzy’s skills seriously compensated for the inept attempt made by Stacey.
Stacey was on all fours. Suzy went behind her and went to work with her hands.
At this point I knew that Stacey would want to be fucked. What would happen when that time came around? I didn’t need to worry. I wasn’t aware that Suzy had four fingers inside her. Stacey was blissful.
With almost a whole hand inside her and a dick in her mouth she made muffled groaning sounds.
I was getting turned on by the look on Stacey’s face but what happened next was something you couldn’t make up.
As Suzy pulled her hand out of Stacey I saw red, her hand was covered in blood.
Not just a little blood, lots of it. I was stunned.
It was hard to believe that this much blood could come out of her with no pain involved. She appeared to be in total bliss and her period wasn’t supposed to be due for quite some time, that’s why we had planned that particular date.
Suzy looked concerned. Stacey must have seen the look on my face because she suddenly turned around. Suzy had already wiped the blood off on a towel before Stacey could see the full extent of the situation.
As Suzy told her, I thought she’d be upset, but to my surprise she seemed embarrassed. She looked mortified.
She kept apologising, for what I’m not sure. At this point we all knew that the prospect of her getting some dick had gone right out of the window.
We all went to the bathroom so she could clean up. As she bathed she seemed to be amazed by the way Suzy and I communicated so openly. She kept telling us how special we were. We should have seen the signs by this point.
She dried herself with a towel and got dressed. We assumed that she’d have another cup of tea before she hit the road.
That wasn’t to be the case. It was around half past three in the morning at this point.
As soon as she had finished her tea she made a move on Suzy again. We were amazed by her gusto and appetite for sex. We seriously thought we’d found a gem.
She took her clothes off and went at it. I quickly joined in.
Lots of sucking and licking was going on. As she was aware that she couldn’t have any dick she was willing to sit back and watch the two of us fuck.
To be honest, she insisted we fuck. She wanted to witness first hand what she would be getting next time we linked up. She loved watching the smooth wave motion of my arse. She was licking her lips with anticipation at our next meet. As far as she was concerned she’d be getting hard cock as well as a strap on next time around.
I pulled out and came on Suzy’s stomach. Boy did Stacey like that! She began to rub my spunk into Suzy’s stomach like it was lotion. Damn, we had got a freak on our hands here!
Time was moving on swiftly, I looked at my phone display. It was damn near half five in the morning and I had work that same day. .
At this point she had got dressed again, we assumed she’d be on her way in the next twenty minutes, surely? Wrong again! This girl was like the Duracell bunny!
She got undressed again and went to work on Suzy.  I didn’t even attempt to get involved this time around. I was too tired.
Believe it or not, she didn’t leave till after seven in the morning. We should have kicked her out but I guess we didn’t want her to think we were lightweight or being ungracious hosts.
Wasn’t long before Suzy and I fell asleep, but to our surprise this girl gave us a call about an hour later to tell us what a great time she had had.
Bloody hell! Surely she could have waited until later?

The week that followed was an eye-opener. She bombarded us with text messages and phone calls. Initially I didn’t see a problem with it. As far as I was concerned we had found a regular freak that would come running anytime we called her.
You ask any couple on scene and they will tell you that that’s what they are looking for: a regular single bi female playmate. I’d say ninety five percent will never find that on scene, they can only dream about it.
We had found a real Unicorn and I didn’t want to scare her off, so I humoured her phone calls.
Suzy became irritated. She wasn’t impressed with another woman ringing her man’s mobile phone as frequently as Stacey did.  At first I couldn’t see her point. She was no threat to our relationship at all as far I as was concerned. She was nothing more than a fuck buddy, what was the big deal? As days went by and the phone calls became more frequent, reality hit me.
 She had more than admiration for the relationship Suzy and I shared, she wanted to be a part of it.
She was well aware she couldn’t have a one on one relationship with either one of us so she thought she’d plonk herself squarely in the middle. I love women, but not that much! I’d be damned if this woman was going to demand the same emotional attention and commitment from me that I provided for Suzy. That wasn’t part of the deal. If she needed a boyfriend she’d have to go elsewhere. We were prepared to give her good sex and conversation but that was it. We didn’t have anything more to offer her, or any other single bi gal that came our way.
She asked to meet us on Christmas Eve; my answer was a blunt NO! She got the message at that point.

She didn’t call back for ages. Shame really, as we did like her, but her emotional demands were far too excessive for the likes of us.
She called me quite sometime later, must have been a good five months later. She was well aware that she had to cool it with the phone calls.
We didn’t talk sex at all. I wouldn’t allow the conversation to go that route. By then, Suzy and I had made up our minds that we wouldn’t be meeting her again.
We spoke about life in general before I cut the conversation off completely. No more than two minutes after I had terminated our chat, she sent a text message:
 Damn you’re sexy. Whenever the two of you want round two just call and I’ll come running!
If only she knew we’d never call.

* ‘run a train’ = gang bang, many people taking turns in having sex with one person.




November 10th
Mood:  amused

Well, our first meet didn’t exactly turn out the way we anticipated! Don’t know whether it was a mistake to agree to meet or not. I think if anything, we met out of curiosity, as it was our first meeting as a couple.
I suppose, if I’m honest, I had no intention of playing with Mr Catch-up. He was far too hairy for me and brown (Asian), not black which doesn’t really do it for me. His lady, well she was a lovely person, but just didn’t ring my bell, if you know what I mean .The chemistry just wasn’t there for me, nor for Dexter. I must admit that I inwardly raised a few eyebrows at the lady’s stories, they were quite outrageous and it was hard to look at her and imagine her in those situations. A more unlikely minx you couldn’t wish to find.
The trouble was, they clearly liked us. Well HE did, at any rate. It turned out after talking to her, that she had been very upset with him for spending his nights chatting on webcam with us. It wasn’t just tiredness that was making her sleep, but aggravation. I don’t blame her really. If Dexter had spent that much time drooling over another woman on webcam night after night, I would be pissed too! Jealousy doesn’t just evaporate because you have chosen to live the swinging lifestyle. Common decency and common sense should prevail really, and I’d say sensitivity to your partner’s feelings is paramount.
It’s flattering to know that someone finds you attractive. It is all too easy to get carried away and not realise that you may be hurting either your partner or their partner in the process. It is bit of a minefield, this swinging malarkey; you have to be careful where you step.
I must admit though, it was a lot of fun teasing him. Both Dexter and I could see how gagging he was to see some sex. We weren’t about to give it up, and just chatted away like we do. Poor love. They’ve sent us an email asking us to dinner and back to theirs for a sex board game session. We politely declined. It’s not fair to tease forever. (And to be honest, it gets boring too!)

November 20th
Hello dear diary. It’s me again. I hope you don’t mind me sharing my innermost thoughts with you. It helps me sort my head out when it’s feeling a bit fuzzy. It seems like there are a lot of people who write their diaries online in the form of blogs. This blog phenomenon has really taken off. I’ve been browsing blogs on the swinger site that we belong to and have encountered a few really personal ones. I’m not so sure it’s a good idea to expose your innermost thoughts and feelings to the whole cyber community, although it retains a certain voyeuristic fascination for the reader. There’s something odd about reading deeply personal comments of people you will never know or meet. As for you, diary, I’ve never shared with you what lurks in Suzy’s past. One day if I’m feeling generous, I may share it with you. But for now, I’ll tell you what’s lined up  for Suzy’s future.

We messaged this London couple called Marlon and Vivienne, on the site we belong to.  We didn’t expect a reply really, but we got one very quickly. At first we were a bit dubious about them as the profile read more like a single man’s profile. The only pictures were those of a very good looking young black man, they looked liked professional shots. We emailed one another and a photo of Vivienne was sent. It wasn’t a professional shot like Marlon’s (he is an aspiring model) but was a fuzzy shot taken on a web cam. It’s clearly a genuine picture. She looks attractive, blonde with pretty blue eyes. We’ve set a date to meet. I’ll let you know how it goes.

December 2nd
Mood: comme- ci comme ca

Hello diary. It’s me again. I know you’ve been waiting patiently to find out how it went with Marlon and Vivienne. Where shall I begin?
We met in a club for a drink. I must learn to choose more suitable venues. It was not the best place to meet strangers. The music was too loud and there were not enough places to sit. Any way I digress. We spotted them as soon as we walked in the door of the club. She was looking pretty and confident, as if she had been meeting strangers for drinks all her life. He, on the other hand, was a totally different kettle of fish. He looked terrified. For all his height and good looks, this man looked more like a small boy about to confront the school bully. We greeted each other and got in the drinks. Dexter spoke to Marlon and tried to calm him down. This dude was shaking. Were we that intimidating? One drink later, we decided to decamp and find another more suitable place to chat. We ended up at a nearby gay bar. It was friendly and had free seats and the music wasn’t too loud. I was proud to be in the company of two West Indian men who were open minded enough to be able to thumb their noses at the homophobic stereotype that follows them. And we all know that black men do go down, don’t we girls?
Vivienne was lovely. While not exactly my perfect choice of woman physically, she had a charm and elegance that came from her being French. She also had a really naughty twinkle in her eye that I was keen to explore further. The DJ started playing cheesy 80s disco classics, I couldn’t resist the urge to get up and bop around on the dance floor. Vivienne joined me and we left the boys to chat football while us girls strutted our diva stuff and flirted with each other.
Our men were clearly causing a bit of a stir in the bar. Viv and I both giggled at the fact that all the gay men in the room were lusting after our very straight handsome men. They’d better watch out in the men’s room.
We got chatting and Vivienne told me how much she loved her man and that she had come over from France to live with him. They had recently moved in together and she had agreed to experiment sexually with him as part of a loving couple. Not unlike us really, I thought. Things were looking positive. We ambled back over to the table where our men were still talking football. It turns out that Marlon used to play semi-professionally, but now was working as a model. That explained his profile pictures.
The bar was closing and Marlon invited us back to their flat. A bus ride and a long walk up a steep hill later (I carried Vivienne piggy back all the way up the hill as her high heels were killing her) we were welcomed into their home.

It was a cold evening, and the heating was not working too well. Dexter sat with his back against the radiator trying to keep the chill off of his back. Marlon sat with his laptop on his knee as they chatted about the scene and whom they had met. Marlon made me feel very uncomfortable as he brazenly showed us messages he had received from single women wanting to meet him (as a single man). Viv was making tea, and she didn’t seem too bothered by Marlon’s insensitivity. Oh well, different strokes for different folks, I suppose.  I couldn’t help wondering if he had planned to meet these women or indeed, if he had already. The chat started to become a little stilted and I could sense Marlon’s growing unease. Dexter in comparison was as cool as a cucumber. He was cold, in fact. He was behaving as if he had done this all his life! I wondered why he wasn’t nervous like I was. Viv came in with the tea and I decided it was time to start off the proceedings. So I kissed her. It wasn’t quite as I expected. She had the strangest way of kissing, like a kitten, or a lizard, she had a pointed flicking tongue that darted in and out of my mouth. I’m more of a plunger type kisser, so I’m not sure if our styles matched! But, still it had the boys’ attention.
I looked around as I ventured under Viv’s top to discover some saucy French underwear, and saw Marlon grinning away like a kid in a candy shop. Well, we fumbled a bit, and ended up naked. I ended up with my head buried in Viv’s pussy and my arse sticking up in the air. Dex couldn’t resist himself and plunged his fingers into my pussy. Marlon asked Dex if he could touch too, and he asked my permission as well. That was respectful. Or maybe he was just scared; perhaps a bit of both. He got to see the squirt. That was clearly on the agenda for him that night.
It was at that point that things took a bit of a turn. We ended up swapping for the first time. Viv went down on Dexter and Marlon went to work on my pussy with his hands. That’s when I first felt it. It was an odd sort of feeling. Like a vague echo that I couldn’t quite hear. Even though Dexter was right there in front of me, I felt terribly alone. I didn’t mind watching Viv give Dexter head.

But I did mind the noises he was making. They were my noises

It’s hard to explain it. Every time I heard him moan, my heart lurched. I couldn’t concentrate on what Marlon was doing to me. In fact, I felt absolutely nothing at all. I’m ashamed to say that I pretended to enjoy what he was doing to me because I knew how anxious he was about the whole meeting. Here I was with a drop dead gorgeous young man, with my wonderful partner and a sexy woman next to me, and all I wanted to do was go home. I knew Dexter and I would have to talk about this.
We had set out to full swap. We enjoyed the socialising with this couple. We found them both very attractive. They were in a secure relationship .So why didn’t it feel right? Both Dexter and Marlon realised that the little man downstairs wasn’t going to stand to attention so they both aborted their missions. Dexter and I watched as Marlon and Vivienne attempted to fuck. It just wasn’t happening. There comes a certain time when it’s not worth struggling and you have to accept defeat. We had reached that point and we said our goodbyes and caught a cab home. We parted on friendly terms and spoke of escorting them to a swingers club sometime in the future.

This meeting has made me consider many things. The main thing being, I don’t think I want to be fucked by other men. I find that an odd concept. Anyone who knew me a few months ago would laugh if I had told him or her that. I had a reputation on the scene as a greedy girl; the more cocks the merrier.
Was this me being a pleaser? Am I deciding this to make Dexter feel more at ease? No, I don’t think that is the case. I certainly hope it isn’t. I just don’t feel the way I used to. A girl’s allowed to change her mind isn’t she? All I know is that I didn’t like that feeling of being alone that hit me when we swapped. I just wanted to take Dexter home and cuddle.

.




Diary 3
November 30th
Mood: Ecstatic

Oh my god, oh my god oh my god!
He loves me!   HE REALLY LOVES ME!
Forgive me, diary, I just had to shout it out over the rooftops.
Sorry…I’m getting ahead of myself here, let me explain. I went away with my best friend to Norway for a few weeks. I needed the head space after that last ‘shrink’ incident. Although I knew I would miss Dexter like crazy, (bless that man, he never gave up on me, even after I made that stupid mistake) I knew that I needed time and space to sort my head out. My friend has a country house away from all civilization, nothing but trees, lakes and mosquitoes. She invited me away for a break. I think she could see that I needed it. Poor woman, she’s been getting it all, instead of you, dear diary. Of course I took my mobile phone with me and Dexter and I text messaged each other as much as we could. I also used that time to clear up all the loose ends with the other men I had been seeing.  All of them unceremoniously dumped by text. Only one seemed bothered. He tried using humour to deflect his true feelings.
“What! You’re dumping me, from Norway? But I’m pregnant with your baby!” Nice try dude. Like I cared!

I used the time away to read and reflect. Although part of me was angry with myself for being so far away from Dexter. I longed to see him and hear his throaty laugh. I needed to see his wide smile that lit up a dark room. I longed to feel his gentle kisses. I sorely missed our heated debates that would go on long into the night and end up being resolved when the birds started to sing in the morning. And yes, my pussy throbbed at the memories of our times spent locked together in passionate embraces. The sex I had with Dexter made sex with other men pointless. No one could ever come close.

I knew that when I returned to London I had to come clean with Dexter  about my true feelings for him. I had to know if it was reciprocated. It appeared to be, in his actions and the way he looked at me, but I needed to hear it coming out of his mouth.
I knew I had to ask him if he loved me.

When I got back from Norway, I almost didn’t need to ask. He held me close on the doorstep, rocked back and forth, for about half an hour, muttering
‘Don’t ever go away again’ over and over.
That touching gesture made me cry. But I wiped the tears away; Dexter doesn’t like to see me cry.
When we finally made it inside my apartment, I gritted my teeth and knew I had to confront my worst fear… the fear of being rejected by someone I loved.
So I asked him.
“Dexter do you love me? Think very carefully about your answer because it will affect us from here onwards.”

(If he said no, I had decided I had to move on)

I saw his face flicker as he thought through carefully what he was going to say. I inwardly flinched as I anticipated the worst.
“Yes, I guess I do.”

And that was how DexterandSuz came to pass.

November 12th
Mood: content / contemplative

Well it’s official. We are a couple. Beyond my wildest dreams, I couldn’t have wished for a better thing to happen to me. We have both deleted our individual profiles on the Internet and set up a joint one as DexterandSuz. Since we met on scene, we thought we might as well continue on scene. Dexter’s not the sort of person who wants the person he fell in love with to change, although since meeting Dexter I have felt myself changing for the better, emotionally. He knows all about my sexual history, and I know his.
Nothing is taboo except dishonesty.
There’s one thing I have learnt since meeting Dex, and that is that it is always better to be truthful, no matter how hard you think it’s going to be. Once the truth is out, that’s as hard as it will get. So, neither of us are going to deny that we are attracted to other people sexually. As long as it stays open and honest, I don’t see any problems. I’m not sexually jealous, I’m emotionally jealous, I think.
The scene is far too entertaining to give up anyhow. Some say it’s addictive.  I wonder if I’ll feel any different now, though. I’m curious to know how it will change my behaviour. Will I feel jealous if I see him with another woman?

Will he be hurt if he sees me with another man? How will he react seeing me with another woman? I’m a little anxious as to what he would think if he saw me in full flow in a club situation now we are established as a proper couple and I can be open about my love for him. I’m sure I shall find out.  There’s a whole new world out there to explore together. I just can’t wait to get started.



{July 29, 2011}   Meet Dexter

Life is funny sometimes.
It amazes me when I look back on my life and see how things used to be. At present, the majority of people in my life know me as “Dexter St Jock” or just plain Dexter for short.
This name doesn’t mean anything to my parents. They wouldn’t dream of calling me anything else but the name they gave me at birth. To this day they have no idea why friends call me Dexter. I intend to keep it that way.

For those of you who are not familiar with comedy, Dexter is a character created by the legendary Eddie Murphy.
This character is a West Indian man with great charm and an even greater member in-between his legs. Fellas, you wouldn’t want to leave your woman alone with this man!
From an early age I found this character fascinating and was determined to be just like him. I already had the package downstairs and over time I would attain the charm and gift of the gab.

Every so-called player has his own approach or technique, depending on what you want to call it.
Some guys are real smooth just like a pimp, others play the cool, mysterious type (this works a treat). Myself, I choose to keep it natural. What you see is what you get, a well-mannered guy with a twinkle in his eye. I let my mouth do all the work but I never let the conversation get sexual. I talked to women the way I would a man, as a potential friend.
For some strange reason this seemed to work. The initial opinion a woman had of me would transform immensely. I would go from being a handsome, sweet guy to being drop-dead gorgeous and sexy! It was amazing how a levelheaded conversation could sway a lady sometimes.
In such a short space of time I’ve had more sexual partners than most men have had in their entire lifetime. I’m not claiming it’s something to be proud of rather just stating a fact.
Most men, married or single, are on a mission to seek and destroy; to conquer as many women as possible before they get too old to do so.
Unfortunately, most men don’t have the know how to do just that, so can only dream of it or watch from afar with envy, as other men live out their aspirations for them.

It wasn’t always this easy for me. I wasn’t always known as Dexter: in my early teens. I was known as plain old Leeroy; the chubby cheeked boy with a constant smile on his face.
I was one of those guys who blossomed late. I wasn’t pleasing on the eye according to the girls at my secondary school. As far as they were concerned I was “ugly as fuck”, big spread nose and rubber-lips to match. At that time, mixed-race or light-skinned black boys were the fashion! Having a chocolate complexion only made my situation worse than it already was.
Most people have fond memories of secondary school, not me! All the good-looking, popular boys with bad reputations got all the female attention. I, on the other hand, got constant insults from the opposite sex.
It was odd because the girls I knew from the area I lived in didn’t share the same opinion, they didn’t really find me attractive but they never had a bad word to say about me As far as they were concerned I was as sweet as pie.
If only the girls at school felt the same way, it would have made school a lot more enjoyable to attend.

Things did improve in the last couple of years at secondary school. I began to grow into my looks and after a trip to the States, I gained a brand new air of confidence.
I visited my aunt in West Palm Beach, Florida for two months. During my stay there I was Mr. Popular!
Everybody for at least ten blocks caught wind of the Black, English kid. All the teenagers wanted to know who I was and to be associated with me.
Up to this point, my life had been very boring. I couldn’t believe the fun I was having being the centre of attention.
I didn’t trick these kids by pretending to be something I was not. I didn’t need to; they built a whole new character for me that I went along with. They’d have been stunned to know that back home in the U.K I was the butt of many jokes.
This was the best time of my life up to that point and I consequently didn’t want to go back to London but had no choice. I decided I had to figure out a way to maintain that same feeling back home.

To be honest I didn’t manage to pull it off the way I would have liked, but at least everybody around me acknowledged there was something different about me.
The girls at school began to lighten up on the insults and in due time the jokes stopped. Period.
The girls around the way began to respond differently also. I was no longer just sweet as pie; I was now attractive to boot. This was when my life changed for the better.

A new air of confidence made the difference. A couple of successful fights also helped a great deal. Sometimes being feared was just as effective as being respected.
To cut a long story short, let’s just say that I changed over time to become a nice guy with a bit of a reputation and a few ladies on his arm for effect.

Despite having a few things that most men desire, I’ve never really felt at ease with my life. I guess it’s because I’m always reminded that I could have achieved more with myself. I’m a very intelligent person but with not much to show for it. I’ve done okay for myself financially, but people around me, such as family and close friends, always expected more of me from an academic point of view.
As far as everyone was concerned, I was supposed to do great things with my life, make a difference in the world we live in, stamp my place in human history.
Yes, I have a high IQ but does that mean I have to live out your dreams for you? That was the impression I always got, that I was living for them and not myself.
The grades I got in school were never good enough for the people around me. I was more than capable of getting straight A’s but I was content with doing just enough and receiving B’s with the occasional grade A in there somewhere.
Why should I have pushed myself that extra mile? The work never interested me enough for me to have really exerted myself to that extent.
Its funny, I often wish I had heeded my parents’ advice. I should have pushed myself to the very limit, as it would have been worth it in the long run as I would have been more content with the way my life turned out.
The job I have now pays well but had I pushed myself back then, I would have given myself more opportunities rather than being stuck in a job that I don’t enjoy but can’t really afford to quit.
I shouldn’t really complain as many people are far worse off than I am, but it would have been nice to have been one of those people who looked forward to waking up and going to work.
As for me, on the other hand, I could never wait to exit the building so as to indulge myself in one of the few things I enjoyed and did well: charming the socks (or should I say tights) off women!

There is always a down side to having multiple women in your life. It could be hard to get rid of them when you wanted some ‘alone time.’
As soon as you got rid of one, another one would pop up out of nowhere. Men who have never had the experience of having numerous sex partners will probably be wondering what the problem is. Trust me; no matter who you are, everybody needs time to be by themselves so they can either ponder on previous events that have happened or plan for the future.
Having more than one clingy female didn’t help, but I couldn’t really complain, as I shouldn’t have put myself in that position. Let’s face it, in my early teens I never would have imagined that there could be pit falls to having lots of sexual partners. As far as I was concerned at the time, it was a fantasy that had no flaws. Despite all that, it didn’t stop me from seeking out new girls, sad to say, but at that time in my life I needed variety.
Like the late great rapper Big Pun once said: “I don’t discriminate, I regulate every shade of arse!”
That was me in a nut shell. I couldn’t give a damn where you came from as long as you were attractive it didn’t matter to me.

As time went by I accumulated many aliases, one that was used frequently was the International Playa.
I had always thought this was a slight exaggeration on my pulling power but without realising it, I had managed to lay with girls from all over the world! This wasn’t my intention, just the way it had happened.
There were girls from Brazil, Cuba, Hong Kong, Thailand, Singapore, a handful from Spain, France, Hungary, Italy, Finland, Sweden, Australia and even a white chick from South Africa! How I had pulled that off was beyond me.
It seemed I was quite the globe trotter, my friends were envious and were mystified as to how I had managed it; to be honest so was I.
I never had a game plan, I just did what I did and somehow I always ended up with a result. Whether that was through luck, charm or both, who knows?
The strange thing about this habit of pulling women was that you sometimes needed to be heartless to maintain this lifestyle and avoid any possible drama. Unfortunately for me, I don’t have it in me to be that cold to a female, hence the fact I sometimes had clingy type women on my case.

I’m the type of person who feels embarrassed for other people. If I witness someone else making a fool of themselves, I cringe; I’m not quite sure why.
Having a female beg for just a little of your time can be ego boosting the first couple of times it happens, but as you grow older and begin to mature it becomes annoying.
I would sometimes get the urge to shake these girls like rag dolls and tell them to come to their senses. There wasn’t a man living worth that much hassle, especially not me.
You’re probably wondering if I ever had a relationship anywhere between those exploits of mine. The answer to your question is yes.

I had two relationships during my peak as a so-called playa. I tried my best to make them work and believe it or not, I never strayed once while courting.
I’ll be brief, the first relationship took place when I was seventeen years old, it didn’t last very long although I thought at the time that we stood a chance.
She was stunning, the kind of woman you see in movies. Think of Halle Berry and Beyonce meshed together to make one woman.
Add a little Arab spice and long hair and there you had it: Naomi, seventeen years old and sexy as fuck! Did I forget to mention? She was also rich as hell.
Her money was never an issue with me but as far as my friends were concerned I would have been a fool to let that one slip out of my hands. The good looks and money combination was most men’s dream come true.
We appeared to be perfectly matched but that appeared to be the problem, we were too much alike so we would often clash.
These arguments were stormy to say the least. Damn this girl had a temper. What triggered these famous temper tantrums? 
My reputation.
She was insanely jealous and couldn’t deal with the fact that I had slept with a lot of girls. It didn’t help that there were girls back then scheming to get their hands on me, all because they had heard rumours about my endowment from some chick and had to find out whether or not it was true.
There were many girls that I also considered friends, girls that I had no sexual history with but as far as Naomi was concerned, any bitch I was chatting to meant trouble.
I couldn’t deal with that level of jealously, it was totally uncalled for. There were more important things to me than how good you looked or how much money you had, so we parted company.

Skip about seven years, during that time I had more women in my life, some were one-off flings, others were regular sex partners.
Over that period of time I began to calm down. I was no longer congregating with the boys for wild nights out on the pull and I kept the number of girls I saw down to a minimum. Was I maturing as an adult or just growing tired of my way of life?

One of the girls I would meet on a regular basis was a sweet Oriental girl from Hong Kong called Sam. We met through a mutual friend at a local drink up and continued to see each other for casual sex for the next five months or so.
During the time spent together, we developed feelings for each other and I decided to give a relationship a go. Why not? We were both adults.
Her previous boyfriend had been very controlling and jealous.  I guess she had become accustomed to that kind of behaviour, as my approach to relationships was totally different and this took her by surprise.
I wasn’t usually one for relationships but as far as I was then concerned I’d be damned if any woman was going to change or control me, so why should I have tried to do the same to her?
As long as we were honest with each other we could both do as we pleased. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
Initially she struggled to adapt to that much freedom, such as being able to go out clubbing with friends and not be questioned. I was not her father, so who was I to interrogate her? That was and remains my outlook.
As she adapted to this new relationship, I noticed a change in her, she suddenly began to abuse my trust.
She appeared to mistake my politeness for weakness. Suddenly she seemed to think she could order me about in front of her friends; that was a very bad idea!
Nobody talks to me like I’m a boy, not even my father. He’s well aware that I’m now a man so I would never allow another human being to undermine my status as a proud man.
Her behaviour would often lead to me giving her a tongue-lashing. I tried to drum it into her head that I was fair but no fool, so not to attempt to treat me like one.
As months went by, I began to realise why her ex-boyfriend had kept her in shackles. Clearly this girl didn’t know how to act when given freedom.
I can’t elaborate on how this relationship ended but let’s just say that it wasn’t amicable, there remains to this day a lot of bad blood between us.

So much for relationships. For these very reasons I tried to stay away from them. I thought maybe seeing a large number of women was the only way to go.
Problem was, the more women you had the more problems you got. I decided to keep the number of casual sex partners down to a minimum, just enough variety to keep me happy.
No need to be greedy, I had already been there and done that, it was now all about quality and not quantity although my standard of fuck-buddies had always been high.

As time went on, I became bored of the gals I had. I know it sounds awful but I needed more variety in my life.
My best friend Bentley was now in the position that I once found myself in: too many girls to handle.
He didn’t care though; he’s what you would call a classic playa, “the Predator”. He loves the hunt; he simply can’t help himself.
To think that when we were teenagers he used to judge me for my exploits, he thought I was immoral for what I was doing at the time.
Oh how the tables had turned! I often teased him about his once ‘holier than thou’ attitude to women. Damn, he was self-righteous back in the day!
For some reason or another he didn’t like the idea of me slowing down. It wasn’t like I didn’t have girls at my disposal; it was just that there weren’t as many as before. He would often attempt to persuade me to attend a boys’ night out on the town. I would always decline as it was no longer my scene.
I had always reassured him that my slowing down wasn’t an indication that our friendship was coming to an end. No matter what, he was my boy for life; I would always love and respect him.
That didn’t appear to be good enough for him, as far as he was concerned I was the “Pimp Daddy”, the International Playa, for me not to be the number one ladies man didn’t seem right and made him feel uncomfortable.

One time at his house he introduced me the so-called joys of Internet dating. He tried to convince me that this was the way of the future.
Expensive nights out in clubs on the prowl were no longer essential to get want you wanted. The Internet provided everything.
He did a pretty good job of convincing me too. He was a member of a site much similar to Myspace but not on such a big scale. It wasn’t specifically for dating but that didn’t stop him.
His inbox was full of messages from pretty ladies wanting to meet him. His profile was well crafted; pictures of him in his flashy sports car served him well. Girls really did love cars and money after all.
Many of these girls lived abroad, Germany and Tunisia to name a few. Bentley was flash but he didn’t have a private jet at his disposal.

There was one girl that he was determined to meet; she was called Tiffany, a model from Jamaica. When I viewed the pictures on her profile, I could understand why my friend was so eager to meet her.
She was a stunner. Bentley liked the fact that my jaw dropped at the very sight of this girl’s beauty. 
At that point I was no longer sceptical of meeting people online.
Tiffany appeared to share his eagerness to meet. She said that she would be visiting London for work purposes and would love to meet up with him during her stay.
I knew my friend had pulling power but I never knew he was this good. He had already met a handful of girls in his network, but this one would end up being the prize of all prizes.

Over the next couple of days he began to receive messages from other men, some he knew and some he didn’t, warning him that he shouldn’t meet with Tiffany as she was actually born a “he”.
Bentley brushed this off as jealously. As far as he was concerned they were just jealous that he had succeeded where they had all failed.
I advised him to be cautious. Why would they have all made such an effort to inform him of this, if there were no truth behind it?  It was clear to see they had had some kind of contact with this person in the past as she appeared in all of their networks.
At that point his ears pricked up. I guess he needed to hear it from someone he held in high esteem rather than from a complete stranger or an associate that he didn’t really care for.
He wasn’t quite sure how he was going to ask such a difficult question. After all, any genuine woman would be insulted by such an insinuation that they could possibly be a man. That would definitely squash any chance of a potential meet.
Luckily for my friend he didn’t have to worry. Fortunately for him someone had posted a blog featuring stark naked full frontal pictures of Tiffany.
Yes indeed, this was a dude with very heavy equipment; the kind of tools any male porn star would be proud of!
Bentley didn’t seem too fazed by this. He said that she/he was just one person of many; there were many more fish in the sea.
I tried to tell him that this was nothing more than pure luck and if he didn’t believe me, that I would personally join a similar site to put my theory to the test.

A few days passed. This whole Internet business was the last thing on my mind; I did have a life after all!
When I had some time on my hands I thought I might as well run a search engine for similar sites. The results I came up with were unexpected. Rather than regular dating and networking sites, it gave me a list of popular swinging sites. Although these sites were much more in your face and full on than the site Bentley was a member of, the premise was all the same.
I chose the most popular site. Like most sites they claim to be totally free but once you sign up you come crashing down to earth really quickly.
In order to contact anyone you have to pay a fee. I thought why the hell not? It was not like I couldn’t afford it.
I quickly paid for a gold membership on my credit card and began to create my profile.
After witnessing the success that Bentley had had with his profile I was well aware I had to create a profile that was eye catching. I’m all about words, posing for a picture in a fancy car just wouldn’t represent my personality.
I wrote a detailed and honest profile and added a few modest pictures. Profiles without pictures often get passed by, so beware if you choose to go this route. I made my preference clear: I wanted to meet single women for no-strings-attached fun. I would also consider couples should they be interested.
I had never been in a threesome with a couple before but thought what the hell! I didn’t actually believe I’d receive that much interest anyway.
Much to my surprise it wasn’t long before I received a whole bunch of messages in my inbox. None of the people in question were my type as such, but nevertheless I had responses.
One email was from a gay male, how he figured we were a possible match was beyond me!  What I would come to find in due time was that some people don’t care what you want; they’ll force themselves on you regardless. I guess this is how it feels for women when they’re pestered by unattractive men.
As time went by I amazed myself. Was I really this appealing to the swingers of the world? It felt odd to turn away potential meets but I wasn’t going to meet just because they were chasing me.
Initially this was a quest to prove to my good friend that the Internet was no place to meet women. It had now gone way beyond that and had turned into my own little platform for meeting women.
It was hard for me to believe how addicted I had become. I had always presumed that only men who couldn’t pull in the real world wasted time with sites like this.
Here I was, a man who had had trouble getting rid of women, surfing the net engaging in this new found world of swinging.
I wasn’t focusing on the meets as such, not to say I would turn them down if the right person came along, but it seemed every person I came into contact with had a story to tell.

These people seemed to have wild sex lives, way more exciting than mine and to think that so many dudes I knew envied me for the number of women I’ve had in my time!
These people were engaging in the kind of sex you only see in porn movies. This wasn’t fantasy for them it was their reality.
I thought I’d seen and done it all but clearly not. This was my chance to sample the things that most people could only dream about.

This site I had joined had many features: blogs, sex workshops, magazines etc. One thing that caught my eye was the most popular list. As you can guess, it had categories for single women, single men, couples and even TV’s.
I would often check out the most popular women’s chart. Damn! There were some gorgeous ladies in this list but most of them were in America. It was more than likely they wouldn’t be interested in me even if they were only two blocks away but it would have been nice to have had the option to write to them even if there was even a slight possibility.
I never did check out the men’s list. I’m neither gay nor bi curious/sexual so I didn’t see the need to.
One day something hit me, maybe I should check out the competition and see what they brought to the table that made them so popular?
To my surprise I was in the top ten! I thought I must have been seeing things, but I wasn’t.
There had to be some kind of explanation for this, maybe there had been a glitch with the site or something. I thought I’d give it a couple of days to see if the site resumed to normal status.
Sure enough, a couple of days later there I still was, I had now leap-frogged into the top five, this was incredible! I had never anticipated, even in my wildest dreams, that I could be so popular, especially since I had yet to meet anyone from the site.
I had been receiving a lot of emails but presumed that others would have had ten times as much in their inbox. There were many men whom I considered to be way more attractive than myself on this site, so I thought I couldn’t be any competition.
I noticed that the guys above me were all gay with very full on profiles. These guys were no joke; they all had plenty of testimonials from other men they had met.
In fact everyone in the top ten other than me had a minimum of five testimonials from people they had actually met and had had fun with.

I guessed that was the next step, to actually take the plunge and meet somebody. I couldn’t believe how nervous the prospect of a meet made me. I had been with untold women in my short life but somehow these people intimidated the hell out of me, I was clearly a rookie amongst professionals.
My first meet was with a woman who went by the name of Karen; her handle on scene was Candygirl. She was an attractive brunette, thirty years of age living in East London.
She had messaged me a few days previously but I didn’t have the courage to agree to a date. She came across as very sexually aggressive and made sure to tell me that she would give my black cock a right seeing to when she saw me. I wasn’t sure what this meant but by swinging terms it could have meant anything.
She was married but had a single female profile. Her husband approved of her playing solo as long as he got to hear all the juicy details of her sex encounters; true sex stories made him horny apparently!  What ever floats your boat, hey?
We agreed to meet each other during the week. She had kids but they would be at school when I made my visit.
I made my way to the address she gave via public transport. As I left the bus at the appropriate stop I could feel the eagles swooping about in my stomach.
As I made a turn down her street, it got worse. If I’m totally honest, I thought I was going to shit myself for real. Any second now I was about to embarrass myself big time.
I looked around for a public toilet. I was never the type to use one of these things but my arse was about to explode, I couldn’t see one.
The only choice I had was to make my way to her house and ask to use her toilet; hardly a great first impression but I didn’t have a choice. There was no way my bowels would hold out much longer.
I made my way to door number 19. As soon as I knocked on the door it suddenly stopped; the bowel movement, the eagles suddenly disappeared! What the hell was going on?
I’m usually the epitome of cool when it comes to the opposite sex and there I stood a bag of nerves but once I reached my destination I was myself again. How odd!
I was very pleased with what I saw before me, she looked good in her pictures but way better in person. She had on a lace outfit, which didn’t leave much to the imagination but I wasn’t about to complain.
I was surprised that she opened the door dressed like that. What if the neighbours saw? It wasn’t my problem after all, that was for her and the husband to deal with.
She invited me in and led me to the living area; she quickly offered me a drink. This was all very normal, not at all what I had expected.
She came back from the kitchen with my fruit juice and sat beside me. We must have engaged in small talk for around ten minutes before she made it very clear we weren’t there to talk!
“Excuse me”
With that said she began to rub my crotch and kiss me. Her lace outfit was crotch less. I wonder why?
I didn’t waste any time laying her back and putting my tongue to work. I had nothing to be scared of at all, this was just like regular casual sex with the exception that we had met online and didn’t know each other at all.
I was down there for quite some time. She wasn’t complaining at all but wasn’t content with just a tongue. She wanted dick and I was more than willing to give it to her. I found her extremely sexy and didn’t want to waste any more time.
She led me upstairs to the bedroom, we undressed and you can guess the rest.

Usually sex with someone you have just met isn’t great, it usually takes a while to get to know their body and what makes them feel good.
In this case the sex was great, although we did have time on our hands. I arrived at her place just after 9.30 am and didn’t leave till after 2pm, so we were at it for a while.

We met a few more times after that but she suddenly began to get a little bit too personal. I saw signs of her developing feelings for me, which was out of the question. Yes I found her attractive but I had never agreed to anything more than what we had first arranged.
She asked for me to be her regular. I refused.  I didn’t think it was a good idea, as I couldn’t see anything good coming of it. I had presumed, wrongly in this instance, that this woman was an experienced swinger and didn’t allow emotions to get in the way.
I was the only guy on scene she had met more than once for sex. I didn’t see this as a problem as she was married, but I could sense trouble ahead so I bailed out with the quickness.

I managed to encounter a few more women on scene. Some were women with cuckold husbands; others were young girls looking in the wrong places for love. It seemed the scene wasn’t all what it was cracked up to be after all.
Very few women, with whom I came into contact, embodied the true spirit of swinging: the type of women who live for the moment and have no hang-ups whatsoever. The type of women that didn’t have time for emotional attachment, the kind of women that would kick you out as soon as she’d done fucking the shit out of you.

There was this one woman who fitted the profile perfectly. She was a white lady in her late thirties, from the outskirts of London who had a cuckold husband.
Her profile stated clearly that she preferred black men although men of all races were welcome as long as they were toned and well endowed. She ran an online sex store from the comforts of her home, whips, chains, dildos; the works. This was the kind of woman I had expected to meet from the very beginning.
We spoke often on the phone, we had garnered a good rapport with each other but unfortunately what I later learned unsettled me greatly.
She told me that her husband was very ill and unable to have sex. Now many people reading this would ask me what the problem was as I already knew they were a cuckold couple.
Many men from cuckold couples are more than capable of having sex, they just choose not to as they maybe submissive sexually or just voyeurs.
The fact that this man was extremely ill; he was in and out of hospital on a regular basis didn’t sit well with me. This made me wonder how she found the time to meet strangers for sex with a sick husband and three kids to look after.
Yes, this woman fitted the mould of a classic freaky swinger that I had been searching for, but I didn’t fancy shagging the shit out of a woman while her husband watched; not because he wanted to but because he didn’t have a choice.
We never did meet, it seemed sex was a definite prospect but I guess our conversations killed that possibility. That’s what I got for being a chatterbox, too much information received.

The next lady in question would open my eyes drastically. Her name was Suzy; a sexy Latino lady who also had an appetite for black men.
Unlike many other women who single out the brothas she actually requested for only West Indian men to contact her. A lot of women who are not black are ignorant to the fact that we are not all the same.
This lady was well aware that black people didn’t all come from the exact same place, that there were visible cultural differences within the race.
It was funny because initially I was sceptical about messaging her, she had a face picture on her profile, which I thought was bold and risky for any woman to do.
The picture displayed what I can only describe as a “ghetto fabulous” woman, huge hoop earrings and a scowl that exuded attitude.
Not that there is anything wrong with being ghetto fabulous, but it is not such an attractive trait for a so-called professional woman in her mid thirties. Despite this we exchanged personal IM addresses.
Our first chat online was hardly a conversation, in fact I recall nothing more than a sentence from her. She quickly invited me to view her cam.
I accepted, presuming her intention was to prove to me she was a genuine woman, but what I got was a full on web cam show.
Let’s just say all I could see was wet pussy and litres of ejaculating fluid. Was I supposed to be impressed by this?
It became pretty obvious that I wasn’t the only guy viewing the display. Unfortunately for her I had other options, unlike the other prats that were egging her on.
It wasn’t long before I stopped viewing her cam and logged out of IM without saying goodbye. I wasn’t about to pamper this woman’s ego. I’m not the type to wank over a cam show. Why should I when I have a healthy sex life? I decided I wouldn’t be saying hello to this woman anytime soon.

A couple days later, whilst I was on IM her name popped up online. I didn’t message her as I didn’t have anything to say.
After five minutes or so she messaged me to say hello. It became clear she was waiting for me to say hello first but realised it just wasn’t going to happen.
I’m sure as a genuine woman on scene, the moment your name appears on IM every man online jumps to say hello; not this nigga!
She asked me where I had disappeared to the other night. I told her that what she had been doing wasn’t my cup of tea so I logged out. I didn’t see any point in not telling the truth.
She seemed surprised by this response but nevertheless embarked on a normal conversation. We chatted for an hour or so about work and life in general. She told me she had two daughters from her previous  marriage and now that she was free she was working the circuit to find out what she had been missing whilst being married.
That was fair enough. At least I knew I had a grasp of a real human being rather than just a wet pussy on a screen. Now we were getting somewhere.
Sex is sex, but I needed to know something about the person I intended to sleep with. If you have no information then you never know what you could be getting yourself into. Although our conversation was light-hearted, I wasn’t totally convinced by this woman. The previous two women had had something for me to consider and I wasn’t sure Suzy hadn’t either; although she gave the impression she had no hang-ups.
A couple of months and many IM conversations later, as we had yet to establish whether we would ever meet, Suzy would often suggest a date and I’d always find an excuse.
Eventually Suzy asked why we had yet to exchange numbers. She suggested that we chatted on the phone, as it was easier to communicate with voice rather than words on a screen. I agreed with her that this was a valid point and I made a decision to call her later on that day. I had just finished work when I decided to call her. The phone rang a couple of times before she picked up the call. To my surprise this well-spoken woman answered the phone.
This was not what I had expected at all.  I had anticipated a feisty Latino chick with street slang; this woman was damn near posh as fuck.
Her voice so didn’t fit with the face picture she had displayed on her profile. As a young black English male, I, of all people, should have known better than to judge a book by its cover.
We had a wonderful conversation, it was like we had known each other for ages; our common love for a certain female recording artist only added to the obvious chemistry we had.
I couldn’t believe I had been such a fool to second-guess this lady. Not only was she attractive but she also had a vibe that I found irresistible. For some reason I still stalled on a meet, but eventually agreed at short notice to meet at her place after she had challenged me.
She rang me on a Sunday to say that her kids were at their father’s and I should come around if I wasn’t scared. This was a good tactic on her behalf, as I couldn’t resist proving her wrong.
I made my way to her home with two bottles of Alize in hand. Suzy greeted me at the front door looking cute as hell. I was very pleased that she had persuaded me to join her that night.
We sat down on her living room couch with a couple of drinks and proceeded to chat,  the conversation was running smoothly.  Suddenly she just grabbed my face and shoved her tongue down my throat.
This was not a bad thing at all but previously in many talks online she had repeatedly told me that she didn’t like to kiss and would rebuff any man who tried to lay his lips on her as it was too personal.
Here she was snogging my face off which I found quite odd, it wasn’t long before we were groping and sucking but believe it or not we didn’t have sex that night. For some reason it didn’t seem appropriate.
It was as if we forgotten why we had met in the first place. We had clearly made some kind of connection beyond sex and were content with chatting the whole night through.
The next morning we did eventually have sex despite the fact we were knackered from not having slept all night. A swollen penis and throbbing pussy had to be attended to.

We both had other casual sex partners but continued to see each other on a regular basis. It was pretty clear that we had put each other on the top of our fuck buddy lists.

Prior to meeting Suzy, my favourite female was a twenty-two year old lady called Ansu from Finland. She was an absolute stunner with the sweetest personality. I was now beginning to see less and less of her as my visits to Suzy’s house became more regular. Ansu didn’t really like this arrangement but couldn’t complain as she also had her own boyfriend to consider. I liked Ansu a great deal and would often go out of my way for her but the fact she had a boyfriend who was suspicious of her actions didn’t exactly help the situation.
It wasn’t like we could hook up whenever we got the urge; she had to plan carefully in order not to get caught out.

Suzy didn’t have a partner; just casual fuck buddies although I often wondered whether they all came to her house. That wouldn’t have made a good impression on her daughters if they were forced to witness different black guys whizzing in and out of their home.
She reassured me that wasn’t the case, as I was the only regular male face that came into the house. If she met anyone else it would have been at his or her pad. I didn’t want special treatment by any means but I’d be damned if I would contribute to an unstable environment. I would rather walk away before let that happen.



{July 29, 2011}   Hello world, are you there?

This is a true story, only the names and places have been changed to spare blushes and protect identities.

This blog was started off as a personal journal, a means of self-reflection for my own sanity. Then I met a wonderful man and realised that the story we had between us was bigger than the both of us. Partly self-reflective and partly story telling, we share our intimate thoughts with you in order for you to grasp the bigger story written in these posts.

Dedicated to those young people on the brink of adulthood, especially those young people who have been through tough times/ abuse and are seeking empathy and trying to make sense of it all. This story is for all adults who tire of empty, cheap thrills, who are brave enough to start to search within rather than further afield. This is dedicated to the cyber generation who misguidedly seek real emotion and friendship in ‘Cyberland.’ This goes out to all you modern ladies who feel cheated being the ‘friend with benefits’; there is a way forward.
Dedicated to any of you have loved and lost and never thought you would dare to take that risk again. This story is for you.

This is, most of all, a contemporary love story. But don’t expect any roses or candlelit dinners…

And have I mentioned swinging? There may be a bit of that too.
So snuggle down in a nice comfortable chair, kick off your prude shoes, open your mind and heart and indulge.



et cetera