pussy hunters

men fall in love, too

trip, slip and splat...

right into the heart

of a woman's thighs...

this isn't LOVE love

this is mmm love

lust love

fuck love

touch love

epicurean pussy eaters

masters of friction diction

connoisseur of cunts...

professors of the

P

U

S

S

Y...

the animal of man

sits in wait...

watching

tits and waists

measuring

hips and tastes...

scoring

dips and sways...

do wide thighs

lead to tight sighs?

does an 'onion'

lead to sweet cries?

does her lips mimic

the ones on her face?

or does it resemble

an orchid...uniquely placed?

these preying man-kids

seek smells and touch

will her pussy speak to him

when he spreads her love?

does an extraneous bottom

hide honeyed flows?

does her mound

create valleys

where heaven only knows?

it's as if,

with every woman

with every shape...

beckons his wonder

as his craving awakes...

will she fit him

as if it was meant for he?

will she give forth juices

he'd happily marry?

will her sex make all

of her flaws melt away?

will the sound of his dick

plummeting deeply

create waves?

the pussy hunters

have it on their mind

every moment of the day

how they can penetrate

every pussy

in extraordinary ways

the look, shape and potential

for perfection,

the taste, sounds and feel

for an exponential erection...

pussy, pussy, pussy...

how doth thou feel?

every pussy hunter

is hunting the pussy

that will make him yield...

© 2015 Kween Kiwi

do me like this...

like...

as i nap peacefully

in the midday

waiting for him to come home

enter our room

and...

while i'm asleep,

thigh exposed

breast resting

in heaves

i want him to slide his hand

down the length of my leg

and back up again

disregarding the hem of my skirt

finding himself a handful of

hips,

lips,

sweet dip...

and awakening me

with kisses

his lips warm

and soft

over my skin

riling me from a dream

to a dream

his affectations

and adoration

his loving declarations

scribbled in moans

and grateful smiles

across my fevered chills

i want him to,

turn me over as I stir

smothering each breast

in appreciation

his hands,

still dipping between hips

playing hide and taste

between his lips

and

when he feels my back arch

he knows to slide sheets down

skirt up

panties down...

...well, i'll leave the rest to your imagination.

i just want a love to do me like this...

The Pussy Is Mine

pimped an old pic b/c I didn't realize I rarely take sexy pics anymore...

~A Sweet Kiwi Dream (happened last night/this morning)~

I decide to attend a party...a club no less. Not really my scene, but I am striving to leave my comfort zone for some mental fornication. I love a good mind fuck...

I'm dressed in cream...short skirt, thighs thick as thieves...stealing the attention from every woman in the place. Cleavage properly placed...all angles a sweet vantage point. Tall guys are staring into valleys, short guys get mountains...and out of the peripheral, a sumptuous bounce.

Lips reddened the color of freshly juiced berries...

I move to the music...ALL of this...giving personality to the room. I'm dancing to myself as I survey, while eyes find me in smoky half-darkness.

He spies me...one of the promoters. He's in the booth with the DJ and hits the floor with urgency to talk to me.

Cut to us in bed with his head between my breasts, hands cupping fluff and my head thrown back...giggling at his eagerness. His head falls between my legs and I am no longer laughing...I'm pleading to stop...and go deeper. No...don't do that...yes...do it like that. We compete for who can suck who best, but he loses. I win. We win. 

I leave. Find my way home. Enter...some fool waiting outside my apartment door as I fumble for keys. He wants to come in. He's not the SAME He I just left...just drama needing my attention. I dismiss him.

I seem to remember forgetting something at "Dre's" place. For the first time in my dream he has a name. (Did I hear a Beat by Dre's commercial in my sleep? Possibly)

I go to his place, but a girl answers...his cousin. She says that he's not there, but if I want to wait I can. She leaves. I wait. Dre never shows. I leave.

Somehow, I end up going back after a phone call and guess what? Between hot sex with Dre and making home, there's been some "dream drama" where I am the center of lies. They got me looking like a ho in my own dream y'all. lol ...I ain't do it. If I did it...I'd admit it...but, some guy (who seems to know Dre) is lying on me. 

Dre attempts to keep the the thing I forgot. When he sees me again, he toys with me about how the thing (which is shaping up to be a very expensive jacket) ...has been given to one of his hoes. Oh no, Sir...not I. I let him know that it will not be pretty if he wants to fuck with me...but, a hard head makes a soft ass...every time.

I go home...relax...feed SOME one's kid (I have none) and then the phone rings. It's Dre. Again...he's beckoning me to his place to address my belongings. I get there and he's fine. He reminds me of this young actor I've seen on TV. Don't know his name, but he's a cutie. Lips that mean what they say and do...sexy ass eyes and smile. Anyway.

Dre seems to be in his feelings...he confesses to knowing I didn't do anything scandalous. He also confesses with those eyes that as I was sucking the ecstasy out of him...I managed to blow into him some warm and fuzzy feelings. Aww, tink tink is falling. 

...in the dream...I do too.

And we make love to...

Passion Parties: The Ultimate Girls' Night In

~saunters in with plate of strawberries, mangoes, peaches, banana slices and a little kiwi~

Hi honies...

I came to share a little something with you. I know you all have heard of Passion Parties. Right?
-_- ...mmm hmmm, I thought so. lol

Well, I have a friend who is MORE than willing to provide you the sexy, sensual, delectable, sweet tools of the trade. The trade of trysts and rendezvous that is. She's no stranger to eroticism and definitely fit to show you the way to fun in the bedroom. She's one of my sisters in scribe and her pen STAYS hot. If you're looking for a little something extra in the bedroom...give her a holla!

"Passion Parties offers the ultimate adult sensual products party in North America"

You don't say? Don't take my word for it...see for yourself.

Okay my juicy ones...I left you some fruit AND a luscious link ---> Passion Parties...Traci Lee, Independent Passion Consultant.

Partake...get messy,,,and if you dare, share with us ;) 

Be SURE to pass it on!! 

~licks fingers, gets up and leaves~ 

Naughty Gras: Tales of Fat Tuesday

Hello my juicy ones! Yea yea yea...I know. The hostess is never home, but I'm here now and I've got a tasty smorgasbord for you all to partake of. Well not too long ago, I posted an anthology called, "Summer's Heat". Four stories by four different authors...all themed for the sizzle of summertime. Sable Jordan, Katlynne LaSalle, Perri Forrest and myself, banged it out [on the keyboard] so that you all could salivate with salacious stories of sex and sensual sweetness. lol

Well, we're back. Sable invited us back and this time we have a new author, Jessa Callaver!! I would be remiss not to add that I am ALSO responsible for the cover art! :)

The story is on Amazon for 99 cents...but, it's also on Smashword for FREE. Can't afford 99 cents? FREE is better. lol

My story is a spin off of the journal series I began here on Passion's Fruit called "Elle's Tales". THIS time, Elle is in New Orleans during Mardi Gras with her bestie...and that's all I'm gonna tell you. hehe

When thinking of a story (and actually writing one from start to finish) I actually decided what better way to connect my erotic short to my name and site, then to create one from an already existing character. I PRAY I've done a good job holding Elle down. She's a tough cookie. I keep her locked into a way to be, but I tried to let her out more in this anthology. I wanted the story to be more personal or at least...give her some substance beyond her nasty grind. lol

Don't be shy, please let me know if the fruit is good or not. ;)

Naughty Gras on Amazon
Naughty Gras on Smashword

Fucking for Sport: A Thought

I wrote this on my tumblr page and felt the need to share it with my passionate fruit-eaters. I wonder this all of the time, but decided to put it out there early in the morning. Check it out:

Click to enlarge

So...as you can see. I was just wondering.

What do you think?

Elle's Tales: From the Pen of Qualiq

From the pen of Qualiq:

I haven’t been able to get that night with Lillianna out of my head. When we were younger, I couldn't have imagined that I’d have my dick in that. I had and still have extreme respect for her...she’s one of those women who gives you no choice. That night, though?...gave me chills. The softness of her skin...silkier than any woman’s I’d touched before. The plump fullness and natural warmth of her thighs ...her ass in my hands...damn. The way the hardness of her nipples contrasted with the round plushness of her breasts still make my dick drip at night. Elle tasted like a mix between sweet papaya and mango...her creaminess a perfect smoothie of her scent. I jacked off to her lips on my dick and her hair in my nose for days after she’d gone home.

Problem with this is...I can’t contact her. Asking the ‘rents is out. Rev & Mrs. Thorne are too keen for them to not know what I’d want. I've never asked about her before...or maybe I’m putting too much thought into it. I crave this woman so much right now that I’m sitting here consequently running fears of rejection from her parents through my mind. I want this woman on my lap with the intense urgency of a teen virgin...and I can’t even muster the balls to walk next door and ask her mother for the number...

...to some of the best sex I've had in a very long time. I wanna say it’s the way her juiciness spilled over down to my sac...or the perfect fit and suction of our motions. I can’t lie though...I think it’s the scent of her neck and how she smiles. How she leans her head to the side as she laughs. Her lip crooks when she’s fidgeting and I could see how intense our chemistry was while we sat at the table with her family. I spent one day with her and I can’t stop thinking about her. I can’t stop needing to make love to her. I always had a slight crush on her, but all I can think of is when is the next time she’ll come home...to me.

Her brother and I went to school together and I remember when we were younger, he used to always say, “Yo, Qua...watch out for Elle. Don’t let nobody hurt my baby sister.” He said this again on his way to college...leaving a year before I did. I didn't want anyone to touch her...but me. Yet, she was so into that dude Omar I just let her be. When they broke up I heard rumors of her being a slut, but I paid them no mind. Even if she did what they said...I didn't care. Lilliana was one of those girls that she could do no wrong. She could cuss you out publicly and you’d call her that night and apologize for making her do it. Again...more feelings I couldn't express to her.

So, how and why did we do what we did? How is it that after years of bypassing me and me holding in my carnal thoughts of her...did we end up fucking like that in my place? What did I do specifically to land myself dick deep into my adolescent fantasy? Had she always liked me?

I just know...that I want her. I don’t know where she lives. I have no phone number. Nothing. All I have is olfactory memories...phantom strokes of me inside of her. I think I may need to just forget her.

~bell chimes at the Thorne residence~
*Mrs. Thorne opens the door for her neighbor*

“Hi, Mrs. Thorne...I was wondering if I could talk to you.”
“Sure, Qualiq...come in...”

To Be Cont’d...

Elle's Tales: Cody

{Cody, 30, Nashville, TN}

The pressure of bouncing was beginning to make my knees ache, but the throbbing in my clit was dangerously swelling to a nut. The adrenaline kept me stroking this man's dick as I got the wettest I can remember getting. His lightly tanned skin was sparkling in the light from the window and I saw his eyes roll back, him clench down on his lip and his thickness pulse. I imagine...if you could SEE the nut bust through the head of his dick it would look like bulges pumping with rhythmic succession until it splattered the inside of the magnum he was wearing. "SHIT, Elle......your snatch is SO wet! Uuggh..." Cody grunted out in his thick southern accent. As drips of liquid fever slowly streamed down my face and breast...my smirk became my fuck face and I came in creamy stickiness all over him. Together...we exhaled long and I fell on top of him with our sweaty bodies smacking loudly. My abs HAD to be improving with the work I'd done on this white boy in the last week.

My FIRST white boy. OMG...his dick is HUGE. His appetite is LARGER and good grief he can eat pussy like Pooh licks the bottom of a hunny pot. This white boy's swagger is NOT like swagger I'm used to. This is some straight-out-of-the-western-movies type shit. All he's missing is the cowboy hat and the strand of straw hanging from his perfectly lined teeth.

I lift and remove him from inside of me and SHIT...after the pleasure is gone, my little hole reminds me of how big he is. I wobble to the bathroom and turn the shower on. I walk back into the room naked from head to toe, standing in the window's light and you know what this dude says?

"Lady, your body looks like those paintings...the ones in Europe. Ruben somebody....but either way...it's made for hugging and fucking..."

I didn't know whether to laugh at his almost adorableness...or be insulted by his brash statement that I was just physical fulfillment. Either way, this man was intrigued by the "Rubenesque" curves of my body and he inhaled them like he was taking in his last breath. I loved chilling with this man all week, but tonight was our last "run-through". He had fucked me motionless and I'd rode him until the mattress coils were fully compromised with my knee prints. All that was missing was a matching print of my tits, my name and a star.

"Thank you, Cody baby...you're too sweet. Do you want to join me in the shower?" I asked. He jumped up...that gorgeous pipe, swinging and followed me into the shower. I don't really share showers with men. It seems intimate to me...but with Cody the shower is fun. There's no kissing and cuddling...just him washing, licking, re-washing and re-tasting until my skin had pruned and his skin had been scrubbed til it had reddened. This man had me "under arrest" against the shower, barely stable from the soapy water rippling through our feet...sucking me slip and slide style while my pussy begged for more. Face, breast and hands pressed up against the shower door as he damn near lifted me off my feet with each suck. I was licking frosted glass because it was so good!

I can’t express enough the fact that my job has MANY perks. I find that I’m almost always enjoying a trip or vacation of some kind on little to no funds of my own. I can afford to travel, but I never have to worry about doing so. When the boss asks me to consult, confirm and close...I do so, at the company’s expense. I’m one of their best and I’m also one of their most-loved reps. The clients love me and request my presence as a preference. Having said that...all I came to Nashville for was to consult with a client at her home, attend a few galas, and enjoy a few hoe downs. Well...I guess, I did in a way. Jacqueline Hunter with her typical big hair and signature [albeit, designer] cowgirl boots...wanted me to enjoy a week at her massive ranch-style mansion and enjoy the stables, grounds and luxury amenities at her expense. It was a gorgeous home and I enjoyed my stay. She was a gracious hostess and made sure that anything I wanted, I got. What she didn't expect was for me to help myself to her husband’s nephew. Cody had sashayed in wearing chaps and a cowboy hat and at first glance I chuckled. Some people REALLY DID live this country life. A farm full of cows, chickens, goats, pigs, horses, and such aren't pictures in a book. They were right in front of me...the sounds, the smells...and this very handsome white boy giving me Urban Cowgirl dreams.

The first time Cody and I spent time together was when Jacqueline’s husband, Roger invited me to come ride with the family. They picked a horse for me, saddled it and made sure I had the appropriate gear to wear. I was nervous. I cracked jokes about how strong the horse needed to be. How he probably hadn't been used to big girls with brown skin. Jacqueline and Roger assured me that it had less to do with that and everything to do with matching the horse’s calm spirit and allowing him to lead me with my own timely but gentle steering. I learned on that trip to not self deprecate for laughs. In different settings it comes off as being uncultured, and others find themselves cringing in embarrassment by your own insecure feelings. I learned to let go and be Elle.

As we were leaving the stables, I spotted Cody...spotting me. He’d been lovingly stroking the mane of beautiful mare and had made eye contact with me. As my horse, “Sunflower” trotted away...I smiled at him sweetly and went on my way.

After an hour of riding and sightseeing, we returned to the stables. Before I could join Jacqueline and the rest of her children going back to the house...Cody cleared his throat and spoke. “*ahem*...Hi there, ma’am. I just wanted to tell you that you are so darn beautiful. Your skin is so smooth looking...” he uttered shyly. I smiled and said, “Why thank you...and your name is?” He smiled widely and I saw the whitest, straightest teeth and noticed that he had full lips. He was something like a Channing Tatum clone, but with curly blonde hair. “...Cody. Cody Graham. Nice to meet you...and your name is?” “Oh! I’m Elle. E-L-L-E...” I said as I extended mine to meet the one seemingly frozen in mid-air. “Like the magazine?” he asked. “Yes...just like that.”

HOW I ended up bent over grabbing my ankles for support while he fucked me country-style behind the stables and a towering shield of hay bales...was beyond me.  “Oh shit...oh wait, no, hold on...oooh yeaaa...oh what the hell are you fucking me with?” He was so big. I was running and he was pulling me back by gathering the hem of my flowing top, which was beginning to choke me. I felt light-headed as he was pounding into me but was helpless to do anything. My pussy was soaked and I could feel the coolness of the breeze on my wet thighs. “Oh GOD...DAMN!” he said repeatedly. He must have felt my top beginning to give way and that’s when he released it and grabbed my waist. His hands were gripping my waist and pulling me in and out...I felt like a rag doll. He released his tensions into me and as he felt me come with him in a violent shake of my lower half, he reached around and pressed down firmly on my clit. When he let me go and I stood up, my back felt broken. I stumbled and he caught me. He giggled a little and asked, “Are you okay, Elle?” I looked at him with blurred vision and said, “Fuck yea...”

That began the week long fuck fest between Cody and I. I was shocked when that man took my orgasm to the next level with his tongue on the third night of my stay. This happened the night after  we first had sex.

I was in my room (thank God that Jacqueline had the genius of mind to give me a room in a separate wing of her home for my privacy). I had just had dinner with the family and decided to go and do some last minute business stuff. I had to conference with my boss Peter and his boss Amelia. We sat on the three-way for about 20 minutes with a summary of how things had gone at the meeting with Jacqueline the first day I got here. I ALWAYS make the initial meeting with my clients on the first day of my arrival so as to get the business out of the way. We tie up loose ends and use whatever time left in my visit to enjoy the scenery. In all truth...most times, I just come home. Anyway, there I am...newly showered after all the business fuss is over. I’m nodding slightly after trying to text Collette back...when there’s a knock at the French doors. I jumped out of my sleep immediately and threw on my robe. I looked past the thick drapery and saw Cody’s smiling face. I unlocked and opened the door and greeted him all while feeling to see how unkempt my hair might be. “You don’t have to worry, Elle...you look like an angel...” he said as he eyed my sleepwear underneath my open robe. I had on a long tank, that really only stopped at the top of my thighs...I had no panties on. He walked straight over to the room’s door and locked it. Cody then turned around and winked at me. I clutched my robe closed almost as if I was afraid of what came next. He sat down in the chair next to mine facing the plasma television mounted on the wall. I sat silently waiting for him to speak. He didn't. Instead, he fell to his knees out of the chair and crawled the short distance between the two seats to me. The look Cody gave me when he slid his frame between my knees was one of asking. His eyes asked me could he be there and I answered by parting them. He ran his hands back and forth over my skin from knee to thigh and said in the sweetest accent, “Geez, you’re soft...I’m about to bust wide open from the way your skin feels, Elle...” I blushed and moaned. He was turning me on and he’d done nothing more than caress me. His hands moved underneath my knees and he pulled me forward which made my tank rise above my waist. He removed my robe and threw it over the other chair. He placed his hands underneath my tank and massaged my breasts. I closed my eyes, tilted my head back and opened my legs wider. Not taking his hands from my nipples, now between his fingers...his tongue landed in my navel.  I felt wetness form between my lips instantly.  He trailed his tongue from my navel to my dripping space and began to paint my pussy with it. He’d lap the pearl of my sweetness and then spread it up and down with his mouth. I  wriggled in place as he softly kissed and tugged at my swollen labia. His tongue...thick, warm, wet and something like a fine instrument...went from dipping in and out of me, to licking me clean and sucking me motionless. When he finally went in on my clit, relentlessly sucking, flicking the tip of his tongue on it, with his thumb in my ass and his index finger in my pussy...I lost it.  I wanted him there and then I didn't...I fought him and pulled him in. I clamped down on his ears and spread my wings as far as I could. While he continued twisting my nipples and strumming them like guitar strings...I let out a wail that could’ve woken the dead. I covered my own mouth and continued to quake on his jaw until I was exhausted from the pleasure.

Once he'd freed himself from my hold and sat back on the floor on his elbows, licking his lips he said, “I like how soft you are...” He said this a lot during my stay. “... you've got the prettiest snatch I’ve seen...ever. Can I take a picture of it?” His request threw me off. Why, I don’t know. “Yes...” I said. I opened up my glory and he pulled out his cellphone. He snapped the pic and thanked me. Then without a word...he took out his dick, then a condom, opened the condom, placed it on and kissed my lower lips long once more. He slid himself into me and I winced...relaxed and closed my eyes again. He fucked me right in that position as I dripped excessively. Oh, DAMN did I get wet with his tool between my legs.

...and that’s how we spent every night afterwards until I left for home. Riding a cowboy.

{Cody in Nashville. 30yrs old. 10” dick. 5 out of 5 kisses + 5 out of 5 licks.

What The Internet Taught Me

The pic that got me into inbox trouble recently

I was kicking around my kitchen this morning...making pancakes and coffee. As usual, this is when my mind starts clicking...well, my mind is ALWAYS clicking...but, there are triggers for moments when I get my best ideas. Showering is one (I talk in the shower, shhh don't tell nobody). Walking is another. I KNOW someone has looked at me and prayed to God I had a Bluetooth piece in my ear. lol ...the others are cooking and cleaning. Today it was both...

As I washed dishes to prepare my breakfast...it hit me out of nowhere. Meaning...before this thought, there was no provocation for me to be in thought about love and relationships. It's the fault of my Ascendant's influence...that dang planet Uranus with it's flashes of ideas and inspiration.

I realized that back when I first made my entry onto the Internet...it was about 2001. I was in the tail-end of a relationship that was emotionally, verbally, mentally...abusive all around. I was home with family by 2002. In 2001...I did the basics. I researched fun things, educational things, trivia and facts. I interacted in the occasional chat room, but mostly just IM with family and friends. My TRUE entry into the social media scene was around 2004/2005. I began interacting with people via AOL...and then eventually, MySpace.

MySpace...the place where I learned how to post graphics on people's pages in lieu of greetings. The place where I learned about relationship drama. The place where I learned to "blog" in the way of posting my thoughts. Then there was Yahoo 360...a now defunct social site that truly brought out the blogger in me. It's where I shared my poetry, my feelings, where I began writing erotica and where I fell in love. By then...it was 2006 and I'd already experienced an Internet loon...who was being two people. One with me and one with my own sister. At some point, he became harassing and we even wondered if he was as far away as he said he was. ::shivers::

I began mixing my pancake batter. I'd already begun making my coffee and the griddle was heating. I was whisking and talking aloud. "That is where I learned to share myself blindly...no thought process as to whether the person was trustworthy. Just e-sharing myself with potential lunatics..."

I began to see a lot of what has become commonplace in this age of fast and blind information. I saw how even though the Internet has played Cupid successfully, and even brought people their best friends and reunions with long-lost family...it's flip side is dark and precarious.

I realized that because "meeting" someone has changed from bumping into them in the store...to bypassing someone in conversation on a mutual friend's Facebook page...we're disconnected. Even while connecting...we're disconnected. We're desensitized to the concept of intimacy and tangibility. Tangibility, believe it or not is a factor in personal responsibility and accountability. If someone doesn't see someone in their daily brick and mortar...they at times can dismiss them callously without considering their impact. I've done it. I'm sure I have. It's inevitable that whilst on this "thing"...we learn to "delete" and "block" instead of confront and deal. We learn to text body shots and body parts...instead of being in someone's personal space and allowing someone to undress you properly. We learn to require proof, that someone is who they say they are...but, also require videos and cam shows to sate our instant desires. Sometimes without properly introducing ourselves and figuring out who someone is on the inside. If they have body issues or not. If they're religious and against such shows of physicality. Before knowing someone...we've already required pics, vids and cam time. I also realized that I came into the discovery of social media at a very tender time in my life. The last place a formerly abused woman, still working on building up her self-esteem, love and worth needed to be...was on the Internet. Bouncing, flailing and struggling in the shark-infested waters of booty call central. Where people can pretend to be whomever they like. Where they can pretend to have what it takes to love you...or hell, even visit you. I shouldn't have been here then...but, then that's not true. I was exactly where I needed to be to learn the lessons I did. It was either then or now. I'm glad it was then.

I was in the middle of plating my pancakes...butter sliding off, as I chased it with my fork's tines. I smell my coffee awaiting me and I am glad that I'm in the place I am. I'm grateful that I found my way BACK to being the woman who doesn't easily cave into a man's requests anymore. I did once. I thought that's what we do online. We get to know each other through the distance by giving each other something "to tide us over" until we meet. I've met no one. Not really. The ones I loved, I've never seen. Guess what? They preferred tangibility over the intangible infatuation attached to the idea of who I may be to them. I'm not even mad [anymore], but as I navigate my way out of my 30's and stand on the precipice of 40...I understand who I am in totality.

I sit here...pancakes gone, coffee cold and typing this...proud that I sent that dude from yesterday OUT of my damn inbox. He befriended me a few weeks ago because our mutual friend shared my pic on her page. I was bombarded with all of the "OMG you're so beautifuls" "GOOD LORD...what it must feel like to lie in your arms"...and I cringed. I cringed in embarrassment for him...that he was doing what he'd learned to do via the Internet. The place where you're asked perpetually, "What's on your mind?". The place where you can commentate willy-nilly on people's lives, looks and likes without considering if your opinion is asked, required or respected.

I felt badly for him for that SPLIT second before I told his ass that I don't do videos or pics...especially for someone I don't know. I also nicely asked him to speak to me using my name and not "baby", "dear", or any other term of endearment...for he SURELY cannot be endeared to me simply because he thinks I'm beautiful.

What the Internet taught me...is that just because everyone's doing it and it's socially and widely acceptable...doesn't mean you should do it. It doesn't work for everyone. I'm a woman who requires touch, consideration, respect and who longs to be cherished by someone who couldn't care less about my online persona. I've learned, that I could teach the Internet a thing or two. ;)

I also realized...the thoughts didn't come from "nowhere". It was sitting right there...underneath my skin like a rash. I'm glad I could get it out. Sheesh. I can relax now. lol

I Don't Wanna

First of all...hi. lol It's been a long time.

Now. I was sitting here thinking on my current state of mind. The understanding or seemingly, acceptance...that I'm single and shall remain that way for a long time. Maybe even forever.

I told my sister today that I simply don't see myself being in a relationship. In my 39 years, not ONE relationship was substantially good for a prolonged period of time. You know? How folks get in a relationship and have some good years and then something happens or just time passes and shit changes? Nope. Either the trouble began early in small, nagging ways...or it started out on the wrong foot...a few months into it. The endings...always the kind that leave a mark. I've never really had one guy leave right...if there is such a thing. I DO know that once they've left...they're gone. That's a good thing, I've deduced...because I don't need no fool coming back and lying about how he's changed when he really just misses the sex or the mind fuck or whatever.

Anyway...as I was having these thoughts...they got deeper. I began to think on the sexual end of things (hence, why I've taken to blogging this under Passion's Fruit and not the Kaleidoscope). I realized that not only don't I want a dude that's possibly gonna start lying, cheating, trying to change and/or control me...but, I don't wanna have sex with anyone. Not really. If I could get it where it was straight sex and no strings, I STILL wouldn't want it. I don't want to relearn someone's body, someone's likes and dislikes. I don't want the pressure of having to be a sexual acrobat, a head-ologist, a kinky dominatrix, a nympho, etc. I don't want to have to accommodate his package's slight with the tightness of my muscles. I don't wanna have to tell him he sucks...or can't. O_O I don't want to have to deal with someone who can't kiss, or doesn't know that I like extra attention paid to my breasts. I don't want to have to learn to like the taste of him, or deal with taco meat, or a number of other nuances that take place in the bedroom.

I feel totally over the concept of being connected to another body or soul. I don't want to talk dirty, I don't wanna dress sexy for him, I don't want to worry if my hair looks nice, I don't want to deal with if I should poot around him yet, or smell his dutch ovens...I don't wanna!

To think...ME..."Kween of Love"...is over it. The woman who used to dream of love, marriage, children, the home, the solid union with her best friend...her being his freak and his only...is over it. I couldn't give an iota of a fuck about a dude right now. Don't get me wrong. I'm nice to guys. Guys smile and say hi...I smile and say hi back. I'll even flirt. I just don't need anything past that. I don't know if that's a good thing...that I'm happy being free of that responsibility...but, it's how I feel. I love being single and not having to worry about what he's doing, with whom and where. I want to be free of that. I LOVE being free of that. All of the details of Facebook status, rings, moving in, blah blah blah! I don't need it.

I suppose, that if it's meant...I mean God says, "Here my child...he is for YOU and you only." it'll be done. Unless I miss that opportunity by feeling how I do currently. ::shrugs::

Whoever he is...has to be AMAZING enough to reach me where I am. Until then, I'm happy with friends and family and just being blessed in the day to day. Maybe it's a good thing that I've lost sight of the "dream"...because maybe then, when it's my time...the dream will be a reality that I couldn't have ever asked for or envisioned.

Until then...I don't wanna.