As I continue to wage war with the forces of evil which lie within I have developed a strategy which aims to keep me free from absolute damnation, at least for the time being. I have determined that sex is a big sin...my hunger for same and the ungodly thoughts which are a part will continue to engulf me for the time so I will, in order to not have sex, punish those who read me here instead of putting my thoughts into action.
That said, an issue occupied my mind on Saturday - Do Society Men Know how to Lay Pipe?
I mean the 21 families of Jamaica types and their darker complexion though equally hoity CEO types. Don't get me wrong, every girl likes the perk of being with a man with means- the status , the lifestyle, the honey gold complexion children. They provide whatever the image of wealth is from time to time, whether Range Rovers in the driveway, the Norbrook residence, Tea at Terra Nova to show off the boob job done in Cuba to the girls, a snapshot of you and him on Page 2 of the Jamaica Observer, whatever the status symbol at the time. But can they satisfy that raging hunger in your core...Can they touch the root of you...Can they FUCK?
I know they can rock your body like the ebb and flow of the waves with a touch of the lips and tongue...I know they can play a good game and intrigue the mind, sweeping you away in a whirlwind of seeming interest (sometimes to your delight)...but can they use the windowsill, wall, settee arm, stove handle, anything handy to get the leverage necessary to dumb the dick so deep inside you, you scuffle visibly and in your mind with the feeling to run from the pain or stay for the pleasure...Can they FUCK?
Can they throw one leg over their shoulder and balance with their hand at the back of the other knee and slide in inch after glorious inch of pulsating flesh into your core, urging your volcanic response...Can they Stand up to a Hot Pussy?
Can they give your ass a couple slaps before almost breaking your back to position you and riveting his 8 inches into your six, touching the womb and then tell you to wine on it? Can he make you wet enough to even attempt?
Laying pipe is an art that it seems a man has to either be born in poverty, or the lower middle class to inculcate. A certain coarseness of spirit and hands is required that the middle and upper classes would never expose themselves enough to hone.
Can he rub his dick across your face as he watches you suck his balls?
Can he get that scowl on his face when he knows he's doing a good job and has you on the brink of a breakthrough, knowing that he himself is about to break, can he stop himself from letting you win by thrusting even harder in?
Can he tief a piece pon the road side on the way to country or, if you're really lucky, pond di roadside inna town with all the external threats to his and your person? (Exciting). Can he handle the police if they happen along?
Can he touch that spot while you're flat on your stomach and jab until you scream fuuuck, and then, can he sen'-on one or two more inches just to prove his point, while commanding you not to run ...can he fuck out your surrender?
Can they? Can they really?
I was tempted to put a poll at the bottom of the page to get a real idea on this one, but I doubt I have very many none male readers, and every Jamaican man thinks he's a cocksman (despite class borders) so the picture would definitely be distorted.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Not Business as Usual:(
My commitment is waning, but I go on.... it didn't help the other night to go out to a late dinner in Port Royal. Call it the moon, beautiful star filled sky, the sound of waves lapping the sea shore, but I was intoxicated, and it proved almost disastrous for my faith.
A bredren, who my stubbornness and his had placed at odds as far as the East from the West, bit the bullet and sent me a text "I miss you...". A weak girl can't withstand that kinda pressure, and knowing him to not be the type to 'give in', he melted my barrier.
I left work at 7..ish and we met at 8:30..ish....damn he looked good. Golden brown skin, arms bulging, cigarette separating long skillful fingers, his locks of hair beneath a simple black cap...he was naturally sexy. I like to drink him in mostly, he is so striking to me....jeans hugging, accentuating worthy package:) and a shirt that testifies to the hard work done in the gym....he was all man, and for the rest of the night, he could be all mine...the prospect was....exhilarating.
I like this bredren cause we always seem able to talk....quite naturally....there is no emotional issues between us....he's not my man, I'm not his girl, we rarely see eye to eye on issues but, we can always meet in the middle...surrender to 'done di argument' in the interest of bredrendom....he's my arm candy, and I love the attention he gets when we're out.
Over steam fish and steam bammy we chatted about the month past, what we were up to, a possible Reggae Sumfest date and the follies of the West Indies Cricket Board and the Players Association (WIPA)....a little celebration of the Australia loss to England crept in as well, Usian's 7.89 in pouring rain....Church and current affairs too, though I lack the constitution for meaningful discussion of these issues, its depressing especially the imminent return to the IMF.
In general, it was pleasant. A wholesome and irie vibe, until we went for a walk on the beach..... I've always been fascinated by the sea at night, moon glistening in the water, the odd fish or two leaping out to catch a glimpse of dry land....oh how I wish I could paint. The tantalizing allure of the darkness, a blanket to your actions and the wind and waves a mussle for your moans...its a good place to be. We talked about the ill-fated call which led to our taking a step back, he accused me of being too feisty (with a smile) and I decided to show him how rude a girl who had'nt been touched by a man in almost two months could really get.
The cool summer night breeze on my face, his firm tongue in my mouth..my cold hands seeking warmth in his pants, his hands groping my ass and breasts.....nipples set free against his hard chest, our temperatures rising....his fixed gaze as he fell to his knees and unbuttoned my jeans, it came down with surprising ease (thought I 'd chosen the right gear to avoid a situation like that:) Now, mostly I like to serve, but with that kinda treatment I relaxed in my role as receiver....with focused eyes he seemingly stripped the remaining fabric cover from my V and tasted the lust drenched flesh through the thin cotton. Hot red blood raged through my veins and goose pimples created a blanket on my skin......I wanted him.
In the back of my mind I heard the Holy Spirit whisper.."Stop my Child"...but I was unable to comply...how easy it would be to lay back and just watch him feed...I've been a good girl thus far, why couldn't I be his treat....my thoughts rambled wildly as warm juicy liquid flowed willingly from my core. My knees went weak when in response to me he covered my clit with his tongue and lips...teeth brushing the tender mound ever so lightly.....Could I really just give in? Another thought tiptoed across my mind as if not to disturb the moment....Could I just lay back on the sand and let him lick me under the moonlight...despite my doubts, despite reason, could I just succumb to the dark side...again?
Before I could decide he held back....." I just wanted to taste you"...and I was convinced that the Spirit had saved me from myself, through him. How great a God we serve.
A bredren, who my stubbornness and his had placed at odds as far as the East from the West, bit the bullet and sent me a text "I miss you...". A weak girl can't withstand that kinda pressure, and knowing him to not be the type to 'give in', he melted my barrier.
I left work at 7..ish and we met at 8:30..ish....damn he looked good. Golden brown skin, arms bulging, cigarette separating long skillful fingers, his locks of hair beneath a simple black cap...he was naturally sexy. I like to drink him in mostly, he is so striking to me....jeans hugging, accentuating worthy package:) and a shirt that testifies to the hard work done in the gym....he was all man, and for the rest of the night, he could be all mine...the prospect was....exhilarating.
I like this bredren cause we always seem able to talk....quite naturally....there is no emotional issues between us....he's not my man, I'm not his girl, we rarely see eye to eye on issues but, we can always meet in the middle...surrender to 'done di argument' in the interest of bredrendom....he's my arm candy, and I love the attention he gets when we're out.
Over steam fish and steam bammy we chatted about the month past, what we were up to, a possible Reggae Sumfest date and the follies of the West Indies Cricket Board and the Players Association (WIPA)....a little celebration of the Australia loss to England crept in as well, Usian's 7.89 in pouring rain....Church and current affairs too, though I lack the constitution for meaningful discussion of these issues, its depressing especially the imminent return to the IMF.
In general, it was pleasant. A wholesome and irie vibe, until we went for a walk on the beach..... I've always been fascinated by the sea at night, moon glistening in the water, the odd fish or two leaping out to catch a glimpse of dry land....oh how I wish I could paint. The tantalizing allure of the darkness, a blanket to your actions and the wind and waves a mussle for your moans...its a good place to be. We talked about the ill-fated call which led to our taking a step back, he accused me of being too feisty (with a smile) and I decided to show him how rude a girl who had'nt been touched by a man in almost two months could really get.
The cool summer night breeze on my face, his firm tongue in my mouth..my cold hands seeking warmth in his pants, his hands groping my ass and breasts.....nipples set free against his hard chest, our temperatures rising....his fixed gaze as he fell to his knees and unbuttoned my jeans, it came down with surprising ease (thought I 'd chosen the right gear to avoid a situation like that:) Now, mostly I like to serve, but with that kinda treatment I relaxed in my role as receiver....with focused eyes he seemingly stripped the remaining fabric cover from my V and tasted the lust drenched flesh through the thin cotton. Hot red blood raged through my veins and goose pimples created a blanket on my skin......I wanted him.
In the back of my mind I heard the Holy Spirit whisper.."Stop my Child"...but I was unable to comply...how easy it would be to lay back and just watch him feed...I've been a good girl thus far, why couldn't I be his treat....my thoughts rambled wildly as warm juicy liquid flowed willingly from my core. My knees went weak when in response to me he covered my clit with his tongue and lips...teeth brushing the tender mound ever so lightly.....Could I really just give in? Another thought tiptoed across my mind as if not to disturb the moment....Could I just lay back on the sand and let him lick me under the moonlight...despite my doubts, despite reason, could I just succumb to the dark side...again?
Before I could decide he held back....." I just wanted to taste you"...and I was convinced that the Spirit had saved me from myself, through him. How great a God we serve.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Good Morning
I paused this morning to give thanks and praises to the most High, Jah.... King of Kings, Lord of Lords... and its not Selassi I Rastafari...its the God of Moses, Daniel, David and Solomon.
In a rare moment I greeted the morning at 5:30 a.m. and headed to the great outdoors. Birds introduced and welcomed my presence with song, the bows of the coconut tree swayed ever so slightly in the light morning breeze and I was blessed with an ash blue sky, peacefully washing the land with hope. Aaahhh, such beauty...and because I have delusions of grandeur, I believe it was all done for me...to show me the mighty power of a Creator in whom I should repose absolute trust.
I spent an hour basking in the glory of it all, and watched as the light rose over the hill tops. With a whisper of good morning to God I headed inside to sate my need for fried dumplings, and callaloo and saltfish.
I encourage you all to give thanks to the father today...there must be one thing that you can give thanks for. Have a blessed day.
In a rare moment I greeted the morning at 5:30 a.m. and headed to the great outdoors. Birds introduced and welcomed my presence with song, the bows of the coconut tree swayed ever so slightly in the light morning breeze and I was blessed with an ash blue sky, peacefully washing the land with hope. Aaahhh, such beauty...and because I have delusions of grandeur, I believe it was all done for me...to show me the mighty power of a Creator in whom I should repose absolute trust.
I spent an hour basking in the glory of it all, and watched as the light rose over the hill tops. With a whisper of good morning to God I headed inside to sate my need for fried dumplings, and callaloo and saltfish.
I encourage you all to give thanks to the father today...there must be one thing that you can give thanks for. Have a blessed day.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Weekend and more....update
West Indies lost the Test:(
On Saturday I awoke with a very lazy spirit and the remnants of the headache the day before...it wasn't a good day. I twiddled my thumbs at home for as long as I could, but set about hitting the road to avoid yielding to my impure thoughts and temptation of the flesh....where was I going, who knows, I just needed air. On the 'driveout' I decided to hit Portmore to see if my God-daughter would oblige me with a smile and a hug...she didn't hug me but she smiled and it warmed my heart:)
Remembering my longing for fish and bammy on Thursday, we decided at 4ish to head to Hellshire for a dip....it was one of the most refreshing trips I had ever had. The white sand, salt water and energy of J'cans at leisure was just what my mind and soul needed to replenish itself.
There was little temptation on the beach, not too many hard bodies around (Thank God). We dipped and chatted and played with little miss until our bodies were saturated and then we played some more. The beach was much too populated so we opted to stay in the water until we were signalled for our meal. The fish, as usual, was fried just right, the bammy too and the pickle sauce, hot, spicy and ...mmm...mmm...good.
Sunday was spent fighting the usual demons but I was fortified by my church service in the morning...one of these days I hope to be as happy as the people in church, you know, those really grounded and rooted in God's word and love...its a happiness that I envy, but I know one day it will be mine.
On Monday I decided to be the early worm, cause the phone simply rings too much when work is in full swing for you to really get significant work done. I got in at 7 a.m. and completed a task I started late Friday, e-mailed it, and decided it was time for a little tea break (balance is critical in life). I settled into checking e-mails and the perfect opportunity for my hug and kiss on the forehead walked in....Thankfully work intervened but the thought danced whimsically through my mind.... I didn't want to send the wrong signals, cause I think we're back to a good enough working relationship, but he was right there, well sahven and looking pretty tasty....I weighed the options and figured I was mature enough to leave beg the hug and peck, without complicating issues....I'm a lover at heart, a sexula, sensual being and these weeks without a tender touch from a man were wreaking havoc on my sensitive spirit. I gave in to the vibe, and spent last night repenting cause I liked it... Sigh.
I'm still horny and dreaming of sweaty bodies moving to an innate pulsating rhythm, a man's tongue tasting, licking, lashing every contour of my body, breaking only to hear me beg for more..... but not as much anymore. One of these days I'll learn control.
On Saturday I awoke with a very lazy spirit and the remnants of the headache the day before...it wasn't a good day. I twiddled my thumbs at home for as long as I could, but set about hitting the road to avoid yielding to my impure thoughts and temptation of the flesh....where was I going, who knows, I just needed air. On the 'driveout' I decided to hit Portmore to see if my God-daughter would oblige me with a smile and a hug...she didn't hug me but she smiled and it warmed my heart:)
Remembering my longing for fish and bammy on Thursday, we decided at 4ish to head to Hellshire for a dip....it was one of the most refreshing trips I had ever had. The white sand, salt water and energy of J'cans at leisure was just what my mind and soul needed to replenish itself.
There was little temptation on the beach, not too many hard bodies around (Thank God). We dipped and chatted and played with little miss until our bodies were saturated and then we played some more. The beach was much too populated so we opted to stay in the water until we were signalled for our meal. The fish, as usual, was fried just right, the bammy too and the pickle sauce, hot, spicy and ...mmm...mmm...good.
Sunday was spent fighting the usual demons but I was fortified by my church service in the morning...one of these days I hope to be as happy as the people in church, you know, those really grounded and rooted in God's word and love...its a happiness that I envy, but I know one day it will be mine.
On Monday I decided to be the early worm, cause the phone simply rings too much when work is in full swing for you to really get significant work done. I got in at 7 a.m. and completed a task I started late Friday, e-mailed it, and decided it was time for a little tea break (balance is critical in life). I settled into checking e-mails and the perfect opportunity for my hug and kiss on the forehead walked in....Thankfully work intervened but the thought danced whimsically through my mind.... I didn't want to send the wrong signals, cause I think we're back to a good enough working relationship, but he was right there, well sahven and looking pretty tasty....I weighed the options and figured I was mature enough to leave beg the hug and peck, without complicating issues....I'm a lover at heart, a sexula, sensual being and these weeks without a tender touch from a man were wreaking havoc on my sensitive spirit. I gave in to the vibe, and spent last night repenting cause I liked it... Sigh.
I'm still horny and dreaming of sweaty bodies moving to an innate pulsating rhythm, a man's tongue tasting, licking, lashing every contour of my body, breaking only to hear me beg for more..... but not as much anymore. One of these days I'll learn control.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Blah feeling
My head is still splitting in two....I think I would be open to a hug and squeeze and a kiss on the forehead right now.....I promise not to rape the man who delivers it....really I do.
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