Beast of a Burden

Some of this content may be triggering and/or explicit. 

Hypersexuality is a beast of a burden. For the past year, I’ve been doing well in controlling my hypersexuality by not having sex by seeking self-pleasure, fantasies, and copious amount of porn instead. Oh, yeah! And Ben & Jerry’s too! Well, that changed a couple of days ago. I finally saw Fire after an entire year. I was able to turn him a way a couple of times but the craving was still there. A sista was backed up and needed to unclog her drain!

After days of texting back and forth, I decided to see him. I greeted him at the door in a satin robe and white laces panties that he requested. He kissed on my neck and I undressed before him. Then I dropped to my knees and took him in my mouth. The sex was just as raw and intense as I remembered. About halfway through the session, something in me switched. I became maniac. I assumed it was ecstasy initially but now I know that it wasn’t. He began to tell me during sex that when he first saw he had to go to the bathroom and jack off because my big breasts were such a turn on. Ordinarily I wouldn’t engage such a statement but I wanted to know more. “Tell me more,” I said as I thrust him deeper inside of me.

“Those big titties turned me on so much I wanted to take you behind the building and rape the hell out of you!”

Instead of the side eye or an “Oh no you didn’t just say that!” I responded “Oh yeah!!! Rape me!!!”

“Next time I’ll bring a fake knife and pretend to rape you.”

I began to laugh manically.

Who gets turned on or laugh about being raped? I was a rape victim for Pete’s sake!

Afterwards he showed me pics of well endowed black women on his phone and I had no qualms looking at them. Before he left he said that he wanted us to sexually exclusive. He claims I’m the only woman he’s been with sexually since we’ve met but I don’t believe it. I told him that I wouldn’t sleep with anyone else. I don’t know why I agreed to the arrangement. It’s not like he’s my boyfriend or buys my lavish gifts! We haven’t even been on an official date! I didn’t hold up my end on the “bargain” though. The beast took over. I wanted more. My pussy was sore and I still wanted more. I felt like a bottomless pit.

Several hours later I sent a nude pic to Soothed. He told me that I was beautiful and that he missed me. Those words rushed through my veins and felt like glitter. I felt so sparkly on the inside.

“What do you miss about me?” I said in an attempt to fish for more compliments.

“I miss your comfortable presence. I miss your hugs and your laugh. I miss how easy it is to hang out with you. I miss how silly you get with wine. I miss your boobs and your orgasms and your warm body under my fingers.”

His response sound like it came from a chick flick. The only thing missing was an epic kiss in the pouring rain. More glitter rushed into my veins. I needed to release all this DAMN glitter! He asked if he could come over and cuddle. Cuddle is the equivalent of Netflix and Chill in my opinion. We cuddled for about ten minutes before he began massaging me. He traced his fingers all over my body. His touch felt like fire and I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Taste me. Please taste me,” I said desperately as I lowered his head. And for a few hours we caressed and tasted each other. When it was all over I could feel the glitter dancing on my clitoris. I still wanted more!

He spent the night and we got the chance to actually cuddle. I felt so safe in his arms. The next day as he embraced me I said, “You comfort me a lot. Maybe it’s the hugs.”

He looked me deep in my eyes and said “You mean a lot to me.”

Last night I rolled over in bed hoping to feel him there. I’m afraid that might happen again tonight…

Side Chick Approved?

Disclaimer: I may sound petty and whiny but it’ my blog. I can be petty and whiny if I want to.

For the past couple of years I have noticed that the men I was involved with sexually or otherwise are now in stable relationships with other women. At first I did not give a damn but lately, it has been doing something to my spirit y’all. The One Who Loves To Text, The One Who Was My Lawyer, The One Who Is Special, and The One Who Was Too Young are now parading their relationships for all of Facebook to see.  I find this peculiar because half of these guys claimed that they didn’t want Facebook in their business when we were involved. Things that make you go hmm.

Anywho…a particular incident had an effect on me and it came from somewhere I least expected. For the past year or so, Young and I have been constant contact. He claimed that he was single and that he wanted me to be his boo. Of course I did not take him too seriously. I won’t fake the funk; a part of me liked the attention. After our horrible sexual encounter, I did not feel the need the have sex with him again. That sure didn’t stop him from trying though! A part of me found his persistence somewhat endearing. It made me feel desired.

To make a long story short, I saw that he recently got engaged to his girlfriend on Facebook. Yep. Girlfriend. It turned out he had one the entire time.  There he was on bended knee proposing to a dainty petite woman as their closest friends look on.  Soon to follow were pics of her showing off her ring which was pretty damn gorgeous by the way.

Jealousy started to set in. Why was she the type of chick that a man wanted to marry? Furthermore, why was I the type of chick that guys wanted to fool around with secretly?  Was I not pretty enough? Was I too fat? Too mousy? Just a wet hole and nothing more? All of these self-defeating thoughts and more swam in my head. Why was this affecting me so much?! I don’t even like this dude romantically. I’m still gaga over The One Who Is a Silver Fox!

A few days later, Young had the nerve to contact me via text message.


Young: I want to take you out to breakfast.

Me: I’m pretty sure your fiancée wouldn’t like that. You’ve been acting like you didn’t have someone the whole time.



Young: Lol you can be my side boo if you like. I’ll pay you.

Me: I’ll pass. I don’t want to be someone’s dirty little secret. I don’t want to be a side boo, chick, bitch, pussy, etc. Call me silly but I’d like to think that I deserve more than that.

Young: You do tho.

Young: I’ll still buy you breakfast lol.

Me: Thanks but no thanks.

I don’t know why I even replied to his text anyway. Perhaps I was looking for a “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about my fiancee” apology.  I definitely wasn’t looking for a “You can be my side chick and I’ll pay you like a hooker” type of ish.

It is not the fact that he got engaged per se. It’s a combination of things. It seems like dudes are by passing me like I have Ebola when it comes to relationships. I’m 35, childless, and sleep alone every damn night. Am I not a fucking catch? A sista can not live on dick alone.

I’m either faced with unrequited love or attract dudes who want a side chick. Do I have “Side Chick Approved” stamped on my forehead? I can not say that I’m completely faultless though; I let men treat me this way for far too long. Perhaps I didn’t think I was worthy to receive more. Sigh. At this point, I’m just done. So done.