Released

I leave for the weekend and you decided to turn around
Do your thing
Not give a fuck
And let this drown
Goddamn, I knew this time would come
Didn’t know for how long it was going to last
But I know now
Deleting your apps so your ex won’t suspect shit
I dreamt about that
I told you I was a witch
And that I’m not a bitch to fuck with
Ain’t giving you your stupid jacket back
Don’t even trynna call to come get it
It’ll be far gone, cuz I’m gonna wear it
That’ll be like a trophy and I’ll wear it nicely
It’s a Levis so it was quite pricey
Called you and you hung up the phone
Fuck you, nigga!
Just go back to yo’ momma’s home!
Daddy issues fucked you up, you ain’t far from that
You turned out to be just like your dad
Got yourself lookin’ in the mirror with his face starin’ right back
Do whatever you want
Cuz’ I officially don’t give a fuck
You wanted a pity party, well now you’ll have one
Boo-hoo, R2! I feel so bad for you!
Poor baby, you got so much on your table!
Your head spinning so fast you just can’t be stable!
I feel so sick…
The only good thing ’bout you was your big ass dick
But like that one I’ve had plenty
I know I deserve much better
But now for a fact I know that you’re really not that clever
Fuck this shit!
I’m tired writing about this bitch
You just like fucking Kanye
And I’ll be like Amber Rose
Good luck finding someone that’ll fuck and lick your ass-hole
Peace out
I’m out
Forget ’bout me too
I won’t be around

 

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HIM

I crave him like no one before
He’s like a forbidden fruit
Exactly like Adam and Eve’s
Too much to not get teased
Making me purr without even a touch
Oh god, give me him, I want him so much
This celibacy is killing me
He’s the perfect prey, and I’m truly feeling him
We are on each others destiny, I definitely believe in it
Praying every night for that dick to be mine
Oh my, everything would be so divine
White mountains on every corner of the room
Fat blunt making it look like Doom
But we already used to it because bad behaviour is what rules
He’s a bad boy, I know it
I can feel it and almost taste it
Sour vodka tonic
I can already picture it
Face down, ass up, just the way he likes to fuck
White lines down my spine
Roll that Benjimen, baby, you know how I ride
Inhale and pull my hair while I moan,
Don’t make this moment fold
Be mine, oh baby, be mine
Be mine for at least one time
Let me taste you and see how you feel like
My thighs call out your name,
Desiring for that future moment to stay
I picture it over and over in my head,
And honey, it’s time to play.

Imprisoned Mind

Do I still think about him? Oh, every day.
Every single day his memory attacks my brain, and if I don’t snap out of it, it’s like I’m falling in an endless pit swalloing me whole.
Sometimes when I’m driving, it just hits me and I start screaming from the top of my lungs to get it all out, if I don’t do so I just start sobbing uncontrollably.
I just keep remembering the good times, because that’s what we mostly had together, a good damn time.
Every heart break makes me lose a little faith for what could possibly be out there for me. I close the door on people, but most of all, I close the door on myself.
When will this be over? I don’t know…I don’t even know if I want it to be over.
I dream of him about every three weeks, dreams where I go looking after him wanting to stay with me. But he doesn’t, not even in my dreams he chooses me. He rejects me and it kills me.
The thing is that we didn’t have a chance to say goodbye. The last time I saw him, he was flipping me off with both hands walking the opposite way on puddle filled alley. The last words that I heard from him were “I can’t talk, they’ll throw me in jail” through the phone. We just stayed there for a minute listening to each others breaths.
But until this day, I wonder; Does he think of me the way I think of him? Does he remember me the way I remember him? Does he cherish the good times just like I do? Does he feel some kind of guilt? Some kind of remorse?
These are the questions that come to mind when I end up in that self-destructing turbine.
Then, forcefully, I think about the things that he did to me, the other girl, that last day, all of that just to make it go away.

Fuck Your V-Day

I woke up at seven, got up and started getting ready for work. Nothing better than having my mom telling me shit about how I don’t do anything in my life, great. That was a hellavuh good morning for me. Went crying to my room and only gave myself four minutes to do so. After that, I realized that I wasn’t crying because of the shit my mom told me just then, but because I realized it has been a year already since I move back to San Diego since I left Oregon, since I left the one that I thought was ‘it’. My mind didn’t know it, but my heart did (or subconcious, whatevs). I’m pretty sure I’m not the only once that has experienced this kind of situation.

Since elementary, I remember getting so excited for Valentine’s, just going to the store to buy candy and the most awesome V-cards there were out there to hand out to my classmates.
At first it didn’t hurt, seeing that most of my female classmates would receive anonymous letters from guys declaring their love to them, roses and fancy chocolate being delivered. It didn’t hurt because I would think to myself “Next year…”. “Next year” never happened to me. But who am I to blame? Really? Who would do that? Who would be the poor bastard to like a chubby, four-eyed girl with a slick back ponytail like me? No one. I never had a secret Valentine, or just a Valentine for what matters. Just grew up hopeless in that department. A big ass hopeless romantic.

I was bullied for my physical appearance growing up, since first grade of Elementary, all the way up through High School. From how I would pronounce my “ch”, how my glasses were so big and thick, the extra pounds on me, and not really having a style, well, pretty much for everything. Girls would talk to me behind my back and boys would laugh right in front of my face. And I really didn’t understand why, why was I the target of so many people. Fortunately that didn’t make me change the way I was, kind.
Everything that I’ve been through has made me who I am right now. Yeah, I may be read like a female version of a Don Juan, but I do have feelings. I’ve had very nice bonds with my men, and also shitty experiences/feelings with them as well. Life has taught me to be a cabrona. It has its advantages and disadvantages, and they are usually in two extreme opposite poles.

That’s how I grew up disliking Valentine’s Day. I think I’ve only celebrated Valentine’s three times, and that was because I was dating my first boyfriend (around five years ago). Nothing before that, and still, nothing after that. I could say that I could care less, but damn, it looks like it feels hella nice. *Exhale slowly* Oh well, that’s life and I can’t do anything about it. Fuck everything and everyone, especially you, Cupid! You keep freaking missing!

 

 

Hit and Quit

There are definitely situations where you just have to apply the “hit and quit” motto. Something that I should’ve kept letting be.

I was swiping, mostly left, on Tinder when I bumped into an old lover of mine. We met in Tecate, BC in a music/bike event about three years ago. I thought he was cute as fuck, even with his both upper front teeth chipped. We started chatting and made plans to go see Afroman play at The Holding Company (cool joint, nice hippies). I got there, and he was accompanied with two friends on the front patio.
I finished my cigarette before going in, passed security and went up to him and gave him a big hug. The last time we saw each other was about three years ago. He looked exactly the same, definitely older, but the same. We had a couple of beers together at the venue, danced and sang away along with Afroman. Joints were being passed out among the crowd, everyone was feeling it and having a great time.
Right after the show, that’s when everything started going down hill; believe me, it became a pretty steep one really darn quick. We started walking towards my car, when he decided to ride his skateboard and do some sharp tuns along the sidewalk. He almost ended up bursting a window from a shop, made a total fool of himself…I was so embarrassed because there were a lot of people out there…I just kept walking.
We got to his place, had some more beers, talked, smoked wax and fucked. I was having a good time, finally,  until after making out, his stomach decided to return everything that he put in…EVERY-FUCKING-THING. I passed out, just let him and his situation alone.
Next morning I woke up early, as usual. Sneaked out of the bed, grabbed my clothes and went to the restroom and changed clothes. Went back to get my vans and, for my surprise, one was way heavier than the other…Yup, just exactly what you’re imagining…it was covered and filled with puke. I don’t know what the fuck he ate the night before, but it looked like a big freaking rotten cake inside. I didn’t know whether to throw them away , clean them or kill him. Ended up going with the second choice and almost puked myself during the process.
Went back to the restroom and rinsed them, shit wouldn’t stop coming out from there. It was so gross! Like, for real, who pukes into a shoe? At this point I don’t even know if he did it on purpose, because he is kind of a weirdo..
After “dealing” with that mess, I grabbed all of my belongings and poked his arm very lightly to say goodbye; didn’t actually want to say goodbye, just thought that way I could say I tried.
As soon as I walked out the door, I ran the fuck out of there! OMG! Dude! Never again!
I immediately contacted my main dick, drove as fast as I could to my currently number one guy. On my way there, I was just thinking how much I regretted meeting up with him. Like, why did I do it, you know? I just shouldn’t have even gotten in contact with him on the first place. Should’ve just let it be.
Lesson learned though, the stinky, disgusting way. If things don’t go right, if for whatever reason you stopped talking to an ex-lover, LEAVE IT THAT WAY! It wasn’t meant to be for you to keep fucking him/her, don’t waste your time. Just avoid it, okay? (Unless you’re really horny) Not even worth it!

Ps. FYI, My vans survived.

Entretien

-So what’s your blog really about?
My blog is about myself, my life, my experiences. The good, the bad, and the ugly.
It’s about the rough patches that I’ve been through, dating, and sex (so far). I will be touching delicate and very personal points in the near future.
But believe it or not, sometimes it’s not that easy to do, you know? Because I have to “relive” everything to be able to write it.

-What is it that you want to show the world? Cause I mean, it’s open to the public.
Believe me, it’s something that I really thought about it through. I know that my topics aren’t everyone’s cup of tea, I know that they’re out there.
I find it very therapeutic to write about the things that I’ve been through, and it has been nice to connect with people that have been through the same. It’s very rewarding when I get to read messages from my readers.

-I see that you touch really personal points, are you afraid of judgement, or any backlashes from the people that you’ve written about?
No, I’m not afraid of judgement. It’s something that people will do whether you do good or wrong. The only person that should be able to judge you, it’s yourself only. Yes, I am just a little bit worried, but I am careful about it. The names that I’ve used aren’t theirs,  I do keep their identity safe.
Another thing that I’m kind of worried about is if I start dating someone, and that person reads my blog,  that it would make him insecure.

-Are your next blog posts are going to be only about sex?
No, not everything is about sex. I will keep writing about it, but it’s not the main point of my blog. It’s funny, since the last blog post that was uploaded, I’ve been receiving messages from guys wanting to hook up. But that’s the thing with me, I like the hunt, I like the story behind it, I like to win my prize.
No, you won’t be on my blog! I’m not gonna write about your cock! Sorry…just wanted to make that clear.

-Do you take any relationship seriously? Have you been in any serious relationships before?
Yeah, when they’re meant to be. I’m not a relationship kind of girl. I don’t like to jump into them because I’m bored or because I feel alone. On the contrary, I like my solitude and freedom a lot.
And yes, I’ve been in two serious relationships, one lasted over two years, and the other one, well, I really thought he was the one but shit happens. You can read  about how that on my first blog posts on my page.

Lemme tell ya’ something, just to leave everything clear, when I’m in a relationship, I give my all. I’m the kind of girl that’ll cook for you everyday, pour you a beer when you get back from work, your ride or die, just have eyes for you and no one else. Now that’s me in a relationship. Me being single? That’s a different story.

-Are you looking to be in a relationship right now?
Looking? No… How sad that would be, looking for love. Ew, no…
If something happens, great. If it doesn’t happen, well, NEXT!. I don’t like pressuring things. I like to go with the flow. Besides, I’m picky as fuck, so there’s that.

-What will happen to your blog once you do so? Will you keep writing?
Yes, I’ll keep writing. I have plenty to write about.

-So, how is your writing process? How is it that you decide which story to write about? In this case, about men.
Mmmm..So the thing about me, isn’t to see how many men I fuck, no. It’s mostly the story behind it. How I got him, the connection that we had spiritually and physically. There has to be excitement, sparks, lust! Those are the stories that I truly find worth sharing with everyone. I don’t mind making fun of myself either, it’s just the way I am, the way I always have been.

-My final question. What is your type of men?
My type? I don’t think I have one. One thing I’ll tell ya’, I’m not a chubby chaser. The only one that can be chubby here is me! I don’t know, I’ve only been attracted to one chubby guy, right now he’s skinny as hell though. But yeah, I think that would be the only thing, I like them from thin to average I guess, but that’s the only thing psychically.
Personality wise, I like them to be assertive, confident, hard working, and adventurous.

 

 

 

I could get addicted to you.

We finally got there, after a very long drive on the saturated freeway. Entered to the back part of the venue where the concert was taking place and headed right to the front on the left side. The lights were bright, and as soon as the two lights that were blinding my eyes moved away, I saw him.  There he ways, rocking away on stage. Didn’t mind him though, knowing that his woman was somewhere on the back or side watching him, and probably trying to see who was eyeballing him. Right after the set ended, I went to the bar next door to get a drink. Caught up with some friends, and headed back to the venue. As soon as I crossed the gate, what a coincidence, he was walking towards my way with his girl on his arm. I did’t look, I just kept doing my thing and kept walking. I danced and sang the whole time the main band was playing. My eyes were closed while I was moving to the rhythm of the music, looked up and saw him across the stage, without her this time. I could just feel him watching me.
The concert ended and the group that I was with and I jumped back to the bar next door and got a couple of more drinks. That’s when he confirmed me that she was gone for the night, when I looked at my phone and saw a missed call from him. I just texted him back “bar next door”, gave him the green light on my side as well. Knew he wanted me to go after him, but this time, I wanted him to go after me. Everyone had their buzz on and were ready to keep partying.
He was planning to go back home, so I left to the hotel with a friend of ours. I didn’t have any expectations for that night, so I wasn’t hoping for him to go party at the hotel. I get off from my friends car, got my purse and started walking towards the room, and there he was again with the rest of the crew. Half a smirk appeared on my face because at that moment I knew that  I won, that we won (again).
Got in the room, placed the beers in the mini-fridge, and threw the bag of coke and weed on the table. Party was set and going, lines were being snorted. We still kept our distance; he was hanging on the other side of the room, then he got up and got his stash out and prepared some lines on another table. I went up to him and started a conversation, he offered me some and I took some. The way that he got me out of that hotel was by telling our friend, the one that got the room,and I if we wanted to keep partying at his place. Got my things and headed out. Lighted up a cigarette, turned around and noticed that it was only going to be the two of us. He called for a cab, we took off and arrived to his apartment. Started smoking out of an apple while he was getting some white lines ready along the coffee table.

It has taken me a while writing this, just keep getting interrupted with those hot, vivid memories. Okay, focus girl, focus.

Music was playing on the background, got comfortable on the sofa, he sat next to me, placed his arm around me as I leaned in.  Ours lips touched and tongues brushed. Heart rates started rising… I turned to face him, he hold my hand and leaded me to get on top of him, locked him down on the couch with my thighs around his. Placed my hands on his shoulders, and began kissing and giving gentle licks on his neck. Started from the bottom and went up to his ear tracing the way with the tip of my tongue. Took his earlobe and sucked it for a little while. Felt his body shiver and his hands moving to my ass. He slipped his hands between my legs and started caressing my pussy. Breaths were getting heavier and clothes were getting off. We took the situation to the bedroom, laid him down and got on top of him again, now I started from his earlobe down to his shoulders, took his shirt off, kept going down while kissing his chest, licking his stomach and lightly biting his hip bones. Looked up and he was looking back, I had his complete attention. Looked back down, unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned of his pants, looked back again, and he was still with me, paying close attention to everything I was doing. Unzipped him and went down.
There are two types of guys while they’re getting blown; the ones that look away and/or close their eyes throughout most of the act, and the visual ones, like him. It doesn’t make me uncomfortable, it makes me feel sexy. I would look up at him when I was down, see him with his mouth slightly open and just taking everything in, or wait, that was me. There I am, face down and ass up between his legs. I lift my torso, and crawled towards him like a kitty cat while making eye contact. Got back on top of him and we started dry humping, building up anticipation.
Line after line, kiss after kiss, fuck after fuck. That’s how five hours of our night went. It was just like a movie. I couldn’t get enough of him, and he couldn’t get enough of me. You know those kisses where you barely touch your lips? It’s more like an exchanging of breaths? Those I find very passionate, that simple act that makes you feel a strong connection with the person your with, as if you were one.
I tried going to sleep for a little, but he wouldn’t let me. He would start touching my butt and kissing my neck, getting me hornier and hornier.
“How many times can I fuck you before I leave?”
“As many time as you want, baby.”
He knows exactly where to touch me and how to talk to me. He accepts me as I am, as I do to him. He worships my body just as I do his. He loves it when I dance for him, and I do it with pleasure. I’m there to fulfill his dreams and needs, and do it willingly.
He sits down on the edge of his bed while I twerk for him on the carpet floor facing away  while he watches and masturbates. He fucks me there again in a way that I can’t move. He’s the one that makes me moan and wet the most. I love it. I squirm. I cum.
I get up and get on the bed, he places me on the edge so I that I can keep dancing for him. I thought he was standing behind me, but when I looked around, he was on his knees, having the full view of my plumped pussy and asshole. Damn, he loves it, and I love that he does. His arousal turns me on.

Unfortunately we only had one night for each other. I’ve been craving him since I got my foot out of his apartment. My mind has been busy reliving everything that happened that night. Like a porn movie left on replay.
He said that this couldn’t happen anymore because his consciousness started catching up to him, and I respect that.

But I know that he’ll be back.

They always come back.