I was looking back through my blogs and didn’t realize it had been over a year since I shared some of my fucked up life (past or present) with you all. I keep getting emails, Facebook messages and Streamate messages from some of you awesome people; it definitely doesn’t feel like it has been so long.
My life has continued to be just as fucking amazing as it always has been.
The last time I updated, it was in the beginning of last year. My life has done about four 360 degree circles since then.
In February of last year I took a position as a project manager. I stepped away from my own LLC and branched into that company; I made them millions. I worked 12-16 hour days, seven days a week. I went into that company with the same mentality I go into any aspect of my life with… I was going to be the best. I kicked ass. I exhausted myself however, which again is a norm for me. In September I reached out to another local company in the same field. It was October that I took a better position with said new company. I am now happily kicking amazing ass within this corporation still.
I was in a “marriage” with a boy. I put marriage in quotations because it was no more of a marriage than playing house. I also refer to him as a boy because genuinely he really was. While he supported my slut ways, he was not grounded or mature enough to handle the hustle of all the grown up responsibilities in my life. I was always accepting of his closet gay urges, and really tried to work that shame out of him. I can’t really say anything bad about him. While I wasn’t happy with the lies he told to friends or family members about why we chose to separate, I understand he was trying to protect himself from the shame he would be made to feel from those very people. A mother who is your stereo typical fundamentalist christian hypocrite, and extended family from the same racist, prejudice web. The shame was too much for him as it is for most. We finalized our divorce in December and parted ways.
During the same time I transitioned from one company to my current position and separated from my gay husband, I received a long awaited settlement from my real marriage. It had taken since I filed for divorce in December of 2015, until October of 2019 for my ex husband to fulfill the divorce decree and get me the mediocre portion of retirement I was entitled to. It was this money that I was waiting on to purchase a home. I had went back and forth between rentals, houses my sugar daddy bought for me and flip houses until that point. I used the funds to put a hefty payment down on a solid brick home in the culdasac of a middle to upper class neighborhood. I know, I know… call me a sheep. Sigh. I wanted to have somewhere to call home. I wanted my three ass hole kids to have the same. So, here we are.
I have done a lot of scandalous shit since then. I have had a few one or two or three nights stands. I have crushed a few souls. I have been the one to break the seal on a few men and their capability to have an “arrangement”. I have even found a profound liking for a very young, young man; who still has a big part in my life and will enter into many stories to come. I haven’t slowed down, that’s for sure.
I look forward to sharing more recent stories with you and reminiscing on the old days. I would be really appreciative of any suggestions or requests on topics you may want me to write about. Please… what will make you happy?
In this post I can take it back just to last October. In between the career change I decided to take a much needed vacation. It wasn’t anything fancy. A cruise where we went to the same touristy locations, ate the half ass buffets and I got fucking sun burnt. I did however exceed my “endless drink” limit a couple of times that week and that is a god damn success my friends.
I became well acquainted with one of the bartenders on this cruise.
Now, for anyone who knows me even just a little; even through fantasies or porn, you can imagine where this is going.
Go ahead, I will wait while your imaginations run…
The first two or three nights on this cruise I would end my nights at the bar, on the Lido deck with this Jamaican bartender. I don’t know how I landed here each night or why this was my favorite spot, but there I sat. I would drink until late, chatting, flirting and being free. I sat and drank, while I watched other women trying so hard. There were two bartenders that worked this bar… the Jamaican and a young Caucasian kid from another country, with a swanky accent. I sat each night, even during the day some days, and I watched these sluts literally throwing themselves at these guys. I masturbated many of times wondering how many of them got their pussies filled and by which bartender.
About half way through this seven day cruise I submitted to the urge. I can remember this tall, sexy black man making me drinks and accepting every advance I threw his way. He was a professional himself in a sense. He had no clue who I was or where I came from, but I felt a chemistry between of us. We were both professionals.
It was this night that I sat, kid less, at the bar and completely yearning for his dick. I wasn’t coy, shy or anything in between. I wanted him, as all the other sluts had wanted him; but the difference is, I knew I was going to have him.
I had him.
He leaned against the counter closest to me and listened to me, listened to me talk about how much I wanted my pussy filled. When a customer would come for a drink he would slip away, mixing, pouring or whatever else with a smile on his face. We played this game for about an hour. I was his safe spot at the bar that he would slip back to and lend an open ear to me, listening while I made his cock rock hard. I knew I had him.
I leaned in, over the bar, pretending to need a straw or a napkin, who knows. I leaned in with my tits resting on the bar top and I whispered under my breath to him, “I want your cum.” I sat back down and continued to rub my clit on the bar stool as I waited.
It didn’t take but a matter of minutes. He had the other bartender covering his customers. He had me, eye to eye, telling me where to meet him; nodding his head, motioning me to follow him. I was give then queues to slip from the bar and meet him around the back of the bar. We met on the back of the deck, the balcony. It was so dark and windy. I was in a location I was not supposed to be as a customer of the cruise line. He grabbed my hand in the darkness and led me. He led me past multiple men who were cleaning the deck or the chairs or the children’s slides. He led me up multiples flights of stairs, further and further up. I didn’t ask or hesitate. In that moment I didn’t care what it took, I wanted his cum.
We got to the farthest point of any deck I had ever seen on a cruise ship. We were doing it Titanic style it felt. It was so dark and again, SO windy. I can remember him being forceful. He didn’t kiss me, caress me, or care. In the moment my pussy got so wet imagining how many other sluts he had done this to, as I knew I was just a wet cunt for him to use; as he shoved me against the side of this ship.
He didn’t ask, or give me any respect. He reached up my dress I was wearing and into my panties. He shoved his hand in between my legs and forced his fingers inside me. I could feel myself getting wetter on his fingers as he had me leaned face in against the siding. He was unbuttoning his pants with one hand while finger fucking me with the other. I scurried in an effort to help him; I wanted him inside me faster. I wanted it so badly. I wanted to be used so much so that I felt it through my body, and I wanted to be another slut on his list of whores he had fucked. I wanted to be another fuck trophy, a box to be checked off.
What felt like forever was probably no longer than ten seconds. If you know me though, you know what a black cock slut I am and how my body yearns for it. I needed it.
He shoved me by my neck to further bend over for him. I reached around and I grabbed my ass cheeks to spread them for his entrance. I didn’t even have time to get my wet pussy lips open for him before he had his cock so deep inside me it hurt. In that moment I was more full than I could have imagined. My pussy was clenching for his cock and I was so stretched. I could feel the burn in my pussy lips as he tore me.
He tore me and he kept going. I wouldn’t have stopped him if could have. He fucked me.
He fucked me so well.
I hadn’t been fucked in what felt like forever and here I was at the mercy of some big black dick, begging for more. It was about eight minutes of the hardest fucking I had received in some time.
He didn’t ask or hesitate. He grabbed my neck with one hand and gripped my hair with the other as he buried every inch of his throbbing black cock inside me; his dick pulsing as he filled me with every drop of his cum. I felt my legs shake, being used as his cum dumpster fulfilled me as a woman, as the slut that I am. I arched my back and thrust my ass into him. I could feel his balls against my wet clit. He drained himself inside me and all I wanted was more.
It was over before I wanted it to be. He slipped out of me like one of those sexy ass porn videos you see where the cock is so big it has to be pulled out of the pussy. I felt gaped and full of cum. I didn’t want to lose a drop so I quickly pulled my little panties up, saving every bit I could inside them. (I wore those panties every day for the rest of the cruise without washing them)
He too got his pants up, buckled, tucked his shirt in and looked as if he did before any of this. I struggled to get my things from the floor of the deck as he kissed me on the cheek and said, “thank you”.
My knees get weak thinking of that. “Thank you”? Really? You are thanking me? You just blessed with your seed. You just used me like the slut that I am. You just fulfilled fantasies and stretched me… and you are thanking me? I was dumb founded.
He went back to his bar and I got myself together before finding my way back to the appropriate deck this cruise ship. I can remember vividly wishing there was a way that all the other cruise ship employees I passed knew I just got fucked. I wish they could tell I wanted more inside me. As the cum dripped from my pussy and rubbed into my panties and then into my inner thighs, I wanted so badly to continue with an assembly line of men lined up to unload inside me. I wanted to be the slut that was bent over in one of their rooms as so many of them came in and took turns.
A girl can dream.
I drank the next day at his bar. I have to admit he tried for the duration of the cruise to get me again and again. I wouldn’t do it. Ultimately I have the control and I fucked myself many of times knowing he wished he could be inside me again. I got my tally. I scored my goal. I succeeded in what I was set out to do and that is all I needed. I didn’t want more from him. I had him and didn’t want him again. This pussy is good for one fuck from each, not many fucks from one.
I am a slut.