All Black Everything

Why do Black Men feel so entitled?

I already know I’m going to catch heat behind this, but I don’t care. I’m only speaking from personal experience so clearly I don’t men all black men. I’m going to preface this article by giving a little back story.

This guy I went to school with has been after me for years, roughly 17 years to be exact. I was never interested in him and once we graduated high school, we parted ways. Thank goodness. However, it seems year after year he seeks me out on social media (not that I’m hard to find).

So about 2-3 years ago, I made the stupid mistake of finally sleeping with him. He’s been hounding me ever since, wanting to be with me. He’s a very aggressive person and I honestly didn’t and don’t feel safe in his presence because he tries to pressure me to have sex.

The last time I saw him was in 2017 at my ten year class reunion. We said “hey” in passing and of course he later on hit me up wanting to come over and I said “no”. We had a huge argument and again, parted ways. He hit me up last year and I was still not interested because I had just had a baby.

Let’s go back a couple of days and he messages me asking did I miss him. I was honest and said I hadn’t thought about him and I hadn’t. I have a child. I’m not thinking about any past men at this moment.

So then he asked why I didn’t want to “fuck with” him. That is where the conversation took a turn for the worst. As a grown ass man, that is not something you should be asking a woman and for certain not in that manner. I explained to him that he wasn’t the kind of man I wanted around my son, nor the kind of man I would want my son to look up to.

He of course was offended and said he’ll talk to me again when my son is old enough to understand what a role model is. I told him don’t bother. So he proceeds to comment on my breasts and I asked him to refrain from that. He asked why and I asked him if I told him to not touch me, would he ask the same question. He said since we had already slept together that would be weird for me to say no.

Pause. Only a rapist would say that because that’s rapist mentality. How dare you tell me that if I tell you not to touch me, that you should still be able to? What right do you have? You still have to have my permission rah and every time you want to touch me. I am not your possession. He then told me to grow up and I blocked him.

Now to my point. What is it that makes some black men feel entitled to do as they want to black men? What makes you entitled to date me, touch me, make me talk to you? Since when do you own women? Like the man who killed the woman because she didn’t want to dance with him, or men who call women “stuck up bitches” when they cat call and a woman turns her nose up, or say that she’s “ugly anyway?”

Where does this sense of entitlement come from? I’ll be damned if Malakhai grows up and thinks that he’s entitled to any woman he wants and she has to submit. Fuck that. If a woman says no then dammit she means no and vice versa. There are women too who feel entitled to men.

This topic also comes in loo of the documentary Surviving R. Kelly. He is the largest entitled piece of shit excuse of a man and I feel like some other black men are taking after him, thinking it’ll work for them.

Could it come from past sexual abuse? Lack of a father figure? How they grew up and seeing their father’s or, mother’s boyfriends, doing the same thing? Past relationships with submissive women?

If you are a black man reading this post, please give me some insight as to where some of your fellow specimen get this notion that every woman has to be with them. Also, why aren’t we holding these men accountable?

All Black Everything

Top U. S. Cities for Human Trafficking

I was listening to Mahogany Momology podcast and something they mentioned really stuck in my head. One of them said the reason that they don’t let their child run around or pick up stuff or stop paying attention is because Dallas is the 3 largest city for human trafficking (Houston is actually number 3). They also mentioned little black boys being a target for organ harvesting.

I never thought of why black parents are so adamant about children sticking close or paying attention, or not being distracted by touching things. I really never thought of any of that until I became a parent, and even though Malakhai is not old enough to roam around, it’s still something that I will keep in mind once he gets older.

I wanted to share the top cities in the U. S. for human trafficking from lowest to highest.

15. Orlando

14. Baltimore

13. New York

12. Chicago

11. Los Angeles 

10. Dallas

9. San Francisco 

8. San Diego

7. Las Vegas 

6. Sacramento

5. Columbus

4. Miami

3. Houston 

2. Atlanta

  1. Washington D. C.

As you can see that California has the most cities on the lit, being that they have the highest issue with human trafficking. Being that I live in Houston and it’s number 3, that’s scary. Be sure, especially if you are a POC, that you are watching your children when you are out. 

Source:https://www.insidermonkey.com/blog/15-top-us-cities-for-human-trafficking-in-2018-651630/?singlepage=1

All Black Everything

Black Women vs….well…Black Women

I was watching Red Table Talk with Jada Pinkett-Smith, her daughter Willow, and her other Adrienne. They were discussing how Black Women should be the bigger people and bridge the gap between us and White Women. I had a huge problem with that. Why should it be up to use to bridge this gap that was not created by us? Why is it our responsibility? I feel like that’s a child begging to fit in with kids that they don’t belong with, or me trying to build a relationship with my father who doesn’t want any parts of it.

My most daunting question is: Why are we trying to bridge a gap between us and another race of women when we can’t even bridge the gap between us and other Black Women? That is where the real issue is. If we cannot come together as a race and build each other up, uniting as a group of women, why try to do it with another race? That’s like trying to find love with another person and you don’t even love yourself.

Black Women have been pitted against each other for the longest (since slavery). We have so much divide among us from hair, to skin color, to how we raise our kids, to being single parents, to body discrimination, to careers, etc. On top of that, we have to deal with our own mental health issues and realizing that we need professional help and that it is okay to seek it. 

So, even before we can bridge the gap between us and other Black Women, we need to deal with our own issues. We come from generational mental health disorders and a cohort of other issues that we don’t deal with, continuing to live life broken, going off of a hope, a wish, and a prayer that we will magically be whole again. It doesn’t work like that sis.

My issue with these “celebrities” is how they use their platforms to appease “other” people instead of uniting their own. Why are you begging to be a part of the masses who could not care less about you? You have little boys and girls who look up to you because you look like them, and they’re seeing you with your puppet strings putting on a show for kids who don’t look like you, controlled by the puppet massa’. How sway?

 I’m all for unity, but it starts with first healing yourself, working to unite the culture, and that’s where it stops. It is not our job to get everyone else to sing “Kumbaya”. What are your thoughts on this issue?

All Black Everything, Health + Wellness

Apesh*t & Black Panther

No shade, but black women are the most diverse group of women on this planet. It’s true.  We are the only group of women who come in a wide variety of shades and we have a wide variety of hair textures. But the one thing that bothers me is the misrepresentation of the different shades of black women and the unfortunate favoritism of certain shades. Not to mention the treatment of different shades.

I am not a Beyoncé fan (Beyhive do not come for me unless I send for you), but I have a great respect for her latest video, Apesh*t. It is an extremely inclusive video, with black women of shades across the entire spectrum. That made me feel amazing that she did that. In today’s time, women of my skin tone or darker are underrepresented in music videos and all other aspects of media (commercials, billboards, ads, etc.).

Beyoncé is all about the empowerment of black women, just look at her Formation music video. Her live performances always have only black women doing background and the instrumentals. There aren’t too many women with large platforms and popularity as her, advocating for black women in their entirety.

Black women from lightest to darkest have many adversities against them. Light skinned women are always asked if they’re mixed because they’re too light to just be black. They have to have something else in them. They are also seen as stuck up, yet the most sought after from dark skinned black men. Then you have the women of my color who also aren’t seen as just black. Speaking from personal experience, I am always asked where I am from. Many people think that I am from the islands because of my hair texture and my complexion. I’ve been told I’m too pretty to just be black, and believe it or not, that is an insult to my heritage. I am just black. Period.

I’ve also been told that I must be mixed. Well I’ve never seen a biracial black woman as dark as I am. I’m never seen as just a black woman in America. Also, because I speak proper English (thanks to those years spent living in England), I have been bullied and astrocized by black men but more so black women, speaking as if I’m better than them, that’s what they tell me. Not all black women are loud, uneducated, petty, mad, and belligerent.

Then you have those who are in the range in between light and dark who are often left in the abyss. Nobody really talks about them. Most other ethnicities don’t know but there is a rift amongst black women due to the varying shades. The lighter skinned sisters tend to feel like they’re better than the darker skinned and also look down on us. I’m not saying all, but most, and I think they feel like the have a sense of entitlement because society sees them as more favorable.

I am the type of person who looks deeper into everything I see, especially commercials. Rarely will you ever see a darker skinned woman. They are always of light complexion or biracial. Women of my skin tone aren’t seen as pretty.

I also want to take note of Black Panther. A YouTuber that I watch brought up a good point. She said a friend of hers felt slighted because the representation in Black Panther was limited to women of my color and darker. I hadn’t actually paid attention to that during the numerous times that I’ve seen it. After watching the video, I went back and watched it again and realized that she was right. The thing is, in much of Africa, where Wakanda is, there aren’t really any lighter skinned women. Africa is mainly of people my color and darker.

So, with Black Panther not having any lighter skinned women, it was a true representation, not to mention, all the women in the movie aside from Lupita, Sury, and T’Challa’s mother, were bald. This movie really was for our culture despite the representation, or underrepresentation.

A lot of this rift, again, goes back to slavery. Lighter skinned women were favored mainly because they were a product of a slave woman being raped by a slave master, or a white woman manipulating a black slave male into sleeping with her. These children ended up being house negroes. Granted there treatment was still bad but not considerably as bad as field negroes (I don’t use the other “n” word). We are all still experiencing PTSD (post traumatic slave disorder).

I hope that one day, collectively, we can put colorism aside. We are all black and descendants of Africans and African slaves.

My Life

JOMO

I listen to the Minimalist Moms podcast every morning and one thing they talked about that pertains to minimalism is JOMO: the joy of missing out. I have to say that I have a severe case of this because missing out on things does not bother me. When friends cancel, I don’t fear that I missed something. I am overjoyed. When friends have a get together or when I see my friends doing so many great things or going to events on social media, I don’t have a fear that I’m missing out or that I missed out on anything.

What I’ve learned on this minimalism journey is that I don’t have to attend every event. This also reigns true for my debt free journey. There will be plenty of times where I will miss out but who cares? What’s important to others is not always important to me and vice versa.

People tend to make fun of those who are homebodies, which really comes from their lack of understanding of why someone would choose to stay at home over going out, getting drunk, gossiping, living the wild life. I prefer to only attend functions that benefit me in stimulating conversation, networking, collaborating or a means to increase and better my business. If it has nothing to do with those, count me out.

Now that I have a baby boy on the way, I’m sure my priorities and wanting to go out will change, meaning, I will be more willing to go out to the park, meet up with other moms for play dates, and when he gets older, take him to places like an indoor trampoline park. That type of going out will benefit me in a way that my son is having fun and I am spending time with him doing something that he enjoys or that we enjoy together.

Do I feel like I’m missing out because I see my friends have sleepovers and I’m not invited? Absolutely not. I didn’t even go to sleepovers as a child (maybe one or two that I rememer). I feel as though I would be awkward in that type of setting.

I think the thing is is that I haven’t found a small number of women near me that share the same interests such as veganism, children, health, politics, racial issues, the universe, meditating, spirituality, creating (blogging, business, planning), etc. I have many interests that a lot of women that I know don’t share. Nowadays it’s Love and Hip Hop, the Kardashians and other people and things that are irrelevant to my growth and life.

It’s been said that it’s not okay to not have friends. I agree to the point that it’s not okay to not have friends that share the same interests or are on the same path. It’s not oaky to have friends that bring you down and would rather see you fail than prosper. Those types of people are the ones who give me JOMO because I know that whatever activity they are partaking in, I’m not with it.

Do you have the case of the JOMO? Why or why not?

Product Reviews

The Mothers by Brit Bennett

This coming of age story follows Nadia Turner, a girl who goes through life trying to find herself. From losing her mom, losing her virginity, getting an abortion to losing herself, there’s so much to take in.

This novel was beautifully written and though I can’t relate to any of it, I personally know some women who can.

This was a book I could read cover to cover and it is a page-turner. The imagery and character development makes this story into the beauty that it is. The friendship that develops between Nadia and Aubrey is beautiful and the way it ends as the book comes to an end, makes you feel like things could be okay.

I’ve dealt with older women in the church who were gossipy and that’s what they lived for. I think that’s a common theme in the black church. It’s also a reason I left the church.

If you have some time (though I highly suggest making the time), check this book out. The way it draws you in, you’ll go with no hesitation.

My Life, Vegan Mommy Things

Getting an Abortion

When I first found out I was pregnant, I was devastated. During that time, I was set to move to China and start a new life and career. I had my visa documents and everything. All I was waiting on was my plane ticket. Then I found out I was pregnant. That brought everything to a screeching halt.

I was getting medical checks regularly because you have to be in good health. The doctor kept saying my blood pressure was high and I have never had high blood pressure. I thought maybe because I was stressed and I also didn’t like her. Unbeknownst to me, I was pregnant.

I found out I was pregnant on August 13, 2017. My period was late by a day or two and I just knew I was pregnant. I took a pregnancy test and it came back positive. I laughed it off and took another. It came back positive too. I immediately stopped breathing. I literally felt my heart stop. I wasn’t ready to be a mom nor did I want to be one. I didn’t want kids.

My first stop was to my mother’s house because I was going painting with her and my grandmother that day. I told my mom through my tears and trying to catch my breath. If you know my mom, you know she was hella excited, this being her first grandbaby and all. I also told my brother and stepdad who were there. They were all supportive. Then I told my baby’s father and that’s when things changed.

We agreed upon me getting an abortion because I had life plans and so did he. I was going to fucking China!!! So, I called the abortion clinic and went the next day. I just knew I was doing the right thing until I got there. I won’t mention the clinic but it was small and not very attractive. I waited in the waiting room for what felt like hours.

Once I was called back, I sat in this hallway with a bunch of other women. The woman sitting next to me was telling a woman who was crying that she’ll be fine. She had had several abortions with her boyfriend and she turns out fine every time. That’s when reality set in. Women actually do this to fix what they consider a “mistake”. Some even do it repeatedly with no remorse. At that point I wanted to leave, but I stayed. Something told me to stay.

I looked a few seats down and there was this room I kept seeing women come out of with a nurse. These women were in a daze and could barely walk. That’s when I realized we were by the operating room. We were also by the back door where the women went out of once the abortion was done.

I started to really panic. By that point a nurse called me in to get an ultrasound. They couldn’t find the baby on the screen. I began to breathe hoping that meant those pregnancy tests were wrong. Then they made me take a pre test and blood test. The pee test came back as a light positive and I had to wait 24 hours for the blood test.

After that I went and saw a counselor and she explained to my how the operation worked and how the pill worked. Both options sounded horrific. I was mortified. I made my appointment for two days later, on a Wednesday. I came out and passed this room that was dark and I saw all these women in there. Some curled up, some crying and some sleeping. These women were waiting for their rides to come pick them up. They had already had their procedure. I quickly left the building.

I cried all the rest of that day and that night, into the next morning. I was scared and didn’t know what to do. One thing was for sure. I can’t remember at which moment it was: the woman telling about her numerous abortions, the operating room, the counselor or the room full of post-op women, but I knew I was going to keep my baby. I knew for certain I was not going to go through with the abortion. That morning the clinic called me back to confirm my blood test came back positive for being pregnant.

The morning of when I was supposed to get my procedure, I got a phone call from a school to come and have me interview for a teaching position. I ended up getting an interview and hired the same day. I realize now that had I gone through with the abortion, I wouldn’t have gotten this job. I would also be in China right now. This job was a job I had been wanting: it was a writing position. I was going to be teaching writing and I was happier than anyone could ever know.

I share this story because I know women contemplate abortions every second of every day and I know women who actually go through with them. Either way, both are difficult decisions: either keep or get rid of your baby. Ultimately, my decision to keep my baby was that there are no mistakes. I knew the outcomes of having unprotected sex with no birth control. This baby is not at fault and therefore, having an abortion, was not a solution because being pregnant wasn’t a problem. This was an unplanned planned pregnancy, meaning it wasn’t intentional but I also didn’t try to prevent it.

Now, almost 7 months later, I am in a better, happier place. I have an amazing job, a new car (not fancy though), a new apartment and a bundle of joy who will arrive in April. My child’s father is now on board and excited about having a child. This is a first for the both of us so we will be learning as we go. We have the support of family and friends. Even though I am single mom, the relationship I have with my child’s father is going to make for an awesome coparenting relationship.

Every time I feel my baby kick, I get more and more excited. I’m at the stage in my pregnancy where the baby is moving around a lot and making their little presence known. I know as I get into my third trimester, I will feel the baby kick and move even more. I keep thinking what if I had gone through with the abortion, what my life would be like now. Then I think about how my life is now and I’m happy. I can’t keep living in the what if’s or the past.

Granted, I could’ve still gone to China with my baby, but being a single, FTM in a country that I’ve never been to, that just didn’t seem logical. Plus, here, I have the help of family and friends.

It’s interesting to look back on how I started at the beginning of my pregnancy and how I felt, to now. I feel like I’m a completely different person. I’m already in mommy mode and my baby isn’t even here yet.

If you have a story to share, share it below or feel free to contact me if you want it to be private.

I want to let women know that they are not alone in whatever decisions they make. There is always someone who has been through or is going through the same thing. It may seem scary right now and like it’s not the right time, but everything happens for a reason. I think me getting pregnant and deciding to keep my baby, is going to make me a better woman, someone whom I never thought I could or would be.

So this is my story and I hope that it helps someone else.

My Life

The Snow Has Fallen…

It doesn’t typically snow in Houston, in fact it’s been about 9-10 years since the last time it snowed. I woke up Friday morning to the ground, trees, cars and rooftops covered in a white powder. Surely this was not Houston.

The snow was beautiful while it lasted. Within a few hours of the sky brightening up, the snow had melted, as if it were just a mirage. Many of my students had played in it before coming to school, for they had never seen real snow. It’s times like this that I appreciate Houston giving us all a once in a lifetime memory to share.

All Black Everything, Health + Wellness, Vegan Mommy Things

Eating Healthy is for POC Too

Podcast: Black Girl in Om

Grocery Haul:

Avocados

Blackberries

Blueberries

Strawberries

Potatoes

Tomatoes

Pumpkin seeds

Pecans

Raisins

Kale

Nutritional Yeast

Bolthouse Farms Non-Dairy Milk

Minimalism

Minimalism for the Avid Reader

1. Library

At the library you can check out as many books as you want and renew them. This way you can have books but not have books at the same time. The Houston Public Library now has a feature where you can check it ebooks that are delivered directly to your kindle.

2. Amazon, Smashwords, Goodreads

You can purchase ebooks that can be delivered to any electronic device for you to read on the go.

3. Audio Books

You can purchase the audio version of books from Amazon or Audible if you aren’t into reading, or just don’t have the time.

4. Read in store

If you have the time, you can read books for free in Barnes & Noble, Books A Million, Half Price Books, etc. Buy a cup of coffee and relax with a book.

Health + Wellness, Minimalism, My Life, Vegan Mommy Things

Veganism, Minimalism, and Spirituality

I was listening to a podcast the other day (Minimalist Moms) and they were talking about minimalism and spirituality. I consider myself a spiritual person and that more so came to light after my transition to being vegan. When you realize that all these animal products, processed foods and fake foods are not needed to survive, it makes you wonder what else you can live without.

I think after the first year, I began to realize that I had way too many things. I lived with my mom at the time and we lived in this big two story house that had 3 bedrooms, 2.5 baths, an office, huge living and dining room, 3 car garage, the works. I was grateful, but I began to feel like I was drowning. That is when I decided to start giving things away. The Purple Heart would come to our house and pick up any donations we had, and every time they came, there was plenty to give away. Even my mom was giving stuff away.

Once I got ready to move into my first apartment, I had bags and bags full of stuff that I was not taking with me. Once I moved and set up my new apartment, I realized that I had so much empty space. I lived in a nearly empty apartment for 14 months. It was depressing. I rarely invited people over because I was embarrassed. I had this huge apartment and nothing to fill it with, nor was I going to fill it.

When my lease was almost up, I went on the hunt for a much smaller apartment. I was elated when I finally found the perfect one. The living room was much smaller and it had a separate dining area; the closet was half the size of the old one; the bathroom was also smaller with a smaller linen closet and smaller garden tub; and the bedroom was about the same size.

Once I had moved all of my things in, I realized I did not have enough space for everything, and again, I had to give and throw things away. Every cabinet and closet is full to the brim with necessities (which is not a lot given how small everything is). Even though I have a baby on the way, there is enough stuff for their things to go. I’m just going to have to let the grandparents and family know to keep things to a minimum.

Being vegan opens your mind to societal norms, values, and morals, and makes you see how everything we’ve ever been taught was a lie. We are told to work more so that we can buy more things. We are manipulated into wanting a bigger house to fill it with expensive things and nicer, fancier, expensive cars. We are told we need all these things to make us happy and to live the “American Dream.”

I often times think about people who are homeless or those who don’t have many or any valuables, and how many of them are happy. There are homeless people who are actually happy; one of them is a friend of mine. I watched his journey moving from Houston to New York. He lives in a homeless shelter and all of his things fit in a backpack. He is the happiest person I know and it amazes me at his spirit and joy. We have talked on several occasions, and I follow his blog, YouTube and social media.

I do plan to live in a tiny house one day soon, but we will see how things go.

Spirituality

My spirituality changed when I became vegan because like I said before, when you realize that you have been told lies all your life about food, what other lies have we been told?

I began to do my research on the history of Christianity and Jesus Christ and what I found out was disturbing. During the times of slavery, Black people were only allowed to read the bible, and only a select few at that, mainly Black men who were appointed pastor by the slave master to keep the slaves in check. The slave masters would drill these lies about Jesus Christ (a white man with blue eyes and brown straight hair, sometimes it was blond, with white skin), and how if we don’t worship him, we were going to this place called hell (funny thing is we already live in hell).

Christianity was forced upon slaves in order to keep them dependent upon the white man and the slave masters, to make them feel that they are all they have. That translates into today. Many Black people work for the white man and are dependent upon him for a paycheck. I did more research and came to the conclusion that church really wasn’t for me. When I lived with my mom, I went to church because that wasn’t an option. I first started going to her church where the pastor is a white man (oh, the irony). I quickly realized that that wasn’t the church for me. I went to two other Black churches and I felt like a slave, being brainwashed into believing the lies coming out of the pastors’ mouths.

Do these pastors not know the history behind the negro church and why only Black men are pastors? Does that not strike them as odd? When I moved out, I immediately stopped going to church and created my own altar for me to worship my ancestors, meditate and journal. It felt right, right from the beginning. I turn on my oil diffuser, meditate for about 10 minutes and then journal. It gives me a sense of peace. I do this normally every Sunday morning, and other times when I feel I need to (mainly when I’m stressed).

I’ve found that more millennials have taken this route of spirituality, letting go of Christianity and the Black church. Our parents and grandparents don’t understand, and even find it demonic or heathenist or witchcraft, but little do they know that when they pray, that is a form of witchcraft. Praying is the same thing as reciting a spell. You pray for things you want, the healing of others, love, righteousness, happiness, etc. That’s casting a spell.

Back to the minimalist side, I keep my altar fairly simple. If you would like a tour, click here. I have updated it and added a couple of new pieces. I will do another post later on with the specifics of everything and why I have everything on it.

Veganism, minimalisim and spirituality go hand in hand.

My Life, Vegan Mommy Things

Dear Bitter Moms

Since I’ve been pregnant, you have been projecting your opinions and oppositions at me. It’s like once women have had children, they always feel like experts, but that’s not the case. Not every woman is the same, nor is every birth or pregnancy. Just because I choose to have a different birthing experience than you, does not mean that I don’t know what I’m talking about, or that I’m young and dumb.

I made a post on Instagram about hospital births and one bitter mom said that us “young moms think (we) know it all.” She went in to say that she’s been a mom for 15 years and that “medications are in place for a reason.” Well, that’s how you feel but not how I feel. It’s almost as if it’s wrong to have a difference in opinion.

I feel like FTM are always getting attacked because we want something different for our experience. To be honest I don’t plan on having more kids, so I want this experience to be memorable. My age has nothing to do with my knowledge and I think that’s where you “bitter moms” get things twisted. Just because your birthing experience with medications and what not was great, that is not the case for everyone else.

Now before you get your panties in a twist and let your fingers pull the angrily typing trigger, I’m not saying that having babies in a hospital is bad, or makes you a bad parent, or that I’m better than you. What I’m saying is, not everyone wants that. If that’s what you felt was right for you, then by all means it was right for you. It’s just not right for me.

People tend to go along with what they’ve been taught, have always known/seen, or just with what society says. If you follow me on social media, you know I go against the so-called “norm”, especially in the black community. It’s not normal to be black and vegan, non-religious, having a midwife and water birth, and practicing natural remedies for healing.

Why should I conform to black societal norms when I can live my life the way I see fit for me and my baby?

In closing, to all you “bitter moms”, keep your opinions to yourself. Just because you have had experience being a mom and giving birth, does not mean shit to me. We are nothing alike; we aren’t even on the same damn frequency.

Signed,

A fed up FTM

All Black Everything, My Life

Black Girls Teach

I came across this Instagram page when I searched #blackteachers and #blackeducators. A whole page dedicated to black female educators! I am all about black women empowerment. It is something that is near and dear, simply because I too am a black female educator. I am in my second year teaching and I love working with students and getting to see them grow and grasp new concepts. I have high expectations of my students and they know I do, and it’s only the third week of school.

Being a black educator is more common than most people think. What we do lack is black male educators, which I feel is an impertinent part of educating black students, more specifically and importantly, black boys. Many black boys do not have that positive male role model to look up to, therefore, they tend to stray off towards a path of self destruction, or follow in the footsteps of negative male behaviors (i.e. drugs, alcohol, gangs, crime, jail, victims of police brutality).

Granted that there are enough black female teachers, I still feel like we need to do so much more for our young girls. I have been in education for four years, and the things I have seen and heard among young black girls is heartbreaking. Working in a high school setting you hear about body counts (sexual partners, not murders), twerking, baby daddies, gossiping and just girls tearing themselves and others down. This is why I feel my job as an educator is so important.

Yesterday, one of my female students came up to me and said that one of my male students said to her and her friends “girl love.” Now she took it offensively (I teach 4th grade) in a way that would have the boy suggest they were gay or liked each other. I told her that I don’t think that is what he meant (given the personality of the young male student), and I told her that he more than likely meant “girl love” as in you all are friends and love each other. I explained to her that “girl love” is about women and girls lifting each other up and helping each other. It’s about not picking on each other or bullying, but being kind and supportive. She walked away annoyed that the boy didn’t get in trouble and she was completely untouched by my speech, but I felt great explaining that to her (though she probably thought I was crazy).

I feel that being a black female teacher is like the students having a second mother ( I can’t even count the times I’ve been called “mom” and “mama”), one who teaches them in ways that their parents either can’t because either they don’t have the resources or they don’t have the time. It’s kind of like a coparenting situation.

I encourage more black women, and men, to become educators and teach our youth in ways that they can’t be taught by those who don’t look like them. Having a familiar face in the classroom is significant to their learning.


You can find the t-shirt on Black Girls Teach website, and you can follow them on IG @blackgirlsteach.

My Life, Vegan Mommy Things

A Vegan Baby, Arriving Soon!

You read that right. There’s a vegan bun in the oven and I couldn’t be more excited. As I finish up my first trimester, here’s how things went.


When I found out I was pregnant, I was numb. I did not want kids and finding out you’re pregnant and not married or in a relationship, pretty damn scary. I took two pregnancy tests (yes two because I thought the first one was lying), and then immediately went to my mom’s house. I cried as I told her and she jumped for joy (not because I was crying but because this is her first grandchild). As the days and weeks went on, I came to terms with it. 

At my first ultrasound, the doctor said that my baby was measuring rather small, that the heartbeat was on the low side of normal, and that there were several reasons it could be happening.

  1. My last period dates were wrong.
  2. My ovulation was late.
  3. It could be a slow pregnancy, which meant the baby could possibly not make it. 

Over the course of the next couple of weeks, I was on edge thinking the worst. I didn’t want it to be the third reason and was so scared. Apparently my mom and grandmother were too, they just didn’t want to stress me even more. Fast forward to my second prenatal appointment, the baby’s heart rate was in the normal range, it had grown tremendously, it was kicking its little foot and waving its hand. I felt so much joy and excitement. I had felt flutters since the last appointment but paid them no mind. Little did I know, that was the baby moving. 

My doctor said everything was normal, the baby looked fine and was growing as it should. Turns out, my ovulation was a week late and I do remember not feeling myself ovulate (I have severely painful ovulations but the month of July, I didn’t feel it at all). I am so glad that my baby is doing well.

Symptoms

I really didn’t have anything to notify me I was pregnant other than the fact that I missed my period. I keep track of my period like a professional watchdog and when it didn’t come (like a few days past) I took the tests. Now at about 4 weeks I experienced cramping, really sore breasts and outrageous avocado and kale cravings. It was on a whole other level. The sore breasts is what bothered me the most.

I did start taking prenatal vitamins, but my doctor didn’t like the ones I had, so she prescribed me another vegan prenatal . They are horse pills (meaning that they are huge), but for the sake of my baby, I’ll do whatever I have to do. 

Diet

My eating has been all over the place. I have not cooked much if at all. All I want to eat are samosas, fries, donuts, ice cream, and everything not healthy (but still vegan). Sometimes I have no appetite and sometimes I can’t stop eating. It’s really weird and fluctuates often. I have gained weight since my first prenatal appointment, which is a good thing. 

I was told come the second trimester, my eating will go back to normal, and I cannot wait for that to happen. I can’t stand leafy greens right now and I miss them, yet I have no appetite for them. 

Mood Swings

I will say that my attitude is not the best right now and absolutely everything and everyone annoys me (sorry y’all, but it’s true). I feel more sensitive to things that people say and I hate that. Everything just gets on my last nerves and I feel so annoyed at that. Usually I can let things slide, but not so much now. 

Baby’s Gender

So I do not yet know the baby’s gender. I will find out on October 16, a week after my birthday. I don’t have a preference of the sex, just as long as the baby is healthy and has 5 toes, 5 or 6 fingers (6 fingers on each hand runs in my family), and has all the right body parts in the right place. My mom wants a gender reveal party, however, I am not keen on the idea because a gender reveal party just sounds stupid. Like no one can bring gifts if they don’t know, so then I have to have a baby shower on top of that. I am that odd child in the family where “normal societal behaviors” don’t interest nor impress me.

Final Thoughts

I am excited to be a mom. Though I will be a single mom, that is how I envisioned if I ever had kids. Do I want a husband and family? Of course, but I just never saw that when I saw myself having my first child. I know that’s really odd because most women envision being married and having a home and career when they have kids. For me, as long as I had my own place, my own car, and 2 careers, I’m set (yes, I have two careers: I’m a blogger and educator). As long as I could take care of myself and my baby financially (which is why I have been working my ass off to pay debts), then whether or not I was married or in a relationship, just didn’t matter. Did I plan to get pregnant? Not at all, but the universe doesn’t adhere to plans. The universe knows what you can and can’t handle and I guess this whole time I have been preparing myself to be a mother and I could not be more happier.

xoxo The Black Vegan Author

 

Product Reviews

Ruffles Green

Before I tell you about my experience here, let me just say that the best part of eating out as a vegan at a non vegan restaurant, is that your food comes out fast and is prepared fresh.

Now this restaurant is located in The Woodlands and if anyone knows the area, you know its bourgeoisie (that’s the correct way to spell the word, it’s not boujee or any other spelling), like for real for real. Walking up you see the outside area, and with the weather like it is in Texas, ain’t nobody sitting outside unless it’s night time, and even then, mosquitoes won’t let you be great and eat. 

Walking inside, they have a very sleek look. Lots of neural colors and white. It was pretty empty, guessing I beat the lunch hour rush, so there was no line. The lady who took my order was really nice and very patient.

I ordered as my appetizer the hummus with pita bread, which both are made in house, and as my meal I had the Veggie Nut Burger, 86 the cheese.

Both dishes were phenomenal. I would highly suggest them. The burger literally will melt in your mouth. The pita bread and hummus were the best I’ve had thus far.

What I also liked was it’s a self serve restaurant. You order and pay at the same time and then you get your own drink, silverware and napkins. You also can get your own to-go containers which is a plus because I feel waiters take entirely too long to bring the check and to-go containers. 

The only negative I have is that my appetizer and meal came at the same time. I would’ve preferred to get my appetizer before my meal. Not sure if that is something I should’ve requested, however, that’s the only negative I have. So, if you are ever in the Houston area, give them a try.

Product Reviews

Tout Suite’s Vegan Falafel Sandwich

The best way to get repeat vegan customers to a non vegan restaurant is to have vegan options on the menu, actual vegan options, not salads. A lot of non vegan restaurants think that a way to serve vegans is to have salads. I’m here to tell you that’s more of an insult if anything. 

Now I’ve written a review before for Tout Suite and you can read it here. I found out through their The Annex rep, who told me that they now have a vegan falafel sandwich and me being a falafel lover, I was in. 
Before I get into the food, I did speak to one of the managers and he explained that they are in the testing stage and seeing what people like and are requesting. They do not have this sandwich all the time, mainly on Friday, and throughout the weekend, or until it sells out, then they go on to a different vegan item. The goal is to have a complete vegan menu. They do not have vegan desserts at the moment, however, they will be coming soon.


The sandwich comes in the form of like mini sliders, with fries. I used to be a salty fry person, meaning I loved my French fries hypertension salty, but since becoming vegan, my taste buds have changed. Their fries are lightly salted, and when I say lightly, I mean lightly, which is a good thing because we shouldn’t be consuming so much salt anyway. 


The sandwich consists of pesto, cucumber, falafel, lettuce and tomato. I loved the pesto, though I think hummus or a vegan tzatziki sauce would be good to add or have the option of it. It is on toasted ciabatta bread and it’s very flavorful for and filling. I would definitely get this again. They also have other vegan options like their avocado toast, which is killer and their mushroom toast.


For my drink I had a chai tea latte with almond milk and to be honest, I think they have Starbucks beat. I am a huge Starbucks chai tea latte fan, so for them to beat Starbucks is a win. I would also suggest they add coconut milk, or different nondairy milks for people who have nut and soy allergies. 

If you’re in Houston or just visiting, make sure to give Tout Suite a try. 

Health + Wellness, My Life, Product Reviews

Nourish Juice Bar


Located off W Gray, this juice bar is so amazing and I love the atmosphere. I had been there once before. I ordered the Pink Starbust juice and a Buddha bowl. Both were absolutely amazing. The juice really tasted like candy and the kick from the ginger was perfect. 


The Buddha bowl was a curry style bowl with kale, quinoa, carrots, chickpeas and so much more earthy goodness. The curry dressing added so much flavor. I definitely want to try to recreate something like this.

My Life, Product Reviews

Vegan Tamales and Cupcakes @ Dan Electro’s

I don’t typically go into Houston that often because I hate the traffic and it’s a helluva commute but when I saw this event was in The Heights, and that’s fairly close to me, I was down. 


It’s located off 24th street and it’s a fairly small venue with a backyard patio. I actually only came for the tamales but Sara the Cupcake Girl was there and I bought a dozen and a half cupcakes. 


I was rather disappointed that the tamales were not already heated and the guy brought a crockpot to heat them in and he showed up later than expected. The line was long, I got ate up by mosquitos, badly and ended up with room temperature tamales.


The tamales were good, however, they would’ve been better hot. I felt like he was ill prepared. At the end of the event, those who placed orders, he no longer could fill them, not sure the reasoning but Sara and her family are making them and I’m sure they’ll be awesome as her cupcakes are. 


I got to meet the president of the Houston Black Vegan Social, Snoddy, and I have been added to the team. I also met another one of the members, Kirby.


The venue was great, it’s just the mosquitos were relentless and it could be because my blood is sweet from all the fruit I’ve been, but I will be using my all natural big spray by my girl Jazzzie by Nature. 


There is another event this coming weekend at the same place and Sara and her family are making cupcakes and enchiladas, all vegan of course. I can’t wait.

Short Stories

Perish Island: A Short Thriller (Chapter 2)

At the bus station, it smelled of old people and moth balls. Though Tasia and I lived in an upscale gated community, the perimeters weren’t as lavish. I saw homeless people, drug heads, and beggars. I held my things close as so they would not be touched. I finally heard my bus get called and ran to the gate. I beat this man out by a split second. Loading my things under the bus, I quickly boarded and walked to the very back.

Plugging in my headphones, I took out my tablet and played some music as I wrote on my blog. I wanted to respond to some comments and begin this series. I had many comments saying how crazy I was to even be doing this. About three months ago, I found some interesting things about Perish Island. I also found some disturbing things.

Perish Island got its name because many people died there or just simply disappeared. Those who were found, were found in the most gruesome ways: eyes cut out, bodies dismembered, even a pregnant woman whose baby had been cut out. Through my extensive research, I read that the island was cursed. I also read some opposing articles on how the curse was fake and those bodies were staged, photoshopped, etc.

What got me interested in wanting to see for myself was lately, many people have gone missing or have come back changed. Changed in a way that no one could describe. They said something about their eyes were changed, to a purplish green color, and they spoke a dead language. I researched the language: Charishian. It was a language that was used by people of that island in the early 1500s, when the island was named Charish. I looked up and studied the language for the past month or so. It was a pretty hard language to learn, but I had the basics covered.

I hadn’t even noticed we had left the station until the bus came to an immediate stop, thrusting me forward, hitting something. Luckily, I gripped my tablet in time. I looked around and saw a bus full of confused people. I looked out the window. I didn’t see anything. I stood up and saw the bus driver getting off the bus. I heard a scream and saw the bus driver run back on, closing the doors hurriedly.

I took my headphones out and began walking down the aisle. As I got closer, I saw something, a huge something, lying in the middle of the road. I turned my tablet to camera mode, zoomed in as I got closer and snapped a few pictures. Others were standing up around me, snapping photos as well. I heard the bus driver radioing a police officer.

“Open the door,” I said.

“Wh…wh…what?”

“Open the door. I want to get a better look.”

“Are you fucking crazy?”

“No, I’m a blogger and this would be a good way to boost my ratings, now open the door.”

“You’re fucking…”

“Open the damn door!” I yelled.

She jumped, but opened the door. As I walked off, I heard others behind me coming off the bus. We walked around to the front and I couldn’t believe my eyes. I heard snaps of cameras and phones as people crowded around. No one said a word. I snapped about 50 shots from each angle. I am not sure what it was but it definitely was not human, or animal. It looked like a big black cloak, that could breathe, yes, it was breathing. I took out my camera and began recording. Making sure to get the thing in the background as I described what it was. I ended the recording as soon as the police, ambulance and UBF (Unidentified Beings Force) showed up.

They ordered us to get back on the bus, but I had everything I needed. They also made us swear not to post anything. Yeah, right. Soon as I got in my seat, I put my headphones back in and pretended I was listening and reading. I turned on my hotspot, hooked my camera up to my tablet and began uploading. The signal was weak, as I could tell we were getting close to a dead spot. It took about 10 minutes to upload. As it was working, I watched UBF haul the thing off. Whatever it was, it was still alive. I was so glad I would not be there when it woke up.

Another 45 minutes and we were back on the road. It was 12 in the afternoon and the sun was beaming high. I looked out the window, capturing as many photos as I could of fields, flowers, nature. Before long, I had dozed off, unknowingly, until I began to dream, and this was not like the other dream.

“You shouldn’t be here! Go back to where you came from!”

I was looking around. I was in the middle of the street, but no one was near me, saying anything. People walked by and didn’t seem to notice me. “I am well known but never seen. Don’t try to look for me, for your eyes can’t see even what is in front of you.” My heart started racing. I ran up to someone to ask if they heard the voice. Then I saw their eyes. I stopped breathing. It was real. The curse. Their eyes were purplish-green. Everyone. I darted down the street and I felt something cool on the back of my neck. I looked behind me and saw a shadow with no face. I screamed as it engulfed me. Everything went black.

I jolted awake and realized I was still on the bus. I looked around and many people were sleep or just not paying any attention to me. I grabbed my bag that had the food my sister had made me. I took out a sandwich and some chips with a bottle of water. I heard dings in my ear and realized it was my tablet.

They were comments to my photos and video I had posted earlier. I skimmed through them as I ate, reading what people thought that thing was, and still calling me crazy for continuing and not going back with the police. I scrolled through until I saw a comment that almost made me choke on the sandwich.

“I know who you are Iris. You should go back home. Perish Island needs not its secret exposed. Continue on this journey and you to shall perish.”

The comment shook me to my core. I tried to respond back but I kept getting the message that the user didn’t exist. Then the strangest thing happened. The comment disappeared, like it had never even been there. Did I imagine it? Was I losing it? Dammit. I knew I should’ve taken a screen shot.

My phone vibrated, scaring me from my thoughts. It was my sister. I let it go to voicemail. As I finished eating, I browsed through some more articles about Perish Island. I looked at old photos of people, businesses, schools. I compared them to recent photos and noticed that a lot of things had changed.

The island had been modernized but the population was still dropping. It was only at about 1,100 people. For such a large island, that was not a large amount of people. I went to my saved searches to look at the Air BnB I was staying at. It was a nice little cottage, just outside of town. Not too far from everything, but far enough that I would have privacy.

There were a few houses in the area, mostly older couples and one or two younger singles my age. It was behind the main house, a small pool separating the two. I assumed it had been a guest house for when the owner’s kids came into town. I sent a quick message to the owner letting them know about the earlier incident and that I may be coming in a little later than expected. I looked up and it was beginning to get dark.

I hated that I had to take the ferry in the night time. The waters would be black, unknown depths. We pulled into the bus station about an hour later and it was much nicer than the one back home. I gathered my things and headed to the ferry. There were a lot of people being taken to the island. I wondered if it was a special occasion. I sat alone, staring into the night sky, looking at the stars and the sun.

My phone buzzed and it was 4 voicemails and 23 text messages. Some from my sister and other from Jermail. Basically, my sister was pissed that I hadn’t told her that Jermail and I had broken up and Jermail was pissed that I had still been lying to my sister that I was going with him. I turned my phone off and stared back into the waters. It was about a 30 minute boat ride to the island. It was all lit up. I could see the light from the lighthouse.

Even at night the island was just as beautiful compared to the photos I had seen of it during the day. We docked and loaded off the ferry. My Uber was waiting there for me. I got in and we headed to the cottage. As we were leaving town, there became less and less street lights. Of course, I thought it odd.

“You ever been to the island?” the driver asked, distracting me from my thoughts.

“What? Oh, no, I haven’t.”

“How’d you hear about it?”

“I stumbled across the place that I am staying at and saw that it had great ratings. I just needed a vacation somewhere that was secluded.”

“Yeah, the Barry’s are nice and offer great service and hospitality.”

“How did you know where I was going?” I asked nervously.

“The address that you put in when you ordered the Uber.”

“Oh, right.”

I had in fact forgotten. I had also forgotten that there weren’t many people who lived on the island, so everyone probably knew each other. I began to relax as we talked for the next 10 minutes. He then pulled into the driveway of this beautiful, Victorian house. The architecture and pointed triangular roof tops. It was a large house, two stories. For two people in their 50s, this was a lot of house. The driver got my things out of the trunk as I walked up to the door. Before I could knock, it opened and their stood this woman, almost scared me half to death.

She had mocha skin, tight, like it had been pulled back, long, jet black hair, beady gray eyes, a neck like a giraffe, extremely high cheekbones, and skinnier than a rail. I quickly put on a smile to hide the fact that I was terrified. She looked possessed.

“Hi, you must be Mrs. Barry. I’m Iris.”

“Good evening, and please call me Janelle,” she screeched in her high pitched voice.

My heart stopped at her voice. I didn’t even want to go in anymore. I wanted the driver to take me back, but as soon as I turned around, all I could see was his taillights in the distance. I’m screwed. I turned back to the demon lady and she invited me in. I clutched my suitcase and slowly walked in. The inside of the house made my breath get caught in my throat. Obviously, this couple was into taxidermy, for there were stuffed animal heads and full animals everywhere. I’m not religious but even looking at this house I wish I had a rosary.

“Why don’t I show you to the back house and you get settled in,” came the voice again.

“Um, sure. Yeah, that would be great.”

I followed the decrepit lady through the foyer into the living room. I stopped dead in my tracks as I saw a cat with its teeth baring, hissing at what seemed to be some sort of dog.

“Oh, don’t mind them dear, that is how they play,” she said, giving me this look like I was dinner.

Out the back door I began to relax. The pool was lit and the water running down the rocks was soothing. There were lawn chairs lining the pool, a gazebo with a grill and some outdoor couches, a small garden on the outskirts of the pool area. It was beautiful to say the least. We got to the back house and she unlocked the door. I followed her in.

“Here are you quarters. Don’t be too shy to ask for anything. Also, make sure to look the doors and windows at night.”

“Why?” I asked, regretfully.

“Why dear, there’s a storm coming. There are also boards for the windows.”

As she walked out, I knew that was a lie. I locked the door behind her and made sure the windows were locked as well. I looked around the small cottage. There was a bathroom in the back with just a toilet and small shower, like that of a tiny house, the bed was king sized, the desk was small but usable and the décor was lovely, not like in the main house. I showered and unpacked some of my things, putting them into drawers. I was only going to be here a week. That meant I had five days to get my story and get the hell out of here. This place just had ‘bad idea’ written all over it.

Part of me wishes I had listened to Tasia and Jermail. The other part of me knew that this was going to be my big break into the world of independent blogging. I setup my tablet on the desk and finished the post for today. I responded to some comments, plugged it in to charge and my phone and camera, then headed to the bed. My eyes were heavy from the long ride. Though, I was a tad bit scared to go to sleep because of the nightmares and being in this nightmarish place, I knew that my dreams could be worse. I turned off the lights and let the sleep consume me.

Short Stories, Sneak Peeks

Short Story Sunday 3/19/2017 (Sage)

I got out the cab and tipped the driver.  Bag held close I walked to the 20 story hotel. I can’t believe this man lives in this palace off of my fucking money. Walking to the concierge’s desk, the woman behind the desk looked up and smiled.

“Hi, how may I help you?”

“I’m here to meet Mr. Walker. He is expecting me.”

“Name?”

“Xiochitl.”

“Last name?”

“It’s just Xiochitl.”

“Like Beyonce?”

“No, not like Beyoncé. Xiochitl.”

“I’m sorry. Uh yes, I see your name on the list. He’s in room 2060.”

“Thanks.”

Like Beyoncé. Tuh. I walked to the bank of elevators and waited with a few other people that were standing there. The doors opened and we got in. Luckily I was the only one going to the top floor. Once the others had gotten off, the elevator finally stopped at the 2oth floor. It was quiet. Almost too quiet.

I looked at the sign to see which way to go and turned left. His room was in the corner of the hall at the end. I looked at the window, fixing my wig. I rang the doorbell. I waited a few seconds then heard someone coming to the door. He opened the door completely naked, dick hard. He wastes no time.

“Glad you made it. Did you find it okay?”

“Who doesn’t know this hotel?” I said sarcastically, walking in, pulling my gloves tighter.

He had furnished the place nicely. Gold trim, black suede couches, a pool table, typical bachelor’s pad. There were pieces of art on the wall, all naked women in sexual positions.

“Where’s the bedroom?”

“My kind of woman. This way.”

I followed him down the hall to a room that was the size of my downstairs kitchen. For a place like this you would think the bedroom would be bigger. I threw my bad at the head of the bed and took off my coat. I wore nothing underneath. I knew this was going to be a messy job and didn’t want to leave any evidence I had been here.

He came up behind me and kissed my neck, squeezing my breasts. I pushed him off.

“Lay down.”

He quickly got in the bed and laid on his back. I secured each limb with some rope to the four bed posts. I could see his chest rising and falling quickly. He must’ve taken something.

“What did you pop?”

“Ecstasy and a molly.”

Figures.

“Aren’t you going to take your gloves off?”

Ignoring him, I took out my whip and let the tassels run up his leg before I snapped it against his chest. He groaned and his eyes grew wild. I pulled out a condom and climbed between my legs, taking the condom out the wrapper and sliding it down his dick with my mouth, sucking as I went down.

I didn’t have much time and needed this to be quick before the real escort got here. I straddled him and slid down slowly, watching his wild eyes. They were beginning to turn read. I rode him up and down, bouncing fast and hard. I could see him foaming at the mouth. Fuck, this was going to be shitty.

He writhed under me as he came. I got off before he could finish.

“Why’d you get off?” he seethed. “I was fucking cumming.!”

“Yeah, I know, but then I thought about it and decided you didn’t deserve it.”

“I paid you $2,000!”

“No, you paid Xiochtil $2,000.”

“What?”

I took off my wig and threw it in my bag, and then pulled off the silicon mask Tyrell made for me. His eyes got big.

“Fucking Sage!”

“Damn fucking right.”

“What is this?”

“You fucked me over, now it’s time for payback.”

“What you’re going to leave me here tied up?”

I pulled out my syringe and placed it in one of his needle marks on his arm. He screamed and tried to move, but I knew this place had sound proof walls.

“I have cameras,” he foamed.

“My team has already taken care of that.”

I injected his arm with potassium chloride, only enough that he would die slowly. All it would do was stop his heart. He began seizing and foaming at the mouth. With the drugs in his system, they would think he overdosed. I untied his arms and legs and put everything back in my bag. Giving the room a once over as his body moved about wildly, veins popping out of his neck, I put on the mask , wig and coat.

When I got to the door of the bedroom, I remembered the condom. I walked back in and took  it off, placing it in a Ziploc bag in my bag’s side pocket. My head snapped when I heard the sound of the front door unlocking.

“Shit!” I whispered.

Grabbing I bag, I ran to the window.

“Will?” called out a female voice.

I opened the window to a fire escape.

“Yes!”

I climbed out and closed the window behind me. I peeked in as a woman came in the room. When she realized he was dead, she screamed. Then another person came in.

“Jeremy!”

I felt the blood boiling under my skin. That piece of shit. Why is he here? I ran down the fire escape. I dialed my sisters number.

“We have a motherfucking problem!”

Short Stories

Perish Island: A Short Thriller (Chapter 1)

It was the third time that I had woken up from the same dream. It was always the same. Scary. Daunting. Unreal. I could never figure out why I kept dreaming about the same thing. Was it trying to warn me? Tell me something? Or was it just a side effect from the pint of ice cream I had last night before bed?

I looked at the bed side clock. It was barely 3. That had to be a sign too. I laid in bed staring at the ceiling, checking everything off the list I had for things I had packed. Socks. Check. Underwear. Check. Pants. Check. Bra. Check. By the time I had gone through the list, t was 3:12. I rolled over and closed my eyes. Drifting back to sleep. The dream continued.

I was running through the woods! Someone, or something was chasing me. I couldn’t seem to shake them, or it. I heard the footsteps running after me, but barely over the sound of my heart racing. I was coming to the edge of a cliff, nothing but roaring waters down below. I still heard the footsteps, running.

I saw the shadows but I couldn’t tell from which direction. Was it more than one? I weighed my options. If I jump, I die by drowning. If I stay here and get captured, I die. Neither option had a good ending so I went with the first one and jumped. I screamed on the way down. I felt hands on my shoulders, someone shaking me and calling my name.

“Iris! Wake up! Iris! Iris!”

I jolted up in my bed. It was daylight. Already? How long had I been dreaming. I looked at the clock. It was 7 in the morning. I rubbed my eyes.

“You were having that dream again, weren’t you?” asked my sister, Tasia.

“Yeah, and I’m so sick of it. I don’t know what any of it means and I feel like something is going to happen soon. That I am going to actually live out this dream.”

“You know mom always said…”

“Yeah, mom always said, ‘My dear, you have the gift of premonitions. Use that gift wisely.’ But hell, I die in this so called premonition.”

“Well, maybe it’s not a premonition, maybe you’re just stressed about this trip. It’s a big story for you to try to uncover and you’re under a lot of pressure.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

“Well, you should probably be getting ready. I packed you some food for the bus and boat ride,” she sad before leaving.

“Thanks,” I called after her.

I showered and got dressed. Bringing my suitcase down the stairs, I could hear the television.

“Breaking News! We just got word that the storms are brewing around Perish Island. Any travelers, we highly advise that you hold off on your trip until the storms have passed.”

I walked in as my sister turned to look at me, with that look in her eyes.

“Tasia, don’t be silly. That storm could end up going the other way.”

“Iris, you know the stories behind that island, which is why you’re going there. You know it’s dangerous as is and now these storms? You want to risk your life just for some views on your blog?”

“Tasia it’s more than that. You know I want my blog to turn into a source of income and for other bloggers and websites to take me seriously. All of these pieces lately haven’t been as buzzworthy and you know I can’t stand celebrity gossip.”

“I know but still, I worry. We are all we have left,” she sulked.

“We have Jermail.”

“You have Jermail.”

“Hey, you know he loves you too.”

“Just be careful.”

“I promise,” I said as I went over and hugged her.

“I’m glad Jermail is going with you.”

“I’m glad he is too,” I lied.

I hadn’t told my sister that Jermail and I had broken up a week ago and that I was doing this trip solo, hence why we broke up. He didn’t approve of me going alone, so I ended things. But I definitely wasn’t about to tell her that.

I heard the horn of the Uber and got my things and food she packed for me. She stood at the door and watched me off. I looked out the back window and waved. At that moment, I now realized, I should’ve never gone to Perish Island.

Short Stories

Short Story Sunday 3/5/2017 (Her Hustle in Paris)

Danisha and Darnell

I walked my sister to the door, hugged and kissed her and watched until she drove off. Anissa was right though. It wouldn’t hurt to call Darnell. As I walked up the stairs, I scrolled through my phone for his number. Then his face popped up on my screen. He was FaceTiming me. I ran to the bathroom to look in the mirror and made sure I was presentable. I took a deep breath in and out and answered.

“Hey Darnell.”

“Hey Danisha. Is this a bad time?”

“No. My sister just left.”

“Oh, ok. Well, how are you?”

“Fine. And you?”

“You still tricking?”

I glared at him in the phone. He kept a straight face. He hadn’t cracked a smile since we had been talking. I laid on the bed.

“No, Darnell, I am not still tricking and I never have.”

“Your girlfriend?”

“She moved to Tokyo. Why are you asking all these questions about my personal life? We haven’t spoken in months and you want to know who I’m fucking or who I’m with?”

“I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t interrupting anything.”

“What did you call me for Darnell?”

“I moved to Houston last week and wanted to see if you wanted to get together some time and just talk.”

I threw the phone at the wall and regretted it as soon as it had left my hand. “That fucking bastard!” I grabbed my pillow and screamed into it. Then, the doorbell rang. My heart pounded faster. I walked slowly down the stairs as it rang again. I looked through the peep hole and it was Darnell. How the fuck did he know where I lived?

“I know you’re here Danisha.”

Dammit! I swung the door open.

“What the entire absolute fuck are you doing here Darnell?”

He grabbed my waist and kissed me. He slammed the door behind him. He lifted me and I wrapped my legs around him. He leaned me down on the couch and slipped his hands into my shorts. He fingered me so softly. He took my shirt off and pulled the cups of my bra down, exposing and attacking my breasts, continuing to finger me. I moaned in his ear and grabbed the back of his neck. With my free hand, I grabbed his dick, which was already hard. I pulled it out his pants and stroked it.

He kept biting my breasts and fingering me a little faster. He stopped and pulled my shorts off. Grabbing a condom out of his shorts, he put it on and took his shoes and pants off. He climbed back on top and kissed me. I grabbed his dick and put it in, forgetting how big it was. He filled me and I let out a loud moan. He kept stroking deeper, harder and faster. I kept screaming, not being able to control myself and the heat between us. He rolled over on the couch, putting me on top. I rode and rode him. He sucked my breasts and smacked my ass. He was so damn big. I didn’t even hear the door open and my sister screamed. I kept going.

“Sorry, I’ll go upstairs,” she said as she took off.

Darnell laughed and I kept going, ignoring what was going on. I had been thinking about this moment for the longest. He turned us to the side and hit it as hard as he could. He lifted me and laid me on the couch, stroking deeper and faster.

“Fuck me Darnell! Fuck me!”

He turned me over and hit it from the back, bending me over deeper. His strokes grew more aggressive, causing me to scream louder. I had forgot all about my sister. He flipped me over again, stroking harder. I think he was at his peak. He lifted one of my legs and hooked a finger around my big toe and stroked deeper. I screamed because he had gone too deep. He grunted and groaned in my ear and then pulled out. Putting his shoes and pants back on, he left and didn’t turn around. Not a single word.

Short Stories, Uncategorized

Short Story Sunday 2/5/2017 (The Virgin)

Restaurant Antics

When I walked in the restaurant, Wayne was sitting in a corner by himself. He looked as good as he always did. I made sure to wear something extremely low cut and extremely short. He claims he wasn’t a virgin but tonight we were going to see about that. I sauntered over to the table and he looked up at me. He was speechless.

I watched him swallow hard and saw beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Perfect. I knew that his cock had to be hard now. I sat across from him. And made sure to stick my already large chest out. He couldn’t take his eyes off of my breasts. The waiter came over and took our drink orders and then left. I smiled at him as he finally lifted his eyes to my face.

“This is a nice restaurant,” I said.

“Yeah, it is. It’s my favorite,” he replied.

He took a few sips of his water. I couldn’t help the fact that my inner goddess was doing summersaults at his expense. This man had no idea what he was in for. Little did he know, I booked the entire restaurant for the night so we could have privacy.

“It must be a slow night,” he said.

I shrugged as if it didn’t matter to me. The waiter came back with our drinks and took our food orders. After he left, I took my heels off and placed my feet on either side of his cock. Oh, yeah, he was hard. He moved my feet away quickly and his light, brown skin turned red.

“What are you doing? That’s extremely inappropriate.”

“I’m sorry. Guess I got the wrong idea,” I said sarcastically.

He eyed me up and down, stopping at my breasts.

“What I find inappropriate is that you keep staring at my breasts,” I said.

“Well, you got them all out for everyone to see!”

“If you want to keep staring at my breasts, unzip your pants and pull your dick out.”

He looked me in my eyes and he didn’t know what to say. He was in shock that I could even say anything like that. At work I keep the explicit language to a minimum, but outside of work, I say, and do, as I please with it.

“What if somebody sees?” he whispered.

“Trust me, nobody will.”

He looked around and put his hands under the table. I heard his zipper go down. When his hands were back on the table, I leaned forward and grabbed his cock. He gasped as I stroked him up and down. His breathing increased. He tried to keep cool and pretend nothing was happening. He moved closer to the edge of his seat so I could get a good grip on his full length. The waiter came back with our food.

The look on Wayne’s face was priceless because I didn’t stop jerking him off. I kept my eyes on him and he kept his on me. I felt his whole body stiffen. He was about to release and the waiter was still there placing the food on the table. He put a hand under the table and tried to get me to stop but it was too late. He let out a yell and guided my hand faster up and down his length. The waiter paid no attention and walked away. Wayne’s release was all over my hand. I licked it all off. He watched, still breathing hard and zipping his pants.

“Why didn’t you stop and why are you licking my, you know, off your hand?”

“You really are a virgin aren’t you?” I asked quizzically.

He nodded and started eating his food. I smiled. This was going to be fun. Even though he was 20 years older than me, I get to show and teach him a few things. I ate my food and we talked about music. That was all we ever really talked about. Music was his thing. He liked rap, R&B, old school and a lot more. We had similar tastes in artists and genres. This man had no idea the things I thought about doing to him. If only he knew. I got up and sat next to him, undoing his pants again. He grabbed my hands.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to suck your dick.”

“What?” he exclaimed.

“You heard me.”

He moved his hands, slowly, and I pulled his dick out again. He got bold and touched my breasts.

“You can pull them out if you want,” I smiled.

He didn’t move so I pulled them out for him. He grabbed both of them and put his cock in my mouth. It was so big.

“Ah,” he groaned.

He pinched my nipples and I felt my pussy start to get wet. Sooner or later, I was going to have to fuck him. I heard footsteps coming towards us and I got under the table, still sucking his dick.

“Will there be any dessert, sir?”

I grazed his cock with my teeth and he jumped.

“Uh, uh, no, that’s, that’s all,” he stammered.

The waiter was clearing the table. He was going particularly slow. What Wayne didn’t know was that this was apart of my plan. I wanted to break him out of his shell. I was going to make him cum while the waiter was standing there. I guess Wayne finally broke out of it because next thing I know he grabbed my head and was thrusting his hips forward, fucking my mouth. He let out a loud groan and released down my throat. The waiter pretended not to notice and Wayne seemed a bit angry. The waiter left and Wayne yanked me out from under the table.

“I don’t know what kind of game you’re trying to play but this is wrong,” he seethed.

“How is it wrong?” I asked, leaning back, playing with my hard nipples.

He watched me and jumped forward and grabbed one with his teeth. He bit down hard, making me yelp a little. He moved his hand up my thigh to my dripping pussy. I had no panties on. He inserted two fingers and fingered my clit with his thumb. He hit both my g-spot and my clit at the same time. I was moaning louder now. The waiter came back and filled our wine glasses, ignoring us. I saw his cock start to bulge and I grabbed it, Wayne not even noticing.

I quickly unzipped the waiter’s pants and his hard, black cock fell out. I pulled him to my lips and teased his shaft with my tongue. I tasted his pre-cum. He was young. Maybe 20 or so. I stared in his eyes as I sucked his young cock. He came quickly and I licked his dick clean. I nodded my head back and he left. Wayne sped up his fingers on my g-spot and my clit. I came hard, yelling out. I pushed him back and quickly straddled him. I was going to fuck his big virgin dick so good. I slid down him fast and he breathed in deeply. I rode him hard and fast, barely giving him a chance to breath.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he moaned.

He smacked my ass and bit down on my nipple hard. He was liking this.

“Yeah, ride it faster,” he growled against my nipple.

I bounced up and down fast and he grabbed my hips to pull me deeper. My breasts bounced up and down in his face and I felt his dick get harder. He was growling like a beast now. It was so turning me on. I let out a yell as I climaxed. My body convulsed and he followed. I got off him and licked both of our release off his dick. As it softened I took one of the table napkins to wipe myself clean. He stopped me.

“Get on the table and lay back in front of me,” he said. To be honest, I was a bit shocked.

“You’re not a virgin are you?”

“No, I’m not, now stop wasting time,” he smiled.

I got on the table and spread my legs towards him. I leaned back and I instantly felt his skilled tongue licking up my cum. It felt so fucking good. He buried his face deeper between my legs as he ate my pussy. I grabbed his bald head and squeezed his face with my thighs. I arched my back at the sensation as he nibbled on my clit ever so slightly. He pressed his tongue up against me harder and swirled it around.

I exploded in his mouth and screamed loud in pleasure. He licked up all my cum, slowly. When he was done, I got off the table and we fixed our clothes. He left the money on the table and we headed to exit the restaurant. Our waiter was standing there to say good bye. As I whispered in his ear that I left him a tip and my number on the table, I grabbed his cock and gave it a slight squeeze. He stiffened and we left the restaurant.

Short Stories

Short Story Sunday 1/29/17 Friend Zone

He lay awake staring at her as she slept. She was so beautiful. They had been best friends for years and through all of her boyfriends, he had been there to pick up the pieces. He loved her and not in a best friend kind of way. He had always been too afraid to tell her, but now he just didn’t know. They always had sleepovers, but tonight was different.

He watched her breasts rise and fall as she breathed. Her skin glistened from the moonlight, shining through the window. It was a beautiful shade of brown. He wanted to grab her nipples, suck on them even, but he was too afraid of her reaction. he started to think about the day that he saw her completely naked for the first time.

It was about six years ago. She had gone through puberty so quickly. Her breasts were large and full. Her pussy was well groomed and the way her curves looked when she walked made his dick quiver. He didn’t know back then that what he was feeling was sexual attraction to his best friend. It could’ve even been romantic.

A while back they had started to sleep together naked. Never touching. She loved being naked and had no problem with it. Of course, he took any opportunity that came along for him to see her naked.

Her moaning interrupted his thoughts. She breathed heavily and he knew exactly what was happening. Before he could even think about it, he was already opening her legs and parting her pussy lips. He could smell her arousal. He licked her clit and it tasted so sweet. She kept moving and thrusting her hips against his lips. She grabbed his head and he knew she was awake. She moaned and screamed as her body convulsed. Her juices squirted into his mouth and he sucked them all up. When she stopped moving, he lifted his head to look at her.

She was still asleep. He knew this was his only chance. She had always been a hard sleeper and this was his chance to explore her body. He kissed his way up to her breasts. Her nipples were hard. He grabbed one and she gasped. She pushed him off and jolted to a sitting position.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she yelled.

“I just thought that…”

“Thought that I would want you to touch me like that? Aren’t you gay?”

“No, I…I…”

She laughed and He was confused. When she stopped and stared at him, for the first time, he could not read what she was thinking. She gave him a sly smile and laid back down. She started to play with her nipples and fondle her clit. It got him so hard and aroused. He turned the bedside lamp on so he could see her. She was so beautiful. He wanted to make her come over and over. She deserved it.

After all the guys that treated her like shit, he wanted to be the one who was there for her for her every need. He moved her hand from her clit and got between her legs. He rested his hard dick against her clit and slid it back and forth, around and around. Her wet pussy made his temperature rise. He leaned down and grabbed her breast with his teeth. She let out a loud moan. He felt himself about to come and the way she moved under him, so was she. She screamed and he moaned.

He looked down at her and smiled. She called his name over and over and then he felt himself being shaken. Everything went black. He woke up and she was shaking him. Had it been a dream? Please tell me that wasn’t a dream, he thought. She looked down at him in concern.

“You were moaning and screaming,” she said, “I didn’t know what was happening.”

The whole time she was talking, he couldn’t take his eyes off her body. She looked at him with a confused look. He sat up and look at her.

“I want you. I’ve always wanted you. Through everything we’ve been through together, I’ve always wanted to be more than just your friend. Every time I see you naked, I want to touch, lick, kiss and hold you. I want to be the reason you have orgasms. I want to make you feel like you’re worth something.”

She stared at him in shock. He couldn’t believe he had just said that. He expected her to look at him in disgust and get up and leave. Instead she softly kissed his lips. It was so soft and sweet. She parted his lips with her tongue. He leaned her back onto the bed and ran his hands all over her body. He glided his index finger between her pussy slit and across her clit. She moaned against his lips.

He pressed firmly against it and made circles. She broke their kiss and screamed. He grabbed her breast and sucked hard. His middle finger slid inside, massaging her G-Spot, she moved against his hand. He wanted her to come so bad. Her pussy closed around his finger and she let out a loud scream of pleasure. She rolled on top of him and pressed her pussy, still dripping wet with her juices, against his own arousal. She kissed him hard and her nipples hard against his chest made his dick pulsate.

He guided her hips and moved her onto his dick. She threw her head back, pushing her breasts into his face. She came hard and he followed. He was so happy that this was finally happening. She kissed his mouth, neck, chest, stomach and then his inner thighs. His legs shook as she moved her lips to his full balls. She swirled her tongue around and he ran his hands through her kinky hair.

She grabbed his balls and took his entire girth into her throat. At that moment, he knew he was in love with her. He didn’t want to come like this so he moved her off of him and rolled off the bed. He smiled at her and she quickly laid down. He shook his head.

“On you’re knees and bring your ass to the edge of the bed, facing me,” he said.

She moved quickly. He entered her and felt her tense up and then relax. He moved in and out, slowly at first and then increased the speed. Her screaming made him go faster and that made the sensation more intense.

“Fuck me!” she yelled.

He gripped her hips and moved as fast as he could. His balls slapping against her pussy made this even more worth it. He pulled on her breasts as he moved back and forth. He couldn’t take it anymore and lost all sense of everything as he came. He barely heard her screams over his groans. He pulled out and their pleasure was all over his dick, running down his balls. She turned around and licked it all off. He tensed as his dick was still sensitive.

“Lay on your back,” he told her.

He was going to make love to her now. Yeah, fucking was okay but she was special to him. He always thought of her as more than a best friend. He climbed between her legs and entered inside her, dick still pulsating. They kissed and groped each other. He spread her thighs and squeezed her round plump ass. He moved in and out of her slowly. She moaned softly.

“I love you,” he whispered.

She looked him in the eyes and tears rolled out. He was almost afraid that he had just ruined their friendship, even a possible relationship.

“I love you, too, but only as a friend,” she sobbed.

He kissed her tears and continued to make love to her, burying his now tear dripping face in her hair. His heart was breaking, but he couldn’t stop making love to her. He had hoped that there was even the slightest chance that she could ever love him. They both came and he got off of her. They laid there in silence. He could feel her looking at him, but kept his eyes on the ceiling.

“I’ve always known that you loved me, but I just don’t see you that way,” she said.

“Then why did you have sex with me?”

“Because I knew you wanted to and I did too. I wanted to touch you and be touched by you. I know how much you care for me, but I’m just not romantically into you.”

He kept staring at the ceiling. After awhile, he could hear her breathe softly. He looked over and she was sleeping peacefully, still so beautiful after being thoroughly fucked and made love to. He turned off the light on the night stand and wrapped his arms around her. He still loved her and still had hope that one day, she would love him too.

Financial Advice, My Life

Money in Relationships

A while back, someone I follow on IG made a post about why men don’t take women on dates. Now he had some great points, I will admit, but it also brought up another topic that has been on my mind. In my past relationships, I have always been broke. Relationships can be expensive if it is only one person footing the bills. That person has always been me except for one relationship. I have always gone broke putting gas in a man’s car, putting gas in my car when he didn’t have one or if I ended up driving because he didn’t have gas in the car. I spent money on dates, often times paying for myself. Now I am not saying that a man should be paying for everything, but if we are in a courtship, I feel the man should be the man. I don’t think I should be the breadwinner and the one collecting and paying the bills. That’s just not how I see things. 

I have always made the mistake of not seeing these broke men from a mile a way, or staying in these one-sided relationships, putting myself in even more debt. When will it be my turn to be splurged on? When will I ever hear, “Baby, I got it.”? For me, if a man can’t afford to pay all of my bills, he can’t afford me. I am not saying this to say that I am looking for someone to pay my bills, because I can do that myself, however, universe forbid, if I lost my job, I need and want that security that my King has me, that I don’t have to worry about anything. I think every woman wants that security that her man has her. 

Now this all goes vice verse, I would have my man too, but I am not talking about that right now. In my courtship, relationship, marriage, what have you, I feel like the man should be the one taking care of things financially. This is not to say that I won’t be working and helping out, but I also will be taking care of home, making sure the bills are paid, cooking, cleaning, raising and schooling the kids, etc. 

I know that money should not be the main focus of a relationship, but when two people come together, it needs to be talked about and discussed as far as how things will be paid. Just like sex, money is the one of the leading causes of divorce. People don’t like to talk money especially when it comes to spending it, but it is a necessary conversation. Questions need to be asked like:

Do we combine accounts?

Do we keep separate accounts?

Do we combine and have accounts on the side?

How are we going to pay the bills?

Who pays what bills?

Will we set aside money for trust funds? College? If so, do we open a joint account or one in the children’s names?

Things like that have to be discussed. My point is, if a man is not prepared to talk money in this essence, we can’t have any kind of conversation. I’m talking about if and when it gets that serious that we should be discussing money. I have been in too many relationships where I was expected to do everything monetarily as if I were the man in the relationship and the breadwinner, which often times I was. I made the stupid mistake of staying with these men even though they were causing me to go broke.

I’m not looking for someone to take care of me because I can do that myself and have been. I want someone who can take care of me when I need it most. Someone who will make me allow them to take care of me and let me know it’s okay and that I don’t have to do things alone and for myself all the time.

Please let me know your thoughts in the comments below.

Short Stories, Sneak Peeks

Short Story Sunday 1/22/17 She Devil

Sage (this is a short story that will probably me made into a full length novel, stay tuned)

Soon as Sage walked into the office, Jay couldn’t wait for the meeting to be over. He felt his dick hardening as he looked at her large breasts, practically popping out of her shirt. He tried to calm himself but he couldn’t help it. This presentation was in the way of him getting his dick in her mouth, her pussy and titty fucking her. She was knew to the office and he couldn’t wait to give her his own, personal welcome.

Her long, kinky brown hair, brown eyes and plush lips. She was paying attention to the meeting and he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. Once this excruciating meeting was over, he would tell her to stay behind. She all of a sudden looked up at him and he smiled and gave a small wave. She smiled back and turned her attention back to the presentation. She wanted the D, he thought. He knew she wanted it.

The presenter stopped talking and everyone applauded. They all began to leave out, including her.

“Ms. Porter, could you stay behind please,” he said as he got up and closed the door, locking it after the last person.

She was still sitting there smiling, knowing what he was about to do to her. He put his hands in his pockets and smiled back, walking around the table. He sat in the chair next to her.

“I’m Jay, by the way.”

“Yes, I know who you are. You’re the boss man. I’m Sage, the new intern.”

“Yes, right. How do you like the job so far?”

“It’s going pretty well and I’m learning a lot.”

“That’s good. I love to hear that.”

He sat back in his chair and eyed her. His dick was bulging through his pants and she looked down at it. She pretended to look a bit shocked. He grabbed it with his hand and stroked it. She looked at him with those gorgeous eyes.

“Let me tell you something Sage, I always get what I want around here and to move up, sometimes you have to comply with my wants.”

“Well, what do you want?”

“Right now, I want to fuck your mouth, your pussy and your breasts and it doesn’t have to be in that exact order.”

He watched as she swallowed. Oh how she could be swallowing his cum, he thought. He unzipped his pants and let his hard, fat, black dick fall out. He was aggressive and that’s how he liked it. Her eyes grew large.

“Is this appropriate?” she asked, making her voice quiver.

“In this office it is.”

“Do you fuck all of your interns?”

“Yes, I do.”

“And you’ve never been caught?”

“Obviously not if I’m sitting here about to fuck you.”

He leaned forward and grabbed her hand and placed it around his erection. He pulled her chair closer and guided her hand up and down his length. When he let go, she stopped.

“Keep going,” he growled.

She moved her hand up and down, watching his face. His breath hitched and she felt him harden even more in her hand. She felt herself getting wet. This man was sexy as hell and she had to admit to herself that she couldn’t wait to fuck him. His breath quickened as he opened her shirt and pulled her cups down exposing her breasts. He bit her nipple and pinched the other, making her gasp.

He moved his hand up her thigh and felt her legs shake. When he felt her pussy, he realized she wasn’t wearing any underwear. She was still jacking him off when he felt himself about to release, he laid back in the chair and guided her hand up and down him faster. He squirted cum all over her clothes as he groaned in pleasure.

“Won’t they hear you?” she asked.

“This room is sound proof. Now take off your clothes and lay on the table,” he demanded as he stood up and pulled his pants down.

She removed her shirt and bra and slid her skirt off. She stepped out of her heels and laid on the table. He watched her as he took off his shirt. He climbed on to the table in between her legs.

“Now, this is going to get real aggressive and hard,” he said as he slammed into her.

She yelled out and he fucked her like a wild animal. It did hurt at first, but then it became so arousing. He growled like a savage and the smacking sound of his balls hitting her pussy made him harder inside her. She expected him to kiss her but he didn’t. This was just a fuck to him. He gripped her hips as he pushed deeper in her. He ignored her screaming. He was about to release again and pulled out, spraying his pleasure all over her stomach. She looked at him as his face scrunched up.

“Ah,” he said.

He got off the table and swung her around towards him, pulling her off the table. He turned her around and bent her over. He slammed in her again. She yelled out in surprise. He was going harder now that he had more stability.

“Ah, yes,” he said.

“I’m going to love fucking you every day that you’re here.”

She didn’t say anything, for she had a plan of her own before she was even hired. Finally, she felt herself getting ready to release. He sped up as if knowing she was and she screamed and convulsed as he kept going. He found his release all over her back. He collapsed in the chair and she stood up.

“Now, let me fuck your mouth,” he demanded.

She got on her knees and grabbed his still hard dick. He swatted her hand away.

“Just your mouth,” he said.

She put him in her mouth and he grabbed her head, moving in and out of her mouth. He was amazed at how deep he could go and her amazing gag reflex. Just then the side door opened and it was his colleague, Derrick. She heard the door and tried to get up but he had a good grip on her.

He was still fucking her mouth when Derrick undressed and knelt behind her. He lifted her hips and forcefully entered her. She had a dick in her mouth and one in her pussy. Derrick was breathing hard. That first nut came too quickly and he released on her back before entering her again. Jay released down throat. He pulled his dick out but Derrick kept fucking her.

Jay pushed his chair back and laid underneath her, his head between her legs. She felt his tongue attacking her clitoris. It was so much pleasure and she could barely handle it. Jay had her hips and Derrick had her thighs. Between the two of them she could barely move. When she released, it took over her entire body. Both her clitoral and vaginal orgasm took every ounce of energy she had. She collapsed on top of Jay, not being able to move. Derrick picked her up and laid her on her back. She now got to see his face and he was a fucking gorgeous man.

He spread her legs and laid his head in between them. He was much more sensitive to her clitoris. Jay straddled her chest and laid his dick in between her breasts. He held her breasts together, tight around him.

“Hold them,” he ordered.

When she did, he moved back and forth, pushing his dick rapidly between them. He looked down at her as he saw the pleasure on her face from Derrick’s tongue on her pussy. Derrick was a lot better at it than Jay. Derrick was stroking his own dick as he licked all around and in and out her pussy. Jay came first, all over her face.

“Fucking shit!” he yelled and went faster.

His cum covered her entire face. He got off of her and she came in Derrick’s mouth. She grabbed his head and moved it around in between her legs. Derrick then came fast and hard. Sage saw Jay sit in a chair and stroke his still erect dick, watching them. Derrick stood up and directed her to sit in the chair. He walked towards her and put his dick to her mouth. She opened and he slid all the way in. He grabbed each side of her head and fucked her mouth viciously.

She cupped his balls and watched Jay beat his dick, getting off as he watched them like a porno. Derrick threw his head back as he thrust his hips faster. She felt his balls swell and knew he was about to release. He pulled out and ejaculated on her chest. She took her finger and wiped some off, putting it in her mouth looking into his eyes. The look she gave him made his knees weak. He knew this woman would be trouble.

They both turned as Jay released on the table. Derrick began to get dressed and so did Sage.

“Same time and place tomorrow?” Jay asked.

“Naw,” said Derrick, “This was a one time thing.”

Sage smirked and walked towards a shelf by the door. She moved a book over and took the camera that she had hidden behind it before the meeting. Both men stared in horror. She walked out, smiling to herself. She had played her cards right and was about to have these men’s balls in the palm of her hands.

Short Stories

Short Story Sunday 1/15/2017 (Her Hustle Shorts)

Darnell: Sunday Night Chronicles

Darnell watched Darnisha as she walked out of the bathroom, stunned. He knew his boy had given her the time of her life. Hell, he paid him a shit ton of money to do it. Payback is a bitch when you fuck with me, he thought. He loved this woman, but he knew they could never be together, given their past.

He followed her as she left the club. He watched as she walked down the street, alone. She and Darnell had been through so much. Getting caught by his ex-wife busting inside Darnisha was probably the best thing to ever happen to him. As a well-known lawyer? It kind of tainted his profile but it was still worth it. To find out his kids weren’t even his, he owed it to Darnisha.

He must’ve been in deep thought because before he knew it, she was getting in a cab. Should I follow? he wondered. Would I look like a stalker? Man, fuck it. He hailed a cab and told the man to tail them. It was only 10 minutes before they stopped in front of the W Hotel. He paid the cab and followed her inside.

This man walked up to her and she must’ve known him because they hugged and kissed on the cheek. Darnell had never seen him before or heard her mention him. Then again, they weren’t close like they used to be. He followed them to the elevator and squeezed to the back, unnoticed. He pulled his hood down over his face.

After a few floors, she pushed a button and the elevator stopped. What the hell? She got on her knees and began sucking this man’s dick. Darnell’s dick stirred at the thought of her mouth on his, reminiscing on how it felt.

He watched as she got sloppy with it, spitting on it, slurping, deep-throating the man. Darnell felt the anger rising inside him. Since when did she have no morals and perform oral in front of a stranger, even though it was him?

Darnisha pulled the man’s pants down to grip his ass and pull him deeper down her throat. The man let out a loud, deep throated moan, putting his hands on the wall to brace himself. Darnell turned towards the wall and kept his head down, but kept an eye on them. He had never seen her in action on another person other than himself. It was like watching porn that he could never afford.

She pulled him out her mouth and let him spray against the wall. She stood up, lifted her skirt, pulled out a condom from her breast, slid it on the man and pushed him against the wall opposite of Darnell, so now they were facing each other. She turned her back to the man and looked Darnell dead in his eyes as she pushed her ass on the man’s still erect dick.

She knew all along that he was in the elevator and this was payback. She moved back and forth as the man gripped her ass, looking down as it hid his dick. Her facial expressions showing the intense pleasure of this man filling her. She wanted Darnell to watch as she pleased another man as well as pleased herself.

He stared at her for a few minutes. His whole body was on fire with rage. But then he thought, two can play that game. He quickly pulled his sweatpants down to expose his long, black, thick, hard cock and shoved it in her mouth before she had a chance to move or speak. He grabbed the back of her head as she grabbed his hips.

“What the fuck is this?” the man said, pushing her off of him.

“You were just in an innocent bystander in a game of tit for tat,” Darnell said, between grunts.

He pulled his pants up as Darnell kept his dick in and out of her mouth. He didn’t expect her to be enjoying it as much. He wanted her to be mad or at least annoyed that he ruined her plan. The other man pushed the button and it went up to the penthouse. He stayed in as Darnell threw Darnisha over his shoulder, dick still exposed and walked out. He set her down.

“Where’s the room key?” he asked.

“There was never a key,” she smirked.

He backed her up to the window and kissed her gently. He never stopped loving her, since they were kids. Even though he married her best friend, they still fucked around. His heart ached for her, but she just would not give in.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. She loved him, but she would never tell him that. He lifted her legs up wrapped them around his waist as he gently penetrated her soaking wet pussy. He felt her gasp on his lips and her body relax against him as he made love to her. He kissed her neck and felt the vibrations of her moans.

Placing his hands on the window, he pushed deeper. He knew how she liked it and how to get her off. But he didn’t want it to end. The adrenaline rush of anyone walking by at any moment took over. He knew that they were being watched on camera, but he didn’t care – he needed this.

He stared into her eyes as he thrust a little faster. That is when he saw it. The same look in her eyes the day he married her best friend. Pain. He knew that she never came back from that. He felt the tears swelling up in his eyes. He couldn’t bare to look at her anymore. He lifted her up, legs on his shoulders. He kissed the insides of her thighs, her moans louder now. All he could think about was what a piece of shit he was.

All the women he slept with during his marriage, with and without protection, playing with his life. He couldn’t have kids so that wasn’t an issue, but that fact was he could of easily ended his life with any one of the numerous women.

He buried his face in her sex and let the juices drip down his chin. Then it hit him, this was her third time having sex in one evening. He was going to make this count. He sucked and licked and followed the movements of her body. Her hips told him how to move and her bulging clit told him she was almost there. He moaned and she felt the vibrations against her clit, down her legs and to her toes. Hands against the window, she let out a scream as she came, squirting in his face. He lapped up all of her pleasure as his own came spewing out, running down his balls.

She was the only woman that could ever make him nut without out any kind of penetration. He slowly lowered her and they came face to face. She licked herself off of his face.

“You’re a son of a bitch, you know that?” she said, pulling her skirt down and then walking off, leaving him there, dick hanging, her cum on his face and an aching heart.

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