Anthony’s post on “How to Eat Pussy” really made my day when it came out because there are only two things I love more than getting eaten out. One of those two things is giving head.  Going down on a guy is one of my favourite things to do. There used to be a time when if you didn’t let me blow you I couldn’t get wet enough for sex and I have been known to moan from the sheer pleasure of doing it. The inside of my ... 

It’s difficult to explain the rush of fluids within my system every time I look at Kwame. And those fluids? All so delicious and welcome. They say you do not need to be with everyone you fall in love with, to be glad you even found love in the first place-I agree. I do not know what draws me to Kwame. Physically he is just okay. But when he spoke, he was my personal Michelangelo. I cannot forget my fingers on his lean, ... 

If I take a little bit of this May I have a little bit of that?   If she touches me here Surely I can touch you there?   And if you kiss her so Why would she tell me no?   If your moans are anything to go by Then I can’t help but sigh   And tremble And quiver And shake And love you And love her And watch her love you   Sweat drops ... 

Call for Submissions in Prose and Photography Thanks to the high interest in the new African LGBTI Anthology and the engaging poems we received in our original call for submissions in poetry, we’ve decided to expand the focus of the anthology to include prose – more specifically short fiction and short (creative) lyric essays – and some photography. As before, we encourage writers who identify as gay, ... 

“How did you find me?” Pomaa winced as Akoto dabbed her left eye with a cold, wet cloth. He whispered soothing apologies as he cleaned her wounds. “It was Freddie who actually found you,” he admitted. “He ran to get  me when he saw your car at the Children’s Playground.” Akoto frowned and gently took her hand. “What were you doing there at this time of night?” “Daydreaming,” she sighed. ... 

*Note: This next post has been written to the precise specifications that Abena Y set forth. I don’t like trouble!   The concrete floor grated like sandpaper beneath her feet. *Shhhh, shhhh, shhhh!* Every step was like a rebuke - a command to keep silent. In the gloom of the vast and barren pavilion there lay a small mattress. Pomaa’s captor commanded her to lay on it. He shoved her down when she ... 

No don’t let this title confuse you. I’m not saying that women are the weaker sex in fact that’s the last thing I’m trying to say but I just wanted to clarify before I continue. I’ve never had a lesbian experience although I have been approached by women on more occasions than I care to recall. I can be in a club/bar/public transport and women will just come up to me and compliment my figure and linger their gaze ... 

So these were to be the instruments of her torture. Six inch cloth strips. A flat wooden spatula. A bubbling pot of molten wax – all waiting to do the bidding of the grim faced Jamaican woman clothed in a white lab coat. In a few minutes – fewer if she was lucky – the beautician would wrench the hair from Frema’s dewy, exposed vagina. Pomaa found a corner in the waxing room and didn’t budge. She pled with Frema one ... 

I never came with you So I’m gonna go You never waved in the way you moved even when I showed you how to sway your waist your hands were upset that I asked for fast While you crushed my breast and thrust hard till I bleed I was looking through the window She waved back at me and I liked her fingers With her tongue on her teeth she laughed and led me to a cliff circling on my clit I lay ... 

  The entrance to the Amakom Children’s Park was a sad sight. The fence surrounding it had long fallen into disrepair, the ground was overrun with weeds and what were certainly once splendid shelters were reduced to ruins. It all seemed very ghostly, as though the souls of children who once played there and those at present who wished that they could might be mingling under the shade of drooping trees or near ...