So it was my first year of university and I had developed a teenage tendency to crush hard and assume that every man I met was the one. I was young I was naïve but the one thing I wasn’t lacking in was confidence…. or time on my hands.
The target of my youthful affection was my Humanities lecturer. At the time 6 years older than me was a lot and he had the cockiness of a man who knew everything. I had to have him. He had a gorgeous smile, could wax lyrical about feminism and yes, ok his body shape hinted at the cuddly frame he would have in later years but what did …

It has long been a dream of mine to be fucked in Twi, my mother tongue.  To have the language I was scolded in as a child used on me in the bedroom until my body was defenseless against an imminent orgasm. The world of languages and lust first collided for me during a summer in Europe’s sin city: Amsterdam. I met David, an immigrant from Spain who sounded more Puerto Rican than Sevillian, window shopping in the Red Light District one afternoon. I was talking to the tattoo artist under the premise that I wanted to add to my body art collection when he derailed my query about Chinese characters to proposition me for …

I’m fairly comfortable in bed with men. Most men are really not that difficult to please are they? Sometimes they get off by just gazing at your boobs or arse. Others like to have their nipples sucked. Some want to watch you touch yourself. Most men love to have their dicks sucked…so what do you do when you meet a guy who only likes one of the above? Oh and that ‘one’ is watching you touch yourself. Surely you can’t do that more than once during a set sexual encounter?
So it was just my luck to have an encounter with a man whose erotic zones are his ears, balls and feet? Balls are easy, but …

Okay.
So what is this?
Don’t men or women ever go straightforward in love anymore?
Do we have to do this perpetual swan dance?
Makes me sick. What with the power play already?
 
I like you, and you saw it; and because you were also feeling something for me, you made the first move and asked me out. But I can’t handle someone taking the game outta my hands, so no I won’t go out with you. In fact, I’ve lost interest in you for asking me out.
It means you like me, and it means I have nothing to conquer. So, know what? Let’s just be friends for now.
Let’s just be friends? … For now?
What does that even mean? Is …

I’ve never done this before! This being posting just a link on ‘Adventures’, BUT this link is to an article by bell hooks. bell hooks is the reason why I’m a feminist and so when my friend sent me a link to an article she had written on ‘Penis Passion ‘, I just had to share.
It’ll be good to hear your thoughts…

It has been a few minutes after 5:50pm, i.e. if you’re to assume the clock on the hallway wall is accurate. The psych group in the adjoining room left not long ago, and although you’re glad for the tranquility, you now realize you miss the need to concentrate their presence necessitated. It has also been about 8 hours since your morning econ class, and you reckon you’ve plowed through 600 pages of reading all things religion- from Mahayana Buddhism, to convoluted Sikh texts, to the Venerable Bede and 7th century English Monasticism. Why you thought taking three demanding religion courses is even too great a question for your acutely fried brain to process. You’re now …

Maybe this is inspired by my being scandalised watching Uti prance around the Big Brother house in his boxer-briefs, on day 87 of the just-concluded Big Brother All Stars.  It got me thinking… not because I was turned on in anyway.  His legs are too skinny for me. With my own small thighs it would be like stick-fighting in bed.
Anyway, the point here is this: do you care how the package is wrapped? Or is it just enough that there is a package in the first place?  Men these days go on about how we African women get too comfortable in a relationship and ditch the sexy lingerie …

It’s 10am and you’re at work, trying to focus on getting through your email and to ignore the half-wood you’ve had all morning. Flashbacks of a particularly wet dream you had last night are making this especially difficult. Your secretary walks in to hand you some papers and your erection throbs as you watch her leave, tits and perfectly round ass bouncing rhythmically with each high-heeled step. Merely seconds later, she pops her head around the door to say that you have a visitor and I walk in: stripper heels, trench-coat and nothing else. I drop the coat and sit, legs crossed, in the chair across from you. Neither of us has said a word …

The Initiation: the first encounter had happened the night before, and there were the usual fumbles and insecurities. We had been sending sexy text messages all morning, and finally I summed up enough courage to tell him what I liked and what I wanted. It didn’t quite start off so formal, but given his management background thought it would be a good route to use. Needless to say the directions given were followed to a‘t’.
Dear Mr. X,
I was happy when my phone died as I thought I could then focus on the work that is at hand, rather than the work to be done later. Suffice to say I kept scrolling back to your …

A few weeks ago I started going out with this incredibly hot guy.
Beautiful eyes and smile, insane body, amazing skin; the works. Aside
from his pleasing-to-the-eye looks, he’s also a sweetheart. He’s
surprisingly unassuming and I just feel comfortable around him. I was
floating high on “new crush fumes” until last week when we had sex.
Disappointment does not even begin to scratch the surface of what I
felt during and afterwards. Firstly, let’s just say our friend is not
well-endowed. This is something I’m not too used to but I was willing
to work with it if he was. Well he wasn’t. It was the type of sex
where the man think a perfunctory squeeze of your breasts is enough to
get you …