anonymous4:I have showed my best friend your profile, and have expressed how much I wishu were in Alabama. Its no secret that we would both love having you as our own, maybe even at the same time. So how would you handle having 2 black men in the same room with you. Both stroking at just the sight of your beautiful body, yearning to taste you, fuck you. Please you. I must know. I have so many fantasies about you, this is one of many.
me: as you learn more about my fantasies you will find out ive always wanted to be owned by two best friends or b*****rs. I also adore black men. for part of my twenties i totally abandoned all my white friends and only hung out with my group of sexy black men. It all started when i met this super hot black boy who went by the name pooh bear. My friend told me i would fuck him. I told her i had never been attracted to a black man and if the racist woman that raised me found out i was with a black dude my f****y would disown me. She was right. I met him. I never wanted a man that bad in my life. I fucked him that night.
His cock was so huge he had to be gentle with me but i know how sexy we looked slamming into each other with my pale white skin contrasting against his dark skin. He knew how to own me and even though he was careful not to hurt me with that huge cock he got me off hard being much rougher than any of the white dudes i ever fucked. He told me that i had a big fat pussy. I was so naive that i thought it was a bad thing. He let me know that nothing is sexier than a chick with a big fat pussy mound like i have. We spent every day smoking blunts with our boys. Pooh bear explained that he liked to fuck a chick and treat her like a dirty whore. He was so sexy so young he had black women in his complex pay him to get fucked by that huge cock. After that he decided he wasnt attracted to black women and he got off using dumb skanks. He told me I was too good for that. He was one of many dudes that decided if they could be around me they would rather be talking to me than fucking me. We still fucked sometimes. He let me know i was his number one bitch.
Young white chicks chased his dick constantly. We would be hanging out and they would show up. If they had money to buy us pot we let them stay. Those bitches knew damn well they had to get me a blunt if they wanted to chase my man. I had no problem with him fucking other chicks. I kind of got off seeing them treated like trash when i got treated like a queen. Life was easy. I went to college in the morning then i went to my boy’s house. we had no tv. we would spend all afternoon turning pounds of weed into nick and dime sacks. I smoked for free. They loved me. Instead of watching tv we sat there going back and forth with lyrics. It was rap for them. It was poetry for me. I can rhyme and i know words. They could hit me up for the next lyric and i could bust it out in my sweet white girl southern accent. I have never used the N word in a bad way. I got laughed at because i did learn to use it as a greeting. ‘what up my niggah’ was hello. I got teased because of my accent and the fact i tried to say it and it came out racist pronouncing the ‘er’ It wasn’t on purpose. I just seemed unable to say it without using proper grammar.
I do know exactly what it is like to sit in a room with four black dudes while they all want to stroke their cocks wanting me. That was the problem. Their was jealousy. The dude who owned the apartment was such a good man. His white bitch left him leaving behind her white k** that wasn’t his. It was nearly a bare apartment. That little white baby girl had half the toys in walmart to play with. It was my one chance to be a mother. In my racist backwoods town it’s a big deal for a white chick to be with black men. My cousins also call me a Nword fucker. I had the balls to go to walmart with four black dudes and a white baby on my hip. Of course I got dirty looks. I gave them right back. The babies dad wanted to be with me. He wanted me to be the mother for his baby. I couldn’t do it because i was financially dependent on my aunt who would cut me off if i married a black man. She truly was my real mother. She was my world. I could never choose a man over my aunt. She died and now I can marry a black man if I chose to get married.
One of my boys had a black baby’s momma. She was the problem. Her man was chasing my ass in front of her. Suddenly they were all chasing me but pooh bear. Finally it got so bad the baby’s momma asked me to drive her to the store. I knew what it meant. She didn’t stop explaining the ways she would slit my throat if i took her man. She said it calmly and seriously. I told her I wasn’t interested. She told me she didn’t care she knew he was interested in me. She told me it was time to disappear. It was too much sexual pressure all at once. Her man was after me. He was calling me non stop. When the white girl’s dad tried to fuck me I freaked out. I thought of him as a friend. He wanted something serious. I broke his heart and never went back.
It’s funny. Black boys never hit on me. I look too sweet,young,innocent and upper middle class. One of my favorite memories was the place I used to buy weed. It was after i lost contact with my black boys. I’m totally comfortable in the ghetto. One day buying weed a group of black men started fucking with me. They knew I wasn’t a cop. At the same time I always knew how to prove I was legit. If a man was in doubt I should him my titties and say ‘would a cop do that’ I got my weed and I got a discount. I was always chasing three dimes for a twenty. My white male friends knew I could pull it off every time. All I had to do was take my top off. So when the group of dudes were teasing me about being a cop I just got topless. I don’t get it but a lot of men think i have fake tits. I do get asked if they are real. That day I said ‘fuck yes they are real don’t you see me in a ghetto buying a dime and driving a beat up ford taurus, how on earth could i afford fake titties?’
It may be wrong but I don’t mind telling the stories. There are different rules in the ghetto. A man made me wait so he could get his son who was probably eight. I listened to the speech he gave his son about my tits. It was a lesson in life about having something for free that money can’t buy. He told his son ‘You will never see another skinny chick with tits that big that are real.’ I watched him use my tits as an example of being poor but still having something better than rich people. That man told me when it came to tits I won the lottery. He told his son that’s what you need to be chasing instead of the skinny bitches on tv with money to buy big tits. That memory will never leave me.
I’ve always had a fantasy about being shared by two men. It began young when I was doing phone sex. I was 14. My uncle was a millionaire with the luxury of the internet. One night with his step daughter we meet two men in a chat room. They were musicians and they wouldn’t tell us who they were. We made them call us long distance to prove it. They did. They sang and played us cover songs like hotel california so damn well we knew they were legit. They latched on to my sexy voice. I was already good at phone sex. I gave them my number. I never had a phone curfew. Our phone never stopped ringing. I could take phone calls at three or four in the morning. I found out who they were when it finally ended. If I name them no one would believe me. I can just say it was a male trio. If I watched MTV or cared about popular music I would have known who they were all along. They were usually on a tour bus or in a hotel right next to each other and they both had a phone. I lied and said I was eighteen. We went on a journey to describe every way two men could tag team one chick. They were bonded so tight. They weren’t gay at all. But a lot of our conversations would involve things like one of them pushing my head down so I could choke on his best friend’s cock while he fucked me. I’m sure they tag teamed groupies. They were just too busy and it was a hassle to do it all the time. They loved me for being innocent and not someone after them for being famous.
I learned from them that when you hit it big and chicks want to fuck you for bragging rights it gives them pressure they didn’t want. After they played a show they wanted to be treated like two normal dudes. Fame kept them isolated and bonded together. One the phone with me they could bitch about what went wrong with a show and then we could play. They were linked sexually in a non gay way. Two best friends or two b*****rs get off making each other cum harder. They wanted double penetration and didn’t care if their dicks touched. They wanted both their dicks stretching out my pussy. If they got a reputation for fucking the same hole and enjoying the feeling of their dicks rubbing it could fuck up their career. Just letting it be known they masturbated right next to each other would tarnish them. They begged me to come on tour. They begged for my address to send me diamonds and autographs. They begged for my picture. To cover the fact our phone bill had weird long distance numbers from all over the over the world I lied and said I had a female friend with a mega rich dad who traveled.
A lot of men got phone sex with me faking it while I painted my nails. They turned me on and they got the real deal. I was playing with myself and enhancing the fantasy. We could all three work up into a frenzy when we came together. They knew something was up when i wouldn’t give them an address and except gifts. My parents would’ve killed me if I started getting mail from out of state. If I got a package from my ‘female friend’ they would want to know what it was. Since they thought I was eighteen they wouldn’t have hesitated to reward me with diamonds and gold. I couldn’t hide that kind of present from my parents. We were so poor I couldn’t send them a picture. I didn’t try because I was hot and it would’ve increased the pressure to get me on a plane. We had a whole summer of phone calls. Finally they decided to taunt me with a name to see if that would make me go. They asked me if I liked one group. I knew that was there way of telling me plain as day who they were. I was shocked. I was also honest. I didn’t like their music that much. Maybe if I was really eighteen I would have. I busted out with ‘I like shit like david bowie’ They were like are you serious. I told them hell yeah. I love david bowie. I also explained I mostly listened to female musicians. I loved Hole, tori amos and lisa loeb.
I let them know that didn’t mean I didn’t want to fuck them. I just told them I was different. I would fuck them as two regular dudes and not for being famous. That was what they wanted to hear. They begged me to come on tour one final time. I had to tell the truth. I busted out with ‘I’m a f******n year old virgin.’ I shocked them speechless. They probably thought I may have been 16 or 17. f******n was so young they freaked out. I told them they got lucky I’m a smart bitch. I explaned I didn’t have a ride to the airport. I told them if I was a dumb girl I would’ve figured out how to get there. When I went missing my parents would report a k**napping and go straight to the phone bill which led straight to them. I explained why I couldn’t get mail. I explained that I did describe myself accurately. I really was a little deviant red headed girl with giant tits. We had one last round of phone sex. It was the best. They talked about all the ways they would violate a sex fiend little virgin. Once they new my age they could never call again. The threat that I was capable of showing those phone records and trying to tell my story was too real. I even taunted them that we built up enough chemistry when I pulled up in a limo we would sttart fucking in a mad frenzy. They wouldn’t have stopped to ask for my driver’s license. I could easily pass for eighteen. I told them I was never going to fuck up a good musicians career. After those conversations I never got over wanting two men at once. I’m scared to do it in real life. Double penetration looks painful. I would’ve done it for them. I would’ve done everything I described. I would’ve landed on mtv. They would do serious jail time. If I had been sixteen I have no doubt we would have stayed in contact until I was legal. I could’ve gotten mail without it being a big deal. At f******n all three of us knew we couldn’t wait four years. So that was not a vivid portrayel of asex fantaasy with you and your best friend. I figured you would get off more knowing about my past with black men and the reason I always fantasize about two best friends or two b*****rs.
I brainstormed. A lot of my artwork was lost. I only have pictures of some of my best work. the man that does my printing is rooting for me to make it. He even gave me a scanner. He taught me how to turn each collage into several variations so i could still have limited editions that had slight variations i could achieve through cropping and adding color using photoshop. We live in a small town and my work is to cutting edge to display in the town gallery. I realized if he could turn those pictures of my lost art into flawless reproductions that i have a huge portfolio.
I decided not to jump on chatterbate until i present my collection to a shitload of galleries. Of course I’ll face rejection. But I decided to think beyond florida. xhamster has taught me to thank on a global scale. I will contact galleries all over the world. The art market is in the pits. No one has money for collecting art. Collectors are always thinking about future investments. My mentor is famous as a floridian artist. He can’t sell shit right now. Collectors are focusing on graffiti art. A good graffiti artist can make a killing because collectors know it will hold value and it makes a statement that rebels against classic art.
I plan to go on a voyage to produce extreme art. I will hit places like new york, LA, Paris and tokyo. I take a huge risk because im going to be offering them pieces of work i have to pay to have scanned, edited and printed. To get it done I will jump on board selling sexuality. I’m not stupid. I know men will always pay for a piece of ass before they buy a wall decoration. sex sells. My artwork will have a huge shot at being collectible because it is so sexual and graphic.
One man asked me how i planned to portray myself sexually and intellectually on this forum. I explained Im going to use writing and good correspondence. Then I explained I’m amping up my writing with sexuality that I adore. The last step is finally posting plenty of seductive nude photos. I have explained to a lot of men that i have no camera. The recorder program i bought is a piece of shit. My angora bunny has an iphone and i can use it to make photos and videos. Unless you’ve cammed with me you don’t realize one of the sexiest things about me is my voice.
My angora bunny was raised in a very healthy home. I’ve never met a man so freaked out by sexuality. I torment him. We started as lovers. One night we spent all night talking. He has bad ADHD. when he comes over he does engage me in conversation but he must also be playing on the internet. If he doesn’t have the computer he flips through my art books. He must constantly multi-task. I have been his sugar momma since we met. I had a life insurance policy. I shared every dime with him. I paid his rent two months in a row, i gave him my ATM card and told him to buy any computer he wanted. His had a busted screen. I bought him clothes. I spent a fortune on adderall for us both. Every time he came over i gave him my card so he could buy beer or gas if he needed it. I refused to check my bank balance. I let him know i didn’t care if he pulled out a twenty. He could’ve ripped me off for three hundred bucks a visit. I will never do the research to find out.
One morning after one of are all night adderall binges he needed to go to the gas station to fill his tank before driving home. I happened to check the computer. He broke my heart. He had that much love from me. While i sat beside him he used my computer to go on the dating site we met. He had me in front of him and he was scrolling for pussy, high on my medicine and spending my money. I gave him his first taste of my darkside. He had to sit mortified while i gave him a speech about southern hospitality and being disrespected in my goddamn attic. I could’ve told him to never come back and punched him in the face. Instead i had pity on him because he was nearly crying from guilt and humiliation.
I launched ‘operation warfare’ I got back on the dating site. I downloaded skype when some cute young boy told me he thought i was using old high school photos because im thirty two and i looked young in my pictures. He was so convinced i downloaded the damn program to show him the pictures match the cam. It was the first time i had cam sex. It was hilarious. He was so kinky. He shot his load and caught every drop in his mouth. I was speechless. It was so epic i introduced him to my best friend so she could watch him eat his load. She introduced me to badoo. I f***ed my angora bunny to meet the first guy i decided to date. We were like boyfriend and girlfriend. I could see the pain in his eyes to see me about to go fuck some dude i met off the internet.
I hated the dude i had a blind date with. He had been up all night and he begged me to let him come pick me up when he got out of work. One of the first things he said to me was ‘i can see you don’t go outside much and exercise’ I had lost a lot of weight but I was still curvy. I hammered him with a response that if he didn’t like my weight plenty of other men did. He tried to say his comment was about the fact im not tan. I told him actually i have a healthy complexion. I told him I am a nazi about sunscreen and that made me not wrinkle. It was total irony. He even had to ask me for gas money to drive to his house. Later we discussed the fact that he was way too thin and he needed to gain twenty pounds. We also discussed the fact he had so much sun damage he aged prematurally and looked older than he really was.
It was fate. My angora bunny had the chance to score me black market adderall. As a couple we both dropped everything to exchange money and pills. I had to tell him i was with another man. The other man gave me a lecture about trusting a man with my ATM card. He was so persistant he made me check my bank balance. It way lower than i ever dreamed. I freaked the fuck out. My blind date told me my angora bunny robbed me. We had one of our best moments as a couple. I was nearly in tears. He just held me and we did the math. We calculated how we spent the money. For christ sake’s when we had our first blind date i booked a hotel room that cost five hundred bucks a night. I had also just invested a fortune in producing my artwork. I left convinced he didn’t rip me offf and the money was well spent.
I was so not attracted to my blind date. I knew it was one of those horrible situations I had to fuck a dude i didn’t like. I d**gged myself with a double dose of my anti-psychotic. It is a great pill. It dissolves under your tongue and knocks you out in ten minutes. All summer long I had to stop my angora bunny from kissing me goodnight. Any of that pill in his mouth would make him not able to wake up. I already had plans to d**g the blind date. It was even better. He was a d**g seeker. He thought my sl**ping medicine was something like xanax and he wanted one. I am usually not evil. I would never allow anyone to take my medicine if I wasn’t trying to avoid sex. My mom takes it sometimes and she always does the same thing. She wakes up to pee, gets tangled in her cover, hits the floor and pisses all over the place. I was so evil I gave him a whole pill. I was excited. I was dying to see what the pill does to a normal brain. He got lucky and just took half. Yet again I met another man who didn’t kiss me, touch me or try to get me wet. we got naked and he stuck a dick in me when i was desert dry.
The d**g hit him immediately. It was reverse date ****. He started moving slower and began passoing out before we had three minutes of sex. I don’t even think he cam. Suddenly he was just comatose. I took a double dose of medicine and spent the day dosing in and out. He wanted me to stay the weekend. There was no way that was happening. He had to go to work. I started trying to wake him up two hours before he was supposed to be there. I knew he was going to be fucked up. I never dreamed it would be so bad. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I shook him like a baby that dies from head trauma. I turned on the lights. I held him in a sitting position. He was like a corpse. I got mean and told him he had to wake up i needed to go home period. I warned him he would lose his job if he didn’t snap out of it. There was not a coffee maker or caffeine in the house. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t put on pants. He berated me so hardcore. He told me he never felt more fucked up in his life. He officially told me that my sl**ping pill was only meant for crazy people in asylums. I could’ve torn him a new ass. I let him know that i took three times the dose he took and i functioned just fine.
I told him that I had no idea he couldn’t handle downers. I told him I would buy him a redbull. He was about to be driving me on the interstate. He didn’t take my advice and bought one of those five hour energy shots. I told him it was a dumb move. he needed the extra large can of redbull and he needed to chug it. We stopped speaking. I have never been moore scared in my life. It took about an hour on the interstate to get to my house. He had no chance of getting to work on time. He drove a hundred miles an hour weaving in and out of traffic with no turn signal. I got on my phone and truly told my best friend I loved her but I was saying goodbye. The way he drove was so scary that I don’t know how he got me home. He was nodding in and out driving that fast in two lanes. I didn’t say a word when he dropped me off. For a ll i know he was in a fatal collision on his way to work. I learned my lesson not to d**g men.
Then one fateful day one of my friends from holland told me about xhamster. It has been 87 days of sheer entertainment. I rarely talk to americans. Usually only foreign men contact me. My angora bunny has had to hear all the details. I tend to fall in love on a weekly basis. I even had to make him remove all the dick pictures from my computer. I think he looked at a hundred dicks that night. To make it even more evil i made him make me a hidden file to save dick pics from men i dearly love. He is so good to me there is a desktop icon i can click that gives me instructions how to find my hidden file of dicks and hot men.
Now im broke and it is time to find out if he still loves me when i dont have an ATM card and adderall. We havent hung out in months. I accused him of ditching me the moment i went broke. He responded with plans to bring me home to hang out at his house for tthe first time and spend a weekend together. I was hoping it would be in a few days. After I letter ****d him he responded to let me know it would be a week or two. This is the letter I wrote him.
oh i wish you were coming sooner i was so excited. you know me . by next week i may be out of medicine. also it would’ve been nice if you gave me one inkling on your thoughts concerning the letter i ****d you with last night. my computer is malfunctioning hard. i really need someone to teach me how to clean out my fan. i only come on facebook to check for your messages. ive changed forums. it hit me that i have around a hundred friends on faceebook who offer no feedback when i blog.
xhamster has a blog option. ive been on the site 87 days and i had 2500 people send me a request to be my friend. the way i blog has changed. it is shorter. less intense .it is mostly sexual. people love it. sure not that many men take the time to read. a lot of men skip over me because i have a long profile. instead i attract other writers and musicians. it is difficult. words as simple as sl**p **** f***e d**g i*****l f******n scrapped f****y s****r and even a****l are all bleeped out. but im finally getting praise for a genuine blog that is well written. im branching into fiction. it will be my next step. i post dialogue of funny chats. im bombarded by too many messages to ever possibly answer them. i really do need your help to photograph and film me.
im very proud of my curves. when you met me you had no clue i would end up this confident chick that just received a legit offer to make porn for five to thirty grand per shooting. we couldn’t have predicted that at the hotel when we met. just like georgia o’keefe i want to make photographs of myself nude even though im flawed. even if i never have to be a cam girl i do want to be naked on my profile. its not about getting more male attention. its an artistic statement. i always said my writing was like standing naked on a pedestal in my yard. on this site i can really do it. it is rebellion. it is healing. it is also preparation for a future that may take those photographs and launch a site for men to pay for me to be an artist. i will wash and style all my wigs. i need you to tap into your erotic zone.
i sm still fat by american standards. it is about bl**dy time i become proud of my size and shape. i want to have you record my voice when i amp it to sexual. im not afraid to be one of the sexiest intelligent chicks on the whole site. i just need your help. i can earn money through seduction with more nudity. im blown away by my own transformation. i want to celebrate it and flaunt it. just the other day a man saw me on cam and told me i was glowing. i explained my change in nutrition and my weird pregnancy style glow. i keep making women hate me. i see their pictures and i understand. i went from bald fat dirty badly dressed and chewing my face liike i was on meth into a whole new girl. in so many ways i did transform into a real manic pixie dream girl.
if i make it as an artist i want people to be able to see me nude. its the ultimate taboo. if i knew if the offer to make porn covered airfare i would do it in a heart beat. to go from so ugly my mom looked at me eating my face and cried and transform into a major player in bbw porn based on my shape and facial beauty and wigs is like living a fantasy. so it will be harder to reach me.
your my last contact on facebook. there is no reason to check for messages or feedback ever again. i have anew outlet for social media.. with the right nude photos i could reach a cult like following. i could be approached for publication. i can have fans collect my artwork. i can tell my life story and people will read it. this is just the beginning. so dont dread taking photos of me. i know you will hear me say words you cant stand. at the same time you are giving me a shot at being a female icon like anais nin or marilyn monroe. that is priceless. you watched me transform everything. now i need you to document the change. you know no one else will do it.
your ability to make me turned on and comfortable with my body is unique. i know it will feel dirty to you. but its actually quite beautiful. its a bond we shared when we took a vacation in my attic. even my mom is excited that you are having me over. i told her about my plan to approach art on a world wide scale. i told her it would all depend on if you take the lottery ticket to invest in me. she didn’t flinch when i explained in sheer honesty that my money will always be your money. Me and my mom both shared the dream that i hit it big and you never have to wait tables or worry about money for life.
if we do this right and do it hard. you can sit back and write your first novel. taking nude photos is just the first step to scratching off my lottery ticket and having the time to do what you do best. i hope you jump at the gamble. for once you have to bet on a horse and pray she pushes it so hard she may die from exhaustion. if i die young i want to be exhausted. after winning a race no one thought i could ever run.
That was the letter i wanted to remember. Welcome to what my blog is like when I’m something besides sex. I will always lable it real blog so people who are only interested in my erotica don’t have to read something not designed to turn men on. This is what i do when I’m not answering messages or taking calls. I tell stories and explain memories. It’s not for everyone. But there are men who will take the time to enjoy what I do. Writing is my d**g. I wrote a long explanation about how i planned to blend sexuality with intellectuality on this site. The sex part is easy. I truly just need nude photos and videos. I’m looking for love. I want a man who likes the way i think. It is ballsy to write a nonsexual blog on a porn site. I need a forum to write free from old friends who lost interest in me. I am so sexual it tends to piss women off. My confidence and happiness at fixing my flaws comes off as bragging to old friends. So I’m giving this a shot. I will never be able to answer each private message I get. I am starting to scroll through messages and focus on ones that say art or blog. If it has been days since you sent me a message and i didn’t respond the only way ill catch it is if you send me a new message and go back to the top of the list. I am focusing on comments on my page and on my blog. I never miss those. Since writing is a daily habit there will probably be apost daily. Most of the time it will be sexual. Sometimes it will be deep and profound. Switching off of facebook is a new path. I’m hoping to make people laugh. I’m trying to make people understand that it is weird for me to be hit on. I was bald, fat and abused a long time. My grammar will never be perfect. People will hit me with critism. It always happens. I dare anyone to judge my writing unless they also write a daily blog. Until i meet another writer there is no way to harm me with negativity. I hope to please a small circle of readers that enjoy a chance to see me naked on a pedastal. This blog is me nude. There will be pictures of me nude that correspond to my transition as an artist, a writer and possibly a camwhore