When words collide

I write and read erotica. I watch porn. I drink. So, let me tell you a story that may or may not be true.

One sunny weekend in Florida, a writer had a little too much to drink. And around that same time, she got a text message from a guy who she may have been toying with. Definitely toying with. He has a big dick but doesn’t know how to use it. He has nice thick lips, but ain’t ever ate a lick of pussy.

When a certain writer gets bored or needs content, she plays with him. Wrong. Yes, but some of us date for content because love bites.

Well,  he said “You don’t want me the way I want you.”

She sighed as she read the text. She doesn’t want him at all, to be honest. Been there, done that, was very bored afterwards.

So, she replied like this: I do want you. I want you bent over I want to stick my strap on in your ass. Do you want me the way I want you? 

Of course he was not feeling that! He went all, you sent that to the wrong person. She said, nah, I sent it to the right person.

Then he went all homophobic. I don’t know who you’ve dealt with before, but I don’t take nothing in my ass. I hope you are playing if not and you totally serious we need to part ways. And you need to find a bi or gay dude.

Yeah, because we were together. I mean, we went out three times. He’s always talking about how broke he is and he doesn’t even have his on place to live. See why said writer can’t take him seriously.  So, the writer says K.

If you’re a tester, you know K is the reply you send when you have no fucks left to give. Then he texts again. Call me.

Why? What could we have to talk about?  He’s mad. He’s super mad with a red cape tied around his neck.

A few weeks pass and the writer wonders. Is he still mad?

She asks, because she has Writer’s Block.

His reply launched this post. Writer’s Block be damned.

I mean, I haven’t thought about it, I was just offended that you came at me like that. I don’t hate you.

Really bitch?

A drunken fantasy made you think about hating this writer? I just be damned. He acts as if he was sexually assaulted.

He acts as if he didn’t tell this writer he wanted to tie her up and fuck her.  But when a woman says it, it’s wrong. Get over yourself.

Why is it OK for male fantasies to be played out in porn, in media and when one writer sends a text, this boring motherfucker wants to hate.

Yep, it’s going in a book.


Sharing a post from one of my favorite authors: Have my baby, child please

You know it’s hard in the dating world when you have romance authors ranting about these men.

2013-09-21 18.23.25Cheris Hodges, author of the upcoming, Rumor Has Ittook to her witty blog and wrote about men wanting to have kids without commitment.

We’re not talking about a man telling the woman he’s seeing that he wants to marry her then start a family.  And he’s the kicker, when you tell him that you don’t want to have his baby, he gets mad. I don’t get it. When did having a baby with a guy who you’re just having a good time with become a sign of commitment?

My BFF and I were talking about this earlier today. She said a guy she’s dating keeps telling her that he wants her to have his kid —keep in mind that this guy hasn’t tried to have a serious relationship with her and he hasn’t dropped down to one knee and said will you marry me.

When she laughed in his face and said “boy, bye.” He actually launched into, “You don’t want to have my baby?”
Why would she want to have a baby with a dude who can commit? Having his baby would mean what? A status symbol for him? How would the child be raised when his or her father only wanted to make him or her to prove that he could get his or her mother to have unprotected sex with him?

Read More here, http://cherishodges.blogspot.com/2015/02/dating-in-21st-century-i-want-you-to.html

Adventures in Online Dating: Can I get to no you? Umm, NO!

My online dating profile says that I’m a writer. I guess I need to let people know that I love words and the correct usage of them.

For example, I got a message today.

Him: Hi.

Me: Hi.

Him: How you doing

Me: I’m doing well. And how are you?

Him: Are you single

Me: I wouldn’t be on here if I wasn’t. Not trying to be funny. Are you single?

Him: Yes can I get to no you

I can’t even respond to this madness. You just put a curse on our interaction. You can’t get to NO anything. But you can get hit with the no, hell no. No way in hell.

Le Sigh. Is it wrong to want to meet a man who can, A.) Use all his letters when texting. All this WYD, HRU and GM crap has to stop. WORDS. USE THE WHOLE WORD.


B.) Read an actual book and not just King Magazine

C.) Stimulate my mind before telling me he wants to put a baby in me. . .


Adventures in Online Dating: Mr. OK is losing credibility . . .

This is the second Sunday that Mr. OK and I had plans and he was a no call, no show. Motherfuckers lose jobs because of that. I’m always telling people that we ignore red flags. I guess it’s time to take my own advice.

I hate people who say they are going to do something and don’t. No matter how great of a kisser he is. That kiss, tho. . .

Anyway, so there was this other guy who I’ve been chatting and texting with. I haven’t met him or anything. Last night he wanted me to come to his house.

bitch-you-crazy Yeah, um, I’ve seen the Dateline episodes where a woman meets a man and is never seen again. I’m good with that. And you offered me Mascato. I don’t drink Moscato and I don’t know what the hell Mascoto is. 

Wine infused with drugs.

So, when I told him I was a Merlot type of girl, he replies:

I’ll get you to come to my house one day.

anigif_enhanced-buzz-28229-1377620439-5 Wait for that.

I think it’s time for this adventure to end. Sadly, I think my destiny is to live this single life. Maybe it’s time to accept that.

Adventures in Online Dating: Is it wrong to sleep with my ex so that I won’t sleep with the new guy?

Mr. OK and I are going out again. I think he’s cool and he’s extremely sexy.

The problem is, I can’t sleep with him this soon. And I want to. But I don’t want to be thought of as easy. Still, a sister has needs.

So, I was talking to my de facto brother, Style King, and I asked him would I be wrong to sleep with my ex before going out with Mr. OK.

Him: Yes.

Me: Why?

Him: How would you feel if you found out that Mr. OK was out doing other things?

Me: At this point, I wouldn’t care. I just don’t feel like teaching him what I like and . . .

Him: You’re going to have to teach him at some point.

Me: And then there’s the STD testing that we need to get done before we smash.

Him: How do you know your ex doesn’t need to get tested?

Silently agreeing with him.

Him: Y’all aren’t going to be together anyway. You’re selfish.

Me: Men do it all the time.

Him: So, then tell him that you’re going to have sex with your ex before you go out, then. So many women say, if you had given me a choice, you don’t know what I would’ve done.

Me: So when you were doing your thing, you gave them a choice?

Him: No. But I’m older now. I want choices.

Me: So, you’re saying it’s a bad idea?

Him: You don’t listen, do you?

*Kanye Shrug.*

I hate it when he’s right.



Good idea or bad idea? Sound off in the comments below!

Adventures in Online Dating: I don’t care how cute you are, spelling counts

While checking out some profiles on the dating site, I realized something:

If you can’t spell your profession, you are probably not that smart. 

WTF is a trainor or a Barbara? 

Sad that the offenders of these gaffes were handsome. Granted, I’m not looking for a husband but I can’t go out on a date with Dumb Donald.

And why can’t people use all of their letters? I hate having to figure out what these acronyms mean. Messages looking like a bingo card:


A well placed LOL is OK, but GM, HRU. COME ON MAN!

Adventures in Online Dating: I like him but. . .

So, I’ve gone out with him twice. Let’s call him Mr. OK.

First we had dinner. Then we talked about the most random things for about an hour afterwards.

When we finally went to our cars, he gave me a hug and said text him when I made it home. How sweet.

Last night we met at a lake and sat on a bench, talking. He liked rubbing my bare arms. Said my skin is soft. I said I like lotion. He laughed. We laughed a lot. Hugged some more and then we kissed. And what a kiss it was.

But in the back of my mind, a voice is screaming, “TOO SOON! DANGER, DANGER.”

I’m trying to listen because the last thing I want to do is hop into bed with Mr. OK. He’s still kind of like a stranger.

So, we’re supposed to go out again Sunday. Where can I find a chastity belt and who am I trusting with the key?



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