Tag Archives: Sizzle with Sophia

Sophia’s Sunday Uplift, March 23, 2019

The moment you stop looking elsewhere for love, acceptance, and validation is exactly the moment when you’ll find those things within yourself. Learn to love yourself as deeply and as fervently as you love those around you (especially the ones who don’t even deserve you). Trust me. When you begin to believe in your own beauty and brilliance, you won’t have any time for the naysayers or the negativity they bring.  You’ll be too busy basking in the warmth of your own light and truly living your best life! #SophiasSundayUplift #SundayUplift #SelfLove #Love #Acceptance #Validation #BelieveInYou

~Sophia Ned-James (Art is “Teenie Weenie Afro” by Melanoidlnk)




From Sophia, With Love

Hey SuzyKnew! Readers:

It’s your girl, Sophia, and I have a few things to say to my sisters of the Diaspora. First of all, this is a message of uplift and love, and I hope it helps someone today. We, Black women of the Diaspora, have a unique bond that isn’t always celebrated, recognized or cherished the way it should be. One of the many reasons I love SuzyKnew! so much is that it endeavors to bring Black women of the world together to talk about issues that uniquely pertain to us. I love us, and I hope you do, too.

Let me begin by giving a shout out to all the Black women who feel invisible, unheard, and maligned. I see you, I hear you, and I love you. The world may only value your parts (your lips, your ass, your sass, your labor, etc.) and deem the “whole” you unworthy. But please remember that every single piece of you, in part and as a whole, is valuable and worthy. You are whole and holy, Sis, and don’t you ever forget it. You deserve to be loved out loud and unreservedly. You are enough just as you are, and you are worthy.

That said, everyone can improve upon themselves. So, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to better yourself and your circumstances. It’s important to dream big and have goals. It’s just as important to make sure you set attainable goals and come up with realistic ways to reach them. However you go about improving yourself, don’t let fear or other people’s opinions stop you from doing what you need to do.
Remember that it’s never too late for you to follow your dreams, no matter how old you are. So, go ahead and pursue your passions, apply for that dream job, and shoot your shot with your crush! Don’t be afraid to fall in love again, even though you’re scared of getting hurt. Go on and get that degree; get another degree; and get an even higher degree! You can do this, Sis.

It’s not too late to fix your credit, buy a home, learn a new language or even learn a brand new skill set. Go ahead and step up your shoe game, clean out your closets, and make room for the newer, smaller close sizes you plan to buy once you drop that extra weight. You got this!
You still have time to make your dreams come true, but you have to start now. What’s stopping you from going for it? Is it simply the fear of failing, or are you still holding onto the mistakes you made in the past?

If it’s the latter, you need to make peace with your past, and then let it go. There are no “do overs” in real life, and you can’t do anything to change what’s already happened. So stop beating yourself up over the mistakes you made. Everyone messes up sometimes. Instead, focus on learning from those mistakes and keep moving forward. You owe it to yourself to forgive yourself. And the best way to make that happen is to just do it.

I know that’s easier said than done, though. Before you can forgive yourself, you have to fully love yourself. After all, self-love is everything! Stop letting the opinions of others determine your self-worth. You’ll always be “too much” for some or “not enough” for others. So, stop twisting yourself in knots trying to please everyone.

Instead, focus on embracing who you are right now, and loving yourself unconditionally. That doesn’t mean you should stop trying to improve yourself and go for your dreams. It only means that you should love yourself As. You. Are. Right. Now.

Embracing and loving those qualities that mark you as “different from the rest” can be hard in a society that pushes us to conform to trends and fads where everyone looks and acts the same. But doing so is a necessary step on your journey to self-love and acceptance.
So you’d better learn to love those little quirks of yours. You’d better come to grips with your uniqueness. In fact, you really need to celebrate those things that make you stand out in a crowd. Without them, you’d be just like everyone else. And that would make this a very boring world.

Another barrier to self-love and acceptance is the memories and lasting effects of childhood trauma. So many of us suffered from unspeakable horrors as children which shape who we are and how we see ourselves today. Sometimes, to get over the horrors of the past, you have to comfort, forgive, and honor the little girl inside you who survived them.

It’s likely that when you went through the trauma, no one was really there to hug away your hurt or dry your tears. That may be one reason you’re so strong today. But the little girl who lives deep inside you still needs to be comforted. She still needs those hugs she never got when you were little. And that’s ok.

Because you, strong woman that you are, can take some time to love and honor that little girl now. You can comfort her in ways she never could have dreamed of. It’s called radical self-care, and you’re more than entitled to it. The little girl inside needs it, and the woman you are today deserves it.

Radically accepting yourself in a world that undervalues Black woman is an act of courage and survival. Once you’ve embraced who you are, even while you strive to improve, you’ll be less likely to accept abuse, misuse and any other bullshit that comes your way. You’ll come to demand and expect respect in all areas of your life, and you’ll get it, too.

And you’ll stop giving away your labor for free, which is something all Black woman need to stop doing. We give too much of ourselves for free, and it’s literally killing us. This includes, but is not limited to: our emotional labor in our romantic relationships; our intellectual and physical labor at home and on the job; and our action-oriented, “get shit done” labor in politics and activism.

We’re out here killing ourselves for others with very little to show for it. This has to stop. The more we love and respect ourselves, the better we’ll get at saying “No”, “Nah”, and “Hell nah”. We must get better at demanding our due in dollars, power, and recognition. And we must give up the role of “mule of the world”, once and for all.

After all, we are Black women! And these are our truths:
• The beauty of the Black woman is unmatched in this world, and probably the universe;
• The strength of the Black woman is undeniable, even when not just measured by her pain;
• The love of the Black woman is as enduring as the sun, and just as bright; and
• The hope of the Black woman is boundless.
Please share this with every Black woman you know and follow me on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter.
And invite your friends and family to subscribe to SuzyKnew! You won’t find any other space online quite like this one.

Love, Blessings, and Peace,

*Photos courtesy of Pixabay

How Do You Like Your (Yoni) Eggs? By Sophia Ned-James

So what do you think about Yoni Eggs? They’re my latest obsession, so I’ve been researching them like crazy. I haven’t bought any yet, but I definitely plan to soon.

But before I spend my hard-earned pennies for something to stick “up there”, I gotta get some feedback from folks I trust. And by “folks,” I mean women who look like you and me. As in Black women. So, I’ve been asking around …

But first, for those of you not hip to this ancient trend, let’s review the basics so that we’re all on the same page. The Yoni (rhymes with phony) is an ancient Sanskrit term for the female genitalia, which means “sacred space” or “sacred source.” In Hinduism, according to Merriam-Webster, it symbolizes the goddess Shakti, and is a symbol of divine procreative energy. It’s often used to refer to the womb, the vagina, and the vulva. In other words, it’s the pussy (or vajayjay, honey pot, woo woo, vadge. You get the picture).

The Yoni Egg is a “beautiful semiprecious stone carved into an egg shape and polished to be worn inside the vagina.” (Source: yoniegg.com)

Yep. Inside the vagina. In your pussy. An egg shaped, semi-precious stone … Inside. Your. Vagina.

To be honest, I’ve been hearing and reading about Yoni Eggs for a long time, now. But I’ve only heard about Black women using them in the last 5 years or so, which is what really got me interested. But this is definitely NOT a new thing.

In fact, Yoni Eggs have been used for over 5,000 years in China. Apparently, empresses and concubines of the Royal Palace used eggs carved from jade to “awaken sexual power, awaken sensuality, and maintain amazing health into their old age.” (Source: yoniegg.com) Advocates further claim that Yoni Eggs are an ancient and sacred tool for spiritual transformation.

Listen. I don’t know about you, but the very idea of a semi-precious stone being all up and through my goodies having the power of spiritual transformation is very interesting, to say the least. And, women have been doing this for over 5,000 years?? Sisters, we gotta catch up!

Proponents of regular Yoni Egg use claim all kinds of benefits, including (but not limited to):

• Increased libido and awakened sensuality
• Natural lubricant, even after menopause
• Balanced estrogen levels
• Tighter vaginal walls; awakened vaginal tissues & muscles; new nerve growth; and increased overall vaginal sensitivity for enhanced sexual enjoyment
• New kinds of orgasms; stronger orgasms; more frequent orgasms
• Easier childbirth and help with fertility
• Stronger pelvic floor to help with incontinence, and prevention of future prolapse
• Increased control over vaginal muscles, leading to heightened sexual enjoyment for male sex partners
• Decrease in PMS symptoms, fewer menstrual cramps, and shorter duration of menses
• Increase in overall health and well-being

In traditional Taoist teachings, three types of gemstones are used based on their properties: jade (recommended for its healing properties); black obsidian (to enable women to work with and integrate their “shadow”); and rose quartz (recommended for advanced users, as it’s said to open the heart).

According to yoniegg.com, the most popular gemstone for beginners is genuine nephrite jade. It’s hard, non-porous and won’t break easily. It also has high thermal conductivity, so it doesn’t take a lot of body energy to warm it up. Nephrite is known to heal, especially the reproductive system. And it has powerful energy, but is gentle and protective of its wearer, shielding her from negative outside energy. It’s also a good weight for Kegels.

Yoni Eggs usually come in three sizes: small, medium and large. And though it seems counter-intuitive, you’re supposed to start out with a large or medium egg, and work your way down to a smaller size, as your vaginal muscles get better at gripping and releasing them.

You can also get drilled or undrilled eggs. Drilled eggs have holes in one end, thru which you can thread a string for removal, kind of like a tampon. Undrilled have no holes, allowing the wearer to use her muscles to release the egg.

Fascinating, huh? But I wanted first-hand information from someone I trust … someone who looks like you and me. So, I found a few Black Yoni Egg users who are sexually aware, open, and honest. And I asked them a few questions about their experiences, knowing they’d give me the real deal. I interviewed three women, two of whom I know casually (and trust implicitly), and one expert who’s a sexual health and wellness coach specializing in natural and medicinal remedies. All but my expert have chosen to remain anonymous, so I changed their names for this piece.

“Sojourner”, aged 43, grabbed me first with her revelation that for her, wearing Yoni Eggs was about self-awareness. She said, “I was molested and wanted to heal myself.”

Wow! Such power in those words! She went on to say that since using Yoni Eggs, she began “to open up more about my problems and how I pretty much felt guilty for any sexual pleasure.”

Again, wow! This immediately sent me back to the internet to revisit what I’d read about Yoni Eggs. To be totally honest, I also revisited my own pain and trauma associated with sex. We all have some, right? And it often hinders our ability to enjoy our bodies and embark on true intimacy with others.

“Sojourner” first learned about Yoni Eggs from an energy healer on Facebook. She did some research and ended up buying her first one from that healer. The healer cleansed and charged it, and then sent it to her. “Sojourner” spoke intentions over it before inserting it and wearing it overnight. She says she woke up the next day feeling better than she had in weeks, and that “things I wanted to happen started happening.”
She’s now a regular Yoni Egg wearer, using it every new moon and every full moon, unless her menstrual cycle prevents it. She uses undrilled and prefers quartz and amethyst.

36 year old “Harriet” also learned about Yoni Eggs from Facebook, but she’d also heard about them from one of the Real Housewives shows. She did her research and took the plunge, buying an undrilled one because she was worried about cleaning one with holes. She “charges” hers by sitting it on a window sill on sunny days. For cleaning, she follows the advice of the site where she purchased it, and uses salt and hot water. She was single when she first purchased her eggs, and has yet to use it since embarking on a new intimate relationship.
Sexual health and wellness coach, Kimi LeVadge, owner of VForVadge.com, is someone I consider a reputable expert on Yoni Eggs. Though she’d known about Yoni Eggs for about a decade, she only personally started using them after the birth of her first child four years ago. As she’s very ingredient- and material-conscious, she wanted to use a natural stone with healing properties. She fell in love on her first try, saying the Yoni Egg “actually helped elevate my mood and made my vadge happier.”

Kimi typically uses her Yoni Eggs two to three times a week, cleanses them with her Black Salt Cleanser and does a monthly salt water soak by moonlight to recharge them. And they’ve enhanced her sex life, giving her improved muscle control and strength, as well as better (wetter) reaction to stimulation. She also sites improved mood and energy, as well.

Kimi’s favorite egg is Rose Quartz for its help with romance and communication. Blue Quartz is her second favorite. She suggests that newcomers start out with a larger egg to build muscle strength, saying that starting too small can “cause the egg to slip out and discourage use. Working your way down also helps with muscle control; the smaller the egg – the more your muscles flex.” As for drilled vs. undrilled, she acknowledges that it’s mostly a matter of preference. But as drilled eggs allow for strings which makes removal easier, it might be the better choice for beginners.

Kimi also advises that since the energetic properties of your Yoni Eggs can bring up unresolved feelings, “it’s important to include meditation and positive mantras” when you use them. “Sojourner’s” testimony confirmed this, and because she was properly prepared, she was able to work through some of her issues with past sexual trauma.

I asked each of my subjects how much Yoni Eggs cost because, as much as I’m all for healing and muscle strength, I’m also broke and cheap. Kimi says that depending on the size and rarity of the stone, eggs tend to range from $25 and up. “Harriet” has a few eggs, which ranged from $45-$60. “Sojourner” paid $70 for her first one, but it came in a kit with other items. For her other eggs, she’s never paid more than $15 for each. So, I’d say they range of $15-$70, depending on what kind you get. Not a bad investment for sexual healing and enhanced muscle control!

All of the women I interviewed cautioned me to be sure to research the source of the eggs, and to be diligent about cleansing them. Salt and hot water seem to be the preferred cleansers. It’s especially important to wash prior to your initial use to get rid of any harmful energies picked up during shipping and handling. All were very adamant about prayer and meditation prior to, during and even after each use in order to maximize the egg’s healing effects.

So, there you have it, Ladies. I don’t know about you, but I plan on giving Yoni Eggs a try. I love the idea of using a natural material to aid my own body in its healing. Plus, better muscle control can only be a good thing, right? Especially in the bedroom. I’ll let you know how it goes!
In the meantime, check out Kimi’s online store for all kinds of goodies at shop.vforvadge.com. And Comment below if you use Yoni Eggs. We’d love to hear about your experiences!

Photo Credits: Richardandnamaste.com, chakazulucrystals.com, nirvanawild.com, yonieggs.com


This was me last night …

Oh!  I can’t help it.  I moan loudly when he gets his first few licks in.  The way he both licks and pulls my clit between his lips at the same time always drives me crazy.  It’s better than good … it’s amazing!

Somehow, this man can read my body like a book and knows exactly what I need.  He’s attentive that way, always able to make me tremble with pleasure.

I can already tell this little venture is going to be quick.  Normally, he’d tease me and make it last awhile.  He says he could go down on me for hours, and usually I’d let him.

But tonight he knows how badly I need this and decides not to make me suffer.  I need to cum so bad I can taste it, and he gladly obliges.  His tongue is relentless, a little rough even.  And I love it … every single stroke!

He doesn’t seem to mind when I grab his head and grind harder against his face.  I’m really losing control now, pumping so hard, my hips lift completely off the bed.  I can feel my orgasm coming, and it’s going to be huge.  I hope I don’t hurt him.  Then again, I don’t really care.

And then he does it: this thing where he flicks his tongue on my exact spot with just the right amount of pressure.  Yes, right there!  He does it again and again until finally …I explode!

The next thing I know, I’m floating on a cloud of pleasure, feeling weightless and free.

By the time my heart rate returns to normal, he’s suited up in a condom and ready to go.  Without him having to say a word, I already know what he wants.  I roll over and get on my knees, smiling at his reaction to seeing my ass.  He has a thing for my ass … always rubbing on it and squeezing it.  That’s why I know he’s ready to hit it from the back.  He likes to watch it jiggle.

I’m still a little tender from his mouth, so I gasp when he first enters me.  But our bodies go so well together my pussy fits him like a glove.  It feels good being filled up by him … so good!  But I’m more concerned about his pleasure than mine right now.

He likes it when I wiggle my ass and tease him.  I do so now, and he rewards me with a little slap on my ass … once, twice and yes!  A third time!  The sound of his hand on my flesh along with that biting sting does the trick for me.  The potent mixture of pleasure and pain go straight to my head and now I’m just as aroused as he is.

I try to quicken our pace, throwing it back against him a little faster.  But he’s not having it.

“Uh-uh,” he says, slapping my ass a little harder this time.  “I want to do this nice and slow.”  And he grabs my hips to better control our pace.

Dropping my shoulders, I submit to his calm and steady rhythm.  I relax and relish how good his dick feels moving slowly in and out of me.  I slide my knees a little wider and arch my back.  This allows him to go even deeper and it feels amazing.  And when I grind my hips just a little bit each time he thrusts, I can feel his balls bump against my clit.  It’s just enough pressure to drive me mad, reigniting that familiar urgency to cum.

But I want to make him feel good this time.  So I try to put my own pleasure out of my mind and move the way he likes.  But it’s no use.  He’s picked up the pace just enough now, and my clit is almost fully engaged.  I want to warn him that he’s getting me dangerously close to the edge, but can only manage to moan.

I try to stave off the inevitable and clutch at the bed sheets.  But my hips, pussy and clit have minds of their own and once again, I start grinding harder.  This gets me another tap on my ass, but instead of slowing me down, it only pushes me closer to my peak.

He’s getting close too, though.  I can tell by his moans and by the fact that he’s added a little twist to his hip movements.  The knowledge that I make him feel so good turns me on even more.

And now he’s pumping even harder, slamming into my pussy with so much force I almost bump my head on the headboard.  His hands grip my hips tighter and again that juxtaposition of pain and pleasure is so good, I could scream.  I want this good feeling to last, but at the same time I can’t wait to reach my end.

What I want doesn’t matter, though.  He has complete control over my body and there’s no stopping what’s about to happen.  I’m dizzy with arousal.  He grunts and thrusts harder, hitting every single one of my sensitive spots.  And then suddenly, a powerful orgasm rips through my body sending me flying into the clouds once again.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I sense when he cums.  And by the time my head clears, we’re lying beside each other on the bed panting like we’ve just completed a marathon.  I’m on my stomach and my vision is a little blurry.  He smiles as he reaches over and gently rubs my tender ass.

“Was I too rough?”  His voice is a little hoarse.  “Did I hurt you?”

“Not at all,” I answer.  I’m too drowsy to say anything else.  The last thing I remember is being pulled into his arms as I drift off to sleep.

Photo Credits: Atlanta Black Star, Pinterest, and Playbuzz,

(Revised Version 12/27/17.  Original was published on TheSexySingleMommy.net)


Dear Santa – All I Want For Christmas Is… SIZZLE WITH SOPHIA

Dear Santa,

What’s up, Big Guy?  It’s me, Sophia Ned-James, from Detroit!  I hope this letter finds you, Mrs. C and all your elves happy and well.  Are you staying warm up there in the North Pole?

Santa, I’ve been a very good girl this year.  No, I haven’t always been on my best behavior, but even when I’m bad, you know I’m good, right?  After all, I did narrow my boyfriend list down to one (1) this year.  And as promised, I’ve stayed far away from those swingers’ clubs.  No really!  I haven’t been to a single one all year!

So, do I finally qualify for your “Nice” list this year?

Who am I kidding?

Sure I’ve improved (as we all do with age).  But the truth is I’ve been a very naughty girl!  In fact, I probably need to be spanked!  But we’ll discuss my “punishment” when you get here Christmas Eve.  (Side note: you left your handcuffs here last year.  And I think I left my leopard-print bra in your sleigh.)

And don’t worry.  There’ll be more than milk and cookies waiting for you at the bottom of my chimney … cuz you and I both know you WILL be stopping by this year!

Anyway, if I HAD made it onto your “Nice” list, here are a few things I’d ask for this Christmas:

  1. For ALL women to experience all the joy that having a clitoris brings: orgasms, multiple orgasms and more orgasms! And did I mention ORGASMS?!?  (I mean, really – you’d think that with more than 8,000 nerve endings, everyone would be having fun with this thing, right?)
  2. For ALL (hetero) men to learn their partners’ bodies; to really understand what makes her writhe with pleasure; and then to use that knowledge to keep her happy.
  3. For ALL couples to learn how to communicate with each other, so that each partner learns the love language of the other.
  4. For safe, protected and CONSENTUAL sex to be the norm EVERYWHERE.
  5. A world that’s safe for women sexually, where we can be free to embrace our sexuality without shame, fear or repercussions.
  6. A world without rape, sexual assault of any kind, sexual exploitation or abuse.
  7. For little girls to be taught to love every inch of their bodies, even the private parts. Especially the private parts, because “private” does not equal “bad” or “shameful” or something that needs to be masked or disguised.
  8. A world where little girls can remain children for as long as possible, protected and loved by the adults around them, and not exploited or hurt.
  9. A world where ALL women have and maintain total control over their bodies and their lives.
  10. For LOVE to be the driving force behind all our actions.

Santa, I know it’s a daunting list.  But hey, at least I didn’t ask for jewelry or lingerie this time, right?  And anyway, I’ll make it worth your while, I promise.  And sure, Mrs. C can join us this time.

See you soon!

Love Your Naughty Friend,


Originally published in December 2012

Lost Panties At The Pier – SIZZLE WITH SOPHIA

I was going to call this post “That Time I Lost My Panties Having Sex on a Public Pier”, because that’s exactly what happened.  But that title is way too long.

So … Have you ever done it in public?  Talk about exciting!  There’s nothing like some good, old-fashioned, almost-get-caught-in-the-act public sex, y’all!

Disclaimer: Just so we’re clear: I am NOT encouraging you to break the law.  If you decide to have sex in public and get arrested, that’s on you.  Don’t waste your one phone call on me, cuz I ain’t got no bail money, and I only wear handcuffs for fun.  So before you catch a case gettin’ your freak on, carefully consider your surroundings.  And for goodness sake, make sure ain’t no kids around!

That said, you really should give public sex a try.  Honestly, I haven’t felt anything quite as thrilling as a thigh-quivering, spine-tingling orgasm in public.  The earth didn’t just move, it fell off its axis!

And yes, I really did lose my panties.

Here’s what happened:  I was with one of my favorite ex-boyfriends, Brandt*.  After spending most of the evening shooting pool with his friends in a loud bar, we found the peace and quiet of his car refreshing.  So we decided to just drive around and talk.

The conversation went from generic topics to sexy banter in no time.  Soon we found ourselves at a riverside park, making out in the car like a couple of horny teenagers.  Now it’s not as though I haven’t had my share of car sex through the years.  But, as a member of the “grown and sexy” club, there are just some things I’m a little too old (and curvy) to do anymore.

When I first suggested we leave the car to take things further, I figured we’d find a nice grassy spot near some trees or bushes.   Brandt had other ideas.  Taking me by the hand, he led me to this long pier that led a few hundred feet out into the water.  It’s a popular pier from which people fish or jump in the water to swim, etc.  At night, the lights on the pier are lit, and they’re spaced every few feet apart along its length.  But the spacing of the lampposts also creates pockets of shadows where, on a moonless night, it’s hard to see.

Luckily for us, it was a cloudy summer night, with the quarter moon only making intermittent appearances.  Brandt led us to one of the shadowy spots near the far end of the pier.  While there were no lights shining directly upon us, anyone looking hard enough could definitely see us.

I was eager, but a little nervous.  My biggest concern was lying bare-assed on a dirty old pier.  Fortunately, Brandt had grabbed a small blanket from his car, though.  Don’t you just love a man who comes prepared?

With public sex, there really isn’t time for seductive undressing.  Basically, you just get rid of any clothes that’ll get in the way.  So that’s what we did, pretty much just taking off everything from the waist down.  Very unromantic.

But as we positioned ourselves on the blanket, the thrill of what was about to happen got me excited again.  The cool breeze from the river felt good in the humid air, tickling my skin.  And even in the waning moonlight, Brandt’s chocolate, sculpted body looked amazing.

Brandt quickly took the lead and after kissing and stroking me a little, he headed downtown.  The reason Brandt is one of my favorite exes is because dude could literally teach a Masters-level course on eating pussy.  He’s so good, he probably has “superior pussy eating” listed on his Linkedin profile.

Usually, Brandt takes his time licking me and always makes me cum at least twice.  But since we were outside on a public pier, we didn’t have that luxury.  He went down there on a mission, aggressively taking command of my pleasure and had me writhing in no time.

You know how sound travels farther at night?  Well, anyone on that end of the river certainly got an earful that night.  I couldn’t help it!  Brandt’s tongue was on fire!  And lying there, half-naked and exposed was thrilling!  So, yeah, I got loud.

But before I could cum, Brandt flipped us so that I was on top.  Oh, what a glorious ride!  The breeze, the lapping water beneath us, and the thrill of possibly being seen … it all added up to HOT!  I rode that thick, throbbing dick of his hard and fast, and didn’t even try to stifle my screams and moans.  And since Brandt is such a gentleman, he made sure I came before he did.  But he was loud as hell, too.

I was so spent from my orgasm, I barely even noticed my scraped knees.  If it had been possible, I would’ve fallen right to sleep.  But, one major downfall to having public sex is that there’s no time to bask in the afterglow or cuddle.  We had to hurry and get dressed before we got caught.

Only one problem:  I couldn’t find my panties anywhere!

We were already pushing our luck, so I had no choice but to finish dressing without them.  It wasn’t until we were leaving the pier that we noticed my panties floating in the water below us.  Somehow, in the heat of passion, we’d knocked my panties right into the river!  We laughed so hard, we could barely walk back to the car.

I realize how lucky Brandt and I were not to get caught.  But that night it will go down as one of my best sex-capades, ever!

What about you?  Have you ever done it in public?  Do tell!

Photo Credit: beautifulinsideandout.1992.blogspot.com

*Brandt isn’t his government name, of course.

Sophia Ned-James is the pseudonym for a Metro Detroit-based freelance writer, blogger, and novelist.  Committed to writing fantasy and erotica in ways which celebrate all women, Sophia seeks to provide a safe place for women to explore and own their sexuality without judgment or shame.   To keep up with all of Sophia’s escapades, be sure to like her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/sophiasizzles and follow her on Twitter at @sophianedjames.


Yesterday at around 10:30 in the morning, Royce* summoned me to his office downtown.  He knew I’d just left an early breakfast meeting and was free until my 2:00 appointment later that afternoon.  Still, I was a little surprised when I got his text telling me to come to his office.

Well, surprised and intrigued.  Because he ended his text with “Be ready to play when you get here.”  For the first time in our entire relationship, Royce wanted to have Office Sex!

Now, before you judge me for my questionable and, at times, absurd behavior, let me come right on out and admit that I love having sex in places where there’s a high probability of getting caught.  That shit turns me on!  I’ve written about some of my adventures before, so if you’re a regular reader of mine, you already know this.  But even I, as adventurous as I am, have some ground rules.  For example, I would never do it where I might be seen by children.

That said, Royce isn’t as into risky sex locations as I am.  Whenever I try to give him road head or movie theatre head, he always shuts me down.  Except for that one time he jacked me off in the parking lot of a grocery store in broad daylight … but that’s a story for another time.

Anyway, the prospect of office sex with Royce was all the encouragement I needed to hop my ass on the freeway and head downtown at top speed.

Plus, it had been a while.  21 days in fact.  You see, Royce and I haven’t spent a lot of time together lately because he’s had to travel more than usual for work.  This latest trip kept us apart for 21 days, so I was horny as f%*$!

I still get butterflies in my stomach when I’m about to see Royce, even after all this time.  But, because of the amount of time we’ve spent apart lately, those butterflies in my tummy were working overtime.  So I was nervous and fidgety as I rode the elevator to his 20th floor office suite.

His secretary waved me on in without announcing me, but as soon as I got close, Royce yanked the door open and pulled me inside.  Before I could say a word, he kicked the door closed, slammed me against the nearest wall and kissed me hard.

My man’s kisses still make me swoon, especially when he’s this worked up.  My own arousal spiked as I surrendered to the heat from his lips.  He moaned as he lifted the hem of my skirt above my waist and started to tug at my pantyhose.  Tearing my mouth away from his, I reached down to help him and stepped out of my heels.  Frustrated, he finally just ripped the hose from my body and tossed them to the floor.  The nylon stung a little, making me even hotter.

Not bothering to remove my panties, he just reached inside and possessively took hold of my pussy.  His fingers felt so good, I lost my balance for a second.  I wanted to reach down and undo his pants, but I couldn’t from my position.  Agitated, I pulled away from his mouth and said, “Please hurry!  Fuck me now!”

Royce growled as he finally pulled out his throbbing dick.  Then, holding me tightly, he lifted one of my legs with one hand, braced himself against the wall with the other, and shoved himself deep inside me.  And even though I was drenched, I still cried out because he was so thick and long, I felt like I was being impaled.

He felt good, but I couldn’t really get any leverage to move on my own.  All I could do is take what he was giving me.

Royce sounded savage as he grunted and pounded his way to satisfaction.  His kisses became bites on my lips, my neck, and my shoulders.  My man needed this fast, hard fuck against the wall, and frankly, so did I.  And I could already tell it wouldn’t last too much longer.

When Royce exploded, he kept me pinned against the wall for several moments while he caught his breath.

“I’m sorry,” He began, still panting.

I shook my head and didn’t let him finish.  “Don’t be.  I needed that.”

“I want to make you cum,” His voice was barely above a whisper.  “Give me a minute.”

I was still so aroused while I waited for Royce to catch his breath, I could barely breathe myself.  He finally pulled his softening dick out and lowered my leg so that I was standing on my own two feet again.  Then he led me over to the couch on the other side of his office, and gently sat me down.

He knelt in front of me and smiled as he slowly unbuttoned and removed my blouse.  I leaned forward so that he could unhook my bra.  I moaned when he finally took one of my nipples into his mouth.  Then he started kissing me again, but kept squeezing one breast with one hand, while the other reached for my clit.  His touch sent an electric current through my body that left me trembling.

“You want me to use my hand or my tongue, Baby?”  Did he even have to ask?

“Your tongue.”  Duh.

He lifted my legs to his shoulders and started with soft little kisses on my inner thighs.  And then, deciding not to prolong my agony, he went right for my pussy.  Royce has this little trick he does when he wants to rush my orgasm orally.  He creates a suction field around my clit that’s airtight.  And just when I get close, he uses the hardened tip of his tongue to flick the tip of my clit in a bold, rhythmic pattern.  It pushes me over the edge every time.

This time was no exception.  In mere seconds, he had me clutching his head and bucking my hips.  His lips and tongue were relentless and before I knew it, a powerful orgasm tore through my body like a cyclone.  I think I screamed.

I don’t know how long I stayed like that: half on, half off the couch, legs wide open, panties shoved to the side of my dripping, swollen pussy, fighting to catch my breath.  But when I finally opened my eyes, Royce was still kneeling before me, pants around his ankles, tie all askew with a smug grin on his face.

“Welcome home,” I smiled.

“And what a welcome it was, too!”

I’ll never be able to look his secretary in the eye again, but it was totally worth it.

Have you ever had Office Sex?  How’d you like it?  Did you get caught?  Leave a comment and let us know!

Photo Source: Instagram. By coseyphoto. Models: @mikeisha_j and @balikemula_22

*Royce isn’t his government name.  Names are always changed to protect the not-so-innocent.


How To Deal With A Trumped-Up Christmas – SIZZLE WITH SOPHIA

Happy Holidays, SuzyKnew! Readers!

It’s been a long year, hasn’t it?  While the Holidays are a great time to reflect on the year that’s passed, it’s more important than ever to prepare for the one that’s coming.

That Grinch, 2016, may have taken Prince, Phife Dawg, and Muhammad Ali.  And 2016 may have given us a rabid, immature, racist/sexist with tiny hands and bad hair as POETUS.  But what we not gon’ do is sit around and wallow in despair!

We need to turn our outrage into REAL activism, because if ever there was a time to put our Black Girl Magic to use, it’s now.  We’ve got work to do, y’all!

I’m not just talking about keyboard activism, either.  Not that there’s anything wrong with using social media to bring attention to the issues that impact our communities.  I respect the power of the keyboard.  I’ve seen how rousing, social justice reform manifestos born by the light of a laptop screen and fueled by too much caffeinated angst can be effective.

But we gotta do more, ladies!  Take that despair you felt when you woke up on November 9th and harness it into real, boots-on-the-ground action in 2017!  Let’s go!

I know what you’re thinking.  You already have so much to do, how can I possibly ask you to do more?  Especially when it’s not even our fault that fool got elected!

“Sophia,” you’re saying.  “94% of us (Black women) acted like we had some damn sense at the polls.  Go ask the 53% of white women or the 18% of Black men who voted for that orange buffoon to do the work!  Leave us alone!  We’re tired!”

I hear you, Sister.  I know you’ve got to focus on keeping your job cuz your snitch-ass co-worker is always clocking your breaks, and running to your asshole boss who’s way too stupid to be making THAT much more money than you.  I know you’ve got kids and family that need your undivided attention.  I know you’re already doing so much with your church or favorite charity.

But listen.  If we don’t make it our business to be heavily involved in shaping the opposition to the horrible changes that are sure to come, we’re all DOOMED!

Think about it.  No one else has OUR backs.  We can’t depend on white feminists because, to quote the late, great Bebe Moore Campbell, their blues ain’t like ours.  Sure, we can work together, but until they understand genuine intersectionality, we’re on our own.

I love my Brothas fiercely, but let’s be real.  They ain’t really been holding us down like we hold them down.  They’ll march, speechify, preach, and rally when the issue is centered on them.  But for issues that specifically affect US – crickets.  Black men, before y’all get in your feelings and listing all the good shit you do for your moms, wives, and daughters, look at the facts.  Y’all can write 2,000 word, thesis-quality think pieces on police violence against Black men or anything sports related, but when it comes to calling out toxic masculinity, rape culture, or domestic violence?  Suddenly you can’t even spell hashtag.  That may hurt to read, but it hurt even more to write.  Brothas, y’all got some work to do in 2017, too.

Ladies, clearly we have to look out for ourselves.  But where to start?  There are so many urgent issues, like rape/sexual assault, repro rights, voting rights, hunger/food insecurity, and health care, just to name a few.  These issues affect all Black people, but especially Black women.  They’re all urgent, so how do we prioritize?  Where does our 2017 activism begin?

I’ve got a list for you!  Here’s how you can prepare for the war years ahead, cuz make no mistake – we are at war:

  1. Focus: Pick one issue. You can’t do it all, so choose one issue where your particular skills set or experience can be of most use.  Yes, we need soldiers, but we need generals, too.  We need leaders and experts to demand a seat at the tables where these issues are addressed, and they need to be qualified.  If that’s you, go for it.  Unable to commit to leadership?  No problem.  We still need soldiers!
  2. Don’t Reinvent The Wheel: I’m not asking you to go start up a new Black Lives Matter Movement, or anything. We don’t want to compete with or draw precious resources away from organizations who are already doing good work.  Instead, research groups in your area that address the issue you chose, and join their efforts.  Go to meetings.  Volunteer for committees.  If there’s a vacuum in your area, then by all means, take whatever steps to fill it. But if the infrastructure is already in place, share your talents with them.
  3. Do The Research: You may have some expertise or experience working on your issue, but you don’t know everything. Take the time to get up-to-date on your issue.  Research local, state and national policy.  Learn new trends.  Investigate the latest scientific research.  Dig deeper than Wiki or mainstream media.  Keep learning.
  4. Donate Money: Money makes the world go ‘round! These organizations desperately need funds to operate and remain relevant.  Give what you can, as often as you can.  But do your research, though.  Make sure you give your dollars to legitimate organizations, only.
  5. Raise Awareness: Stay vocal about your issue! Issues that face Black women, in particular, are often ignored by mainstream media.  Utilize your social media platforms, leverage your network and connections, and do your part to spread the word.
  6. Re-activate Your Membership: You probably already belong (or used to belong) to an organization or group that’s doing good work. Maybe you got busy, had a kid, moved … whatever … you’re just not actively or financially involved anymore.  2017-2021 are not the years to sit on the sidelines, ladies.  Go pay those dues and re-activate your membership in whatever group you used to ride hard for, and get busy.  They need you.  They need your time, talents and your money.

Remember, even if you focus on one issue, you can and should still support the other issues that affect us.  Get busy, but don’t over-extend yourself.  The next four years are going to be a marathon, not a sprint.  Pace yourself.  Practice self-care.  And get to work!

In the meantime, Happy Holidays!  Whomever, however and wherever you celebrate, I wish you love, peace, joy and lots of good sex (had to throw that in there)!


Photo Credit: fierceforBlackwomen.com



Bad head: is there anything worse?

That was a rhetorical question, of course.  I can think of a whole lot of things that are worse than bad oral sex, like the 2016 U.S. election results, global warming, and AIDS (World AIDS day is today…).  And the death of Prince.  And Ann Coulter.  And the fact that Neiman Marcus sells frozen collard greens for $66, plus shipping and handling. (Really, Neiman Marcus?  Really?)

But still.  Bad head sucks, no pun intended.

You know it’s bad when you push his head away, scoot back and ask “What the heck are you doing?

That actually happened to me!  Thankfully it was a long time ago and pretty much forgotten until I recently ran into the guy.  When he came up and said “Hi”, I knew he looked familiar, but couldn’t quite place him.  It wasn’t until later that I remembered he was Bad Head Guy, the worse pussy eater I’ve ever met.

Bad Head Guy was way too deficient in oral skills to be a grown ass man.  He was downright lousy at it, which is sad because he claimed to enjoy doing it.  That’s more than I can say for some of these dudes out here who are good at it, but wanna act all stingy with their favors.  Those guys irritate me, too.

Bad Head Guy talked a good game beforehand, so I was eager to give him a try.  He enthusiastically went down there promising to send me to the moon, but from his first ill-placed lick, I could tell he didn’t know what the hell he was doing.

Y’all know me.  I’m not at all shy about expressing my wishes when it comes to sex.  I mean, I get that most men won’t immediately know what I like, so I have no problem gently guiding them to all the right spots.  But Bad Head Guy was like that bad-ass kid in school who never listened to the teacher and made everyone miss recess.  He simply couldn’t (or wouldn’t) follow directions!

I tried subtle hints and non-verbal cues, at first.  I nudged him to the right spot with my thigh, and when that didn’t work, I used my hands.  But he paid me no attention.

So I grabbed his head and put it exactly where I wanted it.  You can’t get more obvious than that, right?  That didn’t work either, though!  He just stubbornly kept going at it in the wrong spot, with the wrong amount of pressure and at the wrong pace.

Since my non-verbal communication wasn’t working, I got vocal.  “No, not there,” I said.  “A little softer and slower, please,” I moaned.  “Again, not there,” I pleaded.  All to no avail.  He was too rough and erratic, treating my tender yoni like an ear of corn at the family cookout.

Finally, I just had to stop him completely.  My amorous mood was gone and all I wanted was to get dressed and leave.  At that point I knew the only way I was having an orgasm that night was to go home and give one to myself, courtesy of my B.O.B. (battery-operated boyfriend).

But even when I stopped him, he misread my cues!  He sat up and grabbed a condom as if after that failed attempt, I was gonna let him all up inside me.  Um, nope!

In fact, HELL NOPE!

Like I said, I have no problem showing a guy how I like to be pleasured.  Every woman is different, so I don’t expect a man to be perfect the first time we’re together.  It takes time to learn each other, and a lot of it is trial and error.

But most grown ass men know the basics: pay attention to her responses, her breathing and how she moans; and for God’s sake, follow her lead!  And most men can at least follow very simple, very specific, verbal instructions!

However, if I have to bring your pitiful efforts to pleasure me to a FULL STOP, then clearly we have a problem that’s not going to be resolved by having sex.  In other words, what you NOT gon’ do is have any use for that damn condom!

I tried to explain to Bad Head Guy that he just wasn’t making me feel good.  He interrupted me and said “That’s because you won’t let me do my thang, Baby!  I know what I’m doing down there!”

No, sir.  You obviously don’t.

I hate being interrupted, especially when I’m horny and frustrated.  So to avoid punching him in the throat, I just quietly got dressed.  He tried to catch an attitude, telling me I should at least reciprocate so he could get off.

Yeah, right.  Ain’t no way I’m about to reward bad pussy eating with a good blow job!  Reciprocity is earned, so, “Boy, ‘bye!”

Somehow I managed to leave his place on a cordial note. I don’t think he fully understood just how awful his head game was, but that was going to have to be someone else’s problem.  I was done.

Can you believe his nerve, though?

Ladies, never settle for bad oral sex.  Learn what you like so you can help guide your man to all the right spots.  Don’t be shy about letting your wishes and desires be known.  Just don’t waste your efforts on a man who won’t listen.  It’s your pleasure, so he should follow your lead.  ‘Cuz bad head sucks!

Photo Credits: furnituretoyourdoor.com

Thanksgiving During Challenging Times: SIZZLE WITH SOPHIA

I think we can all agree that 2016 has been a rough year.  First we had to endure losing such musical icons as the legendary Natalie Cole and Maurice White of Earth, Wind and Fire, along with so many others, I can’t even list them all here.

Then, to add insult to injury, we lost the incomparable, multi-talented Prince!  I’m still not over that one.  In fact, I’m pouring out some brown liquor for that hot little badass-in-purple right now!  With his itty-bitty, still-doin’-the-splits-in-his-50s self.  That his death from an accidental overdose of pain meds was totally preventable makes it even sadder.  RIP, Purple One.  #PrinceFanForLife

Boxing legend and humanitarian Muhammad Ali also died this year.  Haiti suffered another debilitating, natural disaster.  And don’t get me started on that whole North Dakota pipeline debacle!  As if the indigenous people of this nation haven’t endured enough!  #NODAPL

Then there was the U.S. Election of 2016.  What a raging shitstorm that was, right?  Public references to the candidates’ dick sizes, pussy grabbing, and unrepentant racism and misogyny.  And the Islamophobia!  Phew!  What a mess!

It culminated in the election of a man who’s publicly insulted the differently abled, Latinx, “The Blacks”, women, and Muslims.  He doesn’t pay taxes and was backed by the KKK.  And he’s already put together a team of well-known white nationalists and anti-Semites to help him lead, seriously jeopardizing voting rights, civil rights, and The Affordable Care Act.

And make no mistake, Ladies.  Trump and his Team of Doom are coming after our reproductive rights with a vengeance, too!  Not only are our pussies in danger under the new president-elect, but so are our uteruses.

So, yeah.  2016 sucked BIGLY.


And yet …

Even in the midst of what may very well be the end of days, there’s still plenty of reasons to give thanks.  In the spirit of the Thanksgiving Holiday, I’ve put together a list of things I’m especially grateful for in 2016.  Here are a few, in no particular order:

  1. Eggplant Fridays: There are pages, groups, and threads all over social media which celebrate Eggplant Friday.  If you don’t know about it, you either aren’t that active on social media, or you’ve been living under a rock.  Eggplant Fridays may vary in style depending on the social media platform or group, but basically it’s just an excuse to post and look at dick pics online.  Eggplants are penises, you see.  Get it?  Actually, I’m pretty sure Eggplant Fridays are played out by now.  But I don’t care.  I’m grateful for them anyways, cuz we gals gotta have somewhere to share all those unsolicited dick pics, right?
  2. Election 2016: I know this seems totally contradictory to the earlier part of this post.  But this horrific election was very illuminating!  We not only learned just how deeply committed Americans are to maintaining white supremacy even at their own peril (yes, I’m talking about the 53% of white women and 13% of Black men who voted that turkey into office), but this election also showed you which of your so-called friends are closeted racists.  Admit it:  you either deleted, blocked or lost some friends or followers this year because of politics.  Even if you didn’t delete them, you’ll never look at them the same.  From now on, they’ll have an asterisks by their names in your mind.  For example, you’ll be going thru your Christmas card list and come across your co-worker Becky’s name.  Only in your head it’ll say Becky*, which will remind you that even though she remembers your birthday and buys your kid cool presents, she still put white supremacy ahead of you and her own interests.  That’s the kind of shit you need to know about the people in your life.
  3. No Shave November– It’s no secret that I love beards, which I affectionately call “thigh ticklers”. A bearded man is sexy!  And as I get older, a beard with a little grey in it gets me all tingly inside.  Seriously, I almost had a fender bender just the other day because I was so busy watching this older dude with a nice, salt & pepper beard.  With his fine ass.    Good pussy eaters are awesome.  Good, bearded pussy eaters are proof there’s a God.
  4. Good Head: Speaking of pussy eaters!  Head was on my last list and it’ll be on every gratitude list I ever write!  That’s because I will ALWAYS be thankful for good head.  And to be clear, I’m grateful that I give good head, too.  Because I’m an equal opportunity oral sex lover!  I’m good at it because I enjoy doing it, and because I’m good at it, I get good head in return.  I’m all about reciprocity, so I keep my skills honed.  My reward is good, hot, make-you-talk-in-tongues head whenever I want it.  Yes, Lawd!
  5. Black Girl Magic: As horrific as this year has been, Black girls and women have been spreading their magic around the globe like pixie dust!  From Beyoncé getting us all in Formation and serving up the best Lemonade ever, to Simone Biles tearin’ it up in Rio; from Issa Rae getting her own HBO show, to the brilliant Ava Duvernay getting to direct a big-budget Sci-Fi/Fantasy film; from showing up for Hillary Clinton in HUGE numbers (94%), to Kamala Harris being the 2nd Black woman ever elected to the U.S. Senate; to all the other fabulous Black girls and women breaking records and glass ceilings in all walks of life, Black women have shown that even when the world falls apart around us, we still shine.  To paraphrase the late, great Maya Angelou, and still we rise!
  6. Jesse Williams (and all the other woke brothas): Who could forget Jesse Williams’ brilliant speech at the BET Awards?  With his fine ass.  Those few lines about doing better by Black women still give me chills.  Haven’t see it?  Google it and get yo’ life!  I mention him by name, but shouts out to all the good Black men out there.  Yes, there are far too many of y’all locked up, dying too young and up to no damned good.  But Black women know, more than anyone else on the planet, that the narrative mainstream media would have us believe about you is a false one. We see you and we love you.  (Y’all good ones gotta be more vocal when it comes to speaking up for US, though.)
  7. Safe Sex: This is another one that will be on every list I compile.  Now more than ever, women need to take full control of their sexual health.  The U.S. is the freest country in the world when it comes to women’s rights, but even our reproductive rights are hanging by a thread.  That’s why we have to get downright revolutionary when it comes to practicing safe sex.  Because, let’s face it: our options for dealing with an unwanted pregnancy or treatable STIs could be severely limited under this new administration.  So stock up on those dental dams and condoms now, while you still can!  And make a donation to Planned Parenthood in Vice President-elect Mike Pence’s name – thousands already have and I love it!

It’s a shorter list than I usually write, but this really has been a tough year.  Still, it’s the season of Thanksgiving, that special time of year when we Americans feel a little weird about commemorating the land-stealing, genocidal birth of our deeply flawed country; but where we also get to hang out with family, eat way too much good food, and watch football, anyway.  And there’s parades.  Gotta love the parades.

Your turn.  What are you especially thankful for this year?  Let us know in the comments, and in the meantime, have a safe and Happy Thanksgiving!