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5 Ways To Do Better By Black Women by Sophia Ned-James


We all know that #BlackGirlMagic is real because we live it, breathe it, and manifest it every single day. We’re out here making strides and building legacies. We’re thriving and breaking down the same barriers that held our foremothers back for centuries.

Yet somehow, we Black women are still perhaps the most maligned, abused, and mistreated demographic in the world! We’re woefully underpaid and overworked. We’re constantly underestimated. We’re always expected to take whatever’s offered and do more with less. And on top of all that, we’re expected take care of every-damn-body.

Listen. It’s time to turn things around and change the narrative. We deserve better, so we must demand better. As the saying goes, we teach people how to treat us. Well, we need to start teaching people how to treat us with the awe, reverence, and respect we deserve. 

Here are FIVE THINGS we can all stop doing RIGHT NOW that will make the world a better place for all Black women:

1. STOP judging a Black woman’s beauty by European standards (skin color, hair texture, and body size/shape);
2. STOP judging a Black woman’s strength by how she copes with oppression and abuse;
3. STOP judging a Black woman’s worth by whether or not she’s in a romantic relationship;
4. STOP judging a Black woman’s womanhood by whether or not she has children; and
5. STOP judging the value of a Black woman’s emotional or physical labor by her willingness to provide that labor for less than it’s actually worth.

Let’s do it for the diaspora, for Black sisterhood, and for OURSELVES!

~Art is “Internal” by Mia Bergeron. Neither SuzyKnew! nor I own the rights to this artwork.

Sophia’s Sunday Uplift for June 23, 2019

I long for the day when a Black woman’s strength isn’t measured by how much mistreatment she can endure. When you’re strong because you have to be, people tend to forget that you can be vulnerable or that sometimes you need help. And it’s easy for them to ignore your humanity because they think you can take it. Sure, we can take it. We can take whatever life dishes out, and look damned good doing it, too! But we shouldn’t always have to.

#NotYourMuleAnymore #StrongButHuman #BelieveBlackWomen #RespectBlackWomen#ListenToBlackWomen

~Art: African Woman by Psichodelicfruit

Sophia’s Sunday Uplift for June 9, 2019

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. Instead, focus on embracing who you are right now and loving yourself unconditionally. That doesn’t mean you should stop trying to improve yourself, only that you should love yourself as you are now. 
When you learn to love who your are regardless of what others think about you, you’ll live a happier and more fulfilled life. Self love is everything!

~Art is “South African Woman” by an unknown artist and I don’t own the rights to this image


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)




Healing – By Sophia Ned-James

I have to give credit where credit is due. Royce* has proven, once again, that settling down with him was the best decision I’ve made in a long time. Ladies, don’t fall for the Okey-Doke! Your man may be puttin’ it down in the bedroom, may be fun to hang with and may even be helping you out financially. But if he isn’t capable of using his love to heal you when you need it, then he isn’t getting the whole job done!

I recently went through a devastating, life-changing experience: the sudden death of a close friend. I mean, I was knocked flat on my ass with this one. I’m talking weeks of ugly crying, regular screaming fits and random acts of violence against whatever glassware was handy. Your girl embraced grieving like it was chocolate: I consumed it and it consumed me. This came close to breaking me.

Royce not only stayed with me during my darkest moments, but by really helping me to begin my healing process. He didn’t try to subdue my grief. On the contrary, when I shattered glass after glass in anguish, he just swept up the pieces and purchased new glasses. When I screamed until my throat was raw, he gave me tea with lemon & honey. He combed my hair when I hadn’t touched it for days. He fed me even after I swore I’d never eat again. He put up with my morning breath, uncombed hair, and snotty nose and called me beautiful in a way that made me believe him. And he knew exactly when, where and how I needed to be touched.

Y’all, that man’s touch was a soothing balm! It was better than the Benadryl I used to help me fall asleep! It was better than the whiskey he’d sometimes slip into my tea!

Whether it was his hand on the small of my back at the funeral, telling me he’d never leave my side; his tight grip on my hand right before I got up to eulogize my friend, reminding me to look at him when I felt lost or afraid while I spoke; or the gentle hands that held my face as he kissed my tears; Royce’s touch got me through the worst few weeks of my life.

And he knew exactly when I needed to be touched intimately, and to allow our bodies to do what they do best. He’d been so patient during my bereavement, never making any demands on me at all. But somehow he knew when the time was right.

We were at his place. It was nighttime. He was watching the game in his den. Exhausted, I took a long shower, turned off the lights and climbed into his bed. The television was on, but muted. Pandora was playing 90s R&B softly. I was emotionally and physically drained, but restless.

I must have dozed off, because the next thing I felt was Royce’s body behind mine. Actually, the first thing I felt was his big ol’ dick poking me in my back. I expected to be irritated because sex was the last thing on my mind since losing my friend. But then I felt his soft kisses on my neck, and his warm breath made me shiver. And for the first time in weeks, my body responded with something other than sadness or anger.

You’d think that Royce would be tentative with me, a little hesitant at least. But he wasn’t. He boldly kissed and stroked my body knowingly, as if he dared me to resist. How did he know I need this, I asked myself. How could he possibly know, when I didn’t even know myself?

He was patient, but persistent. I didn’t feel rushed, but there was no stopping the inevitable. And surprisingly, I was ready.

Fully aroused, I surprised Royce when I quickly flipped him onto his back. Before he could utter a word, I kissed him even harder than he’d kissed me. And then I climbed on top of him, rubbing myself shamelessly against his muscled thigh.

He got the hint and shifted us so that I was right on top of his throbbing cock. I moaned the moment my clit made contact with it. But I didn’t let him enter me. Instead, I roughly knocked his hands away and made my way up to his face. Carefully planting my knees on either side of his head, I paused. I don’t know. I guess I wanted his permission.
I watched his eyes, which seemed to sparkle in the television light. I didn’t have to wait long for my answer. He roughly grabbed my ass and pulled me onto his face. His attack on my re-awakened pussy was so fierce, I had to hold onto the headboard for support.

He didn’t waste any time with niceties and subtleties. He ate me like a starving man. For the first time in far too long, I gave into the intense pleasure of his mouth and tongue.

It felt exquisite! It felt sublime! It felt so good that in no time at all, I had a powerful orgasm that left me breathless. I was barely coherent when I slid off of his face and onto the bed beside him. He quickly pulled me into his arms for a tight embrace.

When I could finally speak, I whispered “How did you know I needed that?”

“I know you,” he answered, stroking my back.

I quickly recovered. Pulling him on top of me, I welcomed his weight. He felt whole and real and alive. I was almost desperate to touch every inch of him. So I rubbed and squeezed and grabbed every part of him I could reach.

When he finally entered me, I felt filled in a way that’s difficult to describe. It’s almost as if every stroke rubbed away some of my sadness. He was gentle, but his strokes were powerful. He pulled me into his rhythm effortlessly. And even though I wanted it to last forever, I was anxious to make him cum.

Sex is always great with Royce. But this was something different. It was more than pleasurable, it was healing. I didn’t just feel good, I felt better.

I can’t explain it, y’all. All I can tell you is that my man’s moves that night changed something inside me. It’s like his dick was a weapon knocking out the grief that had occupied my body and spirit. I know that sounds crazy, but it’s true. Making love to Royce that night helped me begin to heal.

Now y’all know your girl Sophia is no stranger to the benefits of amazing sex. But until now, I’d never experienced healing sex. I highly recommend it, ladies. I hope that each and every one of you finds someone who will do for you what Royce did for me. Not just the sex, but all of it. Like I said, dude was my rock!

So seek ye a king who will slay your demons with his dick! But be careful. That’s the kind of shit that’ll get you sprung!

*Royce is my man’s internet name. I keep his government name between us for obvious reasons.
Photo Credits: sirsplayground.tumblr.com, 25.media.tumblr.com, haightashburyco.tumblr.com

About Last Night – By Sophia Ned-James

Passion in bed

His phone rang just as he was kissing his way down my body. Perfect timing, I thought. What a fitting end to a pretty shitty day.

“You gonna answer that?” I asked with an attitude, bracing for an end to the blinding pleasure his tongue gave me.

“Nope,” he said, glancing up at me. I was a little surprised by the intensity of his gaze. “I’m a little busy right now.”

“But aren’t you expecting a call from your boss?” I asked, gently grabbing his head before he could lower it again.

“I said,” he paused and grasped both my wrists with one of his strong hands. He removed my hands from the side of his head and continued

“I’m a little busy right now. So please, Sophia. Lie back and relax, Baby. Let me do this.”

I quickly complied and before I could protest further, he’d worked his way down to the place between my legs that he’d already claimed so long ago. As usual, he took his time and started off slowly, giving my tender clitoris a chance to harden and grow in his mouth. He licked and sucked, gradually pulling me into his rhythm, his pace.

I moaned when the tip of his taut tongue hit that one spot, his spot, on the side of my clit. Royce* has gotten so good at reading my body, he knew exactly when and how to tease that spot to make me wetter. As usual, it worked, and soon I was moaning and writhing to my own rhythm.

One of his hands held onto one of my hips, limiting my movements in a way that was both frustrating and erotic. His other hand crept up my body and grabbed my breast, tweaking my hardened nipple once, twice, and a maddening third time. I arched my back to give him better access, and he responded with just a little more pressure from his tongue.

He continued to tease my nipple with one hand while his tongue and lips worked their magic. He slid his other hand under my ass and gave it a good squeeze. Somehow, he managed to both squeeze my ass and use his thumb to tease my pussy which, combined with the way his tongue lashed at my clit, drove me right to the brink.

I tried to grab his head, to hold it in place so that I could get to where I so desperately needed to go. But he thwarted my efforts, moving his head just out of my reach. This meant his mouth abandoned my pussy and I groaned in displeasure.

“Shhh,” he whispered, kissing my inner thigh. “I’m gonna let you cum, Baby. Just not yet.” He paused for my response. When I had none, he continued. “Are you gonna let me take my time, Sophia?”

Gritting my teeth in frustration, I nodded. “Good,” he said, kissing my thigh again, only a little higher this time. “Now where was I?”

He slid both hands under my ass and raised my hips off the bed. Leaning closer, he licked and then kissed my thigh again. Only this time, he was closer to his target.

“Was I here?” he asked, his deep voice teasing. He kissed me again, even closer. “Or here?” He kept repeating this all while licking and kissing the entire area around my pussy, but never actually touching it.

It was too much to bear. I needed his lips and tongue back on my clit where they belonged. But he was hell bent on making me wait for it.

Unable to help myself, I reached my hand down, hoping to give myself some relief. Royce gently, but firmly moved my hand away. “I thought you said you’d let me take my time,” he chastised, his deep voice rumbling. I could feel his breath on my pussy. It tickled.

Again, I didn’t answer him. All I could do was moan in protest. I both hated and loved when he tortured me like this.

My silence didn’t go over well. Before I knew it, Royce flipped me over onto my stomach and smacked my ass just hard enough to sting, but not hard enough to hurt. I almost came right then.

“Your man asked you a question, Sophia.” Now he was lying beside me, his warm breath on my ear as he slapped my ass again. “Are you going to let me take my time or not?” Hmm?” Another smack, this one a little harder.

“Yes,” I moaned. My voice cracked a little, and I hadn’t realized that I’d been holding my breath.

“That’s better,” he crooned. He stroked my bottom softly and said, “Now lift that ass in the air for me so I can lick my pussy from behind.”

While Royce took my sensitive love button into his mouth, he somehow managed to stick his finger in my pussy, while he simultaneously played with my butthole. It felt so good I couldn’t stop myself from moaning loudly.

“Yes!” I begged. “Right there! Please … don’t stop!” Royce didn’t stop. He sucked harder and stroked faster. Feeling the pressure build, I thrust my pussy harder onto his face. My hips seemed to have minds of their own because I was no longer in control of my movements.

I thrusted, and he sucked. I rocked back and forth, and he stroked. I may or may not have begged him to go harder and faster, but he did so anyway, sending me careening towards that sweet abyss.

My orgasm tore through my body like a typhoon. I think I screamed his name, but I can’t be sure. That’s because all my senses seemed to fail me, except for the sense of touch. All I could do was feel, and it seemed like every single nerve in my body was on fire.

It was one of those long-lasting, intense orgasms, too. The kind where you squirt a little, and end up panting afterwards.

It was exactly what I needed.

I don’t know how long it took me to catch my breath and come to my senses. But when I did, Royce was lying on his side next to me, propped up on one elbow, watching me. His expression would have seemed smug under any other circumstances. But he had every reason to be proud of himself.

My clit was still twitching with the aftershocks when I managed to say, “Damn! That was incredible, Baby.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. No let’s get some sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.”

“But don’t you want me to …?” I started, reaching my hand towards his massive, hard dick.

Royce shook his head. Then he leaned over and kissed me softly on my lips. “Tonight was all about you,” he whispered. Immediately, my eyelids got heavy. He continued, “I can wait until morning. You had a rough day and needed that. So let’s get some rest and we’ll continue this tomorrow.”

I slept like a log that night.

*Royce isn’t my man’s real name. I keep that info to myself to protect his privacy.

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

FaceTime – By Sophia Ned-James

As a thick girl (fluffy, phat, plump … you know, NOT skinny), I’ve always been very self-conscious about sitting on a man’s face.  I mean, y’all already know Sophia loves to be pleasured orally, but it takes real confidence to be my size and actually sit on someone’s face!


You thought the title meant Facetime, as in Apple products and iPhones?

Nope!  In Sophia’s world, there’s only one kind of Facetime, and that involves me sitting on one!

Anyway, I’ve always been self-conscious about sitting on a guy’s face because I’m so not skinny.  In the back of my mind, I’m always worried about suffocating some poor dude while he pleasures me, and not realizing it until I’m done.  I know that sounds creepy, but such is life for us non-skinny types.

That never stopped me from sitting on the occasional face, though.  Especially if the guy requested it.  But, I was never really comfortable doing it until recently.

Royce* is a huge fan of Facetime, always after me to climb on up there and enjoy.  But, I’ve been thick my whole life.  And those insecurities that come with all this abundance run deep.  No matter how much he reassured me, I was always a reluctant participant.

That’s starting to change, though.  And it’s not just because I have a man who constantly compliments my body and tells me I’m sexy.  Sure, that helps.  But the real change has been within my own mind.

Like everyone else, my mind was colonized to subscribe to Euro-centric standards of beauty which have nothing to do with how I (or people like me) really look.  I’d been brainwashed into hating my thick thighs and fat ass, even as white women injected their bodies with poisons to achieve what I have naturally.

But I’ve worked hard to de-colonize my thinking when it comes to my looks, especially my weight.  As I’ve evolved into a woman I’m proud to be, I’ve come to appreciate the beauty of all my assets, even the ones that jiggle.

Especially the ones that jiggle.

Cuz I do jiggle.

A lot.

Sure, I need to lose weight and exercise for health reasons.  But what I’m not gon’ do is beat myself up because I’m not a size six.  And I’m certainly not going to restrain my sex life based on what my bathroom scale says.

Life is too short and sex is too fun!

So, Royce had been out of town for work for a few weeks, and I missed him terribly.  We spoke on the phone every night and had lots of hot, steamy phone (and Skype actual Facetime) sex.  But it just wasn’t the same.

The day he travelled home, we sent at least 100 sexy texts, describing all the dirty things we wanted to do to each other.  During one of our last exchanges, I texted him this:

“I plan on spending a lot of time sitting on your face when I see you!”

He didn’t respond right away, which worried me.  At first I thought maybe he was on the plane and had to turn off his phone.  But as more time passed without a response, I started to panic.  Those old insecurities started to creep back into my head.  Am I too fat to sit on his face?  Why the fuck isn’t he texting back?

Finally, he called.  From the sounds in the background, I could tell he was at the airport.

“Your last text,” he began.

Nervously, I answered.  “Yeah?”

“Sophia, you don’t know how happy that made me!  You know I love when you sit on my face, but you almost never want to do it.”

“It’s because …”

He didn’t let me finish.  “I know why, Baby.  That’s why I’m so glad you’re comfortable enough with me to actually want to do it.  I can’t wait to see you.  I’m gonna keep you on my face forever!”

When Royce finally got to my place, we barely talked, saying only what was absolutely necessary to get naked and busy.  After a couple of frenzied rounds of some epic fucking, Royce finally held me to my word.

“You said you’d sit on my face, Baby,” he reminded me.  But I was tired.  And honestly?  I was pretty satiated, too.

He wasn’t having it, though.  So, like I’d promised, I rode his face for a long time, slowly letting him lick and suck me back to the brink of ecstasy.  It was so good the way he made my pleasure ebb and flow.  We moaned in harmony as my passion mounted, and he gradually brought me closer and closer to my peak.

I think I warned him before my explosion hit, but I can’t be sure.  At that point, I could no longer hear or see or even taste.  All I could do was feel and it felt exquisite.  And when I finally fell over the edge, everything went blank.

They say that there’s nothing sexier than a confident woman.  To be full-bodied and sexually confident is truly liberating.  My hope for you is that you’re able to love the skin you’re in, too.  And that you get to enjoy as much Facetime as you want!

*Royce isn’t his government name, ya know.  Names and details are always changed to protect our privacy.

Photo Credits: Blackandcurvy.tumblr.com

(Originally published on TheSexySingleMommy.net)