Mid April 2014:
"Be careful with her. She is my wife. I’m going to marry her," Cash told his passionate friend named Rico as he finger fucked me on the couch.
I looked over at my King and found so much lust and love in his eyes. He was enjoying this. He was enjoying watching his best friend make me cum with his fingers.
Cash reached over and caressed my face and asked, “Are you okay baby?” with his thick Bahamian accent.
"Yesss," I answered breathlessly.
I was totally nude in a room full of men. Three to be exact. There was my King who adores me, Cash.
His sexy, promiscuous childhood friend Rico and their gym buddy Aaron.
All of them praising my body. Telling me how beautiful, perfect and sexy I was. I got to listen to how flawless my breasts were. How naturally beautiful I was… Ladies, take a minute to imagine this.
A room with three sexy, muscular, perfectly sculpted, passionate men. All of them lusting… and loving after you. All of them wanting you. Each one wanting to outdo the other when it comes to pleasing you.
Imagine every physical flaw you think you have suddenly becoming nonexistent.
Imagine having a man who truly loves you, your protector and provider, there supporting you, and making sure you are okay. Picture this vividly. Take a moment and imagine how it feels to be worshiped.
This is the definition of Total Liberation…
I looked at Cash again. Loving and appreciating him more than ever.
How did we get to such a remarkable place?
As you know, I am here to share it with you.
Rewind back to June of 2012. It was a very significant time for me and my personal development.
Earlier that week I was balled up on my living room floor sobbing. I had just come to the startling realization that I had literally created every disappointment when it came to men. I, “the victim,” was the one who had “protected” herself into each heartbreaking situation.
At the time I was not fully of the power of thoughts and feelings but I knew this; each man I was slightly interested in, left me within a week. I could not hold a man’s attention to save my life.
A year prior, I emerged from 2 years of celibacy. I figured no sex equaled a boyfriend.
After those two years of turning down good dick, I found that my relationship status had not only NOT changed, but it confused me more than ever.
How can I go around, not be “easy” and still be single as hell?? Mama and ‘nem always told me that if you want a man then it’s simple, don’t give up the draws until he commits.
I hadn’t fucked in two years. So, why weren’t the men knocking down my door with flowers and shit BEGGING to seal the deal??
I resented women who were having sex “too soon” and had loving relationships. I did not think they deserved to have a man. I felt I was better than them.
I rode atop a high horse. This horse was on a very strict diet that was heavy on insecurities and light on self-worth.
Yet, I came across righteous and all-knowing. But in actuality I was quite pitiful and knew absolutely nothing. I was a walking S.H.A.M
(Shameful Horrific Abundant Misery). No wonder men saw me coming and ran the other way.
I felt like I was in a world based on opposites. It seems that sex was the way to get a man.
Suddenly, the conservative girl was played out.
I couldn’t win for loosing.
So, I started back sexing and felt horrible about myself afterward.
I’ll never forget sitting outside of my sister’s apartment complex in my white Avalon weeping as if my entire family had been killed all at once.
I had sex before he had committed. I was a now a regular female with no substance. I was “bad,” “stupid,” and doomed to loneliness forever.
So, I started experimenting.
Months went by. I was having sex with men I had been knowing 2 years, 2 months, 2 days and still NO DAMN BOYFRIEND! I was beyond perplexed.
I went from thinking no sex would get me a man to thinking sex would get me one. Neither theory checked out. Hell, I was clueless and totally dependent on men for happiness.
So that day I was in the fetal position on my living room floor, it hit me like a ton of fucking BRICKS.
I had built so many defense mechanisms that I was unaware that they were literally keeping love AWAY from me!
The men I wanted, never could seem to “make time” for me. I realized that I did not feel I was worth a man’s time which is why I never got it.
But why would I feel that way?
I was pretty, smart, and had my own place and car. I was great in bed. I was monogamous. I was loyal, giving and caring. I could cook. Why would I not think I was worth a man’s time?
A voice says loud and clear, “Because you’ve never gotten it before. Name one man that you truly desired that you actually got to love you.”
I sobbed harder. The faces of man after man flashed through my mind. Every last one had left me.
That’s when I realized I did not EXPECT any of my relationships to work out. Even though my mouth would say something different, I expected to be left. And I did not even realize it. It had gotten then bad.
"But why?" I asked myself.
I began to remember the pain of my high school life. I had my first “relationship” with a 16 year old rapper named Young Rod. I was so in love with him. I would put up with anything as long as he was around. He would call me bitches and hoes. That was cool with me too.
This relationship was very emotionally abusive.
I had another one with a guy named Kornell Robinson. He cheated and the relationship ended.
After that, each man went through what I called “the cycle”.
They met me, acted interested, and left. This entire cycle usually took less than a week.
Every disappointment was confirmed by my beliefs of unworthiness.
I had internalized all the pain from high school, which had created defense mechanisms. Those defense mechanisms required me to “prepare for the worst and hope for the best”
Lots of people use this horrible philosophy. Why do I say it’s horrible? Because this is what it means:
"I really want this to work out for me and I will say positive things about it with a smile, while I will prepare myself for the worst case scenario. I will think about it, visualize it and focus on exactly what I do not want to happen in vivid detail. I will feel the feelings of it in advance, so that if it does not work out for me, the pain will not be as severe. This way I will be 100% prepared and not caught off guard."
(How many of you use this SHAMFUL technique?)
So, as I did this, Law of Attraction gave me more and more of what I was focusing on and then I developed serious abandonment issues when it came to men.
I became hardened by my own manifestations.
I also realize that I had never seen a woman get treated like a queen. I had never witnessed her honored, supported, nurtured, adored nor loved unconditionally.
I had only seen women give, give, give and get bits and pieces in return. I was doing just that and blaming the men for my misery.
All of this hit me hard. After my mini breakdown, a light switch went off in my head. I made the conscious decision to think completely different than I had before.
I went from, “they will leave me,” to, “they will stay.”
It took some practice, but I began to replace these fucked up thoughts with ones that empowered me.
For the first time in my life, I began to feel hopeful about my love life.
Soon after, I get a “random” Facebook message. It was from a male model from the Bahamas who lived in Miami. He was gorgeous and had somehow found me in some photos I was tagged in.
We chatted on Facebook and I made a conscious effort to feel good about where this would lead.
We exchanged numbers and started talking quite a bit. There was a strong connection that neither one of us could deny.
We had Skype dates and he always kept his word. He was very attentive, he was sweet and sexy as hell!
At this time I was just beginning my journey into open relationships. I was no expert but I knew I did not want to drop all of my lovers just because I had found a new love interest.
Nothing about doing that felt right to me.
When I told him about my views, at first he was not for it. He was 32 years old and “set in his ways.”
However, as time went on, he did not talk to me any less and our connection grew.
I’ll never forget that night in July of 2012 when he booked his flight to come and see me in Louisiana. I couldn’t believe it! This gorgeous, sweet and verbally affectionate man had not only been calling me DAILY for more than a week, but he is traveling thousands of miles just to see me!!
This was huge for me considering there were men I had cooked for and fucked who wouldn’t come across town to my house.
So, fast forward to mid-August, the day I was due in New Orleans to pick Cash up from the airport. I am nervously putting rose pedals all over my house.
A friend of mine named Ameena and I put the rose pedals from my front door, to the living room, to the bedroom, and to the bathroom. We put them on my bed and we had candles all over the place.
We even put chocolate on my living room table. It was something out of a movie. We had it all planned out. I would text her when I was close, she would light the candles, leave my key in the window and leave. I was anxious. I was excited. I was ready for the best.
So I arrive at the New Orleans airport in a burnt orange dress and heels. Nervous but cool at the same time. I spotted him. He was looking damn good! Just like his pictures. I was beyond relieved. He was wearing a Black V-Neck shirt with grey sweat pants.
I popped the trunk and check the mirror one last time.
He put his bags in my trunk and hopped in the car.
I could tell I wasn’t the only one feeling the, “first encounter jitters.”
The ride back to Baton Rouge was pretty smooth. We made small talk as we got more relaxed around each other.
I was singing at the time and asked him if he wanted to hear some of the songs I had recorded.
I played em…he listened.
He said I had a beautiful voice.
That made me smile.
When we got back to my place Cash was completely caught off guard by what Ameena and I had done to my place.
I walked in front of him. I turned around to catch the look of complete shock on his face as he looked around the room.
It was obvious that no woman had ever done anything like that for him before.
“Do you like it?” I gushed like a kid who just gave her dad a Father’s day gift.
He looked at me with the gaze of a man falling in love.
“I’m blown away.” He said
I was cheesing like a motherfucker.
I love wiggling my way into a man’s heart and making myself at home.
Soon after that, we made love for the first time. It was cool but does not stand out in my mind like the second time we had sex.
You see, soon after we slapped skins, an issue revealed itself.
I wanted round two, he did not.
Not even after I tried to get his dick hard again with my mouth. A woman never likes to feel like she can’t get it up. It does a number on our ego.
Then the truth was uncovered…my sex drive was a lot higher than Cash’s.
“I don’t need to have sex more than 3-4 times a week,” he said.
“Aww hell naw!” was my real life response.
I love sex. I would fuck all day if I could. Once every other day just wasn’t gonna cut it. Not for a woman like me. Cash was fuckin up.
“There is more to a relationship than sex Cidney,” he retorted.
“Look, now Cash, I ain’t trying to hear that shit! You do not live in town. We are in a long distance relationship. When we are together I want to get in your draws as much as humanly possible!”
This was when things got interesting.
After lots of going back and forth he finally said,
”I want you happy, so if you need to call someone to give you what you want then I support that.”
I found so much consideration is his statement. It softened me.
We revisited our phone conversations about open relating. I reminded him of my fantasies.
"Baby, I want to love you and other men," I said. "I want to have passionate sex with two men that I desire. I want at least one of them to be a man that loves me."
"Is that all you want? Just sex with two men?" he asked.
I just blurted it out.
"No…” I started to strategize my next words with tact… but then I said ‘Fuck it’.
“No, Cash that is not all I want. I want to love many…and have many love me. I have someone now that I care about and I never want to have to choose between men that I desire. I want you both…I want you to have the same freedom. I want us to be best friends. Not the fake ass best friends’ couples claim to be. I’m talking about true friendship. I want you to know you can tell me anything. If you meet a sexy woman at Wal-Mart and get her number, I wanna be the first person you call. I want to watch you fuck other women. I want you to watch me fuck other men. I want us to go out together and find women to bring home with us. I want to surprise you with three women for your birthday. I want to listen to you fuck your women in Miami over the phone.”
“So you just want us to be swingers?” He asked.
“No, I don’t want to be a swinger. I want to practice polyamory. I want to love many. Swingers only care about the sex. That’s cool and all but I crave something deeper. I want multiple boyfriends. Multiple husbands even. I want that deep meaningful shit. I want to be in love with more than one man at a time. I want to create a team of lovers who work together to make me happy. I want to have dinner parties and date nights with all of my lovers. I want us all to live together in a giant mansion one day.”
“You think all of that is really possible?”
“Yes, baby. I do. We just have to communicate openly and honestly. I want us to love each other without all the rules and conditions.”
“What if somebody gets jealous? Then what?”
“We can talk about it. That’s what I meant by open and honest communication. I think as long as we can truly talk, and most importantly, listen to one another we can make this work. I know married couples with relationships like this that are extremely happy. And even if there wasn’t a couple alive who has ever done this I don’t give a shit. This is what I want and I know we can do it. You just have to be willing to grow with me…”
“Are you willing to grow with me? Are you willing to be my King?”
He was quiet for a moment. “I’ve never had a woman say anything like that to me before…Nor have I tried anything like this…”
“I have tried monogamous relationships before and they never seemed to work…”
“Being the logical guy that I am…I figure that if I can try one relationship style more than once and fail…”
“Then I can try a new style…that sounds like a lot more fun, at least once…”
Then he looked up at me and smiled. He kissed me and said,
“But I am willing to try this for you. Let’s do it baby! Let’s grow together.” Cash said.
I squealed and hugged him. The deal was sealed.
I was officially in my first polyamorous relationship with a sexy affectionate man who understood and accepted my desires and loved me anyway…I was on cloud 18.
Soon we were trying to organize my fantasy. I was trying to contact a male dancer I knew to come and give me what I wanted.
He was a friend and I felt comfortable with him.
My baby was fully supportive. In fact he revealed that the entire thing would turn him on. Before y’all get too excited, it did not go down, but we tried.
That night it got even more unpredictable.
I found myself trying to get his dick hard again. The shit wasn’t working and I got pissed all over again.
That led to a semi-serious wrestling match in my bed.
Semi-serious meaning I was really mad and he was really not taking me seriously.
He had me pinned down by my arms while he sat on top of me.
“Get off me Cash! I’m about to go watch porn and beat my own damn meat.”
“Aww poor baby. Are you mad at me?”
“Suck my dick Cash,” I snapped, refusing to make eye contact with him.
I hated his guts and really wanted his ass away from me.
I fought him to no avail. He had my wrist above my bed but I continued my attempts to free myself.
Somehow restraining me changed to his facial expression changing from laughter to slight arousal.
He seemed to enjoy having this power over me.
I noticed a bulge in his basketball shorts…this changed everything.
I had discovered how I could get what I wanted.
I fought even harder. He only got rougher with me. I loved his strength. He was so physically controlling and demanding. It made me wet.
At this point he was not the only mother fucker with a stiffy.
The fact that I was so easily over powered did something to him and to me. I knew I could never win against him no matter how hard I tried …that very fact alone set a raging fire a loose between my legs.
He warned me to stop fighting him.
“Fuck you!” I spewed.
Suddenly, I felt a sting across my left cheek.
I gasped in shock.
He slapped me.
Right across my face.
It wasn’t hard enough to leave a mark but it definitely got my attention.
There was a deadening silence for a several seconds.
As much as I would love to report that I kicked him in the balls, jumped up and ran outside screaming for the po po…I didn’t.
I just got wetter…and obeyed my New King.
I have a true submissive side that I rarely get to display.
Not every man has the privilege of seeing that side of me.
Not every man can smack me around. Not every man can call me a bitch.
Not every man can touch me the way Cash does. I am different with each lover and with him; I am his little “yes whore.”
The truth is I have always had a rape fantasy and he gave me the essence of that. He was intense, he was mean, and he was sexy.
Before I knew it, he was on top of me, shoving his thick dick in and out of me with force. Calling me a whore. I answered to my new name.
"Is this how those other niggas fuck you?" he asked.
I was in too much shock to respond verbally.
This appeared to anger him. He used his hips to push his power inside me with more depth.
“Do you hear me talking to you?”
He demanded as he punished me with medium paced strokes. He was backing out of me slowly only to rush his thickness back inside my juiciness with unbelievably accurate force.
Thinking back on it…Cash’s sex style was the perfect mix between Antonio and August.
"Yes," I gasped as he held me down with my wrists above my head. “This is how I let them fuck me!”
He got even rougher. He grabbed my neck and demanded that look at him.
I did. The look in his eyes was that of anger, lust and excitement. I was gone. I was loving this shit. He could do no wrong.
Even though at times he did hurt me, I liked it too much to stop.
He wrapped his jealous fingers around my neck and gave it a squeeze.
Sexuality should be the 8th wonder of the world…Its fascinating how choking, slapping and other acts of violence can be the cause of the electric chair one moment, and the cause of an electrifying orgasm the next…
Ain’t that some shit?
I grabbed his wrist and tried to remove his hand from around my neck.
My “attempts” to emancipate myself only made him be…harder on me.
I love watching his sculpted muscles flex as he used me. His biceps were tight as he grabbed my face and called me a bitch.
He turned me over on my hands and knees and re-entered me.
“Ahhh! FUCK!” I screamed.
He grabbed my hair and kept abusing me the way I deserved.
“Look at how you just take that dick. Were you gon’ take that strippers dick like this?”
It was my ass that time.
“This is what you want, you want all these niggas fucking you huh?”
“You’re my bitch though. Mine!”
I told him whose bitch I was and I came hard. We were both fucking insane. He grunted his Bahamian grunts and I screamed like a bitch giving birth.
I could tell by his labored breathing that his explosion was approaching.
“Your pussy is gonna make me cum!!”
That was all it took me for to cum once again, right along with my King.
We were sweating like fat bitch on a treadmill.
(Now you see why I don’t remember the first time we had sex?)
“That was fucking…amazing,” I said as I struggled to catch my breath…
“What the fuck have you brought out of me?” He asked some unknown person who lived in my ceiling.
The rest of the trip was quite magical. I took care of him like a good little girl. And he took care of me like a Queen. He was very nurturing towards me. Always opening doors and making sure I was safe.
In public he proudly displayed his affection. Always maintaining some physical contact with me, which was appreciated. I never had to worry about a thing when I was in his presence.
He loved to show me off. He always made me feel like he was so proud to be with me. Always kissing me and ordering my food for me.
If you were to see Cash and I out in public you would never in a million years guess that less than an hour before, he was treating me like a used up porn star and slapping my ass around.
Yet, another crazy thing about humans. We completely transform when lust takes over. We can barely recognize ourselves in the heat of passion.
The only time Cash was ever rough with me was during sex.
To this day he has never even raised his voice at me.
At night he loved to wrap me in his strong arms and hold me tight. I was showered with infatuated kisses.
I wanted him to stay with me forever…I was falling in love…as was he…
Soon after he left, we got ourselves in another…slippery situation.
He got to listen to me get my pussy eaten by a lover of mine. I know I got off on that more than anyone else involved.
"What is he doing to you?” Cash said in my ear through the phone.
"He-he is eating my pussy," I said with shaky breath
" You like it?”
"Oh, God YESSSS." I moaned. The man eating my pussy was a damn genius at cunnilingus. I have had some great head in my day, but he is in the top 3.
He was relentless with his tongue on my clit.
He loved eating it so much that he would do it for hours. He would come over just to eat my pussy. It was times I had to fight back tears. He used to tell me he was addicted to the taste of my pussy. He had great dick too, by the way. We are still in contact to this day. I will love him forever.
I let my fingers grab ahold of his dreadlocks and gave em a little tug. Mofo was wearing me out!
"You letting him lick my pussy baby?" my King asked.
"Oh, fuck yes I am!" I whined as my eyes rolled to the back of my head.
"You gonna let him fuck you?” He asked
"Y-yes….I’m gonna let him fuck me." I said in my little girl voice.
"Yes…I am baby I’m sorry." I told him as my lover tried to kill me with his tongue.
He let out a small grunt. He was stroking his dick.
Hearing Houston groan as he devoured me and Cash grunt as he brought himself to orgasm had me on a high that I will never forget.
Cash’s lustful envy added a brand new level of intensity to the new found freedom I had acquired…
At THAT point. I knew it… I was totally addicted to this poly life. I could never go back to bondage… EVER….
Who knew that just a few short months later our relationship would take a major turn…for the worse….
(To Be Continued)