Diary Of Ariona Taylor

I'm Back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2011-05-03T17:54:00.000-04:00

So before you get all excited, I have a new website and trust I will give out the URL. It's not a blogspot or whoever.com, it's mine!

I want to thank all of you that continued to check back and see if I was still alive! Thank you so much!!!

Just to let you know, I've been having really great sex while establishing my site.

NO JUDGMENT ZONE!!!!!!!!!!!

Check out diaryofarionataylor.com

That's diary of ariona taylor.com

Silenced

2011-03-29T11:59:00.000-04:00

Due to an ongoing investigating, Ariona Taylor has been silenced. But don't worry, once lifted, I will be back harder and stronger.

Porn Star Mentality

2011-03-19T19:44:00.003-04:00

Question: Would you take the opportunity to expose your inner porn star?

  I envy those porn stars. They have great bodies and can take as many dicks as they please. If it wasn't for the fact that society looks down on them, and their vaginas will lose its lining, I would do the same thing. Before you judge me, porn stars and strippers are the reason "our" men creep around. So maybe we can reflect on their naughty attitude. To have the power to tease men and have them melt in your hands.

No, I don't have security issues. I am perfectly fine with my current version of beauty. Except for the cellulite on my thighs and pouch for a stomach. Maybe a little upset about the small breast and dimples in my butt. Other than that, I'm perfectly fine. Power is inevitable. It makes you feel like the world is yours. To have men madly in love with you, begging for your hand in marriage. Yeah, it would be nice.

  It happened to me awhile ago. Met a man that I had complete control over. I would tell you the story, but I'm still being investigated. Once they release me as a witness, I will explain the situation.

  Every man knows that women have some whore like qualities. So for that boring house wife or plain jane girlfriend, release that inner slut to keep him happy. Now if you're in it for the money like all vixens, then you already know what to do. For those that think I have a whore, porn star mentality, well maybe you're right. Sex is wonderful. I love sex and the power it gives me. To be free with that special or not so special someone.

  Make yourself feel good, sleep with that man you've always wanted to. You're not a whore for doing it. You just have whore like qualities. I'm a bad influence and have done everything I claim to have done. I won't apologize for my naughty behavior. And neither should you!!!

Separating The Good From The Bad

2011-03-14T11:22:00.002-04:00

I became a slave to society as soon as I entered this hell. Strong willed, refusing to show weakness, I refused to cry. Then the doctor slapped me on my naked ass and the controversy began. Little did I know the repercussions would not stop there. All of my life I was reprimanded for my strong will. Tossed back and forth from the streets to home, I learned that they were the same place. Mama always had a hustle. She had also always had a selfish streak. I was just another hustle. Not knowing who my daddy was, Mama pawned me off to the highest bidder. Since I was light skinned, I stood a better chance in the divided world where the only dominant color was green. Since I had grown up, the most important lesson that I took with me, was to always love me no matter what anyone said.

Ten years had passed me by. I sat on the broken step of a crack house with no particular thought in mind. My hands trembled. My throat ached. The sun beat on me like a two dollar whore refusing a trick. This was where I had landed. Loving me, depending only on me. Disregarding the help of the good intentioned people along the way. Always thinking that someone was out to get me, when the truth was, everyone was trying to help me. Accusing my high school math tutor of soliciting sex from me, when he was just trying to teach me how to divide and figure out that damn algebra. I had lost myself within myself. Who was I to refuse the kindness of strangers and the familiar faces that had known my struggles all too well. My childhood was no secret. The entire neighborhood knew who I was. Most of them had witnessed the fights between Mama and me. They had also saw the many police raids.

I was no different than the rest of the abandoned children thrown to the streets. Society had labeled me as a misfit, junkie, whore, trash. But one man saw something in me that I didn't even see. Everyone called him “The Mechanic”. He was known to fix cars around the neighborhood. Skinny as a twig, clothes falling off of the malnourished bones I called a body. This man made a bed for me on his sofa. Worn like a pair of shoes, the holes in the cushion were as big as I was. Ever so grateful, I laid there quiet so that he could finish polishing his silverware. He said it was a gift from his great grandmother that got it from her great grandmother years ago. A white woman had given it to her as a peace offering for ruining her life. A platter of silverware made in the early eighteen hundreds worth about two thousand dollars nowadays, hardly enough to compensate for enslaving a human race. Once I knew the story, it angered me to see The Mechanic polishing that twenty piece dinner set. That's what his great great grandmother did all the time to please her massa.

My eighteenth birthday had rolled around. The Mechanic had gotten drunk. He offered me a beer, but I declined. After I seen the devil in him, I wanted nothing to do with that potion. My virginity was far from me. Not my choice though. Physically I was too weak to fight. Mama was suppose to be my strength, but her mind was weaker than mine. The Mechanic didn't overpower me at all. Once that demon left him, I was all his. I could smell traces of it on his breath, but his temperament was calm and comforting.

Now I sit with a legacy of my own in my belly baking for the summer time. Don't know who it is yet. Really don't care. A boy would lead a nation and a girl will birth a new one. Life meant something to me. The Mechanic's liver couldn't gain handle on that demon. They laid him in the ground this afternoon. I cried only because my hormones were out of wack. Emotions were limited in my life, having seen so much. The walls began whisper in that old house. I had to get out of there. As soon as my bare feet hit the pavement, my legacy was born! Great news everyone! I have a soldier for the army. Not the American army. I wouldn't dare do that to my blood. I'm talking about the army of life. A man that will lead this nation to victory with his knowledge and wisdom, not his fist or his gun.

Paying back my ancestors with getting off my ass and working, I became a woman. The Mechanic had left me a few coins in his will. The rest went to his wife and children on the other side of town. Shit happens!

I Got A Secret Shhhh!!!

2011-03-10T22:07:00.000-05:00

   There is a secret that has been on my mind for ten years. It amazed and confused me at the same time. No one ever knew this secret but me. The first time it happened, I just laid there in excruciating pain. Tears showered my face every time. When it happened, I was always home alone. Why me? No human being should have had to go through such turmoil and hell. It was an embarrassing predicament to be in at such a young age. For so long, I've waited to tell someone about the heart wrenching secret that had me in knots every night. Agonizing pain terrorizing my mind constantly.


   Mama took me to see a therapist about my secret, but that lady was not prepared for the frightening truth. I couldn't utter the blatant disgusting truth to that nosy, big nosed, pale, grandma panties wearing closet freak. Whew! She'll know how I feel about her now. There you have it Mrs. Smith. Here I am now a grown woman that's been through so many things, nothing like what I had been through ten years ago when I was seventeen. I have to get it off my chest, but how can I live with the world knowing this demonic secret? Forget it! It doesn't matter what anyone thinks. I'm going to tell this secret and be judged to the fullest extent. Here it is world!


   Ten years ago, I needed a job. Mama wouldn't give me any money and I couldn't get any assistance from social services. There was a married couple that lived a few doors down. The man was legally blind and required assistance getting around. I offered to help the man if the woman paid me one-hundred and fifty dollars a week. She agreed. That next morning I went to work for the couple. As we sat inside of the three bedroom trailer, Bob, the blind man, told me stories about how he used to sell drugs before he went to prison. Sadly, that was where his vision had degenerated. Bob admitted to having over ten thousand dollars stashed in the backyard of that very trailer. At first I didn't believe him, but when I helped him to the old rusty trunk hidden in an empty dog house in the backyard, my opinion changed.


   Bob told me that he was dying of pancreatic cancer. His wife would be well off with his insurance money, so he was just going to spend his savings. All I could do was laugh. There was no way this guy was serious. When I left that evening, I went to sleep with a big smile on my face. What if Bob was serious? I could have really used at least some of that money. The next morning, I walked in and Bob sat on the back porch where the money was. Bob appeared shaken to the core. I asked him what was wrong. It shocked me when he told me that the doctors told him he only had a few days to live. My heart broke for him. I leaned over to hug Bob, then jumped back when I felt a finger in my butt! Never having been that close to an old person before, the smell of mothballs and future death, made me nauseous.



   Bob told me that his wife had stop sleeping with him after he was diagnosed. Since he was dying, he would give anything to have one last orgasm. My stomach turned a hundred times in two seconds. The back of my throat taste of vomit. Shaking my head in complete disregard, I stood up and walked away. Bob pleaded with me. He kept reminding me that he would die before the week was over with. He told me that all the money in the trunk could be mine. His wife knew nothing about it. Bob said he was saving the money for his first born, but since he never had children, he would leave the money buried.


   Bob held my hand, gently rubbing his wrinkles against my sweaty hands. After staring at the money, which Bob told me to dig up. I swallowed my pride and all self dignity. Bob wanted to go into the den. I sat him on the couch. He couldn't see me anyway, so I didn't have to undress. Surprisingly, Bob wanted to suck on my breast. Ugh!!!! As soon as he touched me, it felt just like it looked. A toothless man sucking and slobbering all over my breast. I wanted to die! I jumped off of Bob, spit ran down my chest. There was no way I could do it, but Bob began crying. Sitting back on his lap, I unbuttoned his trousers. Interesting enough, Bob had a hard on. Not quite a full hard. It felt like a big worm invaded my vagina. Within seconds Bob had an orgasm. But when I lifted off of him, urine seeped out of me. Bob looked embarrassed. Great, he urinated inside of me.


   Taking all of the money and running home to shower four times, I stashed eight thousand dollars under the floor boards of my room. When I walked out of the house, all I saw were Paramedics and police swarmed around Bob's house. As soon as Bob's wife saw me, she marched over and slapped me in my face. I had taking the money and ran, forgetting that Bob was still blind. He had tried to get up and clean himself off, when he tripped over his unbuttoned pants, falling head first into the fireplace. Two officers walked over and placed me in handcuffs.


   Sitting in the interrogation room, my pathetic life flashed before my eyes. Crying like a baby, I regretted being so stupid. Who fucks an old blind man. That was nasty! The homicide detective entered the room along with Bob's wife. He sat across from me with a cup of coffee sitting on the table. Immediately, I asked if I was going to jail. The detective sipped on the scolding coffee. He asked me numerous questions about what happened at Bob's house. I told them about Bob's cancer and how he was about to die. I added that Bob paid me five thousand dollars from money he had stashed in the backyard. It was all out on the table about Bob going to prison for selling drugs and was released due to his deteriorating eyesight.


   The detective and I both stared clueless at Bob's wife. She had tilted her head back, laughing like no tomorrow. Hand slapping the table, screaming and hyperventilating with laughter. In between shrills, the small framed woman began telling the story of Bob Canton. My eyes widened as I learned that Bob had not been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. His right eye was completely without sight and his left eye was slightly blind. But nothing could have prepared me for the bomb of them all. Bob had not gone to prison for selling drugs, he had gone for illegally printing money! Having worked in the U.S Tresury for twelve years, Bob was arrested and charged with stealing the metal plates and running a store front printing shop. The Federal Government seized every penny Bob had, except ten thousand dollars! She had known about the money the entire time. Bob always bragged that the Feds would never get all of his money, he had even told his wife that she would never get it either. Then again, Bob also suffered from Alzheimer's and would frequently give then take back the money all the time.


   Tickled pink by my embarrassment, Bob's wife refused to press charges. She laughed so hard that the old bag fell over on the table dead and still smiling. The detective released me and I ran home and vomited for the rest of the night.

School House Disturbance

2011-03-06T12:14:00.001-05:00

In the ninth grade, a school bully kicked me so hard in my back, that I was rushed to the emergency room. After that, the teacher thought it would be a good idea to move me to another class. Sitting in the back of the special education class, I felt belittled and worthless. Even the mentally challenged students were laughing at my frayed, dirty clothes. With no support from anyone, I ran away.

  Mama only help to find me because she was getting a check from the Department of Social Services. When the social worker and police found me, I was hiding under the staircase in the library. When I told the social worker about being teased, she recommended an alternative school. NovaNet was basically for underprivileged children with family issues such as mine. Someone from the administrative office had donated a box full clothes and shoes to my front door over the weekend. Was I happy to wear designer clothing to school.

   That Monday morning. Up early, in the shower, dressed to impress, I strutted down the street to school. There were guys blowing their car horns at my defined curves. All the attention made me feel great. Once I entered the classroom, I noticed a slight tingle between my legs. I knew it was because all of the hip switching I was doing. My fellow classmates were studying at the computers. When I sat down, a girl that never spoke to me, leaned over a tapped me on the shoulder.

   "Hey! You fit those really well." She was very popular, so her comment really brighten my day.

   "I hope you washed them good. They gave me the worst yeast infection." Instantly my crotch began to itch. I ran to the bathroom and took the jeans off. There was a rash on the inside of both thighs. Too raw for touch, I couldn't put my jeans back on. I had to walk down the hall, legs opened like an Ostrich, in my underwear!

Tattletale

2011-02-27T10:04:00.000-05:00

I sat in the kitchen in the fetal position crying my eyes out. Mama had whipped me for the first time in my life. I had done the worst thing a human could ever do. The most disgusting act too heinous to even mention on this very page! Mama had enough of me one weekend. It started with one of my twin cousins, Kyla. She was very popular in high school with the advantage of getting away with murder if she wanted to. Coreletta, the twins mother, had married the Sheriff. That was a golden opportunity for Mama to obtain more drugs. Her heroin habit had reached an all time high, (no pun intended). Kyla would steal evidence her crooked step-father would withhold from a drug bust.

Kyla, the oldest twin by three minutes, had a dark side. To be sixteen, she knew a lot of guys and had told Mama once that she dated a few of the men her step-dad had locked up. Kyla was currently dating Taser, a fresh parolee. He had shot a rival gang member. Spending ten of his thirty year sentence in prison for the cold blooded murder, Taser, who was twenty-nine, had no problem sliding his way into Kyla's legs. I mean heart!

Since her parents did not know what Kyla was up to, she would sneak over to our house. Mama treated that girl better than me. She would give Kyla beer and even allowed the illegal couple to have sex in the back of the house. Taser began to set up shop in the laundry room of our run down mobile home. Kyla pranced around with her weed and beer like she was grown. They talked like best friends, Kyla and Mama. I hated Kyla, so I told her parents about her sneaking over to our house and drinking. Coreletta had sent Kyla away to live with her paternal grandmother. Sneaking away from there also, Kyla was back within days.

Mama hid the slutty bitch when her step-dad came looking for her. Licking her tongue at me as they tied me up, duct taping my mouth shut. The last straw was when Mama had moved me out of my room and gave it to Kyla because she was "pregnant". Mama knew damn well that me and Nadia shared that room. I only held on to it for that reason. Nadia was my older sister. Mama's heroin addicted boyfriend had turned her into a whore, injected her with that poison and then when she overdosed, the bastard threw her into the back of a pickup truck that barricaded our bedroom window. Mama knew that room held a lot of memories for me. When I came home from school that next afternoon, all of my things were packed neatly by the bathroom door.

The next day, I informed the school of my home life. The way I had been treated. Within minutes, a social worker and two deputies were knocking on my front door. Sitting across the street at the park, watching the commotion go down as the deputies caught Mama, Kyla, and Taser getting high from the large batch of heroin on the table. They were to high to fight the police. Being dragged lifelessly to jail, the three druggies were taken downtown. Days later, after things had settled down, I entered the trailer resuming life like before. I threw out Kyla's belongings, fixed myself a sandwich, then settled down to a movie. Maybe being a tattletale wasn't so bad after all.

G.E.D

2011-02-19T12:56:00.000-05:00

   Education is important, that's why I had decided to go back to school and try for my G.E.D. It would be easy, since I was already very intelligent. After registration, there were two mandatory orientations I had to attend. On a ten minute break the class recevied, I went upstairs to the vending machine for an ice cold Pepsi. Standing a few feet away was a baggy jeans wearing young man with his hair cut close and beard neatly trimmed. He was cute, but I knew that he was young by the crew he hung with. They were loud, disrespectful and wore their pants so far off their behinds, they could barely walk. But this guy didn't. His pants were baggy, but he kept them half way on his behind.

   I stood at the soda machine angry that it only sold Coke products. Grabbing a orange flavored Fanta, I took the elevator back downstairs. Minutes later, the cutie pie joined me outside without his crew. He stood a foot away from me as he opened his cigarette pack and lit one up.

  "Oh excuse me. Do you mind?" Ain't he sweet? I just smiled and sipped my soda.

  "They're your lungs." Pulling out my Blackberry, I logged on to my favorite website and commented on a few posts. Just then, that same guy sat next to me on the concrete wall, but without the cigarette.

   "I'm Daron Weston. And you are?" Gently placing my manicured hand in to his masculine ashy hand. It appeared that whatever occupation Daron had, he worked hard.

   "My name's Ariona Taylor and I'm not sleeping with you just because you're being polite." Men thought that since I spoke with proper grammar and knew words like Omnipotent, which meant almighty, unlimited power. Most men thought that I was a high class prostitute, instead of a very intelligent woman. They felt like they had to buy expensive gifts for me to open my legs. I was so beyond that stage. Now that I was twenty-four, I was looking for love.

   "Oh, That's cool. I really just wanted some head anyway!" Bursting into laughter, Daron stood up and walked inside of the building. I tried to hold my smile in, but it refused to be hidden. Daron motioned for me to come inside as our break was over.


   Occasionally throughout class, Daron and I would glance at each other and smile at the immature jokes we told during our breaks. Daron made me laugh and not just any laugh, a deep heartfelt laugh that brightened my entire week. After class, we went out to lunch in the school's cafeteria. We knew class was over, but as long as we showed our school I.D, we were granted a discount. Daron was mature for his age. Only nineteen and working for his uncle as a cement mixer, Daron had his ups and downs in life. He had paid his debt to society for his prior arrest of possession of a control substance with intent to sell. I listened carefully as the youngster poured his heart to me.

   School wasn't going so well. Math was like another language and I was the illegal alien trying to learn it. Daron was also struggling but with science. He talked about giving up and I slapped him out of it, literally. Nothing was going to stop us from proving everyone else wrong. We just needed to relieve some stress. Daron lived with his uncle and five kids, so I invited him over to my small apartment for a home cooked meal and a movie. After dinner, I sat on the barstool sipping on a glass of Island Fruit. Daron was on the front porch smoking a cigarette. When he came in, Daron hurried and locked the front door. There I stood butt naked, glistening with baby oil.

   Daron kissed me all over. Laying me down on the black leather sectional sofa, spreading my legs as far apart as they would go. His tongue rubbing the top of my clitoris like a feather, then curling his strong spit filled muscle around my swollen sweet spot. Within seconds, Daron's face was covered with my love. He was generous enough to wrap my trembling legs around his wide shoulders and plunge that long, thick, black erect dick into my awaiting hot, moist, dripping wet pussy. Daron gave me as much sex as my little body could handle.

     Our instructor was impressed that Daron and I mastered the weakest subjects. Two months later, we graduated and received our equivalent diplomas. My motivation wasn't to be educated or get a good job. There was no goal for a G.E.D, but to finish something I had once started. G.E.D no longer meant General Education Diploma to me. After meeting Daron, GED stood for something I could use more than reading, writing, science, history and mathematics. My new definition of G.E.D was;

GETTING ENOUGH DICK!

Falling In Love

2011-02-14T17:44:00.000-05:00

   A force of heat rushed through me. Breaking down all barriers, justifying all wrong. What was this feeling coming over me? I opened every inch of my steaming hot body to his. No holding back, I gave him all of my soul that night on the balcony, as his wife of ten years watched in horror. No apologizes as he pounded my flesh, deep inside of my love, he explored attentively. Deeper and deeper I had fallen in love. High octaves pierced the quiet sky as the pleasure exceeded its limits and I melted all over his tongue.

   For weeks we would see each other and make love at a moments glance. I knew nothing about him. No name, no phone number. He was always there in my building waiting for me. I told myself that I was crazy. But nothing could break my soul away from the explosion of steaming hot sex every night. Nothing stopped us. Not even getting arrested for fucking in the public elevator, or in the apartment complex pool, the complex gym, or on the lawn. Anyone looking into our world would say that we were sick, but we knew that everyone wished they could be as free as we were. Who was he? I didn't care. He loved me though. I felt it. No man had ever made me have multiple orgasms every time. I had never questioned any moves he made. Not even coming home to him inside my apartment. As soon as entered, he ripped my clothes off and had his way with me. The blinds opened wide for the world to see. It didn't matter. I was his slave and he was my master.

   My wardrobe became shorter, smuttier, tighter, slits and splits for easier access. Walking down the street to meet him, which was strange. He had always been there waiting for me. Never to disobey his command, I walked down the boulevard wearing a silk mini skirt and tube top with no bra or panties. I waited on the corner pacing back and forth, but he did not show. Instead a group of thugs ran up on me. It wasn't the same. They weren't as gentle as he had been. They made me feel dirty. One by one at first, then two by two. When I began to scream, they stuffed my mouth with their body genitalia .

   The sun rose on my worn out body in the middle of the street. There he was but he appeared different. His short wavy hair was shaved off. The neatly trimmed mustache was trimmed off. A beast like creature he resembled. Ugly and demented. I had been fooled! He reached out his hand and I slapped it away. Lowering his head in shame, he walked away into the sunrise. All of a sudden the world seemed to pass me by. It was like a movie being fast forwarded. There I was in my apartment laying in bed. I turned over to my right to see Brent, my lover of two years sleeping. It had all been a dream! There was nothing to worry about.

   Once Brent had waken, he dressed quickly so that he could get home in time before his wife noticed he was gone. A sin so good, burning my soul. He was the great lover in the dream. He made me feel that we could explore each other's bodies without conviction. In fact, Brent had explored a part of my body that no one had. Anal sex had become my favorite with Brent. I knew that dream meant I had to let Brent go, but I wasn't ready to yet. Not until Brent wanted to spice up our relationship by role playing. He had taken a short navy blue dress out of my closet and told me to meet him that night at eleven, at the restaurant where we first kissed. It had been years since we visited that restaurant.

   I didn't show that night but when I watched the news, it was reported that a man was robbed at gun point and stripped nude. The disgusted newscaster added that the gang was also responsible for multiple rapes in that area.

Dodge that bullet, huh?

A Little Rest

2011-02-10T17:35:00.000-05:00

Nothing was going to stop me from relaxing from a week's worth of overtime. My feet ached, my back was in pieces and my skin felt like a desert from constant neglect. Making reservation at Glamour Day Spa, I went in and immediately laid on the table for a deep tissue back massage. Just then my phone vibrated. It had to be personal because I was off from work and my boss never called me. The massage felt so good that my eyes began to close. Again my Blackberry vibrated.

"Do you want to get that?" The masseuse  asked out of consideration.

"No. Keep going." Feeling the week lifted from my burdened shoulders, I wanted every minute of my hour of pleasure.

  After the massage, I was escorted to another table, where a small framed Asian woman piled some green mask on my face. Then after a few glasses of wine and cheese crackers, I was sent on my way feeling like a million bucks, but looked like the one hundred dollars I spent for the spa treatment. Once I sat inside of my car, I checked the missed calls on my cell phone. They were all from my Mama!

She had needed to go to the hospital due to stress. Her blood pressure was extremely high. Of course it was my fault that she had to call an ambulance. My uncle needed to cash his check and even my grandmother wanted a ride to the Bingo hall. Every single one of them received a Social Security check. Why couldn't they just call a taxi! I guess that's what I was for. When I was finished taking everybody everywhere, my car wouldn't start, my head was pounding again and a strange potent burning smell in the car brought tears to my eyes.

  Having to call one of my co-workers to bring me some gas on a highway, boosted my stress level to a ten. After an hour, I called my co-worker again when she didn't show. Her phone rang and rang. Finally, I had decided to walk to a gas station a few miles down the road. Cars flew passed me slightly rocking me off the road. Not thinking twice, I stepped in the fallen branches way off the highway when the big Semi trucks passed. Since everyone knew that my car was unavailable, no one called. Before I could get to the gas station, I had to cross four lanes of speeding cars and trucks. Once the lanes were slowing down, I dared to cross. Before my feet could hit the pavement, rain poured from the sky, making the entire highway disappear. All I heard were car horns. There was no way I could get across safely, so I sat under a tree and cried.

  When the rain stopped, daylight peeked through the clouds. I had spent the entire night on a the side of a highway in pouring rain. Soaked through to my bone marrow, I made it to the gas station. Standing at the counter, shaking from the instant chill of the AC, the clerk walked over to the coffee machine and gave me a free cup of coffee. She even gave me a gas can to pump twenty dollars of gasoline in for my car. A friend of the clerk walked in shortly after and offered to give me a ride back. I sat in the warm pickup truck while the short husky gentlemen poured gas in my car. Suddenly he knocked on the passenger window to get my attention.

"You got a full tank!" Showing me gasoline all over the ground.

"Why won't it start?" The man walked over and popped opened the hood. Then walked back to the pickup truck. He took a black bottle from the back of the truck. I watched with curiosity as he poured the contents of the bottle inside a tube under my hood.

"Your car overheated. I poured water in it, but your engine is blown. You ain't driving that thing nowhere!" Shaking his head, the man asked me where I lived. He hooked my Mazda on the back of his pickup and took me home.

When we arrived to my apartment, I thanked the gentlemen greatly. When I hopped out of the truck, the man gently laughed.

"You need some rest." After he unhooked my car, I went inside and took some Tylenol. When I went to the bathroom to shower, I realized what the man was laughing at. Of all the embarrassing things to happen, my period had started, heavily!

Kill Me Already!

2011-02-07T16:27:00.000-05:00

Lonnie and his wife Selma moved in next door to me last week. They appeared to be nice and sweet until I noticed Lonnie running after Selma from their home screaming how much he loved her. When he caught me watching, Lonnie approached me with tears in his eyes.

"I gave her everything!" Comforting him with my opened arms and stove filled with hot soul food, I invited Lonnie in.

We sat and talked about his marriage for hours. Lonnie then left and I had not seen him since. Weeks had passed and there were new neighbors moving in. They too were a married couple. I spoke to the husband one morning and noticed something familiar about him. It was a Lonnie! He had a clean shave and a new truck. Months had passed and it was no secret that Lonnie couldn't hold this marriage together either. The woman packed her bags and almost ran me over getting away from him.

There was something wrong with this situation. Lonnie was very attractive and he made great money working as an Engineer. Those women were crazy to leave him! I walked up to Lonnie as he sat crying on the front porch.

"They're all fools. You're a great guy." Lonnie thanked me and offered to take me out. I agreed since all I did was watch naked men on the computer.

Lonnie picked me up in front of my house even though I lived right next door. I thought it was sweet. We dined at an exclusive restaurant and entwined in Lonnie's den watching his 60in plasma TV. Being a perfect gentlemen, I couldn't see why those women would leave such a man like Lonnie. Enjoying the night of pampering as Lonnie rubbed my feet, massaged my aching back and held me so close to his bare chest, I wanted to indulge in the mountain of sexiness under me, but I didn't want Lonnie to know how horny I was. After dropping me off at my front door, Lonnie kissed me on my cheek. We set up another date and I floated into my living room on a cloud of love.

The second date with Lonnie was a little strange. He had offered to feed me strawberries on the living room floor, but I was still in aw of how clingy Lonnie was. He had been by my side all day and even stood outside of the bathroom when I had to pee. Lonnie also had a habit that drove me up the wall. He gritted his teeth! Lonnie also didn't flush the toilet when he used it and the mother of them all. Lonnie had the worst intestines in the world. He would fart right in front of me. The smell could cure AIDS! I excused myself and ran out of the back door.

A few minutes later, Lonnie knocked on my door. He was screaming that I had abandoned him. This man was insane. I called the police when Lonnie broke my window and tried to enter.

"I loved you girl! I gave you everything!" Yeah he did. Lonnie had literally given me everything he had INSIDE.

A year later, I met a man with a mansion in Los Angeles. He was the sexiest man on the planet until he had flown me out for one week to be with him. Those abs of his were painted on top of a blob. His perfect straight teeth were dentures and his face was a mask of makeup. The fifty year old sugar daddy I thought I had found was an eighty year old Alzheimer patient with erectile dysfunction. He thought I was his wife that he met on a movie set forty years ago!

This can't be my life!!!

True Love In The Strangest Form

2011-02-04T18:36:00.001-05:00

This year was the year to have something to show for the ten hours a day I put in all year at my job. Working as a Phlebotomist, earning $24,340 a year, only helped to pay the mortgage and car note. I barely had enough money to buy cold medicine after my bills were paid. Well, this year was different. I declared that I would buy myself something that made a statement that I was employed. Recently learning that watching TV after hours lowered my electric bill, I only turned on the thirty-five inch bulky TV set after midnight. While resting my worn out body from working all day on my all black futon sofa bed, a major cell phone company advertised a brand spanking new Blackberry Curve. From the moment I laid my eyes on the cute little QWERTY keypad and the 5x zoom digital camera, and not to mention the beautiful media player with the ability to download from a popular music site that rhymes with MouPube!

All that night I thought about that Blackberry Curve. The phone I currently owned had internet and played videos from MouPube, but the connection was too slow. By the time it loaded, I didn't want to see the video any more. I wanted that Blackberry Curve dammit! That next morning, I used one of my sick days, took the day off and went shopping for my true love. As soon as I touched the display, a sales representative approached me.

"They have been selling like hotcakes!" Dressed in his black and white uniform with cell phone logos printed all over his crew neck shirt, the sales rep began pitching his game. What he did not know was that the commercial had already sold the phone to me.

"How much is it?" That was the one of the main details the advertisement omitted.

"It's $699 but it's on sale for $499 with approved credit. On top of that, the first month is free!" At first, the price didn't hit home until he said I couldn't make payments. That's what I was used to.

Not only did I need good credit, but I had to sign a two year contract and the bill could range from $80-$100 a month. Handing the rep $930, taxes and deposit included, with an agreement of paying $87 a month for two years, I was finally united with my first true love, the Blackberry Curve.

Since the Blackberry Curve was a smart phone, it programmed itself and was ready to use, well after activation with customer service. Instantly, I played around with all of the features. The insanely high speed internet and all of the Blackberry Apps. There was even a Blackberry instant messenger that would send a message in less than a second! Beautiful! It would take me at least five minutes to text from my old phone. The internet browser was slow and most of the web pages were not supported. But the Blackberry Curve changed all of that!

Before I knew it, the sun was setting. I had spent seven hours, almost an entire work day, in my car on my new Blackberry Curve! Turning the key in the ignition, I was off toward home to charge the battery since I had been on the phone so long. Just as stopped at a red light, my new Blackberry Curve began to vibrate. My love was letting me know that something was going on. I picked up the sweet joy and there was my first text message! Without a second thought, I clicked the highlighted "view" button to read what my love had for me. It was a message from the company welcoming me to their network. Also following that message was another stating that I needed to pay an additional $40 to cover the charges since I bought the phone after the bill was sent out.

Trying to understand the message, I read it again. It made no sense that I would have to pay half the bill for a phone I didn't even own, when the bill was sent out three days before I brought the damn phone! I tried texting the company back, but the message was automated and I couldn't reply. By this time the traffic light had turned green. Pulling into my desired lane, the Blackberry Curve vibrated again. It was another message! Curious to know what it said, I glanced at the colorful screen trying to read more of the bullshit the company was sending me. Without warning, a car slammed in the front of my car, launching me like a bullet out of the back windshield. Hitting the car behind me in the headlights with my head, I slipped in and out of consciousness. The paramedics rushed me to the ambulance, but I stopped them in their tracks.

"I'm not alone!" I shouted. Frantically, the medics searched my car.

"Who was with you?!" They all shouted. One medic grabbed my hand and told me to squeeze if I could hear him. I squeezed. I pulled him closer to my bloodied face.

"You have to save my Blackberry Curve! I just spent my rent money on it and I'll be homeless by the time I get out of the hospital. My car is totaled. It's all I have left!"

The medic angrily motioned for the tow truck driver to haul my sedan that had been crushed to the size of a child's lunch box off to the junkyard. Even though the medics tried to stitch my arm back on my body, they could never replace the true reason for living, my Blackberry Curve!

Phone Call From Cousin

2011-02-03T10:20:00.002-05:00

This is an actual call from my cousin the day after I told her that I'm the voice behind Ariona Taylor.

BB rings, Me in sleepy voice: Hello?

Cousin: Hey, girl. Are you writing on your blog now?

Me: No, it's 6am. Why are you calling so early?

Cousin: My car broke down on my way to work. I'm stuck on Hwy 421.

Me: So you need a ride?

Cousin: Yeah for today, but I could use a new car.

Me: You and everybody else. Look, I'm half sleep. What do you need?

Cousin: I was thinking you could get me a new car! My mama said you brought a new plasma. I mean we're family so we should help each other out.

Me: All your friends read my blog?

Cousin: Yeah! That's all we talk about and when I told them you was my cousin, they wanted meet you!

Me: Really? I may just do that. I'll give them a shout out on the blog.

Cousin: So will you help me get a new car?

Me: Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Cousin: Hello? Hello?

To my cousin's friends at the Crazy Horse strip club: WHAT'S UP?

Little Black Girl Is White

2011-01-30T14:45:00.001-05:00

Why would anyone have an issue with the color of their skin? Of course, Martin Luther King Jr. preached that a day would come when all races could unite and be free from segregation. I truly believed that. I cried at his assassination when they showed the movie in school. The entire room fell silent. I was proud to be African American. But once I went to high school, Dr. King's message had hit me full force. I was in love with Joshua McCants, first African American football draft pick in the entire state. We were the best couple. Him being an athlete and me being an honor roll student, also volunteering to homeless shelters and asking the Government for a grant for high school pregnant teens to have a place to go when their parents kicked them out. They would have to be monitored with birth control, but they would have a home. All through college, Dr. King's words of peace and equality echoed in my head.

I recited the "I Have A Dream" speech every morning before class and during work at the shelter for pregnant teens. Every time some Caucasian thought I was being unfair, I was a racist. Even when a darker complected African American felt betrayed by me, they called me a house nigger. Dr. King's speech echoed in my ear. It wasn't until Joshua went to California to play for the San Diego Chargers. Once we arrived at the hotel suite, there were barbie looking white women prancing around with short "uniforms", and I use that word very lightly. As Joshua and I toured California, I apologized to the white women in my head. There were so many nationalities of barbies willing to do anything for a first draft pick.

The endless flirting didn't bother me. Not even the phone numbers in his pockets. What woman wanted a man, no one else wanted? It wasn't until Joshua slept with the plastic barbie doll, had a child from her and married her, all before I could even figure why he left me. He told me over the phone that my skin color was strong for persevering through tough times. Cooking and cleaning his home and occasionally a shoulder to cry on, but it was too dark for the media. Too dark for his presence. His new found fame. Dr. King had spoken true words, but I was weakened with pain to listen. I ran to the drug store and brought every cream, wipes, lotion of skin lightening I could find. Researched every plastic surgeon in the entire state. Finally, I was perfect!

Joshua saw me after one of his games and ran to greet me. His wife was shocked that he was in my bed that night. He loved me again. Joshua had gotten a divorce and executed his parental rights with that bitch! We were happy. That Christmas Eve, Joshua and I put up the live Christmas tree and lights. The star shined so bright, it lit the entire living room. I noticed that when I was close to the lights, my face would burn. Once I put on a layer of sun block, the pain went away. Christmas morning I had waken to blotches all over my face. Large red welts covered my face and neck. The pain was unbearable. Joshua rushed me to the hospital where they gave me multiple hypoallergenic drugs. The welts went away and so did the blotches, but my skin was darker than when I started out. Now I had to wrap my entire body with cloth whenever I left the house. I was diagnosed with Melanoma, the worst form of skin cancer.

I'm sorry Dr. King!!!

Joshua left me again and all I had was a poster of Dr. King. Reading his speech over and over again.

"I don't think that day is here yet!" Crying myself so hard my legs fell from underneath me and I hit the floor.

Revenge 101

2011-01-24T18:59:00.006-05:00

My O.C.D began with the night I was raped. Constant showers made me feel clean and beautiful again. It had gotten to the point where I would stay in the shower for days at a time. My body would be a prune when I got out. Rape is never any victim's fault, but I blamed myself for the attack. If I hadn't led that man on like that, teasing him with my supple breast. Grinding against his genitals, shaking my large toned ass all in his face, then maybe he wouldn't have snapped. I blamed myself because it was all my fault! So much therapy and it only made life worse. I was to blame for all my troubles.

Life had become so much of a blur, that I didn't realize I was standing two feet away from my assailant in the post office. He recognized me instantly and walked over.

"Listen, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" Tears were coming from his eyes like melting ice. He extended his hand in reconciliation, but my entire body was frozen. Here he was in HD apologizing for his sin and I couldn't move if I wanted to.

"Did you hear me? I'm sorry I hurt you. How can I make it up to you?" When I didn't respond, that bold bastard wrote down his phone number and stuffed it inside the large pocket of my hoodie.

For the rest of that day, I was confused about what happened. He had known that I didn't press charges and for him to approach me like that in the open, made me feel like he was okay with what he had done. Casually dropping his number in the pocket of the girl he raped weeks ago! An apology was fine, but did he really expect me to call him? Maybe the reality of the attack had finally set in because at that moment, I wanted to get revenge!

It took me another two weeks to plot together a plan. I had let go of the anger to appear more forgiving. Andrew, the rapist, met me at the Dots Inn motel two blocks from the strip club where I was assaulted. We spent five hours talking about the incident and Andrew cried each hour. He had brought me jewelery to make up for his transgressions, but a diamond ring couldn't replace what was left of my virginity. That's what I told him anyway. I put the many gifts Andrew brought me into my black travel bag. There were a few other surprises that I packed for that snake, Andrew.

"Let's have sex. Consensual this time." Lies rolled from my lips as I convinced Andrew, who seemed to have suffered from severe depression, to undress and lay on the bed. Dimming the lights, I swayed my hips over to Andrew. I could hear my heavy heart beat as I straddled his small frame.

Sitting on top of him made me want to vomit. The fact that he had actually gotten an erection was unbelievable! I unzipped the side pocket of my black travel bag and removed a pair of handcuffs. Andrew protested so much that I had to show him my breast to shut him up. Handcuffing him to the headboard, I then removed a small plastic valve from the bag and popped opened the top.

"What's that?" Placing my finger over his lips to silence him, I gently stroked Andrew's penis with my hand. His eyes rolled in the back of his demonic head. Squeezing gently, rubbing that criminal's dick until it swelled with intent to cum. Then with all the force I could muster up, I jammed his thick dick into the tiny valve of pure Sulfuric Acid!

For My Readers

2011-01-22T08:45:00.000-05:00

Just to let everyone know, Jessica is real. She is my distant cousin that slept with the father of my baby. Her alias messed me up. She used to go by the nickname, Red, since she was damn near white. Her government name is Scarlet. Her beef with me? Scarlet is HIV positive and blames me for that. Here's the story:

Back in the summer of 1997, my cousin Scarlet had her first child by a married man. So much shame was placed upon her that she gave the baby away. Since she was only nineteen, giving her baby up didn't phase her that much. It wasn't until the spring of 2008, when I had my baby, that Scarlet regretted her mistake. She would always make sarcastic remarks about our parenting, since my baby's father stayed with me. Scarlet wanted my life so she tried her best to sabatoge my relationship.

Scarlet had no idea what I was going through. My baby's father had become abusive toward me. I hid behind the name brand clothing and the brand new car he bought me. That's all Scarlet and everyone else saw. After two years of abuse, the final straw that turned me off from the love of my life, was when he cheated with multiple women. To make matters even worse, he brought the video that he made with those bitches, home and showed it to me telling me I should pay close attention. Right at that moment, I packed my baby's clothes and a few of mine. He knew that I had a lot of responsibilities taking care of our baby. Life was not the way it used to be.

Once Scarlet found out that I had separated from my baby's father, her claws were all in. She boasted about much sex they had. How much of a freak he was and how he said she was "better" than I was. The huge, extravagant grin she wore on her face made me sick. Scarlet even rubbed in the fact that he wasn't taking care of his baby either. She would wave her diamond bracelet in my face and scream,

"How many packs of diapers can you buy with this?!" Anger and devastation filled my heart. All I could do was continue on my journey and be a good mother. I should have beat her ass, you say? Then I would have ended up in jail. Then who would care for my baby? Scarlet's a snitch!

A few months later Scarlet was badly beaten by baby daddy and hospitalized. Scarlet had been tested from her job as a nurse and learned that she was HIV positive. Since Scarlet thought she was the only woman, she confronted baby daddy and he whipped her ass. Then she accused me of infecting him, but I was routinely tested throughout our relationship, since he had given me Chlamydia once.

So you see "Jessica" it wasn't my fault. Your whoreish ways just caught up with you!

Thanks again for reading!!

Dear Jessica

2011-01-21T11:30:00.000-05:00

What's up, friend?

I noticed that you were a little upset with me. Why? Is it because of my writing style? You have a sister named Katelyn, well I do apologize for her untimely death, but I do insist that you have me mistaken for someone else. I do not know you at all. I appreciate you reading my blog, even if it was a negative reaction. You are very entertaining Jessica! Entertaining indeed.

Ariona Taylor
No Judgement Zone!!!

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

2011-01-17T13:49:00.002-05:00

Raising a family isn't hard to do. That's why when I visited my old classmate, Chansela Thompson, I sat outside in my two seater praying that my tubes would tie themselves! Five children, ages ranging from seven to eighteen months. Poor child was only twenty-five with a streak of gray hair in her loosely made ponytail. She needed help badly, but the bastard that got her pregnant, was in prison for non support payments. It would have been funny if the kids hadn't been deprived. I waited in the car for another ten minutes. After I heard cursing, I ran up the twenty steps and poked my nose in the wrong business.

"What are you doing, Chansela?" The thin framed high school drop out had her third oldest in a headlock trying to manage the mane on her head.

"She won't stay still! I have to be at the damn social services at ten!" Popping the chubby bowlegged girl on the back of her neck with the wide tooth comb, Chansela threw her on the sofa full of dirty clothes. My heart sank as I went to see if the little girl was alright. Wiping tears from her eyes, I asked her name.

"Malinda." Sniff sniff. "what's your name?" She then wiped a long watery booger from her nose.

"My name is Ariona. Your mom and I went to high school together. Here, let me tell you how we met." I sat Malinda on the sofa beside me, where we could get a spot, and began telling her the story of how Chansela and I had met. Malinda paid close attention as I began with the cafeteria showdown between me and one of Chansela's friends. How she didn't like me because I had worn the same outfit she had but looked better in it. Well, that was what I told her before she threw grape jelly all over it. Malinda laughed at me getting my ass whipped by a tiny Asian exchange student. Shaking her chubby face at how Chansela started a bet on who would win and cashed in big when the Asian karate chopped me in the throat! Oh, did she holler when I told her about the footprint in my forehead that lasted weeks after the fight.

When the story was finished, Malinda hugged me and ran into her room when I told her to get dressed. After all, her hair was neatly combed and pulled back into a ponytail. Chansela was completely ungrateful.

"What'd you do, offer her a candy bar?" Sliding her feet across the dusty floor like house slave.

"No." I said in disgust. "I just tried a different approach. One not so violent." Chansela laughed, then threw her hands in the air.

"Please take them if you think you can do better. Please!" Chansela sat on the arm of a vintage chair with so many stains covering it, the original color was obsolete.

Finally all of the children were ready to go. I had no idea how I was going to safely transport five children in a two seater car. The baby's car seat alone took the space of another human being. Secure enough, we all rode across town to the local social services for Chansela to reapply for food stamps. It was called a re certification, but all it meant that after three months, she would have to come in and report any new changes or if things were the same within her household. The only new change I could see in Chansela's household were less roaches. I guess the rats stopped being picky and ate them!

When Chansela finished her errands, I offered to treat all the kids for ice cream. By the annoyed expression on Chansela's face, I could see that was a bad idea. My first mistake was allowing the words ice cream to loosely slip from my mouth around children. For the entire ride home they really did scream for ice cream. Chansela became violent and reached in the back and punched all five screaming children. That wasn't fair at all! The eighteen month old didn't know what ice cream was. He just wanted to get out of that soggy diaper.

"Hey Chansela! What the hell is your problem?!" Opening the passenger door while I was still driving, Chansela leaned outward as if trying to jump. I slowed the car down right in the middle of traffic.

"You raise 'em!" Chansela jumped out and slammed the door. Without grabbing her children, or looking back, Chansela stormed down the street.

I tried to reach Chansela all that week, but no luck. In my opinion, every parent needed a break. Maybe Chansela was overwhelmed by all of the responsibilities. I did wonder though, if I had been anyone else, would she had left her children like that? It was hard at first adjusting to the new life of motherhood. Waking up at 5:30am and not returning to my comfort zone until midnight. Eric, the eighteen month old, was a handful by himself. But all the children were doing well even though there were some new rules to get used to, like proper hygiene.

Nylona, Shannel, Malinda, Tonia, and Eric all benefited from the new five bedroom home we moved into over the summer. By law I was not the adoptive parent, but with the knowledge and compassion of the local school system, nothing was reported to the state. For the next six months, the six of us lived in warm sweet bliss until Chansela showed up. In court that was. Chansela was captured and charged for prostitution.

Chansela was released and actually cooperated with police to find a non existent kidnapper. When the school heard of Chansela's allegations, they immediately had me arrested and charged with five counts of kidnapping. When I told police how I really got the children, they were unmoved. Then I showed the detectives the before and after photos of the children, they released me, and locked Chansela up on two brand new charges, neglect of minor children and stupidity!

Dick Verses Dyke

2011-01-09T17:57:00.000-05:00

   Frequently running away from home due to the obvious, I had experienced a lot. My first night out, I was robbed at gunpoint for my shoes. The next night I was kicked out of a twenty-four hour gas station for trying to sleep in the back isle. Knowing that my home life was as dangerous as the streets, I just stayed gone. As I sat on the bus stop in my dirty socks, a well dressed Mexican lady walked up offering me twenty dollars. I accepted, then she invited me to lunch. She gave off the impression of those sweet old ladies from church that always had a piece of hard candy in their purse. Once seated at the table of a hole in the wall restaurant, I helped myself to the free rolls inside a small dish on the table.
   "What are you doing out here?" Pleasantly speaking to me as if she really gave a damn, the woman then introduced herself as Maria Tomeza. She had lost her fifteen year old daughter to the streets five years ago.
   "Why don't you come home with me?" I agreed. What could this lady do that was worst than Mama?!

   Once we arrived to the spacious three bedroom home. Maria took me to where my new room was. Though it was plain, basic white walls, beige bedspread and white mini blinds, I was grateful. It was a million times better than the rat hole I used to sleep in. Literally, there were rats crawling over me as I slept. I plunged on to the full size bed, forgetting my worries for the moment. This was the way life should have been for me growing up. Having a mother that chooses to love their child and not shooting up drugs. But then again, if Mama hadn't stayed so high all the time, I wouldn't have had so much freedom. She was a bitch when she was sober!

   Everything about Maria's house was beautiful. Even the water felt like heaven. Stepping out of the walk-in shower, I tied the full body towel over my damp hair. Just then the door swung open.
   "Oh my! I'm so sorry!" Maria slammed the door quickly as she had caught me in the act of masturbating. There was no way I could explain that. Other than the fact that I was a woman and very open to my sexuality. I had seen so much and been through the worst. Masturbation was the least of my worries. Finishing up, I took the towel from my head and wiped my body with it. Walking to my room, I saw Maria washing dishes in the kitchen. I thought I'd put some clothes on first before approaching her.

   "Listen, I'm sorry about that." Trying to make amends with my friend. Maria shook her head in disagreement.
   "No. I'm sorry. I'm not used to someone being here." There was an awkward silence, then we changed the subject. Maria and I sat by the bay window sipping on green tea.
   "I've had very bad experiences with men. I still like men, but they can scare me sometimes." Maria showed empathy by placing her hand on my knee. She shared a story about how she too was raped when she was a little girl.
   "Dick is still good though, no matter what!" I had always claimed team dick, and always would. Maria just laughed at my silliness.

   After dinner that night, Maria hung out with me in my new bedroom. We bonded more by watching music videos and surfing the Internet, which made me oblivious to my surroundings. Maria had knelt on the floor in front of the wooden antique rocking chair, where I sat. Before I knew it her hand was inside of my pink laced panties. The lace was to constricting for her wild fingers. Ripping all of my clothing off, Maria threw my legs over her broad shoulders. She placed two of her thick middle fingers inside of my vagina as far as they would go. Using her thumb to press my "panic button", Maria wrestled with my clitoris, forbidding to stop no matter how slippery her entire hand was. They wrestled as I rocked all the way back to the wall, placing my feet firm on the floor as cum poured over her  hand like icing.

   "That's how it's done." Maria was my new best friend. Even though she showed me how to masturbate the right way, she would never win the debate of team dick! No matter how many times a day she tried.

Please Excuse My Dear Aunt Selma!

2011-01-09T13:51:00.002-05:00

  Selma Davis, formally a Taylor, was the more accomplished of Grandma Terry's litter. She had multiple degrees and currently worked as a Criminal Prosecutor for the state of Utah. Auntie Selma was married to Wayne Davis, a formal Federal Judge. They never had any children together, but Auntie Selma had a relationship with Wayne's four children. Wayne's ex wife was suffering from brain cancer and Auntie Selma accompanied her to doctor appointments. That's a lot of information for a teenager to know, but I spent most of my summers with my Uncle Tyler. He was a true Taylor. Red boned with shoulder length jet black curly hair. Although, Uncle Tyler was shorter than a puberty stricken preteen, every woman wanted to be with him. Aside from his occasional cocaine habit, Uncle Tyler was really a great guy! I'm not just saying that because he indirectly allowed me to get drunk, while he and his friends would bust deeper holes through their noses.

   Uncle Tyler and Auntie Selma weren't that close, but shared a business relationship. Being married to a formal judge, Auntie Selma had connections all over the United States. Whenever Uncle Tyler would get in trouble, he never saw the inside of a jail cell. Usually, he was just warned and released from police custody. In return, Uncle Tyler would snitch to Wayne's formal colleagues about extremely large drug smuggling. There was nothing Uncle Tyler wouldn't tell me when he was high! Auntie Selma was visiting Uncle Tyler for "exchange of information". I had not seen my Auntie in years. The last time she saw me, I was going into of rehab. Alcoholism also runs in my family.

   I told Mama that Auntie Selma was coming for a visit. All she did was fart and began snoring again. I waited for Uncle Tyler to call me once the "business" was taken care of, so that I could see my Aunt Selma. Mama had gone to the store for more cigarettes. I knew she did it on purpose since I told her Uncle Tyler would call at five o'clock. It was four-forty. Sitting by the phone waiting for that call, I began to think about how Auntie Selma came from a family of drug abusers and turned her life into an American dream. She had inspire me to return to school and become some one great. It was going on six o'clock and no phone call. I called Uncle Tyler, but he didn't answer. That was strange. A few minutes later, Uncle Tyler called me to tell me he was arrested for possession. I knew he wouldn't be in long, so I stayed up to wait for his release.

   Mama came in late that night. I sat in the kitchen reading a brochure for a local college. Mama walked by me with a smile on her face. That was a red flag. Whenever Mama smiled, something was wrong!
   "You know your precious Auntie Selma? Well she and Tyler are in jail! Wayne found out her little secret." I gave Mama the meanest side eye look in the world. She set them up! Mama was known to plot the most devious, malicious acts known to man!
   "What did you do this time, you hateful bitch?!" That only fueled Mama's laughter.
   "Nothing. But you can't interfere with an investigation by withholding information. You know I know that!" Mama howled with laughter.
   "I can only imagine the look on Wayne's face when he went to bail her out, and found out Selma's real name is Sam!" Bellowing a hideous scream, Mama slid out of the chair and hit the floor. She was still laughing!

Sweet Spot

2011-01-08T21:27:00.000-05:00

  Travis Pendle  was my first long term boyfriend and love. We had been going strong for two years. Travis had asked me out after a concert in the college's Coliseum. Although, Travis was the partying type, he was the most sincere man I had ever known. Our majors was the ice breaker that ignited our relationship, we both were studying Criminal Justice. Travis' career of choice was working for the Central Intelligence Agency, (C.I.A) and mine was in being a Probation Officer, (P.O). Since I lived on campus, Mama never met Travis and she never would if I could help it. Standing in line for tickets to the Tease Em Ball, Travis wrapped his long muscular arms around me and when he lifted his arms, there was a thin silver chain with a pendant around my neck. I knew at that moment, we were in love.

   The Tease Em Ball, was just that. All the newbies that were hazed when joining sororities and fraternities, were expected to do outrageous stunts to show their loyalty. There was a stage set up by the newbies to perform on. All they had to do was arouse a homosexual that attending Fredricson College. Then a high ranking member of the brotherhood or sisterhood they were pledging for would skip one week of hazing. To the newbies it was worth it! While the fresh meat danced, a few students threw money on the stage. Travis and I enjoyed the show so much, that we agreed to have our own Tease Em Ball later that night. It was hilarious to see women dancing in front of women and men in front of men. One girl took it to the limit when she stripped all of her clothes off. Security had to escort her off stage. It was obvious she was drunk. The guard cursed her out like he was talking to a man. Apparently, this angered her and she tried to hit him. Blocking her punch with his hand, the guard pushed the girl with so much force, she fell off the stage. All we heard was, CRACK! The crowd screamed in horror. Travis pulled me by my arm and we left.

   Once we reached my dorm, Travis held me close. There were no co-ed dorms so Travis couldn't spend the night. Lost in those sweet hazel eyes of his, I submitted to Travis that night behind the administration building. When we finished, my back ached from being pressed up against the brick wall.
   "It's not working out." Travis buckled his belt as I wiped cum from inside my vagina with a Wet Ones.
   "What's not working out?" Throwing the wipe away in the bushes.
   "Us! I can't make you orgasm. Hell, you might as well dance at the Tease Em Ball." Deeply sighing, Travis wiped beads of sweat from his wide forehead.
   "It's only because we do it outside all the time. Let's get a room this weekend and see what happens." Sex with Travis was great, but for some reason I never had an orgasm. The good news was, it wasn't just him. I hadn't had an orgasm since I stopped masturbating years ago.

   Travis had rented a hotel suite with a jacuzzi out on the patio. We drank Chardonnay and listened to Peabo Bryson. The swift cool breeze brushed through my silky weave. Travis danced and romanced me until we reached the king sized bed. It seemed like our clothes melted off with the intense heat of our bodies. There we lay out of breath, both of us covered in Travis's semen. Again he felt like a failure, and yet again, I tried to stroke his ego.
   "It's a new place. We can try again later." Travis sucked his teeth and slowly pulled himself out of me. When the tip of his penis rubbed against my clitoris, the greatest sensation I had ever felt, whipped me like a disobedient whore.
   "So that's your sweet spot." For the rest of the night Travis and I explored every sweet spot we could find.

Are They Supposed To Look Like That?

2011-01-08T15:07:00.000-05:00

   I'm very aware of my body; noticing the smallest changes at a glance. It was the beginning of the new school year and I was just promoted to the tenth grade. Mama had been to rehab and was two months clean. We were shopping with the grant money she had received from enrolling in college. She majored in psychology. Yeah, I know! Anyway, it had been two and a half long months of summer and I couldn't wait to show off my new clothes. Mama brought name brand clothes since she had another agenda. True enough, all the fast food we ate caught up with me. I went form a size five to a size ten! When I looked at myself in the mirror, it made me laugh to see the double chin and chubby cheeks. I even had a butt. Those seniors were going to go crazy when they saw me!

   The night before school would start, I noticed something strange about my breast. They had grown! It may have been due to the vitamin supplements I had been taking. The main ingredient was estrogen. Trying on every bra I had purchased, I felt confident that my breast had finally formed like they were supposed to. But something else caught my eye. There were small blue veins protruding through my flesh. It freaked me out so bad that I ran into the living room where Mama sat chain smoking. Since she quit shooting up, smoking had become another horrible habit. At least heroin didn't stink, in a syringe anyway.
   "Mama, look!" I lifted up my shirt and showed Mama the map like veins in both of my breast.
   "And...So!" Taking quick puffs of two cigarettes at the same time, Mama didn't seem impressed with my breast.
   "You don't see anything wrong Mama?" I was confused as hell.
   "No! Leave me alone!" The psychologist said that Mama would have personality disorders, but damn. These are my breast that were deformed!

   Without any help from Mama, I went to school anxious about my breast. The school nurse's office was inside of the principle's office. I went in and showed her the veins.
   "I've been taking Estrogen pills to increase my breast size. Do you think that's it?" She nodded nonchalantly. I walked out of the office rolling my eyes. Hell, I just diagnosed myself! Weeks passed and the veins were still there. I had stopped taking the Estrogen, but my breast were still big. I decided to talk to an herbal specialist, who told me to drink Parsley Tea. She said that it would help the veins go away, but keep my large breast. I drank the tea morning, noon, and night.

   Around midnight, I felt the most horrible pain in my abdomen. I didn't panic because the herbal specialist told me that would happen. Within three hours, the pain graduated to unbearable. I screamed for Mama, but no answer. Clenching my stomach like an elderly woman's purse on the ten o'clock train in New York, I crawled out of my bed and into the living room.
   "Mama, help me! Some thing's wrong!" Mama just stared at me with a glare in her eyes. A white substance hung from her nose.
   "Oh, Mama!" I tried to stand, grabbing Mama's car keys, I drove myself to the hospital.

   Doctors rushed me into a room. I had told them about the estrogen and parsley tea. They weren't too concerned. All they kept asking me was if I had taking any prescription drugs. I peeked down at my legs because I felt moisture. Blood was everywhere! I panicked. The pain was harder and stronger than ever before.
   "Oh God!" I nearly passed out.

  All of a sudden, the room fell quiet. The pain had suddenly stopped. Through the silence came a squeak. Then another squeak.
   "What is that?" I asked in a whisper. My body was drained. I was drenched in sweat and blood. One of the nurses rubbed my hand gently.
   "Sweetie, that's your baby!"

Treat Them Right

2011-01-07T14:23:00.002-05:00

   We all go through hard times. I remember a lady that lived across the street from us that always needed a ride to the store. Mama would ask the lady for gas money every time.
   "Mama, she ain't got no money." I pleaded in the lady's defense. Mama just rolled her eyes.
   "Then how she going to the store? Sit back and shut-up!" Mama had a mean streak in her so bad, that the devil himself ran when he saw her coming! During the ride, the humble and meek woman gave Mama five dollars for gas.
   "What am I supposed to do with this?" The woman dropped her head in desperation.
   "That's all I have." She dug in her worn out purse scraping for change. I reached in to my pocket and pulled out five dollars I had stolen from Mama earlier that day.
   "Here, is this enough?" Mama snatched the money from both of us.
   "This is your last ride." Sitting on the porch later that day, my heart dropped to the sand when a squealing ambulance had pulled to a screeching halt to the lady's house across the street. Nosy neighbors gathered around to find out what was happening.

   A few days passed when I walked to the corner store. On my way back, I saw my neighbor sitting in an old wooden rocking chair. Slowly, she rocked back and forth. I walked up on the porch and peeked in to the kitchen window where she sat.
   "Hey, Ms. Weston. Are you okay?" When she didn't speak, I leaned in closer.
   "Ms. Weston?" Just as I was about to leave I heard a cracking weary voice.
   "Tell your mama to come see me. I have her gas money." Suddenly, the kitchen window slammed shut in my face! Mama was sitting on the multi-colored sofa chain smoking cigarettes when I returned home.
   "What took you so long to go to the store? Did you get any cash from those food stamps?" It had been two hours since Mama's last fix. Sweat ran down her body like she had just taken a shower. As soon as I had told her what Ms. Weston said, Mama bolted through the hole in our screen door. Running across the street, Mama banged on the metal door. I noticed the kitchen window was open again. Mama went in head first. A few minutes later, police cars swarmed Ms. Weston's two storied home.

   A short full figured woman, that resembled Ms. Weston, yelled and screamed at Mama as she was being placed in a police car. I asked the guy that mowed the grass, when it grew, what had happened.
   "Yo Mama gots to get off them drugs! She tried to rob that lady's house!" He shook his head and started to walk away when I stopped him.
   "But she told me to tell Mama to come and get the gas money she owed her." That man cursed me something terrible.
   "Y'all both must be shooting up. That poor lady died two days ago!"

  The only thing I could think after hearing that, was Karma is a bitch!!!!

My First Time!

2011-01-05T18:45:00.000-05:00

   Videos, magazines, bathroom stall tales before each class that every girl shared about her perfect first time. I envied them. They had received jewelry and clothing from the guys they slept with. I was too scared to make that decision. After all, I was only eleven! All of the girls teased me about losing my virginity. They would have boys meet me in a vacant part of the school, due to construction. I ran away both times. Sadly, having your cherry popped was more important than getting an education. Before graduation to the seventh grade, I met a boy from PE class named Harry Layton. He was Caucasian with shoulder length dark brown hair. Harry never participated in PE because of a health issue. No one but the teacher knew what his issue was. I thought it was because he was so skinny and was afraid of getting hurt.

After being taunted for weeks by our fellow peers about sex, they eventually barricaded Harry and me in one of the girl's bathroom stall. There was a bet that Harry or I would back out first. We stood in the closed stall for twenty minutes just looking at each other. Poor Harry shook like a leaf. His palms were sweaty and his face was pale. Harry's rapid breathing increased by the second. I banged on the door for them to let us out. All I heard was screaming as a few of the students had won the bet. Just then the door opened and a big black girl with a bad perm pulled Harry and me out and threw us on the floor. We both fought as our clothes were being ripped off. Once they tried to put Harry's erect penis inside of me, he froze like a freeze pop and turned blue.

Screaming, I grabbed my clothes and ran out of the bathroom all the way home. That night on the news the story ran about what happened.
   "Today at Veld elementary school, a ten year old boy was found dead in the girl's bathroom. His clothes were removed and it seems he had suffered a heart attack." My mouth dropped open.
   "Witnesses heard loud screaming and cheering from inside the bathroom." Next, the reporter addressed another aspect of the case.
   "Police are now looking for who the eye witnesses, other students, say was behind the entire assault, Ariona Taylor."

Mourning To You !!

2011-01-03T23:01:00.000-05:00

   He was there when I graduated high school, standing in the shadows. He was there when the doctors told me I may have cervical cancer. His name, well I call him, Deces. Strange, I thought, for someone to pay that close attention to me. Deces would show up when I was really sad. Once he stood by as I had taken an entire bottle of sleeping pills. He also stood over me in the hospital. I asked looking in his direction,
   "Who are you?" His lips grew ice across them. I didn't think anything of it at the time. It was just a bad dream from all those sleeping pills I had taken.

   My daddy came over to see me today. I could smell the alcohol on his breath. Giving me a hug for the first time, he placed five dollars in my hand. That was the only thing he had ever given me. Mama cursed him from the kitchen. That pissed me off.
   "He's trying mama!" Shouting from the top of my sore lungs. I had caught a virus from somewhere. Hoarse with snot falling every two seconds, I grabbed my daddy and squeezed him tight. Deces met me in my bedroom after my daddy had left. I told him about how mama talked to daddy.
   "He was trying to make amends. She's so bitter!" Daddy had never done anything for me, but for some reason, I accepted his offer to bond. Deces looked away then back at me. His bald head reflected a life I had not known. There was a little girl wearing a pink dress with a red ribbon tied around the waist. Her long braided pigtails bounced as she danced to groovy tunes softly exploding from an old guitar.
   "Ariona." He said with a toothless grin.
   "Let's go bake some cookies." After that, I saw a woman laying on the floor with a needle in her arm. Her stomach was bigger than as an obese woman, but firm. When the little girl lifted her arm to wipe sweat from her brow, there was movement in the woman's stomach. Again, the little girl moved her arm to wipe sweat. Again, there was movement in the woman's stomach.

   Deces lifted his head and smiled. He held my hand really tight.
   "You are going to be reborn." Those words hit me like a brick wall. I backed away and pulled my blanket over my face. When I pulled it down again, Deces was gone. Nothing could have prepared me for the days ahead. Daddy came by again with a present for me. Wrapped under a wooden crafted Christmas tree, were seventeen gifts for me.
   "One for each year I missed!" Hugging my daddy made me feel like a child again. As I opened my gifts, I noticed that daddy had gone off and sat to himself. His face resembled a veteran of war that had fought his last fight. My last gift was an apology card with a check for seventeen thousand dollars! With a huge grin on my face, I turned to thank my daddy but when I looked for him, Deces had him over his shoulders walking down the driveway. Daddy's shell laid on the porch stiff as a board.
   "You! You're the one that took me away from my daddy! He wanted to be there for me!" Spitting in mama's face, caused me to be slapped to the floor. Nothing hurt as much as
being lied to. Hatred filled my heart like a bag of stones! I watched as mama went to the table and loaded her needle with her fix. She showed no regard for my well being. Turning away, I picked up a few of my gifts and took them in my bedroom. Out of the side of my eye, I saw Deces standing right beside mama. She was so high, she paid him no attention. He gently touched her on the shoulder and soon after, mama had a stroke. Deces walked toward me as I backed away.
   "You are going to be reborn."

   Two years had passed since the death of my daddy. I had since enrolled in to college and was dating the love of my life. Mama was living with me as I was the one caring for her.
   "You hungry mama?" She nodded softly as I lifted the spoonful of mashed potatoes to her twisted mouth.
   "Is that good?" She nodded again. Mama could no longer speak. She could barely even move without help. A nurse watched over her as I attended class. For hours the nurse would tell me how sweet mama was. If only she had known.


   With finals coming up, I began to get really nervous. My appetite faded and migraines plagued me almost everyday. My boyfriend, a pre-med student, suggested that I go to the emergency room. As I waited for the results of a urine, blood, and pelvic culture, the urge to vomit bombarded me. Vomit involuntarily poured from my mouth just as the doctor walked in.
   "Congratulations, you're pregnant!" It took awhile to gather my thoughts. Before leaving the hospital, I saw Deces standing by another patient's door. Members of the hospital staff walked through him as if he weren't there. Deces turned his head from me.
   "See you soon." Then he walked inside of the room, where the mourning began.