A new path

Lately i have been feeling lost. My connection to looking beyond is slipping. I cant seem to find the silver lining. I know my destination, but the path isn’t outlined so i cant follow a pattern.
I am creating my own pattern but its hard. I dont have a clear idea how to get “there”, but i do know i want to be “there”.
I know i should take a bus, however, which bus isnt specified and where to get on or off isnt in the handbook. All i want is for that cloud to be removed, that horizon to not be pushed back further. All i want, is a new thought/idea/beginning. Maybe then i can move forward, pushing through barriers, paving a path for others to follow.
I read about these people who followed their dream, the idea sparked in them. I listen to videos that encourage you to follow your own path and blaze a trail, but i don’t quite seem to grasp exactly how they did it. I mean, someone did see the value in giving ‘the rock’ a chance to become a wrestler, even though his dad was a part of it. I am not giving up on knocking doors, just not sure how many more doors to knock on.
I shall continue my search, in the mean time, please help me to stay focus. Thank you for reading. 


A free excerpt 

Here she was, blindfolded, kneeling in the middle of the room. She felt strong, firm hands on her shoulders and heard her master’s voice from a short distance away saying to her, “Remember our safe word Angel. Use it when you need”.

She nodded in understanding and awaited instructions. For some reason her master was the one giving them while someone else ‘handled’ her.

” Stand “, she heard him say and she obeyed.

” Spread your legs”, and she obliged yet the firm hand never hurt her in anyway.  

She was not always subjected to spankings but the stranger opted to using his hand on her buttocks.

Angel knew her master’s touch. She knew how her body responded to what he offered. This stranger incited a different feeling. The first lash brought flesh upon flesh, but she felt him soothe her for a brief moment. With every stroke he lingered on her ass. Calming her, soothing her, comforting her. She felt it from the first minute. Her body wriggled. Not to be freed, in blatant abandon. She was scared to show too much emotion, hoping her master wasn’ too aware. But she knew. She knew he kept a watchful eye. She knew he saw how her body twisted. She knew, yet she secretly hoped he was not aware of what the stranger was doing.

Angel wanted to take her hands and place them between her leg. She needed a release so imminently. The stranger knew, which meant her master also knew, but she could not solace herself. Her master asked, “Are you ready Angel?”

“Yes master”.

She felt the nod of approval more than saw. The stranger’s hand caressed her body, giving new meaning to the word. She was lost and knew it. She never wanted another hand on her from today and that was an impossiblity.

You, Me, and Social Media 

Putting pics on social media can be intimidating. It can be scary for some of us. 

We would find the pic nice and worth sharing but the vicious comments received previously, or even the none likes can stop one from sharing with friends and in extension the world.
Stop it. Share yourself with others. Share! Do not let people/others dictate what you do. You are your own person.
Its hard for thick women to post without thinking about others but don’t. When posting your do it for yourself. Do it because you want to. Do it to bring accomplishment for yourself and not for likes. Do it because you like the pic and believe others would benefit from your pic.


My love for the thick girl

Here is an excerpt of my new eBook ‘My big fat book of poems’ #comingsoon on Amazon Kindle only. Trust me the rest is epic. Stick around for more or find me on Instagram for a better insight.

My love for the thick girl

Something about a waistline that has a handle

Makes me want to hold it

Console it

Don’t let it go.

Its like my weakness, the thickness of a waist.

Or the thighs that are thick,

Makes me salivate

I want to isolate………….them.

Caress their firmness.

But the way the body jiggles

With each walk, it wobbles,

Not like a chair,

But more like a fair…………….maiden.

Who is learning to walk with grace

At her own pace,

On new shoes……………….in the palace.

When I see her luscious breast

Just protruding from her chest………….I

I want to rest……………..my head

Just for a while……………

………….to be continued

Thick girl truths

After having read the title I know what you’re thinking; This subject should probably be placed or published later in the year, not at this time when the majority of women are working out for the carnival season. Not at this time when people are looking to get slimmer for the seasonal activities. Honestly guys, being a thick girl is extremely hard. Walking around with lumps and touching thighs will never be a choice or something for others to aspire to.

Who gets up and says, “My goal today is to add a few pounds and be lumpy”? No one looks forward to facing the scale and seeing, ‘YOU… ARE… OVERWEIGHT!’, and go “Yes!!” Society does not help in any way. Magazine covers still exhibit the sexy slim woman or the buff guy with a 6 pack.

I was a part of a group/page/following/life-style that celebrated the woman with curves. They focused on sharing uplifting sentiments to real women, those who are actually working behind a desk, or on the roads, who are not all slim and without cellulite. They were not without flabby under-skin, or thighs that proffer a “peep-through hole” even when closed.

There was this one time that I felt very uncomfortable and I smiled and joked about it, but I sat in silence for the rest of the trip home. My uncle, who works in the cosmetic industry in the USA, was explaining to myself, brother and a young lady, the most sought out surgery he has experienced. He asked the younger and very slimmer lady who accompanied us on our outing, to stand with her feet together. He then continued that the little hole in the centre is what many women would love to get done via surgery. It did not affect my emotions until he asked me to stand and my brother said, “You will never get that hole” and proceeded to laugh.

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No more of you, just me.

As Sidney stretched to answer her cellphone that was resting on the night-stand, she took a quick peek at the legs that was nestled next to hers on the bed. With a smile she fondly remembers forty-five minutes before when they were intimate. Ah yes, his skin still glisteed with his perspiration. His shallow breathing confirmed that he was still asleep, but his hand draped across her gave reassurance that he liked the warmth of her body on his.

With a sigh, she dreaded his waking up. This is the part she disliked. His work where he left the island for days. The fact that David is a Computer Engineer and his job takes him all over the world did not help the sinking feeling she got when he boarded a plane. Sometimes it’s for a day or two. Other times he goes for a week maybe even more. The last time he was away for a month and she was sick with grief. Wondering what he was up to and where he was sleeping. These fears will leave as soon as she heard his voice on the other end of the phone, only to re-enter with the sound of the click signaling the end of their conversation. Throughout their relationship it was always filled with love and respect for each other’s privacy. David still kept his apartment close to the town but she preferred the country life.

While he was away she will be pining, awaiting his arrival. She fondly remembered her first glance at him. While he was jogging in his gray suit and she was just strolling with blanka her dog. A split second blanka got away and started to run after him, nipping at the heel of his sneakers. She sped after her dog and as she got closer, he tripped and stumbled into her arms. He was a bit flustered but with a reassuring smile, he accepted her apology and decided to join her for coffee. Since then things have been great. After five years she still dreaded his leaving her. Even though Sidney is his senior she likes his take charge attitude and the fact that whenever he was in town he warmed her bed. No talk of marriage had ever entered their mind except a couple years ago when there was trouble in paradise. Oh well, and with a sigh she answered her phone………….


“Let’s do lunch”, he says. “We’ll chat and get to know each other”. So how did I end up on a hard, red, commercial carpet, on my knees, a fistful of my hair in his hand, and cum on my face?

 Lunch was fantastic. A continuance of the late night messages. Knowingly sharing secret smiles/jokes. When he said “wider” with the smile, I knew things had changed. My need to obey took control and I opened to him. 

My breath caught in my throat, my heart stopped beating, the noise around us subsided. We entered out bubble with ease.

The bubble was created just for us. I knew when it existed and when it stopped. I knew when we entered the confined space what was expected. 

I knew that the space was devoid of other human life. Entering meant alone-time. Walking into the bubble suggested that time stood still, froze for us to enjoy each stolen second. 

His hand touched my knee and the air became humid.

We all yearn to create a time capsule where we can place moments to relive. A time that seemed precious. This was my time-capsule moment…………..to be continued