No Strings... Other Than G~Strings....

I'm drunk I'm fulla that shit... Trying to go home and get fulla that dick... Dumb dick... Because we are both just that... Naw, we aren't dumb... we're human... Two very sexually frustrated, inebriated attractive humans... We have "stirrings" that our human nature thrives on acting out... We just want to fuck...

Return to my humble abode... clothes damp and crumbled from a long night of constant grinding with inconsistent partners...wee hours of the morning in which the world is blanketed with either sleep or sex... I shall sleep when I die... I choose door number two… "I feel sexy" *text sent* ...

Thoughts of you as the searing water of the shower concurrently cleanses my skin and embeds soft beads of lavender and vanilla bean to offer my pores "essence"... my thoughts do not automatically pick out wedding colors and fine china... I know your last name (from facebook) but I do not imagine how that sounds preceding "Viola"... No such ideations… you’re new... I love new... But I don't have plans of loving new... It’s not impossible.... Just not that important....

I giggle as I think about those deep dimples you possess… the plush purple towel that I use to dry my skin  defeats its purpose as my yoni instantly gets wet at the memory of the way those magnificent massive dreads sit atop a face of the most exotic caramel that my eyes have ever witnessed… painting on Oh baby lipglass to moisten my lips as I contemplate if I should suck those huge ass lips of yours or just  kiss them sensually… and then suck them… maybe suck then kiss… damn you were so cute tonight walking through the club as if you know that every bitch in there was checking for you… I wonder if you have a big dick… thoughts broken as you knock….

A few moments for each of us to adjust to the change of scenery that affects how we have perceived each other up until this point… you notice my hidden tats that are now completely visible compliments of my too extra small boyshorts and Under Amour sports bra… I notice that your teeth are perfect, your eyelashes are so long and your hands are so soft… slight, previously unnoticed attributes are detected  and smiled upon… small talk is made and I now know your age, relationship status and favorite food… I try to learn more… but your hands are so soft…. There is a bed in the back with little golden packages sprinkled across the headboard… we are only human….

300 minutes of “foreplay” and I find out my answer to that dick question… you have something to brag about… yet, I am happy that you didn’t… I love surprises… excitement gushing through my veins as my pussy gushes to the feel of the tip of your tongue… you’re a hungry man… surprise number two… your good… I shake my head as my legs shake at the realization that I have a show off on my hands… well ,on my pussy … I continue to cum as your head reappears and your dick becomes your tongues pinch hitter… tearing my pussy walls up as I paint that exotic caramel skin with soft scratches, light bites and forbidden marks bursting with passion … fucks me into a fantasy… not a pretend future of nuptials, kids and small picket fences… too complicated… sex is simple… my fantasy is simple… we are both grown… we are only human… I don’t need to be a Mrs. to have this moment of bliss… face down, knees to the ground, bent over, bust it open and got fucked like I was ugly…

~Viola Monroe

Published with Blogger-droid v1.7.4

Rockstar Memoirs... Shit Dreams Are Made Of....

What's good homie, I missed you lover, so fucking happy to see you friend... It’s been a while... That bitch absence promised my heart the solace of fondness... She lied... I've been lost... Gone astray in memories of you...

Our first encounter... Those fucking social networks... fell in love with your words before I saw your face... Fell in love with your face before I heard you speak... Fell in love with your voice as you seductively spoke my name... Fell in love with your dick that pounded my pussy as we indulged in first date sex... You remember?

A smile covers my face at the recollection of the next several weeks... New love is a beautiful thing... Our worlds so different that we chose to create our own utopia... outsiders were not were not necessary nor were they welcomed into our self-made paradise... Days and nights passed unnoticed for time would only limit us and our domain possessed no boundaries... weeks of learning middle names, favorite colors, future goals and lifelong dreams... Weeks filled with laughter, a few stray tears and the passion of a European orgy... Weeks of fucking like thoroughbreds in heat, ravishing each other’s body and soaking in the juices that overflows from the fountains of novel adoration... we talked more than we slept... We kissed more than we talked... We fucked more than we breathe....Memories…

Weeks quickly become months... All good things must come to an end... But we were never good... We have always been great... Our demise is wished upon by pitiful men and jealous bitches that envy what we share... the more we love the more the inevitable draws near until we have no choice in the matter... Months of smothering in the aura of love, good weed and mind blowing sex forces us to come up for breathe ... Outsiders break our barrier and invade our euros... Life must be lived and our lives are so different... You do you and I do me... In the meantime, we always find a way to do each other... Clouding each other’s thoughts and flooding each other’s subconscious... You disappear... I find you... I disappear... You find me and fuck an apology out me... Months of you teaching me, lovingly teasing me, constantly defending me, sexually taunting me... Remember?...

I am amazed to this day how we so easily traveled from months to years... Time never being of the essence for it feels as if we have known each other forever... it is certain we shall love each other for eternity... our love has been no fairytale... Trials and tribulations sprinkled into our liaison... Drama spicing up life and interrupting our perfection... love conquers all.... We prevailed... I am your Wonder woman and you are my Super Man... we are an undefeatable duo... days become weeks that turn into months that have brought us to years ... It feels like only yesterday you washed my back in the shower as I rambled on about our future fame... memories still vivid about late, wasted club nights in which my drunken stupor ended with me at your front door, instantly naked in your room and riding your dick as if it were a million dollar mechanical bull... I can hear that funny way you laugh on the night we filled our lungs with so much wonderful purple that I sucked your dick in the clouds and lay across a bed of stars as I watched my love loving me... I remember… tell me you do to…

Homie, lover, friend… Days… weeks… months… years… dreams created… aspirations shared… love made… mother time is of no quintessence… days of laughter…weeks of touches… months of kisses … years of fucking… I fucking love you… remember that!

~Viola Monroe

Published with Blogger-droid v1.7.4

VIII-XII

The day that ALF is born (the cat eater)… 224th day of the year (225 in a
leap)

… Cleopatra commits suicide with the help of a bug… First breath of his Wonder Woman…  Night of the murdered poets… Night of the best, most orgasmic, tantalizing, and fucking fantastic sexual experience of her life… night of the fucked poet… the irony….

He has dedicated this day to her… in her world he has somehow dedicated a small portion of each day to her… today, however, was HER day… the day that the Earth was blessed with her presence so that fate could bless him with her so that he can dedicate a small portion of each day to her… he could have been anywhere in the world… but he chose to be there with her… on HER day…

She is a free, wild, fiery sensation of a woman… today belonged to her and warranted no inhibitions… Her spirit was released into the open… unleashed… 24 hours to eat as many red vines and Twix ice cream that her palate desired … glasses of flavorful fluids flowing as she inebriates her world and everyone that is in it, on HER day… her purple eyes clouded by the purple cloud that swathes her like a shield from the bullshit… 24 hours to dance like she’s beautiful and fuck like she was ugly….

A sight to behold… the concoction of life that these two create… on HER day… he is under no circumstances contained… his aura bouncing around the world in Cheap Mondays and snapbacks… a hint of superfluous mischievousness as he they lock eyes and start her day…

Every space they move in is overpowered by these two whimsical creatures… so they will be still, or as still as this duo could be… each feeding off the others energy as the flavorful fluids flow and her purple eyes lock into his with the inebriation from that special purple cloud that has painted the foundation for HER day… easy conversation, light flirting, too much laughter and the touches of new lovers… they are still… a feat for this pair… more touches… heavier flirting….

The stars kiss the sky as her tongue tastes his skittles and the Belvedere that danced with his spearmint Orbit… She has wanted to taste that tongue since she begin her day, waking with drifting images of the powers of that delicious tongue… He is devoured… he doesn’t resist for he knows, and loves, this aggressive, animalistic greedy sector of her soul…

HER day has now transitioned into HER night…He bites his tongue as he refuses to give his comrade the satisfaction of knowing that she is his Kryptonite and he is slowly weakened with each passionate suckle of his bottom lip… his heart longing for more as she works her way down with soft nipples, long licks and  tiny suckles of passion that leave a trail to his dick… it has been declared HER day… yet, nothing appeases her more than pleasing him… she is not fooled by that Poker face he barely maintains and knows that he loves the way she slowly teases the tip of his dick with her tongue… she is clever and is more than aware of the slight tingle that runs through to his toes as she uses every muscle in her jaw to delight every sense in his dick… he will go mad if she continues… so much energy, the two creating the sparks of a Shuriken against Iron Man… “FUCK ME” she screams in a raspy whisper… it is HER day… he decided….

Face down ass up… ass down face up…. It is HER day and he refuses to make her work, too much…. She asked to be fucked… she wants to be fucked… it is HER day… she DESERVES to be fucked… He has mated with her soul and would give her anything she asked for, especially on HER day… he holds her head down as he rams his dick so deep in her that her screams betray her and flavor the night with “My fucking goodness” “Damn daddie” “I love you… I love that dick!”… she wanted to be fucked…. He will forever grant her every wish… he flips her over with the love of an aficionado and her shouts on momentarily subdued… as she stares…

She is in a frenzy at the of the sight of the man that was conquering every sensation in her pussy… subconsciously her nails dig into his wings for he must be an angel sent to her in honor of HER day… biting on masterpieces as she attempts to muffle the obscenity of a sailor… what a potion these two brew … their bodies vibing as if they possessed the same heartbeat, uniform thought patterns, an  equivalent hunger that had her tearing at his skin like a starved vampire as he thrust every inch of his dick in her pussy as if the two would never be fortunate to meet again…

Love is conceived, declared and agreed upon through bites, scratches, backshots, shrill screams, lustful whispers, songs of a pussy that is so wet it has no choice but sing… He has came and conquered… she has came and came and came…. HER day…. The day ALF, the cat eater, was born… The day her purple eyes complimented her purple cloud as he beat her pussy up… until she cried “That’s enough!”

~Viola Monroe

LOVE...in 3D....

“Him”… “Him” is the strongest, the one that’s existed the longest… that which has always been past, present and future… when “him” is mentioned anyone that I have allowed into my small circle of life knows exactly who is being spoken of… the “him” that my realm knows because he has always been the center of my world, ruler of my universe…“Him” and I… existing as a unit for over half of each of our lives… best times and worst times…  “Him” was there when I was the pimple-faced, size 14 crown queen… “Him” was there to hold my hand through tough times, wipe my tears through harder times and praise me at each accomplishment…. The man that took my virginity, taught me to drive, paint my first marks of passion on the inside of my thighs, the first man to watch OUR child being born as he feverishly ran around the operating room trying to capture every moment of the emergence of our goddess. “Him” will always be my first love… but (there is always a “but”)…

My heart is immense and I have been blessed with the ability to love like a madwoman… “He” precipitously “happened” and my love leaped into new depths of my soul… it was not that the love reciprocated by “him” could not suffice… “He” was never planned… not once did the stars predict that “he” would conquer my soul and teach me that love was multi-dimensional… the gift and the curse… one heart bound to two men that God created with ambiances unlike any other… very different adoration emitting from the same heart… 

I have not shared any milestones over half a century with “he”… “he” does not know the me that I used to be and was not there to kiss me each day as I closed my locker door like “him” did… yet, “he” has caused fireworks within my body that no creature on this earth has ever been able to generate… “he” has made me feel alive in every sense of the word… “he” has listened to each goal, dream and aspiration with no hint of judgment or doubt… “he” has brought smiles to my face in the darkest of moments and has whispered words of hope and encouragement when defeat feels so near… “he” has brought adventure and passion to my life while “him” has offered stability and longevity…

“He” kisses me maddeningly, swallowing my bottom lip whole as my pussy drips to the rhythm of his tongue… “him” takes my lips and my body as a lover that is at great peace with his partner for he knows every mole, scar and erotic spot on my body… “he” fucks me with a craving that makes my yoni yearn for more, always harder, doing whatever it is that I ask in my weakened moments of lustful pleas, always harder, “he” consistently conquers my pussy and leaves me longing for more, and more, and more…

 “Him” offers a love making so sweet that the nectar of the honeybee is jealous… “him” never “fucks me harder” for there is no bone in his body that wishes to make me endure any form of pain, even if requested by my own lips, the lips that “he” devours so infuriatingly … “him” is my protector and plays his role even as his dick slowly finds its way into the moist, warm crevice of my vagina that knows “him” so well, loving even my pussy as if his only goal in life is to safeguard it…

Polyamory… to love two at once… gifted with a heart that propagates and cultivates… a soul that has no limits and is not bound by the communal law that love is unable to be apportioned… “him” is my love, always and forever… “He” is who I am in love with… completely and unconditionally… two men… one me… loving each equally but differently because each loves me… inversely…  triangular, yet equilateral, love… “him” no more than “he”… “he” not an iota more than “him”… love… in 3D

~Viola Monroe

Purple Juice...

I stare at him… entranced.... enchanted by this creature before me and the world that he has created… a euros within standard civilization that is unable to fully comprehend his majesty, his intellect, his persona that defies every societal rule…

He does not know how much I respect him… he may never know that even more importantly, I understand him… discernment of his wonderment being impossible for all others…  I have watched this madman, evil genius, beautiful mind of a man and I love him because I know him… a rare oddity in his world….

Running shit swathed in the color of royalty, checkered leathers of Louie V and a kaleidoscope of fantasies forever engraved into the preponderance of his skin… the snakes that climbed on medusa’s head seeming tame to the beautifully wild mane that crowns this king… eyes that tell a hidden story should he ever choose to reveal them long enough for one to discern his aura of mystery…. he has tried… everyone has failed… yet I have seen those eyes… studied those eyes… I understand him…

Overlooked and underestimated his genius is lowballed… his way of life discounted by the simple-minded… I do not see him as others… I understand him… not because I love him…  I have come to believe that anyone that has encountered his presence is drawn to love him… I know him because I have seen those eyes… the mirror has boasted that same glaze with a twinkle in the left pupil… eyes of greatness… we have walked the same path… the same road traveled, me with my size 7 BCBG pumps while he strides in his 10 ½ Jordan XI…

He smiles more than most… his world a mosh pit of jubilee, fantasy, the finest of purples wrapped in grape leaves, several bad bitches and anything else that can suffice as materialized bliss… an oddball born on the most even of days (JUICE!)…he smiles despite the fact that he is too fucking busy…and too busy fucking ;)…  I constantly smile for he is infectious… I analyze his movements with great scrutiny … his brilliance is never ending and every aspect of he is just as imperative as the other… I know beyond his smile….

He has dreams, goals, aspirations dissimilar to that of the lackluster existences that surround him… stresses and worries that the weak would crumble under… intellect that puzzles the median and pisses off even the smartest of smart asses… magnificently multifaceted… he is a hundred men wrapped in one body... his reputation flawed by common culture for the path that he must take for survival has been labeled illicit and proscribed … he is placid to this reality for he is great… created by our maker with the clays of prominence and brought to life with the breath of eminence….

My trance breaks only to transcribe his story… attempting to capture the essence of my Kage ninja… telling his tale to the world as he unsuspectingly clarifies the secret to happiness… I learn as the buzz of his Samaria sword lulls me into his medulla… watching as he creates fantasies, dumb ambitions, new love, lost love, new ambitions overpowering lost loves with the dark shades of shadows to hide the pain… life imported from his fingertips… lost in his world as he feverishly inscribes life… the two portals to his soul intent on seeing his vision… head bowed as he is spellbound by his own brilliance… the most complex of men with the most pretentious of dreams…. He just wants to tattoo…

~Viola Monroe

Published with Blogger-droid v1.7.4

You... Daddie...

15 minutes... 14 years....13000 memories....it has been awhile... my eyes are unyielding... They have the superb ability to discount your handwriting that is so pretty that it could be kanji calligraphy... They never fight to resist you for their only struggle is to simply snub you... Unopened documents of infidelity, sorrow, soul searching, confessions... love tainted with ignorant hate...  my hands accomplice to my eyes... Ordered to avoid that tingle to separate the sealant to my fate... Forbidden to open a Pandora’s box of sentiment…
It has been years since I have felt the heat of your chest… the constant rising and falling that lured me into a slumbered fantasy of what we could be, what we should be… 2 years… 3 months and 4 days since you excavated my pussy with the force that is only acceptable amongst lovers that understand the pleasure of shared pain… months since I have kissed those massive lips that spit poisonous lies and hollow possibilities… weeks since I looked into your caramel colored eyes that twinkle in the sun and possess such power over me that I am forced to look down at my size 5 ½ Jordan Retros to avoid your kryptonite…
Correspondences locked as my hands are accomplice to my eyes… my hands, decreed to contravene any contraband that boasts your handwriting… your kanji calligraphy that articulates your mistakes, your feigned remorse, your declarations of guilt… quivering, my hands resist the urge to betray my eyes for my heart has already befallen into the role of the collaborator…
My heart, the traitor, has sided with you since day one… 14 years ago you walked up to me, smiled that grin that glorifies that deep right dimple and seized the vessel that allows me to live… smartest of battle moves, for now it is you that breathes life into me… my struggle now rests in salvaging my heart, repossessing my life and forgetting the preceding proprietor… 
My mind willing my hands to leave the box unopened, piling up with “what ifs” “I should haves” “next time I wills”… empty promises and loaded revelations scribbled in kanji calligraphy… my hands forcing my eyes shut should they weaken at the inscriptions on the yellow lined sheets… all body parts functioning together as a fierce entity whose only goal is to win back my heart… My ears… sneaky little foxes always hiding behind piles of hair… the fucking most unsuspected suspect deceives me…
 My ears… openly accepting your voice… creeping into my veins… overpowering every organ in my body until my pulse beats to the sensual whispers of that voice…tantalizing my senses and reuniting my shell of a body with my heart… how I have you missed you so… my heart… how I have missed you…my ears, your voice, my heart… “Wassup Ma”…
~Viola Monroe