the things you find on these sex sites.
one of my faithful f-bi sent me this…
…and let’s just say i’m sure someone reading may hit this add up.

Continue reading “Who Wants To Get Gang Banged By 3 Wolves Tonight?” →

i couldn’t sleep.

it didn’t help that i read the 40+ comments to that last entry as they came in.
the whole night i thought about the rapper.
i thought about things he told me and things he spoke about.
i thought his life, his decisions, and his outcome.
as big as his list is,
his life isn’t where he needs it to be.
he is still trying to be taking seriously as a rapper.
he never had a serious job in his life.
how he makes money is a mystery.
he got frustrated over something trivial.
not to mention, he came in and dropped his coat on the floor.
no apartment or car.
i felt like i was in high school again.
after school.
he was the “pre baller wolf that came over to get tutored“.
i was the “geek who sat in the front of the class“.
he seems to just be going through life without a solid plan.
he is not a “man”.
my “man”.
he has actually dated a couple foxes in the past.
hell, i watched him fuck one’s brains out raw like it was a top rated myvidster flick.

“oh daddy! oh shit nigga! i love this dick!”
“________________” – no reply from him.

his pipe did the replying and judging from how he fucked him,
it loved him….

hard.

(lowkey: his ex is FINE as hell.
caramel, nice body, and looks like something being reblogged on tumblr.
hell, he could be on tumblr….)

but, i had to wonder what “dated” meant to him exactly?
was it someone he was having consistent sex with?
someone with a fat ass that was “his“?
did they even have a conversation?
one thing he told me yesterday:

“jamari, i like you because you listen to me.”

is this new to him?
in a world where sex is easy,
people cum and go,
and you are only as good as your last fuck i started to wonder…

Are we just a “number“?

Continue reading “Beep Me “69” or Call Me On My Cell Phone…” →

“let me see all the people you messed with.”
“i can’t boo…”
“why not?”
“there is too much.”
“what is too much?”

silence.

that was the rapper wolf-hybrid.
i mentioned in my other entry a couple days ago that i met for lunch.
well, he was at my crib today.
he wanted to come over because he needed to get away.
plus, he wanted to let me hear a single he has been working on.
give him some tips on what he should do as far as his image.

low key: i still got myself “prepared” before he came over.
just in case.

i may have let him knock the dust off.
i know.
it’s been a long time and the way we been flirt texting….

Continue reading “The 499 Booty Calls Of A Wolf-Hybrid Rapper… But Jamari Fox Ain’t 1.” →

you like to fuck me, don’t you?

i know.
i like to fuck you too.
we fuck really good.
our sexual chemistry is… influential.
remember when we fucked in front of your best friend?
he said he was about to join us.
lol.
no wait…wait… remember the first time we ever fucked?
you thought it would be cute to decorate the bedroom with candles.
it made me smile.
obviously you didn’t know we were going to… fuck.
that “raw passionate nasty” type of fucking.
i hate you fucking.
make up sex fucking.
i miss you fucking.
just got out of jail fucking.
“i waited a long time for this” fucking.
fucking has no romance.
there are no candles or roses on the bed.
anita baker or teddy pendergrass.
it’s an explosion of lust.
and you lusted me… hard.
on the floor.
like an animal.
making me beg.
making me cry.
i felt like your nasty bitch.
i actually loved it.
i wanted you to stop.
you didn’t.
you alley ooped all in my shit.
did the dougie in my booty.
you took it and owned it.
i had no choice.
i didn’t care.
it was good.
it was amazing.
it was dynamic.
i could still smell you on me the next day.
but… we have to stop this.
it isn’t healthy.
i can’t keep doing this.
it isn’t going anywhere.
you just want my ass.
the lock to the garden of ecstasy.
i just want your dick.
the only thing that tames me.
i become your slave.
you like that.
i hate that.
your dick has this control over me.
shit i’m horny now.
let’s fuck and get it over with.
end it once and for all.

ya know what?
i’ll let marsha ambrosius sing it for you in her new song…

Continue reading “Let’s Just Fuck And Get It Over With” →

I HAVE STOPPED JACKING OFF…

i know.
WHAT?
i’m serious.
yup, you read right.
jamari fox hasn’t choked his chicken, manhandled his meat, or dribbled his basketballs in 2 days.
an accomplishment if i do say so myself.
i’m trying something new.
something that has me feeling like a hungry werewolf locked up in a cage.
i have this new found energy that has me on a total high.

in this lifestyle,
we are either gigantic hoes or big time meat beaters.
some of us don’t want to have 20 dicks in and out of us,
so we wake up and look at about 20 dicks going in and out of someone else.
but if too much sex with random strangers is bad for us,
is too much jacking off worst?
some of us get caught up in fucking ourselves,
that we dismiss trying to get fucked/fuck someone else.
do we become addicted to that safe feeling that we forget to get someone to touch us?
i started to wonder…

Are you fucking yourself by fucking yourself?

Continue reading “Name: The Fox Who Has Cum To Quit Touching His Pipe” →

practice makes perfect.
i always imagined that beyonce practiced every day before she became “beyonce”.
i still think she practices to be the greatest.
i read that her father would wake them (destiny’s child) at like 5 in the morning to practice.
to the point he would have them jogging in heels while singing.

beyonce takes her craft seriously,
which is why she is a mega star.
i always wondered why kelly wasn’t so great?
even letoya?
hell, the no named red-head?

not all of us are “beyonce“.
there are a ton of “kellys“,
the other two,
and that one vixen that was kicked out for smiling wrong.

that being said,
you always want to be the best.
even to be great at something,
you need to practice and create your own style.
you don’t want people to say:

“oh yeah he reminds me of…”

nah.
you need your own greatness.
but, does the same apply to relationships?
even, sex?
the amount of times we fuck/suck a hard dick (or cakes),
does it make us a master of a good fuck?
are you memorable?
do you put on a good performance?
do they cry because it is so good?
do people get sad when you leave the stage aka the bed?
i had to ask…

Is your sex game multi-platinum and legendary?

Continue reading “I Want To Be The Beyonce Of Your Multi-Platinum Nut Bustin’ Satisfaction” →