G-Spot Chronicles, The Book

2011-01-28T08:05:00.001-05:00

G-Spot Chronicles
Written by Ocean Koné AKA M. L. Lewis
©2003 Marsha Lewis
PENNAME: FACESITTER

Word Count: 67,128
All Rights Reserved.

Printed in the United States of America. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, or otherwise without the prior written permission of the writer and publisher, except in the case of a brief quotations embodied in reviews or articles concerning said novel. For information, please contact Marsha Lewis at: marshallewis@yahoo.com.

CHAPTER 1: LOVE, GHETTO STYLE

2011-01-28T08:00:00.000-05:00

Story One
Love, Ghetto Style

It was a warm, breezy Saturday afternoon in the heart of Bed-Sty Brooklyn, and Raymond was pissed. A tall 30-something year-old, almond-colored brother with big, sexy eyes and business aspirations, Raymond was recovering badly from a broken heart. He stood at the kitchen window, watching cars speed by. He was looking out for Cassandra: a stocky but sexy chinky-eyed, exotic looking 28-year-old vixen from the Bronx. It didn’t help that beauty was on her side. She had long black hair and deep brown-black eyes, like wells. Despite her stunning looks, now that she had an “ex” classification, she was on her way over to pick up the last of her things.

Once again, he thought to himself, he was not the one to screw things up.

Raymond was always known as a smart guy, who never had to be lonely, and never actually was. Plenty of women he encountered on a daily basis, to and from his job at Mills Contracting, could fill the void that breaking it off with Cassandra would create. Hell, he would even try here and there, to use his stunning looks and status to get carnal knowledge of a few of his coworkers, but Cassandra’s cookies reigned supreme. He could never let that woman go, but today was the day.

He was a dude with a PhD in contracting, and wits like a steal trap. Raymond had suave; his style was naturally debonair. Women wanted more after a few romps of fun, but his body and mind as an exclusive package, belonged to Cassandra. The papers on Cassandra were missing in action, and Raymond was whipped worse than a runaway slave. Raymond was so blind with adoration and desire for her, once he did see the signs of a cheater; he was powerless against his need for her, turning a blind eye. He only wanted Cassandra: a hellcat, Queen Of All Brooklyn Bitches.

Raymond had been entangled with Cassandra for two years. In his mind, they had the best, and the worst of times. As a contractor, he was constantly distracted by their relationship while at work. Cassandra loved staying out all night, partying or whatever, coming home in the wee hours of the morning. Since she worked as a stylist for celebrities, her schedule was flexible; she could sleep all day, and party all night. Raymond had started many a day, bumping into her at the door as he headed out to work, and as she ended her all-night fun. Getting an explanation from her was like pulling teeth.

Cassandra and Raymond broke up this time, because Raymond walked into the G-Spot Club, and found her with a dude gyrating and kissing like they were trying to make a baby. He knew that eventually he would get sick of her lifestyle, but that was the last straw. At that moment, as much as it hurt, he decided that it was over. What he wanted was a woman who respected their relationship enough, to know when it was time to come home. Cassandra was too busy having fun, to even think about Raymond’s feelings.

Raymond’s friend Kareem had heard the reoccurring sad story over the phone while inviting him out for some lay-ups, and decided to come over, bringing his play station. He knew a game of football would take the sting off. To Kareem, it was clear that Raymond had been severely pussy-whipped.

It’s not like this hadn’t happened before. The wires were loose from Kareem unplugging his play station repeatedly. Raymond’s attempts to throw fine ass Cassandra out at least three times before, were foiled by her excellent sex and professional head. The moment she came in the door, she’d start batting her eyes at Raymond, sashaying around the house, licking her lips and propositioning him for sex. “You gon’ say no to all of this?” she would ask, opening her blouse to show him her breasts. Cassandra seduced him repeatedly, which caused an invisible force field to grow around the keys, whenever he had the chance to pick them out of her pocket as she slept, or showered. Raymond had the classification of “fool” with most people who knew him, for not wanting to join in on the fun with Cassandra, as she pursued outside erotic adventures, especially when her invitations were always open.

Raymond could hear his friend Kareem behind him asking something, but he didn’t hear the question because he was too busy fretting quietly about why things didn’t work out with Cassandra.

“I forgave her when she lied, I forgave her when she cheated…I’ve been a sucka for that ho. No one ever cheated on me that many times.”
“I hate to tell you this kid, but maybe you was lackin’ in the dick department, or somethin’.”
“Never that. I know how to beat up a pussy. She’s just a tramp. I never came to grips with that. I never wanted to listen to what dudes were saying to me about her. I thought if it was true, I could change her, make her feel like a queen, and settle her lil’ ass down.”
“You know what they say about tryin’ to make a ho a housewife.”
Kareem chuckled. Raymond stared at him hard.
“Ain’t no holdin’ her down. She’s like that Dorothy Dandridge flick. Don’t nag her about where she’s going, just zip her up, so she can go out and be with other men.”
“I ain’t gonna lie, man. If I had a woman like that, she might kinda turn me on. I mean, we men have been doin’ that forever.”
“It used to be okay for everybody, with that free love shit way back when, but now there’s A.I.D.S. Free love is no longer a part of reality.”

While Kareem plugged the Play station aka pacifier, they heard keys jingling outside the front door. It was Cassandra, the ho that broke his heart.

“Wassup?” she asked with coolness, as she put down her purse.

Raymond noticed the tight jeans hugging her thick thighs and ass, as she approached him. She tried to kiss him, and he turned his face away, as if her breath reeked. Cassandra walked to the window to look at a framed photo of Raymond and her. She picked it up, brandishing it like a weapon of emotional guilt.

“Dang. You did love me at one point.”
“And you loved me like a pair o’ drawers.”
“You are so tired, Ray. You’re always complaining. Just move on.”
“I can move on, when you get your stuff otta here.”

Ignoring Raymond, Cassandra looked over at Kareem, who was playing football on the PS2, pretending to be oblivious.

“Hello, Kareem.”
“Yeah, uh…wassup?”
“Her getting her stuff up outa here, is what’s up.”

Cassandra approached Raymond slowly, as seductively as she used to, just before she would go out with her girls and not come back until four o’clock the next afternoon. Damn, her lips are so juicy, Raymond thought. Her eyes were flame-colored when she stood in the light, but they were auburn as she approached him. She touched his shirt where the buttons clasp, fingering one of the buttonholes, gazing up into his face.

“You don’t have to be so hostile,” she purred.

Raymond loved her voice: silky-smooth, like just-whipped butter. She did something to him with it. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up whenever she spoke to him and looked up at him the way she did. He couldn’t give into that anymore.

“Look, jus’ get your stuff, okay?”

Cassandra licked her lips while she continued to stare up at him. He couldn’t help but think about her hot mouth on his dick, stroking it with her whole mouth, until he exploded down her throat. Raymond cursed aloud at himself, and led her into the bedroom by the hand, as if her pussy was on fire. He slammed the door behind him, and spent long moments letting her suck his dick, and afterwards, fucked her pussy hard while he muttered, “This is goodbye…this is goodbye…”

Kareem could hear the bed springs squeaking, and it turned him on. He paused the football game, so he could hear the nasty things Cassandra was saying, but it was all-inaudible over Raymond’s moans and groans. A few moments went by and there was dead-silence coming from the room, along with the smell of sex floating into the place where Kareem sat. When the door opened, Cassandra wiped the corner of her mouth and approached the front door. Snatching up her purse on the way there she announced, “Imma come back another day, aiight?” She was out of breath.

Raymond rushed over to the doorway, pulling up his pants. He called out to her, and she turned around sharply.

“Cassandra? The keys.”

The look she gave him could have melted cold steel. She slipped through the door, keys in hand. He was going to have to work hard to get his keys back.

GET THE G-SPOT CHRONICLES SOUNDS NOW AVAILABLE ON ITUNES!

2008-08-10T17:33:00.001-04:00

DID YOU GET YOUR COPY OF G-SPOT CHRONICLES THE BOOK YET?

2007-08-07T22:45:00.000-04:00

THE ACTUAL FEMALE G-SPOT

I've been hearing some wild stories about this book's effect on people's sex lives, and love life in general. For example, I heard a story about a woman who was on a sex strike for several months, and after having the book for a few hours, she was all geared up to invite her husband to a motel after work. They've been doing well ever since.

Another couple broke up over the book. Her boyfriend thought the book was too dirty for her to be reading and hid it from her. One story after another gives me a thrill.

Ah, nothing like some good old fashioned porn on paper to get your heart thumping...

FACESITTER

THE BOOK'S HERE, FINALLY!

2007-06-05T15:40:00.001-04:00

I have the book now, and now you can have it, too! Hit me up at facesitter34@yahoo.com for your copy.

CHECK OUT MY WEB SITE

2007-05-28T00:12:00.000-04:00

G-SPOT CHRONICLES IS ABOUT TO DROP, ANY DAY NOW. ARE YOU READY?

NEVERMIND LULU...IT'S COMING OUT ON IUNIVERSE!

2007-05-12T19:46:00.000-04:00

The book's due out any day now. I went with iUniverse to solve my publishing woes. No one asked me to remove one 'dick' or 'pussy' from the manuscript. They only asked--rather demanded--that they be allowed to shoreten my penname, so it appears as FACE S.

I'm not happy about it, but my complaint fell on deaf ears. I guess the name is very in your face, so to speak, and iUniverse is a very reputable company, with a rep to protect.

So get ready non-believers...G-Spot Chronicles is coming to a bookstand near you! And it's the dirtiest little book you'll ever read.

JUST FOR THE RECORD...

2006-07-31T17:39:00.000-04:00

I have no hard feelings about what's gone on re: the whole saga with those dudes at Clarendon Entertainment. Everything happens for a reason.

http://thegspotchroniclessaga06.blogspot.com

2006-05-12T10:28:00.001-04:00

This blog has gotten entirely too full, so I've made a new home for G-Spot Chronicles:
http://thegspotchroniclessaga06.blogspot.com

The One And Only,

FACESITTER

GOT URBAN S.L.A.M.?

2006-04-29T20:17:00.000-04:00

I finally got my DVDs, but the package was missing something: the very Urban S.L.A.M that the two short films appear on. After all the promoting I did for them and the DVD compilation. WOW. I e-mailed him about it, but I haven't heard from him yet. Ain't that a blip? The same DVD he sold me on, to convince me to work with him, was omitted from the package of DVDs.

Also, my writing credit for the two shorts, wasn't on the cover, it was on the inside, in the smallest font they could possibly use. I asked for it to be on the outside, since these films are a part of my resume, after all. Anyway, it's nothing I can't fix, but I'm wondering, where's the Urban S.L.A.M DVD? Where could it be?? He couldn't send me ONE lousy copy?? I know I pissed him off for posting his e-mails, but don't I deserve one copy??

SAY WORD???

2006-04-26T21:40:00.000-04:00

What you are about to read, is Rodney's response to the previous post of his e-mail. Apparently, he's not pleased about my posting his e-mails on this blog. My response is below his. I will keep you posted.

The One And Only,
FACESITTER

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

RODNEY'S RESPONSE

"Marsha Lewis aka FACESITTER,

Since you like posting what should be private e-mails on your blog, let me set the record straight on your last e-mail:

1. When I say we “supported you,” I’m talking about us paying you a cash license fee for the rights to produce 2 short films out of the selected stories. We then invested well into six figures to make 2 high quality shorts that could be paired to create a pilot for a possible G-Spot series on pay cable. I specifically told you at the outset that I wanted to incubate the shorts in our DVD so that we can make our money back because pilots don’t make money. They’re used to pitch series ideas. In addition, having them on our DVD would expose them to our target audience and could add further momentum to turning G-Spot into a series, if the films developed a following on DVD. We did all of this for a manuscript that was and, to this day, remains unpublished. So, if you can’t see that we supported you, then I have nothing further to add.
2. I don’t see how you were shut out of the process. We provided you with the scripts before we went into production on them and I gave you periodic updates whenever stuff changed. I also gave you the contact information for the writer doing the adaptation. Of course I didn’t reach out to you every day, but that’s because there wasn’t anything happening on a daily basis that merited that level of contact. You were informed of shooting dates and locations, festival screenings, the premiere and other important developments. In fact, I recall you came on set one day during the shooting of The Engagement Party. We even asked you to write the treatment for the next 2 stories. You opted out of doing one of them and then submitted the other, Full Contact Kink. I would say you were very much involved.

3. As far as your father’s prediction, WE are the ones who feel used. We won’t have an opportunity to finish what almost everyone agrees was a great start. And if anyone made money, it was you (who received a license fee), the screenwriters, actors, crew, equipment houses, postproduction houses, Eastman Kodak, Panavision, Arriflex, transportation companies, MTA, location proprietors, insurance companies, caterers and security. We certainly didn’t make any money. It is OUR capital at risk. Believe me, if we recouped what we’ve put in so far, we would’ve bought the rights to more G-Spot stories by now. Hell, we probably would’ve already produced more stories. That level of revenue would’ve been proof that the films were indeed appealing to our audience.

4. Regarding the other black filmmakers, exactly what made you select us over the others? Could it be the cash we offered? Could it be the fact that we had a body of work that you could see with your own eyes? Could it be the fact that one of our projects had been licensed to HBO? You made the right decision in selecting us. Its just too bad that you’re not patient enough to see it through to success. Don’t forget, there’s alot of erotic black fiction that’s out there (published, I might add). We selected you Marsha. I just don’t think we made the right decision in doing so.

5. As far as you not relying on the color of a producer’s skin, I guess that’s what it all comes down to: that old tired notion that the white man’s ice is colder. Look around. Do you see any major media company rushing to finance black erotic films with high production values aimed at the African-American audience? The Playboy Channel? HBO/Cinemax? Showtime? Our agenda is to have African-Americans do for themselves what others refuse to do. We remain committed to our independence as a company and to the high quality of our work. We will continue to attract and collaborate with outstanding creative talent that the mainstream industry has overlooked. That ideal is embedded in our DNA and if we happen to get burned by the uninitiated and uninformed few, so be it. You can stick to your agenda – we’ll stick with ours.

6. You could’ve had the DVD’s on day one. It was YOU who insisted on changing the DVD covers to include your website address. We accommodated you, even when we were under no obligation to do so. It took a long time because the graphic designers I used were doing it as a favor. Also, it was not the highest priority since, as you know, we were prepping the DVD for its release. Your name and the identification of G-Spot as the literary source of the films has always been and continues to be in the place where it will have the most impact: both films' credits.

Sincerely,
Rodney

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

FACESITTER'S RESPONSE TO THE ABOVE E-MAIL:

Rodney,

I love publishing our e-mail correspondences, not only because I believe in being upfront and truthful with my readers, but because people want to know what's going on. I will continue to do so.

In an effort to "set the record straight", you have told out-right lies and half truths.

1. You HAD to pay me for the stories, it's called business. However, according to the standard SAG rates, the screenwriter should have made more money than I did, for writing one script for one of the stories. The amount of cash that was paid to me wasn't merely enough, according to industry insiders that I talked to. It was PEANUTS. Furthermore, I had nothing to do with the amount of money you put out to do the films, that's on you. You're the filmmaker, right?

2. I have old e-mails that prove that I had to ask you for info regarding filming, screenings, or even the result of the Urbanworld film festival entry. I had no idea what was going on until I asked. When I did get the opprtunity to show up at the filming of the SECOND film, (The Engagement Party) I was escorted into a room, and I was not allowed to see the filming. I was not even given a bottled water, or a cracker for a snack. The writer whose contact info you gave me never got back in touch with me. I never had any input in the actors you selected. (There are a few that I would not have approved.) As far as the treatments that you asked me to write, it was convenient that I agreed to write them for free, since you would have had to PAY anyone else to write them. The standard price for a treatment to be written is much more that you could have afforded. Who wrote the first two? Not me, I was not asked to do that. Furthermore, you asked me to be more involved as per my e-mails complaining that I was not involved enough in the first two films' productions. Your words: In an e-mail dated Fri, 2 Sep 2005 09:28:11 -0400 re: Future Stuff, you wrote:
"You should definitely be more involved and we can accommodate that for the next stories..."

3. I was used, not you. You did what most filmmakers do: they seek out writers in order to make movies aka MAKE MONEY. $1,000 is not an amount that you know is standard. This "opportunity" to produce more is yours and yours alone. You were the only one benefitting from making a host of short films. There's a saying, "Shit, or get off the pot." I was tired of the constipated movement of this process. Two shorts should have been enough for this thing to get moving.

4. I selected you because (A) you had ONE film licensed to HBO. ONE. (B) You gave me the impression that you were experienced and trustworthy. (C) I thought that I was going to get some payback from the DVDs, since you went on and on about how much money "we" could make. If I knew that you would refuse to give me anything from the sales of the Urban S.L.A.M., I would not have chosen you. I too, made a faulty choice. Like an unhappy marriage, we chose each other, and we both are now disappointed. And yes, the book does remain unpublished, partly because I did not pursue the lawyer you know, who wants to publish it, or the few people who attended the screenings who not only offered to publish it, but bashed you for not including my name on the covers. However, when the book IS published (and it will be) you will get the first copy, hot off the press.

5. The white man's ice IS colder; unreliable, unprofessional black filmmakers prove this over and over. All the channels that you mention, haven't gotten a pitch like mine yet, about this book, which is why they haven't done anything like it, yet. You have this "do for self" motto, but you can't afford to do for self. You can't afford to create a feature film, OR, a series. Sometimes you have to put your pride aside and ask for help. I bet this book would have been done as a series by now, if you had just asked for the financial assistance it needed. As far as feature film or series possibilities, you stated in the same email mentioned above, "We are not monetarily equipped to do a feature or foot the bill for a full season of TV episodes."

6. I did have the DVD from day one: one single, solitary copy of each short film you made. The corrections I asked for were legitimate. I specifically asked for my name to appear on the cover of both films. Why would the writer of the films have to make that request? If anything, it should have read, "A Film By FACESITTER". The request for my website address or e-mail being included was an additional request. Unless my name is in invisible ink on the covers, my name was purposely omitted. If you were working with someone to do it as a favor, maybe you should have treated this as a business situation, instead of a favor based on whatever you based it on. My name should have been where Roderick's name was; this is where it would have had the most impact. If the statement you made about 'impact' was correct, I must ask, why was Roderick's name on the cover? Perhaps his name should have been omitted from the cover as well, and "in the place where it will have the most impact."

The Best,

Marsha Lewis aka FACESITTER

GOT UPDATES?

2006-04-26T14:49:00.000-04:00

I finally heard from Rodney. I don't have a whole lot of time to talk about it, so I'm pasting the e-mail corespondences here.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

RODNEY'S E-MAIL:

Hey FACE,

I have your DVD's. I'll send them to the Pacific Street address I have for you. (its still current right?) Is it ok to send them via fedex? That's the only carrier open when I leave the office in the evening. Let me know.

I have to say I was disappointed to read in your blog that you were "firing" us from doing any further stories. While I understand your wanting to get a G-Spot feature film or TV series done, its unforutnate that you would step on the ones who take a chance on your book in the first place and supported it in a real way (with money, not just talk). I seriously doubt you will find anyone else (esp. African-Americans) in this business who will provide anything close to the support we gave you. Most industry people don't take chances when it comes to the African-American audience, so the status quo rules.

In any case, to confirm a prior e-mail from you, we were only given the rights to make short films based on 2 of the stories. As copyright owner of the literary property, you are free to do what you want with the other stories and the book as a whole.

Good Luck,
Rodney

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

FACESITTER SAID IN RESPONSE:

When should I expect the DVDs?

Our interpretation of the events re: G-Spot Chronicles will always be different. Whenever I describe how I have been treated by you to peoples who have read the book, they say to me that I am the one, who was stepped on. I am baffled to read in your e-mail that you "supported" me in this project, as it seemed to me that I was shut out of the entire process, that is unless I e-mailed you for info, thus the subject heading: GOT UPDATES? My father predicted that I would be used; that other people would be making more money than I would be, and I believe that took place. You may not know this, but it was me who chose you out of several other black filmmakers who were interested in the project.

I am of the believe system that whatever can happen, will. I feel this way about how business professionals interract with artists, and I feel this way about my abilities as an artist. I am an optimist, who is prepared to approach the industry at a few more angles, as well as, with a few other projects, besides this book. Therefore, the comments you make re: how I will be treated by other producers, fall on deaf ears. It is clear to me that I should not rely on the color of the producers/directors' skin, that I end up working with. My agenda does not require me to work exclusively with African American filmmakers, although it would have been nice. I doubt that I would be asking for the DVDs to be sent to me, nearly a year after I originally asked, had I been working with non-African-American filmmakers. I was expecting better treatment from Black filmmakers, than I recieved. I too, am disappointed by the way things turned out. I thought that I had found a semi-permanent home with Clarendon Entertainment.

In any case, I hope that I recieve the DVDs soon.

Good Luck.

Marsha Lewis aka FACESITTER

GREETINGS...

2006-04-19T22:49:00.000-04:00

As I send out queries and wait for a response, a friend of mine contacted me recently and offered to publish my book. Now, all I need to find, is a honey who will pose for the book's cover. I'll keep ya'll posted.

FACESITTER

PS: I still haven't heard a peep from Rodney or Roderick. No copies of the Urban S.L.A.M., or the seperate shorts that they did. Not even one. This is truly an "AHA!" moment...

2006-03-29T21:43:00.000-05:00

My Blog Directory

SO YOU THOUGHT ALL I DID WAS WRITE?

2006-03-29T16:08:00.000-05:00

I've got some sounds for your ears.
I started composing six months ago, and I've come up with some would-be soundtracks. Filmmakers, directors, and curious readers, click on the heading above to view my music page at MYSPACE!

http://www.myspace.com/ocean2005

HAVE YOU PURCHASED YOUR COPY?

2006-03-28T16:17:00.000-05:00

Urban S.L.A.M., volume 1 on DVD.

Urban S.L.A.M. is a unique collection of short live action movies
(S.L.A.M.'s) with compelling segments in between films. Volume 1
features 8 well-crafted mini-movies produced independently. These
S.L.A.M.'s include Tyson Beckford's acting debut (Gully), festival
favorites that have premiered on HBO (The Date) and Showtime (Stone
Mansion) and the first 2 episodes of America's only black erotic
series, The G-Spot Chronicles (The Marriage Counselor & the
Engagement Party).

During breaks in between films, viewers are taken to the streets of
New York City to get people's thoughts on what independent black
cinema really is as well as behind the scenes for an intimate look
into the filmmaking process.

Bonus features include a "making of" documentary, coverage of a
premiere screening, alternate endings, a photo slide show, cast
interviews and coming attractions.

Concurrent with its announcement, Clarendon Entertainment also issued
a call for completed documentaries (short-form & feature-length) and
short films on the black experience. "We seek fresh and compelling
content to program future volumes of Urban S.L.A.M and to distribute
individually," says Roderick Giles, Clarendon's CEO, "we will pay
competitive rates to license this content and introduce it to
audiences on DVD and in various forms of television." Filmmakers are
encouraged to e-mail the title, running time, format and a synopsis
of their completed projects to info@clarendonent.com.

Based in New York City, Clarendon Entertainment is a premier provider
of high-end short-form filmed entertainment aimed at the urban
market. To purchase the DVD or obtain a free DVD demo, please visit
www.urbanslam.com. For more information on Clarendon Entertainment,
please visit www.clarendonent.com.

G-SPOT CHRONICLES UPDATE

2006-03-22T22:26:00.000-05:00

Someone out there wants to know what's going on with G-Spot Chronicles, and that feels great! It means that I am touching you with my work. Okay, here's an update:

Rodney hit me up with an e-mail, telling me that we should review the contract and have a phone conference to talk about it. I've learned through personal experience that you have to plan for the worst; being optimistic,too now. My feelings? The glass is ALWAYS half full.

Last I heard, he wasn't ready to go into pre-production because of cash flow. The Urban S.L.A.M. is allegedly not selling as many copies as anticipated. Wassup, ya'll? There are other flicks on this DVD; it's a great compilation of films and flavors. It's Black media at a competitive level. Rodney shoots for QUALITY, which is why I was mostly pleased with the job that was done on the films.

Overall, I have to say that quality wise I was completely happy with the job they did on the two short film adaptations. They got some nice music, unique, up-and-rising faces and real talent. I heard from people who have seen the films at screenings, that Cassandra's character should have switched places with Cassandra's friend, because she was more pleasing to the eye. I've also heard criticisms about Raymond's character; that his outward persona was too passive, that in the book, Raymond has more aggression.

It's still digging on being on the Urban S.L.A.M. DVD Compilation. I'm ready to pitch to the right people about this project. Shouldn't this book be a series? Imagine flicking on the tube and seeing Black Love? I think everyone wants to read about, or see some Black sex from time to time. And I'm not taking about Zane sex. I mean the real nitty gritty, sand in your vagina from screwing on the beach sex.

I think this is what scared off Q Boro Books. They wanted to edit out the SEX? Are you kidding? The name of the book is "G-Spot Chronicles". If the book was about romance, it would be called "Blowiing Smoke Up Your Ass". I'm not about having smoke blown up my ass, so I refrain from doing it to my readers. I don't write romance, I write about sex. The kind of sex that will make your heart beat hard in your chest from excitement. There might be a few romantic moments here and there, and I will make you laugh sometimes. But don't expect the cascading rose scenes. I could write lots of good stuff for a TV series, especially with more writers, by expanding the characters, so I'm not trying to get 'porn on paper' on TV, LOL! From the looks of what Rodney and Roderick did, you will see (when you get your copy of the DVD) that it's possible to make my book into an erotic series (or film) that's pleasing to the eye, and sits just at the edge of the statue of limitations. Who are my future producers? Who will give me the publishing deal? I'll keep you posted on any bites I get.

ANONYMOUS, I hope this is good enough, 'cause it's all I have for now.

The Best,

FACESITTER

2006-03-10T00:17:00.000-05:00

KONE PRODUCTIONS

2006-03-09T22:30:00.000-05:00

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

For more information, contact:
NAME: M. Lewis AKA Ocean Kone
ADDRESS: XX-XXX-X-XXXXX
Brooklyn NY 11233
PHONE #: XXX XXX-XXXX
E-MAIL: kone_production18@lycos.com.

UNPUBLISHED BOOK MAKES TWO FILMS

FEBRUARY 2006 (BROOKLYN, NY) –FACESITTER is the newest, boldest African-American writer of erotic fiction to hit the black book circuit with G-Spot Chronicles, a book that tells the erotic tales of several black twenty and thirty-something friends living in and around the Brooklyn New York area.

Success came quickly for this unpublished book and the writer, a home schooling Brooklyn mom and wife, residing in the very area she writes about. Aspiring to create a “Black Sex And The City,” M. Lewis, with the penname FACESITTER, caused an online disturbance two years ago, by posting her sultry, erotic stories from the ‘hood, in Yahoo! Writing groups, to get opinions, building an online following, and gaining film producers’ attention. Clarendon Entertainment, a New Jersey-based film company came across some of FACESITTER’S sample chapters, and immediately saw stories worth sharing with those who seek out tasteful, but edgy black erotica. As a result, two short films have been produced from the first two chapters of the book. One of the films, “The Marriage Counselor” even competed in the Urban world Film Festival in the summer of 2005. Currently, FACESITTER is negotiating with Clarendon Entertainment, to do the next two chapters.

FACESITTER is the first person in history to have had two short films produced from an unpublished book. This book pushes the envelope. It is daring, fresh, and beyond the edge, erotic readers have been limited to. If all goes well, G-Spot Chronicles will be the first erotic series ever, before it is ever published.

There have been several screenings of the G-Spot Chronicles’ Short Films:

● Monday, April 11th at 6:30 pm, NY PERKS, Brooklyn NY
(ACT NOW FOUNDATION)

● May 17, 2005, SUGAR, New York, NY

● 2005 Urban World Film Festival (Competition)

TESTIMONIES:

“Face...I love your book, it's sizzlin' ghurl. I can't wait until you get published...
I'd like to have a signed copy please!”-- Wet Spot

“…Baby, you will go far!”—“Lyric”

“Your stories are quite hot… so much so I, got nervous reading them with others at home, so now I wait till they're out or asleep to read them in private...” --Anonymous

“A guilty pleasure is something you know isn't exactly appropriate but it makes you
feel good so you indulge anyway. That's how I think of your writing.” —Jones, 23

“A decadent erotic treat for the senses. The ultimate guilty pleasure. It makes you
quiver in places you forgot you had.
--C. M. Ortiz, 41

“I can't wait to see your book out when a publisher is brave enough to publish it!” Sylvia Hubbard, Author of “Stone Revenge.”
“Be true to self, even as others are busy faking the funk, raw or
not. Don't shy away from your style.”—L.C.

For more information on the G-Spot Chronicles short films currently available http://www.musicsitemakers.com/projects/urban or the book G-Spot Chronicles, check the home site: http://thegspotchroniclesbook.blogspot.com or send an email to FACESITTER at kone_production18@lycos.com.

NEWS ON G-SPOT CHRONICLES' NEXT TWO STORIES

2006-02-19T22:29:00.001-05:00

Ever notice how soon after Valentine's Day, romances fizzle?

There isn't going to be another two stories. Not done by Clarendon Entertainment, not done by anyone. NO MORE SHORTS!!!!

Maybe I've grown spoiled of my status as the only author in history to have chapters of their book produced into film, before the book is even published. In any case, I've been feeling for a long time, like G-Spot Chronicles isn't getting enough justice brought to it. Here are a few reasons why:

1: Short films are cool, but I am shooting for the sitcom deal, the HBO seat, not an endless library of shorts on a 23-chapter book. I want the brass ring and I think I deserve it.

2: In "The Marriage Counselor", "Debra" (aka Petra) cried and told her man's wife "I'm sorry", when she was confronted at her own apartment, about seeing her man. Petra never cries!!! She is not emotional, she's a cold-blooded home wrecker, and she doesn't apologize for that. They told me some stuff about the character having to be sympathetic, a character that people like. In the book, she cold, like I said, and she is the favorite character out of them all!

3: These guys have film smarts, but not enough film cheese to make G-Spot Chronicles a series.

4: I'm left out of the entire mix, and I have to e-mail them for answers that should be forthcoming.

5: With their connections, they should swallow their pride and work with other people who will help connect them to people who will want to give up the cheddar.

Relationships are fragile between us as a people, but a business relationship should be solid; not filled with questions and doubts. So, I did what I knew I had to: I let Clarendon Entertainment go. Here is my Dear John letter:

Rodney,

As the creator, it's difficult for me to realize the time, energy, and cash that you have put into this; just to be disappointed later, must be a let down. I know so little of how much production costs, let alone pre-production, and everything else involved, out side of writing. I know you believe in this book, which is why I am grateful for all that you have done for it, to represent it through film.

You used your casting eye and helped G-Spot Chronicles to gain more of a pulse; you gave the characters life with actors like Will Blagrove, who is so visible and liked, and the camera loved him in the short. Also, Nichole Robinson, who is a welcome sight. Ylonda Powell and the others were also great. How many writers out there can say that they have achieved what I have? I was able to write a book so appealing, it attracted the likes of you and your partner, and you believe in it. That feels great, yet, as I climb, scrape, and scratch my way to the top, I must continue on my pursuit for more.

In an e-mail dated Fri, 2 Sep 2005 09:28:11 -0400 re: Future Stuff, you wrote:
"You should definitely be more involved and we can accommodate that for the next stories..."

From what I can see, I have not been involved in anything. I find out nothing unless I e-mail you questions. The responses are strained and abrupt. I would have loved to know everything you knew about the sales, promotion, etc., since I too continue to promote the DVD. I hate to even ask questions sometimes because I feel as though I am asking things that should be shared with me outright, without my asking. If it was selling the dvd myself at a book stand somewhere, I would check in with you at least every week, to let you know what is going on.

As far as feature film or series possibilities, you stated in the same email, "We are not monetarily equipped to do a feature or foot the bill for a full season of TV episodes." This, for me, has become bottom line. I want more for G-Spot Chronicles, because G-Spot Chronicles is a sexy, intelligent book. The revised copy is filled with innuendo and back-story, intricate details pertaining to issues we Black folk have. It's not just about sex, it is about black sexuality and the current true-to-life circumstances that exist in our universal black community. The book serves as a vehicle for us all to take notice of what is going on in black lives. I want more from the book because we as a people deserve more from what we are viewing on cable or otherwise, and I believe G-Spot Chronicles can give viewers more. This is why I have been working independently, to achieve this endeavor.

Continue to think in terms of promoting the DVD, because it's a beautiful effort and you need to get what you invested back from, but as far as G-Spot Chronicles goes, and trying to get it out to the networks, leave the rest up to me. If I have to put something in writing saying this and sign it, then let me know. As far as I know, the contract we have is for those two chapters that you already produced, and nothing more. The only hands on this project I want, are mine for now. I thank you for your time, energy, and money that you put up for a piece of this book to breathe. I always give you guys props, and I always will.

Keep in touch with me and let me know how you’re getting on in this crazy world of short films.

The Best,

Marsha Lewis aka FACESITTER (facesitter34@yahoo.com)

This was a hard decision for me. Whenever I get one of those, I weigh the pros and cons. I couldn't think of any reason why I should stay with Clarendon. I feel a loss, but I know somehow, that I'm gaining the world by making that power move.

Don't get me wrong, these are MY issues with them. I don't want anyone to shy away from considering them; others may have a different experience. I still love their work and I will always want to see what they're up to. It's no hard feelings, I just have to do me a little better.

FACESITTER

Will Blagrove as RAYMOND in "THE ENGAGEMENT PARTY"

2006-02-19T21:59:00.000-05:00

Nickname:
Will
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Height:
6' 3" (1.91 m)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mini Bio:

Will Blagrove, a Pre-Law graduate turned driven screen actor, started out working on numerous commercials for such companies as KFC, MTV, ESPN, Showtime, and even a 1-800 COLLECT spot alongside Mr. T. Will also recently acted in a United Negro College fund commercial where he worked with Hollywood's acclaimed director Spike Lee. In addition, he recently wrapped a spot for NIKE where he worked with feature film director Paul Hunter (Bulletproof Monk).

Will's goal has always been to branch out onto the silver screen and his commercial success has no doubt helped to launch his film career. At St. John's University, Will took an active role in the arts and was elected Vice President of his school's theatre community. He wrote, directed, and acted in several plays and has been unable to shake the acting bug ever since. With his experience, education and boundless enthusiasm, he intends to carve out a career and make his mark as a respected screen actor.

JOANES PROSPER ASSOCIATE PRODUCED "THE ENGAGEMENT PARTY"

2006-02-19T18:35:00.000-05:00

JOANES PROSPER (Actor)-- made his first stage appearance with TAT as Tom Robinson in
TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD in 2003. He is a graduate of Pennsylvania State University. Some of his off-Broadway stage credits include THE MAKING OF THE BLACK MAN at the Theatre for the New City, A DIFFERENT HOPE at Carnegie Hall, GETTING OUR PROPS at B. Smiths, and THE BOX at Roger Furman Theatre. Mr. Prosper’s television appearances include SEX IN THE CITY, OZ, and ED. Film work includes several shorts and two feature films. He is currently wrapping production on the feature film WOMEN AT STEAK and stars in the film, BEHIND THE ROPES. Mr. Prosper would like to thank God, his family, friends and manager for their support. He also gives huge thanks to TAT for this opportunity

Nedra Mc Clyde's Resume (HER PART WAS CREATED FOR THE FILM)

2006-02-19T18:27:00.000-05:00

http://www.angelfire.com/md/famousnedra/

RAYAN LAWRENCE AS KAREEM

2006-02-19T18:17:00.000-05:00

I'm looking forward to working with him in the future...

CHECK OUT HIS RESUME AT: http://www.hollywoodauditions.com/talent/lawrence.htm

NICHOLE ROBINSON AS "DEBRA" AKA "PETRA" IN "THE MARRIAGE COUNSELOR" IS NO BEGINNER

2006-01-30T23:10:00.000-05:00

She appeared in FACESITTER's short film, "The Marriage Counselor", and she had a guest spot on HBO's "Huff." Where else you’ve seen her:

As a winner of the Elite Model Look contest and strutting her stuff as a model, most notably in Maxim’s 2000 swimsuit issue.

Another more-than-willing man servant:

“I was just in L.A. for a job, and I was waiting for a car service to pick me up when a guy came up to me and said, ‘You’re Nichole.’ I assumed he was my driver, so I said, ‘Yes, are you ready to go?’ He paused with this strange look on his face and said, ‘I’d go anywhere with you—especially if you wore that green bathing suit again.’”

Girl, you’ll be a woman soon…

“They used to call me the carpenter’s dream. Flat in the front and flat in the back. When I graduated from high school, I asked my mom, ‘You and my sister have breasts. What happened to mine?’ Maybe I prayed too long, or maybe that extra scoop of ice cream set in, but they finally grew.”

They’re all eyes:

“When the Maxim swimsuit issue came out, I did an anonymous mailing to all the guys who turned me down. They never paid attention to me then, but they’re paying attention now.”

Model behavior:

“Anytime anything negative happens in the industry, I get in trouble. If Kate Moss is in rehab, I’m grounded. If Naomi Campbell is beating up someone, I’m grounded. My dad thinks we all hang out together.”

NICHOLE'S CREDITS

Nichole is no green pea; she's got a lot to be proud of. Check out her time line:

March 2006 - HUFF, SEASON 2 - PEPPER'S BACK!!!! and she's just the spice that's been missing. Nichole reprises her role as the ever naughty Pepper on the critically acclaimed, EMMY winning Showtime hit "!Huff". (YOU DO NOT WANT TO MISS SEASON 2 ,TRUST ME :):):):):)

February 2006 - JEWEL MAGAZINE - Our girl channels Diana Ross in a beauty story for Jewel magazine's second issue. We already knew Nichi was a jewel but it doesn't hurt to spread the news :). (the March issue, on a news stand in February) Member's check your page for a sneak peek.

January 2006 - THE PREMIERE - Nichole sizzles as the star of an action film in this brilliant short directed by Branden Williams and starring Brett Ratner, Simon Rex! I think she had fun on set :).

October 2005 - SEX,LOVE & SECRETS - Our girl Nichole guest stars on the 4th episode of UPN's new show, "Sex, Love & Secrets". She plays a model, hmmmm wonder if she pulled that role off :, and does a wacky dance routine. Word on the street is that our little cutie is a little "dance-challenged" :)

October 2005 - NICHOLE'S NEXT MOVIE! - Look for Nichole in "Dirty", the fast paced day-in-the-life drama about two members of an "elite" anti-gang unit of the LAPD starring Cuba Gooding Jr. and Clifton Collins Jr.

July 2005 - MERCEDES BENZ - Look for our sweet Nichole in commercials for the new 2006 CLS 500. She'll have you seeing four and wanting more. (that will make sense once you watch ;)

April 2005 - LISTEN UP - Check out our girl as she guest stars on CBS's new comdey, Listen Up, starring Jason Alexander and Malcom Jamal Warner.

March 2005 - WWW.OUTERBEAUTY.NET - Our little Nichi has landed on the cover of web magazine www.outerbeauty.net. And according to the accompanying article, she is a football fanatic with a big crush on a football player or two or three or 20 :).

January 2005 - HALIFAX BANK COMMERCIAL - Nichole appears in a commercial for Halifax Bank shot by the wonderful Jake Nava. Our girl is a synchronized swimmer, yes I repeat a synchronized swimmer in this very "blinged" out, wonderfully creative commercial. Ok we all have to look out for Nichole's performance because I happen to know that she can't swim ;). SHHHH!!!!! Don't tell anyone :).

December 2004 - STITCH MAGAZINE - check out your girl in a beauty story for Stitch Magazine on stands in December.

December 2004 - THE MARRIAGE COUNSELOR - Nichole is the lead in this short film about a girl looking for love in all the wrong places. Directed by Nzingha Stewart, Nichole brings a sweet innocence into a character that personifies the strength, struggle and weakness that lives in all women. (members look for behind the scenes photos)

November 2004 - NICHOLE'S 3RD MOVIE! - Nichole will be starring in the psychological thriller, The Pendulum, written and directed by Ricardo Sean Thompson. Our darling little Nichi really displays her acting chops as she plays a mental ward patient and a spy trapped in the mind of her schizophrenic roommate. This will definitely be a must see!!! Oh and keep your butt in the seat for the credits, pay special attention to the script supervisor, "Lisa" :) (members look for behind the scenes photos) I will keep you posted on a release date, so far none has been set.

November 2004 - HUFF - Our mamacita has landed her first recurring role on a television show. So go renew your Showtime subcriptions and tune in every week to watch our girl do her thing. Nichole stars opposite Hank Azaria and Oliver Platt in this Showtime dramedy. This show is definitely rated R so if you are under 18 "Go To Bed"! (members look for behind the scenes photos)

September 2004 - MODS HAIR COMMERCIAL - Our little Nicho-chom is invading Japan by way of a commercial for Mods Hair Salons. (Members can preview the commercial on our page in September)

June 2004 - LUIRE MAGAZINE COVER - "Nicho-chom" is back in Japan by way of a Luire cover and 6 page fashion story. On US stands in July, Maki Kawakita shot Nichole for her first Japanese cover. Arugato!!!!!!! (members look for behind the scenes photos)

April 2004 - URBAN DECAY - "Girl Power!" was the theme behind Nichole's new Urban Decay cosmetics ads. Check her out next spring doing her Ms. Independent thing.

February 2004 - ACUVUE AD CAMPAIGN - Our very own sweetie pie, Nichole, is the new face of Acuvue Colours. Who knew you could change your eye color like you change your purse and still look fabulous?

January 2004 - NICHOLE'S FIRST MOVIE! - This winter check out Nichole as she shares the screen with Ice Cube in "Torque," Warner Brother's action packed flick.

December 2003 - NICHOLE'S SECOND MOVIE! - This winter, Nichole once again displays her acting skills in "Love Don't Cost A Thing" a re-make of "Can't Buy Me Love". Nichole stars in this PG-13 romantic comedy with Nick Cannon. (members look for behind the scenes photos)

December 2003 - KING MAGAZINE - THREE-PEAT! Catch Nichole's third appearance in King Magazine this December. Her photo's are so hot you'll soon discover why she's the Queen of King.

December 2003 - LUIRE - Guess who's gaining popularity in Japan? Yep, your girl Nichole. She will appear in a 6 page fashion story in the November issue (on stands in the US in December) of Luire rocking you from the 60's to the new millenium. This issue marks Nichole's 3-peat performance with Luire readers. Three issues in one year. Cute right! (members look for behind the scenes photos)

November 2003 - PEPSI COMMERCIAL - Nichole is officially a member of the Pepsi Generation. Joe Pytka directed her and Dave Chappelle in this hilarious spot that is sure to make you look at your vacuum cleaner a bit more cautiously ;).

November 2003 - TIME OUT NY - Our favorite cutie pie, Nichole is on the cover of Time Out NY and she has a big gift just for you. Be sure to get your copy of Time Out NY on 11/18/03!!!

September 2003 - EPSON - Don't miss Nichole in the new amazingly creative Epson printer ads. She's representing Summer in the ads, but you already knew she was hot :).

September 2003 - ECP Style - Look for the launch of this fabulous new publication this fall by the creators of Essence Magazine. Nichole shows you her "business" side in her 8 page fashion story shot by the legendary Roberto Ligresti.

August 2003 - SOURCE MAGAZINE - Nichole lights up the pages of the August issue of the Source magazine in her 6 page fashion spread shot by photographer Juan Algarin.

July 2003 - 80 - Nichole's back in Japan! Well her pictures are anyway :). Photographer Atsuko Tanaka photographed Nichole for "80", Tokyo FM's hot magazine. (FYI: Tokyo FM is Japan's biggest radio station.) To find out when Nichole had her first kiss and what she got afterwards, call your Japaneese friends over to translate the article :).

June 2003 - JOIE CALENDAR - Don't miss Nichole in the new Joie clothing company calendar.

April 2003 - ESSENCE MAGAZINE'S BEAUTY BOOK - "Self Seduction: Your Ultimate Path To Inner and Outer Beauty", is the title of Essence Magazine's book tributing women of color. Don't miss Nichole's beautiful photographs.

April 2003 - HARD TAIL AD CAMPAIGN - Nichole is the newest face of the Hard Tail clothing line. See her shake her groove thang in their new ad campaign.

February 2003 - FRENCH MAX - Oooohhhh la la! Nichole is featured in a sultry pictorial and article in the February issue of French Max. How do you say "unforgettable" in French?

February 2003 - ESSENCE MAGAZINE - Don't miss Nichole in Essence's beautiful bridal story!

January 2003 - NINE MAGAZINE - British Magazine, Nine, has chosen Nichole for its first cover of the new year! She also chatted with the editors for this December/January issue, so stop drooling over the cover and read the article inside as well. Oh alright,drool:).

January 2003 - PACO RABANNE BOOK - Dedicated to the creations of legendary designer Paco Rabbane, this book is sure to be a coffee table must! Shot by Thierry Leguoes, Nichole sizzles off the pages.

January 2003 - LUIRE MAGAZINE - Nichole was photographed and interviewed for her first Japanesse magazine. AND IT WAS SO MUCH FUN! So run to the nearest international newstand. You may need a translator to read her artlcle:). Issue 2, February 2003.

November 2002 - FRENCH MAX CALENDAR - Nichole is featured in the new 2003 French Max Calendar.

November 2002 - ESSENCE MAGAZINE - Nichole is the featured beauty story.

October 2002 - OFF CENTER - Be sure to tune into the WB to see Nichole as she guest stars on this sitcom opposite Eugene Levy.

September 2002 - KING MAGAZINE - Nichole is on the cover of the preview issue and is featured in issue #4, Fall 2002.

August 2002 - ESSENCE MAGAZINE - Nichole is the featured beauty story.

July 2002 - WILSON'S LEATHER AD - Look for Nichole in the new Wilson's leather advertisements shot by Matthew Ralston

July 2002 - TWILL MAGAZINE - Check out Nichole on the cover of this French publication. Of the 8 covers for this month's issue, Nichole's cover is the number one seller. She also has a 6 page story inside.

July 2002 - AEROSMITH VIDEO "GIRLS OF SUMMER" - Nichole was one of the leading ladies in this classic Aerosmith video.

July 2002 - MAXIM CALENDER - Nichole is featured in the 2002 Maxim calendar, she's Miss March.

July 2002 - ZOOZOOM.COM - An online magazine, Nichole is on the cover of issue 14 and is also in the Fashion and Beauty section. After launching page, go to contents, then go to "All That Glitters."

July 2002 - GAP BODY AD - Head to a Gap near you. Nichole has a beautiful larger than life ad being feaured in stores.

July 2002 - TWIX COMMERCIAL - Nichole is in the Twix commercial with R&B singer Usher.

June 2002 - FRENCH MAX - There is an 8 page photographic story and article written about Nichole.

June 2002 - XXL MAGAZINE - See Nichole's sexy swimsuit story.

March 2002 - 1-800-CALL-AT&T COMMERCIAL - Nichole plays the sexy lady in red in this commercial with DL Hugley and Johnny Cochran.

December 2001 - DIVAS MAGAZINE - Nichole is on the cover of this french publication. The 8 page story on her is unbelievable.

Story 21: Girls’ Night Out

2006-01-28T00:31:00.000-05:00

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the last chapter I will post from the book. I want ya'll to buy my book when it surfaces.

I'm currently waiting to hear from the producers about the next two chapters being adapted into film, so stay tuned. You can purchase the dvd with the short film adaptations (The Marriage Counselor, The Engagement Party) that's available right now at http://www.urbanslam.com. And to all those who read my blog and give me love, I love ya back!

Girls’ Night Out
©2003 Marsha Lewis

Larry’s BBQ Grill & Bar was the place for the ladies’ next meeting.

Sharon and Kim strolled in with their pinky fingers linked, but Petra and Cassandra didn’t notice, since they were talking loudly, and catching each other up on the current events.

“Giiiiirrrrrrlllll, did you hear what the fuck Kobe did?” Cassandra said loudly.
“THE STATE VS. KOBE BRYANT, girl!” Petra crooned.
“Hey ya’ll,” Kim said, as she and Sharon sat.
“Wassup,” Sharon said.
“Hey ya’ll,” Cassandra said. She barely saw Sharon and Kim disconnect fingers, but she paid it no mind. For that split second, she wondered what was going on, but she couldn’t imagine them being together romantically.
“Ya’ll talkin’ ‘bout Kobe?” Kim asked, trying to break into their conversation.
“You heard what he did, right?” Petra asked.
“Naw, what?” Sharon asked.
Petra looked as though she was salivating. She loved a scandal, as long as it wasn’t her own.

“Honey, where have you had your head buried? Kobe raped some girl—“
“He didn’t rape that girl. You know how them white girls are. They love to scream rape, after they don’ had a good black dickin’ down,” Cassandra said.
“She told the police that he grabbed her by the neck, bent her over a chair, pulled her draws down from behind, and raped her. And while he was rapin’ her, he was like: 'You’re not going to tell anyone about this, are you?’”
“Hmmm, that musta been some good dick!” Petra said.
“I bet she be fantasizin’ over that sex every night, girl!” Cassandra crooned.

The women giggled a little. Cassandra couldn’t help herself. She had to be the one to bust out laughing lawlessly. For once she and Petra agreed on something.

“Girl, you know it!” Cassandra said.
“And dude made her kiss his dick when it was over…he was like “kiss it!” Cassandra continued.
“Lord have mercy…I wish I had that opportunity!” Petra crooned.
“Damn girl, you nasty!” Kim said, while the women laughed.
“Girl, have you taken a good look at Kobe Bryant? He is f-i-n-e…dick probably taste like a Snickers bar,” Cassandra said.
“Girl, that bitch is the lucky one. I wish I could get some Kobe all up on my tonsils,” Petra crooned.

Cassandra and Petra busted out laughing lawlessly, and Kim giggled a little.

A muscular, tall black man approached, holding a round tray to his side, and a sexy smile.

“Good evening, ladies.”
“Good evenin’,” Petra and Cassandra said in unison. The waiter smiled, and his teeth were pearly white, cutting through the dim lighting. Petra and Cassandra were sizing him up like prime rib. And they were wolves, very hungry ones.
“Can I take your order?”

Cassandra stared down at his legs, and got a good eyeful of his crotch. She was still staring at it while she spoke.

“Is some of that on the menu? ‘Cause that’s somethin’ I can really devour!” Cassandra said.

The waiter smiled, and didn’t respond to Cassandra.

“You are such a ho! We’ll take four bloody marys with a touch of lemon,” Kim said.

The waiter nodded his head, and turned to leave. Cassandra and Petra craned their necks to watch his ass, as he walked away.

“Uh, uh, uh! Now that’s an ass,” Cassandra said.
“And did you see that package upfront? Damn!” Petra said.
“Ya’ll hoes need to chill. He couldn’t afford to take ya’ll nowhere. His tips probably barely feed him,” Kim said.
“With a package like that, he ain’t gotta take me nowhere. I’ll stay in, and feast on that dick!” Cassandra said.
“So wassup with Raymond?” Sharon asked.
“Girl, he thinks that he can let me go. I went over there the other day, and threw it on him again. He can’t resist this,” Cassandra bragged.
“You know, you’re real bold, or stupid, to keep steppin’ to him. One day, he might throw somethin’ on you, and I’m not talkin’ about some dick,” Petra said.
“Yeah, you should talk. Fuck any women’s mens lately?”
“On the daily, babe, but they can’t do me nothin’. They need to be vexed at their men, not me,” Petra said.
“Yeah, right. You know it don’t work like that. And we black women; we strike first, and ask questions later, so you better mind your ass. ‘Cause you might be gettin’ some reconstructive surgery, if you mess with the wrong woman’s man,” Cassandra said.
“Blackie might do you in,” Petra said.
“Fat chance,” Cassandra said, before Petra could get the words out good.
“What about you? Had anymore get-togethers?” Kim asked Petra.
“Soon, babe girl. Soon. Wanna come to the next one?”
“I’ll have to get back to you on that one.” Petra smiled. She knew that her orgies intimidated other women.
“Hey, Sharon, why are you so quiet? I thought you had some kinky inclinations towards Kobe,” Cassandra said.

“Yeah, I do…I guess I’m just out of it right now. I’m pregnant.”

The women fell silent. Kim awkwardly looked at the others, and noticed that Petra’s mouth was hanging open.

“Who da baby-daddy, Shon?” Petra asked.
“Uh-huh…” Sharon said.
“Hmmm, so what chu gonna do?” Cassandra asked.
“I’m keepin’ it…and Kim’s gonna help me.”

Kim looked at her, shocked that she would tell the girls so soon. Kim felt like she had just announced that they were sleeping with each other.

“Kim, I thought you had a full plate already,” Cassandra said.
“Yeah, how ‘ya’ll gon’ do this?” Petra asked.
Kim said, ”It’ll work out. She’s gonna move in with me, and Imma help her wit her pregnancy, and the baby when it comes.”
“Dang…I’m not that close with no bitch!” Petra said.
“For real, girl…pregnant bitches are the worst!” Cassandra said.
“Ya’ll just need to stop. Sharon is our girl. So let’s pull together to help her through this,” Kim said.
“I feel like this. We ain’t had to ‘pull together’ for her to get some dick, so why I gotta help her with the baby she made?” Petra asked.
Sharon stared at Petra, and nodded her head slowly, absorbing what she took, as a sudden and unexpected verbal assault.
“You cold blooded,” Kim said.
“Naw, I’m real, baby-girl. That’s on the real. I ain’t nobody’s mama, so I ain’t gotta do shit!” Petra said.
“You have no tact, you just a crude bitch!” Kim said.
“It’s aiight, Kim, she’s right. She ain’t gotta help me. I got myself into this,” Sharon said, before she got up from the table, and headed for the door.
“Sharon, wait!” Kim yelled. Sharon was moving too fast, so she ran after her.

Cassandra and Petra watched the two run out the door.

“Damn, you would think those two are fuckin',” Cassandra said.

Petra laughed. “That’ll be the day! Kim is too frigid to do something like that, and Sharon’s strung out on dick.”

Cassandra smiled. “Strung out on dick, huh? Like you?”
“Girl, I can handle my shit without gettin’ strung out. You the one who’s strung out. Still can’t leave Raymond alone….you really wanna get me started?” Petra asked.

Cassandra stared at Petra, and realized the painful truth: She was strung out on Raymond.

G-Spot Chronicles Short Films On Sale Via URBAN S.L.A.M. DVD

2006-01-20T20:11:00.000-05:00

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

======================================================================

New York, December 22, 2005 – Clarendon Entertainment today announced
the release of Urban S.L.A.M., volume 1 on DVD.

Urban S.L.A.M. is a unique collection of short live action movies
(S.L.A.M.'s) with compelling segments in between films. Volume 1
features 8 well-crafted mini-movies produced independently. These
S.L.A.M.'s include Tyson Beckford's acting debut (Gully), festival
favorites that have premiered on HBO (The Date) and Showtime (Stone
Mansion) and the first 2 episodes of America's only black erotic
series, The G-Spot Chronicles (The Marriage Counselor & the
Engagement Party).

During breaks in between films, viewers are taken to the streets of
New York City to get people's thoughts on what independent black
cinema really is as well as behind the scenes for an intimate look
into the filmmaking process.

Bonus features include a "making of" documentary, coverage of a
premiere screening, alternate endings, a photo slide show, cast
interviews and coming attractions.

Concurrent with its announcement, Clarendon Entertainment also issued
a call for completed documentaries (short-form & feature-length) and
short films on the black experience. "We seek fresh and compelling
content to program future volumes of Urban S.L.A.M and to distribute
individually," says Roderick Giles, Clarendon's CEO, "we will pay
competitive rates to license this content and introduce it to
audiences on DVD and in various forms of television." Filmmakers are
encouraged to e-mail the title, running time, format and a synopsis
of their completed projects to info@clarendonent.com.

Based in New York City, Clarendon Entertainment is a premier provider
of high-end short-form filmed entertainment aimed at the urban
market. To purchase the DVD or obtain a free DVD demo, please visit
www.urbanslam.com. For more information on Clarendon Entertainment,
please visit www.clarendonent.com.

Story 20: Jilted

2006-01-18T23:49:00.000-05:00

I'm going over the manuscript once more, to fine tune the chapters. Give me feedback, this is the next story to be proofed.

by FACESITTER
©2003 Marsha Lewis

Paul stood at the door, watching Kim and Sharon get themselves together. Sharon snatched up her clothes, and ran into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her, while Kim had her back turned to Paul, cursing him out, as she frantically put on her clothes.

“Why the fuck won’t you give me back my fuckin’ house keys?”
“Wow, this is what floats your boat?” Paul asked, as he closed the door, and made himself comfortable on the couch.

“Paul, my sex life is not your business.”
“Everything you do is my business, as long as you’re raisin’ my son. So… the fake dick was for my sister, huh?” Paul walked toward the bathroom, shouting at the door.

“Sharon, come on out! Face the music, my sweet dyke sister!”
“How many times do I have to flush to get rid of you?” Kim asked, staring angrily at
Paul, who was almost smiling.
“You always had a way with words, babe,” Paul crooned, as he sat down.
Sharon came out of the bedroom, fully dressed, with her hair still a bit messy, and looking angry.

“I can’t believe this shit! My wife, and my own fuckin’ sister, fuckin’ on my livin’room floor-“
“She ain’t your wife, and this ain’t your house no more,” Sharon said.

Paul got up, and approached Sharon.

“Oh, so Imma about to fight my own sister over my woman, is that it? Since when are you a lesbian, huh? How did this happen in the first place?”
“That’s not your business, either!” Kim yelled, getting in his face.
“Oh, I think you better stay out of this, this is a family matter!” Paul said, as he shoved Kim back. Sharon got in Paul’s face, defending Kim.

“Don’t be puttin’ your hands on her, Paul! You need to do yourself a favor and get out!”

Paul slapped Sharon across the face, and they both lunged at Paul, slapping him, scratching and punching him in the face. He tried to guard his face from the blows, but to no avail. Soon, he had fallen to the floor, with both women working him over, mainly on the eyes and groin, poking, kneeing, elbowing. Kim stood up while Sharon had him pinned to the floor, and stomped on his balls. Paul let out a deafening cry.

“AAAHHH, YOU BITCH! IMMA FUCK YOU UP!”

Kim reached into his pockets, searching for her keys, and got the house keys from his pocket, jingling them in his face, before she snatched them away and moved close to Sharon. Through his teeth, he said,” I have another set.”
“Well, if you decide to use that set, Imma be waitin’ for yo ass, and Imma fuck yo shit up!” Sharon yelled.

Kim looked at Sharon, and Paul stared at them both as if they had horns on their heads.

“Oh, you live here now, huh, sis?”
“That’s right, muthafucka! So get the fuck up out my house!” Sharon replied.

Kim encouraged Sharon to back off for a minute, to give Paul a chance to get up, and leave. He got to his feet, and dusted himself off, as if he had only tripped. He nursed his balls for a moment, milking them, and touching them tenderly through his pants, as if he was checking to see if they were still there. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Kim’s face. Kim was standing next to Sharon, who looked like she wanted to rip her brother to shreds.

“So this is it? This is what you’ve been reduced to? You’re fuckin’ my sister? Why couldn’t you tell me?”
“She’s not your wife anymore, and she don’t have to tell you shit. Why didn’t you feel compelled to mention it when you were cheating on her? Get the fuck out, you ain’t shit!”
“And what are you? I mean, God only knows how long this shit’s been goin’ on!”
“Just leave, Paul…there’s nothin’ left for you here,” Kim said, holding Sharon’s arm, which seemed to have a mind of its own.

Paul pointed at Kim’s face.

“This isn’t over. My son lives here, and as long as he lives here with you, and you’re fuckin’ my sister, we have beef.”

Sharon lunged forward a bit, with Kim holding her arm.

“Get the fuck out, Paul!” Sharon yelled.

Paul smirked, and turned to leave. He looked back at the two of them standing there, breathing hard with anger.

“Damn, what a waste of skin.”

Paul exited and Kim felt like she could exhale for the first time since they noticed he was standing there, watching them have sex.

Sharon and Kim looked at each other. Sharon noticed a tear slowly rolling down Kim’s cheek, and she wiped it away.

“Wanna take a bath with me?”

Sharon moved in closer to Kim, who was so upset, she could barely speak. Suddenly, a burst of emotion came out of her, and she was crying. She put her face into Sharon’s shoulder, sobbing.

“It’s alright, baby girl…I’m here, and I ain’t never gotta leave you.”

Kim looked up at Sharon, and what she saw scared her. Sharon was looking at Kim as if she was in love with her. The whole situation was heavy enough: helping Sharon with her baby, and being her support system. Love entering the picture would only complicate matters. Paul knowing about them, and threatening to take their son from her, was a worry she constantly had, but she honestly didn’t know how she felt about Sharon, and it was an area she wanted to avoid. For now, she was just happy to have her as a bed buddy and friend, and wanted to see the best happen for her and the baby.

“Let me take care of you for a change. You’re the one who’s pregnant. You hungry?”
“Naw, let’s just have a nice bath…we can work up an appetite,” Sharon replied, smiling mischievously.

Sharon looked at Kim’s face while she took down the straps of her tank top. She kissed Kim’s shoulders, and held her close. Kim put her hands on Sharon’s ass, and squeezed gently, and Sharon let out a soft moan.

“MMM…. I love what you do to my body…” Sharon whispered.

They looked at each other, and their lips seemed to melt together in a soft, warm kiss. Kim opened her mouth, welcoming Sharon’s tongue, as they held one another.
Slowly, Kim stripped Sharon of her shirt, and Sharon pulled off hers, immediately letting her hands cup Kim’s soft, warm breasts. She sucked the tender nipples into her mouth, and Kim moaned softly, encouraging Sharon to continue. Then Kim kissed Sharon’s shoulders, and her breasts, while Sharon’s hands cradled Kim’s head. While Kim was kissing Sharon’s breasts, and sucking the nipples, she thought about sex with Remi, how excited she was. Kim wondered if she would feel the same way about his sex, if she were with him again. She wondered if Sharon would enjoy having sex with them both, but she didn’t want any more problems with Sharon over a man. Her thoughts went to the mystery man she dreamed of, penetrating her pussy, over and over. She saw herself sucking the mystery man’s dick, and then her thoughts went to the surprise she purchased the other day. Hastingly, she pulled Sharon into the bedroom, announcing, “I have a surprise for you. Get naked, and get on the bed.”

Sharon pulled off the rest of her clothes quickly, and crawled on to the bed, like a happy leopard.

“Close your eyes, babe.”

Sharon closed her eyes, smiling, hardly being able to contain herself. Kim reached into the closet, and pulled out the long white box. It had an inviting red bow. She put it on the bed, and said, ”Okay, open your eyes,” and Sharon did. Sharon grabbed the box quickly, and immediately began pulling the red bow apart, while periodically looking up at Kim. She opened the box, and revealed the long, thick, clear-colored sex toy: double-headed dildo. Sharon’s mouth hung open, and her eyes were wide with excitement, as if she was a child receiving toys on her birthday.

“Giiirrllll, this is gonna be fun!” Sharon crooned, while she ran her hand up and down the length, her hand stopping at the fat heads at either end. She even licked the head, and smile up at Kim.

“I knew you’d like it…cost me a pretty penny, too, but I’m sure it’ll be well worth it,” she said, as she got on the bed next to Sharon. Sharon stared at Kim for a moment, smiling, and affectionately touching her face. They stared at each other for long moments.
“Well, let’s try this thing out!” Kim said, trying to snap herself out of the self-induced trance she was in.
“Not so fast! Let’s not be dogmatic, like dudes…you know how we do,” Sharon said.
“I’ll get the strawberries, and you get under the covers!” Kim said. Sharon snuggled under the red satin sheets, clutching the double-headed dildo, with a smile pasted onto her face.

In a matter of moments, Kim had returned, holding a bowl of strawberries, a bowl of chocolate, and a can of whip cream. She had this all on a tray, nicely arranged, with peeled bananas on the side. As Kim placed the tray of fruit on the bed, she said:

“Babe, I want you to clear your mind, and only think of what your mouth, and your tongue are about to experience. In fact, I’m gonna blind-fold you. Ready?”

Sharon allowed Kim to blind-fold her. Then Kim dipped a banana into the chocolate, and said, “Don’t bite it,” while she slid the chocolate-covered banana into her mouth, in and out, until the chocolate was gone. Sharon was getting aroused. Kim took away the banana, and dipped the strawberry into the chocolate, then took it to Sharon’s mouth, and said, “Bite it, babe.”

She bit into the strawberry. Sharon got aroused even more, feeling Kim’s fingers holding the strawberry.
“MMMM,” Sharon moaned softly. Then she felt Kim touching her nipples. Sharon didn’t know it, but Kim was smearing chocolate on her nipples. All she knew, is that Kim was sucking her nipples into her mouth, and she was loving every moment. Sharon felt the walls of her pussy salivating. Kim licked the skin between her breasts with the flat of her tongue. She dragged her tongue all the way down to Sharon’s mound. Sharon was breathing heavily by now, softly speaking to Kim, in tones that made it impossible to know what she was saying. Kim had a good idea.

She parted Sharon’s legs, and licked the folds of her pussy a little, teasing her clit with the tip of her tongue. Then she dove into her crack, with her stiff, wet tongue, and Sharon encouraged her to continue, with her hands on top of her head. Kim hummed on her clit, which sent shutter waves of pleasure through her body. Next, Kim reached for the double-headed dildo, and slowly slipped it between Sharon’s folds, deep inside.

“Oooh…aaahhh,” Sharon said softly, as Kim pushed the dildo inside, deeper and deeper. When she felt that she had reached a point at which she could push the dildo no further, she withdrew it slowly, without taking it out of her pussy, and began to steadily pump the phallus.

“Oooh yes….uuuhh…yeah, babe……yes…” Sharon said, pumping her hips up to meet Kim’s thrusts. Kim was enjoying herself, but she was feeling a little envious of Sharon having this giant thing inside her. She wanted to share the fun. She paused from pushing the dildo inside of Sharon, and said: “Babe, take over, so I can get undressed.”
Sharon reached for her blindfold, and pulled it off of her eyes. She stared at Kim with heavy lust in her eyes, licking her lips, and biting them gently. Then she reached down, and pulled out the dildo slowly, and licked it like it was a dollar icee from the ice cream man, and she was six years old; working on the sides first, to prevent the juice from dripping on her hands. She sucked the head into her mouth, turning it while she sucked, staring at Kim. She traced the lips of her opening as she watched Kim.

Once Kim had stripped down to her birthday suit, she crawled into the bed. Sharon was still sucking the dildo with all her heart, and using her tongue to trace the fat mushroom head. She didn’t take her eyes off Kim. Sharon took the dildo out of her mouth, and while Kim was kneeling between her knees, she rubbed the wet, swollen lips of Kim’s pussy with it. Kim slipped her hand between her legs, and helped her guide it inside.

“MMMM,” Kim exhaled. Then, while gripping it firmly, she pushed Sharon’s legs apart gently, and guided the other end of the dildo inside herself. Kim let her body slowly cover Sharon’s, and they grinded and pumped slowly, enjoying every stroke, with their tongues locked.

The two breathed heavily, and whispered to each other.

“Damn, babe…damn, this is just too good,” Kim said, as she stared down into Sharon’s face. Kim always got a psychological rush from fucking Sharon with the strap-on dildo, but this time, with the double-headed dildo, it was a double-rush. Penetrating her and being on top of her, much less, being penetrated by her thrusts…well, that took the cake. Actually, it was Kim having her cake, and eating it too. Strawberry shortcake with all the fixings: the whip cream, the spongy-layered cakes, and the fat, wet, fresh, juicy slices of strawberries.

Both women were provoked into thinking about the last excellent dick they had. Sharon thought about Shon, and how he screwed inside her pussy like the professional whore that he was. And Kim, well, she thought about Shon, too, and how long and fat his dick was. The dildo reminded her of his dick, but this toy was better.

Taken over by a wave of lust, Sharon gripped Kim’s ass cheeks, and rolled over, so that Kim was at the bottom, and Sharon was pumping her hips down into Kim’s, in earnest. Pumping and thrusting, and moaning, and all this frenzied action went on, and on, and on, until one, then the other, came, with their gushing pussies pumping with abandon, and earnest.

Sharon and Kim lay in bed, legs tangled, talking quietly with one another, and munching on the last of the strawberries.

“I can’t believe where my life is right now. I’m pregnant, and I’m in love with a woman.”

Kim couldn’t deny how she was feeling for her friend. She was in lust with her, she just couldn’t bring herself to say it to her. Although Kim couldn’t say that she was in love with Sharon, she couldn’t deny the feeling that there was nothing else in the world, that was more stimulating than being with another woman. She also couldn’t deny the strong feelings she had towards her friend.

“If somebody told me two weeks ago, that I would be doing this with you right now, I woulda called them crazy!”

They both laughed.

“For real, girl, and I woulda been laughing right along with them. This thing, it’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced,” Kim said. They smiled and examined each other’s faces, as if seeing each other for the first time. Sharon was still touching Kim’s face, admiring her.

“You know, I feel really lucky, to have you in my life. I never met a guy who I could feel this comfortable with.”
“Yeah, I feel you. I mean, how many guys do you know, that stay awake after they have an orgasm? We’re awake now!” Kim said, laughing.

Sharon smiled at Kim in a way that made her uncomfortable. It was that ‘love’ look. She wasn’t ready for the mushy stuff that women were ready for after the big ‘o’ occurred. Not with a female, anyway. Although she was striving to rid herself of the prissy ways she once cling to, it was still difficult to accept two women loving each other romantically.

Just as Kim was about to begin that pep talk with Sharon, the talk where she would tell her that she was not in love, she thought she heard the sound of the doorbell. Kim got out of bed hesitantly, hoping that it was not Paul, and wondering whom else it could be. Kim slipped on a robe, and went to the door. She stared through the peephole for a long moment. Shon was standing there, looking incredibly good. He rang the doorbell again, and Kim hesitated, but opened the door.

“Hey, babe girl, wassup?”
“What are you doing here?” Kim asked, as Shon walked inside passed her.
“Been thinkin’ ‘bout you from the other day. I was wonderin’ if you wanted to bump again. I am nasty, I’m not freaky though…I’m a nasty muthafucka.”

Shon was pulling her body closer hands on her waist.

“Come on, Shon. Chill.”
“Oh, I get it…personal space issues?”
“Yeah, I don’t want you up on me right now.”
“Why come, baby girl?”
“Look, I think you and Sharon oughta have a talk.”
“What do me and home girl have to talk about? I mean, she’s a nice girl and all…she was in the number one slot for a minute…but that slot’s for big girls. I like your big girl ways.”
“So you’re dumping Sharon?”
“We all gotta move on, baby girl, and do what makes us happy.”

He was trying to steal a kiss from Kim, who was still pushing him away. He was pulling on Kim’s arms, tugging her into him, and kissing the air, which should have been her neck.

“I’m pregnant,” Sharon announced, as she stood in the living room doorway, anger raging in her eyes. She stood there, wearing Kim’s white satin robe, with her arms crossed; her belly slightly protruded. Shon stood there, staring for a moment, with his mouth slightly open. Sharon walked slowly towards him, and he released Kim from his grasp. Sharon got in his face.

“Say what?”
“Pregnant, ho! And it’s yours!”
“Ain’t that a kick in the ass.”
“I see you out here tryin’ to move on with my girl. Well, you can move on elsewhere, and pay some child support, bitch!” Sharon was choked up with tears.

“Woah, woah, woah…calm yourself, baby girl. I’m not the only dude you been crushin’ with, am I? I just beat it up a little.”
“Yeah, Shon. You was the only dude gettin’ at me!”
“You sure?”
“Of course, stupid! You think I’m some kinda ho?”
“Well Sharon, you must be reading from a fucked-up script, if you think that I’m the daddy type.”

Sharon slapped Shon across the face, and he stood there, absorbing the blow. His face remained turned in the same direction Sharon slapped it in, and he glared at her with his peripherals.
“Shon, you ain’t nothin’ but a nasty, scanky, ho-assed muthafucka! Get ta steppin’. I’ll see you in court.”

Shon was too cool to walk fast, although by the look on their faces, they could have beaten the hell out of him. He wasted no time advancing to the door, but he did have the gall to turn to Kim, and give her one last thing to consider.

“Baby-girl, you can call me anytime—“
“Leave!” Kim yelled.

Smiling, Shon walked out the door. Kim looked at Sharon, and Sharon looked at Kim. At that moment, they realized that with the two most important men in their lives trippin’, all they had, all this unborn baby had, was themselves.

THIS SH*T AIN'T FOR KIDS

2006-01-18T23:08:00.000-05:00

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have you heard of the largest sex blog online?

2006-01-10T16:42:00.000-05:00

http://the1971bestestsexblog18part2.blogspot.com/

2006-01-02T13:54:00.000-05:00

My blog is worth $564.54.
How much is your blog worth?

HAVE YOU SEEN FACESITTER'S FLICKS?

2006-01-02T01:49:00.000-05:00

http://www.urbanslam.com/

HAPPY NEW YEAR

2006-01-02T01:31:00.000-05:00

IS MY BOOK OBSCENE?

2005-12-30T22:51:00.000-05:00

The definition of obscenity, according to the Supreme Court and known informally as the Miller test, is:

· must appeal to the prurient interest of the average person
· must describe sexual conduct in a way that is "patently offensive" to community standards, and
· when taken as a whole, it "must lack serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value"

Certain people (including parents and schoolteachers) have complained to us and stated that rotten.com should not be "allowed" on the net, since children can view images on our site.
One US schoolteacher wrote us a very angry email that complained some of her students had bookmarked images on this site, that our site shouldn't be on the net, and other claptrap.
This is our response. The net is not a babysitter! Children should not be roaming the Internet unsupervised any more than they should be roaming the streets of New York City unsupervised.
We cannot dumb the Internet down to the level of playground. Rotten dot com serves as a beacon to demonstrate that censorship of the Internet is impractical, unethical, and wrong. To censor this site, it is necessary to censor medical texts, history texts, evidence rooms, courtrooms, art museums, libraries, and other sources of information vital to functioning of free society.
Nearly all of the images which we have online are not even prurient, and would thus not fall under any definition of obscenity. Any images which we have of a sexual nature are in a context which render them far from obscene, in any United States jurisdiction. Some of the images may be offensive, but that has never been a crime. Life is sometimes offensive. You have to expect that.

The images we find most obscene are those of book burnings.
Please remember that no child has access to the Internet without the active consent of an adult. And absolutely no child should be left on the Internet alone. Supervision of children remains the responsibility of parents and teachers, as it always has and always will.

The rotten staff, May 1997.

WANT AD FOR PUBLISHER

2005-12-20T00:42:00.000-05:00

WANTED: A PUBLISHING HOUSE WITH BALLS BIG ENOUGH TO PUBLISH MY BOOK, "G-SPOT CHRONICLES."
NO SQUEAMISH, HOMOPHOBIC, ANTI-SEX, SCARDY-CATS NEED APPLY. INTERESTED PUBLISHERS NEED CONTACT FACESITTER WITH A REALISTIC DEAL, AT facesitter34@yahoo.com.

Count, Author Of DANGEROUSLY IN LOVE

2005-11-29T17:46:00.000-05:00

COMMENTS ON G-SPOT CHRONICLES:

"It's certainly time for the world to see your work no matter how you have to get it out here. You've got the hottest shit I've ever read." --

Count
Author of DANGEROUSLY IN LOVE
www.countkrewpublications.com

www.freeclassics.blogspot.com JOURNEYS OF THE MASTER PIECE

www.countsworld.blogsource.com THE PEOPLES BLOG

G-Spot Chronicles Update

2005-11-20T22:44:00.000-05:00

I've had some time on my hands. I decided to go over every chapter of the book, to make sure that it was as sexy as it could be. So far, it's working. Also, since the filmmakers changed and added some stuff to the short films, I decided to add some of that stuff to the book.

My husband keeps meeting people who could possibly be interested in the book, and other projects. Sharon Stone, and Terrence Howard, the dude from Cleveland. Wonder if he's been on Lee Avenue lately? Terrence, if you're readin' this, I have a gang of scripts and pitches for more up my sleeve...hit me up!

facesitter34@yahoo.com.

http://myvastwritingworld.blogspot.com

2005-11-15T15:36:00.000-05:00

G-Spot Chronicles Called The First Black Erotic Series

2005-11-02T14:56:00.000-05:00

Wanna get your copy of the DVD compilation that G-Spot Chronicles is a part of?
Go to www.musicsitemakers.com/projects/urban and order your copy, or call 1-800-864-0076.

This DVD compilation includes "Gully" with supermodel Tyson Beckford,who has appeared in "Biker Boyz" and "Zoolander"; "The Date", with Wendell Pierce, who appeared in HBO's "The Wire", "Brown Sugar", "Waiting to Exhale", "Get on the Bus" and "It Could Happen To You".There are plenty of other familiar faces, so check it out.

Urban S.L.A.M. is a project that Clarendon Entertainment has been developing for some time.

FACESITTER

Proud Moments

2005-10-27T13:57:00.000-04:00

"The Marriage Counselor" was the prelude to the Michael Baisden's "Love, Lust And Lies" documentary. The crowd was all warmed up by the time they saw the doc., after they saw the short. It was a proud day, to see the flick on the big screen. And a bigger thrill, to know that the film was competing in the 2005 Urban World Film Festival.I had another screening at NY PERKS and SUGAR, but I'll have to find those flyers.

An Interview With FACESITTER

2005-10-24T00:15:00.000-04:00

TO ORDER "THE MARRIAGE COUNSELOR" AND "THE ENGAGEMENT PARTY" ON DVD, contact FACESITTER at FACESITTER34@YAHOO.COM

When did you know you wanted to write?

I knew I wanted to write when I learned how to read. As a child, I was read to every day, and I often wished for the day to come, when I could decode the words, and create stories of my own. In the 8th grade, I wrote an erotic letter to a guy as a practical joke, and landed myself in hot water. Then in college, I started writing the erotic stuff. But I write in other genres, too.

How did you come to realize you wanted to write erotic fiction?

Zane came out with these boring, clichéd books, and I knew I could do better.

How many books have you written and what are their names?

Deadbeat, which is about this guy who gets labeled as a deadbeat dad, and the lengths he goes, to evade paying child support. I'd like to see this become a film. Then there’s DL LIVES, which deals with this down low phenomena, in relation to families and friendships.
None of these books (including G-Spot Chronicles) have been published, so for now, I'm just fine-tuning them for publication in the mean time.

I’m working on a few short film concepts and comedies,too. A project that is very dear to me is PICNIC: A TRILOGY, which is a short film effort depicting three Black persons being lynched. The trilogy will begin with Sam Hose, who was accused of murder by conflicting accounts, and lynched. A lot of these stories have never had any exposure. Certainly black filmmakers are staying away from this topic.

Can you give me a summary of your latest book?

G-Spot Chronicles is is a 70,000-word chronological erotic narrative of the sex lives of friends and acquaintances, living in Bed-Sty Brooklyn. It targets 20-something and 30-something readers, and curious onlookers of any adult capacity, who want an unedited bird’s eye account of how these unique African-American friends mix friendship with pleasure. (http://thegspotchroniclesbook.blogspot.com)

What sources do you draw upon to tell your stories?

I built one of my characters on a neighbor, who was kinda loose with her body. Most people who read G-Spot Chronicles like her the best. But mostly, I cook up characters, by thinking of the kinds of people I’d like to know. Every now and then, I might put my own characteristics/faults in a character, things I want to change about myself.

Most of your protagonists are women. Do you plan to write a novel from the male perspective?

I actually have men in G-Spot Chronicles. I try to provide the reader with both perspectives into this thing called “Black Love”.

Your short stories are being made into films. Is there someplace we can see them?

To get your copy of the dvds, contact me at facesitter71@yahoo.com.

There was a screening on May 17th at Sugar (311 Church Street, NYC) and it screened at NY Perks in Brooklyn. It'll have screenings all summer long. It competed in the 2005 Urban World Film Festival, too. It preceeded Michael Baisden's "Love, Lust And Lies Documentary."

Who were your influences in terms of literature?

Dean R. Koontz, Stephen King, Anaïs Nin, Millie Jackson, Eric Jerome Dickey, and various erotic writers from the erotic collection entitled, Erotic Noir/Black Erotica.

Bangin’ collection. Why should people be interested in your style of erotic fiction?

Because I’m not writing lullabies. I’m writing fire starters. I’m not trying to write things that will fit right into the mold that the publishing world creates for this type of fiction. I’m making my mark, without making any apologies.

2005-10-23T23:30:00.000-04:00

2005-10-22T18:33:00.000-04:00

Search Engine Submitter

2005-10-22T18:15:00.000-04:00

Power Moves

2005-10-09T22:31:00.000-04:00

Clarendon Entertainment is doing two more stories from the book. How does this grab you: the CD that accompanies the book. I've got a good feeling about this, people.

I'll keep you posted!
FACESITTER

Screenings And Stuff

2005-10-02T15:57:00.000-04:00

I went to this screening, and was floored. THE Vanessa Williams played the role of a mother, and I was convinced. If you love black films, check them out!

G-Spot Chronicles Lives

2005-09-13T22:36:00.000-04:00

I'm working on getting G-Spot published myself, 'cause I've been in the ring, fightin' kids, when I need to be in here with grown folk. I heard that Terri Woods (True To The Game) did her book herself, and that there were lots of typos. That would break my heart, so this has gotta be good. But I'm savin' my pennies, so I can make this thing possible on my own. I think I'll feel a lot better about the book, too, if I do it myself. My mama always told me, "If you want somethin' right, you gotta do it yourself."

You Just Wanna Fuck Me

2005-09-02T19:31:00.000-04:00

It's been over a month, so it's time to show the dingy part of my ass, and mention a certain publishing company that is unprofessional, and cheap. Q-Boro Books got scared, 'cause I didn't wanna get fucked on a hard bench for cheap, with no vaseline. The contract was so wack, I laughed out-loud while I read it. I kept my cool, though; told him point blank, what I wasn't gonna give it up for a lousy $2000. Clarendon Entertainment bought two chapters of the book for half that...an entire book's gotta be worth more of an advance. Here are the e-mails that we exchanged, before he fell off the face of the Earth:

----- Original Message -----
From: "Mark Anthony"
To: facesitter71@yahoo.com
Subject: Re: sample contract
Date: Sun, 31 Jul 2005 11:58:45 -0400

Facesitter,

Everybody that I tell the title to (G-Spot Chronicles) say that it sounds too similar to Zane's Sex Chronicles

How open would you be to another title? Keep the word G-Spot but substitute the word Chronicles with another word.

G-Spot Journal
G-Spot Confessions
G-Spot Tales

I thinks G-Spot Confessions would work really good. Let me know what you think.

Mark

MY RESPONSE WAS:

----- Original Message -----
From: FACESITTER
To: Mark Anthony
Sent: Sunday, July 31, 2005 1:20 PM
Subject: Re: sample contract

Hi Mark,

I went over the contract, and I wasn't too happy. The percentages to the author were too low, (royalties) especially for the rights included. And most of those rights, I would never sell. Also, some of the language is vague. I also would want more at signing, and more overall. I sold two short stories for $1000. The whole book's worth more.
As far as the title, no, I'm not open to any of those other titles. What my audience is anticipating is "G-Spot Chronicles". It's not a journal, or a confessionary book. It's a chronicle of friends in Brooklyn.
Let me know what you think.

The Best,
FACESITTER

HIS RESPONSE WAS:

----- Original Message -----
From: "Mark Anthony"
To: "FACESITTER"
Subject: Re: sample contract
Date: Sun, 31 Jul 2005 17:21:12 -0400

What's up Facesitter?

As far as the language of the contract goes, you can take it to any legal person or any person in the publishing industry and they will tell you that it is more than fair in terms of nothing ever being able to hurt you and it not being geared towards the publishing company. As far as percentages (royalties), 85% of publishing companies pay royalties based off the Net amount that they receive back from the distributors which in most cases is roughly $7. So they may give you 10% of the net amount which works out to 70 cents per book and I have seen contracts pay authors as low as 24 cents per book.

For companies that pay based on a percentage of the retail price as we do, the industry average for paperback books is 7 - 10% (you can ask around and you see). There really isn't much room to go higher than that and if a company goes higher than that, I can bet you that they probably won't be around long enough to ever pay out any royalties because they will go bankrupt.

Any language that you want to read more clear we can definitely do that, but as far as the advance we can not really go much higher and keep in mind that many companies do not pay any advances at all. Any rights that you want to keep you can list those and that shouldn't be a problem. I understand your reservation on the title and it can stay G-Spot Chronicles.

You can call me or email me.

Mark

MY RESPONSE WAS:

----- Original Message -----
From: FACESITTER
To: Mark Anthony
Sent: Monday, August 01, 2005 11:12 AM
Subject: Re: sample contract

Hello Mark,
1- How much higher can we go?
2- The following rights are non-negotiable:
Page 6 of the contract, section (i): all of those rights, (A) thru (M).
3- For $2,000, I'm only willing to have the book published.
4- And as far as copies to the author, I think I'm entitled to 100 free copies.
5- I would not want the book to be used as a vehicle for advertisements, either. (page 13, "INSERT OF ADVERTISEMENTS")
6- PUBLICATION- The publication date, and the decision to publish should be clear-cut. There are too many "ifs" as far as the publication of the book. If we are at the point in the game where we are signing a contract, any statements about the publisher not publishing should be omitted. Furthermore, if the publisher does not publish, the author should be paid for the time that they wasted with the negotiating, etc. of the deal.
7- I also believe that I should recieve $1,000 at signing, not $500.
These things may be too much of a hassle for you, since you are in this for the business end. I am in it for the love and appreciation for books. I know I'm worth more. I will always request what I feel is fair for both ends, and what I deserve as the writer of the book.
The Best,

FACESITTER

I wrote him again, since I didn't think my previous e-mail was strong enough:

I participated in the Publishing Program at City College for a reason: That was, to learn about the business of publishing, because I know I'm a great storyteller, erotic or otherwise. I wanted to learn the ins and outs, so that I would not be "taken". If I sign your contract as is, I will be taken.

I anticipated a fair contract from a writer, because writers love their work, like a mother loves a child. You told me that you were "taken", and I'm sure you didn't like it.

All those rights to the publisher for $2,000? My teacher warned me about those kind of deals.
As far as the book being titled "G-Spot Chronicles", Zane is actually about to write a book with a title very similar to mine, which she bit from me! I may not be famous, but I've been advertising my book title for almost 2 years online. I have an online following.

Mark, this isn't going to work out, the way it's looking. I wrote an erotic book. Erotic books don't have to have a moral, or a point. They can just be entertaining. You have a right to decide who you publish, granted. But I also have a right to not allow my book to be butchered, or altered to fit other opinions.
Thanks for your time and consideration, but I'll be seeking publishing elsewhere.

The Best,
FACESITTER

HIS RESPONSE WAS:

----- Original Message -----
From: FACESITTER
To: Mark Anthony
Sent: Monday, August 01, 2005 11:12 AM
Subject: Re: sample contract

Facesitter, I have to rush to a meeting in Manhattan and when I get back i will respond in more detail, but everything thing you discussed is very doable. As far as the publication date, that was just a sample of what the wording will say, but I make it a point to be very specific on the final contract (ie. I can name the exact month the the book will be published and I will be bound by that date.) Insert of advertisments (this is generally to cross promote other Q-Boro Books titles, similar to how we would cross promote your book in other Q-Boro Books publications (it increases your sales). Other outside advertsisements would not fall under this, that would be something that you and I would have to discuss and if agreed upon there would be a split in any revenue from that.
But again, I dont want to respond sporadic. I will rrespond in more detail when I get back. But I undertsand your position as an artist, trust me I do.

I never heard from that dude again. AIN'T THAT A BLIP?

Thank God I hear from other publishers all the time, or else I would be at my whits end. About twelve other companies are reviewing my manuscript, so I'm playing the waiting game.

I heard from a publisher (not mentioning any names) last night that said they're a hybrid publisher, and that they're interested in the book, but I gotta pay a lot of the expenses. That's like a booty call, where I gotta buy the condoms. The question is, do I go for it? What would you do, if you were in my shoes?

Meanwhile, Clarendon Entertainment wants to do more movies. How does that song go: " Sittin' on top of the world?"

A Message From A Friend:

SORRY FOR THE SORRY SON OF A GUN , WHO LEAD YOU ON REFERENCE PUBLISHING YOUR BOOK... SO FAR I LIKE WHAT I HAVE READ, AND BABY YOU WILL GO FAR!

What's Wrong With 'Porn On Paper'?

2005-08-31T13:20:00.000-04:00

One thing I know, from immersing myself in the world of sex writing and sex, is that sex is the one thing 99.9% of humans, amphibians, insects and animals do. It’s an instinct to wanna have an orgasm.

I keep hearing from folks in the publishing world, that my writing is too ‘edgy’, gritty if you will. In a brief moment of desperation to be published, I have tried to edit the sex; make it soft and floral for the hypocrites who want me to believe that they have soft, romantic, unerotic, unlustful sex, with no dirty talk, and moaning or animal noises. Are they fooling themselves, ‘cause they’re not fooling me. It's impossible for me to ‘smooth it out’, and make the language different. The work is supposed to be hard. Sex starts out soft, sure, but how does it end up? When you cum, do you slip it in and out slowly, or bang the pussy? Women who like women: do you grind slowly, or when the moment is approaching, do you mentally scream, and grind with all your might?

Maybe I do write porn on paper; maybe nothing's wrong with porn. Who doesn't watch porn?? I think people are afraid to face outright words and real language when it comes to sex, and I'm not interested in catering to those fears. Not in the least. As a future publisher myself, I have no quams about publishing porn, so say hello to a black female Husler prodigy. Larry Flynt with dark skin, locks and a twat.

Ev'rybody and their mama is interested in sex (including mine) so the market is broad.
Thanks in advance for your feedback. I hope you’ll do the same for me, as I do for you: tell it like it is. I think that’s important in writing, to be realistic. Smoothing out is not in my vocabulary, and my readers like my work, like they like their sex: raw and hard.

Vickie "Lyric" sent me this message, dated September 1, 2005:

Be true to self, even as others are busy faking the funk.Raw or
not.Zane didn't get props, she got ridiculed first.keeping integrity as
writers,our work find its way into the hands,hearts & minds, of the readers
we are trying to touch.Don't shy away from your style.

Lyric

Blog: G-Spot Chronicles, The Book
Post: What's Wrong With 'Porn On Paper'?

Love From My Sistas At BBLSS

2005-08-31T00:03:00.000-04:00

Ms O, aka Facesitter...Ghurl I am loving your link below..I wish they
would stop playing and publish your book...WOW sugah, your "G-spot
Chronicles" is very informative and salacious, Petra, Raymond, Cassandra and
the other characters...damn I want to read more....LOL I loved
it....It was Absofreakinglious...I would certainly publish you and market your
tail off, if that was possible....

The Anatomy Of The Clitoris

2005-08-24T00:23:00.000-04:00

by Leslie Hall

Unlike the penis, of which it is usually described as the female homologue, the clitoris does not enjoy an array of nicknames, euphemisms or slang terms. There is even some controversy as to its pronunciation, whether this should be clitt-oris or cly-toris, dictionaries vary and some give both as correct (although the OED prefers 'cly-toris) but this means that there is still a decision to be made which may cause hesitation in referring to this organ in speech. The derivation of the word is commonly alleged to derive from the Greek 'Kleis' meaning key but there is some philological debate about this, as discussed in a 1937 article by Professor Marcel Cohen reprinted by Thomas Power Lowry in The Classic Clitoris (1978).

The anatomy of the clitoris was described in 1559 by Renaldus Columbus of Padua, who claimed that previous anatomists had overlooked the very existence of 'so pretty a thing'. His primacy was however contested by another eminent anatomist of Padua, Gabrielo Fallopio. Although they claimed to have discovered this organ, since antiquity there had been a powerful belief that mutual orgasm was necessary for conception, which suggests that, though unnamed, the clitoris was known to be there. Like his namesake, Renaldus had discovered something that had been there all the time, if not named or mapped, and which other people (though not, perhaps, the people he would recognise as colleagues) and other traditions had already known about.

The clitoris is, to the outward appearance, a tiny organ which even the woman to whom it belongs may find difficulty in seeing, unless with the aid of a mirror (unless she is very flexible). It may be so concealed as only to come into view when the labia majora or outer lips of the vagina are separated. Located above the vaginal and urethral openings, it is structurally connected to the labia minora or inner lips of the vagina. The visible glans of the clitoris, which is hooded by a prepuce formed by the meeting of the labia minora, is, however, only the outward and visible manifestation of much more extensive structures of erectile tissue, which form a padding over the pubic bone. These concealed parts are anatomically continuous with and functionally linked to the vagina. The whole structure is densely packed with nerve endings: although there are a similar number to those of the penis, they are much more concentrated and closer together. It may be noted that although anatomically speaking, the clitoris is homologous to the penis, the female genitalia are far more differentiated than those of the male: instead of one organ which conveys sperm, urine and is the source of sexual pleasure, a woman has three different parts for these distinct purposes. When erotically stimulated the clitoris becomes engorged and erectile; when a high degree of arousal is reached it retracts, with the effect that it appears to have reduced in size. Vaginal lubrication takes place along with the engorgement of the outer part of the vagina. When sexual excitement reaches its peak orgasm takes place with rhythmic contractions of the clitoris and vagina. Unlike men, women have the capacity for multiple orgasm without an intervening refractory period.

The appearance of the external glans of the clitoris is very various. In some women it may be quite noticeable and an obvious analogue to the penis, in others it may be small and barely visible. Although these are innate physiological characteristics, the size of the clitoris has been assumed to relate to the sexual activity of the female, and to be excessively developed by masturbation or indulgence in lesbian practices. Successive editions of a standard British textbook of forensic medicine rather gratuitously (since female homosexuality has never been in itself a crime in Britain) included a photograph of a 'tribade's' clitoris well into the middle of the twentieth century.

The role of the clitoris in orgasm has been the subject of very heated controversy. Although for centuries it had been known by medical and religious authorities in Europe that titillating the clitoris had a beneficial effect on conjugal relations, rendering them more pleasant and more likely to be fertile, from the later eighteenth century this information apparently became increasingly hidden. Popular handbooks which went on being reprinted in the nineteenth century underwent expurgation and referred, if at all, much more generally to the necessity of mutual caresses and pleasure between the married couple. However, although the arousing role of the clitoris had been recognised, and even that a woman might bring about an orgasm by self-stimulation if her husband failed to give her an orgasm through intercourse, the assumption was very persistent that if women masturbated, they did so with a dildo in order to mimic penetrative intercourse. (Even today, although most women employ vibrators for clitoral stimulation, a large number of the models available vary in shape from the generally phallic to the hyper-realistically penile.) This supposition extended to the idea of women having sex with one another, conceived of as either impossible or else involving this substitution. There are some grounds, however, for believing that there may well have been an oral, mainly women's culture, which, if it could not scientifically name and describe the clitoris, nevertheless knew about its significance. This, however, was increasingly eroded by the rise of a print culture privileging published writings, the vast majority of which were by men, and a variety of other social changes including increasing levels of privacy and class separation.

A new ethos of mutual sexual pleasure in marriage arose during the early twentieth century: though shared pleasure had been an ideal in the Victorian era, repression and ignorance meant that it had not always been achieved even with the best intentions. Authors of marriage manuals emphasised the important contribution of the clitoris to the sexual arousal and satisfaction of the woman, even going so far as to suggest, in some cases, that the bridegroom should give his wife her first orgasm by manual stimulation before proceeding to defloration. Even so, clitoral stimulation was seen as something ancillary to penetrative heterosexual intercourse, which was defined as the central conjugal act.

The clitoris received, as it were, a setback as a result of the wide acceptance and popularisation of Freudian psychoanalytic ideas. According to this, clitoral stimulation was immature and masculine in its nature (though it may well be doubted that little girls relate this concealed if sensitive spot to the penis, if they have ever seen a penis) , and to be truly women, women needed to abandon clitoral pleasures and effect a transfer to achieving orgasm vaginally. This theory was contested by a developing school of empirical sex research, though it should be noted that marriage advice manuals continued to stress the importance of clitoral stimulation, at least until the wife's sexual responsiveness was 'fully developed'. Alfred Kinsey, in his study of the sex life of the American female (published in 1953), noted the vast difference in sensitivity between the vaginal wall and the clitoris and labia minora. (William) Masters and (Virginia) Johnson observed sexual interactions in a laboratory setting, and on the basis of these observations, which involved various technological devices to measure arousal and orgasm, they concluded that orgasm was always clitoral: even if the clitoris was not being directly stimulated indirect stimulation was taking place as a result of friction from the pulling on the labia caused by penile thrusting during intercourse. Vaginal contractions were one manifestation of the orgasm produced by the clitoris.

These findings came out in 1966, contemporaneously with the enormous social changes which led to the 'second wave' of feminism and the short-lived 'Sexual Revolution'. Women found that this research supplied them with a way of describing experiences which had been neglected or distorted by the masculine assumption that the acme of sexual pleasure consisted of penis-in-vagina thrusting (in probably the majority of cases quite uninfluenced by psychoanalytic ideas of the superior maturity of the vaginal over the clitoral orgasm). Works such as Danish author Mette Ejlersen's I Accuse! (British edition 1969) and Anne Koedt's 1970 article 'The Myth of the Vaginal Orgasm' made a forceful if anecdotal case for the preceding obliteration of women's actual experience. Shere Hite's more extensive (though methodologically much criticised survey), published as The Hite Report in 1976 to enormous publicity, revealed the importance of clitoral stimulation to women's sexual pleasure. The notion was disseminated in a range of popular publications, handbooks on women's health from a feminist perspective, works of sexual advice, and also in numerous novels taking advantage of a new explicitness to describe female sexual experience.

However, other sex researchers have contested the conclusion that there is only one kind of orgasm, suggesting that, at least to subjective experience, some women do have orgasms which they describe as 'vaginal' or 'uterine' from penetrative intercourse, which are qualitatively distinct from those achieved through specific clitoral stimulation. The connotation of immaturity has been lifted from the clitoral orgasm, and there is some evidence that women who prefer vaginal orgasms tend to be more passive, dependent, and anxious. It can be argued that the focus of attention on the clitoris has perhaps elided the contribution to sexual pleasure and orgasm of the sensitive erectile tissues of the rest of the vulva.

Although the clitoris is such a small and apparently insignificant organ, there are and have been widespread conceptions that it is dangerous and threatening. There are substantial areas of the world today , in Africa and the Middle East, in which clitoridectomy is still routinely practised on ritual and hygienic grounds*, though the number of cultures which practice it are far fewer than those in which some kind of circumcision of the penis is performed on boy children or youths in transition to manhood. The practice is deeply embedded in national and religious cultures and has proved very difficult to extirpate, attempts to do so having caused crises for colonial powers in Africa. While many of the cultures which practice it are Islamic, clitoridectomy is not coterminous with the Muslim world, being found among other religious groups in the regions in which it is common, and not being practised in all Islamic nations.

Clitoridectomy takes different forms, from a relatively minor removal of a small amount of flesh from the tip of the clitoris to almost complete extirpation, along with other practices such as infibulation and sewing up of the labia. The effect of the subsequent sexual life of the women involved of this mutilating operation is usually assumed to be deleterious in the extreme, although there is a little, perhaps rather anecdotal, ethnographic evidence that some women who have undergone clitoridectomy are nevertheless capable of experiencing orgasm. This may depend upon how much of the underlying concealed erectile tissue remains. The trauma of the operation, performed normally on young girls around the age of eight without anaesthetic by traditiona1 practitioners, must be considerable. Subsequent infection and scarring can have long-term implications for future fertility and safety in childbirth. Such an operation is regarded as reprehensible and unethical by Western medicine, although there have been cases of private practitioners performing the operation under surgical conditions in the United Kingdom for members of cultures in whom it is regarded as an essential attribute of the marriageable female.

However, there is no reason for an attitude of complacent superiority. During the 1860s the British surgeon Isaac Baker Brown performed an unknown number of clitoridectomies at his London Surgical Home. He believed that female masturbation was widely prevalent and the cause of a number of nervous ailments, including epilepsy, a point of view he advanced in his book On the Curability of Certain Forms of Insanity, Epilepsy, Catalepsy and Hysteria in Females (1866). The operation was however widely regarded as mutilating and shocking (especially given Baker Brown's rather cavalier attitude towards consent) and in 1867 he was expelled from the London Obstetrical Society and the London Surgical Home was closed. Baker Brown subsequently became insane. Clitoridectomy in Britain never recovered from this and did not become part of the medical repertoire, although it went on being practised, to an extent which it is probably impossible to ascertain, in the United States well into the twentieth century. While the excesses of the advocates of 'Orificial Surgery', which advocated excising the clitoris as the remedy for a range of ailments, were probably not typical, as late as 1936 Holt's Diseases of Infancy and Childhood was not averse to recommending circumcision or cauterisation of the clitoris as a cure for masturbation in girls. These might be extreme options but there were certainly devices available to prevent girl children (and, it is possible, more mature women) gaining access to their clitorises for self-stimulation.

Surgery of the clitoris still takes place. There are, of course, various legitimate medical reasons for operating on this organ, e.g. various forms of malignancy, but they are fairly rare.** These days the clitoris is not, in Western medicine, excised to take away the unruly sexual desires of women, but adjusted to make it more conformable to the demands of penetrative intercourse. It has been observed that in most coital positions, when the penis is in the vagina there is infrequently also direct stimulation of the clitoris, without the intervention of hands (or devices such as 'French ticklers'). Operations have been reported endeavouring to relocate the clitoris somewhere where it will be more likely to received stimulation from simple penile thrusting, nearer the vaginal entrance. The equivalent to circumcision of the penis has also been performed, trimming back the clitoral hood to expose the glans to increase 'sensitivity'. Alleged 'adhesions' have also been removed. The value of these operations is exceedingly dubious. They reflect a mechanistic approach to sexual functioning similar to the use of vaginal dilators for spastic contraction of the vagina: altering or trying to alter the female genitals to make them conform to the cultural norm rather than recognising that the cultural norm has ignored the requirements of the female genitalia.

Perceptions of, and attitudes towards, the clitoris, provide a powerful reflection of wider societal attitudes to female sexuality, whether this is seen as so dangerous that it must be eradicated, or simply needing to be brought into a greater complementarity with male sexual needs.

**But in North America (at least) when a child is born with a large clitoris (medically defined as > 3/8 inch stretched length at birth), it is standard practice to remove most of the tissue, in a modified clitorectomy (though doctors no longer use that now disgraced word; now it is called a "clitoroplasty" or "clitoral reduction"). This is discussed on the website of the Intersex Society of North America

G-Spot Chronicles Synopsis

2005-08-20T20:15:00.000-04:00

Written by FACESITTER
© 2004 Ocean Koné AKA Marsha Lewis

According to the World Health Organization, more than a hundred million sex acts take place every day. With the constantly rising biological need for sex, grows a yearning to read more about sex. The Black erotic book market is exploding, but some of those markets are still afraid to dish out the ‘real deal Holyfield’ in the sexuality department.

As FACESITTER, I have written “G-Spot Chronicles”, a hot new Black book series. As a matter of fact, Clarendon Entertainment, an independent film company, has created two short film adaptations from G-Spot Chronicles: “The Marriage Counselor”, (adapted from “Love, Ghetto Style”, the opening chapter of the book,) and “The Marriage Counselor,” (adapted from “Welfare Queen.”) Other chapters from the book are in consideration for production. And I’m still not published.

That’s because “G-Spot Chronicles” is not your typical book. “G-Spot Chronicles” is a 70,000-word chronological erotic narrative of the sex lives of friends and acquaintances, living in Bed-Sty Brooklyn. It targets 20-something and 30-something readers, and curious onlookers of any adult capacity, who want an unedited bird’s eye account of how these unique African-American friends mix friendship with pleasure. Each chapter is connected to a new erotic tale of gratifying sex, the desire for it, and a great plot that ties it all together. Black eroticism is an unexplored motif, and this book promises to give the reader accurate erotic depictions without the distraction of stereotypes.

The chronicles begin with Raymond, who is struggling to end his highly erratic, distressing, ‘drauma-cidal’ yet pleasurable relationship with Cassandra, a woman he is deeply infatuated with sexually. Only Cassandra doesn’t make this conceivable, with her mouth-watering demeanor, and her unwillingness to give back the keys. Raymond and Cassandra are at the cross roads of their relationship, due to her scandalous, cheating ways.

Then there’s Kim: newly divorced from Paul, undersexed, and icy. She is secretly on a quest for her sexual self, and answers to her inner pleas for gratification and sexual exploration. Kim is a young lady, who is restricted sexually by her virtues. She’s on the brink of being released from her protective, prudish shell, thanks to an online lover, Remi.

Her best friend Sharon, is a quiet, secretive erotic dancer, who gets involved with Shon, a porn publisher and womanizer; a man she desired for a long time, sexually. Together Kim and Sharon share sexual experiences that surprise them endlessly…

Petra is the whore of the bunch, and of the entire borough of Brooklyn. Making her mark in life, with her slew of sex parties, where she is the only female participant, receiving all the attention. She is a shameless home wrecker, with an agenda no one knows about. Petra is the welfare queen, who refuses to slow down her promiscuous ways, and constantly leaps into the pool of male testosterone, with both eyes wide shut.

Kareem is a slick-talking, seemingly quiet dude, with sex constantly on the brain. He and Raymond swap stories, out-doing one another’s narrative experiences every time.

The summer months are dominated by a good plot and hot, scandalous, etched-in-your- mind sex. Memorable sex exploits are what epitomize G-Spot Chronicles.

“G-Spot Chronicles” is the first of the “G-Spot” compilation. I am hard at work on “G-Spot 2: The Chronicles Continue”, and other “Chronicles” are following close behind, with an emphasis on sex, plot, detail and nasty grit. It is my hope that G-Spot Chronicles is the beginning of a Black erotic empire.

FACESITTER
E-mail: facesitter34@yahoo.com.

The Male G-Spot

2005-08-19T15:15:00.000-04:00

"What is the Male G-Spot?"

Male G-Spot? Is there such a thing? The answer is an unequivocal "YES." Quite simply, the Male G-Spot is the prostate, or more specifically, the prostate-perineum. What are they? The prostate is the male prostate gland, and the perineum is a dime-sized soft spot between the anus and scrotum. The important nerves that control the sexual organs, including those controlling erection, orgasm, and ejaculation, converge at the prostate and the perineum area. This means that this area is essentially a man's "command center" for sexual pleasure. Massaging the prostate has been a way to maintain and increase sexual health for men since ancient times. Men who suffer from prostate diseases such as prostatitis and bph can get relief from these problems through regular prostate massages, usually given manually by a urologist.

So what does this have to do with the Aneros?

The medically researched and designed Aneros was originally created to safely and effectively massage the prostate, relieve congested prostate fluid, and promote general prostate health. It is anatomically tailored to the male body. When it was initially released, the Aneros worked like designed and greatly improved the quality of lives for many of our customers. However, in addition to reporting improved prostate health, many of our users reported experiencing unbelievable orgasms and unique pleasure that, while different from a traditional penile orgasm, could only be described as "orgasmic."

Non-ejaculatory, full-body shaking, continuous orgasms which can come in waves of minutes at a time are possible with the Aneros.

We've had many users report that in the midst of their orgasms their beds shake uncontrollably, they lose all sense of time, and that they make "fierce" animal noises. "Growl like a bear" seems to be a popular reaction to the pleasure received from using the Aneros.

Our enthusiasts have said that the "Super Orgasms" received from using the Aneros Massager are on a completely different level, both physically and spiritually, from traditional penile orgasms. However, using the Aneros and a penile orgasm are not mutually exclusive. In fact, many couples use the Aneros during intercourse. Because the Aneros also promotes sexual health, the Aneros has been reported to have a "Viagra-like" effect during intercourse and also enhances the strength of a traditional orgasm.

Doctor G.com

Different Types of Orgasm

2005-08-19T15:08:00.000-04:00

by Patricia Taylor, Ph.D.

In order to clearly identify the different kinds of orgasms, you must learn to make orgasmic distinctions. Once you understand these distinctions, you will be able to identify what kind of orgasm you are having. If you can identify the direction in which you want to move, you can flow from wherever you are to expanded orgasm - or to regular or extended orgasm. But it all starts with knowing what is on the map.

When presented as textbook definitions alone, these distinctions seem a little dry. Therefore for each, I give a factual definition, and a "feeling" definition as well. And for those of you who like to "see" things, I have added a visual definition, too.

Regular Orgasm

Factual explanation: An orgasm in which climax is the goal. The climax is usually a series of ten to twelve contractions over several seconds. This climax is commonly called "going over the edge." The climax feels extremely good, though brief, and there is often a physical and mental letdown period immediately afterwards. It can be an effective tension release, and, of course, it can create a sense of bonding with your partner.

Feeling explanation: There you were on the dance floor. Suddenly, the DJ played your favorite song. Your partner swept you into his arms, and the two of you danced the perfect dance. At the very crescendo, he whirled you gracefully around, and the world around you transformed into a spinning sea of color, sound, and breeze. Your heart sang in joyful innocence. After several seconds he gradually brought you back into the regular cadence of the dance, which ended soon afterwards.

Visual interpretation: A single mountain peak. You are climbing higher and higher in sensation, until you go over the edge (climax), and then you begin to descend down the other side.

Multiple Orgasm
Factual explanation: Multiple orgasms are a series of regular orgasms experienced over a short period of time. Usually there is only a partial letdown after each orgasm or climax, before climbing up again, to go over another peak. The peaks remain at about the same level of intensity.

Feeling explanation: Your partner tonight is terrific, a real Fred Astaire. He danced that perfect tango with you, only to sweep you off your feet soon afterwards, in a fantastic fox trot. Another winner! And then, the two of you melted into a tantalizing and seductive rumba. You could have won an international contest for that one. And then a whirling waltz, and then, … could there be any more to dance from this point on? Yes, a final dance, the terrific, frantic, electrifying two-step that swept you up and down the dance floor so many times, you lost count. At last, you both rested. Tired but gratified, there were many swirling highlights to remember from this evening.

Visual interpretation: A range of mountain peaks. You go up and over the edge once, come down somewhat but not all the way, and then go up and over again (second climax). You climax to about the same altitude with each climax. At some point, you descend down the other side.

Extended Orgasm

Factual explanation: Extended orgasm is a single orgasm that maintains the level of pleasurable sensation at climax over a period of time. The climax is often rounded or flat like a plateau. There’s no limit in length of time; however, one does need to build up the length of extended orgasm. With practice, many people plateau for an hour or more.

Feeling explanation: You decided to go to a new dance hall. The music seemed to go on and on, and soon, you fell into a sort of trance dance. Your partner led, until even that seemed irrelevant. You were in the dance of the music together. There was a certain point, a certain drumbeat, where you looked into one another’s eyes, and time stopped. You catapulted into a space defined by the fires of a compelling pleasure filling every nook and cranny of your being. For some time, you swirled around, as if gravity no longer existed, and only your desires to touch one another kept the two of you together. After a very long time, you found yourself slowly feeling the floor beneath you, and the rhythms of the dance once again became something you moved to voluntarily.

Visual interpretation: A mountain with a very long plateau, like a great mesa. You climb up to the top. Instead of going over the edge in a short peak, you linger up there, at the edge, for a long while, before heading down the other side. For single extended orgasms, there is one mountain peak. For multiple extended orgasms, there are several mountains, each with its own plateau.

Expanded Orgasm

Factual explanation: Expanded orgasm is a path of expanding both sensual awareness and consciousness while receiving genital stimulation. Expanded orgasm uses one’s own pathways of body, mind, emotion, and spirit to create maximum expansion opportunities. The goal (and focus) of receiving expanded orgasm is simply to feel as much of that pleasure as possible.

Think of filling a container in such a way that not only does the container become more full, but also where the container itself expands. The distinguishing expansion is in the sense of space. There is the sense of one’s entire body experiencing the orgasm, of reaching for an even larger being in which to put all that orgasmic pleasure. In contrast, Regular orgasms are felt primarily in the physical domain.

Expanded orgasms are an added dimension of experience during regular, multiple, and extended orgasm. A regular orgasm, for example, can also be an expanded one. The expanded experience is felt in the body, mind, emotions, and spirit, all at once. The focus is on the entire experience, and not just going over the edge.

You can experience expanded orgasm immediately after the session begins, or later in the session. It starts when one becomes aware of the expansion occurring. Think of expanded orgasm as a domain, a state of being, a realm of consciousness, a condition of feeling everywhere.

When you enter the expanded orgasm state, two things occur simultaneously.

· First, you leave your normal everyday waking state, in which your mental state, your physical state, your emotional state, and your spiritual state are typically separate.

· Second, you enter the expanded orgasm state, where all of these parts of yourself reconnect into one whole experience of yourself.

Feeling explanation: You start with mutual touching and the electricity between you spreads, coursing through your blood and nerves. You are dancing; it matters not where, or to what music. From the moment of contact, your beings merge. The energy of your combined connection fills your body, and expands beyond you two to fill the room. The awareness of all the sensations of sound, sight, touch, taste, and smell fill your dance with further delights. Whether you whirl, or pull away, only to return, you are locked in an energetic pas de deux, glued together in the rapture of the moment, until some unknown future you know not when. At some point, filled with the delights of this dance…or will it be ten dances…. you float back to the floor. You thank your partner with your broad, bright smile and notice him glowing with ecstasy as well.

Visual interpretation: Picture yourself, receiving orgasmic stimulation at a central point of input, possibly the genitals. Then picture that sensation radiating out like a glowing ember over the rest of your body, in pulsating waves. Or, picture tossing stones, in rapid succession, into the same place in a still pond. The ripples extend and expand in waves, gently outward. With increasing numbers of stones, the waves build in energy, and extend increasingly further out, until the whole pond is filled with waves lapping up upon the shores.

The Deal With Female Ejaculation

2005-08-19T14:58:00.000-04:00

Men and boys long have enjoyed ejaculation as their exclusive domain. Popularly considered a bastion of male sexual expression (indeed, a benchmark of masculine sexual fulfillment, the visual exclamation point for "successful" coupling, and an expression of fraternal competitiveness a la the circle jerk), ejaculation has been the symbolic differentiation between those of us who are done to, and those of us who do. But now women are telling stories of their own ejaculatory experiences. In fact, they're positively crowing about it, and rightly so. For years we have been complicit in denying our ability to experience the many forms of orgasm available to us. We have a long history of being told we needn't worry our pretty little heads about things like sex. We'd be told what we needed to know. It's Not Just for Boys Anymore!

And ''told' we were! The Victorians pronounced that women were innately uninterested in sex, an unfortunate legacy that still influences our attitudes and behaviors. Freud upended that theory, but proclaimed the clitoral orgasm 'immature.' The sexual revolution of the Sixties won us permission to have more sex, but not necessarily better sex. In the last decade or so, there has been much learned about female orgasm, including ejaculation. Is this a sexual entitlement about which women are just now talking, or is it another hurdle in the sexual Olympics? Now must we grade our sexual performance with wet answers to the weighty question, "Was it good for you?" Can't we just relax and have a good time? Must we be always striving to do it right? And who's right, anyway? Or... Have those few women who fiercely claimed their full sexuality, regardless of whether or not they were messy and wet, discovered a sexual secret that could benefit scores of us? Many women, research suggests, sometimes feel the urge to urinate just as they are reaching orgasm, and instantly react by clamping down the PC muscles and forcing the liquid back into the bladder (the female counterpart of men's retrograde ejaculation).

This accomplished, they continue the experience of orgasm, with little loss of sensation. Sex completed, they rush to the bathroom to empty their very full bladders. But those of us who do not hold back, who lean into the feeling and push against the delicious pressure, know the ecstasy of forcing that sexy fluid out into the world, of holding nothing back, of being big, and expansive, hot and wet, demanding to be noticed, insisting on being heard. These orgasms shriek independence and pleasure and carnal knowledge. Our husbands and boyfriends have long understood the focal significance of ejaculation. Now we learn that some of us have that power, too...heady stuff, this. We've actually known about the G-Spot, named for Ernst Grafenberg, a German gynecologist and sex researcher, since the 1940s, but this information was largely ignored. In the early 1980s, another team of sexologists, Alice Kahn Ladas, Beverly Whipple, and John D. Perry, published The G-Spot, explaining the anatomy and physiology of the G-Spot and how it produces fluid during orgasm in some women. We know that the size of the paraurethral glands (the G-Spot) varies greatly among individuals, as does the tone of the pubococcygeal (PC) muscle. It is when women with sufficiently large glands and well-toned PC muscles become highly aroused that the phenomenon of female ejaculation can be expected. And it is for these women that this information is so welcome. As we have been reclaiming our sexual privileges, many of us have come to anticipate that rush of fluid that marks particularly powerful orgasms.

Now that we understand that we are not 'misbehaving' (How quick we are to accept such censure.), we are free to embrace the thrill of our bodies' completion of this particular orgasmic script. Make no mistake about it: this orgasm is different from the others we experience. It is not like the fast hot vibrator-induced quickies that mark the beginning (or end) of our days, nor like the long, hardwon climaxes when cunnilingus is done just right and long enough ("Ohmigod, whatever you do, don't change anything now"), nor like the slow, delicious, sensuous climbing of a long evening with nothing to do but our lover. We each own an individual sexual script, and female ejaculation is just one more treat to add to the wondrous menu of sexual delights available. This is all relatively new information. It is only in recent years that women have been talking about ejaculation, and indeed it is from within the lesbian community, where sensitive fingers have probed and encouraged unbridled sexual release, that the 'secret' has been shared among women. Dr. Perry still lectures about the phenomenon, as does Beverly Whipple, and Dr. Gary Schubach has recently produced research that proves we are not 'peeing' on our partners, but releasing a clear, odorless, and colorless liquid saturated with the chemicals of arousal and strikingly similar in makeup to males' prostatic fluid. It has shared sources, in that some of it is released from the paraurethral glands, some from the bladder (in a chemically altered form of urine), and some from the Bartholin's and Skeene's glands that routinely produce vaginal lubrication. Doctors Schubach and Perry have each done independent research determining that the fluid is not urine, and there are still unsolved questions about just what it actually is. A hormone called aldosterone is produced when we are flushed with endorphins, as happens during sexual arousal. This hormone sets in motion a series of chemical changes in the body, one of which is a significant increase in fluid saturating the genital area, a sensation known as 'vasocongestion'. Simply put, some of us fill up and spill over (a tip of the hat to singer/songwriter Chris Williamson). And it feels divine! Others don't experience this, and there need be no pressure to meet some other-imposed standard. The point is to enjoy our sexual diversity and abilities in whichever forms they appear. If we're having fun having sex, we're doing it right. Not all women have the anatomical structure necessary to produce a substantial amount of liquid, and they by no means suffer. But how does a girl know if she can ejaculate? How is this accomplished, anyway? It's actually fairly simple. The hopeful ejaculator lies on her back, her lover sitting between her legs (Let's make the lover male so we can differentiate the players. In fact, let's call them Dick and Jane, just to put a new spin on an old tale).

Proceed to do whatever turns you on. During your lovemaking, ask Dick to put one or two fingers into your vagina and stroke and rub the upper surface, which will be slick and wet and may swell with your arousal. It will feel good. Tell Dick how to touch you and direct him to just the right places. Experiment with different pressures and rhythms. When you discover something that feels delightful, ask Dick to continue the action. Can he feel that spot swelling even more? It might feel like a bunch of miniature grapes, or a bag of tiny marbles. Can you feel yourself wanting to push into his fingers? Do so. That familiar feeling of impending orgasm may well follow this phase. Go with it. Let yourself feel as good as you can. Hold nothing back. Push into it. Allow yourself to explode into the feeling. If it feels like you are beginning to pee, push past it, for this very feeling precedes the release of the fluid. Continue to ride the sensations, and you may very well feel the warm and powerful gush of liquid pushing against your lover's hand. Surrender to these urges, these sensations. Allow your body to behave in whatever way it wants. You may very well experience your first ejaculation. If not, you will still have had a memorable sexual experience. Some women report that ejaculation happens easily during fisting. Perhaps the extra containment and the determined stroking aid in the process. In any case, if you enjoy being fisted, do not be surprised if this triggers an ejaculation. And don't forget to be prepared. There can be a lot of liquid, from a teaspoon or two up to almost a litre, giving new meaning to 'sleeping in the wet spot'. Flannel-backed sheeting sold in baby supply stores can save your mattress and keep everyone more comfortable. Of course, it means more laundry, a small price to pay for such extravagant sexual excitement. It really doesn't matter if you ejaculate or if you don't. Sex is supposed to be fun. It's important that we enjoy our bodies and the delight they can bring us. If that includes ejaculation, celebrate it.

We no longer must fear the embarrassment or shame that we will pee on our lovers (some body fluids are good and others not? How silly!) Ejaculators can now proudly come out of yet another sexual closet and rejoice in this unique and yet so universal experience. No, it's not just for boys anymore! Dr. Pega Ren is a clinical sexologist with a private practice in Vancouver, BC. As well, she teaches in the Women's Studies and Continuing Education departments at Simon Fraser University and writes for a number of dot com sites. Have a look at Dr. Ren's website for more information on sexuality issues. Her website is http://www.smartsextalk.com. Dr. Ren can be reached at sexdoc@smartsextalk.com.

What's A G-Spot Anyway?

2005-08-19T14:52:00.000-04:00

The term "G-Spot" was first introduced to the public at large in the book, The G-Spot and Other Recent Discoveries About Human Sexuality. It referred to a 1950 article in the International Journal of Sexology in which Dr. Ernest Gräfenberg wrote about erotic sensitivity along the anterior vaginal wall.

While many people have read or heard about Gräfenberg, few have read his actual words. In reality, Gräfenberg only uses the word "spot" twice and he uses it to make the opposite point to the way it has been popularly used. He states that "there is no spot in the female body, from which sexual desire could not be aroused. Innumerable erotogenic spots are distributed all over the body, from where sexual satisfaction can be elicited; these are so many that we can almost say that there is no part of the female body which does not give sexual response, the partner has only to find the erotogenic zones."

What has been popularly but erroneously called the "G spot" is the area on the upper wall of the vagina, through which the urethral or "Skene's" glands can be felt. It is the media, which picked up the term "G-Spot" because of the book, that has promulgated the notion of a "spot" on the anterior wall of the vagina itself. The search for a "spot" on the anterior wall of the vagina, as opposed to searching for the urethral glands through the anterior wall may be contributing to the difficulty of finding a single G "spot" and the controversy as to whether it exists at all.

The purpose of reprinting the following definitions of the "G-Spot" that were found on the Internet is both to show accurate definitions and to highlight how the use of the word "spot" has contributed to misconceptions and a lack of understanding of the function of the urethra and its glands and ducts as an erogenous zone.

Accurate Definitions of the "G-Spot" Taken from the Internet
"I'll leave out the scientific theories and just give some practical information. The female urethra runs along the front/top side of the vagina, between it and the pubic bone. In many women it is sensitive to firm strokes from inside the vagina which press it up against the pubic bone. The G-spot is supposed to be tissue surrounding the urethra, about 1 1/2 to 2 inches inside."
* * * * *

"G-spot is the nickname for the GrafenberG-Spot, named after the gyn who noted its erotic significance in the 50's. The g-spot in women is analogous to the prostate in men (which seems to play a more direct role in sex and procreation)."

"The g-spot is a gland located behind the pubic bone and around the urethra. It can be massaged or stimulated by reaching up about two finger joints distance on the upper surface of the vagina. The area may be located by "systematic palpation of the entire anterior wall of the vagina between the posterior side of the pubic bone and the cervix. Two fingers are usually employed, and it is often necessary to press deeply into the spot to reach the spot" (Perry and Whipple, Journal of Sex Research, 1981, p 29). If already aroused, some women will find that stimulation of this area leads to an intense orgasm which may be qualitatively different from a clitorially-centered orgasm. Stimulation of the spot produces a variety of initial feelings: discomfort, 'feeling need' to urinate, or a pleasurable feeling. With additional stroking the area may begin to swell and the sensations may become more pleasurable. Continuing may produce an intense orgasm. Like the prostate, the g-spot can produce a fluid-like semen (but not as viscous) which may be released on orgasm -- even known to "squirt" a couple of centimeters."
"For comparison, the prostate in men is also located behind the pubic bone and around the urethra. The two ejaculatory ducts also end here (bringing sperm from testis via vas deferens). The prostate can be reached via the anus (as in Doctors performing a prostate exam). Continued stimulation of the prostate may produce intense orgasms in men. The prostate is the gland which produces semen (other than the sperm in the semen)."

* * * * *
"The G-Spot is an area of spongy tissue surrounding a woman's urethra. When a woman is sexually aroused, this tissue swells and feels to the touch like a raised area through the ceiling of the vagina. Some women can have orgasms with firm stimulation of this area. And sometimes arousal and orgasm triggered in this way are accompanied by ejaculation of fluid through the urethra. This fluid is not urine, but is produced by glands, located around the urethra. Although every woman has this urethral sponge or G-Spot, not all women respond in the same way to its stimulation. Some women find that G-Spot stimulation feels no different from stimulation of other parts of the vaginal barrel."

* * * * *
Popular term for a particularly sensitive area within the vagina, about halfway between the pubic bone and the cervix at the rear of the urethra; named after gynecologist Ernst Gräfenberg (1881-1957) who first put forth a theory concerning this area."

"When authors Ladas, Whipple and Perry first published their book The G-Spot, their findings were not all too convincing and the existence of this "new" erogenic zone - especially its alleged ability to ejaculate an orgasmic fluid was not officially recognized by most doctors and medical scientists. Leading scientific papers still do not publish any related research, hereby declaring it "unscientific" (and themselves to be practically ignorant), yet a growing number of women - and men - now know by experience ... and they do not need to be convinced by theory. Reviewing the meanwhile available evidence, the conclusion must be drawn that there exists no actual G-spot in the sense in which it has been promoted, though the "discovery" certainly has led to a better understanding of what actually goes on. The G-spot is - in fact - merely a simple label for a rather complicated and sophisticated part of the yoni, a part that is erotically sensitive and which is also responsible for female ejaculation. The label can of course be used - for simplicity's sake - but by not considering the biological facts it does only lead to new misconceptions. There can be no question - for example - whether or not each woman "possesses" a G-spot: they do! The difference - whether or not she feels it - depends on a wide variety of physical and psychological factors and it is certainly conceivable that not every woman is particularly sensitive in this area - just as there are worlds of differences in the sensitivity of nipples and other "standard" erogenic zones."

"The area we are concerned with is actually called the urethral sponge - an area of spongy tissue (corpus spongiosum) that also contains clusters of nerve-endings, blood vessels, paraurethral glands and ducts - that covers the female urethra (urinary tube) on all sides. During sexual stimulation - by finger-pressure or certain positions and movements of the lingam, the sponge can become engorged with blood, swells and thus becomes distinguishable to touch. A number of researchers - in Israel and the USA - have meanwhile established that tissue of the G-spot area contains an enzyme that is usually found only in the male prostatic glands. This may indicate that we are dealing here with a "female version" of the prostatic glands, a collection of glands which also in men is rather sensitive to touch and pressure. The existence of these hitherto unknown glands in this place may also explain the fluid secretions many women experience during/after G-spot stimulation."

"To those not yet practically acquainted with the G-spot, it presents an interesting paradox and invites for adventurous exploration: in order to find it, one has to stimulate it - and to do just that, one has to find it! An early Chinese concept of the G-spot may have been that of a Palace of Yin. Though the term is often used simply as meaning "womb", it specifically refers to the location in the body where the orgasmic secretion called 'moon flower medicine' lies waiting to be released. As such, the concept may well be the most early "discovery" of a G-spot and represents the ancients insights into female ejaculation and the female prostatic glands."

Examples of definitions that may be close, but are being thrown off by use of the word "spot"

"I think my G-spot is past the urethra by at least an inch... (could be wrong...) about 2 or 2-1/2 inches or so from the entrance to my vagina."

* * * * *
"Traditionally it was thought that all of the sensation available from the female genitals derived from the lips, entrance to the vagina, and especially the clitoris. In other words, what you see above. It was thought that the interior of the vagina was practically numb to sexual sensation."

"Now one of those old coots who spent the seventies sticking their noses into other people's intimate businesses was a guy called Grafenberg, if memory serves. Dr G. had this theory that there was an area within the vagina, which was called the GrafenberG-Spot or G-Spot, which not only was sexually sensitive but which could trigger bigger and better female orgasms than the clit and the exterior bits could by themselves."

"Now the trouble with Dr G.'s claim was that not everyone seemed to be able to find this spot, which he reckoned was analogous with the male prostate gland, and those that did find it didn't necessarily like it much, and so there was some controversy, especially in the popular press. A number of folks who did find it and did like it eventually sussed out the mechanics of the spot, and over the last few years there've been a number of quite good books about it."

"The story is basically this: The G-spot is a flat area about as big as a one or two cent piece, about two inches inside the vagina. It's just behind the pubic bone, on the vaginal wall that is closest to the belly-button. You can reach it with your index finger. If the genitals you're playing with are not very aroused then you might have difficulty finding it, or it might not feel very interesting or nice to the owner."

* * * * *

"I am definitely still looking for it, even after 16 years of searching. Have trouble getting my partner to talk about it or let me go and find it."

* * * * *
"I think it's highly likely that, just as in men, there is a spot in the woman's vagina where nerve endings are found in greater abundance than in other places."

* * * * *
"The G-Spot is very real! I have a slightly above average size penis (9"), and women have told me I was one of the few men that reached the spot! So, I assume if you have a long enough penis you'll ring the bell!"

* * * * *
"Yes, the G-spot is real. It feels like a rough area about 1-3" along the top of the vagina. Digital stimulation of this area during oral sex can produce a powerful climax."

Flickr

2005-08-16T23:12:00.000-04:00

This is a test post from , a fancy photo sharing thing.

JOHN H. JOHNSON DIES

2005-08-10T11:14:00.000-04:00

EBONY/JET/FASHION FAIR COSMETICS FOUNDER LEAVES HISTORIC LEGACY

John H. Johnson, founder, publisher and chairman of Johnson Publishing Company, Inc., died August 8 in Chicago at Northwestern Memorial Hospital. He was 87. Johnson was the founder of a major international media and cosmetics empire that includes EBONY and JET magazines, Fashion Fair Cosmetics and EBONY Fashion Fair. It is the No. 1 African-American publishing company in the world founded in 1942.

Mr. Johnson, who borrowed $500 on his mother’s furniture and created a publishing and cosmetics empire, is credited as one of the major trailblazers and he is recognized as the founder of the African-American consumer market. The founder and publisher succumbed after an extended illness on the 60th anniversary of EBONY magazine, which, under his leadership, has been the biggest Black-owned magazine in the world for 60 straight years. In 2002, Johnson named Linda Johnson Rice, the chief operating officer, CEO of the company, but retained the title of chairman and publisher until his death.

Rice said her father was active in company affairs. "He was in his office and alert and active until the end. He was the greatest salesman and CEO I have ever known, but he was also a father, friend and mentor with a great sense of humor who never stopped climbing mountains and dreaming dreams."

Throughout his career, Mr. Johnson received several awards including, the highest civilian honor, The Presidential Medal of Freedom, the Magazine Publisher’s Association Publisher of the Year Award, the Advertising Hall of Fame Award, the Arkansas Business Hall of Fame Award, the National Business Hall of Fame Award, the Greatest Minority Entrepreneur Award, the Horatio Alger Award and the NAACP Spingarn Award. In 2003 Howard University in Washington, D.C. established the John H. Johnson School of Communications in his honor. In 2005 the John H. Johnson Delta Cultural and Entrepreneurial Learning Center in Arkansas City was dedicated. Mr. Johnson received several honorary doctoral degrees from universities including Harvard University, the University of Southern California, Northwestern University, Howard University and Morehouse College.

Mrs. Rice states, "This is a tremendously sad time for me personally, my mother and my daughter, Alexa, and for our company and its employees. However, we are determined to continue to move forward with the inspiring legacy he has left us." Mr. Johnson was born in poverty in Arkansas City, Arkansas in 1918. He credits the love and determination of his mother, the late Gertrude Johnson Williams for starting him on the road to success. Throughout his career he was supported by his wife, Eunice W. Johnson, secretary-treasurer of the company; and his daughter, President & CEO Linda Johnson Rice.

In his autobiography, Succeeding Against the Odds, Mr. Johnson said, "I believe that the only failure is failing to try…and if my life has meaning…it is because millions of Americans, Black and White, have proved through me that the Dream is still alive and well and working in America."

WANT AD FOR PUBLISHER

2005-08-07T01:13:00.000-04:00

Nothing Is Impossible

2005-08-07T01:06:00.000-04:00

Adult Swinger Dating

The Publishing Game

2005-08-02T22:49:00.000-04:00

I've been running into some real class acts lately. Nothing personal as they say, but some of these publishers out here are really trying to get over on me. You know what they say about charity beginning at home? Well silly me, I applied that to business practices. I decided to submit my queries to black publishers who are trying to come up in the game. Much to my disappointment, I'm being propositioned like a $2 ho for my book. Yes, they all like it. But they don't seem to want to put out, but they expect me to turn around and drop my pants. Of course I'm not that desperate to get published, although I've been told that many others are. In any case, these days, either they love it, or they think it's too nasty. I've heard the term "porn on paper". Why are even black people scared of black sex? We all know that sex starts off slow, and ends up hot, wet, sticky, sweaty and loud (at least it does for me). Why do people front?

WILL THE REAL PUBLISHERS PLEASE STAND UP?

I decided to submit to two porn publishers. I think they will enjoy what I have to offer.
By the way, ain't I cute?

FACESITTER

FULL CONTACT KINK

2005-07-23T21:13:00.000-04:00

Story 2:
Full Contact Kink
© 2005 Marsha Lewis AKA FACESITTER

Kim was in bed, dreaming that a tall, dark handsome black man was towering over her, holding his ten-inch, rock-hard dick. Pointing it right at her. In this reverie, she rose out of the bed, and to her knees, positioning herself right in front of the mystery man. As if she had known him for years, she let her mouth lead her to his dick, and enveloped it with her lips. Slowly, she sucked the large, mushroom head into her mouth, moaning, and enjoying the taste of his skin. She could hear a sigh escape his mouth, and she wanted him to feel good. Soon, her whole mouth was over it, and she was sucking, slurping loudly and earnestly, while he ran his fingers through her hair, at the back of her head. He was rubbing her scalp, and bringing her head down over his shaft, so that she would occasionally be throat-fucked. On, and on, and on, this continued. She could hear words of encouragement over the loud slurping sounds her mouth was making, and then she heard him say, with a strained, breathy whisper:
“I’m so proud of you babe.” Then a steady flow of thick jism filled her mouth and she greedily gulped it down. She was proud of herself. Instantaneously, she was awake, horny and pissed.
Her fingers were in her mouth, and two fingers were buried in her pussy. Sweaty and ashamed, even though no one had witnessed her lusty behavior, she removed her slick fingers from her warm, wet folds, and removed her fingers from her mouth. She licked her lips, and bit on her bottom lip. Waking up from that kind of dream, made her wish that her soon-to-be ex-husband was still around. She threw Paul out the year before, because he was a bad liar, and an even worse cheat. She would be doing the laundry, and find some other bitch’s draws in his pants pocket, and smell the rancid smell of some other woman’s pussy on the crotch of her husband’s pants. He was a great lover and father, and she loved him. She just couldn’t stand the fact that she was not enough for him.

Kim lay there, thinking about the man in her dreams; how toned and soft his body was. She felt her loins quivering from what she was doing to her pussy in her sleep. She had to do something about it, the quivering, that is. Kim remembered the time she and her girlfriends went to a sex novelty store, and they encouraged her to buy a dildo, since she and her husband were separated.

“At least you’ll know where that dick’s been!” Petra blurted out loudly, in the middle of the store, before letting out one of her lawless laughs. The other women laughed, too, but Kim was too frigid to find that funny. Furthermore, she thought Petra was jealous anyway, since she had no man, and never seemed to keep a man for more than a week. And on top of that, she was the queen of abortions. That girl is a walking cemetery, what does she know? She asked herself quietly. Never mind her, she’s probably getting hers right now, regardless of how temporary it might be.

Kim stumbled out of bed, and over to the closet, where she had hidden her black, thick, rubbery dildo. She would just die if her son saw it one day, so she made sure it was hidden out of his reach, and out of his sight. She had wrapped it in a t-shirt, and tucked it under some old sweat pants her husband used to wear around the house. At least it can smell like him, she reasoned. She walked over to the dresser, holding the dildo by its shaft shamelessly, and got a condom out of her wallet. She climbed back into bed like a child with a favorite toy, and examined it. It was shiny, and hard, but it was made of that rubbery material her old Barbies were made of; it even kind of smelled like her old dolls. For a flash of a second, Kim imagined Barbie as a big whore, taking Ken’s dick from behind, even though her Ken dolls were never made with real dicks. They always had that lump in the front, a lump that never provoked her to ask any questions about sex or dicks when she was growing up. Yet as a child, she positioned Ken between Barbie’s spread-open legs, so that they at least looked as if they were engaged in sex.

Kim put her dolls out of her mind, and began to think of the man in her dream again. In her mind, he had instructed her to get on the bed, and lay there with her legs wide open, “So I can eat that pussy.” Kim lay there, stroking the palm of her hand over her pussy, pretending that it was his mouth, stroking her up and down repeatedly with the flat of his tongue.

Five minutes of this made her ready for her virgin dildo; she had been too nervous to use it before this night. She tore the condom wrapper open with her teeth, and slipped the condom over the dildo, marveling at how good the fake veins felt against her fingertips. After the divorce, she didn’t have too much real life sex, just a whole lot of masturbation, while she read dirty mags and novels. She didn’t want to let her son see a man other than his daddy in the house. At least, not so soon after their break-up.
She heard the voices of her girlfriends in her mind:

“Giiiiiiiiirrrrrrlllll, it’s been damn-near a year already. You need you some dick,” Cassandra would say. Then Petra chimed in, “One day you gonna break that dildo up inside of you, then whachu gon’ do?”
“Just make him leave in the morning, and if your son wakes up early, just tell him he’s your friend,” Sharon soothed.
Kim closed her eyes tight, shutting those nosey bitches’ voices out of her mind. She was going to get a nut, and she was determined to get it, with the help of Mr. Dildo.

Slowly, she wedged the nine-inch dildo inside her anxious twat; eager to forget the lonely feeling her queen-sized bed gave her. This dildo felt so good to her. Like the real thing in a way, except it did exactly what she wanted it to do. She worked it in and out, breathing heavily, and whispering dirty words in the dark. She enjoyed pretending that it was a man who knew exactly what she wanted, and was programmed to satisfy only her. She continued to encourage the imaginary man to screw her harder. She pumped the dildo downward into the sloppy, eager pussy. In a matter of seconds, Kim was so turned on, that she orgasmed without much warning. She lay there quivering, breathing hard, and holding the dildo inside of herself.

“MMMMMMM” she said to herself, as she eased the dildo out of her pussy, resting it on the pillow next to hers. She could have easily lain there and fallen asleep, while she basked in the afterglow of the orgasm that shook her whole body. But her analytical mind rarely took a damned break. Realizing that she had a lot of e-mail to check, she got up while she was still breathing heavily; while her pussy was still shivering, and sat at her computer desk. She was already logged onto the Internet. A loud “RING!” broke the silence. A chat window appeared on top of the page she was working on previously. Her IM name was properlady, synonymous with her outwardly uptight demeanor.

sensual32: hi.
properlady: who’s this?
sensual32: someone who saw your profile…you’re sexy as hell.
Kim felt herself shut down, as if she was having a panic attack. She closed the IM window and turned off the computer. Then she took a few moments to sit there and ask herself some inward questions, the main one being: How can I be horny and frigid at the same time?

She crawled back into bed, and lay there, staring into the ceiling, seeing the nasty words in her mind, the words she said aloud to herself, while she masturbated earlier. At that moment, she was so sexually excites, she didn’t give a shit that she had not even touched her typesetting work, which is why she got up earlier to begin with. She was only thinking of when next she would have a man on top of her, giving her the real deal. Kim wanted to meet a guy and fuck him all night long, until the sun shone over the horizon.

Kim examined her hand, and thought about what pleasure she could bring herself, without anyone around. Your hand is for everything, my sista, she heard Petra jeering. She slipped out of her jogging suit, and got naked, slipping under the covers, finding her dildo tucked under the pillow. A plate coated with syrup from her morning breakfast sat at her bedside. Kim rubbed the dildo onto the plate, and sucked on the head of the dildo, enjoying the maple syrup residue; eventually deep-throat sucking the phallus, while she rubbed her pussy with the flat of her hand. She was moaning loudly, and rubbing, which she did continuously, until she came. In the midst of the sensation that shook her erotic universe, the phone rang. While she was still shuttering, she answered the phone.

“Yeah…”
“We gotta talk.”
It was Paul, her ex-husband. The last person she wanted to talk to. His voice was a rude awakening, a trip back to the reality, of being a lonely divorcee to be, of a man who was never faithful.
“We don’t gotta do shit.”
“I love you, babe—“
“Cut the bullshit. I’ve heard it a hundred times.”

Paul’s coming back home would cramp her style. He would never stand for her masturbating with her new pussy toy, and the last thing she wanted to do, is have his tired dick inside her. If anything, having him around killed her libido. If she was going to shed her timid demeanor and grow as an erotic woman, he could never come back. His home was no more.

“Look Paul, it’s not about what you want. For once, it’s about what I want, and I don’t want you.”
A brief silence fell on the phone. Paul’s sweet, meek tone of voice was replaced by a harsh, threatening one.
“So what’s up? You fuckin’ somebody?”
“My vagina, my business.”
“It’s my business if you got my son there!”
“Your son needs a Fall jacket, and a pair of sneakers. Do you have to be fuckin’ me to support your child? Now just be a man, and take care of business!”
Kim slammed the phone down; this time, she was trembling in a bad way. It was going to take a whole lot more than a harsh conversation to rid her life of Paul.

That’s right, she thought to herself. This vagina belongs to me.
Kim quickly pushed the image of Paul’s face out of her mind, and replaced it with the lovely stranger that stroked her throat and her ego in the dream.
These thoughts lullabied her to sleep. That, and the smell of her own pussy juices on the dildo that lay abandoned, on the pillow near her face. While she slept, she was slowly letting that prissy, proper shit in her personality go. She was budding like a flower.
******************

The next day, Kim dropped off her son Wesley at her mother’s house for the weekend. She didn’t know what to do with herself, but she knew that whatever she did do, it would be different from what she was used to doing. The moments were odd now, without him running in the room, to tell a funny story about a video game he was playing. With all this silence, she had time to think about her life. Her thoughts were flying through the air, as if on a loud speaker. What has happened to my life? I got married, and lost all my friends, except for a selected few. I’ve lost contact with so many people. She thought about Michael Jackson’s song: “Where Is My Childhood” and wondered the same thing about her social life. It had died, when she decided that she was in love with Paul. Now that the bastard was out of her life, he couldn’t bring her friends back. The people she decided not to have contact with, because of him. In a passive aggressive way, he had her thinking that maintaining friendships with men was disrespectful. Now, in retrospect, she wondered what the hell she was thinking. Why was I so willing to give up my friends? She tried to love him; that was the most likely answer. Love him without distractions. She tried to avoid people trying to break the bond she told herself they had.
Kim had disregarded everyone: all the booty calls, all the people who wanted to be on standby, waiting for her to call them at one o’clock in the morning regarding some pussy-hittin’. Now she didn’t have a man, and it was quiet as hell. She was aware of herself as an individual; without her son, and her husband, for the first time in seven years. She looked in the mirror

Maybe I can find myself a fuck buddy. To qualify, she would expect him to be the man who would help her get her sexuality back. He’d get her to ditch her shyness and talk dirty. Her sexual desire would no longer be controlled by the timid life lessons her mother taught, about channeling her sexual desire towards courtship, marriage and childbearing.
Kim’s shy character was a mismatch for her tempting body. She never noticed, but even women were enticed by her. Presumably, “straight” women would raise their heads to the sound of her stride, and keep their glance nailed to her body’s curves.
Kim was tired of not having a sex life. She was tired of thinking about her failed marriage, and the way things used to be before she was married. At age 30, she was ready to move forward, and reclaim her sexuality. She had read somewhere that exercise was a great stress buster. Since she had no one to have sex with, she would settle for a trip to the gym.
Kim had been offered a free membership, so this was an opportunity to unwind.
Kim saw this place as a new stomping ground for new fun and adventure. She would work out slowly, while glancing around at all the numerous men in the room. Her mouth watered. She felt like a kid in a candy store. While she did some half-ass sit-ups and fantasized about all the men in the room, someone touched her shoulder. Kim turned and looked at him. He was just the right height, with a great toned body, bright brown eyes, caramel skin and long black locks that looked silky soft.
“You look like you might need a personal trainer.”
“Do you come with the package?”
“Are you flirting with me?”
“Uh, no…not at all. I just meant, do I have to pay extra? I’m here on a freebie.”
The man laughed a little.
“It would be okay if you were.”
Feeling a bit awkward, Kim continued doing sit-ups, struggling all the while since she had not exercised in ages. The trainer knealt down in front of her, still smiling.
“I’m Remi.”
“Kim.”
Remi held her feel down as she continued her sit-ups. She spread her legs open, sat up and did more sit-ups.

“You got a man?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. You seem so stiff. Either you got a man and ya’ll aren’t having much intimate time, or you don’t have a man.”
“I don’t know how that has anything to do with helping someone to exercise.”
“Maybe you just get weak at night.”
Kim stared at him for a moment, feeling a horny smirk curl at her lips.
“What kind of work do you do?”
“I work at home. I’m at the computer a lot.”
“That makes a lot of sense.”
Kim sat for a moment resting on her hands. Looking up at him. Examining his body from his sneakers, all the way up to his increasingly large penis impression on his pants. Up to his waist that came in just right, up to his large, muscular chest and broad shoulders. Up to that face.
“Put the walnuts in that plain ole chocolate sex.”
Kim stared at him in astonishment.
“What did you say?”
”If you’re horny and it’s all his fault, then blame him…blame him good!”
Kim was feeling mischievous, despite her usual timidness.
“I’m recently divorced.”
“Oh, so your body has been craving some slow-burning sexual intimacy.”
Kim stared at him, wondering how he could be so forward. At the same time, it kinda made Kim horny, to be speaking with a man who was so raw and direct. He put his hands on her knees and allows them to slide down a little, stopping at her calves.
“Slow-body meshing sex…I’m gonna be frank with you. I’m thinkin’ about throwing you down on a bed, for a serious gratification conference.”
Kim smiled a little again.
“You ready to make your fantasies a reality?”
Kim paused for a minute.
“I think so.”

They met up another day at a diner at Sixth Avenue in Manhattan. Kim wore a black body suit and white sneakers, and wrapped her head in a Kente cloth, leaving a few strings of hair hanging down. While she waited, she nervously ate after-dinner mints and sipped on water. As Remi entered the diner, his eyes locked onto Kim immediately, and deep down inside, he was wishing, and knew that it was she. He walked up to her, seemingly attracted and captivated.
“Kim, right?”
“Yes, hi.”
Remi gestured for her to sit down, eyes still locked onto hers.
“I’m not too late, am I?”
“No, I was early.”
“Did you eat anything?”
Kim imagined him eating her under the table; it was a flash in front of her eyes like a movie. A few seconds went by, as she enjoyed the fantasy.
“Yeah, I mean no. Just mints.”
He motioned for the waiter to come over; he approached with menus, smiled and left. Kim tried not to stare at Remi; she felt him staring, and she could see him staring with her peripheral vision.
“Have anything in mind to eat?” she asked.
“Not really. I wanna eat you, that’s it.” He closed the menu and continued staring at her deeply. She smiled at him.
“You gonna let me?”
“What?”
“You gonna let me eat you?”
Kim laughed a little.
“I’m dead ass serious, babe. You are just stunning. I bet you’re real tasty, and responsive.”
Kim was starting to feel shy and naked, but she wasn’t offended. She wanted to explore these moments with him, to bring out the vixen that she knew was buried inside her.
“I love a woman who shows just how much she likes it.”
Kim smiled again, and looked at him shyly.
“Don’t worry, babe, I know what you like; I’m very perceptive.”
Kim didn’t know what to say to him. She felt awkward. She felt naked. She felt like leaving, until he said:
“What kind of food do you like? Is this place too generic for your taste?”
“Actually, yes. I really like Italian.”
“That’s my specialty. You like lasagna?”
“Oh, my favorite.”
“Hmmm…let’s go.”
“Where?”
“Would you mind coming to my place? I’d like to cook that for you.”
“I’m not sure if I should do that.”
“Babe, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Yes, I’m pretty sure that you are tasty as hell, but I know what “no” means. I only wanna cook for you.”
Kim left with him. She liked what he said, because it gave her the opportunity to stick her pussy in his face, if she wanted, without asking.

His apartment was modest and quaint. Clean, and it smelled like Egyptian Musk incense had been burning. What impressed her about Remi, is how quickly he came in, and washed his hands. Kim found a comfortable spot on the couch and quietly watched him work the kitchen. Remi seemed to forget she was even there; he concentrated so intensely on preparing the meal, which required much chopping, slicing and boiling. He moved around like a chef. Taking out all meats and vegetables; all the ingredients he needed. Then he fell into a professional silence, and didn’t say a word, until he was finished chopping up the vegetables, the cheese, and was sautéing the meat. He washed his hands again, and wiped them with a paper towel. He approached her with a smile. He had a real sexy walk, one that turned Kim on.
“Smells good,” she purred.
“I try,” he said.
“It looked like you were more than trying. Yo mama taught you how to move like that?”
“I went to cooking school.”
Kim’s eyebrows shot up.
“Really?”
“Why are you so surprised?”
“I guess I shouldn’t be. It’s just rare to find a man who can cook.”
“Yes, my dear, you did find me.”
“I…I didn’t mean it like that.”
”Why not? Still holding onto your prim and proper value system?”
Kim stared at him, while biting her lip. Something inside her wanted to let go completely, but there was a side to her, the side that her mother instilled, that held on for dear life.
“How old are you?”
“Old enough—“
“Exactly. Old enough. You’re not a schoolgirl anymore, livin'; in your mom’s house. No one has to know what you do, but you, and who you’re doing it to.”
“Well, what if I’m just a proper lady? Aren’t women allowed to be good anymore?”
“Sure, if that’s what you want to be. But I can tell that you don’t want to be good.”
“How do you know that?”
“’Cause you’re here, in my home, and you don’t know me.”
Kim started to walk away, and he grabbed her arm gently, but firmly.
“Do you deny that you met me today, out of attraction for me and boredom of your own life?”
Kim stared at him; her eyes were locked onto his. The anger she was feeling, was at herself. What is wrong with me? He’s right. I’m here because I want to shed that proper lady, and enjoy myself sexually. So why was I denying that now?
“How much longer are you going to pretend that you’re a goody-two shoes? You have desires, you're alive. You are desirable and sexy, and just edible, girl. I bet you stay in the house all the time and masturbate, ‘cause you’re scared to be with a man.”
Remi let go of her arm, and went over to the stove, to stir the meat and turn off the fire. As he turned around, Kim was standing there, unwrapping her hair. Her locks came falling down to her shoulders. She tossed her head wrap onto the couch. Then she proceeded to slowly unzip her body suit. She unzipped the suit just enough to reveal her mocha cleavage. As she heard Remi say “MMMM,” she felt all the more encouraged to take her clothes off, but she hesitated. Remi approached her, placing his hand gently on her shoulder. As he rubbed her arm gently up and down, she closed her eyes, and slowly exhaled, as if doing so for the first time. He got even closer, putting his face almost nose to nose with hers. He grazed her face with his, rubbing his cheek against hers, whispering in her ear.
“MMMM, baby girl…your skin is so soft…”
Kim rubbed her face against his too, feeling a warmness flush through her insides, and her heart palpitated. His hands were on her back, pulling her body closer to his, and then he was rubbing her back slowly and intently.
“Oh, girl, I wanna put my tongue on you…in you…all over you,” he whispered in her ear.
Kim was trying to control her breathing, but it was no use. She was excited to the point of no return. Only a train plowing through the wall would stop them from progressing into the next moments.
Remi kissed her earlobe and licked it, and took it into his mouth. Then he kissed her neck and licked it slow.
“Ooh,” Kim whispered, as his hands traveled down to cup and caress her ample ass. He squeezed, and he felt his dick jump. He moved his face, so that they could look into each other’s eyes again. He examined her lips, just before taking her bottom lip in his mouth, sucking gently. Then they both opened their mouths and engaged in a wet, hot kiss. Their tongues sought out each other, tangling and tugging. As if by instinct, Kim began taking off her body suit; peeling it off of her shoulders, and revealing her black bra and tiny waist. His face went down into her cleavage, licking and sucking hungrily, while his dick stabbed the inside of his pants. Her bodysuit sat slackly at her waist, while she embraced his busy face, encouraging him by kissing and biting at his neck. The last nibble sent him over the edge. He grabbed the body suit at the waist and dragged it downward, and she stood motionless, enjoying the sensation of being stripped. On his way back up to her mouth, he got a glimpse of her black silk bikini, and got a whiff of her sex, since he grazed his lips across her mound. When he was upright again, holding her face and kissing her hotly, her hands were like magnets on his back, loving the hardness of his fit body. His hands were on her ass again, this time, groping and kneading as if he was preparing bread dough, and she grinded against him, feeling his hardness. She ran her hands up under his shirt, and loved the way his toned chest felt under her hungry grasp. She worked on his shirt, pulling it up and off. Then she felt as if she was all thumbs, due to her excitement; fumbling with his belt buckle, opening his pants. Within moments, his pants were falling to his ankles, and he was stepping out of them.
Remi peeled her bra off one of her breasts, and took her big delicious nipples into his mouth, sucking and licking as if he was receiving nutrients from the deep dark chocolate ness of them. She held his face in her hands, encouraging him, loving the sensations it sent through her body. He looked into her eyes, and kissed her hotly, working on removing her panties, peeling them off. He put her foot onto the countertop, and dropped to his knees, planting wet, loud kisses on her pouted, wet pussy lips.
“Oh, oh God…” she said, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back. The sensation of her own hair touching her upper back and shoulders sent warm chills through her. He placed one hand on her flat belly, and the other on her leg, firmly holding her in place, as he feasted on her open, wet pussy. Her motorized hips churned and grinded on his up-turned mouth, while she held his face just there, right there.
Remi was so excited; he had to have her in every way. He scooped her up, holding her by her leg and hips, causing her to instantly straddle his waist, as he carried her to the couch, throwing her down firmly. Remi paused briefly, fumbling with a condom, and then putting it on. He grabbed her ankles, and held them high over her head, while he entered her eager hole, putting his full weight onto her.
“Ahhh…” they said, and then he began to pump his hips down into her, releasing her ankles, and allowing her to wrap her legs around his waist. Right when he believed she was approaching fuck frenzy, moaning loudly and bucking her hips up at him, he withdrew his penis, so that he could reach into the neighboring glass, and retrieve an ice cube. He rubbed her pussy slit up and down with it, and then pushed it inside.
“Ooooh, damn!”
He chased it with his dick, slurping in and out of her, then pounding it down.
“Oh yeeeeeaaaaahhh, now you fuckin’,” she said, as he plowed in and out of her hole. He loved the way she was talking to him. Her pussy grabbed and squeezed his dick, as it pounded and spasmed inside her. Her hips churned and bucked while she stared dead into his eyes, and sweat dripped from his brow.
“Yeah, yeah…” he encouraged. “Yeah…”
Then he felt his dick cumin’.
“This is it, babe, give me all you got,” he encouraged. He grabbed her ass and pounded harder and harder, and faster.
“Yes! Yes! Yeeeesss!” she said, as she felt her pussy spasm and suck onto his hot rod, while hot cum surrounded his dick, which was encased inside the condom. He lay there on top of her, till their loud panting turned into soft, heavy breathing. His face was buried into her shoulder, while they gained composure. He looked at her and smiled. Kim smiled back.

Naked, Remi entered the kitchen, and washed his hands. And as if nothing happened, he began preparing the lasagna, placing the pasta in the pan, then the sauce. Kim joined him in the kitchen, without putting her clothes on, first just watching him, and then she started to help, by passing him the ground meat. Quietly, they put the lasagna together.

2005 Harlem Book Fair

2005-07-23T20:56:00.000-04:00

WHO SAYS BLACK FOLKS DON'T READ??

That's right, I was there this year. I just came back home from the Harlem Book Fair. The kids, my main squeeze and I went out, and I did some networking. The name "FACESITTER" seemed to do more than I had expected, but hopefully, it's a name that is not easy to forget. I heard a lot of "OH MY GOD"S, and the like, when I gave people my card. I didn't talk much about myself or my material, since the name seemed to talk for me. That was a good thing, since I was a little hoarse from the other day.

I was really encouraged to stay in this game of Publishing (not that I needed any encouragement) by the great turn-out, and the fact that I was able to distribute almost 80 business cards in just a few hours. Came home empty-handed; time to make more. Lots of children and lots of new authors were on the scene. People were selling clothes and the like; jewelry, you name it. I even spotted a few competitors in this game, but they were too scared to face the FACESITTER. I can't take the credit of intimidation entirely; my baby is 6'5".

I ran into the publisher that's considering publishing "G-Spot Chronicles". Some real heads were there, and a few other folks I was mildly acquainted with, were there doing their thing.
I was happy to see that there were lots of children's books out there. I didn't buy any, since Indigo has not yet read the books from last year's fair, and Brian, my younger one was too irritated to stop for very long. Poor Indigo. My son has so many books, he can hardly know which to read first!

Hopefully I'll be able to participate next year. I hear the price isn't so bad.
One thing that I noticed, is that some black folks that participated (artists, authors) were kinda flaky. Meaning, not really interested in speaking to other black people that genuinely admired them. These high-yella, and pseudo-professionals oughta stay away from these events.

NEWS/Welfare Queen AKA "The Marriage Counselor"

2005-07-19T19:28:00.000-04:00

"The Marriage Counselor" competed the Urban World Film Festival! It was up against some pretty talented directors. It screened for two days at Loews Cineplex at 34 th Street (btwn 8 & 9).

It's bitter sweet, because I would've liked more creative control. But isn't that every writer's dilemma?

But I gotta say, it was surreal, to go to a movie theatre, adn see your stuff on the BIG SCREEN. I used to dream about this day, now I'm livin' it.

Next time I go into creative agreements, hopefully it'll be my directors' debut!

In the mean time, Here's the story that competed. It was renamed "The Marriage Counselor", but it's original name is "Welfare Queen".
I'm outa here!
FACESITTER

Story 5
Written by FACESITTER

Welfare Queen AKA "The Marriage Counselor"

Story 5
Welfare Queen

Petra was a chocolate, big-busted, man lovin’ beauty, with a convincing weave, big flirty eyes, solid luscious hips and thick lips. The ultimate eye candy, she used every element of her feminine mystique, to feed off a man’s fantasies, by wearing skimpy, alluring clothing. Any color man would do; pleasure and cash were what she sought.

Damn near every man in Brooklyn had her in his grasp at some point in his sexual lives. Petra had an uncanny preference for another woman’s man. Any woman’s man. If a man was out with his wife or his girlfriend and their children, he was a prime target. Somehow, she could zero in on the knowledge of the honeymoon being over. Or that feeling fathers get; you know, that feeling just after the doctor tells them they can’t have sex for six weeks after she’s given birth, and just before the stitches in her pussy heal. Petra would zero in on that vulnerability, and she would fuck the poor guy royally. Her pussy would be tender from the frustration he lived with, and she loved it. Petra would encourage them to take it out on her. She wanted to internalize all of that, and feed off it. It kept her getting ample dick with no strings, and she enjoyed the variety, just like any other man.
She didn’t have any children, and she was resolute to keep it that way. If God had it His way, Petra Lames would be the mother of a small army, since she was such a shameless whore. Abortion was the woman’s middle name. She was a walking cemetery. With children around, she couldn’t invite guys over and have private parties all night, one of her favorite past times, and ways of making ends meet.

Every day, at least during the summer months, Petra would rise for the day and have a cool shower. She would brush the taste of dick out of her mouth and have a meal, ‘cause a girl’s gotta keep up her strength. Then she’d go out in front of her apartment building, wearing a robe and a thong, so that her ass would jiggle through the satin. Her robe was just short enough, so that when she sat on her stoop and left her legs slightly open, passersby would see her painted-on panties hugging her pussy.

When Petra went out, especially in the summer months, she loved wearing barely enough to cover her body, making her curves and contours irresistible. She especially loved wearing her Tuesday’s Butt-Huggin’ Punany-Riders. Men stared, drooled, speechless, unable to kick those lines that get the panties.

It was hot as hell outside the day she went home, and found a woman sitting on her couch, looking mad as hell. She didn’t know this chick from Adam. It was her man that she had known quite well, and Miss Thing wasn’t having it.

As she entered, she spotted the young woman, and tossed her keys onto the table. The woman jumped up off the couch and approached Petra, like she was ready to fight.
“You been fuckin’ my husband?”
“Who are you? And what the fuck are you talkin’ about?”
“You heard me, bitch! I axed you if you been screwin’ my man!”
“Look, any man I screw, ain’t got no leash ‘round his neck, or no receipt in his pocket. These men are out here, free to freak who they want. Don’t be mad at me, be mad at your man.”
“So you have been fuckin’ him.”
“Who is your lousy man? I fuck a couple of guys.”
“His name is Rodney.”
“Will, hmmm…sounds familiar.”
“So you a ho—“
“Yeah, I’m a happy ho, bitch!”

The woman slammed her fist against the side of Petra’s face, and she fell backwards onto the floor. She held her face.

“I have three babies for that nigga, bitch. If I eva, eva, smell your stankin’ assed pussy on his dick again, I’m gonna come over here, and give you a hysterectomy. Understand, ho? Leave other bitch’s men ALONE!”

The woman left Petra’s apartment, but not before pushing the stereo onto the floor, smashing it into several pieces. Petra wasn’t worried about that stereo. She would get one of her men to replace it. She was hoping’ that it would be this bitch’s man.

She got up, dusted herself off. She made her way over to the phone and called Rodney. He answered the phone, like he was running a switchboard for possible conquests.

“Hello?” he seemed to sing.
“Hey babe, wassup?”
“You. I’m comin’ over there later to tap that ass, aiight?”
“Your woman was here, talkin’ ‘bout am I fuckin’ you?”
“Word? I told her to stay cool. Damn, did she act up?”
“Of course she did, but I’m okay.“
“Damn, she gotta understand, wildin’ out don’t keep a man, it just drives him away. I’m breakin’ it off with her anyway, she knows that.”
“Well, from what I heard, I’m a home wrecker.”
“Naw, babe. Naw…shit was goin’ wrong way before I got wit chu. She don’t wanna give me no sex…what’s a brotha supposed to do, go without?”
“You’re leavin’ her?
“She knows that…so listen, I’m comin’ over there to blow that back out, aiight? So be home tonight.”
“Sounds like a plan. Just make sure you give your girl some dick before you holla at me, ‘cause I’m not goin’ to blows over some dick, you got me?”
“ Yeah, I got chu, baby.”
“How bad could the sex be between ya’ll be?”
“Look, don’t worry about her. She’s lookin’ at the front door. You and me gon’ kick it in a minute, aiight?”
“Cool.” Petra hung up, and went in to the bathroom, to have a cool shower.

She felt a little stupid for letting that woman get away with knocking her ass down, but the sweetest revenge, was givin’ that bitch’s man more pussy than he could handle.
After she caressed her own body with Victoria Secret lotion, she dressed herself in her favorite black teddy, and sipped carelessly on some gin and juice. Petra looked around and picked up the scraps of the stereo that shattered about the room, and plotted in her mind, about all the sex she was going to throw on Rodney.

SUPERHEAD

2005-07-19T10:34:00.000-04:00

*Just days after talk show host Tyra Banks got into it with industry “pro”-turned-author Karrine Steffans over her tell-all book, “Confessions of a Video Vixen,” another TV host has stepped forward to question Steffans’ motives behind exposing her numerous celebrity sexcapades.

While Canadian-born model and BET host Melyssa Ford, like Steffans, has benefited from starring in hip hop and R&B videos, Ford says Steffans’ dirt-dishing road to recognition – outlined in her book – is where the buck needs to stop.

“Her motivation for doing videos was for a stepping stone to become bigger in the entertainment industry [and] to be promiscuous,” Ford told AllHipHop.com. “The fact that her story is being sensationalized right now sends a real bad message to little girls.”

Ford says she was able to sidestep many of the situations and poor decisions Steffans described in her book.

“I try to project a good message to the young girls, that you can use videos as stepping-stone if you do it the right way,” Ford told the web site. “You just look at it as a job as a paycheck. You know don’t fraternize with the artist after hours or in the trailer. Don’t make passes at the directors or the producers. Do what you are asked to do, but respect yourself at the same time. Maintain that level of etiquette and respect and you will have longevity in this industry.”

----------------------------------------------

This professional lay has been creating quite a buzz. Ja Rule's wife kicked him out after the book was released. Big Tigger has been accused of being on the DL, and all hell is breaking loose!

THE DEBUT ALBUM FROM CINCINNATI'S FINEST CZARNOK (pronounced zar-knock). "That One Way" includes the hits 'Pimp Tight,' 'Throw Me That Pack' (with Three 6 Mafia), 'She Walked My Way' and MORE. In stores August 30. For more info go here: www.czarnok.com/

HOT NEW WRITERS ON THE VERGE

2005-07-18T01:54:00.000-04:00

LUVKD22 is who I first knew her as, and even though she can't stand it, I still call her that. Her writing is off the chain. Check her out:
http://writerts.blogspot.com

This dude can write from a female's point of view better than the female herself! If you're alone tonight, have a toy and a video handy.
http://jameswlewis.blogspot.com/

2005-07-18T01:48:00.000-04:00

Sign My Guestbook, Please

2005-07-18T01:46:00.000-04:00

Click On The Title Above To Order "The Marriage Counselor" and "The Engagement Party".

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Current Events

2005-07-18T01:16:00.000-04:00

I'm working on two books now. An in-between book (DL LIVES) and G-Spot 2: The Chronicles Continue. I'm waiting to hear from a few publishers and agents, since I am currently without both, and I'm just trying to be patient, while I continue to keep my nose to the grindstone, and my fingertips to the keyboard. I'm making music these days too, so my hustle is growing. I'd like to get the attention of some major people to sell my music. I'd also like movie makers, directors and producers to contact me at facesitterhasbeats@yahoo.com.

My family and I are having a great time this summer, doing fun family stuff. On the naughty end, my husband and I are happier then ever before. You think maybe it's the writing?

G-Spot Chronicles

Written by FACESITTER
©2003 Marsha Lewis AKA Ocean Koné
©2004 FACESITTER
Story One Of “G-Spot Chronicles”

Love, Ghetto Style

It was a warm, breezy Saturday afternoon in the heart of Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn, and Raymond was pissed. A tall, 32-year-old, almond-colored brother with big, sexy eyes and business aspirations, Raymond was recovering badly from a broken heart. He stood at the kitchen window, watching the cars speed by. He was looking out for Cassandra, a stocky but sexy, chinky-eyed, exotic-looking 28-year-old vixen from the Bronx. Now that she had an “ex” classification, she was on her way over to pick up the last of her things.

For once, he thought to himself, he wasn’t the one to screw things up.

He could hear his friend Kareem behind him somewhere, asking something, but he didn’t hear the question, because he was too busy fretting quietly about why things didn’t work out with Cassandra. Kareem, a dude who was high yellow and tall, with freckles that dotted his thin nose, didn’t know the potential of his looks. He’d usually attract women, who, once they got to know him, considered him goofy and ‘too nice’. He had brought his PlayStation 2 over, knowing that his friend needed a little comforting. To Kareem, it was clear that Raymond had been severely pussy-whipped. A game of football, he hoped, would take him out of his misery.

“I forgave her when she lied, I forgave her when she cheated…I’ve just been a sucka for this bitch. No one ever cheated on me that many times.”
“I hate to tell you this kid, but you mus’ not’ve been hittin’ it right. Maybe you was lackin’ in the dick department, or somethin’.”
“Never that. We had long lastin’, straight up, pure, unadulterated fuckin’. She’s just a ho. I never came to grips with that. I never wanted to listen to what dudes were saying to me about her. I thought if it was true, I could change her, make her feel like a queen, and make her love me.”
“You know what they say about makin’ a ho into a housewife,” Kareem chuckled.
Raymond stared at him.
“Ain’t no holdin’ her down. She’s like that Dorothy Dandridge flick. Zip her up, so she can go out and be with other men.”
“I ain’t gonna lie, man. If I had a woman like that, she might kinda turn me on. I mean, we men have been doin’ that forever.”
“That’s in a man’s nature. When a female is freaky like that, you gotta look out. That’s dangerous.”

Cassandra and Raymond broke up, because Raymond walked into the G-Spot Club one night, and found his girl gyrating and kissing, like she was trying to make a baby with some dude. But that was the last straw; the first ten other times that she cheated were all forgiven, with a grain of salt.

While Kareem was plugging in the Playstation AKA pacifier, they heard keys jingling outside the front door. Raymond turned his attention to the door, and it was her: Cassandra, the ho that broke his heart.

“Wassup?” she asked with coolness, as she put down her purse. Raymond noticed the tight jeans hugging her thick thighs and ass, as she approached Raymond, in an attempt to kiss him.
Raymond turned his face away, as if her breath reeked. Cassandra, taken aback, walked around Raymond to the window, to look at a framed photo of Raymond and her, sitting on the kitchen counter. She picked it up, brandishing it like a weapon of emotional guilt.
“Dang. You did love me at one point.”
“And you loved me like a pair o’ drawers.”
“You are so tired, Ray. Always got a complaint. Just move on.”
“I can move on, when you get your stuff otta here. And why you puttin’ your purse down? I thought you were comin’ over to get your stuff, not get comfortable.”

Ignoring Raymond, Cassandra looked over at Kareem, who was sitting there, playing football on the PS2, pretending not to hear.
“Hello, Kareem.”
“Yeah, uh…wassup?”
“Her getting’ her stuff up outa here, is what’s up.”

Cassandra approached Raymond slowly, as seductively as she used to, just before she would go out with her girls, and not come back until four o’clock the next afternoon. Damn, her lips are so juicy, Raymond thought. Her eyes were flame-colored when she stood in the light, but they were auburn as she approached him. She touched his shirt where the buttons clasp on his chest. While she was fingering one of the buttonholes, she glanced up at him.

“You don’t have to be so hostile,” she purred.
Raymond loved her voice: silky-smooth, like just-whipped butter. And she did something to him with it. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, whenever she spoke to him, and looked up at him, the way she did. He couldn’t give into that anymore.

“Look, jus’ get your stuff, okay?”
Cassandra licked her lips while she stared up at him. He couldn’t help but think about her hot mouth on his dick, stroking it with her whole mouth, until he exploded down her throat. Raymond cursed out loud at himself, and led her into the bedroom by the hand, as if her pussy was actually on fire. He slammed the door behind him, and spent long moments letting her suck his dick, and afterwards, fucking her pussy hard, while he muttered, “This is goodbye…this is goodbye…”

Kareem could hear the bed springs squeaking, and it turned him on, to hear that super ho getting some dick. He paused the football game, so he could hear the nasty things Cassandra was saying, but it was all-inaudible, over Raymond’s moans and groans. A few moments went by, and there was dead-silence coming from the room, and a smell of sex floated into the place where Kareem sat.

The door opened, and Cassandra was wiping the corner of her mouth and walking quickly towards the door. She snatched up her purse on the way there, and announced, “Imma come back another day, aiight?” She was out of breath.
Raymond rushed over to the doorway, pulling up his pants. He called out to her, and she turned around sharply.

“Cassandra? The keys.”
The look she gave him could have melted cold steel. She slipped through the door, keys in hand. He was going to have to work hard, to get his keys back.

What Is G-Spot Chronicles?

2005-07-18T01:00:00.000-04:00

More than a hundred million sex acts take place every day, according to the World Health Organization. Men and women have practiced procreative sexual intercourse for about a hundred thousand years. Calculations suggest then, that since about 98,000 BC, humans have had sex about 1200 trillion times to date.

G-Spot Chronicles is an erotic novel set in Brooklyn New York, called G-Spot Chronicles. Each chapter is a fresh, new story of black eroticism, forbidden desire, and outlawed pleasures.

G-Spot Chronicles is a story about the sex lives of an auspicious group of friends, living in the heart of Bed-Sty.

The chronicles begin with Raymond, who is struggling to end his highly erratic, distressing, ‘drauma-cidal’ yet pleasurable relationship with Cassandra, a woman he is deeply infatuated with sexually. Only Cassandra doesn’t make this conceivable, with her mouth-watering sexuality, and her unwillingness to give back the keys.

Then there’s Kim: newly divorced, undersexed, and icy. She is secretly on a quest for sexual self, and answers to her inner pleas for gratification and sexual exploration. Her best friend Sharon, is a quiet, secretive erotic dancer, who gets involved with Shon, a porn publisher and womanizer, a man she desired for a long time, sexually. Together Kim and Sharon share sexual experiences that surprise them endlessly…

Debra is the professional lay of the lot, and of the entire borough of Brooklyn. Making her mark in life, with her slew of sex parties, where she is the only female participant, receiving all the attention. She is a shameless home wrecker, with an agenda no one knows about…

Kareem is a quiet, mild-mannered man, with sex constantly on the brain. He and Raymond swap stories, out-doing one another’s narrative experiences every time.

I grew up in Brooklyn, in the very area in which this novel is based. Having attended elementary and junior high school with kids who were more forth-coming with the intricate details of their sexual experiences and fantasies, I have been over-exposed the concept of the act. At age 10, still a virgin, I had my first orgasm, while reading “The New Stepmother” by Steve Taylor, one of my mom’s erotic novels; thus, throwing away my Barbie dolls, and ushering in a lifestyle change: masturbation. By the 7th grade, I wrote an erotic letter to a boy as a prank, that was so highly sexed, I had my allowance revoked, and I was grounded till I turned 18. I studied Creative Writing and Print Media in college, and wrote an erotic article for an editorial press on campus, (MACE) which earned me CUNY-wide recognition, and crank calls on the day it hit the student body. I have just completed G-Spot Chronicles, and am hard at work, writing book 2: G-Spot Chronicles 2: The Chronicles Continue.

The summer months are dominated by a good plot and hot, scandalous, etched in your mind sex. Memorable exploits are what epitomize G-Spot Chronicles.

ass

2005-07-18T00:54:00.000-04:00

There's something about this object that makes dudes lose their minds. One of these in a pair of tight jeans is just enough to make a man lose his trait of thought. He may even follow it down a street he had no intention of going down. It causes him to whistle, cat call, fantasize, even try to cop a feel. One of these at the Labor Day parade in Brooklyn New York, is a dream come true..."oops, sorry" is all he needs to say, to be excused for a grope.

2005-07-18T00:31:00.000-04:00

LINKS:

2005-07-15T10:26:00.000-04:00

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Screenings And Stuff

2005-06-07T13:53:00.000-04:00

The screening at Sugar was a success. Met actors, bankers, writers, photographers, filmmakers, producers, illustrators, and directors. Roderick Giles and Rodney Parnther (Producers) had the two films played: "The Marriage Counselor" and "The Engagement Party", and everyone enjoyed what they saw. They laughed and clapped excessively. Guys yedded at Raymond about his keys. Of course as the writer, I was on cloud nine. Bonz Malone, a dude I knew from my hanging out and writing all day days in the village was there, too, so it was the first time I had seen him in about 10 years. He's producing and making decisions; as you may know, he had a hand in Brooklyn Babylon, a great film about a Jewish woman finding love with a black man.

Tonight, I gave out copies of Debra's Little Black Book. People were intruiged.

Word on the street is that someone wants to publish G-Spot Chronicles, a black lawyer. I am yet to get the details of who this person is, and I'll keep you posted. I'm shopping around for the best publishing house for my work, 'cause sometimes I find a lot of typos in black publishing house' books. I need to be at a house that doesn't let that happen.

That's where the BEA comes in. I attended the Book Expo at Jacob Javits Center a few days ago, and I met a few good black publishers. One of the publishing houses that I had a quam with due to typos, has hired a new editor, which is encouraging. I also met the likes of R.L. Stine, Tannis Blackman, Sam Ulano, Rique Johnson, Jon Simon, Nane Quartay, ReShonda Tate, Michael Baptiste, and Zane, among many others. I was interning with a few others, in the largest coming-together of publishers, agents, authors, and book buyers in the country and abroad. It was great, and it was a privaledge.

That's all for now. Today, I'm hangin' out with my wonderfully generous and sweet fiance and my sons. The weatherman says it's gonna be (90 degrrees, so that means I'm outa here!

FACESITTER

G-Spot Chronicles, The Book

2005-04-11T13:27:00.000-04:00

G-Spot Chronicles, The Book

Wassup With Your G-Spot?

2005-04-11T12:48:00.000-04:00

Many ancient cultures believed that their orgasms were spiritual experiences, which is quite comprehensible. The sensation of rapture during the immediate aftermath of orgasm, is usually paralleled with a religious experience, as many often announce, “Oh God!” The biggest atheist can find themselves screaming out the Father’s name during that moment. With oxytocin and other pleasure-inducing chemicals flowing through the body, it’s easy to confuse an extremely magnificent bodily consciousness with an awed, magical metaphysical sensation of harmony with the cosmos.

While philosophers quarrel about the numinous experience of orgasm, I am busy writing about it, and then some. G-Spot Chronicles is a story about the sex lives of an auspicious group of friends, living in the heart of Bed-Sty. The chronicles begin with Raymond, who is struggling to end his highly erratic, distressing, ‘drauma-cidal’ yet pleasurable relationship with Cassandra, a woman he is deeply infatuated with sexually. Only Cassandra doesn’t make this conceivable, with her mouth-watering sexuality, and her unwillingness to give back the keys…then there’s

Kim: newly divorced, undersexed, and icy. She is secretly on a quest for sexual self, and answers to her inner pleas for gratification and sexual exploration. Her best friend Sharon, is a quiet, secretive erotic dancer, who gets involved with Shon, a porn publisher and womanizer, a man she desired for a long time, sexually. Together Kim and Sharon share sexual experiences that surprise them endlessly…

Debra is the professional lay of the lot, and of the entire borough of Brooklyn. Making her mark in life, with her slew of sex parties, where she is the only female participant, receiving all the attention. She is a shameless home wrecker, with an agenda no one knows about…
Rashid is a quiet, mild-mannered man, with sex constantly on the brain. He and Raymond swap stories, out-doing one another’s narrative experiences every time.

I grew up in Brooklyn, in the very area in which this novel is based. Having attended elementary and junior high school with kids who were more forth-coming with the intricate details of their sexual experiences and fantasies, I have been over-exposed the concept of the act. At age 10, still a virgin, I had my first orgasm, while reading “The New Stepmother” by Steve Taylor, one of my mom’s erotic novels; thus, throwing away my Barbie dolls, and ushering in a lifestyle change: masturbation. By the 7th grade, I wrote an erotic letter to a boy as a prank, that was so highly sexed, I had my allowance revoked, and I was grounded till I turned 18. I studied Creative Writing and Print Media in college, and wrote an erotic article for an editorial press on campus, (MACE) which earned me CUNY-wide recognition, and crank calls on the day it hit the student body. I have just completed G-Spot Chronicles, and am hard at work, writing book 2: G-Spot Chronicles 2: The Chronicles Continue.

Clarendon Entertainment has produced and filmed two of the stories from G-Spot Chronicles, in a short film format, which should be available this summer.

I've included an excerpt here from the book. Feel free to e-mail me at facesitter71@yahoo.com, with questions and comments, or simply post them on this page.

Sincerely Yours,

FACESITTER

Story 5
Welfare Queen
©2003 Marsha Lewis AKA Ocean Koné

Petra was a chocolate, big-busted, man lovin’ beauty, with a convincing weave, big flirty eyes, solid luscious hips and thick lips. The ultimate eye candy, she used every element of her feminine mystique, to feed off a man’s fantasies, by wearing skimpy, alluring clothing. Any color man would do; pleasure and cash were what she sought.

Damn near every man in Brooklyn had her in his grasp at some point in their sexual lives. Petra had an uncanny preference for another woman’s man. Any woman’s man. If a man was out with his wife or his girlfriend and their children, he was a prime target. Somehow, she could zero in on the knowledge of the honeymoon being over. Or that feeling fathers get; you know, that feeling just after the doctor tells them they can’t have sex for six weeks after she’s given birth, and just before the stitches in her pussy heal. Petra would zero in on that vulnerability, and she’d fuck the poor guy royally. Her pussy would be tender from the frustration he lived with, and she loved it. Petra would encourage them to take it out on her. She wanted to internalize all of that, and feed off it. It kept her getting ample dick with no strings, and she enjoyed the variety, just like any other guy.
She didn’t have any children, and she was resolute to keep it that way. If God had it His way, Petra Lames would be the mother of a small army, since she was such a shameless whore. Abortion was the woman’s middle name. She was a walking cemetery. With children around, she couldn’t invite guys over and have private parties all night, one of her favorite past times, and ways of making ends meet.

Every day, at least during the summer months, Petra would rise for the day and have a cool shower. She would brush the taste of dick out of her mouth and have a meal, ‘cause a girl’s gotta keep up her strength. Then she’d go out in front of her apartment building, wearing a robe and a thong, so that her ass would jiggle through the satin. Her robe was just short enough, so that when she sat on her stoop and left her legs slightly open, passersby would see her painted-on panties hugging her pussy.

When Petra went out, especially in the summer months, she loved wearing barely enough to cover her body, making her curves and contours irresistible. She especially loved wearing her Tuesday’s Butt-Huggin’ Punany-Riders. Men stared, drooled, speechless, unable to kick those lines that get the panties.

It was hot as hell outside the day she went home, and found a woman sitting on her couch, looking mad as hell. She didn’t know this chick from Adam. It was her man that she had known quite well, and Miss Thing wasn’t having it.

As she entered, she spotted the young woman, and tossed her keys onto the table. The woman jumped up off the couch and approached Petra, like she was ready to fight.
“You been fuckin’ my husband?”
“Who are you? And what the fuck are you talkin’ about?”
“You heard me, bitch! I axed you if you been screwin’ my man!”
“Look, any man I screw, ain’t got no leash ‘round his neck, or no receipt in his pocket. These men are out here, free to freak who they want. Don’t be mad at me, be mad at your man.”
“So you have been fuckin’ him.”
“Who is your lousy man? I fuck a couple of guys.”
“His name is Rodney.”
“Will, hmmm…sounds familiar.”
“So you a ho—“
“Yeah, I’m a happy ho, bitch!”

The woman slammed her fist against the side of Petra’s face, and she fell backwards onto the floor. She held her face.

“I have three babies for that nigga, bitch. If I eva, eva, smell your stankin’ assed pussy on his dick again, I’m gonna come over here, and give you a hysterectomy. Understand, ho? Leave other bitch’s men ALONE!”

The woman left the apartment, but not before pushing the stereo onto the floor, smashing it into several pieces. Petra wasn’t worried about that stereo. She would get one of her men to replace it. She was hoping’ that it would be this bitch’s man.

She got up, dusted herself off. She made her way over to the phone and called Rodney. He answered the phone, like he was running a switchboard for possible conquests.

“Hello?” he seemed to sing.
“Hey, babe. Wassup?”
“You. I’m comin’ over there later to tap that ass, aiight?”
“Your woman was here, talkin’ ‘bout am I fuckin’ you?”
“Word? I told her to stay cool. Damn, did she act up?”
“Of course she did, but I’m okay.“
“Damn, she gotta understand, wildin’ out don’t keep a man, it just drives him away. I’m breakin’ it off with her anyway, she knows that.”
“Well, from what I heard, I’m a home wrecker.”
“Naw, babe. Naw…shit was goin’ wrong way before I got wit chu. She don’t wanna give me no sex…what’s a brotha supposed to do, go without?”
“You’re leavin’ her?
“She knows that…so listen, I’m comin’ over there to blow that back out, aiight? So be home tonight.”
“Sounds like a plan. Just make sure you give your girl some dick before you holla at me, ‘cause I’m not goin’ to blows over some dick, you got me?”
”Yeah, I got chu, baby.”
“How bad could the sex be between ya’ll be?”
“Look, don’t worry about her. She’s lookin’ at the front door. You and me gon’ kick it in a minute, aiight?”
“Cool.” Petra hung up, and went in to the bathroom, to have a cool shower.

She felt a little stupid for letting that woman get away with knocking her ass down, but the sweetest revenge, was givin’ that bitch’s man more pussy than he could handle.
After she caressed her own body with Victoria Secret lotion, she dressed herself in her favorite black teddy, and sipped carelessly on some gin and juice. Petra looked around and picked up the scraps of the stereo that shattered about the room, and plotted in her mind, about all the sex she was going to throw on Rodney.

G-Spot Chronicles, The Book

CHAPTER 1: LOVE, GHETTO STYLE

GET THE G-SPOT CHRONICLES SOUNDS NOW AVAILABLE ON ITUNES!

DID YOU GET YOUR COPY OF G-SPOT CHRONICLES THE BOOK YET?

THE BOOK'S HERE, FINALLY!

CHECK OUT MY WEB SITE

NEVERMIND LULU...IT'S COMING OUT ON IUNIVERSE!

JUST FOR THE RECORD...

http://thegspotchroniclessaga06.blogspot.com

GOT URBAN S.L.A.M.?

SAY WORD???

GOT UPDATES?

GREETINGS...

SO YOU THOUGHT ALL I DID WAS WRITE?

HAVE YOU PURCHASED YOUR COPY?

G-SPOT CHRONICLES UPDATE

KONE PRODUCTIONS

NEWS ON G-SPOT CHRONICLES' NEXT TWO STORIES

Will Blagrove as RAYMOND in "THE ENGAGEMENT PARTY"

JOANES PROSPER ASSOCIATE PRODUCED "THE ENGAGEMENT PARTY"

Nedra Mc Clyde's Resume (HER PART WAS CREATED FOR THE FILM)

RAYAN LAWRENCE AS KAREEM

NICHOLE ROBINSON AS "DEBRA" AKA "PETRA" IN "THE MARRIAGE COUNSELOR" IS NO BEGINNER

Story 21: Girls’ Night Out

G-Spot Chronicles Short Films On Sale Via URBAN S.L.A.M. DVD

Story 20: Jilted

THIS SH*T AIN'T FOR KIDS

have you heard of the largest sex blog online?

HAVE YOU SEEN FACESITTER'S FLICKS?

HAPPY NEW YEAR

IS MY BOOK OBSCENE?

WANT AD FOR PUBLISHER

Count, Author Of DANGEROUSLY IN LOVE

G-Spot Chronicles Update

http://myvastwritingworld.blogspot.com

G-Spot Chronicles Called The First Black Erotic Series

Proud Moments

An Interview With FACESITTER

Search Engine Submitter

Power Moves

Screenings And Stuff

G-Spot Chronicles Lives

You Just Wanna Fuck Me

What's Wrong With 'Porn On Paper'?

Love From My Sistas At BBLSS

The Anatomy Of The Clitoris

G-Spot Chronicles Synopsis

The Male G-Spot

Different Types of Orgasm

The Deal With Female Ejaculation

What's A G-Spot Anyway?

Flickr

JOHN H. JOHNSON DIES

WANT AD FOR PUBLISHER

Nothing Is Impossible

The Publishing Game

FULL CONTACT KINK

2005 Harlem Book Fair

NEWS/Welfare Queen AKA "The Marriage Counselor"

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Current Events

What Is G-Spot Chronicles?

ass

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LINKS:

Screenings And Stuff

G-Spot Chronicles, The Book

Wassup With Your G-Spot?