"I don't think I can teach you the secrets of the universe in ten minutes..." I said to him over the phone. He laughingly replied, "What about in fifteen?" The truth is, I took him to paradise in ten minutes. By the sound of his roaring climax, he saw GOD/dess. I keep replaying the moment over in my head, because it was so sensual, so satisfying... GOD/dess I LOVE him! The question is, if he only had ten minutes to share with me, would he utilize those ten minutes to focus and pleasure me exclusively, as I have pleasured him?

Please stay. Don't go. Keep me company for a few minutes more. Tell me of your adventures in life. I want to hear your hopes, dreams, aspirations. Let's laugh together about life's interactions. Inhale the possibilities, exhale any fears, doubts. Touch me. Remind me how wonderful it is to be a woman, friend, lover, confidant. Don't rush. Explore this moment fully. If we don't make the time to love one another, then time will slip through out fingers. We hold time in our hearts. Within our hearts the possibilities are infinite. We're the core of divine and magickal LOVE.

Once again I ask the million dollar question, "If he had only ten minutes to spend with me, would he be as eager to pleasure me first, as I have him?" Good question, isn't it? You know what I want? I want him to heal me as I have healed him. I want him to "want" to learn all the secrets to pleasuring me. I want to enjoy pleasurable sensations I've never experienced with anyone before, and roar. That's the missing piece of the puzzle. It's the thing he hasn't given enough focus to. Go back, look...see the promise.

I am a magickal being incarnated into the female human form. My world is a bit "Willy Wonka," a chunk of "Harry Potter," retro "Alice in Wonderland," reruns of "Buffy The Vampire Slayer", and a double scoop "Charmed." I don't view the world in 3D. I view the world multi-dimensionally. I believe sensuality is spiritual. When you touch me, you feel comforting warmth. When I touch you, I see your deepest desires and secrets. Lifetimes flash before me. Parallel universes exist. Unconditional Love is what I seek. Hope is who I am. I am you, YOU are me. 1000x

Conscious touching. One of the things I've been focused on is how touching affects one's energy field. We as a society don't touch enough. Oftentimes we get caught up in the the "traditional/acceptable" forms of touching. All of us have experienced the "obligatory" hug, kiss, or handshake. If we are to expand our consciousness, we must began to recognize how the energy of touch affects our health and well being. How difficult is it for us to show affection openly, without fear of judgment, or what others might think? Don't each of us deserve to be touched lovingly, completely?

"MOTHER I FOUND A GRAY HAIR!!!!!!!!" she lamented.

"Where?" I asked.

"Where?!!!" she asked incredulously, "My head of course! Where else would I have gray hair?!!!!"

"On your cha cha." I replied.

"Mother!!!! What are you talking about?! My hair isn't gray there." she said, hands on her hips.

"How do you know?" I said matter-of-factly, "When's the last time you checked your cha cha hairs? Those gray ones creep up over night, and the last thing you need is for some man's head to pop up from down there and say, "Baby...you got a gray hair."

Just when I think I "know," the universe challenges me, which leaves me mystified and amazed. Everything I'm experiencing is an essential part of my personal evolution, and within that process, important truths are manifesting. My life would be incomplete without My Beloved Children, My Sisters, and My Dearest Friends. I deeply love My Twinkie. I need him. I love holding him. I love laughing with him. I love listening to him talk. I can't bear the thought of EVER doing anything that hurts him. My life would continue to be full if he weren't present, but my heart wouldn't.

Early this morning at 4 a.m., after I had posted my 100 words, I narrowly missed tripping over my pussycat and squashing her; instead I slammed head first into the sharp edge of a wall. The impact sounded like a watermelon being dropped. I passed out naked, and awoke covered in blood, reminiscence of "Carrie" at the prom. I went to the doctors, clutching my security "t-shirt." Diagnosis: Crushed scalp; slight concussion; and a broken fingernail....DAMN! By the time I got home, feeling broken and alone, I began crying like a little girl; all I wanted was My Twinkie.

My Declaration of Independence: I, the Goddess Quanita, am FREE. I choose to surround myself with individuals who are colorful, playful, loving, magickal, healing, and wonderful. I choose to explore all possibilities necessary for my own personal growth and highest good. I choose to say, "NO!" to unhealthy, dysfunctional, relationships. I choose success and prosperity on all levels, emotionally, mentally, physically, spiritually, and financially. I choose to love fully, completely, no inhibitions, no deceptions. I choose to be happy, healthy, and MAGNIFICENT. I give myself permission to be beautiful. Who "I AM" matters more to me than anyone else's opinion.

The vehicle rocked in rhythm of their lovemaking. One hand cradled his ass, a finger gently stroking the silky, outer rim, while the other masterfully stroked his angry penis into her skillful mouth. "Don't stop..." he begged, knowing he was at the brink of no return. Pulling back, she gazed into his yearning eyes. "Oh God Quanita..." he said, smiling like the Cheshire Cat. "Ready?" she teased. Swooping on his massive cock, she lusciously licked it like ice cream melting on a sugar cone. His back arched involuntarily, toes curling, he roared with passion, sweet cum exploding down her throat.

What's a Goddess gotta do to get pink roses for Valentine's Day?! Since I was a little girl, I've fantasized about THE most wonderful, handsome, man lovingly giving me pink roses for Valentine's Day. Not red roses. Not yellow roses. PINK roses. And not just any pink roses I tell you. I'm talking about "romantic" pink roses. There's a HUGE difference between "obligatory" pink roses, and "romantic" pink roses. Presentation is everything! I want the passionate hugs and kisses. I want the Barry White "Oh baby, baby, baby...I'm gonna love you, love you, love you..." moment.

It could happen.

Every once in a while, I take inventory of my life, my choices, my issues. Here's what I discovered:

I AM proud of myself for facing my fears, moving forward, and not backwards.

I LOVE the friends and family I AM surrounded and supported by.

I AM enjoying being "me."

I AM embracing the wonderful, magickal parts of me, so many tried to suppress "in my best interests."

I LOVE my connection to the divine.

I AM reclaiming my sensuality.

NO ONE forces me to do anything I don't want to do.

I DO love My Twinkie.

I AM happy.

At 19, I believed in fairy tales. I recognized the importance of "sacrifice" for the "highest good" of the family. I scrimped and saved. I attempted to emulate "June Cleaver." I tried to make everyone happy. When my children needed, I made sure their needs were met. If my husband wasn't happy, it was my fault - A S S H O L E.

What about me?

What about my needs, wants, and desires.

When is it my turn?

I've waited in line long enough, AND I've allowed others cut in front of me!!!

IT'S MY TURN NOW.

I AM the priority.

I AM the fairy tale.

My first Valentine: In the 5th grade, I sat next to Charles Cook. He was THE most handsomest, most popular, boy in school! All the girls wanted his attention, and he was constantly barraged by admirers. One Valentine's Day, I opened my Valentine exchange shoe box, eagerly exploring what I'd received. At first glance, the Valentine I opened was similar to the rest, but these handwritten words stood out, "Will you go steady with me? You are cute, Charles C." Word spread fast. In an instant, not only were Charles and I going steady, rumor had it we'd FRENCH KISSED.

I can't sleep.

I keep thinking about what happened yesterday, and it's making me so sad and sick to my stomach.

How could I have been so foolish?

Allow me to introduce myself, I am a "convenience." That's right, don't worry about my feelings, my needs, my pleasure, my obligations, my schedule, because I'll drop everything just for you.

Oh and by the way, "Thanks for stopping by..." Let's just pat the fat girl on the head, give her some "last minute" flowers (the day AFTER Valentine's Day mind you), so you can go home and fuck your lipless wife.

The moon smiled
upon the weary traveler
guiding him with her silver rays
into the heart of "all that is."

He felt her embrace
cascade magickally throughout his being,
elevating him to the stars,
illuminating him like the sun.

The beams of their hearts
merged together creating 1000 universes and galaxies
where love and laughter sparked the foundation
of ascension and bliss.

He is her sun.
He is her warmth.
He is her Beloved.

The rain tickled the sun's face
bringing forth a bouquet of beautiful flowers
for the moon,
joyfully received...
until the black hole appeared,
wilting the flowers...

Okay, so what time is it now? 3:44 a.m. 44 is very symbolic for me. Anytime I see the number 44 it means he's thinking about me. Anytime he sees a 44 I'm thinking about him. I wonder if he knows that? It can show up just about anywhere, whether on a license plate, building, billboard, etc... In numerology the number 44 is "The balance between spiritual and physical, the reconfiguring of our evolutionary labyrinth. As Above, So Below. The creation of the foundation of our New Lives." 44 is when we were exploring amazing, loving, manifestations of the divine together.

The divine has a sense of humor. Case in point: Today I was getting ready to take a road trip. I was running very late. I dash out of the house to my car, only to discover it's covered with snow. "DARN!!!" I grumble to myself, "I don't have time to clean my car off!!!" I pointed my fingers at the sky, stomped my foot, and yelled indignantly, "AFTER ALL I DO FOR YOU, THE LEAST YOU COULD DO IS CLEAN OFF MY CAR!!!" Just then - WHOOSH - a powerful gust of wind blew every snowflake off the car onto me.

I had an erotic dream last night. I was in a crowded store, moving towards the exit. "He" was there. "Hey!" he shouted, throwing a warm blanket over us, kissing me seductively on the lips. His arms wrapped around me tightly, drawing me into his embrace. He took my hand into his, placing it firmly on his aroused penis. I gasped in shocked pleasure, feeling his throbbing yearning. All around us, the crowd moved, while we uninhibitedly explored each others bodies. Then he mounted me, thrusting and grinding my pussy, causing me to moan in ecstasy, as the blanket fell.

It has come to my attention, that there is an epidemic of "God damn, good looking, financially successful, corporate men" who have non functioning penises.

The story is the same: College education, six figure job, trophy wife, two point five kids, beautiful home, cars, money... "EVERYTHING" that is "THE American Dream."

But guess what?!

They aren't happy.

They are miserable.

They don't even know who they are.

So they go to great lengths to feel like a man: Strippers, call girls, porno, Viagra, affairs...

Word's out I have the "secret" to resurrecting their cocks...

They're right...

The secret is:









"LOVE."

"I thought you would be older." my new client said with a surprised intonation in her voice.

"Why?" I inquired.

"Your reputation." she said.

"My reputation?" I questioned.

"I can't believe someone as young as you can be as wise as they say you are." she retorted.

"How old do you think I am?" I asked.

"Early 30's." she responded confidently.

"Nah..." I replied laughing.

"Am I close?!!!" she asked, "Come on...I've got to be close!"

"Nope." I said, shaking my head and smiling.

"There's NO WAY you are over 35!!!"

The truth is:

Goddesses are ageless and timeless.

I woke up with a HUGE, UGLY, stress pimple on the right side of my chin. No use in trying to "cover it up," the damn thing has it's own e-mail address. Squeezing is futile, but I do it anyway, causing it to be bruised, swollen, and ANGRY. Now it's stupid friends will be wanting to show up! "Back it up zit heads, there's no party going on here!" :::Slathers on the zit zapping creme::: And I'm not one of those chicks who put on tons of concealer "thinking" it'll be camouflaged, all that does is make it more crusty.

One moment in time, craddled throughout eternity, as we gazed deeply into one another's eyes. Our hearts, minds, and spirits merged into an understanding of the divinity of our coupling. "I don't ever want to hurt you." he whispered, embracing me tightly. He knows what would hurt me. He's known it all along. Perhaps he also knows hurting me would be a mortal wound to himself and visa versa. Pulling me close as I drew away, he said, "Don't let go, not yet..."

GOD/DESS I LOVE HIM.

I spiralled into the abyss of his comforting embrace.

Stand on tiptoes, celestial cum.

One of my favorite things to do is "listen." Taking time to "listen" has helped me to hear things I might miss. I hear myriads of emotions when I stop and listen. How many times have I asked someone, "How are you?" and they have responded with either, "Okay" or "Fine." Who do they think they are fooling?! I hear and see what's behind those words. Things aren't always "Okay" or "Fine" I want to hear the truth. Doesn't it feel better to "tell the truth?" I think so. Besides, eventually the truth is revealed.

"How are you?!"

I'm listening.

I swear I try to resist him! But when he holds me I melt; and when he starts caressing me, it feels so good, I can't think clearly. I get lost in his kisses, and pretty soon, out pops his penis. I'm fine as long as I don't look at his eyes or penis. But the minute I look into his eyes, my mouth is on his penis. This last time, I gave it all to him. All the magick. Everything. I didn't hold anything back. I couldn't. I gave him a glimpse of truth and "took his breath away..."

Do you think of me as much as I think of you?

Do you miss me as much as I miss you?

Do you wonder what I'm doing, as much as I wonder what you're doing?

Do you ever close your eyes and remember our last time together?

Can you feel me as strongly as I feel you?

When you thought of me, did you touch yourself?

I want you to do that.

Touch yourself.

Please.

Show me how much you yearn for me to pleasure you.

Because you know I want to pleasure you.

I live to pleasure you.

The more I play, the more I grow, the happier I AM. I thrive on exploring the hidden infinite possibilities of healing with universal energy. I LOVE being able to do what it is I do, because there's never a dull moment. All I discover, alone and with others, amplifies healing on many levels. I love knowing I don't have to be anyone but who I truly AM. I AM FABULOUS! So what if I don't look like a freaking, anorexic, Victoria Secret's Barbie Doll!!! I'm REAL. I LOVE the REAL me.

I AM THE GODDESS.

Accept NO wannabe imitations.

I rushed into the store, late as usual, as I turned the corner, Ken grabbed me and said, "Where have you been?!!! I've been waiting for you all day!!!" He took me off guard and I looked at him puzzled, "Me? You were waiting for me? Do you have an appointment?" I asked "No," he said smiling, "I lost your phone number, and I wanted to ask you out." I looked deeply into his eyes. Yup, he was smitten by the Goddess. Although I was very flattered, he's not My Twinkie. No one compares to My Twinkie. No one. NEXT!