Sex Eetgrossesx Immediate Watch 15,500 full-length movies in HD!

Monthly Archives: June 2014

You are browsing the site archives by month.

She feels great modeling in the nude

Ever since I can recall, I’ve had a hard time feeling good about my body.

Most of the friends I grew up with in Fairfax, Virginia felt this way, too. Insecurity was normal for our group of white, middle class girls. In fact, we used to joke that if you did like your body, something was obviously wrong with you.

According to me, I was “too fat” in fifth grade when I first looked at myself in my gymnastics leotard. I was too fat to be on the high school gymnastics team; too fat to date.

In college, I was too fat to act on stage; too fat to go to parties.111420

Throughout my adolescence and young adulthood, my weight fluctuated along with my self-esteem.

When I was 21, I hit my heaviest, 220 pounds. At 5’9″, this was way too fat for me to live in the United States. So I moved to Belfast, Northern Ireland.

Belfast was an inclusive, community-minded town. Its culture placed more value on art and music than on getting ahead.

In Belfast, I discovered a freedom and playfulness I hadn’t felt since I was a young child. Something in me opened up and relaxed.

And the extra weight disappeared.

Over the 12 years I lived in Ireland, I shed 60 pounds. It was as if I didn’t need extra protective padding there.

Oh, on occasion, I still thought I was too fat. But nobody else did. My boyfriend’s grandmother complimented me, saying I was “healthy and well-fed.” The local shopkeeper called me a “lovely, big girl.”

For me, Northern Ireland was a psychic and cultural cleansing. Living in a country with a history of famine, I came to believe that my healthy, strong body should be valued and appreciated.

Living among people who had lost family and friends in the Troubles was extremely humbling. My preoccupation with weight became embarrassing. When I’d obsess over eating a scone, my boyfriend would laugh and say it was the “Yankee Doodle Dandy” in me. Then he’d say, without laughing, that he wished he had my problems.

Still, when I turned 33, it was time to move back to the United States.

Sweet Ebony

I was pissed off at men. Here I was 32 years old and kept picking the wrong bastard men! This last date was the final straw. This asshole salesman thought he could get a little too aggressive with me and definitely would not take NO for an answer. I kicked his ass out of my apartment and was livid! I was tired of this crap. Out of sheer frustration and anger, I started crying and walked over to my neighbor Tawny’s apartment and knocked quietly on the door.

Tawny opened her door, sleepy-eyed, and looked at me in shock.

“Damn, girl, are you ok?” she pulled me inside, “My God, are you hurt?”

Tawny and I had become fast friends after she moved in next door six months ago. She was in her 40s, divorced, and she and I had a lot in common when it came to picking the wrong men. She gave me a lot of good advice and was like a sister to me. She was feisty with a great sense of humor and we always had a great time together.

“Tawny, I’m so sick of this shit. I’m tired of these men who think they can pull this aggressive crap with me. I’m just so tired of it,” I started crying again and she pulled me to her.

“Shh girl, it’s ok. Don’t let the bastards get you down. It was one bad date. Just let it go. Have a glass of wine and you’ll feel better,” she stroked my back and my hair and I felt very comforted in her arms.

She went into the kitchen and got a bottle of my favorite red wine and poured us a glass. I took a big gulp, wiping the make-up from underneath my eyes.

“God, I look horrid!” I laughed through my tears.

“Yeah, you look like crap, girl!” she teased me and handed me a tissue.

She turned on some soft jazz and we sat and talked and sipped wine. She always knew how to make me feel better and laugh.

I was a feeling a little buzzed and a little silly.

“Well, I think that’s it, Tawny!” I announced jokingly, “that jerk was it. I’m swearing off men for good!”

“Yeah right, sweetie, the next big black dick that walks down the street, you’ll be all over him!” she squatted my leg, laughing her sweet, tinkling giggle.

“Hey now, that’s what big black dildos are for!” I teased back smiling at her.

“What the hell girl? and what do YOU KNOW about big black toys huh?” she looked directly into my eyes, flirting with me.

How young is too young for porn?

Last February, the former Miss Delaware Teen USA, Melissa King, had to relinquish her crown after it was revealed that she had shot a hardcore scene for the website Girls Do Porn. King was paid a meager $1,500 for her performance. She’d just turned 18.

“I thought it would be fun, and it sounded like I needed the money, so I just decided to do it,” King says to the cameraman in the short clip.

Although she seems to be moving on from the incident—she’s reportedly a freshman at the University of Arkansas—the scandal prompted some to debate whether, in the age of social media, 18 was too young to make the potentially life-altering decision of doing porn.

A few weeks ago, that conversation was reignited when adult film director Axel Braun announced he will no longer be casting actors under the age of 21. Younger performers, Braun wrote in a statement to adult industry news site AVN, are not as well-equipped to handle the repercussions of an adult entertainment career: