All posts by Kristi K

Kristi K is a part-time blogger and full-time lezzie. Born, bred and cultivated in Miami, you can usually find her peeking out her window for Amazon packages or in an airplane waiting area headed to somewhere fabulous (with an app full of Groupon vouchers).

Flight 2828 Pt. Two: Crash Landing (an erotica)

continued from Flight 2828 Pt One: Take Off

As I struggled to get my bag out of the overhead compartment, Cat slinked down the aisle and off the plane without even a goodbye. I hustled to catch her and saw a slight trace of her tell tale scarf head into the ladies room. I followed her while dodging perplexed looks. I was on a mission and that mission was her.

“Catrina…” I said in a raised voice. “Catrina it’s Kris”. At the end of the row of stalls I could see the handicap stall open. With a hurried flick of the wrist I found myself, Cat and our carryons together again in the crowded stall.

“Umm I wanted to give you the money I….”

“Unzip me”

Continue reading Flight 2828 Pt. Two: Crash Landing (an erotica)

Flight 2828 Pt. One: The Takeoff (an erotica)

How did I get here? I still feel flush as I finally open my eyes. It takes a minute for them to focus as the harsh fluorescent bulbs bear down on my face.

Did this really just happen? It couldn’t have just happened. They must have laced my airplane size vodka with some form of hallucinogenic because things like this just don’t happen to me. As I gently lick my lips and take a deep breath I realize that the taste on my lips definitely was not chapstick, and the aroma I smelled was a seductive mix of Chanel No 5 and a forbidden intoxicant that you can not buy in a bottle. I quickly lock the bathroom stall door so that my rude awakening would not be coupled by an even ruder interruption.

As my mind is still a swirl of vivid images of animalistic grabs and bites I look down at what fell out of my lap… a turquoise scarf… Catrina.
Continue reading Flight 2828 Pt. One: The Takeoff (an erotica)

You Asked For it: Interracial Dating

… now let me first say this it is 3:18am in the morning

Ok so I was on twitter the other day, feeling void of inspiration but desiring to blog so I asked for a topic. And strangely enough the first 5 responses were interracial dating… which took me aback for a moment only because it is not something I discuss (or honestly think about) often. But since I am putting on my sleep deprived thinking cap here is my take on it.. (hopefully I don’t go to far off the mark). Continue reading You Asked For it: Interracial Dating

Almost Falling in Front of A Table Full of Fags is Never Fun

Now let me say this first and foremost, I will be using the word fag a million and three times during this post… and let me tell you why. Because he was wearing a shirt that said… “I am not gay, I am a FAG!”

So anyway… I went to a pool party yesterday off of Biscayne. I am not sure what I expected but it was … cool. I saw the baddest tranny (I always get my terms mixed up) ever. I almost fell in front of a table of fags. I somehow ended up in a fight between a girl and her ex (who she has a restraining order on). And then received a request from said ex while she was peeing in the dark… No really.

Continue reading Almost Falling in Front of A Table Full of Fags is Never Fun

Pussy Sells… (My Turnout – Not A Brooklyn Love Story)

(Part 3 of 3)

Ok, now I must admit my “turn out” story does lean itself to the stereotype… I guess.

I was “in love” once… I swear it seems silly now, but at one time there wasn’t one thing I wouldn’t do for J-boi. See she was older, she was street, she was….broke. It wasn’t until I was too deep and too invested to quit her that I realized that I wasn’t in love with the J-boi of 2006, I was in love with the J-boi of 1996 when she was still hot.

Continue reading Pussy Sells… (My Turnout – Not A Brooklyn Love Story)

Pussy Sells… I Get it From My Mama

(Part 2 of 3)

My father was a hustler and my mother was a premium whore. Even in the 70s, Lady Jay could command 500 a lay. She was gorgeous. Her skin was so warm and smooth to the touch that some of her tricks began to call her China Jay. I would say she had a Foxy Brown in Coffee body, but that wouldn’t do her justice. Her waist was small and her hips so full that you would swear she was a prototype for sexual perfection.

Continue reading Pussy Sells… I Get it From My Mama