{TONGUE FUCKING} FEATURING JENAVIA POWELL

{TONGUE FUCKING} FEATURING JENAVIA POWELL
THE SOUND THAT ACCOMPANIES SUCH AN ENDEAVOR...
https://youtu.be/M1tUP8XXs7w

Jenavia
My pussy need a tongue stroke Or two. Or three and more…. Could you be that tongue for me? Tongue fuck me like You’re licking ice cream on a cone Not too fast, but not too slow either Let me wrap my thick butter cream colored thighs Around your neck… Or would you prefer to hold them up And spread from east to west… Taste my pussy big daddy. Lick my pussy big daddy Eat my pussy big daddy Fuck me with your tongue Just let your tongue fuck me Until I cum Do it like a REAL MAN is supposed to Do it with no shame in your tongue game Suck the juices out of me Make my pussy cream all over your mouth And drip drip drip All over your beard…


Jerald
Them big red thighs and I so lost in your scent... The totality of you... The rise and fall of your chest as viewed from this vantage point where your flower juts so enticing.
The pink lips of your petals so phat... Got me craving a taste. See I want you to lay them legs back as far as they can go so I can explore you with my taste buds. Make you wetter than and lap it up. Let you help my beard to grow. Pussy juice the best fertilizer. twisting those nipples as I plunge my tongue in.... out... in. Hear those excited screams of Big motherfucking Daddy as they escape your vocals and penetrate the air of our existences

Jenavia
Part my plump pink lips As I moan out your name And grab the back of your head Push your head deep down Oh yes faster baby Don’t I taste good? Nice and sweet like a Georgia peach My creamery extends upon you As your tongue plunges Through me Like a jack hammer Causing my body to quake I open my legs as wide as possible So you’ll have no trouble Enjoying me as your meal

Jerald
I feel you as you wrap your legs around my head and I suck a little harder...
Try to put the roots of my tongue into the nether regions of your pussy. Try to vibrate that clit to a higher lever of resonance than it has ever known. I hungry as the red eyed Beast in the dark bushes... Such allusions and I humming lap of you...
I eat of you and savor the sweet taste of thy juice. We so satisfied.
We holding on in tired embraces fall off to sleep.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{BOUND SYMPHONY FANTASTICAL}

{BOUND SYMPHONY FANTASTICAL}
THE SYMPHONIC SOUND OF ALL THIS AND THAT...
https://youtu.be/w-STDX2k_Q0

Cum my dear... Let me take you to my place of illicit dreams where you bound become the playground.
I looking upon you and sucking my breath across my teeth.
Let me talk of the things that I would do to you... The heights I would take you to.
Feathers and light licks as I make your cream flow.
As I make you wonder whats next.
A spank... A caress, as you cry out in pleasure, for tonight you belong to me...
This the stuff of our most fantastic dreams.
I would love to tie you up, rub you in the shadows of your flesh as no one has ever done...
You my slave... I your slave for this is what keeps me fresh...
Your quivering flesh.
Your sighs and moans...
Your begs, and I would fall upon you with all my might...
Try to make you feel me as I beat at the back of your walls...
The base of your lungs.
I crying out to the heavens above as roar.
You tooted up in the air... You spread... You with me in your throat...
The various levels of our intensity as we become sexual fantasy...
The drop of our shattering orgasmical and complete...
The big bang of our boogie oogie oogie... We in the throes of the little death fantastically.
Such vivid imagery splashed across the receptors of our synapses and exploding as flashes of pineal lightning...
My hands pon your body as I captured try to trace the image of your form onto my cave walls.
Cum my dear for I will take you there.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(FUZZY FRUIT DIVERSION)
THE FUZZY FRUIT SOUND...
https://youtu.be/Yhba-s_T7pw

And of your fuzzy fruit wouldst I a man diverge...
The taste, the texture, the pleasure.
I suspended and perusing the beauty that you naked  displayeth unto I... A sigh as deeply breathing inhaleth thy scent...
It exploding in vivid colors on the plains of my pineals where I would lay you out and plunder thee in various ways.
Make you sing that sweet harmony that vibrates the skin of my eardrums...
Marketh I fall yo my knees and lap at the font of your maidenhood.
I who would drink of thy elixir.
I who would play with thy button...
That clit.
I who would blendeth old and new in a sexual diversion that would causeth thy to produce the fruit that would bear the seed that would grow roots...
Become the branches and leaves of the kingdom trees that would throw shade across the black diaspora...
That would throw shade on the lies and hypocrisy...
I tasting of your fuzzy fruit find myself transported across time, space and continuum...
Mmmmm.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(I A MAN SPEAKING OF SHE... SEEN?) DEDICATED TO SHERINA
THE SOUND OF I A MAN'S HEARTBEATS... SEEN?
https://youtu.be/9E9T0PhwCoY

Looking into her eyes I see I finity, the promise of rain on parched surfaces of I epidermical... seen?
Lips so full that I thirsty would slurp of them as plum... seen?
She so full of diversions that I artist would draw portraits with various means... The pen, the pencil and charcoal.
The palette splashed with color as I Picasso would paint her masterpiece.
The curves of her curves becoming...seen?
As subject of the story she would be told to the people time and time again, made into plays and immortalized on movie screens.
A chick flick that men would watch secretly curled up with popcorn... seen?
She the deep sighs as the strokes become form and take on life and breathe... seen?
The breakdown and the breakbeat as people gyrate frantically on the dance floor.
The music played as I warrior would walk onto the battlefield and confront the demons who would besmirch our ancestors memories...
Who would plot our demise as a race... seen?
I the conductor as she plays symphonic on I a man's heartstrings...
A wing of art in a museum in 4017 is she... seen?
Looking at her lovely nose I see these things as I a man speak artistically of she... seen?

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(WE ALPHA AND OMEGA RISE)
THE SOUND OF ROOTS NATTY DIGGING DEEP...
https://youtu.be/UwpaUF4idWY

We embrace pineally on planes beyond these meager existences, these fragile shells that we inhabit.
We have lived since the first African man awoke to find you by his side.
He looking at your form and growing hard, you needing protection for you would  bear the fruit of his seed.
Without you he would cease to be, the loss of you his finality.
We symbiotic stand torn apart, a result of burned libraries and enslaved villagers.
We have survived the worst existence possible, the worst ignorance imaginable, we ignored and verified.
You feeding he and her at your breast while mammy raised our children, taught them to be the best lil niggas they could.
Red, white and blue in the background.
Stars and bars as rappers find ghetto fame at the end of prison sentences.
He now hard for another man cause homies apparently matter more than bitches, jeans dropped low in invitation.
She no longer needs a man cause strap ons never get soft, a woman knows what turns a woman on and so on.
We watch the babies grow and get cut down like weeds in the garden, flowers ignored and trampled under conventional wisdom.
The system playing such a sweet melody backed by the most devastating bass and pumped surround sound into living rooms and onto laptop screens.
Passed off as democracy.
We Sun and Earth, We Iris and Osirus, We Alpha and Omega.
We sigh.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(WILDER DAN AN EXCITED CHIMPANZEE)

(WILDER DAN AN EXCITED CHIMPANZEE)
THE SOUND IN THE BACKGROUND...
https://youtu.be/OuyDmsIbqaI

Show me that monkey...
The one nestled between your legs.
Lay back and throw them wide.
Make my dick throb.
I need to see... I need to fuck.
Pull your legs back as far as they go and stroke that clit... Get them fingers wet.
Oh my fucking goodness.
I want to fuck your brains into a convoluted soup.
Suck your titties and swizzle that clit.
Dick hanging half way down my thigh and slobbering precum.
Pussy so phat and juicy.
Rub that pussy and talk dirty to me.
Such a phat nasty apparition... The incubus that scrambles my thoughts.
I love you nasty and talking like that.
Asking me if I want that kat...
Yeasss!
Bend on over and touch those toes... Lay yo fingers flat on the flo... I as Deadwood Dick hollering Yeee Hawww!!! Riding you doggystyle... Putting my pole all the way to your back wall and extracting it swole and slick.
Your wetness on my rigid dick.
Fuck the neighbors I got to talk to that pretty pussy loud...
Betty get some earplugs or turn the Tv up loud cause I'm gonna thump the pussy floor... Meltdown the pussy core...
Lay back and show me that phat, pretty, pink pussy meat...
Titties flat from gravity, eyes clouded in lust.
That shit...
That shit drives me wild.


JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(THE LONESOME MAN AND A BRIGHT SUNNY DAY)

(THE LONESOME MAN AND A BRIGHT SUNNY DAY)
THE SOUND AS WE THE AUDIENCE WATCH THE SCENE UNFOLD...
https://youtu.be/hd9dqYTddR4

Most people walk by the lonely man and don't even notice him.
To those who do he is but a momentary glance...
He dwells in the most unexpected place.
The lonely man does.
All these people and here he is still lonesome.
A prisoner in a dangling birdcage perched over a precarious precipice.
His thoughts are interrupted by a man who walks up and speaks to the shell of the lonely man and his shell act accordingly.
His shell and the man grasp hands and bump shoulders.
The lonesome man looking through the eyes of his shell sees these things and sighs...
Would that these beings could fathom his depths, submerge themselves into the inky darkness of his deepest trenches where light is swallowed to feed the inky blackness.
The lonely man living in an outer shell that is so well known.
The lonely man contemplates these things.
How could they not see?
He introspective asks himself this question.
A woman passes by and the lonesome man looks at her lines and smells her bouquet.
So delicate and he as connoisseur swirls her around and sips of she.
She is sweet on his synapses and delicate to his pineal but could she bear the brunt of his burden... The weight of his task?
She looking at his outer shell sways her hips a little more and speaks rather softly, her voice as silken as the down on a baby bird.
His shell speaks back and she stops.
His shell and she converse and she gives his shell a number.
It is placed in pocket but lonely man knows.
She cannot bear the magnitude of he.
He watches her phat behind as she walks away.
The promise of something to quench his lust for love.
He sits on the bench and leans back.
People walking by see his shell but not he.
He is the lonesome man.
His shell protects him from society.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(RED CLAY AND SHADE)
THE SOUND WAS PICKED BY DONETTA RHODES...
https://youtu.be/xJIPn_20lxE

You remind me of wayyy back...
Barefeet and red clay.
You remind me of my birth to a Melanic queen and a African king...
Pomegranates and pecans...
Tadpoles and snails and shit.
I birthed in Frog Hole...
Back alleys and drunk folk...
Barber shops and beauty parlors...
I in wonder beholding.
You remind me of our growth... Our potential and I don't wanna let go...
Can't let go...
Each revolution a question, an answer.
You remind me that I gotta, gotta keep livin.
Just anotha day so I can hear your voice.
I such a weary traveler as I know you are.
Stratospheric challenges and dropped down lows...
Angelic rises.
Glinting glass and high rises...
An old brick church with a steeple to the sky.
The bells toll.
I would hold you, I would hold you, I would hold you..
And I don't wanna let go. Nooo.
You remind me that there once might have been perfect love...
That there might be heaven on earth.
You such a part of me...
You remind me of we, born of African clay.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{THE BOOT NOCKA}

{THE BOOT NOCKA}
THE SOUND OF BOOTS KNOCKIN...
https://youtu.be/3LnsrLmqHe0

I want to taste you so bad...
Suck you till you blast an orgasm in my mouth... Screaming and writhing.
I want to lick the corners of your intensity and linger in the crevasses of your identity defined sexually.
Take you to the mountain top and give you an exhilarating ride down...
Drop you stomach in yo feet and spank yo pink meat...
Sorry I'm so rude and crude as I eloquently speak...
But baby yo pussy belongeth unto I the savage beast...
Would you for a minute tasteth of mine meat?
Let me lay you down so that I can dine at he table of thy bounty...
A freak, a treat, an esquisite experience indeed...
You mons veneris pouting so succulently... My phallus standing so swollen at the sight of you thus exposed unto I.
I see you with my forth eye, Lust, love and the promise of some relief as we explosively release liquidly.
Spank that ass and pull it back... that arch, that arch, I thusly swept along fall into the throes of the little death where I catch you waiting...
We having crossed dimensions... Seen?
Kisses pon thy sated flesh as we retreat to the land of satisfied sleep...
I shall dream of thee.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{MODERN BALLET FADING TO BLACK}
THE SOUND AS WE DANCE...
https://youtu.be/XQZ0WrXoIwI

And here we are naked and dancing...
Music in the background and it blends so delicately...
Your flower beckoning...
Mans tree standing strong and we are swept along as grunts and moans...
As drops of sweat dripping and running down brown skin.
As screams of pleasure and cries of excitement...
Smell and touch.
We are the melody and the bassline...
The crescendo as we rising higher become the feeling.
The friction as man drives into the wetness of woman's grip...
The pulsations as he lays deep... A pause as he appreciates she.
As he bends his head and sucks of breast...
A shudder... A tremble.
The beast... The queen bee... They pirouetting so scintillatingly.
The blend as the curtains wave inward from the summer breeze...
As it cools heated flesh entwined and entangled in the throes of passionate embraces and forgotten frustrations.If only for as long as woman is in man's arms...
A sigh and he lies on her stomach...
His and her fluid merged.
The dance complete...
The dancers falling into sedated repose...
Shadows in a darkened room.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{WHO YEAH YAAA}
THE SOUND...
https://youtu.be/vu8ExU353hw

Nothing in this world could surpass thine beauty... Your skin the basis for these lives.

It buried in your mitochondrial and passed along.

It sang in song and testified to in manuscript... Who yeah yaaaa...

Ethiopia and Africa... Egypt and you born of the earth inspire men to aspire.

Your name embedded in the birds whistle, the horn of the car, the people as they rush by...

Black, white and Asian... Who yeah yaaa.

Your variations and mutations millennial such a blessing, such abundance, spoken of in churches where they try to turn you white...
Telling blatant lies as truth... Bleaching your skin with words and images.
Through all these things you have borne me brothers and sisters... Born my seed.
Through all these things I chant these words... Who yeah yaaa.
When we locked in the belly of the beast cried out it was you who listened... Who eased our pain.
It was you who rubbed salve on our whipped metaphorical backs.
Sent us script.
A man nothing without his backbone... Nothing without his blood and vicera... Nothing without the knowledge of who and what he is.
The support of a queen... Who yeah yaaaa.
You the beginning and the end just as surely as man...
Just as surely as promises made in ancient languages as we stood under ancient moons and prepared to lay down and sleep...
Sheen of sweat from our copulation as we mingled merge...
The sun rising as you fertile stood bearing fruit...
Your skin the basis for all hue-man life...
I man chant...
Who yeah yaaa.

{WE BORN OF DARK, SHINE}
THE SOUND OF DARKNESS SHINING...
https://youtu.be/ocy9aTtIL0o

Children we are born of the stars..
Born of the scars.
We have rejoiced and we have suffered.
Been beat down like animals...
Treated like animals in courts all over the world.
Children some say we should forget these things so vital to our survival... These lessons so to speak...
Children that is a mistake.
A most grievous error indeed.
Children some would have you believe that somehow on a fundamental level that you are inferior.
You derived from sin.
Children you must dispute that based on dna and holy scrolls...
On scientific fact and true knowledge.
All life derived from the black for the dark precedes the light...
Without it pressing at the boundary nothing would exist.
No antimatter, no matter.
Plain and simple.
Man born of the ashes of a star used to know these things... Man born black knew these things and built pyramids and great structures in harsh places which stand to these times.
Bear witness to black knowledge
Man born black ventured and conquered the neanderthal... Taught Europeans civilization.
Children you were pure.
No cannibals or niggas in a tree.
Children you formed empires.
Children some would stand in your face and bear false witness...
Tell you things that just aint right.
Would have you believing otherwise if you fall victim to the triknowledgecide taught in classrooms and Sonday school.
Children you are Carbon and hydrogen born...
Thermonuclear and hyperdynamic...
Children ye are stars.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{FRAGILE AND SHATTERING}

{FRAGILE AND SHATTERING}
THE SOUND OF THE ARTIST IN REPOSE...
https://youtu.be/IKs5OsT4dIY

Damn...
I need.
I need her naked and in front of me... I need her naked and on top of me... I need her naked and on bended knee, her pussy dropping from under her ass cheeks so fat.
Got me... Got me hard and dripping wet as my dick presses against my zipper, as it strains to be free to explore the depths of your liquidity.
A moment as I collect myself for I surely would explode into white drops of cream if I stayed buried in these vivid dreams... Wetly.
Damn...
I so fragile...
Shattering gently as the drops of rain falling to a sidewalk.
As insubstantial as a cloud of vapors.
Damn this need...
Beating in the veins of my swollen member as I stroke it with my hand...
Your voice the harbinger of sweet imagery as I imagine your weight pressed down pon me....
Your wetness as it flows around the base of my dick and saturates my balls.
Damn...
I so full.
I needing relief as these queens pass me by...
Booties bouncing in dresses..
Ass hanging out of shorts...
T backs and g strangs got me thanking strange thangs...
The fire and the flame.
I smelling sex under the perfume.
Wanting to inbibe of the nectar... Feel it as it flows cross my taste buds.
Damn...
I'm so fucked up...
In this need...
I need...
I need.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

(OF LIONS, WOLVES AND SCARY ASS SHEEP)

(OF LIONS, WOLVES AND SCARY ASS SHEEP)
THE SOUND OF THE CHOIR AS THE LION SPEAKS...
https://youtu.be/lcSRrKw9v0I

And from the ghettos there arose a cry...
Not a cry of tears but of rage as the denizens of this dismal place realised that they had been duped.
They realised that as they fought over streets, fought over clothes, fought over women and men society had labeled them the problem.
Keep in mind this was the same society that sold them the guns to kill each other and built the prisons to lock them up.
This was the same society that built the liquor stores and supplied the drugs...
The cry became the scream as they watched another child die from the need to live.
To be recognized.
To be somebody in a world where they were considered nobody.
The church looking out stained glass windows blamed the problem on saggy pants and short dresses... On reality T.V. as they hurried home to watch Empire and Atlanta housewives.
As they opened the door to the Mercedes and Caddies parked by the front door of their den of iniquity.
The poor had so long given them money that they fat and rich expected it, teaching the poor that the way out was the10 percent that they gave to the 10 percent.
The truth buried in secret societies that operated in full view of the pew.
The cry became a roar as lions born in concrete jungles stopped wearing sheeps skin and flying flags.
As lions picked up books and learned to speak the language legalese which had been used to keep them mentally and physically enslaved.
The system noticed and introduced them to Molly and her sister Meth... They new arrivals on the block strutted their stuff and sold their pussy to all who would buy.
They together the bitch known as Flakka knocked dicks in the dirt as the overseers newly crowned officers looked the other way.
It's not an epidemic till it hits the suburbs where Chad and Amy attend private institutions with the black preachers kids.
Where the house nigga thinks its their home... "Look at me I live next to massa!"  Only a fraction of a second away from being profiled and killed... The bullet or the jail cell.
Black skin so threatening that even our children lying under the white sheet on asphalt are villified.
Denied justice in a courtroom by a jury of just-us.
Wolves acting like it's a democracy.
Lions such an endangered species as they stand in the ghetto and elicit subsonic... Hated by the church... Hated by the system and hated by the pride...
In the ghetto they are born and in the ghetto they die as those in power breathe a collective sigh.
Once again they have suppressed the cry.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY

{WE BORN OF SALTY WATER} DEDICATED TO DONETTA RHODES

THE SOFTLY PLAYING SOUND...

https://youtu.be/CGvIzFRcRMA

Her tears falling permeate to the depths of my blackened soul where they are absorbed by the ashes...

Her words so soft cause I to tremble for my love has no bounds when it concerns her...

There are no limits to the complexity.

Love so foreign to me has caused I to dredge up feelings that I thought long since buried and I... I say stupid things.

She my heart and it it beats erratically in my chest cavity...

Threatens to explode if I were to lose her...

She my soul and it threatens to leave my body crumpled if she were to go.

I who once thought I dead have found new life in her as the sun rises on these new days...

Bathes them in brilliant light.

Green shoots rising from blackened ashes.

The forest of my emotions.

We born of water, carbon and love as defined by man... By Allah.

My eyes turned heavenward as I implore of The I am...

What is to be?

The heavens remain silent and I speak to her for losing her would be the end...

I having lost so much...

She having lost so much...

The end result of so much pain.

Tears beading in the corners of mine eyes at the memories...

The brutal and awful reality.

My mind finding peace in thoughts of her...

My mind tormented by ghosts of the past where love has not always been the nicest companion.

Its two sides so parallel...

Yet here we are again attempting it once again...

Her tears falling permeate to the depths of my blackened soul where they are absorbed by the ashes as we grow.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY