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In Episode 1 of The Turn On, we read "Drag," a story from Leone Ross' "Come Let Us Sing Anyway," then—in honor of our first episode—we spill about some very special first times.
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Kenrya: Come here. Get off.
Erica: Welcome to the first episode of The Turn On, hosted by me, Erica.
Kenrya: And me, Kenrya. So thanks for coming. This as Erica said is our very first episode and we are very excited to be here. So on every show of The Turn On, we'll read a piece of black erotica that's designed to turn you on and then we'll talk about it and give you way too much information about ourselves.
Erica: Way too much.
Kenrya: And then, the following week, we'll come back and we'll talk to someone who's connected to the piece that we read. So it could be the person who wrote it, the person who put together the anthology that it appeared in. But somebody who can teach us a bit of something new about getting it in.
Erica: So before we go to far, let's back up and talk about how we got here. First, we both love podcasts.
Kenrya: Love them.
Erica: We listen to them every single day and we've been wanting to do our own show for years. But you know how you throw out this idea and it never really goes anywhere. We've been saying that for awhile. We even had a meeting about it once. But I think we just got drunk and ended up watching a bunch of old black Christmas movies.
Kenrya: That's mostly what we do.
Erica: I know, but a couple of months ago, we decided to get really serious. Mostly because Kenrya decided she needed to tap the button.
Kenrya: Lord. Every time you say that, it's like such a Erica-ism.
Erica: Tap the button.
Kenrya: I feel like I never even heard anybody else put it that way before. I love it. It's pretty unique.
Erica: Tap tap titty tap.
Kenrya: Yes. So I was getting ready to masturbate, for those of you who have also never heard tap the button. It takes prep. You got to get all your shit together. If you want porn, you got to get that together. If you... I don't know, what else do people use-
Erica: Entering your keyword on your special site.
Kenrya: Yes. But so for me, a lot of times--
Erica: Lock the door from the kids.
Kenrya: Listen, bitch. Didn't my kid walk in on you tapping the button? She's never walked in on me. Because I lock my door, bitch.
Erica: It was definitely some Children of the Corn shit. And I felt movement in the bedroom, but I have a dog and so I kind of thought it was the dog moving around. And then all of a sudden, I had these eyes on me.
Kenrya: I'm sorry. Bitch, I been locking my door since she was three.
Erica: Yeah. And she definitely exploited the fact that I'm not used to that.
Kenrya: Can't do it, she's sneaky. But so, I was getting ready and one of the ways that I like to get myself together is to read a book. I like erotica. Shit that features black people. But, I really was thinking, you know, I'm kind of tired. Kind of just want to do this and go to sleep. It's a stress reliever, you know what I'm saying-
Erica: Get that good sleep.
Kenrya: Helps you relax your muscles, yes. So I want to do it in the dark, which means it's hard to read. I didn't want to go through all of that. And since we like podcasts, I was like it would be really dope if somebody could just read some nasty shit to me. And then I could use that to get there. So I went on the podcast app--
Erica: Podcast app.
Kenrya: Yeah, on iTunes, and I started searching for erotica. And there really wasn't anything there except for this white lady. And she kept saying, "Cock."
Kenrya: Yes. But it was--
Erica: His throbbing cock.
Erica: His member.
Kenrya: And nipples.
Erica: Strawberry red. I'm like, no.
Kenrya: Bitch, no. That's not what I want to see.
Erica: I like purple, not red.
Kenrya: Purple and bulging and like-
Kenrya: Sorry. I got carried away. So there was none of that. And I was like yo, this is something that should be out here in the world. And we some nasty bitches. We should do this shit.
Erica: So we did. So here we are. I love everything about sex. Learning about it, trying new things, talking about it to people and so I'm excited to use this podcast to do that and learn more.
Kenrya: And it's really dope because we get to do it together.
Erica: Yup yup, ding ding.
Erica: So Kenrya is my bottom bitch. We met in college about 16 years ago and we have been best fucking friends ever since.
Erica: So we are now going to push past all that bullshit that says we have to either be hos or somebody's mama because I frankly am both.
Kenrya: Both. It's like that gif that everybody puts on Twitter. Both.
Erica: So we're going to push past all that shit and we're going to do that by reading about some sexy shit, learning some sexy shit, and passing it on to you.
Kenrya: Yup. The Turn On is a show for black folks who want to get off and we want to open our minds while we do it. It'll show that we can love and we can fuck and it doesn't have to be political or scandalous or dirty unless we want it to be.
Erica: So for our first episode, we're going to go with a really good story called Drag. It's written by this British novelist, editor, and educator, Leone Ross.
Kenrya: And we picked it because it's sexy as fuck.
Kenrya: Yeah, it felt like a good place to start. We'll talk about it a bit later so we won't give you too much information but you never really quite know what's going to happen next. I think that's one of the things I like best about it.
Erica: Yes. So get whatever you need to get together to--
Kenrya: Do ya prep.
Erica: Light your candles, lock your door please.
Erica: Settle in.
Kenrya: Put your headphones on because this ain't safe for work or kids.
Erica: Yeah. But you should know. If you're here by now, you know that. Settle in, relax and let's start the show.
Kenrya: Let's get it.
Kenrya: Drag, by Leone Ross.
Kenrya: Today I feel like a drag queen. Walking down Soho way through the tourists and the catcalls. My crotch is aching under the good jeans and the bad underwear, watching the freaks go by, acres of eyeliner and jangly earrings and crap T-shirts that pass for fashion, walking and making sure my hips sway in calypso circles.
Kenrya: Today I feel like a drag queen. The top layer of me is a bouncing and behaving woman. I'm all rounded tits and a belly button so deep you could play strip poker inside it. But underneath that, I feel like a boy. 18 years old, slim hips, shoulders so strong I could carry the world, baby-soft face and mascara eyes. The boy in me lengthens my stride and gives me attitude. He looks out from under my eyelashes. I'm working it. I'm being seen. I'm shimmying.
"The only thing I want to drink more than a beer tonight is you."
I look up. He's not my type. His head would bang into doorways. We couldn't even dance. I'd be stuck just above his navel. I don't like liquorice-colored men. But today the boy inside me needs a fuck. From anybody. He's leaning against a porn shop. I can see those plastic ribbon thingies that they insist you pass through, like a time machine. No, like a seedy entrance to a boudoir. I think that his face is open, that it reminds me of a child's. He is even yummy, with a second glance. I look at him. Grin.
"Going inside?" I say.
"No," he laughs.
"Come inside with me," I say.
We wander around the interior. It's dark and silly and small waves of embarrassed men part before us. They try to pretend that none of us are there. I pick up the worst of the porn, speak loudly, point out cum shots and women dressed as little girls. I even find a puzzled, swollen donkey. We discuss measurements at the tops of our voices, pretending to be serious. Men begin to leave. The proprietor looks indignant. I turn more pages and I laugh in my boy's face and watch our arms, side by side, both bruise-colored. His lips thrust through graceful stubble.
"What's your name?" he says.
"Jo," I reply. He looks amused. As if he knows.
"Just Jo. Call me Jo," I say.
"I'm Jason," he says. I like the way he says his name. Like it fits him, like he's new. Like he's the only Jason in the world. The proprietor grimaces and rolls his eyes. We are nearly alone in the shop. The last man is trying not to look me in the face as he wiggles past us. He wants to fuck me, but he doesn't want me to see that. Jason moves to let him go by. I love that he does not try to protect me from the lust in the man. He stands next to me, trusting me in my own space, like I'm his equal. Like I'm strong.
Back at my flat he lays me across my bed, in between pages of my thesis. I am writing about Black people in British ads, like how there are none. He doesn't care. The head of his dick is swollen and purple red. He is watching me closely. I tighten the muscles in my stomach, flex my shoulders. I want my body to feel like concrete when he touches me. I run my hands along my thighs, pretending the hair there is pepper grains. I'm holding the bunch of roses he bought me in Leicester Square, tight. A thorn sticks through my flesh and I can feel a tiny bead of blood on my palm.
Jason crouches over me, pulls the roses away slowly. Then he is ripping them apart and scattering petals, stalks, thorns, across my breasts. "Tell me how you want me to be," he pants.
"Fuck me like I'm a boy," I say.
He puts a thumb up my cunt, parting the folds. It is a small sword through honey. I twist away, annoyed. "No," I say. My voice is shaking. I want him to understand so bad, but I don't want to talk. "Like you're fucking yourself."
He's lying on top of me, his cock rubbing against my tummy. It's wet there. He rubs himself across me, hipbone to hipbone. He's running a bass line through me. I can feel it everywhere. In my wrist, making my mouth reverberate. He licks the blood off my palm, thoughtfully.
"That's hardly safe," I say.
"So?" he says, and flips me over. My clit's rubbing against the white duvet and I can feel it growing, swelling, tumescent, hard against my belly. He's spitting on his fingers, rubbing them up and down my asshole. His breath is lost in my hair. He pauses against the entrance, like there's a stop sign. Like he needs permission just one more time.
"Go on," I say. I've never done this before and it needs to be now. "Go on."
He pushes gently. The head slips in. Agony. I twist, trying to accommodate.
"Oh fuck," he groans against my ear.
I feel like a girl about to be taken. I fight against the femininity. I don't want it, not today. I want the abandonment, the urgency of a boy, but it's no good. I'm afraid. Straining, anxious, I push myself onto my elbows. He's still being tentative. He's halfway in, but my body is groaning, rejecting it. He is sliding into a tube of sandpaper. My whole body is shaking and my head is shaking. I can't be a boy this way. A million pins dance the length of my ass.
I hear myself calling for time out. "Jason, let's stop."
He ignores me, thrusts a hand underneath us, begins to play with my clit, twisting, insistent, rubbing me in hard circles. I love the weight of him on top of me. I am pinned in a slow-moving dream.
"No," I say, but it's working. I can feel my ass melting, widening, moisture seeping out of chocolate walls.
"Your name is Jason." He whispers it against my hair. "You're up against the wall. It's Carnival and you're up against a brick wall, and I'm fucking you in the ass. Your cock is rubbing against the wall. You're so hard. We met five minutes ago and I rub the muscles in your arms."
He's all the way inside me, a metal bar against my ass cheeks, the heel of his hand grinding into my clit, and nothing hurts anymore. I can hear myself. I'm growling and I can hear the soca in the distance and when I look up I can see shocked grannies, amused revelers. I can see a policeman cocking his head to the side. Are they really doing that? He starts up the street and I can see him, ready to arrest two queer niggers.
"I rub the muscles in your arms and now I'm all the way up your ass. Your name is Jason."
I have no breasts. My chest is flat. I shift, undulate. I've become a smooth runway that pours from the base of my arched neck, down my shoulder blades, spreads across my hips, pushes my ass up into him. I'm an oil machine, gleaming with afternoon sweat. Jason takes a breath, pulls halfway out, plunges into me, savage, uncompromising. His hand is a blur. I howl. Delicious.
Afterwards, he knows how to be. I tell him my full, girl name.
Today I feel like an executive. My hair is scraped off my face and the makeup is effortless. Walking into a classy restaurant, the London sun streaming through the French windows, melting the clientele like individual ice cream cakes. I'm in a black suit underneath, the lingerie is apricot. My heels are sensible. Before I leave the office my boss tells me to use everything I've got. He winks. Everything. He thinks he's a feminist, but he is not above pimping me out.
Today I feel like an executive. Facts and figures flow from my fingertips. My voice is controlled and assertive. But underneath is so much more. An ambitious 25 year old who lies in the bath and dreams of power. Rubber duck in the bath tells me I should have a flat on the Riviera, a penthouse in New York. Bubbles promise me a walk-in closet of designer clothes, three personal assistants and gleaming, expensive technology. I am a multi-million dollar deal.
"Josephine." I love his voice. I look up. He's in a sharp suit, dark. Women's heads swivel, and I think, "Blonde bitches," and hold onto the glass of water tightly. He scoops condensation from the edge and rubs it between his fingers back and forth. I can't stop looking. I remember his hands on me and shiver in the heat.
"Long time no see," I say.
"So?" he says. Climbs right in next to me.
"You can't stay," I say. My thighs are humming. "I have a important client coming." He stays. He introduces himself as my colleague when the client arrives. The client orders tea and discusses cost-effectiveness and the implications of visual versus voiceover, whether we need a celebrity or normal actresses. Tells me there are other ad companies waiting in line. I nod and sound intelligent. Jason puts his hand up my skirt. My knees snap together instinctively. He is cupping me, like I'm a small, precious thing. I can smell myself across the sophisticated room. Pussy mixed with golden marigolds at the windowsill.
He uses one long, insistent finger. Rubs just above my clitoris. I try to edge him nearer the brink of me. Inside I'm an empty roll of wet muscles. I could play him like a flute, if only we were far from here. His finger is still stroking the hair, just the hair. I wonder if the teasing is on purpose, suck in my breath as he hits the mark, just to show off. Back to the top. Then down again. Light circles. I try to slow my breathing.
"You see, we think that speaking to women in their own language will knock the socks off the competition," says the client. A single crumb sits on his neat mustache. I want to lick it off. I want to grab his head and push it between my breasts and scream. I want them both to fuck me across the table.
"Perhaps animation," says the client.
"Mm-hmm (affirmative)," I say.
Jason's finger eases inside me, taking all the daylight in the room with it. I am sitting in a pool of summer. He puts a thumb back on my clit and it jumps like it's Christmas. I push my hips forward. They're doing circles. Tight, wide, urgent. Jason's skin is boiling.
"Could you, order some coffee?" I say to the client.
He turns and signals for the waitress. Jason pulls his hand out of me and licks his fingers. One, two, three. I hide a groan in my napkin. The client smiles at me, clueless. I smile back. Jason asks him a question. I can't hear him. I am literally deaf. The client leans forward. Jason leans toward him, his fingers back, twiddling me. I sip scalding coffee. Burn my tongue. Put my hand on top of Jason's hand. Press him into me. My eyes are begging.
"Harder," I say.
"Pardon?" says the client.
"It must be hard to deal with established competitors. It must get harder every day. Harder and harder."
"Ah," says the client.
I want to close my eyes. I can feel my orgasm tickling the base of my spine, but I'm talking and talking and the words are scrabble squares on a board, meaningless, but full of potential. I want to lean back in my chair. Tell them both that one day I will be able to buy them with a flick of my well-manicured fingers. Jason puts his hand on my inner thigh and pushes my legs as wide as they can go. Grasps my panties and pushes them roughly aside. I can hear a rip. He pushes something small and cold up me. I bite my lip and my hand on the table goes into involuntary spasm. He makes me touch myself with the other one. He bites his bottom lip as our entwined fingers touch two tiny balls. They feel as if they should be silver. We stir them around, coaxing juice out of me. My hand is frothy. They tinkle, I'm sure. The client is talking. Jason leans into my shoulder.
"Pussy music," he whispers.
My hips begin to buck. I'm beyond speech. All I can do is nod and the waves are getting more intense. My breasts are spilling out of my bra, they're so swollen. I'm breathing through my nose and yes, he's giving me what I want. He's rubbing my clit the way I like it, hard and God, so dirty, and the balls are revolving, tinkling, pulling it all out of me. I surrender, lean forward into the tablecloth.
"Are you all right?" the man chorus it above me. The client is calling, "Waitress, waitress, she's having a fit." Everybody around me is looking afraid and concerned. "Is she choking? Someone do the Heimlich on her ass," and Jason is all the way up in my face, one arm round my shoulder.
"Jo, you okay? Hush, baby, hush," but there's a fierce twinkle in his eye and his whole body is saying, "Be quick, Josephine, be cost-effective. Exert your power. Cum for me, before the place erupts. I'm going to have to take my hand away. Cum for me," and then I'm screaming. I can't believe that I'm letting my body jerk all over this posh restaurant, there's something so powerful about it all. I'm cumming in their faces and nobody knows. My nails are scraping the tablecloth and someone cries out as the coffee cup shatters on the floor and I'm trying not to laugh, my cute little ass still jerking. You know those slow wave, post-cum jerks that feel like aftershocks? And I've put my fingernails through the flesh between Jason's neck and his shoulder and I can tell it really hurts him, but he's trying not to laugh too. And even as the waitress rushes over, Jason coaxes another little one. Just a tiny baby orgasm out of me, because he's greedy like that, and then it's done and he's wiping his hand free of pussy juice. Wiping it all over his face and his pretty man cheekbones and I'm like fuck, fuck. I want to laugh. That's all I feel like doing, laughing.
So I do. Delicious.
Afterwards the client calls to make sure I'm all right.
We get the deal. Pussy power.
Today, I feel like a bride. Walking through the special room set aside for me in the back of the church. All Vera Wang class. If I could blush I'd be blushing in the mirror. There is one hour to go. My bridesmaids, all 10 of them, have floated away, leaving me time. I do not know where they came from. None of them are my friends.
My dress has cost 8000 pounds. Microscopic pearls are almost invisible at the hemline, the bodice. Diamonds snigger in my ear and make promises. The dress reminds me of Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe at sunset, a huge flow of everything white in the world, roaring snowflakes, pools of chalk dust, bleached frost.
Today, I feel like a bride. Fragrant. I am every love song ever played. I am pink. I am the Wedding March personified. I am God's best promise, an open sack waiting to be filled with matrimonially-blessed seed. I am hope. But underneath, I am a 39 year old woman who is slipping, gratefully, off the shelf. A wedding cake, blind drunk with rum. I am the solemn, desperate hopes of my mother. I have lost my way. I have no choice.
"You're beautiful." I look up. I don't know how he got in. Gray hair fondles his temples.
"Thank you," I say.
"So," Jason says. He sits down at my feet, cross-legged. I can barely see him over the lace.
"What?" I say. "What do you want?"
He shakes his head. Gets up without using his hands, so graceful. Then he's back, with a sky blue bowl. I can smell the lotion, my grandmother's kitchen.
"What is it?" I say.
"I made it," he says.
He takes one perfect shoe off my foot. His hands are warm in the autumn breeze dancing through the church cracks. His palms are tender, and my body is already sweeter than it was before, like someone dropped sugarcane into my heart, pumped it 1000 miles a minute through my bloodstream. He draws patterns on my soles, my ankles, my thighs, pushing up through miles of dress. I sit down, legs akimbo, my back against the wall. I am whimpering as he runs his soft tongue through the hair down there, plaiting me, dipping his mouth into me, drinking me. His moistened hands have slipped under the dress's bodice and my breasts feel young again. Perky, coffee-colored beginnings. My nipples are tiny silver balls.
He is rubbing his magic lotion into my crotch, pouring it across my thighs. It's slick and drips off my soft belly, puddling and sinks into 8000 pounds worth of promises. He parts the lips of my pussy, as if in prayer. I watch him rubbing warm lotion over his cock, one hand on my hip. Then there are careful inches, pushing inside me.
I groan. Oh, I groan.
We've never made love before. I wonder why as I gather him into me. I wonder why, because this is a symphony of scent and breath, high notes of lemon and the pure sob of cinnamon and the darkness of cloves. I wonder why as I say his name, over and over, like I'm hushing a baby. It is almost too good.
He watches me writhe as he fucks me. His hand dives between our bodies. I listen to the old, familiar sound of him rubbing me. His eyes are kind as I gasp and drum my fists against his back.
"So this is what you feel like," he says. He's trying to be cool, but his voice is too shaky. I smile, my eyes closed.
"Does it feel good?" I want him to feel good.
"Oh yes," he says, and pushes his hands forward once more. His penis is kissing me, tiny wet kisses along the length of me, so certain. He looks into my face. One finger, delicate, gathers the tear on my cheek.
"Who am I?" I say.
Jason pushes into me and reminds me who I am. He tears off one pearl and fucks me juicy. He tears another and fucks me deep. I join him, fingernails sliding through cloth and lace. The dress disintegrates, baring me dark and sticky against the church floor. I'm throwing pearls across the room. We sound like animals being loved, coughing primal sounds over our lips and down our thrashing bodies. My hands are digging into his ass, pushing him further in. I have a finger inside him where it's hot and secret, guiding him, showing him how to move, how to please me. He is whining, but through it all, "Who are you, who are you, who are you?" He's saying.
And I'm a drag queen, 18 years old, trying a little something-something with the new beat of my clit. I'm a 25 year old executive, even though I never made a million. I'm years of expectations. I'm a cop-out, thinking I needed to be Cinderella because God knows my mother needs grandchildren. I'm a fuck. I'm a friend. Yeah I remember who they are. I'm enough. I'm enough. I'm just right.
Birds whistle at the window as we swirl into orgasm. Afterward, I leave him in a pile, run down the aisle, cupping what's left of Vera Wang to my tits, the wedding party's mouth all O's of shock, but I can see delight in the ones who are glad. Out into the shuddering light of the autumn afternoon. I hail a cab. Kick my bare feet up on the glass between me and the cab man.
"Drive," I say.
Erica: So first impressions of the story, I absolutely loved it. First time I read it, I'll be really honest. I don't need a story. This endeavor is new for me because I am not a erotic literature kind of gal. I am a whatever freclip you got on Pornhub or somebody else, that's all I need. So this was definitely different and I feel like this was a good entry story for us. Because it gave a good story, but it also-
Kenrya: That shit was hot.
Erica: Yeah, it was just really fucking hot. It was great stories, great scenarios. I loved it. However, it took me a minute to get exactly what was going on and by a minute, I mean I had to hear from Kenrya exactly what was happening in the story. Which made me love it even more.
Kenrya: As you know we just heard, it's role play, really when it comes down to it. I think very often when we think about role play, we think about the costumes you got tucked up in the closet. I have some of those costumes.
Erica: Girl. Costumes.
Kenrya: I don't really use mine, though. Not anymore. I think there's a bit of a lot going on so I can see how it could be a little bit difficult to track because she's like, "Today, I feel like this." And it's like okay bitch, but you was just something else yesterday.
Erica: Yeah, I'm like so is this dude just dropping in and out of her life every now and then?
Kenrya: That's what I think it was.
Erica: Does he just show up because, girl.
Kenrya: I think he just appears like Candyman.
Erica: The Ghost of Dicks Past. The Ghost of Pussy Past. So I have this term. I call it Ghost of Pussy Past. And essentially it's just old dick. Niggas you used to fuck with that just happen to pop back up in and out of your life like Casper. You know what? I just saw Us. These niggas tethered to the pussy. You know what, let me not say that.
Kenrya: Because that's scary.
Erica: That sounds like--
Kenrya: Like they going to murder the pussy with scissors.
Erica: That sounds Soul Ties and we don't need Crystal Pussy Twitter coming after us.
Kenrya: Fucking Crystal Pussy Twitter.
Erica: Okay, but yeah. It was just like I would fucking scream if I'm at work trying to meet with a client or do something work-like and the Ghost of Pussy Past pop up-
Kenrya: And put his hand in your pussy.
Erica: And let's be honest, there's a few ghosts if they popped up and put they hand in my pussy, I'd be like, "Well, hello. Let's see where this goes."
Kenrya: Not in the middle of a client meeting. That ain't for you?
Erica: Bitch, no. Because I am... you think I am expressive on this mic? Wait until I'm rocking another mic. There's no way in hell I would be able to do that, but nonetheless.
Kenrya: Hell no.
Erica: I really liked how she went through various levels in various periods in her life. But it took me a minute to understand exactly what was going on.
Kenrya: Yeah, so to me, it's like she's trying on different roles. It's essentially role play. I think so often when we think of role play, especially as it relates to sex, we think of costumes and shit. Which, I mean I had my costume period. I had my... okay, what do I have? I still have some, but I honestly don't use them anymore. It was a very short-lived period. I was trying to spice up some shit that I should have just let go.
Erica: And you know what, we find ourselves doing that, trying to spice up and add-
Kenrya: When you just need to tell that nigga to go.
Erica: Put some stank on some things that don't need no stank.
Kenrya: Right. So yeah. But I still have them. It's probably been a smooth 10 years since I put on a costume. And part of it is because I'm not in no shit that I got to spice up. My shit is extra hot all the time.
Erica: Yeah. And that's not to say that if you don't... if role play is your thing--
Kenrya: That that's the only way, exactly, exactly.
Erica: I feel like so often as women, we find ourselves in a relationship that's not working and we turn to, "What can I-" and I think it's important to do some self-reflection--
Kenrya: Keep it new.
Erica: But I think, we so often we turn to, "What's the latest trick I can do to show him, to prove to him, to wow him." And it's like, girl, if this ain't natural, then don't, don't try.
Kenrya: Right because a lot of times that looks like forcing it, right? It's a nigga that you probably shouldn't be with to begin with.
Kenrya: And if you can't have an actual conversation with him about what y'all need to do to make things great for both of y'all, like if you ain't cumming, or he not keeping it hard, maybe there's something else y'all need to talk about.
Erica: And that fucking fluffy unicorn costume ain't going to help. That's not it.
Kenrya: Bitch, you got a fluffy unicorn costume?
Erica: No, I do not have a fluffy unicorn costume. You know, I don't think I did too many of the costumes. I am comfortable with my body. I have no problem walking around naked. I have no problem being sexual. Something about costumes turn me into a fucking dork. I am like, "Meep, moop, meep, moop. I am a robot. I'm a baby dinosaur." I become a complete and utter dork when costumes are introduced.
Erica: So when I do the role playing, it's more like in the first scene, where we were... I talk a whole lot of shit during sex. So our role playing comes in when I'm just talking shit, as opposed to actual costumes. But what are your costumes?
Kenrya: I have a maid's costume.
Erica: Which is not fucking fun.
Kenrya: Aint nothing fun about that. But when I bought it, I was I don't know, 25, 26, living in an apartment by myself. I guess I thought that was sexy, but ain't shit sexy about cleaning up.
Erica: Ain't shit sexy about cleaning up because-
Kenrya: That's like my whole life now.
Erica: Exactly. When I think about cleaning up, I'm thinking of how quickly can I do it before I get to bed.
Kenrya: Yeah and ain't no special outfit for that shit.
Erica: Fuck no, I ain't getting bleach on these good pants.
Kenrya: But I do... When I got that costume, I also got a feather duster, and that shit-
Erica: The feather duster is good-
Kenrya: Because when you from behind, run that shit down your spine.
Kenrya: Wait, so this bitch think she can do ASMR.
Kenrya: She sends me random videos of herself eating fucking pickles and drumming her goddamn nails on-
Erica: I'll never post it on IG.
Kenrya: But she send them to me.
Erica: Because you special, bitch.
Kenrya: I'm special.
Erica: The feather duster comes in handy.
Kenrya: Yes. That's good. And then I have a police person costume. And here's the thing. Police are fine. That shit ain't sexy.
Erica: Not at all.
Kenrya: And the reality is most of the time when I think about police, I'm worried about my life and the people who I love.
Kenrya: And that don't really make me wet.
Erica: Even, now that you mention it, remember the Lil Wayne song Mrs. Officer?
Kenrya: Wait, that was two of our friends.
Erica: It was they song. They played it at their wedding.
Erica: You know who you are.
Erica: Shout out to y'all.
Kenrya: And I still think of them every time I hear that-
Erica: Which is... However.
Kenrya: It's an abuse of power.
Erica: And it's just like there are so many more things we can do other than playing cops and robbers. That's not cute.
Kenrya: It's not, so yeah. So I don't use my costumes anymore. Well, but pieces of the costume, because I love a good restraint.
Erica: If you got some good handcuffs, yes bitch. However-
Kenrya: I need to get some better ones.
Erica: I found that when introducing handcuffs with black men is difficult because you pull out the handcuffs and they like, "No bitch, we ain't doing this." And I'm like, "Wait, no, not you, me. Tie me up." And then after more conversation, it becomes a thing.
Kenrya: So I too, enjoy a good handcuff.
Erica: I too, enjoy a good cuffing.
Kenrya: But I've never... I don't think they've ever assumed I was going to put them shits on them.
Erica: You know what-
Kenrya: They just put them shits on me and keep it moving.
Erica: Well, you know, this is also, "Meep, moop, meep, moop," Erica. It's like, what the fuck this robot dinosaur about to do.
Erica: Cuffs, I've found they're much better when you do restraints as opposed to cuffs. Because handcuffs are for play play. When you really into doing some restraint shit, get you a good restraint, the leather kind.
Kenrya: So wait, are they attached or can you... because my thing is I want to put them where you can spread across the bed.
Erica: So the pair that I have, they have the clips so you can attach-
Kenrya: You can attach them.
Erica: But also, they have a hook. So that you can run them through ropes and stuff.
Kenrya: I need to get those, okay.
Erica: Actually I have a friend... So I got a someone that I once dated-
Kenrya: Did you date him or did you just fuck him?
Erica: Well, we was just fucking.
Erica: So you go into his house and he has a nice bed and it's really nice. And once you start looking, you be like, "Are those O-rings bolted to each corner of your bed?"
Kenrya: Oh, he's prepared.
Erica: Oh he was so prepared. This nigga fucking bolted O-rings to each corner of his bed and it's kind of in some you don't really see what's going on-
Kenrya: Until you really look close.
Erica: ... until you tied up and like, "Oh shit. That's how this nigga did it."
Kenrya: He's committed.
Erica: Really committed. And guess what?
Erica: I'm about to be that committed. Because my next bedroom set, I've definitely been looking at like, "So how can we-"
Kenrya: Tie some shit onto it.
Erica: ... "whore this up?" Take it and just sprinkle a little ho on it.
Kenrya: It's important.
Erica: It's important to just-
Kenrya: Sprinkle a little ho on some shit.
Erica: It's like Frank's Hot Sauce. We put that shit on everything. Put a little on everything.
Kenrya: Yes. With the story, in my mind, she is stepping into different roles. She is trying on different versions of herself to try to figure out which one fits. So in the first one, which I don't agree with, but she associates femininity with a lack of power. She said she doesn't want to feel feminine. She doesn't want to be a girl, because she doesn't want to be taken. You and I kind of have that opposite situation going on. Where ain't nobody taking shit.
Erica: I give you.
Kenrya: But she's also 18 in that scene. So very often, we got to grow... shit, I had to grow into that. So it makes sense as an 18 year old. I had a little bit of a problem. It was interesting. Before he started trying to fuck her in the ass, he did pause and he was asking for-
Erica: For consent.
Kenrya: ... for consent again.
Erica: Which was great.
Kenrya: That was really good to see that. But then, once he started and she couldn't take it and she said, "Hey we should just stop," and he didn't and he kept pushing. Yes, okay she said she wanted it and it started to feel good. As somebody who has had a dick in her ass, nigga when I say stop, you stop.
Erica: Yeah, I hear you. And see this is where it gets really dicey. Because I actually very recently had a situation kind of similar to that. I was with a very determined individual who... see, it's hard, because it worked out.
Kenrya: I mean it worked out here, too, but it made me cringe a little.
Erica: We were doing it and there's no way to judge it or feel it out. And this is where the whole sexual assault thing becomes so... I don't want to call it the thing like it's something-
Kenrya: New or trendy.
Erica: ... some fucking game or some shit. But this is where it gets very difficult. Because sometimes it's hard to tell when a, "No," is. Because I fuck around all the time. But you know what, it worked because I did not use our safe word.
Kenrya: Oh, well okay. Well then you had a system set up, though.
Erica: I definitely have a system set up. But it was like one of them, "Ooh, I don't know. This ain't going to work."
Kenrya: And then it worked.
Erica: He was like, "Keep trying bitch. Keep bearing down." And it worked and sweet Jesus did the gates of the Lord open like my butt.
Kenrya: But see, having a safe word was part of your consent process and she was with a fucking stranger.
Erica: Very true, very true.
Kenrya: So I mean that part was a little tough for me. But she felt fine. We believe women and she said that she was cool, so it was fine.
Erica: And you know what was great? I like how it was very distinct periods in her life, because I feel like we've all been... I feel like at 18 was really when I started... no. So when I got into college was really when I started trying to kind of explore my sexuality. I mean you know I had sex in high school, but it was more-
Kenrya: In the back of somebody's car?
Kenrya: Just the tip.
Erica: I fucking lost my virginity on a waterbed.
Kenrya: Okay so wait, y'all. So Erica is my best friend. We've known each other since our junior year of college. I ain't never heard this story before. I think it's only appropriate that you tell it today.
Erica: Because we're talking about first times?
Erica: So I was in band. I was a little ashy little girl in band.
Kenrya: Wait, what did you play?
Erica: The flute. I was a flautist.
Kenrya: I knew this. We had to let the people know.
Erica: I played the flute. And I was actually so bad that my mama thought I was first chair, but the first chair was on the other side.
Kenrya: So you were last chair.
Erica: I was just like a bitch.
Kenrya: I mean you got to go to games.
Erica: Just... I was touching things.
Kenrya: Were you in marching band?
Erica: This was marching band. So there was this guy and he was in the marching band. I don't even fucking remember that nigga's name. But anyway.
Erica: So it's maybe spring... no, it was summer. Because you're preparing for the season or whatever. So we're all at somebody's house and we flirting and stuff. My dumb ass, nigga smiled too hard. No. I will not judge myself.
Kenrya: That's right.
Erica: Kenrya shot me a look. So I was just... I wasn't ready. You know you in a place where a little rock-biting nigga smile at you. And you're like, "Oh, I like how that tooth hang out his mouth when he eat." I shouldn't have done it. But anyway.
Kenrya: It's part of your experience.
Erica: So he's smiling. The light was hitting that tooth.
Kenrya: It's like gleaming, ding!
Erica: So we go in the back to his homeboy's room. Was it his homeboy's or his homeboy's mom? I don't know. But we was like in the back and we get on the fucking waterbed. Okay first-
Kenrya: What year was this?
Erica: Fucking like-
Kenrya: '97, '98?
Erica: '97, '98. So like '97. You know he had a waterbed so it couldn't have been the mama because if you are an adult-
Kenrya: A waterbed is not cool.
Erica: So anyway. We go in the back and there's this fucking waterbed. So we start fooling around. It is a fucking waterbed. With sex, the most important thing about sex is leverage.
Erica: That's why niggas take off they socks, they put them little hospital joints on so you get the grip-
Kenrya: Need some traction.
Erica: You need some traction. Do you not need to be floating around-
Kenrya: Plus he was probably very new, too.
Erica: And don't nobody know what you doing, so it was the fucking worst, most awkward shit. And then what makes it even worse.
Erica: A nigga walks in.
Kenrya: I'm sorry.
Erica: We was in there like... Because look, I've been walked in on-
Kenrya: Were y'all even like naked or anything?
Erica: I've been walked in on multiple times, and I am like, "Look, you caught a bit of this. Bitch, take notes."
Erica: This time, it was like he walked in and was like, "Hey." And I was like... I don't even remember if I was naked.
Kenrya: I feel like when you're young like that-
Erica: I probably wasn't. He just open, spaces.
Kenrya: Yeah. With somebody people room and shit.
Erica: It was the fucking worst. Primarily because one, we didn't know what we was doing and two, we didn't have fucking leverage. You need traction. You need to be pushing off of things and we were two little ashy ass kids floating in a sea of cheap ass 12 count, 1-ply ass polyester sheets. It was just disgusting. And this is also when I tell little girls about having sex, I'm like, "Girl wait because-"
Kenrya: You deserve so much more.
Erica: You deserve a better story other than fucking rock-biter on a fucking waterbed in somebody house. Like, girl.
Kenrya: Since everybody want to podcast these days, they could at least be thinking about how they might have to tell that story one day.
Erica: Exactly. So I've had a chance to lose my virginity a few more times after that and it was delightful.
Kenrya: Delightful. So yeah. I like that she is different people at different times. And you can see her growth. But also that she called herself out in that last one, right? She felt like a bride, but she only felt like a bride because her mama was forcing her. And I love that-
Erica: That is some transformational dick. That dick was like... It knocked some sense in her.
Kenrya: I don't want to give him that much credit.
Erica: And I was just about to say, "Men don't think that you got transformational." Your dick ain't that magical. What happens is you just-
Kenrya: She remembered herself.
Erica: ... knock a little piece of her into place.
Kenrya: That's right.
Erica: It was more her. Your dick was helpful, but you know.
Kenrya: It was an assist.
Erica: Yeah, it was an assist.
Kenrya: But she figured that shit out.
Erica: I would have used a sports metaphor, but I know nothing about it.
That's a sports assist, like in basketball.
Where they like throw something and catch and be like ‘boop’.
I'm going to go ahead and say no.
Okay, excuse me. Whatever.
I love that she got there. Not only did she bounce. We never found out what the nigga’s name was she was supposed to marry because nigga don't matter. And I think if this had been... I mean, this would never be a romantic comedy, but if it had been a movie, she would have walked out hand-in-hand with this nigga or hit the altar and they would have gotten married or some bullshit-
But she said, "I left him in a pile on the floor." And I was like, "Yes bitch." It was all I could do not to yell that as I was reading it. And it's not because I don't like men. I love men. But that it wasn't about him.
It was about her. And how she found herself.
He wasn't saving her. She was saving herself.
Erica: So I actually really loved this. Thank you for the pick, Kenrya, because this was a good starter. Thank you for getting us wet.
Kenrya: Ooh, I like it. So I think that since this is our first episode and we just talked a little bit about your first time having sex-
Erica: On a fucking waterbed.
... on a waterbed, we'll save my first time story for another time. But, this was also Josephine's first time doing something.
What what... no talk. I'm going to give you the background.
Okay cool. It was her first time having anal sex. Yes, what what in the butt. So wait, she sings this shit all the time. First of all, she don't even know where it came from.
Yeah, I don't. I just sing it because it just makes... Isn't it a great little ditty?
It was a viral video though. Yes, just like that.
What what in the butt.
We make songs for everything.
We do, a lot. But she also sings it at fucking inappropriate times. I had to have a colonoscopy.
Well there are lots of times when things are going in your butt. It's not that it's inappropriate times, it's the appropriate time.
Bitch, I was recovering-
It's not like I'm singing it at like bar mitzvahs.
I was still under anesthesia, still coming out-
And that's when everyone's the most fun.
... still foggy.
You should appreciate a good song.
And this bitch called me singing What What in the Butt.
And I sang it at mine.
You did. At least it was equal opportunity.
We sing it when we discuss things in the butt. Because what what, in the butt.
That's what's up.
Tell me about your first time.
Okay. Unfortunately, my first time with anal was not fantastic. So I was in a situation that I was trying to force to work, just like Josephine with her wedding situation. But I waited way too long to walk away from that. But in the course of it, this nigger kept trying to get me to do anal. And I just wasn't really comfortable because reality was I didn't even like him that much by that time.
Here's my thing. As someone that does do anal I don't... I mean, I like it.
Yeah, I do too.
But I also really hate it when guys-
Pressure you for that shit.
... use pressure like, "Ooh, I want to try it. I want to try it. I want to try it." Like bro.
Chill. It's my body. We'll do it at some point-
I will give you the privilege-
... but why does it have to be some big huge thing?
I don't know.
But so he kept pressuring me for it and finally one day, talk about spicing shit up. I was like, "All right, we can try." And so, you know, the lube, the whatever. But for me, I have to be... Like yeah, I can have one-night stands. I have plenty. I still have to want it. It doesn't have to be an emotional connection so much. I got to really want to fucking do it and I didn't want to do it.
So he attempted. It was a big dick. Which makes things more difficult.
Note of the day, if you got a big dick, don't be asking for too much anal. Because it takes a pro. You got a nice smedium dick? Even a small dick. I appreciate a small dick.
In the butt.
If you know what you're doing.
Yeah, yeah. No problem. So I didn't really want to do it. So he tried and it hurt. And I was like, "Fuck. No. Stop." And so that was it. That's the extent of my first anal experience.
Girl when they be trying and it don't work... I did not understand the expression, "Seeing stars," until I had a nigga, 'accidentally,' and I mean this in air quotes, ram it up my butt. Not even ram it up my butt. Try to get it up my butt. Bitch, I literally-
Ain't no accidental about that shit.
... was like fucking Bugs Bunny. On my stomach, with stars-
Circling around your head?
Stars and birds circling around my head. That shit is not fun.
No, it's not.
So my first time doing it... I like trying new things. I consider myself a try-sexual. I will try anything once, except for scat play. You are not shitting on me, I am not shitting on you. Other than that, bitch we can try.
They got all these weird ass... No, we are, but interesting names for that shit. So we-
As my granny said, "Wait-"
No, but there's like a Cleveland Steamer or some.
Yeah, that's when you... nevermind.
No, tell us what it is.
So I think a Cleveland Steamer is when you shit on they chest or something like that.
But I'm like why y'all got to bring my city into this shit? And then I heard about-
Well it is Cleveland.
Fuck you bitch.
Why wouldn't they? I mean y'all make a lot of chili, right?
No, bitch we don't eat chili.
Oh that's Cincinnati, my bad.
Yes. You done mixed up the Cs in Ohio.
Same difference, but okay.
Not the same, whatever. It's like 5.5 hours away. Whatever. That's not for me. But one thing that we always say on this show is that we never yuck anyone's yum.
Yuck anyone's yum. So if you like it, that's good.
I mean, we want to hear about it, honestly.
Yeah, if that's what you do... Side note. Y'all will get lots of my granny stories. So my granny told me about... first we were talking about Donald Trump. And she told me how she's convinced that-
Did you really just say his name?
I'm sorry. 45. She told me that she's convinced that 45 has piss tapes. Why? Because she said she talked to a real-life ho. And that real-life ho told her that these men take them out and they give them all this food. They give them this rich, good food and feed them and get them good and drunk and take them back to hotels and pay the hos to piss on them and shit on them.
My granny told me this. So first, it's Granny. Two, it was a real live whore.
So we trust whores.
So this story is just gold-certified. That is exactly what happens. FYI.
You don't even go ask the homey in Google. Now you know.
Now you know. Granny and a real live whore. She was like, "She went to whore school. Certified, stamped whore." So my story about anal.
Okay so first time I tried it I was on vacation. I mean I'd been wanting to do it for a while. So first time on vacation with this guy and I was on my period. I think I was a little yeasty. This nigga didn't-
You needed another hole.
He flew me out and my mouth was tired and shit. And so I was like, well-
Might as well.
... might as well.
Get the lube.
Jaws getting tired. Might as well try a little something something. And it was... I'm not super experienced, but every time I've tried it thus far, you just got to have willpower.
The right kind of lube. Silicone-based.
Silicone-based lube. You need something thick.
Do not water in it. Spit ain't it.
Ooh, because he just used spit in the story and that's like nigga that's not enough.
I was like this is definitely poetic license. So we will do a whole... I feel like we need to talk about... I research everything. So we need to talk about different lubes and what's better for what and that kind of thing. But for anal, you need something thick. You need something silicone-based. And also, when you're doing it up the butt, you done committed. This is like us with this podcast. We done committed to go on the record as lifelong hos.
When you do anal, you just got to commit. Unless we taking showers and wiping shit off... I mean you need to wipe shit off. You need to commit to we just doing anal tonight. Don't be thinking you going to swap it in and out of places. Because that makes a very angry-
I swap, but we go, well no, you got to go-
... very angry coo pappy.
You got to go wash the whole situation before you reenter.
So you got to plan for a break.
Or start vaginally then go anal.
Anyway. So we had been on vacation and mouth got tired. I was like, let me give this nigga something else to you know. He flew a bitch out.
He flewed you out?
I got flewed out. Tosses hair. So we are at it and the first couple... It hurt like hell. So when you doing it, you got to push down like you trying to poop out. You got to be very comfortable with your body and where you are. Don't try to do it after y'all went to the Melting Pot.
Yeah, you don't want to be gassy and shit. That's not.
No big fondue dates before you do this.
Yeah, you push out like you're trying to poop, it opens the hole so they can get in.
And then it just kind of... like in the story. Just something, bam, something happens.
I think the head has to get all the way in first. I feel like once that's in, it's a little easier to get the rest in. It's like a ring of fire.
I feel like someone that's really experienced with this is listening to it, laughing at us.
Bitch, I just open it up and we go. Yeah, but it takes time.
But it's a very rewarding experience.
It is. So I'll say for me, although my first experience was shitty, the second time-
No pun intended.
Ah, you smart bitch. The second time I wanted it. I was with someone who I actually really liked. And it was a medium dick. But in the best way.
So you were telling me about a little vibrator or something?
Two things. One, it helped because he really knew what he was doing. So his first thing was he needed to have me cum first vaginally. So first we fucked and I came-
Everything loose and gushy.
Exactly. So we did that. And then, I have this vibrator that's like a little egg but it's on a stick almost. So it's a G-spot stimulator. So we put that in and pushed it up against the front wall. So now, you getting vibration and all the stuff going from the inside and then he came in from the outside. Yes, there was a little ring of fire situation, but because it wasn't huge, once we got past that, shit was amazing.
So I have a little butt plug. It's a little vibrating butt plug-
Oh yeah, I got one of those too.
... It's not huge. But that has been helpful in kind of... You need to be... Like I said, I research everything. I have steps for everything. Sex, especially anal play, is not... Get the steps in mind, get it down. But it really needs to be an organic process. Just feel things out. It's helpful when everything is just loose. So sometime, its very helpful. I mean like yes. If you're anything like me, do your research, read, all that. But once you got it in your head, just kind of let it go.
So the third person that I have had anal with was... That's a big dick. And it took us three tries... maybe four tries. By the last time, we kind of had a system. So we used an anal plug first. Once we got that all the way in there, things are kind of opened up. And then he was able to come in... We took it out. And he was able-
It's like when you're feeding a baby. Take the pacifier out, shove the titty in their mouth.
That's literally what we had to do. So we were able to get 75% of the dick in, and we was at 50% the time before that. So that primed the situation and got everything a little more open and then once we got in, it was good.
So we really had to kind of do it in stages.
You're like, "Well, tonight is 75% night."
Literally, we worked... because it's something that I like and it's something that he likes and because we had great communication, we were able to figure out our little plan.
Communication is so key.
Our little sexy plan.
I say this all the time. Especially to guys I'm fucking. I'm like, "Look, if you are able to put your face in my pussy, the least you can do is be able to talk to me about your wants and needs. Now this is Erica you're talking to, so I may not give a fuck about your wants, but-"
But at least you're able to say it.
Yeah. It's important. It's so important to just communicate with the person you're having sex with. People be like, "I don't want to say that to him."
Well you don’t want to fuck that nigga.
But didnt you just have your face on his dick? Like make that work!
But that was my first time with anal. And this is our first episode of The Turn On podcast.
I'm doing a youthful dance.
The one where they throw the hand in the air, but it doesn't look right.
That's not a real, yeah.
You don't even know.
I don't, to be honest.
So it could be.
Anyway. Welcome, thank you for joining us.
Thank you for joining us.
This has been the first episode of The Turn On with your lovely host Erica.
And Kenrya, that's my name.
That is also my name.
So welcome, thank you for joining us and we will see you again soon.
Until next time, we are two hos, making it clap.
Making it clap.
This is ridiculous.
This episode was produced by your lovely hosts, Erica and Kenrya and edited by B'lystic. The theme song is from Brazy. Now listen. Every five star review posted on Apple Podcasts between now and July 31st 2019 will be entered into a raffle to win a copy of one of the five books we read on the show. We are giving away five books. Just post your review and email a screenshot to firstname.lastname@example.org to enter. And please, subscribe to the show on your favorite podcast app, follow us on Twitter @theturnonpod, and Instagram @theturnonpodcast and find links to books, transcripts, guest info, and other fun stuff at theturnonpodcast.com.
The Turn On
The Turn On is a podcast for Black people who want to get off. To open their mines. To learn. To be part of a community. To show that we love and fuck too, and it doesn't have to be political or scandalous or dirty. Unless we want it to be.