There are words that we toss around so much these days, that we’ve diluted the hell out of them. Like gangster, for example. Another one is legend. That’s some shit that you’d really have to earn, like when the ‘hood was ok calling Isaac Hayes “Black Moses.” You really had to be different to get a tag like that.
When it comes to Cherokee, the word definitely applies. There have been artists who’ve impacted me before. I remember being young as hell, and seeing Vanessa del Rio do an anal scene, and my world was thoroughly rocked. Yes, I’m that old. I can rattle off a list of artists who rocked me with their beauty, attributes, and prowess. This post is too long as it is, so maybe I’ll do a whole adult artist series. Let’s just say that I learned, years ago, that I have a love for sex that’s probably greater than most would find normal. I’m a soul brother so I’m attracted to soul sisters. With that being the case, the first time I saw a Cherokee scene, I fell in love like a billion other cats. Strangely enough, I can’t seem to recall the first one of hers. I can remember the first time I saw Vanessa Blue, Dominique Simone, and Jada Fire, but I can’t remember the first scene I saw Cherokee in. I will mention a couple of them.
There’s the scene when she’s on a ladder, painting a wall, in a yellow two piece bikini. She had me retarded, she was so damned fine. I couldn’t process how a woman could be so perfect! There’s one where she rocked this cotton candy pink fish net deal, and she backed up to a couch, and let a brother just feast on her. I mean pure ecstasy. There’s one that looks real up close and intimate, where she’s wearing a black outfit, and she lets a dude have her on a brown leather couch, and I think maybe even an ottoman. Anyway, she made some faces in that one that really looked like she was being pleased, and it definitely elevated the scene beyond the fact that you were watching porn. You see that’s the thing.
When I fantasize about Cherokee, I don’t think of it as I want to pound her big ass out. It’s more like maybe she’s my down the hall neighbor, who always speaks and waves, and smiles. Then maybe one Friday she tells me it’s her birthday weekend, and she’s got nothing planned. I tell her that I always get up early on Saturday and make a Starbucks run. I offer to bring her something, and the fantasy goes from there. In that way, I integrate the artist into my real life, because I actually am a bookworm who goes to coffee shops on my day off. I can never enter her world, so I lucid dream her into mine. Of course, I also have a coworker fantasy about her. Either scenario, she’s always a goddess in my vicinity that I know ain’t checkin’ for me, but a unique set of circumstances ends up causing her to let me make love to her. That’s how I fantasize about Cherokee. Of course, there is always a dark side.
Listen, I see this woman as a goddess. So there were a couple of occasions that made my ass sensitive as hell. Real porn addicts may recall a particularly hurtful moment in the genre. It was a series called “Ghetto Gaggers.” I didn’t understand. Years later, I still don’t understand. Why did those beautiful sisters allow that stuff to be done to them? It was so awful. I couldn’t figure if maybe they got tricked into some funny contract shit, or maybe they had been drugged, or what the fuck was that? I saw what they were doing to these absolute goddesses and I just—it’s just too much. I actually didn’t watch videos for a pretty good stretch after that. That wasn’t porn. That was some other shit.
But either way, she made her dough in the way she saw fit, and I wasn’t paying her bills, so…
These days, Cherokee is still out. She’s still famous. Got her own company, her website, and she still lets us look at her—and dream. I tried to blog about her, but never got around to it. However, I did pen a poem about her in September, 2023. I will leave the link to it below.
Just—Cherokee—we know this is your business. We know it’s your hustle, but understand this. You have impacted us. You have impacted the culture. You’re beautiful from your silky black hair, to your raven eyes, to your insane curvature. You are poetry in motion. You are a living masterpiece. I’m so damned jealous of any brother who had a chance to spend a weekend with you. My dreams about you seemed to have tapered off. I guess I’m aging out. I’ll always adore you though. Peace.
By Positive Mark Put it close to the camera, so it fills up the screen. Your expanse is breathtaking. Scientists are rendered silent by your
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