AfroerotiK

Erotic provocateur, racially-influenced humanist, relentless champion for the oppressed, and facilitator for social change, Scottie Lowe is the brain child, creative genius and the blood, sweat, and tears behind AfroerotiK. Intended to be part academic, part educational, and part sensual, she, yes SHE gave birth to the website to provide people of African descent a place to escape the narrow-mined, stereotypical, limiting and oft-times degrading beliefs that abound about our sexuality. No, not all Black men are driven by lust by white flesh or to create babies and walk away. No, not all Black women are promiscuous welfare queens. And as hard as it may be to believe, no, not all gay Black men are feminine, down low, or HIV positive. Scottie is putting everything on the table to discuss, debate, and dismantle stereotypes in a healthy exchange of ideas. She hopes to provide a more holistic, informed, and enlightened discussion of Black sexuality and dreams of helping couples be more open, honest, and adventurous in their relationships.

Monday, November 28, 2005

Ebony Erotica

I remove my blindfold and look deep in your eyes. I have waited too long for this moment to be hidden in the shadows, to be denied my view of perfection. Surely this must be what heaven looks like. Placing your hand firmly in my own, I lead you to the center of the room. I want you to stand there for me to admire, nothing to support you, nothing to hold on to. Damn baby, why are you so fine? My job is to undress you so slowly, so methodically, that you think it’s a dance. Can you feel the rhythm of my touch?

At an arm’s distance away, I take the straps of my dress and slowly lower them. My eyes are glued to yours. I slide the material over my hips and step out of the dress, heels still in place. I stand before you brazen and bold, overcome with lust. My brown skin is glowing in the candlelight. I run my hands over my thighs, up the smooth, soft skin on the inside, right up to my flat stomach. The desire to finger myself is so overwhelming, but I don’t. Timing is everything. Your eyes are transfixed. I turn around and give you a view of every angle. “You like what you see?” I bend over in front of you. I spread my pussy lips, rub my fingertip over my clit for a second. I wonder if you can see from your vantage point how pink my flesh is, how my aroused clit is peeking out from under its hood. It always amazes me how slippery my pussy gets. I’m kinda getting the impression you like my little show.

At your threshold for teasing, you grab me by my wrist and forcefully turn me around. My arms reach out for your neck. You pull me to you close, take my breath away. We kiss. Pretense aside and passion indescribable. It’s a Love Jones, Mahogany, Jason’s Lyric kiss all rolled into one. I stand on my tiptoes to try to maneuver your dick between my legs. You have got my head swimming. This has got to be some sort of spell you have over me cause I’ll be damned if I can figure out how come I want you so much.

Copyright 2004
AfroerotiK

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