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.

Sunday, April 11, 2010

Round One




The ice cubes melted and left a trail of moisture down her skin. The heat emanating from her body and the cool sensation of the ice were devastatingly contrasted but she barely noticed the goose bumps on her skin. It was her lover that held her attention. His lips found her neck and gently brushed her perspiring nape. She threw her head back and invited him to kiss her more passionately, finding that spot that drove her to maniacal fits of ecstasy.

He would not be rushed. She was his canvas and he was intent on painting pleasure on every square inch of her. He was a master artisan, preparing his subject and studying her from every angle. He noticed the swell of her breasts as she breathed new life into him. The light and shadow created by the candlelight were his guidelines as he kissed her beautiful body. The tones of her skin, flush from her arousal, were a sensual palette of various shades. The texture of her hair and the roundness of her curves were a sculptures dream. Yes, she was his creation, an exploration of sensuality and lust.

He descended upon her, kissing her with a fervor that had no compare. Her lips parted and tasted the sweetness of his passion. Their tongues sensually danced and played with one another as her arms surround him, pulling him closer. He lay all of his weight on her, causing her to gasp for air. If not from the pressure, certainly from the intensity of their connection.

Her fever was rising ever higher. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him to her even closer. His hands roamed freely over her body, leaving marks occasionally where his passionate embrace was enthusiastic. They were moving in unison, a well-oiled machine of sensual delight.

She needed to take charge of this ship, show him who was in control. She made him stand, nothing for support. She grabbed his wrists and pulled them behind him. He could obviously overpower her so his compliance was symbolic of the fact that he wanted to relinquish power. She knelt before him and surveyed her prize. She began to kiss him softly, eliciting gentle moans of pleasure from him. She heard a sharp intake of breath as she enveloped him with her mouth. Softly, gently, she licked him. His knees began to buckle and he wanted to lean on something or pull her to him, but he couldn’t she was now the master artisan, painting indescribable pleasure with her mouth.

She licked every inch of steely resolve as his breathing got louder and louder. Her mouth enveloped him completely and he began moaning uncontrollably. She used her lips to pleasure and her tongue to torture, but only the kind of torture that ushers in the most decadent release. He shut his eyes tightly; afraid that he would explode and bring the sensations she was giving him to a crashing halt. He concentrated. Lights danced behind his eyelids and he felt the warmth of her mouth and the softness of her lips slide sensually up and down his erection. Harder, faster, deeper and wetter, she was on a mission and there was only one goal.

A sound formed in his throat, in his belly actually. It was the sound of animalistic lust. He was in a different time and space as he began moaning uncontrollably. He cradled the back of her head and tried to push her away. He wanted to wait, to last, and to return the favor. She was a woman not to be denied. She looked up at him with lust in her eyes and said, “cum for me.”

With that, she made one more decent with her mouth. This time, she swallowed him completely and he reached to point of no return. He felt his orgasm hit him hard as he released the evidence of his arousal.

They cradled together in silence. He stroking her hair gently, she snuggled in the place between his chest and neck. “I love you,” he whispered as she whispered back, “get ready for round two.”

3 comments:

Nicole said...

Wonderful! It's so good to have you back!

Anonymous said...

Great as usual! I have missed your stories!

blkorgasm said...

clawd have mercy! Where is round two? The ultimate tribute to one's lover is most definitely from the lips.