. . . . To Be Fucked

It’s that time of year again. Every Spring, it never fails, my sexuality is awakened like the return of the birds and the bees and the flowers on the trees. My nipples seem to stay hard constantly and my pussy throbs at the slightest provocation. I fantasize about sex, about the sights, smells, and sensations of sex at its most raw, passionate state. I think about it, dream about it, I am reminded of past erotic exploits constantly, throughout the warm, sunny days and steamier, hot nights. I CRAVE a man in my life with whom I can express myself, my uninhibited, unashamed, primitive, primal, sexual self.

I need a lover I can let down my guard with, express myself without fear or shame, someone who cares about me outside the bedroom and who desires me completely inside it. I want hours and hours of hot, sweaty fucking that wakes the neighbors and leaves me drained of my every bodily fluid. I want to make a huge wet spot on the sheets and then fuck those same sheets off the bed.

I want him. I want MY lover. I don’t want to share him; I don’t want to question his fidelity. I want to suck his dick like no other woman has ever done, no, I want him to fuck my mouth like he fucks my pussy. I want to lick every inch; I want to swallow him whole, spit running down his balls. I want him to play with my nipples while I’m giving blowing his mind and tell me that he loves the way I give him head. I want to lick his nuts and feel them rolling around on my tongue. God, I want to spread those beautiful, brown asscheeks and look at his asshole as my mouth waters. I need to let my tongue flutter softly, gently over his sensitive skin, making him jump and moan. I want to put him on his knees with his ass in the air so I can take my tongue and drive it deep up inside him, licking, kissing, and sucking his hole while he begs me not to stop, while he tells me how good I make him feel.

Just when he’s going out of his mind, when he thinks he can’t take any more pleasure, I would roll him over and make a feast of his dick meat again. This time, I would lick my finger and work it up his asshole, hit his spot, make him squirm and yell into the pillow as I swallow, lick, and suck him all over again, stopping just when he’s about to blow. It’s not that I don’t want to taste that hot cum; I want him to save it for me. I want him to pump his sperm deep inside me, to be driven to unload his ball juice deep in my pussy because he craves me so much.

It’s the intimacy I miss so much, the connection with your lover where you can share all your secrets, be totally uninhibited. There is something comforting about laying back and feeling your lover please you from head to toe and not feeling like you are being selfish, not feeling like he is holding a score card over your head that you have to reciprocate in kind. There is no greater pleasure than feeling my lover pleasure my nipples, licking them softly, sending delightful sensations directly to my clit. Feeling his tongue gently flick those hardened brown peaks, cupping my full breasts to his mouth, back and forth, it’s indescribable. Kissing his way down my body, I can spread my long legs for him, giving him access to my treasure. I can feel his masculine fingers part my moistened pussy lips; expose my hardened clit, his warm lips just inches from my aroused sex. Hearing him inhale the scent of my wet cunt tells me that he craves me, my essence, all that I am. I long to feel his fingers invade me, manipulate me, to make me bite my lip trying to hold back my moans and sounds of pleasure. Knowing me so intimately, he would know that a flood of profanity will follow the minute he starts licking my juicy slit, tenderly coaxing my hardened clit from it’s hood. Giving him all access, pulling my legs back to my chest, exposing myself completely to him, feeling decadent and sexy being so vulnerable, I want to feel his tongue lick me from my clit to my asshole and every inch in between. I need his fingers in my asshole while he softly sucks my clit, my legs wrapped around his head, grinding my pussy on him, holding him to my mound while I try to cum so hard in his mouth he thinks he’s drowning, coating his face with my juices as I BEG for him to fuck me.

Make no mistake about it; fucking me is what I want. I can fantasize about all sorts of foreplay, even about how adventurous we could be as a couple, playing in public or playing with others. But all the mental stimulation in the world always ends up at the same destination. I want to be penetrated by a beautiful, strong, loving Black man. I miss the sensation of having that dick rub my pussy lips, teasing me, sliding up and down my slit, making me anxious and excited for that split second when we connect, that instant when I feel him enter me and we become one. I can’t think of a better sensation than feeling that thick, hard dick thrusting into me, pumping me, filling me with ecstasy. If there is a heaven, it’s having the full weight of my man on top of me, hearing him whisper in my ear, “Damn baby, your pussy feels so good on my dick, I love you,” with my nails digging in his ass, pulling him deeper and deeper inside me. And I crave him deeper, harder, faster, fucking me with all his might. From behind, I want him to grab my hips, to feel my tits swinging while his thrusts with all his might and he puts his finger in my ass. On top of him, I want to use his dick like my dildo, making myself cum, rubbing my clit up and down the shaft of his penis while I feed him my tits. Finally, with my legs pressed back and his tongue in my mouth, I long for that explosive finale when I can feel his dick POUNDING me, making me scream, tears in my eyes and ready to receive his precious gift when I’m getting thoroughly fucked.

Copyright 2010 AfroerotiK