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, July 26, 2015

My Soul is Restless





Something is not right in my soul, there’s something amiss.  I feel ill at ease, anxious maybe, like I’m suffering from withdrawal; something’s just not right.  Old folks used to say, “Honey, you just have a good ole fashioned case of the blues.” It’s not that I’m depressed or melancholy; I’m simply frustrated. My body is aching for connection, touch, for intimacy.  Really, what I feel right now can be summed up with two words.  I’m lonely. 

I want to dive into that magical bond with a man that is chemical, genetic even.  I want to sit across a bistro table in the warm summer night air and stare into beautiful brown eyes and laugh at silly jokes and flirt.  I want to smile . . .  just smile from my heart when I see him. I want my hand to fit perfectly in his when we walk along the water’s edge, staring at the full moon, and feel him put his arm around me when I get a chill.  I need that romantic, thoughtful, sweet, amazing brotha in my life who takes my breath away every time I see him. 

I want to kiss.  Oh God, I want to kiss for hours.  I want to feel his body on top of mine, feel his arousal pressing against my body, his hands roaming over my entire curves while he whispers in my ear, “Scottie, I want you.”  I want to be serenaded by Coltrane playing softly in the background as I feel his lips kissing the nape of my neck, nibbling softly on my ear.  I need to fall asleep in a brotha’s strong arms, feel his body conforming to mine, our naked bodies covered by a soft, white, cotton sheet as a ceiling fan swirls above us. 

I’m lonely.  I miss the sensations that only a brotha can bring.  I want to make love.  I want to join body, mind, and spirit together in a hot, sweaty union of passion and bliss.  I want to fuck for hours: tasting, touching, exploring and every inch of his body.  I want to feel my orgasm building to a fevered pitch, feeling the pleasure consume my body as I fight it, as I struggle to channel that energy up my chakras through the top of my head.  I miss the sensation of my juices flowing freely, that slippery, sticky sweat coating our bodies. 

I can’t sleep at nights.  I don’t like going to bed alone.  I toss and turn in solitude, longing for that touch, that connection that I crave so intensely because I’m a better woman when I’m connected.  I offer up my prayers, my petition to the One Most High that I might find a partner with whom I can connect and bond intimately. 

1 comment:

Soul_Sunshine said...

YES! YES! YES! I literally cried at my desk reading this, I need this in my life, I want and am ready for this.