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.

Thursday, May 23, 2013

Do Unto Others

On Sunday night at the Billboard awards show, Miguel, in a very misguided attempt to outperform the other artists, jumped over the crowd and landed on a woman, snapping her neck back.  Within minutes, the entire Black internet community was creating memes about it, making fun of it, laughing at her pain.  First and foremost, and hear me clearly, just like your grandmother used to tell you, it is not funny to laugh at someone else’s pain.  It’s simply not funny.  She wasn’t walking down the street when she stumbled over a crack, she could have been seriously injured, paralyzed or killed even.  There’s nothing comical, funny, amusing, or entertaining about someone being hurt.  I almost can’t believe I have to say it but if you don’t want it happening to you, or someone you love, and you wouldn’t appreciate someone laughing about it if it happened to someone you know, you shouldn’t be laughing at it.  We, as a society and culture have de-evolved to the point of insanity, where it’s funny to laugh at someone being hurt.  That’s sick and it’s sad.  The tenants of every world religion says “Do unto others.”  But what’s MORE disturbing is the number of people who justified, rationalized, and defended laughing at her pain.  There is something tragically wrong with a society where people can’t say, “Hey, you know what, I was wrong, I’m sorry.”  And finally, the entire situation was sexist.  “Bitches be like, Tricks be like, Chicks be like.”  What did she do to deserve being called a bitch?  Standing near the stage was her crime?  If he had landed on a male, the commentary would have been about how Miguel needed a beatdown.  Black people, we should be ashamed of our collective behavior and sadly we aren’t.  We are doomed as a people if we can’t show the most basic compassion and empathy. 

Tuesday, May 21, 2013


There is a law, a universal law, that is the comprised of time and chemistry and desire.  When all of those elemental forces are combined, they create a world-wind of desire and mind-numbing anticipation.  It’s “The Wait” . . . it’s my overwhelming need to experience you completely, in your entirety.  It has consumed me.  My thoughts and fantasies are filled with the need to be with you, to feel you inside me, to become one with you.  I know the day will come when I will be able to know you intimately but the anticipation is driving me insane.  We have played this game long enough.  Now is the time.  Now is OUR time.  Late at night, when I hear your deep and sensual voice on the phone, and your gentle moans let me know that you are aroused; it’s all I can do to contain myself.  I want you; I need you.  

I long to feel your mouth on every part of me.  Descend upon me like the warm waters of the Nile River bathing the shores of ancient Egypt.  Please, sweet Pharaoh, I’m begging you to take your time.  My desire is to be covered with your sweet kisses as I feel your body press into mine.  I need to feel your lips exploring every curve, every crevice of my caramel-colored frame with exacting and excruciating detail.  That place on my collar bone that protrudes ever so slightly longs to know the feel of your tongue as if they were made to be together.  Feast on my arms, my fingers, my back and neck with the patience of a skilled surgeon and the desperation of a man consumed with lust.  I want you to tell me how it feels as you learn what makes me giggle and squirm with pleasure and delight, kissing your way gently down my body.  I want you to smell my sweet, intimate fragrance like the rare and exotic flower it is.  I want you to take your time caressing the softness of my inner thighs with your mouth, being near my glorious center but knowing it is truly your dessert and savoring every morsel of your meal before you delight in my delicious confections. 

For years I have dreamed of the day when you would become mine.  I don’t wish to possess you like an object but simply be allowed to share in the uniqueness you embody.  I promise that if you play with my nipples until I am burning with passion, I will become insatiable and ravenous to your touch.  I need you to spread my legs as I invite you to explore my erotic folds of femininity and tease my aroused clit gently and softly, ensuring that I whimper and plead for satisfaction and release.  Feel the slippery wetness of my arousal for you, letting you know that I crave you inside me.  Know that my juices will taste like the sweetest honey and wine, intoxicating you with my flavor and flowing freely. 

Mostly, at night, when I’m in bed alone, I fantasize about that moment, that breath-taking sensation when you penetrate me and we become one.  I have wanted that and waited for so long, for far too long.  Now is our time.  I want to give you all of me, not just my body but my heart, mind, and soul.  I belong to you.  I need you to make love to me.  Penetrate me, slow and intentionally, deep and hard.  I want to feel every hot, hard, throbbing inch of you inside me.  I will wrap my legs around you and pull you closer as you breathe new life into me with my kisses.  This is our time; we’ve waited long enough.  I want to get lost in the pleasure of being your woman, being connected to you by the gift so few men have been given.  I’m dripping with desire for you and I am wet and desperate and ready for our union, our reunion really, of our spirits connecting and our bodies colliding in unison and ecstasy. 

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