Night time is the right time when
those feelings and urges start to surface.
During the day, there are enough distractions and obligations to stay
occupied. On the other side of midnight,
the sweet elixir of lust begins to flow freely, creating that dynamic tension,
that insatiable need that can only be filled by the release of an
earth-shattering orgasm. She was
alone. More than alone, she was
lonely. Her spirit yearned for
connection and intimacy. Her heart ached
to love and be loved. Her body craved
passion, passion of the hot, sweaty, fuck-the-sheets-off-the-bed variety. Without a partner, however, her options were
limited. Not one to go to a bar for a
casual pick-up, and not sufficiently motivated to have a meaningless booty-call
or a fuck buddy, her bed was her only companion for the evening. What does a sexually empowered woman do when
she doesn’t have someone to spend time with romantically? What options does an Afrosensual sista have
when there is no companion to satisfy those carnal cravings? Sometimes, a woman just has to just take
matters into her own hands.
Late at night, with nothing but a
red, satin night shirt pulled loosely around her, she began her ritual of
self-love. She was going to make love to
herself, fully and completely, just as if she was her own best lover. Nothing could ever replace the touch of a
real lover though, their fingers caressing her body, making her squirm and moan
with erotic delight, arousing her passions.
Her full, soft, round breasts needed to be caressed and her nipples had
hardened to rock-hard peaks that needed to be pulled, pinched, and twisted. Her skin was soft and supple, moistened by
shea butter, and it glistened in the soft night light. Closing
her eyes, she could almost feel the soft, sensuous lips of her lover softy
sucking, licking, and nibbling those peaks of pleasure. The sensations traveled to her clit and
caused her to get even wetter and far more aroused.
It was the throbbing between her
legs that caused her body to thrash about in wild abandon. The
soft petals of her yoni flower blossomed open and its fragrant aroma was
intoxicating. Slowly, her hands slid down the soft expanse
of her tummy, moving toward the junction of pleasure that resided between her
legs. She spread the lips of her pussy
and her fingers found the spot that would eventually drive her to fits of
ecstasy. Stroking her hardened clit with one hand and thrusting the fingers of
her other hand past her inner lips and deep inside her sweet spot, she got lost
in her ritual of pleasure. Lips parted,
legs spread, her breathing became labored and her moans grew in intensity.
She wanted to feel her lover’s
body on top of hers, crushing her, taking her breath away. She wanted to taste the salty nape of his
neck, feel his hot breath against her skin, hear his profane and erotic
confessions of how delirious and light-headed her pussy made him feel. He was not there. It was not his steely erection she felt
thrusting savagely in and out of her. She
was alone and responsible for her own mounting pleasure, calling her to the
pinnacle of release. Her glasses were
fogged and her sexy brown body tossed, turned, and writhed with seething
hotness. She exploded in erotic surrender
with her imaginary lover and only her pillow to hold tight.
Copyright 2013 AfroerotiK All
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