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.

Showing posts with label couple. Show all posts
Showing posts with label couple. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 09, 2014

Show and Tell

The instructions were quite simple.  Write one paragraph describing your lover and the unique passion you have for them.  When faced with that challenge, lots of people choose to just chicken out.  Just the thought of expressing their emotions is uncomfortable for a great many individuals, especially if they’ve never thought too much about them before and especially if they have to write them down and share their feelings with the world.  Others, convinced that the challenge is easy, approach the task with an unsophisticated, cliché effort.  This particular challenge was neither about Hallmark poetry nor vulgarity.  In order to accomplish this task, one has to be articulate, sincere, introspective, and in touch with their sensuality.  Roger Gilford was all those things.  

Ellen Ward, the lovely lady who was the object of Roger’s affection and desire stared at her phone, mildly amused and a bit confused at the cryptic, midday text she got from her lover.  “Babe, we won!” 
            “That’s wonderful, sweetie.  What exactly did we win,” she responded?  In all of his excitement, Roger had left out a few key details in his text.  Actually, he’d left out all the details.  He had entered them into a contest on for an all expenses paid trip to the beautiful island of Turks and Caicos for the first annual AfroerotiK Sensuality and Intimacy Retreat and his entry was the winner.  Wanting it to be a surprise, he had kept the secret, not sure of their chances and wanting it to be a total surprise on the slim chance that they actually won.  He picked up the phone and called her to fill her in on all the details.  There was just too much to share via text.  

“There is but one Ebony Goddess who completes me.  I can merely gaze upon her naked, sleeping form and I’m humbled by her beauty, grace, and splendor.  Her gentle breathing is like music to my ears knowing that it was my sex that allowed her to drift off to such a heavenly, peaceful slumber.  I know without a doubt that I was created for her and her for me.  Her gentle touch strokes me to hardness, her mouth envelops me and the softness of her lips paints pleasure on my hard shaft like I’ve never known before.  The soft, round curve of her chocolate ass is the perfect pillow for me to lay my weary head.  In fact, her ass holds my gaze captive as she walks away from me and my heart aches until I know I will see her face again, the distance between us only fueling our passion for one another.  Her hard nipples are like magnets for my mouth.  It is most certainly her sweet, hot, wet, tight center, that place between her legs, which enslaves me and holds me captive.  Her taste drives me insane with lust.  It is her slippery, sticky, sweet juices that intoxicate me.  She is my divine right partner and it is most decidedly her delicious sex, soft and inviting, that surrounds me, envelops me and I can’t help but release my very essence into the depths of her soul.  

Roger held his breath.  He had never spoken the words he had written about Ellen aloud before and he waited anxiously for some response from her on the other end of the phone.  Words stuck in her throat.  Actually, tears formed in her eyes.  She was beyond speechless that the man she loved so desperately, so completely would actually say anything like that, let alone tell the world that’s how he felt about her.  The fact that those words had won a trip for them to an island paradise was secondary to the pure joy and love she felt at him sharing his prose with her.  

Everything was set.  Roger and Ellen were to fly to Miami with a short layover and head off to the beautiful resort of Amanyara on the island of Providenciales in Turks and Caicos in the British West Indies.  The entire five day, four night trip was to be an experience in sensuality.  Fourteen other couples were going to be in attendance as well.  It was a clothing-optional weekend for swingers, exhibitionists, and couples who were looking to reignite the fires of passion in their lives.  

From the minute they stepped foot on the island, they were in awe of the vibration of sensuality that seemed to permeate the very air.  Everything seemed sexy: the food, the warm ocean water, the scents, and the sounds; everything seemed to be pulsating with eroticism.  The white, warm sand beaches and tropical, balmy breezes were certainly a stark contrast to the dreary winter weather of New Hampshire and represented the perfect getaway for the couple.  The villa they were staying in was nothing less than remarkable.  It was like something out of a dream.  While they had their own bedroom, they shared the villa with four other couples who were all attractive and sexy and looking to create some remarkable sensual memories themselves.  There were chefs on hand to make gourmet meals night and day, a masseuse was on there at the mere snap of the fingers to rub away any tension or stress one might possibly have, and workshops, if you could call them that, were scheduled around the clock for couples to explore oral sex, mutual masturbation, techniques on tantric yoga, and multi-orgasmic sex.  More than workshops, they were opportunities for couples to have wild, uninhibited, fantastic sex in full view of anyone who wanted to watch.  The sexual tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife.  Everywhere you looked, there were brown couples, comfortable with their sexuality, exploring each other in deliciously AfroerotiK ways.  

Roger and Ellen were certainly to be included in those ranks.  They didn’t let too many opportunities to express their love and passion for one another in front of others go by.  Because the villas were so secluded on the island, they could have sex virtually anywhere their little hearts desired.  There were infinity pools, cabanas, and gorgeous white beaches all far from the prying eyes of people uncomfortable with open displays of sensuality.  There was a freedom there, an openness that was more liberating that just going to a swing club.  At breakfast, Roger thought nothing of laying Ellen down on some pillows and placing exotic fruit all over her body and eating it off seductively while others got into the scene and started pairing off and employing some of the same techniques.  

At night, there was no reason to close a bedroom door.  If they were having sex, anyone could come in and watch and float in and out at will.  Everywhere you turned, people were having sex.  Couples stopped to watch and before anyone knew what was going on, it would inspire others to start making love right then and there.  Everyone was comfortable exploring without fear or shame.  Sharing wasn’t a requirement but it was certainly frowned upon either.  And because AfroerotiK promotes such openness, gender wasn’t really an issue when it came to experiencing the sensuality of the retreat.  Women were free to explore with other women as well as men experimenting and exploring with other men without guilt, shame, or fear.  Partners could swap and invite others to join them with the full knowledge that all that mattered was pleasure, sensuality, and fun. 

The final evening of the retreat had a blow-out bash planned.  The lilting rhythms of reggae and salsa music filled the air.  Congas pounded out a driving, sensual beat in the background.  The aromas of amazing food filled the air and fruity drinks with incredibly strong, dark rum flowed freely.  Everyone was dressed in their sexiest Caribbean attire; the ladies more revealing, the men casual yet chic.  Ellen’s pussy had not stopped throbbing with anticipation and lust for the entire four days they had been there and she was even more aroused on their final night.  She had been constantly wet and aroused and Roger had been moments away from a full erection at any given moment.   Tents had been erected on the beach with billowing white sheer curtains flowing in the moonlit night air.  Round beds with satin sheets and down-filled pillows in luxurious colors of red, gold, saffron, and amber were placed strategically around.  The stage was set for some serious fucking.

Everyone danced and ate and drank and socialized until the tension was at a frenzied high.  Finally, needing to break the ice and get the real party started, Roger led Ellen to the very middle of the tent, the full moon lighting their way.  Turning her back to him, he began kissing his way down her neck, causing her to throw her head back and revel in the sensations.  His hands found her breasts and cupped and massaged them through the sensual material of her dress.  He undid the ties that held up her top and exposed her.  The entire crowd circled around them, watching breathlessly.  He began massaging her nipples and stroking and gently pulling them.  The watching eyes of others, witnessing their love and passion was enough to set Ellen on fire.  She slid out of her dress and climbed seductively onto the bed.  Others gathered around.  

Roger slowly, methodically undid the buttons on his shirt and let his pants fall to the ground and stepped out of them.  He positioned himself between her legs and decided to make a feast of her punany.  Pushing her legs back, he softly licked and sucked her clit exactly the way she liked it.  Ellen grabbed the back of his head and held him there.  She thrashed about on the bed, being sure to let everyone know just how much pleasure she was getting.  If exhibitionism is about showing off your sexuality, Roger and Ellen were about taking it to the next level and telling everyone that came close, with their words and their bodies, that theirs was a connection born in love, not just lust.  That was their thrill.  They wanted others to see how into each other they were.  It was their gift to their onlookers.  It was not just about showing off, it was about sharing the beauty of their love-making.  And make love they did. 

Roger licked, fingered, and sucked until his sweet lady love was ready to explode.  Flooding his mouth with her divine nectar she pulled him to her and they shared her sweetness in a kiss.  She decided to take matters into her own hands.  Repositioning herself, she climbed on top him and started licking and kissing her way down his body.  Settling down comfortably, she took his hardness in her mouth and used her mouth, tongue and lips to sensually drive him to the very edge of explosion.  Her hands never stopped exploring his body, caressing his fine, brown frame.  He never stopped telling her how good it felt, what he wanted to do to her.  

Glancing around, Ellen made eye contact with a few of the other couples.  They were staring in wonderment and in awe.  Some had already gone off to the other beds and started their own explorations into hedonism and pleasure but a few of the couples stayed to watch Roger and Ellen to the end.  They climbed on the bed, they wanted to be close, to smell the smells and be a part of the experience.  Turning around and climbing on top of her man, she placed Roger’s dick at her core and descended.  He grabbed her hips and she placed her hands on his chocolate thighs and they collided together.  Rise and fall, she rode the wave of pleasure that filled her.  Her juices were evident on his shaft and they glistened in the light.  Her moans were louder, more urgent.  She wanted to make him cum and cum hard.  

Flipping her over, Roger pushed her legs back and began his masterful, skilled approach.  He pumped his length and thickness inside her, painting her punany with pleasure.  He drove in deeper, harder.  She pulled him closer.  Her legs wrapped around him tighter.  Everyone was fucking now.  In that moment, Ellen remembered the words that landed them there, the winning words she had memorized.  It is most decidedly her delicious sex, soft and inviting, that surrounds me, envelops me and I can’t help but release my very essence into the depths of her soul.”  Hearing those words in her head, she surrendered to the feelings of ecstasy and pleasure.  Roger was not far behind.  He drove himself into her, deeper and harder still, needing her to cum and navigating his own orgasm to time it with hers.  Their mouths met.  Their breath became one.  Their bodies collided with erotic purpose and they yielded to the intensity of satisfaction shared only by two, witnessed by many.  It was a magical trip, both literally and figuratively, for the lovers who luxuriated in the magic of showing off their sexuality and expressing their love.  

Copyright 2012 AfroerotiK All Rights Reserved 

Sunday, November 16, 2014

Remote Possibilities

When the universe sends you the person of your dreams, there’s nothing you can do but hold on for the ride of a lifetime.  There’s no way to plan for it, there’s no way to calculate how things should progress; you just have to be present in each moment to receive the gifts you deserve.  Little did Marcus and Karen understand how perfectly suited they were for one another and how vulnerable it would make them in the eyes of the other. 

Most people assume that when you meet someone whom you like, it all happens by chance, that it’s all a matter of luck.  Little do they know that cosmic forces work diligently, crafting and planning, coordinating and preparing the perfect set of circumstances in order to facilitate the spark that ignites true love.  All the forces of extraordinary chemistry were in place at the Borders bookstore in Hyde Park and the only thing missing were the key players in the game.  Karen Anderson was in place, sipping a cup of tea with her head buried in her laptop, oblivious to the world.  Enter Marcus Stevenson, stage left, precariously balancing a tray with food, books, and an ulterior motive while looking for a seat. 

“Excuse me, Miss, is this seat taken?” 

Karen looked up, slid her things to the side to make space for her new table companion, and mumbled something barely audible that sounded like, “No, go right ahead.”  She went back to staring at her computer screen and shutting out the world around her.  She was desperately trying to stay focused but deep inside her heart had just skipped a beat.  Marcus was breathtaking.  Standing 6’ even, he towered over her 5’6” petite frame.  His butterscotch complexion, dark brown expressive eyes, and enormous smile melted her heart.  Karen was attracted in a way she hadn’t felt since her first crush in Middle School.  Her palms were sweaty and she could actually feel an electric current coursing through her body.  Her body was one big mass of heightened sensation.  To the casual observer, she was just another lady in self-absorbed, technological distraction.  Nervous and shy, she didn’t even dare look up to make eye contact with her tablemate. 

“For all your generosity in sharing your space with me, I think you should at least accept my offer of some more tea.”  Karen looked up as Marcus was sliding a freshly brewed pot of Good Hope Vanilla tea towards her.  He motioned at the fellow behind the counter and said with a smile, “He was kind enough to tell me what you were drinking, I hope you don’t mind.” 

“Gee, that’s very nice of you but it’s not at all necessary,” she said, thinking that was the most polite way to say, “Oh hell no, you aren’t going to drug me with a roofie.”  Before she could even get the thought completely processed, Marcus anticipated her reaction, poured a cup for himself, and took a sip.

“Hey, this is pretty good, I think you might have turned me on to something new.  I like it!” 

Karen smiled at the coincidence and graciously accepted the offer of tea and went right back to burying her head in her work.  She didn’t want to assume he was flirting with her and she was totally unskilled at how to show interest in a man, so she went back to pretending she wasn’t at all interested in Marcus and planning on what she would say on the remote possibility that he extended himself to her again in conversation.  After twenty minutes, she figured she’d ruined her chance of striking up a conversation with him and made a mental note to herself to be just a little bit more assertive the next time a gorgeous man sat down at the table next to her.  She had all but given up her hopes that he might be interested in her, when, she stared at her computer screen and blurted out in complete shock, “Three thousand dollars?”

Marcus looked up from his reading and inquired, “Is everything okay over there?” 

Karen apologized for disturbing him, “Oh, I’m terribly sorry, but I put a bid on something on eBay and the price has shot up to $3000 with only twenty minutes left in the auction.  I’ve been watching this item for a week now and there was no activity on it at $800.  Now, there’s no way I can get it.  It’s way out of my budget.”  She looked disappointed but Marcus thought her cute little nose squished up and her lips pouting out made her look incredibly sexy. 

“What on earth were you interested in getting that upset you so, if you don’t mind me asking that is?”  Truth be told, Marcus was looking for any opportunity to strike up a conversation.  He had seen her sitting at the table from the second he walked in and he was instantly attracted.  It was the sort of, “This is the woman I’m going to marry,” attraction that guys talk about in locker rooms when they are describing the woman that is going to make them change their ways.  From head to toe, she was his idea of perfection.  From her head of braids to her exquisite face, all the way down to her delicious looking toes that peeked out from beneath the table in her cute sandals.  After he made the first move and she didn’t respond, he figured she was probably happily married already with two kids and a dog.  Women that beautiful weren’t the type of women to be single. 

“Oh, it was just a piece of Shona sculpture that I wanted to add to my collection and . . . well, never mind, it’s no big deal.” 

Marcus’s face lit up.  “You like Shona sculpture?  No way!  Check it, I’m reading a book on Shona sculpture right now.”  He handed her a substantial coffee table book that he had been reading and went on and on about how it was such a small world. 

Skeptical, Karen remarked, “Yeah, coincidence, isn’t it, just like the tea.”  Are you sure you didn’t look over my shoulder and see what I was looking at?” 

Confessing all his sins, Marcus whispered so the people at the table next to them couldn’t hear of his attraction to her and his attempt to show his interest with the tea.  “Honestly, I love African art and I was just here to look at some different books and Shona sculpture is one of them.  Promise.  Cross my heart.”  That puppy dog expression on his face made Karen just melt.  For the first time, she let down her guard and started to open up. 

It was only then that Karen let the forces of nature take over and guide the connection that would prove to be the most amazing relationship of her life.  Time seemed to stand still as the two began to get to know each other.  Minutes turned into hours, hours turned into days, days turned into weeks.  The more they shared with one another, the more obvious it became that they were twin souls separated at birth.  They shared the same loves, the same passions, and the same temperament.  Most people would say that a love like that would get boring, that opposites attract, variety is the spice of life and all that.  That’s only because they have no concept of what it’s like to find a true soul mate.  They base their beliefs off of relationships formed from physical attraction and lust and then criticize emotional, intellectual, and spiritual connection because they can’t grasp its parameters. 

Within a few months, it was more than apparent that Karen and Marcus were inseparable.  They both loved salsa music and creative vegetarian cooking and obscure cerebral films.  Their love was blossoming and taking on a life of its own.  They were both supportive of each other’s goals in life, Karen the more creative and Marcus the more technical.  There were no secrets to be kept because they could be completely honest without fear of being judged.  No secrets except for one.  There was something unspoken, something unsaid that was the wedge in their machinery.  Marcus was sure it was the bullet that would kill their budding romance. 

Karen, unaware that there were any secrets, was in bliss.  They’d become physically intimate and he seemed like the perfect lover.  He was responsive and gentle and his sensitivity to her needs reminded her of her previous female lovers.  She’d been completely honest with him, sharing details of her past and being completely open about her preferences.  She wasn’t tied one way or the other with being with women or men.  She was open to loving relationships and she was interested in monogamy so whomever she decided to be with, male or female, was going to be the recipient of all of her love and affection, and she expect the same back in return. 

It was a typical Friday night and the pair had just settled in after dinner to listen to some music and relax for the evening at Marcus’s crib.  Neither of them were big fans of television so when Karen suggested that they watch a movie, it sounded like a great and novel idea to both of them.  There was no TV in the living room; it was hidden in an armoire in the bedroom.  Karen made her way to the bedroom with a copy of the DVD Chocolat in one hand and her shoes in the other while Marcus was off to the kitchen to make popcorn and open a bottle of wine.  He was carrying the tray up the stairs when he froze in his tracks.  He almost dropped the goodies out of sheer terror.  He could hear the sounds from the television coming down the hall. 

Karen has made her way to the bedroom to start the movie.  There were three remote controls and she was just pushing combinations of all of them trying to get the DVD to play.  Marcus still has a combination DVD/VCR player and when the screen flickered and images appeared she quickly climbed on the bed to get comfortable.  She was ready to call out to Marcus to hurry up when what she saw made the words freeze in her throat.  There, live and in living color was a video of two men engaged in some serious, hot, and heavy action.  Karen stared at the scene, two men licking and sucking and fucking, but it was more than just typical porn, it was almost as if they were making love.  Karen shifted on the bed, pulling her legs up under her, drawn to the action and afraid to look away but almost sure she should turn it off before Marcus got there.  In an instant, Karen realized that the porno on the screen wasn’t a regular porno; it was a homemade video.  It was a homemade video of Marcus with another man.  She gasped out loud and looked up to see Marcus standing in the doorway with a look of sheer terror on his face. 

She scrambled for the remotes, trying to find the one that would turn off the video but she was pushing buttons in vain.  For a full minute, she was fumbling, cursing, and pushing more buttons trying to turn off the video.  Finally, she pushed the right one and the screen went to blue.  Blue easily described the look on Marcus’ face as she turned to apologize for the accidental invasion of privacy.

“I’m sorry . . . . I  . . . I . . . I didn’t mean to . . . I’m so sorry.” 

Looking dejected and broken, Marcus set down the tray and sat on the edge of the bed to keep from falling down.  He whispered, “There’s no need to apologize, I’m sorry for being dishonest for all these months.”

It was in that moment, Karen froze.  It hadn’t occurred to her that the video might be current.  They had spent every moment together possible and there wasn’t any time that Marcus’s whereabouts weren't unaccounted for, or so she thought.  She was scrambling for her shoes and trying to make her way out of there without crying.  “I thought, I thought we had something special,” she said, sniffing and holding back the tears.  “I never thought you would be capable of cheating.”

Marcus was dumbfounded.  He hadn’t even considered that she would think that he was cheating on her, he was sure she was going to call him a faggot and a sissy and go off about how he wasn’t really a man and about how she was going to out him to the world.  “No, no, no, that was made over two years ago.  I would never cheat on you.  I respect you too much to lie to . . .”  He stopped himself, realizing that his lack of full disclosure counted as a lie.  “I’m sorry, I’m so very sorry.”  He waited patiently; ready to answer questions if she asked, mentally preparing himself for her to walk out of his life forever.

Karen sat on the bed next to him, covering his hand with hers.  She comforted him.  “I can understand why you wouldn’t tell me about this.  I really wish you had but I can understand why you didn’t.  Boo, we were tested.  I know you aren’t positive.  I could have handled it.  You should have trusted me.”

Marcus felt a sigh of relief flow over him.  He’d been expecting the neck rolling, irrational, deranged tantrum of a woman who was going to rip him a new asshole.  It almost seemed to him that Karen was being supportive, allowing him to share with her without judgment.  He couldn’t even conceive of a woman like that.  “Have I watched one too many Oprah shows or is it possible . . .”  He sat staring at the floor, afraid to speak. 

“Or what?  Is it possible that I’m understanding of you being with another man,” she said, finishing his thoughts.  Baby, you should know me by now, you should know me well enough to know that I would never equate your manhood to something as silly as who you share yourself with.  My identity isn’t shaped by whom I sleep with, why would I think anything different for you?” 

With those words, a weight had been lifted off Marcus’ shoulders.  He turned to face Karen and she touched his cheek softly.  She kissed his lower lip, gently sucking it in her mouth and his hands instinctively encircled her.  She fell back on the bed and he tumbled on top of her, driven by passion.  “No, stop,” he said, “We have to talk about this.”  He stood up and paced the room.  He was trying to find the right words but he was just saying the first thing that came to mind. 

“Sometimes, I think we are more alike than is even possible.  I wanted to tell you so many times.  I wanted you to know but I was so afraid you’d leave.”  He continued pacing and talking.  “Reggie and I were lovers, for over a year in fact.  He’s the only man I’ve ever been with, I swear.  I have to tell you the truth and do with it what you want.  It wasn’t just sex, we were a couple.  I cared about him; he cared about me.  There was no top or bottom; nobody was the woman.  We were both men, involved in an intimate, sexual relationship.  I guess I secretly wanted to get caught by leaving the video of us in the machine.  Seems like some sort of sub-conscious fuck up, right?”  He went on and on about how the relationship taught him more about himself than he had ever imagined, and how he sometimes just missed the sex.  It wasn’t a reflection of his dissatisfaction with Karen; it was just a part of his sex life that really couldn’t be duplicated. 

Finished pouring out his heart and soul, Marcus came out of his oblivion and looked up.  Karen was on the bed naked, with her legs spread, watching the video and rubbing the remote on her clit.  His dick jumped at the sexy sight and he wanted nothing more than to bury his face between those silky thighs.  He looked at the TV and his dick jumped again.  It was the scene where he was engaged in a hot, wet 69 with his lover.  Karen’s eyes were glued to the screen and she seemed to be in a trance. 

“Marc, sweetie, is it inconceivable to you that I could be aroused watching you with another man?  How would you feel if you were to watch a video of me with another lover?  You should have trusted me, trusted that I wouldn’t unfairly judge you.  You should have had faith that I would respect you for who you are and not whom you have sex with.  When I look at that video, I see two incredibly beautiful people engaged in an intensely erotic situation.  It turns me on incredibly.”  She spread her legs and beckoned Marcus to come join her on the bed.

It was Marcus who was in a trance now and he fell to his knees and pulled her sexy body close to him.  Karen took his head and held it tightly against her mound.  Karen spread her legs and awaited her moment of reckoning.  He lowered his mouth to her sweet center.  Her slippery and sweet juices were flowing freely.  Her lips were parted slightly, exposing her silken and pink center.  His tongue softly flicked at her clit, sending waves of pleasure throughout her entire body.  Karen’s body jerked and shook every time his lips sucked her sensitive button.  The more he licked the wetter she became.  Her moans and utterances of profane and graphic directions were music to his ears.  “Baby, I love the way you lick my pussy . . . oh shit . . . fuck . . . yesssss.  . . finger me.  Oh, it feels so good.”  Marcus cupped her ass in his hands, pulled her pussy to his mouth, and drove his tongue deep inside her as she released her juices down his throat.  

Karen was not a woman to be denied her own brand of pleasure.  She moved quickly to take advantage of the situation and climbed on top of Marcus.  She held his stiff dick in her soft hands.  She began to softly, gently lick the head, licking it like a soft serve cone and expertly using the tip of her tongue in his slit.  She began swirling her tongue around the head, getting it wet and slippery with her spit; stroking him to full hardness with her hand.  She looked at him with a sexy look in her eyes took his entire length in her mouth in one stroke.  She took a deep breath and went further down, deep-throating him with a technique that would make porn stars jealous.  “Is that the way your boyfriend did it,” she teased. 

Totally consumed, all Reginald could do was moan and grab the sheets tightly.  He was breathless as he knew what was about to come.  Karen began her technique of licking, sucking, and stroking his dick in a way that made him want to lose his mind.  The pleasure was indescribable.  Her lips, her tongue, her mouth and hands all worked together to suck with the right pressure, to lick the right spots, to give him sloppy, wet, sensuous pleasure. 

Marcus, out of control with lust, grabbed his dick and squeezed it tightly so as not to cum.  “Marcus, make love to me, please.”  She was pleading with him, desperate to have him inside her.  Marcus paused, nervous again.  He took the head of his dick and placed it at her hole.  The heat traveled up his body and Karen pulled him to her.  Her silky walls grabbed him and pulled him deeper.  Their cries echoed out into the calm night sky.  He was stroking her hard and she was meeting each thrust with passion.  It was too intense.  Marcus couldn’t control himself.  He needed to be deep inside her, to fill her completely.  Perspiration glowed on their bodies and their grunts became animal-like.  He braced himself and started working her pussy, hitting every spot, every angle.  He was a machine, giving her pleasure like he’d never done before, experiencing pleasure in ways he’d never known were possible. 

Karen was cumming all over him.  Her body was trembling and her juices were flowing freely.  She was begging for more, pleading with him not to stop, so Marcus concentrated and kept up his technique.  He placed her legs on his shoulders and gripped her hips tightly.  Her soft flesh filled his hands.  The head of his dick was hitting bottom and he couldn’t stop his own orgasm from overtaking him.  The cum in his nuts boiled up and exploded inside his lady love as she held him tightly to her body.

His orgasm hit him hard.  More than just the physical sensation of pleasure overtook him; it was the realization that they there were no more secrets, that he was accepted and loved unconditionally.  He collapsed on top of her and she cradled him and comforted him in her sweet and loving embrace. 
“I will always respect you baby,” she kissed his cheek, “as long as you continue to be a man of integrity,” she whispered our of breath, “and as long as you let me control the remote.”  They laughed, snuggling together as they fell asleep in each other’s arms contemplating the possibilities of what was to come with their new-found sexual freedom. 

Copyright 2006 AfroerotiK

Well, I hope I’ve given a few people something to think about and I’ve opened the door to greater communication for some others.  It’s really past time that we redefine what makes a man and stop having such illogical, knee jerk reactions to healthy erotic expression.  We need to raise our standards of behavior so that sex becomes more than just a way to bust a nut but it is really about sharing someone special with your partner, whether they be male or female.