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.

Showing posts with label ebony. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ebony. Show all posts

Thursday, December 11, 2014

Minority Affairs





When the alarm on his Blackberry went off, reminding him of his 3:00 appointment, Kevin Reynolds was almost tempted to reschedule.  He was all the way on the other side of town at a meeting with a real estate developer at a construction site.  With traffic, it would take him no less than twenty minutes to get back to his office and he would be rushed.  As fate would have it, the fortuitous winds of destiny were blowing, and keeping that particular appointment would be the best thing to ever happen to him. 

Kevin’s job as the Business Development Coordinator for the City of Sausalito, California had him on the go constantly.  Part of his job responsibility was developing minority businesses for the city.  He was so entrenched, so consumed with the demands and rigors of his position that he’d forsaken any attempts at trying to maintain a social life.  That would have been a sad state of affairs for most people but for Kevin, it was really just an inconsequential byproduct of having his dream job.  Given his recent forays in the romance department, he really didn’t mind.  Lucky in love was not a saying that could be used about his love life as of late.  It wasn’t as if he bad looking, at 6’ tall with black hair and blue eyes, was very handsome but he was maybe a little too much of a nice guy to be considered edgy in today’s dating pool.  He’d heard the infamous, “I think we should just be friends” speech too many times to count.  He’d expanded his dating pool to women of color in the past few years and he was comfortable with that but he hadn’t been able to form anything long-term thus far.  Timing is everything and his job was just taking up too much of his time for dating.  Nevertheless, he loved his work and he was enthusiastic, no passionate about attracting the sorts of businesses to Sausalito that would benefit the residents and the community as a whole. 

Exactly on time, with a minute or two to spare even, his appointment was waiting in the reception area as he introduced himself and asked for a few minutes grace period to put his things down and get situated.  “You must be Ms. Jenkins.  It’s a pleasure to meet you.  I hope you’ll excuse me for a few minutes, the City Manager, Mr. Gold, I think you’ve already met with him . . . he gave me some preliminary information on your venture and I’ve done some prep work in anticipation of our meeting and I just want to go over a few things before we meet.” 

Sylvia Jenkins stood to respond, extending her hand as an act of civility and yet igniting a spark that would fan the flames of unspoken passion.  She was breathtaking, nothing less than abso-fucking-lutely, stunningly, insanely gorgeous, and Kevin was caught off guard momentarily with her grace, charm, and style.  At 5’4” tall, with skin the color of bronze and almond-shaped eyes that danced with light, she was the epitome of Black beauty.  Her hair was a mane of flowing dreadlocks adorned with beads that were twisted and piled on her head in some sort of creative crown-like hairstyle that defied gravity and the laws of physics.  Her full, sensual lips parted to respond but the words were momentarily lost on Kevin because he was captivated by the sexy pout and the shiny lip-gloss that accentuated the most perfect smile he’d ever seen.  Wearing a white cotton blouse that would have been conservative on most women, hers wrapped around and sort of had ties in the back or something that gave just a hint at a very, VERY, voluptuous cleavage.  It wasn’t unprofessional, like a stripper inappropriately showing off her new set of triple Ds, it was just sort of a declaration of her womanhood.  A long denim skirt that went to the floor and hugged her undeniably round bottom and full hips completed her outfit.  She wasn’t fat; she wasn’t even heavy set.  She was just the sort of woman that was blessed with heavenly curves in ALL the right places. 

She smelled like an exotic combination of flowers and tropical fruit that was subtle yet intoxicating.  She wore an arm-full of copper bracelets that made a sort of musical sound as she moved her hand.  Her skin looked like it was the most expensive chocolate-colored silk that had been imported from a distant land.  Even after taking in all the details of this exquisite woman in a split second, Kevin was able to pull himself back together and remain professional enough to hear her say, “Take your time, it’s not a problem.”

Her venture was an exciting one for the city of Sausalito.  She was opening a cyber café/gallery/bistro right downtown.  It was the perfect location and the concept was complex but genius in its simplicity at the same time.  She was attempting to create a space where people could come, explore unique African imports for sale in a hands on environment, have some dessert, drink some herbal tea if that was to their liking, connect to the net, and even have some space where she could offer various classes and workshops taught by artisans and talents from around the country for two or three week at a time.  The meeting went seamlessly as Kevin walked her through the final paper work that she would need for her project, assuring that there would be as little red tape as possible with permits and licenses and the many steps it required to have such an intricate business plan. 

It was also a venture that would have the two in constant communication for several months.  An artist herself, Sylvia wanted to have a residential space in the space above her storefront that could house the various instructors she wanted to come and teach for a few weeks at a time, that could be used as a studio, and a place for her to crash when she didn’t want to go home.  That meant putting in a kitchenette, a shower, and getting residential permits.  That required a whole ‘nutha set of paperwork to process and deadlines that couldn’t be missed and just the sort of red tape that Kevin was expert at circumventing.  He was there to help her every step of the way and he made the process seem effortless, shielding her from the tedium every chance he got and going above and beyond to make things flow smoothly.  He wasn’t doing it to try to gain points or seduce her.  He was simply doing his job and being true to his nature to be a gentleman. 

Sylvia was appreciative yet professional.  On more than one occasion, he would stop by the storefront at 7 or 8 at night, after a long day of his own; only to find Sylvia painting or unpacking boxes herself.  He never even inquired if she had a boyfriend, a girlfriend, he never asked if she dated interracially, he never asked about any aspect of her personal life.  He kept their interaction professional yet her beauty mesmerized him each and every time he laid eyes on her. 

The grand opening of Mombasa was an event like none other.  Kevin stopped by to congratulate her and wish her well.  The place was filled to capacity with an eclectic mix of people; there were spoken word artists, drummers, reflexologists, and curious passers by who tasted some of the delicious desserts that were being given out for free.  “I want to thank you for all the help you gave me during this entire process.  I couldn’t have done it without you,” Sylvia said, as she kissed Kevin on the cheek and quickly disappeared into the crowd to mix and mingle as she beamed with excitement. 

It would be several weeks before he spoke to her again.  Having put her project to bed, Kevin was deeply engrossed in his next project and pouring himself into work as usual.  He was pleasantly surprised when he answered his phone to hear Sylvia say, “The Chamber of Commerce is holding that black tie fundraising event at the Crowne Plaza on Saturday night and I was wondering . . . I didn’t know if you  . . . I was thinking . . . “

Sensing her unease, Kevin cut her off, “Oh, are you going to that thing too?  I was going to make an appearance.  I can stop by and pick you up if you want to carpool.”  Regretting his choice of words, not wanting to sound like he was being too aloof, he quickly amended it to say, “I’d love for you to be my date if you would do me the honor.  It would be my distinct pleasure to accompany you.”  He was thinking on his feet because prior to that very minute, he’d never even known that she might have had a personal interest in him.  He wasn’t even sure she did have an interest in him romantically, all he knew was she was fine as hell and if she wanted to go to a formal affair with him, there was no way he was going to say no.

For Kevin, the evening was alive with potential.  He bought a new suit for the occasion and had flowers for Sylvia when he picked her up at Mombasa.  She was even more breathtaking than usual, attired in an evening gown that accentuated her body to perfection.  “Wow, you look fantastic,” was all he could say, rendered essentially speechless by her beauty.

“Thank you,” she said as she kissed him on the cheek for the second time since their meeting, this time it seemed to linger a bit longer than the first time.  She did a twirl and showed off her outfit and said, “Shall we go?”

For Kevin, the evening was an extension of work, introducing movers and shakers to policy makers and trying to coordinate deals outside the office.  He as shaking hands with everyone and he didn’t really have as much time as he wanted to spend with Sylvia.  It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, it just seemed that every time he set out to focus solely on her, someone would interrupt and he would go back into Business Development Coordinator mode.  Several of his co-workers were giving him slaps on the back and nods and winks, implying that they had no clue that he was dating a Black woman, and such a hot one at that. 

“Excuse me Miss, you look rather lonely sitting there, would you care to dance?”  That was Kevin’s chivalrous attempt at adding a little romance to the evening as he extended his hand and wanted to show Sylvia that he appreciated her being so tolerant of him being pulled in so many different directions during the evening.  Sylvia didn’t mind being left alone.  She liked watching Kevin do his thing.  It was part of the reason she was attracted to him.  She was attracted to his understated power and efficacy at what he did for a living. 

On the dance floor, everyone else seemed to fade away.  Kevin held her close and ran his hands up and down her back.  For the first time in months, he was reminded of his dormant sexuality as he could hear gentle moans of pleasure emanating from Sylvia as they sort of swayed to the music.  For the rest of the night, he paid attention exclusively to her.  They talked and laughed and seemed to emit a signal that they were not to be interrupted for business or any other reason.  As the night wore down to a close, he offered to take her back to her car and call it an evening.

“You never saw the complete finished product,” Sylvia said as Kevin escorted her to her car.  “If you have a few minutes, come inside and I want to give you the grand tour, considering you were so instrumental in helping me.”

He really couldn’t have cared less about the tour.  He wasn’t being rude; it’s just that he was captivated by the way Sylvia’s ass moved in that dress and when she walked in those high heels.  He mumbled, “That looks nice,” more than a few times, not really mentioning that he wasn’t talking about the various pieces of art or the décor of her establishment. 

“Oh, I almost forgot.  Would you like to see the upstairs portion?  It turned out fantastic.”  Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed him by the hand and pulled him up a back staircase.  Kevin was expecting something close to a sparse dorm room with a futon, a cook top, and a half fridge, but what he saw looked like a beautiful showroom.  It was decorated in beautiful fabrics and colors, there was artwork all around and lovely touches that made it feel like a home. 

“You did all this yourself?  It looks fantastic!  I should have known that if you were going to do anything you were going to do it well.”  While intended it to be innocent, there was a sexual undertone to the comment that was felt by both. 

“If you only knew, sir,” Sylvia replied, and winked to acknowledge the chemistry that was tangible.  “Would you care for a glass of wine, you don’t have to go now, do you?”  She offered graciously but she was prepared for him to decline her offer. 

“I don’t mind if I do, thanks,” taking off his jacket and making himself comfortable on the cozy loveseat.  After the second glass of wine, and even more conversation, the two began to get a little more comfortable with each other.  Before either of them realized it, it was 3 in the morning. 

Being a gentleman, he rose, saying, “I better get home.  Will you be okay staying here for the evening or would you prefer I call you a cab to get you home? I don’t want you driving.  I’ll leave my car here and come get it in the morning, well, I’ll come get it in a couple of hours since it’s already morning.”

Taking his hand in hers, she said, “You don’t have to go.”  There was a moment of silence when they both knew what was about to happen but didn’t dare say anything to break the spell.  She stood and faced him.  Time stood still for an instant and he tilted her face to his and they kissed. 

Things certainly went from zero to sixty, but it took quite some time to get there.  Both Sylvia and Kevin took their time, exploring each other’s bodies, and capitalizing off of each second of sensual pleasure.  They kissed for what seemed like hours on that little loveseat.  He wouldn’t be rushed so Kevin kissed and licked her neck, finding her hot spot and making her moan in pleasure.  He licked her ears and whispered the sorts of naughty things he wanted to do to her.  She would respond by spreading her legs and grinding her body in time with his.  Her hands roamed freely over his back, caressing him and unbuttoning his shirt at the appropriate intervals. 

At some point, her dress ended up on the floor and Kevin could do nothing but stare in amazement.  She was more perfect than he had ever imagined.  Her beautiful breasts were round and full and capped off by the most delicious, dark, suckable nipples he’d ever seen in his entire life.  Her tiny waist held a belly chain that lay softly on her hips and sparkled in the moonlight.  Her big ole booty was what made women envious and men weak with lust.  Kevin was no exception and he found himself wanting to just start at her pretty pink toenails and kiss and lick his way up her whole body.  



That’s exactly what he did in fact, well, that’s what he started out to do.  Laying her down on the bed for more room to stretch out and get comfortable, he began exploring her body with his mouth.  He parted her soft, brown thighs and couldn’t believe his eyes.  Her pussy was magnificent and it was all he could do not to just dive right in and devour her.  Her inner pink lips opened to reveal themselves like a beautiful orchid.  He gently rubbed the tip of his finger over her exposed and hardened clit and he saw her body respond to his touch.  She arched her back and gripped the sheets, moaning and encouraging him to go further. 

Inserting his finger in her hole, he could feel her slippery, wet juices flowing freely.  She responded with more moaning this time but she was more vocal.  “Oh Kevin, eat my wet pussy.  Lick it.  Suck me.  Make me cum in your mouth.  Don’t tease me; stick your tongue in me.  Put my clit in your mouth and lick it.”

Kevin didn’t disappoint and he ate her pussy like it was better than the five star meal they had earlier in the evening.  Sylvia didn’t stop.  “Oh shit, that feels so good, yeah, fuck, eat me, don’t stop, eat me.  Damn, I love the way you are working my hot, wet, pussy with your mouth, do you like the way I taste?  I’m going to nut all in your mouth.”  That was just what he wanted to hear and he went into overdrive to bring her to orgasm.  She held his head to her pussy and wrapped her sexy legs around his head.  She was grinding on his mouth, using him, fucking his face.  Noticing that she wasn’t saying much, he looked up only to see her sucking her own nipple. 

Kevin was blown away by how sexy she looked in the moment and stood up and took off the rest of his clothes and straddled her body.  He pushed her tits together and cradled his cock between the soft mounds of flesh.  The contrast in skin color almost made him blow his load right there.  He pinched her nipples gently and began thrusting his white dick between her brown breasts.  Sylvia was not one to be passive and she started licking the head of his cock, sucking it between her soft, full lips. 

Leaking precum, he grabbed the shaft of his cock and fed it to her, feeling her hot, wet mouth envelop him as she swallowed him.  He let her control the pace and she used her mouth like a vacuum, trying to suck the cum from his nuts.  There wasn’t much time for a blowjob, as sensual and as hot as it was, because Sylvia was encouraging him to go further.  “Fuck me, Kevin.  Pump your cock in me.  I want to feel you inside me.”

That’s just what he did.  Flipping her over, he positioned her on her knees.  He took another taste of her pussy from behind, teasing her delicious asshole with his tongue this time and getting ready for the ride of a lifetime.  He grabbed his cock and lined it up with her hole.  The heat was intense and he could feel the muscles of her pussy walls grabbing him before the head was even inside.  He held her hips and pushed forward, hearing her cry out.  Once completely inside, she looked back and said, “Fuck me, Kevin, fuck me.” And that’s just what he did. 

He pumped his engorged cock in and out of her wet, hot pussy.  He stroked and thrust and drove every single inch of his hard meat inside her.  She was going wild, chanting and moaning and begging for more.  Her full ass was wiggling and bouncing up and down and the wet sounds of sex filled the small room as he kept pounding her.  He was a man on a mission.  He was intent on satisfying this incredibly sexy woman but he wanted to pour himself into the passion that he’d been denying himself for so long.  He fucked her harder.  She moaned louder.  He could feel the cum in his nuts boiling up.  He looked down to see his white cock glistening with her juices as she cried out, “I’m cumming, oh shit, I’m cumming.” He couldn’t hold back any longer and he pulled out and shot his cum on her ass. 

They cuddled together until the late afternoon, waking and showering and doing it all over again.  Six months later, the couple was still going strong, Mombasa was doing quite well and Kevin was even happier and fulfilled in his job, having found the balance that made his life quite content.  Every day, at 3:00, he had a standing appointment to send Sylvia a text message letting her know that he was thinking about her and that she was his first priority. 

Copyright 2008 AfroerotiK


Saturday, November 01, 2014

Savannah Film Festival




The first week in November is my favorite time of the year.  It’s the time of the annual Savannah Film Festival and my own personal time for indulgence.  I just pack up a bag and head down to Savannah where I’m transported to a different place in time.  If I’m lucky, I can catch the fall foliage colors, hit the museums, and listen to some great jazz while I’m there as well.   Usually, I go as a spectator, taking in the film and surrounding myself with culture.  This year was going to be particularly special for me.  I was going to be debuting my first erotic short film.  Upon leaving last year, I decided I could do the same thing some of those other people I had done and set out to tell my story on celluloid.  I was nervous because there was no “genuine” Black erotic film out there and I was afraid of how it was going to be received.  I didn’t want people to think it was porn and I didn’t want intellectuals overanalyzing what I was intending to do.  I wanted to present to the world twenty minutes of cerebral dialogue, intense emotions, and exquisite lovemaking between Black people. 

I was disappointed because it was yet another milestone in my life where I didn’t have a partner with whom I could share my accomplishment.  I couldn’t dwell on it; I had to expose myself to the world.  I knew most people wouldn’t be able to appreciate it, so I just meditated on staying grounded.  I spent the morning in Forsyth Park right across the street from my Bed and Breakfast.  For me, staying in the Magnolia Inn was a far different experience than the other guests.  For me, it was a reminder of the slaves that labored to build its opulence while they lived as less than humans.  I thought of the black women that had been the possessions of white genteel masters that had to entertain late nights in the very chambers where tourist now casually laid their heads and long for the days of old.  No, for me, Savannah was the vehicle to my history, a dark and painful past that came alive to me in the tortured whispers of my ancestors. 

The Lucas Theater was relatively packed.  I held my breath and recited my brief introduction like I had rehearsed 52 times in my bathroom mirror.  I was praying that people would not be able to tell that I had never directed a community play before, let alone an erotic film.  I closed my eyes and let the entire thing play out in my head, I knew every second of that film by heart.  By the time it was over I had finally exhaled.  The kudos and the backslapping reigned down supreme.  Everyone was congratulating me on a job well done and talking to me about features and a whole bunch of movie industry terms I had never heard of . . . but I played along like I had. 

I saw him lingering in the periphery, waiting to make his approach.  He looked nervous almost, or hesitant might have been a better description.  The crowd thinned out and he made his way to me.  “I loved the fact that you gave him a sense of responsibility.  He was selective with whom he slept, I appreciate that commentary.  So many sexual representations of Black men make us out to be callous and indiscriminate with our partners.  Thank you.”  He turned and started to walk away without further introduction. 

“Wait . . . thanks . . . wait . . .”  There was something about his demeanor that, while soft-spoken, was genuine.  “No one else got that.  Everyone else thought it was just about the sex.”  He turned to face me and I couldn’t tell which one of us was more unsettled.  I didn’t want him to walk away but I was scared to appear too eager.  He was beautiful, there was no denying it, but more than anything I wanted to ask him what he thought, how the movie made him feel.  We stood in silence and stared at each other in awkward pause.  “My name is Robert, I really loved your work.”  We grinned and exchanged pleasantries through the awkwardness. 

“Do you have plans for dinner,” he asked, “If you like seafood, the Sapphire Grill is the best place in town.  I’d love it if you joined me.  We can celebrate the debut of AfroerotiK.”   It looked like it took every ounce of courage in him to ask me but I was the one that was nervous and flattered and speechless.  I felt like a schoolgirl being asked out to prom.  I accepted and he agreed to pick me up at 8.

Dinner was magical.  The conversation was seamless; we laughed and talked well into the evening.  We spoke of erotica and what it meant to us as Black people.  He listened intently as I went off into my passionate discussion of my work and what I wanted it to accomplish.  Wine loosened my inhibitions and I inched closer whenever I could, I made a point to rest my hand on his arm when he made a particularly interesting point.  I let my leg linger on his under the table and made sure my eye contact let him know in no uncertain terms that I was attracted.  I was feeling rather brazen, at least for me who spends the majority of my time in front of a monitor with little or no human interaction for weeks at a time. 

We stood at the steps of the Magnolia Place and talked some more.  “So, I have to ask one more thing. Was your film about your own personal experience?”  If anyone else had asked me that I would have been offended.  That was personal information that no one had a right to know.  The truth of the matter was that I was in everything that I wrote, every erotic story I created.  I knew my feelings and motivations better than anyone, so I didn’t have to guess what a character would say, or how she would react.  All of my erotica represented a side of me that didn’t have an outlet in real life. 

I looked him intently in his eyes and, without answering, took his hand in mine and turned to walk up the ivy-covered steps of the inn.  There was no turning back and I didn’t even have time to formulate a plan.  I was going off of pure adrenaline, and merlot.  Andrew Jackson would probably be rolling in his grave if he knew the things that were going to happen between the two descendents of slaves in the room named after him.  I didn’t want to speak; it would have broken the spell.  I just wanted this to transpire like a movie in my mind—a sensual, erotic scenario of artistry and magic. 

I kept the lights off as we entered the room and dropped my bag by the door.  I didn’t have to worry about what to do next as Robert turned me around and pulled me to him.  I loved that masculine instinct that took over, that thing men do when they want to unleash that primal beast.  It supercedes the reserved, conservative nature that some men have.  It’s so sensual; it makes me feel wanted and desired.  He pulled me into his arms and I reveled in the sensation.  I could feel his hands caressing the small of my back.  I didn’t want to speak because that would have broken the spell.  If I started talking, my doubts and fears would have crept in.  I didn’t want this to stop.  I wanted to live life for once with no safety net. 

The heat was intense between us.  I threw my head back and felt his lips on my neck.  My fever was rising.  I was unbuttoning his buttons as we moved backwards to the bed.  His kisses tasted sweet, his tongue was soft and yielding.  He gently laid me back on the bed and undid the ties of my wraparound dress.  I felt sexy, revealing myself to him like that.  My breasts were aching to be touched and caressed.  My eyes had adjusted to the dim light that peaked through the heavily curtained windows and I watched as he undressed at the foot of the bed; his golden brown skin a delicious contrast to my slightly darker mocha.  My hands caressed my secret places in anticipation.  He lifted my hips and removed my wet panties.  He held them to his face and inhaled deeply my scent. 

I slid back on the bed and he prepared his complete and relentless seduction. My neck was his first target and he kissed and sucked it, cradling in the gentle slope of my throat, licking his way to from my shoulder to my ear.  I threw my head back and moaned; it was my signal to him that I loved every second of his attention.  He found my hot spot and began gently sucking on it while his hands found my breast and began massaging them.  My nipples were aching from arousal as he slid his mouth lower and began sucking and licking all over my breasts.  My arousal was climbing to a fevered pitch as he was arousing me like he had a map to my body and knew exactly how to pleasure me.    I watched in amazement as he kissed his way down my stomach and made my belly button into an erogenous zone.  He made love to my tummy with his mouth; pampering me in a unique way no one else had ever thought to do.  The teasing became more intense.  Robert began kissing his way down the fronts of my legs, my hips, my inner thighs, every place except my incredibly aroused pussy. 

He positioned himself between my legs.  I was grabbing the sheets and thrusting my hips forward trying to get his to lick me.  He was blowing hot breath on my parted and aroused lips; the moistness of my inner flesh evident on my pink folds.  His mouth made love to my sweet, sticky center.  His tongue softly licked my clit and made me cry out with pleasure.  His fingers entered me and drove me to the edge of orgasm.  He was playing my body like a fine tuned instrument.  Giving me pleasure became his sole objective.  I was mumbling incoherently, “Yes . . . oh shit . . . yeah, lick my pussy . . . fuck . . . fuck me.”  I was pulling my nipples and his hands were caressing every inch of skin he could reach.  I placed my hands on his bald head and rested them there because he didn’t need instruction where to go.  He held my long legs up in the air and broke his silence with a pointed question, “Do you want me? ” 

I needed him more than I needed air at that moment.   I let my eyes respond, my eyes, my body and my heart.  I was relinquishing control, giving myself to passion.  I couldn’t stop; there was no turning back.  I didn’t want to be reserved and alone.  I wanted to feel like a woman and I wanted Robert to take me there. 

My moans were louder than they should have been.  He was teasing me and he knew it.  I needed to feel him inside me and he was torturing me with his slow seduction.  His mouth lowered to my hard nipples and I cradled his face in my hands.  I watched him in awe as his left hand touched my body like a paintbrush to a canvas.  He stopped only to position himself at my core and drive himself inside me in one thrust. 

“Mmmmm, no, yes, wait, don’t stop.”  My hands grabbed his ass and pulled him to me.  We fell into a rhythm, a solitary unit of passionate expression.  I was riding high and about to cum.  I shut my eyes tight and felt it about to hit me.  I pulled him to me and wanted to feel every ounce of his weight on me as I reached that place that I can only find in the passionate embrace of a beautiful black man.  His body tensed and I could tell his orgasm was only a minute or two behind mine.  My wetness coated him and added to the soundtrack of pleasure we were experiencing. 

He held me in his arms and I drifted off into a peaceful slumber.  I already knew what my submission to next year’s festival was going to be. 

Ó 2003 AfroerotiK