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 exhibitionism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label exhibitionism. 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 

Thursday, June 30, 2011

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder (Complete Story)

Time is measured in seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years.  Distance is measured in feet, yards, acres, and miles.  But time can feel like it’s frozen in place and a few hundred miles can feel like hundreds of light years when you are away from the one you love.  There is a delicate equilibrium to maintaining a long-distance love affair.  Most people think that the time and the distance away from a lover keep the relationship fresh and exciting.  The perception is that if you only see one another every few months, that you are filled with passion and lust for one another; that you don’t have to deal with the mundane and the tedium that plague average relationships.  To some extent, there is validity in that theory.  You have to squeeze a whole lot of loving and living into a few days when you live far apart from the one you love and sometimes you can’t wait to tear each other’s clothes off and get into some hot and sweaty love-making.  Sure, there is a lot of late night phone sex, and sexting, and all the other forms of intimacy people can share with new technology to hold you over.  But people who are in long-distance love affairs know all too well the down sides of having a partner who is not there day in and day out.  They know about the lonely nights and empty beds, the subtle fear and insecurity that creeps into your subconscious mind, wondering if your lover is finding comfort in the arms of another.  Being separated from your lover is no fun when you need a shoulder to cry on or a simple hug.  The rush you get when you see each other is countered by the long, painful goodbyes that feel like your heart is being ripped out.  Once the relationship has survived the obstacles of time and distance, then there is always the dreaded “conversation,” the looming question is always hanging out there, just beneath the surface at every reunion, “When is it time to move this to the next level?  When is it time for us to move closer together?  What will it take for us to make that commitment?”  Bill and Suzy Suburbia never have to deal with those issues, never have to factor those things into their stable, familiar day in and day out equation.

Cynthia and Esteban were working out the dynamics of a long-distance relationship in their relationship.   When Cynthia moved to Chicago from Philly, the couple didn’t have years together to solidify their connection, they had a few months, a rough and rocky start, and a tremendous connection.  If their affair was to survive, it was going to have to make it on a wing and a prayer, a commitment to honesty, fidelity, and open communication.  It wasn’t the ideal arrangement but it was going to have to work for them as long as they were in love with one another and determined to make it work.  

Esteban had been feeling the pangs of something unfamiliar, something nagging at his gut.  In his heart, he knew that Cynthia was a wonderful woman and perfectly suited for him.  They were compatible in so many ways and the sex was great, which means a lot when you are “no spring chicken” shall we say.  But his commitment to a relationship where he only got sex every few months had been on his mind.  In his heart, he wasn’t sure he could handle the temptation much longer nor was he even sure he wanted to.  Sex with Cynthia was fantastic when they had it, and they had enough phone and cam sex to relieve some of the pressure but it wasn’t the same as flesh to flesh contact.  In his heart he KNEW he didn’t want to be in a relationship with any another woman, Cynthia WAS the woman for him, but he wasn’t as convinced he didn’t want to get hot and sweaty between the sheets with someone else.  The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her but he didn’t think he could live indefinitely with the concept of having sex every three months either.  He knew Cynthia was feeling the pains of separation herself.  He heard the longing in her voice when they spoke on the phone, the growing insecurity she had that he was ready to move on, and he saw the unconditional love and passion she had for him when they were together just lounging around the hotel room when he went to visit.  Neither of them was ready to relocate to be closer to one another again and financially it was still too much of a burden to visit much more often than they did.  He held on to his love for her.  He struggled to remain faithful and, if he was being honest with himself, he was ready for the relationship to move to the next level.  A year of being apart was more than enough time for him to recognize that he didn’t want to live without her but circumstances demanded that they did.

Cynthia was struggling with the distance as well.  For her, it wasn’t so much the temptation of having sex with someone else, it was the lack of intimacy that haunted her.  She needed the touch, the bond, the physical presence of her lover there to keep her motivated on her goals; she needed that shoulder to cry on when she was weary.  It was her job that caused them to be apart and hardly a night went by where she didn’t want to pack it all up and run back to him.  She made a point of bringing up their fidelity frequently enough to let him know that she was aware of his physical needs and she just wanted to stay informed but she didn’t bring it up so much as to lead the horse to the water so to speak.  Cynthia wasn’t sure if their relationship could endure being open but she needed to know that she was going to be kept up to date and in the loop BEFORE the dynamics of their relationship changed. 

With a significant tax refund check in hand, Esteban decided that the best thing to do in order for the couple to recharge their batteries and decide what the next step should be would be to take a much needed vacation for the two of them.  Initially, he was planning on going to New Orleans but there, in the travel agent’s office, he decided he wanted to take her to his hometown, a secluded village in Puerto Rico called Aguadilla.  He knew there that they could be undisturbed and uninhibited.  Aguadilla was exotic and exciting yet comfortable and familiar and someplace they could both just relax and unwind.  An extended four day weekend would be just what they needed to and talk about their future and decide what was to lay ahead for them.

They had connecting flights in Miami and they met in the airport lounge.  Cynthia’s face lit up when she saw him and erupted in that smile that was reserved only for her man.  Esteban was filled with that feeling of intense lust and emotional connection every time he was in the presence of his lady love.  Thanks to a very romantic ticket agent who could tell the two were in love, they were upgraded to first class.  True to her adventurous spirit, Cynthia was intent on igniting passions even before they left the runway.  As they slid into the seats she leaned over to Esteban and whispered, “Honey, I’m so absent minded.  I think I forgot to put on my panties.”  She winked and slid her tongue in his ear seductively.

Esteban tried to remain as calm as possible but he was visibly moved by her naughty revelation.  He glanced down at her smooth, brown legs and ran his eyes up to the bottom of her floral-print silk dress.  Cynthia, feeling particularly bold and empowered, shifted in her seat and spread her legs ever so slightly.  She raised the hem of her skirt a little more to expose more of her sexy thighs as Esteban glanced around to get an idea of who was around and get his bearings.  No one was directly across from them, thank goodness.  Esteban was going to enjoy the ride, literally and figuratively, and with any luck, it would be an extremely bumpy one.

Cynthia leaned closer again; this time whispering in his ear of how wet her pussy was, of how she couldn’t wait to have his hard cock pounding in and out of her hot, tight cunt.  Esteban was feeling light headed and they hadn’t even begun to taxi on the runway.  If she wanted to play, he was going to make her pay.  He leaned in closer and slid his hands up the silky smooth skin of her inner thighs.  Cynthia held his gaze firmly as she spread her legs just a bit more.  As his fingers explored her legs, as he began caressing her sleek folds; electricity shot through his body as his fingers felt the slippery juices of her wetness.

“Okay, enough of that sweetie, let’s wait until we land,” she said.  Cynthia was being playfully coy and flirtatious but Esteban had other plans in mind.  He gently pushed her legs apart more and began softly circling her clit with his index finger.  Cynthia hadn’t planned on things getting so public so soon, her plans were to pace themselves, and let the tension build.  Esteban had other plans in mind.

In a smooth, confident tone, he whispered, “Spread your legs for me.”

Cynthia felt powerless to do anything but comply.  She began nervously looking around, to see who could see their goings on.  She tried to push his hand away but the way he was touching her was causing her mind to be clouded.  Her pussy lips felt so good and the wetter she became the more her inhibitions were washed away.  She regretted her rather flimsy, ill-thought out plan almost immediately, being willing to concede that Esteban was far more of an exhibitionist than she had ever been.

The male flight attendant was making his way down the aisle and Esteban’s fingers got more adventurous.  He pushed Cynthia’s legs open wider and searched for her sweet spot.  Cynthia, practically panicked at the thought of being discovered, was doing her best to dissuade Esteban’s antics as quietly as possible.  She began making negotiations, bargaining, whispering whatever she could to get him to stop what she was sure was going to cause a very public and embarrassing scene.

Esteban would not be denied.  He spread the lips of her sweet pussy and began his digital assault on her aroused clit.  Cynthia squirmed and waged a battle in her own mind about her conflicting emotions.  On one hand, she loved how her man was making her feel, on the other, she was too conservative and shy, too scared to be discovered.  Her body was winning the war as her pussy was leaking and her juices were actually running down her ass.  Esteban stepped up the pace and inserted a finger in her pussy and Cynthia actually had to bite her lip to keep from moaning out load.  He leaned in close, brushed his soft, sexy lips against the nape of her neck and whispered, “Don’t fight it, cum for me.”

Cynthia closed her eyes.  She was about to take a trip, literally and figuratively to a place she had never been before.  The flight attendant was only one seat away when he turned to Esteban and Cynthia.  He froze momentarily.  Esteban, not at all afraid to openly display their sexuality, gave him a knowing look that said, “Don’t say a word, just acknowledge and enjoy,” and the gentleman did a quick double take and calmly asked if there was anything he could do to make their trip more enjoyable.  Esteban shoved another finger in Cynthia at that very moment and she was helpless to do anything but surrender to the exquisite sensations he was giving her body.  Esteban never took his eyes off the flight attendant as he continued to finger fuck Cynthia’s hot pussy.  Beneath the rumpled folds of her dress, he was thrusting his hand between her legs.  Cynthia wanted to keep her eyes shut but she couldn’t.  She was compelled to keep them open, to look directly at the very attractive man who was staring down at her, to let him know that what Esteban was doing felt incredible and she didn’t want it to stop.  She was outside of her comfort zone and feeling vulnerable but she relented to the waves of pleasure that overtook her.  She was incredibly turned on and she trusted her man enough to let him have his moment of very public arousal.

Esteban was truly beside himself as he held the strange man’s attention, captivated and frozen with his actions.  The woman seated beside him was fighting an orgasm in a very public place and the man standing inches from him in the aisle of the plane was obviously very aroused by the scene before him.  The flight attendant’s breathing was becoming labored as he held his eyes fixed to the spot between Cynthia’s legs.  It was all Cynthia could do not to scream right then and there.  She was grinding on Esteban’s fingers, trying to get them deeper, trying to get them to hit her magic spot, trying to be quiet.  Esteban grabbed Cynthia’s hand and placed it on his dick, which could was clearly outlined through his pants.  She started stroking it, hypnotized by the sensations she was feeling, her body aching for release.  She could feel the warming sensations traveling her body.  He could feel her muscles tense up as she was climbing towards her peak.  The flight attendant was in a daze, glancing around to see if anyone was aware of what was going on, and cautious of what the repercussions might be for himself if any of his colleagues discovered his complicity in the obscene behavior, and completely turned on as a man.  Cynthia could hear herself whispering, “Oh no . .  . Oh my God,” over and over again, but she wasn’t in any sort of position or rush to stop, she was feeling too much pleasure.

Without notice, Esteban stopped; he pulled his fingers out of her pussy abruptly and left both Cynthia and the flight attendant gasping for air.  The entire scene probably only lasted a few seconds but it seemed like an eternity; like there had been a glitch in the time and space continuum that made seconds seem like hours.  He began casually chatting with the flight attendant about the options for lunch as Cynthia was trying to regain control.  He held his fingers to his nose and inhaled deeply; even taking the opportunity to lick away some of the sweet juices there as he repositioned his dick and went about his business like nothing had happened.  Cynthia was still aroused and tingling with sensations.  She pushed her seat back and gave herself over to the feeling that it was going to be a memorable trip.

The isle of Puerto Rico was home for Esteban and he gave his beloved a tour that included not only the amenities the island had to offer but also included the places most significant to his childhood.  He showed her the very spot he lost his virginity, the high school he attended, and the house he was raised.  The hotel they were staying at was charming and secluded and everything one could ask for in an exotic paradise getaway.  The beaches looked like blankets of soft sand made by God for lounging and relaxing even with their ominous-sounding names like Crash Boat and Gas Chambers.  The crystal clear blue water didn’t even look real, the azure color was that of a captivating and mesmerizing semi-precious gem and the temperature invited all those who dared to dip their toes in its foaming surf to bathe in its gentle waves.  Before long, Esteban and Cynthia were settled into their suite, comfortable, and they had shed the stress and tension of their daily lives and were luxuriating in their tropical love nest.  The food couldn’t be fresher, caught from the sea and prepared daily, the sweet and spicy flavors of the Caribbean mixing perfectly to please even the pickiest of palettes.  The sounds of salsa music and drums filled the air, providing the perfect backdrop to keep the blood pumping and the tension of eroticism ever-present.  Even without asking, fruity alcoholic beverages in fresh coconut shells with little umbrellas appeared like magic from young, bronzed, shirtless hunks of masculinity and machismo named Juan or Miguel.

For the couple, this vacation was an opportunity to experiment, to explore, and to take the next step, wherever that led.  Esteban knew that this trip was setting the stage for the next phase in their relationship.  Esteban’ biggest present was to come, when he revealed to his long-term, long distance lover his plans for the future.  Cynthia was considering her own options.  She was loving every second of this impromptu getaway and she wanted to commemorate it in a very special way.  They had often talked about the idea of anal sex but they had never tried it with one another.  After her third mango colada, the throbbing intensity of her pussy and her hormones were convincing her that not only would it be a good idea, but that she was actually anxious to get down to business.  She was the perfect level of tipsy, enough to feel no pain, and to experience that uninhibited freedom that liquor affords but not so out of it that she wasn’t responsible or would get sick and forget and regret everything in the morning.

Nestled safely in the confines of their ocean-view suite, Cynthia smiled, feeling that familiar tingle in her bottom, inspired by the thought that they were going to completely lose themselves in a new sexual frontier.  She slid her sexy body next to his, kissed him deeply, and whispered that she was going to go to the bathroom for a few to freshen up.

Cynthia returned minutes later to a darkened room, the light of the full moon from the open balcony doors the only illumination.  Esteban was reclining on the bed, stroking himself in anticipation of making love to his brown beauty.  Still sufficiently tipsy, Cynthia climbed on the bed and snuggled her naked papaya and cocoa butter scented body next to him, using her body to create some sexual tension and friction.   She grabbed her container of shea butter and positioned herself on her stomach, and wordlessly instructed her lover that she wanted a massage.  He complied happily, warming the oil between his palms before kneading her flesh with gentle, loving strokes.

Cynthia decided to keep her secret a while longer but she wanted to tempt and tease Esteban.  Every time he would get closer to her buttcheeks, she would moan and wiggle around, letting him know that he was doing the right thing.  Esteban was not immune to her reactions and he began caressing and kneading her backside with more sensual attention.  Glancing over her shoulder, she said, “Why don’t you finger me . . . back there,” and nervously buried her face in the pillow.  Esteban caught on immediately and started working more of the slippery oil between his fingers to get her ready.

Wanting to go very slow, not for a second wanting to cause Cynthia a fraction of a second of pain, he ran his finger up the inside of her thighs, teasing the bottom of her ass, and traced her spine up and down.  Cynthia was beside herself and moaning and making all sorts of noises.  Inspired by her liquid courage, she grabbed the cheeks of her ass and pulled them apart, winking her asshole at him.  “Do it honey,” she purred, “do it.”

Esteban almost lost it then and there.  He turned the intensity of his massage up a bit and placed his finger at the entrance to her backdoor.  Cynthia had never felt anything so sinfully delicious in her life.  She arched her back and slid her fingers between her legs to her clit, rubbing the engorged button sensually, making her level of arousal increase that much more so.  Esteban, taking matters into his own hands so to speak, slid his other hand between her swollen pussy lips and felt the slippery moisture that had collected there.  By this time, Cynthia was humping the bed and thrusting her ass back at her lover.

“Are you sure you want this?”  Esteban wanted to be sure that what he thought was going to happen was really what Cynthia wanted and needed.

She seductively looked back at him and said, “Oh yes, honey, I want you to really fuck my ass good tonight.”

Esteban almost fainted.  He was sure that was the sexiest thing he had ever heard anyone say in his entire life.  Taking his time, he began his seduction of her backdoor.  He was slow and intentional.  By the time he had worked his finger in her, Cynthia was oblivious to anything but pleasure.  “MORE,” she panted desperately.  He was all the way to the third knuckle when she was saying how delicious it felt, how should couldn’t believe they had waited so long for this, that she was loving every second.  Her pleas became commands, “MORE,” she demanded.

“Babe, I already have two fingers in you all the way.  Are you ready for the real thing?”

Cynthia, quite sure that she could take his dick in her butt, stimulated by the nerve endings in her ass, the sensation of lust, her intoxication, her hard nipples, throbbing clit, dripping pussy and the love she felt for her man, she got up and sensually walked to the open balcony door.  There, in the cool night air, she crawled, naked, onto the chaise lounge and got on her knees and presented her ass like a gift to her man, the ocean a panoramic backdrop to her brazen sexuality.

Esteban got behind her and stared in awe, the salty sea air and Atlantic heat fueling his passions.  He spread the lips of her gorgeous pussy and dove in, tongue first, drinking her juices and spreading them around, getting her prepared.  He rubbed a liberal amount of lubricant on the head of his cock and took aim.  Cynthia controlled the pace and told him when to push and when to hold still by using the commands more and wait.  By the time he had managed to work the entire length of his shaft in her taboo place, Cynthia was sweating and shaking.  Perspiration covered her entire body and shone in the reflection of the moon.  “MORE,” she grunted.

“Babe, I can’t, it’s all the way in,” Esteban responded.  In a state of disbelief, Cynthia reached back and felt the connection of their two bodies.  Other than a brief second or two of discomfort, nothing even close to pain, she realized that she was getting ready to get fucked in the ass.  Just the thought of that in her head made her want to explode, it was so forbidden and sexy and hot.  “Esteban, baby, do it, fuck me.  Fuck me in my ass. Do it, honey. Fuck my asshole.”

A lesser man would have lost it and pounded away with reckless abandon.  Thank goodness Esteban was always the man in control.  He heard her ardent plea but knew he had to go slow.  Slow and steady wins the race and he built up a slow, sexy pace, met with the Cynthia’s thrusts.  The sensation for Esteban was overwhelming: it was tighter, hotter, and more intense than he had ever imagined.  Every nerve in Cynthia’s body felt electrified, she was being pleasured by this new, erotic sensation, the intimacy and the closeness was out of this world.  In so many ways, this was more than just something she was doing for her man; it was something she was enjoying as a woman who was taking control of her own passions.

That revelation was enough to push her over the edge.  She pushed her fingers in her pussy and could feel the engorged ridge of Esteban’ cockhead through the thin wall that separated her pussy and ass as he thrust harder and harder in her back door.  Her juices coated her fingers.  She rubbed her clit in time with his pounding.  Their breathing was in sync and anyone who was walking the beach could have looked up and seen them there, heard their cries of passion.  Cynthia felt the tremors of her orgasm approaching.  She knew without a doubt in her mind that she wanted to make Esteban cum with her ass before she exploded and couldn’t take any more stimulation; she wanted to make her man lose control and experience indescribable pleasure in this newfound way.  “Esteban,” she panted, “Oh, baby, come on, I want you to cum for me. Fuck me.  FUCK ME.  Shoot your cum in my ass.  Deep baby.  Dick me.  I need it.  Fuck my tight asshole.”

Esteban didn’t need to be told twice.  He was already on the verge.  He closed his eyes and allowed himself to feel the pleasure her tight orifice gave him.  Within minutes, he knew he had reached the point of no return.  He grabbed her hips and withdrew his cock almost to the head and thrust it deeply in again and again.  The sound of Cynthia’s moans, the grip her muscles had on him, the exhibitionism, the location, everything served to drive him over the edge and he erupted like a volcano, collapsing to his knees momentarily and then crumbling like a spent and exhausted athlete who had crossed the finish line first.

Breathlessly, Esteban whispered in her ear, “Baby, marry me.”  He hadn’t planned on saying it then, there, like that, but the moment was right.  Cynthia’s eyes filled with tears and she laughed simultaneously.  Even in their post coital bliss, she knew that marriage, the act itself, wasn’t in the cards for them, it was just his way of saying that he was as committed to her as he would ever be, that he couldn’t love her any more than he did.  She didn’t want to move; she didn’t want to spoil the moment.  Esteban knew in that instant that the flight home would be spent discussing the future more than sexy displays of exhibitionism.  He didn’t know what the future held for either of them; all he knew was that he wanted it to include some manifestation of the two of them and the special love that they shared.  The last three days on their island vacation, they fucked, made love, screwed, and fucked some more.  There was to be no more anal sex on that particular trip, Cynthia was a bit tender and needed some time to recuperate, but she had gotten the greatest gift of all in knowing that her soul mate and long distance lover envisioned a future, together, with her.

Copyright 2011 AfroerotiK  All Rights Reserved
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Wednesday, June 02, 2010

Wet and Wild

What could be better than Atlanta in the summer, having a cookout with your friends, chilling in the backyard, and having a ole good time? My crew is ranked high up on the roster of the who's who of the Black Urban Professionals who have migrated to the ATL from New York, DC, Chicago, all over to make our mark. You'd think with all our collective success there'd be a lot of drama and egos to be stroked but all my peeps are down to earth and really chill. Being as we are all transplants, we sort of formed a bond and we all hang together. None of us went to Morehouse or Spelman, none of us belong to the super-huge mega churches that require a W-2 form and a pint of blood to join. There's me, my name is Nowell, and my boy Tracy who is a lawyer for the DA's office. He would make a helluva lot more money working in a private law firm but he's all about fighting crime and balancing the scales of justice. Then there is my boy Ezra, financial wizard extraordinaire and banker to the stars. Well, they aren't really stars but they are the first and second generation rich, white, fat-cats who live in Buckhead. I have my own cleaning business, specializing in cleaning office buildings at night and I'm pleased to say that I've done well for myself. And no, before you ask, I don't hire no damn undocumented workers thank you very much.

My homies Theresa and Vivian were in the house as well, prettying up the scenery. T is a professor at Ga. Tech and Viv works at the CDC doing what exactly I don't know but I know it's some crazy shit that turns my stomach every time I hear her talk about work. I learned my lesson and stopped asking a long time ago. Rounding out the group was my special little shorty, Imani, who is running her own spa and retreat off RDA Blvd. No disrespect to the Georgia belles or the southern peaches or whatever the home grown ladies from the dirty south call themselves but I prefer my women with a little more spunk and a lot less subservience than the native ladies seemed to offer up and Imani had the perfect mix of intellect, beauty, creativity and FI-YAH that suited me perfectly. We're going on two years together and, truth be told, I am planning on putting a ring on her finger and making her mine but I want to plan it out perfectly how I'm going to ask her but me and my procrastinating ass just haven't taken the time to work out all the details.

My house is always the central meeting place for everybody because I have the big pool, the enclosed backyard and the gigantic grill that looks like something they'd install on Extreme Home Makeover. I was having a little theme party of sorts. It was my Latin night, nothing special, informal really, but I had some smokin hot salsa CDs, all the fixins for do-it-yourself fajitas, a couple of pitchers of mojitos and a chest full of Corona's on ice. I gotta pat myself on the back sometimes for being able to pull off my little theme parties with such little effort and a lot of success.

We were all chillin in the back yard, dancing and making up words to songs in Spanish, well, they weren't real words, we were just trying to sing along to the steamy Afro Cuban melodies. We'd played a game of Spades and Tracy and Teresa spanked everyone's ass, like they always do, and made sure to gloat and brag for the rest of the night. While Imani and I are officially the only real couple, there is always a lot of flirting going on amongst the rest of the crew even though I have no first hand knowledge of anybody ever seriously hooking up. I do know for a fact that Tracy has a thing for T and I've seen Vivian and Ezra flirting on more than one occasion. Imani often fantasizes that they will hook up and we will all live in the same subdivision and have kids and the whole nine but, to date, e'rybody was just trying to make sure that the friendship didn't get fucked up so extracurricular lovin was off limits. Imani and I were together before the crew so we were exempt. In fact, we were the anchors of the crew, we both brought our friends to the table and everyone just clicked.

"Damn, Nowell, these Mageetos are good as shit. I gotta make me some of these." Ezra was letting the alcohol go to his head.

"It's pronounced MO-HE-TO silly, and sit your drunk ass down before you fall in the pool and bust your skull open." Vivian was playing mother hen but she looked more like a Sports Illustrated cover model in her skimpy little bikini and that thingie that wrapped around her booty. Ezra wasn't really that drunk; he was just playing it up so he could pull Viv on his lap and get his feel on. He winked at me as he snuggled in her neck and whispered sweet nothings. Knowing E, it was more like nasty somethings rather than sweet nothings.

Tracy and Teresa were in the Jacuzzi, talking about the meaning of life and cosmic, karmic shit like they always do. The rest of us could have stripped down butt naked and done the limbo and they wouldn't have noticed. It was all about intellectual connection with the two of them and whenever we got together, the two of them always ended up in some deep philosophical discussion about the meaning of life. It's not that they rest of us were uninterested or incapable of participating in the dialogue, it's just that they only seem to have eyes for each other whenever our little get togethers go past 9 PM.

I poured Imani another drink and I popped another beer. "Nowell! Are you trying to make me pass out? I've barely finished my last drink. Besides, I have to go to the bathroom. I'll be right back."

I grabbed her hand and pulled her close. "Wait, dance with me first. I love this song."

"You've never heard this song before," she resisted, pulling away, "come on, let me go."

"Just because I've never heard this song before, doesn't mean I don't love it. Besides, I love you and I want to dance." That was all it took and she was in my arms and we were doing the forbidden dance. My shit was getting rock hard and it was a good thing it was now dark outside because the glow from the citronella candles wasn't bright enough to illuminate the big bulge in my trunks.

Dancing didn't last too long before we were interrupted. "Hey, y'all, it's getting late and me and Teresa are going to head out." The girls started kissing each other goodbye n' shit and Ezra and I pulled Tracy to the side. We wanted to know why the speedy exit was in order and why he looked like he had just hit the lotto. "Maaaaan, me and Theresa gettin' ready to take things to the next level. I'm following her back to her place, yo. She's the one; I don't know why I been frontin' for so long. She's everything I've been looking for in a woman and the friendship is there . . . man, I gotsta roll, I'll holla at you cats manana. Adios, I'm outta here." Ezra and I were giving him pounds and congratulating him when we looked over and saw the ladies were huddled together whispering and looking like sexy-ass Charmed sisters, only the chocolate version, getting ready to cast a power of three spell on Tracy. I broke that shit up quick fast before they could talk Theresa out of anything and started passing out more drinks in congratulations of our friends when they left.

We couldn't stop talking about Theresa and Tracy after they left, hoping things worked out, hoping they didn't fuck up our friendship and force us to choose sides if there was a messy breakup. Overall, the tone was positive. They were both great people and they seemed to have a shitload of chemistry between the two of them. Neither of them was prone to drama or bad breakups in their other relationships so we were pretty assured that they had the makings of a long term joint. We were all sitting around chilling, when out of the blue, Imani blurts out, "So Vivian, when are you and Ezra going to hook up?"

If you could have seen the look on both of their faces you would have peed your pants. They both looked like deer caught in headlights, coughing and stammering, trying to play it off. Vivian played it off and said, "Ohhhh, I'm not Ezra's type."

E-Z-E put that shit in check with the quickness. "And what is my type?"

Vivian looked uncomfortable and got up and got more beer. She bent over and I had to look away real quick before I felt a hand upside the back of my head for staring. That big ole booty was looking de-mutha-fucking-licious. Iman's not jealous and I try to be respectful but damn, a brotha can appreciate a fine thick azz when he sees one. She came back with two beers, "Anyone else want one," trying to avoid the question.

"I'll take one but I want to know what you think my type is. You don't think I'm attracted to beautiful, intelligent, sweet, successful women? You think I like chicken heads?" Ezra wanted an answer. "I've been feeling you since the day we met but you was always talking about dude in LA, Gerald, and I wasn't trynta holla when you were into some other guy."

Viv looked like she was offended. "First of all, his name was Levar, where the hell did you get Gerald from? Second, that was over a year ago. You haven't heard me mention anyone since then, at least nothing serious. I just thought that because you never really tried to push up that you weren't attracted to me."

I grabbed Imani's hand and pulled her over by the pool because I could tell things were about to get serious. She was protesting, saying she wanted to stay and clear things up, defend her friend that, in fact, she had stopped talking to Levar at least a year ago. I know my boo and she has been dreaming about the possibility that all our friends would get together since shortly after we first introduced them. And know her like I do, she was going fuck shit up if she interfered. I explained to her that it wasn't about Levar Burton, Gerald Levert or anybody else under the sun at that moment, it was about the two of them admitting that they were attracted to each other and that they've both been fighting it.

When we looked over, Ezra had pulled Vivian down on his lap and they were talking. We could see Vivian take the initiative and lean over and kiss Ezra softly. "See," I said, "just let them work this out. They'll be fine." Things went from 0 to 60 in the blink of an eye. I guess all that pent up attraction to one another had to find some sort of release. E flipped Viv over and lay her back on the sofa thingie, I keep forgetting the name of it but Imani always tells me what it is. Vivian's legs wrapped around him and they started doing a slow grind. I have to admit, it was sort of sexy to be watching them like that.

I glanced at Imani and she was showing signs of arousal as well. Her nipples were poking out and I could clearly see them through her bathing suit. She was breathing heavy and her eyes were fixed to the two brown bodies that were going at it. It was hard not to get turned on by their display. Except for the fact that they were both wearing bathing suits, our friends fucking right in front of us like they didn't give a damn if the whole world could see them. The moonlight, the mojitos, the making out all made my dick harder than Chinese calculus.

I started mirroring Ezra's actions while Imani kept her eyes focused on our friends. When he would kiss Vivian's neck, I would kiss Imani's. She tried to push me away but I could tell from the gentle moans she was making that she was really turned on. Ezra undid the tie on Vivian's top and let it fall to the ground. He lowered his mouth to her hard nipples and started licking them, causing her to arch her back and cry out into the night. I did the same to Imani and she went crazy, grabbing the back of my head and pulling me to her tits.

My mouth was going from one nipple to the other, sucking and licking, feeling her pussy grinding on me, when I heard Ezra clear his throat. He and Vivian were standing watching us, Vivian with a towel held across the front of her. "Hey, yo, uhmmm, do y'all think it would be alright if we uhmmm, crashed in the guest room tonight. We uhmmm."

"Yeah, go right ahead," I cut him off mid sentence, "mi casa, es tu casa," I said, laughing to myself about continuing the Latin theme for the night. They were off before I could even get the words out of my mouth hardly. Imani was saying all kina shit about how everyone hooked up on the same night and how excited she was but I wasn't tying to hear none of that. I pulled her bottoms off and I drove my tongue in between her pussy lips. They were slick with arousal and she tasted food as fuck. She grabbed the back of my head and started humping my mouth.

"Stop, stop, stop," she said all of a sudden. I heard her loud and clear but I didn't listen to a word she said. I started sucking her clit softly while I was trying to untie my trunks and get my dick out. "Stop," she said, trying to scramble away. She pointed to the window that was the back bedroom of my house and I stopped long enough to look up to see what she wanted to show me. I'm a bachelor so the term window treatments was only something I'd heard when watching Trading Spaces with Imani when she was at the crib. I didn't have blinds, curtains, shades, I didn't even have a ghetto ass bedsheet hanging up. I called it my contemporary minimalist look, Imani called it being a trifulling. Anyway, we could see our friends, in front of the window plain as day, going at it. Viv was facing the window and looking down at us and E was behind her with his mouth plastered to her sexy ass. Imani said, "This is getting a little too carried away, let's go inside. Besides, I've had to pee for the last hour and I can't hold it much longer."

"Yeah, I know," I whispered. I started licking her pussy again, driving my tongue up inside her. She protested that we had to go inside, that she didn't want to be seen, that she had to go to the bathroom and probably a few more reasons I didn't pay attention to either.

By the time I slid my fingers in her pussy, she shut the hell up with all that complaining and she was saying, "Nowell, that feels so fucking good, oh yeah, eat my pussy, suck my clit, damn, mmmm, tongue fuck me." I went into overdrive. I tried to lap up all her sexy juices but the more I licked, the more she made. Her clit got hard and I gave it the special treatment. That did the trick because then next thing I knew, she was saying, "What are you waiting for, I need that dick so fucking bad."

That was exactly what I wanted to hear and stood up and took my trunks all the way off. I glanced up at the window for a second and Ezra was holding Vivian, her arms and legs wrapped around him, and he was sliding her up and down on his dick. My dick was eye level with Imani, who was seated, and she grabbed it and started sucking it-- stroking it. It was deep, if I closed my eyes, I could feel the most amazing pair of lips sliding up and down on my dick and if I opened my eyes I could see two people fucking right in front of me. Thinking back, I should have kept one eye open and one I closed. Anyway, when my dick was nice and wet, I sat down and pulled Imani on my lap. She was facing me and I was sucking those titties harder this time.

I grabbed my dick and I said, "Sit on it, ride me." The heat when her pussy lips touched the head of my dick almost made me see stars. Hell, I thought I could see the fucking Aurora Borealis for a minute there when she started sliding up and down on me. Talk about ride or die, this chick was squeezing and grinding and working it like nobody's bizness. I grabbed her ass with both hands and started doing my job to work my dick up in her and hit every spot she had.

"Oh shit, stop," she was chanting, but she was still riding me. I wasn't letting her go and she was meeting my every thrust by grinding her pussy on me and making my dick feel like it was enveloped in a heavenly body. "I'm serious Nowell, I have to pee, let me go." She was out of breath and I could tell she was only minutes away from reaching her special moment.

I grabbed her ass and held on tight. I started working my dick up in her harder. "Go ahead."

She threw her head back and gave into the pleasure momentarily but kept saying, "Please, stop, I really have to pee, let me go, come on."

I had wanted this for a long time. Tonight was the night. The stars were aligned for everyone and I wasn't about to let this opportunity pass. "That's right baby. Go. Go ahead and piss on me. Piss on my hard dick while I fuck you. Shower me, mami. I want to feel all that hot piss on my dick and balls while you ride this mother fucker. Piss right on me."

There was a look of terror in her eyes. Mostly because I think she knew it was too late. I'd been masterminding this up all night. Little did I know that we'd have an audience to watch us but there was no turning back. Imani raised up so that just the head of my dick was in her pussy. The look on her face was one of pure, unadulterated pleasure. We'd talked about it before, about why I wanted to feel her piss on me and she was open-minded but hesitant. For me, I wanted to feel there was nothing my girl couldn't share with me, that we were connected in a way that most people weren't. I wanted to know that I was giving her dick so good that she wouldn't stop for anything. Mostly I wanted to just fuck the piss outta her, plain and simple. I grabbed my shaft and it felt thicker than it had ever felt before. She shut her eyes but I couldn't keep my eyes off that spot. It felt like and eternity and I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want to give her an excuse to back out at the last minute. All I wanted was to feel her hot flow over my dick, balls, and running down my ass.

"Oh shit, I'm really doing it," she softly whispered as I felt the first drops of piss. At first, it was nothing more than a few dribbles. I reached up with my hand and twisted her nipple like I was turning on a faucet and she let out a moan and the flow started getting stronger. She was moaning and licking her lips. "It feels so good, so natural, I like it," she said, "do you like it too? Is this what you wanted?"

She didn't even have to ask. It was like nothing I'd every experienced before. The sound was loud as her stream shot out on me. It was so fucking hot, damn. She was pissing on my hand, my dick, my body was getting wet with her pee. My dick got even harder than before and she was moaning so loud that I'm sure Vivian and Ezra could hear her clear as day. I moved my hand and she sat down hard on my dick and started grinding her pussy on me. Her stream seemed harder and I was trying not to bust a nut so fucking bad. The sound our bodies were making was driving me crazy as we were both getting wetter and wetter.

Imani looked sexier than I'd ever seen her before. She looked powerful and in control. She got up and walked over to the chaise lounge, that's what it's called, and spread her legs. "Come on Nowell, fuck me." I knelt at the foot of the seat and I stared at her pussy. It was swollen from being aroused and getting fucked and it was still wet with piss. I held her legs up, my fingers digging in to the back of her thighs. I pinned her knees back and before she could say boo, I was licking her pussy.

I couldn't believe I was doing it. I was tasting her pussy, wet with her fresh, hot piss. It tasted so damn good, sweet almost. Well, not exactly sweet but it tasted damn good, like her special gift to me. It was such a fucking head rush. She grabbed my head and pushed me away. I looked up and she had a glazed look in her eyes. Before I knew what was happening, I felt her piss hitting my chest. "FUUUUCK!" I stuck my tongue out and I instinctively tried to get it in her stream. She expertly stopped just before I could.

By that time, I was so turned on I couldn't see straight. I got between her legs and aimed my dick and . . . . "Nowell, wait."

Uhhh, whatever, I was not about to wait for shit, I was going to fuck her silly, stupid, ridiculous. She grabbed the base of my dick and said, "Wait . . . piss on me."

What the . . . ? The alcohol must have been going to my head because I could have sworn she said . . . nahhhh, I must have been hearing things. Sure enough, when I shook my head to clear the cobwebs, I heard it again. "Nowell, piss on me."

I sat back on my knees and I looked down at her. I glanced over at the window and I couldn't see Vivian and Ezra anymore. They could have been on the bed, on the floor, they could have been in the kitchen for all I knew. I can't piss with a hardon and I was all prepared to explain that when I heard, "Oooh, yeah, cover me with your hot pee. I want to feel it on my tits. Give me that hot golden shower."

I have never concentrated harder in my life in such a short period of time because somehow, within seconds, I willed myself to pee right there, hard dick and all. I controlled my flow with amazing skill, if I have to say so myself, and Imani luxuriated in it like it was a special treatment at her spa. She was holding her tits together and looking up at me and telling me how sexy it felt. She started sticking her tongue out, tempting me. I was frozen. Before I knew what was happening, she stuck her finger out and put it in the flow of piss and brought it to her mouth and started sucking it.

I lost it. I grabbed her hips and I pulled her to the end of the seat. I could see the drops of piss hanging from the tip of my slit and I rubbed them along hers. "Mmmm, fuck me, Nowell, fuck the piss out of me." I took her words literally and I rammed every inch in my dick inside her. She was soaking wet with slippery juices and the sounds of our fucking were accentuated by the slapping of our bodies together with the pee that was between us. I reached down and kissed her. I could taste the slightly salty sweet taste of my piss on her lips and I'm sure she could taste her own on mine. I went into overdrive and I was deep stroking, long stroking, hard stroking, I was working up a sweat.

Her nails were digging into my back and she kept chanting, "Oh fuck, I'm going to cum, I'm cumming, I'm cumming," and all of a sudden, I could feel her pissing on me again. She was pissing while I was fucking her and she was nutting all over me. That did it and it pushed me over the edge. I pulled my dick out and shot my cum on her pee soaked, sweat stained stomach.

When I regained consciousness (don't laugh at me, shit, I was tired), I went into overprotective mode. 'Are you okay, are you alright?" I kept asking her if she was okay with everything that had happened.

She grabbed my hand and pulled me over to the pool and dove in. I followed and we kissed and she held my face gently in her hands. "I'm more than fine. It's not something that I want to do every day, but I enjoyed it. It was really hot and sexy. I liked it."

The next morning, I was kicked out of bed at 7 AM to hose down the deck and clean up our mess. Apparently, Ezra had similar duties and was up a little after me, in the kitchen cleaning something in there too. I called Tracy and asked him how his night with Theresa went and he was damn near speechless. "Maaaan, you have no idea. All I can tell you is . . . it as wet and wild."

"Oh yeah," I said, "I can only imagine."

Copyright 2007 AfroerotiK