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 fantasy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fantasy. Show all posts

Saturday, March 16, 2013

Sexually Submissive White Men 03/20 by AfroerotiK | Blog Talk Radio

Sexually Submissive White Men 03/20 by AfroerotiK | Blog Talk Radio



It’s a topic so important that we have to do a follow up.  On our last show, we talked about the dynamics of individuals who are aroused by being called racial epithets during their intimate moments with partners of other races.  The last half hour of the show was dedicated to submissive white males and their agendas.  There just wasn’t enough time to go into the multi-layers of this HUGE phenomenon so we’re going to dedicate an entire show to peeling off the layers and exposing this trend, where it comes from, and what it all means.  

On this show, we are going to be exploring the different types of submissive white men, what it  means to Blacks in a racist society to have so many white men sexually submissive, what impact does this trend have on our culture, why this trend has remained so hidden in plain sight, and we will hear from the mouths of submissive white men and Black dominants who will tell all their secrets.  Join us for this fascinating conversation that will surely open your eyes and make you rethink everything you know.  

Friday, June 05, 2009

He Holds the Key to my Arousal in his Hands



Is it possible to be in love with a man for his hands? Well, I’m not in love with him FOR his hands, he’s an amazing man without question but I’m definitely in love with his hands. I can’t explain it. His hands actually turn me on. The shape of his hands, the length of his fingers, even the way he holds his fork drives me to distraction. I think I love his hands more than I love his dick. Okay, let me not go off the deep end, it ain’t that extreme, but his hands give me a special thrill that I just can’t explain.

I love watching him masturbate. It’s like sensory overload. Seeing him stroke the length of his dick, his fingers gripping it tightly, seeing the cum flowing over his fingers thrills me in a way that words can’t describe. I can suck his fingers or his dick and both arouse me beyond belief. One Sunday morning he brought me breakfast in bed. He thought he was being cute by dipping his finger in the honey and putting it in my tea. I grabbed his finger and started licking and sucking every bit of that honey. We had to go to IKEA and buy a new headboard that afternoon because things got so heated after that.

Who knew that hands could be a sex organ? The first time we kissed, he held my face gently in his hands and I felt my heart skip a beat. When I’m riding him, and his hands grip my hips, for a brief second, all my attention is focused on the feel of his hands on my flesh. We walk in the park and he’ll reach out to hold my hand . . . and I feel safe, protected, and secure in the connection.

His hands represent strength to me; the centuries of labor our ancestors endured building this nation that hates us so. His hands represent tenderness to me; his gentle nature is reflected in the movement of his artistic hands. I’m mesmerized when he wears his ring; it reminds me of a sunset over a beautiful horizon.

His hands pleasure me in ways that defy definition. When my body is warm and relaxed after a bath, he’ll anoint my body with oils and massage me to sleep. Well, his intention is to massage me to sleep but feeling his hands slide sensually up and down my body, caressing my sore spots and stimulating my hot ones . . . who can sleep?


We went out for drinks the other night, enjoying a few Afrotini’s and a little jazz. He pulled my chair close and whispered in my ear that he wanted me to spread my legs. My heart started pounding out of my chest. I felt the heat of his hands on my thigh as he moved up my leg, sliding my panties to the side. There, in the middle of a very public place, he took his finger and started rubbing my clit, causing me to signal for the waiter to bring the check and get the hell outta there. He had other plans. I grabbed the edge of the table and held on tightly as his fingers penetrated me, making me bite my lower lip to keep silent. Tease that he was, he stopped, leaving me desperate to cum. He ordered dessert and would wipe his sexy mouth with his cloth napkin, which was really nothing more than his discrete way of smelling my pussy juices on his fingers, inhaling my fragrance. Of all the things that I love about this man, it’s his hands that hold the key to my arousal. I know he was made for me, I for him, because even his hands fit me.

Copyright 2006 AfroerotiK

Sunday, May 17, 2009

A Special Connection

This is a repost of a story I wrote a long time ago. I'm not usually aroused by my own stories but there's something so taboo about this story that it makes me feel deliciously dirty.

Special Connection

Noah had struggled all of his life with issues of abandonment. That was a pretty standard condition for people who had been adopted but he had made sincere efforts to address his concerns and unpack his baggage. He hadn't managed to establish a healthy, long-term relationship in his 30 years of life but he was ever hopeful.

The first and most important step in that journey toward wholeness was finding his birth mother. It was a relatively easy process; she’d only lived less than two hours away for his entire life. She had been looking for him just as he had been looking for her so it was a matter of signing the appropriate papers and waiting for the red tape to be cut by adoption agency personnel. Their reunion had been awkward and rather uneventful. They decided it would be best if they chose to meet their first time at her home to avoid any emotional outbursts at The Olive Garden or some such place. Noah's heart was in his chest as he made his way to her front door. There were still lots of unanswered questions and unresolved issues when the initial meeting was all said and done but Noah and Andrea were well on their way to establishing a healthy relationship and a good friendship. Certainly, the rapport was there without much effort. The age difference was minimal and Noah was awed at how at ease he felt with his birth mother and at their similarities. Finding her had been one of the best things he'd ever done in his adult life, a step that would lead to closure for a lot of emotional triggers in his life that left him distancing himself from women.

As is the case with most busy singles, Noah resorted to the Internet to aid in finding love. It was as a viable an option as any other in this day and age and he opted to use paid sites to weed out the insincere and the fake. There were very few sites like that that catered specifically to African Americans so he'd search to the top three dating sites to cast a wide net. The $100 or so investment was well worth it if he could find his dream lady. He was pretty aggressive in his search He had a list of criteria that was pretty extensive and there wasn't much room for deviation. She had to be a woman of color, intelligent, articulate, spiritual, affectionate, and exude sex appeal. The other things were intangibles that would amount to chemistry and connection upon meeting.

Within 100 miles of San Francisco was a decent distance to travel to find his one true love. As with many search options on dating sites, he had to expand some of his criteria in order to get a fair sampling of profiles returned. Always having an attraction for older women and having exhausted profiles that were in his distance range, he expanded his age range to get a better selection of profiles. Satisfied that 80 profiles would be enough to explore for the evening, he settled in to go over them with a fine tooth comb. He had limited his search to profiles with pictures to prevent any time spent getting to know someone that he wasn't physically attracted to and to save time for all involved.
He hadn't clicked on more than three or four profiles when fate would alter his reality forever. "Degreed Blk Fem sks intimacy, communication, and passion," read the headline. Noah shook his head in disbelief and stared at the screen for a few minutes in a daze. There was no mistake about it, no way to misconstrue that the profile belonged to Andrea, his birth mother. He felt like he was invading her privacy and he closed the profile and moved on. Distracted and shaken, he returned to her profile again, this time to explore every detail.

First, he looked at all the photos. The album held five photos, all tasteful, all showing facets of a very beautiful woman. Noah told himself that the man that got his mother as a partner would be a damn lucky man because there was no way to deny, even at 46, she was a breathtaking beauty that looked more than 10 years younger than her age. Her delicious honey colored complexion was flawless and Noah marveled at the pictures, seeing his own complexion reflected in the womanly curves lady that gave birth to him. He made note of the fact that none of the photos were vulgar but yet they all oozed sensuality. She showed subtle flashes of leg, a rounded bare shoulder, even a sweet, casual shot that wasn't glamorous at all but still showed off her natural beauty. He wondered to himself what his reaction would have been had she had a nude photo of herself among her collection. Noah rated her photos an A plus and went on to explore her profile more.

There was something a little uneasy for Noah to deal with and it was the activity in his pants. He shook his head and made a conscious effort to focus on the computer screen and deny the fact that he had an erection had to do with a taboo that was almost too unthinkable to comprehend. He adjusted himself and kept on, obsessed with finding out anything and everything he could about this mysterious woman to whom he was more connected than any other person on the planet but he knew so little about. Even as he scrolled down the profile, he rationalized that there was probably some genetic DNA predisposition that was responsible for the fact that all the traits he sought in a woman, his mother possessed.

When he got to the essay portion of the profile he swallowed hard and began reading. She articulately described herself and exactly what she was looking for in a man in detail. She wrote, "I'm an accomplished, successful woman who is at a crossroads. I need companionship and friendship with a partner that can allow me to explore my new-found sexual liberation. Understand that I'm not looking for someone to romance me and sweep me off my feet with little or no substance. I need a man that can be open, a good listener, honest, available and accountable. Once you've shown me that you are worthy of my heart, I'm looking to share my body with you in ways you probably can't imagine. There aren't many men that meet my standards and this is a once in a lifetime opportunity to share a side of me that needs more exploration and expression. Younger men are more than welcome to apply because I need a man that can keep up with my rather insatiable appetites."

By the time he finished reading, his dick was in his hand and he was stroking it furiously. Her unapologetic yet sophisticated call for a lover to rock her world yet be more than a fuck toy, to actually be a man committed to the person not just the just package it came in, was arousing on so many levels he could barely control himself. He jerked his hardness, reading the words over and over again. He tried to imagine the unimaginable promises of pleasure Andrea had alluded to. He called her name as he envisioned her satisfying herself in the absence of a man on the very couch they had shared tea when they met. He imagined her sexy breasts glistening with sweat as he pounded her while she dug her nails into his back and screamed for more. His cum erupted as he thought about it being deposited in the very womb that nurtured him for nine months.

He awoke in the morning, hoping it had all been a nightmare. Before his eyes were completely open, he sat in front of his computer screen and pulled the bookmarked profile up again. He noticed that her last visit to the site was within the last 24 hours and he panicked. What if she were to find his profile in the same way? He immediately made his profile invisible to other viewers and went back to her profile again. He pulled his semi erect dick out and picked up the phone. He placed the call without even having a game plan in mind. All he knew was he had to see her and soon.

They chatted and caught up in the uncomfortable way that only adoptive mother and son are prone to do. "Listen, I don't know if you are into this sort of thing but I was hoping you might want to join me next Saturday and go to the Crocker Art Museum. I've exhausted all the museums in the Bay area and I couldn't think of coming to Sacramento without seeing if you would like to join me . . . If you are into that sort of thing," he said, knowing full well that she was. He played on her emotions by adding, "It would make me so happy to be able to share what I love the most with the most special woman in the world to me," his comment had many more layers and implications than Andrea could comprehend.

Andrea, wanting to be open to any hand of civility her son extended to her, accepted before he could finish his little speech but Noah hadn't heard her. She let him finish and repeated her answer, adding that she was flattered that he would ask her and how grateful she was that he didn't hate her. There was a long moment of silence on the phone as the two dealt with their own adoptive demons.

They made plans for him to come there and pick her up next weekend and she even invited him to spend the night in her spare bedroom if it got too late to drive back. Noah hung up the phone and shot off another load within seconds of doing so. What had he just done? More importantly, what was he going to do? He hadn't even planned it out thoroughly; he was going on pure adrenaline and lust.

Over the course of the next few days, Noah tried desperately to purge himself of sexual thoughts of Andrea. He rationalized that most teenage boys had at least a masturbatory fantasy or two about their mothers. It had to be some sort on rite of passage or some natural occurrence in nature, he was just going through his later in life, and it would certainly pass. All week long he would read her profile over and over again, at work, at home; he had even printed it out and memorized every detail, justifying it as a way to get to know this very intimate stranger.

The drive to Sacramento seemed to take forever. He turned up his music loudly and he and Tupac lamented over the trials and tribulations of being a black man in a society that wanted to keep them oppressed. He tried to ignore the constant dull ache in his nuts and half hard dick he would get occasionally but the closer he got to her house, the more he let himself fantasize about being the man Andrea called her man. Hell, except for that pesky little fact that she had given birth to him; he was exactly what she was looking for and vice versa. They shared the same likes and dislikes, predilections and preferences, and they were both in need of the same type of relationship.

He knocked on the door but he hadn't prepared for what he saw when it opened. Andrea was dressed in a sexy black dress with thin spaghetti straps and a low cut v-neck that showed off just the right amount of cleavage. The dress hugged her toned, athletic body perfectly. She wore a pair of sexy, stiletto heels that showed off the blood red nail polish that accentuated her perfectly pedicured toes.

Noah stood speechless for a moment unable to speak. Andrea, sensing some tension, panicked and said, "Oh, I'm overdressed aren't I? I have been trying to figure out what to wear for an hour. I'll go change." With that, she turned towards her bedroom. Noah grabbed her hand and stopped her.

"No, what you are wearing is fine, you look beautiful." The heat of her hand in his burned his flesh as he felt himself becoming completely erect.

"I really do appreciate you offering to take an old woman like me to the museum today. I'm appreciative of any time I can get to spend with my favorite boy," as she patted his cheek gently. Noah's heart did a back flip, hearing words that gave him more comfort than he'd ever known before. "Well, let me go get my wrap and we'll be off. Does that sound okay?" Noah nodded in silence and tried to adjust himself so that his throbbing erection couldn't be seen as she walked away.

The two made a striking couple. There was no way in hell anyone could tell that they were mother and son, Andrea only looking four or five years older than Noah at the most. Granted she was just barely 16 years older but Noah had dated women that had looked and been older than she in his lifetime. He held the door for her as she got in and out of his truck; he held her by the small of her back as they strolled among the artwork. They started to let their guards down and they seemed more at ease with each other than one would imagine. Their tastes in artwork were similar and they shared more information about each other in an effort to catch up on lost time. They both liked the same movies, they both had a love of travel and had been to some of the same places and had even stayed in the same hotel in Paris, twenty years apart. Noah could not stop looking at Andrea and he was more and more curious about the sexual beast that lurked inside her that she alluded to in her profile.

They stopped strolling around and sat on the bench and were deep in conversation. Noah had placed his arm around her shoulder and Andrea had responded by turning her body completely towards him and resting her hand on his thigh. Another black couple, obviously deeply in love, strolled by hand in hand. The woman made eye contact with Andrea and gave the universal sista look of, "Go ahead, Stella, do your thing." The couple stopped and the woman turned back and said, "Isn't love wonderful? You two look beautiful together.

Both Andrea and Noah panicked and pulled away from each other. They both mumbled thank you and awkwardly stood to leave. The couple apologized for interrupting, aware that they had caused some sort of disruption in the flow of things and went on about their business.

"I think it's time to go, we've seen all we can see here." Andrea held her eyes to the floor and had lost some of the joy in her voice.

Noah, not ready to end the evening, tried his best to salvage the chemistry that had been interrupted. "Andrea, you are a vibrant and beautiful lady. I'm sure that's not the last time someone will mistake you for my date. Listen, it's still early, what do you say that I take my favorite lady out for dinner?" They both smiled and got a little teary and took a deep breath at the same time.

Andrea smiled and sunk back into the level of comfort and ease that they had shared before the interruption. The place she chose for dinner was a small, intimate restaurant that was perfect for lovers. For a brief second, Noah allowed himself to contemplate that the sexual attraction he felt for Andrea might be reciprocal. He held her chair out and took her wrap. He "accidentally" caressed her smooth shoulders, or at least he hoped that it had seemed accidental. Once seated he quickly placed the napkin in his lap to hide the protruding appendage that threatened to betray his deepest desires.

Noah ordered a bottle of wine rather than a glass, hoping that the beverage would loosen both their inhibitions and lead to a more intimate connection. The waiter, also assuming they were lovers, or soon to be lovers, poured on the charm and suggested the most romantic dining suggestions, finger foods for appetizers that could be fed to one another, entrées that could be shared, and decadent desserts. After the first glass of wine, Andrea had relaxed sufficiently to let her guard down and she was becoming openly flirtatious with Noah. Noah didn't miss a beat and started going into full mack mode. He was versed in how to make a woman feel like the center of the universe and he was pulling out all the stops. They conversed freely about music and art and politics and eventually the conversation got around to dating. Andrea listened intently as Noah confessed with bitter honesty his adulterous, playboy past and his longing and desire to connect to "the one" and how she had remained so elusive in his life. Andrea was tortured with guilt at being the reason Noah felt so alone in his life and she reached out to embrace him in her arms.

Noah felt her touch and sunk gently into it from an emotional level. He had craved that sensation, that feeling of safety and comfort that only a mother's loving embrace could provide. If only the woman providing that sensation wasn't biologically linked to him he would be in heaven. Andrea, feeling the need to open up, shared the secrets of her emotional past as well. She spoke about looking for love and how she had come up short time and time again. She revealed that she was looking for a person to stimulate her mind and spirit first and that would be the impetus to transcendental love-making. The wine had loosened her inhibitions and she was having a conversation that she normally would have thought was a tad inappropriate. She placed her hand on Noah's lap, dangerously close to his dick and kept on with her revelations, perhaps oblivious because of the slight buzz she was feeling. Andrea could no longer deny the attraction and she downed another glass of wine and relegated herself to the fact that she was involved in a dance of seduction that had horrific implications. Her body was betraying her mind. Her nipples protruded brazenly from her dress and her clit was throbbing to the point of distraction. She excused herself to go to the ladies room and wipe away some of the moisture that had collected between her legs lest he smell her arousal at the table.

When she returned, Noah had paid the bill and was holding her wrap for her. They made the trip back to her home in virtual silence, not daring to speak, both afraid of what was happening. He pulled into the driveway of her home and came around to open the door for her. She gently placed her hand in his as she stepped down and they both stood inches apart from one another, the electricity between them could light up a stadium it was so strong. She tried to say something about, "thank you for a wonderful day," and her words were cut off with a passionate kiss that took her breath away. Noah had lost his resolve to keep his fantasy to himself and he kissed the woman that was the focus of all of his desire. He pulled her body to his tightly and ran his hands over her ass. He thrust his dick against her body and started grinding on her. She responded in kind, holding his face in her soft hands and sucking his tongue sensuously, wrapping her arms around his neck. He picked her up and placed her back on the seat of his truck and she wrapped her legs around him as he began to slide his hands up the smooth skin of her thigh. They kissed more passionately this time.

"No, stop, we can't do this!" Andrea grabbed his hand and stopped him.

Feeling profound shame, Noah backed off and started to hyperventilate. Had he destroyed the relationship he had only just started with his birth mother? He started to mumble an apology when Andrea stopped him. "We can't do this here. Let's go inside."

She grabbed him by the hand and tilted his face to hers. She looked him in the eyes as they kissed again. She held his hand as they made their way to the front door. Once inside, she kept the lights off and felt Noah's presence behind her. He pulled her wrap from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. He caressed her bare shoulder and kissed it softly. She leaned back into him and rubbed her ass sensuously against his dick. Gentle moans escaped her lips as his hands roamed freely over her sides, gripping her hips tightly.

"God, I want this, I want you." Noah was in a fog of lust. Everything about the woman before him was what he had been searching for. He felt driven to experience all that she had to offer, not just sexually but emotionally as well. He wanted his Mommy to love him, in every way possible.

Andrea turned to face Noah and she kissed him with more passion than she had thought possible just a few hours earlier. She was driven by this insane lust of the taboo and the fact that she had an attraction to a man that she had carried inside her for nine months. She reached for his crotch and felt the evidence of his lust for her. She kissed and nibbled on his neck and whispered in his ear that they should make it to the bedroom to get more comfortable.

For a brief second, things were awkward again. Andrea made her way around the bedroom and lit candles while Noah stood and watched. He wondered if he shouldn't just stop things where they were and go home; perhaps they could pretend that none of this ever happened. Ignorance is bliss so they say. The precum dripping from the head of his dick was motivation enough for him to erase all those sorts of thoughts from his mind.

Andrea stood before him and lowered the straps to her dress. She stood in her high heels and a pair of black satin panties and Noah had to swallow hard to keep from slamming her hard on the bed and taking her without any foreplay at all. He wanted her to exploit his fantasies; to highlight his fantasies of being a little boy that Mommy was teaching how to be naughty. He had engaged in role-play like that many times before with other women in similar ways but this was about to take on whole new dimensions. He wondered if pushing the issue would cause her to panic and back out of the situation so he kept his silence.

There was little reason to do so. Andrea was like a woman possessed, loving every aspect of the mother/son incest and she was tipsy enough to let go of whatever inhibitions she might have had. She lay back on the bed and spread her legs. She rubbed her pussy through the thin material and slid her hands inside to put on a show for Noah. She told him to get undressed and she fingered herself while he revealed the perfect sculpted body of a man half her age. He stepped out of his boxer briefs and she started fucking herself that much harder, sliding her panties down to get better access and to show off her aroused and shaved cunt to her sweet baby boy.

Without saying a word, Noah climbed on top of Andrea and started kissing her passionately. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and explored his mouth with passion. She could feel his erection sliding between her legs as his mouth explored her neck and she was moaning very loudly. Noah could feel the softness of her breasts crushed against him and the hardness of her nipples pressed against his chest. There was no mistaking the fact that his dick was rubbing the wet slit of her pussy and he could feel her aroused clit rubbing on the length of his hardness. The heat emanating from her core was like a furnace and she was becoming more and more vocal as things got more and more heated.

"Oh, your dick is so big," she moaned and she reached for it to put her delicate hands around it and stroke it.

Noah almost came right then and right there. It felt so good that he needed to think about Stock Market futures in order to keep from losing his nut. He began kissing his way down her body to the place that was the single focus of his desire, her breasts. He looked Andrea deeply in her eyes as he lowered his mouth to her hardened nipple. There was a soundtrack of ooohh's, and ahhhh's and mmmm's as he began sucking her titties. The softness of her boobs was pleasure untold for Noah and when she grabbed his head and said, "Oh you make Mommy feel so good," he almost lost it.

In a voice that didn't sound like his own and was decidedly adolescent, Noah said, "Does Mommy like when I suck on her titties like that?"

Andrea, fully into the forbidden lovemaking, responded knowing full well where this was going to go. "Yes, sweetie, Mommy loves when you suck on my hard nipples like that. Drink Mommy's milk baby, my titties are so swollen and full. Do you like when Mommy feeds you like that?"

Noah was outside of himself. He was in a realm of arousal he'd never experienced before. "Yes, Mommy, I love sucking your titties. I love doing anything that makes you feel good Mommy. I just want to make you happy."

Andrea cradled Noah's head and reinforced that Noah was a very good boy for making his Mommy feel good. His mouth went from nipple to nipple and Andrea's moans got louder and louder. She was chanting, "Oh yeah, suck my titties baby, drink mama's milk, oh, fuck that feels so good."

"Mama, you said a bad word!" Noah could barely believe how easily his role as pubescent boy came in the arms of the woman that gave birth to him.

"Yes, sweetie, it's okay. Grownups are allowed to say bad words when they have their clothes off like this. It makes it feel better."

"Mommy, can I say those words too? Am I a big boy Mama?"

"What words do you know, sweetie? Who taught you those naughty words?"

"At school, some of the boys say, you know, stuff. And one time I. . ." His voice trailed off.

"What is it dear? You can tell Mommy, I promise I won't be mad." Andrea stroked his hair and soothed his pretend fears.

"One time I watched you and Daddy playing when you were naked and lying down. He said a lot of naughty words." His eyes got big like he was telling a secret, fully aware that they hadn't even discussed who his biological father had been up until that point, just getting off on the nasty fantasy.

By this time, Andrea was holding her breasts up for Noah and making him suck them harder and harder, thrashing around on the bed and consumed with the fantasy of sexing up her adolescent son when it was in fact her thirty something son. It was the fulfillment of her dirtiest desires, desires she hadn't really contemplated as real because she never thought of finding her son, she had assumed she would go her entire life with no knowledge of what happened to him, how he turned out. Until that day in her life, she felt relatively safe that her mother/son fantasies were harmless fun between her and her very adult lovers.

"Mommy, I feel funny . . . down there." Noah pointed to the erection that was leaking and he grabbed its full length like only he knew how to do and forced out more precum. There was no way his enormous prick could be mistaken for a child's.

"It's okay, sweetie, you can use the grown up word for it. Mommy likes when you use the dirty words." Andrea was so turned on, more than she had ever been before in her life and it scared her a little to think of how far she would go in her lust.

Noah said, "Oh Mama, my dick is sooo hard. Do you like my big dick?"

Andrea reached between his legs and felt the hefty organ that was engorged with blood. "By all means, Mommy loves your big, hard dick. It makes Mommy's pussy really wet. Mommy wants to suck that big, fat dick. Come here and let me put it in my mouth."

"Oh Mommy! Are you sure?"

Noah rolled over and lay back on the bed. Andrea wasted no time in getting between his legs and giving him head like he'd literally never had before in his life. She grabbed his erection and started stroking it, making it leak more precum. She licked the salty treat and told him how good he tasted. She took the head in her mouth and swirled her tongue around it and Noah could barely control himself. She went down on it slowly, licking and sucking with painstaking precision. She was getting every inch wet with her mouth and tongue and sucking it expertly with her lips. She swallowed the entire shaft and Noah made a sound that he'd never heard before. Andrea was moaning and slobbering all over his dick like a dick-craved whore and fingering her pussy at the same time. Noah, with the awareness of a grown man, grabbed her and made her stop because he knew all too well that a few more minutes of exceptional head like that would make him shoot his load and he definitely wanted to wait.

Andrea wanted more. She wanted to taste her son's cum and she wasn't ready to stop. She was looking him in his eyes and asking him if he liked it. Noah was out of his mind; it was sensory overload. She focused on sucking the engorged vein on the underside of his dick and it allowed him to calm down enough to regain normal control of his breathing. The room was spinning and it felt like it was 100 degrees in there. She started humming on his dick, sending vibrations up his spine and talking dirty. It was the wanton slut of his dreams, intelligent, sophisticated, beautiful, sexy and desperate for cum.

"You like Mommy's mouth on your hard dick? Use those nasty words you know, treat Mommy like a filthy whore, it makes mommy feel good when you say nasty things to her like a big boy."

Noah was ready to explode and they went past the stage of pretending, it was a real mother who got off on giving her son nasty pleasure and a son who desperately wanted to fuck his mother. He grabbed her head and started moving it up and down on his dick, fucking her throat. Andrea didn't miss a beat and she gagged a little but it only seemed to inspire her to be that much nastier. It seemed she couldn't get it wicked enough, she was in a zone where she wanted to be nasty, with her flesh and blood baby boy. She was deep throating him and stroking him and licking his balls. The raunchier she got, the more she needed verbal stimulation.

"Lick my dick real good and get it nice and wet so I can ram it in your wet pussy. Yeah, your little boy is going to fuck you senseless. Is that what you want? You want your son to ram his big hard dick in you so hard you scream like it's going to rip you apart? "
Andrea wasn't satisfied, she wanted more and she wasn't afraid to go for it. She was inspired by the fact that she had crossed a line that was so forbidden, so taboo, that she had never been so turned on in her life. She was in a sexual fog, a lust inspired by this incredibly sexy man that she was with and knowing that she had birthed him through the pussy that was now soaking wet and screaming for him to fuck her. "No, I want more."
This was going too far for both of them. It was unexplored territory and they were both on a sex high that was like no place they had ever gone; only dreamt about. It was pure, unbridled, uninhibited sex with someone that you trust completely. Granted, there's was a trust that defied rational thought. They were linked genetically but they hadn't known each other more than 12 hours total. Noah sat up and forcefully flipped Andrea on her back. He climbed on top of her and kissed her deeply. "Now, it's my turn. I'm going to make you cum so hard you pass out."

"Don't threaten me. Eat my pussy."

He got between her legs and stared at the place he came from. He knew he had to squeeze off a load before he fucked her or else he would nut too damn quickly when he finally rammed himself in her. He started eating her pussy and stroking his dick. Andrea was giving direction, inspiring him, telling him how much she loved his mouth on her wet pussy. He licked and sucked her asshole with equal enthusiasm and they sunk to new depths of depravity. He shot his load on her feet and licked it off before going back to sucking her clit to orgasm. Andrea was grabbing the sheets and screaming bloody murder, her inhibitions had disappeared like David Blaine on a HBO special. Noah hadn't even gotten soft, he was so aroused and so out of control.

Andrea reached her first orgasm of the night and she planned on having a few more before it was all over. She turned over and got up on her hands and knees and looked back over her shoulder. "Fuck me!"

There was no need for the mother/son reference because she was a woman that needed to get fucked by a man. She was desperate to feel every inch of that hard meet rammed in her cunt walls and she needed him to do it hard and fast and rough. He grabbed her hair and pulled it like reigns on a philly. She responded by chanting, "Fuck me, fuck me, NOW!"

Noah took careful aim. He lined up the fat head of his dick with her hole. He grabbed her hips and with one fluid, fast motion, he rammed the entire length of his dick deep in her uterus. She screamed out in pain but begged for more. For a brief moment, they slipped into a zone of familiarity and peace. Neither of them had ever experienced such profound love before. Noah was experiencing maternal love and Andrea had found the peace she'd given up 30 years ago. Their union was symbolic of the truly forbidden and the transcendent.

Noah began fucking Andrea with the force and the stamina that he would fuck a man and she took it all and begged for more. He worked his thumb up her ass and she started using her muscles to coax out another load of cum. If he hadn't busted off one earlier, that would have been the end of him but he held on tight. He started smacking that ass and reached around to her breasts. He pulled her tits and twisted them in his fingers and she encouraged him to do it harder. "Ohhh, it feels so good."

Andrea gasped for air and gripped the sheets tightly, sweat was forming on her body and she was in agony and ecstasy. The sensation of Andrea's tight pussy on the shaft of his member was so intense, he was sweating trying to work all 9 inches in and he didn't understand how she could even take it all. She reached for lube on the nightstand and tossed it to him. He flipped the top open and poured half the bottle on her and it dripped on his balls, her pussy, the bed, everywhere. Andrea took control and started fucking him back. "Oh Daddy, fuck me, make me a bad girl Daddy." Obviously, their real roles as mother and son were irrelevant at that point. All that really mattered was pleasure.

Noah grabbed her hips and started pounding. Andrea lowered her head and stuck her ass up in the air so the last few inches could get the right angle and sink deep in her. Andrea was moaning loader, begging for it harder. Fucking was supposed to be dirty and primal and filthy in every way and Andrea and Noah were two untamed wild animals that were lost in debauchery and pleasure. Andrea had craved the sensation of losing herself to a man completely and it was in that moment, when the head of his dick was pounding into her that she started to cum. It was a mental orgasm, a freedom from society and rules and inhibitions.

Noah grabbed her hip and started ramming himself deeper and harder, practically ramming Andrea's head in the wall. "OHHHH FUCK! Take it, take my load." He collapsed on top of her and drifted in and out of consciousness for a few moments. Andrea cradled and comforted him as they fell asleep from exhaustion.

Noah awoke in the early morning hours, shaking his head for clarity and trying to recollect what had happened, again hoping it had all been a dream. Andrea was there, awake as well, this time to comfort him and reassure him that everything would be okay. They'd gone places mother and son shouldn't go. They had explored depths from which there was no turning back. "Mom . . . "

Andrea held her fingers to his lips. "Son, we have the entire rest of our lives to figure out how to make sense of all this. I promise, I'm not going to leave you again, even if things are difficult." Neither would know for a long time to come that the people at the adoption agency had screwed up and that they weren't actually related but it fueled their fantasies for quite some time.

Copyright 2005 AfroerotiK

Monday, October 13, 2008

A Twist of Fate

It’s funny how, in an instant, one’s entire programming can be shifted. Given the right circumstances, everything that you’ve ever believed, everything that you’ve fought, feared, and resisted can be twisted and morphed into the thing you crave the most. Such was the case with Taja Crawford, who took a frightening journey that would leave her breathless, satisfied in ways she didn’t know existed, and craving much more.

It all started innocently enough, when Taja arrived home late one night from shopping. She dragged her bags through the front door and dropped them at her feet as she reached around to hit the light switch. She’d been out shopping as usual. It had become her hobby of late in an ongoing effort to make herself feel valuable and beautiful. As soon as the door closed behind her, she knew something was wrong. It was pitch black! She remembered pulling into the subdivision and none of the other houses were dark so she figured that there must be a blown fuse somewhere. Her husband had been working around the house for a few days so she thought that he might have accidentally knocked something out.

“Phillip, are you here?” She called out to her husband again and there was no answer. “It just figures that dumb ass wouldn’t be here to fix the mess he made,” she mumbled half under her breath and half aloud. Taja’s anger at her husband was typical, even if he hadn’t done anything specifically wrong; she was going to find a way to blame him for something. Philip was a model husband but Taja’s irrational standards were impossible to meet. She took pleasure in degrading him every chance she got and knowing full well that he would take it. She thought it was nothing less than an honor and a privilege for any man to be with her, that men had an obligation to take anything that she dished out and not say a word. The more she could degrade him, the better she would feel about herself.

Disoriented by the darkness Taja fumbled to find her purse to get her cell phone. Just her luck, the battery had died. That just made her angrier and curse Phillip more, even though he clearly had nothing to do with her phone. Luckily for her, she’d just purchased some brand new candles so all she had to do was let her eyes adjust for a second and find the lighter, which was right on top of the fireplace in the living room.

Before she even had a chance to get her bearings . . . the unimaginable happened. It was every woman’s worst nightmare and it was happening in her own home. She felt the hands, the pressure, the pain, the fear overcome her body in a split second. Taja was grabbed and immobilized, her arms pulled around behind her as she cried out, “Nooooooooo. STOP,” but her cries were muffled by a black leather gloved hand over her mouth. She was pushed against the front door and she felt the air being forced out of her lungs. She fought, struggling with her assailant, trying to resist him but she was quickly overpowered. Her mind was racing, she was praying, she was planning a strategy for escape all at the same time. She was in a panic. Her fear was soon displaced by rage as she hated this person for invading her home and was filled with the desire to exact revenge, even in her current helpless state. She fought with all her might but she was overpowered as her limbs began to fatigue. She was no match for her assailant.

In a matter of seconds, she had calmed down enough to know that she was going to have to use her wits to get out of this situation. With his hand still firmly against her mouth, she tried to get some image of what this person looked like. Could it be someone that she knew? Was it a total stranger? Fear coursed through every vein in her body as she imagined it was one of her cyber lovers. She’d spent many late nights cheating online, chatting with men in explicit sexual language in an attempt to add some spice to her life, to taunt Phillip and prove to him that she could have any man she wanted. She’d been careless, sharing exaggerated, intimate details about her life in order to make herself seem more affluent than she really was. Maybe one of those men had come to do unspeakable sexual acts on her. Tears were burning in her eyes and a lump formed in her throat, making it nearly impossible to swallow. The adrenaline pumping in her body was causing her to sweat and her legs felt like gelatin.

Her attacker leaned in close and whispered, “Shhhhhhh,” and Taja nodded very calmly to indicate that she understood. As soon as he removed his hand, something was stuffed in her mouth and then a handkerchief or scarf of some sort was tied in place. Her first reaction was to try to scream to get a gauge of how much sound she could make through the material but she held off. She didn’t know if this person had a gun or a knife and what his intentions were so she played it cool until she could devise a plan. He placed a silk blindfold over her eyes and she was struck by his gentle touch. She noticed how he gently lifted her hair to secure the blindfold and the soft lingering touches he gave to her face. She felt the cold metal of a pair of handcuffs being put on her wrists. She needed to know what he wanted to do so she would have to gain his confidence enough to let her speak so she played the part of a scared victim but she was actually using her skills as an actress to make him think that she was incapable of escape.

The strange attacker led Taja down the hall to the spare bedroom and closed the door and locked it behind them. Her heart dropped when she thought about what had happened to her husband. Phillip wasn’t just your average good guy; he was a great guy. He owned his own handyman repair business, not glamorous but it paid the bills. He bought Taja her dream house and he didn’t even complain when he had no say in picking out anything, nothing, not one single thing for the house. He bent over backwards to be nice to Taja’s meddling sisters and her mother. Phillip went to church every Sunday even when Taja felt like she had more important things to do, like shop. He cooked, he cleaned, he even volunteered with disadvantaged youth, he would never cheat and he worked hard to provide for his wife. His only flaw, to Taja, was not being edgy enough. She saw the good qualities in Phillip but she wanted flash, she wanted a bad boy. Certainly, Phillip would never allow anything to happen to her, she knew he loved her with all his heart. She pushed the horrendous thought out of her mind about how her husband and the intruder might have struggled and fought, Phillip losing only to a bullet or knife wound, fighting to protect his wife. She didn’t hate Phillip, she didn’t want anything bad to happen to him, she just wanted him not to take her shit all the time; she wanted to be the wife of someone dangerous. It really wasn’t his fault that he was average.

The adrenaline was pumping in Taja’s veins and she was acutely aware of everything going on around her. Whatever happened, whatever was to happen, Taja maintained her senses and waited for her opportunity to escape.

The spare bedroom wasn’t even a room that she and Phillip usually used. It was for guests when they came to spend the night; the only time it was ever really used was when Phillip slept there once in a while to keep from angering Taja with his presence. The stranger led Taja to the middle of the room, and in a split second, Taja’s arms were hoisted above her head and attached to some sort of cable that was secured to the ceiling. It was the most unbelievably painful and uncomfortable sensation she had ever experienced. Taja was barely standing on her tiptoes and her arms were stretched to the point of excruciating pain. She was trying to balance herself and she felt herself flailing about like a rag doll. Her fight or flight instinct took over and she began crying uncontrollably. She felt her tears stream down her cheeks only to be absorbed by the handkerchief around her mouth. She tried to “feel” his presence in the room. He had moved back and was just listening to her muffled cries. She thought for a second that the end was near and everything would be over shortly. In her mind, she said her goodbyes and repented for her sins and waited for her untimely demise. What could have been seconds, what was probably minutes, but felt more like hours passed. The pain in her arms was unbearable; her legs ached from trying to relieve the pressure but her feet could barely reach the floor. Maybe he was going to leave her there to die, she thought; the victim of starvation, dehydration and torture.

Unexpectedly, he released the cable that suspended her from the floor and let her stand. Her arms were still above her head but the tension had been lessoned to the point where she could move them slightly. Taja was grateful to him for sparing her such pain and she realized that he had won one battle; he had made her appreciative of his small act of kindness.

He moved around in front of her and she could feel his body heat close to her. She felt his hands on her sides and run down to her full hips. He began caressing her breasts and sheer terror shot through her. Without notice, he ripped her blouse open, tearing it like it was nothing. Her breathing was heavy, knowing he was probably standing before her, aroused, but she was helpless to do anything about it. The telltale sign of the cold steel blade of a knife was pressed against her breasts as she froze. He cut away her bra and the remaining portions of her blouse until she stood topless. Having removed his gloves, he began caressing her neck, planting gentle, tender kisses on the nape of her neck and her collarbone. He licked gently, he kissed softly; from her ears to her shoulders and not missing a spot in between. His soft tongue licked up to her ear and he began blowing softly. His fingers stroked her flesh as he sucked the tender spot that always made Taja wet.

Rage coursed through Taja’s body. The unspeakable was about to happen. He was going to violate her, take from her something he had no right to take. For years, she had fantasized about being “raped”. Without regard for what the word actually meant, she fantasized that violent aggressive sex, that a man “taking” her, actually symbolized that she was more desirable than other women. The reality was vastly different.

Her mind was spinning, trying to reconcile the unadulterated fear coursing through her body and her arousal. She was searching for some way to make sense of the fact that while she was angered and scared she was actually enjoying this man kissing her sweet spot. He was making love to her neck with his mouth, licking and kissing and caressing her passionately. She shook her head to shake the thought that here she was, standing bare breasted and restrained by a total stranger, and on some level she was enjoying it. She was actually enjoying the sensation, it was giving her pleasure and it served to distract her from the pain in her arms that were still secured above her head and the anger of being assaulted. She was desperate to move her arms; her restraint was painful, both physically and psychologically.

In an act of kindness, her assailant unfastened the handkerchief around her face and removed the gag from her mouth. Taja immediately began pleading for her life, trying to talk rationally with the man. He didn’t say a word; he gently placed his fingers to her lips to indicate to her that he wanted her to be quiet. Taja froze, and bargained. “I’ll be quiet if you let my arms down a little, they hurt so badly. Please.”

He ignored her pleas as his fingertips began to gently trace her nipples, softly circling her breasts. Her erect nipples stood out from her body, proudly almost, betraying the fact that she actually enjoyed the stimulation. When he lowered his mouth to her tits, a small groan could be heard emanating from her throat. He filled his hands with her breasts and he held them to his mouth. Taja was outdone and began slightly thrusting back and forth, showing barely detectable signs of sexual arousal. She was enjoying his ministrations a little too much for her comfort. He began sucking a little harder and Taja bit her lip to keep from moaning. He started biting her nipples and it was as if it was sending shots of electricity directly to her clit. Her brain was misfiring, somehow causing her to experience the sensation as pleasure. She could feel moisture developing between her legs, the throb of arousal in her pussy. Taja was confused and determined to control her own desire. She was always in control and she was going to do whatever she had to do to keep her pussy from getting wet.

Even the best laid plans need room for variables. As Taja was trying to control her arousal, and the man before her was licking, sucking and biting her hard nipples, she experienced a sensation that would send her mind and body reeling. Her arms were beginning to numb, a dull ache had set in, and she was almost able to tune out the pain when she was jolted by a pain that transformed her focus. Nipple clamps were applied to her aroused nipples as her captor began to pull a chain attached to them. He was toying with her, alternating between softly caressing her breasts and roughly pulling the chain that was attached to the clamps. Taja wasn’t able to hide her arousal, she was moaning in pleasure and in pain. He took what felt like to be a riding crop and began gently slapping her tits. Taja was undone; she felt every sting as pleasure.

Without notice, he stopped, causing Taja’s mind to spin out of control with questions. “What is he thinking, what is he planning, what was he doing?” As soon as he stopped the assault on her breasts, she was reminded of the pain in her arms, still suspended from the ceiling. Within seconds, the cable that held her arms in the air was released enough to let her arms fall completely. He massaged them for a few minutes, taking the opportunity to massage and lick her breasts as well. This time, without the gag, it was impossible for Taja to hide the fact that she was aroused; her moans were audible and guttural. Her arms were burning and sore and his massage felt delicious.

He pushed her to her knees and circled her like a lion stalking its prey. Still unable to see anything, there was no mistaking the sounds of his zipper being lowered. Taja waited, anxious to be thrown into the next phase of arousal and stimulation. She couldn’t deny to herself that she was experiencing pleasure in ways that she had never imagined possible. The restraint, the pain, the fact that it was a total stranger controlling her fate . . . all turned Taja on and she was craving more sensation. When it was all over, when she would tell the tale later, she would deny her arousal, now; she was going to bathe in the nasty and sensual feelings that had been awakened in her.

She felt the tip of his dick against her lips. He held it there, neither one of them making a move to initiate any action. Ever so detectably, he began rubbing it on her lips. The salty, semi-sweet precum that had formed on the head of his dick painted her lips and her first instinct was to lick the fluid away but she remained like a statue, not wanting to scare her captor or cause him to get antsy. He began to stroke his hard dick and she could hear him moaning. He put his thumb in her mouth and continued stroking his dick. Taja was confused. He could easily have shoved his dick in her mouth and there wasn’t much she could do about it. She swallowed the saliva that had collected in her mouth and realized that it simulated a sucking action. He groaned loudly.

He took his thumb out of her mouth and he grabbed a hand full of her hair. Taja let out a yelp and he pulled her hair even tighter in his grip. His breathing was getting more labored and he had now begun to push the head of his dick between her lips. For the first time, Taja wanted to please her home invader. She wanted him to be pleased with her oral skills, to consider her sexy and to want her. Being objectified was her drug of choice and she was high and addicted to the sensation.

The man with his dick in her mouth wasn’t interested in her thoughts and reflections, he was going to fuck her mouth and she wasn’t going to have much say in the matter. He pushed his dick in to her mouth and he stood perfectly still. Taja imagined that he was equally as afraid of losing an appendage as she was afraid of what he might do if she accidentally bit him. Taja wanted to control the action, she wanted to give him a blowjob the way she wanted to do it but that was not to be. He knew what he wanted and he communicated it to her without saying a word. He controlled the pace; he controlled the action. When he wanted her to lick, he pulled her head back, when he wanted her to suck, he shoved his dick in her mouth to the base. He grabbed the back of her head and used her mouth for his pleasure. She could feel every vein, every ridge against her tongue as he face-fucked her. She gagged and choked as he forced the head of his erection down her throat and it seemed to turn them both on.

Taja was enjoying the rough treatment. She was aroused by the way this man was using her and she was stimulated by the fact that he didn’t really let her control the action. She got into the blowjob and started trying to give him pleasure like she’d never done to anyone in the past. It was important for her self-esteem to think of herself as an object of desire and she got into sucking and licking like never before. It was the sloppiest, wettest, loudest blowjob she had ever given and even found herself moaning and enjoying it. It was as if she didn’t have to pretend to be reserved anymore, like she had been conditioned to be; she could be a wanton, sexual slut, and that thought sent chills up her normally judgmental and conservative spine. She rationalized that he was forcing her to behave in this whorish manner and she let go of whatever beliefs that told her she was being a bad girl, she wanted to be naughty and, dare she admit it, submissive.

She felt the head of his dick pounding her throat and she didn’t tense up, she went with the sensation. He got thicker and harder in her mouth as he fucked her mouth more. Taja’s hands were rubbing her pussy through her pants and her attacker was making noises like a wounded animal. He grabbed her by the throat and restricted her air. The rougher he treated her, the more moisture soaked her panties. She was being held captive by a man she didn’t know and she was more trusting of him than she had been with all of her previous lovers.

“Shit,” he cried out, the first word he had uttered all night, and he backed away.
Taja was dazed and caught off guard. In the frenzy of her arousal, she had almost forgotten that he was a real individual. Why had he stopped? Had she done something wrong? She hated herself for wanting him not to stop. Had he shot his load on and not wanted to do it in her mouth? Visions of his dick, shooting cum on the floor as he stood over her, stroking it, enraged her. “Damn you, you son of a bitch. Let me go, RIGHT NOW! You’ll be sorry for this.” She really wanted to beg for his cum in her mouth but she knew not to say another word. She was on fire and it was impossible to deny at that point. She began to plead with him again to let her go but in the back of her mind she wanted to experience just a little bit more erotic torture.

He pulled her to her feet and removed her pants. With painstaking slowness, he pulled them down over her full hips and tossed them to the side. Taja stood motionless, afraid to move, not sure of the reasons why. Her attacker led her to the bed and secured the handcuffs to the headboard. She was laying face down and he made her get on her knees. Taja was embarrassed to be so exposed, so vulnerable yet so aroused. Again, he left her there for a few minutes in silence and in darkness.

She felt the bed shift as he climbed on with her. His hands began caressing her back gently, massaging her sore arm muscles again. Everything he did, he did with such tenderness and care, and it was at that moment that she first thought that her attacker could actually be her husband.

“Phillip, is that you? Let me go. Stop this, this isn’t funny.”

If it was her husband, if it was Phillip, he would surely let her go, he knew she was really in control, he knew that whatever she said was the final word. That belief was shattered when she felt the sting of a sharp slap on her ass. The pain rattled her sense of reality and traveled up and down her spine. Phillip would never defy a direct order from her let alone be so aggressive. She began to panic again. Had she underestimated this perpetrator? Reality sunk in and she began to sob uncontrollably. “Please, please let me go,” she cried.

“Count,” he said.

While Taja was wondering what he intended for her to count, she felt the sharp sting of another blow on her ass. It took of few seconds for her brain to comprehend and she was able to eek out, “One,” not sure if that was the correct response or not, just going with her gut. He followed the slap to her ass with soft kisses to her disciplined flesh. His hands massaged her breasts, rubbed her clit and soothed her sexy round bottom. She felt decidedly masculine hands caress the tender flesh of her ass. His hands were kneading her body and gently stroking her thighs and back. His fingers separated her butt cheeks and he ran them lightly over her asshole. Taja froze in terror. The man responsible for her restraint then slid his fingers down to her soaking wet pussy and rubbed her swollen clit. Taja was pissed, embarrassed, and annoyed at herself for being aroused. She wanted and needed to regain control so she began talking again, trying to hide her true feelings, begging to be let go.

The next blow came without warning and she cried out “Owwwww,” as tears formed in her eyes. She remembered to say “Two,” and lay her head on the pillow as an act of exhaustion, both physical and mental. What followed was more caressing and more spanking, more fingering and more counting, more tender touches and searing pain combined. She felt his hands caressing the tender and heated flesh of her ass. The more he caressed, the wetter her pussy became. He would rub her sore nipples and spank her butt and thighs. It was torture; erotic, sensual, heavenly torture. Her head was reeling; it wasn’t supposed to feel pleasurable. She wasn’t supposed to be enjoying this. The stinging was registering in her brain as bliss and she was tormented by the fact that each slap was followed by him gently rubbing her clit to near orgasm. She began to look forward to each slap, to him bringing her closer and closer to fierce explosion every time. By the time she got to twenty, she was experiencing each slap as pleasure, each sting was ecstasy. Her pussy was dripping and her clit was throbbing and she was desperate to cum.

Without warning, she felt the softness of a tongue licking her soaking wet pussy. “Noooo, she cried out, not sure why she was saying it; she truly didn’t want him to stop. She was trying to stop him from having more control over her and the fact that he was teasing her with such expertise. She was pulling against her restraints, and trying to fight her own orgasm as he licked her from front to back.

There was no stopping him; he was going to make her cum and cum hard. She fought it with her mind but her body was betraying her intentions. She had been so aroused for so long, she was at the brink of sensual release. Ecstasy washed over her body and his lips gently sucked her clit as his tongue fucked her hole. He lapped and licked, nibbled and sucked and made her grind her pussy on his face. She moaned in the pillow and begged him not to stop.

She felt the head of his dick rubbing her pussy. She was beyond the point of rational thought. Like a light switch going off in her head, she realized that the life of control and rules she had lived by were mere illusions. She wanted to be fucked, fucked good, fucked hard, and fucked long. She needed to be fucked. She heard the words coming out of her mouth but they sounded like they were coming from someone else. They sounded like they were coming from a wounded animal. “Fuuuuuck meeeee pleeeeease.”

Time froze. In an instant, the handcuffs were released and a small nightlight was turned on. She could tell her captor got off the bed and stood back, waiting for her to make a move. She kept her head in the pillow with her ass in the air, not moving an inch. She knew she should get up and run but she couldn’t. She wanted to turn around and see the face of her captor. She remained frozen. She said it again, this time aware that she could no longer claim to being forced to do anything. “Fuck me.”

The ringing in her ears and the desperation in her wet pussy drove her to say the words that she wouldn’t have thought possible two hours earlier. She felt the head rub from her clit to her asshole and she arched backwards, trying to get him to penetrate her. She was desperate to feel that sensation of him hitting bottom deep inside her. She needed to feel full with his hardness, the ecstasy that a woman can only feel when a big hard dick is filling her, stretching her, pounding her. It was a strange twist of fate that had her craving the very sensation that she had fought all her life to deny. She wanted to be submissive, to let go of all the stereotypes and standards that told her that she had to be a strong black woman that didn’t put up with anything, that called all the shots. She realized that her freedom was in letting go, was in letting someone else have the reins of control and it had nothing to do with her being weak, it was simply a shift in power. She was tired of pretending that she had to be everything to everyone, she was tired of needing to feel like a bitch. In that moment she wanted to surrender to sensations that she had no control over and she craved that release.

“Say it again,” he said again calmly.

In a surreal declaration, she said the words that released her from her invisible bonds. “Now! Please! Fuck me!”

With those words, he took the head of his dick and placed it at the head of her asshole. Anal sex was something she’d done before but it had been a long time ago, with boyfriends that insisted she had to do it to prove that she loved them. It’d been many years since she even thought about doing it and fear paralyzed her body. She wasn’t even sure she could take it. There was no doubt in her mind that it was going to hurt. Why then, was her body screaming out for this stranger to do it? She wanted to feel like she was giving him the ultimate symbol of her submission to him.

Exquisitely slow and with exhausting skill, her captor managed to get the head inserted with no pain at all. Taja was sweating and her musky scent was reminiscent of a wild animal but it was sexy and primal. The fact that just the head of his dick was inside her was driving her out of her mind. She started pushing back and driving more meat inside her backdoor. The sensation of being filled like that was causing her to grunt and moan. It was as if she couldn’t breath and every millimeter shoved inside her felt like miles of orgasmic pleasure. Teeth marks were embedded in the pillowcase and her hands gripped the sheets tightly. Through it all, he wouldn’t move and inch; he let her control the penetration. It was only when she reached between her legs to rub her clit that she realized that he was completely buried inside her. She’d past her threshold of pleasure and it was time for some fast and furious fucking.

Taja had to grab the headboard to keep her head from being rammed. In an instant, he was fucking her senseless. She pushed back; he pumped harder. Every inch of his dick was driven deep inside her and she adored the sensation. Rockets went off inside her head and she was outside herself. Taja was now another person, another woman who had no fears, no inhibitions. She needed to get fucked and she wasn’t afraid to ask for it all night long. He grabbed her hips; she rubbed her clit. He was moaning, she was groaning. She came without him missing a beat and he kept fucking her through her orgasm. Sweat formed on both of them and they grunted and groaned like wild animals. They fucked into the night until Taja passed out from pleasure and exhaustion.

The morning came and sunlight filtered through the blinds. Taja awoke, her arms and legs and ass were sore. The smells of eggs and coffee were coming up the stairs. Phillip entered the room and held out her robe. “Breakfast is ready.”

She stood on shaky feet, still weak from the incredible fuck she had gotten and the restraint her body had endured. “We need to talk . . ." Her words were cut off with the familiar finger that has silenced her the night before.

Phillip had no words to explain his behavior or his actions. He, too, had been struggling with his perceived role as doormat versus being a “man” and he had devised this plan to show his wife who was the boss. While he had done it for her he had come to some personal revelations of his own. If being the boss meant that he had to be someone that was unnatural to him, he wanted no parts of that. He stood his ground as he waited for her verbal assault, quite sure she was going to go back to full bitch mode.

Never having had a previous occasion to be humble, Taja was rendered speechless. Her journey to self-discovery started with a paralyzing fear and ended with a frightening revelation. She let Phillip help her on with her robe. She rested her head on his shoulder and he put his arms around her. She’d lost a piece of herself and found it in losing control. There was no turning back, only relinquishing old beliefs in a strange twist of fate.

Copyright 2008 AfroerotiK