AfroerotiK is . . . . Alternative Intimacy

Great sex doesn’t always have to fit narrow definitions. True pleasure can be achieved when partners allow themselves to experience passion without prejudice, sensuality without censor. Journey with me as I open the bedroom door on an Afrocentric couple who has chosen to shed the rules and regulations of classic conservatism and who has chosen to expand their boundaries and explore all that life has to offer.

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AfroerotiK is . . .Redefining Black Manhood

AfroerotiK is . . . is a show that examines black sexuality and that provides insight and alternatives to individuals seeking healthy erotic expression. It highlights the beauty and sensuality of African Americans without being vulgar and stereotypical and it provides a fresh perspective from which to examine the issues that shape the perceptions of Black sexuality. It’s a show for everyone that will challenge myths, destroy clichés, and set the foundation for intense erotic exploration. AfroerotiK is features debates, discussions, interviews, and steamy erotic readings to stimulate and arouse.

This month, we are exploring REDEFINING BLACK MANHOOD. It’s a hard-hitting, no holds barred discussion that sheds light on a much-maligned topic. It’s essential listening for women who feel like they can’t find a good man and men who are tired of being narrowly defined. It’s for anyone open to conversation about shifting the behaviors that are keeping black relationships in danger.

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AfroerotiK is . . . Remote Possibilities

Don’t limit yourself, explore the AfroerotiK realm, and indulge in a steamy erotic tale that explores passion without judgments. It takes a while to download so your patience is appreciated.

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AfroerotiK is . . . Uninhibited

The foundation of every strong relationship is honesty, sharing, caring, and a willingness to be your most vulnerable self with your partner. It’s not having secrets and it’s all about understanding that there is no score card to calculate who’s ahead, no place for selfish desires. Intimacy is fostered by letting down all your defenses, all your walls, and being authentic. Join with me in this journey of sensual AfroerotiK passion when a young lady shares her tales of bliss when her lover has to fulfill her every desire after losing a bet. It blurs the lines of reality and begs the question of exactly who is the winner and who is the loser in a game of sensual seduction?

It takes a while to download and your patience is appreciated

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AfroerotiK is . . . Intense Heat

When ladies make love, they create intense heat. The pleasures that only another woman can give are the secret fantasies and the unspoken dreams of many. But what happens when you give into that lust, that burning desire to drink from the source of all life? What happens when you cross racial boundaries and that lady love is a different background, from a different race? Can lust between ladies both black and white exist without all the stereotypes and influences of a racist society? Take a listen to the latest AfroerotiK Podcast to hear an erotic story that explores interracial lesbian passion.

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AfroerotiK is . . . African Centered Sexuality

If one were to form an opinion about Black sexuality based upon what the adult industry force feeds us, we would be nothing more than big black bucks whose sole purpose in life was to fuck white women or welfare mamas who take delight in bending over to show off our big asses. Miraculously, we exist in far many more dimensions than how mainstream society depicts us. There are those of us who have taken on other roles, who are willing to redefine our sexuality. This month, AfroerotiK is . . . the Podcast for the exploration of Afrocentric sexuality, is discussing domination of white male submissives in a story that will destroy the stereotypes and embrace our identity beyond the norm. Won’t you listen to this story, Goddess Initiation, with an open mind and fresh perspective?



It takes a while to download and your patience is appreciated.

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AfroerotiK is . . . Playful

Tricks are NOT just for kids. Sometimes, when adults play, it’s not about competition, it’s about pure, unadulterated hedonism. Join me for the latest Podcast where we explore the art of seduction. Gentlemen, take notes on how your lady wants to be treated. Go the extra mile, spoil her. You certainly won’t be disappointed you put in all the effort. Ladies, don’t let too much time go by without treating your man to an extra special evening as well. Why not tell him that you want to re-enact this erotic Podcast while you listen to it, role-playing the action in real life as you listen to it together? If you don’t have a partner, take this opportunity to indulge yourself in a little self pleasure. Whatever way you decide to participate, enjoy yourself on this sensual audio erotik experience.



It takes a while to download and your patience is appreciated.

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Living with Purpose

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An Erotic Assignment for the Ladies

Ladies, here's an erotic assignment for you. Save this MP3 to your computer, ipod, burn it to a CD or whathaveyou and send a copy to your husband, boyfriend, lover, or secret crush. Add a little note that says, "Hey, I heard this and I thought of you. Let me know what you think of it."

Then, your assignment is to get back to me and tell me how he reacted. I want to know if it inspired you to have passionate and steamy sex all night long, if you were able to reignite the flame that had gone out, if he took off sick from work to come throw you down on the bed and act it out. I want to know all the juicy details. Let me know if he didn't react at all and we'll have to check his vitals for any signs of life. Good luck ladies, I hope you have fun.

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The Sensual Invitation

Black Erotica has finally evolved.

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God Doesn't Have a Dick

Any religion that teaches that God is a man, and that woman is made for man, oppresses women to a state of unnatural subservience and insanity. If God is a man, and man has a penis, then anyone with a penis is perceived to be god-like. Women, obviously without a penis, are socialized through their oppressive religion created by people with penises, to feel inferior. The subconscious mind of females knows that women are not really inferior, that God could not possibly have a gender, that women are the equal and very much needed compliments to men not their subjects. The conscious mind of the female believes itself to be inferior, to be cursed, and to be dependent upon men, so it sets up a state of disharmony in the psyche of both men and women. The belief that men have some inherent privilege or preferred status with God a.) leads men to think that they can do no wrong and that their penis entitles them to rule over women, and b.) leads women to think that their lives will fall apart without a man, that they must forgive their man any wrongdoing, and that they must compete with the next woman in order to prove their worth as a woman. It is only when we decide to restore a holistic balance to our relationships, based on equality of genders, will they heal.

Are Black men really more sexual?

I had a very typical conversation with a white woman a few minutes ago. She said that Black men are more sexual and more confident sexually than white men. If we are really about dismantling stereotypes, we need to set the record straight.


Black men may very well be better lovers, more skilled lovers, and they are, overall, better sexually endowed but white men are infinitely more sexual than Black men. White men are far more experimental, far more adventurous, far more liberated in their thinking when it comes to sex. And they are FAR more driven by their sexuality than black men.  White men compartmentalize their sexuality.  They are more likely to have hidden fetishes and sexually motivated lifestyles that are completely opposite their projected personas.  

 

For example, on XTube, the x-rated version of YouTube, people submit personal videos. There are different categories to submit your videos obviously including fetish, fisting, hardcore, bisexual, anal, etc. in both gay and straight genres. Here are my observations. White men are one million times more accepting of videos that show bizarre, outrageous, extreme, and atypical sex acts. I have never seen a black man submit a sounding video yet. In fact, I didn’t even know what sounding was until I started seeing it done on XTube. White men create videos of themselves doing all sorts of extreme things, using full rubber gas masks, fucking dirty sneakers, driving on the highway while naked and jerking off, tons of pissing videos, cock and ball torture, smoking is apparently sexual in some way as well, and I will never see another white man in the grocery store without wondering if he is one of the thousands who fucks himself with enormous black dildos. Of course, for every video posted, there are thousands more who would never post a video so we can only assume that the submitted videos are representative of desires of the macrocosm we call America.


The comments and feedback from other white men on these extreme videos is always pretty much supportive. “That was hot man,” or, “show more,” or the ever popular, “here’s my email address, let’s get together.” Sure, there are some that say, “that’s gross man,” but those sorts of comments are inevitably followed by a slew of “don’t pay attention to him man, that was hot,” comments.


Black men who submit videos submit two kinds, jerking off and regular oral/anal. There is no experimentation, there are not outrageous acts, and it’s pretty much cut and dry. On the rare occasion that a Black man does post a video that falls outside the vanilla category, the comments from other Black men are ready to crucify him. Black men aren’t tolerant of bare backing videos without multiple black men commenting on how someone is going to get AIDS, god forbid a Black man uses a dildo that is deemed too big by the black sexual police, they get all sorts of negative comments about how they are going to be ruined for life and have to wear diapers. Anything outside of basic masturbation or vanilla sex is labeled NASTY by Black men and they are very outspoken in their distaste.


The entire world doesn’t exist on XTube however. In swing clubs all over America, and I’ve been in my fair share, I’ve seen white men tend to be far more exhibitionist. They revel in being seen. Private rooms are usually occupied by Black couples. They want privacy and intimacy. On a daily basis, I get requests from men to look at their webcams. I have NO interest in seeing white men masturbate yet they INSIST on sending me multiple invitations even after being rejected. I can’t even tell you the last time I’ve gotten an unsolicited invitation from a black man to view his webcam. It happens so infrequently that it is almost negligible. There are websites dedicated to any manner of extreme sexual practices, fucking machines, bestiality, scat, creampies, military sex, skateboarders having sex, just anything you can think of. Of course, the biggest consumers of interracial porn, to the tune of 80%, are white men. The media portrays Black men as being sexual beasts and predators but serial rapists, pedophiles, and peeping toms are more than 95% white men. Those are sexual crimes and have little to do with sex but they do show that white men are getting a whitewashed image when it comes to sexuality and Black men are still being portrayed as sexual savages.


White women especially want to believe that Black men are more sexual because it fits their stereotype. Black men, desperate for undeserved praise, flock to white women who stereotype them as big Black bucks and play the role to appease their immature egos. Does that mean that Black men are more sexual? Not at all. We’ve discussed here before that white women are far more aroused by the concept of being treated like sluts, of doing all number of sexual things that black women won’t consider, but yet we are seen as being more sexual as well.


White men are phenomenally more sexual than black men. They are obsessed with it more, they tend to be more exhibitionist, they are more experimental, they are tolerant of activities that are not the norm, they are even more willing to admit their deviant behaviors and embrace them more than Black men. Black men are seen as more sexual because of racist beliefs but when it comes down to reality, Black men are by and large, very sexually conservative.

Let the meditations of my heart . . .

May the Creator add light and love to my thoughts so that they may become manifest

I desire the end of the reign of white supremacy that has oppressed people of color for thousands of years.

I desire a restoration of balance and harmony to the consciousness of the earth that is aligned with the universe, one verse, the Creator of All.

I desire the end of the fallacy of male supremacy and a restoration of equality of human beings not based on genitals but based on the symbiotic relationship between genders.

I desire those human beings who have perpetuated hatred, oppression, war, and evil for profit to receive just earthly punishments for their behavior while in human form.

I desire the end of religious beliefs that were created by man to control and dominate the masses and desire a more holistic, connected spiritual path based on truth to be ushered forth

I desire earthly restitution for the people of color who have suffered genocide, enslavement, and cultural annihilation at the hands of Caucasians.

I desire an energy of peace and love to envelop this earth plane and infuse our spirits with truth.

I desire the veil of illusion that has been placed over people of African descent to be lifted so that we might see exactly how debilitating assimilation into white culture is for our beings.

I desire self-love and confidence in my abilities 

I desire to release the negative self talk that haunts my subconscious mind

I invite unconditional love from my divine right partner, my twin flame into my life so that I might be able to give and receive human love abundantly while in this body SOON

I desire the opportunity to give birth to a child who will grow up to surpass my lofty expectations and goals for him or her

I desire to be a mother to children whom I can raise, love, and nurture with my husband to teach them the ways of a spiritual warrior and enlightened being.

I desire the ability to remain humble in the face of financial success and acclaim

I acknowledge that my words have power and I desire that they will go forth to the masses and be received in such a way that they will usher in transformations, education, and healing

I desire my book, In Loving Color, with photography by Aaron Brown, to become a phenomenal best seller and open doors to dialogue about Black sexuality that will free us from mental chains that keep us enslaved to debilitating mindsets

I desire AfroerotiK to be the foundation for an erotic revolution that will generate workshops, videos, magazines, CDs, conferences, healing centers, radio programs, and any and all multi media opportunities that will create more opportunities for Black people and relationships to heal.

I desire healing for my mother so that she can be released from her need to manipulate and control, so that she might see her own pathological behaviors and be able to release them easily.

I desire a life filled with learning, art, culture, good food, good friends, great music, and harmony.

I desire the reverence to respect the earth and the environment with every action I take

Romance vs. Seduction

In this day and age of instant gratification, people often confuse romance with seduction. Romance has to do with evoking feelings of emotional attraction; seduction involves getting a person into bed. Romance benefits both partners and can certainly lead to intense love making, while seduction, without emotion, only really fulfills the needs of the person doing the seducing. The seduced might be physically satisfied at the end of the evening, but if the seduction was based merely the pretense of emotion in order to manipulate a person into a sexual encounter, that satisfaction is purely superficial and very short lived. Men are often socialized to think that being romantic is a sign of weakness and that to be manly is to seduce as many women as possible. What many men fail to realize is that they are craving intense emotional connection in their live but trying to achieve it by jumping from bed to bed, hoping the sex will lead to the euphoric feelings of bliss.

In order to redefine romance and shift the perception of sexuality, we must as women, start learning how to ask for what we want, we have to redefine what it is in a man that is important vs. what we’ve been socialized to expect that may be detrimental to our relationships. Black men must start having discussions that start exploring how to redefine what manhood consists of and how best to have their emotional needs met while being better partners in their relationships.
1. How do you communicate to your lover if they don’t meet your needs without making your partner feel inadequate?

2. How open are you to exploring different fantasies with your partner or are you determined that there are certain roles that a man and woman have and there’s no room for deviating from those roles?

3. Where do you get your ideas for romance and seduction in your life?

4. How do you keep the romance alive in your relationship?

I AM my hair

If you ever watch that show "Yo Mama" on MTV, every show, they crack on someone for having nappy hair and everyone in the audience rolls with laughter. They aren't anything more than slaves on the plantation. Nothing's changed from 200 years ago. It certainly isn't debatable that any time you tell a child that there is something inherently wrong with them, they are going to compensate for that with low self-esteem. Women with straight hair think that because they think they are beautiful, because society tells them that they are beautiful with straight hair, that means that they don't have issues of self-hatred. If I offered women $50,000 to give up straightening their hair, I wouldn't get two women to take my offer. If I said, I'll buy you a house and you can live there mortgage free for the rest of your life, all you have to do is wear your hair in a natural style, women wouldn't do it. They are terrified of their natural hair, they hate it. They'd rather be in debt and wearing a weave than natural and financially secure.


The hair issue is unique to Black women because we are the only race of women who was kidnapped from our homeland and enslaved by a different race of people who used our color and our physical features to ridicule. Slavery in Africa wasn't based on race. It's impossible to denigrate someone for their nose, their lips, for their hair, if they have the exact same features as you do. White people used their diseased sense of superiority to tell enslaved Africans that everything about them was ugly. There is no other race of women who has had to endure such psychological torture.


Black hair care is a multi billion dollar business. I've always said that if white people wanted to effectively disable the black community, all they would have to do is stockpile all the relaxers, straightening combs, fake hair, etc. Within six weeks, Black women would be selling their souls and selling out the race for their straight hair fix.


Think about who we consider beautiful. Beyonce has a blonde weave. Every time I see her on a magazine cover, I say, "Who is that white woman?" We don't love our Black skin, we don't love our thick full lips, we don't love our wide noses, and we sure as hell don't love our natural nappy hair. That's fucked up we don’t' see ourselves as beautiful. Is there any wonder why the state of Black relationships is so poor? We have Black men trying to get women who look as white as possible and Black women denying that changing their hair to look white has anything to do with jumping through hoops to distance themselves from their natural blackness.


If Black women woke up tomorrow, and they all said, "No more chemicals," I love myself the way God intended me to be, white people would be terrified. They would be terrified that we don't aspire  to be look like them anymore. They would be terrified that we are defining our own standards of beauty. They would try to enslave us again, they would lose their fucking minds. They wouldn't be able to deal with an empowered people that didn't think the world revolved around them. They need to feel superior and they do as long as we are frying our natural hair, trying to mimic them. That gives them their power. If we were to stand up in mass and say, "I don't think long blonde hair and blue eyes are attractive, I think that big thick lips and wide noses and nappy hair is gorgeous white people would start a war against us. (Don't worry.  Black people can't even think like that we've been so brainwashed but it's a nice thought)


I've heard a many a brotha tell me that he refused to have his daughter get her hair cut. Little black girls don't have a chance if their mothers and grandmothers are telling us how nappy and unruly our natural hair is and our fathers (absentee most of the time) are telling us we are only lovable if we have long hair. Is there any wonder we are fucked up? (Damn, I just saw a commercial for the All Star Game and there was a shot of Beyonce and for a split second, I said, "Who is that white woman?") Black men HATE nappy hair more than Black women. That's why they go after the Latina, White, Asian woman. Those women will give them children with "good hair" and light skin. Let's not be naive. Black women have to have straight hair or they are afraid Black men will never look at them. Add to the fact that slavery told us to be submissive to our men and you have women terrified to show their blackness.


The fear of being seen as gay is sooooooo pervasive in Black women. They might not mind being seen as bisexual but they sure as hell don't want to be seen as masculine. And everyone knows that short hair means you are a butch, right? Once again, we are allowing other people to define us. I tell little children who ask me why I don't have any hair that there are a beautiful people in Kenya that all wear their hair like mine and that short hair is a sign of beauty. They look at me like I'm crazy and their mothers usually tell them that I'm gay when they think I can't hear.


I can’t support India Irie and that song. She’s got women with weaved-out, blond, straight hair running around saying, “I am not my hair.” You know what? I AM my hair. I am my naps. I am my African wooly hair. I am every African woman who was beaten and told that she had to cover her hair or lose her life. I AM every slave woman who loved her nappy hair and who had to see white women and mulatto slaves get preferential treatment for having straight hair. I will NEVER as long as I live let straight hair define my beauty.

You’s a punk mother fucking bitch

Yeah, you punk mother fucker, thinking you all that. 
You ain’t shit bitch, that’s right I called you a bitch. 
You talk shit all fucking day about how you all this and that and you ain't got shit to show for it ‘cept halitosis. 
You stand on the corner, grabbing your dick, but everybody know you ain’t packin. 
All that hot air you blow is just mental farts to compensate for the fact that you ain't jack. 
Whaaa, whaaaa, whaaa, you bitch and moan how everybody is trying to keep you down. 
You keeping yourself down by spending 18 hours a day fucking with XBox when you should be getting a job. 
You got babies over here and babies over der, not taking responsibility for any of em. 
And you cry how you are such a good black man and you can’t find a woman who will support you when you don’t do anything worth supporting. 
You’re lazy, dumb, broke and black, you ain’t good for nothing but a roll in the hay and sometimes not even that. 
You can’t eat pussy, you don’t last long, all you do is pump a few times to get yours and you’re gone. 
You smoke weed all day and you live in your mama’s basement.. 
You’re a loser bruh and it’s fact, you ain’t nothing but a punk ass little bitch mother fucker and there’s no doubt.

These are the lyrics to a new song I’m working on. It’s for all those men who defend offensive rap lyrics by saying that it’s not about ALL Black women. For all the men who don’t speak up about the offensive rap songs that degrade Black women, this goes out to you. It’s not about ALL Black men, just the ones that refuse to defend the honor of Black women by defending misogynist (c)rap. Put a beat to it and I got a platinum single right der. Now you know how it feels.

Defining Love

We can't be in loving relationships if we can't define love. Most people assume that if they enter into a relationship, they have to protect themselves, look out for themselves, stay in the relationship as long as it makes them happy. Most people proudly proclaim that they will never put the needs and wishes of their partner above their own because they don’t want to be used or taken advantage of. There's a huge difference between putting the needs and wishes of your partner above your own and being weak. In loving yourself, you are selective in waiting for the right person who matches you; you don't just find someone attractive who meets your superficial desires. In loving yourself, you work out your issues first and heal yourself from the patterns of dysfunction that have plagued your family for generations. 

In loving yourself, you don't tolerate abusive or destructive patterns from your partner. In a healthy relationship, you can go grocery shopping and by the brands that your partner loves most because you know that they prefer Colgate and you prefer Crest but you know that making your partner happy is more important than what toothpaste you use and your teeth will get just as clean. It shows your ability to be in a healthy relationship if you let your spouse eat the drumstick because you know that he or she likes it the most when you can just as easily eat the thigh. If you had a bad day at work but your spouse had an even worse day, in a mutually supportive relationship, you can hold off on complaining until they have processed their situation. If you’ve really given yourself to a commitment, if you want to buy that ATV or big screen TV really badly but you know that you and your partner are saving for a down payment on a house and you can defer your wants for the needs of the family first. It's because you love that person, LOVE, that you put aside the little i for the bigger picture of US. If you have chosen wisely, you will have chosen a partner who will do the same and more for you as well. Your happiness together is more important than your happiness as an individual. That's love.


You can't know love unless you give up yourself. That's the whole thing. That's the whole deal. Love is losing yourself in someone, becoming one, where you have no end and they have no beginning. If you love yourself more than your partner you don't have it right. True love is a big leap of faith. It's saying, I'm joining with this person and I'm going to erase me and become us. We are a two headed being, one heart, one goal, one objective. Love is being able to say in every choice, how will this benefit us? Society tells us that it's all about me first, that you can't give up yourself, that you have to stay in control, separate and autonomous. Society is producing tons of unhealthy relationships as well.

Who’s Your Daddy?

I had a guy friend once who had two small daughters. He would take his daughters to work with him, he would pick them up from school, they loved their daddy and it showed every time they would see him. I was mesmerized by their relationship because he took such pride in knowing that his daughters could count on him for anything they wanted or needed. If they were having problems with children at school, they knew that their daddy would be there to resolve the conflict. If a man said something inappropriate to them, they knew that they could run to their daddy and he would defend and protect them at all costs.

I’m 40 years old and I’ve never known what it’s like to have a daddy. I’ve never had a daddy, I have a father I met when I was 16. The only interaction I have with him is him giving me a check on my birthday and Christmas and sending a few emails a couple times a year. I’m no expert but I know that parenting has to go much further than that. I’m not real sure I know all the intricacies of what having a daddy involves but I’m sure that it’s more than giving $400 a year and an email that says, “Hey kiddo.”

I have to wonder how my life would be different if I’d known the safety and security of a father’s love in my life. I have to imagine that my choices in men would have been vastly different if I’d had a daddy to help shape my perceptions. They say you can’t miss what you never had but that’s bullshit, complete and utter bullshit. I’ve missed out on what it is to know that there is a man that loves me unconditionally. I’ve missed out on what it is to know that there is a man in the world whose primary responsibility is to protect me and provide for me. If I’d had a man to love me, I sure as hell wouldn’t have begged EB to love me and spent so many years of my life trying to convince him that I was worthy of love.

My father isn’t some ex-con deadbeat. He’s a genius whose worked at the same high paying job for over 40 years and who is a daddy to two other daughters other than me. When I was growing up, the concept of “daddy” was something that set my mother off on a rampage so I dare not even bring up the subject. Now I realize how detrimental that was to me.

All too many fathers only want to be a daddy to their sons. Daughters are expendable, disposable and only sons have value in far too many men’s eyes. I know my mother resented me for not being a tiny replica of her and I grew up trying to compensate for being a constant disappointment to her. It’s only now that I’m realizing that I have been compensating for feeling unlovable to the men in my life because I never knew a father’s love. We as women have to start coming to terms with the fact that we’ve been handicapped emotionally by never knowing a father’s love. Moreover, we need to start ensuring that our daughters know a father’s love. This whole, “I can raise my child by myself, I can be the mommy and the daddy,” is noble, but it’s fucked up. Men need to be daddies to their girl children. Maybe then, when we let go of the fucked up beliefs that are so prevalent, that so many people want to justify, then we can have a community of women who, when some undeserving man who wants to use and manipulate us for sex asks, “Who’s your daddy,” we can know with assuredness to whom we belong.

The Great White Hope

Ladies and Gentleman, let’s get ready to rumble. In the first corner, coming in at 225 years old and representing the blue collar high school dropout trying to prove that senior citizen white men can beat up youthful, athletic Black men is Rocky Balboa. In the opposite corner, representing the quintessential white man, blonde hair, blue eyes, savior to all darkies and messiah like hero, is Leonardo DeCaprio, proving that white men are in fact icons of perfection.

Hey Hollywood, could you be any more obvious? They are constantly trying to reinvent this notion of the Great White Hope. I have to wonder how many people would go to see Sylvester Stallone in a movie if he was fighting another white guy? How many white men from Idaho or Missouri or middle America are going to go see Rocky 6 (Don’t front, that’s what it really is) and cheer for him to beat that nigger? They sit at home and listen to Rush Limbaugh and all those neocon talk shows telling them how the white man is losing jobs to Blacks, how the white man is suffering reverse discrimination, they watch porno movies where white women are slobbering all over black dick like cheap tramps . . . and of course they want to see a barely literate thug beat up a Black guy.

Blood Diamonds is a movie with a very important message and it’s worth seeing if it wasn’t about how the white man saved the day. Why can’t a sista save the day? What would have been so tragic about casting a black person in the lead? It’s tiring to see so little creativity in the movies, so little diversity.

And the winner, by a knockout, and still champion, is Hillary Swank, in yet another god damn white teacher in the hood movie. According to Hollywood, the only people that are trying to do right by Black students are people who aren’t Black. Enough already! It’s tired, it’s lame, let it go. We don’t need white people to recognize our humanity and save us from ourselves. I gonna make a movie about a Black teacher who goes into a white school and saves the children from meth addiction, and plotting a Columbine massacre. That’s a box office smash I’m sure. Right.

Be careful who you idolize

Last year, during the Katrina horror, when Kanye West said that George Bush didn’t like Black people, the number of Black people who put him on a pedestal was off the charts. I stood as the lone person who refused to give him any accolades. First, it doesn’t take any genius to figure out that Bush doesn’t like Black people. He stated the obvious, big shit. Second, his popular Golddigger was out at the same time, reinforcing to all of America that poor black men are in fact niggers. In his Katrina benefit song, he called the people of New Orleans niggers. What the fuck sort of message is that sending to white people who you want to have compassion for those victims of racism? You get no props if you are promoting Black women as gold diggers and you get points taken away if you are using the N word in a song and urging white people to sing along at your concerts. Kanye West is far from a scholar or an activist, he’s not even remotely articulate and yet Black people lifted him up as some sort of new school voice of the oppressed hero. I got all sorts of grief when I challenged people to think seriously about whom they gave praises to and of course I was attacked and people defended him by saying, “He’s not calling ALL Black women golddiggers . . . The N word has changed, it means something positive now.” When you start making excuses for your make shift idols right off the bat, that’s a clear indication that they don’t have what it takes to be idols in the first damn place.

Now, we have Mr. West, saying in Essence magazine, that the only attractive women are mixed and he refers to biracial and light skinned women as mutts. Nice. While I’m sure he speaks for a great many Black men, and his sentiments reflect a reality that we don’t want to discuss, Mr. West, and his color struck fans are nothing more than little nigger slaves on the plantation, repeating what the massa told them to believe. Biracial people are not more attractive than dark skinned people. We have been SOCIALIZED to believe that biracial and light skinned people are more attractive because the slave master gave them the stamp of approval, declared them to have more value.

“Well, I can’t help what I’m attracted to and I’m attracted to light skinned women, it’s not my fault.” “You’re just jealous, you’re just hating because you aren’t light.” Those are the number one uninformed, ridiculous statements I hear from men in response to any discussion that stems from the glorification of light skinned women. You can’t help what features you are attracted to in a person but your preferences are shaped by the messages that you were given. Your grandmother told you how pretty that little light skin girl was, you saw how people ranted and raved over the little girl with “good hair,” you sat around with all the little boys in the neighbor hood and looked at pictures of porno mags with white women in them, it stands to reason that you would grow up and be attracted to women with white or damn near white features. Acknowledgment of that fact is the first step towards correcting your misperceptions. But do Black men really find dark skinned women attractive? No.

Black women are ugly. Wide noses are ugly, big lips are ugly, dark skin is ugly. Isn’t that what massa told us? Did African men see African women as ugly prior to our enslavement? No, of course not. It’s only after we were told by the slave master that mulattos and octoroons were the prettiest that we started to believe that. It’s then that we hated the features that made us beautiful. Kanye West and all those who think like him, and there are many, are convinced that light skinned women are the most attractive women and there’s nothing anyone can say to convince them otherwise because they believe that Black is ugly. They run off to Brazil to find the perfect mixed mutt, they use women like toys who are dark because they wouldn’t be seen in public with them.
And Black women are falling right in line with these dysfunctional men. Light skinned women believe that they have more value because they are light. They voluntarily identify themselves as redboned and yellow, as if that’s a benefit. Dark skinned women try to compensate for not being light by proving how sexual they are, how big their asses are, how willing they are to accept any ole trifiling behavior Black men dish out in an effort to show how supportive Black women can be. We raise our daughters to believe the diseased mindsets of the slave. Ninety seven percent of all media shows Black men with lighter skinned women. And then we act shocked when Mr. West calls light skinned women mutts and wonder how he could have said something so crass.

What Mr. West has done is articulate his self hatred. He hates women with features like his own. Until we can rid ourselves of this diseased perspective as a people, until we can recognize how detrimental it is to continue with the beliefs of the slave master, we will be forever enslaved. Kanye West is not worthy to be praised, he’s not even worthy of celebrity. He’s a minstrel bucking and dancing for Mr. Charlie who happens to have a very public platform. Unfortunately what comes out of his mouth is ignorant. It’s a sad commentary on a society that lifts up the dysfunctional as some sort of spokesperson and everything that comes out of his mouth is diseased. Maybe one day, Black America will celebrate someone who actually has something intelligent to say out of his mouth.

Long Distance Love

You have to work really hard to maintain the delicate equilibrium of a long distance relationship in order to make it work. The time apart, the distance, the lack of stability can wear on anyone’s nerves. Even under the best of conditions, fragile long distance relationships can disintegrate, even if both parties want it to work. Chris Henderson and Michelle Givens seemed to be the exception to the rule.

They met quite by happenstance. Chris was in Atlanta on a business trip. While he was checking into the Hyatt, minding his own business, he noticed a woman carrying a rather large painting, trying to navigate the heavy glass revolving door of the lobby with the large canvas. He ran to her assistance, holding the side handicap door for her like a gentleman would do, his midwestern manners integrating well into his temporary southern residence.

As she passed, sparks of electricity singed his very soul, igniting a chemical reaction that could have caused an explosion. She maneuvered her heavenly body through the door, positioning the painting as a barrier between them. For a brief moment, they both froze, maintaining intense eye contact. Chris took in every detail. Her butterscotch colored skin was flawless and her naturally curly hair was pulled tightly on top of her head and exploded in a poof of curly q’s. Her full, sensual lips looked so inviting, her smoky eyes were captivating, and her fragrance smelled like a delicious blend of fruit and flowers. The stood eye to eye, taking in details of one another, held captive by an immovable force of attraction. As she eased her way past Chris, she whispered the words, “Thank you,” softly. Chris watched her lips part and he was captivated by the way her pink tongue seemed to sensually caress her ruby colored lips and sort of make love to her words.

“Whoooo was that? Do you know who that woman is? She’s breathtaking,” Chris asked the desk manager, staring back at the doors, watching the captivating woman delicately arranging paintings in the back of a plain white van.

“Oh, that’s Michelle Givens. She’s the director of the Apex Museum here in Atlanta. They lend us paintings for the lobby every February for Black History Month. I have her business card and a brochure here if you want to check it out.” Chris fingered the card, distracted as he watched her drive off. The manager added, “Yeah, she is pretty hot,” as the two men shared a moment of appreciation for her beauty.

Barely able to concentrate, Chris couldn’t wait to pay a visit to the Apex later that afternoon. He was trying not to look conspicuous as he browsed around, trying to run into her again.

“Did you see something you were interested in today,” Michelle queried as she approached him?

Chris turned to face her and was again overwhelmed with her professionalism, sophistication, and sheer beauty. He took the flirtation ball and ran with it. “Very much so. In fact, I was so overwhelmed by the beauty of what I saw today, I had to make it my business to come and let you know personally.” He reached for her hand, held it to his lips, and kissed it softly. Michelle was overwhelmed by his charm in that moment and the rest, as they say, is history.

The two became rather inseparable from that moment on, at least every time Chris was in town for business. They would dine together, go to various museums on the weekends; Chris would even attend all the events Michelle coordinated for the Apex. He was extremely proud of her and it became increasingly more difficult to return to Chicago after they would spend time together. Illinois became bland in comparison his time in Georgia and was losing its appeal the more Chris realized that Michelle was his soul mate.

It was their perfect, symbiotic relationship the fueled them. Neither of them had to compromise themselves or their identities to be with the other. Chris loved that Michelle was so unconditionally supportive of him and his endeavors. He felt like he could accomplish anything with Michelle by his side. She loved that she didn’t have to sacrifice her independence to conform to an identity outside of her comfort zone. They just fit well together.

It was sexually, however, where their compatibility went off the charts. Never before in his life had Chris met a woman who understood his desires and matched them so perfectly. Every fantasy, every fetish, every kink, Michelle mirrored in delicious desire. It was as if they were created from the same erotic mold.

The time spent apart was becoming more unbearable. After nine months of long distance love and what was sure to be a tumor forming from endless hours of talking on the cell phone every night, Chris was contemplating ways in which he could make the relationship more permanent. He fingered the ring box in his pocket nervously as he deboarded the plane. Michelle was there to meet him, looking as stunning as ever, and her eyes lit up when she saw her man struggling with his two carryon bags. He took her in his arms and held her close. It never failed that every time he saw her, he felt the same jolt of electricity in his body as the first time he laid eyes on her. She kissed him rather sensually and every man in business class that was behind him felt a stab of lustful envy.

Michelle seemed to be particularly excited to see Chris and she was anxious to get home. She let him take the wheel and she sat in the passenger seat and wasted no time lowering her mouth to Chris’ lap and removing his hard dick from his pants, sucking him while he was doing 70 miles per hour on I-75. He was trying to concentrate on driving safely but it was damn hard to do that with his incredibly sexy girlfriend giving him the best head of his life.

He pulled the car into her garage and he was practically undressing before the ignition was off. Michelle had other plans and left Chris in the carport to get his belongings as she rushed inside with a mischievous smile on her face. Chris unloaded his bags, brought them inside, hung up his coat, and made his way to the kitchen, being led by the aromas of a fabulous seafood meal that was simmering on the stove. He was opening pots and inhaling delectable smells when Michelle approached him from behind. “Welcome home,” she said. Chris felt so at home, so at peace, she was reminded of the important question he wanted to ask Michelle.

He turned around and was caught off guard as he took in the full image of his ladylove. She was wearing black latex thigh-high boots and a matching latex bra. Completing her outfit was a black strapon dildo sticking out from her body. He felt a lump in his throat and instinctively dropped to his knees. He wrapped his lips around the hard black dick and looked up at his lover. She placed her hands on the back of his head and guided him to suck it. Turned on, she started pumping her full hips, fucking his mouth as Chris struggled to free his raging hard dick from his pants, stroking it in time to the pumping his mouth was getting.

They were both too turned on to make it to the bedroom so Michelle signaled for Chris to stand up. She bent him over the kitchen counter and reached for a bottle of olive oil to pour on her strapon. There was something primal about fucking in the kitchen, with his pants around his ankles and his face pressed against the cold granite. Chris looked back at Michelle, pulled his asscheeks apart with both hands, and said, “What are you waiting for, girl, FUCK ME!”

Never one to disappoint, Michelle lined up the head of the Ebony strapon with his tight hole and pushed forward. She was slow but she was relentless, not stopping until every inch was buried deeply in Chris’ ass. He started grinding, squirming, and begging her to fuck him harder, deeper. They were grunting, groaning, moaning and fucking like animals. “Yeah, you like this hard dick in your hole, don’t you baby? You love me fucking you like you’re my little bitch. Michelle clearly knew all the right buttons to push for her man to turn him on.

“Fuck me harder!”

“Take it deeper!”

“Fuck!”

“Shit!”

There was no stopping the endless string of profanity and the intense heat that the sexy pair was giving off. Michelle was like a machine, pounding him with a steady rhythm, using his asshole for her pleasure. Chris was about to explode, in love with the sexy woman with whom he was so connected, literally and figuratively. He could smell her pussy, wet with excitement. He could feel her strapon deep inside him. They were both rushing to orgasm. Michelle was like a woman possessed and Chris was out of his mind. He was fucking her back and begging her to give it to him deeper. He stroked his dick; it was aching it was so badly. He shut his eyes tightly and reveled in the pleasure he was experiencing in every pore of his body as he felt the sensations overtake him.

Michelle kissed him softly and pulled him towards the bedroom for rounds two and three. They were sure to enjoy all sorts of sexy and loving encounters in the upcoming week. He scrambled to pull up his pants and check for the ring he would present to her later that evening, assured that he had found his perfect match and the end to his long distance love.

Copyright 2005 AfroerotiK

On the Day we Reunite

As the day gets closer to when we see each other, I’m filled with so many expectations of what it will be like. I need to be in your arms, to feel you next to me. All I can think about is you being inside me and knowing that you love me. The thought of making love to you is what’s keeping me going. I only hope that it can be all that I hope it will be.

I need it to be special when we make love, to let you know how special you are to me. I’m going to undress you slowly, kissing every inch of your beautiful brown skin as I do. I’m going to lay you down and undress for you. I want to show you how aroused I am thinking about tasting your sweet juices and making you cum with my mouth. I need you to lay back and enjoy while I lick you until you cum in my mouth. First, I’m going to be slow and gentle, teasing you with my lips and tongue, softly sucking your dick until you are moaning in my mouth and you are dripping with desire. I’m going to take it nice and slow until you explode in my mouth and cover me with your cum. Then, I’m going to take no prisoners. I’m going to lick you from the head of your dick to your asshole and back again, not missing a spot in between. I’m going to suck and lick your hard dick in my mouth until you are begging to fuck me.

Believe me, I’m going to take my time working your hard dick up in me. I want you to feel my hard nipples crushed against your chest as you fill your hands with my ass. I want to ride you hard and deep, making you feel every inch of my hot, wet walls. I want to hear you moan and scream out my name. I want to ride you hard and cum on your dick while you lay back and watch me pleasure myself. When you’re ready, I want you to flip me over and hit it from behind and stroke long and hard and deep and so I can feel every inch of your love for me.

It’s going to be one continuous orgasm for days on end. I want to feel your mouth on my pussy, licking me the way that drives me crazy. I want to explore our fantasies and make them reality. When I have to leave your side, I’ll have the memories of or glorious time together to sustain me, to keep me going until we can be together again. Know that I love you more than my words can say.

Copyright 2006 AfroerotiK

Time

Every time I taste your lips, I’m reminded of how intense every second is that I spend with you. My senses are aroused and I’m lost in your eyes. I can feel my nature rise and my juices begin to flow simply melting into your tender kiss. Every second is a gift in your presence and I want to unwrap them slowly, methodically and with tender loving care.


Fifteen minutes. All I need from you today is one quarter hour. Steal away on your lunch break and love me down intensely but for a few brief minutes. I need to be rejuvenated by your touch, your taste, and your sweet, sexy scent. Save the foreplay and romance for another day and give me that hot, sticky passion only you know how to give me.


Time is really an illusion, it doesn’t exist. Time is really man’s way of measuring the passage of events that occur; it is really just a figment of our imagination. What is real are my feelings for you. Reality is that feeling I have when I hold your body close and I don’t know where you end and I begin.


Timeless love, that is what we share. Weeks, months, or even years could go by and you’d still be connected to me. No amount of time will alter or diminish this chemistry, this magic. You touch will forever send shivers down my spine. I will forever long for kisses from you. Your caress will always ignite my flame. We will spend eternity as lovers.


Copyright 2004 AfroerotiK

And he will rule over you

The entire concept of men being entitled to rule over, objectify, to control women is flawed from the get go. This whole concept of men being granted some special god like power by virtue of their penis is the lie that started the fall of man, not some mythological woman eating an apple. A penis grants no one any greater importance, no superiority, no special powers, a penis is not a leadership wand to be waved over women to control them. Testosterone gives men more physical strength but that, in and of itself, is only one tiny thing on a list of gender traits that doesn't equate to superiority UNLESS you've been conditioned to think that force and aggression have more value than nurturing and intuition. Sadly, that's been the pervasive thought form for 1000s of years and it's created this imbalance that prevents us from healing. We can NEVER heal as a people if Black men think the world revolves around them and Black women feel as if their identity is enhanced if they have a man.

Let's take a look at a Creation story from traditional Africa BEFORE enslavement and Christianity. God, The All There Is, was not a man, God was a powerful force, no gender attributed to it, just spirit and energy. In this story, God created man and woman as brother and sister, equals. Now, think about it for a minute. Man and woman are equal, there is no curse on women, there is no sin, and women aren't inferior. Who would benefit from creating a situation in which men had dominion over women? God? I can't imagine the Creator of All, The Most High God being that insecure with his own manhood that he needed to create woman to own like a pet, to control. That's a really insecure God, don't you think? That sounds more like a characteristic of a person who is lacking confidence, who wants to assert themselves and control everything. Who does that sound like? God did not create us in his image. White man created God in his.

Left is not better than right. Hot is not better than cold. Up is not better than down, and man is not better than woman. Until we can get that basic concept in our heads and in our hearts, we can't even come to the table to discuss black relationships. Think about it. If we sit down at the table and one person assumes that they have more power, that their word is final, that they hold no obligation to compromise with the other person, that's not going to be a very healthy conversation, is it? I don't need to tell you why Black men's sense of masculinity is so fragile and so easily threatened. During slavery, Black manhood was stripped away from our men. Not just their ability to objectify women as they pleased but the ability to walk with dignity, to make choices and decisions on their own. Manhood was redefined for them and it came to mean how big your dick is and how many things you could possess, women being one of them. That's the mindset of most Black men today. If the TRUE definition of manhood was left on the shores of Africa, where men and women were compliments and not master and slave, then we can't even speak in a healthy language when we get to the table of reconciliation until we shed ourselves of our false beliefs.

If you take a look at the men who are the most outspoken and the most argumentative about Black relationships, they are the men that INSIST that women are at fault for everything. If only Black women would stop tolerating such bad behavior from men, if only Black women would carry themselves in a more feminine manner. It's Black women who try to emasculate them by not letting them be the head of the house and damn those Black women for asking for money. That's nothing more than articulation of a belief that women are supposed to serve the needs of the Black man without considering that they have needs of their own. The head of anything needs to demonstrate leadership. A penis alone isn't a evidence of leadership so if the head of the household is only appointed as such because he has a Y chromosome, that is a doomed relationship. If that household can't take the strengths of both partners and compliment the weaknesses of both partners, regardless of gender, then you are fucked.

I don’t want to overwhelm you with concepts that you can’t digest so I’ll hold off until later to discuss how Black women suffer from a belief in man as superior and how it disables the conversation at the table of reconciliation.

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

The Sexy Christmas Present

Things had been strained lately between Derrick and Tynesha; they’d been arguing about small little things but it was wearing on both of their nerves. Derrick was going to go all out to make this Christmas special. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t made mistakes in the past, been untruthful, let her down. This year, Derrick had planned a special present that would show his devotion and love and cement his relationship to Tynesha. Derrick had purchased a customized erotic story from AfroerotiK for Tynesha that was intended to make her feel special and to let her know exactly how much he appreciated her for all that she had put up with, to be a symbol of how far they had come as a couple.

The story arrived in a priority envelope and Derrick hesitated as to what to do with it. He held it in his hands, studying it, reading it in private, waiting for the perfect time to present it to his beloved. He was bursting with anticipation, wanting to give the present to her but he knew that this would be a present that she would never forget, so he planned, he waited, he prepared for a night like none other. It was going to be a night so erotic, so sensuous, and so charged with electricity that he was convinced it would take their relationship to a higher plane, move them to a new level of communication.

Armed with the security of having the gift safely in his hands, having read it and seen the potential for the story to open doors of exploration, Derrick approached Tynesha with the special red envelope that held the story. He taunted her with it, telling her that her present was within her grasp but she had to wait. Tynesha wanted to open it immediately but she could see the look on Derrick’s face that let her know that she should trust him completely. All week long at work, Derrick was distracted with thoughts of the weekend to come. How would she react? He wondered if Tynesha would be willing to take a leap and explore her sensuality in new ways. He was nervous and aroused at the same time. There were several times he would find himself thinking about the hot and steamy sex that he was going to have with his beautiful lady and he would have to hide his erection from his coworkers. All he wanted was for
Tynesha to let down her guard and express herself the way she wanted; to give herself up to complete erotic abandon. He thought about how Tynesha would tell all her friends and coworkers about the personalized story she had gotten and the hours upon hours of erotic bliss that she’d experienced and how he would be forgiven, lifted even, to status of a hero for his special and unique gift.
Christmas eve arrived; it was do or die for Derrick. He made arrangements to get home early from work and set the stage for what he hoped was a very special evening. He ordered Tynesha’s very favorite take-out rather than try to make an attempt to cook and have an opportunity for things to go wrong. He had gone to Victoria Secrets to find something sexy for Tynesha to wear that would compliment her fine hips, thighs, and ass that he loved so much.

The anticipation was killing him. By the time Tynesha walked through the door on Saturday night, she knew she was in for a special treat. All the frustration she had with their petty arguments immediately disappeared as she realized that her man had done for her what other women only dream of having their men do for them. There were candles lit and the table was set. She could see the red package sitting neatly on the plate where she was to be seated but Derrick had other plans in mind. He poured her a glass of wine and they sat quietly on the sofa while he took her shoes off and massaged her feet. Tynesha let the wine warm her up a little bit and she made a silent vow to herself to let go of all her inhibitions and just enjoy whatever was to come.

Desperate with anticipation, Tynesha wanted to open her present. He gave her the first of the two presents, the lingerie, and told her to make herself comfortable. She emerged from the bathroom, looking like an erotic goddess, and Derrick almost forgot his entire game plan. He made her wait until after the food was served to open her very special gift. They ate and laughed without a care like when they had first met. It was almost as if they had been transported back to a time when they were carefree and passion was the only thing on their minds.

After dinner, a tiny bit tipsy from the wine, Derrick presented Tynesha with her very special gift. She opened the small book carefully and studied it, wanting to understand exactly what was happening, exactly what was going on. She read the words on the page slowly and looked around, sort of confused at what she was reading but more and more curious with every word. Derrick had apparently ordered a customized erotic story for her, but it was so lifelike it was eerie. The story before her described her relationship with Derrick and a really sexy and steaming description of how she seduced him, something she normally wouldn’t do. She read on, the words on the page going into greater detail about how Derrick wanted her to take the initiative with sex and get really wild in bed. It was more than apparent that Derrick was sexually aroused by his girlfriend and she was seeing his most intense sexual fantasies about her in black and white.

The more she read, the wetter she became. She started to squirm in the chair reading about this couple that was having an intensely erotic experience . . . but she was reading about herself. She glanced up at Derrick and his expression spoke volumes. He couldn’t wait for her to finish reading so he could make love right the on the table if need be. The more explicit the story got, the more her breathing became a task. She slid her fingers between her legs and massaged her clit a little. Derrick wanted to watch as she touched herself so he moved around to kneel in front of her and spread her legs.

 

“Read it out loud to me,” he instructed.

Tynesha’s voice cracked as she began reading the words on the pages in front of her. It was difficult to stay focused because Derrick had spread her thighs and started licking her wet pussy. She couldn’t concentrate on the story with that hot, wet tongue licking her and getting her more aroused. She pushed his face away and he moaned in desperation to taste her more. Tynesha took her finger, pushed it deep inside herself, and brought her lips to her mouth. She looked Derrick in the eye as she began to seductively lick the juices from her finger like she was sucking a dick.

Derrick had no more control and he unzipped his pants and started stroking his hard dick right there in front of her. Intoxicated with lust, Tynesha handed the individualized book to Derrick and said, “Here, now it’s time you read to me.”

Derrick took Tynesha by the hand and said, “Let’s finish reading this in the bedroom.”

As they made their way to the bedroom, the tension was building. He slowly undressed in front of her, revealing the body that had given her so much intense pleasure in the past, which was surely going to satisfy her every desire tonight. Naked and aroused, he lay back on the bed with the red book in his hand. He began reading the words on the page that described Tynesha giving him the most incredible head in the world. Tynesha, taking her cue, climbed on the bed and began mimicking the words she heard Derrick read.

Derrick couldn’t take the pleasure he was getting from Tynesha’s soft, wet lips so he tossed the book to the side to be finished at a later date and time. Right now, he wanted to get into the sensual sensations he was getting for the sexy woman that was licking, sucking, and swallowing his hard dick. 

Tynesha was like a woman possessed. She was giving him head better than she had ever done before; turned on by how special her man had made her feel. He knew she loved Zane’s stories but her own personal story was 1000 times better than reading a story about someone else. She wanted Derrick to feel as special as he had made her feel and she was proving it with her oral skills.

“No, wait baby, slow down. That feels too good,” he said, not wanting the celebration to be over before it started. Derrick wanted to get back to tasting that sticky sweetness he loved so much.

He laid his beloved Tynesha back on the bed and spread her sexy thighs. She was actually moaning in anticipation of feeling his soft wet mouth suck her aroused pussy. Derrick took two fingers and pushed them inside Tynesha and she moaned out as his lips encircled her clit. He was using his tongue to drive her crazy: licking, sucking, and tonguing her to tremendous pleasure.

Feeling bold, Tynesha pushed his head away, got up on her knees, and presented Derrick with the most perfect ass he had ever seen. She teased him, wiggling it in his face and taunting him to eat her out from behind. She spread the lips to her pussy with her fingers and told him in no uncertain terms, “Make me cum in your mouth.”

Tynesha was overcome with lust. She put her face down on the bed and let herself go to the pleasure. Derrick wrapped his lips around her clit, began smacking her ass and fingering her pussy at the same time. She was moaning and talking dirty, telling Derrick to not stop, of how good he was making her pussy feel.

Just as she was about to reach her special moment, Derrick stopped. He wanted to tease her just a bit. Take her to that place right before orgasm and then make her wait. However, Tynesha couldn’t be denied any more. She took matters into her own hands and made Derrick lay back on the bed. She climbed on top of him and held his dick at the entrance to her pussy. He could feel the heat from her body and her lips were soaked with her juices.

She looked him dead in his eye and said, “I’m going to use your dick to pleasure myself. I’m going to use it like a dildo to make myself cum tonight and all you can do is lie there and enjoy the ride.” Derrick’s eyes rolled back in his head. He’d waited for a long time to see his woman take control of her pleasure, to know that he aroused her so much that she just wanted to use him for her enjoyment.
He felt the head of his dick penetrate her and it was more intense than he had ever felt before. For some odd reason, this time, it felt like she was wetter, tighter, and hotter than she had ever been. Tynesha rocked back and forth; making his dick hit places in her that drove her to insane heights of pleasure. She began whispering in his ear as she was riding to orgasm.

“From here on out, things are going to be a little different. I want to show you exactly how much you turn me on so we are going to step things up a notch.” Derrick grabbed her breast and put it in his mouth, as she described all the naught fantasies that she wanted to fulfill with him. They were both moaning loudly, grunting and groaning from the intense pleasure. Tynesha could feel her orgasm about to hit her. It was coming fast as she began bouncing up and down on Derrick’s dick and using it to get herself off.

Dre had to concentrate on not losing it as he felt Tynesha’s juices cover him. She was cumming all over him, convulsing with pleasure. As much as he wanted her to feel enjoy her orgasm, he wanted to fuck the shit out of her, to make her feel him pounding her, thrusting himself inside her.

Still not finished with her first orgasm, Derrick flipped Tynesha over and put her on her back. He stared deep in her eyes and held her legs up in the air as he was about to penetrate her. “Do you forgive me,” he asked?

She mouthed the words, “fuck me,” to let him know that he had done a good thing and she wasn’t mad any more. Derrick shoved his dick deep inside Tynesha and began pumping with a steady rhythm. Tynesha wrapped her legs around Derrick, pulling him closer and closer, deeper and deeper. He could feel his nut about to explode and Derrick closed his eyes and surrendered to the feeling of pleasure

They drifted off to sleep together but the weekend was far from over. For the next two days, Tynesha and Derrick made use of every minute of the weekend until they were drained and exhausted. It was a memorable gift that set the stage for some intense lovemaking. Derrick could hardly wait for the Valentine’s story to arrive.

Copyright 2005 AfroerotiK



My erotic stories are healing, transformative, and arousing. If you appreciate what I’ve done, if you enjoy my stories, if you are interested in reading my very best erotic work that hasn’t been seen by the public before, if you want to help me move to the next level, won’t you please consider writing an e-mail that shows your support.


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Experience Making Love to Me

Feel my lips gently nibbling on your earlobe, My breath as I whisper in your ear, I want you. Smell the scent of my perfume as it lingers on my skin. Taste my mouth as we kiss. Feel the softness of my lips, my yielding tongue.

Experience my soft, gentle kisses on your neck, your shoulders, and your chest. Relax and enjoy as I kiss your arms, inside your elbows, the palms of your hands. Maintain eye contact with me as I suck each and every one of your fingers.

Relinquish control as I massage your back. Feel the cool sensation as I leave wet kisses on your spine. Feel my breasts crushed against your back as I try to press every inch of our bodies together. Breathe deeply; inhale the aroma of the candles, the oil I use to massage you, my arousal as my passion builds for you. Turn over and face me. Tingle with anticipation as my hands move slowly back up the fronts of your legs, your thighs.

Ache with need as my mouth kisses and licks your torso, carefully avoiding your erection with the exception of my hot breath. Describe the sensation to me as I lick and gently suck your balls. Tell me how it feels as I lick the head of your dick and make it glisten. Watch me as I swallow you, licking you, sucking you, stroking you, blowing your mind. Scream out my name as I bring you to the verge of orgasm and stop. Feel the head of your dick, deep in the back of my throat while my wet, hot lips, tongue, and mouth envelop you entirely.

Experience the need to have me, be inside of me, to fuck me. Look at me. Notice every detail of my body: my bedroom eyes, my full lips, my tiny ears, my small shoulders, my long arms and fingers, the swell of my breasts slowly rising and falling, the contrast of my nipples, my small waist and full hips, my smooth, long, brown legs and tiny ankles, the high arch of my foot and my perfectly pedicured toes.

Make me need you. Press your body onto mine, laying your weight upon me. Whisper all the naughty things you want to do. Kiss me passionately; long, hard and wet. Let me know that you want me, all of me, and only me. Feel my passion for you build as you fondle and caress my breasts, pinching my nipples, cupping them in your hands.

Watch my excitement build as you lower you mouth to my breasts nursing them like a baby, sucking them like a man hungry with desire. Lick them all over, use your tongue like a sensual paintbrush.

Feel the heat from between my legs, spread them. Examine that part of me that makes me a woman. Notice how aroused I become at even the most gentle stimulation. Touch me softly and watch me writhe in pleasure. Spread my lips apart, feeling my wetness flow. Smell my sex, natural and sweet. Invade me with your fingers. Manipulate that vacant and slippery space with skill. Make me give you my surrender. Invade me with your tongue. Taste me, eat me, lick me, suck me.

And then calmly reassure me of your love. Look deeply into my eyes and let me know that everything will be fine, that you will take care of me, that I dont need to be afraid. And with the hunger of a starving man, the thrill of the first time…………penetrate me. Close your eyes and feel our bodies become one. Experience my gift to you.

Make love to me. Slow, steady. hard, deep. Drive your dick up inside me over and over again. Make me scream with pleasure and ecstasy divine. Fuck me until our bodies are glistening with sweat. Feel my pussy grab you and pull you deep inside of me. Tell me how tight and wet and hot I am and how good my pussy makes you feel. Faster …Deeper. Experience the addiction of pleasure over take your body. And then my dear, sweet lover, fill me with your seed, that which makes me whole. Dont move, dont move, DONT MOVE. Just enjoy the experience of making love to me.


Copyright 2004 AfroerotiK

AfroerotiK is . . . Playful

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