The Making of a White Sissy Slut

When he replied to my ad online, Steven said he was an attractive, 30-something, successful white man who was willing to explore the wild side. When we met in person, I was more than a little bit disappointed. Attractive was a stretch of the imagination and I told him so right off the bat. He acted as if I’d said something to offend him and responded by saying, “Well, no one’s ever told me that I was unattractive.” When I suggested that was because no one had had the occasion to be brutally honest with him, he got visibly pissed off and blurted out, “Well, my mom thinks . . .” and caught himself before he said something that made him look like a total, pathetic loser.

Truth be told, Steven wasn’t gruesome; he was merely average. Average for a white boy unfortunately is just shy of ugly. Thin lips, pasty skin, thinning hair, non-descript features, he was nothing to write home about. I had plans to change that. The ad to which he replied was a proposition to completely transform a white boy into a sexy, desirable, cross-dressing, sissy, and insatiable, cum-crazed whore for black cock. I didn’t pull any punches and he knew what he was in for so there was no reason to play games. I didn’t have much to work with from the beginning but at least he wasn’t fat and out of shape. I’d had less to work with in the past so he wasn’t my greatest challenge.

I took him back to my loft and told him to strip. He’d lied in his response by saying that his cock was just a little over 6 inches. I made him stand in the center of the room, completely naked, and I sensually stroked his cock for less than a minute until he was whimpering and biting his lip, trying to keep from cumming. I took out my ruler and placed it at the base of his cock and told him to tell me EXACTLY how much his worthless, pathetic cock actually measured. He mumbled something incoherent.

“Listen you little worm. I said TELL ME HOW MUCH YOUR LITTLE CLITTY REALLY MEASURES.” His face became reddened and he looked angry and broken at the same time. I continued to stroke his cock and I could tell that he was on the verge of shooting his load. Tears were forming in his eyes.

“Five,” he whispered, almost inaudibly, choking back the tears.

It wasn’t even a full five inches but I’d accomplished my mission. He was humiliated. “You can’t expect to please a woman with that. That’s pathetic. You have no choice, you have to be transformed into a cross-dressing, sissy whore so you’ll never have to annoy women with your worthless attempt at fucking again. I’m going to make sure your pussy is your only source of sexual satisfaction. I’m going to turn you into a woman, the way you walk, the way you talk, the way you move, the very way you think is going to be that of a woman. You will be a lady in the streets and a filthy, nasty, cum dump in the sheets. Your pussy will throb and get so horny you will actually think it’s getting wet and you will be desperate to get fucked by the biggest, blackest, hardest pricks you can find. He moaned out loud as his cum dribbled from his cock, barely enough to be considered a spurt, let alone a blast.

Over the next three months, I trained him. I caged his cock in a chastity device and he was denied the right to cum. I had his body waxed and he was as smooth as silk. Lessons consisted of teaching him how to walk like a woman, how to hold his hands, and how to cross his legs and be sophisticated in public. I also trained him in ways to drive a man crazy by spreading his legs wide and begging for hard dick in his slutty cunt in private.

He was a very good student. I could see the changes taking place before my very eyes. When he did well, I would reward him by strapping on a 10 inch black dildo and fucking him while he looked at pictures of gorgeous Black men with enormous cocks and he told me out loud how much he lived to worship them. For punishment, when he would do something wrong, or simply for my amusement, I would wrap my hands around his neck and choke him, telling him that I was going to make him suck off a white man if he didn’t learn to behave. Cutting off his air supply, I would tell him that white men were arrogant, repulsive, ignorant assholes and that if he didn’t do as I told him, I was going to make him put their nasty, pitiful small cocks in his mouth until they came and that he would never earn the right to suck off a Black man’s gorgeous, manly cock. Just as he was about to pass out, I would release my grip and he would cry like a baby hysterically on the floor, begging me never to make him do something so disgusting, confessing that he hated white men and never wanted to touch them or be touched by them.

At four months, he was passable enough that we could go out shopping together as girls, and he was already turning heads of men and didn’t even realize it. Even in his regular clothes, he was becoming feminine; he spoke with a gentle demeanor, and showed none of the signs of arrogance of when we first met. He was an expert at applying his makeup and the expensive wigs we purchased for him looked 100% real. He learned quickly to point out cheap and trashy cross dressers and their lame attempts to get off by shocking unsuspecting sales clerks in lingerie stores. We shopped in expensive boutiques and he had quite a collection of heels, stockings, lingerie, and dresses.

Orgasm denial was taking a toll on him because it was month five when he began to beg for release, to practice his newly learned deep-throating skills on a real cock. He endured the discomfort of saline injections to increase his bust size and he marveled at the way his new, full tits looked in his lacy bras, bustiers, and corsets. He especially loved when I would apply nipple clamps and twist and pull his nipples while calling him a filthy white whore. Previously a work-a-holic, wearing men’s clothing felt unnatural to him and now he would find excuses to work from home or leave work early so he could get home and put on his satin and silk and feel like his true self. He would beg me to let him eat my pussy, but I told him he wasn’t allowed because he could only have superior black cocks in his mouth. Steven the male was no longer; he was a distant memory. Stacy was born anew, a woman in every sense of the word.

I planned Stacy’s coming out party for exactly six months from the day we met. I had to admit, she was gorgeous. Even I didn’t think she was capable of such an extreme makeover. That average looking white boy I met so long ago was now a stunning, beautiful white woman whose smoky seductive eyes could captivate, whose collagen-enriched, full lips were inviting to the hardest of cocks, and whose hips swayed sensually when she gracefully walked in her expensive stilettos. There wasn’t a detail I left to chance. Her hands were perfectly manicured, not with garish fake claws but with an elegant clear polish. She wore a simple diamond band on the ring finger of her left hand, not as a symbol of our marriage, but as a symbol of her devotion to me for allowing her to become the cum hungry whore who dwelt inside her.

I’d invited four of the most hung Black men I knew to her party. They’d been to a couple of my events before and they knew the deal. They were to treat the slut as harsh and as rough as they could as long as she didn’t utter her safe word. I’d kept the party attendees a secret, Stacy didn’t know how many or who, she just knew that her asspussy was going to be truly satisfied for the first time in her life.

Stacy sat at her dressing table, applying the last little bit of her makeup, her hands shaking. She looked at me through the mirror and said softly, “Thank you. I feel like I’ve been freed from a prison of lies and masquerading. It makes me sick to think of what I used to be. I know that I’m supposed to be a white bitch for black cocks now, I know that I was born to be a sissy slut.”

Tears were forming in her eyes and I stopped her. “Stop with the waterworks sweetie, you’ll ruin your makeup. Just go out there and make me proud.” She stood up and I made her turn around for me. She was breathtaking. I applied pressure to her shoulder and she bent forward for me without me having to ask. I pulled up the hem of her skirt and bared her pussy. I’d inserted a large, black butt plug in her earlier in the day and I pulled it out as it made a lewd and nasty plopping sound as Stacy moaned and wiggled her ass at the empty feeling. Her cunt was tight and ready. I wiped the excess lube away and finally handed her the key to the chastity device.

“Here, you do it for me, please. I can’t . . . I’m . . . You were right all along. My clitty is worthless and I should be ashamed I ever tried to use it . . .” I freed her from her restraints, stroked it softly, and her clit engorged to its full length immediately, harder, thicker, and longer than it’d ever been. I turned her towards the full-length mirror and pulled her skirt up in front of her. We both giggled at the obscene image of this strikingly beautiful woman with an oversized clit staring back at us. She pulled on a pair of sexy French-cut, lace panties and tucked her clit away as she took a deep breath and emerged for her debut as a dirty, white, pain-pig, tramp.

The reactions of everyone were just as I’d hoped. The fellas almost couldn’t believe that Stacy wasn’t a real woman. They kept looking at her and whispering to each other. Dante pulled me to the side and asked me if I wasn’t trying to play some sort of game on them because there was no way that could really be a dude. Stacy was disappointed and deservingly so. She wanted more than four men to use and abuse her body. She’d learned to take two oversized dildos in her asscunt at the same time. She could swallow 12 inches of dildo without gagging and I’d teased her for months about the prospect of having no less than 10 men fuck her to unconsciousness. She was the most gracious hostess however, refilling drink glasses, making sure everyone had something to eat, laughing and mingling and making everyone feel comfortable like only a real woman could do.

She teased the men, just like I’d taught her to do, bending over and showing off her ass. Her tits were spilling out of her sexy top and she made sure to rub crotches whenever she could.

Everyone was waiting for my signal for the real party to begin. “Gentlemen, I want to thank you so much for coming here tonight. Stacy is my greatest accomplishment to date. Spank her, fist fuck her, make her suck your filthy cocks after you fuck her, degrade her in whatever extreme, base, perverted, disgusting way you can think of. ANYTHING you can think of, she’ll do it and I promise she’ll only beg for more. Without further ado, let the games begin.”

The guys started moving furniture around, making space in the living room for the serious play to begin. Stacy did a sexy and sensual striptease, more exotic and alluring than any professional could do. I saw a look of panic in her eyes when it came time to take off her panties. It was in that moment that he was ashamed of her cock. She wanted to have a real pussy, a real clit. I looked at her and nodded slightly and told her with my eyes that it was okay for her to be who she was. She sensed my reassurance and boldly stepped out of her panties and got on her knees and waited for whatever sweet torture could be inflicted upon her.

Dante and Rodney pulled out their dicks first and Stacy dove for them, feeling the smooth, taut skin of their hardening cocks fill her mouth, tasting their sweet precum. She jerked off one as she sucked the other and went back and forth, deep throating them and getting them wet with spit. Rodney grabbed her face and forced her mouth open and spit in it and shoved his dick balls deep in her throat. He grabbed the back of her head and fucked her face. Dante pulled her sexy nipples which only made her hum and moan on the cock in her mouth. Eric wanted in on the action and he pulled off all his clothes and said, “Let me have some of that.”

Always willing to share, the first two backed off and let the other two have at it. Eric turned around and said, “Come on bitch, nothing more that I like than a white woman’s tongue in my dirty asshole. Lick it clean.” I had no idea how dirty his asshole was in order for it to be licked clean but it was apparent that Stacy loved the smells and tastes of whatever his asscrack had to offer. She drove her tongue in deep and sucked his asshole. I could hear her say, “Mmmm, it tastes so good,” before her face was surrounded by Eric’s sex bubble butt and she went back to making a feast of his asshole.

Gerald was the last man standing and he wanted in on the action too. Come here bitch, I gotta piss and I want you to drink it all. Stacy whipped around and before she could confirm that she was ready, her mouth was full of cock. She had been trained well to hold completely still and wait for that piss and I could see her start to swallow repeatedly as Gerald moaned out, “Yeah, toilet whore, drink my rank, hot piss.” I could tell when he was finished because he started to fuck her throat savagely. “Yeah slut, take my black dick.”

Things went into overdrive from then on out. All four men had their hard cocks in her mouth in succession. Occasionally she would have two cocks in her mouth at the same time but that didn’t seem to faze her. While she was sucking one, she was stroking off two others. They were pinching her nipples, slapping her tits, taking turns shoving their hard cocks in her throat. Eric hadn’t planned on cumming in her mouth but she was sucking so hard, licking his balls and working the head of his dick with her throat that he couldn’t help himself. He blasted her mouth with his salty cum like a real man, pumping his hot jism in her mouth and adding his spit to the mix before she was made to swallow.

Stacy was in the zone. “Fuck me, somebody please fuck me.” She was pushed down to her knees and Rodney got in position first. He was still wet from the nasty blowjob and her pussy was leaking lube so he had no reason to go slow. He rammed his dick in her cunt balls deep. She let out a moan and lowered he head to the floor and kept her ass in the air so he could have full access to pound her tight pussy. He grabbed her hips and started pounding out a steady rhythm like an African drum. Each stroke, he would pull out to the head and ram every inch deep inside her. Gerald got in front of her and worked it out so that when he was balls deep in her mouth, Rodney was pulling out of her tight twat.

Dante was amused. “Man, white boys are fucked up. Look at this fucking faggot take all that dick and not miss a beat.”

Stacy looked up. “Yeah, that’s right, I’m a fucking faggot whiteboy that lives to be used by black men. Breed my sissy cunt, use me, degrade me for being a perverted white bitch, treat me like a piece of shit. Take out all your aggression and frustration on my pussy. Just fuck me. FUUUCK ME.”

And that’s exactly what they did. One by one, they fucked her like an animal without care for her pleasure or pain. Every time a cock was pulled from her freshly fucked shithole she sucked it clean. There wasn’t an occasion in over two hours that she didn’t have a cock in her mouth and her pussy at the same time. The guys held off on cumming until they couldn’t take it anymore. She worked her pussy and they gave her what she wanted. Her ass was red and sore from being spanked, her tits were bruised from being grabbed and squeezed. Her nuts were aching and in pain, desperate for release. The pain inspired her for more. The more they used her, the more ravenous she became. Gerald unloaded his nuts her mouth while Dante pumped a load deep in her colon. He grabbed a plate of Hors D'Oeuvres, dumped them on the floor, and made her squat over the plate and shit out his cum. Stacy pushed out his cum and took it a step further and licked his cum from the plate like a sexy kitten licking milk.

Eric had the most stamina because he’d already cum once so he lay on the floor and demanded that she ride his jet, black dick. She stood shakily on her high heels, her legs weakened by the savage fucking she’d endured for several hours. Still a lady in every sense of the word, and still beautiful even with her makeup smeared and her hair sweaty, she thought only of her lover’s pleasure first and turned away from him, facing his feet so that he wouldn’t have to be disgusted by looking at her obscene, aroused pink clitty. I intervened. I leaned in close to her and whispered in her ear. “You aren’t really a woman, you are a pathetic white boy who needed the pretense of being a woman to realize your nasty true nature. Don’t be afraid to show off your worthless cock now. You are a filthy, faggot, cocksucking cum-whore who now knows that you are only fit to please Black men. I destroyed you and recreated you to be what I wanted, a white sissy bitch. Own who you are, just like I own you.” Somehow, she understood that they were words of empowerment and she turned to face Gerald and lowered her asspussy on his erection.

She remembered everything I taught her. She worked her pussy and rode that hard shaft, squeezing it, milking it, and pumping her hips like an insatiable slut. Eric tried to fuck her so hard he tried to throw her off. She rode his cock like a cowboy rides a bucking bronco. The room reeked of sweaty man sex. She kept chanting, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,“ over and over again.

I could tell that Eric was close and I grabbed Stacy’s cock and stroked it no more than three times and she erupted, shooting hot cum in the air. It landed on Eric’s washboard abs and he was furious. “Bitch, look what you did! Lick that shit off of me you goddamn homo.” For the first time in the evening, Stacy was given a task she couldn’t do. She’d been reprogrammed to detest the cum of white men. In her head, she wasn’t a white man anymore; she’d truly become a sissy slut, a feminized bitch. There was something else however that made her repulsed by the thought of having to lick the cum of what she hated most, a white man. It was in that moment that she started to cry like a bitch, sobbing uncontrollably at the request that made her come face to face with her own self-hatred.

“Fuck me some more,” she demanded, “give me some more cum.” She got on her knees and pulled open her abused asscheeks to reveal her swollen and red rosebud. “Come on, fuck me. Pump your hot cum in me, Fuck me. I need more cum. I need more cocks. I had the guys get dressed and leave while I attended to Stacy, trying to calm her down until she fell asleep on the floor, fucked and exhausted.

It’s been a week since the party. Stacy has been calling me around the clock. I’ve had no choice but to ignore her calls because I’m on to my next project and this time, at least he’s reasonably attractive.

Copyright 2008 AfroerotiK

The touch of your hand awakens dreams deferred.

At first, the touch of your hand to my stomach arouses fear and panic in me. Not because I’m afraid you will use me for sex, I don’t believe you are capable of that. I have so many old, negative tapes going on in my head. I have so many dreams and aspirations that I’ve yet to realize playing in my mind.

The touch of your hand makes me feel afraid of being sexual with you because my sexuality has been stifled for so very long. I don’t feel confident in myself, in my ability to be sexual. I know how the mechanics of sex work. I recognize that it’s natural. It’s just that I’ve pushed men away for so long, I’ve relegated my sexuality to a computer screen and an occasional late night phone call for so long, I don’t know how to let you know that I want you, that I crave you. So, with your hand on my tummy, I freeze, unable to move, unable to tell you that the warmth of your hand on my body makes me feel alive, makes me feel like a woman.

I’ve fantasized about what it will be like the very next time I make love to a man. We will be in love with one another; we will be twin flames, reunited after lifetimes of refinement, only to connect in a passionate exchange of passion and intimacy. The touch of your hand reminds me of those dreams, of hearing my man say, “Scottie, I am so in love with you,” as he penetrates me for the very first time, knowing that we will never be with another person for the rest of our lives. The heat of your hand on my body reminds me of fantasies of tasting my man’s tears as he is deep inside me, knowing that I am his protector and shelter, that I am the place he runs to feel whole, to receive nourishment. Your fingertips stimulate my dormant imagination and remind me of fantasies of a lover who caters to my every need, who takes the time to please me knowing that my satisfaction will bring about his. Your hand becomes the hand of my fantasy lover, who bathes me every night, who anoints my body with lotions and oils, who licks me softly until I explode in his mouth and who slowly, gently, tenderly makes love to me each and every night until I’m begging and screaming for him to fuck me savagely. With your simple touch to my belly, you have ignited visions of my husband cumming inside me and creating life together with our love.

Instead, I freeze at the touch of your hand to my body. I don’t know how to express my fears to you, so I say nothing, a single tear falling from the corner of my eye I quickly brush away.

Am I not my sister’s keeper?

You see it all the time, every day in fact. Black women look for any opportunity they can to ridicule, belittle, and denigrate “those black women.” You’ve seen it, if a Black man finds a lame excuse to malign black women as gold-diggers, or bitches, or some other offensive and sexist slur, Black women will come out of the woodwork to jump on the bandwagon and throw some fuel on the fire. To hear them tell the tale, these upstanding and outraged women are always the best mothers, the most exceptional pillars of the community, beyond reproach with nothing but contempt for “those Black women.” They have nothing but venom for the underprivileged, disadvantaged, or God-forbid, women who’ve made a mistake. They are perfect and they make sure to stand atop their pedestal of condescension to point the finger of disgust at “those Black women.” They don’t have a problem with misogynist rap lyrics because it doesn’t refer to them; they are referring to “those Black women.” They are above any vile criticism of Black women in general because they are not one of “those Black women.” Their anthem? “I’m a strong Black woman.” They have no compassion, no empathy, nothing but judgment and hatred for “those Black women.”

Black men have no such pathology. In fact, they tip the scales on the opposite end of the spectrum. Black men can never find fault, flaw, or blemish with another Black man no matter how reprehensible their behavior. A Black man can have 23 children for whom he pays not one thin dime and you will find brothas lined up to excuse his behavior. In fact, Black men will find some reason to blame Black women for his excessive offspring, saying that if women didn’t spread their legs, he wouldn’t have so many children. RARELY do you hear a Black man saying, “I’m not one of those Black men.” There is a certainly solidarity in having a penis that dictates that Black men stick together to avert anything negative and turn it into the fault of the Black woman. When there is any constructive criticism given of Black men, the tendency is for Black men to assume that the criticism is directed to every Black man on the face of the planet and it becomes the responsibility of Black men to defend and deflect.

Both behaviors are unhealthy.

Any person that feels that he or she has to malign someone else is inherently insecure. There’s a huge difference between identifying the unhealthy behaviors of Black women while trying to bring about a certain amount of consciousness and healing and talking shit and badmouthing other Black women so as to appear superior/perfect. Hating (in the literal definition of the word, not the commonly used definition of simply criticizing someone) other black women for being victims of societal conditions shows no compassion and compassion is a sign of maturity. This whole, “I’m a strong Black woman,” archetype is delusional because it perpetuates this myth that Black women are these super sassy, indestructible forces that can raise children on their own, go to school, have a job, and maintain a relationship without blinking an eye. News Flash, Black women are suffering from depression, rage, dying of heart disease, high blood pressure, diabetes, and doubled over with fibroids and it’s because we are so intent to hold on to this irrational stereotype. The women who live long, happy, healthy lives are the women that understand that it’s human to have weakness, to ask for help, and to admit imperfection. There’s no valor in being so hardened, so filled with hate at your fellow sistren that you lack the empathy, a quality Black women should embody and personify.

Standing up against oppressive, sexist, and misogynist depictions of ANY Black woman is a measure of evolution. We all suffer, when we are referred to as bitches and ho’s, those that believe themselves to be just that and those that would sooner spit on those women than acknowledge that their plights are the similar. Aren’t we all as Black women, looking to feel validated and loved, to feel as if our life has value? Haven’t we all, every Black woman, made poor choices when it comes to men? Yes, some women have been led astray by unhealthy influences and messages and yes, they behave in ways that are detrimental to their self-esteem and self worth. If we can’t come together, however, to stand united against the oppression of ALL Black women we will perish in a quagmire of backstabbing and denial.

Copyright 2006 AfroerotiK

Made for Me

If I could have a man created specifically for me, with all the things I desire in a partner, I would ask for a man who took my breath away every time I saw him. He would be tall and brown and ooze integrity and character from every pore in his being. He would be wise beyond his years and his words would be carefully chosen each time he spoke and they would flow like honey from his lips.

If I could have a man created specifically for me, he would consider Africa his cultural and spiritual homeland and be willing to shed the belief systems that we have incorporated during slavery for a more holistic way of living. He would be driven to fulfill his purpose in life and single minded in his dedication to a cause that is holy, righteous, and good. He will meditate every morning and he would pray with me every night. Of course, he will be able to cry on my shoulder and ask for support because he has come face to face with the demons that have kept men from evolving emotionally and he will have a commitment to redefining himself anew. He will listen first and then speak, he will not internalize every comment as criticism, and he will apologize when he’s done something wrong.

My perfect man will live off of a plant based diet, practice a spiritual system other than Christianity, and he will be openly bisexual. He will have been in an intimate relationship with another man and loved him. He will be comfortable with his sexuality not being tied to ridiculous roles that define him. He will be a patient and attentive lover who will be willing to please and pamper me with the knowledge that I will only return the favor tenfold.

He will be an amazing father to our children, patient, loving, and kind. He will be an excellent example for them to follow and raise them up to be discerning, compassionate, logical, and most of all brilliant. He will not show favoritism to our sons and he will be capable of twisting the locs in our daughter’s hair. He will be willing to educate our children at home and take equal responsibility in doing so.

He would never be intimidated by my intellect, potential, or my activism and he would support me and my efforts with words of encouragement and praise. He would put other’s needs above his wants and we will travel the world in search of truth. He will know the first and third verses of the Negro National Anthem and he will stand up when it’s being sung without being told. He will never use the word nigger, nigga, or any phonetic or derivative spelling thereof out of reverence and respect for our ancestors.

I want my perfect man to be equal parts creative and intelligent, equal parts spiritual and carnal. Make him open-minded, tolerant of people’s differences, and as far left as he can get politically without falling off the scale and ending up in jail at Guantanmo Bay. I want him to be an avid reader and lover of jazz, art, real theater (not Medea plays) and capable of articulating why the current brand of hip-hop is misogynist and offensive to not only women but to men as well.

His commitment to our relationship will be beyond compare. My perfect man would prioritize and sacrifice in order for us to continually grow. Ahh, my perfect lover would hold me in his arms at night and kiss my forehead and whisper, “I love you,” and make me feel as if everything was right with the world.

Promises, Promises

Being a bachelor is great, right? You can do what you want, come and go as you please, with no one to answer to. There’s a side to living the single life that a lot of guys don’t like to talk about however. If you’re not the type of brotha who’s a playboy, with hot, nympho supermodels coming in and out at all hours of the night, if the majority of your sex comes from a computer screen and not a human being, life can be really lonely for the single guy.

That was the sad reality for Chase. He worked 9 to 5 or so at an insurance company at a job that was so incredibly boring that he contemplated running away to Rio every morning during his daily commute. He couldn’t really complain too much, he got away with doing as little work as possible and got paid well enough to go on vacation, party, save a little, and live comfortably. He wasn’t ugly, he was attractive by most standards, but he just wasn’t the sort of guy that felt comfortable going out picking up random chicks. He could if he applied himself to the effort but it just didn’t seem worth the drama.

It was the ride home from work where Chase’s inner sexual demons started taunting him. Living alone, Chase had become addicted to masturbation. He felt guilty about the fact that he felt like he was enslaved to his raging sexual desires. Sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic, he made a deal with himself. “I’m not going to do it tonight. Yeah, I’m not going to do it for another month, starting today,” he affirmed aloud.

Arriving home, Chase headed straight for the bathroom. Pulling out his dick, he let loose with a stream of hot urine into the bowl. It felt good to piss and before the strong yellow stream finished, his dick was getting wood. He stroked it a little and pulled his balls out and started rolling them in his fingers. Catching a glance of himself in the mirror, the guilt hit him and he stopped before he got too carried away.

Getting out of his suit and putting on some comfortable sweats, Chase was free to fix dinner. Well, he ordered take-out because he had never even used his stove before. Committed to his vow, he sat down to watch TV while he ate his buffalo wings. He hadn’t even been home for an hour before he started getting anxious. “I’ll just log on, check my email, and log off,” he said to himself, knowing that it was the Internet that was his downfall.

Before he could even open up a browser, he got an IM from one of his buddies saying, “hey whaz up u gonna cam 2nite?”

“Nah, not tonight,” he replied before he went invisible. He checked his email and other than notification that an ousted Nigerian parliamentarian was seeking his assistance in getting $2 million bucks out of the country, he didn’t have any emails. He checked his MySpace and Black Planet pages, wrote about how much he hated his job on his blog, and he didn’t see a reason not to check his Xtube page while he was at it. The temptation was just too great and he checked out some of the recently added videos. He watched a few women getting pounded hard in the ass while he played with his nipples, twisting and rubbing them. There couldn’t be any harm in checking out a few tranny vids, could there? Before he knew it, Chase had been watching porn for two hours and his dick was as hard as a rock and he was stroking it with his favorite lotion for lube. He’d been teasing himself the entire time and he was desperate to cum.

He struggled within himself. He didn’t want to go back on his vow but he was so horny, so turned on. He felt ashamed of himself, and guilty. It was almost as if his lust controlled him when he was in this sort of aroused state. Now, completely naked, he was fingering his ass and didn’t give a damn about the empty promise he’d made to himself.

He went to his closet and got out all of his toys. Chase had a collection of dildos that went from small butt plugs he could wear under his suits at work with no one the wiser to gigantic, humongous, enormous dildos that didn’t look like human beings could take them. They ranged in color from light cocoa to the darkest of ebony. His dick leaked precum at the very thought of feeling those huge, fake dicks penetrating his ass.

Part of his arousal was feeling the shame. He felt dirty and abnormal for loving things shoved up his ass but that turned him on as well. He was terrified he was the only brotha in the world who loved women, loved pussy, loved fucking but also loved feeling his asshole stuffed with hard, huge fake dicks. When he was aroused like this, his ass had a mind of it’s own. He couldn’t count how many times he’d thrown every dildo he owned away, promising to never do it again, only to wind up a few weeks later, replacing all the ones he’d discarded and buying even more to add to his collection. He just couldn’t come to terms with the fact that his asshole would get as horny as a pussy, throbbing and desperate to be filled, fucked savagely, and left gaping open.

As hard as he tried, he couldn’t go more than three or four days without it. Something in him took over and it was all he could think about. He had a ritual. He went from small to large, talking to himself out loud the entire time. “Ohh, that’s it. Ohhh, it feels so good going in my tight hole. Mmmm, I can feel the head of that dick stretching my anal ring, sliding in deep. Damn, I love feeling that thick shaft in me.” He didn’t even have to touch his prick, it leaked on it’s own. When he did jerk his stiff, hard erection, he craved the feeling of a big, hard dildo deep, deep inside him. He loved feeling slutty and by the time he was in the zone, he as out of control with his fantasies. “Fuck yeah, fill my pussy with that hard meat. Give it to me, fuck me with that big dick.”

Truth be told, he was crazy for the feeling of being penetrated but he was terrified of being bisexual. Those fears seemed to disappear when he was fucking himself; he got off in those moments of depravity by thinking of himself as a faggot gangbang slut, taking on four and five dudes at a time, being used, driving them crazy with his insatiable asspussy that couldn’t be satisfied, that would drain them of their cum and be ready for more.

By 11:00, Chase was deep in his nightly routine and he was ready for the 13-inch dildo in his ass. It was over four inches thick at the base and as black as night. He positioned the base on the wall and got on his knees. He teased himself by rubbing it up and down his ass crack and over his balls. He liked teasing himself, pretending that he had to beg for it like a filthy whore. His asshole was throbbing with desire and he heard himself moan as he backed up on the head. For Chase, that was one of the most intense feelings, feeling that thick head pop in his hole. He taunted his fantasy lover, “Oh yeah, does that feel good? You like the way my tight, wet, hot pussy makes you feel?” He backed up on the dildo and felt every inch as it went deeper and deeper inside. Luckily, he’s laid out some towels on the floor because by the time he’d worked that entire dildo in his ass, he’d pissed himself and it felt damn sexy.

The feeling of fullness was indescribable. Chase wished he could stay like that forever, with that huge dildo deep in him, filling him, keeping him on the edge of pleasure and satisfying a need in him to be filled. He grabbed another dildo and shoved it in his mouth, sucking it like only a cheap whore could. He wanted two real dicks filling him, making him take every inch. In his mind, he was a cum slut, bareback bitch, getting hot cum pumped in him from both ends. Chase was like an animal, sweating and moaning and fucking himself like crazy. He worked every inch of that thick dildo in his ass and wiggled that ass like a stripper to work it deeper. He got into a rhythm where he would take it all the way out to the head and slam back on it hard, causing himself to moan out in pleasure as he fucked himself over and over again. When he felt himself getting close to cumming, he stopped; prolonging the pleasure was such an intense high he didn’t mind only getting a few hours sleep at night in order to scratch that itch in his mancunt.

When he lay on the bed, with his legs in the air, he could see the dildo going in and out of his pussy in the mirror. He loved looking at his sexy brown hole gape open, imagining loads and loads of hot cum dripping from it. He found himself on more than one occasion licking and sucking a dildo directly from his ass, tasting his manly ass juices and shoving it back in only to lick and suck it again. He talked to himself in the mirror, “Look at you. You are so nasty. Look at you cleaning that filthy dick straight from your shithole. Mmm, it tastes so good.”

When he knew he couldn’t take it anymore, when he knew he was about to explode with cum, he turned on his web cam, mounted his favorite, curved dildo to his chair and gave a show for anyone who wanted to see. His fans loved seeing him ride that thick dildo as much as they loved seeing him stroke his own impressive dick. Every time that curved dildo hit his spot, he would moan like a bitch. “Fuck yeah, I love feeling that big hard dick in my pussy. I’m such a faggot slut. I can’t get enough. I’m addicted to feeling that thick, hard shaft shoved in me. I need it deeper, harder.” The muscles in his thighs flexed and he jerked his erection in time, hard and fast. “I’m such a fucking cumwhore. I love getting fucked in my ass. Shit, fuck me. Fuck, it feels so fucking good. Goddamn bareback pussy boi whore who can’t get enough. Fucking fag boy who loves getting fucked. Dirty, nasty shithole slut, getting that hot, thick dickmeat where I need it. Come on, can’t you fuck me any harder than that? Use this tight manpussy, rip it open. Oh god, I can’t take it, I’m going to cum. Shit . . . Fuck . . . Damnnnnnnn!!!! Oh fuck, I’m cumming.”

Cleanup was a bitch. The last thing he wanted to do at 3 in the morning was to wash up and put everything away in its hiding place. He knew if he didn’t, Chase knew that if he didn’t put everything away then and there, that when he came home from work later that evening, that he would be too tempted to do it again. And this time made a promise to himself that he wasn’t going to do it again for at least another month.

Copyright 2008 AfroerotiK

Cream-filled Center

Juan tried to hold off as long as he could. He could prolong foreplay four what seemed like HOURS to Carmen. He loved her natural, musky scents so he didn’t have a problem licking her from head to toe. When most people say the phrase “head to toe”, they really mean tits, pussy, and if you’re lucky, ass. For Juan, it meant licking the soles of Carmen’s feet, between her sexy toes, it even meant licking under her arms. He was a man aroused by tastes and scents and he was very oral in his desires.

After intensive pussy licking, making his lover wet with passion, he held her legs up and put them over his shoulders. Pulling his foreskin back, revealing the sensitive pink head of his brown cock that was swollen and shiny with precum, he took aim. He lined the head up with her tight hole and teased her momentarily, just rubbing the sensitive tip against her smooth pussy lips. Carmen wanted to get fucked and fucked hard, so she grabbed his hips and pulled him forward, essentially making him ram his thickness into her. She screamed out that it hurt but she didn’t let go of her grip and they built up a steady, pounding rhythm, him thrusting inside her and she taking every inch and begging and screaming for more.

His dick hit bottom, stroking her tight pussy walls and he could feel the cum in hits nuts boiling up. He concentrated on the task at hand, thrusting, pumping, driving his dick in her over and over and over again. He could smell the musky scent of their combined perspiration in the air. He gripped her thighs tighter, pinning them back to her chest and he pumped her that much deeper. He could hear the wet sounds of his balls slapping against her wet cunt and he was grunting like an animal. Carmen took her finger, stuck it in her mouth, and slid it in Juan’s asshole. That was it, he couldn’t take it anymore and he pumped his hot load deep in Carmen’s pussy.

The fun wasn’t over for either Juan or Carmen, however. Grabbing the backs of her knees, Carmen held her legs open. Her pussy looked swollen and red and her hole gaped open lewdly. Juan settled in and put his face just inches from her raunchy, well-fucked pussy. He inhaled deeply, savoring the aroma of a pussy that was dripping with cum. Carmen pushed. Her pussy farted and the load Juan had just pumped in her dribbled out. He dove for the slimy treat, and stuck his tongue in her loose hole. He could taste the tangy mixture of both of their juices together and it made him light-headed, almost drunk with arousal. His dick got hard again almost immediately as he sucked that delicious creampie, getting off an eating the cum that he had just deposited. Juan had been eating his own cum since he was a teen but there was nothing better than eating his cum from a wet, juicy, sweet, hot pussy that he’d just fucked.

He had to swallow quickly as Carmen kept pushing out cum, both his and hers. He held the load in his mouth and Carmen pulled him up to kiss her. He shared their cum with her, swapping that nasty cocktail back and forth as his dick found it’s way back between her thighs and deep in her pussy again. He pumped her longer this time, harder even, making the room reek with the smell of hot sex and pumping her pussy full of another load of his hot cum.

Copyright 2008 AfroerotiK

I’ve been a VERY Bad Girl

I’m sorry. I promise, I won’t be bad again. Please, pretty please, don’t spank me. I didn’t mean to be naughty. I don’t deserve to be spanked. It’s too humiliating. I mean, who wants to pull up their skirt and pull down their panties and lay across your lap to wait to get a spanking? Not me. Isn’t there anything I can do to make you not be mad at me? I can be a very good girl if you let me, if you know what I mean.

This isn’t fair. You’re so strong; it’s going to hurt really bad. Please don’t spank me. I know my ass is big and full but that just means it’s more ass to spank and it’s going to hurt more. I don’t see why I should have to take off all my clothes while you stay dressed. You’re such a meanie.

Okay, let’s get this over. You said twenty times, right? No more! Just do it you son of a bitch. OUCH! That hurts. You like this, don’t you? You are getting off on seeing my ass jiggle and move every time you land your hand on my flesh, hearing the slap ring out as it makes contact with my soft butt. Not so hard, you don’t have to be so sadistic about it. Mmmm, stop it. You perverted mother fucker, you are getting off on this, aren’t you? I can feel your hard dick rubbing on my thighs. LET ME GO RIGHT NOW! My ass is on fire and it hurts so bad.

Okay, it’s over, let me up. Wait, that wasn’t part of the plan. You can’t spread my legs and . . . oh shit, stop that. Don’t finger my pussy. So what it’s wet! That doesn’t mean anything. Mmmm, stop, please. You can’t fuck me, it’s going to hurt my sore, hot bottom. How dare you slam your big, hard dick in my soaking wet pussy from behind, slamming into my stinging ass after you’ve spanked me. I’ll get you back for this. I promise I will.

Copyright 2008 AfroerotiK

The Thrill of Exposure

Tracy was the more adventurous partner in the couple. Eric wasn’t really conservative, he had a wild streak, but it was usually reserved for behind closed doors. It was she who took unnecessary chances and risked getting caught in situations that could be potentially very dangerous. It was the thrill that drove her to try new things in public, and unfortunately for Eric, he could only resist for so long until his hard dick told him otherwise.

Today was no exception. While going through the rather mundane chore of grocery shopping, a chore they usually did together to make it less of a burden for one person, Tracy started flirting and making sexy suggestions in Eric’s ear while picking out produce. “I bet you’d love to shove this huge, fat cucumber in my asshole, wouldn’t you babe?” Eric just shook his head and tried to tell her to be a little quieter; he didn’t want other people hearing her lewd comments.

While pretending to reach for a tomato, Tracy rubbed her hand against Eric’s pants, making sure to caress his dick a little longer than she should. “Will you stop that! Come on, it’s not funny. I don’t want to get thrown out of Publix. How embarrassing would that be?”

“I’m sorry baby, she said, sticking her tongue in his ear and acting like she didn’t have a care in the world. They were a few aisles away when Tracy took the opportunity to bend all the way over reach for something on the bottom shelf and Eric could CLEARLY see beneath her short skirt that not only was she not wearing panties, but that she had a butt plug in her ass and she had no shame in showing off to him.

“Jeez, Trace, what are you doing?” His words sounded outraged but his dick was harder than a rock. He grabbed her by the arm like a father does a child and they didn’t even finish getting the things on the list. He was tempted to leave the cart in the aisle and go home so he could fuck the living daylights out of her. Tracy convinced him that they should at least pay for the things they had already gotten because they were certainly going to need some nourishment later in the evening.

In the parking lot, putting the bags in the back of their SUV, Tracy took the opportunity to pull the back of her skirt up intentionally and spread the cheeks of her ass to make sure Eric got one last view of her toy. Paranoid, he looked around to make sure no one else was looking and pulled her skirt down and demanded that she get in the car. The windows weren’t tinted but he hoped they were high enough away from prying eyes to keep people from seeing him whip out his hard dick. Without a word being spoken, Tracy swallowed him whole. She pulled the zipper down on her top and freed her tits. Eric fondled them with one hand while his other hand kept a steady pressure on the back of her head. It wasn’t because Tracy was reluctant to suck him off, it was because he was so close to cumming he couldn’t have her stop. Tracy sucked and licked and swallowed like there was no tomorrow, driving her man crazy with their very public antics. Cum shot so hard from Eric’s dick that he thought he was going to choke his lover. Shot after shot erupted as he moaned out. Tracy took it all like a champ and licked her lips. It wasn’t until they were unpacking groceries at home that Eric noticed that Tracy had put that cucumber in the cart.

Copyright 2008 AfroerotiK

Our First Place

We put the key in the door of our first home and crossed the threshold hand in hand. We had just come from the closing and the house was officially ours, ALL 2,200 square feet of mid-century Ranch amortized at 6.34% for the next 30 years of it. For a couple of dykes, buying a house together is the closest sort of commitment you can get to getting married. Sabrina was feeling sentimental, going through each room and dreaming out loud of what our lives were going to be like; the Virgo in me was feeling overwhelmed and anxious at the amount of unpacking we had to do just to get to our toothbrushes, towels, and dishes.

I have to confess, when I was watching her unpack, with her red and white scarf tied around her head and her favorite t-shirt with a big ole rainbow on it, I had to marvel at her beauty, both inside and out. She was so calm, so grounding for me. She’d made coming out to my family not easy, but tolerable. She made all the gross and offensive comments from men who thought they could “change me with their super dicks” bearable. She just fits me perfectly in every way. We’ve been together for four years. That’s equivalent to 16 heterosexual years for a lesbian couple and we’ve been together longer than all of our gay friends, both male and female, have ever been in a relationship combined.

I’d just about finished getting the bed frame up when I heard our doorbell ring for the first time. I ran downstairs to see who it could be and I saw Sabrina paying a delivery guy for some takeout food. She’d set up a makeshift table in the living room by taking one of our moving boxes and putting a sheet over it and she decorated it with flowers from our garden in a jar from the garage and some candles she got from who knows where. “Come and get it,” she said, as we sat down on the floor to dine on some Chinese food on the first night of the rest of our lives together.

I was overwhelmed with the feelings of love I had for this woman. “You know, I adore you, right?”

She looked at me and half-laughed. “Of course I do. And I love you too.”

“No,” I said, “I adore you. You mean the world to me. I don’t even want to think what my life would be like without you. I can’t even imagine who I would be without you.” I started to get really emotional and the words got choked up in my throat. She crawled over to my side and I put my head on her shoulder. She kissed the top of my forehead and I reached up to kiss her. Her tongue found mine and we shared an intimate kiss that grew more passionate with each passing tick of the clock. I lay back on the living room floor and she climbed on top of me, pressing her body into mine.

“Mmmm, we don’t have any curtains up yet . . . . we should . .. Stop,” I managed to say.
True to her rebellious nature, she said, “I don’t give a fuck. This is OUR house,” with heavy emphasis on the word our, and if I want to make love to my wife, and people want to watch, then so fucking be it.” With that, she slid her hand between my legs and pressed her palm against my mound. My body responded before my common sense could and I was pulling her t-shirt over her head while she was freeing me from the restrictions of my clothing.

We made love, on the floor, the very first night in our brand new home. Reclining back on an overstuffed pillow, I spread my legs and she made a dessert out of my breasts, licking and sucking my hardened nipples until I was begging her to go down on me. She kissed her way down my stomach and spread my legs. Taking her fingers, she spread the lips of my pussy and softly, gently, licked my clit until I was squirming and moaning and holding her mouth to my wet slit, wrapping my legs around her head and demanding that she let me cum in her mouth. She worked her tongue up inside me and her fingers found my asshole. I was cursing and screaming and telling her how good she made me feel and thankful we weren’t in our old, tiny one bedroom apartment with thin walls.

I turned over and got up on my knees and she alternated between driving her tongue in my pussy and my ass, causing me to reach back and spread my asscheeks wider so she could do her magic. She licked me from my clit to my spine and back again and I was grinding my pussy all over her face. She playfully slapped my ass and warned me that if I didn’t hold still that she was going to stop. Like hell she was going to stop. She wanted my cum and she wasn’t going to stop until I was flowing all over her.

She did a Bruce Lee sort of move and flipped around until her pussy was against mine. I could feel the heat of her warm cunt and the wetness of her slippery folds. She scissored her legs with mine and started bumping and grinding away, clit to clit. It was like our pussies were French kissing. I could feel the first signs of my orgasm approaching and I begged her to stop. I wanted to make love to her, to eat her, to enjoy every inch of her body first. She didn’t listen and she kept taunting me, teasing me, telling me to cum. “Give me that cum baby. Bathe me in your sweet honey. That’s it, squirt all over Mami. Oh yeah, baby, fuck me with that hard clit of yours. “

That sent me over the edge and I exploded. We curled up in each other’s arms and lay there for a while, just basking in the glow. I stroked her hair and intertwined my brown fingers with hers. She said, “We’ve christened one room, just think, we have six more to go.”

Copyright 2008 AfroerotiK

Butt Fucking

My boyfriend and I both LOVE anal sex. And when I say we love it, I know that I can’t get enough of it and he’s an anal enthusiast to say the least. If I had my way, I could take a dick in my ass every day, twice a day if I had the chance. Kevin, on the other hand, likes to keep a little variety in our sex lives so he has me on anal restriction. I can only get butt fucked twice a week so I have to ration it out until I’m desperate for it and I can’t take it anymore.

Kev can always tell when I when it’s “my time” because I start getting a little more frisky. While we’re fixing dinner, I’ll be sure to rub my ass against him a little more than is necessary. I find lots of opportunities to bend over so he can see the ass that still makes his head turn, even after two years of being together. It usually backfires on me because by the time he starts grabbing my ass and rubbing his hard dick against me, I’m ready to let dinner burn, bend over the counter, and beg him to slam his dick in my horny backdoor.

If I make it through dinner, and maybe even a little TV or music afterwards, I’m pretty anxious to get to the main event. We’ve gotten into a little routine. First, Kevin will give me an enema. There’s nothing like raw, natural ass fucking, earthy, musky, and dirty the way it’s supposed to be. And trust me, there have been plenty of times when I can’t wait and I have to have him in my ass without any preparations. But Kevin has a really big dick and it just fits better and goes deeper when we take extra precautions.

I love the whole cleaning process. There’s something so arousing and erotic about being so completely vulnerable when someone else is giving you an enema. At first, I thought the entire concept was humiliating but now, I’m so glad we’ve incorporated it into our play. To be honest, I think that adds to the eroticism of it for me. When I feel that tubing go in my ass, I get turned on beyond belief. Kevin likes to make it really intense for me so he’ll be sure to rub my clit and play with my nipples and whisper all sorts of delicious and nasty things he’s going to do to me while the water is filling me up. I am such a freak for anything in my ass so I love the feeling of the water filling me up. He massages my stomach and slides the nozzle in and out, driving me fucking insane with lust and making my pussy literally dripping wet with desire. The need to get fucked and fucked really hard, however, is greatest in my ass to be sure.

While I’m taking care of business in the bathroom and showering up quickly, that’s Kevin’s time to get out lube, toys, videos, and whatever else we might need. By the time I’m back in the bedroom, Kevin’s desire for anal play has taken over and he’s usually as hard as a rock. That’s excellent for me because I don’t need much foreplay when it comes to getting my ass reamed.
I get to decide what position I want it in. My favorite, not surprisingly, is on my knees. It feels animalistic and primal to have that thick meat sliding in and out of my ass from behind like that. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve ridden Kevin’s dick with my asshole until he was sore, and I get off on seeing his face when I’m on my back, holding my legs up, while he’s pumping hot cum in my ass from above. But any true anal lover will tell you, there’s nothing better than getting that dick in you doggy style, face down, with him grabbing my hips and ramming it home, until I’m screaming and cumming and passing out from pleasure.

When I climb on the bed, I get into position and reach back with both hands so I can spread my asscheeks and he applies the lube. Most times, he’ll start out by licking my ass first, sticking his tongue in it and getting it nice and wet. I swear, with his saliva, my pussy juices, and my unashamed NEED for him in my ass, I don’t need any lube whatsoever but he always insists. By the time he’s finished working the lube in my ass with his thick, strong fingers, I’m so horny to get my ass fucked I can’t take it anymore and I’m usually screaming, “Stop teasing me, fuck me in my asshole, ram your big hard dick in my ass now, damn you.”

You know that feeling, when the head of that dick slides in your asshole, that feeling of out-of-this-world pleasure? Well, it’s that feeling that drives me crazy. That and knowing I’m about to get nine of the biggest, blackest, sexiest inches of dick pounded in my ass like I’m a dirty faggot whore. Say what you want but I can take a dick in my ass better than any man can. I like it deep, hard, and long and I always end up begging for more. And Kevin knows how to deliver. He’ll take his time at first, working every inch of that dick inside me, pushing past my anus until he’s deep in my colon. GOD, I love that feeling and I could stay like that all night. I can’t keep still long enough for that so I end up fucking him back, letting him know that I can take more.

By the time he and I have gotten into a nice rhythm, he’s pulling out all the way to the head, and slamming his dick balls deep back in my ass. That’s when I’m in my zone and I can’t get enough. He calls me his filthy ass whore and I cream all over. He tells me my shithole belongs to him and I have to bury my face in the pillow to keep from screaming. He pulls his dick out and I dive on it like a cock-craved slut while he tells me to lick my nasty ass juice from his filthy dick. It’s only when he slams it back in, and he’s pounding me, fucking me, thrusting every inch of his massive dick in my asshole, only when he’s pumping my ass full of that hot cum that I’m satisfied. I cum all over his belly, coating his balls and thighs with my juices as I feel his softening dick slide out of my gaping butthole and know that I have to wait another three or four days until I can get satisfaction again.

Copyright 2008 AfroerotiK

Give me a Hand

I love being pushed to new limits, new heights of ecstasy. I love feeling like I can share anything and everything with you. Can I tell you a secret? I hope you won’t think less of me. Sometimes I want . . . well, let me just say I love the way you pleasure my body. Sometimes I feel like I can’t get enough. I feel like I’m addicted to the pleasure I get from your touch.

Okay, okay, I’ll tell you. I like feeling your fingers inside me. I love the way you fuck my swollen, wet pussy with your fingers and you probe and push my buttons that make me feel so good I feel like I want to crawl out of my skin. Your hands are so big and strong, so masculine, and I feel so much sensual bliss when you are fingering me to the brink of orgasm.

I want to feel more of you. When you have three fingers in me, I feel so full, so sexy. Go ahead and put four fingers in me; I can take it. Yeah, it’s going to be a tight fit but go for it. I’ll pull my legs to my chest, allowing you greater access. Can you see my wet pussy and hear my moans telling you to go further, deeper? MMMMMMM, you’re almost there. You know what I want. Don’t make me say it. Please, just do it. Fuck, push it in deeper. Shit, it feels so good. Damn you, fist me. Fist my wet pussy; make me scream. I feel so full. Shove your entire hand in my wet cunt. Punch fuck me. Ram your hand in to the wrist and let me fuck myself on your whole hand. God, it feels so fucking good. More, I want more. I can’t believe it. I can’t believe how nasty it feels, it feels so fucking sexy, so intense. I’m going to squirt all over you. I’m going explode all over you while you fist fuck my wet, horny pussy.

Copyright 2008 AfroerotiK

A Stroke of Luck

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As Smooth as Silk

I like to splurge sometimes on life’s little luxuries. It makes me feel sexy to have some of the world’s finest silk caressing my body beneath the severe business suits I have to wear during the day. Delicate satins, sheer lingerie, and alluring teddies in red, black or pink contrast my conservative public demeanor quite uniquely.

Of course, at night, I can completely let my hair down so to speak and be as decadent as I want to be. Just know that tonight, I’ve taken an especially long time bathing, pampering myself and making sure every square inch of my body, from my perfectly pedicured red toes to my matching red fingertips, is soft, supple, and waiting for you to explore. While we are at the restaurant dining, you can imagine my full breasts encased in black lace, waiting to be released so you can suck my hard nipples. My matching black lace panties are already moist as my pussy leaks with sweet juices in preparation for your mouth.

If you think you can be discrete, you can slide your hand up under my skirt and caress my thighs. My silk stockings are imports directly from France. The seam runs perfectly up my sculpted calf and the sexy lace at the top is secured with my garter belt. We have to be especially careful not to run them so perhaps when we get home, you might want to use extra caution when removing my black, patent-leather high-heeled stilettos. A nice foot massage would feel really nice; feeling your hands caress my high arches and your mouth sucking my toes would drive me crazy. You licking and sucking my nylon-covered foot is highly erotic and I couldn’t help but rub my other foot on your hard dick, desperate to be freed from your pants. Of course, if you like, we can keep my stockings and garters on while you fuck me, feeling my silk-covered legs wrapped around you as you drive your erection in my hot, tight, pussy over and over as I call out your name.

Copyright 2008 AfroerotiK

Pregnant with Desire

Aiesha made it through the first trimester of her pregnancy with relative ease. Her morning sickness was minimal and her husband, Kalfani, was more than supportive, even sharing his own sympathy aches and pains along with her. It was a joyous time in their lives and they couldn’t wait to welcome the arrival of their son to the family.

To say that Kalfani was attentive to his pregnant wife was an understatement. Every evening, before they retired to bed, he replicated the same routine to pamper and spoil her. He would begin by drawing a warm bath, scented with aromatherapy oils, and he would join her in the tub, bathing and washing her body with a soft sea sponge and cocoa butter soap. Cradled between his legs, he would lather her womanly body that was even curvier being with child. Her breasts were swollen and sensitive and he would caress them gently, eliciting moans of pleasure from Aiesha. It wasn’t just Aiesha who enjoyed the treatment; Kalfani’s erection would be pressed securely between the globes of her ass, evidence that he loved rubbing the tender curve of her round tummy. After the bath, Kalfani would dry his beloved with a soft, fluffy towel and lay her on special satin sheets he purchased just to spoil her. He would anoint her body with brazil nut and almond oils from head to toe, finishing up with kiwi or passion fruit scented lotion.

With her hormones in overdrive, by the time Kalfani had finished slipping and sliding his strong, masculine hands up her smooth brown thighs and over her sexy, full hips, she would be desperate for sexual satisfaction. Spreading her legs and exposing her swollen and dripping wet pussy, Kalfani would stare in awe before he lowered his mouth to taste her succulent and sweet juices. Aiesha, driven by her body’s hormonal changes, was insatiable. She would explode in Kalfani’s mouth, drenching him in her sticky cum, and be ready for more within a few seconds. It was heaven for Kalfani, loving that his wife was super-sensitive and constantly horny. 

When she couldn’t take any more, Aiesha would push Kalfani away and indicate that it was time for the main event. Laying still and fully erect, Aiesha would then climb on her partner and position her hole right above his hard-as-steel dick. Taking her time and using caution, she would lower herself on his erection. The sensation was out of this world for Kalfani, feeling the intensity of her pussy walls, literally pregnant with arousal, and coating him with her juices. Reaching up, he would place her puffy nipples in his mouth and nurse from her as his radiant wife would ride his hardness to orgasm.

Up and down, she fucked him. She milked his dick with her silky walls; she fed him with her full breasts. Her body was aglow with arousal and she craved the sensation of being full with the two males she loved most in this world inside her at the same time but in different ways. At his limit for stimulation, Kalfani would deposit his cum deep inside his wife in the place where they created life together.

Copyright 2008 AfroerotiK

Black Strapon Punishment

She emerged from the shadows like a panther, her silhouette bathed in candlelight. The round curves of her full Ebony frame were a stark contrast to the eight inches of protruding Black dildo that was strapped to her body. He knelt before her, humbled by her majestic and powerful presence, this Divine representation of beauty and strength.

She caressed the sides of his face, her fingernails grazing his cheek gently. He knew his assignment without having to be told was to lick and suck that strapon to prepare it for the severe assfucking he was about to receive. He knew it wasn’t real but he wanted to show her how much he worshipped her pretend dick, how much he longed to give it pleasure. He kissed the head softly at first then licked it up and down. She moaned in appreciation as he feverishly kissed, licked, sucked and swallowed it passionately. She grabbed his head forcefully and thrust her hips forward. He gagged and choked, tears forming in his eyes, but he knew it was his responsibility to take every black inch deep in his throat.

Thoroughly lubricated in his spit, she pushed him forcefully to the floor. “On your knees slut, I’m about to give you the ride of your life.”

What was she doing back there? Couldn’t she see he was ready? Why was she making him wait? His asshole was thoroughly lubed and he was on he knees prepared to take everything she gave him. He’d spent many nights, in the safety of his home, riding huge black dildos, fucking himself with big hard black cocks. He could take anything she had to give him and then some. He wanted to be fucked, spanked, used and fucked some more.

He felt her hands on his thighs, her nails gently running up and down his legs. He wiggled his ass more, trying to make himself more inviting, to appear more slutty. He lowered his face to the floor and reached back to spread his ass cheeks. His asshole actually itched, needing to be filled with her ebony Strapon.

She placed the head of it against his asshole and asked, “Are you ready bitch?” All he could do was moan and wiggle his ass more. She pushed forward slightly and the head was inside him. He grimaced in pain, the sensation of her penetrating him more intense than any of his solo play. But he would not be denied, he’d waited to long to find the Ebony Domme that would fuck him senseless, to make his boy pussy nothing more than a slutty hole to be used at her whim.

She pushed more and it hit his spot. His dick jumped and twitched and he had to fight to regain control. He feared that he would cum without even touching himself. She was all the way inside him, buried deep in his guts. His senses were overwhelmed and he was leaking precum on the floor.

“Tell me what you want, whore,” she said.

“Oh Mistress, fuck my slutty pussy, rape me, take me, make me your slut, Mistress. Fuck me hard and deep ma’am. Fuck the shit out of me.” His words became a jumbled and incoherent mess. Her hands were gripping his hips; she was riding him hard. She slammed into him over and over again. He was fucking her back with everything in him and she wielded that Strapon with precision and skill. She pushed forward more and he moaned out in pleasure. All 11 inches of her Strapon were buried in his ass and, at that moment, he became an extension of his Black goddess.

Copyright 2004 AfroerotiK

What is important to me.

The most important thing in my life is breaking the chains of mental slavery that bind African Americans today. Liberating us from the belief systems we learned in slavery is paramount to any other thing I can do in my lifetime. We hold on to the things we learned in slavery and they are detrimental to our psyche, they debilitate us, they cripple us emotionally and psychologically, and we defend those things to the death. It is of the utmost importance to make my people see that the things that are considered normal, the beliefs that have gone unquestioned for centuries, and the way of life we adapted when we were enslaved are poisonous to our souls.

Being loved and loving is important to me. I was created to give love. I have so much in me to give. To shave my love with someone is the greatest gift I could be given. To love a mate and children are essential to my existence. As an expression and manifestation of The One Most High, it is my responsibility to love. Loving humanity, loving the earth are all expressions of love but for me, the most important love to share is that with the family one creates.

Eradicating racism is important to me. Ridding white people of the false sense of superiority that allows them to rule and dominate the world is essential to me. Restoring truth and balance to the universe is my job. I’m sickened by the perpetuation of white supremacy around the globe and I will cry out at every instance in order to stop the diseased thinking that has perpetuated genocide, slavery, and oppression of people of color around the globe.

Minority Affairs

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Copyright 2008 AfroerotiK