AfroerotiK
Erotic provocateur, racially-influenced humanist, relentless champion for the oppressed, and facilitator for social change, Scottie Lowe is the brain child, creative genius and the blood, sweat, and tears behind AfroerotiK. Intended to be part academic, part educational, and part sensual, she, yes SHE gave birth to the website to provide people of African descent a place to escape the narrow-mined, stereotypical, limiting and oft-times degrading beliefs that abound about our sexuality. No, not all Black men are driven by lust by white flesh or to create babies and walk away. No, not all Black women are promiscuous welfare queens. And as hard as it may be to believe, no, not all gay Black men are feminine, down low, or HIV positive. Scottie is putting everything on the table to discuss, debate, and dismantle stereotypes in a healthy exchange of ideas. She hopes to provide a more holistic, informed, and enlightened discussion of Black sexuality and dreams of helping couples be more open, honest, and adventurous in their relationships.
Friday, April 05, 2013
The Great Afrikan-Centered Homosexuality Debate
Our Abuse
Tuesday, April 02, 2013
Rise Up Ye Mighty Black People
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Love 04/03 by AfroerotiK | Blog Talk Radio
Love. It’s mysterious, it’s often times elusive, and it’s what we need for our survival. It makes our hearts go pitter patter and we fall head over heels into it. We are going to be talking about Eros: how to find it and maintain it. We, as a society, have become so disconnected and fragmented; love has lost its meaning. We equate Hollywood romance with love, we want to be loved but we are terrified of being hurt so we shut ourselves off from it. Some people have never seen true love so they define it as the drama that goes along with relationships. Well, this is the conversation where we are going to get down to the nitty gritty on L O V E.
Joining us for this in-depth discussion of love is Grace Chung, author of We Must Stay Tuned to Make Music: Love-Actions for Your Partnering and Personal Evolution and owner of the website Love Actions. We will be talking about the things we need to do within ourselves to attract love and the things we can and should be doing with our partners to maintain love. Grace Chung is a wife, mother to a 13 year old girl and 11 year old boy, fine & graphic artist, and author. She has always been a keen observer of human nature, with an artist's way of seeing beyond the norm, and a love of articulating her thoughts and visions. Being with her husband for 17 years has made partnering a topic she literally lives. She sees success in partnering as not so different from success in bringing out our best selves. It comes down to staying tuned and taking Love-Actions.
Monday, March 25, 2013
Black Erotica's Scottie Lowe of AfroerotiK 03/25 by myCultural Conversations | Blog Talk Radio
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Submissive White Men
On this show, we are going to be exploring the different types of submissive white men, what it means to Blacks in a racist society to have so many white men sexually submissive, what impact does this trend have on our culture, why this trend has remained so hidden in plain sight, and we will hear from the mouths of submissive white men and Black dominants who will tell all their secrets. Join us for this fascinating conversation that will surely open your eyes and make you rethink everything you know.
Saturday, March 16, 2013
Sexually Submissive White Men 03/20 by AfroerotiK | Blog Talk Radio
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
After Dinner Treats
Her breathing was calm; I could tell she was having a peaceful dream. I love watching her sleep; it is my private time to revel in her beauty and sweetness. Hours earlier, she wasn’t the serene and slumbering vision that lay before me. Earlier, she was a woman in charge, driving me to heights of passion that most men only dream about.
I had taken her to dinner just to give her a special treat . . . and somewhere in between the appetizer and the salad; my girl decided that she had to have me, come hell or high water. Damn! I love that feeling. She went to the ladies room and returned with a slightly damp pair of panties discreetly in her hand and a seductively wicked smile on her face. She dropped the panties in my lap as she slid back into her seat, exposing her bare mound for my eyes only. They couldn’t have weighed more than a few ounces but the presence of her red silk panties lying there against my hard-on made them seem like a ton of bricks. I desperately wanted to hold them to my nose and inhale her sexy scent but I dared not in the very public restaurant.
“Uhhh, waiter, check please.” I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. My lady had other plans as she told him to come back later with the bill. She slid her chair closer to me, undid my pants barely beneath the fringe of white linen tablecloth and freed my raging erection. Her silky smooth fingers gently caressing me made me want to nut right there. She took a breadstick from the table and lowered it out of my view. She was squirming and moaning ever so slightly indicating that she was doing really naughty things with that thing. I wanted to pull that, “Oh, I dropped my napkin let me get it under the table” trick but that only happens in fake assed porno’s. When she put that breadstick in her mouth and started to suck it like it was my dick I almost threw her on the table and fucked her right there for the entire world to see.
I left the waiter the biggest tip he’d ever gotten in his life and I couldn’t wait to get to the car. Apparently, neither could my girl. She was all over me. It’s a good thing the windows of my truck are tinted. Once completely inside, she leaned over unzipped my pants and wrapped her full, wet, thick lips around my dick and sucked me until I was moaning. It was the sloppy, wet kinda blowjob where you know your girl is doing it because she loves it and not because she’s obligated to do it. She was rolling my balls in her fingers and stroking me off at the same time. I felt myself about to lose it and I grabbed my shit to keep from busting a nut and I tried to conjure up images that would keep me from having to explain funny white stains to my car detailer and to my drycleaner.
She wouldn’t stop. She pulled her dress up and slid over in my lap. She undid the buttons on her blouse and pulled her nipples out of her bra. I sucked those perfect, hard, brown pebbles as she guided my dick to her hole.
Her pussy was so hot and wet I could feel her flesh pull me inside. I grabbed a handful of that ass and held on tight as she used my dick for her pleasure. Her pussy was gripping my dick so hard it felt like a vice, a velvety, smooth, hot wet vice nonetheless. That ridge inside her was working the spot on the head of my dick and was driving me insane.
We were both moaning like crazy. She was grinding on me, smothering me with her titties. I was slapping that ass and my dick was in heaven. I felt her strong brown thighs grip me and I knew she was cumming. Man! I coated every single inch of her womb I came so hard.
I wish I could say that I fucked the shit out of her when I got home but I would be lying. Truthfully, she rode me until my dick was sore. We both surrendered to the exhaustion you feel at the end of the most satisfying and delicious night.
Copyright 2004 AfroerotiK All Rights Reserved
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Friday, February 15, 2013
Monday, January 07, 2013
Reclaiming our Goddess Sensuality w/Makeda Voletta 01/08 by AfroerotiK | Blog Talk Radio
Thursday, January 03, 2013
America is too racially immature for a movie like Django
Prior to seeing the movie, I was very much aligned with the Spike Lee camp of detractors who were pretty outraged that a white person would dare to tell the story of slavery. Having only seen one movie by Mr. Tarantino previously, I was not impressed with his cultural sensitivity to the Asian people and wasn’t expecting much more than a gross/cartoonish depiction of the horrors my ancestors endured. I can say without reservation that Django unchained offered THE most accurate depiction of slavery I’ve ever seen in a non-documentary film. Hats off to Mr. Tarantino for not only doing his homework about what slaves had to endure but also kudos to him for grasping and interpreting the dynamics of race relations that very few people, white or black, seem to be able to comprehend.
Much has been made about his excessive use of the N word. I, personally, don’t ever use the word unless it is in the most academic of discussions. I do not think it has been morphed into some sort of term of endearment and I fully recognize its impact when said in front of white people. My ancestors bled and died at the base of that word so I refuse to casually throw it around out of respect to them. The Black people who do use it, especially those who feel comfortable using it in front of other races, are largely ignorant of the impact of the word or the origins and stigmas attached to it. Black people today use it because, for centuries, that’s what we were called and that’s all we knew ourselves to be. The messages passed down generationally haven’t changed one bit and its use today is almost exactly as it was intended to be used during slavery. That being said, there was not one instance in the movie where the N word was used inappropriately. It was used in the exact context and frequency that it was used during slavery. The theater I went to see the movie at was predominantly white and movie goers laughed and chuckled at the use of the word, largely out of nervous discomfort and I suspect because that’s the way they use the word in private conversations and they were rattled by its free/uninhibited use. One can only assume they felt a certain level of comfort being around other whites and confident that the Black movie goers more than likely use the word so frequently there was no fear of reprimand or riot. What the movie did was create an atmosphere of acceptance of the word whereby whites could go home and discuss the movie and casually throw the word around without respect or reverence for its impact.
The gentleman who sat next to my boyfriend apparently thought EVERYTHING in the movie was funny. He laughed incessantly throughout the entire film. It took every ounce of strength in my body not to take my shoe off and beat his ass to a bloody pulp. I was so outraged, so angry that I seethed and burned with hatred for him. His insensitivity and callous disrespect made me see red. My boyfriend, who is not of African descent, didn’t seem to take issue with him whatsoever. He saw my discomfort and he ignored it. He didn’t ask me if I was okay, he didn’t tell the guy to shut the FUCK up, he felt the white man had a right to respond in whatever what he wanted and that I just had to suck it up. Had I been laughing throughout a Holocaust movie inappropriately, the usher, the manager, and a half a dozen movie goers would have insisted that I leave. Had I been with a Black man, he would have insisted that the guy shut up and put the fear of God in him. Again, I have no doubt in my mind that we would have asked to leave the theater, not the man who disrupted and ruined the experience for me. It just proves that today, as in slavery, that if you’re white, you’re right, if you’re black, stay back. Not much has changed since slavery. The feelings, opinions, and personhood of Black people is insignificant to that of whites.
I do not watch violence as a rule so a great portion of the movie I spent with my eyes closed. Tarantino made a shoot ‘em film with carnage galore. I can’t imagine that the gun violence was any greater than most movies but the most chilling scenes were the ones where the violence was an accurate of what slave life was like. The slave being ripped apart by dogs, the Mandingo fights to the death, and the brutal rape, whippings, torture, branding, and abuse of slaves was chilling and accurate. Movie goers don’t get that. To them, it was all a part of the entertainment, made up.
There is much that movies goers, both white and black, are too uninformed/ignorant to get. Samuel L. Jackson’s role was one that depicted the relationship of the house nigger to the master. Because our conversations about race in this country are so superficial and juvenile, the understanding of how a slave with the consciousness of a Stephen could exist. Left to their own devices, moviegoers will assume that he was a self-serving, back-stabbing slave with an agenda to better himself and control/destroy all the other slaves. In reality, house slaves were the creation of slave masters and their allegiance was part and parcel of the system of slavery that needed slaves pitted against one another for its survival.
With the exception of the white protagonist, white people in the movie were depicted as stupid, outrageously cruel, and one-dimensional. They were lazy, treated slaves with despicable inhumane torture and were nonchalant and flippant about using their property, HUMAN BEINGS, for whatever deviant purpose their puny brains could conjure. Slave owners were just that.
There are many more aspects of the movie that could be dissected, examined, and discussed but, unfortunately, America is too racially immature to have any such discussions. White people are insistent upon inflecting the comment, “I’m not racist,” “Slavery was in the past, let it go,” or, “Can’t we all just get along,” into every conversation about race. They control conversations about race with their ignorance and refusal to learn, accept a different point of view, and their thinly-veiled racist beliefs. How many white people watched that movie and went home to watch interracial porn where the N word is thrown around like rice at a wedding? How many white people who say the movie routinely refer to Obama as a nigger and go on rants online where they hide behind a computer screen to espouse racist beliefs? If I’ve said it once I’ve said it a million times. White people have to wear a sheet, burn a cross, and run around screaming, “I hate niggers,” before another white person will dare to imply that they MIGHT be racist.
Black people are just as misguided. Black people think the movie represents some form of revenge, a win for Blacks as it were. Bullshit! That part was fiction. The concept of a Black man being a gun-wielding bad-ass and able to ride off into the sunset with his lady love is more like science fiction. But Black people are so willing to embrace that “feel good” dynamic of the movie because we don’t want to face our shame and humiliation at being connected to a slave past. EVERYONE wants to assume that they would be the one slave in 10,000 who would revolt and kick ass and take names later. The truth of the matter is, slaves were subservient and bred to be docile and millions upon millions of slaves conformed to the rules in order to live, to survive, because they didn’t know any other way. Black people are terrified to acknowledge a connection to a slave past because they feel as if recognizing the impact of slavery on themselves means that they are by default inherently inferior.
It won’t be until we can have an intelligent, informed, comprehension about slavery, race, and all its many, messy complexities that a movie like Django will be effective. For now, we are painfully diseased and incapable of having a dialogue about slavery/racism that goes beyond any more than cliché and rhetoric. Django was created with the potential to create an amazing dialogue about race but sadly, the nation just isn’t ready for that.
Copyright 2013 Scottie Lowe