Andre West fidgeted in his car seat. “OK,” he whispered into his watch, like it
was a spy gadget from a James Bond movie, “the time is 17:30 hours and I’ve
been surveilling the unknown address for two hours with no sign of any movement
other than the mailman leaving a package.”
Did it matter that he didn’t have a smart watch recording him, that his
watch was a decade old Timex that only told time? Ehhh, not so much. Clearly, he was going a little loopy with no
one to talk to and trying his best to stay under the radar slouched down in the
back seat of his Tahoe. He wasn’t a
private eye or a police detective on a case, he was a man on a mission to get
some answers. He had been dating an
amazing woman named Asali Attison for 6 months.
They were in love by all reasonable measures. The problem was, she was still being distant
and guarded. Normally, any two people
with that much in common, who had amazing, mind-blowing sex, who were
interested in a long-term commitment with each other wanted to spend every
waking moment with each other. Asali was
being secretive. For no discernable
reason whatsoever, she wanted “space.”
On the nights they didn’t spend together, she would very often rush off
the phone and he could tell there was something just not right.
A decade or so ago, Andre might
have had to just settle for her answer that she just wanted time alone but Andre
had the internet. He did a background
check on her and found out that she had two addresses listed in Dallas. He had been to her loft plenty of times. This other address, the one he had been
camped out in front of for a couple of hours was a condo she had never even
mentioned. It’s a good thing he had
tinted windows because a Black man in a strange neighborhood sitting in his car
for any length of time was enough to cause his name to become a hashtag. He was stealth. He had an empty Big Gulp cup with a very
secure lid just in case he had to pee and he made sure he was dressed
professionally so it would lessen the chances that someone might think he was
some sort of thug and chase him through the neighborhood, you know, standing
their ground. Oddly enough, he saw some scraggly-looking
white guy walk past a few times who looked like he could have been an extra on the
set of Breaking Bad and none of the neighbors even raised an eyebrow. Meanwhile, Andre made sure he wasn’t
listening to hip-hop on his car radio, he had jazz playing very softly on his
phone, and he had his driver’s license, registration, and car insurance cards
on the front seat of the car so he wouldn’t have to reach in the glove box for
them. Oh, the things Black men have to do in an average day to avoid getting
shot.
His time in the car was over as
he saw Asali’s black Infinity pull into the parking space for the unit. She got out, dressed like she had just come
from the office, and sauntered in her confident, sexy way to the mailboxes and
got her package. Andre decided he was
going to wait for her to get to the front door, with her key in the lock before
he decided to approach her. Just as he
was about to open the door to his truck, a late model Honda Accord pulled up
and parked in the second space for the unit.
Andre froze. Of all the scenarios
he had run in his head, Asali cheating was never one of them. That’s what Andre kept telling himself, even
as he saw a white man get out of the car and greet her on the walkway, open the
door with his own set of keys and let her enter the unit first.
To say that Andre was heartbroken
was an understatement. He took a few
minutes to gather himself and fight back the tears. If she had some sort of sugar daddy/jungle
fever, she could go straight to hell, do not pass go, do not collect $200. Steeling his nerves, he slammed the door of
his truck a little too hard and blinked a few times to make sure that he didn’t
have any tears in his eyes. He knocked
on the door with the force of someone who was not selling Girl Scout cookies.
The white man answered. His face showed signs of shock and
fear. “Andre! I uhmmmmm.
Hold on, let me get her.”
“Who the fuck are you and how the
hell do you know my name? Yeah, tell her
to come to the door right now because I want some answers.” Andre’s voice was getting a couple of octaves
higher and he could feel his emotions boiling over. The white guy left him standing outside. He didn’t want to make a scene and have the
police called so he waited patiently. He
loved Asali. More than any woman he had
ever loved before. This was just not
happening. No fucking way.
Dressed in a stunning red knit
dress that hugged her body but that was still professional, she took his hand
and pulled him inside. “Sweetie, I am so
sorry. I can explain.” In the seconds that had passed, it was clear
there were tears in her eyes as well.
She stood still, waiting for him to say something. Not letting go of his hand, she led him to
the living room and motioned for him to sit down.
“Todd, come here please.” The white guy tentatively came out of what
was surely a bedroom as the place was exquisitely decorated but very small. The kitchen was a galley kitchen and there
was a breakfast bar that appeared to serve as the dining room. In the corner of the living room there was a
desk with a desktop computer set up.
There was no TV and there didn’t seem to be any happy couple pictures of
the two of them framed anywhere. Andre
was devastated but he waited for the explanation. Todd, wearing the remnants of his business
suit from work, stood silently,
“I didn’t know how to tell you
and I realize now what a mistake it was to keep it from you and I’m so very
sorry. Andre this is Todd, Todd Wentley.”
“Really? This dude?
You are fucking around on me with him?
I’m outta here.” Andre was
emotional and irrational. He got up and Asali
cut him off.
“Noooo, it’s not like that. It’s . . . it’s complicated. Let me explain.” They sat down on the sofa again, this time,
her soft hand covered his. He wanted to
pull away he was so disgusted but the part of his brain that adored her wanted
this to be all a joke, a terrible, horrible, unbelievable, complex joke where
cameras were going to pop out and let him know that he was being pranked. She continued. “I know I should have told you when we first
started getting serious but there just didn’t seem like a good time. And after a while, I realized that I should
have told you in the beginning and then I was just ashamed and embarrassed by
the whole situation. I didn’t want to
lose you and I wasn’t ready to give up Todd.”
“Oh hell no! I swear to God if you tell me that you love
this dude I will lose my mind. Him? Get the fuck outta here! If you want him, you can have him!” He pulled his hand away, devastated.
“Andre! Stop!
It’s not like that. I own
him. He belongs to me.” The room fell silent.
The look of confusion on Andre’s
face was apparent. He sat back down this
time and he collected his thoughts for a moment. The silence was deafening but Asali knew him
well enough to let him have his space to process. He was aware that she had been a Domme and
had dominated white men in the past but he thought that it was just that . . .
in the past. Not once did they ever have
a conversation about it being in the present.
Andre was still shaky but he needed details. He couldn’t even fully pay attention; in his
head he was trying to figure out how they could go back to the way things were
2 days ago, before he even had a clue that there was a secret love nest.
He took a couple of deep breaths
and he queried. “So, this guy is so
important to you that you would rather risk our relationship than let him
go? Is that how it is? I cut off all my previous relationships when
we fell in love.” The word love sounded
flat and empty to him as it left his lips.
“Listen, it’s not how it
seems. I’ve invested a lot of time and
energy into him. I’ve created him to be
exactly what I want and need and he’s . . . he’s exceptional. He’s just too valuable an asset to just throw
away.”
Andre was incensed! “This dude?
You’re telling me that this white man satisfies you sexually so much so
that . . . I’m going to be sick. Where’s
the bathroom?” Andre’s whole world was
turning upside down and inside out.
“Stop it! Andre!
You have to calm down. Tell him, Todd, tell him what you do for a
living.”
Todd spoke up softly, trying to
help ease the tension in the room. “I
work as the Director of Social Media for the Dallas Police Department. Well, that’s my official title. In actuality, in secret, I function as a
liaison between the media and the community to hold the police accountable when
I can verify that they are doing something racist or that there are suspicious
circumstances surrounding any incident that involves race that they might try
to cover up.”
“Right,” Andre interjected, “I’m
supposed to believe that whitey here is champion for the oppressed black
man. Give me two fucking breaks. This bitch doesn’t even know what racism
means, let alone can he do anything about it.
He sold you a bill of goods. What
he really means is he deletes comments from their Facebook page that the police
don’t like. That’s his damn job. And how the hell did you get that fucking job
in the first place Mr. Black Lives Matter?”
Both Asali and Todd smiled. “Well, I got him the job. He got a divorce slightly after I met him and
he needed a fresh start so he moved from Seattle to Dallas and let’s just say I
know people who got him the job. People
with secrets. People in positions of
power who don’t want their secrets told so the job was created for him at my
behest. The fact that he is spying on
the cops and making their questionable actions known to the press is our little
secret. I promise he’s legit. You have to trust me. Todd, tell Andre what racism means.”
Todd didn’t even hesitate. “Racism is NOT one race not liking another
race. Racism is the historic, systematic, and institutionalized oppression of
people of color by Caucasians in their efforts to perpetuate the fallacy of
white supremacy in order for them to maintain the power structures that allow
them to have social, economic, educational, financial, and vocational
privileges. People of color cannot be racist. They can be bigoted, they can be
biased, but they can't be racist. More importantly, even if Black people are
bigoted, it does not hold the same weight, power, and privilege racist white
people have.”
He had Andre’s attention. It took him a full minute to collect his
thoughts enough to speak. “OK, OK, so he
can repeat what you taught him. Good
little monkey. But that doesn’t mean
that he is really champion for the Black race.
I’ve yet to meet a white man who . . .”
“Quiz him,” Asali
interrupted. “Pick a topic. Any topic.
The Trans-Atlantic Slave trade.
The principles of Afrocentricity.
White privilege. Slave
mentality. He’s read Asante, Akbar,
Marimba Ani, he can quote John Henrik Clark.
He is not just a parrot that can repeat what I’ve told him. I’ve trained him, I’ve shaped him, and I’ve
educated him. That’s what I meant by I
said he’s far too exceptional to let go.
Let me explain, please.”
Andre sat back on the sofa. He was confused but he wanted some sort of
explanation that made sense to him. He
nodded.
“When I met Todd two years ago, the
best he could do was say, ‘Racism isn’t fair.’
He was of the mindset that if it didn’t affect him personally, he didn’t
have to think about race even though he has only been attracted to Black women
for almost all his adult life. I decided
to manipulate his sexuality in order to refashion him into exactly what I
wanted him to be. I would restrain him,
handcuff him to the bed and I would whisper in his ear. I would stroke him, stroke his dick. I would bring him to the brink of orgasm over
and over and over again. I reprogrammed
his brain. I took the things that he
loved, things that aroused him like having his nipples stimulated and I would
manipulate them for hours, all the while training and teaching him. I associated his sexual pleasure with the things
I wanted him to learn, the things I wanted him to become. He would be out of his mind, crazed with
lust, begging for release, and I transformed him into my perfect pet. He will do anything I tell him to do, without
question or hesitation. He craves the
things that turn me on; craves them as if his life depends on it.”
“You have sex with him? Oh, hell no.
You have got to be fucking kidding me!”
“No, no, no,” she interjected,
“that’s not it at all. He doesn’t really
service me sexually, He has never in two years eaten my pussy. He . . . well . . . he services . . . Black
men for me. I get off on watching him
suck and get fucked. He gets off on
it. It’s like I said, he craves it.”
“Oh, he’s gay? Yeah, figures. White boys!”
“Well, not exactly. I suppose you could say that but it’s a lot
more complex than that. See, well . .
. let him explain it to you.”
Todd spoke up in his defense
again. “I’m attracted to Black women. I will always be attracted to Black women
first and foremost. That doesn’t mean my
sexuality is singular however. I’m not
gay. I’m not a sissy. I don’t have a need to dress up as a woman to
assume a submissive role, I would never demean women in that way. I respect them too much to assert that
wearing some heels and some makeup means that I am somehow transformed into a woman. I’m not a woman, I’m a man who is submissive,
I’m a man who is bisexual and I enjoy pleasing Black men and I don’t have to pretend
to be forced in order to do it. I love pleasing my Mistress and it gives me
intense pleasure to feel a hard dick explode in my mouth or ass and know that I
was able to do that. I love pleasing
Black men for her. I love making her
proud of me. I experience pleasure from
being penetrated, whether it is from her divine strapon, one of my toys, or if
it is from one of her lovers. I’m so
very grateful that Mistress allows me release but I know that I will never be
allowed to pleasure her sexually. I know
I’m not deserving of that honor. That is
purely the domain of the Black men she allows into her heart as lovers.”
Andre coughed and blinked. He knew by now not to over-react and to just
listen. He was trying to process it
all. He continued looking around the
small condo. The bookshelves were packed
with hundreds of books on black history, black psychology, and black
culture. There was no TV but he figured
the computer could be used for streaming media.
The complex looked like it had been built in the 60s but the interior
had clearly been updated with dark hardwood floors and a semi-open floorplan
that would not have been the style a half a century ago. Andre studied Todd, now sitting, who looked
nervous but not overly so as he was clearly taking his cues from Asali. In the average Black person’s lifetime they
NEVER meet a white person who understands and is sympathetic to the issues of
race so it would have been easier if someone handed Andre a piece of paper and
said, “Here is a Chinese calculus problem solve for è¿‘å¹³”
Todd continued. “Eradicating racism has become my mission in
life. Whereas when I first met Mistress,
I could distance myself from race, now it consumes every part of my life. I attack racism online every chance I get
knowing that for every one person I dismantle, there are thousands of other
lurkers there reading and learning like I did.
I feel like it’s my place to use my energy to combat what my Mistress
has had to endure every day of her life.”
“Man, this is too much to
handle. I’m not sure I can understand
everything that is being said. I will
give him credit for at least being more knowledgeable about racism than the
vast majority of white people but you can’t seriously think that he . . . I
mean come on . . . wait . . . what? This
is all so confusing.”
Asali turned to him and lifted
his face to hers. “Beloved King. I take full responsibility for your confusion
because of my deception. I knew from the
minute I met you that I wanted you in my life.
I allowed my fears of rejection by you to keep this secret. I was
so ashamed of myself for what I considered cheating that I rationalized that I
had to lie. Trust me, if it had been any
other sub, I would have dismissed them before you and I had our first
kiss. Todd is different. Sweetie, he’s not just a mimicking what I
tell him to say, however, he’s come up with his own theories of racism in his
efforts to dismantle it. I mean, he blew
my mind with his concepts. Honestly, you
need to hear him out.”
Todd raised his eyebrow signaling
he was asking Andre for permission to explain himself. Andre flicked his hand in Todd’s general
direction, indicating that he had the floor, he had better impress him. “The way I see it, racism permeates every
single solitary facet of our society.
There is not one single area where it doesn’t persist so white people as
a rule can’t say, ‘I’m not racist, I wasn’t raised racist,’ and all the other
rhetoric and clichés they spout when they are trying to silence people of
color. Our nation was built on the
foundation of racism. There has never
been a point in our history, recent or distant, where whites have been forced
to collectively address, acknowledge, or heal their racist beliefs so they
persists like a cancer. Every childhood
book has whites as the heroes. Every TV
show shows whites as upstanding and virtuous and saving the day. Magazines show people who look like me as the
100 most beautiful people in the world, the world where we only make up 10% of
the population. History books tell us
that whites invented everything great when in actuality we stole everything
great from people of color; violently stole I might add. School districts are zoned so that whites get
the best educations and Blacks get . . . well, you get the idea. No white person can escape the breadth and
depth of racism. Racism is the default
disease of our society and it has been since whites invaded, stole, and
inhabited this nation. Of course, racism
had gone rampant and continues to do so with the advent of technology. I’ve identified four very distinct classes of
racism that persist in this country, and this country is vastly different than
any other because of its history of slavery and the long-term effects that
linger unaddressed.”
“First, there are the blatant
racists. They are the Klan members, the
Neo-Nazi’s, the white supremacists. They
are the most vocal about hating Black people.
They will claim that they are white purists, trying to advance the cause
of the white race. They stay isolated
from anyone different from themselves but if you go on their computer’s you
will find gigabytes upon gigabytes of interracial porn. Trust me, I’ve been in the crime lab when the
techs go through their computers, I’ve seen time and time again that the most
staunch racist will have thousands of files of interracial porn on their
computers. But no one tells you
that. That’s the secret that whites get
to keep.”
“The second group consists of the
vast and overwhelming majority of white people in this country. The members of the second group are equally
as racist, but they are the most adamant that they are not. They are the ones who troll African American
websites telling Black people that they are racist. They believe Blacks are inferior, and they
defend whiteness at all costs. They tell
the racist jokes at work and get offended if someone catches them. Talk about denial, their own children will be
addicted to meth, heroin, and cocaine and they will swear that it’s only Blacks
who are the criminals. Just look at the
internet, look at any porn site. White
people abound posting their videos of them doing depraved, perverted, extreme
things yet white people will swear that Blacks are the sexual savages, driven
by lust. They feel entitled to
everything, they think that the world owes them. They come to the defense of any and every
white person who is accused of being racist like they know them personally. They swear racism doesn’t exist and but they
will call a Black person racist in the blink of an eye. Their mantra is, ‘Martin Luther King said,’
and they always have a Black “friend” who seems to cosign their racism. They mimic conservative talk show hosts and
media and they have never once challenged or questioned their own racism or
beliefs about race.”
“Group 2 not only watches
interracial porn, they have all sorts of interracial sex in real life. The white men are actively engaged with gay
sex with Black men in percentages too staggering for my little mind to
comprehend. There are so many married
white women having gangbangs in hotels with Black men they meet on craigslist
it should be considered a national pastime.
My domain, where I came from, fetish and domination websites, they have
millions of profiles with pictures with white men showing their faces
proclaiming that they are submissive to the superior Black race. But those same men have never once challenged
their erroneous beliefs about Blacks.
They still hold on to the core racist beliefs that Black men are only as
valuable as the inches between their legs, that Black women are ghetto hoochies
and reality star drama queens. The same
white men who are sucking black dicks in glory holes and the back seat of their
cars, who are pimping their wives out to Black men for unprotected sex, are the
same ones in corporate boardrooms who are making deals that keep Black people
disenfranchised and oppressed.”
“The third group is where I fell
when I first met Ma’am. I was in the
silent offenders. I knew that Black
lives mattered and that terrible racial injustice existed. I knew that the hatred of Obama was because
of his race but I didn’t have to think about it too much so I could be upset
for the total amount of time it took me to read a news article and then
compartmentalize it and put it away. The
third group of whites thinks racism is bad but they aren’t willing to do
anything about it, they don’t want to rock the boat, so they are just as
complicit as the first two categories. The
issue with the third group is that while they won’t burn a cross and they a
have sincere desire not to be racist, they still are because you can’t be
anti-racist until you study, until you learn, until you dismantle the fucked up
baggage that we whites have inherited that tells us that the sun rises and sets
around us. That’s what I didn’t
understand until I met Mistress. She
showed me that my apathy meant that I was contributing to the problem, that I
was in fact, racist. That’s the hardest
thing for white people to hear. There
is no greater insult than to be called racist.”
“The final group doesn’t even
make up one half of one percent of the white population. The last group are the true anti-racists who
acknowledge that we have privileges based on our race and that history has been
distorted to depict us as superior when we as a race have been guilty of the
most heinous aggressions against people of color around the globe. The last group has taken off our rose-colored
glasses and we see the hypocrisy and irony of stealing land, enslaving people
and then proclaiming yourself superior.
We, the last group, are truly the minority. It’s my job as part of that minority to fight
racism with every ounce of my being.
Ma’am taught me that. ”
Andre’s jaw almost hit the
floor. He paused momentarily to collect
his thoughts. “Ain’t that some
shit! I’ve never even heard a black
person explain it so succinctly before.
Is this for real?” Asali and Todd
both smiled. “So wait a minute. I’m willing to concede that this guy is on
some new shit. No doubt. But I’m still a
little confused about the sucking and fucking part. Don’t think I missed the part about him
sucking your lovers off. I know he
hasn’t ever sucked my dick so whose dick is he sucking exactly? You bring other men over here for him to
screw while you watch? Is that what you
do on the nights you aren’t with me?”
Asali could do nothing but
apologize again. It was her fault Andre
had all these doubts and insecurities.
If she had been honest with him from the beginning none of this would be
an issue right now. She explained that
they had not had anyone else involved in their play in almost a year. She also explained that she felt a sense of
obligation to Todd to him to keep him aroused so that he could continue to
fight for justice both at work and at home because she didn’t feel that his
efforts to put his life on the line to fight for equality should go unrewarded and
she didn’t just want to release him from ownership.
“On the nights I spend time with
him, I usually let him sniff my pantyhose and massage my feet. I
might fuck him with a dildo or a strapon until he releases. When I think he’s done a particularly good
job at work, when he’s exposed something major, I will let him have my panties
to sniff and lick while he masturbates.
I allow him to wear a butt plug when he’s at home and I keep him aroused
with stories of how you fuck me. That’s how he knew exactly who you were when
you knocked on the door. He is allowed
to fuck himself with toys and I even got a machine that I turn on really slowly
and I keep him edging for a few hours while I tease him. I’ve told him that I will allow him to see
other Dommes and even date other women but he’s okay with the situation as it
is. Seeing as we are in full confession
mode I have to tell you that it turns me on to get him in that sub space where
he craves stimulation. I do get
aroused. I make sure I release all that
arousal allllll over you when we are together but Todd is not the only one
getting pleasure from our little sessions.”
Andre got up and walked around
the small apartment. He was trying to
collect his thoughts. Even though Todd
had seen pictures of Andre seeing him in person was a little overwhelming in
real life. They made a beautiful
couple. The man pacing back and forth
made love to the woman of his dreams, it was hard to wrap his mind around. Todd felt something emotional welling up
inside him but it wasn’t exactly jealousy.
It was pride. There was joy in
knowing that his Mistress was happy, that she had found someone so much like
her that complimented her. If there were any feelings of jealousy, it
was in his desire to see what was beneath that dress shirt and slacks that fit
his toned body.
Andre cleared his throat. “OK, how do you say it, full confession
mode? Alright, I have some confessing
to do too. I’ve been . . . there have
been a few . . . I know some white guys who love to take a walk on the wild
side, or the dark side if you will. At
every point in my life I’ve had white men trying to get in my pants. When I was in college, the coach of the
football team would bend over the desk and beg to get pounded. Shit, my roommate sucked me off every
night. Whenever I’m single, I know I can
always go online and within a few hours, meet up with some white guy who is
willing to suck me off with no strings attached. I used to know this couple and the guy wanted
to watch while I fucked his wife but that didn’t do it for me so much. Fucking white women is not that great
compared to sistas.”
Todd chuckled, “Ain’t that
right,” and they shared a bonding moment.
“If I’m being fully honest,” Andre
continued, “I love the power of having white men service me, bow to me. I’ve often tried to do what you guys are
doing here but on a much smaller scale.
I’ve tried to get white men to see my humanity, not objectify me when
they are down there on their knees, sucking my dick. I tell
them about what it means to be a Black man, that it is much more than having a big
dick, but I’ve never invested any time in them.
I’ve never wanted anything to do with them after I get my nut. I’ve never met anyone like Todd though,
that’s for sure. It makes sense that I’m
clearly not the only Black man being serviced by white men and I know it’s
extremely prevalent I just never, I mean you just never hear anything about it
in the media so it’s easy to believe that it’s isolated and rare if you don’t
examine and think about it.”
In the blink of an eye, things
went from zero to sixty. Asali stood up
and kissed Andre. She was turned on by
his revelations, by the ease with which he was able to share his history with
her. She was aroused because she had
spent months fantasizing about him joining her and Todd and them dominating him
together: she the psychological manipulatrix who was able to arouse him with
just a whisper and Andre who was willing to lend his Hershey colored temple of
perfection to be worshiped and adored while she watched. This was her kinky dreams come true.
She pulled away and turned her
head to Todd. “Todd, meet your new Daddy.” Andre, still caught up in the rapture of her
sweet, seductive kiss, squeezed her ass playfully, speaking in their non-verbal
code that he was down for anything and everything that she had in mind. He loved her.
He, like Todd, wanted anything that made her happy.
Todd responded to the sound of Asali’s
sexy voice like a Pavlovian dog, his breathing got quicker and the nerve
endings in his body were on full alert and his mouth salivated. He loved seeing her aroused.
“Come with me,” she said and she
pulled Andre along behind her as she went to the bedroom door. She gave instructions before opening
it. “The rules are the same for you as
they are for my sweet submissive. You
don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, no always means no, and there
are no judgements within these walls.”
She probably had to explain those
rules to the other people that entered the room but he and she had been lovers
for a while, he understood her in all her complex and beguiling wonder. He was trusting that she understood the
reason for his deception was based on the same fear of rejection that she had
had with him. He was reasonably assured
that she was not going to think less of him if he revealed a past that was not
100% what he had previously admitted to.
He had butterflies in his stomach but his hardening erection worked to
distract him just a bit.
Inside the room it was just as he
had imagined. There was a large,
queen-sized bed on the right side of the room, clearing the way for the rest of
the space that had sex toys and equipment set up all over. There was what was the equivalent of a dog’s
bed at the foot of the bed. Andre
pointed and asked, “Is that where you sleep?”
Todd shook his head no. “I used to.
I mean, I would sleep there when Ma’am would sleep here or when we had
company. But she hasn’t slept her in a
long time and Mistress told me that it was fine if I slept in the bed every
night, that she didn’t mind. She’s
always been so thoughtful and generous that way. It’s one of the reasons I fell in luuhhhhhvvv
. . .” His words trailed off into the ethosphere. He knew he had overstepped his boundaries. Sure, he and Andre had bonded but his role
was as a submissive, not a lover. He
never wanted his Queen to know that he loved her because he didn’t want her to
be burdened with such unnecessary information.
She would never love him back and he knew it. It was an unrequited love that tortured his
every waking thought but it was also the same impetus to the sweet imprisonment
of eternal servitude at the feet of the one he adored more than any other.
Sensing his discomfort, Asali
tilted his eyes towards her, lifting his chin with her finger. “I’ve known you loved me from the day I told
you that you belonged to me. It was
pretty easy to figure out. Listen . . .
I love you, too. With that, she leaned
over and kissed him on the forehead.
Ten thousand volts of electricity
shot through Todd’s body. The world
could end in that second and he would die the happiest man on earth. He was in a daze. He wasn’t even entirely sure what
happened. All he knew was his very next
conscious experience was watching Asali and Andre making love on the bed in
front of him. He was nude, restrained in
chastity, nipple clamps firmly in place, and one of his vibrating butt plugs
was in his ass. Asali had never had sex
with anyone in front of him before. It
was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life.
It was exactly as if Todd was
living the experience through Andre, like their consciences got mixed up
somehow and Todd could look down and see and feel what Andre was
experiencing. He could feel the warmth
of her lips as he kissed them and the fullness of her magnificent breasts
capped by protruding rock-hard nipples that were created to be sucked. In the heat of the moment they changed bodies
and Andre gifted him with the opportunity to experience Heaven on Earth. Every thrust he gave her, burying his dick in
the deep recesses of her exquisite universe, was him giving his heart his soul and
his love and feeling her wet, hot, slippery, frothy love being given in
return.
Andre was purposed. He had become masterful at reading Asali’s
body and crafting his love-making around her responses. Her moans told him everything he wanted to
know in a covert code of grunts and groans that translated to how much pleasure
she was experiencing. Soft whimpers let
him know that she was luxuriating in the sensations and wanted them to last as
long as possible. Loud breathing meant
that she was climbing the ladder of ecstasy and craved more stimulation. Feral, hedonistic grunts of un- intelligible
origins signaled that she was in a primal state between the throes of pure,
unadulterated pleasure and cosmic, orgasmic bliss.
Asali rode him. She rode him hard. She was taking her own pleasure and nothing
could stop her. Todd stood
mesmerized. The room filled with the
scent of her wet pussy and sweat and pheromones. Breathing deeply, intoxicated and bewildered,
Todd’s soul ached. Before his eyes, he
could see his Mistress cumming, impaling herself on the erect staff of her true
Ebony King. Exhausted, she fell to the
bed; exhausted and satisfied.
Andre, satisfied and drained
sexually and emotionally but still unfulfilled physically, signaled for Todd to
kneel at his feet as he stood. It was Todd’s
turn to whimper and moan. He knelt
before the powerful man and looked up.
He dare not make a move until told to do so. Andre’s dick was beautiful: thick and long
and standing proud and tall. With his
hands on his hips he directed Todd, “SUCK IT!”
Trembling, light-headed, Todd
reached for that dick and held it in his white hand. The contrast in coloring was amazing to
him. Even in the darkness of the evening
light, he could clearly see the glistening juices of his Mistress thickly
coating the entire length of that gorgeous penis. His tongue came out of his parted lips and
touched the silky glans of his new Daddy.
Salty, sweet precum mixed with heady, earthy lady-cum and filled his
taste buds. Todd licked like a puppy
licks his brand new owner’s face on Christmas morning. He wanted to taste every drop. As many times as he’d imagined it, as many
times as he had fantasized about tasting his Mistress’ pussy, never had he
imagined it would taste like such sublime joy.
Todd transitioned from licking to
full-on sucking rather smoothly. Before
long, he was handling it like a pro, like he had been trained, and practiced,
and he loved to do. He used all his
skills. He wanted to please Asali and Andre
equally. He wanted her to know that he
had been worth the investment and that he appreciated everything she had given
him, made him into being. He wanted to
please him because he wanted his new Dom to enjoy being serviced and pleasured
by a white man, to want more, to feed him that dick and let him swallow that
cum all the time. He wanted to be a slut
for his new Daddy.
Andre was blown away for the
second time in one night. Meeting a
white man who had the racial sensitivity and consciousness of the most ardent
Black activist and academic was mind-blowing.
Having that same white man on his knees in front of him and giving him
head that was blowing his mind as he was about to blow his wad was too much to
process. Andre gently started fucking
his face, not brutally at all, but he clearly took control.
Todd’s senses were on
overload. In a parallel, surreal universe
this could never happen. But it was
happening, here and now. And just when
he thought things couldn’t get any better, he felt her presence kneeling
directly behind him. Her moist, naked
flesh pressed against his back. Her
nails pinched his nipples. She whispered
in his ear, “Suck that beautiful dick for me.
Show me how you love it. Show me
how much you need it. Prove to Dre that
you love sucking his heavy, thick, hard, Ebony column.”
Todd did just that. He sucked that dick and put the most
enthusiastic female cocksucker to shame.
Andre spurred him on. “Yeah, suck
that cum out of my balls. You want this
cum? You want it? Work for it.
Show me that you love the feel of my dick in your mouth. Of fuck, that’s it. Come on.
I’ve got a nice bigggggg . . . Ohh shiiiit.”
Todd didn’t miss a drop.
As with most fairy tales, they
all lived happily ever after. But it
wasn’t the end. It was just the
beginning in fact. Andre, Todd, and Asali
embarked on an erotic journey together.
One that would push all their boundaries and have them re-define their
limits.
Copyright 2015 AfroerotiK All
Rights Reserved
