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.

Wednesday, June 24, 2020

Inextinguishable Flame

     I wrote this story in 2005.  It was, up until last night, one of the stories that was going to be published in my groundbreaking and seminal work, In Loving Color.  In Loving Color remains my artistic and creative pièce de résistance.  In Loving Color  is a coffee table book of erotic images and stories and it will be the foundation of a global erotic revolution, it will usher in a new age of Black Sexuality and how we communicate and relate to one another intimately and erotically  

This story was, for 15 years in fact, the most important story I've ever written.  It is one of only 2 or 3 stories I've ever written that is about me: the names have been changed to protect the innocent but the events NEVER happened.  This story was my healing salve, it was my hope for a brighter future with this man I loved but who was incapable of loving me in any sort of healthy way at the time.   

      "Elijah" and I have long since moved on.  He's married now and I pray he's happy.  I've been in a few relationships since I wrote this story.  I'm currently working hard to heal my issues and find love that is evolved, enlightened, and unapologetically  AfroerotiK. I think this story should be acknowledged and recognized for helping me believe in my own happily ever after but I don't want to hold on to the energy of attracting Elijah back into my life.  I decided that I'm going to write a new story for the book; one based on all that I've learned and how I've evolved in the past 15 years.  This story is beautiful.  I want to  share it with the world, with you, with the hopes that it can spark the dialogue needed to help us heal.  It is my prayer that you receive my story with the intent with which it was written.  Thank you sincerely and humbly for taking the time to share my world. 

There was a commotion outside Robbie Scott’s office at Nubian Entertainment.  She could hear the excited voice of her assistant getting more and more animated.  Robbie pressed the button on the intercom to inquire about the drama.  

“I’m terribly sorry Robbie but there’s a gentleman here who insists that you’ll want to see him.  He doesn’t have an appointment but he won’t take no for an answer.  I’m calling Security now so they can escort him out.”  

“Ebony, who on earth is it?”  Robbie had no clue who would be that anxious to see her as she stayed under the radar for the most part.  She coveted her privacy and nothing was going on in her personal or professional life that would warrant such urgency. Glancing at her calendar, she didn’t have any appointments so she was intrigued why anyone would be so insistent.

“He says his name is Elijah Ringer and that he’s an old friend of yours.”

For the briefest of moments, time stood still.  

It had been many years since Robbie had seen her old lover and arch nemesis.  Robbie sunk back in her leather chair and closed her eyes.  Her heart began to race and she felt that telltale jolt of electricity that was the standard Robbie/Elijah dynamic.  She was tempted to say that she was unavailable but before she knew it she said softly, “Please . . . uhmmm send . . . send him in,” the words catching in her throat like shards of glass.  

He closed the door behind him and stood across the expansive office, making intense eye contact with his piercing, expressive, dark eyes.  His face lit up and he flashed a smile that showed his enormous dimples.  Robbie stood to greet him and felt her knees weaken.  She silently cursed herself for her genetic weakness for this man as he approached her.  

“She’s quite a little firecracker.  Very protective.  That’s good.”  He moved closer to her.  “Well, well, well, Roberta Mae!  It’s good to see you.”  His voice sounded soothing to her soul as he walked slowly around her desk to embrace her.  “You aren’t going to hit me, are you?” he joked. He put his arms around her waist.  “Here, give me a hug,” and he pulled her close without her permission.  

Every nerve in Robbie’s body was alive with energy as she felt his hands on the small of her back.  “My 94 year old grandmother is the only one who is allowed to call me that, you know that, right,” she whispered semi-seductively in his ear. 

Elijah was in awe of the electricity that flowed through his body in the presence of his long-time friend and long-lost lover.  She fit into his arms perfectly and they stood motionless for what seemed like an eternity but what was only seconds.  There was a glitch in the time and space continuum and every sensation was as if they were transported back in time to practically 20 years earlier when they first became lovers.  He caressed her back and nuzzled his full lips against her neck.  

Sensing herself falling into a familiar pattern, Robbie pushed him away and invited him to sit down on one of the sofas that decorated her contemporary office with her characteristic Afrocentric flair.  She closed the blinds to prevent anyone’s prying eyes and the errant opportunity for the office gossip spreading all of her personal business to the tabloids.  Robbie sat with a lot of distance between them and her body language showed her discomfort.  She wasn’t even sure what to say.  

 The thing that made Robbie and Elijah so dynamic together was their ability to communicate verbally as well as non-verbally on a deep level.  They could finish each other’s sentences and talk for hours about deep philosophical issues.  They would approach a topic from opposite perspectives and both could be equally as articulate in their positions.  When the debate was said and done, they would make love passionately as if their mental sparring only spurred their passions.  Oddly enough, their downfall was their different ideas of what constitutes a relationship, their polar opposite dreams, goals, and objectives.  It never failed that they just couldn’t work things out between them.  It was the universe’s little practical joke on them.  

Content to make small talk, Robbie inquired, “What brings you to town?  What have you been up to?  How are the children?  You certainly look fantastic!”  Robbie had a string of questions intended to get a mental picture of what his life had been like since they had last seen each other.  Shortly after they parted not so amicably, Robbie’s career took off in ways she could have never imagined so much of her story was known to him.  She knew nothing of what had happened to him.  Elijah answered all her questions in the order they were given.  He had the need to create a comfort zone for her because the last time they had spent time together had been one filled with tension and animosity.  

“I’m here to seal a real estate deal and visit friends.  I’ve settled down extensively since the last time we spoke.  Would you believe that Craig is on his way to England to study abroad and Misha is in cheerleading camp as we speak?  I couldn’t be more proud of them.  But, how are you?  I’ve followed your meteoric success.  I always knew you would be phenomenally successful.  I’m very proud of you.”

“Yes,” she looked around her office and at the magazine covers with her image on them that decorated the walls and little statuettes from various academies in recognition of her extraordinary screenwriting efforts.  “I’m doing a little better today than I was the last time I saw you when I was crashing at your place with $10.00 to my name and an idea for a movie.  I’ve done okay for myself.  I owe you for your hospitality and sharing your home with me when I was penniless.  What can I do to repay you?”  Her voice trailed off, reflecting on the way things ended with them: the anger, the hostility, the disappointment that she could never be the type of woman he needed her to be, and the pain of betrayal when he replaced her with multiple lovers in the time span of hours after she’d gone.  

Elijah was calm as he made it very clear that he wanted absolutely nothing from her in repayment. He could see the pain on her face and he felt consumed with guilt. “You don’t owe me anything.  In fact, it’s me who owes you.  I owe you an apology for the things I’ve done, for the way . . .” Now, it was his time for his voice to trail off.  Robbie, without thinking, reached out to touch his hand and she moved closer.  He regained his composure and he continued.  “You look beautiful.  I’ve never seen you look more radiant.”  

For the first time in years, Robbie saw the look in his eyes of a man that was taken with her.  It was a bittersweet sensation because she had longed for that look for so many years, she’d craved his affection and he withheld it for so long, preferring women with high maintenance demeanors to her decidedly low maintenance aesthetic.  Even with her newly acquired wealth, she was still erring on the side of simplicity, choosing to wear understated Afrocentric attire and still sporting her signature low haircut, only now she just had visible strands of gray she wore proudly.  Her body was still the same, if not better, and she hadn’t aged a day, in fact, she might have looked younger than when he last saw her, good living having its benefits and all.  

Elijah had changed his appearance drastically and he’d never looked better either.  His husky frame was gone.  He was in the shape of a man half his age and dressed in a sophisticated style of urban chic clothing but most striking was his carriage and demeanor.  He had an air of peace and serenity that seemed to ooze from his being and that filled the space around him. 
“I’m very sorry about your loss.  I wanted to send my condolences but I figured I would be the last person you wanted to hear from at the time.  I can only imagine that it’s very difficult having your life in the news at a time like that.  Know that you were in my prayers the entire time,” he said solemnly.  

Robbie looked at the family photo that sat on the coffee table of she and her late husband and their three children.  “You know, I’m at peace now.  He loved me in a way that I’d only dreamt about.  We had three of the most beautiful children in the world and for that I’m infinitely blessed.  He’s all around me, supporting me and loving me without the hindrance of his body.  A year ago, I thought I was going to die, but now, I know joy for having had the experience that most women can’t even imagine.  We had a wonderful, magical fairytale for our lives.”  

Robbie sat silently and reflected on the tragic demise of her late husband, Jason Vancouver, the famed director.  There had been an uprising in Sudan while they had been there doing research for a film.  Jason was doing a documentary on the Sudanese Liberation Movement/Army in Darfur and the acts of genocide that had taken place there.  Robbie was there to lend her assistance and document the stories and take oral histories from the victims while Jason was in the trenches, interviewing soldiers and government officials and radical dissidents.  Insurgent forces had been expanding their territory.  Jason got wind that there was to be an all out revolution and he made plans for he and Robbie to leave the country, fly to Europe, and then home to the States.  They were past the checkpoints and waiting for a flight at the airport when a soldier questioned Jason’s papers one last time.  There was a struggle for the film and Jason got hit in the head with the butt of a rifle and died three days later, never regaining full consciousness.  The government’s official account was that Jason ran into the rifle and his death was to be considered an accident.  Clutching the film, Robbie had to be smuggled out of the country in the false bottom of a pickup truck.  

Robbie’s three children were the reason she kept on living.  Their oldest child, Jamie, was adopted.  He was born deaf and he joined them when he was 6 years old.  At 12, he was one of the most brilliant children ever, hearing impaired or not.  His strength, love and insight helped Robbie make it through the darkest of nights.  Their middle child was actually Jason’s son from a previous relationship.  Tefari’s mother had died during childbirth in a freak complication that was far too common for women of color in a supposed first-world nation.  Robbie had known Tefari since he was two years old and she was, for all intents and purposes, the only mother he had ever known.  Their youngest was Daddy’s little girl, Malika, a child born to Robbie and Jason that made him more proud than any other accomplishments in his life.  

Coming back to the moment, Robbie commented, “You told me a long time ago that I would find the one, and I most certainly did.  I’m incredibly blessed for having been loved in that way.” 

Elijah leaned over; time stood still.  He tilted her face to his and said, “All I’ve ever wanted was your happiness and it does my heart good to know that you found it.  My only regret is that I wasn’t the man who could be what you were looking for.”

Robbie got visibly upset and stood quickly. Coughing and clearing her throat to distract him from the fact that she was a hot mess, a hot damn mess. “Well.  Alrighty then.  I have to get back to work, it was nice seeing you.  Do be sure to look me up when you are in town again.  Maybe we’ll do lunch.”

Elijah realized he had overstepped his boundaries and he apologized as he made his way to the door.  The relationship between the two of them had been full of pain and heartache, mostly because of his lying and manipulative ways.  Relationship really wasn’t the best word to describe what they had shared; it was better described as a tumultuous, fucked-up, more off than on, clash of wills. 

 Elijah had taken great pains to make sure that he fed Robbie with the bullshit needed to keep her in his life for very short periods of time and alienate her for very long periods of time when he tired of her and had found someone else to entertain him.  He took even greater pains to make sure that she remained in the status of fuck buddy and nothing more, never girlfriend, never even really lover because that would imply some level of commitment and/or respect.  Elijah loved himself.  He loved the way Robbie made him feel.  Sexually of course, they were compatible but Robbie was different mentally, emotionally, she was fare more intellectual and political than 99% of the women he usually dated, the ones that deserved the title of girlfriend in his eyes.  Robbie wasn’t like anyone else he knew and he couldn’t describe or even understand himself what kept him tied to her.  She was a challenge to him for sure.  He didn’t want to be with her but he needed her to be strung out over him so she could be there to stroke his ego, and his swollen member, whenever he was in the mood for their particular brand of deep, cerebral, intellectual exchange.  

Robbie, on the other had, had always held out hope that the two of them would somehow be able to work out their differences and form this fabulous bond.  She knew deep in her heart that he was using her but she thought he was masking a greater fear he had inside, the fear of being vulnerable, of being hurt.  For almost a decade, throughout all the drama and lies, it was her belief that she could help heal him from a terrible pain he held inside, an unpaid karmic debt of callous manipulation and deception he had earned from living and breathing every day as a Black man in a land that despises them, and then they would finally come together to share this magical, transcendent love.  After she’d cried too many tears, after she’d ached inside too many times, she realized that only Elijah could heal Elijah, and only after she realized that she needed to heal herself was when she made the decision to move on.  Within a year of cutting the emotional ties that bound them so intricately and dysfunctionally, while she was working on her first film, she found and married a man that was everything she had ever hoped for and more.  

Elijah apologized again and stood in silence as he saw Robbie in a light that he’d never seen her before.  The years apart had transformed him and now he could see a reflection of himself in her.  It wasn’t her new wealth and status, she was far too down to earth and he had evolved past his need to have a woman that was some sort of status symbol on his arm.  Standing in her office that day, he saw her with his veil of illusion lifted and beheld a magnificent thing of beauty personified in Robbie.  It was her integrity and insight, her uncompromising dedication to create social change and a relentless and undying ability to love that made her so breathtaking.  He saw her that day as a sista with unparalleled integrity and a mother of a movement to educate and enlighten.  She walked him to the door and they hugged again briefly before he turned to leave.

He held the doorknob in his hand before he turned it to leave and asked without turning back, “Are you seeing anyone?”  

“Well, uhmmm . . . Yes . . . actually, I’ve just recently started dating again and I’ve met someone very nice.  We’re in the beginning stages of course but I like everything I see so far.”  

Elijah looked back and said, “He’s a very lucky man.  And be sure to let him know that if he ever messes up, he’ll have to answer to me.”  

They smiled at each other and she turned her back to him and walked back to her desk.  She heard the door close as she had to practically grab for her desk to keep from falling.  She hated lying about seeing someone but she had to protect her heart.  She had spent way too many sessions on a therapist’s sofa trying to figure out why she had tolerated Elijah’s emotional abuse and their co-dependent, unhealthy relationship.  She was not, under any circumstances, going to allow herself to fall back into that same pattern again.  While he seemed different, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was different herself.  She had known love, true love, and there was no way in heaven or hell that she was going to let even the hint of Elijah Ringer back in her life to bring more pain.  

Nubian Entertainment had grown from a small movie production company to a huge, mega million dollar corporation overnight.  Well, only if overnight can be defined as the better part of 7 years Robbie spent pounding the pavement and banging on doors begging for someone, anyone to give her a shot at making an atypical movie about Black love.  With an Oscar nod on her first film under her belt, Nubian began producing some of the most exceptional and groundbreaking Black-written, directed, produced, and acted top-grossing films and TV shows ever.  It was a classic rags-to-riches story for the books, coming from nowhere and blossoming into a powerhouse in the entertainment industry.  The fact that it was headed up by a woman who was outspoken and controversial, becoming notorious based on the fact that she was such an uncompromising creative genius and housed in the consciousness of an activist and with the mind of an Ivy league professor was the real kicker.  

It all started with a screenplay that Robbie had written that was an outlet for her about her relationship with Elijah.  It touched the heart of people everywhere.  Black women adored the sentiment and the brutal honesty about things that had never been said before and brothas used the movie to spark much needed dialogues about the role of Black men in relationships and feelings and shit that Black men are never allowed to discuss lest they expose some vulnerability.  White people loved it too.  They were fascinated by the peek into Black culture that wasn’t normally represented in the media; it was eye-opening to them to see so many articulate and educated Blacks displaying aspects of themselves that weren’t ghetto and stereotypical.  Well, that and the hot and steamy sex scenes didn’t hurt either.  

From there, everything Robbie touched turned to gold.  There was buzz that she was on her way to becoming the next Oprah, with rumors of her own talk show, books, a record label, the possibilities were endless. 

For days following their encounter, Robbie would be startled by the phone every time it rang; secretly hoping it was Elijah, cursing herself for wanting it to be him at the same time.  Soon enough, relatively at least, she had settled back into her routine with the tentative assurance that he had slipped in and out of her life without incident.  She should have known better given their history but she was hoping against hope that the dynamics had changed.  She was not to be that lucky. 

As time went on, she put Elijah in the back of her mind and went about her business.  Robbie was meeting with a location scout to look at locations for a movie set.  They needed a hotel for a set that could be transformed into one of the Harlem Renaissance for a long-awaited and controversial movie about Langston Hughes.  They had narrowed down the choices to the top three and it was a day trip to see the actual locations with the director to scope angles.  The second hotel they saw was a newly renovated hotel that was yet to be re-opened for business.  The Director was in love with it the second he walked through the doors.  Robbie looked over the specs and was comfortable with the cost.  She called the contact number for Red River Reality to see if they could send over a contract immediately.  

The person on the other end of the phone answered “This is Elijah, how can I help you today?”  Robbie almost dropped her phone and she felt her stomach turn. 

“Ringer!”  She was furious.  “How the hell did you work this out?”  She was pissed off and had the familiar feeling that she had been manipulated yet again.

“Calm down Rob, relax.  You know, it’s amazing what sort of information Ebony will drop if you ply her with Godiva and a gift certificate to Moshood.  All I did was submit my location through the proper channels.  I was taking a chance it would be right for what you needed.” 

Robbie hung up the phone, fuming mad and ready to fire Ebony on the spot.  First, she tried to convince the director to consider another location but that was not going to happen.  She told the location scout to handle all the details for this aspect of the shoot.  She walked outside and realized she was being nothing less than irrational.  She took a deep breath and headed back to her office.  

She had calmed down considerably by the time she had walked past Ebony’s desk so she was no longer tempted to tell her to pack her things and go.  She knew how persuasive Elijah’s dimples and eyes could be.  It was all good, the film had gotten the perfect location and there was no harm done.  She had resolved to herself that it was all innocent business deal that Elijah had engineered with no ulterior motives whatsoever.  The plan was that she was going to call him back immediately and offer an apology.

That plan would have worked too if there hadn’t been four dozen calla lilies on her desk when she opened the door.  She read the card that said, “Ebony also spilled the beans that there is no man in your life . . . yet!  Love, E.”  

Robbie had no choice but to laugh.  They flowers were her favorite and it was the first romantic gesture that Elijah had ever made towards her.  She called him back to thank him for the flowers and apologize for her earlier rudeness and he answered the phone by saying, “Go out to dinner with me tonight.”  

“You arrogant son of a bitch,” she said as sweetly as those words could be said.

“Yeah, so I’ll pick you up at seven?  Does that sound good to you?”  He was obviously not going to take no for an answer.

“Did Ebony give you my address as well?” 

“She sho’ did.  You really need to reprimand her about that.  Good help is so hard to find  See you at seven then.”

     She was flattered by the effort he made but she was cautious that his new attention had a lot more to do with her financial portfolio than his genuine feelings for her.  It’s a lot easier to love a person who has millions than someone who can only afford to eat Ramen noodles every other day for sustenance.  Just like days of old, she wanted to believe in him.  She wanted to have faith in the connection that they had shared and she wanted to believe that he had feelings for her from a place that was deeply encoded in their DNA, a bond they shared since the minute they laid eyes on one another what seemed like a thousand years ago.  Once she had come to the realization that Elijah’s selfish motives all those years ago were truly malicious, a part of her love for him died.  It was a part of her heart that had to remain dead lest she be faced with the same hurt all over again.  She told herself that it would be one dinner; she would prove to herself that she was strong enough to resist the ineffable connection and let him leave her life on friendly terms rather than the hurt and pain that had been typical for them for so many years.  

     He was prompt when the concierge called and announced his arrival and let him up.  She made him wait a few minutes and emerged wearing a little black dress that worked to show off every bit of her personally-trained body.  Elijah held a single calla lily and extended it to her as he kissed her on the cheek gently.  He prayed a silent prayer that he would be able to communicate everything he wanted to say as they headed off for the restaurant.  

     It’s funny that all those years earlier he had been searching for a woman that was the center of attention and here he was with a woman that commanded more attention than any woman he had ever dated.  It wasn’t because she was rich, famous, and beautiful; although there was no denying that fact, it was because she was an outspoken activist and natural born leader dedicated to shattering the negative and stereotypical depictions of African Americans.  Elijah realized how incredibly blessed he was to have had such an amazing woman in his life at all and knowing that she had given her love to him freely, even though he didn’t deserve it at the time, was enough to humble him to silence once again.  Now, the only thing he sought in a partner was that level of comfort and acceptance she had shown him all those years ago.  He sought the pure and innocent love he had known from Robbie that he so heartlessly discarded in the past that held a higher vision for him when all those around him fed into his illusions.

     As they ordered dinner, he began the tale of his transformation.  When they last saw each other, Elijah was on a path of self-destruction and fast.  “Rob, I was out of control at that stage in my life and it seemed like every time I tried to run from my truth you were there asking me to look inside myself.  Every time you tried to make me be introspective, I struck out at you, I hated you for it.  I pushed you away all those times because I didn’t know how to deal with me, how to come clean emotionally.  I didn’t even think I had emotions truth be told.  I thought emotions were chick stuff.”  

     “After you left my place . . . I mean like when your movie came out, I was so pissed at you I didn’t care if I saw you again ever in life.  I had spent weeks telling everyone I knew that you were my friend and how you had written your movie while you were staying with me.  Then when I saw that you had called me out as a playboy and a liar in the flick, I called you every bitch in the book and went on damage control convincing all my friends who suspected that the guy in the movie was actually me that you were a lunatic and that I never had any feelings for you.  You were dead to me from that point on; I didn’t care if I saw you ever again in life.”  

     He continued, “I hate to admit it but your depiction of me in the movie was accurate.  Truth is, I was chasing so many women; I was lying to all of them, never giving myself completely to any of them.  I wouldn’t even admit the truth to myself.  In my defense, I was so oblivious to how destructive my life was because I didn’t know any other way.  In my mind and in my heart, I saw the world as flawed and I was the only person that got it right.  I had constructed this complex set of rules and I was confident that they held the key to the universe, never once imagining that they were the reason I was hurting deep inside.  You couldn’t have told me that anything was wrong with me because I was convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was a good Black man and that I had no role in creating pain in anyone else’s life.  I didn’t even realize that I was creating pain in my own life with my behaviors.  Lying came so natural to me that I didn’t even know how to be completely truthful with anyone, let alone myself.  I never felt whole inside so I would lead women down this path of pretending to be everything they wanted and then blame them when they fell for the empty façade.”  

     “I had a lot invested in maintaining my persona of perfection.  I mean I was the one that everyone would come to for advice because I was supposed to be so together.  I would council people and preach about the evils of everyone else and never let on that I was guilty of the exact same things I would admonish other people for.  I had everyone convinced I was wise and had nothing but sensible advice, even myself, but there was something nagging inside me that knew the truth.  I would console women about how they needed to let go of these married and cheating men in their lives and I was dating married women left and right, getting a thrill from it, never having to be emotionally available to them.  I was pursuing women, cheating on them and all the while telling them that I was a reformed cheater and how men who cheated were less than scum.  I’ve lived a foul, double life that I’m not proud of.”  

     He went on in what was obviously a semi prepared speech to get everything off his chest.  “There were so many pregnancies and abortions and paternity tests, HIV tests that I should have taken but didn’t, there were so many tears and broken, bitter women everywhere I turned.  Every time I would come out of another drama, I would swear that I would never let it happen again; I was convinced I was choosing the wrong women.  Real talk, I was convinced all women were damaged; I didn’t see women as whole human beings, I saw them as things to entertain and please me.  I would promise myself to be even more emotionally unavailable to women, thinking that would protect me even more.  The women I loved didn’t love me, they used me and I played into it because I equated love with abuse.  The women that loved me I didn’t know how to love and I took advantage of what they gave me.”

     “I’ve hurt so many people but the person I hurt the most was you.  I took pleasure in hurting you on some level because you loved me the most.  At the time, I wasn’t even self-aware enough to know that I was doing it but in retrospect, I can honestly say that I was afraid of you because you saw parts of me that no one else had ever seen.  You knew my secrets and you still loved me.  You saw a picture of me from angles no one else even knew existed.  Every time you saw through my pretenses, you still loved me.  I resented you for that because I couldn’t love myself at the time and wanted you to feel as much hurt as I felt deep inside.  I think back on how supportive you were of me and I treated you like shit.”

     “Rob, I want to admit to you now that I’ve lied to you so much that it’s beyond your comprehension.  I’m so sorry.  I won’t blame you if you never forgive me and I will accept that as my punishment but I’m here to tell you that I’m so sincerely sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you.  I thought that not telling you the entire truth wasn’t the same thing as lying.  I thought my lies were protecting you from hurt and crying which in turn protected me from feeling guilty.  I want to come clean and tell you the truth about everything but it would be too much to list.  Everything you suspected was a lie really was and I just denied it with arrogance and would find perverse pleasure in telling myself that you were stupid for believing me.  I calculated everything, every single solitary thing I said to you.  It was like I was an actor playing myself in a play; everything was scripted for a purpose and that purpose was to ease my pain and get my dick wet and to hell with you or anyone that got hurt along the way.  I was masterful at pretending to be everything to everyone and I was denying who I was inside to myself.”

     “The only thing that was real, I promise you, was when I came to you in love, to make love, when I craved that connection.  I can swear to you that I was emotionally honest when I was inside you, and that scared the hell out of me.  At the time, I tried to tell myself that you just had some bomb ass pussy but I know now that I was drawn to that feeling of safety and security and love in those moments like I’ve never experienced before or since.  You created that space where I could let down my guard and be myself and feel real intimacy.  There was truth in that passion and I didn’t know how to deal with it.  I didn’t feel deserving of that feeling and I pushed you away to avoid dealing with my own feelings of inadequacy.  Yes, I can admit to using you but know that I experienced more love and bliss in those moments than you can imagine.  Your touch made me whole; your mouth was like heaven, being inside you was my sanctuary.  Roberta Mae Scott, if you know nothing else in life, know that the earth goes around the sun, know that E=Mc2, and know that I’m being truthful about the fact that I genuinely loved our connection.”
 
     Elijah wanted to go on with his confessions but he also wanted to make sure that Robbie was not on overload either.  Neither of them had touched their food and it was cold by now.  Robbie was listening intently, trying to take it all in and process it.  She was trying to be fully present and hear everything he said but she kept thinking of when she could call her best friend the second she got home.  Khadijah had been there for her since the first day of the Elijah Ringer relationship/tragedy, every step of the way, calling him every black mother fucker in the book when he would do something stank and drying Robbie’s unnecessary tears.  Robbie had failed to tell her about Elijah coming back into her life recently because she was sure she would catch holy hell for even speaking to him.  Robbie was half tempted to discretely reach in her purse and call Khadijah and let her listen to all of Elijah’s revelations live or at least record him so she wouldn’t have to try to recollect them at 1 in the morning but she didn’t want to betray his truthfulness either.  

     “Thank you for your honesty,” she said.  “I’m curious, what brought about this magical and alchemical transformation?  How do I know this is not just a monologue in the Elijah play to manipulate me again?  And what exactly is it that you want from me?  What’s the purpose of all of this?”  

     He signaled for the check and to take the food with them.  Once outside, he walked over to two homeless men and handed them the doggie bags of food.  He knelt down to actually speak to them.  He returned to Robbie’s side and apologized for his very brief absence.  She made a mental note of how his behaviors had changed because the Elijah of old that she knew would have just as soon spit on homeless people let alone given them the $100 meal he had just purchased and not touched.  He signaled for a horse-drawn carriage to take them through Central Park and told the driver to take his time.  

     He held her hand as she climbed in the carriage and for a brief second, they shared that magical connection again.  He placed his arm around her shoulder and they rode in silence for a few minutes.  He leaned over and kissed her for the first time in years and it was possibly more magical than any other kiss that they had ever shared.  It was tender and beautiful and Robbie kissed him back without fear or trepidation for reasons that weren’t even apparent to her.  His hands found his way to her soft thigh and he could feel the signs of his arousal beginning.  Robbie closed her eyes and her erect nipples could be seen through the material of her dress.  Elijah pulled back, not wanting to back out of the most important part of his confession at this late hour.  He began again with his taxicab confession.  

     “I wish I could tell you that I woke up one day and had this grand epiphany that made me change my ways.  I can’t even form my lips to tell you that lie.  I was as happy as a clam, or so I thought.  When they say ignorance is bliss, they ain’t bullshitting, I’m here to testify.  I was content in my fucked up reality and didn’t think there was a damn thing in the world wrong with me.  Boy did I get a wake up call.  I went on vacation about five years ago to Ghana and little did I know it was going to change my life forever.”  I felt a connection to a slave past there that was unlike anything I’ve ever read about, heard about, anything I’ve ever seen in any movie. It was like a hum, a vibration that allowed me to see into the past and how the pain my ancestors endured created the cycle of irresponsibility and lies in my life. It scared me.  I was so used to cutting off my emotions, denying I even had any, that I didn’t know how to process what I was feeling.”

I sat on the beach a lot, just staring out into the ocean, hoping the waves would wash away my pain.  It was the pain of my entire lifetime, everything that I had ever suppressed; it was the pain of every African that had ever passed through those god damn slave castles, and I was connected to it all somehow.”

Taking a deep breath, he said, “This man came up to me and sat right down next to me.  He asked me my name and told me that his name was Brother Ishmael Tettah.  I opened up to him in ways that I had never opened up to anyone before, a total stranger.  He listened, really listened without any judgment.  Before I knew what was happening, I was crying like a baby and he was holding me and hugging me right there on the beach.  I had never experienced that sort of loving touch from another man before.  It was like a father loving their child. I didn’t even know how to process it.  He told me that he could help me understand and heal all my pain.”        

     “He proceeded to tell me about myself in ways that I knew were impossible for him to know.  He told me about the pain I felt deep inside from not having a father, from having an emotionally abusive, narcissistic mother, from all the foul behavior that I had done to women.  It was as if he knew my story without even knowing me.  He told me it was time for me to ascend to my true role in life, and that I could no longer hide behind the veil of mediocrity.  He told me that I was on earth to be greater than I had allowed myself to be.”

Elijah stopped to see if Robbie was still with him.  She was hanging on his every word.  He went on.  “He told me that he had a place I could go for healing if I wanted to and before I knew what was happening, I was calling my job and telling that I wasn’t coming back as planned and that I couldn’t say exactly when I was going to be home.  I stayed in that place for six weeks, Rob, never leaving his side except to go back to the hotel and pack my things.  I spent the next month and a half initiated into a spiritual world that I hadn’t even known existed.  He taught me to feel the pain of my past and move through it, he taught me to access that place within me where I could forgive others and myself of all the things I thought I had done wrong and see that I was only doing what I was capable of with the fucked up tools I’d been given.  He opened my eyes to a perspective where I could see myself in everyone and everything.  He taught me what it was to be a man and how that didn’t have anything to do with the ridiculous rules I’d been perpetrating as truth, manhood had nothing to do with the distorted gender roles European men brainwashed us to believe were spiritual truths.  Manhood didn’t have a damn thing to do with fucking women which I would have said was the #1 reason at the time.”  

     “Brother Ishmael Tettah and the Etherean Mission took me to other realms, helped me find my vision and my voice.  The courses that others took months to learn I learned in hours.  He tutored me privately, showing me things that were impossible, and I mean im-fucking-possible.  I was enmeshed in rituals and ceremonies that took me from pain to power, taught me forgiveness, gave me freedom from fear, I released anger, and I gained the gift of gratitude.  I cried tears I didn’t know I could cry.  I boo hoo’d like a baby until there were no more tears to cry, until all the pain had been released.  I died there, Robbie, the old Elijah Ringer didn’t come home from that trip.  My life was literally transformed and I couldn’t go back to the way things were.  I was petrified to leave but at the end of my time there, he told me that it was my time to go and that I had everything I needed to fulfill my mission in life.  He told me that in order to fulfill my purpose in life I had to reconnect with my twin flame, my divine right partner and to learn how to love completely in order to truly be all that I could be.  He told me to go and continue to refine myself, he told me to work with due diligence on continuing to let spirit lead me to my true role as leader.”  

“Fast forward to today.  I’ve spent the last five plus years of my life in meditation and prayer, reading, studying martial arts, fasting, silencing my mind and raising my vibration to gain dominion over my universe and working like a Hebrew slave to occupy my time and ignore my loneliness.  I feel immense solitude at times because the things that amused me before seem trivial; the people I used to associate with are no longer vibrating on my level.  I’m working really hard to live up to my full potential and I’m just now grasping that it might be bigger than even I had previously imagined.”

     The carriage pulled up in front of Robbie’s building and they got out.  They stood staring in each other’s eyes for a moment.  Robbie was in a daze, not really sure she understood everything he was saying but feeling a certain peace that passeth understanding.  He pulled her in his arms and said, “Robbie, do you remember when we were sitting on my sofa and we were arguing about some stupid shit and I told you that I KNEW we had a greater purpose to fulfill.  I promised you on the day that we would reunite that we would become greater than we could ever be apart.  Today is that day, Robbie.  I’ve always told you that you would be in my life forever.  I’ve lost too many years and I’m not going to lose another second.  I love you.  You are my other half, without you I can't be all that I’m supposed to be.  Our love was gifted from God.  I’ve waited, not knowing how or when we would get back together simply knowing that the Creator would orchestrate our lives so that we could be reunited and live out our true purpose together.  I’m not complete without you and you aren’t complete without me.”

     Robbie pulled away and ran into her building, her eyes full of tears, not uttering a word.  Elijah stood stoic in the warm night air, empty and dejected, as he watched her crying form running away.  He was wracked with guilt for causing the woman he loved pain once again. 

The carriage driver said it all, “Damn bruh, you fucked up!”  

He got the notice the next day that the contract for the location was cancelled and Ebony had gotten a new set of balls and refused to let his calls through or tell him anything.  Elijah decided to finish up his business deals head back home with his well-deserved pain.  If it was even a fraction of the pain that Robbie had felt for all those years, he was ashamed for his part in perpetuating that intensity of agony.  He’d done all that he knew how to do and he was sure of one thing, that they had a mission to fulfill and this wasn’t the end of them.  

     The next morning Robbie had Ebony track Elijah down and find out where he was staying.  She went to his hotel with every intention of giving him a piece of her mind.  She knocked on the door and he answered, catching her completely caught off guard.  He was in a towel, fresh from the shower and in the midst of packing his things to leave.  His heart leapt in his chest when he saw her standing in the doorway.  He scrambled to put some clothes on to be respectful.  Robbie stopped him, assuring him that she would only be there a few minutes, and that she wanted to get a few things off her chest and she would be leaving.  He sat on the foot of the bed for what he was sure to be a severe  tongue lashing that he deserved.  

     Robbie unleashed her anger.  “How dare you imply that you and I are supposed to be together!  You have never given me anything but pain and heartache.  Jason loved me.  Jason never once tried to make me feel bad about myself, ridicule me, or disregard my feelings.  Jason cherished me and lifted me up to be the best I could be.  You have admittedly done nothing to me but lie and emotionally abuse me.  You disrespect me and the memory of my husband with all your bullshit about how you and I are meant to be together.  Fuck you!  I found my soul mate in my lifetime; you most certainly are NOT him.  You could never love me the way Jason did and I resent you for all that you’ve done to me in the past.  I resent you for your arrogance thinking that you can come in my life and tell me some cock-a-maimie story about how much you’ve changed.  I will not fall for your sob story.  You can kiss my entire black ass, all of it, ALL OF IT, if you think for one mother-fucking minute that I don’t recognize your game.  You know what Elijah Ellis Ringer, you have a nice life and play your games on some other woman cuz I ain’t the one.”  Robbie felt herself flush with an anger she hadn’t felt in years and emotionally drained but relieved she had spoken her mind.  “Fuck you,” she muttered under her breath as she turned to leave.

     Elijah’s eyes filled with tears and stayed focused on the floor.  Robbie put her hand on the doorknob, stopping for a second to regain her composure and focus her eyes through her own tears.  She heard his voice before she could make out the words that he was saying.  

     She turned and Elijah stood before her.  This was it.  This was the moment he had been preparing for for years.  This was the moment he had to let go of the rehearsed scripts and speak truth to power.  He pulled her close and whispered in her ear.  “Roberta Mae, I’m not claiming to be a perfect man and I know I’ve done you terribly wrong.  I don’t want to replace Jason in your life; I just want to be what you’ve always wanted me to be.  I’m asking for your forgiveness and a chance to start from scratch.  Isis, I’m begging you to look deeply in my eyes and see that I am your beloved Osiris; you’ve resurrected me anew with your faith and your love.  You saw me as I am now before I even existed.  Forgive me my trespasses and open your heart to the man that I am today.  Give me a chance to prove my love for you.  Let me be a sounding board when you want to vent your frustrations.  Let me work to pamper and spoil you in the places I caused pain and heartache previously.  I give you my word I will be truthful and faithful to you out of respect for my love for you.  I will let you have the right to make your decisions about us based on honesty.”  He pulled her closer and kissed her passionately.  

     She pushed him away and tried to leave again but she was frozen in her tracks.  She didn’t want to go.  She was caught up in a whirlwind of electricity and emotions and deep in her gut, she wanted to stay and have him make love to her like they’ve never experienced before.  She had never stopped loving him, loving the brilliant, wonderful man that would reveal himself to her in those cherished moments that they’d shared alone.  She always wanted to love the exceptional man that she knew he could be.  She’d prayed all those years ago for the day when Elijah would be emotionally available and willing to pursue a relationship with her and it was here.  She had a choice to make, to decide if she would hold onto pain from the past or to accept this new Elijah, a truly new and improved version of the man she once loved, who now seemed to possess all of the things she was looking for in a partner.  She’d loved Jason with an all-encompassing love but her love for Elijah was equally as strong and powerful, yet different.  She knew she couldn’t deny that fact any longer and she looked in his eyes, this time with forgiveness, compassion, and genuine feelings of love in her heart.  

     In that moment, Elijah was aroused in a way that seemed to defy conventional wisdom.  He was aroused not because of lust but because of love.  He took her hand and put it on his towel and let it fall to the floor.  His dick stood out from his body proudly as she moved her hand instinctively to touch it.  He closed his eyes and let out a moan; her touch was perfect for him, she knew exactly how to caress him and he relished the sensation he hadn’t experienced since the last time they’d made love.  She stroked it softly, gripping it with the perfect pressure, using her fingers to coax the skin up and down and massaged the head with skill.  He was standing up but his legs felt shaky.  He was unsure of the next move he should make so he let her do her thing.  They maintained an intense eye contact as she softly stroked his erection and his breathing became more and more erratic.  She took hold of his balls and gently rolled them in her fingers and she knew she was taking him to his point of no return.  She leaned forward and licked his nipples softly and his knees really did buckle.  She increased the pressure on her upstroke and his eyes rolled back in his head because she was using the perfect pressure with her soft hands to work it out.  He had to stop her because he was going to shoot his load if she continued that sort of stimulation.  

     He kissed her again, softly, barely touching his lips to hers.  Their kisses grew more passionate, more hungered for one another as their tongues danced against one another and their lips sucked and kissed only the way they knew how.  His mouth found the sweet spot on her neck and he started sucking it.  She threw her head back and let him feast on her tender flesh.  His hands were all over her body, caressing her hips, thighs, back and ass.  He wanted to show off the body he had worked on and he was proud to be standing before her fully clothed frame with nothing on.  He pressed his body into hers, pushing her against the door.  She gasped for air as she wrapped her arms around his neck.  He grabbed her ass and lifted her up; she wrapped her legs around him and she whispered, “This feels so good but I’m terrified.  You used me.  You lied . . .”  Her voice cracked as she tried to push back her tears.  She wasn’t sure if they were tears of pain or emotional release. Finally, taking a deep breath, she decided that all she could do was be in the moment and let things flow. She looked at him with a lust in her eyes that said that she was ready for the experience of a lifetime.  

     Getting her undressed was the next order of business.  Elijah undid the buttons on her blouse.  Her luscious C cups sat beautifully in their black lace enclosure.  He knew all too well that her breasts were very sensitive and that stimulating her nipples could lead to orgasm if done just right.  Still unsure of what she was feeling and thinking, he stood and stared at her beautiful brown breasts, afraid to touch them.  They had been the source of endless nurturing and pleasure for him previously and he needed to feel the weight of them in his hands, to feel her hardened nipples in his mouth.  She looked him in the eye, and without movement or words, told him that it was okay to proceed.  

     Elijah undid the closure of her bra and stood in awe.  It was almost as if he’d forgotten what her breasts looked like even though they had been the object of his fantasies for several years.  Her dark and swollen nipples were calling for his mouth to devour them.  He lowered his mouth and sucked them exactly the way that she loved it.  He had not forgotten in all those years because it had always been the way he loved doing it.  It seems that their bodies, their desires and rhythms always perfectly complemented each other.  He knew the way to bring her pleasure with the soft and gentle caress of his tongue and the barely detectable sucking of his lips.  He felt her body respond in only the way she could to his touch and he was high with that feeling.  

     She grabbed her breast and fed it to him.  He uttered, “Rob, I’ve missed you so much.”  He was going from one nipple to the other, trying to get both in his mouth at the same time, and licking in between them and underneath that sexy curve where her titties joined her body.  

She was getting more and more responsive, telling him how much she loved it.  “You like that hard nipple in your mouth? Have you missed it? Suck it baby.  You know you’re getting me so wet with your mouth sucking on my nipples like that.”  Robbie and Elijah had a call and response that was unlike any two other lovers.  She would moan and groan and her body would surrender to his touch and they made fluid and passionate love to one another with just their hands and mouths alone.  

     Wanting to get more comfortable and really enjoy the process, Elijah took her hand and led Robbie to the bed.  She followed and stood still while he undressed her the rest of the way.  His hands caressed her curvy ass as he slid her skirt down.  He laughed inside, noting that she was wearing panties, knowing that she preferred to go au naturale in her more austere days of wearing little more than sarongs and sports bras.  Her long legs were defined and toned and he massaged them gently as he sat her on the bed to remove her shoes.  He massaged the sole of her delicate foot and brought it to his lips and kissed the arch softly.  Robbie laid back and luxuriated in the feeling of his mouth sucking and licking her toes.  She spread her legs and rubbed her pussy through the material of her panties as he continued to suck her toes, watch, and stroke himself.  

     He knelt at the foot of the bed as he slid her panties down her hips and over her legs.  She held her legs closed out of momentary fear and there was a very awkward pause when they just stared at one another.  All of her apprehensions came flooding back in that instant.  Elijah knew it was his moment of reckoning and there was no turning back.  He had to speak truth to power in that moment.  “Robbie, I crave your presence in my life.  I need you in a way that I didn’t know existed before right now.  We can stop right here and right now if you want.  I don’t have to make love to you today.  I’m willing to wait until you are completely comfortable.  Just know that I’m not going to give up on us, I’m going to prove to you that I can and will be all the man you need.  I love you.”  

     To deny their chemistry would be impossible so Robbie made a choice.  She was not going to feel regret or pain; she was going to rejoice in the moment that had been scripted before they were both born.  She kissed him, this time communicating with her kiss that there was no turning back.  He laid her back on the bed and began licking and kissing his way down her body.  He ran his tongue in the deep crevice of her belly button and paused as he reached her pubic bone.  He kissed her soft hair and spread her legs so that he could begin his banquet.  Her scent made his dick that much harder and he spread her lips to see the wetness that had already formed there.  Her clit was exposed and waiting to be sucked.  He just stared at her for a few minutes and took in the beauty of her soft, pink lips and Robbie was becoming desperate to feel his mouth on her and she was writhing around on the bed, pulling his head closer, anxious for sexual release with a man that knew her body intricately and knew all the buttons to push to make her scream with pleasure.   

     He lowered his mouth to her clit and began licking it.  Robbie arched her back and let out a hiss and felt her body convulse.  The tender way he licked her was enough to make her want to crawl out of her skin.  His tongue lightly stroked her spot and focused on circling it, not too much pressure, more like he wanted her to barely feel it.  She grabbed her erect nipples and began twisting them gently between her thumb and forefinger and she began chanting and telling him how good his mouth made her feel.  “Oh, I’ve missed your soft lips on my pussy like that.  Yes . . . It feels so good.  Taste me!”

     Elijah was trying his best to tune her out.  Her words had a way of driving him over the brink and making him want to ram himself inside her with one full stroke.  Tonight, he was going to make love to her slowly, sweetly and tenderly, in many ways symbolic of the first time they would ever really make love.  He backed off of licking her clit for a while and began licking her sweet juices as he was inserting his fingers in her tight hole.  He knew where her spot was located and he knew exactly the pressure and way to hit it to make her squirt.  He looked her in her eyes as he massaged the spot with skill and saw her body go into overdrive.  “Oh shit, that’s my spot, work my pussy, oh damn that feels so fucking good.”  Her profanity in bed was like music to his ears.  She’d always been explicit, never mincing words, never afraid to say exactly what was on her mind, in bed or out. 

     A sheen of perspiration formed on her smooth skin and the muscles in her stomach were tense.  She was transported back to a time when they would make love by the front door of her tiny apartment because they couldn’t even make it to the bedroom.  She was on the verge of orgasm and he could see her rising to her peak.  At precisely the right time, he stopped, causing her to cry out with frustration.  “Don’t stop,” she screamed, “please don’t stop, make me cum.  Eat me, finger me.  Let me nut right in your mouth.  Come on, I’ve got all this sexy juice for you, I know you want it, I know you want me to cum for you.”  

     Elijah went back to licking her clit, causing more cursing, more moaning.  Robbie grabbed his head in place, spreading her legs, opening herself up to him.  “Oh my God that feels so good, I love the way you lick my clit, suck it now.  Suck on the clit and make me shoot my hot cream in your mouth.” 

     Just as she was about to cum, just as she was about to feel that rush of release, Elijah stopped again.  “Fuuuuucckk,” she moaned, “why do you keep doing this to me?”  Her pleas were desperate and she wanted more.  He flipped her over and put her on her knees.  Her sexy ass was high in the air and she reached back to spread her ass cheeks, knowing full well that he would be turned on by how brazen her actions were.  He started eating her from behind Robbie was gripping the sheets and seemed to be like a possessed woman.  He kissed her asshole and made her moan loudly into the pillow.  She started thrusting her ass back at him, urging him to give her more.  He ate her pussy and asshole like it was a five star meal, licking and kissing and sucking like there was no tomorrow.  He pointed his tongue and drove it deep in her core and fucked her with it.  Robbie wasn’t even using words anymore; her emotions were conveyed with grunts and groans.  To send her over the edge, E started fingering her pussy again, hitting her spot, rubbing her clit just the way she liked it and eating her ass at the same time.  “Please don’t stop, I’m going to cum.  Please, please, please don’t stop.”  Robbie came so hard she almost passed out.  Her cum flowed out of her pussy like a faucet, coating Elijah’s fingers, hands, and face. 

     She fell over on the bed, drained and exhausted, staring at the ceiling and trying to make sense of how she had allowed herself to get to this place, trying to hold on to a place of peace.  Just then, Elijah’s cell phone rang and he made no move to answer it.  Almost immediately, she remembered the times they would be making love and his cell phone would ring and it would be other women calling and he would let it go to voice mail.  She reached for the sheet to cover her nakedness and her shame.  Elijah sensed her fears immediately and he handed her the phone and said, “Answer it!”  He answered the phone for her and held it to her ear.  

     “Elijah Ringer’s office,” she said.  

     It was a colleague looking for Elijah for business.  Robbie told him that he wasn’t available right now and added he would probably be unavailable until the morning.  She hung up the phone and felt a tiny bit of peace.  “I’m not seeing anyone, no one.  I don’t have anything to hide, “he said, “I promise.”  

     Robbie smiled because for the first time in their entire history, he had accomplished what he had never even attempted to do before.  He had calmed her fears and made her feel safe.  

     She pushed him over on his back and rolled on top of him.  It was in that moment, she was filled with a desire for him that surpassed anything she had ever felt for him before, and that was saying a lot.  She straddled his body and felt the hardness of his erection slipping between the slick, hot, wet folds of her pussy.  Elijah was in the zone, wanting to slow things down a little bit, perhaps have a little more foreplay but he was compelled to feel that warmth again.  His motives were obviously conflicted in his head.  “No, stop, we should wait.  I want . . . I want . . . I need to be inside you.  Oh Robbie,” he softly sobbed, “Ride me.  You make me feel so good.”  

     He gripped her hips and filled his hands with her soft flesh.  She crushed her body to his and he felt the hardness of her nipples pressed against his chest.  She started sucking his neck and it was his turn to moan and groan in incoherent babble.  He could clearly hear the evidence of her wetness as she was grinding on his dick and the heat from her pussy was almost too much to bear.  

     She grabbed the shaft of his dick and steadied it.  She placed it at her hole and the point of connect between their bodies was magnetic.  She was staring deeply in his eyes and he was saying over and over, “Please, I need to be inside you, I miss you.  I wanna make love to you.”

     Robbie took her time, going painfully slow as she sat on him, taking his fullness in so he could feel every single millimeter in exquisite detail.  It took her breath away and she gasped for air as he began to fill her in places that hadn’t been touched in a very long time.  The deeper he went, the more pleasure she felt.  The velvety softness of her walls surrounded him made him thrust deep inside but Robbie was in control of this ride.  She used her muscles to grip him tightly and make him work for it.  She rubbed her clit with one hand and reached around to play with his balls with the other.  

     “Oh fuck,” it was now Elijah’s turn to cry out profanities.  

She settled down comfortably on him, he was deeply inside her now and she stopped moving.  She was working her pussy on him, using her muscles, squeezing his dick and hitting that spot that made him want to shoot his cum deep inside her.  “Can you hold back for a little while longer?  I want make this feeling last.”  

     He nodded, trying to recall all the Tantric exercises he’d practiced without a partner and really not sure he could hold back another second.  If it meant pleasing Robbie, he would do whatever he had to do.  He focused his mind and lay back to enjoy the ride.  

     Robbie slowly started to grind her pussy on Elijah, using his dick for her pleasure.  She rubbed her clit against his pubic bone and made his dick massage her spot from the inside.  Her juices were all over his body and she shut her eyes tightly to concentrate on the sensations.  She started sucking his fingers like she was sucking his dick and E let out a sound that could be heard down the hall.  He reached around and stuck his finger in her ass and his moans were overpowered by the animal call of the wild that Robbie made.  He raised his knees and Robbie sat back and ground her pussy on him that much harder.  

     Elijah began working his hips, grinding them and making sure to stir it up for his little darling.  Robbie went into overdrive and began bouncing up and down on his dick, rising up until just the engorged head was nestled in her wetness and sinking back down on it until it felt like it was in her stomach.  She was slow and steady but she was fucking him hard.  The room smelled like sex and it was intoxicating.  They got into a steady rhythm and the pleasure was out of this world.  

     “Baby, I’m going to cum.  I can’t hold back any longer.”  Whichever one of them said it was really irrelevant because they were both on the brink.

     Elijah flipped her over on her back and pressed his body into hers.  They kissed as he drove himself deeper and deeper inside her.  There was only one place he was going to deposit his seed and it was inside her, there was no question about it.  She wrapped his legs around his back and pulled him closer, deeper.  Tears filled her eyes and she whispered, “I love you, Elijah.”  Her orgasm connected her with the All There Is and she experienced ecstasy in a way like never before.

     That was enough to send him over the edge.  Those were the words he had needed to hear again more than anything.  He began thrusting harder, and he closed his eyes as he felt the pleasure take over him.  He released his orgasm and fell exhausted on top of her.  She cradled him and kissed his forehead and comforted him like she had done so many times in the past.  

For the next few hours, they lay in bed and talked, really talked about their struggles and accomplishments and dreams for the future and even the past.  They punctuated their conversation with more rounds of intense lovemaking.  They bathed together and fed each other when the room service brought nourishment.  

     In the morning Robbie got dressed, unsure of what was going to happen next but determined to not let her ego get in the way of distorting what was a fantastic evening.  Elijah called the front desk and informed them that he would be staying for an indefinite period of time.  He made sure that Robbie heard him say that he would be looking for an apartment here in NY and needed some more time to find suitable accommodations.  He scribbled something down on a piece of paper and handed it to Robbie.  

     On the page the word “nebulous” was scribbled, a private joke they had shared in days gone by.  Robbie looked at him with confusion written all over her face.  

     “That is the password to my email.  I want you to check it any time you want.  I need you to know that you are the only woman in my life and that I’m dedicated to making this work.  Do whatever you have to do until you can trust me.  I’m going to call and make reservations for dinner tonight; I want you to meet my friends.  When you’re ready, I’d love to spend time with you and the children, both yours and mine.  He kissed her softly.  We are going to make this work.  I promise.  This is our chance to shine and I am not going to let it slip through my fingers.”    

     The waves were in motion and the stage had been set.  The star-crossed lovers had been reunited to fulfill their mission and to grow together as one.  All that was left was to nurture the spiritual blaze of the reunited twin flames.  The universe had many lifetimes planned in which they could explore the many facets of their eternal love.  

Copyright 2005 AfroerotiK  All Rights Reserved

Friday, May 15, 2020

The Problem with Billionaires

I find the concept of hoarding money offensive to my very core. I understand wanting to have money to provide you with all the luxuries in life that you want. I get that. I don't understand the need to collect more money after you have all the things you want. The concept of being a billionaire is offensive to me. People are starving. People are homeless. People are living paycheck to paycheck and a handful of people have more money than 75% of the nations population COMBINED. After you have all the houses, clothes, cars, jewels, boats, and whatever else you want, after you've made provisions for your children's future, for your health, for your future want and bills, what's the point of making MORE money? I will never understand that. At some point, my heart would be crushed to think of people starving and knowing that I have enough money to buy . . . everything. 

Jay-Z, Oprah, Dr. Dre and Byron Allen combined have enough money to infuse money into every ghetto in this country to build schools and hospitals and decent housing and they wouldn't miss a penny, they wouldn't even notice any change in their lifestyle. They wouldn't go broke, they wouldn't suffer hardship, they wouldn't not pay a bill. They could continue to buy whatever they wanted and they could feed every hungry Black child in this country. 

 WHEN I'm a billionaire, my promise to the Black community is that I will share my wealth with the entire Black community. My goal is not to die with the most money. My goal is to die with nothing, a zero balance. It's my goal to GIVE as much money as I can to uplifting the Black community. I don't want to profit from us, I want to profit from the oppressor and use every cent on lifting our consciousness. Of course I will make sure my family is provided for when I die but they don't need 100s of millions of dollars each to survive. That sort of greed and capitalism is evil to me. Having more money than you need when others are suffering is sinful to me.

Wednesday, December 18, 2019

Verifying Your Heterosexuality


For some years now, I’ve been in search of my openly bi, monogamous, non-Christian, emotionally mature divine-right partner.  I’ve never even come close to finding him.  I dated a man who shared my spiritual beliefs but who couldn’t stop fucking anything with a vagina.  I’ve dated several men who could stay monogamous for the short time we were together but they were extraordinarily emotionally immature.  I’ve never dated a man who was openly bi.  I’ve met and engaged with men who were bi in the hopes of forming a relationship, but I’ve never met any who were open about it.  They all struggled with their identity.  Oddly enough, they all started out proclaiming how heterosexual they really were.  Once they got it, once they figured out that I was really interested in an openly bisexual man and I wasn’t trying to trick them into revealing that they were down low so I could denigrate and degrade them, then all of a sudden, they miiiiiiiiiiight have experimented with something in their ass at some point and time or once or twice may have maaaaaaybe looked at tranny porn.  Once they realize I’m legit and I really am romantically interested in bisexual men, then comes the time when they confess how much they love dick.   They say that they have to lie about it because Black women will cut their dicks off if they tell the truth about it.

And I fully acknowledge and respect that a great many Black women are foaming at the mouth to demonize Black men for any sexuality that isn’t reflective of a Macho, Macho Man (I’ve got to be a Macho MAN!) demeanor. 

Here’s the thing.  I’m not aroused by heterosexuality.  I find the concept of heterosexuality to be juvenile and dysfunctional (and created by white men to perpetuate their egomaniacal need to oppress, dominate, and degrade women).  Human beings are capable of fluid sexuality.  All human beings, regardless of gender or race or whatever religion they practice, are capable of fluid sexuality. The men who insist that they are 100% straight, the ones who boast and brag about how straight they are and feel the need to verify it constantly in their conversations, the ones who are adamant that if another man sends them a message on Fetlife, they should fear for their lives, the men who act like they are going to vomit and convulse and die if they see another naked man, are 1. lying, and 2. offensive to me. 

This macho/masculine posturing is a deeply-ingrained part of Black male psyche.  It seems Black men need to constantly validate how heterosexual they are because they are the standard for male sexuality.  They have better bodies, they have bigger dicks, they are ostensibly better in bed, and they are lusted after by everyone.  Black male heterosexuality is the standard for machismo.  Black men are supposed to be driven by sexual lust, they are supposedly consumed with raping white women and making abandoned babies with Black women.  The Black man must be straight at all costs and he has to prove it constantly by reinforcing how he’s NEVER once thought about anything sexually other than “pussy” (women aren’t even usually given the respect of referring to us as human beings, we are only what we possess between our silky thighs).  

Now, FOR ME, and I understand that I’m in the minority but there are other Black women who respect and are aroused by bisexual Black men, I find the constant need to remind me that you are heterosexual to be immature.  It’s 2020.  We’ve all had access to the internet for more than 2 decades.  If someone says to me that they have never seen gay porn, I have to ask why.  You’ve never been curious enough to click on one video?  You think your heterosexuality is that fragile that you think that if you looked at gay porn that you would turn gay?  I’ve looked at every genre of porn there is just to see what it was about and I’ve never feared that my sexual identity would change if I just watched something.  I’ve watched people getting fucked by dogs and I’ve never had a desire to have sex with a dog so I feel pretty safe exploring the internet.  Why is it so hard to find a man who can admit that he’s watched gay porn? 

The few men I’ve met who identified as bisexual were still caught up in verifying their heterosexuality.  “Oh, I don’t kiss men.”  “I top, I don’t bottom,” , “I only like passable trannies, the ones that look like women,” and they ever-popular, “I am not really attracted to men, just dick.”  For the record, all of those perspectives are equally as unhealthy and dysfunctional as the, “I’ve NEVER thought about being with another man,” perspective.  And all those things are evidence that they still think there is something wrong with being bisexual or gay.  There has to be one brotha out there who gets that being bisexual is natural and nothing to be ashamed of, that it doesn't make him less of a man.  Where for art thou?

Everything we know about sexuality and gender is WRONG.  There is no law of nature that says that the rods and cones in a man’s eyes can’t appreciate and respect the color pink or a beautiful rose yet white men have convinced us that men can't like soft pretty, pink things.  Heels and makeup and all the trappings of what women are supposed to wear were all created by white men, not found in nature.  It is IMPOSSIBLE to say that women are supposed to wear heels and makeup when those things are the invention of men, not the divine power that created us.  To say that only women can wear pantyhose and dresses, man-made inventions, is to conform to the limited, fucked up mindset of the people who created those rules.  And the people who created gender rules were fucked up because it was there agenda to make men superior when we should all be considered equals. 

All people, all men and women are capable of being aroused anally.  There is no moral code, no extreme strength of character, no number of swinging inche between a man's legs that prevents some manly, masculine Alpha men from liking anal stimulation.  It’s biological.  Like crying.  If men have tear ducts, it means they are supposed to cry.  But we believe that if a man cries, that makes him . . . duhn, duhn, duhn, . . . weak, it makes him . . . a woman, and there is nothing more repulsive for a man to be than a woman, right?  Look at the rise in cross dressers over the last decade.  White men are buying more women’s clothing than women.  All because they think that if they like anal stimulation that means they are a woman.  How stupid is that?  It’s 2020 and we collectively believe that if a man likes anal penetration, that means he’s  immoral, he’s transgendered, or he’s gay.  It’s past time we stop believing these ridiculous and flawed gender rules.  They were made by white men with little dicks in order to try to control and oppress women. 

Black men are tied to proving how heterosexual they are but that’s extremely unappealing to me.  I want a brotha who doesn’t think he’s gay or immoral if he likes a finger in his ass when he’s getting his dick sucked.  Fuck around, I want a brotha who has kissed another man, I want a brotha who has loved another man; one who has been penetrated by and penetrated another man.  I want one who can admit that he’s looked at every genre of porn, and even one who can admit to being aroused by fringe and fetish porn.  I want a man who doesn’t have to lie about his sexuality and prove that he’s such a real man that he has never ever ever looked at anything other than straight porn. 

Do white men do it too?  Hell yes they do.  But white have the stigma of having little dicks so they are more apt to pretend to be alpha and straight in social settings and in public but their secret sexual identities are tied to being sissy faggots the second they are behind closed doors.  White men love to overcompensate and prove how straight they are, how dominant and alpha they are, but I don’t really give a fuck about white men’s mental health.  I don’t care if they lie about what they like.  I do care that Black men are so sexually and emotionally stunted that they are still holding on to concepts that will prevent them from ever forming a healthy relationship if they have to constantly lie about natural feelings, sensations, inclinations and proclivities.  We have to start being more honest with ourselves, with our partners.   

Wednesday, December 26, 2018

Bad Religion

I was married a million years ago. My ex husband was cheating on me and I put him out the day I found out. The entire process sent me into depression and I had insomnia. After a month I was delerious and desperate for sleep. One of my best friends suggested I get a meditation tape and listen to it to help me sleep. I got it and the very first time I listened to it I fell asleep. I was hooked. I listened to it every chance I could because when I was asleep that was the only time I wasn't feeling the pain of hurt and betrayal. After a month or so I ventured out and got another meditation cassette tape and started to feel better and better every day.

Curious about meditation and how it worked I started buying books on meditation to get a better understanding. Back in the 90s, I had never heard the term metaphysical before and it felt threatening to my Christianity so I embarked on a mission to learn all about world religions so that I could shore up my arguments that Christianity was the only true and right religion.

I took classes on Judaism and the Kabbalah and spent hours in the library reading everything I could. Six months later I declared myself a Jew. I came to the realization that there was truth in Judaism and I might as well read up on Islam to be able to debate intelligently if someone dare challenge me. I few months later I was pretty convinced I was Muslim.

I still had nagging, lingering questions that no religion seemed to answer but at the time I had been trained/brainwashed not to ask difficult or complex questions because I was pretty sure God would punish me to hell for not believing every word of whatever religion I was practicing. I kept on. Buddhism seemed most truthful of everything I had studied thus far but I was self-aware enough to recognize the pattern. I went back to identifying as Christian but with a comprehensive grasp of all sorts of religions.

It was around that time that I started studying Christanity. Not studying the bible but studying how Christianity came to be, trying to find evidence in history that could prove Christianity was the one true, right religion. What I learned rocked me to my core. I learned that Christianity was an invetion by white men to control the masses, to gain power, to hide real spiritual truths. It started to make sense why the concept of learning about other religions, about questioning God was considered heresy. Interestingly enough it was around this time I started to question everything I had grown to understand about sex and sexuality but that will have to wait for me to explain.

Fast forward to moving to Atl in the late 90s. I was meditating daily, with a group that became my family, and also alone. I started asking the Universe/God for clarity. I put a piece of paper up on my bathroom mirror that said, "I am open and receptive to thy loving spirit of truth." I would say it aloud every time I went into the bathroom. I was also in grad school in the African and African American studies dept. at the time so I could easily put the pieces together of how whites beat Christianity into us as a tool of control, how damaging that was to us psychologically as a people, and I had a greater understanding of the beauty of African religions by that time as well.

Growing up, my mother was a mistress, not in the BDSM sense of the word but in the adulterous whore context. She never went to church because she knew her life was foul. My grandparents and aunts and uncles were the ones to expose me to church. I remember in daily vacation bible school asking why. Why would God damn people to hell for not believing in Jesus if they had never even heard his name before? Why is God so petty that he did so many things to hurt so many people? If God is God, why does he care if you learn about other religions? Why is God a man?

I started to get the answers to those questions through my meditation. The answers didn't come the way I expected them to and they were way more scientific than religious. I just kept saying that I was open and receptive to thy loving spirit of truth.

On May 5th, 2000 the planets aligned. It was supposed to be the first time since Christ was born that they had all formed a straight line. I invited my meditation family over to my apartment and we had a group meditation.

Two days later I had a revelation, a grand epiphany. The truth of the Universe was revealed to me in a flash of a second. It was a sensatoon I will never forget because I was at work and three very distinct explanations of the Universe/God showed themselves to me at the exact same time in a fraction of a second.

In that moment, everything made sense. I understood everything, all my questions were answered. I understood why no religion was valid, how we are all connected. From that moment on I could no longer identify as Christian. I've continued to meditate and study all sorts of metaphysical things, physics, chemistry, and I studied consciousness in grad school to understand my revelations. I've had more revelations and they are all greater understandings of those initial three revelations.

It would be many years before I would ever tell anyone about my revelations. While I can discuss them openly now, I have no desire or inclination to convince anyone of what I believe, I don't need to prove my beliefs to anyone and I certainly don't want or need to debate anyone about religion.

My only requirement today is that in finding and meeting a partner, I require him not to practice a relgion. I want him to believe in something larger than us but I can't be comfortable with someone who practices and believes in the lies of man, of men whose intentions were to use religion to control and oppress people, and to monetize it to line their own pockets. Me dating someone who believes the world was created in 7 days or in an ark that can fit two of every animal on the earth would be akin to me dating someone who thinks Trump is a great president.

I am comfortable identifying myself as a practicing Scottieist, a religion of one.

Thursday, December 06, 2018

A Big Nothing Burger with Russian Dressing and a Side of Traitor Tots

Let's examine the facts from the perspective that Trump didn't just accidentally stumble into collusion with Putin based on the Trump Moscow deal; It is my supposition that Putin CHOSE Trump to install and he courted and approached Trump and offered to get him elected as POTUS.  We know that Putin's objective was to disrupt American democracy.  The question is, the glaring question is, if Putin wanted to install Trump as president, if his plan all along was to help someone who was enough of a dullard and egotistical enough to be flattered into doing his bidding inside the Oval Office, why wouldn't Putin manipulate the votes in order to get Trump in office?. Is it because he was afraid of what would happen to him if he did, that he would get in trouble with the CIA, that they would slap him on the wrist?  Is it because he respected our democratic process too much to alter the votes?  Perhaps he trusted that fake Twitter profiles were enough to convince the American public to vote for Trump. That's the question that everyone, it seems, refuses to even give voice to.  It's not as if the voting machines are impenetrable. The NY Times has reported that there are lots of voting machines that can have the software hacked.  Putin obviously knows that but the assumption is he didn't hack them because . . . he wanted every citizen to have their vote counted?  Putin is not beyond manipulating votes in his own country.  Why the hell wouldn't he manipulate votes in ours?  
If Putin's plan was to install a president whom he could manipulate, if he has the alleged pee pee tape or some other compromising sexual dirt on Trump, if he simply saw Trump as a starry-eyed sycophant whose greed could be manipulated and he approached Trump as said he could get him elected with the help of a hacking/internet/fake news campaign, then the next and obvious question is why wouldn't Putin manipulate the vote totals?  If Putin's plan is to disrupt American democracy and his very first tactic isn't changing the vote totals, he's not very good at hacking elections.  It's seems impossible to me, inconceivable to me that Putin wanted to hack the American election and his entire plan consisted of creating fake Facebook/Twitter profiles to post fake Tweets and hacking John Podesta's emails for a risotto recipe.  I've never stolen an election before but if I were to decide to become an Atlanta dictator and autocrat who wanted to install my granddaughter as president of her 5th grade class,  I wouldn't rely on a few glittery posters and some cupcakes to influence the outcome. The very first thing I would plan to do is stuff the ballot boxes.  I can't believe that Putin's plan was to just cross his fingers and hope that the inane emails found in the DNC hack would convince the majority of American people to vote for the the village idiot.  
Now, let's take a look at the facts that we know for sure from the perspective that the Russian scandal is based on Trump being selected as the perfect malleable candidate, not that he decided to run for President and Putin saw an opportunity to manipulate him when he was approached by Cohen or Don, Jr about the Trump Moscow  deal.  Let's suppose for a minute that Putin approached Trump and said, "Hey, I am looking to make a lot of money and I have a plan and I need you and only you to pull it off."  Trump starts salivating and says he is in on the deal.  They set out to have Trump run for POTUS and surprise, surprise, he wins primary after primary.  We know that Trump is guilty of whatever he accuses others of doing.  Right before the election, he started suggesting that he had no faith that the votes were going to be legitimate and that the results were going to be manipulated, that there was going to be voter fraud.  Don't you think that's because he knew Putin was going to have his hackers manipulate the totals for him?   Isn't that classic Trump, accuse others of doing what he is doing himself? 
If he was Putin's puppet, that explains the people with whom he decided to align himself .  If you look at his actions from the perspective that Putin was his boss all along, everything makes more sense. From his choice of Eric Prince's sister Betsy Devos as Sec. of Education, to Putin's best oil bud Rex Tillerson as SoS. It explains Jill Stein's presence at the RT dinner, it explains Russian fanboy Carter Page's appointment, and itt explains anyone and everyone who had Russian ties being in Trump's inner circle.  Putin wanted his closest comrades in place to pull off his mission to make billions once the sanctions were lifted. Trump was/is forming an annex office of The Kremlin in Washington DC and he wanted to place Russian friendly associates in place to help him.  It explains why Jared wanted to have a back channel to Russia and felt comfortable saying that he was okay with using their equipment: it's because he and the Trump organization have been cooperating with Russia since day one.  It makes sense why Trump was sooooo willing to ignore the warnings about Flynn.  It explains EVERYTHING.  It explains the Seychelles, the sanctions question from Butina, and even Devon Nunes hiding in the bushes, more importantly it explains every single action Trump has made.  It explains why he has been so Putin friendly every step of the way.  Everything makes sense when you examine things from that perspective.  Wouldn't that also explain who hacked the NRCC?  Trump only understands mob tactics.  Wouldn't it make sense that he asked Putin to get dirt on Republicans with the hopes that they were doing something illicit and scandalous in those emails and he could use that info to blackmail them to take the pressure off of him and the Russian nothingburger as he calls it? Makes a lot sense, no?.  
Finally, if we have learned anything about the current WH, we know that they lie about everything.  The official reason they said they finally fired Flynn was because he lied to Mike Pence.  Mike Pence knows that Trump was illegitimately elected.   I don't know how Pence is connected to Russia but you can be sure he is if he is aligned with Trump.

I realize I'm not the first person to assert this position.  I have not read the Steele Dossier but I'm going to assume that it supposes these things as facts and provides evidence.  I understand all too well that society is invested in avoiding any subject matter that approaches sex and sexuality as anything other a vanilla and benign activity done only by married white heterosexuals on a Saturday night. America is invested in hiding white men's collective depraved sexual behaviors so I get that the media didn't want to give credence to an actual pee pee tape.  I would just like to give a few minutes of contemplation to the concept that Putin created the plan to disrupt American democracy and he chose Trump as his guy because he had dirt on him and that the votes were manipulated.  
I have little doubt that whomever is pulling the strings behind he scenes is operating under the assumption that they don't want to reveal that our democracy was infiltrated to the extent that vote totals were changed.  The American people not only deserve the truth about our election process and it's vulnerability, however, but also it's imperative that the status quo can't be maintained in order to protect the crimes of traitors and the egos of racist, xenophobic Trump supporters.  
I'm a woman of color in this country and every day I see policies being made and people being installed who are going to erode the rights of individuals who look like me.   The questions I am imploring you to ask yourself are, what if Trump truly is a Manchurian candidate and, most importantly, why wouldn't Putin direct his hackers to manipulate the vote totals

Sunday, November 25, 2018

#alltragediesmatter

I need to address some incredibly offensive, inaccurate, and racist comments by . . . some dude whose name is not even important to this discussion. His arrogant comments however need to be addressed. In several deluded comments he made in response to a piece I wrote explaining why white people cannot claim to be victims of racism, he made some statements that were patently untrue. He claims that there have been lots of other races of people who have been enslaved and had their histories, identities, religions, and names stolen from them and they aren’t whining and crying about it like us sniveling African Americans. Well, let me set the record straight.

First and foremost, there has never been another group of people kidnapped from their homeland, forced to give up their names, forced to give up their language, forced to give up their families, art, history, culture, and their entire identities to the same extent as Africans who were enslaved in America. Not the Irish, not the Jews, not Cambodians, no one on the planet has endured what the descendants of slaves suffered. Want to know how I know this? Because white people won’t let you forget about Jon Benet Ramsey 30 years later, they won’t let you forget about OJ Simpson, you know they would never let you forget about something as horrific as an event that robbed them of their humanity for generations. The racist troll stated that the Jewish people were enslaved and they pulled themselves up by their bootstraps and it’s only us lowly niggers who keep insisting that we are the victims of racism.

OK, so let me ask a few questions to see if the tragedy of the Jewish Holocaust compares to the tragedy of slavery in a game I like to call Oppression Olympics.

1. How long were the Jewish people enslaved during the Holocaust? Was it for generations? Were Jews taken into concentration camps and made to live there under German rule as inferiors for multiple generations without being able to read, write, or get any education? No, they weren’t. The individuals who entered the concentration camps knew freedom, autonomy, they knew independence before they were imprisoned. They were ripped from a world where they functioned as normal human beings. Those individuals who were fortunate enough to survive that hell, when they were freed, they knew how to live and function as a human being in a world that saw them as human beings.

Africans who were enslaved, those ripped from Africa, transported to the New World, they also knew what it meant to be free. Here’s the kicker, slaves born into the system of slavery, those who never knew freedom a day in their lives, those who never made an adult decision about their destinies, about their lives, never had the same luxury as Jews who were imprisoned in Nazi Germany. Slaves born into they system never learned to read, write, they never learned how to run a household on their own, they never learned how to properly raise their children. Not because they were inherently inferior but because those options were not available to them because of their skin color.

2. Were Jews robbed of their history and identity? Hmmm, excellent question. Jews . . . created history. The entire Old Testament bible is based on their supposed greatness. Jews have the very same religion they had since, as they claim, God created Earth. Do African Americans have the religion our ancestors practiced? Not only do we not know what religion our ancestors practiced, we have been beaten, brainwashed, and convinced that the religion our ancestors practiced was heathen. Jews have a language they can call their own. Jews have songs they can sing that go back millennia. Jews have the same surnames they have had since the beginning of time. Jews have art, food, and books that go back thousands of years. Want to know what African Americans have? We have negro spirituals we learned under the whip of the white slave master because it was illegal for Blacks to practice their own traditions or tell our own stories of greatness. It was illegal for Blacks to even beat a damn drum. What if Jews had bar/bat mitzvahs taken from them? If there were no Jewish holidays on the calendar THEN they might be able to claim equality in the Oppression Olympics.

3. Were Jews dehumanized for their appearance? Well, I’m sure some racist troll who thinks he can put me in my place is going to suggest that Jews’ unique hair texture was different and thus it made them easier to be identified as Jewish, thus, it’s the very same thing as Blacks who were enslaved because of our beautiful dark, smooth skin, our gorgeous thick, wooly, hair texture, our beautiful facial features like our wide noses and our thick lips. We were dehumanized because our women had bigger asses and our men had bigger dicks. It’s pretty easy to take off your yarmulke to hide your Jewish identity. It’s not so easy to take off your skin though. But, I’m sure, racist nudist troll is going to insist that it doesn’t matter, that those things are unimportant. Well, let me take your child, brand them with a burning hot iron, rename them, denigrate them daily for their stringy limp hair, their thin unkissable lips, their flat asses, their inferior genitalia, and their pink, pasty, sickly looking skin. Let me do it to their children for their entire lives. Let me do it to 15 generations of your offspring and then we can see if there is similar damage done to their psyches.

Jews and Germans, for the most part, had the same hair, same skin color, same facial features, same body types. If you put a SS uniform on a Jew, the overwhelming majority of them would be able to pass as their oppressor. Here is a fun fact, slaves didn't have that same luxury. They couldn't pass as their oppressor, pretend to be one of their slave masters simply by putting on a different outfit.
4. Were Jews taken from their homeland? Ahhhh, here is where Jews can claim some competition in the Oppression Olympics. Exodus. Jews were driven from their home at one point in history. Were they kidnapped? Were they transported to another country thousands of miles away living in the piss and shit of strangers chained to them? Were they fed food infested with maggots and rat shit? Hmmmm. Were they chained to the hull of a ship with no water or fresh air? They walked for 40 years in the desert, united, together. I’m going to go out on a limb and say that is not the same thing as being captive on a slave ship.

There is another difference. Jews were given a little plot of land called Israel to do with as they pleased, including the systematic oppression of Palestinians at their discretion and pleasure. I’m going to also note here, and forgive my repetitiveness, but at no point in history were Jews robbed of their God, their names, their culture, their identities. It makes a difference. Want to know how I know? Because if it didn’t matter, Blacks and Jews would be in the same position today. If what happened to Jews was as tragic as what happened to Africans who were enslaved and their descendants then Jews were be in the same predicament as African Americans today. They aren’t. It’s not because they are more resilient, not because they were able to rebound better, not because they aren’t sniveling and whiny and playing the victim card. It’s because what has happened to them doesn’t compare to what happened to slaves. IF it was the same, if the impact of the horrors of American slavery were the exact same as what happened to any other race of people you would find the same outcome. Jews are not better at picking themselves up by their bootstraps. Jews are not better at rebounding from tragedy. Simply stated, what Jews endured in history does not even compare to what slaves endured.

Here’s where I need to empower the Black readers. If you ever find yourself in a situation where you have read and understood the context of what I’m trying to teach you, if you can wrap your head around the fact that no other race of people have endured what we have, if you muster up the courage to confront white people with your understandings, inevitably, you are going to encounter the, “YOU”RE RACIST,” chants from whites who are going to be offended that you would even suggest that what Blacks endured was worse than any other crime against humanity. Here’s what I want you to ask them. First, ask them if every tragedy was equal, if every crime against humanity was the same, if there was no difference whatsoever, why is it that Blacks in America (and in colonized Africa) have suffered greater than any other race and seem to have such difficulty pulling ourselves up by our collective bootstraps like other races? Ahhhhh, not an easy question to answer if you are racist and think there there is something inherently inferior about Blacks in the first place. The ONLY reason Blacks occupy more ghettos, we are more disenfranchised, is because we have been systematically oppressed in ways that far surpass anything that any other race of people has ever endured.

Next, ask them why they are so offended that a Black person would suggest that slavery was the worst crime against humanity. You see, inherent in racism is this notion that if Blacks claim what happened to us was worse than what happened to other races, we are an arrogant, uppity nigger. White people have to have to have suffered more. They have to be the most maligned. They can’t stand to let anyone say that what happened to Africans who were enslaved and their descendants was worst than the Irish and the Jews or anyone else in history because we aren’t human to them. If this were a real competition, and Africans born in America won the Gold medal for being oppressed, white people would contest the results, they would fight and scream that they were the rightful winners. Why? Because they don’t give a damn that millions of Africans were thrown overboard ships. They don’t care that white slavers raped women to make a profit from their children. They don’t care about the horrors we endured because all that matters to them is trying to silence our voices. They only care about refuting facts with their distorted lies in order to claim superior status.

One has to wonder what points white people lose, what privilege they have to give up if they lose the Oppression Olympics. Whatever the cost to them it must be great because they refuse to acknowledge that the American slave trade was the greatest crime against humanity ever. The truly non-racist person would say, “Wow, thank you for opening my eyes to the horrors of slavery. I think what happened during slavery was reprehensible and I for one am willing to adjust my thinking to help eradicate the racism that exists today because of it.” The racist will read the first paragraph or two and then say that Blacks are whiny, that what happened to other races was worse, and that we are just making excuses for our inherently lazy, criminal, dysfunctional behavior. I’m here to tell you that not one unhealthy behavior exhibited by Blacks in America today is not the result of our collective enslavement and the horrors inflicted on us by evil, sadistic white people. Sad, but oh so true.

Wednesday, September 19, 2018

NO, white people cannot, have not, will never experience racism!



In every single conversation about racism, inevitably white people will insist that they have experienced racism and that my discussion of racism, because it offends them, means that I’m racist.  White people cannot, have not, and will never experience racism.  

Racism is the intricate system of oppression, denigration, and devaluation that deems people of color as inherently inferior and that has existed for centuries.  It is not possible for white people to be born into a society where they are constantly told, in both overt and covert ways, that they are inferior merely because of the color of their skin.  White people are NEVER told that their hair, facial features, and body types are not considered the standard of beauty.  White people have never ever had legislators regulate their lives in a way in which they are left disadvantaged and substandard to people of color because legislators are always white, thus they have never lived in a society where their best interests are intentionally undermined.  

·         White people have never turned on a television and been faced with every face they see that looks nothing like them.
·         White people have never worshipped a God that looks unlike them.  They created God in their image, they have convinced the world that God is white and every image of a Judeo-Christian god (capitalization intentional) for thousands of years has been Caucasian. 
·         People of color have never colonized, controlled, and destroyed a nation and its population in Europe.
·         White people have never had their entire history, names, identities, art, culture, religion and history stolen from them.   Let that and the implications thereof sink in for a minute.
·         White people have never been told that the world’s greatest musicians, artists, philosophers, and scientists are people who look unlike them. 
·         White people are never told that their culture, music, speech patterns, and norms are abnormal.
·         White people NEVER have to fear that people of color are going to control and dictate their fate in a legal, medical, professional, or financial institution.
·         White people have never had people of color dictate their morality and/or social norms.
             White people have never lived in a society where people of color have denied them rights as human beings nor have they ever been told that their attractiveness means they have to have facial features as close as possible to people of color.

Because white people have never experienced any of those things, they have never experienced racism. 

A white person who has grown up in a Black neighborhood has never experienced racism because racism is not bigotry.  Bigotry is someone not liking a person because of the color of their skin. Racism is a complex, intricate, multilayered system of oppression that informs everything about a person’s identity, both white and black.  Racism informs how parents raise their children, it’s how one is socialized, it is NOT being discriminated against once or twice because you are in an interracial relationship.  Racism is generational, it’s the very fallacious belief that allows whites to think that their ancestors kidnapping, raping, torturing, beating, colonizing, and murdering people of color makes them somehow inherently superior or that it’s a fact that can be ignored so they don’t feel uncomfortable.  Racism is the arrogance that white people inherent because they believe that they can have the last word on every conversation, that they know it all, that they have a right to silence anyone who disagrees with them.

I know, I know! Saying that a white person is racist is the single most offensive thing that a Black person can say.  According to white people, a white person has to be wearing a white sheet, burning a cross, and screaming, “I hate Niggers,” before they can be considered racist and even then, there will be white people insisting that they know them personally and they are a good person and not racist.  I’ve seen it.  

Aaaaand . . . queue the white person who is going to say that they practice Buddhism or some religion where their God isn’t white and thus they aren’t racist but again, racism is not dictated by one single action or experience. 

Friday, August 24, 2018

"Reprogram me not to be racist."

Daily, I get some form a communication from white men who ask me to reprogram them to be a sissy/to crave Black dick/not to be racist.  Apparently, white manhood is so deeply entrenched into them, they need guidance and instruction from a Black woman to become a faggot sissy Jack of Spades (NOT my terminology, I would never denigrate Black men that way).

Listen up, racist white assholes.  No, I absolutely will not help reprogram you not to be racist.  You want me to “retrain” you not to be a racist asshole but that is clearly not possible because you are conflating your sexual fantasies with being a decent human being.  Why do you need to be retrained?  Were you indoctrinated in secret whiteness school to think that unarmed Black people should be murdered for minor violations, violations that you and your white friends can get away with with impunity?  Find someone else to reinforce your racist sexual fantasies that Black men are driven by lust for your nasty white girlfriend.  I support Black love, Black men and Black women being emotionally mature, intimate, honest, loving, and working together to eradicate racism, not your racist cuckold fantasies that reinforce that Black men are nothing more than sexual savages, nothing more than human dildos that service slutty, racist, white women or fuel your gay submissive desires.

I am superior to white men.  It’s not a role I play and I find your assertion that you need me to dominate you in order for you to see the humanity of Black people incredibly offensive.  You want me to alleviate your guilt over wanting to be a sissy faggot.  If your racist beliefs are that deeply ingrained that you can’t grasp that Black people have been oppressed, discriminated against, and disadvantaged since being kidnapped, enslaved, denied basic human rights, and objectified for centuries without having your dick in your hand, then you aren’t even worth my respect, let alone my precious time.  Go bother someone else who will tell you that your little cock is pathetic and feed your cucky fantasies.  I am not the one.

To all the white men who insist that they need to be reprogrammed in order not to be racist, I say go, read my blogs, my writings, my essays and my erotic stories.  Explore this new invention called the internet where you can find lots of information about white privilege, the fallacy of white supremacy, and racism.  Read a book, read a few, written by Black scholars.  Wait, you don’t value what Black academics have to say so go watch a few Tim Wise videos.  Apparently, learning about your racism is easier when it comes from a white man.  When you can come to me with some humility and respect for my race without it being tied to your racist sexual fantasies, when you have started doing the work of divesting yourself of the fallacy of white supremacy that is not connected to your erection, then I will be more than willing to converse with you about your racism.  Otherwise, it’s not my job, responsibility, or mission in life to make sure you aren’t racist.  That is your job!