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.

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Spice

It was with some frequency that James Hartman returned to his old stomping grounds in the ATL for job related responsibilities. Atlanta held many memories for James, good times, pleasant reflections and melancholy longings. It was a trip he always took with much anticipation because it presented itself with the hope of exploring his deepest, darkest, most perverted desires. James had a dark side that hadn’t had an outlet for quite some time. On this particular trip, wanting to step up the pace a little, he contacted an old girlfriend that knew of his proclivities and invited her out to dinner. Jessica was a sweet woman, not nearly as exacting in her ability to push James’ buttons as he preferred but her company was better than spending time alone in a hotel room.

You see, James was, by his very nature, a lowly and pathetic submissive. He longed for a woman to help him realize his true temperament, to bring out the filthy and untouched needs he harbored deep inside. He craved a strong and commanding Black woman to reduce him to what he knew he was inside, a worthless and pitiful excuse for a man. His job, his public persona was all a façade. James was, at his very core, a piece of shit and his entire life existed either trying to keep people from finding out that fact or longing to realize it in a way that allowed him a freedom he’d never known.

Dinner was to be at Spice on Juniper. It was one of the better restaurants in Midtown but money wasn’t really that much of an issue because everything could be expensed. Jessica was to meet him at 8, and with any luck, she would head back to James’ hotel with him to explore some of his desires. Running late, he called her on her cell to let her know that she should get a table and order a drink and appetizers because business was going to put him about 20 minutes behind schedule. By the time he got to the restaurant, appetizers were being served.

Jessica looked lovely and greeted him with a kiss on the cheek. He sat down and ordered a drink and started looking at the menu. As he settled into his seat to relax and enjoy his date for the evening, he glanced around to take in his surroundings and get a feel for the place. He froze. There, in the restaurant, was the one individual that had haunted James’ dreams and fantasies for years.

There are people that come into your life that make a lasting impression. Roberta Wonder was the woman that James just could not shake from his consciousness. She was the quintessential Ebony Domme that had tormented his dreams and fantasies for years; he was unable to rid himself of her influence on his very being. She had done things to him that made him question reality, that had pushed him past boundaries that no one else had come close to discovering. He belonged to her in many ways, even though she despised him on many levels. It was, however, her callous disregard for him that fueled his undying love and his yearning to prove himself worthy of her attention.

She was breathtaking, completely unaware that James was there. She was dressed to perfection and engaged in a deep conversation with her date, an attractive Black man that looked like he was basking in the glow of her company. The two seemed to draw the attention of everyone in the place, mesmerizing people with their fluidity and unspoken sexual chemistry. Her date made no attempts to hide his hands caressing her long, smooth legs beneath the table and she seemed to be aware that they were putting on a show for onlookers as she played up to that fact. It was like watching a movie that James couldn’t take his eyes off of.

Sensing the energy of someone staring her down, Roberta turned and made eye contact with James. It was as if she looked right through him, her eyes holding his gaze like a hypnotic trance. Jessica, sensing James’ distraction, tapped him on the shoulder and asked how he knew the couple. He fumbled for words and tried to direct his attention back to Jessica but she would never compare to the utter devotion he felt for Roberta. He made small talk, continuously glancing back, wondering if she was noticing him.

Wanting to assert himself and draw the attention of Roberta, needing her approval, he began mirroring the actions of her male companion. He pulled Jessica close and began showing very public signs of affection. It was more than apparent that they didn’t have the same commanding presence or chemistry of Roberta and her date but he was desperate to assert himself in some way. He knew not to approach her, he had been warned for years to leave her alone but there was something in him that was desperate for her acknowledgement. If he had been a peacock, he would have been showing his feathers and prancing around in an effort to get the attention of the female hen. His movements were vulgar however; they looked obscene rather than sensual, offensive rather than compelling. Jessica, while attractive, looked pale and trashy compared the deep sensual persona that Roberta exuded.

“It never ceases to amaze me how utterly contemptible I find your presence. You have the unique ability to make my flesh crawl from across the room.” James, startled by the words, turned to see Roberta towering above him. He rose and greeted her with a kiss to the cheek like she had said, “I’ve missed you so much.” The look on Jessica’s face was one of horror. It was more than apparent Roberta was amused by the disruption she had caused.

“How have you been?” he asked, sitting and making introductions between the ladies as cordially as he could, trying to hide the fact that her abrasive comments aroused him in a place that he didn’t understand himself. Roberta gestured to her date across the room and he waved back and she introduced him as Terrance, her significant other. He nodded back with a look that made James cringe. He feared that she had told him every detail of his dirty little secrets, that every nuance of his sick desires had been revealed. James swallowed hard and nodded, feeling emasculated somehow by the fact that he had always craved being the man in Roberta’s life and seeing evidence that he couldn’t measure up in any way. Terrance was smooth, refined, and sophisticated and it showed in the way he held his wine glass, the way his stylish clothes fit what was obviously a sculpted body. There was no doubt about the fact that Terrance was Roberta’s equal in every sense of the word and he hadn’t even opened his mouth.

Before there could even be any discussion or catching up on any details, the waiter brought the food they had ordered. Roberta seemed less concerned with talking to James as she did with Jessica. She sat at the table and turned her back to James and they made pleasant small talk, complimenting each other on shoes and lipstick and such. “I’m sorry, I’ll leave you two to your evening. It has been such a pleasure meeting you Jessie.” She stood to leave, James rising to be cordial. She turned momentarily and looked James in the eye and spit directly on to his food. James’ heart sank. “Enjoy your meal.” With that she turned quietly and walked back to her table.

Jessica was outraged. She started to get loud and draw unwanted attention to the table. James’ heart sank. He sat and tried to calm her down, to quiet her. “Is she crazy . . . are you crazy?” The utter confusion on her face was only lessened by the fact that she was outraged that the woman was so casual in her disrespect. James sat at the table a defeated man, staring at the plate, knowing full well that he could not walk away and leave it there or have it returned. It was far too precious a gift and he had to enjoy it. He couldn’t even hear Jessica’s words, he was in a trance. He kept looking to see if Roberta was watching but she was completely ignoring him, wrapped up in conversation with her lover. He slowly picked up his fork and knife and cut into his steak, carving out the piece of meat that held the most saliva. He closed his eyes and brought the food to his lips and placed it in his mouth. He could detect the taste of her slimy offering more than he could taste the prime cut of beef he held in his mouth. It was better than caviar or lobster; it was the precious and divine spit of the woman he craved.

Jessica was outdone. She had calmed herself down enough to stop drawing attention to herself but she needed answers. She was calling James names, trying to make him be a man, threatening to go slap that black bitch herself, dumbfounded as to why he would eat the food. You see, she wasn’t a true domme like Roberta; she had no clue that true domination was done in the mind and Roberta had masterfully exacted her domination without so much as raising her voice.

Just then, the waiter returned and asked if everything was okay. He handed James a bill and said, “The lady and gentleman over there have indicated that you are going to be picking up their tab so would you like to settle for them now or wait and have me bring you both your bill and there bill together?”

James looked down at his plate in silence. He didn’t say a word as he reached for his wallet and his little cock was now raging out of control in his slacks. He looked over at them and they waved back with familiarity and thanks. Jessica was PISSED and demanding answers. This had gone too far; she needed to know why on earth had he just paid for their meal? There was a barrage of unanswered questions as James just sat there, feeble and ashamed.

As they walked towards the front door, Terrance’s arm holding the small of Roberta’s back, she stopped and turned back to James’ table. “I’ve been thinking that you, Terrance and I should have some fun tonight, you know, for old time’s sake. Jessie dear, it was a pleasure; we’ll have to get together sometime. James, let’s go.” She took a step back and motioned for James to join them as they left. James’ eyes glanced back and forth between Roberta and Jessica. Roberta showed no signs of anything on her face other than quite possibly amusement. Jessica was outraged and threatened by the power Roberta possessed, desirous of it.

“Now, James,” her words were as soft and sensuous as her entire persona and James responded like a person who had been hypnotized. He signaled for the waiter again and whispered that he wanted to pay for their meal now, virtually untouched by either of them. The waiter was taking too long to return and he threw four twenties on the table and stood to leave. He knew without being told that his first test of the evening was to leave Jessica sitting at the table. His knees were shaky and he could faintly hear the curse words that Jessica was spewing but he found himself following Roberta and Terrance out the front door, ten steps behind, like a flunky.

Out in the night air, James breathed deeply. Roberta told him that he was to come with them in their vehicle. The valet brought around a champagne colored Navigator and held the door for Roberta to get in first. James sat in the back while Terrance drove and before he knew it, they were traveling northbound on GA400 towards Alpharetta. They chatted about James like he wasn’t even in the car, laughing about how he looked like he wanted to lick every drop of the spit off the food, about how he was so pathetic he didn’t even raise a fuss at paying for their meal, they even laughed about how Jessica would probably never speak to him again. James wanted to speak up on his own behalf but he felt like a child, incapable of articulating himself. If only his cock wasn’t so hard, if only he wasn’t so turned on by the control Roberta had over him by ignoring him.

They pulled into a subdivision with nothing less than million dollar homes. They pulled into the driveway of a huge house and parked the truck in the driveway. Roberta leaned over and gave Terrance a sensual kiss that made James’ heart drop. He knew that as long as he lived, he would never be the recipient of anything as tender and wonderful as that kiss. Terrance came around and held the door open for her. James was instructed to remove his clothes and place them on the seat. His cock was extremely hard as he longed for the degradation and humiliation only Roberta knew how to administer.

It was Terrance’s voice that barked the next command. Terrance pushed him up the walkway, causing him to stumble. James felt clumsy and awkward and profoundly humiliated that a man such as Terrance would be able to push him around without so much as a word in retaliation. It was Roberta’s way of controlling James, making him feel like less than a man.

Inside the house, James was led to a basement and made to stand in a corner. He heard Roberta and Terrance talking but he couldn’t make out the words. Without warning, Roberta approached him and said, “It’s going to be pretty difficult to explain your expense account with charges to your company credit card of plane tickets to Aruba, wouldn’t you say?” A lump formed in his throat and he couldn’t breathe. Roberta was not one to make idle promises; she was letting him know that his job was in jeopardy and she was going to reap the benefits with a well paid vacation. There was no way he could report the credit card lost or stolen, it would be an indication that he would never get the opportunity to serve her again. No matter how remote the possibility, no matter how detrimental to his livelihood, James could not take that chance. Before the interrogation was over, he had given her his PIN number to his personal account and assurances that all of his assets would be under her control. James inquired if that meant that he could now become her full time submissive if he relinquished all of his possession over to her, if he would be allowed to serve her malevolent wishes if he only lived in poverty. Roberta assured him he could have no such assurances and that she might not ever see or speak to him again. Terrance laughed out loud, making note of how funny it would be to see the supposed high powered white executive living on the streets in exchange for one night of domination with Roberta. James began to cry like a baby. He was filled with a shame that was beyond human comprehension. He wanted to run, he wanted to put a stop to everything but he stood in silence and very erect.

He could feel Roberta circling him but she was reticent to touch him. His very presence was repulsive to her. His pasty white skin made her want to wretch and his tiny cock deserved to be kicked and slapped it was so small but she couldn’t bring herself to touch it. He could smell her perfume and feel her body heat near him. She made him kneel on the floor and Terrance attached weighted nipple clamps on him. He screamed out as searing pain shot through his entire body. It was just like Roberta to push James past his limits and the humungous weights caused him extraordinary pain, more than he had ever endured before. The fact that he was in more pain than he had ever experienced caused him a sense of pride that he would be able to tolerate it for his ultimate mistress.

Nipple clamps in place, Roberta approached him and whispered sweetly in his ear. “I want you to see what a real man looks like.” He blinked his eyes to get used to the dimly lit room and he saw Terrance standing before him completely naked. He averted his eyes to the floor quickly, ashamed and afraid to look. He was perfection, a sculpted body with a massive cock sticking straight out. “Isn’t he lovely, James? A million times better than you, you disgusting piece of shit.” James cried openly, saying he wanted to end this game, that he wanted to go home. He knew what his fate was and he was having second and third thoughts about if he could go through with it. If only his little cock wasn’t so damned hard, he might have been a little more convincing.

Terrance approached him and stood inches from his face. Roberta moved next to him and stroked him to full hardness. James could smell the manly aromas emanating from him and he swallowed hard. The tip of Terrance’s cock was only a few centimeters from his lips and he could feel himself breathing hard. “James, you are a sissy faggot bitch, aren’t you?” Roberta’s voice remained syrupy sweet and as smooth as silk, never rising a decibel. His knees were aching and the pain in his nipples was about to cause him to pass out but he uttered a defiant, “NO!”

The sting from the slap across his face was more excruciating than all of his tortures combined. “You pathetic fuck, are you saying that I don’t know a dirty little cock sucking faggot when I see one?” If she had only displayed some measure of emotion, some detection of hatred in her voice, but her consistent and soothing voice made him melt as he conceded that she was correct. She wasn’t content with just an affirmation; she needed him to say the words. Knowing her as well as he did, he knew that his confession would have to be creative and inspired to please her. “Mistress, I’m a perverted, nasty sissy faggot bitch that loves having real cocks from real men fuck my slutty pussy mouth.”

“Good boy,” as she patted him on the head. James’ heart practically leapt from his chest being the recipient of Roberta’s praise. He wanted more humiliation if only it made her proud of him. “Show me how you like to suck real cocks. Make me proud by proving that you are a filthy cunt that loves getting your mouth fucked with ten hard inches of real man meat.”

James opened his mouth and didn’t have to do much. Terrance grabbed the back of his head and forcefully shoved practically the entire thick weapon in his mouth. James gagged and choked but he saw the look of disappointment in Roberta’s eyes and quickly stepped up to the task. He grabbed his little cock and started stroking it furiously. Roberta grabbed the clamps and pulled on them even harder and James tried to scream out in pain but it only forced Terrance’s cock deeper in his throat. He was sweating profusely and he felt like he was about to pass out. Terrance began moaning and saying he was about to cum and James sucked that much harder. He wanted to be the best head Terrance would ever get from one of Roberta’s submissives.

Almost without warning, Roberta pushed James to his hands and knees. He gasped for air as could breathe for the first time. He was babbling incoherently now, chanting and begging for more. Terrance repositioned himself in front of him and this time he dove for that monster cock without prompting, he loved the taste and feel of it and he was going to enjoy his journey into being a filthy cocksucker as long as it pleased his Mistress. As he began sucking it like there was no tomorrow, he felt Roberta’s hands on his back. He froze for a moment and continued on with his duties. Terrance grabbed his head and forced it all the way down on his cock and held it there tightly, forcing James to breathe through his nose and smell the manly scent of Terrance’s pubes.

Roberta’s hands spread his ass cheeks and he felt the head of a dildo pressed against his hole. He tried to scream but Terrance just held him in place like a rag doll. The lubricated head of a strapon rubbed his asshole over and over, sending chills up and down his spine. “Tell me what you want, James.”

Knowing his role, he began spewing out his desires. “I want to be used like a slut. I want to be your sissy faggot bitch. Fuck the shit out of me. Fuck my useless pussy raw, Mistress. Please use me.”

No sooner had the words come out of his mouth than he felt the searing pain of the head of the dildo penetrate his ass. He was getting fucked in both holes now, being used like he’d never been used before. He was sucking that cock like there was no tomorrow and before too long; he was experiencing nothing but pleasure from the strapon in his ass. His body was alive with pleasure. He felt Terrance tense up and start to unload a huge load of cum in his mouth and James realized he could no longer go back to his normal way of existence. His life would no longer be the same. All of his dreams, all of his desires were being realized in that moment. He was being completely used and manipulated by one of the most beautiful, dominant, utterly superior women he’d ever had the pleasure to meet. She had reduced him to the unthinkable and he loved it, he craved even more. He was about to explode as he felt Roberta’s soft thighs pounding against his ass and he realized he didn’t deserve that sort of pleasure, he realized that others would pay dearly for the opportunity he was experiencing.

Terrance pulled back and shot load after load of sticky cum on his tongue and James swallowed every drop. He looked up at Roberta as she smiled sweetly down on him. Terrance removed the strapon and fondled Roberta as only a lover could as James watched with jealousy and envy. Roberta instructed James to lie on his back and jerk off that poor excuse for a cock. He did as he was told; not needing much stimulation to get reach and orgasm, his level of arousal was at an all time high. She kicked him gently in the side as he moaned out more from the stimulation than the discomfort as she stepped over his head. She squatted lower and for the first time in his life, James saw the pussy of perfection that had filled his dreams. It was more exquisite than he had imagined and he could smell her sweet essence in the air. He longed to lift his head up and taste her but he knew he would not be allowed. He was stroking his cock and staring up into perfection when he felt the first drops of piss splatter on his face, He moaned out loud and opened his mouth as the delicious golden piss rained down on him. He swallowed hard and jerked off harder. He could hold back no longer and cum shot out of his cock like molten lava.

Some time during the early morning hours, he was kicked out of the home with a brown paper bag that held his clothes; he was naked and smelling of Roberta’s piss, his balls drained and his body full of Terrance’s cum. He had no money or credit cards in his wallet and he couldn’t call a cab. He had to rely on someone to come pick him up. “Hello, Jessica. I’m really sorry about last night. I need to ask you a really big favor. . . “
Copyright 2005 AfroerotiK

Soul Mates

At the beginning of time, the Creator split one soul into masculine and feminine energies. Those energies evolved over the course of many lifetimes, perfecting themselves so that they could be reunited in the physical plane as one. You, my love, are my twin flame, my divine right partner, the yin to my yang and I am now made whole again with you.

Making love to you is transcendent. Every breath you take I feel as my own. I can’t tell if I’m inside you or you are inside of me. My vibration rises and my senses become overwhelmed when I’m with you. I have nowhere to hide, nowhere to run. Your gentle moans of pleasure fill my ears when no one is around and your touch caresses me throughout the day.

My fears, dreams, hopes, and aspirations are wrapped up in you. Your fingertips hold my pleasure; your shoulders carry my insecurities and doubts for me. Your mouth speaks the words that soothe my savage soul. Your tears wash away my hurt and I am baptized in the sweetness of your nectar.

I want you to know that only you can fulfill me and there is no reason to for me to look elsewhere. I feel electricity and sparks every time I see your face, every time I look in your eyes. I want to kiss you for hours, losing track of time. I want to be late for work because we can't bear the thought of starting the day off without connecting. I want to bathe in your essence my soul mate.

Copyright 2004
AfroerotiK

Round One

The ice cubes melted and left a trail of moisture down her skin. The heat emanating from her body and the cool sensation of the ice were devastatingly contrasted but she barely noticed the goose bumps on her skin. It was her lover that held her attention. His lips found her neck and gently brushed her perspiring nape. She threw her head back and invited him to kiss her more passionately, finding that spot that drove her to maniacal fits of ecstasy.

He would not be rushed. She was his canvas and he was intent on painting pleasure on every square inch of her chocolate skin. He was a master artisan, preparing his subject and studying her from every angle. He noticed the swell of her brown breasts as she breathed new life into him. The light and shadow created by the candlelight were his guidelines as he kissed her beautiful body. The tones of her skin, dark and delicious, were a sensual palette of various shades. The texture of her hair and the roundness of her curves were a sculptures dream. Yes, she was his creation, an exploration of sensuality and lust.

He descended upon her, kissing her with a fervor that had no compare. Her lips parted and tasted the sweetness of his passion. Their tongues sensually danced and played with one another as her arms surround him, pulling him closer. He lay all of his weight on her, causing her to gasp for air, not from the pressure, from the intensity of their connection.

Her fever was rising ever higher. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him to her even closer. His hands roamed freely over her body, leaving marks occasionally where his passionate embrace was enthusiastic. The contrast in their skins tone made him that much harder. They were moving in unison, a well-oiled, black and white machine of sensual delight.

She needed to take charge of this ship, show him who was in control. She made him stand, nothing for support. She grabbed his wrists and pulled them behind him. He could obviously overpower her so his compliance was symbolic of the fact that he wanted to relinquish power. She knelt before him and surveyed her prize. She began to kiss him softly, eliciting gentle moans of pleasure from him. She heard a sharp intake of breath as she enveloped him with her mouth. Softly, gently, she licked him. His knees began to buckle and he wanted to lean on something or pull her to him, but he couldn’t she was now the master artisan, painting indescribable pleasure with her mouth.

She licked every inch of his hard cock as his breathing got louder and louder. Her mouth enveloped him completely and he began moaning uncontrollably. She used her lips to pleasure and her tongue to torture, but only the kind of torture that ushers in the most decadent release. He shut his eyes tightly; afraid that he would explode and bring the sensations she was giving him to a crashing halt. He concentrated. Lights danced behind his eyelids and he felt the warmth of her mouth and the softness of her lips slide sensually up and down his erection. Harder, faster, deeper and wetter, she was on a mission and there was only one goal.

A sound formed in his throat, in his belly actually. It was the sound of animalistic lust. He was in a different time and space as he began moaning uncontrollably. He cradled the back of her head and tried to push her away. He wanted to wait, to last, and to return the favor. She was a woman not to be denied. She looked up at him with lust in her eyes and said, “cum for me.”

With that, she made one more decent with her mouth. This time, she swallowed him completely and he reached to point of no return. He felt his orgasm hit him hard as he released the evidence of his arousal.

They cradled together in silence. He stroking her hair gently, she snuggle in the place between his chest and neck. “I love you,” he whispered as she whispered back, “get ready for round two.”

Copyright 2004
AfroerotiK

Earthly Delights

The First Time

For months, the tension between Reginald and Ebony built like a sweltering, smoldering fire. It was a slow burning fire, not with raging flames that extinguishes itself quickly but the kind of fire that glows and lingers and produces the greatest heat. The tension between the two lovers was tangible; the electricity could be felt in the air. Her heart would race when he was near, his blood would course rapidly through his veins at the mention of her name. They functioned like a well-oiled machine together; intellectually, spiritually emotionally and physically.

He wanted to make their first time together memorable and me made preparations down to the last detail. He studied her every move, listened intently to her dreams to learn her secrets and her desires. He was going to use her body like a road map to pleasure so he studied her every curve and contour so he could be prepared for his journey.

On the night in question, their night, he invited her over for dinner and to watch a movie. He greeted her at the door wearing nothing but linen drawstring pants, his bare feet and chest a sexy yet comfortable welcome. The embraced, she standing on her tip toes, he wrapping his arms around her completely, sliding his hands up and down her spine.

He had cleaned his place from top to bottom for her. In so many ways that was more arousing to her than flowers or candy. It meant he was preparing to receive her. It was to be a night of the sumptuous and the decadent. Rather than sit at the table, he prepared a picnic on the living room floor. Fresh fruits and warmed finger foods were displayed on platters of various styles and patterns before her. He had raided his aunt’s cabinets the day before to make sure he had enough china to use. Grandma's intricately floraled bone chine mixed sat amidst square, contemporary Asian styled plates and were highlighted by the collection of K-mart's most exclusive blue light special pattern every bachelor owned. She didn't care at all that there were as many mismatched plates as there were food styles on them, all that mattered was that he had put such effort into making her feel special.

They sat together, not speaking, feeding each other, drinking wine from each other as they kissed. The television screen illuminated them as Love Jones played muted in the background. Feeling light-headed, from the wine and from the company, she lay back on the floor and stretched out, closing her eyes to recuperate. Behind her closed eyelids, she felt his fingers gently outline her lips and eyebrows.

They kissed and it cemented in both their minds that there was no turning back. Ebony pulled Reggie to her; he pressed the weight of his body into hers. She was grabbing for his dick and he was ripping the blouse from her body as buttons flew everywhere. They were two passionate, lust-filled animals in heat writhing on the floor as they surrendered to the months of intellectual and emotional foreplay they had shared. Ebony moaned as she reached inside Reginald’s pants and felt the evidence of his passion for her. Its length, weight and thickness frightened her; it had been so long since she had been penetrated. She had been saving herself for her Divine right partner and he was only inches away from the entrance to her soul.

Their kisses fed their hunger for one another. They feasted on each other, drank of each other’s essence. Ebony spread her legs and awaited her moment of reckoning. He lowered his mouth to her sweet center. Her slippery and sweet juices were flowing freely. Her lips were parted slightly, exposing her silken and pink center. His tongue softly flicked at her clit, sending waves of pleasure throughout her entire body. Ebony’s body jerked and shook every time his lips sucked her sensitive button. The more he licked the wetter she became. Her moans and utterances of profane and graphic directions were music to his ears. “Baby, I love the way you lick my pussy . . . oh shit . . . fuck . . . yesssss. . . finger me. Oh, it feels so good.” Reggie cupped her ass in his hands and pulled her pussy to his mouth and drove his tongue deep inside her. “Baby, I need you inside me now. NOW,” she was desperate and frantic with her plea. Ebony was lost in so much pleasure her tears began to flow as freely as the cum that coated Reggie’s face.

But Ebony was not a woman to be denied her own brand of pleasure. She was intent on returning the favor. She moved quickly to take advantage of the situation and climbed on top of him. Ebony held his stiff dick in her soft hands. She began to softly, gently lick the head, licking it like a soft serve cone and expertly using the tip of her tongue in his slit. She began swirling her tongue around the head, getting it wet and slippery with her spit; stroking him to full hardness with her hand. She looked at him with a sexy look in her eyes took his entire length in her mouth in one stroke. She took a deep breath and went further down, deep-throating him with a technique that would make porn stars jealous. Totally consumed, Reginald was breathless as he knew what was about to come. Ebony began her technique of licking, sucking, and stroking his dick in a way that made him want to lose his mind. Her tongue actually felt like it was circling his shaft when the head was deep in her throat. The pleasure was indescribable. Her lips, her tongue, her mouth and hands all worked together to suck with the right pressure, to lick the right spots, to give him sloppy, wet, sensuous pleasure.

Reggie, wanting to make sure that the first time he came, it would be deep inside his lady love, grabbed his dick and held back the tears in his own eyes as he prepared to take his final journey home. They moaned out in ecstasy as he penetrated her very soul. Reggie was content that he had found his reason for living. Every trial, every pain and hurt that he had ever suffered, was washed away by the sweet juices that coated his raging hard-on. He was so deep inside her, so completely enveloped in the core of her being, he got lost in her identity and they became one.

His orgasm hit him hard. More than just the physical sensation of pleasure overtook him; it was the realization that they could not be separated ever again. He had left his mark inside her; his seed would surely grow. He collapsed on top of her and she cradled him and comforted him in her sweet and loving embrace.

“I love you, baby,” she whispered, as they drifted off into a peaceful slumber

Nine Instruments

The first annual Nine Instruments event served not only to support a good cause but it also lent itself to the ultimate experience in seduction and eroticism. Only the most sophisticated and elite were in attendance. Among the crowd was a couple intent on capitalizing on the potential for romance. Their actions were scripted but their desire for one another was untamed.

“Excuse me,” she whispered to her husband, “I really must do some networking-- I’ll be right back.” She circulated amongst the masses like a panther stalking her prey. Her actions did not go unnoticed. He watched her circulating; he was ever aroused by her presence. The jiggle in her walk and her trademark fragrance always seemed to arouse passions in him that, if he wasn't careful, would be detectable to the other partygoers. She mingled with the partygoers, perusing the art and swaying to the Latin rhythms. He was distracted briefly by the many sights and sounds the night offered and he lost vision of his beloved.

She approached him from behind-- tentatively but with the confidence of a woman intent on seducing her man. Her hand found the small of her back; she leaned in close and whispered in his ear. Her words flowed like sweet and sticky honey over her lips. He could feel her warm breath on his neck, the heat of her body against his arm. She spoke without censor of the things she would do to him, of dreams she wanted fulfilled. He did his best to focus on her words, to be present and in the moment, be he could barely keep his own erotic ruminations at bay.

He played along with her game and welcomed her advances. Undaunted by their public surroundings, she pursued him relentlessly, the night taking on erotic overtures of it’s own. On this night, she was transformed into a sexy seductress and she was exacting in her detail of her mission. Her body fit in his arms like it was customized for his embrace as she pulled him to the dance floor and they swayed to the music. At his threshold for teasing, he whisked her away from the gala event to partake in his own plan to seduce his sweet lady.

Copyright 2004 AfroerotiK

Prelude to Passion

My Twin Flame, my dear kindred spirit, my divine right partner,

I am writing these words to you without even knowing your name. So sure am I that you are my other half, the yin to my yang, that I have no fear that our destinies have brought us to this very place and time. I knew you in a remote village in Africa when we made love under the stars without care. You kept me alive when we were shackled and dying, in the bowels of a slave ship with just your eyes to comfort me. I nursed you back to health from wounds that the slave master inflicted because you were too defiant, too strong. Our souls have been black for a very long time. I have been your mother, your father, you daughter and your son. I have been your sister and your brother, you lover and your enemy. I know known you as both my husband and my wife. Now is our time to be those things to one another again.

We have come to each other, fragmented parts of a whole, to be reunited as a manifestation of the One Most High. We have been chosen to give voice to a shift in consciousness. We have been gifted with a vision that seems a curse without one another. Come to me, my beloved, so that we might unite and fulfill our souls’ mission. Seperately, we are ineffectual. Together we can give birth to Gods and Goddesses.

I come to you today, flawed and damaged, far from perfection. This journey has taken a toll on my being. Share you dreams with me as we fight to restore a holistic and spiritual paradigm. Read poetry to me until the wee hours of the morning. Hold me in your arms so that your heartbeat serenades my soul. Allow me to love you from the very depths of my being with a love that transcends definition. Dear lover, I come to you empty and alone. I have no fear, no shame in my plea. You can see past my flaws and insecurities to the visionary and prophetic wisdom that is waiting to be born inside me. Impregnate me with your inspiration, your serenity, your love.

Fear not, my love. These are not the ramblings of the insane. You have been tortured with dreams that seem unobtainable at times. You dream of penetrating you lover for the very first time with the knowledge that you will never be with another woman again. You dream of nursing from your wife at the same time as she feeds your baby. You dream of raising a family at the foothills of Kilimanjaro with nothing but an organic garden and Divine Love to feed you. These are my dreams as well.

I AM putting the universe on notice that I AM open, ready and receptive to receive my divine right partner, my twin flame, right now. I invite you into my life to embark upon a journey like none other.

With all my heart and all my love,

Foreplay Game

My invitation

I invite into my life the opportunity to wear my man's t-shirt on a Sunday morning to fix him breakfast. That means he will have spent the night in my bed on Saturday night. I desire the constant presence of my divine right partner in my life.I invite the opportunity to worship and commune in spirit with my man, to raise our vibration collectively as a manifestation of the one most high. I desire a man that shares my spiritual vision and wants to grow with me.I invite the opportunity to nurture and pamper my man, to spoil him to let him know that my first thought is showing him love any chance I get. I desire the constant presence of him in my life whereby it becomes second nature to buy his favorite food, or to buy extralaundry detergent to wash his clothes.I invite the opportunity to fit my man into my list of things to do. I desire the opportunity to make planning for him a place in my life.

I invite feeling his tender caresses. I desire being kissed by him because he cares for me, not because he's trying to fuck me.I invite the opportunity to feel so comfortable with my man that can fall asleep in his lap. I desire the level of intimacy where I can feel safe enough with him that I can relax, let down my guard and slumber like a baby, to feel his hand rubbing my head, giving mecomfort.I invite the level of intimacy where I can ask to take a shower at his place and know that I will not be molested or leered at if I close the door. I desire the comfort and intimacy to invite him to share in my bathing ritual with me because he wants to hear me ramble on about my vision and dreams.I invite the sensation of being pampered by my man. I desire someone that takes pleasure in making me sigh and feel cared for.I invite the sensation of being touched caressed and pleasured, not groped and molested. I desire the sensation of closing my eyes and drifting off to a place of peace while I feel his masculine hands all over my body and I can enjoy every second of his touch without fearing that I'm going to be perceived as a ho, used, manipulated or a notch on someone's belt.I invite the opportunity to receive pleasure. I desire to be so comfortable with him that I don't have to worry about asking him to stop because things are going to far.I invite the sensation of opening my legs for him, inviting him into my sacred space, feeling his desire for me, of knowing I can cum and not be afraid that he's going to walk out and I'll never see him again. I crave the sensation of having him cum inside me. I desire hearing him say that being inside me completes him and that he wants our baby to grow in my womb. I want to fall asleep with him inside me. I want to have a regular partner that loves me, for me, and only me.

Copyright 2004 AfroerotiK

Honey Dust

Hotel Bonaventure



“Well, isn’t this a coincidence?” The question came out of the blue for Steven Kirkpatrick, a young businessman with just a little more arrogance than humility, with an inherent sense of entitlement as he navigated his way through the world. He was checking in to his hotel room rather uneventfully as he’d done so many times before. He was caught off-guard as he felt the presence of two people invade his personal space on both sides. He glanced nervously around as he saw the person who posed the question standing dangerously close on his left side and her companion on his right. It was Theresa and her boyfriend Carl, a couple he’d met in his hometown of Philly in an attempt to explore some of his “darker” sexual fantasies. Darker meaning he had an odd obsession with Black sexuality, more specifically he had fantasies of submitting to a sexy Black woman and her lover and being “forced” to do whatever they had in mind. They were a couple that fit that description perfectly with confidence and sensuality oozing from every pore in their bodies and more than just a little experience in manipulating and dominating submissive whiteboys. What they were doing in Montreal, in the Hotel Bonaventure for that matter, was beyond him. He glanced around nervously, afraid that people could read his mind, that they would know his dirty little secrets.

“Hey,” he said nervously, “what are you guys doing here?” His discomfort was more than apparent and his insincerity was transparent.

Carl put his arm around Steven and patted him on the back. “You told us what a hot city Montreal was and we decided to come check it out for ourselves. Who would have thought we would end up staying in the same hotel together? It really is a small world, isn’t it?”

Feeling a little more relaxed; Steven smiled and realized that no one could read his mind, that his secrets were safe. The fact that it wasn’t really a coincidence that Theresa and Carl were there, the fact that they were there to torment and push his buttons was completely lost on him. Momentarily, Steven got a quick thrill thinking about how the three of them had met, of how they had toyed with him and left him wanting more. It was a rather innocuous meeting, one in which they’d met for coffee to size each other up. He’d made promises of how he would do whatever they said, of how he was willing to become some deliciously depraved slut that would endure all sorts of sexual torments in order to fulfill his interracial fetish. For Theresa and Carl however, domination wasn’t just a pastime or a fetish, it was a way of life and they proved to be more powerful adversaries than Steven had ever imagined. They essentially told him upon meeting him that he did not meet their criteria for a submissive and they weren’t interested in him. Both pissed off and aroused by their comment, Steven went home and masturbated thinking of all sorts of situations in which he would have been made to do things that would make anyone in polite society cringe.

“Do be a dear and get our bags and bring them up to our room, won’t you Steven? We’re in room number 1705.” The casual air with which Theresa issued her command made Steven feel about 2 inches tall but there was something thrilling about the fact that she was talking to him like a servant. He felt movement in his pants and the beginning of an erection as the desk clerk offered to have the bellman bring the bags up to their room. Carl declined the offer and insisted that Steven would be more than happy to bring their bags up to their room personally. They walked off, hand in hand, leaving Steven there, dazed and confused, and outraged that they would dare to be so arrogant.

Steven hesitated, as he watched the two of them walk away, hand in hand, tempted to yell out, “Take your own fucking bags,” but he was paralyzed by the thought of bringing more attention to himself and the hypnotic effect that the pair of lovers had over him. His mind was racing with thoughts of potential outcomes and possible scenarios that could evolve and his desperation to explore his fantasies was far too compelling to ignore. He laughed it off to the clerk and he made some excuse about how they were old friends that always played little jokes with each other and how he was going to play a little joke on them and how he wouldn’t mind taking their bags. It was a pretty good job of thinking on his feet considering all the blood was rushing to his cock and not his brain in anticipation of what might be in store for him. He stalled for 15 minutes or more trying to figure out if he could go through it or not. In the end, he made the decision to throw caution to the wind. Steven was ready for some hot sex and it was do or die time.

As the elevator rose to the top floor of the hotel, he had second thoughts. So far, all of his fantasies were just that, in his mind. He’d never done anything like what he’d dreamt of and he wasn’t sure he could go through with anything. He knocked on the door softly and waited, wanting to run away and never see them again but frozen to the spot like a statue. It took more than a minute but Carl opened the door, wearing a pair of pajama bottoms and it was more than obvious that he was partially arousal. Steven was staring at his crotch as Carl cleared his throat and said, “We knew you would show up. Come in.”

The seventeenth floor of the Bonaventure was all suites and Steven placed their bags by the door and walked behind Carl to the bedroom. On the bed, naked with her legs spread open, was Theresa, in all of her glorious beauty. Her caramel colored skin looked soft to the touch and her pussy was calling to him to put his mouth on it. He looked at Carl and then at her and awaited instructions. Theresa told him to undress and sit; sounding a little like she was talking to a puppy rather than a man. He undressed quickly, anxious to get things started until he looked up and saw Carl had removed his pajama bottoms and was sporting an erection larger than anything he’d ever imagined. He kept looking back and forth between Theresa’s gorgeous pussy and Carl’s gorgeous prick. He was captivated by sights and didn’t know where to turn.

“Yeah man,” Carl said, pretending some sort of connection or friendship, “isn’t her pussy the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” All Steven could do was nod and swallow hard, wanting to taste it, wanting to be swallowed up by its soft, sweet folds. Theresa cupped her magnificent C cup breasts and called to Carl to come finish what he had started before Steven interrupted them. Steven grabbed his cock and started stroking it furiously as he watched the two lovers engage in erotic foreplay. Carl drove his tongue inside her and she grabbed his head and held it in place. Steven could smell sex heavy in the air and hear the moans of ecstasy of the lovers as he ate her with skill. It was as if they were performing for him but they were oblivious to him at the same time. She wrapped her long legs around his head and arched her back as she began groaning loudly. He wasn’t sure if she was about to cum but he knew damn sure that he couldn’t hold back his own load for very long.

“Mmmmm, Carl, I want to see him suck your dick, I want to see him get it nice and wet so you can fuck me. Make him suck it baby; make him worship your dick like he’s praying at an altar. You know I love when you use whiteboys, it get me so hot.” With that, she started fingering her pussy and playing with her hard, chocolate brown nipples.

Carl walked over to the chair where Steven was sitting, stroking his dick. It was only inches from his face and his mouth was watering. He’d never been so close to a real cock before and he could feel his own cock swell even more. He could see all the details: the engorged head with its piss slit glistening with a drop of precum, the thick veins that ran along the shaft, and the dark ebony flesh that held him captivated. His ears were ringing and his heart was about to beat out of his chest. Without notice, Carl grabbed the back of his head and shoved about four inches of his dick in his mouth in one thrust. Steven panicked and tried to pull away but Carl was stronger and held his head firmly in place. Deep inside he craved sucking it. He was powerless against the need to suck that cock; it was calling him, from his soul.

Steven shut his eyes, fell to his knees, and sunk into the depravity of being a white cocksucker for black dick. He could hear the taunts and teases of Theresa, urging Carl to make him choke on it as he started to lick and suck that glorious penis. He could feel the force of Carl, pounding his mouth, fucking his face, sliding deeper and deeper in his throat. In that moment, he was just like all the sluts he had seen in porno flicks and he was using every trick in the book he could think of to get that cum. He needed to taste that delicious sperm from those black balls. Carl was getting more forceful, causing him to choke and gag. Steven was moaning on that cock and jerking his own, ready to shoot. He started sucking harder, licking, and deep throating what he could.

Without notice, Carl pushed Steven to the floor and stepped back. “Damn bitch, ease up. The night’s just begun.” For a second, Steven was ashamed that he had been so enthusiastic but he loved the sensation, he craved more. He crawled to the foot of the bed, and watched as Carl lay back and Theresa climbed on top of his dick that was wet with his spit. From his vantage point, he could see the lips of her pussy as they slid down on his ebony dick. Her ass was full and round and it bounced as she rode him. Carl met her with powerful, rhythmic thrusts, driving himself inside her, causing her to moan out again and again. They moved well together, his hands gripping her body, her long legs tensed and muscular, steadying herself as she took every inch. Steven was jerking off and breathing hard.

Carl moaned out and in one fluid motion, flipped Theresa over and held her legs up as he prepared to fuck her senseless. “Here bitch, lick her pussy juice off my dick, suck it you dirty little whore.” He waved it in front of Steven’s face and he dove for it like a sissy faggot. He tasted the sweet elixir of cunt juices and precum as his mouth was filled with thick, hard, meat. Almost as soon as he started getting into it again, Carl pushed him away again and placed his dick at Theresa’s wet hole. He pushed it in slowly, inch by inch, stretching her, filling her. Steven has never seen anything so erotic in his entire life. “Don’t think I’m going to be this gentle when I fuck you. I’m going to fuck you so hard you scream like the bitch you are.

Apparently, those words were enough to send Theresa over the edge because she started screaming that she was going to cum. Carl would plunge deeper and she would beg for more. Steven was stroking in time, feeling every thrust somewhere deep in his consciousness. Carl moaned out as he collapsed on top of Theresa, exhausted and drained, emptying his load deep inside her.

The rest of the night was a blur of intense sexuality and experiences. Steven’s boundaries truly were pushed, his reality altered forever. He flew home from that trip to Montreal, a different man, with a different appreciation for life and for Black sexuality.

Copyright 2005 AfroerotiK

Sensual Escape Story

Experience Making Love to me

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then calmly reassure me of your love. Look deeply into my eyes and let me know that everything will be fine, that you will take care of me, that I don't need to be afraid. And with the hunger of a starving man, the thrill of the first time…………penetrate me. Close your eyes and feel our bodies become one. Experience my gift to you.

Make love to me. Slow, steady. hard, deep. Drive your dick up inside me over and over again. Make me scream with pleasure and ecstasy divine. Fuck me until our bodies are glistening with sweat. Feel my pussy grab you and pull you deep inside of me. Tell me how tight and wet and hot I am and how good my pussy makes you feel. Faster …Deeper. Experience the addiction of pleasure over take your body. And then my dear, sweet lover, fill me with your seed, that which makes me whole. Don't move, don't move, DON'T MOVE. Just enjoy the experience of making love to me.


Copyright 2004
AfroerotiK

After Dinner Treats

Her breathing was calm; I could tell she was having a peaceful dream. I love watching her sleep; it is my private time to revel in her beauty and sweetness. Hours earlier, she wasn’t the serene and slumbering vision that lay before me. Earlier, she was a woman in charge, driving me to heights of passion that most men only dream about.

I had taken her to dinner just to give her a special treat . . . and somewhere in between the appetizer and the salad; my girl decided that she had to have me, come hell or high water. Damn! I love that feeling. She went to the ladies room and returned with a slightly damp pair of panties discreetly in her hand and a seductively wicked smile on her face. She dropped the panties in my lap as she slid back into her seat, exposing her bare mound for my eyes only. They couldn’t have weighed more than a few ounces but the presence of her red silk panties lying there against my hard-on made them seem like a ton of bricks. I desperately wanted to hold them to my nose and inhale her sexy scent but I dared not in the very public restaurant.

“Uhhh, waiter, check please.” I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. My lady had other plans as she told him to come back later with the bill. She slid her chair closer to me, undid my pants barely beneath the fringe of white linen tablecloth and freed my raging erection. Her silky smooth fingers gently caressing me made me want to nut right there. She took a breadstick from the table and lowered it out of my view. She was squirming and moaning ever so slightly indicating that she was doing really naughty things with that thing. I wanted to pull that, “Oh, I dropped my napkin let me get it under the table” trick but that only happens in fake assed porno’s. When she put that breadstick in her mouth and started to suck it like it was my dick I almost threw her on the table and fucked her right there for the entire world to see.

I left the waiter the biggest tip he’d ever gotten in his life and I couldn’t wait to get to the car. Apparently, neither could my girl. She was all over me. It’s a good thing the windows of my truck are tinted. Once completely inside, she leaned over unzipped my pants and wrapped her full, wet, thick lips around my dick and sucked me until I was moaning. It was the sloppy, wet kinda blowjob where you know your girl is doing it because she loves it and not because she’s obligated to do it. She was rolling my balls in her fingers and stroking me off at the same time. I felt myself about to lose it and I grabbed my shit to keep from busting a nut and I tried to conjure up images that would keep me from having to explain funny white stains to my car detailer and to my drycleaner.

She wouldn’t stop. She pulled her dress up and slid over in my lap. She undid the buttons on her blouse and pulled her nipples out of her bra. I sucked those perfect, hard, brown pebbles as she guided my dick to her hole.

Her pussy was so hot and wet I could feel her flesh pull me inside. I grabbed a handful of that ass and held on tight as she used my dick for her pleasure. Her pussy was gripping my dick so hard it felt like a vice, a velvety, smooth, hot wet vice nonetheless. That ridge inside her was working the spot on the head of my dick and was driving me insane.

We were both moaning like crazy. She was grinding on me, smothering me with her titties. I was slapping that ass and my dick was in heaven. I felt her strong brown thighs grip me and I knew she was cumming. Man! I coated every single inch of her womb I came so hard.

I wish I could say that I fucked the shit out of her when I got home but I would be lying. Truthfully, she rode me until my dick was sore. We both surrendered to the exhaustion you feel at the end of the most satisfying and delicious night.

Copyright 2004 AfroerotiK

Gourmet Sex Book

Deep in her hot Azz


It was usually something that they reserved for special occasions, you know, anniversaries, birthdays, Valentine’s Day; it wasn’t a part of their regular sexual repertoire. Truth be told, they both loved it, but they were afraid if they indulged in it too much that it would lose some of it’s novelty . . . uniqueness. She was usually the one to initiate it. She would email him at work or leave a message on his voicemail letting him know that when he got home that it was gonna be ooon like popcorn. Being as it was Sunday, and they were spending the entire day relaxing together, she didn’t have a chance to plant a secret note or surprise him with a steamy voicemail. She knew just what she was going to do and how she was going to reveal the news that tonight was the night for some backdoor fun.

Sunday nights were Club Caramel nights. It was becoming their regular spot because the atmosphere was so chill, the people were so sexy and the opportunity to get into some hot erotic play was such a thrill. She was taking an extra long time getting ready and he was wondering what the hold up was due to, usually she wanted to get there before 10 so they could pay half price. This night, she seemed to be a little more elusive . . . a little more seductive. She wasn’t answering his questions directly; she was being coy. He anticipated getting into some threesome action with one of the ladies that they had become familiar with in the past few weeks so he just chalked up her moodiness to being anxious about a little girl/girl play.

They made their way to the bar, got some drinks, and mingled around. Just as the fun was about to begin, she leaned in close and whispered, “You know honey, I was thinking tonight might be a good night for you to fuck me in the ass. You know how much I love when you ram your big dick in me back there.”

His eyes almost popped out of his head. “You mean here? Tonight?” She was talking but all he hear was something about hard dick and tight ass and blah blah blah but he couldn’t have repeated anything else that she said if you paid him cash money. His dick was harder than Chinese calculus.

She snuggled up close to him and whispered in his ear, “I’ve been thinking about it all day long. Promise me you’ll do it really hard like I like, won’t you? I think it’s going to be soooo sexy.” She knew her boo better than anyone and she knew that her words were driving him to distraction. She had to giggle at how preoccupied he was . . . and how hard he was too.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the private rooms downstairs. She stopped him and said, “I was thinking it might be more fun to do it where other people can see. You think people will like watching you work that big dick of yours in my ass?”

His mouth almost hit the floor. She smiled seductively and walked towards the back room where it was very open, wiggling that sexy bottom of hers on the way. Everyone was getting comfortable after the reading and making their way to their respective places to watch or play. The lovebirds quickly settled in on one of the mattresses and undressed.

The thing was. . . he wasn’t really a small guy, so getting all that stiff meat in her ass was usually a big production. Now, once it was in she could take it all, and beg and scream for more, but getting it in there was the trick. She got up on her knees and presented her rosebud to her man. He knelt behind her and worked his tongue up in her to get her nice and wet. Her moans of appreciation and words drew people nearer. She was being vocal on purpose. It turned her on to know that they were going to be so public with something so private. He worked a finger in to loosen her up and she went wild. She was so turned on she wasn’t going to need a lot of preparation. By the time he had two fingers in, she was on the verge of her first orgasm.

She was begging for him to fuck her in the ass and everyone in the place heard her. The usually reserved single ladies were mesmerized. The single fellas couldn’t do a damn thing but stand back and look and stroke themselves wishing it was going to be them in that tight spot. At her threshold for teasing, she turned around and started sucking his dick. When I say she sucked it, she sucked it like a porn star, deep throating it and getting it nice and wet for the wild ride. Her spit and his precum were going to be their only lubrication so she wanted him to be dripping with both. She used her lips, mouth and tongue to get him prepared. She looked up at him with a glazed look in her eyes and mouthed the words, “FUCK ME, now.

She lay on her back and spread her legs. Immediately, her fingers found her pussy. Another sista, wanting a closer look, moved closer and began sucking her titties and kissing her. Her man took aim and placed the head of his dick at her rear entrance. The entire room moaned when the head penetrated her. He was starting to sweat. The sensation was so tight, he always wanted to ram himself all the way in in one thrust but he could never do anything to hurt his special lady so he took his time. She was doing just fine, her new friend was now rubbing her clit and she was in heaven. “More, give me more,” she moaned.



Inch by inch, slowly he sunk deeper and deeper. Finally, he was buried deep inside her and he waited for her to become accommodated to his size. Words weren’t necessary at that point, she nodded and he understood. It was a frenzy of lust and passion and pure unbridled sex. Everyone was part of the action now, watching, admiring, cheering them on. He was fucking her had and steady. They shifted positions occasionally so he could get better penetration and she seemed to crave it more and more. Her orgasm triggered his and they exploded in unison in a fit of hedonistic passion.

Everyone seemed to collectively exhale as they came down from their high. She pulled him close to her and kissed him deeply. “I hope you liked my little surprise.” All he could do was hold her close and cradle her head to his chest as he recuperated from the intensity of his special backdoor gift.

Copyright 2004 AfroerotiK

Monday, November 28, 2005



It was not a night to sleep; it was a night for sweltering passions. The humidity hung thick in the air and the temperature was as unforgiving as the Sub-Saharan sun at midday. A sexy sheen of perspiration bathed your body as I lay silently watching you. The white cotton sheet wrapped sensuously around your legs, a tangled mass, was evidence of our previous intense, sweaty lovemaking.

“Dance with me,” I whispered as I saw your body stir. Come; let’s use the moon as our spotlight and the rhythm of the night as our music. I pulled your sleepy frame from the bed and put my arms around you. You laughed at my silly suggestion but the intensity of our naked bodies moving together, the electricity between us as we held each other close, inspired a dance of erotic expression.

We fit together perfectly, our bodies like pieces in a sensual puzzle. The drumbeat pulsed like the blood coursing through our veins. The Afro-Cuban rhythms heard only in our heads were genetically encoded in our DNA. We moved together like two well-choreographed dancers; our dance was of romance, intimacy and erotic expression.

Our skin stuck together and our bodies moved together in unison. Your hands slid down the small of my back. My lips tasted the salty sweet nape of your neck. We danced. We danced the dance of mythical lovers until our heat could be contained no more. I melted into you and you melted into me . . . doing the Midnight Tango.

Copyright 2004 AfroerotiK

Basket of Love

Ebony Erotica

I remove my blindfold and look deep in your eyes. I have waited too long for this moment to be hidden in the shadows, to be denied my view of perfection. Surely this must be what heaven looks like. Placing your hand firmly in my own, I lead you to the center of the room. I want you to stand there for me to admire, nothing to support you, nothing to hold on to. Damn baby, why are you so fine? My job is to undress you so slowly, so methodically, that you think it’s a dance. Can you feel the rhythm of my touch?

At an arm’s distance away, I take the straps of my dress and slowly lower them. My eyes are glued to yours. I slide the material over my hips and step out of the dress, heels still in place. I stand before you brazen and bold, overcome with lust. My brown skin is glowing in the candlelight. I run my hands over my thighs, up the smooth, soft skin on the inside, right up to my flat stomach. The desire to finger myself is so overwhelming, but I don’t. Timing is everything. Your eyes are transfixed. I turn around and give you a view of every angle. “You like what you see?” I bend over in front of you. I spread my pussy lips, rub my fingertip over my clit for a second. I wonder if you can see from your vantage point how pink my flesh is, how my aroused clit is peeking out from under its hood. It always amazes me how slippery my pussy gets. I’m kinda getting the impression you like my little show.

At your threshold for teasing, you grab me by my wrist and forcefully turn me around. My arms reach out for your neck. You pull me to you close, take my breath away. We kiss. Pretense aside and passion indescribable. It’s a Love Jones, Mahogany, Jason’s Lyric kiss all rolled into one. I stand on my tiptoes to try to maneuver your dick between my legs. You have got my head swimming. This has got to be some sort of spell you have over me cause I’ll be damned if I can figure out how come I want you so much.

Copyright 2004
AfroerotiK

Eating Juicy Pussy and Sucking Hard Dick


Ebony spread her legs Reggie lowered his mouth to her sweet center. Her slippery and sweet juices were flowing freely. Her lips were parted slightly, exposing her silken and pink center. His tongue softly flicked at her clit, sending waves of pleasure throughout her entire body. Ebony’s body jerked and shook every time his lips sucked her sensitive button. The more he licked the wetter she became. Her moans were music to his ears. “Baby, I love the way you lick my pussy . . . oh shit . . . fuck . . . yesssss. . . finger me. Oh, it feels so good.” Reggie cupped her ass in his hands and pulled her pussy to his mouth and drove his tongue deep inside her.

Ebony climbed on top of him and held his stiff dick in her soft hands. She began to softly, gently lick the head, licking it like a soft serve cone and expertly using the tip of her tongue in his slit. She began swirling her tongue around the head, getting it wet and slippery with her spit; stroking him to full hardness with her hand. She looked at him with a sexy look in her eyes took his entire length in her mouth in one stroke. She took a deep breath and went further down, deep-throating him with a technique that would make porn stars jealous. Ebony began her technique of licking, sucking, and stroking his dick in a way that made him want to lose his mind. Her tongue actually felt like it was circling his shaft when the head was deep in her throat. Her lips, her tongue, her mouth and hands all worked together to suck with the right pressure, to lick the right spots, to give him sloppy, wet, sensuous pleasure.

Copyright 2004 AfroerotiK

Edible Undies

Dear Beloved


I was in deep reflection today, thinking about making love to you. For some reason, thoughts, metaphors and analogies kept floating around in my head like lyrics to a song. I couldn’t stop thinking about how when you are deep inside me, and our bodies are moving together, we are like an instrument. A guitar perhaps; your fingers gently strum my taut and tense places which elicits a sounds that serenade the angels. Perhaps; I you are my harp, cradled gently between my legs as I play your body with artistic flair. More than an instrument, we are like magical music together. The staccato rhythm and pounding beat of our bodies making that hot sweaty passionate love is a concert to the senses. Your taste is the melody, your scent the rhyme, your moans of pleasure are a sensual harmony and the feel of you deep inside me keeps time. You are Marcus Miller laying the baseline for my Miles and miles of orgasmic bliss.

Damn, what have you done to me? I can’t stop thinking about how you make me feel. I can’t decide which sensation I like the most. Your tongue is magical; licking me, literally, from head to toe. Your arms envelope me and make me feel like I’ve found home. Your hands grab my hips and let me know you are steering this ship of pleasure and I’m a passenger on the Lust Boat.

What do you say to the idea that we not let all this passion I have for you go to waste? I have a taste for you and it’s not going to be satisfied by anything else. I want to hear you moan and tell me how good I make you feel. And if you are a good boy, there might be some other little surprises in store for you as well. I think I owe you a night of selfish pleasure for all the times you’ve given me such immense ecstasy. Can you imagine me bringing you to the very verge of orgasm and stopping until you are more desperate to be inside me than you’ve ever been? The offer is on the table. What say you, maestro?
Copyright 2005 AfroerotiK

Getting Wet and Sexy

It’s 7:00 and I have a date with you at 8:30. I have been nervous all day and the anticipation is killing me. All day long at work, I was fantasizing about what our evening will be like. My hands are sweating and my stomach has butterflies. I had to leave work early because I couldn’t concentrate. I was distracted with thoughts of you. I take a long hot bubble bath to relax my nerves. The warm water and the scent of jasmine always help to calm my nerves. I’m able to play in the bubbles and that allows me to forget somewhat about my nervousness.

I take an extra long time to bathe so that I may caress my skin and maybe relieve some of my frustration. My hands roam all over my body, gently touching the areas that I am so desperate to have you touch. I opt not to touch the wet, slippery folds of my pussy. I want to save that for you. My anticipation is building to an almost terrifying level and my aroused clit is throbbing. I remember your words and they ring in my ears, “ All of your fantasies will come true tonight.” Some of my fantasies are dark, private. How could you possibly know them? Yet, somehow, I know you have looked deep into my soul. I’m afraid of what is going to happen and it thrills me at the same time. I’m wet now, and not just from the bath water…

Copyright 2004
AfroerotiK

Afrocentric Passion

Her senses were overwhelmed. The aroma of her Patchouli oil and the Egyptian Musk incense he lit to prepare his home for her clashed-- but the smells only served to fuel her passions. The mélange of fragrances made her light headed. Perhaps it wasn’t the aromas at all that had her senses so heightened; perhaps it was her incredible desire to feast on the Ebony King before her. His locs were tied back and the silver ankh on his brown skin appeared to be a key, a master key to her passions and desires.

He untied her sarong and laid his bare brown beauty upon the bed. Her hard brown nipples ached to be sucked. The hair between her legs made her look like a real woman, not shaved to look like a child that mainstream culture insisted was sexy.

He joined with her in a union of flesh and spirit: calling upon the untamed passions of the motherland, transforming themselves into one entity united under an African night sky. She received each thrust and he gave of himself each time. Her pussy was soaking wet and his dick harder than the rose quartz amulet she wore around her neck. Their moans of passion were a transcendent love cry to a place far away . . . far, far away.

Copyright 2004
AfroerotiK

Collection of Oil Set

Deep Inside My Neo Soul

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Goddess Initiation

A full moon hung heavy in the summer night sky. It was like a scene from a movie but the reality of it was brought home to Graham by his heightened sense of arousal and the majesty of the individuals before him. He had been selected from a long list of applicants to witness a special ceremony like none other. The Southern Regional Obeah Society was having a rites of passage ceremony for one of its most exalted members. To the outside world, the organization was nothing more than a Black BDSM group that promoted Black Supremacy. In actuality, it was nothing of the sort. It was a group formed to restore true Afrocentric principles and governing regulations to those that chose to acknowledge Africa as their spiritual and cultural homeland. Hoards of submissive whites flocked to the S.R.O.S. members because they were so comfortable with their sexuality and power and it served as a natural aphrodisiac for those wishing to relinquish some white guilt. On this weekend, the Divine Mother Mistress Olutuunde was being given the title of Goddess. It was a sacred ceremony with traditions and practices taken from several West African religions and adapted to contemporary African American sensibilities. Meaning, no goats were sacrificed, no genitals were mutilated, but there was an amazing feast of food and libations and traditional dress, dance and ritual.

Graham had been escorted blindfolded to a remote compound outside of Atlanta. His sense of direction was fine for a while, they started out on I-20 and made their way south on I-75. His chauffeurs obviously didn’t want him to know their exact destination so there were some twists and turns en route that were intended to throw him off. They arrived at what seemed to be a four hour journey at a remote 30 acre piece of land that surely had been the property of a genteel slave master in days gone by. Graham was the only white person there and his own insecurities made him more self-conscious than the actual treatment he received. Everyone treated him with casual deference. He was insignificant to the weekend’s festivities and he knew his place was to watch and to observe and to await his time to serve.

Friday night, he witnessed all the weary travelers arrive and find their accommodations. There were about 35 to 40 guests in all; the majority of which were Black males. There were a handful of women that were also high ranking priestesses in the order, but this weekend they were acting as maidens to Divine Mother Olutuunde. They were to cater to her every need. Graham noticed that the Divine Mother treated them all with respect. He imagined that a white woman would not be as gracious with a similar amount of power, and wondered silently why there seemed to be no signs of jealousy among the women. His sensitivities to the differences in behavior were heightened by the fact that the he was the lone Caucasian in the group and he had no choice but to remark on the differing patterns. The rest of the women in attendance had risen to the ranks of Goddess already and were going to be officiating the ceremony. They remained out of sight mostly, preparing themselves with prayer and meditation in the solitude of nature. They were drawing on all of the spiritual energies and ancestors needed to raise Mistress Olu’s vibrational pattern to that of a Deity.

Saturday morning began a day of preparation and festivities. The Divine Mother was not to have her feet touch the ground so she was carried upon the shoulders of four men wherever she needed to be taken. She actually had no such need; anything and everything she desired would be brought to her with the snap of her fingers. The four men stood by her like sentinels guarding the throne. The women groomed the Divine mother all day, lavishing luxury and pleasure on her. Graham watched from the periphery, constantly aroused and amazed by the beautiful brown bodies before him.

The hand maidens took great pleasure in attending to the honoree. Graham watched in amazement while they washed the long, beautiful dreadlocs of the Divine Mother, at how they used a liquid black soap to create volumes of suds and massaged them gently from root to tip. They gently and repeatedly poured purified spring water from a pitcher through her hair until no signs of lather remained. The maidens then created a hairstyle that looked like a crown with her locks, and momentarily, Graham was ashamed that his fine, limp hair could not duplicate any such style.

He watched in awe as they bathed her body. From head to toe, they caressed her smooth brown skin. Each maiden knew that one day she would be in the same position and she lavished all the pampering and care she would want on herself, creating a space in the universe for her actions to be returned in kind when it was her time to ascend. Intricate henna tattoos of ancient Adinkra symbols were skillfully applied to Olutuunde’s spine, a spiritual road map of sorts for her energy to be raised up through her chakras. Melted shea butter was poured all over her and all ten hands of her lady servants massaged it in to every pore. Her skin glistened and glowed with rich deep tones and smooth, velvety perfection.

Graham swallowed hard as the women prepared to shave the beautiful cunt of Mistress Olu. She lay back on the down filled mattress and spread her legs. The male attendants stood erect in more ways than one, in their color sarongs and bare chests, as they watched. Graham was light headed, awed by all the beautiful Ebony bodies before him. He wished he could just disappear into the surroundings but there was little need for his nervousness; his presence there was more like that of a pet than a participant.

They lathered her gorgeous mons and sharpened the straight-edged razor with precision and skill. Slowly . . . methodically . . . and with exacting movements, every hair was removed to reveal the silky, soft folds of black femininity. They repeated the procedure again, leaving her naked in a way that seemed more tangible than just having no clothes on. Her pussy lips were like that of a flower, delicately opening to reveal her inner most treasure.

Each maiden, one by one, knelt at Olu’s core and made tribute with her mouth. Each woman kissed, licked, and sucked that sweet pussy while the Divine Mother lay writhing in sensual ecstasy. Mother Olutuunde shuddered through a string of never-ending orgasms. Graham, knowing he could not relieve himself during the weekend’s activities, stood in tortured agony awaiting his turn. His chance to drink from the beautiful Mistress was not to come any time soon. His opportunity to feast at the divine core was to come at a much later, more crucial stage in the weekend.

He made his way around the rest of the compound, pausing to take note of the strength and beauty of all of the people that surrounded him. He wondered inwardly how their ancestors could ever have been confused for being inferior. He marveled at their bodies, their skin, and their presence. Everything about them reeked of royalty and magnificence.

Graham casually strolled to the barn on the property where no less than 20 black men were in various states of undress; all of whom were eating, drinking, dancing, drumming and working out. They were preparing for the night’s main event. They were bonding; each man hand selected by a private council to participate in the initiation. Ascending to the position of Deity in the secret order is the second highest honor of the resurrected African tradition. The highest honor and privilege went to the men who were selected to impregnate the initiate. As Goddess Mother, she was to give birth to a Prince or Princess that would one day reign supreme. No one man could be selected to father such a child lest his ego become distorted with delusions of grandeur. Twenty men were selected, each for their special talents, abilities, and skills, to provide love, nurturing, support, guidance and the genetic materials to assist in the creation of the wonder child. No one would ever know who the biological father of the child was and it was of no importance. Yes, for a mother, the child would have the mother of all mothers and he or she would have twenty fathers that would love and protect him or her for life. The child would be the collective of the most superior genetic stuff possible. Graham watched as the men prepared and secretly hoped that their sperm would be the one to impregnate the Divine Mother Goddess.

Night fell and electricity grew in the air. It was a wild frenzy of celebration and circumstance. A huge bonfire burned and spat glowing embers to the cleared holy grounds, the land that held the bones of ancient survivors of chains of slavery and tyranny. Graham was a part of the processional, led in on a leash attached to his cock and balls. His pink erection looked almost laughable in comparison to the columns of Ebony flesh sported by Black priests of the secret Obeah society. He made himself comfortable on one of the hammocks and prepared for a long night.

Incantations were recited in strange tongues and prayers were sent up to the heavens. Twenty men were to make love to this woman, which could conceivably take twenty hours or more if left to their own devices. Each man was limited to 15 minutes to not only deposit his load into the Divine Mother, but to give her pleasure. They had refrained from any sexual contact for six weeks and eaten a strictly vegan diet to prepare for their responsibility. Olu had prepared as well. In addition to her fasting and meditation, she had been trained in ancient Kemetic sexual practices from other women who had ascended to the rank of Goddess. They taught her magical techniques that the Western mind would find inconceivable. She was prepared to give all the men the most memorable night of their lives in more ways than one.

The Divine Mother Mistress Olutuunde was carried in on the shoulders of her four body guards on their shoulders and placed on an altar. It was designed to have her comfortably recline in a position where her pelvis was at the same level of her lovers and allow the sperm to collect in her womb. She was radiant and joyful, almost too peaceful for someone about to be given the title of living God.

Each man that had been selected to contribute his load to the mix stood in anticipation. They stroked themselves to arousal in a huge circle jerk of masculine showmanship. The maidens licked and kissed Olu in a grand display of lesbian foreplay. That alone was enough to get ancestral spirits aroused but that was not to be the grand finale as it were. A cloth bag with a mudcloth pattern was circulated between the men. Each man drew a smooth stone with a symbol carved into it. That was to be the order in which they were to “perform”. A high priestess would send up a prayer and reach in another bag and pull out a stone. The individual with the matching symbol would be the next in line to perform.

Graham was in agony; his balls were aching and he was desperate for some relief. The numb ache he felt was a turn on, he liked being deprived of satisfaction, it was his fetish. He knew that when the time came for him to release it would be explosive.

The crowd was in a frenzy, desperate to know who would be the first. They were chanting and dancing and drumming and praying. Naked black bodies gyrated and moved in trancelike fashion.

The first symbol was pulled. The lucky frontrunner was an artist and musician named Heru from the Philadelphia area. He was honey vanilla in complexion and had locs that cascaded down his back. His 6’even frame was sinewy yet muscular and his stomach looked like a rippled washboard. The muscles in his lean, athletic thighs flexed as he approached the altar. He looked down on Olu with love and affection and they tenderly touched fingertips in an act of intimacy. For the first five minutes of their exchange, they kissed. They kissed the kiss of eternal lovers reunited after a lifetime of separation. Silence fell over the crowd out of reverence and respect. Their kisses grew more passionate and more compelling, to a feverish pitch. Olutuunde’s body arched up to receive Heru and they joined together for the first time. Everyone took a deep breath at that very moment except for Heru and Olu. They cried out into the night in sensual bliss.

Tears formed in Heru’s eyes as he experienced a sensation like he’d never felt before. He was confined in a prison of pure heaven and it was blissful torture. Olutuunde experienced pleasure of her own; Heru’s dick was reaching her spot and stimulating her to fits of orgasmic bliss. She fucked him back, giving him pussy like he’d never dreamt possible.

Graham watched, a lump in his throat, as the two lovers put on a performance that rivaled the best adult film he had ever seen. Never in his life had he witnessed two such beautiful black specimens in such a passionate exchange. Heru was glistening with sweat, Olu was moaning out into the night like an animal. Their body movements were like a dance. He fucked her harder and she responded in kind. The muscles in his ass flexed as he pumped and pumped some more. His steely erection was coated in her juices and he dug his fingers into her hips as he stood motionless and emptied himself physically and emotionally into the Goddess.

One by one, symbols were called and Ebony suitors stepped up to the task. Graham watched as men the color of the sweetest molasses to rusty brown to golden tan and every color in between drove their hard cocks between the sweet thighs of the Mother Earth. Each man brought his own technique yet the all seemed to melt under the auspices of the task at hand. None seemed prepared to encounter the velvety walls of a true Goddess and many needed to be carried away in exhaustion and defeat. Graham watched as each ebony cock was withdrawn from Olu, glistening with the previous loads of cum that had been deposited and his mouth watered with envy. After a few hours, he moved closer to the scene, no one seeming to care if he got a closer look.

As the night wore on, the men who had already gone began to get aroused again and pair off with the maidens. Not restricted to a time limit, they began to fuck like wild animal in the summer night air. Those that had yet to get their turn began to stroke each other. It was an African spiritual orgy, sex the way it was intended to be: open and free and without inhibition. Graham was high from the scent of sex and sweat and incense. He moved closer still, close enough to be but a few feet away from the vessel of Olutuunde. White frothy cum seeped from her lips and he openly wept and stroked his little erection furiously. Hard black cocks, attached to gorgeous Black men, fucking a Goddess right before his eyes was more than he could stand.

In the wee hours of the morning when the last man approached, everyone gathered around closely. The Most High Priestess stood at Olutuunde’s head and proclaimed to the night sky that her energy had raised to that of a Goddess. She spoke of her new powers and everyone stood in reverence to the birth of divinity before them. The last participant stood at the entrance to her soul. He took aim and penetrated her deeply. Olu reached yet another orgasm and a strange light appeared to emanate from somewhere within her. Graham blinked, thinking perhaps it was delirium and orgasm denial that had him seeing such things. He was in a dream state.

The last man fell to his knees and sobbed. He was carried away while everyone else seemed to still be at a feverish high. The High Priestess officiating called Graham’s name and said something in Yoruba that he could not understand. He knew his duty. He knelt between the legs of the Goddess. In true African tradition, the seed of the men that had collectively impregnated her could not be spilled. The other maidens could not be expected to perform such a duty, it was understood that only a white cum slut like Graham could perform such a task.

Graham swallowed hard again. Olutuunde’s cunt was raw and swollen and dripping with cum. Her inner pink flesh was crimson in color. Her sweat smelled sweet and the aroma from her pussy was a cum lover’s perfume. Graham was desperate to lick her, to clean her well fucked pussy. Her swollen clit looked like a tiny dick, hard and erect and needing attention. The blood rushed to his face. All at once, the reality that he was going to taste the cunt of a Goddess hit him and tried to run out of fear. He wasn’t worthy of such a task. The men assigned to guard the Goddess Mother held him by his arms, not allowing him to flee. The Most High Priestess grabbed him by the hair and moved his face closer and closer, his tongue just millimeters from the treasure. Graham was torn with emotion. He wanted to drink the cum from the Goddess Mother more than anything, he wanted to run, he was aroused at being controlled by the sexy men that towered above him and he wanted to stroke his cock with a desperation of a man that needed it to live.

His heartbeat was pounding louder than the drums and he heard sounds come from him that he didn’t recognize. He blacked out for a minute, only to be brought back to consciousness with his mouth lapping up the sweet cream of twenty black men. Through it all, he could taste the sweet cream of the Divine Mother Goddess. The silky smooth lips of her pussy were like velvet. She sat up for the first time for the evening and cum poured from her like a fountain and he tried to swallow it all. His lips formed a seal around her hole and he drank steadily. He swallowed mouthful after mouthful of what seemed to be an endless supply of Black cum. Assured that he wouldn’t run, the guards released Graham’s arms. Instinctively, he began stroking his hard cock. He drove his tongue deep inside the Goddess Mother and tried with all his might to lick her sweet inner walls. He was drunk with fantasies of sucking black cocks and eating shaved pussies and drinking the cum of superior men.



Graham reached up and spread the full, brown asscheeks of the Divine Goddess Mother and dove his tongue in to taste what cum had collected there. He tasted her musky flavors and stroked his own cock that much harder. Inspired by the attention to her asshole that had largely been neglected all night in lieu of her mission to conceive, Olutuunde began to relish the stimulation to her sensitive back hole. Alive with sexual energy, she began to hump her glorious, sexy asshole on Graham’s tongue. Graham, inspired by the thought that he could give pleasure to the Goddess-elect, began to zero in on her clit with the hopes of causing her to reach her final orgasm of the night.

He glanced momentarily at the others in an act of asking permission. No one made an effort to stop him. He held her lips open and embraced her sensitive spot with his lips. Olutuunde began moaning loudly. He used his tongue to lap at it gently, circling it, caressing it softly. He could feel her thighs tighten up around his head. He began a relentless assault with his tongue and lips on her clit and held on for dear life. He could feel the tremors in her legs start and her panting was out of control. He licked more. His cock was ready to explode. He sucked her clit and sent both Olu and himself over the edge of pleasure, crashing to a climactic ending.

That Sunday morning, everyone lounged casually and ate to recuperate. Graham wanted to recount the previous events with others, to talk about how he had made the Queen Goddess cum with his mouth, but no one had a reason to converse with him. He watched as everyone packed to return home and continue to go about their lives in an every day fashion. He rode home, blindfolded and painfully erect, only to be able to know that he still had the cum of 21 of the most superior and beautiful black people in his belly.

Copyright 2004 AfroerotiK