AfroerotiK

Erotic provocateur, racially-influenced humanist, relentless champion for the oppressed, and facilitator for social change, Scottie Lowe is the brain child, creative genius and the blood, sweat, and tears behind AfroerotiK. Intended to be part academic, part educational, and part sensual, she, yes SHE gave birth to the website to provide people of African descent a place to escape the narrow-mined, stereotypical, limiting and oft-times degrading beliefs that abound about our sexuality. No, not all Black men are driven by lust by white flesh or to create babies and walk away. No, not all Black women are promiscuous welfare queens. And as hard as it may be to believe, no, not all gay Black men are feminine, down low, or HIV positive. Scottie is putting everything on the table to discuss, debate, and dismantle stereotypes in a healthy exchange of ideas. She hopes to provide a more holistic, informed, and enlightened discussion of Black sexuality and dreams of helping couples be more open, honest, and adventurous in their relationships.

Wednesday, November 05, 2014

Twenty-four Hours


Men are so funny.  All that macho and bravado and arrogance, it’s a wonder they can accomplish anything.  I don’t know why they can never admit when they are wrong.  If Jesse hadn’t been so intent on proving his manhood, he would have never even dared to challenge me on my knowledge of Stevie Wonder.  Come on now, e’rybody with breath in their lungs should acknowledge that I am the Queen of all Stevie knowledge and I keep a running catalog in my head of albums, songs, lyrics, release dates and general Stevie trivia.  Hell, I could even name any Stevie tune in three notes.  Don’t step to the kid unless you are really sure of your bidness, cuz mama will have to embarrass you, and that’s not ever pretty.  Seriously, who on earth would even have the nerve to suggest that the birthday tribute to Dr. King wasn’t released on an album?  Everybody knows it was on Hotter than July, side two, the last track.  Duh, that’s Steveland Morris 101.  I don’t know what got into Jesse that day; usually he’s not prone to being competitive but he insisted that he was right and it was winner take all.  Imagine the look on his face when I pulled out my album, that right, I said my vinyl copy of the album and played it for him on my record player.  You heard me, my record player.



What did we bet?  Well, the loser had to fulfill all the winner’s sexual fantasies for 24 hours.  Not a bad prize at all for something that took no effort on my part.  I planned on making him work for it, too.  On Wednesday, I gave him the list of things I wanted him to do.  I spelled out every detail of what I wanted.  I wanted to be awakened with his tongue on my clit, licking me to orgasm, I wanted to cum in public, I wanted to have at least one anal orgasm, and I wanted him not to cum for the entire 24 hours, no matter what I did to him.  Pretty straight forward. pretty simple.  He had three full days to prepare so there would be no surprises.  He had an evil grin on his face for the rest of the week, planning and teasing me that I was going to be in trouble.  Uhmmm, I think he was missing the point.  I was the person who won the bet.  I was the person that was going to get all my fantasies; I was the one that was going to be able to cum.  If anyone was in trouble, it was going to be him.  



We decided that the twenty-four hours would start at 8 am on Saturday and last until 8 on Sunday.  That Friday night, you would have thought that he was trying to make me into an Acrobat with Universoul Circus.  He was flipping me and fucking me every which way till Sunday.  He was working out everything he needed to be ready for his twenty-four hours of sexual servitude without release and I who was I to stand in his way?  If I could be there to help him release all his sexual energy, well, a woman’s gotta do what a woman’s gotta do.  That’s just me, Ms Altruism, always thinking of others, benevolent to a fault.  After all, isn’t that what a great relationship is all about, compromise?



Seriously, Jesse had the stamina of a teenager and the technique of a Tantric master that night.  I came so many times I think I passed out.  I vaguely remember saying to myself, “Damn, I’m going to have to sleep in the wet spot because I am going to soak the sheets from cumming so many times.”  I also vaguely remember him pulling out and shooting all over my stomach and feeling him clean me up with a warm wash cloth, but honestly, I was in such bliss, I couldn’t swear in a court of law if he slept in the wet spot or if I did because I slept like a baby all night, knocked out, completely satisfied.  It was the kind of sleep you can only get after a couple rounds of intensely satisfying sex.



I felt the sun coming through the window, warming my face, and but that was most certainly not the first sensation that I awoke to that morning.  As I began to stir, I could feel Jesse living up to his first assignment.  I kept my eyes closed for a while, just languishing in the sensation, moaning ever so slightly.  I was coming out of a peaceful slumber and I was well on my way to cumming again.  I looked down and could see my baby camped out, making a breakfast buffet of my pussy.  He took his fingers, spread my lips, and softly licked my hardened clit.



“Good morning,” I moaned, as I grabbed his head and held it tight to my mound.  His tongue flicked quickly back and forth my sensitive spot and I almost jumped out of my skin.  I couldn’t even concentrate on holding his head because I was pulling my nipples, twisting them, humping my pussy on his mouth.



“Good morning to you sleepy head,” he said as he looked up momentarily, his face glistening with my juices.  “You’ll excuse me, but I have to get back to work.”  With that, his mouth went into over drive, licking my pussy in ways I don’t think I have ever had it licked before.  With just the right pressure, he sucked my clit, with just the right rhythm, he licked it too.  He drove his tongue deep inside me and it fluttered and flicked me to the edge of orgasm.



I was beside myself, losing my mind.  “Oh dear God that feels delicious, what the hell are you doing to me?  Whatever you do, don’t you dare stop, don’t you dare fucking stop.  That feels so fucking good.”  I was bucking my hips in the air and Jesse had his arms around my thighs, holding on for dear life.  I felt the sensations start, I felt the heat and the tingling at the same time.  My breathing started getting more labored, I shut my eyes tightly and I was lost to the pleasure.  “Oh baby, here it cums, I’m going to fill your mouth with my sweet pussy juice baby.  Oh fuck, don’t stop, yes, no, oh shit, agrhhhh.”  My body trembled with pleasure and I rode the wave.  I glanced over and looked at the clock and it said 9.  I had to wonder if he had been licking my pussy for an hour, if he had started late, or if had passed out again from such an intense orgasm.



I wanted to just lie there and bask in the afterglow of post climatic bliss.  Jesse had other plans.  Good Lord, what did I do to deserve that man?  I could smell the coffee brewing and the aromas of something really delicious.  I stumbled to the kitchen and breakfast was waiting.  That wasn’t part of the deal but who was I to complain?  Everything looked great, champagne, omelets just the way I liked them, chocolate chocolate chip muffins.  What else could I ask for?  I could have asked for a moments reprieve, actually.  Jesse made me take off my robe and eat in the nude, which would have been rather decadent and fun if he hadn’t been playing with my nipples constantly.  Nothing gets me aroused more than having my nipples stimulated and he would put marmalade on them, suck it off, driving me insane with lust in the process and getting my pussy incredibly wet, and go back to feeding me.  I couldn’t take the teasing, it was too intense.  Every time he would pinch and lick and suck my nipples, I would beg for him to ram his fingers in my pussy, finger fuck me, I was begging and pleading for him to just throw me on the table and fuck me.  “Jesse Lamont, if you don’t fuck me here and now I’m going to scream.  Stop teasing me.”  He smiled at me like he didn’t even acknowledge what I was saying.  It was more than obvious he was in control and he wasn’t going to let me cum, let alone fuck me like I wanted to be fucked.




After breakfast, we made it to the shower to get ready for the day.  I’d already had one of the most intense orgasms of my life first thing and my pussy was swollen and wet from being aroused during breakfast.  Taking a shower with him was almost too much to take.  Jesse’s body makes me weak in the knees on any given day.  That incredible brown skin, those shoulders, that chest.  I can’t take it; he’s so beautiful, I fall in love with him over and over again every time I see him smile.  Okay, damn, let me focus so I can tell you what else happened.  So, here we were, in the shower, and he’s soaping up my body with his incredible hands, running them over my flesh, down my back.  Things get a little heated and we start kissing, his tongue is exploring my mouth, I’m grabbing his dick and I’m stroking him, I can see his eyes roll back in his head as I squeeze his hard shaft and start using both hands in a steady rhythm, the suds providing the perfect slippery sensation as he’s grabbing my ass and telling me not to stop.  I was rolling his balls around in my fingers and he was rubbing my clit and biting on my neck.



Jesse grabbed my shoulders, turned me around, and pushed me against the wall.  He grabbed my hips and I could feel the hot water running down my back.  I braced myself, feeling my hardened, aching nipples on the cold tile.  “You are going to give me some of this pussy, right here, right now,” he said, and he took his dick and slammed it in me in one thrust.  I let out a moan like a wounded animal and it was met with a grunt from him that reverberated in the tiny space.  His dick felt delicious, sliding in and out of me, hitting my spot, pounding me, and stroking me.  I was backing my ass up on him and it was all I could do to hold on.  My knees were shaking and all I could feel was pleasure, when, without notice, he pulled out and fell against the far wall, squeezing his dick.  I couldn’t even think straight, I was so close to cumming and I just wanted to feel that explosion.  He stumbled out of the bathroom before I could collect myself and it took me more than a few minutes to regroup.



By the time I made it back to the bedroom, Jesse was halfway dressed and had my clothes laid out on the bed.  That’s not something he usually does so I figured it was part of the special day.  I really didn’t care what I was supposed to be wearing, I was too caught up in the fact that I was ready for this little dare to be over.  The more I tried to tease him, to get him to throw me on the bed and fuck me, the more he pushed me away, telling me that he had plans for us.  I can’t remember the last time I was this turned on, my pussy felt so swollen and wet, I was aroused in a way you can only experience when you are truly in love, completely at ease with someone.



He left me there to get dressed.  It was a whole new outfit, tags and all.  He knows my taste, that’s for sure, The white linen skirt was long, to the floor, but it had a really high slit up one leg and the salmon colored shirt showed off the girls but not too much.  I noticed that there was only a bra and no panties to I assumed that was intentional.  I slid on the sexy little sandals and I had to admit he did a great job.  It was really a very cute outfit; I couldn’t have done better myself.  When I was dressed, he grabbed my hand and we headed off to the local coffee shop hand in hand.  Java Jazz was our little hide away.  They played amazing jazz and had open mic nights and in this cozy little enclave that had sinful pastries and free wireless access.  We settled in on one of the sofas and got the paper.  I was oblivious, reading letters to the editor when Jesse reached over, put his hand on my exposed thigh, and whispered, “Spread your legs for me.”  In an instant, I was aroused again, but this time, I was looking around to see who could see us.  There were a few college students deep in their books and another couple sitting at a table not far away, engrossed in each other.  I tried to push his hand away but there was no use.  “Baby, come on, enough is enough, this was fun and all but the game is over, we don’t have to keep this up.”  I was nervous and tingling with anticipation at the same time.



He looked me deep in my eyes and said, “spread your legs for me,” and I’ll be damned if my legs didn’t respond to his command automatically.  Paranoid we were going to be arrested, and knowing damn well that I’m not the most quiet person in the world when I cum, I was trying to concentrate on watching the reactions of the other people.  It had always been my fantasy to be daring, to be somewhat of an exhibitionist, but to not get caught.  All I had to do was look at Jesse and he made everything seem okay.  I turned to face him and spread my legs.  He kept his focus directly on me; he didn’t divert his gaze for a moment.  His confidence made me that much more aroused as I felt his fingers spread my lips.  I bit my lower lip and tried to muffle a moan and I realized it was going to be a lot more difficult than I had originally thought to be discrete.  The way I was seated, I was sure no one could tell his hand was under my skirt but my heart was racing so fast, pounding out of my chest.



I bit my lip and tried my best to muffle my moans.  Jesse had a sly smile on his face and he kept whispering things in my ear.  “Damn, your pussy is so wet.  MMMM.  Does that feel good right there?  Is that your spot baby?  Are you going to cum for me?  His fingers were probing deeper and my breathing was getting more labored.  I glanced over and the couple that was previously engrossed in one another was focused on intently on us.  I couldn’t tell from the way they were sitting but it was entirely possible that he was fingering her as well.  I saw the look on her face.  I’m sure it was the same one that I had, fighting desperately not to lose my composure.  My heart was pounding out of my chest.  I shut my eyes tightly and prayed that my tiny moans of pleasure weren’t audible to everyone in the entire place.  “Jess, please, stop.  Oh, please, I can’t take much more.  I’m going to cum, please stop.”  He started fingering me harder, deeper, first one finger, then two; I was squirming and trying to hold my breath.  I was trying desperately not to cum, to fight the feeling but I realized that it was an exercise in futility.  I could feel my juices flowing freely Jesse started using his thumb to rub my clit.  I grabbed the edge of the sofa and I held on tightly.  Never before had I experienced an orgasm in such silence before.  I opened my eyes and tried to get my bearings.  I got my breathing under control and my sweetie was sitting there smiling and discretely smelling his fingers.  I grabbed his hand and pulled him out the door right before I glanced back and saw the woman seated at the table, gripping the arms of her chair and her breasts heaving like she was in the middle of her own special moment.



Once outside, in the bright afternoon sun, walking back towards our apartment, once I had collected myself from that fantastic experience I was livid.  I punched him in the arm.  “JESSE, you could have gotten us arrested.  When I said in public, I MEANT in our car, or maybe in a dark secluded corner of a smoke filled bar where no one could see.  NOT in the middle of the day with other people sitting 15 feet away.  Are you crazy?”



He just smiled and pulled me close to him.  I was standing on my tiptoes and looking up at his beautiful face, his hands were cupping my ass and I could feel the thickness of his dick against me.  He said something but I’ll be damned if I know the hell he said cuz I was so caught up in wanting to kiss him.  Damn, he is so fine.  Phew.



Anyway, we headed off to enjoy the rest of the day.  We went to the farmer’s market and got some fresh produce and spices, some bread and wine to go with the scallops and shrimp we were planning for dinner.  We went to the home improvement store to get some new patio furniture for our balcony but we couldn’t find anything we liked.  We couldn’t go more than 15 minutes without stopping to kiss and grope each other because we are just so hot for each other.  The whole day was filled with erotic tension.  I’m sure people were like, “Get a room,” but we didn’t really care.



All our errands done, we headed home to enjoy a lazy afternoon of watching marathon episodes of Law and Order on TNT.  We fixed dinner and ate wine and yelled at the TV screen and wondered why, in 186 years of the show, Jack McCoy has never had a male assistant.  After dinner, we snuggled on the sofa.  I was in between his legs and we were both in a state of half undress.  His arms were tightly around me and he had pulled my breasts out from my bra and was playing with my nipples casually and making sure that I felt his erection poking me in the back.  After our fourth back-to-back episode, it was more than apparent his attention was not on the State of New York, the police who investigate crimes nor the district attorneys who prosecute them.  He kissed my neck and whispered in my ear, “You realize I still have to make you cum in your ass tonight.”



“How do you do that,” I said, “How do you get me so hot for you in less than three seconds?”  Jesse knew my absolute most intense orgasm came from being stimulated anally.  He had saved the best for last.  I grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the bedroom.  I was anxious to get things underway considering for the last twelve hours I had been teased and pleased in ways that are almost indescribable.  I knew this was going to be fireworks.  We were pulling our clothes off and leaving a trail all the way to the bed.  I felt his entire weight on top of me and wrapped my legs around him tightly.  We kissed passionately for what seemed like an eternity.  I could feel his dick rubbing sensually against my lips; his mouth kissed it’s way down my body, licking my navel, tasting my fingers after I fucked myself.



I was sick of the tease and I decided it was time to move things ahead.  I push him off me, rolled over, and go up on my knees.  I put my head down on the pillow and I reached back to spread my cheeks.  “Baby, I don’t know why but you know I love when you lick my asshole, please, boo, put your tongue in me.  Drive me crazy the way you do.  You know it makes me feel so good.”



Never one to disappoint, he started rimming me, making my eyes roll back in my head.  If it wasn’t bad enough that his soft wet tongue was driving me insane, he was rubbing my clit at the same time.  I started moaning so loudly I’m sure the upstairs, downstairs and next-door neighbors could hear.  I was out of control.  “Baby, don’t stop, whatever you do, don’t stop.  I’m begging you, it feels so good.”



Now what on earth would make me think that he was going to listen to a word I said?  When I was gripping the sheets tightly and mumbling incoherently, this black motherfucker had the nerve to stop.  I’ll be damned.  “No please, put your tongue back, it feels so fucking nasty, it feels so fucking good, I love it, don’t tease me.  I wanna cum, I want to cum in my asshole.  Please baby, don’t tease me.  Please.  It feels so good.



The next thing I felt was the coolness of the lube being applied to my asshole.  He was rubbing his finger around on it and I got goose bumps thinking about what was going to come next.  He was stroking my cheeks and teasing me, putting his finger in me ever so slowly.  There’s something about anal stimulation that feels so primal, so earthy, so intense for me.  He was working his finger in and out and I was grunting like an animal.  I’m not even sure I realized that he had exchanged his finger for his dick until I felt both hands gripping my hips tightly.



“Okay, baby, follow my instructions, Okay?”  His words were calming but my temperature was on high.  I did everything he told me to do.  I pushed when he said push, I squeezed when he told me to, I stayed as still as a statue when he told me not to move.  I trusted him to take care of me and he knew exactly how to control the situation so I got maximum pleasure.



“Okay baby, I’m almost all the way in, I need you to take a deep breath for me so I can give you the last inch of this hard dick.  You like that, don’t you girl” he said.  I grunted my affirmation and took a deep breath.  He was all the way in and I was about to lose my mind.  He held perfectly still, waiting for me to get accustomed to his size.  I always let him know when I was ready to get fucked because I would start grinding my phat ass back on him, to stir it up and get to that place where I felt like I was experiencing pleasure in every pore in my body.  He grabbed my hips and started working his dick in and out.  I buried my face in the pillow to keep my moans of pleasure from having someone call the police.  I was chanting an erotic mantra, “It feels so good, it feels so nasty, it’s so deep, harder, it’s so tight, don’t stop, dick my ass, dick my asshole, make me feel it, yeah, I love your hard . . . oh shit . . . no. . I’m . . . fuuuuuuuuuck.



I felt his hot cum splash on my back.  We collapsed on the bed, exhausted and drained.  He pulled me to him and I was drifting in and out of consciousness.  “Damn girl, I didn’t hold up my end of the bargain.  I came and I wasn’t supposed to.  I guess I’ll just have to make it up to you with another twenty-four hours of complete sexual servitude to you.”





Copyright 2006 AfroerotiK



Scottie Lowe is the owner of www.AfroerotiK.com, a website dedicated to showing Black people in a positive sexual light and the author of In Loving Color, a cutting-edge book of erotica and photography for which she is seeking investors.


Sunday, November 02, 2014

Sometimes



Sometimes, the best seduction is slow and intentional, with lots of foreplay culminating in tender lovemaking.  Other times, hard, fast, furious fucking is the only thing that will satisfy that intense craving.  Her desire for him was complete, body, mind, and soul, so all that was left for her was to satisfy her hunger for him sexually. 

She lay back, spreading her legs, and inviting him to enter her.  He paused momentarily to taste her juices, to wrap his lips around her clit and suck it between his full, soft lips.  She was already soaking wet and his face was soon coated in her juices.  She wrapped her legs around his head and grabbed the back of his head, making sure she was going to shoot her first nut right in his mouth.  She fucked his face with her wet folds, thrashing, grinding, and humping her pussy on his mouth until she exploded in screams of passion and sensual release, delivering her creamy treat. 

He drank it all down and didn’t give her a minute to recuperate.    Her grabbed her legs and pulled them up on his shoulders, aiming his hard dick at her spasming hole.  He pinned her to the bed and rammed his dick in in one thrust, his balls resting on her phat ass.  She screamed out pain and pleasure as she gripped the sheets and chanted, “Fuck me, fuck me,” over and over again. 

Following her instructions to the letter, he went deeper, harder, slamming her pussy with the full weight of his body.  She grabbed his ass and tried to pull him deeper, the sweat on their bodies creating a sheen.  He could feel her walls tightening up and he knew she was close to orgasm again.  He pulled out and sat back for a moment and she cried out like a wounded animal, desperate to feel his thickness inside her again. 

Not a woman to be denied, she used her secret weapon.  Turning over, she got on her knees and looked back at her lover.   She lowered her head to the pillow and reached back and pulled her ass cheeks apart.  She winked her sexy hole at him and taunted him, teased him, dared him to give her that pounding like she craved. 

Copyright 2007 AfroerotiK

Saturday, November 01, 2014

Savannah Film Festival




The first week in November is my favorite time of the year.  It’s the time of the annual Savannah Film Festival and my own personal time for indulgence.  I just pack up a bag and head down to Savannah where I’m transported to a different place in time.  If I’m lucky, I can catch the fall foliage colors, hit the museums, and listen to some great jazz while I’m there as well.   Usually, I go as a spectator, taking in the film and surrounding myself with culture.  This year was going to be particularly special for me.  I was going to be debuting my first erotic short film.  Upon leaving last year, I decided I could do the same thing some of those other people I had done and set out to tell my story on celluloid.  I was nervous because there was no “genuine” Black erotic film out there and I was afraid of how it was going to be received.  I didn’t want people to think it was porn and I didn’t want intellectuals overanalyzing what I was intending to do.  I wanted to present to the world twenty minutes of cerebral dialogue, intense emotions, and exquisite lovemaking between Black people. 

I was disappointed because it was yet another milestone in my life where I didn’t have a partner with whom I could share my accomplishment.  I couldn’t dwell on it; I had to expose myself to the world.  I knew most people wouldn’t be able to appreciate it, so I just meditated on staying grounded.  I spent the morning in Forsyth Park right across the street from my Bed and Breakfast.  For me, staying in the Magnolia Inn was a far different experience than the other guests.  For me, it was a reminder of the slaves that labored to build its opulence while they lived as less than humans.  I thought of the black women that had been the possessions of white genteel masters that had to entertain late nights in the very chambers where tourist now casually laid their heads and long for the days of old.  No, for me, Savannah was the vehicle to my history, a dark and painful past that came alive to me in the tortured whispers of my ancestors. 

The Lucas Theater was relatively packed.  I held my breath and recited my brief introduction like I had rehearsed 52 times in my bathroom mirror.  I was praying that people would not be able to tell that I had never directed a community play before, let alone an erotic film.  I closed my eyes and let the entire thing play out in my head, I knew every second of that film by heart.  By the time it was over I had finally exhaled.  The kudos and the backslapping reigned down supreme.  Everyone was congratulating me on a job well done and talking to me about features and a whole bunch of movie industry terms I had never heard of . . . but I played along like I had. 

I saw him lingering in the periphery, waiting to make his approach.  He looked nervous almost, or hesitant might have been a better description.  The crowd thinned out and he made his way to me.  “I loved the fact that you gave him a sense of responsibility.  He was selective with whom he slept, I appreciate that commentary.  So many sexual representations of Black men make us out to be callous and indiscriminate with our partners.  Thank you.”  He turned and started to walk away without further introduction. 

“Wait . . . thanks . . . wait . . .”  There was something about his demeanor that, while soft-spoken, was genuine.  “No one else got that.  Everyone else thought it was just about the sex.”  He turned to face me and I couldn’t tell which one of us was more unsettled.  I didn’t want him to walk away but I was scared to appear too eager.  He was beautiful, there was no denying it, but more than anything I wanted to ask him what he thought, how the movie made him feel.  We stood in silence and stared at each other in awkward pause.  “My name is Robert, I really loved your work.”  We grinned and exchanged pleasantries through the awkwardness. 

“Do you have plans for dinner,” he asked, “If you like seafood, the Sapphire Grill is the best place in town.  I’d love it if you joined me.  We can celebrate the debut of AfroerotiK.”   It looked like it took every ounce of courage in him to ask me but I was the one that was nervous and flattered and speechless.  I felt like a schoolgirl being asked out to prom.  I accepted and he agreed to pick me up at 8.

Dinner was magical.  The conversation was seamless; we laughed and talked well into the evening.  We spoke of erotica and what it meant to us as Black people.  He listened intently as I went off into my passionate discussion of my work and what I wanted it to accomplish.  Wine loosened my inhibitions and I inched closer whenever I could, I made a point to rest my hand on his arm when he made a particularly interesting point.  I let my leg linger on his under the table and made sure my eye contact let him know in no uncertain terms that I was attracted.  I was feeling rather brazen, at least for me who spends the majority of my time in front of a monitor with little or no human interaction for weeks at a time. 

We stood at the steps of the Magnolia Place and talked some more.  “So, I have to ask one more thing. Was your film about your own personal experience?”  If anyone else had asked me that I would have been offended.  That was personal information that no one had a right to know.  The truth of the matter was that I was in everything that I wrote, every erotic story I created.  I knew my feelings and motivations better than anyone, so I didn’t have to guess what a character would say, or how she would react.  All of my erotica represented a side of me that didn’t have an outlet in real life. 

I looked him intently in his eyes and, without answering, took his hand in mine and turned to walk up the ivy-covered steps of the inn.  There was no turning back and I didn’t even have time to formulate a plan.  I was going off of pure adrenaline, and merlot.  Andrew Jackson would probably be rolling in his grave if he knew the things that were going to happen between the two descendents of slaves in the room named after him.  I didn’t want to speak; it would have broken the spell.  I just wanted this to transpire like a movie in my mind—a sensual, erotic scenario of artistry and magic. 

I kept the lights off as we entered the room and dropped my bag by the door.  I didn’t have to worry about what to do next as Robert turned me around and pulled me to him.  I loved that masculine instinct that took over, that thing men do when they want to unleash that primal beast.  It supercedes the reserved, conservative nature that some men have.  It’s so sensual; it makes me feel wanted and desired.  He pulled me into his arms and I reveled in the sensation.  I could feel his hands caressing the small of my back.  I didn’t want to speak because that would have broken the spell.  If I started talking, my doubts and fears would have crept in.  I didn’t want this to stop.  I wanted to live life for once with no safety net. 

The heat was intense between us.  I threw my head back and felt his lips on my neck.  My fever was rising.  I was unbuttoning his buttons as we moved backwards to the bed.  His kisses tasted sweet, his tongue was soft and yielding.  He gently laid me back on the bed and undid the ties of my wraparound dress.  I felt sexy, revealing myself to him like that.  My breasts were aching to be touched and caressed.  My eyes had adjusted to the dim light that peaked through the heavily curtained windows and I watched as he undressed at the foot of the bed; his golden brown skin a delicious contrast to my slightly darker mocha.  My hands caressed my secret places in anticipation.  He lifted my hips and removed my wet panties.  He held them to his face and inhaled deeply my scent. 

I slid back on the bed and he prepared his complete and relentless seduction. My neck was his first target and he kissed and sucked it, cradling in the gentle slope of my throat, licking his way to from my shoulder to my ear.  I threw my head back and moaned; it was my signal to him that I loved every second of his attention.  He found my hot spot and began gently sucking on it while his hands found my breast and began massaging them.  My nipples were aching from arousal as he slid his mouth lower and began sucking and licking all over my breasts.  My arousal was climbing to a fevered pitch as he was arousing me like he had a map to my body and knew exactly how to pleasure me.    I watched in amazement as he kissed his way down my stomach and made my belly button into an erogenous zone.  He made love to my tummy with his mouth; pampering me in a unique way no one else had ever thought to do.  The teasing became more intense.  Robert began kissing his way down the fronts of my legs, my hips, my inner thighs, every place except my incredibly aroused pussy. 

He positioned himself between my legs.  I was grabbing the sheets and thrusting my hips forward trying to get his to lick me.  He was blowing hot breath on my parted and aroused lips; the moistness of my inner flesh evident on my pink folds.  His mouth made love to my sweet, sticky center.  His tongue softly licked my clit and made me cry out with pleasure.  His fingers entered me and drove me to the edge of orgasm.  He was playing my body like a fine tuned instrument.  Giving me pleasure became his sole objective.  I was mumbling incoherently, “Yes . . . oh shit . . . yeah, lick my pussy . . . fuck . . . fuck me.”  I was pulling my nipples and his hands were caressing every inch of skin he could reach.  I placed my hands on his bald head and rested them there because he didn’t need instruction where to go.  He held my long legs up in the air and broke his silence with a pointed question, “Do you want me? ” 

I needed him more than I needed air at that moment.   I let my eyes respond, my eyes, my body and my heart.  I was relinquishing control, giving myself to passion.  I couldn’t stop; there was no turning back.  I didn’t want to be reserved and alone.  I wanted to feel like a woman and I wanted Robert to take me there. 

My moans were louder than they should have been.  He was teasing me and he knew it.  I needed to feel him inside me and he was torturing me with his slow seduction.  His mouth lowered to my hard nipples and I cradled his face in my hands.  I watched him in awe as his left hand touched my body like a paintbrush to a canvas.  He stopped only to position himself at my core and drive himself inside me in one thrust. 

“Mmmmm, no, yes, wait, don’t stop.”  My hands grabbed his ass and pulled him to me.  We fell into a rhythm, a solitary unit of passionate expression.  I was riding high and about to cum.  I shut my eyes tight and felt it about to hit me.  I pulled him to me and wanted to feel every ounce of his weight on me as I reached that place that I can only find in the passionate embrace of a beautiful black man.  His body tensed and I could tell his orgasm was only a minute or two behind mine.  My wetness coated him and added to the soundtrack of pleasure we were experiencing. 

He held me in his arms and I drifted off into a peaceful slumber.  I already knew what my submission to next year’s festival was going to be. 

Ó 2003 AfroerotiK