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

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



Dominant Black Tales and Submissive White Tails



Did she have a hidden agenda? Was her desire to dominate white men driven by some racial hatred or need to seek revenge for her enslaved ancestors? By all outward appearances, that would appear to be the case. Mistress Desire was far more complex than superficial appearances would allow. Black, strong, confident, and proud, there was no mistaking that the Domina was proud of her African heritage and took pleasure in reducing her white submissives to whatever it was that they feared the most. There was a certain subtlety she possessed that could not be defined by labels.


She chose to meet him in a very public bar. It was a gay bar in fact, and it was on the evening of the citywide famous drag show. Queens weren’t the only people in attendance, butches, studs, lipsticks, straights, bisexuals and everyone in between showed up to revel in the god damned decadence and defiance the night represented. Anyone who wanted to thumb their nose at the status quo and acknowledge that they couldn’t be defined sexually by the strict and puritanical morals of the Bible belt felt comfortable showing up. There was plenty of hootin’ and hollerin’ for the glammed up female impersonators doing yet another rendition of “Rollin on the River” and “It’s Raining Men.” Her date for the evening did not fit in that category. After hours of subtle interrogation, she had determined that his greatest fear was being seen for who he really is. He was an introvert, a social recluse of sorts that wanted to keep his desires hidden from everyone, including himself. Inside, he was a slut. Not just any slut, a slut of the most insatiable, perverted, depraved kind. He wanted someone to force him to bring out his dark fantasies and help him to become who he felt he really was inside.


She was taking a chance that he wouldn’t show but she was betting that the chemistry and the desperation he felt to fulfill his desires would be motivation enough for him to make the leap into the unknown. She positioned herself at the far end of the bar at a table where she could see him enter. If her assessment was wrong and he didn’t show up, she would entertain herself with the spectacle of others that wanted to exhibit their sexuality for the entire world to see. He hadn’t cum in over three weeks and he had been nightly aroused with descriptive tales of her fantasies and desires. The Internet and the phone were vastly different than the adventure he was about to go on however.


Stevie Wonder could have seen him walk through the front door. Nervous as hell, he looked around the place needing only the tiniest of excuses to turn around and leave. The promises of mind-blowing strapon anal assaults and wild, uninhibited sexual release propelled him to move forward. He spotted her immediately. She didn’t have to signal for him or make her presence known to him; she exuded the regal stature whereby he knew her immediately. He made his way to her table and she had his favorite drink waiting for him. He downed it with one gulp and nervously looked around taking in all the sights.


“Bryan, did you do as I instructed?” He lifted his arm that had been lying casually in his lap above the table and showed his baby smooth, hairless body; the only hair remaining on his body being under his arms and above the neck. She placed her hand under the table and felt for the evidence of his other command. Apparent through his clothes was a harder than steel erection and the telltale signs of a cock ring. He swallowed hard as she stroked him through his clothes, knowing full well that he couldn’t cum restrained as he was. They settled back and began to converse; controlling the flow of the exchange with her eyes and her will. He knew he was being dominated and it was more than sexual.


She draped her legs over his and he instinctively began to massage her silken calves. He swallowed hard as he glanced down and realized that her pussy was exposed just inches away from him under her short dress. “Listen, can we get out of here? I did what you asked and I’m just not comfortable here,” he stammered, his eyes darting around the room to make sure no one he knew was there. She laughed politely and ignored his comment, stroking his exposed arm and caressing his face with her soft fingertips.


As the lights dimmed and a slow song began to play to supplement the time between performances, they were interrupted by the most breathtaking Black man in the bar approaching the table. Dressed impeccably, not a bit shy of 6’2”, masculine, and looking like he stepped off the pages of a magazine, he extended his hand to the nervous submissive and said, “Would you care to dance?”


“No thanks, I’m not gay,” Bryan managed to eek out, looking like a dear caught in headlights more than unassuming business professional that wielded so much confidence at his place of work.


“He’d love to,” Desire answered, moving her legs and placing her submissive’s hand gently in that of his suitor’s.


He was in a state of shock. He had specifically told Mistress Desire that he wouldn’t do anything with another man. He was straight. The confusion in his eyes, the panic, the anger overwhelmed him. He had limits that were not negotiable. Being submissive and being gay were too different things. “He stood firm on his decision, “No thanks,” he said with determination, “I’m not gay.”


He reached for his keys in his pocket and began to stand. “Listen, I don’t know what sort of games you are playing but I’m not interested, Go fuck yourself bitch.”


Desire laughed at his defiance, placed her hand gently on his arm, and leaned in close. Her voice was sweet and gentle. “Bryan, you are standing on the verge of all of your dreams come true. Before you leave, think about everything that we’ve been through to get to this point, are you willing to throw it all away for a dance? Think of all the nights online where your heart felt like it was pounding out of your chest and you were begging me to use you in any way possible. Think about the things you went through to gain my favor. You know I’m the only woman that can push you past your fears. Are you ready to throw that all away for a silly little dance? If you leave, you’ll go home and jerk off in solitude dreaming of the things that could have been. Do you want to do that Bryan? Do you want to abandon the potential for your wildest fantasies to come true?”


Her voice never went above a whisper. “You can leave you little bitch but don’t you dare think of contacting me again. Think about trying to find another Mistress like me that will make you feel like the depraved dirty slut that I bring out in you. Haven’t you always wanted to be the submissive bitch boy to a superior Black domme? The night of indescribable sensation that you’ve waited for is there for you. All you have to do is dance. Go! I won’t think about you ever again, but can you say the same thing about me?”


The synapses in Bryan’s brain were misfiring. He was pissed and aroused. The gentleman waiting for the dance chimed in, tired of waiting and said, “Listen, don’t worry about it.” He turned to walk away.


“Wait,” Bryan said meekly. Desire leaned even closer, the warmth of her body penetrating Bryan’s aura. She whispered something in his ear and leaned back. Bryan stood, fighting back the tears, and said with defiance in his voice, “Wait, I’d love to dance.” He knew that the dance was not the not to be the end of his test.


Slightly shorter than this beautiful specimen of a man before him, he didn’t even know where to place his hands. His dance partner took control. He placed Bryan’s arms around his neck and pulled Bryan close. Bryan swallowed hard, his frustration showing in the color in his cheeks. The alcohol in his system allowed him to relax just enough, knowing that this humiliation would be over in less than three minutes. He shut out the people around him and danced, it was more like moved to the music; he was never really that good of a dancer. Bryan had to hold on to reality. He was getting confused. The arms around his waist made him feel sexy. A feeling of security and arousal enveloped him. The sexy black shoulder that he rested his head upon was comforting. He could feel full lips brush against his neck and he yielded to the temptation to moan ever so slightly at the sensation. Strong Black hands caressed his ass. He froze momentarily; his ass had always been a highly erogenous zone for him but he made sure that he only fantasized about women taking him there. However, behind the safety of his closed eyes, in the secure embrace of the beautiful man that held him, he erotically thrust his ass back and forth, fantasizing about being fucked by his Mistress later on. The hands grabbing his ass were forceful and he loved the sensation of being taken . . . forced, which only cause him to grind his ass harder and harder against his dance partner.


“Uhmmm, the song’s over. Would you like another dance?” Bryan was snapped back into reality.


“No . . . hell no! I was just dancing with you because . . . No.” Bryan knew his defensiveness was transparent but he had to maintain his façade of defiance if only for his own sense of well-being.


Back at the table, Mistress Desire chuckled as Bryan slid into the seat next to her. The Black gentleman slid into the booth across from them. “You were so right Desire, his little cock was hard the entire time. And the way he was grinding his ass on me, I can tell he’s going to be one hot fuck.”


“I told you his slutty side would come out, Derrick. When will you learn to trust me?” Their laughter burning his ears like acid would burn his flesh. They were sitting there causally discussing his little cock, his slutty nature, and the plans that they had made to in advance. Bryan was incensed. He fumed at the thought that this was all a set up and he mumbled something under his breath. He stood to rise and leave when the gentleman said, “Sit down, bitch. We didn’t tell you that you could leave.”


A lump formed in his throat as Bryan felt helpless to move. His cock had no such limitations. It was raging hard and hurting from being constrained as it was. The casual power that the Black man had over him at that moment made him feel like the submissive slut he had longed to feel like. He wondered momentarily if they had slipped something in his drink to make him have . . . you know, those kinds of thoughts.


“What’s going on here? I thought . . .” he was mumbling incoherently. Desire giggled and ignored him momentarily.


“Oh, forgive my manners. Bryan, I would like you to meet Derrick. He’s my lover. We like to play together. He’s the male version of me, don’t you think? Derrick . . . you’ve already met Bryan.” The rapid eye movement of Bryan indicated confusion. “You didn’t honestly think someone as breathtaking as him would actually be attracted to someone like you, did you?” She laughed even louder, Bryan afraid that her amusement would be draw attention to them. He felt unattractive with her comment but that somehow aroused him even more. He wondered what people would think, a white man sitting there with two Black people. He was sure everyone in the place could read his mind. Bryan couldn’t even discern his own thoughts at that moment. All sorts of thoughts ran through his mind about what the two of them had in mind for him. He feared the outcome if he decided to let them go through with their plans and he was terrified of letting the extreme sensation of arousal that he was experiencing go.


For years, his attraction to Black women had consumed his every fantasy. He loved their strength and their assuredness. He loved their comfort and sophistication. White women hadn’t aroused him in the better part of four years or more. They were insignificant to him except on the rare occasion he fantasized about having a white wife that would be a slut for black cock. Occasionally, he would dream of having a white wife that craved huge black cocks fucking her mouth, pussy and asshole unmercilessly while he served the Black wives of those men in whatever degrading or humiliating ways they saw fit. Those thoughts didn’t seem realistic, his conservative wife would never think of such things, so he dismissed them as a fleeting fantasy. He was comfy defining himself as submissive to Black women. A submissive of the most extreme proportions. If he were to allow himself to be honest and frank about his own desires, there had been many nights he has dreamt of being forced to be a cross-dressing sissy for Black cock, but he wanted to be “forced” so he could absolve himself of the guilt of desiring those yummy Black studs. He allowed himself to freely fantasize about Black women all the time, and all the things that he would do for them.


“Let’s go,” her directive was simple and to the point. Out into the night air, Bryan had more reservations. All the “ifs” and the “what ifs” and logistics were causing him to panic. He stood helpless, like a child, waiting for further instruction. They were in control.


Derrick and Mistress Desire kissed in the darkness and shadows of the parking lot. They held hands and ignored Bryan but they were ever aware of his presence behind them as they made out while he watched. They approached an SUV and opened the back door and Derrick turned momentarily to tell Bryan to get in. Other than that, they were ignoring him as if he was insignificant to their arousal. Bryan, on the other hand, was mesmerized watching them kiss. Their skin looked so . . . different. They seemed so . . . powerful. It was intoxicating to watch them together.


He stepped in the back seat and closed the door behind him as he regretted not telling someone whom he was going to meet, getting some significant contact information from this woman in case something went wrong. Derrick drove while he and Desire chatted and laughed and occasionally looked in the rear view mirror. He went to adjust his cock as it had been hard for hours before meeting her and the dull ache in his nuts was a sweet and painful reminder of that fact. He wanted those nuts to be kicked, slapped, and twisted at the hands of the gorgeous mistress that sat in the passenger side of the truck in front of him. His boypussy was throbbing thinking about being fucked savagely. The pair in front of him seemed so sensuous, so oblivious to his presence, he wondered if they would forget about him and leave him to stroke his hard cock while he watched them make love or if he would be allowed to cum at all.


His thoughts were about to be answered as they pulled into the driveway of a lovely home. It was secluded and well maintained and more fears crept into his mind. He had more fears and more fantasies of what was to come as well. Desire slid the door open and said, “Get out.” He complied eagerly, in a fog of lust at that stage from the hours of pent up arousal.


As he stepped into the night air again, Bryan felt more alive than he had ever felt in his life. Mistress Desire circled him, her body close without touching him. She ran her nails along the side of his face lightly, sending chills down his body. “Undress,” she said calmly.


Bryan looked around confused. Surely, she was not going to make him undress in the driveway. It was too early in the evening; people were awake, watching television, someone might see.


“Undress now!”


As if in a trance, Bryan began to undress in the middle of the driveway. Derrick had entered the house and was nowhere in sight. He wasn’t sure what to do with his clothes so he folded them as he undressed and placed them in a neat pile on the ground. He removed his shoes first, feeling more comfortable with that accessory than a major piece of clothing. He removed his shirt next. At that moment, he wished he had the smooth, rippling muscles that most black men seemed to have and he felt ashamed of his pale complexion. Next to go were his pants. His tightie whities bulged obscenely in the front from the erection he was sporting and the cock ring in place. He pulled his socks off and stood in anticipation of his next command. He felt even more naked because he was hairless. Somehow, it made him feel more vulnerable.


“I said undress.” Her voice was so damned soothing and melodic, he felt helpless to deny her anything.


He slid his underwear down, his erection bobbing in the night air. Even at full erection, he was barely six inches. He always told inevitable Internet lie that he was six inches erect but that was only in the most extreme state of arousal. Tonight, he was convinced he might be a little more than six even.


Mistress Desire stroked his cock in the cool night air. The sensation was indescribable. Her hands were so soft and silky, he was under her control, people could be watching, and he knew that he had planned a night to explore his wildest fantasies. He moaned out loud as she stroked him with skill.


“Tell me what you want, Bryan. Tell me why you are here.”


The words came tumbling out of his mouth as if they had been rehearsed. “I want to be used by you, my superior Black queen. I want you to put me in my place as the inferior white boy that I am. I want you to take out your frustrations on me and make me your bitch. Humiliate me, Mistress. Force me to do unspeakable things. I want you to show me that you have power over me. Use me any way you see fit, Mistress. I belong to you.”


The more he confessed his desires, the more she stroked him. This Black woman, fully dressed, masturbating a completely nude white male in, seemingly her front yard, making him spill his guts. If anyone were looking they would have gotten an eyeful.


“Put your clothes in the backseat and bend over with your hands on the floor of the truck. He did what he was instructed to do and waited even further instruction.


“Let’s see if this pussy is as slutty as you claim it is,” she mused.


She spread his ass cheeks and rubbed her fingertip over his hole. He let out a slight moan. His knees were shaking and he was glad that he could brace himself on the frame of the truck, his ass exposed for the entire world to see. Mistress Desire slid her finger in to his unlubricated hole. That was nothing to him, he had gotten so used to fucking himself he actually leaked “pussy juice” as he called it when he was horny. His ass was always ready to be penetrated by a huge, black dildo any time of the day or night. She began fingering him harder, driving him to maniacal fits of pleasure.


She was giving him more pleasure than he had ever imagined. Gone were all inhibitions and he was anxious for more. “Oh, yessssss, Mistress. Finger my pussy, pleaaase.” If her fingers were just a little longer, she could have reached his spot. She knew exactly what she was doing and she worked his pussy like a pro.


She pulled her fingers out of his ass abruptly, causing him to cry out, his moans echoing off the cul-de-sac serenity. “Get on your hands and knees and crawl to the front door. Wait there until you are allowed in.” With that, she walked away up the walkway and entered the home.


Bryan was lost. He stood shakily and closed the truck door quietly, hoping not to draw any more attention than his previous moans and display had garnered. He willingly got on his hands and knees and crawled on the walkway to the front door. His hands and knees ached from the concrete but he relished the pain in anticipation of his fate to come. He knelt submissively at the door and waited. He suspected that they were watching him so he posed like a prize animal at a show. He arched his back and thrust his ass high in the air, showing that he was ready for anything. He lowered his head in submission, to prove that he was lowly and insignificant. His erection couldn’t be seen in his kneeling position but it was red from arousal and restraint. He wanted to be beautiful to all the eyes watching him, to whomever they may have belonged. He didn’t care if the nosey neighbors saw him; in fact, he wanted them to see him for who he really was. He wanted to be on display as a submissive to Blacks and he was proud of that fact.


In an instant, the porch lights were turned on and he was flooded with light. He maintained his composure and pride, sticking his ass out even more and lowering his head to the ground. His asshole was throbbing and desperate for penetration and his soul craved humiliation. At that moment, the door opened and he heard his Mistress command him to come in. He crawled forward with confidence and agility.


She stroked him like a pet, running her hands through his hair and down his back. Bryan purred like a kitten and humped the air like a bitch in heat. She placed a collar around his neck but he was afraid to tell her it was a little too tight so he suffered in silence. It was a good discomfort, one he would gladly suffer for the Divine Mistress that stood above him. She put a leash on his collar and pulled him in the direction of a back room. The carpet under his knees felt good compared to the concrete but the pain in his nuts was ever present.


She opened the door to a playroom and pulled him in unceremoniously. The furnishings were sparse but there was no denying it was a room for hedonistic desires. Not quite a dungeon and far from a spare bedroom, there were toys and tables, and chairs that had been designed for play. Derrick was there, naked and erect, oiled and glistening, a vision of ebony perfection. She dropped the leash and commanded Bryan to stay, like a puppy being trained. Desire and Derrick conspired, whispering and planning what to do with their toy. Derrick assisted her in undressing, the way they interacted making them look like dancers more so than anything else. Her body was a work of art. Her skin looked like the smoothest velvet and her curves were a sculptor’s dream.


She walked over to a table and picked up a strapon. Derrick helped her put it in place as Bryan began to whimper unconsciously at the thought of what was to come. “Silence, bitch,” as she continued to secure her harness and what looked like a nine inch black dildo to her sleek frame. Bryan was dizzy with lust and confusion.


Desire sat in a chair and motioned for Bryan to come closer. “This, my pet, is going to be very simple. You are going to suck my dick until you prove that you are a cock craved whore and then you are going to get your slutty white boycunt pounded by the most formidable Black cock that you’ve ever seen. Does that sound okay with you?”


Bryan nodded furiously as he was anxious to get underway. She leaned back in the chair casually and Bryan took in every inch of her beauty. Her face was a face that could launch a thousand ships; her body was athletic and toned. Her nipples were dark and puffy and Bryan longed to feel them in is mouth. Her legs were out of this world. They seemed to go on forever. She stroked her strapon like it was real flesh. He approached her with confidence. He had sucked his own toys enough to know exactly how to do it. He had prepared himself to deepthroat dildos that didn’t look humanly possible to swallow.


His assault was calculated. He wanted to show her a cocksucker like she had never seen before. He had often fantasized what it would be like to have such a huge dick and he had practiced sucking his toys the way he would want his cock sucked if he were a black man. He maintained eye contact with her as he began to lick sensuously up and down the shaft. He licked the head and circled it with his tongue and began stroking it with his hand methodically. He licked up and down the shaft, inching his mouth closer and closer to the sweet pussy that lay underneath, the scent of it making his little red cock leak profusely with precum. He placed his mouth over the head and began his descent. Barely more than half of it was in his mouth and it was already hitting the back of his throat. It was thicker than he had ever sucked before but he was determined to show her that he was a good slut for her.


Her words fueled his passion to do an even better job. “Come on you dirty white cocksucker, show me what a slut you are for my juicy black cock. Suck my beautiful black dick. Tell me you love it.”


He went into a cocksucking frenzy. “Yes, Mistress. I’m in love with your big, black cock. It tastes so good in my mouth. I love being your white cocksucker. Feed me your cum.” He was sucking harder and faster, taking it deeper and deeper. His spit was dripping down the side; he wanted to be like the white whores he saw in all the videos that gave messy blowjobs.


She grabbed the back of his head and forced him all the way down on her “cock.” He choked and gasped for air and he felt like he was going to pass out. The head of the black toy was deep in his throat and he felt like he was going to puke. He kept sucking. He sucked and she pumped until they were in a rhythm. He was taking every inch down his throat in every thrust. Every time she would let him up for air, she would ask him, “Do you want some more?” He nodded affirmatively but he eagerness was evidenced in the fact that he wouldn’t stop sucking and licking that sexy black strapon.


“You’re ready to get your pussy fucked, aren’t you?” He nodded uncontrollable, only stopping for a few seconds before he continued to lick and suck and swallow her strapon. “Derrick, get him ready for me, will you please?”


Bryan froze for a second. He was past the point of pretense or care and all he wanted was to be used. He arched his back as he felt lubricant being poured on his hole. Derrick’s fingers were longer, thicker, and penetrated him more completely than Desire’s fingers had previously done. He moaned in appreciation of the stimulation and sucked that much more. She kept taunting him with her words,” you want to get fucked by a big black cock, to be a white faggot whore to be used by the Superior Black race, don’t you?


He didn’t have time to answer. His mouth was crammed full of the strapon and he was sucking it like a whore. At that instant, he felt the head of Derrick’s dick at the entrance to his pussy. He reached his hand back to feel its size and to guide it in but he wasn’t prepared for what he encountered. It was as thick as a beer can and twice as long.


“Noooo,” he cried out, “I can’t take that, please no.” The words coming out of his mouth rang of fear but his heart told a different tale. He craved the pain of being used by Black people to rid him of his horrible guilt, to make him feel as inferior had he knew himself to be. He wanted to be fucked like a white rag doll and he wanted to earn his punishment. The head burned as it penetrated him and he turned back to suck the strapon to distract himself. Desire had unhooked the dildo and spread her legs wide and presented him with her wet slit.


Bryan was experiencing sensory overload. A Black man was about to fuck him with the biggest black cock he had ever seen and before him was a sexy Black woman shoving her pussy in his face. He cried out, “Fuck me. Fuck my mouth, Fuck my pussy. Use me. Fuck me!!!” Tears formed in his eyes. He was lowered to a mass of flesh and lust at the hands of these Ebony gods.


The cock in his ass pushed its way past his sphincter and deep into his bowels. It hurt. It was the kind of pain ushered in by the grandest pleasure. The sweet, sexy pussy in his face tasted like heaven. He felt what he previously thought was impossible . . . Derrick’s balls were firmly against his own. He was impaled on that massive meat.


He licked the clit in his face furiously as he wanted his Mistress to come in his mouth. “More . . . more . . . more,” he kept chanting.


Derrick began slapping his ass and calling him names and it sent Bryan into a lust-driven high. The pounding was harder now; he was being fucked without mercy. His guts ached, his prostate had never had that sort of stimulation and he was eating the wet musky cunt of his sexy Nubian Mistress. His tears were uncontrollable. His balls were aching. He started stroking his own cock uncontrollably as he unsnapped the cock ring and let out a cry. His cum exploded from his prick as Desire held his head to her spasming pussy and Derrick unloaded blast after thick blast of thick, hot cum in his well used pussy. He passed out from the pleasure and the pain.


It was early morning when they dropped him off at the parking lot of the gay bar where they met. They had used him in so many delicious and unspeakable ways he couldn’t remember them all. They were kinder to him then when they first met, treating him like a pet now more than a plaything. He was desperate for some sign that he had pleased them. “Will I see you again? Would you like to use me some more?” The longing in his eyes a telltale sign of the delight he had taken in being fucked so completely.


“Know that tonight was child’s play compared to what you will experience again,” Desire said. They drove off into the early morning, masters of dominant pleasure.


Copyright 2004