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Peace and Plenty Disclaimers
The following story is completely fictional. Any similarities between any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. HIV, the virus that causes the deadly disease AIDS, can be prevented with the practice of abstinence or monogamous relations with a partner that has been tested and proven to be negative. The use of latex condoms greatly reduces the risk of infection for HIV. Please practice safe sex when having intercourse, refrain from behaviors that could put you at risk for getting the virus and get tested often. All content is the exclusive copyright content of AfroerotiK. No part shall be duplicated or redistributed without the express written consent of AfroerotiK.

Every relationship undergoes key pivotal points in its evolution. Casual dating transitions to an exclusive arrangement. Exclusivity begets genuine feelings of love. Love ushers in cohabitation: a combining of lifestyles and possessions, a bold declaration that the pairing has a sense of permanence, and a testing ground for matrimony. Of course, there are sexual acts as well that serve as major milestones in a relationship. The exploration of fantasy and sharing a “first” builds trust and intimacy and signals a stronger, more tangible bond. For Jamie and Shawn, their two-year relationship was about to turn the corner into un-chartered territory. The plans were made, the date was set, the cable had been cut off . . . all the details were in place for Shawn to make the move from Ohio to Delaware to create a new home for himself under the same roof as his beautiful queen and soulmate. He was nervous about what the big change might bring but completely confident in his decision. In anticipation of the big move and as a special gift to Jamie, he planned a surprise get-away, week-long vacation to Exuma, Bahamas Grand Isle Villas. It was a luxury resort that had every amenity one could ever want or hope for: a free form pool with a swim-up bar, a private chef for in-villa dining and most importantly, a crescent-shaped white sand beach that was created by God for the sole purpose of rest and relaxation and soaking up the sun. It was his way of saying, “Jamie . . . I’m so in love with you. Thank you for completing me,” and to set a peaceful, relaxing stage before movers, boxes, and disorganization reigned supreme. They had seven whole days with none of the pressures and stresses of work, obligations, or commitments. In their Caribbean hide-a-way, they could let their hair down and be uninhibited. From the moment their plane landed, they soaked up every decadent and hedonistic experience they could. There wasn’t a massage, spa treatment, or alcoholic beverage they didn’t sample. Shawn went horseback riding, parasailing, snorkeling and deep sea fishing while Jamie didn’t leave the lounge chair and her novel. One day, opting to do a little bit of nude sunbathing, Jamie was more than happy to give Shawn a special show when applying suntan oil. She did a sexy little lap dance for him, pouring oil all over her body and rubbing it in to her smooth, bronze skin. Bending over in front of him, she spread the cheeks of her ass and gave him a breathtaking view that wasn’t on any of the brochures the travel agent had shown him. She slid his swimming trunks off and Jamie slid down on his dick. She rode him hard, bouncing up and down, using his dick to get herself off. They were in full view of several passengers on a sailboat that was anchored slightly off-shore. There was no shame or embarrassment to be felt, they were a couple taking advantage of paradise and living with no regrets. By day four, Jamie was ready to venture out to do some shopping. They combed the tiny streets of Exuma, in search of the perfect gifts to take home to friends and family. The Peace and Plenty Gift Shop had such an inviting name, it was virtually impossible not to go in. It was indicative of the bountiful things that Shawn and Jamie shared, a metaphor for their love. “Welcome, is there something in particular that you are looking for today?” The voice came from the shop owner as she came out from behind the counter to greet the pair face to face. She was breathtaking—and quite willing to share lots of intimate details about her life in a very short period of time. Raised in Brazil, her name was Kia and it seems her mother was half French and Spanish and her father was half Kenyan and Indian. She ended up on the island after having gone on vacation with an ex-boyfriend and falling in love with the place and making the decision never to leave. She purchased the shop for a steal after Hurricane Andrew and never looked back. Jamie began moving around the shop in complete ease and comfort. Shawn was content to just watch the two chat and browse. It was more than apparent that the ladies were getting along like long lost friends who’d been reunited. Kia proclaimed, “Here, you absolutely must try on this bikini, it will look fabulous on you.” She pulled Jamie behind a small partition that was cordoned off to create a make shift fitting room. Hidden behind the silk curtain, Kia undressed Jamie and dressed her like a mannequin, talking her time. They seemed to be in there for an inordinately long period of time and Shawn wondered what could be happening. As the curtain was pulled back and Jamie emerged, he saw the signs of her arousal. Her nipples were hardened and poking out from the thin material, her breathing was shallow, and her eyes were glazed over with a look of pure lust. Shawn could feel his dick stiffen with unspoken excitement. Kia emerged, equally as radiant and supercharged with sexuality. All Shawn could do was say, “WOW, you look fantastic. We’ll take it.” Back at the villa, Shawn was anxious for details of what had happened in the fitting room but he knew Jamie well enough to be patient and that she would share at the perfect time. He didn’t have to wait long because shortly after they’d unpacked and repacked all their souvenirs, there was a knock at the door. “In your haste, you forgot your old clothes. Lucky for me, you mentioned where you were staying so I could return them to you.” “Oh, thank you so much, do come in,” Jamie said as she closed the door. Did it really matter that the premise of returning the clothes was a thinly-veiled rouse coordinated by Jamie? As soon as she was safely inside, Kia turned and the ladies began kissing, making out really, while Shawn stood staring in disbelief. Jamie broke the kiss long enough to come over to him and whisper in his ear, “This is my way of saying, ‘Thank you for completing me, sit back, relax, and enjoy. I love you.’” Shawn almost couldn’t believe his eyes. It was like a dream. The incredibly sexy woman he loved more than anyone or anything was about to make love to another incredibly sexy woman for his enjoyment. He sat back in a comfortable chair, pulled out his dick, and watched the seduction begin. Jamie was amazing, expressive, uninhibited in her actions. Her movements were fluid as she gave into passion like she’d never known before. Their sun-kissed, brown limbs were a blur of sensual tangles. Not once did Jamie hesitate or have second thoughts as she devoured every inch of Kia’s body with her mouth. Their kisses were soft and tender and Shawn was amazed at the passion the two women shared. In all of the times they had shared the fantasy in the privacy of their bedroom, Shawn never expected Jamie to be so creative when making love to another woman. He took notes as she spread Jamie’s pussy lips and licked and sucked her hard clit. Ramming her tongue deep inside Kia’s hole, Jamie used her tongue to fuck her like a dick. In a million years, he never would have thought that Jamie would be so bold as to get into anal play with a total stranger but she didn’t have a problem probing Kia’s tender backdoor with her finger and making her go into orgasmic overdrive. Even her dialogue was that of a seasoned expert. “Mmm, I love your sweet, juicy pussy, I love the way it tastes. Cum in my mouth you sexy thing. I’m going to lick my man’s hot cum from your pussy after he fucks you senseless.” Kia, no stranger to being with another woman, was equally as talented and brought Jamie to several orgasms with her mouth and fingers. She took special pleasure in sucking on Jamie’s gorgeous breasts. Intertwining their legs, they rubbed their clits against one another, mixing their juices and aromas like a special blend of intoxicating perfume. Shawn was stroking himself, crazy with lust. Just when he thought things couldn’t get any better, couldn’t get any hotter, he felt the tender caress of soft lips against his own. Almost at the same time, a set of lips began sucking his erection. Jamie was sharing her man out of love, out of connection and there was no jealousy or competition to be found between the three of them. Both ladies knelt between his legs and began licking his dick at the same time. One licked, one sucked, they kissed it together. It seemed that whenever Jamie was swallowing him deep, Kia was licking his nuts. They were fingering each other and Shawn had four breasts to caress and fondle. They all moved to the bed and made themselves more comfortable. Shawn was almost too nervous to know what to do. He looked at Jamie for direction and approval. She was the most important person in his life and he needed to know that she was still okay with everything, he needed to let her know that if she wanted to pull the plug on anything that it was okay with him. Jamie kissed him softly, letting him taste Kia’s pussy for the first time. He sucked her lower lip into his mouth, getting harder from knowing that the women he wanted to share his life with was “Dining at the Y” only minutes earlier. Kia felt a little out of the loop. The chemistry between the couple was intense. Jaime loved the power she had in that moment. She took Kia’s hand and guided her over Shawn. She held his dick in her hand. Shawn felt the warmth of her soft fingers surround his shaft and the heat of Kia’s pussy on the head of his johnson. Jamie jerked him off and masturbated Kia at the same time. She used the tip of Shawn’s dick and slid it between the fat, wet lips of Kia’s cunt, rubbing her hard clit. Kia was chanting and moaning. Jamie gently twisted her nipples which sent her body down, enveloping every inch of Shawn’s dick deep inside her. Shawn gasped. Kia’s pussy was different, he fit her differently, he felt his balls tighten to his body. Before he could gather his thoughts, Jamie settled in on his face, lowering her own salty sweet pussy to his mouth. The two women were kissing and sucking each other’s hard nipples, fucking themselves on Shawn. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe. All he could do was lay there as two sexy women got off on him. At one point, they switched positions and he tasted Kia’s pussy from the source. Jamie decided to step things up a notch and lowered her asshole onto Shawn’s dick. She rode him like a bucking bronco. Kia reached around and spread Jamie’s cheeks, played with Shawn’s dick. She whispered in Jamie’s ear, “I thought you were going to lick his cum out of my pussy. I don’t think he can last another minute with you fucking him like that. Shawn drove his tongue deep in Kia, the way Jamie had done earlier. Jamie started screaming and yelling, turned on more than she’d ever been in her life. Shawn came first, Jamie wasn’t too far behind. Kia was the last to cross the finish line, flooding Shawn’s mouth with her cream. The remainder of the three days were spent making, erotic, exotic love; Shawn, Jamie and Kia. It was a stepping stone for the couple, a portal through which they traveled in order to become closer. There were no regrets to be had. Back in the States, they would consummate their combined lives with renewed vigor and the knowledge that they could look forward to the next major milestone in their relationship with eager anticipation. Copyright 2006 AfroerotiK Like this story? Why not order a personalized and customized story JUST FOR YOU? Indulge in the ultimate arousal with a story that is created for you, about you, about your most intimate fantasies. It’s the best gift you can give the special person in your life.

Making Passion a Priority
All too often, we let the stresses and strains of day to day living consume us. Work becomes number one in our lives; we let our responsibilities become our identity. It’s almost as if we’ve forgotten the things that are most important to us; we forget to give importance to the things that will sustain us most. When it’s all said and done, and we are on our dying bed, will we really say that we are most proud of how organized our day calendar was or will we regret not stopping to smell the roses? Will we mourn the relationships that we could have nourished along the way? Fred and Alicia were on a path of self-destruction. Were they dinking and drugging and living a life of sinful debauchery? No, far from it. Were they lying and cheating on one another? Hardly. They were focusing their attention on everyone and everything OTHER than themselves. You name a social commitment, and they had several hours a week carved out to volunteer for it. Everything had its allotted timeslot during the week, even romance. Penciled in, right after caring for Alicia’s convalescent mother, driving the van for the senior citizens at church or planning for the Home Owner’s Assoc. Annual Cookout . . . and work of course, was alone time. There were bills to be paid and 50 hours a week was nothing for this “successful” couple to put in for the job. Sex always found itself at the bottom of a very long list of things to do. It wasn’t as if Fred and Alicia were in a loveless marriage either. No, that was far from the case. They had a deep-abiding love, one that had grown since those first days on the campus of Morgan State University, when Fred was a jock on the swim team and Alicia was studying accounting. Over the years, their romance blossomed and grew and they cemented an honest, loving bond that seemingly could not be broken. They found a true love that most people long for, that most people would give their right arm to experience. In all their travels, however, no one had ever told either of them how important it was to fan the flames of passion in a marriage FIRST in order to be better prepared to face life’s challenges. They were going about it all wrong. They were putting everything else under the sun above themselves. They were making time for generating heat in their lives the very last thing that they gave time and energy to developing. Sex for the couple, while still mind-blowing when they had it, was almost an afterthought-- or at least something to be fit into the weekend amidst all the other chores. What Fred and Alicia needed was a jolt to their sex lives. They needed a reminder that communication and intimacy, that passion and pleasure should come first and foremost in their lives. The Creator has a way of teaching us lessons, even when we least expect it. Every relationship pays the price for unspoken truths and denied pleasure. In their roles of conservative duty, Fred and Alicia had learned to suppress their true desires and were content to let their fantasies and desires be implied. It was fate that served as the spark that reignited the smoldering embers that held the key to a long-lasting, sensual and loving relationship. Alicia was spending Saturday morning at home alone. Fred was out with a car wash to benefit juvenile diabetes research and she decided to forego laundry for some “me” time. What was different about that particular morning was how incredibly horny she was. It was all she could do to concentrate on anything other than her throbbing pussy and the visions of untamed sex that filled her thoughts. Taking advantage of the solitude, Alicia decided to indulge in a little decadent indulgence. She went through their collection of porn looking for something that would really get her juices flowing, and she ripped open the packaging on her brand new dildo, one she’d kept secret from her hubby. She decided on a lesbian flick because it always got her incredibly hot thinking about being with another woman. She would often fantasize that she would be seduced by one of the women that on the minority outreach committee for the local community college. Fred knew of her desires and it was arousing to him but they never discussed it. As open-minded and as liberal as they both were about their sexuality, there seemed to be a disconnect in communicating it to each other because they had adopted these roles of conservatism and didn’t know how to take them off anymore. Alicia was laying back, her eyes shut tightly, and she was fucking herself slowly, intentionally, the way Fred would do it. The television filled the room with sounds of pure, hedonistic fucking. She was moaning softly, lost in fantasy of things she wouldn’t tell the one man she loved more than anyone else in the world. Her mind was racing, filled with thoughts and visions of untamed sex. Her body was filled with lust, well, lust and six inches of hard dildo. She was muttering, moaning, babbling incoherently about things she would never say to her husband in real life. “ Oh baby, I love the feel of your breasts in my mouth. Mmmm, let me taste that sweet pussy of yours. Oh fuck, you know only another woman could make me feel that way., YESSS, of yeah, strapon that dildo and FUCK me hard.” What she didn’t know was that she was revealing all her secrets to Fred. Storm clouds put the kabash on the car wash and Fred had nothing else planned for the morning. He was thrown off when he arrived home because he didn’t see Alicia’s car parked in the driveway. He had totally forgotten that his brother-in-law had borrowed the car for a road trip and that his lovely wife would be at home. He entered, expecting to be able to have some alone time for erotic release to himself. He heard the sounds coming from the bedroom and he moved toward them, almost afraid of what he might discover. His fears were for naught because as he peeked in the room, he saw a vision that made him instantly erect. Alicia was in the middle of ecstasy and uninhibited in her declarations. She was like a wild woman, right before his eyes, and he was instantly reminded of the reason why he craved her body so much. Her breasts were glowing with perspiration, heaving up and down as she fucked herself. He looked intensely at the TV screen, seeing the images that gave him a special thrill. He knew Alicia was stimulated by “alternative” desires but he was insecure that they meant that he wasn’t man enough to satisfy her. As if in a trance, he unzipped his fly and pulled out his hard dick. He was stroking it and watching Alicia masturbate. In that moment, in that erotic instant, Alicia and Fred were connected in a way that almost seemed to defy the odds. Alicia was lost in her self-love and hadn’t heard Fred come in. What she felt was his hands spreading her thighs. She sat up, startled by the intrusion momentarily, and immediately gave way to the moment, the erotic potential. Fred knelt between her legs, staring at her new toy as it plunged in and out of her tight, wet pussy. He replaced her hand with his own and started fucking her. Alicia practically screamed out as Fred alternated licking her hard clit and ramming her full of dildo. She grabbed her breasts and started playing with her nipples, watching the images on the TV screen, looking down at her husband, feeling her body overcome with pleasurable sensations. She was in the zone, she was turned on more than she’d been in a very long time. There was something in the air that was different and she was going to take advantage of every second of it. Grabbing hold of the dildo, Alicia pulled it out, covered with her sexy juices and began licking it seductively. She would have ordinarily never done anything like that because she was afraid that she would offend him or that she would seem too vulgar. Somehow, she felt like she was released from a prison of unspoken truths, free to share with her true soul mate the things in her heart. There was no one she trusted more, there was no one else who filled her with desire; she wanted to be able to let go and divulge all her secrets. Fred was aroused, not offended. He watched his wife intently, tasting her cream. She sensually licked all her sweet honey from the toy and made sure she knew that she was enjoying it. Alicia was out of control, her pussy was flowing. She grabbed the back of her husband’s head and pushed him down between her legs. She was lost in fantasy of having a women go down on her but it was her man who was doing the job and doing it quite well. Fred, content to be a surrogate in his wife’s fantasies, swallowed every drop of her cum without missing a beat and licked his lips when he came up for air. Alicia was beside herself. She was positive she’d never experienced anything sexier in her entire life. There was something about the intimacy of it all, the fact that only her husband could be with her in that moment, in that way. Fred started stroking his own dick harder, sucking harder, turned on by Alicia’s unapologetic openness. Whatever was making her so hot, he wanted more. He took off the rest of his clothes and got on the bed with his wife. He kissed her deeply, allowing her to taste her own pussy on his lips. Alicia was outdone by his kisses, igniting her flames that much more in a way that rivaled the first kiss they had shared so many years ago that still made her toes curl. Fred began his usual seduction, enveloping her body with tender kisses in a slow, methodical manner. Alicia wanted to change the tempo, add some spice into things so she took charge of things and controlled the action. She wanted him to feel the heavenly sensations that he’d given her so many times. She began using her mouth on him in the most decadent ways: licking his nipples to drive him insane and saying things she only previously would have thought but never spoken aloud. “You know I want to fuck you, right? No, I want you to fuck me, I need you to fuck me senseless until I pass out. I want to feel you pound your hard dick in me and ram it hard, use my pussy, FUCK me.” The more she revealed, the hotter she got. She’d been afraid to admit to him that she wanted to him to take her in that way, that she wanted things a little more . . . intense, because, again, she didn’t want to offend him. Neither of them were skilled in how to communicate their sexual desires so they had just fallen into a rut of satisfying but predictable sex. This was far from predictable. Both Fred and Alicia were more expressive, more free with their wants and needs than they had ever been in their lives. It was as if they were experiencing a sexual rebirth. She knelt between his thighs and began blowing his mind. Her mouth was like hot velvet, consuming every inch of his dick in sensual delight. The intensity of their unbridled lust and her dripping wet blowjob had Fred out of his mind. Inspired by his wife’s insatiable appetite, Fred was leaking precum and horny for more. Unable to take any more without exploding, Fred grabbed Alicia and flipped her over on her back. He threw her legs in the air and took careful aim. “Tell me you want this,” he said. All Alicia could do was speak her truth. “Fuck me,” she said, her eyes glazed over, panting like an animal. Fred took the head of his dick and slid it into the wet, warm, moist folds of Alicia’s pussy. He started working her slowly, hitting the right spots, making her beg for more. “FRED, fuck me. Fuck me like you need it. Fuck me like you want it. Fuck me like your life depends on it.” The invitation had been made and Fred responded with enthusiasm. He began pounding her like he was a man driven by lust. It was clear he was treating her like a fuck doll and Alicia was loving every minute of it. In fact, she couldn’t get enough. The harder he pounded, the more she screamed for more. Her cries were primal, carnal even. The more pleasure he gave his wife, the more inspired he was to give her more. He flipped her over on her stomach and pulled her to her knees. He was more rough with her than he usually would be but the wet, frothy juices on his dick told him that his wife was loving every second of the treatment. She put her hands on the headboard and looked back with lust in her eyes. “FUCK ME NOW!” Fred took careful aim and lined up the head of his dick with her tight hole. The heat was intense and he shoved himself in in one full stroke. Alicia braced herself for the ride of a lifetime. Fred could go for a long time and she was going to take full advantage of the situation. She was like a bucking bronco and Fred was breaking her in. He gripped her hips tightly and punctuated his thrusts by smacking her ass hard. Alicia loved every second of the rough treatment. The more she came, the harder he fucked her. The pounding became more intense, he was smacking her ass and driving her crazy, giving her a string of multiple orgasms. Alicia was exhausted, drained of energy. Fred wasn’t finished yet, however. When she collapsed on the bed, a mass of quivering and sensitive flesh, he flipped her over on her back and put her legs on his shoulders. The fact that he was being so aggressive, so sexual gave her new life and aroused her that much more. Fred’ dick was hitting her spot and making her cum even more. The sheets were on the floor and they were fucking on the bare mattress. Looking up into his face, Alicia could see the look of pure lust on her husband’s face and she felt more love for him in that moment than she’d felt in a long time. He rammed, fucked, and pounded her without mercy. When he was ready to cum, he pulled out and started jerking off over Alicia’s stomach. She loved watching him cum but on this day, it was like torture . . . sweet, erotic torture. He spilled his seed on her slippery flesh and they collapsed on together, exhausted from such a strenuous experience. Things began to fall in place after that. Alicia and Fred took more time to be together, to make sure that passion had a place front and center in their lives. All in all, they learned that in order to accomplish all the other things that they had to do in their lives, the most important thing was to take the time to be open and available for honest, intimate communication and make passion a priority. Copyright 2006 AfroerotiK Like this story? Why not order a personalized and customized story JUST FOR YOU? Indulge in the ultimate arousal with a story that is created for you, about you, about your most intimate fantasies. It’s the best gift you can give the special person in your life.

Power Tools

Brandon Johnson hesitated as he made out the final check to the receptionist at the Center for Conscious and Creative Living. He was graduating from six long months of counseling, healing, and transformation. He was literally a new man; incapable of seeing life the way he had previously. He’d undergone the most radical, holistic, and spiritual rebirth anyone could imagine. His close friends couldn’t relate to him any more and they drifted away like insignificant acquaintances, making way for a new set of friends who vibrated on a higher plane. It was a plane he hadn’t even known existed six months ago, one he couldn’t grasp or conceive of until he met Dr. Adisa Ajani.

Change was still a little scary for him but he knew that he was better prepared to face the unknown than he had ever been before in his life. When he shut the door to the offices, he knew he was shutting the door on using sex to numb the pain of his insecurities, of projecting his lust onto women and expecting them to conform to his distorted view. It was only after 6 very intense months of radical therapy that Brandon took responsibility for his emotions, owned them, and didn’t try to hide from them in a blur of irrational and immature behavior that made excuses for his dysfunction. He couldn’t look at women the same way because he was a new man. With the help of Dr. Ajani, he was now fully equipped to steer the own ship of his continued healing and that was an invaluable and powerful tool. No longer was he desperate to have someone else fix him, he was now clearly able to see a vision of himself as whole, healthy and enlightened and could navigate a way clearly and continually towards his higher self on his own.

As Brandon drove home, he was relinquishing his fears and embracing his future. His old self would have saw his graduation as an excuse to celebrate by getting drunk and waking up the next day with fuzzy memories and regrets. The new Brandon wanted to celebrate now by getting more organized in his life. He stopped off at Home Depot to see if he could get some things to help him organize his closet.

He was looking at the pre-made organizers when he started feeling particularly inspired and decided to venture to the lumber aisle to see if he couldn’t create something similar by hand. He was sort of overwhelmed by all the choices but he certainly wasn’t alone. There was a woman there, looking dazed and lost, with a how to book in her hand sheer terror on her face.

Brandon approached her in order to lend his assistance. After brief conversation he ascertained that her ex husband had promised her son a tree house but it was more than apparent that that he wasn’t going to follow through on his promise YET AGAIN. She had just enough money in her budget and more than enough hardheaded determination to build it herself but absolutely no clue how to pull it off. She looked like a deer caught in headlights. Actually, she looked like a fresh-faced tomboy. She was wearing running shoes and running pants, a plain white t-shirt, a denim jacket, and a baseball cap with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. From what he could tell, she wasn’t wearing any make-up on her face, just a look of confusion.

With no hidden agendas or mackadocious motives, Brandon spoke up, “I’m not sure I can help but I am more than willing to offer what little assistance I can. This does seem a little overwhelming.”

She smiled and extended her hand in greeting. “Who would have thought wood would be so complicated? I mean, I watch Extreme Home Makeover every week. This should be a piece of cake, right?” They laughed together. “Forgive my manners, I’m Samantha.”

They continued to exchange pleasantries and went about the daunting task of collecting all the materials necessary to build the tree house. There was definitely something about Samantha. She didn’t seem overly preoccupied with using her sexuality to get men to do things for her. Her independence wasn’t threatening but Brandon realized that was indicative of his own growth and a man and as a human being. Previously, he would have dismissed any woman who seemed so decidedly strong willed as unattractive, no matter how physically attractive she was, he would have seen it as a threat to his manhood. Now, confident in his identity, Brandon saw Samantha as a competent, strong, single parent doing a helluva job raising her son with an unreliable ex-husband.

They got everything she needed and had it all packed up to be delivered. Brandon handed her a business card and said, “If you need any help, please don’t hesitate to give me a call. I’d be more than happy to offer whatever assistance I can, NO STRINGS ATTACHED.” For the very first time in his life, he meant it.

“Thank you very much but I think I’ll be fine from here on out.” Brandon walked to his car, proud of himself for not making a crude, sexual advance and amazed that it felt natural. He gave himself a passing grade on his life test and went on about his life feeling empowered. It wasn’t until he got a frantic call three days later from Samantha that he thought of her again. She was in a panic. Brandon gladly volunteered to lend a hand and he was on his way to her house, just off Jimmy Carter Boulevard, 30 minutes later.

Samantha greeted him with a big hug like he was a long lost friend. It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon, the sun was shining brightly. They made a good team, reading instructions, coordinating, and building. As the sun started to set, Brandon excused himself for the evening and made his way home, extending the offer to be there bright and early in the morning to continue his help.

True to his word, he came bearing gifts. He’d stopped off at the Farmer’s Market to get fresh juice and berries. He brought a Sunday AJC and fresh croissant still warm from the Publix oven. Sufficiently nourished, they began what would easily be final leg of their construction journey. They laughed and shared stories of recovery and healing as they sawed and nailed with rented power tools. While working, Brandon was struck with the realization that he was actually attracting a different caliber of woman because he himself was different. For almost all of his adult life, he’d blamed the women in his life for his failed relationships. Not once had he ever considered that he was responsible for attracting dysfunctional relationships because he was the broken magnetic force.

With two full days of cooperative effort, the tree house was essentially complete. With the exception of staining the wood, it was the private clubhouse of any 5^th graders dreams.

“I’d really like to thank you for all your help. Would you like to come over for dinner next weekend? It won’t be much but it will at least be my way of saying thank you for all your time and energy. In fact, I won’t take no for an answer. Friday night at 8:00.” Samantha hesitated; realizing she might be a little bit too forward because they hadn’t established that there was a reciprocal romantic chemistry.

Brandon noticed her apprehension, lifted her baseball cap and kissed her gently on the forehead, and said, “I’ll be here Friday at 8, wouldn’t miss it for the world.” All week long, Brandon thought of little else. He did his best not to project but it was difficult. He made a conscious choice to focus on his journaling, visualization, and cleansing meditation, his tools for transformation.

Friday night arrived and Brandon could barely contain his excitement. He actually missed Sam, missed her company, missed the way they joked together, he missed her spirit. He put on a pair of dress slacks and a silk shirt and with flowers in his hand he headed off to his dinner date.

The woman who opened the door was NOT the same woman who Brandon had become accustomed to. Standing before him was a breathtaking beauty; it was an image Brandon hadn’t even imagined before. He hair was down and framed her pretty face and she’d traded in her running pants and denim jacket for a sexy, black dress. She led him through the house and out into the back yard. She climbed the ladder first and for the first time, he noticed her soft, womanly curves. She’d lit the tree house with candles and had gone all out, well Piccadilly had gone all out, to lay out a full spread.

“Please, sit down,” as she pointed to a palette of blankets, she’d spread out on the floor. She thanked him for all his help and relayed how overjoyed her son was with his new tree house. Feeling a bit overwhelmed and out of his element, Brandon sat, at a loss for words. He wanted to say something but he was definitely in unchartered territory. Samantha went about fixing him a plate of food and chatting away as if she was unaware that the conversation was one-sided. She was painfully aware, however, that Brandon was uncomfortable, and she did her best to make him feel at ease.

“I’m sorry, I think I should go,” Brandon said, as he started to stand to leave. He was stuck in his head and it was telling him that he was out of his element. He was feeling unworthy of the potential relationship that was developing right before his eyes. All his life, he’d used women to cater to his ego, he’d never had the potential for such a wonderful companion in his life. It was all a little too overwhelming for him and his fight or flight instinct took over and flight was winning.

Samantha stood and tried to busy herself blowing out candles, saying goodbye and anxious to have him leave before she broke down in tears. She was confused as to what went wrong so quickly and she was doing her best to play it off. Brandon paused and stood still. If there was anything he had learned in therapy, it was that he needed to be accountable for his actions and to how they affect other people. He steadied himself and he stood still.

The words came slowly at first, unsure of how to fix the mess he’d made. He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay, he wanted to lay her on the floor right then and there and make love to her but he wouldn’t let his old behaviors get in the way. Before he knew it, he was spilling his guts about how overwhelmed he was with emotion and how unprepared and inadequate he felt in dealing with these sorts of emotions. Before he knew what was happening, Samantha was in his arms, her arms were around his neck holding him tightly, whispering in his ear that everything would be okay.

Brandon held Samantha tightly. Her body fit in his arms and his lips found the nape of her neck. He kissed her softly as he shut his eyes. It was like a dream state. His heart was pounding and his breathing was shallow. He wanted to run. He was sure if he gave into his desires, he’d ruin what could be the best thing that ever happened to him.

It was Samantha that took things into her own hands. She was confident that there was a connection that couldn’t be denied. It was a relationship that had potential; there was an undeniable heat that was smoldering between them. He held his face in her hands and kissed his mouth softly. Brandon had butterflies in his stomach and his knees were weak. It was like his first kiss ever. He heard her soft whispers like music to his ears.

Samantha stepped back and lowered the straps on her dress. The candlelight shimmered on her body, making her brown skin glow. She lay down on the blankets and it was all Brandon could do to keep from hyperventilating. “Stay with me,” she said, as she spread her legs and invited him to lay with her.

Brandon swallowed hard. He undid the buttons on his shirt, each one feeling like it was an impossible task to accomplish. He undid his belt and let his pants fall to the floor. Leaving his boxer briefs on, he lay on top of Samantha. Her soft skin was like heaven. She wrapped her legs around him Brandon felt like he was in a cocoon of sweet femininity. His dick was as hard as a rock and she was grinding her body against him, making him dizzy with sensations. It was the first time in his life that he was really going to make love to a woman. He’d only known her for a little less than two weeks yet there was something in him that told him that this was the real thing. This was the woman he could easily spend his life with. For so long, he’d been looking for the perfect woman to make him a better man. When he became a better man, the perfect woman came into his life without any effort.

It was important to Brandon to take things slowly, to give Samantha pleasure. He wanted to learn her body, to let go of everything he’d learned in the past to experience making love with her for the first time, as if it was his first time. He could feel the heat from her body scorching him; he wanted to be inside her in a way he’d never felt before. It was an overwhelming desire to connect to her.

Their kisses grew more passionate and the temperature was rising. The sounds of the summer crickets serenaded them as he began kissing his way down her body. He undid the clasps on her bra and began sucking her hardened nipples. Samantha moaned, grabbing his head in her soft hands and caressing his head. He kissed his way down her body, licking her tummy and down his way to her panties. She slid her panties down her legs and Brandon stared at her pussy. Her lips opened sensually and seemed to be calling to him. He lowered his mouth to her and began gently lapping at her flowing juices. His tongue softly licked her sweetness from front to back, tasting her honey and savoring her flavor. His tongue circled her clit, causing Samantha to moan louder and wrap her legs tightly around his head. Brandon flicked her clit softly, making Sam tremble and squirm.

“Brandon, make love to me, please.” She was pleading with him, desperate to have him inside her. Brandon paused, nervous again. He pulled his briefs down to mid thigh his heart skipped a beat as Samantha pulled her legs back. He took the head of his dick and placed it at her hole. The heat traveled up his body and Samantha pulled him to her. Her silky walls grabbed him and pulled him deeper. Their cries echoed out into the calm night sky. He was stroking her hard and she was meeting each thrust with passion. It was too intense. Brandon couldn’t control himself. He needed to be deep inside her, to fill her completely. Perspiration glowed on their bodies and their grunts became animal-like. He braced himself and started working her pussy, hitting every spot, every angle. He was a machine, giving her pleasure like he’d never done before, experiencing pleasure in ways he’d never known were possible.

Samantha was cumming all over him. Her body was trembling and her juices were flowing freely. She was begging for more, pleading with him not to stop, so Brandon concentrated and kept up his technique. He placed her legs on his shoulders and gripped her hips tightly. Her soft flesh filled his hands. The head of his dick was hitting bottom and he couldn’t stop his own orgasm from overtaking him. The cum in his nuts boiled up and exploded inside his lady love as she held him tightly to her body.

The pulled the blanket over them as they lay cuddling in the summer breezes. They were in their haven of romance and intimacy, one that they had created with their own hands. They’d built a solid structure on a concrete foundation, both literally and figuratively and both the tree house and the relationship were formed with power tools.

Copyright 2006 AfroerotiK

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Key Elements for a Healthy Relationship by Scottie Lowe

It’s become more and more apparent to me, over the course of the last couple of weeks that most people are absolutely clueless when it comes to what constitutes and establishes a healthy relationship. What’s worse, we aren’t even interested in changing our behaviors in an effort to move to a different place, we want to hold on to obviously dysfunctional and destructive patterns, justify them, and then blame other people for hurting us. The choices we make in our relationships are blatantly unhealthy and then we cry and boo-hoo that the other person has wronged us. I know that everyone isn’t on the same path of healing but it seems almost incomprehensible that it’s 2005 and people are not even willing to make efforts to examine their lives in a conscious effort to build a stronger relationship.

NOW, I’ll be the first to say that I’m not an expert on relationships. I haven’t been in a relationship for almost 15 years. In those 15 years however, I’ve spent a lot of time trying to analyze why I’ve chosen the relationships I’ve been in, what I did wrong, what belief systems I need to change, and trying to conceptualize exactly how I want any future relationships I enter into. I’ve tried to determine exactly what I want my partner to be like, how I want to interact with my partner, what I bring to the table, and what things I will and will not compromise on in a partnership. I’ve come up with some things that I think are essential for building a healthy relationship and I’m going to share my thoughts on the subject with the hopes that some other people will come up with criteria that will work for them in building a strong relationship.

First and foremost, in order to build a healthy and strong relationship, you must, you MUST look at why you are the way you are. You have to figure out why you like the men that don’t like you, why you choose the women that need to be rescued and then you resent them when they ask you for security. You have to look at the reasons behind why you fall in love in a week and then three months later you hate that person like they are a serial killer. Why do you continue to love people that don’t love you? Why do you feel like your life is over when you get rejected? All of the reasons why we behave the way we do are set up in our childhood. We duplicate the things we experienced in our childhood so we must figure out what caused us to be the way we are. Your dad wasn’t around, your mother played the martyr “Strong Black woman” icon, you saw her have a string of no good men come in and out of your life, you wanted your daddy to love you, you wanted to be like your daddy, cool and aloof and unattached . . . whatever the belief system, you have to figure that out first and foremost so you can identify the pattern in your relationships and work to correct it. When you see that red flag pop up, you can understand where it comes from and then work towards moving to a healthier place. The problem with looking at our past is that it’s painful. We don’t want to have to face the fact that we think we are unworthy of love because we feel fat, ugly, insecure, or flawed. We don’t want to admit to ourselves that we have fears of abandonment from when we had to go live with our auntie when we were little. It is that acknowledgement and that ability to examine YOUR OWN LIFE that will make you a better person in a relationship and without that, you are doomed to continue to perpetuate those same horrible relationships over and over again.

You must have a set of emotional criteria that you feel is essential for what constitutes a loving relationship for you. You must define your emotional boundaries and establish what you need emotionally in a relationship and you have to demand that from your partner. What does that mean? Everyone has different things that would make them feel loved and valued, you have to have that clearly defined in your head and then seek a partner that is willing to help you paint that picture. If you meet someone and they can’t subscribe to your vision of love, if its too much of a burden for them to do the things you need to feed you emotionally, that’s not the person for you. For some people, you need a partner that will call you every day and check in with you just to make sure you are doing okay. For others, it means you need physical affection, constant hugs and kisses, and intimacy. Others still might need a relationship in which there is no fighting. You have to know what you want your relationship to look like in order for you to be able to achieve it. The trick is to identify the emotional things that build strong relationships and not the material things that damage them.

Suppose, as a woman, you think love is having a man buy you all sorts of thing and pay all your bills. You seek that out in a partner and then he beats you, controls your every move, you feel trapped. What you’ve done is identify a selfish material need, not an emotional need. The emotional need would be to feel security. Security comes in many forms and can be expressed in lots of ways. If your man helps you organize your bills so you can pay them on time yourself, helps you get your resume together so you can get a better job with more income, quizzes you with interview questions, if he helps you plan a budget so that you can save to buy a house and you won’t have to be uprooted once a year, that’s meeting your emotional needs, not your physical ones. If, as a man, you want a relationship where you have a woman that looks like she stepped off the cover of a magazine or a video set every day in order to show other men that you are better than them, in order to prove that you have what it takes to get the best looking woman, what you are looking for emotionally is confidence and self esteem. That can’t come from a woman; true confidence and self-esteem must come from inside. That woman that has her hair done all the time, her nails and toes painted to match, that wears the designer outfit in her two-seater, convertible sports car will not honor you as a man, she will use you for your money and move on when the next man with more money offers to buy her. The woman that will help you go back to school and get your degree, and who will get up at 5 am on a Saturday morning to help you train for that marathon is the woman that will support your accomplishments and be a loving partner. As long as you go for the packaging and not what’s inside, you’ll be doomed to be miserable in your relationships.

3.      A healthy relationship must be built on integrity and selflessness. Integrity means steadfast adherence to a strict moral or ethical code and selflessness means exhibiting, or motivated by NO concern for oneself; unselfish. Those are foreign words to most people these days because we’ve been socialized to look out for self. The idea of putting another person’s feelings above our own is impossible for some people to grasp. You can’t be in a healthy relationship if you lie, cheat, or make choices that benefit you and not your partner. Every choice, every decision, every move you make has to benefit your partner or your relationship. Now, here’s the rub. Your partner has to have the same commitment to the relationship in order for it to work. You can’t say, “I love XYZ, but I have to go out on Friday night to party because that’s what I love to do and if they don’t like it, too bad.” Well, that’s not entirely true. You can say that but you will be in a very unhealthy relationship if you do. To be in a healthy relationship, you have to put your needs last and have a partner that is willing to put their needs last as well. If both of you are working on building a relationship where you honor and love the other person, where you put the other person’s needs ahead of your own, both of you will be in a relationship where neither on will jeopardize the relationship by doing something selfish. That means you can’t have instant gratification all the time. That means you won’t cheat when the opportunity comes up because you think you can get away with it because you will think about your spouse and know that your actions would hurt them. You won’t stay out all weekend without calling because you will know that they will be worried to death about you. You won’t buy the super expensive hot tub or the entertainment system you’ve always wanted without asking permission first because you know any selfish choice you make for yourself in the relationship will negatively effect how you get along. You will ask your partners opinion on things and come to a compromise that honors both of you.

4.      It almost goes without saying because it’s so essential and most people will say they want it in a relationship but hardly anyone at all practices it. Honesty is the foundation for a healthy relationship. Honesty means telling your partner all your dirty little secrets, fears, fantasies, dreams, and insecurities. Honest y is the ultimate measure of respect for your partner and it’s the cornerstone for two people relating in a way that will grow and build. You must start by being honest with yourself. That means you must be able to admit to yourself that you really do like the idea of having sex in a tub of chocolate pudding and that it’s not going to go away, no matter how much you want it to. You have to tell be able to tell your partner all of the things that make you tick or otherwise you are only presenting a shell of yourself to your partner and you are not allowing them to love all of you. If you have a sexual fantasy that you are afraid to share your spouse, that means you are ashamed of your fantasy. If you are ashamed of your fantasy, that means you are not being true to yourself. “But my wife will never understand that I want to get fucked in the ass with a strap on, she’ll think I’m gay.” “My boyfriend will never understand that I want to be gangbanged.” If you are with a partner who will not be willing to communicate and love you for who you are, you aren’t in a healthy relationship. There is no consensual sexual fantasy or fetish that should not be able to be discussed. You, as an adult, should be able to A.) point to the emotional need it fills in you and work to get that in other ways, and B.) keep in mind that if you choose to fulfill a fantasy without your partner, you’ve violated the rule of putting your partner’s emotional needs first.

Honesty goes far beyond just sharing your fantasies. You have to be able to tell your spouse that you peed your pants in the third grade when the teacher called you to the blackboard and you were nervous because you didn’t know the answer. You have to be able to tell your spouse that your cousin molested you when you were 10 and it’s fucked with your head ever since. You have to have a commitment to telling your partner that you’ve made a mistake and were unfaithful and let them choose how to process that information in a way that is healthy for them.   You have to not keep the information that the IRS is going to repossess your home for tax fraud you had before you got married. Any time you keep a secret from your spouse, any time you lie, and time you allow dishonesty to come between you and your partner, you are chipping away at the foundation of your healthy relationship.

“Well, I’m in a relationship and I know that he or she will leave me if I told them the truth about all the shit I’ve done.” That is a glaring indication that you are in an unhealthy relationship. There are too many things that will work to destroy your relationship outside your front door. Again, you have to have a commitment to telling the truth and you have to have a partner that is equally as committed to telling the truth. If you start letting dishonesty in your relationship, your partner will not have your back when the shit hits the fan. Having a healthy relationship is not easy, in fact, it’s very hard. Lies and healthy relationship just don’t mix.

5.      Good communication is essential in building a healthy relationship. You and your partner must have a way to disagree that doesn’t include yelling, screaming, and calling names. Most of us don’t know how to do that so go get a book on communication or go to counseling. You must be willing to let your partner be mad without getting defensive. You must be willing to let your partner have the space they need in order to process their emotions. You have to be willing to look things from their perspective and see things as they see them. You have to be willing to find a partner that is committed to having the same standard to communication as you or else you’ve just entered into another dysfunctional relationship.

6.      Similar belief systems are a key ingredient to building a strong, healthy relationship. I’ve heard many people say that they want a partner who shares the same social interests as them but they don’t care what their philosophical, or political, or spiritual beliefs are. That is a recipe for a shaky relationship at best. It would be great if you and your partner liked the same music and movies and you both liked to bowl. Those things are entertainment and it would be great to share those things with your partner. If, however, you are looking to build a healthy relationship with you partner, those things are icing on the cake and not the key ingredients to building a relationship. If you are a radical libertarian and you get involved with someone who thinks Bush is the best president since Reagan (which is saying a whole helluva lot) then you are going to be setting up arguments in your relationship about your core beliefs. If you like skating and your partner likes chess but you both are staunch Green Party, Pro-Choice, Anti-war, vegetarian, Hassidic Jews then you can go out skating, your partner can go out and play chess and when you come home you’ll be share your thoughts and feelings over a plate of curry lentils and plan out a strategy to hug a tree and rally for legislation to bring our soldiers home. Those are the things that will make the community better and building a strong community starts with building a strong family unit first. If you like 50cent and your partner like Cold Play, you can set times to listen to your music and his or her music that doesn’t piss both of you off. If you believe in your heart that a gay couple has a right to adopt and your partner does not, you are going to go to bed pissed off and mad many, many night.

7.      Compromise is a huge keyword for relationships. People seem to confuse compromising with your partner and compromising your standards. If you have done your homework and you are really interested in building a strong relationship, you’ve already decided what you need to emotionally fulfill you. With that list in hand, you need to compare every person you meet to that list and decided which things are must haves, which things are “nice to haves.” On your emotional list, you must be rigid in the selection of your partner because if you compromise on what you need, you’ll end up unhappy and miserable and you’ll end up sabotaging your relationship by trying to make your partner feel as unhappy as you are. Now, there’s another list of things that you want in your partner, the physical things. You want a partner that is a certain height, weight, complexion, hair length, etc. Other than hygiene, treat everything on that list with a grain of salt. “Oh, but I know what I like and I can’t change what turns me on.” That’s great. Mature adults in healthy relationships, however, can see far beyond the outside of the package. Make your priority the qualities of the heart you are looking for and not the 38DDDs or the 10-inch dick. Compromise inside of a relationship is essential. Once you’ve found the person that has looked at their own issues, that is committed to being honest, and putting your feelings ahead of theirs, that is interested in communicating without yelling and has the same passions as you, THEN and only then can you compromise on what movie to go to Friday, whose parents you are going to for the holidays, and what to name the children. In order to get the sort of person that is worthy of that sort of compromise, you must BE that sort of person first. All too often, we say, “Oh, I’ll change when I meet the person that is worth it.” Sadly, you have to change who you are first and then you’ll attract the sort of people that will be worth it.

If you aren’t in a relationship now and you want to be, how do you ensure that the next relationship will be healthier than your last? Go down the list and start by making a commitment that you are going to work on all of those things before you enter into a relationship again. Practice being honest, it’s not easy. Practice resolving conflicts in a different way. Decide what emotional needs you want met in your relationship and be willing to put them on the table as non-negotiable. When you find a person and they fit the outside criteria and not the emotional needs, make a commitment to pass and continue to invest your time and energy into relationships that is healthy. Sit down and write out all the things that shaped your personality. Take the time to really get to know a person BEFORE you commit to them. Take some time to get to know yourself. That means stay in the house for a few weekends, don’t talk on the phone every night trying to find someone to hook up with. Don’t be so desperate to be in a relationship that you throw yourself at the next person that shows interest in you. I’d say if you did any combination of those things, you’d be on your way to a more fulfilling, satisfying, enriching relationship than the ones you’ve been in the past.

Copyright 2005 Scottie Lowe

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Sweet Surrender

Continued From Sexuality and Erotica at Black Men In America.com.

Greg was your better than average looking, extremely intelligent, mad cool brotha. He was a ladies man for sure but that wasn’t his fault. He was 6’2”, 220 lbs. of sculpted ebony, baldheaded, and penetrating green eyes. His eyes were obviously some sort of genetic mix up from a recessive slave master gene, but it separated him from the rest. He worked out every day to keep his body together, six-pack, chiseled chest… his shit was tight. He stood out in a crowd, in a word, he was fine. A graduate of Yale Law, Greg was a successful attorney. He was a fraternity member, played ball with the boys on the weekend, upstanding, a really, genuine nice guy. In his lifetime, he had had more pussy than he knew what to do with. Name a fantasy, Greg had done it . . . twice. Threesomes, group sex, sex any and every place you can imagine, in fact, he had done every wild, nasty, kinky, sweaty, hot sex act humanly possible. Now, his own secret perversions were driving him to distraction. The more he tried to suppress them the more the images and sensations crept into his head.

She stalked him; his dreams, his thoughts, his fantasies. This vision, his goddess, his perfect woman crept into his thoughts when he least expected her to. She always there, possessing his perversions, lurking in the recesses of his mind. In fact, it seemed that the more stress he was under at work the more his thoughts drifted to his secret. Sometimes at night, Greg would stay awake as long as possible watching late night ESPN, avoiding the bed at all costs, afraid to go to sleep because he knew she would be there. She was there, behind his eyes as he drifted off into a peaceful slumber, only to torture him with pleasure untold. Even though she was completely a creation of his imagination, he knew everything about her; what she looked like, the way she moved, what she smelled like, her every desire and he also knew how to satisfy them all. He could feel the intensity of her stare and the caress of her touch. It was too bad she was just a fantasy, or maybe that was a good thing.

Greg needed to get out. He had a case he was litigating and it was a career maker or breaker. If he won this case, it would be what he needed to set the stage for the rest of his career. There were complications with the opposing council and it was starting to look like this was going to end up being a knock down, drag out fight. There were rumors that the litigants on the other side were bringing in some hot shot, heavy hitter attorney that had a reputation for taking no prisoners. It was some mystery lawyer that supposedly had never lost a case and dotted every ‘i’ and crossed every ‘t’ and left no stone unturned in order to get a favorable judgment. Greg needed to get out to release some of the tension because he was working 20 hours a day trying to prepare for this case that could make or break his career.

The list of invited guests at the record release party that Friday night read like a who’s who in the social registry of hip hop. Everybody who was anybody was there. The label had rented the club for the entire night and Dom P flowed freely. Greg was dressed head to toe in Emporio Armani and he showed up slightly after 11:00. He mixed and mingled with the best of them, one of the perks of dabbling in some entertainment law every now and again. Of course, events like this one drew the most beautiful women, wearing next to nothing, looking to get a record deal, be in a video, or end up hot and sweaty in the back of a Bentley with the rapper du jour. This night was no exception. Fly honeys were everywhere. He would never admit it openly, modesty prevailing, but Greg was always the best looking brotha wherever he went. The ladies this evening were in competition for his attention, and to Greg, they were toys to be played with.

There was one young lady that stood out. She was wearing a short skirt and didn’t really care who saw that she was without panties or thong. Somehow, she had made her way to the VIP section of the club and was flashing shaved pussy and fat ass for anyone who wanted to look to see. Her titties were so big, for a woman her size, they looked fake. The way they jiggled and bounced in her skimpy little top left no doubt in anyone’s mind they were real fo’ sho’. The fact that she was so breathtakingly beautiful was what set her apart. Perfectly packaged, she could easily be considered in the ranks of Aaliyah, Jennifer, and Janet, minus the refinement. Fellas and ladies alike were intimidated by her looks. All the other females in the club were either openly hating on her or lusting after her. Guys were buying her drinks and flashing cash like there was no tomorrow trying to impress her. All the men in the club were dying to step to her but they were afraid that if they approached her and she laughed at their advances they would never live it down. Greg had no such fear.

Greg positioned himself directly in front of her. They made eye contact and the stage was set for an evening of intense sexuality. She was sitting on a couch and he was directly in front of her in a chair separated by about 10 feet or more. She opened her legs to reveal her surprise. Even with the dim lights of the club, he could see the reflection of the silver bar that had pieced her clit. People started to gather around and take notice, at first inconspicuously, then more voyeuristically. The chemistry between the two of them was electrifying. Greg kept his distance; he knew how the game was played. The young lady was desperate for his attention; she needed him to want her. She pulled her skirt up to her waist and non-verbally dared anybody else to even come near her. Her gaze was focused completely on Greg.

He mouthed the words, “Fuck yourself,” and she proceeded to do so. She spread the lips of her pussy with her left hand and rubbed her clit with the index finger of her right. She seductively rubbed her pussy up and down, dipping her finger in her hot pussy. Her finger was coated with juices and she made a point of suck them off like she was sucking a dick. She loved all the attention and the admirers. All the while, not 20 yards away, people were dancing the night away, totally unaware, to the latest joint from DMX. The nameless beauty was forming quite a crowd around her with her performance. People had now formed a circle around them, waiting for more instruction from Greg. Everyone watched in silence as she got more and more into fucking herself, but the effects were taking their toll. Hard dicks were protruding from the latest Sean John, Enyce, and FUBU gear. The ladies were discretely stimulating themselves, afraid that if they were too conspicuous, people would think that they were desperate for attention. If there hadn’t been metal detectors searching everyone at the door, you could have cut the tension with a knife.

Greg was amused. He yielded his natural power over the woman from across the room. With a snap of his fingers he signaled for someone to move the table that separated him and his new friend out of the way. Immediately, brothas lifted the decorative but substantial coffee table out of the way and where it disappeared to is anyone’s guess. By this time, the woman was fingering herself like crazy. She had spread her legs wide and was fucking herself with reckless abandon. She had three fingers thrusting in and out of her pussy and was rubbing on her clit. She reached down and shoved her finger in her ass and the entire crowd gasped for air with her, like they felt the same sensation with her. Greg stood up and took his dick out. He moved closer to her, within a few feet. He started stroking it and everyone there could see the look of desperation in the girl’s eyes. She shut her eyes and started ramming her fingers in and out of her ass. She was breathing hard and lost in her own pleasure.

Greg cold tell she was about to cum and he said, “Don’t you dare cum. Stop right now. NOW!” She couldn’t stop. She was too far-gone. She needed the release. The feeling of ecstasy and pleasure in her ass were not of this world. Greg signaled the two women who were closest to her to grab her hands and make her stop. “Restrain her, don’t let her move. Hold her arms.” The two women appeared to be in their own trance and followed orders without hesitation. They grabbed her by her wrists and pulled her arms to either side of her. It was too late. That was enough to send her over the edge and the waves of pleasure came crashing down on her. She moaned like a wounded animal. Her body convulsed with rapture. Cum was literally dripping out of her pussy. It took all the strength of the two young ladies to restrain her. She was babbling and screaming, ”Fuck me, Fuck me damn it, ride this pussy, use it, stick me, now!” Greg had seen this look of desperation so many times before. Glazed over eyes, panting and heavy breathing, and a suspension of reality really. Women with the look of need on their faces. She had a need to be pushed further than they had ever been pushed before.

Sensing the direction things were going, Greg signaled the make shift bodyguards to release their captive. Unsure of what to do next, she simply waited for Greg’s next command. “Crawl to me,” he said. Like a panther, sleek, Black and sexy, she crawled on her hands and knees to him. He grabbed his dick and held it in her face. The crowd drew in closer, fully aware that any live sex act in the club would not only get somebody arrested, but close the club down and result in mad fines and negative publicity, no matter how much the party promoter had paid to rent the club. Kneeling before him, the woman waited for her next instruction. She felt honored to be at the feet of this mysterious stranger, even though she was quite sure she would never see him after that night. Greg held his dick to her lips. He took the tip between his fingers and squeezed it causing pre-cum to ooze out. “Tongue fuck the slit.” With that, the woman stuck her tongue out and began to seductively lick Greg’s rock hard dick. She was trying to get the tip of her tongue in his piss hole. The sensation was enough to make Greg’s dick throb and jump. He was stroking his dick, milking it, forcing more pre-cum out.

Up to the challenge, she was licking it up like it was the sweetest honey. She stuck her tongue out and licked Greg all the way from his balls to the head of his dick, even licking his hand as he continued to jerk off for the crowd. Overcome with lust, he grabbed her head, pulled her by her hair, and slid his dick deep in her mouth with one thrust. Her mouth felt like a hot, wet, tight pussy. She was sucking it like a pro. Her tongue was swirling around the shaft as her lips kept up a steady rhythmic sucking. Her spit was all over him, and if you listened closely, you could hear her slurping noises even over the music. She kept her eyes glued on Greg and eagerly awaited his next command. Greg was on the verge. The inside of her mouth felt like hot silk. The cum was boiling up in his nuts, the sack drawing up close to his body. Lights were flashing, the music pumping and he was thrusting in and out of her mouth. She had taken him deep. He was fucking her face. “Yeah bitch, suck my dick, suck it you nasty whore.” Greg closed his eyes and concentrated on the beautiful woman sucking, licking, and swallowing his dick. The sensations were incredible. The suction on his dick felt like he would never get head this good again in his life. He grabbed the back of her head and started to pump his dick in and out.

He opened his eyes to see the reaction of the crowd. He glanced around him, just to see who was watching and . . . “She” caught his eye. She didn’t fit in with the rest of the crowd, she emanated an air of sophistication and distance. It was her aura that made Greg feel like he was looking that the woman of his dreams. She was staring through him, watching the entire scene. Greg gasped for air and wanted to scream out to his fantasy woman. As quickly as she was there, she was gone. She disappeared into the club.

Distracted and positive it was the woman of his dreams, Greg lost all his concentration. The woman before him now meant absolutely nothing. He wanted to run after his mystery woman, call out to her find out who she was. All of his secret fantasies and desires started flooding his mind. The woman sucking his dick no longer aroused him. He grabbed her head and groaned out loud. Everyone watching knew exactly what was happening. Greg and his dick-sucking friend knew differently. Greg faked it. He pretended to cum. Actress that she was, the young lady didn’t let on any differently. She couldn’t see what had happened, but she had sucked enough dicks to know something was weird, so she just played along.

Greg grabbed his still hard dick and put it back in his pants. He didn’t even wait for her response or to see what was going to happen to the horny crowd. He was off in search of the mystery woman. He looked in every corner of the club. He even went into the employee only areas and the ladies room. He was crazed. He wasn’t even sure what he would say to her when he found her. No luck. She was nowhere to be found. Once more around the club, just to make sure, he emerged out into the night, desperate and confused. Had it all been a dream, did he make it all up? Did she really exist?

Greg was dazed. He began to wonder if he had really seen her at all. Maybe it was just his imagination playing tricks on him. When he really thought about it, he was convinced it was really all blown out of proportion. The woman in his fantasies was his creation; she didn’t really exist. He stood in the night air trying to convince himself he was making it all up. He was kicking himself for running out on ole’ girl in the club. She would have been an interesting depository for some of his frustration. For a minute, he thought about going back inside, but he knew that she could never satisfy his real appetites. His thoughts were distracted. For an instant he recalled the sensation he felt when the ominous stranger made eye contact with him. It was as if she could see right through him. She was not affected like the rest of the crowd. It was as if she was taking notes, objectively observing. It was more than apparent that she saw through Greg’s façade. She saw what no one else could see. Greg shook his head, trying to dissuade himself from such thoughts. He was really losing his mind. There was no way anybody could affect him that was from only thirty seconds of eye contact. He felt so sure about it.

He realized that he had been standing outside in the warm night air for about 30 minutes, just lost in thoughts and fantasies. The only thing that snapped him back into reality was the insistent need in his pants for release. His dick was pulsating, demanding his attention. He summoned for the valet to get his truck and did his best to keep his erection from showing. Once inside his vehicle, the tinted windows shielded him from the rest of the world, but not his fantasies. She was calling out to him now; he could feel her fingernails down his back, her breath as she whispered nasty things in his ear, her hand wrapped around his dick. He was driving around aimlessly in a daze not knowing where to go. All he wanted was for his thoughts to go away. The high beams in his rear view made him snap back into reality. He realized that he was in the red light district of town. It couldn’t hurt to stop off, pick up a magazine or a video before he went home to take some of the pressure off.

As secure as Greg was with his sexuality, when he sought out release for his secret desires, he was intimidated and scared. He was sure no other brothas on the face of the planet shared his thoughts. He entered the store and looked around, no one was there except him and the tattooed white guy behind the counter. He made his way over to his favorite section of the store. He wanted to just take it all in, stand there and look at all the images. Too bad they were all white people on the boxes, but at that particular point and time, he really didn’t give a damn. Greg’s dick was still hard, with no signs of going down any time soon. He heard the chimes on the door signal that someone else had entered but he didn’t turn around. He was going to pick out a magazine and a flick and be out. Ahhh, decisions, which ones to choose? He had just made his selections when he reached out to pick up his choice. Just then, an arm reached across him and grabbed the exact same video.

“I always find that true female domination comes from the softest whisper, not physical force. Don’t you agree?”

Oh, shit. It was “her.” He was frozen. No, it couldn’t be. How? What the…? The blood rushed to his head and his ears were ringing. His heart was racing. His heart was beating so fast, he felt like he was going to faint. His mouth was dry. There was no way he could form words to speak.

“I asked you a question. Aren’t you going to answer me?”, she said. Nope, he wasn’t, he couldn’t. All he could do was just stare. She was exactly the woman he had dreamt of. At 5’8”, around 135 lbs, She was a size 4, no, maybe a 6. Her skin was the most perfect color of mocha, flawless and it looked so smooth, like a baby’s. Her naturally curly hair was pulled up and secured in a severe, dramatic style, but he could tell that the second she let it down, it would go back to Africa, in it’s most beautiful state. She was dressed in a sexy black suit, probably Calvin Klein; it was severe and sophisticated. Her hosiery shimmered off of her perfectly sculpted calves, making him think that they were silk; he imagined that she picked up in Paris on her last trip abroad. Her shoes were definitely Italian. The black leather of her pumps framed her perfect size 7 foot like it was a work of art. Her most striking feature were her eyes, jet-black and mysterious. They were so deep, so mesmerizing, Greg was jealous and captivated at the same time. He looked into those eyes and found his true home.

“Greg, are you going to answer me?”

He was snapped back into reality. “Wait, how do you know my name?”

“I know quite a bit about you Greg. It wasn’t too hard to find out. You have quite the reputation. I would suggest in the future, that if you want to remain anonymous, that you not have women suck your dick in the middle of a very public club. I guess you aren’t going to answer my question. Oh well, have a nice night.”

“No, wait,” the words came tumbling out; there was a panic in his voice. “Uhmmm, yes.”

She looked at him with a disgusted look on her face. She didn’t have to say anything. Greg lowered his eyes and addressed her again. “Yes, I think that the true female dominant can control with just her will, manipulation if you must, not force.” Greg was rather pleased with himself, considering all the blood was not flowing to his brain, but rather his head.

She put her delicate hand on his arm and leaned close. He could feel her breast gently pressed against him. He lips were near his ear. “How do you suppose you should address me when you speak to me Greg?”

There was no fucking way this was happening. No way in hell. Greg managed to squeak out something about not being sure, about now knowing too much about this sort of thing, not knowing her name. “Too bad Greg I thought you had promise.” With that, she turned and started to walk away. He couldn’t let her walk out of his life again.

He was sure it was “her.” He yelled out to her again, “No, please wait. Tell me what I should call you. I don’t know.” The guy behind the counter was hanging on every word. He had put his magazine down and had moved closer to hear every word that was exchanged between the two late night customers. None of that mattered to Greg right then. She didn’t turn back. She put her hand on the door and pushed it open, the chimes ringing in his ear. He ran after her and out into the night, into the dark and desolate parking lot. She was putting her key into her car door when he called out to her again, “Wait . . . Please don’t leave . . .Mistress.”

He stopped dead in his tracks, waiting for some form of acknowledgement from her. She turned and stood in silence. He walked over to her; his eyes were on the ground. “Good boy, I’m proud of you.” She reached out and put her hand in his pants pocket. His erection was more than obvious as she got his keys and said, “ Come on, let’s go.” She walked over to his truck and got in on the driver’s side. Nobody had ever driven Greg’s truck before, except an occasional valet. Greg quickly got in on the passenger side and sat in awe as the woman adjusted the seat and mirrors to suit her. Just then, her cell phone rang. “ … This is Chantal, no . . . I will be in in the morning.” She turned her head and examined Greg’s demeanor and expression. “I need to get a lot of work done so I’ll probably be there the entire day. Have all the files that I requested and be prepared to pull an all nighter. I don’t really care that it’s a Saturday. Be there tomorrow at 8 am and be ready with the things I asked for.”

How incredible could this woman be? She was a woman in control and that made his dick leak precum like a faucet. They were off. It only took a few minutes to figure out that she was driving to Greg’s home. “Wait, how do you know where I live?”

She didn’t even bother to respond. Greg had never even been on the passenger side of his own truck. The view was intoxicating. Here was this magnificent woman controlling him, and he wasn’t even sure how it had happened so fast. He was unsure of what to do with his hands. He was nervous and fidgety. “Caress my thighs Greg.”

“Yes Mistress.” He wanted, no needed, to say it now. He placed his hand on her knee and electricity shot through his body. The muscles in her thighs were tensed. He gently caressed her leg, scared to move up too high and risk offending her. He was drunk with lust. This was the most exquisite sensation he had ever had in his life. For a brief, second he got lost in thoughts of why he so desperately needed to be controlled by a strong Black woman. This was not the time for such reflections. Right now, all he could think about was the unbelievably stunning woman who was capable of controlling his every move right now. He was caressing her leg softly, getting more and more comfortable with that fact when his hand encountered skin. He realized that she was wearing stockings. “Mmmmm.” He whimpered like a baby. Chantal laughed out loud. Surely, Greg had seen dozens of women in stockings before, but this had affected him in the most intense way. They were in his carport before he knew it. All the details of how they got inside his condo were a blur. All Greg knew was that he was in his bedroom with this magnificent woman and she was undressing in front of him like this was her home.

She unbuttoned her suit jacket and revealed the most magnificent set of 36 C’s known to man. They weren’t too big, not too small, they were just right. They were beautifully encased in the most expensive black La Perlier bra ever made. Her nipples were works of art poking through the lace. They were perfect peaks of sensuality to cap off those smooth, brown tits. Her stomach muscles showed evidence of many a personally trained workout. She turned around an unzipped the back of her skirt and slipped it down her legs. The matching panties were French cut, so much more sophisticated than the all too popular thong. Of course a garter belt held up her stockings. Her ass defied