Here are my 2020 sex goals summarized. I want to have lots of adventurous, sensual, erotic, wild, great sex that makes my body feel warm and lights up my nerve endings and sends explosive sensations through my body that make me gasp and make garbled sounds that resemble no language. I want my sexual partners to experience my pleasure and translate it to theirs and to ask me what makes me explode. I said, I want to suck dick and feel him throbbing, I want my pussy sucked like it was the only thing my partner had ever tasted and I want absolutely no regrets, and finally, no bad sex.
Now, I like my black bodies, I have no shame in saying I am immensely turned on by black dick and black pussy, but I am now in a country where I have to hunt for it and considering the fetishization of black bodies means more competition……right? Maybe I can try new experiences and see how that goes.
I have always craved West African sex, particularly Ghanaian and my oh my, never did I expect to get myself some Ghanaian dick all the way in the global north.
Now this man is sweet on the eyes – soft full lips, illuminating eyes and a smile that sent chills down my spine, or maybe I was simply horny. I conversed with him and he was quite the gentleman. We talked about our different contexts, culture and otherwise, why we were both so far from home and eventually got to what we were both expecting from each other. I could tell he was trying to be a gentleman but he was failing because his gaze kept trailing my face and all the way down to my breasts. He would go silent and stare intently as though he could see right through my clothes.
It was a Wednesday afternoon when I went to his place, nervous but excited because I desperately needed some steady and savage fucking. It had been a while and the thought of his black African length inside me sent to the wildest throngs of my imagination. I watched him in his shorts, desperately longing to strip him naked and watch him stroke himself as he offered me an energy drink. Little did I know I would actually need it.
He kissed me, and his lips were as soft as they looked, ever so gently tugging my top up and pausing to look at me as I lifted my arms so he could remove it, unhooking my bra and he stood there staring at my breasts in their full PMS glory. He pulled me closer and then I felt it. Now this man has told me not to have high expectations of his length after I casually mentioned I like big things. He helped me out of my clothes and I watched him strip naked and my spirits awoke and lit the fuck up because my word, his dick was beautiful.
I wanted him in my mouth, desperately tasting him and feeling him quiver as I held him in my mouth but he had other plans. He told me to lay on my back and relax, rolling the condom on his very erect dick and directing my legs to his broad shoulders, slowly entering my very wet honeycomb, filling me slowly with his hands firmly holding me in place.
What was a welcome surprise was his calm response to my body when I flinched because he went in too deep and the realization that my body could move the way he made it move, the gentle transition through the various positions.
He didn‘t want me to do much really, as we moved from the middle of the bed to the side of the bed by the closet, then to the couch. He didn‘t want me to move my body much, he moved and filled me from underneath as he massaged my back and trailed with his fingers. My spirit had left my body at this point.
He pulled out and told me to sit down and touch myself.
“ Show me how you touch yourself.” He told me, intently looking at me stroking himself.
“Tell me what it feels like to touch your pussy”.
I happily obliged, feeling my body struggle to maintain a sense of composure watching this man pleasure himself. He took over and dare I say fingered the fuck out of me, my being shattered and he enjoyed watching me quiver and muffle my garbled screams of pleasure. I regained my composure and grabbed his hand and looked at him as I sucked his finger. I enjoy knowing what I taste like.
He made my body feel magical sensations which made my desires grow, watching him relax and laugh at me as I failed to control my pleasure-driven laughter, laying in our sweaty nakedness, myself glowing from the thorough sexing, though I remain craving to taste him in my mouth.
I have very high expectations from West African men now, but for now, I must text this man because writing this has drenched my panties and this thirst must be quenched.
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