It is an urge you never get over. It has stayed with me my entire life. Still it is the source of inner excitement and intrigue and desire. As a young woman just out of college I experienced a most intense love affair with a beautiful black prince named Carlton. My lover was just finishing his MBA and ready to pursue a career in big time finance, and despite my desire to follow and be with him, Carlton was determined to move on solo. I was hurt and shattered that he didn’t want me to be a part of his life anymore. But as a young professional I was determined to make a healthy life for myself. As the pain of Carlton’s rejection eased I was once again able to be active socially and meet other singles and enjoy the freedom of the unattached lifestyle. I dated a number of men and even allowed myself to enjoy an active sex life.
As a modern woman sex was always important to me and sometimes let my men know it. Over a period of three years I would enjoy the company of approximately a dozen lovers. My social life was private from my career and I never let any of it interfere with my job. Yet, as I experienced one man after another, I was repeatedly yearning for a lover like Carlton. Nobody ever satisfied me or touched my inner sole like my black prince. All of my dates were with white guys who all worked very hard at satisfying my needs. As I was enjoying the single life a girlfriend confided in me that she had a black boyfriend and how great the sex was with him. It immediately brought back memories of Carlton. She would tell me how long he could go and how much more he would cum in her than any white guy she ever had. She let me know how alive and wanted he made her feel.
At just this point I met and fell in love with a wonderful guy that swept me off my feet. We had so much in common and enjoyed each other’s company. I knew immediately that I was destined to marry T. He was different than other guys and didn’t want me just for sex. By our third date I was begging him to make love to me. As we made out on his bed I found out why he was taking things slowly. He had trouble getting enough erection to penetrate me. But he was such a great guy we continued our dating. Within a couple of more dates he was able to make things work and we made love for the first time. Sex with T was OK and I was happy to help him enjoy and feel close. After our marriage sex was about three times a week and pretty much always the same, but T was the love of my life. A little over a year into our marriage on a Saturday night when he had to work overtime I arranged to go to the movies with my girlfriend. When I arrived at her apartment her black boyfriend was there with one of his buddies, Jamal. We decided to go to the movies as a foursome, but instead of the movie we had planned the guys took us to an adult theater. The movie featured several interracial couples where the black guys were very sexy and very big. As we watched Jamal lightly began to put his hand on my knee. Mesmerized by the sex on screen I did not push him away and, as the movie went on, he began to slide his hand up and down my leg. I was becoming sensitized by the movie and put my hand on top of Jamal’s as he increased his stroking. I enjoyed his contact but made sure that Jamal didn’t go too far. After the movie we stopped at a club for a drink. There was a band playing great music and before long we were on the dance floor and enjoying a great scene. Jamal would spin me around and started grinding me from behind. The drinks and the atmosphere were wonderful and I began putting my hand on Jamal’s bulge as he continued to grind at me. Afterward we went back to my friend’s apartment for another drink. Jamal seemed so sexy and as he sat next to me on the sofa be began deep kissing me. Within minutes my friend took her boyfriend to her bedroom leaving me and Jamal on the couch. Almost immediately I felt Jamal run his hand to my pussy and was stroking me through my clothes. Remembering the interracial sex at the movies I was getting wet anticipating what was to come. Jamal stood me up and we began to undress each other.
I couldn’t believe the size of his penis after being only with my husband for the past year and a half. Jamal stood hard and erect as I got on my knees to take him in my mouth. As much as I tried to deep-throat him I was only to get half of his member in my mouth. Jamal laid me down on the sofa and spread my legs. I expected that we would go straight to fucking but, instead, Jamal began to lick my swollen pussy. I was so ready for him that I exploded in orgasm within a minute or two. I need the man inside me and Jamal quickly accommodated. I knew that it was wrong being a married woman but thought to myself “how could something that feels so good be wrong”? I noticed the clock in the room as we started and after nearly every position imaginable, Jamal and I were still going at it forty minutes and many orgasms later when I felt him tense up and erupt with a hot volcano of cum deep inside of me. I was drenched in his love juice and as satisfied as a woman could be.
After cuddling with my black lover I had to get up and get dressed and head for home before T got home from work. Although I was on the pill, when my time came a couple of weeks later I missed my period. My GYN doctor confirmed for me that I was indeed pregnant. I was immediately struck with fear over whose baby it might be. If I proceeded with the pregnancy and delivered a black baby I knew my marriage would be over. Although sex with Jamal was amazing, T was the love of my life and I couldn’t risk losing him. A couple of Saturdays later while my husband was at work my girlfriend drove me to the medical center where I received an abortion. It is a guilt that I have kept with me just as with my desire for black men.
After the birth of two babies with my husband and a tubal ligation, it was a desire that I would pursue secretly for many years. Sex with virile black men has fulfilled my desires again and again and hopefully well into the future.