For love and for play, I like Black women and bodacious, big-bottomed and dark-skinned Latinas. My last serious relationship was with Stacy Morgan, a six-foot-tall, sexy and big-bottomed, stunning Black woman I met in the city of Atlanta. One of the famously gorgeous Black lesbians of the South. We had some fun together. She's the first woman I ever played sub with. Oh, man. I get hot and bothered just thinking about it. Kneeling before my gorgeous Black mistress and giving her pussy a good licking while she tugged on my collar and urged me to continue pleasuring her. Oh, man. I opened myself to her completely. Mind, body and soul. I remember the first time we tried anal play together. Stacy put me on all fours and spread my ass cheeks wide open. She licked and probed my ass with her fingers. It felt so good I couldn't stand it for long. Then she introduced my ass to its first invader. A very thin, eight-inch blue dildo. She worked that dildo up my ass, introducing me to the other side of anal sex. I got fucked in the ass for the first time, and I absolutely loved it. Stacy was a lot of fun. Until she dumped me for some Arab chick she'd been seeing behind my back. It took me a long time but I got over Stacy.
That's why my choice of life mate absolutely stunned my friends and family. Seriously. People thought I had lost my damn mind. I surprised everyone, including myself, when I fell in love with Stephen, a very normal and conventional guy. Tall, good-looking and Black. Just the way I liked my men. When I like men, that is. He used to play football for Northeastern University. Now he's enrolled in the school's MBA program. He works for a corporation on State Street as some kind of executive in training. A lot of women, especially sisters, would be impressed. I wasn't. I fell in love with him but his high-powered world never stunned me in any way. It left me cold. Why? Simply because I've been there before. I majored in business administration at Suffolk University and earned my bachelor's degree in it three years ago. Rather than working for some big company, I created my own business with some like-minded lady friends. An all-female company of fitness trainers. Working with executives, athletes as well as regular people. We were definitely a unique company and our business was doing good. We have locations in Boston, Brockton and Plymouth. I tried telling the instructors, especially the lesbians, not to get involved with female clients. Nobody stuck to that rule, not even me.
All these thoughts ran through my head as I continued my domination of Stephen Vincent, the Haitian-American guy who stole my heart. Suddenly, I pull out of him. He gasps in protest as my dildo leaves his ass. I ask him to change position and get on his back. He's puzzled, but he obeys. I plunge the dildo right back inside of him. He squeals. I smile nastily and hold his face in my hands. His legs are dangling in the air. I look deep into his eyes as I drill the dildo deep into his ass. I wonder how many other Black women would do this. Bang the hell out of their boyfriend or husband after he's admitted to having role-reversal fantasies. Lots of Black guys are dying to get fucked in the ass by a dominant sister wearing a strap-on dildo. They just won't admit it out loud. But that's okay. Every time you see a Black man walking funny and smiling oddly, maybe it's not some swagger thing. Maybe he's walking that way because his woman rammed a dildo up his ass last night.
Hard and fast, I pound into Stephen. Until he begs for mercy. I sigh. I am slightly disappointed in him. Even though this is our first time doing this sort of thing together, I thought he could take more. Oh, well. Each person's limits are different. You learn that as you play with different partners. What may seem okay and even light for some people might be too risqué for others. That's just the way people are. I slowly pulled out of Stephen and we spent several seconds simply staring into each other's eyes. Without a word being spoken, I kissed him lightly on the lips. It seemed like the thing to do, I guess. Stephen looks at me and smiles. He's so strange, this husband of mine. He's a staunchly religious and deeply conservative Haitian-American with core beliefs very much different from mine. Yet he's the one I chose to spend the rest of my life with. That's because deep down, we're very much alike. We're both bisexual, for one thing. He swings both ways, but doesn't think I know. He considers himself a Republican, yet he supports Same-Sex Marriage, Affirmative Action and voted for Barack Obama. Republican my ass!
After recovering, Stephen tells me he had a great experience being dominated by me. I am not a bit surprised. I should do this professionally someday, seriously. I am quite good at it. We kiss tenderly, and he puts his arms around me. He tells me he's lucky to have me. Well, duh. Of course he's lucky to have me. All the guys and half the chicks in Boston want a piece of me. Stephen tells me that he loves me. I look into his eyes. He means what he says, though I don't give him too much credit for saying it after I've just fucked him. He's so secretive, and I am as open as can be about my life. I have a bet going on with some friends of mine as to when Stephen's going to muster the courage to tell me about his bisexuality. I swore my friends to secrecy, don't worry. It's just one of those fun things my inner circle and I like to do, you know. Some people bet on sports, we bet on who's queer, who's not and when in hell they're coming out. It's how we do it in Boston. I'm an openly bisexual Black woman married to a bisexual Black man. And I wouldn't have it any other way.
