I spent my whole life being afraid of Black men, and I am proud to say that I'm not afraid anymore. I have one in my life, and we absolutely love each other. As an Afrikaner woman born and raised in the region of Gauteng, Republic of South Africa, knee-jerk fear of Black males is what was expected of me. At least that's how things were in the old days. My...
Author's note: Like most good stories there is true behind this one. This isn't 100% but many parts are. I hope you enjoy and let me know if you want to hear the rest! This is a story about a young couple that moved down the street from my wife Mary, and me about 6 years ago. We live in a suburb that is borderline rural. Each neighbor is at least 100-200 ya...
"What's up, handsome?" I said to Dalton Cobb as I approached him casually, with a smile on my face. The six-foot-two, handsome Jamaican-Canadian stud smiled nervously, and I did my best to put him at ease. Well-dressed, smelling good and looking even better, Dalton was definitely worth my time. I've always had a thing for handsome brothers, and although I do...
Sandy moved back to the corner of the elevator as the two young black men stepped through the open doors. Her pulse quickened and her mind raced. She hated judging people she didn't know but they were both dressed like thugs, with baggy, sagging jeans and tight tank tops. They were both loud and boisterous, two traits the quiet midwestern born mother of thre...
Preface: Before I start this chapter, I just want to mention it's been six months since I submitted my last story. There's two reasons for that. First is I gave birth to a baby boy last September and that kept me busy. Second is I did some soul-searching and didn't like what I saw about myself. The marriage years leading up to my first gangbang, I felt I c...
I want to start off by saying I am not an exhibitionist or an extrovert, nor am I a shrinking violet. It just so happens that a couple of years ago I had an encounter that changed my life. Whether it was for the better or for worse I will let the reader decide, but I hope you don't judge me. I am a Muslim female living in the United Kingdom in a multi-cultu...
Lying next to his lover, Karim Teshome, Said Mahdi felt restless. Inside their house on Avenue Des Epinettes, deep in the Orleans suburb of the City of Ottawa, Ontario, all was quiet. Outside the house, the rain fell in thick droplets, not unusual since it was early October. A few hours ago, the two young men had a happy reunion. Karim finally returned from...
I see a lot of weird stuff going on these days. Especially in the Black community. When I moved from the town of Boston, Massachusetts, to the city of Ottawa, Ontario, I was in for a shock. I knew Canada was different from the U.S. but I never thought the strangest folks in Canada would be my fellow Blacks. The name is Stephen Saint Preux and I approve this...
Andre West fidgeted in his car seat. "OK," he whispered into his watch, like it was a spy gadget from a James Bond movie, "the time is 17:30 hours and I've been surveilling the unknown address for two hours with no sign of any movement other than the mailman leaving a package." Did it matter that he didn't have a smart watch recording him, that his watch was...
This story is part of an ongoing series. The chronological order of my stories is listed in WifeWatchman's biography, which is currently not updating. Stories after Music Box Dancer are: Return To Apple Grove, Media Matters. Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas. This story contains graphic scenes,...