Mistress Fatuma Suleiman, Supreme Matriarch of the world-fastest growing religion, the Fatumanism Faith, looked down at her latest supplicant, Ahmed Dawit. The six-foot-tall, burly and broad-shouldered, bronze-skinned and brown-eyed, hairy Egyptian male grimaced as Fatuma's cohort, Lady Karma, thrust her cock into his asshole. Mistress Fatuma Suleiman smiled...
We laid on the bed as my lovers rubbed their limp cocks on my face and tits and smeared their last drops of sperm on my face and tits. The phone rang. It was Varun. I lay between two men, my tits were in their hands, their dicks were slathering the sperm on my boobs and cheeks and I was talking with my dear hubby. What an irony. Varun told me that he brought...
Lying on his back, Haitian-American college sportsman Taharqa Xavier was exactly where he knew he belonged. The huge strap-on dildo drilling his ass didn't feel so bad. He stroked his long and thick, uncircumcised Black cock and looked at the dominant African Goddess who was fucking him really hard in the ass. Isis Ahmed smiled to herself as she rammed her d...
Ahmed believed in the American dream. He grew up in a rigid, conservative country where everything was tightly controlled, from government to morality to style of dress. He enjoyed freedom--not so much political freedom, which didn't interest him terribly--but freedom to go and do what he pleased when he pleased. Ahmed was also shocked by the very different...
The inhibitions had gone with liquor and modesty had gone with Varun, Sharma started stripping me. He lunged and grabbed me in a tight embrace from rear. He pulled the "pallu" of my sari. He unraveled my saree by taking out the pleats and I am in my skirt and blouse. Sharma rolled up the skirt and bunched it around my waist. He began feeling my ass cheeks, l...
The Paul & Jenny Stories Pt. 14m: Back to Egypt Part 13 A Paul and Jenny story. Copyright 2000 by Paul. All rights reserved. All events and characters are fictitious. Paul. I held Jenny's hand as we stood there in the darkness. At first the silence was so complete it almost felt heavy. Then I heard a sound. A scratching sound. Then the tip, tip, tap sou...
Running all over the Hood. Catching law-breaking Black men. And punishing them the best way I know how. That's what I do. I love to make them change their ways. This looks like a job for me, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Rhonda Jackson. I was born and raised in the City of Detroit, way down in the State of Michigan. My parents Antoine Jackson and Andrea M...
The four college students heard footsteps approaching the door. "Here comes old Jungle Pussy!" said Rohit. "Smelly jungle pussy you mean," added Ahmed." "Stinky brown ass and jungle pussy!" said Hrishi, trying to outdo his friend. Romesh let out a big howl of laughter just as the door knob started to turn. The class room door flung back with a loud ban...
This is my second submission to literotica. Before the story I would like to begin by thanking all of those who sent me encouraging words through feedbacks and comments to my first submission. It has given me even more enthusiasm in writing for erotic pleasure, both yours and mine. The following story is also based on a fantasy of mine and I would like to s...
My name is Rachel Winston Jacobs. And I am a Muslim. I was born in North London, England, and lived there my whole life. When most people think of a Muslim woman, I'm not what they think of. I stand six feet tall, with long blonde hair and pale blue eyes. I was born in the United Kingdom to conservative Anglican parents. I was a student at Cambridge Universi...