It’s that time of year again. Every Spring, it never fails, my sexuality is awakened like the return of the birds and the bees and the flowers on the trees. My nipples seem to stay hard constantly and my pussy throbs at the slightest provocation. I fantasize about sex, about the sights, smells, and sensations of sex at its most raw, passionate state. I think about it, dream about it, I am reminded of past erotic exploits constantly, throughout the warm, sunny days and steamier, hot nights. I CRAVE a man in my life with whom I can express myself, my uninhibited, unashamed, primitive, primal, sexual self.
I need a lover I can let down my guard with, express myself without fear or shame, someone who cares about me outside the bedroom and who desires me completely inside it. I want hours and hours of hot, sweaty fucking that wakes the neighbors and leaves me drained of my every bodily fluid. I want to make a huge wet spot on the sheets and then fuck those same sheets off the bed.
I want him. I want MY lover... [read the rest of this marvelous piece on AfroerotiK's blog here]