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Why Black Men Love Black Women

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The name is Raul Foreman. A big and tall, caramel-skinned young Black man living in the city of Boston, Massachusetts. I attend Saint Francis University’s School of Business. I’m only one semester away from getting my Master’s degree in Business Administration. And to be honest, I can’t wait. I’ve been at the school for six years now. Did all my undergraduate work there while leading the Football team to back-to-back national championships in the NCAA Division Two. Those were the days. I miss playing Football. However, there’s more to life than sports.

These days, life couldn’t be better. I live in an off-campus apartment and I’m doing alright. Yes, we’re in a recession but my job prospects aren’t as bleak as most people’s. My uncle, Leonard Foreman is the Executive Director of Regional Operations for Blake & Jordan Inc., a Textiles company which employs twenty eight hundred people in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts and eleven thousand people nationwide. He told me an entry-level position would be waiting for me the moment I earned my MBA. I’m very happy to know this.

There is something else I’m really thankful for. Or should I say someone. Her name is Paula Ferguson Brown and she’s a lovely Black woman I met while studying at the school library. Paula transferred to Saint Francis University from Georgia State University. She’s Captain of the all-new women’s varsity Rugby team. This six-foot-one, voluptuous and big-bottomed young Black woman simply stole my heart. She was cute, friendly and funny. I liked her a lot. I broke my rule about dating anyone who was more than three years younger than me, and I didn’t regret it.

Paula and I have been dating for some time now. Almost two years, I think. I’ve met her father Lennox and her mother Cheryl along with her brother Eric. They’re a middle-class African-American family from Atlanta, Georgia. And they were really proud of their daughter, the first female in their family to lead an NCAA sport team at a traditionally White institution. Paula came from a family of athletes. Her mother used to run Cross Country for Spellman College back in the day and her father played Baseball for Morehouse College. Her brother Eric currently plays Soccer for Georgia Tech. I found that fascinating. I’m basically the only jock in my family. My parents, Roy and Deanna Foreman are both Public School Teachers. My older brother Charlton works in the Information Technologies Department at the Massachusetts Maritime Academy and my younger sister Wilma is a Bio-Engineering major at Northeastern University. Yeah, my family is full of nerds. Paula’s family was apparently inundated by the athletic gene.

Paula came into my life at a very exciting time. I saw myself as finally becoming the man I always wanted to be. A self-sufficient, confident and educated Black man ready to take on the world. I was working as a teacher’s assistant at Saint Francis University. My employer was a tall, stern Black man named James Harrison, distinguished Professor of African-American Literature. Not the most pleasant boss to work for, but he was a very smart man. He was good friends with my former mentor, Jamal Stone, the Director of Athletics. A man I had the utmost respect for. Jamal Stone brought NCAA Football to Saint Francis University three years before I came along. He worked closely with the school’s president, Dr. Loretta Brown, to diversify the student body and the Athletic Department. These days, thirty nine percent of the eleven-thousand-person student body at Saint Francis University were people of African-American or Hispanic descent. A giant leap, considering racial minorities made up three percent of esat escort the student body in the year 2000.

I liked being a student on a campus where so many talented African-American professors worked. Being around so many brilliant Black men and Black women was wonderfully empowering. Diversity had come to Saint Francis University and seemed to be there to stay. Oh, it was still a majority White institution but African-American and Hispanic students and faculty members had made tremendous strides in recent years. There was a Black Student Union, a Hispanic Heritage Society and three Black Fraternities on campus, along with four Black Sororities.

Nowhere was the campus diversity more present than in our Intercollegiate Athletics. The men’s Basketball, Football, Cross Country, Soccer and Track & Field teams were mostly Black, as were the women’s Basketball, Volleyball, Soccer, Track & Field and Cross Country teams. The men’s and women’s Ice Hockey, Lacrosse, Gymnastics, Fencing, Golf and Tennis teams were all White. That’s to be expected, I guess. There were three African-American and a couple of Hispanic student-athletes on the women’s Swimming team and two Asian men on the men’s Swimming team. A major surprise, all things considered. My Paula was one of three African-Americans on the women’s Rugby team but she was the team captain and its most dominant player. Back in High School, she played varsity Football all four years. My lady played Football. I was mightily impressed. And she was cute, with a big booty too. I guess I hit the jackpot.

I loved spending time with Paula. She was so smart and funny. Also, driven and very ambitious. We had a lot in common. Paula was a business major who wanted to hit the ground running when she made her move into the corporate world. She felt that she had two strikes against her, being Black and female. Even though a Black man is President of the United States of America and there are Black Governors and Black Senators around, not to mention female Governors and female Senators, I think Racism and Sexism are here to stay. Black men bear the brunt of the trauma as far as Racism was concerned. The world hates us. We’re always blamed for everything that goes wrong in society. But we’re not going down without a fight. We know there is greatness in us and we can accomplish great things. A certain Hawaiian-born World Leader taught us that. As did the many intelligent and brave Black men and Black women who came before him. Black women don’t get a free pass from Racism. Our sisters don’t have it easy either. The world isn’t too fond of them. But if we work together as a people, I think we’ll be better off as a community in the end.

Paula and I were both busy people, but we set aside time to be together. It’s not easy being in a relationship in today’s world. That’s why divorce rates are skyrocketing, and both men and women are mistreating their spouses. I think patience, understanding and respect are needed to make relationships work. And Paula seemed to be on the same page on that topic. We are a collegiate Black couple trying to make our relationship work. And it takes time and energy. I hate the negative image the media has of Black couples. We’re always shown as bitter, occasionally violent and eternally bickering. That’s not the truth, or even a fraction of it. We’re people, and we have our ups and downs. Being with Paula Ferguson Brown reminded me that the Black love was still alive. Not just for Black celebrities like Beyonce and Jay-Z or Will Smith and Jada Pinkett Smith. Average Black people can stick together and make our romantic relationships work too.

I etimesgut escort remember one steamy lovemaking session Paula and I shared in her dormitory the night after she helped Saint Francis University’s women’s Rugby team defeat the sturdy gals from Bowdoin College. It was one for the ages, folks. Beyond passionate. Reminded me why I just love Black women. I mean that. They have a unique strength and beauty that women of other races simply don’t have. Paula was my strong, beautiful and sensual Black woman. And that night we celebrated her victory in the best of ways.

I laid my sexy Black goddess on the bed, gazing at her gloriously naked body. She looked simply gorgeous. A voluptuous Black woman with a pretty face, large and firm breasts, wide hips, thick and strong legs and a huge, round butt. She was simply beautiful. And I made sweet love to her. First, I kissed her passionately, then licked her from her head to her toes. I liked the way she smelled and tasted. My beautiful Black woman. Paula sighed, and told me to continue. I grasped her firm breasts in my hands, and gently rubbed them while sucking on her large areolas. Looking into her eyes, I pleasured her. My hand made its way between her legs, which she opened for me. I looked at her vagina. It was smooth, and hairy. My woman was natural. Just the way I liked them. I spread her pussy lips, breathed her womanly scent and went in for a lick down. Running her hands through my hair, Paula urged me to be careful. She needn’t have bothered. I always handle my women with care. With my agile tongue, I began to lick and probe her pussy. I’ve gone down on many women before and acquired quite the technique. However, every woman is different and they taste different too. They liked to be handled differently as well. Some urged me to munch on their pussies with gusto while others asked me to be gentle and to take my time. I’m happy to say that Paula fell into the latter category. My favorite. You just can’t hurry through oral sex, you know. Folks, I took my sweet time revving up Paula’s engine. And in the end, she was moaning and panting. Not to mention sweating and cursing profusely. My work was done.

Afterwards, my sweet lady returned the favor. She took my seven and a half inches of uncircumcised Black rod in hand and gently took me into her mouth. I was really surprised that she did that. Truth be told, she’d never gone down on me before. When I asked her, she told me she wasn’t into that sort of thing. I thought she was one of those women out there who simply won’t try oral sex with a man. I thought my situation sucked, pun intended, but I loved her. And yet there she was, sucking my cock with gusto, I might add. Wow. I simply lay there while she went to work on me. I was amazed. This definitely wasn’t her first time going down on a man. She was too good at this. Paula worked me over until I came, then shocked me even further by draining me of my masculine fluids. Hot damn! I think my screams could be heard around the entire city of Boston!

Yeah, we had a good time that night. Paula was freakier than I thought. I mean, after she sucked me off, she made me take her doggy-style. And she asked me to finger her asshole while slamming my dick into her pussy. I did as requested. Wow. I didn’t think my girlfriend got down like that. She always seemed so tame in the bedroom. And now she was asking me to spank her, pull her hair and call her names while doing her. Paula confessed to me that she liked rough sex, and just wasn’t sure how to get me to try it with her. I was stunned. What man doesn’t want a girlfriend who’s into wild and kinky ankara escort stuff? I don’t know why wild women pretend to be tame. Men don’t like tame women. At least not in the bedroom. They’re kind of boring. I wish we could post this somewhere where all women would see it. Oh, well.

It’s now midnight, and Paula is fast asleep. I look at her as she sleeps. She’s really beautiful. Though like so many women, she can’t see it. I like her cute, round face. I like her almond-shaped dark brown eyes. I like her really dark skin. And I like her large breasts, her thick body, her wide hips and her big round butt. Oh, man. I love her butt. I love the way her big butt looks in a Black thong. And I love the way it looks when she bends over to pick up something. Oh, yeah. When I fantasize about her, I imagine her in her Rugby uniform, but just the shorts. Hell yeah. Sadly, she doesn’t see herself as I see her. That’s life I guess.

As I lie awake next to my other half, I find myself thinking about the future. Paula and I talk about these things often. We want to get a place together after she graduates. A nice apartment in the city. She’ll work part-time while attending Business School. I’ll be working full-time to take care of the household we hope to someday have. We want to buy a house either in Avon or Randolph but we’ll take one in Brockton if we have to. We want to have quite a few little ones, but that’s many years down the line. That’s why we always use condoms and she’s on the pill. This isn’t the type of world either of us wants to bring a new life into right now. We’re on the same page on this.

The United States of America is in the crapper right now. The economy is going down the drain. President Barack Obama is trying his best but he can’t do it alone. Not with short-sighted Republicans and weak-willed Democrats dogging him left and right. Sociopaths in high places don’t want things to get better. Tuition rates are skyrocketing at colleges and universities nationwide. Families are being torn apart by the financial pressures couples are experiencing. And I don’t know if it’s because they need someone to blame for their troubles but Hate Groups are really on the rise. The ordinary American person is getting in touch with his or her inner Racist.

The Hate Groups are multiplying like locusts. They’re targeting Black people, Asians, Hispanics, Middle-Easterners and finally, Gays and Lesbians. These haters are everywhere. And they hate the smart, educated and successful Black person most of all. Especially when that person is male. You can’t trust anyone these days. When most people think of a Racist, they envision a bearded White man from someplace like the Deep South waving a Confederate flag and talking about the Good Old Days. I know better. I know the most dangerous Racist of them all isn’t a gun-toting Redneck but a pretty, smart and well-educated young White female who secretly despises non-Caucasians. Such a person is above suspicion as far as most people are concerned. I happen to know better. I know a two-legged viper when I see one. I watch my back. Always.

I am living in a hostile world and I’m surrounded by enemies. Male or female, Black or White, Straight or Gay. A threat can come from anywhere. This is my reality as a college-educated Black male living in America. In a few months, I will have my Master’s degree in Business Administration. And possibly a solid job waiting for me. My Paula still has two years of undergraduate work to complete, and then she has to get into Business School. Life isn’t going to be easy for us. We’re going to have to work really hard just to survive as a couple in the financial mess affecting everybody’s lives nowadays. Calculating our every move carefully because this world won’t hand us a second chance. I think we can make it, though. We’re descended from the Sons and Daughters of Mother Africa, a remarkably resilient bunch. Wish us luck. Peace.

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