what’s it going to be? Pt1 By Ava I. Cooksey

Footsteps rang out into the long, dimly lit corridor. Each step sounding like a crackle of thunder to my ears. I listen to the whisper of those around me, followed by the subsequent hush as the footsteps come closer. I can’t yet see which guard is on duty today, but whoever it is, is walking with purpose. Hmmm I wonder who’s getting the ass whipping today. My body begins to tense as the footsteps draw nearer, and what do you know, they stop right in front of my cell. As if to announce the guards’ presence, the light in the corridor above my cell flickers out. Guess I’m the lucky victim today. Bummer.

I look up to see who won the privilege of making me bleed, but it’s so dark I can’t see a face. I haven’t properly fed in days and some of my senses have been dulled to that of a human. But I’d know that silhouette anywhere. Victoria. Things are starting to look up. I stand and stretch my weary body, and even though I can’t see her face, I’m very aware of her eyes stalking my every move. She reaches down and unhooks the keys from her belt while I wait patiently for her to come to me. I can never predict her arrival, but when she comes here it always lifts my spirits. She likes to hear tales about what life is like in my world. Tales from a time before my capture and enslavement. I happily indulge her fascination because she is the only one who does not seek to bring me pain. The others all come with their devices and hate-filled words, meant to break my body and spirit.

But not her.

She opens the door to my cell, quickly enters, then turns to shut and lock it. She seems rather hurried today, which is odd because we have all the time in the universe. I’m immortal. And if this were a different time, I would make her one too. She turns back to face me, and now that she’s in the light I can see her face. Beautiful as always, but now she wears an emotion I haven’t seen in a long time. Love and something else I can’t name. That’s odd, but not entirely unwelcome.

“If I ask you for a favor, would you say yes?” She whispered as she sauntered up to me. With every step she took, I could hear her heartbeat accelerate until it beat a staccato against her sternum and the blood being forced through her veins overheated her skin, permeating the air with her scent. Quite heady.

“What favor could I possibly grant you? I’m surrounded by silver embedded walls…not to mention the guards wielding the holy water. I have nothing to give.” I gestured to the walls as I stared down into that beautiful visage.

“You have more to give than you know; I’m just asking that you say yes.” She breathed. I noticed her body start to quiver and I did the only thing a man of my station and upbringing would allow…

“Yes.”

And then it happened. She aligned her body to mine, wrapping her slender arms around my neck, and she kissed me. The air surrounding us became electrified. She unwound her arms and slid her palms down my chest, around my sides and ending at the small of my back. I could feel my arousal unfolding between us. And from the way she gyrated her hips against mine, I could tell she felt it too. With lazy pushes, her hips pushed in and back, stroking my shaft as I shifted my hands onto her arms and then her waist.

The kiss became hungry and bruising as I thrust deep with my tongue. I let my hands fall from her waist to the backs of her thighs. As if anticipating my next move, she leapt onto me, wrapping her legs firmly around my waist. The situation was turning critical. I don’t think she realizes what bedding me would mean for her future. In order to lie with me she would have to become my bonded mate. And that would require a blood exchange and for her to give up her humanity. And that would land her in a cell just like mine.

Abruptly I ended the kiss. “Do you know what you ask of me? I told you the stories…You would end up a prisoner in the very place you work!”

“Not necessarily” She said, unwrapping her legs and standing on her own feet.

“There is no other alternative that I can see Victoria! You play with something you don’t understand.” I all but yelled at her. I must make her see reason before my will snaps and she ends up on her back.

“What if I said I can free you? What if I could get you back to your home? Would you agree then?” She stared defiantly into my eyes.

“Can you? And if you could, why would you? What reason prompts you to help me by sacrificing everything you have and are?” I demanded.

“Because I want to belong. And more importantly I want to belong to you. The only thing that has been right in my life is my time with you. My mom always said to find a man who could offer me forever. And…well you can literally give me forever. I want to be a part of your world.” She reached for my hand and pressed her keys into my palm

“Well what’s it going to be?”

written by Ava I. Cooksey
For The black urban times

Published by Orrin Carter
Of The Black Urban Times

writer is a freelance writer, and not affiliated with The Black Urban Times LLC

A Night of Passion

Destinee Love

Begins with the kiss of two lovers caressing and touching, the exploration of each other’s sweet sensual touches.  Lips meeting, fingers entwined in her hair, her gripping the back of his head unquestionably living the lustful moment.

Candles flickering, soft sensual music playing while lust and pleasure fills the air.  Laying side by side next to one another staring hungrily in each other’s eyes when all of a sudden; Clothes begin ripping from one another, quickly entering the other as a groan slips from the tip of his soft kissable lips. The scratching of skin and gripping of sheets, moans filling each other’s ears as both beg for more, and only more.

Beads of sweat run down as their gyrating bodies move faster, him penetrating her with swift speed, entering in and out faster and deeper, harder then slower. Hours of forbidden lust between these two lovers, with no one to disrupt their passion as they seep into the pleasures of each other’s craving for desire.  A groan and a moan ring out, their

Poet's Corner: "Mind Sex"

She comes to me, naked
As the day she was born.
No fake parts or implants;
Just her natural curves and
Waves. My wet tongue slides
Against her smooth skin,
Sucking in bits of cocoa along
Its path from the peak to the valley.
Now she strips me bare, and
We stare at our nudity, like
Adam and Eve prior to shame.
No guilty thoughts enter our minds;
What we're doing isn't wrong, it's
Only right. I lay her on the bed
And part her ways, carefully absorbing
The fragrance of her seduction.
My muscle presses against her
Engorged flesh. She allows me
Inside of her lucid cravings with no
Baggage wearing her down,
No deceit covering her flaws,
No pepper spray hidden in her purse.
She comes to me, naked
As the day she was born.
Before she learned of the world
And the calloused hands of love.
Before gravity shifted and pressed
Down heavily upon her -- forcing her
To crawl. She crawled to me, like
A baby, and as I penetrated her mind,
We matured and grew into one being
While practicing mind sex.

By A. Jarrell Hayes
www.ajhayes.com

POETS: Poet's Corner is accepting submissions. Email 1 - 3 poems with a short bio and 1 - 2 links to A. Jarrell Hayes at ajhayes@theblackurbantimes.com.

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Book Review: "Sexaholics" by Pynk

Sexaholics by Pynk
Reviewed by A. Jarrell Hayes

Stories of celebrity sexaholics (people addicted to sex) make for great gossip topics and South Park spoofs. Tiger Woods’ infidelities and voicemail/text foolishness essentially wrote the jokes for many late night comedians for weeks, months even. But sexaholism should be taken seriously, just like any other addiction. There are stories from regular people that have yet to be heard.

In Pynk’s new novel Sexaholics, Pynk takes the reader inside a sexaholic meeting and into the personal lives of four regular women. There’s Miki, a successful hotel executive and mother who prefers an assortment of men, rather than just one; Valencia is a hot mami who can’t get enough of men and women, she’s also Miki’s best friend; Teela enjoys watching other people have sex, even if it’s her man with another woman; and Brandi, the alcoholic middle school teacher who doesn’t sleep with a man more than once and often moonlights as a hooker.

The four women are new members of a Sexaholic Anonymous (SA) program, and the book starts off with them in their first meeting. After the characters relate what drove them to join the SA group, they return to their regular lives. Miki, Valencia, and Teela all have significant others waiting for them at home, but their partners aren’t committed to helping the women combat with their sex addiction. But, then again, how many men would?

The scenes after the SA meeting is of the women sexing it up – and the scenes are hot and steamy. The book is full of twosomes, sexy threesomes, and wild more-somes. Throughout much of the book it doesn’t appear that any of the women are trying to curb their lustful ways – but going from sexaholic to nun overnight is unrealistic and makes for poor erotic literature.

Like with many addicts, Miki, Valencia, Teela, and Brandi continue along on their lustful paths until something traumatic happens and they realize that their addiction is the cause. Pynk does attempt to explore the mindset of the women and get to the root causes of why the women are addicted to sex, but they come out in monologues that appear out of place with the rest of the novel.

The book falls victim to the pitfall when writing about multiple protagonists: one character and story doesn’t get as developed or as many pages as the other ones. Pynk does break the book into different chapters for the different women, but at the end I felt shortchanged with the lack of exploration into the lives of two of the women.

Pynk’s down-to-earth and fast-paced writing style keeps the story moving and entertaining. The sex scenes are plentiful and titillating. In this book, sex isn’t injected into the story, but the story is injected into sex and the consequences of being a sex addict. In Sexaholics, Pynk delivers on what the audience wants: and that’s sex – lots of it.

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Book Review: Back Door to the Black Door

“Betrayal”

By Velvet

Reviewed by A. Jarrell Hayes

Welcome back to the Black Door, where all your desires can come true. Hidden behind unique and colorful Venetian masks you can take on a different persona. You are endowed with the ability to become a new sexually free person, and experience life as it is meant to be lived: absent of categories, such as son or wife. Just like the fictional Black Door sex club, Velvet’s most recent book in the Black Door series, Betrayal, is much more than a hedonistic romp; it has the ability to grab the reader with its vivid prose and multi-dimensional characters.

The characters come to life on the page and bring their own emotional baggage to the story. There’s Trey, only son of a squeaky clean Supreme Court justice and owner of the New York-based sex club The Black Door; Preston, Trey’s father, who is a bit of a pathos and is too preoccupied with his own life that he blindly trusts everyone around him, to his detriment; Ariel, Preston’s wife and Trey’s ex-lover, the foster child who grows up to have a successful law career but is haunted with abandonment issues; and Michele, the sexy slim-downed ex-fat girl that will use her acquired “influence” over men – and women – to her advantage.

The betrayal in this novel happened previously in the Black Door books. Trey and Ariel have an affair. But at that time Trey is dating Michele and Ariel is with Trey’s father, Preston. Both Preston and Michele discover the betrayal, but Preston has a stroke and can no longer recollect the incident. Ariel then takes this prime opportunity to marry Preston, and enlist Trey and Michele in a cover-up scheme worthy of Richard Nixon and Watergate – the only thing this book is missing is Deepthroat, but there was another kind of deep throat going on in this title.

To add tension and conflict to the novel, Michele, the only reluctant participant in the cover-up, lands a job working as Justice Preston’s secretary and assistant. Obviously Ariel and Michele are constantly at one another’s throats throughout the entire novel, but the only reason Michele keeps her job is that she is the weakest link in Ariel’s chain of deceit used to keep her husband.

Preston, arguably the book’s most successful character, is also the most static. The main plot of the book revolves around him and his lost memory and the attempt to hide the ultimate betrayal from him until his memory returns, which allows him to be pushed and moved by the other characters in a way that seems out of character for a Supreme Court justice. He tolerates Ariel and Michele’s bickering without putting an end to it or choosing a side; he becomes an easy mark for Michele’s seduction and appears powerless to stop her; and he constantly believes anything the other characters say to him, regardless of concrete proof or evidence – especially when Michele glosses over her involvement in the scheme and adds other details not factual into story of the affair.

Even though Betrayal is the continuation of the story begun in the novels The Black Door and Seduction, it invites new-comers to the series with open arms and background reviews of important events portrayed in the earlier novels. The deep detail into the back story does create scenes and sub-plots that at first don’t seem to fit in the action of Betrayal – such as the scenes featuring the private lives of Senator Oglesby and his wife, Angelica, and their involvement with the Black Door club – but they bring to light some of the dark intrigue that effect the moods and attitudes of the characters, especially Justice Preston, and eventually foreshadow possible events in upcoming books.

If you’re expecting a book that is filled with sex for sex’s sake, you’re in for a shocking surprise. The sexual encounters, from the first scene between Trey and new beau Lexi to Michele’s desperate romp with the married Congressman Laird Forester, advance the plot and storyline and seem in no way shape or form thrown into the mix just to make the book an erotic tale. The scenes are tasteful, non-offensive, and sophisticated – just like the rest of the prose. Velvet’s descriptions of the places and smells and emotions are worthy of contemporary classic literature. In contrast, the images Velvet gives for the characters provide just enough detail for the reader to use their imagination and create pictures of the faces and bodies that work best for their own sexual fantasies. That’s what this book is: a fantasy with substance; a guilty pleasure that doesn’t leave you feeling guilty.

A. Jarrell Hayes’ most recent books are “Reign of the Good King: Book Two of the Good King Trilogy” and the poetry collection “Just Another Angry Black Man.” He is an educator and freelance blogger.