ProBlack Feminist Pt. 02

Pro Black Feminist Part 2: White Boy Summer

It's May. The semester is over. Ariel's time with Danny had been exciting, blending a thin line between terror and euphoria.

Weekends during the semester had melted into each other. She liked the way her body ached afterward, how her pelvis pulsed with a soreness that made her feel both claimed and alive.

But now, summer was here, Ariel had taken her last final and moved back home until the fall semester came around. The dorms were closed and her parents were protective, so she wouldn't be ubering anywhere without their permission. They were always asking questions, always needing to know where she was going and who she'd be with. There would be no spontaneous daily Lyft rides to Danny's place. Her family house was only thirty-five minutes from campus, but being here felt like a world away from the freedom she'd found in the dorms.

They texted every day, but the space between messages seemed to stretch. The energy was different. Words on a screen couldn't replace her riding his long dick and the physical bonds they shared.

May drifted into June, each day dragging more than the last. Her brother had opted to stay on campus at the Q Dog frat house for the majority of the summer, leaving Ariel in a quiet house with just her parents and her own restless thoughts.

Then, one Tuesday morning, everything changed.

She returned from a jog around the block, sweat beading at her temples, earpods still in, and slowed as she stepped into the front hallway. Her parents were in the living room, rolling suitcases across the floor and folding clothes into neat piles.

"Going on a trip?" she asked.

Her mother, Patrisse, looked up with a bright smile. "Yes, dear. We're heading to the Pan-African Leadership Summit for Black women in Accra. We leave Thursday."

Ariel blinked. Thursday.

That was in two days. She nodded, the corners of her mouth twitching into a smile.

As soon as she got to her room, she pulled out her phone.

"Want to visit this weekend? My parents won't be home. ???? "

Send.

And just like that, the countdown began.

___

Later that night, Ariel sat cross-legged on her parent's bedroom floor, nestled between her mother's knees.

Neo soul music played in the background as Patrisse worked her hands through her daughter's thick coils. This was their ritual--any time her mother went on a long trip without her, since Ariel could remember, they'd spend a night like this: mother and daughter, catching up over the steady rhythm of hair care.

Tonight, Patrisse was installing faux locs, her fingers moving with practiced grace. She parted Ariel's hair with a wide toothed comb, applied a bit of edge control, then began braiding the foundation for each loc. The scent of shea butter lingered in the air. Each loc was carefully wrapped, twisted, and sealed.

"Hey Ariel," Her mother said, pausing to stretch her fingers, "Do you want to come with us to Ghana? Your dad and I feel bad about leaving you here all alone."

Ariel smirked slightly, her eyes still focused on a muted episode of Living Single on the TV. "Nah, that's okay. I'll sit this one out. I had a long semester and just want to decompress at home this summer."

Truth was, she couldn't wait for them to leave.

Her mother was a professor at her university, so honestly she saw enough of her throughout the school year. Her relationship with her dad was complicated as is. He was a narcissistic, overbearing, selfish, and emotionally distant father. He was a man with illusions of grandeur, consumed with how others perceived him rather than how his actions genuinely affected those closest to him. Driven by a grandiose sense of self, he rarely showed concern for the emotional well-being of anyone else in their household. He imposed a rigid, self-centered worldview on his family, disregarding the autonomy of his wife and both children. Decisions were never collaborative; it was always his way or nothing. This controlling dynamic left a lasting strain on most of his personal relationships, including his relationship with Ariel, shaping it with resentment, distance, and unmet emotional needs. To say Ariel had daddy issues, would be an understatement. She yearned for his love, but at the same time hated her father in a way. Even the black history he taught to Ariel and her brother was from a patriarchal point of view. While she wasn't that close to her mother emotionally, she definitely preferred her feminist lens of the world over her father's ideology.

Also, she had already been to Ghana several times with her entire family on African Ancestry trips. Both of her parents had traced their maternal and paternal lineages to Ashanti ancestors and took the entire family to Accra when Ariel and her brother were in highschool. The experience was nice, but Ariel still identified as a Black American. She was born and raised in America after all.

*Ping*

A text from Danny came through. Ariel read it quickly then closed the message, ensuring her mother wouldn't read it over her shoulder.

Her heart raced.

Danny: "Actually, one of my good friends was going to visit me this weekend. His name is Issac. I'll bring him along, get ready to get tag teamed ;)."

Ariel froze for a second. Her mind raced.

His friend? I don't even know what to do with that.

Ariel hadn't even fully processed the notion fully of bringing one white man in her house, let alone more than one person without the knowledge of her parents.

She hadn't experienced this before. Two guys, two... At the same time? As in a threesome or a train? Her mind scrambled at the thought, the idea of something more than what she had ever known. She only had sex with Danny and one other person before, both experiences in their own way straightforward, familiar. But the notion of something more complicated, something different... it made her heart beat faster, even as the idea seemed so foreign. Could she even handle that? What if it's too much?

And yet, another part of her--curious, restless, excited--was intrigued. What if it's exactly what I've been craving?

A picture came in next.

As her mom reached over to grab more hair grease, Ariel tapped open.

It was an Instagram screenshot of a buff guy--medium height, short buzz cut, and caucasian. He stood tall on the center podium in an auditorium in what looked like a wrestling tournament. He was wearing a spandex navy-blue singlet with "GEORGETOWN" stretched in bold black letters across the chest. A gold medal gleaned from around his neck.

Ariel blinked.

He looked strong. Attractive. Quietly confident. Like winning was easy and just part of his plan. Her stomach did a little flip, something between curiosity and nerves. She tilted the phone slightly, using her acrylic nails to zoom in without thinking. She magnified the easily visible dickprint of his wrestling uniform.

She typed in the instagram handle in the screenshot and scrolled through his public profile. She took a deep breath and responded, keeping her tone even and open.

She texted back. "Mmm, he can come and we'll see how we vibe."

Danny and her had previously talked about bringing in other people to their sexual dynamic before but hadn't acted on it yet. The sex was enjoyable enough by themselves.

As she set her phone down, she contemplated Danny's proposal.

If the vibe is there, I'll do it, if not, no way.

The night dragged on as her mother continued installing the faux braids, asking questions about life at school.

When her mom finished the braids, she leaned back and smiled. "You look just like me when I was your age."

Ariel smiled back. She wondered if her mother had ever fucked a white guy when she was her age. What about two white guys at the same time?

--

The day arrived. Ariel was a mixture of nervousness, guilt, and excitement. Inviting two white men into her home felt like betrayal to her upbringing. A betrayal to her culture. Come to think of it, besides the occasional mailman, she had never actually even seen a white person even attempt to approach her home before. She knew her parents didn't approve of dating or having sex outside her race, particularly with white people.

And she had listened to their words adamantly, until Danny came along. It didn't help that his white dick was so long and thick.

Ariel had already cleaned the house twice over. She dusted the mantle, fluffed every pillow, lit a lavender lemon candle in the foyer, not because Danny would care, but because it made her feel in control. The house was finally quiet.

She waited until the plane her parents were on was officially in the air before sending the text:

"They're gone."

Read.

Typing...

"We're on our way."

She stared at the message for a moment, her heart thudding like a second pulse behind her ribs. It was real now.

Ariel settled on a form fitting yellow sundress. Comfortable. Chill. She pulled her faux locs into a loose ponytail, letting a few tendrils fall strategically around her face and kept them in a white headwrap. She applied some mascara around her eyes. She caught her sun kissed reflection in the hallway mirror and paused. The dress hugged her curves and left little to the imagination. Her naturally sexy body turned her on. Her ass looked amazing. Her body was sexy. She didn't wear a bra and her nipples pointed out visibly. Her usual choice.

*Ding-dong*

The doorbell rang. She hesitated for just a second.

She knew this was wrong, so why did it feel so right?

She walked slowly to the door, her bare feet silent on the hardwood. She took a deep breath, then opened it.

There they were, standing on her front porch.

Danny was just like when she last saw him. Tall, lanky, and wiry. His man bun was on top of his head. His legs were still as muscular as they were the last time she saw him. He was wearing a Georgetown polo shirt. Graduate school of biomedical sciences was printed across the right breast.

She glanced beside him and saw Issac.

He was built like a compact machine--5'10", dark brown hair cut close to his head, a sharp jawline and piercing eyes. Same clean-cut, East Coast white boy grad school vibe as Danny. But where Danny's edges were relaxed, Issac's had a quiet intensity to them. Several inches shorter than Danny but way more muscular. His arms and pecs bulged out of a Luka Doncic Lakers jersey.

They walked in one after another, Issac carrying two bottles of wine in his large ape like hands.

Danny grinned when Ariel embraced him, an arms-over-the-neck, body-to-body hug. It had been weeks since she'd seen him. The warmth of his touch sent a familiar shiver down her spine. She put his head on his chest. Each of his hands cupped an ass cheek and his pelvis pressed against her lower stomach. Her ass was just as fat, firm, and plump as the last time he saw her. They embraced by her front door for what felt like minutes.

Next, she turned to Issac. They warmly exchanged introductions and pleasantries. He smiled. He was charming, confident. She firm wrapped her arms around him too, surprising even herself at how natural it felt. He was solid, warm, and appallingly muscular beneath the thin fabric of his NBA jersey. Pushing the physical touch barrier so soon, his hand rested way on the bottom of her lumbar spine, just millimeters above her protruding rotund glutes, the ones Danny had squeezed just moments earlier.

She gestured them into the living room.

The two white men looked around as Ariel gave them a quick tour.

It was practically a shrine to the movement. Framed photos of Angela Davis, Huey Newton, Malcolm X, Kwame Ture, Marcus Garvey, Nat Turner, and Jean-Jacques Dessalines lined the walls. Huey Newton sat in the iconic wicker chair holding a spear and rifle; in another, Dessalines stood tall, sword raised, leading his troops in the Haitian revolution. A marble statue of a black panther stood next to the TV. Beside the statue on the wall, Harriet Tubman's worn but defiant expression stared out from a faded print, her head wrapped in a patterned scarf. Together, they formed a wall of resistance and dignity.

A massive red, black, and green Pan-African flag was pinned to the wall behind a throne-like chair where her father always sat, a quiet reminder of solidarity and Black unity. Masks from the Benin empire and Ghana were hung on the walls around the room.

Above the mantel, a striking painting of Black American love took center stage, a regal Black man with deep brown skin and natural hair pressed his forehead tenderly to the temple of a dark-skinned woman with a halo of thick curls. The figures were semi-depictions of her parents, her father's strong jawline and broad nose, her mother's delicate cheekbones and soft curls. It was subtle, but unmistakable. Their love, Black love, was what stood as the foundation of this house.

Beside the painting sat her parents' wedding photo. Her dark skinned father stood tall in a cream-colored suit, a big broad muscular arm wrapped proudly around her mother's waist as she smiled in a white lace gown. Her mother was a spitting image of her, just several shades lighter. Adjacent to it were photos of the wedding party, all Black bridesmaids and groomsmen, each face radiating with joy.

The large black chair in the corner of the room next to two couches was sacred territory, Ariel's father's seat during family movie nights, Sunday after dinner debates, and impromptu history lessons. It was upholstered in black leather with wooden armrests carved into the shape of lion heads. He'd often sit there, one hand resting on the armrest and the other gesturing passionately as he spoke about the importance of Black unity. No one else ever sat there unless it was an invited guest.

The room breathed with history and purpose. Every object stood as a silent reminder of where they came from and what they were expected to carry forward. The weight of that legacy had shaped Ariel since birth. It was impossible to sit in that room without feeling the pulse of that inheritance.

"Make yourselves at home, let me go grab some wine glasses."

Issac and Danny's gazes followed Ariel's curvy backside as she walked into the kitchen. They exchanged glances. This was about to be a fun evening.

When she returned, she saw Issac sprawled comfortably in her father's chair.

Her chest tightened.

"Damn," Danny said, still looking around at the framed portraits and artifacts on the walls. "Your family's got good taste."

Ariel's eyes were stuck on Issac. "Please, do you mind sitting somewhere else?" Her face flashed a hint of uneasiness for a split second.

Issac had already spread his arms across the back of the chair's leather cushions. His long legs stretched out casually, one arm draped over the lion-head armrest. Danny dropped onto the long adjacent couch beside him, one of the wine bottles dangling loosely from his hand.

"You're seriously not going to let us sit?" Danny teased, his mouth curling into a smile she knew too well.

Oh, "It's not about you," Ariel said casually.

Danny raised an eyebrow. "Then come sit with us."

Her pulse quickened. Her mouth went dry. The sight of Issac on that throne chair and Danny even being here, beneath her father's heroes, felt dangerous. Framed photos of Malcolm X, Huey Newton, and Angela Davis stared down from the walls. The weight of history pressed down on her.

But that was why it excited her.

She crossed the room and sat on the couch with Danny so that she was in between Danny and Issac sitting on her father's chair.

Isaac passed her the bottle of wine, his fingers grazing hers just long enough to notice.

"Nice place." he said. His eyes were still roaming the room like he was trying to read her through her surroundings.

"Oh, this is just my parents' house." Ariel replied with a hint of guilt, taking a sip. The wine was dark and full-bodied, coating her tongue like velvet.

Her gaze flicked toward Danny, whose hand had found her thigh. A soft, familiar pressure. Her skin buzzed beneath it.

-

They drank wine and talked for hours, peeling back layers of themselves in careful turns. As the evening unfolded, Ariel and Issac grew more familiar with each other.

Issac had the polished confidence of someone used to being admired. A former Division I wrestler, he was now a recent graduate of the law school at Georgetown. He was also a skilled DJ and had bookings almost every weekend. He came from a wealthy conservative family and clearly carried traces of those values, though he presented himself as open-minded and inquisitive. He asked thoughtful questions about the artwork in Ariel's living room, and she responded with enthusiasm, walking him through the pieces as she gave a passionate lesson in Black history. He listened, intrigued.

He was charismatic in conversation. He was intelligent, articulate, and ambitious, every bit the image of a lawyer. But beneath the polish, Ariel noticed the most subtle hints of narcissism in their conversation, a calculated charm that bordered on Machiavellian. Still, she found him attractive and intriguing. When he asked about her hobbies, passions, her activism and campus work, he seemed genuinely interested, even if his beliefs were clearly leaning center-right.

Their conversation began as polite chatter, where they'd traveled, what books they were reading, how the wine tasted, then edged into friendly debates, the kind that made them lean in and laugh even when they disagreed, like K Dot vs. Drake and NBA teams. But soon, it caught fire, spilling over into fierce, flirt-laced arguments, travel ethics, the morality of drone strikes, reparations, cancel culture, gender roles in modern dating, whether billionaires should exist, the ethics of AI and surveillance, and defunding the police.

Ariel held strong leftist views, but Issac met her with calm, reasoned arguments from the other side of the spectrum. They agreed on some points, and agreed to disagree on others. Danny was a middle ground, who held viewpoints that were slight to moderate left of centre.

Ariel's voice sharpened as she leaned forward, her wine glass hovering midair. "America spends trillions on war but lets children die of asthma in the South Bronx." Her gaze locked onto Isaac's, daring him to meet her fire.

Issac didn't flinch. "It's not that simple," he said coolly. "You can't redistribute a pie that keeps shrinking. And some of these so-called solutions are just band-aids."

Ariel narrowed her eyes slightly, heart tapping faster in her chest.

"Okay, so the solution is what--capitalism with a conscience?" Danny chimed in.

"I'd settle for policies that don't prioritize money over environmental health" Ariel snapped, but a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. She felt a pulse of adrenaline in her chest.

Issac's calm demeanor only seemed to provoke her more. He wasn't passive, just... precise. His questions cut through her arguments like clean scalpel lines.

She found herself straightening in her seat, drawn in by the way he carried himself, by how unfazed he seemed.

Then his voice dropped, quieter. Intentional. "I've been wanting to ask, what's your take on interracial dating?" Issac's eyes were unreadable, but locked on hers.

Ariel blinked, surprised by the shift. Her back stiffened slightly before she leaned into the question, chin tilted. "Depends who's loving whom, and what kind of power dynamics are at play."

"I won't apologize for who I date," Danny said quickly, his shoulders shrugging as he leaned back. "It's my choice."

Ariel's lips curved upward into a smile.

"Sometimes attraction isn't political," Issac said evenly.

"Are you sure about that?" she shot back, her pulse kicking up. "Because you just politicized it."

There was a current between them--volatile, magnetic. Ariel didn't agree with half of what he said, but it was the way he said it. Calm. Unapologetic. Unshaken.

He challenged her, to sharpen her. To force her to think deeper, to stand firmer in her truth. And that made her pulse quicken. Somehow, maddeningly, that turned her on.

She took a slow sip of her drink, trying to cool the heat rising in her chest, but her eyes kept flicking between Issac and Danny. Every glance was a tug.

"So, feminism," Issac said, eyes still on Ariel. "Third wave, fourth? Or just burn it all down and rebuild?"

Feminism isn't a trend," Ariel said, voice tight. "It's survival. It's about dismantling the systems that keep women, especially Black women, at the bottom."

Issac nodded slowly. "Okay, I understand. But if we burn it all down, who builds what comes next? And who decides what's worth saving?"

Her brows lifted. She was lit up now, fully engaged, leaning closer. "People who've actually been hurt by the system," She said. "Not the ones profiting off it."

Danny cleared his throat and gave a small shrug. "Can't it be both though? Reform and revolution? Maybe it's not binary. Everything has nuance."

Issac's eyes lingered on Ariel a moment longer before shifting to Danny. "I respect nuance. But clarity gives it teeth."

There was a pause.

Despite their ideological differences, something about Issac's perspectives stirred something in Ariel. His confidence, his clarity, the way he challenged her. It all left her slightly and unexpectedly turned on.

Danny's hand lingered, his thumb tracing slow circles. Issac leaned in, his shoulder pressing into hers as they stole glances of each other when one looked away. The leather creaked beneath them, and somewhere above, Malcolm X's framed gaze seemed to sharpen.

Ariel took another sip of wine, pulse hammering beneath her skin.

She knew where this was going. And she didn't stop it.

--

It started with the board game.

Danny had grabbed Scrabble from the shelf--an old set with the letters worn down from years of use. Issac stayed on her father's throne chair and Danny and Ariel sat on the couch together. Issac poured more wine. Ariel snuggled next to Danny under a throw blanket on the couch.

The first game Ariel won by a few points. They continued drinking wine. The second game gradually became more filled with innuendos and suggestive words as the three became more inebriated. Ariel and the two men stole glances at each other, exchanged flirty responses, and continued to touch knees at times.

"P-A-N-T-H-E-R," Issac spelled.

"Too easy," Ariel teased, taking a big swallow of wine.

"L-I-B-E-R-A-L"

"C-O-O-L"

"R-E-A-L-I-T-Y"

Danny leaned over her shoulder, his breath warm against her neck. "Your turn," he murmured.

Ariel placed her tiles.

"P-L-E-A-S-U-R-E."

Danny brushed her breast with the back of his hand as he wrote down the score. "That's a good one."

Issac laughed. "Dirty mind."

Ariel's cheeks flushed, but her thighs clenched when Danny's hand slid higher.

"Your turn," she said to Issac.

Issac smirked, setting down his tiles.

"S-U-B-M-I-S-S-I-O-N."

Danny's hand squeezed her thigh.

Ariel's breath hitched. She wasn't even pretending to focus on the game anymore. The board was completely full of tiles and there were no possible moves left. Issac had won this game, Danny came in second, and she came in last this time. Issac's eyes slid toward her, then toward Danny.

Danny's gaze darkened.

"Show him," Danny said quietly.

Ariel looked blankly. "What?"

Danny's hand boldly slid under her shirt, grabbing her breast. "Show him how good you are."

She froze. Her heart hammered in her chest. "Here, in the living room?"

Danny leaned in, brushing his lips against her ear. "No one's home."

Her thighs squeezed together.

Issac was watching her now--curious, but not pushy. Just waiting.

Ariel's breath quickened. Her pulse raced. She grabbed the bottle and took a long swig of wine. She slid from sitting on the couch to a kneeling position on her knees.

She crawled toward Issac, kneeling between his legs. His pants began to bulge.

Danny leaned back against the couch, watching. His eyes gleamed.

Issac's mouth parted as Ariel unbuttoned his jeans. Her hands were steady, but her heart was racing. When she slid her hand inside, Issac smiled.

Got damn. Another white boy who is packing. She thought.

His aroused penis stood out, large and rigid. It was heavy. It was slightly less lengthy than Danny's but the girth was massive. Was it even his final form? Since Issac wasn't that tall, the ratio of his dick to body was kind of ridiculous. It was too much for one of Ariel's small hands to completely wrap around. Albeit, she hadn't seen that many dicks in her life. Just the guy in highschool who was her first, then Danny, and now Isaac. He was uncircumcised like Danny.

"Grab it firmly, from the base, like this." Issac warmly instructed her on his preferential hold.

Ariel readjusted her hand based on his instructions. She glanced back at Danny. His gaze was dark, possessive. "Good girl," he murmured.

The sound of it sent heat flooding through her. Her mouth watered and parted as Issac's hand brushed her jaw. She let him guide her forward.

Her lips parted wide. She wrapped her big lips around the head of his dick. She took him slowly, carefully. She tried to relax her jaw, he was so damn girthly, it wasn't an easy task.

Issac's hand firmly gripped the top of her headwrap. He applied gentle downward pressure to set the pace of Ariel's mouth movement. Danny sat back, watching, one hand resting on his thigh.

Ariel's eyes burned with tears as Issac slid deeper. He was filling her mouth. Her cheeks were flushed. Her breath came fast and shallow. He gently pushed her down further so she would deep throat him. Her nose pressed against his neatly trimmed pubic hairs. She coughed, but maintained his member deep throated. Mama didn't raise no quitter.

When she pulled back after a few minutes of servicing Issac, gasping, Danny stood tall over her.

What have I become?

Her thoughts circulated. Was Danny turning her out? She was basically sucking another guy's dick for him.

Her heartbeat fluttered. Danny repositioned his hand on the crown of her headwrap, and bobbed her head up and down on his friend's dick. As she became more comfortable with the new member in her mouth, Danny stepped away and sat back down on the couch to watch them again.

Her mouth and throat were more relaxed now. She adjusted to a comfortable pace and wet sucking sounds filled the room. She was horny now. Issac moaned, letting her know she was doing a wonderful job.

Her knees were burning against the rough carpet, but she didn't care. Four minutes pass.

"You're so good at this. I'm enjoying this so much." Issac encouraged her.

Danny stood again, undoing his belt. She raised her head up and wiped the saliva from her face. Issac's entire groin was wet. Saliva pooled down to his ass onto the leather seat of Ariel's father's throne chair.

Her parents' wedding photo sat on the mantle above them. All the members of the wedding party glared down at her, disapprovingly.

Ariel's heart was pounding. Her pulse roared in her ears. This was wrong. So wrong.

But it felt too good to stop. She relished in their praise. She stayed on her knees and turned around to maintain her kneeling position in front of Danny.

Danny pulled a partially erect dick out of his pants. Ariel's mouth parted. It had been so long since she saw it. Her mouth opened and she sucked him too. He pushed her head down to deep throat him to the base as blood elongated his erection. Her nose nestled in his pubes. He wanted to show off the obedience Ariel had for him in front of his friend.

"That's a good girl," Danny murmured.

Issac stood up from her father's throne chair and finished removing his pants. The two white men towered over on either side of Ariel as she knelt between them. Ariel kept her mouth and right hand on Danny's dick and then reached out with her left hand to jack off Issac's dick.

She continued to alternate sucking both of them for about 30 seconds at a time. Her jaw was working overtime. She just kept her mind on keeping her mouth relaxed.

Their dicks were hard, firm, and stretched her mouth. Sucking two big pricks at the same time wasn't as easy as it looked. It required a certain steeze of motor skill multitasking.

As she continued to suck them off, Issac and Danny progressively got rougher and rougher each time they switched who was in her mouth.

Eventually, she was no longer in control of which dick she alternated sucking. They were the ones who were in control of alternating her mouth now. Things gradually got more aggressive, wetter, and sloppier. Saliva dripped from her face and onto her yellow dress. Her nasal passages were wet and her mascara dripped down the sides of her sun kissed cheeks. She was just trying to keep up and not choke on either phallus.

Ariel thought momentarily about all the lectures she received in this very living room, about how her father's definition of Pro Blackness meant always standing for one's people, particularly Black men.

But now, she was on her knees for two white men. The two men were probably not for her people, but their dicks were standing erect for her.

Ariel was about to laugh at the irony but she forced it away. The cock carousel kept swinging and she was just trying to follow her breathing, keep her lips covering his teeth, and keep her mouth as open and relaxed as possible.

While she took a turn to suck Issac's dick again. Danny moved to pull up her sundress. Issac sat back down on her father's throne, he kept one hand on her head to control the blowjob while Ariel got on her hands and knees. She rested on all fours, her palms pressed firmly into the ground beneath her, shoulders stacked above her wrists, and knees aligned under her hips. Her spine stretched in a gentle line, dimmed in the lumbar spine. She extended her neck to look up at Issac to continue to suck his dick without her hands. Issac reached his other hand into the front of her dress to massage a small firm breast from the front as Danny sat on the floor behind Ariel. Ariel bobbed her head back and forth to continue to service Issac as Danny went to remove her black panties. She did a little kick of each leg to help him get them past her knees. Danny pressed his face in her ass and stuck his mouth on her vulva.

"Damn."

Her ass, body, and entire being were so beautiful, Danny thought.

Between her thighs, Ariel's feelings deepened. Blood rushed throughout her pelvis, making her clitoris and inner lips swell and tingle while Danny's mouth latched gently onto the surface area of her vulva. Wetness gathered gradually, her body preparing without her needing to think about it. Her nipples hardened, her back more little, and her breath came a little faster.

Danny inserted two fingers into her pussy while sucking her clitoris from behind. She was growing wetter now. Vaginal juices smeared over Danny's face.

Ariel reaches a hand back to press Danny's face deeper into her pelvic region. Her thighs tensed and her breath hitched. She gripped the carpet with her toes and remaining hand. Her back continued arching as a deep, throbbing release took over. Her body bucked with each contraction, a raw, involuntary response that left her gasping. The orgasm from Danny's tongue tore through her in short, clenching bursts, hips grinding for more as she moaned low in her throat. She momentarily brought her head up from Issac's dick so that she wouldn't bite down on his dick as she orgasmed.

Issac watched her unravel--hips lifting, muscles tightening, a moan slipping past her lips as the orgasm hit. Her face twisted with pleasure, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted. When the orgasm had passed, she went back to deepthroat Isaac with renewed enthusiasm.

This continued for ten minutes until Danny had enough. He removed the rest of his clothes and then lunged on one knee on the carpet. He inserted his dick into Ariel doggystyle while she continued sucking off Issac. She was tight! She hadn't had sex since the day she took her last final on campus. It was a good thing he ate her out first.

Danny pressed into Ariel slowly at first as she sucked his friend's dick. She moaned with enthusiasm. After a few minutes, he gradually picked up the pace to fuck her faster. Both Ariel's and Danny's knees were pressing into the living room carpet.

As Danny increased his pace, it only made Ariel hornier. She began sucking off Issac more vigorously and wet sucking sounds once again filled the room.

Danny slapped her black ass twice on either cheek. With Ariel on her knees in front of him, it made her large round black ass cheeks look like two basketballs in front of him. Each pump in doggystyle caused jiggles and waves to resonate through her booty's large beautiful heart shape. As he picked up the pace, Ariel's black ass clapped together with each subsequent thrust from Danny's long white dick. Ariel's moans and grunts from the two men filled the room.

In front of Ariel, Issac's balls were now slapping against her chin as her large lips went up and down on his cock. Each time, the suction of Issac's dick being released then swallowed back up from Ariel's wet mouth created a wet popping noise. The wet squelching of Ariel's black and pink pussy created another syncopated sound. Her booty clapping against Danny as he pounded her from behind completed the trio's orchestra of sex sounds.

Issac reached down to tilt Ariel's chin up to create eye contact as she sucked his dick.

"Are you giving a round of applause for us?" Issac asked, gleefully poking fun at the clapping sounds the three were making together.

"Oh my goodness, look at all that movement back there." Danny said, referring to her ass quaking and rippling with each penetration. "You've clearly got a bright future behind you."

Ariel soaked in their praise.

Danny reached over Ariel for Issac's hand and they high fived several times, following the same rhythm as Ariel's wet pussy and booty clapping sound reverberating from Danny's thrusting. It was at that moment she remembered this was called an eiffel tower.

Ariel choked back drunken laughter, Issac's wide dick still taking up all of the available real estate in her mouth.

Ariel had been sucking dick for about twenty minutes at this point and her jaw was tired. She looked up at Isaac and told him she needed a break. Danny stood up and everyone caught their breath. Danny and Issac helped Ariel remove the rest of her dress.

Issac stood up and gestured to her to lay down on the couch on her back. Issac mounted her and rubbed the wide pink head of dick against her clitoris. Danny took another swig of the wine as he watched. So far, she had only sucked Issac's dick. This was another level of physical intimacy with Issac now.

She gasped when Issac finally entered her. He was so girthy! She thought. He slid back and forth inside her slowly as they got used to how their bodies fit together. She was already plenty wet from Danny fucking her doggy style on the floor.

The two men began alternating to fuck Ariel every 3-4 minutes or so. The one who was waiting would jack his dick off. Both men turned it into a game to see who could fuck Ariel better, her moans and screams became the measuring stick for the sexual effectiveness of their pink sticks. Each time, the guy that was resting would get a competitive urge to fuck Ariel better, creating a cycle of renewed sexual intensity for Ariel. They still showed restraint and gentleness, but it so slowly diminished each time they switched with her.

On the long couch, Ariel was put in missionary, then prone bone, back to missionary, then prone bone again. They both took turns thrusting inside of her. Over, and over, and over, and over again. By the fifth time the two men switched, Ariel's moans had turned to half moan half whimpers. Danny glanced back at Ariel and saw tears were running from her eyes. Her mascara was completely reduced to long black marks now.

While Issac continued to fuck Ariel, Danny checked on her.

"Are you okay, babe? Should we stop?"

"I'm fine. It's.. It's just... overwhelming. Please... don't stop." She responded with enthusiasm, warm salty tears still running down her face. The contrast of being fucked by the two men back to back actually felt amazing to her.

Through her tears and moans, Ariel smiled radiantly. She was letting go. Why did she enjoy it so much? It was like she finally set down what she was carrying for 21 years-- no, possibly 400 years. She felt liberated, free, and at ease to feel all the sexual inclinations she wanted to feel.

She finally understood it. Growing up in a home where afrocentrism and racial pride weren't just values but expectations, Ariel had carried the weight of it all without realizing it. Her father was the head of the household. He was dominant, protective, and unwavering in his belief that Blackness should be preserved and protected from external influence, particularly from white men.

That kind of thinking shaped everything for her. Racial identity and loyalty to her father's values became the foundation of who she thought she was supposed to be. But it was isolating. Always having to conform, to live up to someone else's idea of what it meant to be "right". Her father's version of Pro-Blackness wasn't about equity, it didn't take Black women into account--it was just Black patriarchy trying to replace a system of white patriarchy.

Psychologically, that kind of pressure from her father had generated an intense, subconscious desire to rebel. The more rigid the boundaries, the more erotic and freeing it was to cross them.

Now, she was taking control. She was choosing what to do and whom to be with. The intensity of the power dynamics, the unspoken weight of her father's authority, the racial and political meaning wrapped up in Danny and Isaac, and her own sense of agency--it was all overwhelming. It hit her in a wave she couldn't hold back. And when it finally broke, it came out in tears.

In the corner of her eye, the black, red, and green Pan African flag wavered softly in the evening breeze from the window. Fucking and sucking on these two men at the same time had become an act of surrender for her. She was able to give up control to two men who embodied the historical, racial, economical, and political dominance that her father stood against. These thoughts alone prompted more vaginal contractions, leading to another orgasm to ripple throughout her body.

As she submitted to the two white men taking turns with her body, she felt power in that she could voluntarily stop it from happening at any time.

It was a symbolic violation of everything her father represents. She was crying tears of ecstasy and relief.

Danny was fucking Ariel again now. Even though she reassured him she was fine, he was a little concerned about her and was pistoning in and out of her more gently. Some minutes passed and Issac tapped back in missionary. He dug his trimly cut nails into her spine and bit her neck, hard.

As Issac began to pump himself into her, her toes curled and she pulled him closer to her.

Danny had already confided in Issac about how his sex with Ariel often included raceplay. Issac had planned to make full use of that once he assessed Ariel was more comfortable with him.

By this time, the initial ice that exists when meeting someone new for the first time had obviously been broken. They met four hours ago or so, she sucked his dick for over twenty minutes, and now he had been fucking her alongside Danny going on half an hour. Issac saw this as the moment.

He put a large hand around her throat and looked in her eyes.

"Do you consent to raceplay with me?" He asked, lowly but direct.

"Yes... I consent." She whimpered back, smiling, enjoying the pressure around her throat.

Issac snatched off her headwrap. He grabbed her by her faux locs and pulled her off the couch. He dragged her by her hair to the part of the living room where the large Pan African flag took up most of the wall.

He placed his large, ape-like hands on her lower back, guiding her into a bent-over position. To help her maintain an arched spine, he positioned one of her hands on the floor and the other on the Pan-African flag for balance. He inserted his wide phallus inside her from behind and began to fuck her again. There was a roughness to his movements now. The gentleness and restraint he showed earlier were gone. Tears poured again from Ariel's eyes. Sweated beaded at Isaac's temples. He progressed to fuck her so hard it made Danny jealous.

Her firm and fat ass continued to gyrate and earthquake ripple with each thrust of Isaac's wide phallus. Ariel's toes curled against the carpet. Her vaginal muscles clenched around Isaac's phallus. Another orgasm. Issac continued thrusting. There wasn't anything gentle about him now.

She was screaming obscenities now as tears continued to stream from her ears.

"You better fuck this black pussy."

"Give me that thick ass white dick!"

"Claim it!"

Danny went around them to close the windows, no need for her neighbors to report their little gathering to her parents. Witnessing the escalating aggression and Ariel's reactions was arousing Danny more. He went to the front of Ariel and stuck his dick back in her mouth.

"It's time for those big Black lips to suck my dick again, you slut." Danny commanded. The energy in the room had increased in its intensity.

She wouldn't be fellating him this time, he was full on face fucking her in a frenzy now. Issac continued to take her to pound town from behind. Issac pulled her hair by the back while Danny held her head by the sides as he fucked her face. There was nothing for her to do except take it. On one end, her pussy was wet, dripping onto Issac's dick. On the other end, Danny continued to ram his saliva coated dick into Ariel's open mouth. Spit dripped down her chin onto the carpet. Ariel continued to brace herself on the flag pinned to the wall to maintain balance as the two friends fucked her from either side.

The way the two white men spitroasted Ariel on a PanAfrican flag was socially and morally unacceptable. So why did it drive her so crazy? The effect of Ariel being raised by a domineering Black father combined with the systemic white egocentric societal engineering racism of the U. S. had heavily impacted her unconscious sexual arousal.

Her vaginal muscles built up more rapid contractions - another orgasm rippled through her loins. A thought entered her mind. Wait. Being fucked on the Pan African flag by two white men- Wasn't this disrespectful to her ancestors? The same ones whose portraits filled the walls of the house.

Ariel pondered. She rationalized. The difference between her ancestors and her was this submission was intentional and consensual, unlike the historical subjugation which was forced. She had a raceplay kink. It was all psychological subversion at the end of the day. Any passing shame she felt from this taboo act was greatly overshadowed by her own sexual arousal. At least while she was doing it.

A dirty thought entered her mind. Maybe the ancestors of Danny and Issac had exploited her ancestors in Ghana, and now their descendants were exploiting her in her home, all while her parents were back in Ghana.

She heard Issac's deep voice in her ear.

"Say: "I'm Black and I'm proud.""

"Ahm bwack mm' ahm pwowd!" she whimpered loudly, struggling to enunciate each syllable fully with Danny's long dick still pistoning up and down her throat. More saliva poured out her mouth from the attempt.

Issac and Danny facetiously raised their fists in the air. Isaac steadied Ariel by holding her upright at the hips, allowing her to keep one hand on the Pan-African flag hanging on the wall for support. With his free hand, he took the wrist she had been using to balance on the floor and guided it upward, encouraging her to raise her fist. The three of them then bumped fists together.

Issac cackled, Ariel giggled with a mouth full of Danny's dick, and Danny laughed.

For the next half hour, Issac continued to fuck Ariel roughly all over her parent's furniture, photos, portraits, decorations, and African diasporic cultural memorabilia. Each piece of furniture and house decoration were symbols of her father's influence and the cultural pride instilled in her since childhood. Defiling these sacred symbols with the help of two white men, especially a more conservative one, represented the ultimate act of rebellion for her. To Ariel, she was asserting control over her own sexual and personal identity, it gave her power, even while physically being in the submissive role. This allowed Ariel to escape both for the overbearing nature of her relationship with her father along with the mental burden of control and responsibility by tapping more into the forbidden nature of racial domination and sexual submission.

Danny continued to fuck Ariel roughly too, but wasn't quite as rough and he even moderated Issac's physicality at times to ensure Ariel's boundaries were respected and that the roughness of the sex never became painful for her.

While Issac was initially charming and seductive, the way he fucked her now was as if hes despised her. He fucked her like she was less than him and he had autonomy for both of them. It was freeing... but dangerous.

While Danny's dominance existed only to give Ariel power in submission, Issac was domineering and pushed the Ménage à trois to a more intense kink. It began to cross over into humiliation. Psychologically and sexually, this brought the experience to another level of intensity for Ariel.

And yet, there was something intoxicating about that contrast. Danny made her feel seen. Isaac made her feel wanted. One disarmed her. The other lit her fuse. In a strange way, this dynamic reminded Ariel of some of her two favorite Black male revolutionaries, Malcolm X and Martin Luther King Jr.

Though different in their approaches, both men were essential to one another.

MLK advocated for reconciliation and collaboration between races, believed in equality and inclusion for all, and supported full integration through nonviolence and unity. In contrast, X emphasized ethnic and racial pride, independence, and self-determination, particularly in response to systemic oppression.

X was seen as a threatening radical by white America. His rhetoric and presence disrupted white comfort zones, forcing confrontation with uncomfortable truths. In contrast, white America chose to posthumously glorify MLK, not out of love for him, but because he represented a peaceful, more palatable alternative. X's militant stance, especially in his early years, made MLK's nonviolent approach appear moderate, less confrontational, and thus easier to embrace. In many ways, MLK's message was framed as the more "acceptable" or "digestible" path to civil rights with a conscience for all humans including the perspective of the oppressor, a perception that led to his posthumous canonization as an American hero over X.

Just like X and MLK, Danny and Isaac were just two sides of the same coin.

They both benefited from white privilege, the quiet advantages that greased the wheels of everyday life, that let them speak louder, be heard sooner, walk away cleaner, and commit offenses with less consequences. But there was a difference between them. Danny questioned his place in the world, sometimes to the point of guilt, and he wanted the world to be a more equal and equitable place. There was sincerity in the way in how he moved through Black spaces with humility rather than performance. Like MLK, Danny wanted equality, dare she say... equity? Like MLK, Danny cared for the well being of all ethnic groups regardless of their socioeconomic hierarchy in relation to his own. For Ariel, Danny was protective, understanding, and safe. Danny knew he had white privilege. He'd lean into it and played with the idea of race, but it was all consensual kink to him. It ended there. Danny represented a symbolic colonizer with a conscience--he played the role but didn't internalize it. It also made Danny essential in their threesome dynamic, not just as a sexual partner, but as an emotional buffer that kept the fantasy, a fantasy.

Issac, on the other hand, was not as interested in humility once he became more comfortable with Ariel. This was pretty evident from their earlier debates before scrabble evolved into sexcapades. He didn't just benefit from white privilege, he leaned into it, used it like armor and currency. He reveled in being the charismatic one, the "alpha" in every room, the one who could dip into other cultures for flavor and thrill without consequences. Like X, Issac was dangerous, edgy, and full of raw, unfiltered unapologetic energy. It made Ariel feel something deep in her gut. To him, whiteness wasn't a system to challenge. It was a tool, a birthright he knew how to wield. Ariel saw it in the way he navigated their conversations earlier, in the way he auraed pride in his own culture and self determination just like the late great Malcolm X -- and in the way he fucked her with an aura of entitlement, like it was his right, all within hours of meeting her for the first time.

Issac's conservative views and ethnocentric implicit biases bled into real life, which gave Ariel's submission a darker, more transgressive edge. It was only his first time meeting her and fucking her, but he embodied their raceplay with unsettling authenticity. That difference made Issac thrilling, but also dangerous.

This dynamic echoed a familiar psychological phenomenon found in some open relationships, when women consent to getting trains run on them or gang banged. Often, these women only feel safe enough to go through these types of encounters if their husband or a trusted male friend is present. That trusted figure becomes the protector, ensuring the woman's enjoyment and emotional well-being are prioritized, even as she explores total submission. In this specific case, Ariel definitely needed that guardrail from Danny. She could only give herself up to Issac so quickly and intensely like this since Danny was there, making sure nothing went too far.

The psychology of surrender wrapped in trust.

There was something about that, about the two men balancing each other out, that allowed Ariel to dip into her darkest fantasies without being consumed by them. Because deep down, at least for the moment, Ariel didn't want acceptable or digestible sex anymore, she wanted to be whored out by a particular demographic and she was able to do it in a safe space with the help of Danny and Issac.

Currently, Ariel was lying on one side on the floor, her body pressed up against the marble statue of a Black Panther. Danny was straddled in between her legs, pumping his long white dick back and forth between her dark pink pussy. Her fat Black ass looked so sexy in this position. Danny opened his large hands and gave her three spanks. More waves of jiggles radiated out her plump ebony derriere each time his hand connected.

Her skin stung and she cried out. Normally, those slaps would hurt, but because of her sexual arousal the stinging sensation just magnified her pleasure. Her brain overflowed with dopamine.

Issac was kneeling infront of her face, but he wasn't face fucking her this time. Instead, he was rubbing his thick semi erect prick over her face while his scrotum plopped on her eyelids. Ariel inhaled, his genitals smelled and tasted exactly like her pussy, of which he had been pounding on and off with Danny for the last hour.

"How do you like our system of keeping you at the bottom?"

Ariel's lips curved into a smile as she let out a giggle, realizing Issac was alluding to their earlier conversation on feminism.

After close to an hour of fucking and sucking, Issac finally came in Ariel's mouth. She swallowed half of it, and let the rest run down her breasts. His semen was thick and plenty, but didn't really have a taste, it seemed like he ate a very healthy diet.

Danny came a few minutes later, pulling out of doggystyle and spraying his semen onto her back. This was the longest duration they had ever had sex. He had intentionally not spent his load before Issac, it was still a sort of machismo competition for him. His load was so large from holding it for so long, it sprayed behind Ariel, hitting her father's large chair, the Pan African Flag, and some small splatters on the statue of the black panther.

Danny and Ariel both sat down to catch their breath. Issac had already recovered his breath, he was sitting on the floor drinking another glass. Ariel looked in the large mantle mirror. Her body told the story of the evening in bruises and marks. Bite prints bloomed across her neck and shoulders. Scratch marks clawed down her back, still red and tender. Dried white streaks of semen traced from her chin to the soft dip of her collarbone, and another path followed the curve of her spine. Her headwrap was nowhere to be found, her sundress either. All that remained was her brown skin, sweat from three people, and a body buzzing with the memory of touch.

Her faux locs, just two days old, were in disarray. Her mother had spent the better part of an evening meticulously parting, twisting, securing each strand with love and patience. The same evening this threesome was first conceptualized. But Ariel wasn't thinking about her ruined hair now. She couldn't. Her mind was a haze of feel-good chemicals, dopamine, serotonin, norepinephrine, all swirling together in a cocktail of euphoria. Her limbs were heavy, her chest light, her face slack with the kind of peace that only comes after complete surrender.

The room was a mess too, couch cushions were flung across the floor, some stacked haphazardly against the coffee table, others crumpled where someone had gripped them tight, then let go. A throw blanket was twisted up in a knot on the armrest. A half-empty wine glass sat tipped over on the rug, its contents forming a dark, lazy stain that no one had noticed or cared about at the time. The air still smelled like sweat, sex, and incense.

The chaos of the living room mirrored her body--unmade, used, and spent.

--

Later, Ariel lay sprawled across the couch. Her head rested on Danny's thigh. Issac sat on the floor, finishing the last of the wine.

The Scrabble board was still on the floor.

Danny's hand brushed her hair.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

Ariel smiled, eyes half-lidded. "Yeah."

Issac glanced toward the wall. "Think Malcolm X would approve?"

Ariel's smile sharpened.

"No," she said. "But Angela and Frederick might."

Danny's hand brushed her jaw, tilting her head toward him.

Both sets of Ariel's cheeks burned. Her body was still humming. Her thighs were sore from being fucked so much. It felt like she just finished the first week of collegiate volleyball strength and conditioning training. Except this conditioning was by two white men. She curled into Danny's side, letting his hand slide down her back to her large round ass cheeks.

They all fell asleep.

________

Author's note: If you've read this far, thank you. I appreciate all the feedback too. If you have suggestions on ideas for future installments, let me know and I just may incorporate it. I look forward to every comment.