Why I Love the Black Man

My friend asked me about my future today. What my plans were. Who I would marry. How things would work with me being a jetsetter. Somehow we started talking about what type of men I like and who I see myself with in the future. I told him that I had one problem:  that I love black men. He asked me what I like about black men. And then, my heart poured these words out.

Why I love the Black Man

I love the way he holds me...authoritative, showing ownership, yet so sweet and loving

I love the way his facial features are strong, yet so gentle and graceful

I love the way his cheekbones protrude from his African face, yet so softly

I love the way he palms my buttocks while holding me...rocking side to side...intense yet so tender

I love the way his hair rests on his head, black in sight, smooth to touch

I love the way his hair fades to the back of his neck, prickly yet made to caress

I love the way his hands glide over me...hands rough from hard work but never too rough to rub my soft skin

I love the way his dark full lips engolf my dark full lips...

I love the way we feed each other with our selves...

I love the way he supports, provides, gives and is the backbone...yet isnt afraid to lean on his woman or be in need of love, affection, advice, anything...

I love the way a black man loves me...with fear, with passion, with intensity, with need, with lust, with love, with with with with his all.

I love the way my black man loves me...

It took me less than 10 minutes to write all the things I appreciate about Black men. What do you appreciate about him?