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Black Power Couples

By: Samuelx



The name is Wilson Fulton. A lot has happened in my world recently. It's amazing how you can be on top of the world one minute and then crumble the next. Such is my reality. I'm an attorney with Fulton & Hanover, one of the top law firms in New England. It's black-owned, started by two African-American lawyers named Shawn Fulton and James Hanover back in 1977. Thirty two years later, the firm employs three hundred and forty lawyers and has offices in Boston, Massachusetts, and Manhattan, New York. 

I felt proud the day I was hired, right out of law school. My father, Leonard Fulton, is a legendary attorney and the younger brother of the firm's owner, Shawn Fulton. Today, my uncle has terminated my employment. I'm twenty eight years old, and I'm an unemployed African-American attorney during the worst recession to hit America since the 1920s. It's not a situation anyone would envy. Seriously. I'm not sure what to do.

I head home. Just another brother in a suit riding the Red Line train from downtown Boston to Ashmont. I get off at Ashmont, and take the Bat Bus to Brockton. I've been doing this for a week now. My car got totaled thanks to some drunk driver, an Irish soccer mom, who rammed into me. I survived, she didn't. I feel no sympathy for drunk drivers, whether they're male or female, black or white. Idiocy isn't racially or gender biased in my book. I've defended enough morons to know this for a fact.

I sit in my living, trying not to think about tomorrow. I live in a nice house on Ash Street, somewhere on Brockton's West Side. I bought the house for one hundred and forty grand a couple of years ago. My bonus for winning a really big case. Millionaire Janet Richardson was accused of murdering her ex-husband Larry and his girlfriend Marianne Hawks. I got her acquitted. It was my first big case and I won. How about that? The fact that my wealthy white female client was guilty as sin didn't bother me one bit. I only cared about making the big bucks. Some attorneys will lie to you and tell you they care about the truth. I don't bother. All I care about is winning and getting my money.

Which brings me to my next point. I became a lawyer because I wanted to make money. My father and uncle were both lawyers, as were most of their friends. My mother, Elisabeth Stewart Fulton was a lawyer back in the day. She now teaches Criminal Justice to young women at Pine Manor College. I wonder how she's going to react when she hears that my uncle fired me. She probably won't be surprised. My uncle is one of the smartest men I know. He's also a complete psychopath. Yep, the man has no conscience whatsoever. Most people find him charming. I think he's a snake. I've met many men and women like him over the years. You'd be surprised at the number of psychopaths in the American criminal justice system. And most of them are lawyers and judges. Only a small number of psychopaths are in prison, believe it or not.

I sip on a glass of red wine while watching an old episode of Coach on cable. I loved that sturdy sitcom. Back in those days, manly guys appeared on television. Today, the only manly guys on TV are Axe Men and Ice Road Truckers, along with the NBA and NFL. Today's sitcoms and television commercials have gelded the American male psyche. It's a sad thing to behold. That's why I am very particular about what I watch. Something catches my attention. A flash of red. I pick up a picture from the living room table. It's an old picture of my ex, Martina Brown. 

Back in the day, Martina Brown and I were an item. I remember those days fondly. I was on my second year at Suffolk University Law School. A six-foot-one, lean young black man with a dopey smile. That's who I was back in the day. The wide-eyed aspiring attorney who wanted to use the law to fight against prejudice and discrimination. I wanted to right social wrongs. I wanted to fight against the racism and sexism that fill the American criminal justice system. I wanted to end bias in the system, or at least put it on trial. Yeah, I wanted to do great things. 

Along came what I thought was the gal of my dreams. Martina Brown. Five foot eleven inches tall, curvy, with dark brown skin, almond-shaped gray eyes and long black hair. She was a student at Wellesley College whose brother, Jonah, was one of my classmates. She brought him a birthday gift while he and I were studying on the campus library. That's how we met. You should have seen her, folks. She was really something. A beautiful young black woman whose intelligence, charm and wit seemed to radiate everywhere she went. Martina Brown and her brother Jonah were the offspring of Theodore Brown, the famous African-American congressman who put the Boston Police Department on notice during the 1990s for their racial profiling tactics.

Martina Brown was beautiful, smart, and wealthy. She was also the daughter of a man I considered my own personal hero. How could I not fall in love with her? We became friends, and eventually started dating. I was in love with her. I introduced her to my family, and even my stern father had to admit we were a good match. Martina's father and brother were friendly to me too, which surprised me. Usually, when you're dating a woman, her father and brother are the people you must fear the most. They normally can't stand any guy who wants to date one of the women in their families. 

Everything was going well. Ours was a passionate relationship. I remember one particularly steamy lovemaking session we shared in a restaurant bathroom. And we had guests with us too! Martina told me they could wait. Yeah, my lady and I had it going on. We liked to keep things fresh between us. Martina was really aggressive. She kissed me passionately, and basically shoved me against the bathroom wall before we began to do our thing. I had never seen a woman who wanted it this badly. I mean, I like a passionate woman but Martina was borderline insatiable!

She unzipped my pants, and took my member in her hands. Martina looked into my eyes as she stroked my manhood. My eight inches of long and thick, uncircumcised rod of power. Gently, she eased it into her mouth and began sucking on it. I watched, amazed as she went down on me. She'd only done it once or twice and assured me it wasn't her thing. So I was quite pleased that she seemed eager to slob the knob that day. She sucked my dick and licked my balls as if she were on a race. Worked me over damn well, until I was just about ready to burst. And when I came, my sweet lady drank my masculine seed. I screamed in pleasure as she flicked her tongue over my sensitive rod. Wow. I hadn't known she could do that. Martina smiled, and told me I hadn't seen anything yet.

And truly speaking, I hadn't. We went around the world in half an hour, folks. Soon I had her on all fours and was pumping my cock into her pussy. I fucked her hard, just the way I knew she liked it. A lot of ladies like the tender lovemaking thing. Not Martina. She liked to get fucked hard. So I gave her what I knew she wanted. She got really wild, and even asked me to take her in the ass. I was surprised, but went for it. She produced a can of hand lotion from her purse and we used it as lube for my cock and her ass. Then I placed my cock against her backdoor and pushed it inside gently. I had never fucked anyone in the ass before and it was an experience to remember. Martina's ass gripped my dick like a vise. I placed my hands on her hips and pumped my dick up her butt. Martina squealed, and told me to fuck her harder. I gave her everything I had. All eight inches. And she took it all. As it turns out, I was the anal virgin, not her. We had a lot of fun that night. I wonder what stories our guests told their friends when the evening ended. Honestly, I didn't care. If more people had spontaneous sex, the world would be a better place.

I loved my lady and I thought we were going to be together forever. After graduating from Suffolk University Law School, I asked Martina to marry me. In front of the entire graduating class, of which I was valedictorian. She turned me down. To say I was crushed would have been the understatement of the century. Nothing can prepare a man for having his marriage proposal turned down. Nothing. I was humiliated, in front of my school, my classmates, my family and my friends. I was almost catatonic for the next three days.

Eventually, I moved on. I was determined to become the best lawyer I could be. I passed the bar exam with flying colors, and started working for the family firm. I met some interesting women. I dated an endless variety of them. After the fiasco with Martina, I decided not to limit myself by dating only within the race. I dated some Hispanic women, a few Asian chicks, and even an Arab woman or two. I found the white chicks in Boston to be too fake for my taste but I did have a lot of fun with a biracial woman in Cape Cod once. Just a matter of preference, that's all. I'm a young man with time, energy and money. Got to sow these wild oats sometimes. In time, I came to look at Martina's turning down my marriage proposal as a blessing. Most married guys I know dreaded coming home because their wives were real domestic tyrants. And as an attorney, I've seen enough divorce cases to feel disgusted by the institution of marriage altogether. No thank you.

Yeah, looking at Martina Brown's picture sure brought back some memories. However, I got better things to do. I'm an unemployed lawyer. My bills aren't going to pay themselves. I've got thirty grand saved up. I don't have a mortgage since I paid for my house in full but I have a lot of other things to take care of. I'm one of the biggest donors to the local YMCA and NAACP. I have a reputation to maintain. I need to find some work and quick. If not, I just might take a certain buddy of mine on his offer to join his dinky little law firm. Hey, anything is better than nothing. We're in a recession, after all. 

Black Power Couples in America



My name is Byron Blanc. I'm a five-foot-eleven, lean and fit young man of Haitian-American descent. I live in the city of Brockton, Massachusetts, but I was born and raised in the town of Atlanta, Georgia. I'm twenty seven years old and hold a Master's degree in Criminal Justice from Georgia State University. I used to be a cop in Atlanta for three years before coming to Massachusetts. By day, I work as a State Police Patrol Supervisor in the city of Brockton. These days, my life is wickedly interesting. Seriously. I'm going to tell you all about it. Because this is one for the ages. 

Why did I leave Atlanta? Folks, I made some mistakes. I was going out with this tall, fine-looking sister named Monique Farrell, daughter of one of Atlanta's most powerful African-American businessmen. She was a student at Spelman College and we met on campus while she was visiting a friend at Georgia State University. I fell in love with her. We dated, but it wasn't meant to be. Monique is a true BAP. Black American Princess. We came from two very different social classes. I was the only son of hard-working Haitian-American parents. My father Lucas is a lawyer who now teaches Criminal Justice at Morehouse College. My mother Elise is a police officer. We do alright for ourselves and we do own our own home in a nice neighborhood. Yet this wasn't good enough for Monique Farrell and her multi-millionaire father Leroy. There are a lot of rich Black people in Atlanta. Too bad most of them are stuck-up. When her father disapproved of me, Monique dumped me.

That's the main reason why I left my native Atlanta. Leroy Farrell was a powerful man and he had connections. He basically used his friends in Atlanta's law enforcement community to force me out of my job. All because I dared to date his daughter Monique and stand on equal ground with him and his rich Black buddies.  My law enforcement personnel files say that I quit working for the Atlanta Police Department for personal reasons. The truth is that I opted to quit one day before they would have fired me. My way of saving face. After this disastrous affair ended, I suddenly couldn't stand Atlanta. The African-American Chief of Police was a woman I respected and admired. Yet she and my precinct captain sold me simply because a rich man asked them to. Loyalty doesn't exist enforcement. Money talks, end of story. Thus, I said goodbye to my parents and sought to make a fresh start elsewhere. I moved to Brockton, Massachusetts. And from that moment on, my life would never be the same.

I was working out at Work Out World in the city of Brockton last week when I caught this woman looking at me. A six-foot-three, heavily muscled and deliciously big-bottomed, fit-looking Black woman named Athena Wilson.  She looked like a Black Amazon, or a Black Goddess come to life, folks. I've never met anyone like that. I caught her looking at me and I guess I was flattered.  I'm an okay-looking guy but chicks aren't exactly banging on my door. So when this gorgeous, towering beauty checked me out, I was flattered. What stunned me even more is that she approached me and introduced herself.  She said she was an admirer of mine.

I looked at her, surprised. Why did she admire me for? Athena told me of how she lived not far from the Pleasant Street neighborhood of Brockton and she was there when a racist killer went on a rampage before being caught by the local police. I was one of the officers who assisted in the apprehension of this madman. That was many months ago, though. Why did she admire me? I mean, I was just doing my job. And I wasn't the only cop who took this bastard down. Athena told me she thought I was a hero. She watched the whole thing from her house. Wow. I smiled at her and told her I was just doing my job. Athena insisted on thanking me. Like many people living in Brockton, Athena thought the local policemen and policewomen were a bunch of racist tyrants who used their power to dominate the local population. They didn't try to help people. That's why whenever a person of color was the victim of a crime in Brockton, the case often went unsolved. 

We went out to dinner, and I listened to Athena talk. To my great surprise, I agreed with a lot of what she had to say. The men and women of the Brockton Community Police Department weren't exactly friendly. I'm a Massachusetts  State Trooper and they're not friendly to me. I could only imagine how they treated civilians. Interestingly, Brockton was the site of a hate crime recently. A racist white guy went on a rampage and killed several people. I was there when he was arrested. However, the local police acted as if it were no big deal. The Brockton Police Department was full of racists indeed. Brockton is a city where fifty two percent of the population is made up of people who are so-called ethnic minorities. Blacks, Asians, Hispanics and Cape Verdeans. White people are now the true minorities in Brockton. Yet they seem to control most of the positions of power. The Mayor of Brockton is a white guy who doesn't know the first thing about running a big city. That's why the libraries, schools and small businesses are crumbling and he's just twiddling his thumbs. Dumb bastard.

The current Mayor of Brockton was opposed by a talented and educated young Black man in his last bid for reelection. The city of Brockton chose a dumb white guy over a smart young Black man in their choice of city leader. The young Black man in question happened to be openly gay, and that's part of what sank his chances. It's so sad that racism and homophobia still prevail in today's world. If you ask me, the men and women of Brockton have no right to complain about their mayor's inaction as their city's economy crumbled and their institutions turned to dust.. They chose him because he was one of the Old Guard. The Old Guard is the club of rich old white men who want to rule the United States of America forever. Lately, they've been letting young white women into the club but they're not letting Black people and other minorities in. Brockton chose a moron to be their leader. They didn't choose him for his intelligence because he didn't change anything.. He never got any work done. Just another lazy bastard who got by because he's a member of the Old Boy Network.

All this filled me with anger as I talked to Athena. Man, I didn't even know this woman and she was making me feel these things. I learned a bit about the lovely Athena Wilson. She used to play on the women's basketball team at Boston College. She recently earned herself a Master's degree in Business from the Carroll School of Management. Nowadays, she was working as an executive on State Street. She was the Junior Vice President of the Acquisitions Division of Blake Enterprises. Folks, I was impressed. This gal was making good money. I asked her why someone with her good looks, intelligence and money chose to live in Brockton. Athena narrowed her eyes. I gulped, realizing I said something wrong. Athena told me that was proud of her city. 

As I listened to her, I learned of the side of Brockton nobody talked about. Brockton wasn't a bad city. With a population of barely under one hundred thousand, it was one of the largest cities in Massachusetts. Right up there with established urban power centers like Boston and Plymouth. Brockton was also the most diverse town in Massachusetts. African-Americans, Hispanics, Haitians, Jamaicans, Asians and Cape Verdeans made up more than half of the town's population. Athena told me how proud she was when Brockton Community High School's first African-American principal took over. He was a wise and capable man who led the school through academic and athletic prosperity for many years before retiring. Now, some old white chick was running the place into the ground. 

Athena told me that even though she was making three hundred grand a year and could afford to live elsewhere, she refused to leave behind her hometown. Brockton was crumbling. Athena wanted to save it. She wanted the town's diverse ethnic groups along with the Black, Asian, Hispanic and Cape Verdean business owners to unite in bringing change to the city. Athena felt that Brockton would stand a better chance of recovering from the current Recession and the crime wave it created if the city of Brockton elected different people to be its Mayor and Chief of Police. The current Mayor of Brockton only cared about the well-being of white people and the current Chief of Police saw all ethnic minorities as potential criminals. Athena felt that Brockton would be better off if it elected a qualified person from one of the city's core groups ( African-Americans, Asians, Hispanics and Cape Verdeans ) to be its next Mayor. Someone who could empathize with the struggle of the people from the ethnic groups which made up the new face of Brockton. Not some elitist who would only look out for the men and women of the Old Guard.

Sitting across from Athena, I found myself in awe of this woman. It's not every day that you meet people like that. I didn't know it then but I was looking at my future wife. Athena was the kind of remarkable woman any man would be proud to have as a friend, lover or ally. Well, I was smitten with her. We began seeing each other. But mostly to plot. I introduced her to the few Black men and Black women enforcement that I knew. I liked her mindset. In this recession, Black people and other minorities are bearing the brunt of the fallout from the financial crisis while white men and white women are skating free. Minorities of all stripes, whether Black, Asian, Hispanic or Middle-Eastern needed to unite against discrimination and tyranny. In the world of tomorrow, minorities will become the majority. Today's congress has quite a few African-American, Asian and Hispanic members. Forty years ago, all members of congress where white. And the number of minority millionaires has risen steadily. We're on the edge of truly ruling the United States of America and fulfilling our ancestors dreams. We must not falter now.

Thus began our courtship. When Athena and I met, we talked and planned. We wanted a better world for the Black men and Black women of the future. A world where white cops wouldn't be around to harass the sons and daughters of Black families simply because they didn't like the color of their skin. A world more like the Black-run cities of Atlanta, Detroit, Brockton and the District of Columbia along with the minority-dominated states of Texas, California and Hawaii. That's the sort of world we envisioned for the next generation of Black men and Black women. We had to start building it now. The recession was disastrous but there is opportunity in disaster. Lots of Black families have taken advantage of the recession forcing people in the all-white town of Bridgewater, Massachusetts, to foreclose. And they've bought these houses and moved in. We're starting to give the imperialists a taste of their own medicine. 

Athena and I had a strong, passionate relationship. It wasn't all work and no play, folks. I remember one steamy lovemaking session we shared in her bedroom one Friday night. It was one for the ages. My favorite strong Black woman kissed every inch of my body before sucking my dick and licking my balls like there was no tomorrow. After she got me nice and hard, I put her on all fours and slid my cock into her pussy. Oh, man. Her pussy was burning hot. I've never fucked one like that before. I pumped it into her snatch for a few minutes before she volunteered her ass for some butt fucking. I was quite surprised, to say the least. I didn't think strong Black women like Athena took it up the ass but I wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. I took the lubricant she offered me and made good use of it. I placed my well-lubed cock against her asshole, and slowly pushed it inside.

Athena barely made a sound as I worked my long and thick Black cock into her butt hole. Now that's my kind of woman. I couldn't believe my luck. I was fucking a towering Black Amazon in the ass. Many men dream of such luck. Athena seemed determined to give herself to me completely. Her asshole was so tight and soft. It felt wonderful around my long and thick Black cock. She kept backing up her booty, grinding it against my groin. This had the effect of driving my cock deeper inside her asshole. I can count on one hand the number of Black ladies who've let me fuck them in the ass. Most of the time, Black women and anal sex don't mix. Black men know this intimately. White chicks and Hispanic broads seem to crave cocks up their butt holes but I'm not into them. I like my women tall, Black and big-bottomed, thank you very much.

As we did our thing, Athena urged me to fuck her harder. I was learning a lot about her in those passionate moments. Women seem to have multiple personalities, folks. And quite often their personalities don't go with their bodies. One of my town librarians, a middle-aged white broad named Laurie, is heavily into bondage. She's married and has a daughter in college. Not the kind of person you think of as a sexual freak. Yet that's what she is. One glance at Athena and I was kind of intimidated at the thought of going to bed with her. I imagined the towering Black Amazon would be quite dominant in bed and make me feel inadequate. Yet she was turning out to be quite pliant, bordering on the submissive. You just can never know about people, can you?

I continued to work my dick into the forbidden yet suddenly very accessible depths of Athena's asshole. She took my cock up her ass like a champ. Hardly a grunt from her. Not even when I started to get rough with her. I knew she'd like it. So I started spanking her big black ass while pumping my cock into her butt hole. Athena moaned softly, and begged me for more. I grabbed a handful of her long black hair and yanked her head back while slamming my cock into her asshole. That finally elicited a scream from her. Now that's what I like. I demand that my women scream in bed, especially when they're getting fucked in the ass by yours truly. Anal sex is a great experience which must be accompanied by the kind of melody only a screaming woman can provide. I not only expect it, I demand it. Ramming my dick deeper into Athena's asshole, I got many more screams out of her.

Afterwards, we lay on her bed, sweaty and sated. Athena was basking in the well-known post-sex afterglow that many women get after being sexed by me. What can I say? I'm a brother with skills. She had a big smile on her face. For the time being, she was silent. Then once more, we bantered and she started to plot again. Athena plans on convincing a well-known and respected person from one of Brockton's minority groups, which currently outnumbered whites, to run for Mayor. This person would have the support of a never-before-seen coalition of African-American, Asian and Hispanic voters. Residents of Brockton who wanted positive change in the city. The election of a minority person as Mayor of Brockton was only the first step in Athena's plan. She wanted this future Mayor to replace the current Chief of Police with a qualified African-American, Asian or Hispanic candidate. I looked at her and smiled. Beauty, brains, attitude and altitude. This gal had it all. How did I get so lucky? One thing for sure, she's not getting away from me. I'm seriously thinking about sticking with her and it's not just the sex talking. I'm attracted to power, and Athena radiates it.