Afrikaner Women Into Black Guys

Interracial relationships are still taboo in the Republic of South Africa, especially between White women and men of other colors but I honestly don't give a crap. I'm living my life and loving who I want, no matter whose pride it may hurt. My name is Lara Weidenreich and I'm a young woman living in the City of Johannesburg, in the Gauteng region of South Africa. Got one hell of a story to share with you today, folks.

I'm a nerd through and true, a numbers gal, and definitely not the romantic type. My parents Leonard and Mariam Weidenreich died in a plane accident when I was little and I was raised by my aunt Gertrude, who passed away last year. I'm only twenty years old and life has thrown much tragedy my way, not that I'm complaining or anything. I'm an Orthodox Jewish gal, we're supposed to be both smart and tough.

I'm tougher than I look, or so I've often been told. Five-foot-ten, decidedly on the voluptuous side, with reddish blonde hair, alabaster skin and green eyes, that's yours truly in a nutshell. I'm studying civil engineering at the University of Johannesburg, and much to my amazement, I've fallen in love with Amos Dikotsi, a handsome young Black man from the Kingdom of Lesotho.

I was born and raised in Gauteng, so let me tell you, even though South Africa calls itself a racially diverse and democratic country, a rainbow nation, it is anything but. The first time I went to the Sandton City Mall, the Republic of South Africa's richest square mile, with my boyfriend Amos Dikotsi, people definitely stared. Look, in this day and age, interracial couples aren't exactly rare in South Africa's largest metropolitan areas.

I've seen White men with Chinese women, White men with Indian women, White men with Black women, and at times, Chinese men and Black women. The Black male is always missing from the equation when it comes to interracial dating in the Republic of South Africa. Why is that? Even though South Africa has moved beyond the politics of Apartheid, certain things remain absolutely taboo. For a woman who isn't Black to be with a Black man, it's not exactly unheard of but it's still taboo.

Well, I crossed the racial line because of Amos Dikotsi, the handsome Black youth who changed my life. The day we met is one that I shall never forget. I was visiting the slums of Soweto, a world as different from the glittering towers of Johannesburg proper as night is from day. You see, I was still in the naïve, blissfully unaware ( or willfully so ) of many Europeans living in South Africa. I went to Soweto to help the poor people, like the benevolent White savior I once saw myself as. And I ended up with a knife against my throat in a dark alley one night.

A crazed old man, Zulu by the looks of him, had followed me and cornered me. I stood there, hapless. I mumbled, and offered him money, but that's not what he wanted. I saw lust and madness in his eyes, along with the promise of hell. Like so many women in South Africa, I feared rape, for we have the highest rape epidemic in the world, but I never thought it might happen to me. I am the daughter of Jewish German immigrants who came to South Africa in the late 1930s, shortly before Nazi madness gripped Germany and shocked the western world.

I looked at my aggressor, for what else could I do. With his knife against my throat, I knew it was pointless to struggle. For the old Zulu meant to rape then kill me. You came to the wrong place bitch, he said, in heavily accented English, and I closed my eyes, hard. Let death come for me swiftly, I prayed silently. I heard a gasp, and a thud, and opened my eyes to see my aggressor fallen at my feet, and a large, dark-skinned young man standing over him.

You should leave this place lady, the young man said, and his voice carried an accent that I could not place. I looked at my fallen aggressor, then at my apparent savior. Looking into his dark eyes, taking in his youthful visage, I smiled. Thank you, I said, and nodded, grateful beyond belief. The young man nodded, and then turned to leave. From his accent to his attire, which was stylish though understated, I could tell that he was definitely not local. My savior disappeared into the night, and I thought I'd never see him again.

September 2014 came, and I began my second year in the civil engineering programme at the University of Johannesburg. I put that incident behind me, although it continued to haunt my dreams. It had only been a month since that incident in Soweto, and I never told anyone about it. I just vowed never to set foot in that forsaken place ever again. The last thing I wanted was to come face to face with a reminder of one of my darkest moments.

So you can imagine my surprise when I saw a certain vaguely familiar tall, handsome and well-dressed young Black man walk into the University of Johannesburg library, where I work part-time. I did a double take, and gasped. Indeed, it had to be him....the guy from that night. I discretely followed him around the campus library, and watched as he sat at a computer and logged onto his Facebook.

I stood a certain distance away, and observed the dark, roughly handsome stranger for a moment. Indeed, it was the guy who saved me that night. My heart thundered in my chest. I took a deep breath, told myself to calm down, and approached him. Hello there I think we've met, I said, grabbing a chair and sitting at the computer next to my apparent savior. The young Black man smiled at me, puzzlement all over his face. We have? he said hesitantly. I nodded firmly, and told him about that night, not too long ago, when he saved me from an apparent would-be rapist and possible murderer.

The young man's eyes went wide, and he gasped audibly. It was really you, I said with a smile. Slowly understanding dawned on him and he nodded. I'm Lara, I said, extending my hand. After a brief hesitation, he shook it. He looked into my eyes and in a deep voice, introduced himself. I am Amos Dikotsi, he said with a smile. Thus we were officially introduced. The man I was destined to love and spend the rest of my life with.

Sounds a bit movie of the week, I definitely know this. If you don't like it, fuck you. Amos Dikotsi and I became friends, added each other on Facebook and began hanging out. Amos's a newcomer to South Africa, having transferred to the University of Johannesburg from the University of Ottawa, Ontario. Amos's parents, Julianne and Everton Dikotsi left the Kingdom of Lesotho for Ontario, Canada, in the 1980s. The young man was raised in Ottawa, and had come back to southern Africa for university studies. He was doing some volunteer work for a humanitarian organization the night we met in Soweto.

When Amos told me about the City of Ottawa, Ontario, the town he called home for most of his life, I grew fascinated with Canada's capital region. Sounds like the kind of place I might want to visit someday. I offered to be Amos's guide to life in Johannesburg, my beloved hometown and birthplace, and the young man from Lesotho happily took me up on my offer.

There's something enchanting about rediscovering one's hometown through the eyes of a foreigner. I love Johannesburg and consider it one of the best cities on the planet. We have so many Africans, Asians, Arabs and other ethnic groups in town. We're racially diverse, economically stable, and boldly moving toward the future. Unfortunately, we've still got a ways to go.

I found that out the night I went to Hauser's Tavern, a local pub I've frequented for years. I invited Amos Dikotsi out for drinks, since we were both tired after a week of exams at the University of Johannesburg. He's a law student and I'm in civil engineering, and even brainy types like us need a break from time to time. Amos and I entered Hauser's Tavern together, and you should have seen the way the mostly White and Asian clientele stared at us.

Amos Dikotsi and I sat together at a table, and ordered some food. I gave our order to Lucy, this redheaded waitress I've personally known for years. The coldness I saw in Lucy's eyes when she saw me sitting there with Amos Dikotsi could have frozen the sun itself. Be quick about it please we're famished, I told Lucy, and she rolled her eyes before hurrying off. The other patrons looked at us, as if they couldn't quite believe their eyes.

Nice place you got here, Amos Dikotsi said, looking at the surly White male patrons of this little South African restaurant and shaking his head. I looked at Amos and smiled, then gently laid my hand on his. Let them stare if they want I'm proud to be with you, I said, looking into Amos's dark brown eyes. Amos and I looked into each other's eyes, and smiled. And then we kissed. It was a ten-second peck on the lips, nothing like what you see in the movies and television shows today. Nothing like what I've gushed over while watching Two Broke Girls or The Vampire Diaries, that's for damn sure. But it was a kiss nonetheless.

A hush fell over Hauser's Tavern, and I looked up to see everyone staring at us. I gestured for Lucy to come, and finally, reluctantly, she brought our order. Amos and I ignored the creeps who stared at us and ate, talking and laughing, as if we didn't have a roomful of angry White guys staring daggers at our table. Amos and I finished eating, and then we left the tavern, hand in hand. I didn't care to ever return to Hauser's Tavern. Bunch of bigots can do without my Rand, thank you very much.

I'm sorry they stared at us like that, I told Amos as we neared my place. The tall, handsome young Black man from the Kingdom of Lesotho smiled and took my face in his hands. You're worth any kind of hell they throw my way, Amos said, and then he kissed me. I kissed Amos back with a passion that surprised us both. Let's go home, I whispered, and Amos nodded happily.

Once we got to my house, Amos and I went straight to the bedroom. I'm not a virgin or anything but I've never been the type to bring guys home. Amos Dikotsi, the handsome brother from the Kingdom of Lesotho, was a special case. You're beautiful, Amos told me, and I smiled with contentment. For I could tell that Amos meant it.

I've never considered myself beautiful, but I could see in Amos eyes that to him, I was a wonder. Grinning, he kissed every inch of me, exploring my womanly body like only a passionate man could. I lay there, and watched Amos work his magic. The Lesotho stud kissed my lips, my neck and my breasts, while his hand slipped between my chubby thighs, and I gasped in surprise as his fingers slid into my womanhood.

Oh, I cried out, and Amos smiled and asked me if I was okay. I nodded, then urged him to continue. Smiling wolfishly, Amos licked a path from my tits to my belly, and then gently spread my thighs. Yummy, Amos said, inhaling my cunt's scent, and I felt a bit self-conscious. Look, I've been out of the house all day so...yeah. Luckily, Amos didn't complain, and went to work munching on my pussy like only a hungry man can.

Dry spells, we all go through them from time to time, but I'd been going through the mother of all dry spells when I met Amos. The handsome stud from the Kingdom of Lesotho was just what the doctor ordered. My last relationship ended over a year ago. I'd been dating this guy named Mark Rosenberg whom I met at the Ohr Samayach Synagogue in Johannesburg. Our relationship ended when I found Mark in bed with Richa Singh, this Indian chick we were both friends with. I hadn't been with a man since.

Amos definitely helped me make up for lost time. The brother licked my pussy with gusto, fingering me and teasing me with his tongue. Groaning in pleasure, I writhed and moaned in the bed, loving every moment of the sweet torture Amos unleashed upon me. The brother left my body shuddering and my toes curled, and I cried out, in absolute and earth-shattering orgasmic delight. Whoa, I said, looking at Amos through misty eyes.

You're in for a treat sweetie, Amos whispered, and soon, I found out that he was a man of his word. Amos had me climb on top of him, and he took me in his strong arms and showed me what he was working with. Taking my hands in his, Amos placed them on his long, thick dark manhood. I smiled and gingerly stroked Amos's dick, marveling at its length and thickness. Wow, I said, sighing happily.

Amos rolled a condom on his dick, and asked me if I was ready for him. I nodded as Amos thrust into me, and I gasped as I felt his thickness enter me. For ages I'd gone without a man's touch, my body unloved, un-embraced, un-loved. Amos looked into my eyes, smiled that almost feral smile of his, and began really putting it to me.

I sighed happily as Amos sucked on my tits and smacked my big ass while slamming his dick into my cunt. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him full and deep, loving the feel of his dick inside of me. Amos shoved me onto the bed, raised my legs in the air and began pounding away at me, drilling his dick into my pussy. I looked up at this beautiful young man who was making passionate love to me and cried out his name. Fuck me Amos, I pleaded, while squealing in delight.

Happy to oblige, Amos whispered into my ear, licking my face as he rammed his dick even harder inside of me. I cried out, for I absolutely love the rough stuff. Guys don't guess this when they look at me because I'm shy, reserved and nerdy. The chick who always hangs out at the library, reading books or playing video games on the computer. They don't realize that girls like me love our sex kinky and wild. Freaky and nerdy, that's yours truly, folks.

Things got real fun when Amos put me on all fours, smacked my big White ass and even began pulling my hair as he slammed his dick into me. Getting fucked like this, on all fours, I absolutely loved it. The animalistic side of it, there's something about the very thought of that which gets my pussy wet. Amos really gave it to me, fucking me hard and calling me names, and I absolutely loved every minute of it.

Much later, after hours of passionate lovemaking, or nonstop fucking, whatever you want to call it, Amos and I lay on my bed, soaked in sweat and a slew of other juices, and I was smiling from ear to ear. That was fun, I said, snuggling against my gorgeous lover. Amos smiled and nodded.

Glad I met you Lara, Amos whispered, gently kissing me on the forehead. I was about to reply when the sound of Amos snoring stopped me dead. Yup, he's one of those guys who fall asleep right after the deed. Shaking my head, I kissed Amos on the lips. Not even that woke him up. Goodnight, I whispered, turning off the light. Finally, I've got passion back in this dreary life of mine. This Jewish gal is very happy tonight.