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Barbara cannot complain about her life: she is free and financially independent, has got some good friends and can do whatever she wants. But something is missing in her life: love and erotic fulfilment. She never experienced that with a man, and now she believes it's her fault.
One night something incredible happens: She is attacked by a youth gang, but a man saves her - a beautiful young colored man named Marcus. It looks like a one-off encounter. But Barbara cannot forget her black knight. He's her only hope for happiness...
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025
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Marcus
Part 1
My African Lover
by Barbara Black
© 2020 by Barbara Black
Also by Barbara Black
The Marcus Trilogy
Marcus – My African Lover
Marcus – I Will Fight For You!
Marcus – In Plain View
Content
My Story
Black Knight
A Quick Look
The Idiot in the Mirror
And There He Was
Masterpiece of Evolution
Eat me up!
Child Soldier Marcus
Two Nights
My Story
My name isn't Barbara. But the story I have to tell you is true, and I have to protect myself and others involved. Especially Marcus. We're talking about someone who's been through a lot in his short life, and I couldn't live with it if something happened to him. Even though the events in this book happened already a couple of years ago, I don't think he'll ever be completely out of danger.
In the description of events and persons I will strictly adhere to the truth, if necessary I will change place names. Please don't think this is overly secretive, but friends of mine also play a role in the story, and I don't want to abuse anyone's trust. Nevertheless, I assure you: All the events have taken place, exactly as I'm reporting it. My diary helped, but it was certainly the most unforgettable experience of my life.
I must warn you: this book is a love story in which I describe my feelings with exactly the intensity I experienced them - as far as possible. This also applies to eroticism. The man I'm falling for in this story is more than just any lover. The things he does with me and the things I do with him go far beyond »making love«. The animal greed that Marcus awakened in me is incomparable. I am happy that I have had these experiences and wish every woman and every man to experience this dimension of happiness for once.
In order to make my ecstasy as experiencable as possible for you, the description of these passages is very detailed and unvarnished. If this makes you uncomfortable, you should not read any further. I can fully understand when especially the female reader feels a little uncomfortably touched by overly precise descriptions of certain parts of the body and the intense description of what can be done with them. I used to think so too. I read my bestselling novels and hid the booklet love novels in my wardrobe, where nobody can find them, and I dreamt of great love in which sex takes place only in slow motion and with soft focus. But everything changes the moment you have such a glorious sexual experience yourself that all inhibitions simply fall off you. Please read the story from this cosmopolitan perspective, and don't forget: I warned you.
Everything happened last year in New York. I have lived there for thirteen years after moving there to study. I went to college without having a career goal in mind. It was strictly according to my preferences: English philology, because I read a lot. And art history, because it's really easy. Besides, you always have something to talk about during a party or a date, and the others admire you for your fascinating knowledge about a topic that is completely useless in many parts. Actually, I think art shouldn't be science. Let people just go to museums and galleries and decide for themselves what they like.
Studying was fun, and that was also because I had shared a flat with some girls, one of whom, Alexa, is still my best friend. More of her later, but let’s start the story now.
It was only in New York that I made my first experiences with men. I was quite pretty, I'd say, and maybe I still am today, even though I've gained a lot of weight since then. But I had grown up quite sheltered. I had had a boyfriend, but the good guy later turned out to be gay. I still love him, and I credit him for trying. But then it didn't do my ego much good that he had so little ambition to rip my clothes off.
In New York I was determined to change that. I went to parties, deeply cut out and dressed in short skirts, and I never had to wait long for a fellow student to take care of me. But even though they tried their best and did the greatest gymnastics in bed, I never had the feeling of experiencing anything special. After some time I suspected that I could be a lesbian.
However, this quickly turned out to be a mistake. Alexa happily made herself available as a test object. We made ourselves comfortable in her bed and started kissing and stroking each other. The whole experiment lasted about two minutes, then it was over. I felt even less than with the most awkward mathematics student - and that should mean something. Alexa agreed. We laughed, got drunk decently and watched TV indecently. So far my lesbian career.
At some point I got the idea that it wasn't me, it was the boys. Maybe they were just too inexperienced to make a real woman happy? So the solution had to be: Experienced, more mature men.
At first I had to overcome the problem that I had always found older men unattractive. The contrast between a slender, supple mid-twenties guy and a broad, hair-losing man in his forties was always too stark for me. But damn it, men with experience were surely able to put my body into the right vibrations?
And so I ended up in Richard's arms. He was a lecturer, but none of mine, his subject was physics. He was fifteen years older than me, which just seemed acceptable to me. For me, the age limit starts about where your partner could be a parent of yours. Fifteen's okay, eighteen's borderline, twenty's perverted.
We saw each other a couple of times in the canteen and got along well, then came a few dates that were clearly different from my previous ones: restaurants with cloth napkins, Broadway and Carnegie Hall. I felt raised to nobility.
As far as the act of love was concerned, I was able to observe a certain improvement. Richard knew what he was doing, and he did it with the skill and zeal he was capable of. Unfortunately, of course, there were limits: What the youthful lover lacks in experience, the older gentleman lacks in stamina. And so at some point I came to terms with the fact that women have to make compromises in life.
And so I said yes as soon as Richard asked me to be his wife.
I had finished my studies and now I had to face the fact that the job market hadn't exactly been waiting for me. The prospect of marrying a man I liked and who had a considerable fortune seemed like a rescue to me.
