BBC at the Disco
By D.O.
celliophonic@yahoo.com
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/bestbbcstories/
February 15, 2010
My eyes met his from across the sweaty, crowded dance floor. The ebony stud had caught my attention almost immediately, and apparently I had caught his as well. His bald, black dome was shining under the rotating disco ball. He was clearly a top and a daddy. So big and burly and masculine, his muscles straining to escape the confines of the skin-tight royal blue Hilfiger T-shirt. He looked to be at least twenty years my senior but he was in fantastic shape. He stood about six foot three or four and looked to be around two hundred thirty five pounds of rock solid physique. He looked like he just stepped out of an interracial porn video. Kinda mean looking and decidedly dominant. I gulped as his eyes captured mine with a smoldering gaze, melded with predatory aggression. His smile came across as both warm and inviting and as an arrogant sneer. A man who knew who he was and what he wanted......and perhaps more importantly, how to get it.
I shouldn't have even been in the place. What the hell was I doing in a gay dance club anyway? I was 28, straight and just coming off a broken engagement a few months previous. Somewhere along the way during my avid porn-surfing online, I must have come across some interracial porn and really enjoyed seeing those white girls getting it long and hard from the hung black dudes. Then I accidentally (I keep telling myself) stumbled upon interracial gay porn and I was hooked. It was then that I realized that when I had been jerking it to the straight black-on-white shit I had been watching, I was really imagining myself as the female, taking everything those brothas could dish out and then some. From then on I couldn't get enough of fantasizing about Mandingo dick. The length, the girth, the wicked curve, the hot and sticky cumshots. God I was addicted to the thought of being a black man's plaything! But surely I could
never, would never actually go through with such an idea. I was fucking straight, after all. I fucked girls, loved pussy and tits.
Yet here I was, inside Club Desire, the swankiest gay hangout in town, nursing a gin and tonic. I was wearing a black handkerchief with a white stripe on it just peeking out from the right pocket of my tight fitting blue jeans. It was meant to signify that I was into black tops, I guess. At least that's what I had read somewhere. I was scared shitless that someone would see it and approach me, even though, deep down it's what I wanted more than anything in the world. The music was thumping mercilessly, the volume certainly too loud. I was getting a headache. I looked back up at the black guy across the room, a good thirty yards away. Except, he wasn't thirty yards away anymore. He was almost upon me, not more than fifteen feet. Seconds later I gasped as he swooped in beside me, settling himself at my table without asking permission, as if he could do whatever the fuck he wanted. It was then that I noticed a white lace kerchief tied around his huge left bicep. I searched my mind, struggling to recall all of the gay hanky codes. My eyes widened as I remembered it was to indicate that the wearer was into white bottom-boys. Shit! Now what the hell was I going to do? I had just been getting ready to leave, recognizing a bad plan when I saw one. But then he spoke.
"Can I buy you another drink, sweetie?" His voice was deep, thick like I imagined chocolate marmalade would sound if chocolate marmalade had sound and he annunciated his words slowly and with an authority that suggested he was in total control of the situation. I was suddenly very uncomfortable and I moved to excuse myself. I responded back to his question. "Uhh, I'm really sorry...sir. I think I made a big mistake coming...in here......tonight. I'm actually...not...really...I'm not really......gay. Actually." I was stuttering my words, sounding like an idiot. I could feel my face turning red with embarrassment and I was quietly thankful for the dim lighting in the place. Suddenly, I felt his brawny paw covering my hand that was still resting on the tabletop. The strength and power in just that single hand had me practically swooning and I felt my knees and stomach both turn to jelly. "But I just got here, sweetheart. I'd like to talk a while... How'd that be?" He just about purred the words and I found myself slightly annoyed at his calling me sweetie' and sweetheart' but my heart was hammering in my chest so hard, I could scarcely even focus on my irritation and I let it slide without protest.
"I guess......it's OK...for a couple minutes. But I'm not really...into guys. I thought for...a second...that I might be......" He smiled again, a slightly evil grin and I didn't quite know how to read it... or him. He signaled the scantily-clad boy server for another of what I was having and continued on with the conversation, never missing a beat. "Relax, baby. I know you're not into...guys... Just blackmen." He emphasized the word `men'. "I've known plenty of boys like you. I can always tell when a white boy is looking for a big, black daddy..." His eyes flashed with a sultry and welcoming danger. I could not look away from his gaze, no matter how I tried. "What's your name, boy?" I could tell he expected an immediate answer and for some reason felt oddly compelled to please him. "Uhh...um...it's Shawn, sir. Shawn Helmho..." I stopped myself before I revealed my last name. "Just Shawn." That arrogant smirk fell across his features again as he repeated my name back to me. "Shawn, huh? Well Shawn, I'm Malik. My name comes from Arab royalty and several of my ancestors were conquering war leaders. I guess you might consider me......a conqueror of sorts..." His eyes still held mine in an unwavering gaze, hard and filled with power... and something else. I kept telling myself I didn't know the look, but in truth I knew all too well. I had given it to many women I had dated through the years. It was lust, craving...desire. And it scared the shit out of me. I had never had a man look at me like that. Now here was this man, this black man, old enough to be my father, staring at me with an animalistic hunger in his eyes. I felt my breath coming in short gasps. What the fuck was I doing? I couldn't go through with this. Jesus! I was straight! Straight! I was screaming at myself in my mind. But all I could do was stare into this man's eyes, allowing him to bore into my soul. His hand was stroking mine on the table, just a light feathery touch that belied the utter control in his contact. "When did you break up with your wife...? Girlfriend?" He asked the question so smoothly; I didn't even realize I was answering back. "Fiancé...actually. Almost got married... She broke things off a few months ago." Malik smiled a little and chuckled as he lifted his drink to his lips. It smelled like bourbon. I hadn't even realized the waiter had brought us drinks. "Now wouldn't that have been a damn shame. Wasting a fine ass like yours on a woman..." I felt myself go red with shame again and I realized he could tell. "You blush real pretty, baby boy. You want to maybe get out of here, go somewhere a little more......private...?" He left the question hanging in the air, all the while holding my gaze in his, undeterred by my shyness.
"Uh, I'm not sure I should... I should probably get......going. I..." He silenced me with his index finger to my lips. "Shhhh, baby boy. Come on with Daddy Malik. There's a motel around the corner. We can get down. You can decide if you like what you see, no pressure. You can leave anytime..." He stood up, gripping my elbow to pull me along. I couldn't fight him. As I stood up next to him, I suddenly realized how big he was. I'm not a small guy at five foot ten and about a hundred eighty pounds and in pretty good shape, I might add. But Malik towered a good half foot above me and looked to outweigh me by at least fifty pounds, maybe more. Jesus he was big and absolutely black as black can be. God the fucker was black! He slapped a fifty down on the table and guided me by the elbow through the sweating, thrashing throngs of dancing fags toward the exit. My knees felt so weak I didn't think I could make it,
but I could feel his strong body pressed right up next to mine, supporting me, steering me. Steering me en route to a new destiny. I'd never been so scared of anything in my entire life.
We stepped out into the 70 degree night air. The full moon shone on Malik's shaven head as we walked past the bouncer at the door. Suddenly out of the confines of the hot, smoky bar I was inhaling his scent. It was a mix of cologne, bourbon and black masculinity. My knees went even weaker as I pulled closer to him just to smell him some more. I couldn't believe I was doing this. Going to some skeezy motel with a black guy I had just met? What the hell was I thinking? I suddenly realized his big hand was cupping my butt, kneading and fondling with an unexpectedly familiar grip. I felt the need to pull away, all of a sudden snapping back to reality. "I'm sorry... Malik. I just......can't do this. I shouldn't." I was stammering again, not even quite sure what I was saying. The big stud simply kept a strong grip on me and kept walking. Who the fuck did he think he was? Without warning we were standing in front of a motel room door. When did that happen? "We're here, baby boy. I know you think you don't want to do this, but I think deep down......you want this more than you can possibly know. Why else would you be in that bar, wearing that bandanna in your pocket? It's obvious you need a strong and knowing black daddy to make into what you've always wanted to be: a bitch......" As he spoke he pulled out a key and swiftly inserted it into the lock. Jesus, he already had a room ready to go. Fuck.
In one sure motion he opened the door and pushed me inside, despite my protestations. The door slammed behind us and I heard him growl as he pushed me against the near wall and immediately covered my mouth with his, plunging his tongue inside me. And just like that, I was kissing a man for the first time. My muffled cries fell on deaf ears and soon my own licker began dueling with his, swirling around, tasting his spit. I put my hands on his shoulders to push him away, but he was much stronger than me and I slowly realized that my once-protesting hands were soon no longer pushing him away, but rather pulling him into me, exploring his hard muscles. His tongue continued plundering my mouth, kissing me so hard, I felt my lips begin to bruise. He was whispering dirty, scandalous things into my mouth as he continued our fervent lip-lock. "That's it baby boy. Get into it. We both know you're a faggot, a sleazy little whore who wants a strong nigger daddy to take you and make you into a girl. Right? You wanna give up your mouth and throat to my cock? How about......your asspussy...?" He reached down to stroke my hard-on, pushing on it through the denim of my jeans. "If you don't want this, you're fooling me. You're fooling yourself, whiteboy. You're hard as a fuckin' rock. You want a black daddy; you need a black daddy......" I was moaning into his mouth, tasting his words as I was tasting his mouth, his spit, his essence. My brain was still yelling at me about being straight, but somehow it was a softer roar now and it was fading into the remote reaches of my psyche. I became aware of the fingers of his other hand sliding into my ass crack, gliding up and down between my buns. I was arching forward into his hand on my cock and arching backward into his other hand searching for my asshole. All the while he kept up that dominant kiss, barely allowing me to breathe. And the dirty talk kept spewing forth as well. He called me baby, sweetie, bitch, whiteboy, whore, faggot, sweetie pie, little girl and so forth. God he had me hard and aching, wanting more of him, surely just as he had planned.
The next few minutes were a blur but I soon found myself completely naked, my clothes ripped from my body by Malik's bestial strength. He stepped back just long enough to peel his shirt up and over his shoulders and I heard myself gasp as I finally got an unfettered look at his torso. It was fucking beautiful! Absolutely amazing, I'd never seen anything like it, except in some of the fuck vids I'd seen, like on machofucker.com. Some of the tops on that site are unbelievable and it scared me more than a little bit at the thought of Malik being that much of a rough and hardcore top-man. And yet at the same time, the notion of surrendering my asshole to such a stud was almost too much to bear. I wanted it so badly...... I slowly ran my hands through the thick matte of lustrous dark hair covering his entire chest. He smiled down at me wickedly, knowing that I was loving his hairy manliness. Suddenly before I could react, he spun me around so I was facing the wall and I instantly felt his lips on my neck and a strong hand cupping each of my buttocks. I groaned as I raised myself up on my tiptoes, grinding my cheeks into the erection that was tenting his casual trousers. "Yea, that's it bitch! Show your daddy what you want. Show daddy what you need. Yea baby! You wanna suck daddy's prick, honey? Yea you wanna swallow some Alabama black snake, right? Cunt! Faggot!! Open that white pussy for me fagboi! Shit, you fuckin' need this cock, huh? Daddy's black cock? Your daddy's black cock..."
I was feeling positively fevered with lust now, unable to think straight, only knowing need, desperate need. Suddenly I felt a stiff finger probing my rosette, and within seconds, Malik had pushed in to the second knuckle on his middle finger. I gasped, startled at the initial penetration into my rectum. Never before had I had a man inside me and my hole instantly tightened up, prompting Malik to groan and bite the back of my neck aggressively. "Yea, that shit is fuckin' tight, huh baby boy? Just like I imagined. Tight and hot and......moist. So fuckin' moist, just like a pussy..." I felt his finger squelching in and out, slowly stretching me. I was ooohing and aaahing, grinding my hips and arching my back. His fingers that had been stroking my cockette, moved up to tweak and pinch both of my nipples, which had hardened into stiff, pointy peaks. Electric bursts shot through me as his rough paws ravaged my tits until they were aching for more of his touch. "Oooh yea, daddy. I... want your...... big, black cock. I...I want to give you my...my... asshole, daddy..." I could not believe my ears, the things that were coming out of my mouth. I sounded like some cheap porno whore; the really amazing thing was that I meant every word. I felt his body stiffen next to mine at my words. "Your what, faggot? Did you call it your asshole? Gurlieboi fags like you don't have assholes. They have a pussy. Got it gayboi?" I gulped back my humiliation. "S...sorry, Daddy. I mean I want to give you...my...m...my......p...pussy. My...ass...p...pussy...Daddy..." My insides were on fire as my black daddy finger fucked me, slow and easy. My black daddy...... It felt so weird to even think the words let alone say them aloud. I had only ever fantasized about this. My emotions were running wild as he methodically made me his girl, his whining and spasming boi-gurl. It was what I had always wanted.
Suddenly, Malik flipped me over onto the bed, rather forcefully. He plopped down next to me after finally divesting himself of his pants and briefs. His muscles were rippling and his dark black manhood stood out at attention, throbbing, sawing at the air as the blood pumped though the entire shaft. It was at least eight inches long and although I wasn't too certain of it's thickness, I could tell it was of formidable circumference. "Yea, baby boy. Time for you to taste your daddy. Get down there and start lickin' my prick. Got a big surprise for you..." I found myself licking my lips as Malik pushed me down toward his crotch and I got a deep whiff of his musky scent. My mouth started to water involuntarily and I could scarcely hold myself back from biting his plump cockhead in my excitement, so badly did I want to taste him. I licked gingerly at the droplet of precum that secreted from the purplish, blood-engorged tip of his erection. I swirled my tongue in the tiny slit and loved the reaction I got as his body shivered. "Yea, that's it sweetie. Get in there. Just like that. But first, I want you to lick my black balls. Just run that fine little licker all over my sack. I promise you'll like it, baby..." I looked up into his eyes and saw the look of a hardened man who was used to getting what he wanted and I obediently moved down to his huge nuts, breathing in more of his aromatic blackness and manliness. It was overpowering, the scent emanating from his crotch and it made my head spin with lust.
I tentatively touched the tip of my tongue to the cum-bloated gonad on my left. I gently laved it with oral ministrations, lovingly taking the entire baby-maker into my mouth. The flavor was beyond description, a mix of acrid sweat and musky tang. Different from pussy and better, much better. From that first taste, I knew that I wanted more and would always want more... I heartily devoured his testicles, gently biting, sucking and licking like a man possessed...or perhaps more appropriately, a woman possessed. Because, that's what I was feeling like at that moment, inexplicably. I had no control over it, no explanation for it. I just felt like Malik's woman. I got the distinct feeling that this was exactly what the black stud had intended. I had put myself out there and had gotten scooped up by a genuine daddy. And now I had no choice but to go through with the entire scenario. The screaming in my head, about me being straight...? Yea that was pretty much gone now. All I could think of was pleasuring this man to the best of my ability.
After several minutes of this treatment, Malik's boner appeared ready to burst and he motioned roughly for me to move back to the shaft. "Yea, gurl, I want you to suck me some more. I'm just about ready to take your throat......" His gaze caught mine and I once again saw that slightly evil smirk and I'm sure he sensed my trepidation at the thought of deepthroating him. But it wasn't going to matter, of that I was certain. I suckled up and down the black pipe, loving the manly taste, the feeling like hot steel covered in smooth velvet against my lips. I could feel the blood rushing from top to bottom, pumping strongly and fiercely. The sentiment of my subjugation was palpable in the dank motel room and both of us knew it. There was no doubt I was falling for this man, this black daddy. Powerful, in control and undeniably all male. I licked for all I was worth, sucking as much of the Mandingo manhood into my mouth as I dared, all the while eliciting moans and grunts of satisfaction from Malik, the man who had become my daddy. Suddenly, without warning, I felt his hand tightly grip the back of my skull and he pushed me farther down onto his cock, until I could just barely feel the tip grazing the back of my throat. The sudden sound of his voice distracted me from my imminent discomfort.
"Better get ready for my black meat, faggot, cause it's comin'. I like to make a home for my cock in my gurls' throats and one thing you need to understand is......it's happening, bitch..." He stated it with the confidence and arrogance of a dominant cocksman. "Oh and one more thing......keep your eyes on mine the whole time, faggot. I like my girlieboi's to be looking at me while I'm burying my bone down their suck pipe." With that, he proceeded to push further into my throat, hitting the back and instantly causing my gag reflex to take over. Now I was gagging, coughing, choking but he continued on and I was unable to break free from his firm grasp on my head. "Yea that's it, baby boy. Your black daddy's prick is halfway down your cocksucking throat. How's it feel, cunt?" I was still gagging horribly, tears running down my cheeks as I tried in vain to contort the muscles in my throat into a more comfortable shape or position. But it seemed to no avail. Malik's right hand was under my chin, holding my face upwards at an angle which kept my eyes focused directly on his. "That's it baby boy. Just keep looking right at me..." He was smirking arrogantly again, his eyes filled with an almost spiteful wickedness as he watched me struggle to choke down his toughened flesh. The sounds I was making as I took my daddy's pole down my throat were like a drowning victim gasping for one last breath. They were incommunicable but certainly horrific. Tears continued to pour from my eyes as I endured the brutal treatment. And then I found my nose buried in pubic hair and I realized my lips were stretched around the thick base of Malik's chocolate prick. And then, he stopped.
"You know, Shawn, it occurs to me that men shouldn't really be cocksuckers. It's not very manly, is it? It's more of a woman's thing. Very female, if you know what I'm saying......" He looked me square in the eyes, his gaze hard and without any spec of mercy or leniency. He kept a hand on my head as I began to learn fully just what the term `deepthroat' truly meant. His tone was almost pleasant, bordering on conversational. "Yet here you are, my prick buried, and I do mean buried entirely down your gullet. Course, you of all people certainly are aware of this... How do I taste, faggot? Does your daddy's dick taste like you'd hoped or dreamed?" He laughed at my obvious anxiety, unable to breathe or even move without explicit consent from a black man I had met less than an hour ago. All the while, his eyes held mine in a pitiless stare. "So since you have an obvious desire to become a female, from now on, I think your name will be......Shawna. Not so different from your previous name, so not too difficult to remember, right fagboi?" I nodded slightly and moaned out a muffled cry of acquiescence as I began to feel myself grow light-headed. It felt like I hadn't drawn a breath in five minutes and my lungs were burning. "That's a good gurl. All right, Shawna baby, you've done well for your first time cocksucking. Up you go......"
Then I was gasping for air, sucking in lungfuls of oxygen as his black snake slid quickly back out of me and I found myself violently coughing up a thick, viscous mucus which also coated Malik's cock from base to tip. I was crying now, uncontrollably, as I felt the vestiges of manhood slipping away from me. I had to hold on to them, yet I was also shockingly aroused from my rough handling by this extraordinarily confident and arrogant black top. Despite the pain and how scared I was, I felt a dark and inescapable desire taking root in the core of my being. I needed to be his, needed to belong to Malik. I needed him to take me and make me his......girl. I didn't want it (or did I?), I needed it. "D...daddy! Daddy...I need...I think...I...ohhhh......" I couldn't think straight, couldn't even form words. He lifted my face again with a firm hand under my chin and I looked up at him once more. "Shhhhh, sweetie-pie. Just go ahead and tell Daddy Malik what you need. Don't think, Shawna, just tell me what you need. I already know...I just want you to say it, so you can hear it for yourself......"
My brain was ready to explode from the emotional overload. Coupled with my first cocksucking experience, I was feeling completely overwhelmed, especially when Malik referred to me as Shawna, pointedly trying to separate me from my male mindset. Without warning the black brute thrust forward again, jamming his cock back down my raw throat. "That's it, my little pet. Taste your Daddy's chocolate fuck-stick. Yea, just like that." He spoke softly, almost soothingly as he slowly but confidently levered his gristly flesh in and out of my oral orifice. Here was a man used to doing this, taking young throats and turning them into snug fuck holes exclusively for his enjoyment. It was totally silent in the room, the only sounds being the wet slurping and squelching cadence of my new black daddy's forceful taking of my mouth and throat and my gagging every time he hit the back of my esophagus. My lungs were ablaze as I sought out a breath of air, however fleeting, on each of his up-thrusts. His hands still held my head in a firm grip, one twisted in my hair and the other almost tenderly grasping my chin, fingers on my cheeks as he continued to compel me to look into his eyes. "Yea, Shawna baby, you like my flavor? You like that taste, all man......all black man...?" I nodded as well as I could and groaned out a muffled `yes' around my mouthful of his cock and he looked pleased. "Goddamn, you're beautiful boy! Fuckin' beautiful! I knew it could be like this, when I first laid eyes on you..." He smiled down at me, a depraved grin, full of lust and the knowledge of the power he held over me. "You're gonna make me cum if we keep this up boy, and I don't want to just yet. So I'll tell you what. I will let you up for air, but I gotta hear you say the words I asked for. I want you to tell me just what you need. Tell me what a white boy like you needs from a black daddy......"
My mind was spinning, an emotional turmoil as I struggled to wrap my head around the enormity of what was happening. This was more than just a simple sexual encounter with some hot chick; this was a lifestyle change, if I chose to go through with it. It was going to be absolute submission to this black man, this Nubian God, whose spit-covered erection was inches from my face. He had just violated me orally and I was certain he had his site set ultimately on taking my ass...I mean my...pussy... It felt very strange to think about my anal cavity in such terms and yet...it felt so right at the same time. I blubbered out my response in a strained, choked cry. "Daddy......I... need you... I want to...to... give you... my b...boip...pussy......" My head drooped in shame as I uttered those words, even as I could feel the ache and the need pulling me in multiple directions. I continued on, stammering out the horrifying words that echoed with finality that I was uncertain I was ready to face. "I...want...to drink...your... cum......D...daddy... my B...black...daddy......" I trailed off, terrified to meet his gaze, even as I desired more than anything I could recall, to give myself over to him fully.
That cocksure smirk spread across his face once more, as he listened intently to my sniveling cries as I slowly transformed into a blackcock-slut in heat. I was sure I was far from the first white boy who had gone through this exact scenario. Clearly this was a man who was used to achieving his desired ends and I had little doubt that I was not his first conquest. He had told me at the beginning of our meeting that he was a conqueror, and now I knew precisely why he had given himself that moniker. I was now the defeated, ready to be subjugated to the will of this overpoweringly masculine black top. I cried a bit more as I felt my manhood sliding further away from me with each passing moment. But somehow, I didn't want it to stop. I wanted to give into the dark, twisted craving that was practically eating me alive. I realized I couldn't stop it and I would soon give in completely.
MORE TO CUM.............