This story is pornographic fiction, with an emphasis on "graphic." Any resemblance to real persons or events must reside in your own vivid imagination because it is not the intent of this author. If sexual scenes between males offend your sensibilities, read no further! If you are under the age of consent, turn back at once! However, if you want to hear about what happened to one individual who surrendered to his true desires, read on...
Black Bodybuilders, by Skorpio
j_skorpio_2005@yahoo.com
Bobby Whitmore was a 36 year old white guy married with two daughters, who had a secret fascination for Black bodybuilders. There was a time during his adolescence when Bobby masturbated to photos of classic physiques such as Jesse Stonewall, Gordon Van Sertima, Frank Satchell, David Johns, and others that he saw in magazines. For years Bobby tried to suppress this attraction, but it stirred whenever he espied a well-built Black man in tight fitting clothes.
Bobby joined the gym to be around Black men. Most of the members were Black between the ages of eighteen and forty. Bobby observed how nonchalantly they strolled naked through the locker room, while white guys modestly concealed themselves. Bobby wasn't a bad looking guy, but he was on the scrawny side with love handles and an embarrassing five inch penis.
Struggling with light bench presses on the Nautilus, Bobby watched with envy and awe as Black Men his age and younger grunted over heavy iron weights. Their perfect bodies made him feel inferior and that in turn awakened his submissive nature. He wished that he was built like them, but knew he lacked both the genetics and discipline to improve upon his inadequacies.
The weight room smelled liked funky armpits or a sweat-soaked jockstrap. Bobby knew nothing about the effective power of pheromones; otherwise he might have understood why the musky aroma of African sweat glands made his senses swim. In other words, you could smell the testosterone, and if you were female or white, that aroma alone possessed a certain influence.
Meanwhile, in the sauna sat four muscular brothas on wooden benches with white cotton towels loosely draped across their loins. Marcus, Charles, Tee, and Thomas were in their mid-twenties and had been lifting together since high school. They all had shaved heads and smooth, hairless bodies. Their physiques seemed so much alike that they could have been quadruplets. Each had a slender 29 inch waist with bulging 18 inch arms, massive 50 inch chests and fiercely rippled abs.
As steam filled the tiny room, their idle conversation drifted from sports to women and before long Marcus was bragging about two white girls he screwed a few nights ago. After Marcus described their activities in graphic detail, all four men experienced spontaneous erections.
Charles ripped away his towel and revealed his nine inch dick hard as steel sticking straight up. "See what you done!" he joked.
Tee and Thomas removed their towels too, exposing their own raging hard-ons. They had all seen one another hard before at one time or another. There wasn't anything queer about that. A stiff dick was just a fact of life, that's all.
Marcus remarked, "Remember when we was kids and used to jerk off together watching my dad's porno movies?"
"Yeah, that was back in the day," Charles recalled. "We're grown now. I can't remember the last time I touched myself."
"Me, neither," agreed Tee. "Ain't no need now we all got bitches."
Thomas said, "I wouldn't mind having a bitch go down on my shit right now."
"Amen!" testified Charles. "If they opened this gym up to shorties, maybe we could get a little head after working out."
That was when 32 year old Bobby Whitmore opened the door to the sauna and stepped inside. The door closed behind him before he realized he was in the midst of four naked Black Men joking about their throbbing cocks.
Bobby was shirtless and wore red baggy trunks. He felt very small and helpless in their presence. He didn't even see their faces. All he observed were four Black phalluses sticking upright.
"Just what the doctor ordered," laughed Marcus, grabbing his long, thick dick with both hands.
"I'm sorry," said Bobby timidly. "I should go.... "
"Nah, sit yo' white ass down," said Tee, aggressively.
This was not a friendly suggestion.
"Better yet," Thomas asserted, "Get down on yo knees and say Ahhhh!"
"Yah, you heard da man," growled Charles. "Say, let us hear you say: Ahhhh!"
It was as if the four friends had the same idea at the same time. Bobby stepped back, but Tee stood up and pushed Bobby to the floor. The whiteboy crumpled at once under Tee's strength.
"We gonna get our dicks sucked!" Tee announced. "You gotta suck dick if you wanna get out of here in one piece, cracker!"
"That's right, bitch!" Thomas joined in. "Open up your fuckin' mouth!"
Bobby parted his lips to protest but got bitch slapped by a heavy black hand. He didn't see who struck him. He tasted blood. He was on his knees, looking up at four muscular Black men with their swollen members dangling in his face in his face so close that he could smell them..
Bobby longed to press his face into the closest crotch and inhale its musk. At the same he was deeply ashamed. He thought of his pretty wife and wished he was safe at home with her. He thought of his kids and wondered what they would think if they saw their dad being face-raped by four Black bulls.
Worse, what would his kids think if they knew their dad actually enjoyed it???
Nonetheless, Bobby wanted to suck Black cock.
Marcus was first to drive his thick uncut dick into the whiteboy's open mouth. Bobby choked as the throbbing cylinder of ebony flesh forced its way into his tight throat. Marcus steadied Bobby's head with one hand and drove his cock with short thrusts repeatedly into the whiteboy's warm, wet esophagus.
For fifteen minutes Marcus skull-raped Bobby until his cock exploded like a cannon. Bobby swallowed every ounce of sperm.
Charles was next, reclining on the wooden bench while Tee forced the whiteboy's mouth down on Charles' chunky meat. With Tee's hands pressing his shoulders Bobby had no choice but to deep throat Charles's pulsating pipe. The 36 year old struggled helplessly.
"Suck my dick, old man," said Charles. "You're Daddy's little head-master! There you go. Suck it like that, freak! Yah, suck it good."
Bobby sucked greedily until Charles spurted hot lava-gobs of African soul onto Bobby's face.
"Oh, yahh," crowed Charles. "I always knew whitey was good for something!" Charles really hated caucasians. He loved seeing his sperm splash the whiteboy's face.
"Hell, yahh," said Marcus. "Whiteboys are only good for one thang!" This was met with raucous agreement. Deep down, they all hated whitey.
Raping Bobby's mouth was as much political satisfaction as sexual. Some experts say that rape is not a sexual act, but one of power and cruelty. In this case, it was both.
"This is what you was born for, faggot!" laughed Tee out loud. "Now get to suckin'. You gonna love my nutt!"
By the time Tee and Thomas released their fiery sperm into the cracker's eager mouth, Marcus was ready to go again. Each brotha came once more, their second loads no less volcanic than their first.
Bobby gagged on the thick, sticky, hot cum. The spicy flavor of African sperm haunted him for the rest of his life.
Crumpled on the floor of the hot sauna, Bobby overheard these parting remarks:
"Man, we gots to do this again some time."
"Yahh, that pussy loved this shit. Took it like a real ho."
"What did you expect from a cracker?"
"Always heard crackers are cocksuckers."
"It's da truth, yo!"
"Did you see how scared that bitch was?"
"Man, yahh, that was sweet."
"We should've put a hurtin' on his punk ass. I wanna hear the bitch holla."
"Make his white ass beg for mercy!"
"Next time, y'all."
"You think his booty as tight as his mouth?"
"Only one way to find out!"
"See ya next time, faggot!"
"Yahhh, next time yo ass will get fucked!"
Alone at last, Bobby reached into his shorts and stroked his stiff five-inch pencil-penis. He jerked off on the floor of the sauna, aroused by their power and magnificence, and he knew his life would never be the same again.
Returning to his locker, Bobby found it vandalized. The lock was broken and all his street clothes and valuables were gone. Bobby drove home in his red gym shorts, wondering what explanation he would give to his wife.
He never dared return to that particular gym, but from that night on, the only way Bobby Whitmore could get his little white dick hard enough to fuck his wife was by fantasizing about the four Black bodybuilders who raped his mouth.
THE END