Gone Black - Chapter One - Jeron's Bitch Boi

Gone Black - Chapter One - Jeron's Bitch Boi

* This story is fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or living persons is coincidental.
Personal experiences, from images to events, memories and words, flavor my writing, and while elements of this story may be (and often are) based in fact, the characters are entirely fictional.

* Unprotected sex is depicted. In real life, be safe! Don't gamble.

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GONE BLACK

By Colton Aalto

[Author's Note: Gone Black is a sequel to an earlier story I wrote, Go Black, Never Go Back, which is posted on Nifty and can be found by following the links at the end. Gone Black is a stand-alone story, so it is not necessary to read the earlier story first, but Go Black includes background on the characters and describes the events of Collins' summer that are referred to in the story. This story picks up a month after the conclusion of Go Black.]

CHAPTER 1 – JERON'S BITCH BOI

As soon as I turned my beat-up Volkswagen onto the street in front of my dad's apartment building, I spotted Jeron. The young, lanky black dude was sprawled on the back of a park bench next to a crumbling basketball court. Behind the court was a formerly elegant park that had seen better days.

Like, much better days. The place had developed an infamous reputation and was as crime infested as they come.

Fortunately the basketball court was empty and Jeron was alone, which meant I wouldn't have to drive around the block or hit a fast food joint while waiting for his bros to depart after they and Jeron finished playing ball. I'd never seen a dude with blacker skin, and that was saying something because every school I'd attended had a mostly black student body. My high school had like 3,000 kids and easily 80% were black. I was the sole white kid on our basketball team – even the coaches and ballboys were black – but I wasn't a token. I'd started as a junior and was a lock to be one of the team's stars as a senior. Basketball ran in our family to the point that I'd even been named `Collins' after Doug Collins, a former number one pick in the NBA draft who'd played and coached for years.

Dressed in his usual dark hoody, Jeron looked sinister, but he always looked sinister. The stud radiated hostility and belligerence. He was a few years older than me – 22 plus or minus – and had a long knife scar across his right cheek. He was tall and thin but had wiry and surprisingly powerful muscles to go along with big hands and feet. Seeing him, my cock thickened in anticipation. I was like a fucking dog hearing a can opener.

I managed to park my car without any disasters. During the month since my dad found an apartment in the building, I'd had to deal with parallel parking and while I'd gotten better, I still dreaded it. I unfolded my 6'5" frame from the car and even before I shut the door, Jeron growled, "Yo, Collins. Git yo faggot ass over here, white boy! Where yo been, bitch ho?" I brushed a hand through my long, floppy brown hair and headed in his direction, my cock powering into a rock-hard boner with each step. My fucking tool had a mind of its own around the stud. It was as if it was a magnet pulled toward an iron pole.

Actually if Jeron's cock was the iron pole, it was my ass that was attracted to it. My dick was just demonstrating how damn happy it was when he thrust his pole into my hole.

Jeron called me Collins, but I was pretty sure he'd never used my name before, and I wondered how he even knew it. He'd fucked my ass for a month and never called me anything other than derogatory putdowns like `cum dump,' `dick hole,' `asscunt,' `twat head' or worse. Maybe his friend Willy, who'd inaugurated my mouth with his veiny cock a few days before Jeron did the honors on my ass, told him. I sorta preferred Jeron's trash talk to being called by my real name.

I dutifully walked to the bench where he waited for me with a leering smirk. My dick stretched against my basketball shorts and I felt a little wet spot where pre-cum was seeping into my jock strap. Any white kid in his right mind – hell, any black, Asian or Latin kid too – finding himself in the middle of the ghetto at twilight and hearing Jeron's sneering command would have double timed it in the other direction. I suppose the fact I was doing the opposite led to the obvious conclusion I wasn't in my right mind. My dick and ass were totally running the show, not my brain.

In fact, they'd run the show for the entire summer, especially for the last month, ever since the first night I arrived after my dad rented the apartment. It was the cheapest place he could sublease for a few months after he and my mom announced they were divorcing. The rat-infested dump was inexpensive for good reasons, its location among others. Because my mom worked weekends, I stayed with my dad each Friday, Saturday and Sunday night, and the first night I arrived, Jeron quickly detected I was an easy mark. He'd hauled me into the decrepit park behind the basketball court, forced me to my knees and delivered a brutal face fuck until he shot a massive mouthful of thick jizz down my throat. He made sure I swallowed every drop, and then took a break to slap me around a bit and spew derogatory comments. That turned him on big time, and he got hard again quickly. He bent me over a metal picnic table, pulled my shorts and boxers down to my ankles, spanked my bare buns, spit into my exposed hole and rammed his black ballbuster into my ass.

My virgin-until-that-very-moment ass...

It hurt like hell. I struggled to endure the pain as he continued to pound me, but somehow I relaxed enough that his shaft began to feel okay. And then... it was incredible. His fuck stick raked my prostate and filled my hole, and I went from anguish to euphoria. In that moment, I was hooked. Hooked on cock. Hooked on getting buttfucked. Hooked on being bred like a whore. The dude totally changed my life by shoving his manhood all the way up my ass.

My ruined ass leaked black nut after he was done, and I couldn't wait to jack off. I dug cum out of my hole and licked it off my fingers as I splattered a big load of my own spunk onto the picnic table. By the time I hauled myself out of the park and made it to my dad's apartment, I was ready to go again and couldn't wait for a return engagement with the fuck machine and his sleek black rod. I hadn't waited long. Since that first time, I'd spent every evening on the weekends servicing the stud.

I reached Jeron's bench, where he sat glowering at me, his jaws clenched and his eyes angry. He grabbed my neck with a bony hand and spat into my face. "White boy, who own yo faggot holes?"

I didn't respond, but he didn't expect an answer. He answered his own questions. The dude's sullen frown turned into a cold sneer, and he said, "Jeron own yo, bitch, dat who. Jeron don spoil yo an made yo gud fo nuttin but takin' black cock. Yo gon suck Jeron's cock and swallow his nut. An den he gon rape yo faggot ass." He slapped me across the face, leaving it stinging.

What Jeron was threatening wouldn't be rape even though he talked about it and thought of it that way. The reason was simple: I wanted it. The first time I met him and he announced he planned to ram his long black snake into my soon-to-be-ex-virgin-ass, he'd made a point of saying that I could say `no.' He repeated it over and over, and I think he meant it and would have backed off if I'd just said that one word. I never did. Knowing he'd won, he ridiculed me for not telling him no and lately he'd mostly stopped offering because we both knew I'd never take him up on it.

It was obvious to both of us that I had turned into a whore for his fuck tool, but paradoxically neither of us embraced it or even admitted it. Jeron loved the illusion that he was forcing me, that somehow I was a straight boy who was caught in a web I couldn't escape. So I played along, pleading him to not do the exact things I was hungry to have happen. I'd beg him not to make me suck his cock, and he'd laugh and inform me I was going to anyway. I'd implore him not to buttbone me, and he'd slap me and tell me he was gonna rape my faggot boi pussy.

I was kinda into the illusion that he was forcing me, too. Well, totally into it. The idea that he was coercing me into servicing him was a turn-on, even if deep down I understood that coercion had never made an appearance and didn't even have a bit part in our play. When the victim wants it as much or more than the aggressor, it isn't coercion.

Jeron continued to taunt me. "Yo gon like it boy, ain't yo? White boy don got spoil by Jeron's big cock. He learn dat he made ta service da black man. Black men look inta dos pretty blue eyes and dey see a white boy who done take it up da ass and who bend over whenever dey wanna bust a nut. A mudderfuckin cocksucker who open his pretty mouth for da black cock anytime. Yo gon suck Jeron right now!" His dark eyes gleamed with excitement.

For a moment I worried that he'd shove me to my knees and make me blow him right where we were. Anyone coming down the street or looking out a window in the apartment building would see us. Instead he hopped off the bench and with a lightning-quick move wrenched my hand behind my back. He'd done the same thing for the entire month. I marveled at how fast he was and even knowing what was coming I'm not certain I could have stopped him.

Not that I wanted to.

Keeping my arm pinned behind me, he shoved me into the park. A normal park would have been crowded with people strolling along the pathways and walking dogs on the Friday evening before Labor Day. It was a nice night to get some fresh air. Not this park. It was never crowded, a consequence of its location in one of the worst parts of the city as well as its generally run-down state of repair. You took your life in your hands to wander into it alone, regardless of the time of day or night. Inside it, Jeron could have his way with me without worrying about anyone seeing or hearing us. I'm not certain how much that mattered, because I don't think he would have been bothered by an audience.

I probably wouldn't have been bothered either.

As we walked deeper into the park, Jeron hissed in my ear, "Jeron got a `lil surprise for da white bitch slut later. But firs da ho gon suck Jeron off an swallow his nut. An den white boi gon get buttfucked by Jeron's big meat. Jeron gon open his bitch up good. Real good. Dat twat gon be leakin Jeron jizz when Jeron done wit it!"

My fucking dick threatened to bust out of my jock strap, which was getting wetter and wetter as pre-cum oozed from my rod. I was about to come face-to-cock with Jeron's sleek black tool. I wished the light was stronger so I'd have a better view of his big python, but even if we'd been under a spotlight I would have only gotten a momentary glimpse of it before he jammed it down my helpless throat. The verbal and physical abuse Jeron heaped on me always turned him on, and by the time he shoved me to my knees and pulled down his basketball shorts, his rod would be semi-hard. Indeed, lately it had been closer to rock hard and my throat had no time to gradually adjust as his pole hardened. Instead, I suffered as he rammed his shaft into me cold turkey. My throat was guaranteed to be raw and sore after he finished with it.

While my dick and ass had run the show since I met Jeron, they'd been in charge of most of the summer as well. My summer had been a tale of extremes. I'd started as a virgin. Until the middle of June, I'd never had sex. None. Nada. Zilch. I was 17, a high school basketball star and a big-time jock, and I got nothing. Of course, looking back, being gay might have had something to do with my failure to devote any serious effort to getting a girl into bed. Not that I'd tried with guys either. My parents and friends assumed the absence of girlfriends in my life was due to my concentrating on basketball and school, but at best those were minor factors. I mean, my best friend Jason played ball too and he got more sex than seemed possible. At the beginning of the summer I was probably the only boy in my high school who'd never had his dick in a cunt or an ass. It was a big school, too, so we're talking about a lot of kids. Even the damn freshmen and sophomores scored regularly.

My first sexual encounter in what had become a dizzying summer of sex came shortly after Jason and I spent a hot mid-June day enjoying the beach rather than playing basketball like we usually did. He revealed that he'd done one of our high school classmates, Ben, a dancer with a hunky little body who was maybe the only Jewish kid in our school. His story captured my full attention and armed with that knowledge, I hooked up with Ben only days after hearing Jason's tale, although in truth Ben took most of the initiative. For a month he sucked me off and I dicked him each day after we finished our summer jobs.

I never got around to blowing Ben or bottoming for him before our mini affair ended abruptly. I was hung up on the notion that jocks didn't do that. But after Ben moved on, I learned an important lesson, courtesy of Jeron's friend Willy: I loved sucking dick. It was a helluva lot better than banging cunt – yeah, I'd experimented with that during the summer too – or even ass, and I loved eating ball juice. Black ball juice. Days later, Jeron saw me the first night at my dad's apartment and I learned a second lesson. In addition to how much I loved slurping down black nut, I loved getting bred by a big black cock, having it shoved all the way up my ass and taking a big load in my hole. Every night I'd stayed at my dad's after that first night, I'd taken a mouthful of Jeron's babymakers, and then he'd bent me over the picnic table – the same one every time – and buttboned me, leaving my ass seeded and sloppy.

Yep, I'd gone black.

Not that I wouldn't do a white guy. In addition to fucking Ben, during the summer I'd boned another white kid, Luke, and would happily sign up for an encore with either or both of them. But topping wasn't what drove me crazy. Instead, I was mesmerized by big, hard cocks, slick with my spit, dripping my ass juices and covered in cum. I was cut out to bottom.

And to add a small detail to the picture, I was cut out to bottom for black cock. Getting buttfucked wouldn't be the same if the hard shaft wasn't black. Like I said, I'd gone black.

The one sexual experience I truly wanted hadn't happened yet and I didn't know how to pull it off. I hungered for my bro Jason to use and abuse my holes. He was the star of our basketball team, a slender 6'8" tower of power who could bang under the boards with the best. And bang under the sheets with the best. I had one glimpse of his equipment when it was rock hard, and it was a vision that was seared in my memory. I'd take that vision to my grave. The dude had an amazing black monster that was even bigger than Jeron's. I wanted it in my hands, in my mouth and up my ass. He'd proposed exactly that on the beach back in June, but then I was a nervous, scared and petrified virgin, and I'd turned him down. He'd been my best friend forever, so having sex with him seemed weird somehow, and at the time there was the little problem that I wasn't ready to admit to myself or anyone else that I was gay. After I declined his proposition, I didn't know how to reopen the conversation. Maybe my regrets over telling Jason no were part of the reason I never said no to Jeron. Whatever. By the time Jeron buttfucked me half a dozen times, I had a hard time imagining any stiff black shaft that I'd turn down. They were too damn incredible.

I was surprised when Jeron stopped before we got to our usual picnic table. He spun me around, pushed me to my knees and growled, "White ho gon suck Jeron's big cock now!" He tugged his hoody behind his head, revealing his ripped torso, and pulled down his basketball shorts, freeing his snake. It was rigid and hard and inches from my face. My own rod was rigid and hard, too, but it had been ever since I got within ten feet of the black thug.

We were still close enough to the street and the basketball court that we could be seen, and while people might not be able to identify us, there would be no doubt what we were doing. I mean, there are only so many things that happen when a dude is on his knees in front of another dude. For Jeron, I'm pretty sure there was only one thing, and I was about to do it.

Despite the fear of being seen, I dutifully went to work. Jeron had an incredible cock. It wasn't Jason's but it was big, black and beautiful. I got a nice view of it this time because there was a streetlight a short distance behind me, which provided plenty of light. It also meant that from the street we were backlit, which was probably a good thing. We would only be shadows, although shadows engaged in a suspicious activity that was blatantly illegal in public.

Jeron was ready to go. Maybe that was why he stopped before we reached the picnic table. Strangely, however, rather than grabbing my head and ramming his rod down my throat, he let me lick his shaft up and down, suck on his balls and play with them, and then gradually take his tool into my throat. Maybe he liked how I worshipped his manhood. But it wasn't long before he grew frustrated with what for him was a leisurely pace. Far too leisurely. Taking things into his own hands – literally – he wrapped his fingers in my floppy brown hair, held my head tight, and shoved his cock down my throat, growling, "Suck, bitch!" The slam fuck of my face was on. Getting skull fucked by a black stud always turned me on, but Jeron was super horny, which only made it better.

I gagged and choked but did my best to suck. Jeron never took that long to fire a load down my throat, but this face fuck was faster than usual. He only bashed my face with his big assault weapon for three or four minutes before beginning to breathe heavier and ramping up his already-rapid pace. As usual, my eyes started to water. I wasn't sucking his cock so much as providing a wet hole for him to use. I loved it all. I loved watching his toned muscles flex as he thrust forward, ramming his cock down my throat. I loved staring up at his dark, glowering eyes. I loved being on my knees as he towered over me.

Despite panting heavily, Jeron still managed to hiss, "Eat Jeron's cum, bitch!" Moments later his big rod discharged, sending a rocket of thick jizz into my mouth. He kept his pole jammed down my throat while it spurted five or six more times. I concentrated on swallowing so I didn't drown, breathing through my nose and resisting my gag reflex. Yeah, I was savoring his taste, too. I always did.

When his balls were finally spent, he pulled his slick shaft from my mouth and did the usual – slapping it across my face several times and wiping my spit and his cum on my face and in my hair. He grinned and sneered. "White boy cain't get nuff uv Jeron's nut, can he?" He was spot on.

Jeron continued to slap his pole across my face until it softened somewhat. It never got completely soft, hanging in a tantalizing way and hovering above his big, dangling eggs. I would have happily gone back to sucking him but knew my role was to do what he said, when he said, how he said, where he said, and... well, you get the picture. I waited on my knees, desperately wishing I could stroke my bone or at least squeeze it. But I knew better.

He gazed down at me and growled, "Show Jeron yo dick, white boy."

I was used to that. He enjoyed seeing the hard evidence – pun intended – that he'd given me a boner by face-fucking me. Even though I was rock hard, in Jeron's world that didn't make me gay. Go figure. For him, a jock basketball player, even a white one who got stiff every time he got buttfucked, wasn't gay. Instead, he believed he was such a stud that he could make a straight boy get hard merely by showing his cock and explaining what he was gonna do with it. In his mind fucking a dude made him more of a man. A real man. He believed pussy was so readily available that any loser could get some, but it took a stud to subjugate another man, destroy his ass and reduce him to a whining boy. All the better if the ass was a white jock boi's ass. He was convinced the world owed him as much white boi pussy as he could fuck. And the dude could fuck forever.

For Jeron a white man in his path existed for the one purpose: to surrender his holes so the thug could relieve his balls. For better or worse, I'd been squarely in his path for a month, ever since that Friday night in early August, moments after I arrived at my dad's apartment building, when he'd realized I was a white boy he could abuse. Abuse and abuse, again and again. For him it was all about dominating a dude, treating him like a pussy and fucking his holes. For me, it was all about submitting to a fuck stud who'd treat me like shit, own my whore holes, and use me like a bitch. We were a perfect fit, down to Jeron thinking my ass fit his cock perfectly. I wasn't so sure about that. His prick never felt good until I could get my ass to relax. But yeah, after that it felt perfect.

Complying with his order that I expose myself, I pulled down my shorts and jock strap, releasing my reliable erection. Jeron laughed, shoving his foot into my crotch and flicking my dick so that it slapped against my flat stomach. He liked doing that after making me reveal my boner. I suppose there was something symbolic about the fact that he only touched my tool with his feet. This time he went further, jabbing the toe of his dirty sneakers in and out of my crotch at the base of my dick, causing my tool to jump repeatedly. He bent down, grabbed my face and spat, "Yo like dat boy?" I held my breath, not knowing where this was headed. Thankfully it was a warm enough night that my sac was dangling low, but even so he was perilously close to crushing my balls. That was only part of my problem. I worried that if Jeron kept it up much longer, I'd spurt hands-free. If I let that happen, I was certain I'd be licking my mess off his shoes until they looked like new.

Come to think of it, it might be worth it.

Before I reached the point of no return, Jeron grew bored jamming my junk with his shoe. Or maybe he just got tired of standing on one foot. He pulled back and hissed, "Take yo clothes off, bitch ho."

Weird. I didn't see that coming. He'd never had any interest in seeing me naked. He was barely interested in my erection, and that was only to puff up his ego by confirming that I was hard. If the thug could have left me fully clothed when he rammed his cock into my asscunt, he would have. But suddenly, it was as if he was wondering what my body looked like after using my holes for a month.

I pulled my tank top over my head and rose to my feet so I could kick off my shorts and jock strap. I was slender like virtually all high school basketball players, but I had a few more muscles and definition than most. I stood naked except for my flip flops, with my cock pointed toward the stars. The sky was darker than when we'd first ventured into the park, but even so it crossed my mind that someone might see me from the apartment building or the street.

"Turn `round bitch."

I faced away from him and he laughed, slapping my ass hard. I gasped, partly in surprise, although Jeron loved to abuse my bare buns so it shouldn't have startled me. His red handprint was probably visible on my smooth white buns, despite how dark it was getting. He snickered, spanked my bare butt three or four more times, and announced, "Dat ass nice. It okay. It do." I puzzled over what he was talking about, but not for long because once again he grabbed my arm, pinned it behind me and began shoving me farther into the park.

We arrived at our usual picnic table and he spun me around, forcing me to my knees again. "Suck Jeron. Git his big black cock soakin wet sos he kin buttfuck yo. He gon ride yo like a bitch ho. Rape yo fag ass."

I went down on him, surprised that he was already hard again. He never took long to get another erection after shooting a load down my throat, but this time I'm not certain he ever got soft. I slobbered as much spit as I could on his pole and deep throated him for a minute or two before he pulled his bone from my mouth and slapped my face with it.

"Yo want dis in yo boi pussy? Bend over an spread yo tight ass crack, whitey. Jeron gon breed yo like a cheap slut. Dat whut yo are. Jeron's white ho."

I assumed my usual position, bent over the picnic table. My bone was pressed against the mesh tabletop and Jeron spat on my exposed hole several times, circling it with his cock head. I steeled myself for the coming assault.

Over the last month, my ass had gotten somewhat used to being invaded by Jeron's tool. At least the pain didn't persist as long as it had the first time. I also had taken to playing with my hole to loosen it up before he took me, but tonight I'd enlisted a secret weapon of sorts in that endeavor. A toy: a black butt plug that I worked into my ass before driving to my dad's apartment. That was the reason I'd worn a jock strap – it was easier to get the plug in and out. I'd debated what size to buy and at the last minute decided against a really big one even though Jeron's donkey dong was huge. Even the modestly sized one was harder to work in than I anticipated. Sitting on the damn thing felt weird, but kinda good. Maybe it was just that I was super horny, anticipating getting Jeron's rod in my holes. I'd pulled the plug out just before getting out of the car after I arrived, but my ass still felt like it was a gaping hole.

Jeron powered the head of his dick past my sphincter and I yelled involuntarily. My ass hurt, revealing that the butt plug wasn't a complete success. He grabbed my long hair and pulled my head back, snarling into my ear, "Shut da fuck up, bitch. Yo Jeron's ho, an he gon' fuck yo asscunt pussy! Yo gon take it cuz he say so." He rammed his pole a couple of inches farther into me, making me gasp and my hole scream at the intrusion. He didn't let up. He continued to bore into my abused hole with his rock-hard fuck stick as I gripped the table and let out anguished groans.

Jeron pulled out and with a brutal, grinding thrust, slammed back in and penetrated me as far as he could, which was, unfortunately for my stretched hole, balls deep. So deep that his kinky pubes were crushed against the smooth skin of my ass cheeks. The throbbing pain in my ass flared. The dude had a wrecking ball swinging between his legs and used it for exactly that. For four weekends running, my butt had been his prime target.

"Yah, white boi," he hissed, "tell Jeron how much yo like his big black cock rapin' yo tight white pussy."

I didn't answer but he didn't expect me to. He knew his cock hurt from the grimace on my face, my tormented breathing, and the way my body tensed as he slammed into me. All of that greatly contributed to his enjoyment, but none of that meant that I didn't like it.

It was complicated.

I got off on how he treated me like dirt and bragged to his black bros about turning me into his personal white bitch boi and on-call cum dump. I even got off on the initial pain when his big rod breached my sphincter and forced open my hole. Once the pain subsided I got off on how great it felt to get fucked and be dominated by the black hunk. And afterwards I literally got off, jerking myself as I stuck a finger in my tender hole and then in my mouth, savoring the taste of his nut.

I confess I didn't quite understand why I got off on the pain. Maybe because of the anticipation of what was to come. Maybe because it was a reminder I was being dominated. Maybe because Jeron enjoyed it so much. Whatever.

Jeron never stuck around for long after he seeded my ass and was content to leave me bent over the picnic table, groaning like I was still in pain. I would stay stretched out with my jeans or sweats or shorts – along with my boxers – at my ankles until he swaggered away, laughing. Once he was gone I'd quickly finish myself off, spurting on the mesh table while digging nut from my hole. I even licked my own spunk off the filthy table. That bit of degradation was merely the prelude to what was to come. I'd pull my boxers and pants up, stuff my semi hard cock inside, race home to my dad's apartment and jerk off several more loads.

I kinda liked the way Jeron's thick white cum leaked from my asshole after he bred me. He liked it too, often sneering about how my ass was dripping after he'd seeded me. Cum would dribble out even after I dug some from my hole and greedily slurped it down. I loved the smell of his spunk emanating from my underwear as I climbed the steps to the apartment and couldn't get enough of it permeating my bedroom as I pumped my cock to a frantic climax. Actually, climaxes. Getting boned by Jeron was good for at least three or four loads. Some nights my dick was sorer than my ass after I finished fisting it.

Jeron settled into a deep, thorough butt-bashing, and it became apparent that the butt plug helped. Even though it hadn't been that long since he penetrated me, my ass was on the verge of relaxing enough so that getting buttfucked by the black stud would feel good – and soon after, great. I was damn close – maybe 30 seconds – to crossing the line and loving how it felt when his shaft skewered me. Still, I wasn't quite there yet and my hole ached.

But not for long. My ass finally relaxed enough that I passed into the zone where Jeron's prick felt great. Nirvana! I was ready for a long fuck session. He began breathing deeply, which signaled that he was approaching full fuck rhythm. I loved the feeling of my boi pussy being bred once he got into a good rhythm, relentlessly pounding my hole with his hard, black ramrod.

Jeron pulled all the way out, leaving my hole feeling empty, and slammed into me, grinding his cock in my hole and sending a bolt of excitement straight to my dick. "Take Jeron's big cock, white boy. Yo gud fo nuttin else. Dat ass nice tonight. Real nice. Feel real nice round Jeron's big cock."

Hmm. The stud was enjoying himself in a big way, more than normal. Maybe the difference was that he liked my ass being opened by the butt plug before he pounded me. He constantly commented about how tight it was but sometimes complained it was too tight. The plug had definitely helped lessen the pain for me and if he liked my ass a little looser, the plug was here to stay. I might have to experiment with the large one, too.

He quickened his pace, slam-fucking me. His cock was really working my boi pussy. Every time his dick thrust inside me, I felt his black eggs slapping against my own ball sac. Unless he seeded my ass damn quickly, I'd blow my wad on the picnic table, although it wouldn't be the first time he'd fucked the cum out of me. He leaned forward and grabbed my hair, wrenching my head back as he piston-drilled my hole, and snarled into my ear, "Yo ain't good for nuttin but takin' black nut in yo boi pussy. Yo nuttin but a ho cock hole. Fucking white faggot cocksucker! Arch dat back an let Jeron all da way in yo ho hole!"

I always liked this part. I did as he ordered, pushing my butt up and pressing my stomach to the table so that he could punch his way slightly farther inside me than before. He did exactly that and I was completely impaled on his rigid manhood. He knew it, too. We both let out guttural grunts and he hissed, "Dat right, bitch! Work dat ho hole. Slut want Jeron's nut bad!"

He loved calling me names as he fucked me up the butt, and I loved hearing them. The dude knew how to ring my bells with his stream of verbal abuse. I hoped he would call me his bitch again. Weird, but that word practically made me cum. Ho and asscunt weren't far behind.

As if on cue, he delivered, yelling, "Yah, Jeron own yo. Ho is Jeron's bitch!"

Those words! They went straight to my cock. God, how I loved hearing him say them! Not that I didn't love slut, cum dump and a long list of other slurs. Anybody walking through the park would have heard us, or for that matter seen us, but it wasn't the sort of park anyone walked through, even during the day, let alone at night.

Jeron fucked me violently, ramming his cock into my hole with brutal thrusts as I moaned. I knew it wouldn't be long before he came. Rather than a long fuck, this was shaping up to be a record short one, which sorta disappointed me. I could have stayed on the picnic table for a good long time.

Drops of sweat began dripping from his body and splattering onto my back as the stud worked my hole. I did what I often did when he was frantically pounding my ass: envisioning what his midnight black fuck tool looked like as it slammed into my lily-white ass. It was like I was hovering above the scene, picturing us in one of the interracial, Black N Boy porn videos I devoured on my ancient computer when my dad thought I was watching basketball games. Realizing I was being bred by a black stud always got me excited and in my mind I could almost see Jeron's onyx shaft, glistening in the dark, cutting into my ass like a lance in warm butter.

Jeron grabbed my neck with his big hand, gripping it so hard I feared I'd have bruises. "Yah, bitch," he panted, "Jeron own yo faggot white twat. Take my fucking cum in yo boi pussy!"

It was too much for me. My cock erupted and repeatedly spurted wet sprays of hot cum, shooting onto the picnic table and coating it along with my bare stomach. Hands-free, but with a major assist from the table top along with, of course, Jeron's rock hard fuck tool. Whether Jeron felt my ass clench around his cock or was already on the verge of cumming, he climaxed moments later, powering his cock into me and dumping his load deep in my guts. We both panted as his ball juice surged into my guts and he grunted, "Fuck yeah, fuck yeah, fuck yeah," over and over.

After nutting, Jeron followed the same script every time: keep his cock inside me for a couple of minutes before pulling out, slap my bare ass several times and laugh as he wandered away. But this time he grabbed my hair, yanked me up and spun me around, forcing me to my knees. My own load ran down my abs and into my crotch, but I don't think he noticed it. I'm not certain what he would have done if he had.

"Yah, white trash, clean Jeron's cock wit yo mouth. We gon' party tonight." Good chance he'd started the party – whatever he meant by that – early, because I smelled liquor on his breath. He was probably stoned, too, and he might have been on God-knows what else.

Having trained myself to plead and resist – like I said, he enjoyed it more when he thought he was forcing me – I begged, "Don't make me suck your cock after it's been in my hole!" The thug got an evil glint in his eye that I recognized, and I knew that he'd get off on making me suck him anyway. Hopefully it would become a permanent fixture of our sex in the park.

"Notta chance, bitch," he snarled, shoving his crotch into my face.

With the back of my head against the table, I was helpless. "I can't! Don't make me suck it! I'm not a cocksucker!"

That brought a big laugh along with a gratuitous slap to the face. "Jeron already done turn yo inta a cocksucker, faggot! Suck it bitch!"

I'd objected enough to satisfy his lust to dominate me, so I dutifully swallowed his semi-hard prick. It was easier to deep throat than when it was hard, but I gagged a couple of times anyway for his benefit, all the while savoring the remnants of cum that coated his cock. I got a nice taste of his fresh jizz by squeezing a final drop from his piss slit.

"Thas' nice," Jeron murmured as he watched his midnight black dong slide past my red lips and down my throat. "Yo pretty, white boy. Damn pretty face. Look even prettier wit Jeron's cock in yo mouth. Suck dat cock, bitch!"

I worked him for a couple of minutes as my spunk dried and crusted on my stomach and around my dick. All of a sudden, he pulled out and glared at me as if he was seeing me for the first time. He snarled, "Put yo jock on, faggot!" adding an exclamation point by planting a big loogy of spit on my chin. "Yo think Jeron wanna see yo bone? Hell no! Yo da party entertainment tonight. Ho gon take mo dick. Git yo faggot asscunt movin!"

Party entertainment? More dick? His various offhand comments during our suck and fuck session finally came together and it dawned on me that he had something up his sleeve. And whatever that was involved something that would be up my ass, like his buttbuster.

If that was in store, I was totally up for it.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[Note: For those interested in another scene with Jeron, he appears in part two of my story "Under the Boot" (see the links below to find it). "Under the Boot" takes place several years after this story, when Jeron is in his mid-twenties.]

Let me know if you like the tale so far! Email me at ColtonAalto@gmail.com.

Please read my other Nifty stories, which can be found in the author index under Colton. You can use this link: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/authors.html#colton. You can also locate them by searching for "Colton Aalto" using the Nifty Archive Search button, or by using this link: https://search.niftyarchives.org/?keywords=colton+aalto&sort=Relevance (I like this link better). I jump around in different Nifty categories, so you'll find a bit of everything. Enjoy!

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