Like Son, Like Father

BBC: Like Son, Like Father

Summary: Father catches son sucking BBC & gets very curious.

All participants are at least 18-years-old.

Thanks to Tex Beethoven and Robert for editing this story

BBC: Like Son, Like Father

I'd just gotten home from work and was in the kitchen drinking a glass of water when my son's phone buzzed right in front of me.

I wasn't snooping, but the message popped up so I read it.

I gasped.

Get over here and suck my cock, faggot.

What the fuck?

My son was no faggot... a word I hated for its derogatory associations. He was the starting quarterback of his high school football team, he'd been offered full ride scholarships to a dozen big name schools, and was dating, as stereotypical as you can get, his high school's head cheerleader (yes, she was a blonde-haired, blue-eyed bombshell).

He must have been wrongfully texted.

But to be sure, I called out, wanting to see how he reacted, "Ben, your phone just rang."

Ben came into the kitchen a moment later, a towel around his waist, obviously he'd been outside for a swim, and said, "Thanks, Dad."

He grabbed the phone and looked at his message.

His face went bright red. To my surprise, he shot off a quick text and said, "I need to get dressed."

"Okay," I said as he rushed out of the kitchen.

What the fuck?

That was weird.

Perhaps it was an in joke.

I waited a couple minutes until Ben came downstairs still in a hurry and said, "I just have to run out for a bit."

"Where you going?" I asked, now a little worried that the message I'd read may have been both for him and pertinent.

"Just meeting with the guys," he said. I didn't believe him.

"I was about to order pizza," I said, trying to find a way to keep him here; food usually worked. "You sure you can't hang around?"

"I'll be back in half an hour or so," he said. "If you want, I can pick it up after you order it. Get any kind you like."

"I'll just have it delivered," I said, deciding to follow him. I had his phone on GPS, although he didn't know that.

I actually didn't do it to spy on him per se, but he was pretty downcast when his mother died of cancer a couple years ago, and knowing where he was had put me at ease during that tough first year.

I hadn't used it in over a year.

"Okay, I'll be back as soon as I can," he said in a hurry.

"Okay," I said, a little crestfallen my son could be lying to me. We only had each other, and I thought he shared everything with me. Although I suppose it was a bit naïve for any Dad to think their teenage son shared everything with their old man.

"See you soon, Dad," he said, dashing out the door.

I sighed.

Was my son gay? Bi?

It just didn't make sense.

I waited a couple minutes, turned on the tracker on my phone and went to my car.

I followed him.

It was only a five-minute drive, but to one of the poorer areas on the edge of our school district.

I was a history teacher in the same school as my son. I'd also coached basketball until two years ago when I removed it from my schedule to grieve my wife's death, and I still didn't have the fire to resume coaching.

According to his phone, Ben was inside a somewhat beat-up house.

He couldn't really be in there to suck a cock, could he?

It was a question I kept repeating in my head, a question where the answer seemed obvious. No way.

Yet what other explanation could there be for the text I'd seen?

Or for his reaction to the text?

Or for his quick departure?

Or for his now being in a sketchy house in a rough part of town?

Okay, so he must be in there either sucking someone's cock or about to.

Now what?

I hadn't considered what to do after reaching his destination.

Should I wait until he came out and then confront him?

Should I barge into the house?

After running through some brief pros and cons, I made a decision.

If my son was sucking a dick, it had to be because he was being bullied, or perhaps blackmailed.

No way was he gay.

His girlfriend was a ten. I'd overheard them having sex in the house on more than one occasion. It had been very loud and therefore enthusiastic on both sides.

Nope, there had to be a different explanation than my only son being in there voluntarily.

So I got angry and out of my car, locked it (and double-checked... it was a sketchy area) and stalked up the front steps.

I considered knocking, just barging in was technically breaking and entering, but I was furious and needed to protect my son.

So I stormed through the front door, which was unlocked, entering the living room.

Where all my worst fears were realized.

My son was on his knees and bobbing on Jamal's cock slowly... Jamal a wide receiver on my son's team.

"What's going on here?" I roared. The answer was obvious, but I had to roar something.

"Isn't it obvious, Mr. Barry. Your son is sucking my cock," Jamal drawled while my son backed away in mortified shock.

"D-D-Dad," Ben stammered as he stood up, revealing Jamal's hard, midnight-black cock, which was shockingly large in both length and girth.

"Mr. Barry, you should have knocked," Jamal rebuked me, not doing anything to hide his cock; it was pointing directly at me.

"Leave, Ben," I demanded, "we'll talk about this when I get home."

"Yes, sir," Ben said, sheepishly rushing out.

"You can finish this later," Jamal called after him with a smug smile, but looking directly at me.

"Put your penis away," I demanded, Jamal never having been disrespectful to me before.

He scoffed, "First, you're an uninvited guest in my home, so I'll hide it away or not as I wish. Second, you're an adult Mr. Barry; unless we're in a science class, we grownups call it a cock."

"Jamal, I've had enough of your disrespect..." I began, but he interrupted me.

"How have I disrespected you? You're the one who barged into my home, all angry," he pointed out.

"Just put that thing away," I said, waving it away, not able to ignore its mammoth size.

"It is impressive, isn't it?" he said, acknowledging that I'd stared at it longer than I should. I'm not gay at all, but I can recognize a big cock.

"Whatever," I said nonchalantly. "Just leave my son alone."

"Hey, if he doesn't want my BBC, I know other white cock suckers who do," he shrugged, actually stroking his erect cock while speaking to me.

"That's ludicrous," I said.

"Plus, your son is eighteen; you should ask him if he wants you to keep him away from his natural place on his knees," Jamal continued.

"Just leave him alone," I repeated, the idea it was his natural place ridiculous.

"You understand that all I did was text him to come and suck me, and he hurried right over," he pointed out.

"Yeah, right. What do you have on him?" I asked, not accepting that what he'd said could be the whole story.

"Nothing, this isn't blackmail or anything," he shrugged. "He just likes BBC."

"What is BBC?" I asked, his using that acronym twice now.

"Big black cock," he explained.

"That's ridiculous," I said, no way would anyone's race matter in my son's sex life, whether he was willing or not. There were bigots in the world, but jocks are seldom among them: if they were, teamwork would suffer and we'd lose games unnecessarily.

"Check Pornhub or pretty much any porn site, and see how many videos you find showing white guys submitting to black guys," he said, still stroking his hard cock, before adding, "although most often they're older whites with younger blacks."

"That's just porn," I dismissed his point, porn often being people's darkest fantasies. I watched porn more than I used to... what with my being alone now and not willing to get back in the dating game, but I didn't pay attention to the cocks or to anyone's race, just the women: tits, ass and legs.

"Actually, the real-life cock suckers are often men your age. They suddenly begin to question their sexuality and become curious about sucking cock," he added with complete confidence, totally believing the ludicrous words coming out of his mouth. "Especially about sucking big black cock."

"Yes, because all black men have huge cocks," I said sarcastically, even though I kept taking the odd glimpse at his, a compulsion which wasn't helping my cause.

"Not all," he said, sounding like a professor, "but the general stereotype does happen to be true. On average, black men have substantially larger cocks than white men. There are certainly small black cocks and large white cocks, but those are more the exception than the rule."

"Right," I said, continuing my sarcasm, wondering why I was even allowing this conversation to continue.

"The biggest cocks in the world are from Congo," he revealed.

"And you're from Congo?" I asked sarcastically.

"No," he laughed, "but I'm flattered that you think I am."

"Not what I meant," I said. "Just leave my son alone."

"Tell you what: I won't give him the privilege of sucking my cock again until after you've sucked my cock," he said smugly.

"Perfect," I said, ignoring his smug assumption that I was interested in his cock.

"See you soon," he said as he reached for his phone.

"Unlikely," I said.

"Well, at school for sure," he pointed out.

"Yeah, whatever," I said, turning to leave, and only then realizing my cock was rock hard.

"Mr. Harper, get your ass over here," I heard Jamal order, as I reached his front door.

My eyes went big.

Mr. Harper was the football coach. An ex-NFL linebacker who took shit from no one. And that was really quick; Jamal had him on speed dial?

"Yes, sir," I heard the undeniable voice of the coach respond from Jamal's speakerphone.

I left the house, not wanting to hear anymore, and needing to get out of there.

I went to my car, backed up a few houses and waited. I wanted to see, perhaps needed to see, if Mr. Harper would really come over. This surreal day was getting even weirder.

It had sounded like his voice.

But it hadn't sounded like anything he'd ever say.

Even the word `sir' was something I'd never heard him utter.

I also needed time to think before I went home and confronted my son.

Why had I let Jamal talk to me like that? He was still in high school, for fuck's sake.

Why was I unable to avoid looking at his big black cock?

Why the fuck did I just think of it as big and black?

Why was I completely hard?

I wasn't remotely gay.

I mean, I could tell when a man was attractive, but I was never attracted to a man.

I loved women.

I loved the beauty of a woman's face: her eyes, her lips, her smile.

I loved blondes, redheads and brunettes... although I had a particular weakness for redheads.

I loved tits.

I loved a nice ass.

I loved a nice pair of legs, especially in some sort of hosiery.

I loved the entire feminine package.

And what about my son?

He definitely sucked cock: I'd just seen him doing it.

Was he gay?

Bi?

Perhaps he only sucked BBC?

Wait, what a dumb idea.

Although Jamal had denied it, maybe Ben was being blackmailed.

Or perhaps being bullied.

Bullying seem unrealistic; Ben could likely take Jamal in a fight, or at least put up a damn good battle. He had twenty pounds on him for sure.

Blackmailed. That still seemed to be the most logical explanation. But why? How?

A car drove past and parked in front of me a couple houses away, and out flew Mr. Harper.

No fucking way!

Dressed in his usual coaching attire of grey sweats, he hurried into the same house I'd left just minutes ago.

I couldn't believe it.

Not only had my son gone into that house to suck cock, perhaps willingly, so had the coach... the most machismo man I'd ever met.

It just didn't make sense.

Was he being blackmailed too?

What was worse was he was married.

To a ridiculously hot former NFL cheerleader who was a good fifteen years younger than he, and still a perfect ten.

Why would he cheat on a babe like her?

It made no sense.

I drove away and headed towards home, wondering how to approach the upcoming conversation with Ben... and how I would now see Mr. Harper or Jamal on Monday at school.

Thank God it was Friday and I had the weekend to deal with all this surrealism, almost feeling like I was being punked by the information.

I picked up a pizza and a couple of slurpees (there is nothing better than an all meat pie and a cream soda slurpee) and headed home resolved to assure Ben I wasn't mad, but we needed to talk.

I walked into the house and Ben, near tears, groaned, "I'm so sorry, Dad."

I handed him a slurpee and said calmly, "Apology accepted. Now let's both chill; we can eat and have a talk."

"Okay," he said, surprised by my calm. Truth is, I was a very calm person ninety-nine percent of the time, but when I exploded, usually when my favourite teams lost, I tended to lose it. No one yelled at the tv and the officials like I did (somehow thinking they would hear me).

Right now wasn't the time to lose it. Ben was already feeling horrible.

Now was the time to listen and understand.

We sat across from each other at the table and after we'd each eaten a slice in silence I reassured him, "I just have some questions, son. Are you gay?"

"No," he said.

"Bi?"

"Not really."

"Not really?" I asked, "Can someone be partially bi?"

"It's not that simple," he said, unable to make eye contact with me.

"Is he blackmailing you?"

"No."

"Bullying you?"

"No."

Now I was baffled. He had denied every reason I could think of for his being on his knees sucking Jamal. There was a long pause while Ben looked down and I scanned the ceiling, looking for ideas.

"I'm confused," I finally said.

"It's really hard to explain," Ben said, still unable to meet my eyes. "I don't even understand it myself."

"How long has it been going on?" I asked, thinking a bigger picture might help me to understand.

"Since January."

It was now May. "No way," I said, thinking, How could I not know this? How did he hide it?

"I'm sorry, Dad," he repeated, clearly worried about what I thought of him.

"Son, I'm not angry or disappointed," I said, trying to be as compassionate as possible, something Mary had been way better at being (God bless her soul). "Well, I can't deny I was both at first, you saw how I was. But now I'm just trying to understand."

Finally he said something that opened the conversation up a tad, as it seemed he spoke through his own disbelief, "I can't say no."

"No to what?" I asked, a bit dense.

"To Jamal," he replied in a whisper.

"Why not?"

"I don't know," he said, his tone conveying that this was a question he'd been asking himself for a while. "I just can't resist."

"Can't resist what? Him? Something about his superior attitude?"

Another long pause.

"No, just his cock," Ben finally admitted.

Silence.

I had no idea what to say to this.

I wondered what Mary would do.

Finally I asked, recalling Jamal's silly rationale, "Is it because it's big and black?"

"Yes," he admitted.

"Have you ever sucked a white one?" I asked, this conversation way out of my comfort zone. Nowhere in the books about parenting is there any advice about this.

"No," he answered.

"Just Jamal's?"

"No," he whispered sheepishly.

"But just black?" I dug down, having already thought for some reason he'd sucked more than just Jamal's.

"Yes."

My thoughts briefly returned to Jamal's cock itself. I couldn't explain my fascination with it then, but I somehow kind of understood. Yet I still kind of didn't.

"Why?" I asked.

"Dad this is so embarrassing," he said, tears beginning to stream from his eyes... the first time I'd seen that since his mother died.

"I'm not judging you son, I'm just trying to understand," I said.

After a long pause he said, "I crave it."

"Crave what exactly, his cock or the act?" I asked, the image of Jamal's humongous cock popping back into my head. I added, trying to let him know I kind of understood, "he does have a pretty big one."

"They all do," he said.

"Who?" I asked, still being really dense.

"All the black guys."

"He doesn't make you suck off other guys, does he?"

"No, no," he shook his head, "I just... he doesn't make me... it's just... he doesn't have to make me... I just... I can't resist any black cock."

"Any?"

"Any at all," he confirmed.

"And this is all of your own volition?" I asked, still clinging to the notion he was somehow being coerced into this.

"Yes," he whispered.

"How often?" I asked, not sure I wanted to know the answer.

"A few times a week," he said, before adding sounding defeated, "sometimes more."

I was speechless.

This still didn't make any sense.

"What about Amy?"

For the first time the entire conversation he looked up at me, and in terror, "She mustn't know."

"But you're still dating her?" I asked.

"Yes, I love her more than anything," he said, and then paused, sighed and added with a certain amount of despairing acceptance, "well... more than anything except sucking black cock."

"You can't hide it from her forever," I pointed out.

"I know," he sighed heavily.

"Think you can stop?"

"I've tried," he sighed again. "Every time I finish sucking one and I've left, I say it was the last time; yet a few days later, sometimes just a few hours later, I'm craving another one."

"Is it the sucking or the cum?" I asked, really trying to understand this. I understood that gay men were attracted to each other... that made sense to me. I was attracted to a shapely pair of legs in nylons and other guys were drawn to big boobs: we all had different tastes. But not being attracted to the same sex and yet craving their cock didn't make any sense.

"It's everything," he answered, which told me nothing.

"Sorry if I'm not following," I said, "but what does everything include?"

"I can't explain it, but you know when I'm in the pocket and I just naturally feel at home because I know my exact purpose?" he began, using a sports analogy.

"Of course," I nodded, having had the same experience in my basketball career.

"Well, I get the exact same feeling when I'm on my knees with a cock in my mouth," he said, and then corrected himself, "or rather with a big black cock in my mouth."

"So you said they're all big?" I asked, for some reason that's what came out of my mouth.

"Well, usually, but not always," he nodded, seeming now to be more comfortable talking about cocks, "they tend to be longer and thicker than white dicks."

"But you only suck black ones?" I asked for clarification, as if that was the main issue here.

"Yes," he nodded. He then explained, beginning to get more comfortable with this strange conversation, "there's just something majestic, compelling and almost hypnotic about a black cock."

"So preferring black over white, yellow or red," I began as I tried to understand, Jamal's cock again popping into my head, "Is like preferring redheads over blondes and brunettes."

"Essentially," he smiled for the first time in this conversation. "But way stronger. Amy has this rich red hair and I love that about her. But I still enjoy checking out a hot blonde or brunette. But even though I can't resist a black cock, I couldn't care less about other ones."

"And the cum?" I asked.

"Honestly?" he asked.

"I love you, son and I want to understand what you're thinking and feeling. We're beyond keeping any secrets," I pointed out.

He paused as if gathering his thoughts.

"Well then, I love the cum," he said. "I think it tastes a lot better than pussy, and feeling cum splattering on my face is a major turn on."

"You get turned on from taking a facial?" I asked, this not an aspect I'd considered. That he received sexual pleasure from doing this, even though it should have been pretty obvious.

"Yeah," he nodded sheepishly.

"Do you get hard when you're sucking cock?" I asked.

"Always" he repeated, again feeling guilty about his answers.

"If you could choose between having sex with Amy and sucking a black cock, which would you choose?" I asked.

"At first I thought it would be Amy," he began, not looking up at me at all again, "but Jamal proved it would be black cock."

"How?"

"He texted me while I was at the movies with Amy, demanding I come suck him in the bathroom," he said.

"And you did?"

"Yeah," he nodded, and added, "and then once he texted me to come out and suck him in his car while Amy was in my bedroom and we were making out."

"Oh my."

"And he made me choose, white cunt or black cock, his very words, at prom," he finished.

"That was just last week," I said.

Tears were streaming down his face again when he explained, "That's when he took my anal virginity and had me wear his cum in my underwear for the rest of the prom. Then afterwards when she wanted me, I had to turn her down so she wouldn't feel my sticky butt and learn what I did."

"You really let him fuck you?"

He didn't say anything.

Sucking cock was weird, but allowing a guy to fuck you was definitely gay.

Wasn't it?

"And you let him cum inside you?" I asked, bewildered.

Still nothing. All that was on his face was shame.

"Did you enjoy it?"

Tears streamed down his face.

"Son," I said tenderly, trying to be motherly during this surreal conversation, and knowing it was the right thing to say. "It's okay."

"Dad, it's not fucking okay," he snapped, standing up. "Black cock is all I can think about. I can't push it away. I can't resist it. I can't say no."

"I can help," I said.

"No, you can't," he said, shaking his head violently. "Not that I don't appreciate the offer, but I don't want you getting drawn into this too."

"I won't be," I said.

"Did you look at Jamal's cock?" he asked, a concerned look on his face.

"I saw it," I admitted, not revealing the humiliating fact that I'd gotten hard.

"No, I mean did you look at it? Did you find it hard not to look?"

"I was in a bit of awe at its size, fascinated even," I admitted.

"Then unless you stay well away, you're a goner, Dad. That's how it starts."

"What does?" I asked, not following his train of thought.

"Temptation," he said in a loud, frustrated voice.

"I'm not tempted," I said, meaning it. I was impressed by its size, but that was it. The same way I admire Dwayne `The Rock' Johnson. He's impressive, but he doesn't turn me on. (Yeah I know, that's the opposite of what I said a moment ago and it's classic denial, but this is what I was thinking at the time.)

"I didn't think I was either," he said, "but before I knew it I was sucking black cock in the football storage closet... two or three times a day sometimes."

"Two or three times a day?" I asked, unable to fathom that.

"You may as well know everything," he said, seeming to believe he was past being saved, and happy to finally be able to talk about this to someone, "I have at least a dozen guys at school I service, as well as Mr. Jones."

Although his entire admission was shocking, I asked, "The janitor?"

"He has the fattest black cock of all," he said, as if this were sufficient reason.

"He's in his sixties," I pointed out, still not able to comprehend this.

"Yeah, it takes forever to get him off," Ben said.

"I'll deal with him on Monday," I said firmly, standing up.

"NO! You won't!" Ben said firmly.

"Say what?" I asked, not accustomed to my son arguing with me. "We can't have Hector Jones going around getting students to suck him off."

"I'm a cock sucker," he declared. "It's my choice to suck his cock. He doesn't approach me, I go to him. I actually beg him to let me do it."

"Ben!" I said.

"No," he said, on a roll. "This conversation has made me accept something I've been trying to deny, and yet deep inside me I knew the truth. This isn't anybody's fault, I just love black cock."

I was speechless.

"Thanks Dad," he said after a pause.

"For what?" I asked, still overwhelmed and again wishing Mary was alive to guide me through this.

"I've been sitting on this for months," he said. "It's very lonely being a cocksucker for BBC. It's not like I can tell my buddies all about the nice cock I sucked the night before."

"Son, I don't think this is a healthy acceptance," I said, thinking I'd failed epically if this conversation were to end with his accepting he was a cock sucker.

"You accept me for who I am, right Dad?" he asked, a sudden vulnerability on his face.

"Of course," I said.

"And I can tell you anything?" he asked.

"Of course."

And you won't judge me?"

"Now that I've had some time to think it through, of course, son," I said, pulling him in for a hug. I would have to do some research. Have to see if there was a way to help with his addiction. There was help for alcoholics, drugs and even sex addicts... there also had to be a way to help him out of this addiction.

"Thanks, Dad," he said. "I still hope you don't get sucked in as it can happen in a flash and there is no going back, but you've helped me see that all the stress I've been going through is because I've been fighting who I am. If I crave BBC all the time, it's not as if I can't get any."

His sudden acceptance was shocking. This wasn't the purpose of the conversation for him to accept he is a cock sucker for BBC. It was to save him from it.

As I tried to figure out how to nicely say this still wasn't a healthy lifestyle choice je added, "I love you Dad."

"I love you too, son," I said, tears beginning to well in my eyes. His reaction was so far from what I'd intended, but if he was happy... I don't know.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door.

He said, "That's Amy. We were going out to a party tonight."

"Great," I said, hoping Amy could keep his focus on her.

"Thanks again, Dad," he said, before heading to the door.

Forty-five minutes later I was alone on my computer doing research.

I read a lot of articles that shocked me... again.

Titles like: Straight Men are a Lot More Bisexual Than You think; What is the Psychological Need to Suck a Man's Cock and Does Sucking Cock Make Me Gay?

The key things I learned included: 1. More men fantasize about sucking cock than I could have possibly imagined. 2. For many men, it's an outlet for a secret submissive side. It's nothing more than the need to serve that causes a male to want to suck another man's cock. It has NOTHING (the article stressed nothing) to do with sexual orientation. Many guys think if they suck cock they are a fag. You are only a fag if you take it in the ass and want to have relationships with men. You are however, bi. A submissive male who only sucks another guy's cock is serving. He is pleasing.

I also learned about the Kinsey Scale, which describes a range from straight to gay. 0 Exclusively heterosexual 1 Predominantly heterosexual, only incidentally homosexual 2 Predominantly heterosexual, but more than incidentally homosexual 3 Equally heterosexual and homosexual 4 Predominantly homosexual, but more than incidentally heterosexual 5 Predominantly homosexual, only incidentally heterosexual 6 Exclusively homosexual X No socio-sexual contacts or reactions

This relaxed me a bit as even after the talk with my son and his surprising epiphany, perhaps he wasn't gay... he could possibly just be just a one or two on the scale.

I was also comforted by the idea that sucking cock could be just the expression of a natural submissive side. My son was a good guy, and thus his willingly serving someone else, even sexually, made sense to me.

The analysis of straight guys sucking cock was further expounded in an article called 7 Reasons Straight Guys Suck Dick, which said that more straight guys suck cock than anyone thinks. The author stressed how nothing is hotter for a straight guy than sucking that first cock. The seven reasons given seemed mostly ridiculous, but here are a couple that I found quite astonishing: 1. Straight Guys are Curious: this includes wondering what a dick would feel like in their hand, in their mouth, and the sensation of it hardening inside them. He even stressed how men are wired to be competitive, which includes being the best at sucking dick. 2. Straight Guys Like Getting Blown: in retrospect this is the most obvious thing ever, as most men prefer a blow job over vaginal sex. Many men don't see oral sex as gay since it isn't `going all the way', e.g.. a cock penetrating one of a woman's other two holes.

What made all this particularly interesting was that it wasn't about race... just psychology. But Ben's plight was definitely about race as well.

So I googled Why do white men suck black cock' and found a website called iloveinterracial, and a forum called white men suck black cock'.

There were forty-seven pages of comments from both white and black men. The long-winded question was: What I'd like to know is what makes a white man suck black cock? I'm not talking about cuckolds or homosexual guys, but straight guys sucking the odd black cock and do they swallow the black man's cum and do they like to get a blowjob themselves.

Comments that intrigued me included: -I think they feel inferior and do it to pay tribute so something so superior.

(This intrigued me, as Jamal had said something similar.)

• The first time a black man put his hands on my shoulders and gently pushed me to my knees and told me to suck his cock I wasn't gay and had never thought of sex with a man before and I knew it was wrong for some people, but there was something inside me that made this the most erotic encounter I had ever had and I not only desired to suck his rock hard huge shiny black cock, I was also drawn to it like it was programmed into my DNA. I felt just like when I knew I was going to get some pussy for the first time. This time I knew I was his inferior and would be sucking and swallowing his hot cum in my belly, it made me feel so nasty, and I felt so horny. Afterwards I felt so degraded and humiliated to have sucked his big black cock off and swallowed all of his cum. As he stood above me with his superior large cock dripping cum on my face, he had me look in his eyes, he told me that I now knew what I was, and he expected me to always treat black men like the kings they are. I'm sure it's either in my DNA or I have been brainwashed. I don't care which, as long as I know I do my best to please the superior black man.

(This fascinated me, as it was from an actual white guy. He sounded a bit like my son... unsure why he did it... but he did it... and he loved it. And I didn't detect any shame in what he said.)

-I suck black cock because I like to. It turns me on. It's taboo...or was....it's considered pretty normal now. It's different and many times bigger. I get a kick out of doing stuff I'm not supposed to do. It's one thing to be a man and suck dick. But to be a white man and suck black dick is even more, and it doesn't matter to me that some people look down on a white man sucking black dick and eating their cum.

(I wondered if that was true. Was it now pretty normal for a white guy to suck a black cock? Until today I'd had no idea there even was such a sexual subculture.)

-I am a 54 year old happily married (26 years) father of 2, consider myself straight and love to suck big black cock.

(Wow! A married guy with kids who considers himself straight and yet will suck a black cock. Evidence was continuing to pile up that my son wasn't alone in his feelings.)

• Sucking black cock emasculates us white boys. It goes against most everything we were taught growing up. So, when a straight guy bends his knees and sucks a big black cock, that act of submission reinforces his beta status. When the wife or gf watches, he is shamed even more, and knows he can no longer deny he is inferior to the superior black man who just dominated him. It's a power play. It works.

(More about the white guy's mindset, which kept me intrigued. And this guy does feel shame but considers it a plus. Could history be a factor in this?)

• I am not gay I am bisexual (orally only) I am a 50 y/o white man. I love women. I love the feel of a hot tight pussy and certainly love eating pussy and anything else you can think of while having sex with a woman. But I must say I do suck Black cock and Black cock only. When I see a black cock I just drop to my knees completely powerless to turn away from it however I am the opposite with white men. I love to swallow black seed and the size of most black men's cocks are great and of course the Taboo factor plus being in the closet is very exciting.

(Could it be that simply some intangible power possessed by black cock is what captivates white men? This guy is powerless in the face of black cock but only black cock... just like my son.)

-I'm a straight white man in every respect but one; 2 - 4 times a year if I'm single I'll find a bbc to deepthroat on craigslist. Only black men. Their cocks are big, long, look beautiful & silky when they are shining with my saliva... It's taboo. It's exciting. Years ago, I caught an ex of mine watching a porn with a little pigtailed white girl being gang-banged & dominated by two black guys with HUGE cocks. At first I was horrified that this is what got her off. In order to understand her fetish I began to watch similar videos. As time passed I realized I LOVED the vids where the white girl deepthroats & submits to huge black cocks. After a while I began to fantasize that I was the girl. I borrowed my ex's 8" dildo & began to deepthroat it while I watched the videos, I'd come with the dildo buried all the way down my throat. Then I answered a craigslist ad, deepthroated a 9" black cock till he shot into my stomach. Amazing. Loved it ever since.

(This one intrigued me too. What fascinated me was this circuitous route of how a straight guy ended up sucking a black cock; for some reason I wanted to read more of these.)

I went through all forty-seven pages and was rock hard throughout. That should have scared me, yet now I needed to read some stories about white straight men sucking cock.

I learned there were thousands of such stories.

I read a couple dozen. Each one drew me in some more.

My cock raged.

Before I knew it... two hours had passed... and I kept stroking my cock while reading story after story.

The idea of sucking cock was now so intriguing.

So captivating.

Then I came buckets as I suddenly imagined being on my knees before Jamal.

As I recovered, I cursed myself.

What the fuck?

Why did I read so much of this?

Why did it turn me on?

I logged out of my laptop and went to shower, cursing myself for my weakness.

.....

I woke up the next morning refreshed.

What a crazy dream!

I got out of bed and saw my phone flashing. I checked my messages and was suddenly wide awake without my usual morning cup of java.

It was a text.

From an unknown number.

Hi, future cock sucker. Here is a video of your son for you.

Shit, everything yesterday had been real.

And there was no way I'd be able to delete this vid without watching it.

I sat back in my bed and pressed play.

"Hungry for my cock?" a male voice said, his voice slightly covered to disguise who it was, even though it was obviously Jamal, as the camera looked down at my son on his knees.

"God, yes," my son responded with lust both in his eyes and in his tone.

"Where's your girlfriend?" Jamal asked as he adjusted the phone to show me his cock. Hard and big. No doubt it was Jamal's, his cock now forever ingrained in my head.

"Still downstairs at the party," he answered sheepishly.

"Think she would like this cock?"

"Probably," Ben surprised me by saying.

"If you could only have this black cock or Amy's pink pussy," Jamal asked, "which would you choose?"

"Your big, fat, juicy, black cock," Ben answered, the camera back on him.

"Would you rather have my cock in your faggot hole or your cock in your girlfriend?"

"I'd take your big black cock pounding my boi pussy," Ben answered, and after all my reading yesterday I could tell that degrading himself was getting him excited.

"I'd love to let you suck my cock, but I promised your Dad I wouldn't let you have it again until after he sucked it," Jamal revealed.

"No," Ben gasped.

I wasn't sure whether it was the devastation of being denied the black cock he craved, or because he'd inadvertently drawn me into this twisted game.

"Don't worry," Jamal reassured, moving his phone back to his cock. "Your Dad is a born cock sucker. I saw it in his eyes."

"Please leave him out of this," Ben pleaded.

"He brought himself into it when he stormed into my house."

"I'll do anything."

"I know you will," Jamal said smugly. "But for now you're to go back to your girlfriend while I summon Jordan to come and do what you're no longer allowed to do."

"Please, I need your cock so bad," Ben pleaded desperately.

"Sorry, you can blame Daddy dearest," Jamal shrugged, his phone still framed on his big, black, juicy cock.

Did I just call it juicy?

Fuck?

"You didn't tell him you wouldn't fuck my cunt," Ben pointed out desperately, his desire for black cock just like so many of the men's I read about last night.

Jamal laughed, "That's true."

"Please, please, just fuck my cunt and cum inside it," Ben begged like a bitch in heat.

"Tempting," Jamal chuckled. "But too bad... you need to be punished for your Dad's actions. Now go."

"Yes, sir," Ben said, completely deflated, using the same tone he had often used on me on punitive occasions.

"Don't worry," Jamal said, stroking his cock, "your Dad will soon be on his knees begging for this."

The video ended.

I lay there paralyzed.

My cock ached.

Fuck, why am I hard?

I'd just watched my son be humiliated.

Yet what was etched in my head was Jamal's big cock.

Fuck!

I flipped open my laptop and searched pornhub for black cock videos.

I pressed play on one and watched as a white slut bobbed on a big black cock... a BBC.

In the past I'd always focused on the girl, but this time I couldn't help but focus on the BBC.

It was so majestic.

It was so long and thick.

It was so black.

I watched her head bobbing on the BBC.

I looked at the glistening shine from her saliva as she stroked the fat cock... so fat she couldn't even wrap her hand completely around it.

I watched in awe as he exploded his load all over her pretty face, but instead of watching her expression and her face getting coated, I watched the black cannon blasting out rope after rope of cum.

I clicked on another clip... then another... choosing between thousands of clips of white women sucking and getting fucked by big black cock.

During every video I was transfixed on the black cock.

Not the black man.

The black cock.

And sometimes on his firm, dominant voice.

When a black man guided a white woman onto her knees, my cock flinched.

When a black man face fucked a white mouth, I got excited.

When a black man shot his load, I watched in transfixed awe.

I also discovered a website called Blacked, where every scene was one or more white women sucking and fucking black cock, and although the plots were usually atrocious, I didn't care because all my attention was on the black cock.

I spent over an hour and a half watching black cock before I couldn't take it any longer, and went back to watch the video of my son's humiliation again.

I took in his desperate hunger.

I heard Jamal's smug confidence.

I watched my son begging for cock.

I stared at Jamal's big black cock.

I came... hard... and in my imagination my cum had become Jamal's spurting cum, and I was the one on my knees sucking that BBC. I was the one taking that load down my throat or all over my face, shooter's choice.

It was then... as I came like a pathetic faggot... that I realized I too was a submissive... just like my son... just like all those other white men.

I knew without a doubt if I was put in that situation again with Jamal, I'd succumb.

Fuck!

I had to control this weakness.

I had to be strong not only for myself, but for my son.

It was no life to be addicted to BBC.

It was no life having to be humiliated like my son.

It was no life to be at the whim of a black man and his black cock.

Fuck!

I cleaned up my mess, logged out and showered again.

I went downstairs for breakfast and was pleasantly surprised to see Amy at the kitchen table, having bacon and eggs with Ben.

I greeted, "Morning."

"It's actually afternoon, Dad," Ben said, pointing to the clock.

12:10.

Fuck, how long did I watch those BBC videos?

"So this is what it's like to be you and waste half the day away," I joked.

"Refreshing, isn't it?" he smiled, showing no hint of the video he made last night. One, I assumed, he had no idea was being filmed for my benefit.

"It kind of is," I laughed.

"I made extra bacon and eggs for you, Mr. Barry," Amy said in her sweet voice as she got up and went to serve me a plate.

"Thanks, Amy," I said, unable to fathom a world where Ben would choose black cock over her, as I admired her long legs and tight ass in a pair of short shorts. (I'm not complaining, but I've never figured out why women's trousers often hug their asses like a second skin while men's don't. Think it's on purpose?) Yes, she's my son's girlfriend, but hot is hot. "But don't worry, I can make my own plate."

"I'm already up," she pointed out.

"She isn't going to stop," Ben advised me.

"Just like your mother," I laughed as I sat down. Mary had always made sure to prepare a big breakfast, as she believed it was the most important meal of the day.

I, on the other hand, always believed supper was.

"So how was last night?" I asked, wanting to see Ben's response.

"Great," Amy interjected. "It was a pretty crazy party."

"You two behaved?" I asked.

"Just the usual crystal meth and teen orgy," Ben quipped.

"So the normal?" I went along, but Amy scolded Ben.

"Ben, don't be ridiculous."

"True, there was no crystal meth," Ben smirked, his usual playful sarcastic banter on full display... no hint of what had actually happened last night, or what had almost happened.

"I remember those weekly orgies," I said, sounding reminiscent.

"You two," Amy shook her head as she placed the plate down in front of me.

"So a good night overall?" I asked.

"It was a blast," Amy said, which gave me a visual popup in my head of a BBC shooting cum.

I shook my head to get the image out of my head.

"You okay, Dad?" Ben asked.

"Yeah, yeah," I nodded, "just still a little tired, I guess."

"You should have slept until two," Ben said.

"Hurry up, Ben," Amy said. "We have to leave soon."

"Where you two off to?" I asked.

"Shopping for bikinis for the lake next weekend," Ben said as if he was being tortured.

"Don't pretend you don't love watching me model bikinis for you," Amy teased, giving him a shoulder rub.

"The first fifty, yes," he said playfully.

"I don't try on fifty," she said.

"Sorry, seventy," Ben corrected.

"Be good," she teased, "or I'll buy a one piece."

"God, no!" Ben gasped.

"Young love," I laughed, thinking how normal this conversation was. Just two teens in love. No evidence that my son would rather suck a BBC or even take one up his ass than watch her try on bikinis... which for the record, I'd find fucking hot.

Shit, I really do need to get laid.

They left; I finished breakfast.

I did the dishes.

I did the chores: laundry, cleaning the house and an oil change for the car.

By the time I was done it was supper... indeed the day is shot when you don't get up until the afternoon.

I texted Ben, who said they were going out for supper, so I barbequed a steak for myself, had a beer and then sat in the backyard and enjoyed the summer sun approaching the horizon.

I opened my ipad and checked my emails and was about to open a book when I felt myself instead googling more BBC stories.

I knew I should push the temptation out of my head, but before I knew it, I was reading tales of white men sucking black cock.

One that really stood out was the silly titled `Becoming a Cock Slave Ch. 01' by John Hamilton. It was a blunt story of a black teen hitchhiker who convinces a white older guy who picked him up that all white men are cock suckers, and before you know it another straight white man is a cock sucker for BBC.

In the heat of the moment, I wanted just that.

To be forced to suck cock.

I didn't want to do it on my own accord.

I wanted to be dominated.

To be forced.

To be turned into a cock sucker for BBC.

Yet, I knew I couldn't... knew I shouldn't... I already saw the impact such a decision had made on my son's life.

I couldn't be at the whim of black cock.

I especially couldn't be at the whim of black teen cock.

Yet I kept reading more stories until I received a text.

I checked it.

Another blocked number.

If you're getting hungry for BBC, which we both know you are, go to pornhub and search BBC hypnosis videos and begin your training to be the good submissive white cock sucker you were born to be.

Born to be?

Fuck you.

His words only doubled my resolve to be strong.

I closed my ipad.

I went inside and turned on a sports channel.

I was watching a ballgame and as I did, a thought popped into my head as I watched a black batter waiting for a pitch. I wonder how big he is.

Fuck!

Fuck!

Fuck!

What the hell is coming over me?

My cock was getting hard from watching baseball.

I grabbed myself another beer and focused on the game itself.

The game ended and I was now a little drunk and before I knew it I was in my room, on my laptop and clicking on the pornhub search Jamal had sent me.

Why?

No idea.

Could I control myself?

It seemed not.

So I searched exactly as I'd been told and found quite a few videos.

I clicked on one.

Girls getting fucked by black cock.

Messages flashing by about obedience, submissiveness, and something called sissification. (I later did a side search and learned it was about men making themselves as much like women as possible, but without hormones or surgery, just costuming, makeup, wigs, and most of all, feminine behaviour. Basically it was psychological, but often very immersive and heavy on the obedience, submissiveness and degradation.)

By the time the first video was done, I was rock hard.

In truth, I was rock hard the moment black cocks started popping onto the screen.

I clicked on another video called BBC Sissy.

So many big fat juicy black cocks flashed on the screen.

Being sucked.

Fucking.

Jerking.

Exploding.

It was complete hypnosis as I was drawn completely into the ultimate pendulum... a big cock swaying and pumping.

Glistening with saliva.

Standing erect with determination.

Pointing directly at me as if saying, Get on your fucking knees sissy, and suck me.

There was a voiceover spoken by a sexy feminine voice as if to brainwash me that this was normal... and I was captivated by each spoken word... every one... all while a plethora of black cocks paraded before my eyes.

Worship me.

Bow down to me.

Become the cock sucker you were born to be.

It's in your DNA.

It's who you are.

A cock sucker.

A cum bucket for BBC.

A sissy.

A faggot.

A bottom boi for BBC.

You suck cock.

You take it in the ass... your pussy... your boi hole.

You swallow.

You take facials.

You take bukkakes.

(I also had to look up what that term meant, and it only made my cock ache more at the idea of loads splattering endlessly on my face.)

You love black cock.

You love black cum.

You obey black men.

You worship black dick.

You live to serve BBC.

Say after me: I am a cock sucker for superior black cock.

Robotically I repeated the words verbatim, staring at a black cock swaying like an elephant's trunk: "I am a cock sucker for superior black cock."

I was born to be on my knees worshipping big black cock.

I mindlessly repeated the words as I watched a cute blonde bobbing on a fat black cock as if her life depended on it, and I wondered if perhaps it did: "I was born to be on my knees worshipping big black cock."

I am a white sissy who loves black cum on my face or in my mouth.

The term sissy meant the results of sissification, dressing as a girl etc., and the idea of wearing pantyhose turned me on (something I'd done a few times back as a teenager, but never since), I was fascinated with the idea of feeling cum hitting my face or landing tastefully (not in the normal sense of the word) in my mouth. This idea, of course, was enhanced by the plethora of black cock cannon blasts onto pretty girls' faces or into pretty girls' mouths. So as I watched BBC after BBC explode their white creamy treat (did I just call it a treat?), I repeated the required words: "I am a white sissy who loves black cum on my face or in my mouth."

I then paused the video.

I went to my wife's dresser drawer, which hadn't been touched since her passing, and found a pair of pantyhose.

I got undressed and put them on... which is a bit of work. Stretch them out a bit first, roll the first stocking up to the toes making sure it's lined up right, then slowly pull the stocking up adjusting at the knee, then do the same with the other leg. Slowly pull both sides up to your waist to cover your ass.

These were a bit tight... not surprisingly my wife had been thinner than me... but they did fit. My cock was pressed perfectly against the sheer hosiery.

I moved my hands up and down my legs, always loving the sheer feel of nylons... something I'd done to my wife at some point almost every day of our life together.

God, I missed her.

But I also missed the relaxing, cock-pulsing pleasure of rubbing my hands on nylons... even if they were on my own legs this time.

I went back to the video and pressed play.

I crave black cock.

I repeated, staring at five massive black cocks all being stroked in front of a chubby girl: "I crave black cock."

I crave BBC cum.

I repeated the simple phrase as I watched all five of those cocks explode all over the closed-eyed, opened-mouthed girl: "I crave BBC cum."

I crave being in my natural submissive position on my knees.

As two girls knelt before a lone but mighty BBC I repeated the words, wondering what it would be like to be in that position myself, so I got down on the floor and knelt on my knees as I continued watching the video: "I crave being in my natural submissive position on my knees."

I am a cock sucker for every BBC.

I watched as one by one, dozens of BBCs flashed before me, each of them so captivatingly enticing as I repeated the words as ordered: "I am a cock sucker for every BBC."

Because I am inferior to BIG... BLACK... COCK.

At the moment that was exactly how I felt. It seemed every BBC was much longer than my five-inch cock, much thicker than mine, and completely inexplicably, it was the most beautiful sight in the world. I know I sounded gay, I sounded like a faggot, but that was how I felt as I admitted my current truth: "Because I am inferior to BIG... BLACK ...COCK," as I paused for a couple of seconds between each of those final descriptive words.

I was rubbing my cock through my pantyhose... getting close to coming... when my phone brought me out of my submissive trance.

I paused the video.

I answered the phone.

It was Dave, one of my best friends.

"Hey!" I said, coming further back to reality.

"Hey, yourself. Where are you?" he asked, as I realized I was supposed to be at his house.

"Shit, I lost track of time," I said, which was the understatement of the year.

"Get your ass over here," he said. "And bring along a case of beer for being such a dumb ass."

"Yeah, yeah," I agreed putting my pants on over the pantyhose before I realized it. "I'm on my way."

"Hurry the fuck up," he said, hanging up on me.

I left the pantyhose on, threw some socks on to hide them, and headed out... thinking this call had been fate.

I had to man up.

I was late for Saturday's poker night because I was watching BBC porn.

I had to control these inclinations that were getting so intrusive in my life.

I drove to the liquor store.

Picked up the beer.

Arrived at Dave's house, where I was razzed and had to shotgun a beer and bolt two shots to catch up.

And for a couple of hours, I forgot about my weird weekend.

I drank.

I played poker.

I shot the shit.

It was a typical boy's night.

I was reaching for some chips from a high shelf when Dave asked confusedly, "Are you wearing pantyhose?"

"Um, yeah," I said, instantly embarrassed.

"Why?" he asked.

I came up with a good lie, impressive since I was quite drunk, "This may sound weird, but it's a way to still feel close to Mary."

"Oh, yeah, okay," he said. I'm not sure if he believed me or not, but it wasn't something to argue without looking like a dick. "How are you doing?"

"Ups and downs," I said, that being the truth.

"We should do a Vegas trip," he suggested.

"Yeah, we really should," I agreed, something we did yearly... just the boys... but hadn't since Mary's death.

"Give me a date, and I'll make it work," he said.

"Will do," I nodded, and then added, "but enough of this touchy-feely stuff. I've got to make my money back."

"Well, that ain't going to happen," he said, punching my arm.

"I just need to break even," I persevered.

"Good luck with that," he laughed as we headed back to the living room.

A beer later I poker-faced my way up to a large pot with a full house, and indeed did break even. But I was getting really tired and decided to call an uber to get home since I was quite drunk... when I noticed my phone had a couple of messages.

Worried they were from Jamal, I headed to the washroom, since I had to take a piss anyway.

I closed the door and checked the messages while I pissed (see, men can multitask too).

I somehow knew it wold be from Jamal.

The first was simply a picture of a BBC.

The other was a question: Hungry? If so, I expect you at my house at 1:00 AM. Backyard. In case you're worried... it will be our secret. Just a new cock sucker discovering his purpose.

I sighed.

Fuck!

As I finished pissing, I began to get hard again.

Fuck!

I mindlessly went back to his dick pic.

Fuck, it looked appetizing.

Being drunk only made my resistance weaker.

I was instantly horny.

I pulled my pantyhose, I mean my wife's pantyhose, back up and washed my hands as my phone buzzed again.

I looked at the message: COCKSUCKER! I know you are probably dithering right now. But let's make this simple so you don't procrastinate. Be at my house at 1:00AM or I'll never give you the privilege of servicing my cock. EVER!

Fuck!

My cock flinched in my pantyhose.

I clicked on the uber app and asked for a pick up... entering the street Jamal was on. Unsure of the exact address.

I pressed send and got a four-minute pick up time. Not much time to change my mind.

I went downstairs and said, "Sorry, guys, I really need to get home."

"Got some new pussy?" Andrew, the dumb ass of the group, asked.

"Andrew!" Dave and Jerry both scolded.

"What?" Andrew said oblivious to why that was insensitive.

"Next week you host," Dave reminded me.

"For sure," I nodded as I checked my phone. The uber was two minutes away. "I'll come by with Ben tomorrow to get the car."

"Sure," Dave nodded, and I walked out.

I waited a couple of minutes, looking at my phone. 12: 40. I'd likely arrive a few minutes early.

Still time to change my mind.

Did I want to suck his cock? Yes.

Should I suck his cock? No.

Yes.

No.

Yes.

No.

Yes.

No.

The moral code versus my recent insatiable hunger argued inside me with arguments on each side, although for most of them I didn't know which was which.

Sucking his cock just once would give him all the power.

Sucking his cock just once would answer my curiosity.

Sucking his cock just once would make me a cock sucker.

Sucking his cock just once might get it out of my system.

Sucking his cock just once would allow my son to resume sucking his cock.

Sucking his cock just once would change everything.

The uber arrived and I got in.

At 12:50 I arrived at his street.

Hungry.

Horny.

Confused.

Conflicted.

There was a clump of vehicles adjacent to his house.

Both the porch lights and the inside ones were on.

He wasn't alone.

From the noise, it was a boisterous party in there.

Fuck!

God, I wanted to suck Jamal's cock.

God, I needed to suck his cock.

Yet I knew I shouldn't.

Knew I should call the uber back.

Go home.

Go to bed.

Stay straight.

Be morally right.

I got another text: Cock is hard and loaded and I'm in the backyard. Are you keeping your reservation, or am I summoning one of your colleagues?

Now or never.

Curious.

Drunk.

Horny.

Submissive.

Tempted.

Eve took a bite out of the juicy apple of sin, and I was about to take a suck off of a big juicy chocolate treat.

My body overrode my mind (my legs and cock deciding on my behalf) as I felt myself walking towards the house. Yep, definitely a wild party. Was Ben in there? Even if so, I wouldn't be barging through the door this time.

I turned to the side and walked into the backyard, my cock raging, my mouth watering and my head spinning.

The gate clanged shut behind me so loudly that I jumped.

"Right on time," Jamal said, sitting in a lawn chair.

I didn't say anything.

What was there to say?

"Hungry?" he asked.

"Yeah," I whispered sheepishly.

"For what?" he asked, smugly.

"I don't know," I lied.

"Come to me," he ordered.

I obeyed, walking to him.

"Drop."

I did.

"So why are you here?" he asked.

"Don't make me say it," I said, humiliation burning through me... yet all I wanted at the moment was for him to fish out that cock.

"Okay, then show me what you want," he said gently, almost kindly.

I was thankful he wasn't going to humiliate me. I soundlessly moved my hands to his shorts and unbuttoned them.

He lifted his ass up as I unzipped his shorts and I pulled them down.

Like me, he wasn't wearing underwear.

Although he wasn't in pantyhose.

"Take your own pants down, too," he ordered, as I stared at his BBC; it wasn't hard at all.

"I'd rather not," I said, not wanting to let him see I was wearing pantyhose.

"You're here because you need to submit. Allowing you to disobey me would not be a good start."

"Couldn't I just suck you?" I asked, sounding pathetic.

"A cock sucker does as he is told, and believe me when I say deep down, you wouldn't have it any other way," he explained. "So take your pants off. I want to see if your tiny white cock is hard."

Strangely, he sounded more like a therapist than a dom. A pushy therapist, but still.

"It is," I admitted.

"Show me," he ordered.

I sighed.

I stood up, unbuckled my belt, unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them down.

He chuckled. "Cute."

"I wear them to remember my wife," I justified.

"Sure you do," he said, before adding, giving me a compliment of sorts, "Decent sized cock for a white guy, though."

"Thanks," I said, unsure what else to say.

"So Mr. James Barry, are you ready to become a cock sucker?"

"Yes," I nodded lowering myself back down before him, my pants around my ankles.

"Yes, what?" he asked, exerting his power over me and yet somehow seeming supportive as if a black teen Dr. Ruth for straight men discovering who they really are.

I stared at his cock.

I wanted to see it at full mast.

I wanted to feel it harden in my mouth.

I needed to suck it.

I was already on my knees.

I was already kneeling before him with a hard on wedged against my pantyhose.

Any pretense I wouldn't do this had long gone... the line was already crossed.

I replied, "Yes, I'm ready to suck your BBC."

`What does that acronym stand for?"

"Big black cock," I answered, staring at it like Indiana Jones stared at the Holy Grail.

"And you want to suck my big black cock?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?" he continued exercising his power over me... my humiliation.

"Yes, I want to suck your big, fat cock until you come all over me or inside my mouth," I replied, embellishing my litany even further... giving in completely.

"Just like your son?"

"Yes, just like my cock sucking son," I added, not sure why I decided to belittle him further .

"Suck it, Mr. James Barry," he ordered as if by doing so I was signing a contract.

"Thank you," I responded ridiculously as I reached for his flaccid cock.

"You're welcome, Mr. Cock Sucker," he chuckled, amused by my overly submissive demeanor.

Shame and lust burned through me, lust winning once again, as I stroked his thick cock, leaned forward and took it in my mouth.

It felt so weird.

Yet so natural.

Although I'd never sucked a cock before, nor even considered it before yesterday (God, was it only yesterday I walked in on my son with this BBC in his mouth?), this action seemed to be in my DNA.

To bob.

Slowly.

To feel it hardening in my mouth.

Like magic.

Because of me.

It was growing in my mouth.

Stretching my mouth.

I was in awe of his cock.

In awe of my act.

My cock rock hard in my pantyhose. Yes, mine. Mary didn't need them anymore.

Horny as fuck.

Hornier than I can ever remember being.

"That's it, Mr. BBC Cum Bucket," he said in that firm masculine stereotypical black voice which made me oddly think of Samuel L. Jackson in Shaft. I bet he has a big one, I thought to myself, and then couldn't believe what had popped into my head.

I kept bobbing until it was completely hard inside my mouth. Or by now only partly in my mouth. I took it out briefly and said, in fascination of its dark powerful beauty, "Your cock is so big."

"You like my black cock?"

"I love it," I answered in a cock daze.

"You'll be my personal cock sucker whenever I need you?" he asked, again like a litany, as I stroked his now fully erect almost ten-inch cock (I would guess)... double the length of mine.

I didn't think of future consequences, didn't ponder the risks of his using me at school or perhaps in front of my son; no, all I was thinking was how badly I wanted this cock right now, and knew I'd want it again. I replied unconditionally, "Yes."

"Yes, what?" he asked, standing up.

"Yes, I'll be your personal cock sucker any time, any place," I agreed.

"I plan to fuck that ass of yours too," he revealed, as he slid his hard cock back into my mouth.

I was so happy he did.

I desperately wanted to suck that lovely cock.

I also wanted to avoid agreeing to being sodomized, which at the moment if pressed, I would have agreed to with without hesitation.

I began bobbing faster... gradually taking more and more of the teenager's BBC into my mouth.

"You're a natural, Mr. Barry," he said, using my real last name so formally being a reminder of our reversal of the normal student-teacher hierarchy. "It's hard to believe you haven't sucked a cock before."

I kept bobbing, wanting to be a good cock sucker.

Wanting to get his load.

"I'm going to fuck this face at school, shoot my load all over you in front of your faggot son, and bend you over so I can pound that back-door pussy of yours," he continued his verbal humiliation.

I made it worse by moaning each time he listed a future degradation.

I moved my free hand to my raging cock.

"Did I give you permission to touch your tiny dick?" he scolded, pulling his cock out of my mouth.

Desperately I apologized, "I'm so sorry, sir. Sucking your big, juicy, fat, black cock has me so pathetically horny."

"Because you're my cock sucker?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm your eager cock-sucking cum bucket," I agreed, adding to my own personal patheticness (Yes, I know that isn't a word, but it seems to work better than pathetictivity).

"And you're my faggot?" he pushed on.

"Yes, your sissy faggot," I agreed. With each humiliation, I paradoxically felt more comfortable in my own skin.

"You'll wear pantyhose every day from now on: at school, with your buddies, anytime you're not bathing, sleeping or fucking," he ordered. "For your late wife's sake, of course," he added ironically.

"Yes, sir," I agreed, that being something I would eagerly do.

"And silky pink panties," he added.

"Yes, sir," I repeated, the idea actual a turn on.

He slid his cock back in my mouth and slowly face fucking me said, "You only get to come after all the black cocks around willing to deposit their load in or on you are finished, is that clear?"

He pulled out as I gagged a bit and repeated my new mantra, "Yes, sir."

"But you may come from an ass fucking anytime you can ," he added, sliding his cock back in my mouth.

I furiously began bobbing... wanting every inch in my mouth even though I wasn't sure that was a possibility.

Just over half in, and I gagged a little.

"Don't worry, Mr. Black Cock Lover," he said, "with enough practice you'll be able to take it all."

I kept bobbing.

"You've heard the saying before," he added, "a big black cock a day, keeps the white sissy cock sucker gay."

I would have smirked if I could as he played on the original meaning of gay... meaning happy.

As I bobbed, once again my mind went blank... my only purpose being to please... to get that load of cum out of those big black balls.

I wasn't a teacher.

I wasn't a dad.

I wasn't even an adult.

I was a cock sucker.

And somehow that just made sense.

I got almost seven inches in my mouth before he pulled out and informed me, "The first load always goes on the face."

Like a cum hungry slut, I begged, "Yes please, shoot that big load all over my face."

"God, you're a good faggot," he chuckled, as he rapidly stroked his cock in a final sprint.

"For BBC," I pointed out, opening my mouth wide, hoping to catch some cum in my mouth... curious what cum would taste like.

"Of course," he said, then grunted, adding, "close your mouth," before the first cannon blast scored a direct hit in my open right eye as I obeyed.

I closed both eyes, but it was too late, as the surprisingly warm cum splattered my face.

Like a warm bath.

When he was done he ordered, "Don't move."

I obeyed.

A moment later, he asked, "Want more BBC?"

"Yes," I admitted, without hesitation, one BBC not enough to satisfy my insatiable lust.

"I have a few buddies inside," he said, as I cautiously opened my left eye.

"Do I know any of them?" I asked, as my right eye stung a bit from the cum. (My left eye was fine.)

"A couple," he nodded, before adding, "but they also know about the other seven BBC-loving faculty members."

"Oh," I said, wondering who they were.

"One of them is likely full of cock right now," he added.

"I'm not sure," I said, desperate for more cum, but unsure I was ready to be outed to some more students.

"Whatever," he shrugged. "But keep in mind you had no clue about any of your colleagues being cum hungry BBC sissies and sluts until you became one too. Our secret society is very secretive."

"Secret society?" I asked, wondering which colleagues were like me.

"There's a society consisting of hundreds of BBCs in this city and thousands of us in the country that are willing to offer their special member to white women, white cock suckers and white sissies. Well, and to other races as well," he revealed.

"Oh," I said, unable to imagine such a society.

"There's an app," he added.

"No way," I said.

"BBC4Me," he revealed, as he put his cock away.

"Nice," I laughed, already knowing I'd be checking out this app.

"Sign up and you'll get all the BBC you want," he said. He then added, "Or just come inside and you can get blacked all night."

"Blacked?" I said, partly as a question and partly as an implied smile, thinking of the Blacked app.

"Yeah," he said as if inviting a buddy in for drinks, "come on in, we both know you want to."

I stood up.

"...and need to," he added.

Of course he was right.

I began to pull my pants up, but he said, "No, take them off, but keep the pantyhose on."

"Yes, sir," I said, knowing I couldn't disobey him.

I also took off my shirt, shoes and socks and followed him into the house.

"Oh yes, do fuck my ass with that massive cock," a feminine voice begged.

A voice I recognized.

It was Mrs. Martens.

Our mid-fifties principal.

A real ball-breaker bitch.

Jamal said, "She's the biggest BBC slut I've ever met. Someone fucks her in her office at least once a day."

"No way," I said.

"Oh yeah, she even has a tattoo on her ass of a black spade."

"Inconceivable," I said, quoting The Princess Bride, as we entered the living room and I arrived in a real-life porn movie, which was a confusion of sucking, fucking and gaming.

Mrs. Martens was on all fours getting slammed by Eugene, a chubby black nerd.

Winston, a colleague of mine, was being spit-roasted by two older black men. He was being driven back and forth like a rocking horse, taking one BBC deep in his ass, then deep-throating the other BBC.

Jazmyn, a black grade twelve student, was wearing a strap-on and fucking Ken, a linebacker on the football team who had full rides to every major college in the country. At the moment he was whimpering like a girl.

A larger black woman, with the biggest tits I'd ever seen, was keeping a blonde girl with a ponytail busy between her thick thighs.

Another black girl I didn't recognize was fucking the same girl from behind with a beer bottle.

An elderly black man, easily in his eighties, was smoking a cigarette while Carter, our school President, sucked on his cock.

Three black alums, all having graduated last year, were on a couch playing Call of Duty while someone was sucking one of them.

Jamal pointed. "Go join your son."

I looked closer.

Indeed, Ben was the one sucking a gamer's BBC.

I wordlessly walked over to the guys, lowered myself to the floor and saw that all three cocks were out.

I crawled over to the first one. Jake, a player on the basketball team when I'd last coached, and silently took his cock into my mouth.

"Coach Barry, if I'd only known this on our road trips," Jake quipped.

"Dad?" I heard a moment later.

I pulled back and said, first to Jake, "Yes, you could have dunked more than just basketballs."

"Shit," he laughed.

I turned to Ben and said as he stared at me mortified, "Now I understand completely, son."

"But..." he began, clearly stunned I was kneeling beside him.

"Thank you for awakening me to my true purpose," I said.

"Oh God, yes," a feminine voice screamed.

Ben informed me, ashamed, "That was Amy. Jamal insisted I bring her over tonight. I was terrified I'd lose her, but she jumped right in! She'd been totally straight, but just discovered black pussy."

"Lucky girl," I approved before adding, "now let me see you suck that nice BBC while I do the same for you with Jake's."

"A father and son cock sucking duo," Albert said, the one sitting on the far side of the couch. He was someone I barely knew. "That's a first," he laughed as I enthusiastically took Jake's cock in my mouth, giving a thumbs up to my astounded son.

"Get to sucking like your father," Jonesy ordered, another football player who'd recently graduated.

"Yes, sir," Ben replied.

I bobbed for a couple minutes until Albert called "rotate".

Ben went to Albert and I went to Jonesy.

"What's with the pantyhose?" Jake asked.

"I want to be a sexy sissy," I answered, honestly this time, in my best falsetto, sounding pathetic.

Mrs. Martens chirped, "Deep throat that cock, James."

"Yes, Sandra," I obeyed.

"That's Mrs. Martens to you, faggot," she corrected.

"Sorry, Mrs. Martens," I apologized, before I took cock number two (in this room so far) into my mouth.

I sucked Jonesy's eight-inch cock.

I then sucked Albert's seven-inch but fat-as-fuck cock.

Then back to Jake's nine-inch member.

When I got to Jonesy again Ben wasn't beside me anymore.

I looked around.

He was now on all fours getting ass fucked by a black guy I didn't recognize while Amy was nearby, still between the woman's legs.

"Bukkake for the new fag!" Albert declared.

"Indeed," Jonesy agreed.

All three of them stood up and began pumping their cocks in front of me.

I knelt and waited for the cum as I exhorted them, "Yes, shoot your hot cum all over me."

"As you wish," Jake grunted even as I was finishing my plea, hitting me square on the forehead.

"Nothing hotter than a cum-coated cock sucking teacher," Albert said, as he stroked his cock furiously.

"Big black cock is hotter," I disagreed gaily, adding my bit to the twisted submissive scenario.

"Oh yes, fuck my ass," Ben whimpered.

I had to see that. So I turned around to watch the black man, with his hands on my son's hips, slamming into him hard. I had no idea how big the cock inside him was, but my son was taking it all and clearly loving it.

"You like seeing your Dad becoming just like you?" Jamal asked, Amy now sucking him.

I guess if straight white boys and men couldn't resist black cock, it shouldn't be a surprise for white girls to love it too.

"Yes, its so hot," Ben moaned, just as I felt cum exploding onto my left cheek.

"You two jocks have another thing in common now," Jamal laughed.

"Yes, we're both BBC cock suckers, and you were the first BBC for each of us," Ben agreed.

"In that case, I guess I should be his first back door bang, too," Jamal offered.

"Wow, what a great idea! Yes, fuck Daddy," Ben moaned, calling me Daddy for the first time since he was seven years old.

"You want me to fuck your Dad?" Jamal asked, even though Ben had just said he did.

"Yes, make him a two-hole faggot just like me," Ben said enthusiastically, looking right at me. "You do want to get fucked, don't you, Daddy?"

The shame he'd had yesterday was totally gone from my son. He was proud of his status as a cock sucker and faggot. He didn't even mind that his girlfriend was witnessing all this... well kind of witnessing... she had a mouthful of black cock blocking her view.

I'd lost my shame, too. I loved BBC. I loved sucking cock, and after watching my son take it in his ass, I wanted that too. And at least within the safety of this exclusive crowd, I was proud of my new status.

I was about to express some words of gratitude to everyone, when without even getting my attention first, Jonesy shoved his cock in my mouth and began face fucking me furiously. It continued the humiliation, which, in turn, continued my submissive excitement.

I gagged a bit, but in a couple of minutes I was swallowing the first load of my future hundreds (perhaps thousands). It scampered down my throat so quick I barely tasted it, hardly got to feel its texture.

But the act was submissive... which added to the humiliation, making it extra gratifying.

When he pulled out, I turned back to Ben and finally answered his question. "Yes, son, I want to be a faggot... just like you."

"A faggot family, how quaint," the elderly black woman chuckled, her legs still spread wide open, revealing a very hairy pussy.

"Come kneel on all fours next to your son," Jamal ordered.

I crawled over, giving one more example of my utter obedient submissiveness.

"Hi, son," I said, oddly casual for the circumstance, looking at him as he whimpered from the hard fucking.

"Hi, Dad," he whimpered.

"I get it now," I told him again as I felt my pantyhose being ripped apart.

"I know," he said.

"I mean it," I said. "I understand you had no control over this. It doesn't make you weak, it makes you strong."

"It does?"

"Yes," I nodded, as I felt wetness being poured on my ass. Thankfully they were going to lube me up. I understood this was likely going to hurt quite a bit at first. "You've accepted who you are, and that's tough for a man at any age."

"I guess," he said, as he looked to see who was behind me and grinned.

"I'm serious," I continued, as a finger poked into my virgin hole. I didn't look back, but only I twitched at the slight pain as the finger slid inside me. "And you've helped me discover my true self."

Then as he was sodomized by a BBC and I was sodomized by a finger... no, two of them now... wiggling around inside me, we had a strange father-son moment. "I... love... you... Dad."

It took a long time for him to say, as now he was really getting hammered.

"I love you too, son," I replied as the strange sensation of fingers in my ass had my cock remaining hard as fuck.

"Oh God, fuck me harder," Ben moaned, closing his eyes. "Let Daddy see how big a faggot I am."

"You're a great big BBC faggot," I assured him, knowing this superlative compliment would enhance his pleasure the same way it would enhance mine.

"Oh yes, Daddy," Ben whimpered, seeming to be close to coming, which seemed impossible since his cock wasn't being touched at all.

"You're a great big cock sucker for black cock," I continued, "a sissy ready to be spit-roasted by every BBC you see, even in front of your gorgeous white blacked girlfriend, even in front of your blacked Daddy."

"I couldn't agree more! It certainly is pretty fucking hot, Mr. Barry," Amy said right in my ear, as I suddenly learned whose fingers were in my ass: my son's girlfriend's!

"Is he gaped?" Jamal asked.

"As well as possible for your cock, Mr. Jamal," Amy reported.

"How would you like to fuck your future Daddy-in-law?" Jamal asked.

"You mean peg him? That would be lots of fun," Amy replied enthusiastically.

"Amy pegged your son for the first time tonight," Jamal revealed.

"Take it all, faggot," Ben's guy grunted and assumedly came in his ass.

"Yes!" Ben screamed in a high-pitched feminine voice I would never guess could emerge from his lips.

I saw cum spurting onto the carpet.

My son had just come... no hands!... from getting ass fucked.

Wow!

I didn't know that was even possible.

As I took it all in, I felt a cock poking at my back door.

I turned back and said, "Fuck me like you fuck my son."

"It's going to hurt," Jamal warned.

"Coach used to always tell me no pain, no gain," someone said.

"Just slam it in," I said, desperate to feel a cock... Jamal's cock... in my ass. Getting sodomised must be amazing, if my son could come from it.

"As you wish," Jamal said, as he thrust all the way in and I screamed.

"Holy fuck!" I bellowed, feeling fire burning inside me.

"Told you," Jamal said, looking a little concerned for me.

"Just relax, Daddy," Ben advised, as I looked up and saw another guy was now fucking him. "It gets really good eventually, but it's important to relax." The son was tutoring the father in anal.

"Okay," I said, grinding my teeth as Jamal began slowly pumping his ten-inch cock in and out of me... tearing my ass apart.

Mrs. Martens ordered, "Amy, come and eat out my holes. They have some yummy cream pies all for you."

"Yes Mistress Martens," Amy replied, and scurried over to the school principal, who opened her legs to reveal cum leaking from both holes.

"All the cheerleaders are my cunt-licking sluts," she informed me... that somehow making more sense than her being only a BBC slut exclusively.

"Lucky girls," I responded, still through gritted teeth, the pain not yet fading away.

"Oh God, Daddy, this black cock is so fat," Ben moaned.

"Take it like a good faggot," I said.

"Just like you, Daddy," he moaned, my son an insatiable ass slut.

"Just like you, son," I countered as a subtle pleasure began building inside me... my cock, which had become flaccid during the initial pain began to harden again.

"Take it all, Daddy, take all of that BBC," Ben encouraged me.

"It's beginning to feel good," I moaned.

"Another white bottom discovers his true calling," Jamal laughed as he began fucking me harder.

"Yes, pound my faggot hole," I moaned, wanting to be used like a cheap slut.

"Yes, pound Daddy's cunt," Ben added, thoroughly enjoying the sight of my getting used.

"You like watching your Dad become a sissy?" I asked.

"It's so hot, but you're not my Dad, you're my slut Daddy!" Ben agreed.

"Watching you get ass fucked is hot too," I said, the weirdest father-son bonding conversation in the history of the world.

"Biggest faggots ever," someone laughed.

"Oh God yes," I moaned, the pleasure inside me building... the pain fading almost totally by now.

"Oh yes, harder," Ben said, although I'm unsure whether he was saying it to Jamal or to the guy fucking him.

"Yes, fuck both our faggot holes," I agreed.

And for a few minutes we were each pounded.

We each whimpered like sluts.

We each got rock hard again.

We each begged to be fucked harder... rougher... deeper.

Then I could feel my balls boiling.

My cock aching.

And as Jamal grunted and deposited a load in my ass, I did the seemingly impossible... I came too.

"Wow, just like his son! He came from getting ass fucked," someone said.

"They really are true faggots," Albert laughed.

"For BBC," I agreed weakly as cum kept spewing out of my cock and Jamal finished in my ass.

"Oh God," Ben groaned, as his own alpha male destroyed his asshole.

As Jamal pulled out, I could feel cum leaking out of my ass before a different cock slid into my mouth and another into my ass... my first spit-roast... my first of many.

I swallowed three more loads.

I had two more deposited in my ass.

And then it was over.

Ben and I got into his car... Ben sober this entire time... me too, now.

Amy went home with Mrs. Martens and some black college girl.

I asked, "Is it weird that I'm still craving more?"

"Nope," he said. "Now you'll always be craving BBC."

"Shit," I said as I felt cum leaking out of my gaping asshole.

"But don't worry," Ben said as he pulled out his phone. "This app will get us BBC whenever we crave it."

"I'm still craving it," I said.

"Not a problem. Let's see if there's any black cock out there looking for a matched set of cock suckers," Ben said.

"Please do, son," I said.

A minute later he reported, "There's an available BBC ten miles from here."

"Then I guess we have one more stop before going home," I joked.

"Only one?"

"Well, at least one," I laughed as he pressed Accept and the GPS guided us on our way.

That night... we shared two more BBC's... and began our new life as a father-son BBC cock-sucking, ass-taking team.

THE END