Disclaimer: This story features a graphic account of a good-looking white male who engages in a graphic act of sex with a handsome African American. If this activity is illegal where you live, or if you are under the age of eighteen, you just stop and go do something else with that thing in your hand. You should be embarrassed and you could get in trouble. All rights not ceded to Nifty are reserved by the author. Copyright 2006 Any_Mouse2003
Beginnings: Military Man
I had an e-mail exchange with an old lover in the morning. We both have a thing with black guys. he is more principled than I am. he will only go for the black guys, and he has elaborate fantasies about what they do to him.
It rarely happens, but as I said, he is a man of principle and his libido is pretty strict. Me, on the other hand, am pretty ecumenical. I prefer men of color, but any port in a sotrm, you know? We aren't getting any younger.
I am a round-heels from way back, with purely situational morals. I wish I didn't have to work for a living and was in a position to wear a little eyeliner once in a while, and a put a rosy blush on my cheek as my legs are being propped on a stalwart set of shoulders and a hard black cock was shoved where the sun don't shine.
I said as much in my e-mail, and that got my libido in top drive when I dropped the note back to you and thought I had the usual two choices. I would go back to bed and work myself into a frantic orgasm, mop myself up and go about the rest of a gentle Sunday.
That is so unsatisfactory, if business-like. So I jumped on Craigslist, despite the fact that it has been pretty much a dry hole of late. Too many young ones, too few tops, so very picky and some danger emerging with more predators and cops, by report.
Technology is a wonder. They say pornography has driven all the real break-throughs in information technology, and Craigslist has given us the capabilty to go from morning coffee to a dick in the mouth or up the ass in twenty minutes. That is progress!
Still, I didn't expect much, but sorted for geography and age and guess what popped up! A 40-something black guy in the city right next door. He advertised discrete and married, and there is nothing better than an almost straight black guy, jamming his cock in something or other.
I also figure that married means less chance of disease or other craziness.
We went back and forth exactly three times, didn't worry about photos, and he was hosting. So, although there was the usual tightness in the throat and belly about the danger of walking into a strange place alone, I headed for his apartment.
I was parking the car, pleasantly surprised by the affluence of the neighborhood when I got caught with a business call that hung me up for nearly twenty minutes.
It made me late, pacing on the street, waving with my hands as I talked on the little phone, and the thought that a lover was waiting on the third floor of one of the buildings was making me almost beside myself.
At length I was able to extricate myself and I walked down the hill to the building. There was an elevator and I took it, heart pounding as it always does. This is risk-taking at its finest, and when the passion is on me it nearly makes me giddy and faintly nauseous. The building had no central entrance, just an elevator and stairs to the exterior walkways.
The elevator rumbled up three floors and I got our, orienting myself by the unit numbers. I counted the doors off the breezeway and came to the one he had told me. I knocked twice, and there was the sound of a dog barking.,
Suppose it was a prank, someone's maiden aunt? Or a noxious neighbor who would be fun to mess with? How embarrassing! Not that it hasn't happened.
It must have only been thirty seconds, but the doorknob turned and the door swung inward. A small white dog appeared first, and then a strong back face.
I asked if he was the fake name he had given me, and I replied with my fake name. He asked me in. I stepped around the dog, which sniffed me once and then ignored me. I was in the living room of a small but well-appointed two bedroom unit.
The place had the woman's touch of a real home. He was doing a task, and wires hung down from the ceiling where a new fan was going to go. I looked at him and was pleased with what I saw.
He was tall, about 6'1", and slim. He had a military bearing, and wore a sweatpants and shirt with the logo of a famous Army division. He face was regular, but darkened in some places as a black man's will over the years. He was quite handsome.
He asked me to sit down, not bothering to ask if I wanted anything to drink. He asked if I liked what I saw, and if I would like to see more. His hands went to the waistband of his sweats, and he hooked his thumbs in them.
I must say that when a black man is ready for something, he doesn't beat around the bush like the white guys do. I swallowed and said I liked what I saw very much. I wanted to kiss those full lips, but he made no move toward me. Instead, he drew the top of his pants down until the pink tip of his uncircumcised cock emerged. He was already becoming erect, and as the pants slid down, he teased me with the length of his manhood.
He was not massive, but long, perhaps eight inches or more. It was a lovely thing, and he stood before me with the sweats down to his thighs and that wonderful tool, jutting forward. I reached out to caress it, and it leapt under my stroke. It was the color of rich chocolate.
"It is a beautiful cock," I said meekly. He stepped forward and the tip of his cock waved in my face. I closed my eyes dreamily and opened my mouth, extending my tongue. He cocked his hips forward and the velvety tip touched my tongue. I pursed my lips into an "O" and kissed it.
"Why don't you sit down and get comfortable. Take off your pants," I said. My voice was husky with desire.
He stepped back and pulled off the pants, leaving his sweatshirt, socks and sandals on. He positioned a blanket under his muscular butt, and spread his legs wide in welcome. He did not ask me to disrobe, and he did not ask. He took his hands and patted the inside of this thighs in command.
I leapt to my feet from the couch and fell to my knees to worship him. Between his thighs I could smell his musk and the sweat of his project. I opened my mouth wide and took him in, moistening him as I slowly worked my way down the long shaft. I could feel him become engorged. The tip of his cock reached the back of my throat and I worked my tongue on the soft skin of the underside of my master's tool.
"Suck that cock. Yes, baby, You suck."
I explored my new toy with saliva and palate. He tasted delicious. He did not like me deep. "Just the tip," he said, pulling back. He liked the sensitive ridge of his helmet to rub gently over my upper teeth, and I sucked with fervor to keep him in me. I forced my tongue into his piss-slit and he moaned in pleasure. I looked up, and rubbed the back of his thighs and then raised my hand to caress his testicles.
:Yeah, baby. That's good. That is very good. You use that tongue. You suck me good."
His wish was my command, and I slurped at him eagerly. When he wanted to go deep into me, he would grab my ears, not urgently, just with insistence. I gripped the length of his shaft that would not fit in my mouth and began to jack him gently. He liked that, for a while, as I got a nice rhythm going, hand and mouth and tongue. I wanted his seed in my mouth, and I became over-eager. He pushed my face back, and slapped my cheeks with his cock. I was mesmerized, and tried to capture it with my mouth.
"I'll tell you when I want to come, bitch, so you sit on that sweet ass of yours and I will feed you." The words burned in my ears, and I blushed. I rocked back off my knees and sat before him, anxious with desire. He stepped so that he stood with his slim muscular legs on either side of mine. Looking up, all I could see was his long dark penis, and then the colorful shirt and then his dark smoldering eyes. He thrust his hips forward and the prize was mine again. I gobbled him down, and then went back to suckling his tip, applying just enough pressure to force the helmet over my lips and teeth.
He gasped in pleasure as I thrust the tip of my tongue against his slit. I could taste the slime of his pre-cum oozing from it.
"Shit, yeah. You suck good!" he said. Sitting there I felt so servile and submissive. Yet my tongue made him mine, in a way. He began to rub the hair on the back of my head and play with my ears, thrusting. I took him deep, opening my throat to him in submission. He planted himself there, his public hair against my nose, marking his territory.
I must have worked on him for a hald hour or more. It was heaven.
Holding my ears he began to thrust, dancing with his cock in my throat. I was giddy when he pulled back and began to fuck my face slowly in time with the music on the radio in the background. He began to moan. I sensed my master was nearing his release, and I reached up to jack him into my mouth as I tongued him furiously.
He did not moan when he filled my mouth with his hot semen. I was surprised but I am a good cocksucker and I got it all. It was rich warm and filled my mouth around him.
Knowing that he would be sensitive after his eruption, I slowed the frantic motion of my tongue. I milked his cock, ever so gently, getting every last drop. When I sensed he was softening, and began to lick him again, cleaning him thoroughly of his seed.
My jeans were soaked from my pre-cum, and my erection strained against the denim. But he showed no inclination to do anything except allow me to worship his cock. When he was soft again, he still hung six inches. I kissed the tip once more. Looking up, I said "How do you like me so far?"
He said, "You suck cock real well. I think I would like to do that again." He smiled, and stepped away to pick up his sweats. He was done with me for the moment. "You said you were looking for a regular fuck buddy. I think I would like to have you suck my my dick as often as you want."
"That would make me very happy," I said, and we exchanged more intimate contact information, now that he knew he could have a submissive white cocksucker at his beck and call, and I had a black cock that was not attached to a thug or a criminal.
He is going to let me know what works for him this week, and I am hoping that I can get him eventually to do more to me. I would love to have him in me, bent over a couch, or with my legs on his shoulders.
If he wanted to pull out and come in my mouth, that would be fine. If he just wants to have me sit on the floor and look up at his dark eyes as he pumps his seed down my throat, that would be fine, too.
I hope he lets me kiss him, when my mouth is still filled with the taste of his spunk, but that is not necessary on my side of things.
He showed me to the door, done with me for now. "How did you like the taste?" he asked. "I've been eating a lot of fruit."
I ran my tongue along my lips, delighted with the sweet acrid taste, and way it made my throat constrict.
"You taste wonderful," I said. I was seeing stars. I walked out the door and was a few steps away when I realize I had forgotten my glasses. He was standing there in the door with them in his hand. "You'll be needing these," he said with a smile.
"I'll be needing you!" I said. I almost floated down the steps. As I walked down the walkway to the parking lot, an African American woman passed me going the other way. I don't know which unit she was headed to, and I wondered if my lover was so reckless as to risk having a middle aged white guy on his floor, his long black dick down his throat, when his wife walked through the door.
I smiled at the thought as I walked back to the car.
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