Non-Fatal Attraction - Part 2: Succumbing to Temptation
by Blonde
The following is a re-write of a story I posted in September entitled "Male Rapture Across Cultures". That story was a fantasy collaboration between myself and an Asian cyber-friend. I thank the readers who assisted me in suggesting plot details for this episode, but I would appreciate any assistance for future chapters. All the usual disclaimers apply.
The magnetic allure of the locale was just too overwhelming to resist. My breathing became shallow and quick as I approached the first blocks on foot.
I was distracted all through my late class in a daydream about the unthinkable risk I was about to take. A month earlier, if anyone had suggested I had such daring, I would have dismissed the very idea as pathologically insane. I knew that those who took such great offense at my prior intervention on that hapless night could be out prowling and could respond with even greater animus to my galling return to their jealously guarded turf. The recollection of their menacing threats set my loins on fire with a thick stewing buzz. It was a thrill to walk about these gritty streets with a stiff boner that would not quit. A simple twig snap could shoot a charge of adrenalin into my depths like lightening striking an old tree. I deliberately lingered by dark and dreary alley openings. I felt like a rabbit caught out in the open, beckoning a predator to pounce on its easily accessible prey.
And then, it happened. I was only a block and a half from a neighboring area that is more prosperous and better patrolled. Only yards from an alley opening in front of a barred-off closed store, he spoke from behind. "You got one hell of a nerve showing your queer ass around here, white man." As he spoke, he brusquely clasped me behind the neck with one large hand and used the other arm to clasp me around the middle. I was helpless as he slammed me front-faced against the bars. With incredible strength he squeezed me against the bars and raised a knee to my lower back to keep me pinned. He had one free hand to frisk me as he obviously sought out my firearm. He must of thought I carried my weapon about my waist or holstered on my hips for this is where his urgently probing paw started investigating me. My legs were splayed slightly open to steady myself, allowing him easy access to explore my ass and crotch. His hand reached and patted all the way through, encountering my straining bulge on the other side. His fat fingers traced the outline of my persistent excitement and stopped there. I heard him almost whisper, "well, what do you know? White boy brought along his sissy gun this time." He let down his guard by removing his other hand and knee. I lunged to free myself and this caught him by surprise. I managed to back away 10' from him and reach for my .38 out of my breast pocket in a flash. I had it trained on him before he had a chance to react.
Directly confronting him, I could see he was the tallest and broadest of the five or so assailants of the week before.
Seeing the gun, he threw up his hands at head level. "Be cool, man. I don't mean no harm. Just wondering why you come back to chocolate streets. Hear what I'm sayin`?" He spoke an octave above his tone when he had me pinned against the bars, feigning sociability.
"Just stand back and don't come any closer." I couldn't muster a tone of authority that I thought suitable.
"I got no quarrel with you. I don't mean no disrespect, but from what you got hidden under your pants, I think I know what you come back for." He started to saunter backwards to the front of the alley where the streetlight rays were weaker. "Come closer back here, friend. There's something I would like to show you, you might be interested in."
"I am not your friend," I protested. "Please just go about your business and leave me alone." I was frightened as I never had been before, but I didn't mean the words I spoke as they jumbled from my mouth. To the contrary, I was encouraged by the remark he made about my return. I even took a couple of steps toward him as he backed away.
"Oohhh man! Don't be like that. After what happened las' time you were here at night, there must be a reason you come back. Here, you can even continue pointin' your piece at me if you let me show you something you'd like to look at. . . . Just let me lower one hand down to my pants. I ain't got nothn' down there that could hurt you."
Stupidly, I didn't reply. Of course I had enough of a libidinal imagination to surmise what it was that he wanted to show me. This was a large very broad-shouldered powerful man, I estimated to be 6' 3" and at least 210 lbs.
A large head was crowned with a black turned around baseball cap and coal black eyes peered impressively from large sockets. My curiosity of what Tyrone, as I later learned he was called, wanted to show me was quickly surpassing any fear he instilled.
"That's better." As he slowly lowered his right hand below his waist. His left remained fully levitated. "Most o' you white boys never seen black licorice stick before." He spoke as he unzipped and reached through the open flap of his baggy basketball length shorts with the same hand. He bent forward slightly to better release what it was he planned to reveal for my inspection. The gun was shaking in my hands as I stepped forward even closer, aware that he may be in engaging in some kind of trick to subdue me.
Withdrawing and exposing his concealed member, in a flash I realized that this was no trick. This was the genuine article. He slowly broke into a wide knowing grin. I must have betrayed obvious interest by facial expression. The length surpassed anything I had ever seen first hand. Evidently it was at least 9" with bulging veins branching off from the underside. It had a comparatively small uncut red crown with a wide girth that accentuated in the middle of the shaft. This was a pleasing shape of cock for getting physical.
"I thought you'd like that," he spoke softly with his toothsome grin. "If you put down your piece, you can have this cock for any way you'd like to use it. . . We ain't got nothin' against folks like you `round here. In fact, we hope you come around to enjoy good times with us".
Still, I didn't speak. I just stared at the awesome specimen before me. I didn't implore him to leave and I made no attempt to withdraw. I just continued to stare and point my gun towards his head. My hands were weakening with the weight of the weapon and also the thrill of the intensifying lust. My knees felt as though they would buckle any minute.
"You know you want dis meat, white boy. All your kind do. Now jus' put down your weapon and you can have fun like you never known before. . . . Chill, man! Its goin be alright." He was right. If only I could sniff it, taste it, feel its silky pulsing heat in my grasp, feel it rub up and down my rear crack. My defensive resolve was fast weakening. I was succumbing to the most potent and animalistic seduction I had ever encountered. If I surrendered to my desires I would place myself at the mercy of unknown appetites. Of course, this knowledge had the effect of only further weakening my barriers. I started to lower my weapon. "Do it, white boy! You know you want this man meat ssooooooo bad. Put down your piece and I put it in a safe place while you have the time o' yer life. . . My cock wants you, bad. Ain't no bitches know what to do with a good cock like fag, er, cock boys like you do. . . . This cock is yours for the sucking. . . . Or, maybe you prefer to take long meat up the back end. Any way you want it, white boy. Just put down yer piece." He was adjusting his shorts as I was about to yield to curiosity and desire. His large plump balls flopped out. "I'll bet you never seen balls like dese, white boy. You aint never felt or tasted balls in a sac like this. They be full of lots of cum and you can have them too." This was the final blow to resistance. I was simply driven by overpowering compulsion and hedonistic pleasure to take an outrageous risk. Nervously, I kneeled down to place the .38 on the pavement.
Before I could complete straightening myself, they were upon me. I do not know where they came from, but three other men incapacitated me instantly in a series of wrestling holds, including a severe headlock. "Easy bros," Tyrone spoke up. "No need to be so rough with our little friend here. He be a cock bitch. He want it bad." He moved his large head within inches of my face. "You ain't jus' gonna get one cock, slut. You gonna get all our black night sticks. Now, do you want all our cocks, white boy?" The others painfully intensified their holds on me.
"Y-yes," I yelped.
"I didn't hear you, white boy. Yes, what?"
"Yes I want all your cocks, sir"
"Thats what we like to hear. Ease up bros, we gonna get our man sticks worked on by pussy boy, here. Jusmake sure you never bring a weaponround here, again."
They relaxed their binds on me and grasped about the arms and shoulders. They gleefully spun out raunchy banter. I was being tightly escorted down the street, presumably to the destination of our impending physical interactions. Through this whole episode, my painfully stretched organ never relaxed a second. I knew my briefs were soaked with pre-cum about the front and the wetness was spreading into the crotch to the rear.
Any and all suggestions from readers are welcome. I think you can figure out what I am leading to. If anyone has any ideas about especially kinky or surprising encounters between my protaganist and his captors, I would be very happy to read about your ideas. Please write to blondeallover@hotmail.com.