Mike didn't need to know the time because he knew it was Sunday afternoon, so all he needed to know was that it was time to spend the rest of the day with Marcus's big black cock down his throat.
Five years into their relationship, the Rules For Good White Bears were well established, so Marcus didn't need to say a thing. If he forgot, which he never did, he needed to point his smartphone's camera to the small tattoo on his upper left arm. A nondescript image to most, but it would direct him to an always up-to-date listing of the rules they had agreed he should live by. He recited Rule #2 as he walked out of the bathroom.
"Good White Bears know what to do without needing to be told. So they learn and provide whatever BBC needs without question or complaint."
"That's right, so don't make me wait."
Mike knew he had spoken out loud but still jumped at Marcus's reply.
Marcus sat on their sofa, flipping through channels on the television, but his eyes were on Mike. Mike saw the look in Marcus's eyes, felt his insides melt a bit, and started making his way over to him. But first, he paused in front of the hallway mirror. Rule #7, like all the rules, was necessary.
"Good White Bears ensure they are good eye candy for BBC, at all times in whatever looks, clothes, or style BBC desires."
Mike looked at his face in the mirror. He made sure his beard was big like Marcus liked but soft to the touch. He didn't want to scratch Marcus's balls. He adjusted his T-shirt around his barrel chest and round stomach. He wanted Marcus to notice the fuzzy belly peaking underneath the shirt. He noted that his red mesh shorts rested on his hips, and the material was taut around his fat ass. He wanted Marcus to see the jiggle in his thick buns without the material bunching or getting in the way. The shirts and shorts were run-of-the-mill essential wear, but Marcus had bought them for him, just like he had bought all the clothes Mike wore, so Mike knew they had to be worn properly, as Marcus described.
His cock twitched as he turned and caught Marcus checking out his ass. He adjusted his junk, ensuring the jockstrap Marcus had designated as his "home underwear" was snug around his balls. Marcus had ensured the jockstrap's pouch was sized just right to keep Mike's short but fat cock restrained without a cage. Mike had several BBC-approved cages for when he wore the other kind of allowed underwear (boxer briefs), but Mike had recently earned the right to wear the comfier jockstraps when at home. Mike felt his cock twitch again, but this time with a surge of pride as he knew this allowance meant he had proved to be a Good White Bear.
The sofa was possibly oversized for the room, but Mike knew they bought it for this specific purpose. He was a big man and needed the space. Marcus was sitting in his usual spot on the far end of the couch. Mike kneeled on the sofa's stiff, sturdy cushions and stretched his big body over the couch until his head was above Marcus's lap.
Marcus sat in his New York Giants bathrobe with nothing on underneath. Mike marveled at Marcus's dick as it rested on his thigh against the soft blue fuzzy robe. He knew that not all BBC was huge, but he loved that this one was over nine inches long. Even as he thanked his luck, he reminded himself of Rule #1.
"Good White Bears know that BBC isn't about big dicks. Good White Bears know their place is to worship all dark meat, no matter what, no matter who, no matter where."
Mike knew that Sunday afternoon was designated as "cocksleeve time," but he couldn't help himself. He licked around Marcus's cockhead, tasting whatever was in the foreskin. He hoped Marcus would see this not as a break in discipline but as part of Mike's role in keeping Marcus's foreskin clean. He didn't push his luck, though, and before Marcus had time to say anything, Mike took a few deep breaths and started to work the half-hard dick down his throat.
As Marcus sighed and his cock began to harden in Mike's throat, Marcus's words from early on in their relationship came to Mike's mind. They had been dating for about a year, and though their sex was hot and often, they both realized they were holding back. Finally, as they opened up and started talking about their desires, they realized there were no doubts about what each was made for, and the Rules were formed. As Mike's lips settled around the base of Marcus's cock while his cockhead throbbed deep in his throat, he sighed in pleasure, happy that Rule #3 was firmly in force and remembering that night a few years ago.
Marcus had an idea. He grabbed his phone and entered his passcode to access a hidden photos folder. A few swipes later, he found what spurred his idea. He pressed play, and Mike's face filled the screen, smiling behind a large black dick. Marcus recognized his dick and started watching a memory of a few years ago.
----- A Few Years Ago...
"So, about Rule #3," Marcus said.
Marcus had never been this turned on. He watched Mike put on his anniversary present, a tight pair of boxer briefs that hinted at dinner and revealed as soon as they arrived at Mike's apartment. Mike didn't try them on immediately cause Marcus needed to sate the lust caused by Mike's climbing the stairs in front of him. Mike was crazy hot, and they fit together so well, especially when it came time to shove Marcus's dick up Mike's fat ass.
Marcus thought about how happily Mike had taken him earlier. Watching Mike's ass go up the stairs had inspired him, but he bet that they would have fucked anyway. Mike was as eager for it as Marcus was, but watching Mike move in those jeans removed all doubt. Mike had barely pulled them down past his thighs before Marcus had pushed him over the counter. And as soon as Marcus pressed his cockhead in between those pale cheeks, Mike was moaning and pushing back. Years ago, Marcus learned he needed to be gentle with most bottoms, but Mike kept tempting him to plow right ahead. This time, it was Mike reaching back to spread his cheeks and wiggling his hole on the cockhead, pressing against his hole. Marcus couldn't help it. He jabbed forward, feeling that feeling he had come to love, Mike's hole eating up the first inch or so of his cock. Mike whimpered, but he kept his ass spread wide and started pushing back eagerly. Marcus followed the cue and, slowly but without stopping or hesitating, seated his entire dick up Mike's ass. When his crotch was against Mike's smooth pale hole, he mumbled something he always wanted to say out loud.
"This is exactly where I belong. This is what I deserve and what you were made for." He stroked his dick back and forth but froze at Mike's reply.
"You were definitely made to be in this ass, and it's all yours. I got you. Do whatever you need to do with me."
It didn't take long after that for Marcus to fill Mike up while yelling about thick white ass milking black dick.
Afterward, they continued the conversation they had been having these last few weeks. As they started talking about their desires, a new world opened up. Marcus was determined to make that world real, and it seemed like Mike was all for it.
"Let me see if I need to look it up," Mike said, looking at himself in the full-length mirror by his bed. "Rule #3. Good White Bears always provide complete service to BBC. They are responsible for learning what they don't know so they can be perfect for any BBC."
Marcus's cock twitched in his hand in response. He couldn't help playing with his half-hard dick, even though he knew the load he shot earlier was huge. He took a close look at the back of Mike's boxer briefs. The material was thin, and the fit was tight enough that any leakage would be noticeable, but there was none. Mike turned to catch him looking intently.
"Rule #5 is one I am happy to fulfill. Good White Bears know black cum is precious and thus can never be wasted. All orgasms should be while BBC is balls deep, no matter when, no matter where, no condoms, no pulling out, and always milked thoroughly." Mike finished reciting with a pat on his ass. "Don't worry, Marcus, every drop will stay very deep."
"What a quick study, and if you keep going, you'll have more to keep deep. But back to Rule #3. You will need to learn when I want a cocksleeve, a fleshlight, a bitch boy, or something else. And making sure you do whichever perfectly without me needing to say anything," Marcus said as Mike slid into the spot next to him on the bed. He pulled out his arm, and Mike nuzzled against his side. Marcus started to play with the fuzz in the small of Mike's back and thought about the future.
"Sounds hot, but what do you mean by cocksleeve, fleshlight, and whatnot?" Mike asked, one eye on Mike's cock as it twitched and fattened.
"It means that sometimes I want my dick in your throat. I want to keep it there indefinitely. That's "cocksleeve time." Or at least until I want something else. Like, I want you to hold your ass open while I long stroke your hole however I want for as long as I want. That's fleshlight time. As for bitch boy? Get between my legs, and I'll show you." Marcus said, getting turned on by his words and wondering if he was asking for too much.
"Fuck. That's hot. I'd love to keep your cock warm whenever, though I am unsure if I can keep all this cock in my throat. But I will definitely give it my all." Mike moved down the bed, nestling between Marcus' thighs and leaning his head towards Marcus's big balls.
"No. Not yet." Marcus said with a sharp tone.
"Ok." Mike's head turned up to look at Marcus. "Sir? Should I call you sir or daddy or something?"
"Marcus is fine for now. Maybe something will grow on you."
"I can see something already growing on me." Mike smiled, his face lighting up around his bushy beard.
"Don't get cocky. I can just as easily walk away." Marcus laughed, happy to tease.
"You wouldn't dare. Not after how you make my hole feel when you get all the way in." Mike's eyes closed, not noticing how his ass wiggled at the memory. Marcus saw, growling softly as the thin cotton stretched against the thick buns.
"Well then, I guess you better show the proper respect, shouldn't you?" Mike's eyes opened, narrowing at the tone in Marcus's voice.
Marcus reached down and grabbed the base of his now-stiffened dick, waving it in Mike's face. "You gonna learn to be a good white bitch bear, right?" He asked, enjoying how Mike's eyes focused on the tip of his dick, waving back and forth.
"I'll do whatever I need to do, as all white bears like me should," Mike said softly, licking his lips. "That's a good answer. Now be a good bitch and make sure there isn't any cum in my foreskin. And you better not get any ideas. Foreskin only, I feel your tongue anywhere else, and I don't need a "or else," do I?"
Mike's tongue was already in Marcus's foreskin before Mike was finished speaking. He pulled back to answer. "Of course not; I'll do whatever for this dick, with pleasure."
"Good," Marcus said, nodding as he directed his cock back into Mike's mouth. Mike eagerly slurped at the cock.
Mike's cock-crazed moans filled the room. Marcus watched as Mike's tongue dug all in and around his foreskin.
"You like that dick, huh?" Marcus said, at last.
Mike took his mouth off Marcus's dick and stared at it as Mike stroked it slowly.
"I love it. It's perfect."
"Yea? You'd do this for any dick, wouldn't you? Like a big white dick?"
Mike's bright blue eyes looked confused. He considered for a moment, then responded.
"Who cares about white dick? Rule #4, right? Good White Bears know white cocks don't matter, so they make sure they are out of sight whenever real cock is around."
Marcus laughed, and Mike had a happy grin in reply. Then, Marcus reached down to run his hands through Mike's big beard. "That's a good bitch bear." Marcus coos, stroking Mike's beard.
"Thank you. Of course, I'm very much a bitch bear for BBC. Who wouldn't be? Every white bear should be. Is that what you'd want me to say?"
Marcus growled at that sound, grabbing Mike's beard and pulling it towards his dick. "You say it as if you believe it, so I think that answers the question, doesn't it?"
Mike's eyes moved back to Marcus's dick. It had some of his spit on it, making it look shiny. He stroked it, admiring how much the foreskin moved and how heavy it felt in his hands. He thought about how it felt up his ass, especially when it pulsed and throbbed past his second sphincter. He shuddered.
"Yeah, I can't imagine any white bear not wishing he was in my place right now. I want to make it cum so bad; keep it happy."
Marcus growled again, playing with Mike's beard as he listened to the dirty talk that sounded like the truth. "Keep your beard like this, but soft, alright?" Marcus said, letting go of the soft fuzz.
"Whatever you want, sure," Mike was already back to licking Marcus's foreskin.
"Alright, enough of that. Time to learn to be a cocksleeve," Mike says, putting his hands behind his head against the pillow. "Down your throat. Now."
Marcus heard Mike taking a big gulp of air. He closed his eyes at the rightness of not seeing any hesitation, not hearing any questions. He sighed as he felt Mike work his cock down his throat. An idea hit him. He grabbed the phone from its spot by the bed.
"I'm going to record you a bit, alright? Just something I want to save, ok?" Marcus asked.
Mike paused, half of Marcus's dick in his mouth. He looked up at Marcus's flat stomach, pert nipples, and those soft brown eyes looking at him with a possessive warmth he was starting to really enjoy. He felt the thickness of Marcus' dick in his mouth and the way Marcus's legs felt against his sides. He had never felt more comfortable or sexy in his life. And so he nodded in approval.
Marcus smiled, clicked the record button, and zoomed in. The screen was filled with a very dark cock against a soft blond beard. Marcus slowly zoomed out until Mike's face filled the frame. Mike looked up, seeking out the camera and looking right into it, ensuring he kept Marcus' dick half in half out of his mouth. Marcus moaned at the sight on the screen. He snapped a screenshot, bright blue eyes focused on him, with his dick throbbing around soft pink lips. He looked away from the screen to catch Mike's eyes. They both looked at each other for a moment, thinking about Rule #8.
Good White Bears stay in position, keep swallowing, keep servicing, and keep milking BBC until told to stop. Good White bears never pull away from BBC until told to do so.
"Take it out of your mouth," Marcus said. So Mike did, watching it stay pointing straight out. Marcus was so hard. "Throat it," Marcus said. Mike put it back in his mouth and started to work down the shaft.
"Keep your eyes up here. At me," Marcus instructed, watching Mike's eyes stare at him as his dick disappeared down his mouth. He couldn't get it all down; a couple of inches of dark meat stayed visible beyond Mike's lips. Marcus grunted in approval as Mike kept moving his lips, trying to get them around the base. Marcus flexed his cock, feeling Mike's throat spasm around his cockhead.
...Back to Sunday Afternoon...
Marcus watched Mike's eyes glaze over somewhat in the video playing on his phone. Mike was firmly in place, as he had been for the last twenty minutes, with his lips pushing against Marcus's crotch and his throat full of big fat BBC. It had taken some time, but Mike no longer had any problem keeping Marcus' dick all the way down his throat for as long as Marcus wanted.
Marcus heard his voice in the video. "Good. Keep it there. Keep looking at me."
The Mike in the video nodded, slight tears forming in his eyes.
"Good. Take it out and tell me what you are," the off-screen voice said. The Mike onscreen complied, backing off but not breaking eye contact with the camera.
"I'm a bitch for your dick. For your BBC," He said, at first cautiously, but the audio was clear.
"That's good. Now-"the off-screen voice started, only to be interrupted.
"I'll be whatever you need me to be, Marcus. Cocksleeve, fleshlight, bitch bear, cum-dump. I'm just pussy for you like all white bears should be," Mike said.
In the video, Marcus's dick started twitching and leaking. In the present day, as Marcus expected, his dick started to plump up, throb, and leak. Mike, also as Marcus expected, noticed and started to swallow fiercely, using his throat to milk the entire length of Marcus's dick. He also stuck out his tongue, pressing against Marcus's balls, as he knew that would make Marcus happier.
"That's my white bear," Marcus growled, his eyes up to the ceiling. His dick started to shoot the big load Mike always got out of him. He felt his body shake, his dick pulse, and his crotch started bucking into Mike's face. Mike pushed his head down, his body still as he expected, kept his face pressed against Marcus' crotch, and kept Marcus' dick all the way down his throat. He swallowed around it, making his moans as he felt Marcus' dick throb and pulse, and this cum slid down his throat.
Marcus put the phone down, grabbed the remote, and turned the sound back on. His other hand reached over to grab at Mike's ass. As expected, Mike reached back with both hands to pull down the back of his underwear. Marcus's dick stayed precisely where it was meant to be, planted down Mike's throat. Rule #8 was definitely their favorite.
As Mike resumed the slow, soft suckling and Marcus came down from his orgasm, he looked down at Mike's body. It never failed to amaze him. He put the remote down and ran his hand through Mike's blond hair, pressing down a bit to grind his still-hard dick against Mike's face. Then he ran his hand down Mike's broad back, watching the bits of gooseflesh form as his fingers circled through the light fuzz. He let himself enjoy the dip into the small of Mike's back, a prominent tuft of fur right at the top of his ass crack. Finally, he laid his eyes on his favorite view in their world. Mike's ass was fuzzy, wide, and very round. He chuckled at the words he uses when he describes it to his friends - fuzzy watermelons, soft bowling balls, round bricks, bouncy mountains. Regardless of the name, he placed his hands on a big ass cheek, squeezing slightly.
Mike wiggled his ass into Marcus' hands and swallowed around Marcus' dick a few times. It had become his way of expressing that he was exactly where he was supposed to be, and he wanted Marcus to know it. Marcus agreed, patting Mike's beautiful ass and continuing to enjoy his Sunday afternoon.