This story is porno-GRAPHIC fiction! Should depictions of homosexual acts or interracial domination offend your sensibilities, read no further!! If you are under the age of consent, turn back at once!!!
THUG CASH MASTER, by Skorpio
Part Two: Whiteboy's Crib
Walking to the whiteboy's crib on the other side of town took almost half an hour. Brad stopped at a liquor store for another six-pack of Steel Reserve tallboys and a small bottle of Southern Comfort. Not that Brad needed more to drink since he was already three sheets to the wind, but he wanted to make sure his latest piece of Black trade was drunk enough to want his dick sucked.
Reese was asking himself how far he wanted to go through with this scene before he simply beat the shit out of this punk and took his money. On the other hand, a blowjob was starting to sound like a good idea. It wouldn't be the first time Reese let a fag go down on him. In the county jail where Reese did a three year bid for possession, the brother not only let whiteboys suck his dick, he made them do it. Still, that was then. Reese had bitches now.
Brad rented a second floor apartment with two bedrooms in an old row house. He told Reese to make himself comfortable in the living room while he went to the kitchen to put away the beer. Reese looked around.
There was an old armchair and sofa in need of upholstery, a 32 inch TV hooked up to a DVD player and VCR. Against one wall was a large desk with a computer and printer. A fan was in the window. Empty beer cans here and there.
Reese flopped down on the sofa and grabbed the remote.
Seeing there was a tape in the VCR, he pressed Play. It turned out to be a porno movie: two brothers double-teaming a white slut with enormous titties and bottomless pussy.
Reese was stretched out, idly rubbing his crotch when Brad returned with beer for both of them and a fat joint.
"Oh yahhh, that's what I'm talking' about!" Reese exclaimed, placing the joint between his lips.
Brad knew what was expected of him.
"You've got my lighter," he said, uncertainly.
"Get another one," Reese snapped. "Hurry up! You gonna spark this or not?"
Brad quickly located another lighter and ignited the joint.
Reese smoked the entire joint by himself, down to a small roach. Taking one last puff, Reese stretched his arms across the back of the sofa, and leaned back, looking up at the ceiling as he exhaled a plume of blue smoke. He grunted with satisfaction and studied the porn on TV through narrowed, smoke-glazed eyes.
"You can make yourself comfortable, if you want," Brad suggested.
"Whatchu mean?" Reese muttered, his dark eyes fixed on the TV screen where a brother stood over a white woman with his long black cock sliding in and out of her mouth.
Brad said, "You can take your shoes off, if you want. I know it's hot in here.
Reese decided that he had this faggot right where he wanted him: might as well remind the bitch know who was in charge.
"Why dontchu take `em off for me," said Reese.
"Uh, okay, sure."
Brad got down on his knees and unlaced the thug's size 12 Timberlands. Just as Brad was about to remove one of the boots, Reese said, "I think my boots are dirty, what do you think?"
"They look a little dirty, I guess," Brad agreed,
"Why don't you get them clean for me. You can use your tongue."
This was the deciding moment. Reese had made his move and Brad knew it. There was no turning back. Brad realized that Reese had his number and was pressing the advantage.
Nervous, but feeling his cock stiffen with desire, Brad did as he was told. He ran his tongue along the toe and instep of one boot, then the other. Boot-licking was not something Brad had ever done before except in his fantasies.
"Aiiiiight, enough of that shit, yo!" snarled Reese. "Why don't you git busy on my dick! That's what you want, ain't it? You wanna suck some black dick tonight? Huh, whiteboy?"
Reese pushed his sweatpants halfway down his thighs. He wasn't wearing any underwear. His large dark brown cock hung between his legs, maybe six inches long, not even hard, but plump and thick. Brad stared in silent fascination.
This was a real man's cock. It was nothing like the little white worm that he called a cock, which even hard did not equal Reese's cock in its flaccid state.
Brad wondered how big Reese's cock would actually expand just before he took the plunge and wrapped his mouth around it. He soon found out.
Reese's cock grew almost twice as big as soon as it entered the whiteboy's warm, moist mouth and forced its way down the tight, hot throat.
Years of sucking big black dicks had taught Brad how to deep throat like a whore, but even Brad had trouble taking all that Reese had to shove down his gullet.
Like a hard, thick, black iron pipe, Reese's cock slid in and out of Brad's throat, ten inches of Mandingo meat.
Shit, thought Reese, this was fucking decent. He grabbed Brad by the ears with both hands and worked his head up and down on his long black cock, faster and harder until his nuts churned and he couldn't hold back the flood of hot, thick sperm, shooting down Brad's throat, gushing over his lips like foam.
Reese pulled out his cock and stroked it, squeezing out several more spurts, covering Brad's face with hot, dripping cum. Reese was breathing hard. He lay back against the sofa, his broad, muscular chest glistening with sweat.
Brad was on his knees, catching the cum that oozed from the tip of his nose to his lips.
Reese glanced down with a cold sneer of contempt.
"You liked that shit, huh?"
"Yes, thank you, it was great," said Brad eagerly, already wondering if he would get the chance to suck that big black cock again, but feeling in the pit of his stomach that something bad was about to happen.
And the strange thing was, whatever it might be, Brad wanted it. Brad didn't care. He was in whiteboy heaven with the taste of cum in his throat. He felt truly dominated for the first time. This was nothing like the internet fantasies he engaged in. This was real.
"If you liked that," said Reese, "you gonna LOVE this!"
And with that, Reese balled up his right fist and punched Brad hard in the jaw.
Bammmm!!!
Brad tumbled over and lay unconscious on the floor at Reese's feet.
TO BE CONTINUED...
IN PART THREE: CASH MASTER