A Thug, a Gentleman, and a Sissy-boy
"I'm not gay," I repeated, this time a little more insistently. It seemed a ridiculous statement to make given the scene I found myself in. But I believed it with all my heart.
Chop eyed me intently from above. The room was dark, but I could make out that he was nodding his head from side to side. I then heard him tsk his tongue in disgust and say:
"When a man kneels in front of another man waiting to suck his dick, that man is gay. Nothing more to it than that."
I was that man and it was his cock I was waiting to suck.
"Look, I don't even get hard. That proves I'm not excited about doing this," I said. I got onto my feet and started to unclasp my pants to show him, when Chop boomed in a voice so loud that it made my cock shrink even smaller:
"Damn! I don't want to see yo shit! That'd make me gay as you are. Get back down there, cracka! Half the niggas come through my place go soft when they smoke. If they didn't, I'd be forest green, moving my ho's on 'em," he laughed.
Chop's 'place' was a crack house, although I learned long ago never to call crack crack. That may be an acceptable term in popular culture, but to use it around here marked you as an outsider. Not that I needed any help. Growing up in a white middle-class suburb, I stuck out like a sore thumb. I didn't even try to fit in.
I got back on my knees and waited for him to finish smoking his cigarette. Chop sure was taking his sweet time. He seemed to revel in the power he had over me. At 6'6, and a muscular 260, there was of course the obvious size advantage he had over me. But add in that he was the head of a gang and had a notorious reputation as a dangerous thug who may have been responsible for a spate of recent murders in my city... well, that would make anyone hesitant to be around him.
Not that I knew any of this coming here three hours ago. I had brought with me a few $20 bills and planned to buy only a few rocks and then leave. I was no fiend. Walking up the stoop to the abandoned house, I felt my knees go weak with fear. Before I knocked this skinny black teen pops open the screen door and says,
"What you want, white boy?"
"I'm looking for some. I got money."
"You a cop?"
"No."
He sized me up for a minute or two. "Ok, but you smoke here."
That was not something I wanted to do. I planned on going back to the safety of my house to smoke, but he must of figured no cop smokes crack. What the hell, I thought, smoke a little here, earn my bona fides, and I won't need to anymore in the future. So I followed him inside down a dark hallway. We passed a near pitch black room where someone had just struck a lighter. I could make out a wild looking black man with a fat topless black woman sitting across from him stroking his thighs.
"Yo. In there." My guide pointed to a small room. A closet, really, set up like an office. The guy behind the little desk looked up. He motions to me.
I step inside, pull out two twenties and say "Forty-piece."
"You gonna want more than that later?"
"Most likely."
He seemed to like my answer. Making the exchange, he called out to my guide and instructed him to set me up in the 'big room.' It was there I first saw Chop. There was no mistaking he was in charge, seated as he was at the far end of the room in an upholstered chair while 7 or 8 others sat facing him in the remaining metal chairs. He was telling them a story. As I walked in, he stopped and all eyes fell on me for a moment longer than what is customary when someone first enters a room. To say I was terrified would be an understatement. Any one of these thuggish looking brutes I'd feel threatened by if I encountered him alone on the street. But all together here in this house? My hands began to visibly shake.
"Rap! Get up and vacate your chair to our guest," Chop said to the kid sitting directly across from him. Rap didn't look too pleased about this and shot me a look. I started to protest, saying I'd be leaving soon anyway after I took a hit, but Rap said it would be he that was leaving. Two others joined him, glaring at me as they passed, one mouthing something about me being white.
"Never mind them, they had no mammas. I'm Chop. What they call you?" I told him, and with that Chop welcomed me into in his big room where he continued to speak of his past exploits to his men. His boys, really. Chop was easily in his 50s, they being in their late-teens or early-20s. But he was alpha male not by age alone. It was the whole way he conducted himself. Sitting there with his legs spread wide apart, it looked like nothing or no one could move him. I also noticed that no one in the room dared object when some of the details in his stories became outlandish. And all the while he was weaving his stories, he'd shoot me these looks that made me feel exhilarated. I chalked it up to the crack I was smoking and thought little of it. But he did seem to like me despite there being almost nothing in common between us. I began to fantasize about being a gangster. His gangster. But I had no illusions. I was only a paying customer and when my money ran out I would need to go.
After about three hours it was only Chop and me left in the room. The whole house was now quiet and empty. I pulled out my last piece and said as much to Chop. He watched me melt it onto the ash in my gun, raise it to my lips, flame the end and suck. We both watched white turn orange, then red, then as my head jilted back as the hit took. Through the seemingly endless white smoke I exhaled into the room I saw Chop looking at me, intensely. I studied his dark face. He had a large brow and set back black eyes, a broad nose and thick lips. His hair was corn-rowed tight to his scalp. One cheek had a raised scar running across it to his ear, while most of his front teeth were capped in gold. In a word, he looked and played the part of a tough street thug through and through. I physically felt fear in my body being alone with him, something that ran deep in my loins, near the base of my spine. I don't know what I feared more, the predatory look he gave me, or the fact that that look fatally attracted me to him. He was an absolute beauty of raw masculinity.
The high began to wear off and I felt grounded enough to stand up. I wanted to leave before it was completely gone. He held me back and talked for another 20 minutes until it was and I desperately wanted to get high again. Sensing this, Chop reached into the heavy glass ashtray on the arm of his chair and held up a fat boy between his thumb and index finger.
"Here, this is yours."
"But I don't have any money left."
"You don't need any money. Come here, it's yours." And with that, he placed it on the end of his knee. Confused, I got up and went over to him. It was easily a $60 piece. He must really like me, I thought. I bent down to take it, but he grabbed my wrist and firmly pulled me down towards the floor so that I had little choice but to sit down in front of him.
"I have something else for you as well," he said, pointing with both hands at his lap. He glared at me.
I sat back in shock. I had never messed around with a guy before and the thought rarely if ever crossed my mind. And when it did, it was always in revulsion. But somehow it was a distinct possibility now. I was curious, I'll admit. More importantly, I was horny. It was the crack, I reasoned. Devilish drug. Always made me want to fuck everything in sight, but gave me a limp dick so I could do nothing about it. What Chop was proposing somehow seemed like a solution of sorts, although at the time this was hardly something I could admit to myself.
I rose to my knees, picked up that piece from Chop's knee and placed it into my front shirt pocket. It was all about the crack, you see? I thought to myself. Although if you stopped me at that point to ask me why I wasn't smoking it, I'd be hard-pressed to give you an answer. In retrospect, I was getting high in another way.
I wasn't sure just how to proceed. I placed both of my hands on Chop's knees. I couldn't believe I was about to service another man! Suddenly I felt extremely vulnerable, half-expecting to be cracked across the skull with that glass ashtray for reaching for his cock. But one look at Chop's face confirmed for me that if I backed out now, I might very well get that ashtray for the exact opposite reason. Still looking into his eyes, my hands trembling, I reached up to his waist and began to fumble with the top button of his jeans. He clucked his tongue and began to unzip and slide his jeans off himself. With the little light that made it through the closed blinds, I could see the bulge in his tighty-whities. This was the moment of truth. I decided that my virgin cock-contact would not be made with my hands. I leaned forward and nuzzled my face in his crotch. His cock was semi-hard and curled up in an arc. The scent and warmth of it! My body stirred. It wasn't my cock that was responding, though. It was something else, something deep inside me.
"You white boys all the same. You just love the black dick," he chuckled. "Go ahead, breathe that shit it." I did just that for the next few minutes. I must have been holding my breath at one point, because I exhaled suddenly and it sounded like a moan of excitement and I grew embarrassed. But I couldn't stand it any longer and reached up and hooked my fingers under the top elastic and exposed his manhood, my face just inches away. His fleshy cock instantly began to stir, uncoiling as it slowly engorged with blood. I understood that Chop's underwear had been confining it. Now unrestrained, it almost leapt against my face and into my hands as it grew. I was in awe. Within seconds it easily dwarfed my own cock when I was fully erect. And it still had room to grow! I thought of my own little shriveled cock right now tucked away in my pants. It was humbling. Shaming, really. I'm no man, I thought. Not when I was in the presence of such masculinity. I suddenly felt deeply fortunate to be on my knees before him.
That's when he started in calling my names. Gay, faggot, etc. And that's when I started to protest. I was convinced that because I didn't get hard, that proved I didn't truly like cock. To Chop it proved just the opposite.
"Think about it. Does a girl get hard?" he asked. "No, she does not. That's because she has no dick. And that's basically what you are right now. A little girl who can't get hard. So she has to turn to someone who can get hard. A man. It's a simple equation: you dat girl, I'm dat man," he said, pointing first at me, then at himself.
"I'm no little girl."
"Fine. You a boy. But a... you're a... sissy-boy," and with that he beamed. "Sissy-boy!" He knew he won the argument. More importantly, he knew that I knew he won the argument. He reached down to stroke my head like I was a pet. As I looked up meekly at him, he kept repeating "You a sissy-boy. You my sissy-boy. Good little sissy-boy."
I didn't like that name, but I did like how it made me feel: completely owned by this large, older black man. To add to my humiliation, he stroked my lips with his rough thumb and then hooked it into my mouth. I instinctively closed my mouth around it and sucked, looking submissively into his eyes. His cock leapt up fully erect at that point and tapped me on my chin. What about me, it seemed to say. I pulled his thumb from my mouth and grabbed the base of his cock and pulled the skin down tight into his balls. This made it rise off his belly and stand upright. I took advantage of this and stuck the tip of my pinky into the base of his cock and stretched my thumb towards its tip. I knew that the distance between my outstretched pinky and thumb was exactly 9 inches and could see that his cock extended to just about the knuckle of my thumb. This made him an 8 inch wonder. Eight delicious inches of majestic dark cock. I leaned forward and rolled my tongue around that soft, sensitive area just under a cock's head where it is jammed packed with nerves. Chop shifted and spread his knees a bit to give me more access. He tossed his head back and gave me a "Gawd damn, sissy-boy!"
I stopped, wanting him to look back down and watch as I took his cock into my mouth. Never taking my eyes off of his, I aimed his cock towards my mouth, pealed back my lips, and placed his cockhead between my exposed teeth. I gave him a playful bite. He seemed to like that. So I sunk my teeth into his rubbery cockhead a little more while lapping my tongue on that sensitive spot.
"Man, I tell you. There ain't nothing finer than a white sissy-boy chewing on his first black dick," he said, as I closed my eyes with utter abandon and took his cock in my mouth as far as it would go.
"Tell me you like that dick. Tell me," Chop instructed. I started to withdraw my mouth from him, but he pushed me back down on it again.
"No, tell me with me inside you." Of course I couldn't, the width of his cock filled me so I couldn't talk clearly. But I tried and he gloried in my muffled voice.
"Right there is where you white sissy-boys belong," he said, stroking my head again. I nuzzled my head against his hands and purred, nibbled on his fat cockhead a little more, then withdrew my mouth and lightly kissed his belly. I still made sure to pump his cock with one of my hands to keep him excited though, even when I reached up further and pressed my cheek against his broad chest. His muscular pecs deserved a kiss, I decided, so I planted a big wet one there and went on to kiss his muscular neck.
"Ain't you a hungry little bitch?" Chop teased, surprising me with a quick kiss on my forehead. "Looking to play all lovey-dovey before its time. But you need to earn that, see? That don't come for free, you know. So get your ass back down there, and we'll see about all that later." He was reading me like a book, knowing what I wanted before I even knew. But he was right. I had to earn his affection. So I dropped back to my knees and grabbed his long cock at its very base, sinking both my hands into his balls. When I squeezed, the blood rushed in and thickened his cock. What amazed me was how large his cockhead could swell. It was now literally too big to put into my mouth. So I released my grip and it shrank back down, and sucked the cockhead back into my mouth. I then blew it back up again with another squeeze. This forced my lower jaw down to its breaking point. It was glorious. His cockhead filled every cubic inch of my mouth. Nature never created a more wonderful thing than a man's cock.
For the next ten minutes I tried every technique of cock-sucking that had ever been tried on me, carefully noting Chop's response each time I tried something new. Sometimes what I did fell flat. But other times I saw him respond and I increased and varied that technique. I was learning that being a good cocksucker was all about staying in tune with your man. You were to put the man first. But far from giving you nothing in return, this actually gives you more than you ever had before. You see, triggering a man's desire triggers your own desire, which leads to your own pleasure. So I was in no way playing second fiddle when I put myself at Chop's disposal. Strange as it was, I was actually the true conductor of this little sexual orchestra.
"You doin' real fine, sissy," Chop said, gazing down at me from lowered eyelids. I was grasping his cock with both hands just underneath his cockhead and rigorously rubbing it across the front of my closed teeth. "Don't stop. Keep going," he muttered, sinking further back into this chair. "Harder...faster...." He sits up and grips the arms of his chair, urging me on with a comical facial grimace. I rub faster and suddenly my teeth become very slick as his cockhead explodes in a spurt of hot cum. Chop rips his cock out of my hands and directs the remaining spurts into my gaping mouth and onto my lips, chin and cheeks. It was humiliating. Demeaning. I wish he had more.
I can't exactly say I liked the taste of cum that first time. I've since grow to love it, though. It's one of those acquired tastes. But I nevertheless made a big show of how great it was for Chop. When he removed his hands after his last spurt, I licked my lips and proceeded to wipe the cum off my face with his cockhead, which I then lovingly licked clean while he watch me from above. I felt like I was his.
He puts himself away and zips up. I think: what a typical male! Cums and wants to sleep or take off, when all I want to do is cuddle. He's about to throw me out now, I know, and I feel like crying. He stands up and extends his hand down to me. I give him my hand, real daintily. At least he's being nice about it. Treating me like a lady.
"C'mon, we're leaving," he says.
"Where we going?" I ask, rising to my feet. The top of my head is at his chine - he's well over half a foot taller than me. He pulls me in close, effortlessly, and reaches down to knead my ass.
"Back to my crib. I'm gonna make sweet love to you, sissy-boy."
I'm sooooo ecstatic that this is not the ending! But I was also terrified at what 'making loving' meant in the context of him grabbing my ass. He couldn't mean fucking me, could he? With what he's got between his legs?
I had a lot of time to think about this. The drive from the crack house to his 'crib' took about 20 minutes. He was mostly silent the entire way. I noticed he was driving to a very nice area of the city and I was surprised when we drove up to a luxury apartment building.
"You wait here for 5-10 minutes. I'll go in first and then buzz you up." I guess he didn't want to be seen with a guy, which was ok because I wasn't exactly prepared to be seen with one as well.
When he opened his door and invited me in, I was amazed at how spacious his apartment was. And it was decorated not at all like I thought it would be. Here a successful and respectable businessman lived. Not a dangerous criminal.
"C'mon in, make yourself comfortable. I'll put some music on." Even his demeanor was changed. He put on some 1970s R&B and poured some drinks. Expensive scotch. He could play the thug, I thought, but he could also play the gentleman. I gulp my drink down quickly to calm my nerves and watched him move from room to room, carrying items into what must have been the bathroom. He comes out and tells me I'll find everything I need in there: shower, towels, razors, waxing kit, fresh clothes and make-up.
"Get to it. I'll be in the other bathroom, taking a shower. If there is anything else you need, just come and find me," Chop says. I go in and look at all the stuff on the sink counter. There's even a douche- kit.
"Chop, you think I know how to use half this stuff?" I ask.
"Just do your best. Use your feminine instincts. I know you have them. And relax. I'd never laugh at how you look. You're my little sissy-boy, remember?" I return his warm smile and turn back towards the bathroom.
"Oh, and by the way, Chop's my street name. My given name is Raymond. Call me Ray."
"Ok," I said. I shut the door and I'm beaming! I have no idea what's in store for me, but at least I no longer feel the least bit threatened. Chop, I mean, Ray is actually a nice guy and is really interested in me. But I look down at all this feminine stuff and feel overwhelmed. I decide to deal with it later, after I take a shower.
Turns out that was the right move. The shower made the waxing and shaving go much easier. I managed to remove all the hair from my ass, legs, stomach, chest and arm pits. I trimmed around my cock and balls. I shaved my face very close. I douched three times. I showered again. I put scented talc on my hairless body. I painted my nails red. Even my toes. I applied make-up to my face the best I could: lipstick, mascara, eyeliner and rouge. I even gathered up my hair on each side of my head into cute ponytails. The hair I couldn't get into the elastic bands I secured down with just about the cutest set of butterfly barrettes you've ever seen.
I then turned to the clothes Ray selected for me. There was a baby-blue nightie. Or teddy. Not sure what to call it, but something a woman might wear when she's treating her man to a special night in bed. The fabric was sheer, very thin, you could see right through it. It wasn't a single piece, but had many pieces to it. All the ends had a white fuzzy trim and the bottom piece didn't extend much below my hips. There were little matching panties that fit me snug, but they successfully covered up my flaccid cock and balls. I looked in the mirror at my behind. The panties made my ass look really feminine. Lastly, there were these little girly white socks with frills on the top. They made my legs looks to die for!
Fully assembled, I stepped back and bounced playfully around, my ponytails bobbing up and down. I felt so girly. But I also felt completely ridiculous. That lasted, however, only until I opened the bathroom door and saw Ray's reaction. He was sitting on the sofa reading the paper with bifocals. He was freshly showered and sported preppie clothes. He put down his glasses and paper and looked at me. I became self-conscious and looked at my feet. I was standing there pigeon-toed in those girly socks and clawing at the carpet with the toes of one foot. He's going to laugh, I know it. I wanted to cry. I looked up shyly and saw that he was smiling. No, he was beaming with pride! He extends his arms out to me and says in his deep voice,
"Come here my darling!" I practically run to him, planting myself on his lap and begin swinging my legs off his lap.
"You like?" I giggled.
"Do I like?" Running a hand along my hairless legs, he answers, "Sweetie, what is not to like? You turned out better than I had hoped. Stand in front of me and let me get a good look at you."
I stand and raise my arms above my head and twist my lower body, turn around and swivel my ass towards the ground. He reaches out and clasps my buttocks, slipping a finger or two under my panties. I playfully scamper away and turn to wag my finger.
"Naughty, naughty boy!" I scold, pursing my lips together.
"No hair there either?"
"Nope," I say proudly. I then pull down my lower lip with my index finger and nod my head from side to side. "Only...." I quickly collapse at his feet and look up. "Only I know what you're thinking and don't know if it's possible. I mean, I want you inside me. Boy, how I want you inside me," I clasp my hips, close my eyes and open my mouth and let out a moaned breath. I then grasp his knees and look up at him, saying in all seriousness, "But I've never had a man that way and well, you are so large and I know it will hurt."
Ray takes my hands into his and looks into my eyes and says in just as serious a tone, "We will take it slow. I promise not to hurt you. Come here, sugar." He raises me up and gives me a soul kiss than makes my knees weak with desire. I decide then and there I will give myself to him with complete abandon.
He stands me up and draws me against his chest and we slowly begin to dance to the music that has been playing since I first got there. Ray's hands are on my waist and my hands are entwined around his neck. I feel protected and safe. I can feel his semi-hardness against my stomach and I stir. He asks me what I'm thinking. I'm not sure if I should tell him. He may not like it. But I cock my head up to his ear and whisper,
"Before Ray the gentleman makes love to me, I want Chop the thug to fuck me." He looks down at me, pondering my request for a minute or two.
"Are you sure, honey?"
"As long as you promise not to hurt me, yes, I'm sure."
"Well then, get your sissy-ass down there. Damn, bitch!" Chop suddenly commands, pointing for me to sit at his feet. I do at once. "Don't move, I'll be right back." I immediately think I made a mistake. But I know that what stirred me initially was being with Chop and I very much wanted my first fuck to be with him. He comes back into the room with what looked like a rolled up yoga mat, only it was wider. He unrolls it and tells me to get on all fours and think about how I'm going to get my white sissy-ass fucked by a big black bull. He leaves me alone again.
I have no idea where he went. I turn around on all fours so that my upturned ass will be the first thing he sees when he walks back in. That's when I first notice the full length mirror hanging near the front of the apartment. In the mirror I saw a pig-tailed little sissy-boy all dolled up wearing a baby blue nightie. She's on all fours with her ass arched into the air. I can see she's pondering a dilemma: what pleases a man more, a girl with her knees close together so it brings out the fullness of her ass, or knees wide apart so it serves as an invitation to his advance?
She doesn't have to wait long to find out, for in the corner of the mirror a large black man approaches her. He's dressed thuggish: jeans hanging down off his hips, a dark blue hoodie pulled up over his head, gold chains on his wrists and tan construction boots. In his hand is a chrome-plated gun. The sissy-boy's muscles tense.
"Yo, I hear you lookin' for black dick! That what you want, bitch?" the thug says threateningly to the sissy-boy. He bends over her and hooks the barrel of the gun under her panties and peels them halfway down to her knees. The sissy-boy recoils from the coldness of the gun.
"What do we have here?" he asks, putting the gun on the table and dropping to one knee. He runs a finger along the crack of her ass. It's moist to the touch, but not enough to his liking. He reaches into his front jeans pocket and pulls out a small bottle of KY. He puts a large glob on the tip of his index finger and inserts it somewhat roughly into the sissy-boy's anus. She lets out a whimper and arches her back. The thug takes this as encouragement and inserts his middle finger as well. He thinks to himself how loose and ready this bitch is for his touch. He leans forward and takes a playful, yet serious bite into the sissy-boy's right buttock and begins to wiggle his fingers inside her. As he massages her prostate, he notices she begins to loosen up. So much so that he is able to slip not only the index finger of his other hand into her, but the middle finger as well. With four fingers now inside her, and the four remaining fingers intertwined together, he slowly finger-fucks the sissy-boy with both his arms. She moans and claws at the mat, from pain or pleasure he doesn't know. Or care. After awhile he can withdraw both hands and leave her anus agape. She's ready.
The thug stands up and undresses. He is an astonishingly large man compared to the slight sissy-boy at his feet. At once he's naked expect for his socks, which he leaves on since he never fucks without his boots. He kneels again and places his large cock, which is too large to stand perfectly erect against his belly even when fully aroused, on top of the sissy-boy's ass. Putting on a condom, the thug arches back to see if the sissy-boy is still agape. She is and the thug thrusts forward, slowly and steadily, into her waiting hole. It is not as wide as his cock, but it easily expands to take the large cock head. Then it quickly clamps down, the sissy-boy's neck snapping upward. She cries out in pain and the thug slaps her ass sharply, then reaches around and places his fingers inside her mouth to muffle her cry.
"Take it like a sissy-boy," says the thug, as he begins to slowly work his cock in and out of her. She begins to relax and actually begins moving her hips to and fro. "There, you see? White sissy-ass always accommodates big black cock. That's the way it was meant to be. It's nature's plan." Try as he might, however, he could not insert himself completely into the sissy-boy. As he withdrew himself so he could turn her on her back, I took one last look at the pony-tailed sissy-boy in the mirror. She looked ready for whatever was to come.
Now on my back, Chop arranged a pillow underneath my hips and reinserted himself. I tried to wrap my legs around him, but he caught them by the front of the shins and pushed them down so that my knees were flat against my chest. In this position he was able to fully penetrate me right up to his balls. I didn't know how long I could take his full weight on top of me. But for the moment I was lost in a new sensation. The tip of his long cock was banging up against what I imagined was a nerve in my lower back. This sent exquisite sexual stimulation up my spine and down the backs of my legs. There was also the fact that his cock was so wide that it couldn't help but rub my prostate with every thrust.
"Roy, I have to pee." I said, suddenly feeling a powerful urge to urinate.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. I have to pee bad."
"Did you have this feeling a minute ago?"
"No. It just happened. I don't want to make a mess. Please. Let me up."
"I don't think you do, dear."
"Roy, I swear. If I push down, I know I'll piss all over the place."
"Push down then. I don't care about the mess. Chop might. I won't."
"What? Are you crazy? Just let me go pee, you big brute. Get off me. I'll be right back."
"Push down, bitch!" Chop suddenly blurted out, grinding his cock down hard into me. He looked to have found a spot that increased the pressure I felt tenfold. I tried to wiggle away, but he was way too heavy. Like it or not, I was going to have to pee right there.
"Please, no!" I pleaded. It would be terribly humiliating. I started to tear up and knew that that would ruin my mascara. But Chop only pushed down harder. I felt my bladder was going to burst. I needed relief. So I really had no choice but to push down as well.
"Push! Push harder!" Chop cried, almost like an animal. I wasn't sure if he was urging me on or himself. As I gripped his muscular forearms and pushed down with all my strength I felt my flaccid penis suddenly give. Fully expecting a stream of urine to flow out onto both of us, I looked down at the same time as Chop. What we saw stunned us, or stunned me, at least. It wasn't urine that emanated from my little penis, only this marble-size glob of very thick cum. There was not a trace of that clear fluid that usually accompanies globs of cum. There was only this chunky white glob, which now rested on my stomach just below my belly button.
"Push again, hard!" cried Chop. I did. And again my flaccid penis burped up another glob. And another push dislodged another glob. Then another, and another. Five pushes and five cum globs in total. None of these ejaculations were pleasurable in any remote sexual sense. It was actually a letdown if, in fact, this was the type of orgasm I was to have as a sissy-boy. Oh well, I thought, at least I no longer have to pee. I looked up inquisitively at my black bull.
"It happens sometimes with new sissy-boys. Their lovers have to clear their pipes. Fuck the man out of them, so to speak," answered Roy.
"So I was right to have Chop fuck me first?" I asked.
"I think you were, baby-doll," answered Roy. "I think you were. Now we can make love."
"You mean there's more to come?"
"Oh sissy, you have no idea what's in store for you," Roy whispered in my ear, promising me full feminine release. Two hours later he delivered on that promise.
Looking back I'm not sure where my true desire laid, with the thug or with the gentleman. But I do know that that night put me on a sexual path that I have no intention of ever leaving.
If you like this story, email me at hybb543@vfemail.net and tell me why.