This is being written in 2018 when I'm 48 and it tells the story about how I happily became a slut for black cock.
I apologize for making this first installment as one lenthy submission and not breaking it into parts, but I wanted to write this straight through and share it in its completeness. There will be more to follow.
My Secrets
I'm a white, middle-aged, middle-class kind of guy. I'm college educated, have a nice, respectable career in managment. I have a beautiful wife, three children and an adorable, yappy little dog. But there is a secret side that hopefully my family, friends, and neighbors will hopefull never see.
My Backstory
I grew up in a nice suburban town in New Jersey in the 70s and 80s. We had good schools, interested teachers and coaches, and from what I remember none of the drama that goes with school life nowadays. Sure, there were fights on the play yard, name calling, the occasionally kids getting tripped in the hallway. It wasn't Utopia, but kids didn't commit suicide or bring an AK to school because of harrasing Facebook comments.
There also wasn't a lot of racism that I was aware of. Our language consisted of nigger, Jew, spic and pollack jokes, but that seemed harmless at the time. As I grew up and matured in college and in my professional life all of that slid away as tolerance and acceptance of just about everything seems to have changed completely in my lifetime.
Of course, when I was younger, and in college, and even in the workforce up to a few years ago, homosexuality had its own special treatment. The jokes and the bias and the harassment was palpable. In most avenues of life being gay just wasn't acceptable and wasn't talked about. And that was confusing to me because I knew that I had an interest in men since junior high school. I couldn't articulate it, I didn't have enough education or awareness, but I knew inherently that it wasn't something I should talk about. At a young age I had an advanced reading level and was allowed to read anything I wanted. I remember reading paperback stories (usually in the horror genre) and there would occassionally be gay character or gay plot element which aroused me.
I was greatly attracted to women, I must add. In my neighborhood every boy had a supply or access to plenty of glossy porno mags. We traded our Playboy, Penthouse, Hustler, Oui's without our parents catching on. I loved those mags. Some of them even showed naked men, with large erect cocks. Those captivated me and I felt a yearning...which later on I could describe it as a mixture of jealousy desire: jealous of the women and their hot bodies and sexy outfits, and desire to help a man by giving him relief and pleasure.
I was confused, but I kept that all deep inside.
I dated women, experienced sex and pleasing a woman, and eventually married a great gal. I was harboring a secret however. Years prior I had screwed up my courage for my first gay experience too. I replied to a personal ad in a newspaper that (outrageously) included a gay section - this was the early 90's mind you. I needed to rent a post office box to have the mail sent anonymously to me. My first experience was with an older man. It was typically awkward, and I was confused (again) - it wasn't what I thought it would be (because I didn't have the smarts or experience or courage to actually communicate my desires and expectations). It was weird, but I was glad for it - as long as it all stayed secret.
That first experience did cause me to endure all sorts of soul searching - I crossed a barrier from 'thinking' about something to actually doing it; did this corrupt me in some way, was this a one-way ticket to hell, would people somehow 'know' that I did something gay? All of those thoughts and many others crowded my mind, and I did a good job of pushing them away. Because although I had my inner turmoil, I also learned that, surprise!, the earth didn't stop spinning because of me and the fact that I did something GAY. Life went on.
And that's good, because a few weeks later I'd start feeling the desire to try again...maybe go to a gay bar? I'd repress that thought for a few more weeks, continue to date girls and women...and eventually slip away for some m2m sex.
Now that was risky and nothing to be proud about. Although I was practicing safe sex, I wasn't being honest with my girlfriends (and furor around the AIDS epidemic was deafening at that time). I also was taking risks of being arrested by the police - cruising, loitering, sex in a public rest room - which would have been embarrassing and bad. But I didn't have many options. I had ruled out gay bars because I didn't want to 'out' myself and I certainly wasn't interested in any sort of relationship with a man. I just needed a quickie now and then.
Sex With Men
Sex with men for me at that time was always about me servicing another guy - giving him a handjob in a park car or a blowjob thru a condom. When guys tried to return the favor, I usually declined, or worse, found their rough manhands and tugging to be a turn off and I'd go limp, which was mutually embarrassing. Of course I realize now that if I sought out a soft, thin emo-boy or fem guy, I would have found pleasure in their attention. But I was attracted to 'men', big guys, barrel chested guy. Only those guys had hands like sandpaper. Fortunately a lot of them only wanted to be taken care of and not reciprocate. That was perfect for me.
Of course I fantasized about being fucked in every position imaginable, but knew that it would never happen. AIDS fears crowded my thoughts; the reality of sex in an unlit, parked cars; the risk of catching some other STD - like anal warts (how do you explain that one!); the thought of having my ass torn, bleeding uncontrollably, and having to go to the hospital...and explaining that situation to my wife...all of those thoughts kept anal sex firmly in the fantasy-only part of my brain.
So life went on. Married. Kids. Work. Life. And occasionally slipping out for a hookup. At some point Al Gore invented the internet and options for hooking up exploded. I was careful and always practiced safe sex. I knew that the risk of getting caught by my wife was partly a function of how I managed online privacy and the explanations I gave for 'going out'. It was also a function of frequency - the more times you do it, the more risk there is of something going wrong.
And I did worry about that. So that reality check helped me to keep thing under control. I can estimate that I maintained an average of 1.3 m2m encounters a year for 15 years of marriage.
Interracial Experiences
My anonymous sex hookups were almost all with white guys. Not due to any obvious prejudice on my part, but mostly because of availability. I did remember happily blowing a young, married Indian man in his car at a rest stop on the parkway. I remember seeing the baby seat in the back of his car, the wedding band on his finger, and understanding his secret. I never encountered a black man, but that was about to change.
Courtesy of the internet I had plenty of access to free porn and I came to understand the whole idea behind a "BBC" - internet slang for Big Black Cock. Sure, some of these guys were hung like horses, but so were plenty of white guys. I was never a size freak - I have a pretty strong gag reflex, so the image of literally chocking or puking on a cock was absolutely real. Nothng sexy about that. For me, the turn on is about pleasing a man, and being like the girls in the glossy magazines and giving him relief. In my mind, I was the girl and he was the man, no matter how big his dick was.
And that was easy to accept because although have a nice, fit and proportionate body, my dick is frankly tiny. Not small, but tiny. Erect it's like 4", but soft it's like the size of a stack a five nickles. And that's why it's easy for me to see myself as a woman serving a real man, they clearly have more testosterone in their bodies.
But the BBC thing was only a curiosity for me, not an interest. Most of the videos I saw were about black guys 'dominating' a white woman or man. The guys were stereotypical acting like aggressive 'thugs'. They were rough and mean. Not cool at all. I gag easy and I knew that if I was in that scene and couldn't finish a blowjob started, that I'd probably get assraped. Leading to a trip to the emergency room and a tearful discussion with my wife. Nope, I had no interest in BBCs.
I realized, in my mindful middle class self awareness, that there was an element of racism and stereotyping in that - certainly not all black men were thugs, not all were hung like horses, not all would take joy in hurting a sex partner. I told myself that I'd keep an open mind, the if a decent black guy came into my orbit I should not let bias and fear control me.
Expanding My Horizons
As the internet grew, hooking up improved with resources like Craigslist, Adam4Adam, Grindr and the like. I was able to anonymously chat and email with guys about all sorts of things. I was able to learn. I watched Youtube videos explaining how to give perfect blowjobs. I learned to consider myself a submissive bottom. I acknowledged that I had feminine tendencies (behind closed doors) and I also learned that more than half of the gay and bi men online are turned off by fem men. I lalso earned about cross dressing which was an incredible turn on.
As a teenager I was jealous of the women in the porno mags with their long smooth legs, glossy lipstick, and sexy eye makeup. Now as a grown man I was looking online at young 20-something CDs and wishing I could be them! On two different occasions I even acquired women's clothes, panties, makeup and a wig (thank you Amazon for bringing most of this right to my door, discreetly packed). I practiced dressing up at home when my family was away. But I never had the guts to go through with meeting anyone dressed as a CD, so I threw my 'drag bag' away because I was worried about it being found by my family.
However, I do still remember the anxiety and frustration of practicing with my makeup. I always felt rushed, it was always harder than it looked on a youtube video. And I still fondly remember the one time that I had 5 hours of freedom from the wife and kids. I took my time and shaved my face, and put on lotion, and foundation, and lip liner, and lipstick, and blush, and eye shadow, and mascara and a wig. I beemed when I saw myself in the mirror.
No, I wasn't a pinup, but I wasn't an old hag either. I was pretty. I remember smiling and thinking how good that felt.
I then decided to post an ad as a CD on Craigslist. That was insane, but I had to learn. The rudeness, the demands, the unrealistic expectations from the guys. Geez, why bother? Hundreds of hours of my life wasted with that...and another drag bag disposed of. I set that all aside, as just something I had experimented with but couldn't make happen.
Yes, I'm a Cocksucker
All of my life, the name 'cocksucker' elicited the worst feeling of insult. Boys on the playground having an argument may not really understand the term, but we all know that it was the pinnacle of name calling. In my early days of online cruising, I was disgusted by the ads from guys calling themselves cocksuckers, as if it was a badge of honor. Many of them advertised for any and all and as many as possible, and that they'd gladly drink down the cum! That all seemed (and still does) so vile and debasing...however I've come to consider that a good number of those ads were probably just written by guys expressing their sexual fantasies and frustrations.
However, as I matured I realized that not only do I enjoy sucking cock, I actually dislike a guy playing with or sucking my small dick. When I saw ads from supposedly "straight" guys that just wanted a cocksucker to blow them, I started to realize that "that could be me". I replied and found out that it was true, I WAS a cocksucker and it was no longer offensive to me - the term actually helped tow guys keep their roles clear.
So although I wasn't really hooking up with a lot of guys numerically, I was putting a tremendous amount of time into Craigslist and A4A trying to connect, trying to find a decent guy. I think that hasn't improved any.
After over a decade of anonymous one-time hookups, I started to realize the benefit of having an ongoing friend with benefits. But that proved to be illusive too, because so much of it has to do with chemistry, that you literally don't know until you actually meet and have sex with the person. And then there is location, ability to host, availability, personality, hygiene and everything else that needs to be understood and assessed. It wasnt easy. Plus, oh yeah - most guys lie. Their ads or their replies abound with lies: shaving years off their age, inches of their waistline, claiming to be a "top" when they are actually "verse", and, of course saying that they want an "ongoing thing" when they dont. Or perhaps more fairly, claiming to want an ongoing thing, but only under impossible, unrealisitic circumstances.
But I got lucky, one Saturday morning I found an ad from a guy a few towns away that could host in his apartment (which is a big deal for a married guy like me) and wanted someone to just stop by, suck him, and leave. There was very little info and no picture posted. The ad also said "No pics". I threw an email out to him. He emailed back right away and said "are you free now, are you coming over?". I threw caution to the wind and said yes and he gave me the address. I told my wife I had to run to Home Depot and I hurried to his place.
I texted when I got to his building and he met me in the foyer. We should hands and acted like friends and took the elevator up to his place. He was younger than me, say mid 30s, some type of Asian mix, and had an apparently fit, muscular body beneath this tshirt and sweats. Once inside his apartment he wasted no time in leading me to his bedroom, dropping his pants and pushing me down to kneel before him.
After all the cramped blowjobs and handjobs I'd given in cars, this was a dream come true. I touched him gently, admiring his hard cock sticking straight out. I held his balls and admired their tight heaviness. His cut cock looked beautiful and he smell clean and freshly showered. I leaned in and began to suck and lick his balls, wondering how to get the condom out of my pocket and on him without disruption.
I felt his hand on my head guiding me to the head of his cock, "oh damn", I thought, "he wants me to blow him without a rubber". As I processed all this, his nice cock, his clean body, his controlling nature, he looked down at me and said "suck me baby, be my girl". As I stared into his eyes I felt my lips open, it was like I was hypnotized by those words - I imagined that the I was wearing red gloss lipstick and my eyes were painted, eyelashes curled. I felt his manhood slide passed my lips and into my mouth.
I savored the smell and the taste - not of latex or lube but just his sex. I sucked and slurped to please him.
I focused on the task at hand, the rhythm, my hands, my lips and tongue action, his reaction, his sounds. I wondered about how to deal with this cum. He moaned a whisper "I want to cum in your mouth baby, take my cum baby". The sound a being called 'baby' sent a spasm thru my body - I wanted to be his girl. I moaned agreement as I sealed my mouth around him and increased the action. His grip on my head was strong, he was grunting and thrusting and I felt my mouth fill with his cum. He was still pumping so I just started swallowing and swallowing and then he was done, and I was kneeling and smiling up at him, imagining that my makeup still looked great!
I knew my role at this point was to leave without a fuss, so I lickd the head clean and whispered 'thank you'. He grunted thanks as he pulled on his underwear and sweats, I stood and shook his hand and offered to help any time. He smiled and said, 'yeah, sure' but I knew it was the type of thing a guy says to a cocksucker to get him the hell out of his apartment. So he walked me to the door and I left happy. Knowing that I had taken my secret gay sex to a new level.
Not a Relationship
Over the next year, he reached out to me half a dozen times asking how I was and if I could come and visit. It was always short notice - "now", on a Friday after work or Saturday morning. I was able to meet him 4 more time - all pretty much the same. Aside from the hassle of having to deal with a last minute request, it was great. The dude was clean and sexy, he could host discreetly and safely, plus to be honest I felt a sexual arousal at being called out and acting like a slut.
I also realized that that year i had sucked 7 times - 5 with him and two other guys. More than in the last few years combined. But I felt good about it because although it really wasnt a relationship in the normal sense, it seemed safer and more mature. kneeling on a carpeted floor in a clean arpartment was a big improvment!
Exploring, Expanding
Of course I had a desire to experience anal sex for years. I had played with plugs and dildos, learned about enemas and cleansing. Although AIDS and now HIV remained as concerns, the risks seemed manageable with safe condom play. But there still was the matter of not wanting to get hurt and end up in the hospital. So somewhere along the way I threw away the small pile of anal toys I had accumulated which, just like the drag bag, I didn't want my wife or kids to find.
However now that I had an ongoing thing with a guy, I started to wonder if it could progress into anal.
As I considered that I started looking through Craigslist and A4A differently, looking for guys that wanted to top a bottom. I quickly found out that No One, understandably, wants to deal with a 40 year old anal virgin. Anal viriginity is something that is prized in a 20 year old cheer leader, not so much with a grown man. So I did what everyone else on those sites does - I lied. I created a whole new account on A4A, and created a profile saying that I was a bottom-only guy looking to get fucked. I setup my tripod and took some nice ass pics and posted them.
I got quite a few compliments, but of course many of those faded away after a few lines of chat, the predicatable dialog about 'where and when'.
Then it happened.
A Black Man Responds
Up to this point I had been seeking sex online for a few years, and the dialog I had with black guys was limited to like less than 5 I think. Nothing ever materialized with those few for any of the dozens of typical reasons. But now I had an unsolicited reply to my ad sex from a black man.
The words in his text were to the point: "Mmmm, i want to smack that fat azz and fuck it". I felt a tingly sensation wash over me...somebody 'wanted' me lol.
I clicked to look at this profile which was annoyingly pictureless and just his stats with no further details. Damn, why are guys like that!
He was Black, 11 years younger than me, and he was a big guy - my height at 5-10 but 230 pounds (versus my 165) with a 38 inch waist, no dick size stated. I wished there was a pic, because I knew that those stats could look fat and sloppy, or big, solid and sexy. But there was no pic and usually when guys don't post a pic its for a reason that they wont be dissuaded about, so it's no use asking for one. That's what sucked - ho could have been not showing a pic because he had a gross body, or becuase he was just being 'discreet'. Uugh, there is only one way to find out...
I did notice that his location was listed as 'Newark' which is an urban area that most white people I know only visit if they are going to the international airport. I didn't want to shut anything down based on a stereotype about where the dude lived, so I texted back "that'll work for me" and we started a dialog over the next day.
It was cool, unlike most guys he was willing to actually text and communicate things. He sounded pretty cool, he had a girlfriend so he needed to be discreet, but he also wanted some white booty. He was good with meeting during the day (assuming he could get off work), he was willing to meet in public first, he was willing to get a motel room if I'd pay him half in cash. He accepted that I only had been fucked twice and was 'tight' and assured me that he'd go slow with things. A great setup and out chat went well, i had a good feeling about the guy.
Using my experience with my cocksucker friend, I threw caution to the wind and made plans to meet him the next day at noon at a particular fast food restaurant.
To make sure that we had agreement on safe sex, I texted "I'll bring the lube for me and condoms for you - just let me know what type you like". "Magnum" was the reply. i stared at the word on my phone.
He then quickly added that he's not that big 'down there', but he thinks that the Magnum brand are stronger and better to use if my ass is tight. I jokingly replied than he has to be bigger than me (because in my profile a showed a pic of my small dick at its smallest stage. His reply put a shiver thru me "yeah, saw that...might as well wear panties tomorrow".
He had already made it clear during our texts that he wasnt interesting in touching or even seeing my dick, which was cool with me...but the panty thing was a sexy twist. I realize that he may have been joking, but if I wore them he couldn't be angry or insulted because he actually said it.
We worked out all the details, agreed not to flake out on each other, to be on time, stay in touch by text etc.. I had a million things to do!
Preparations
I called out of work for the next day. I told my wife I had an off site meeting to go to the next day. I went into hyper drive. A trip to Walgreens for a disposable enema, silicone lube, a packet of baby wipes, and a box of Magnums. When I checkout out at the register I wondered if the checkout girl knew that the Magnums couldn't possibly be for me...and the enema told a story too. She smiled knowingly as she rang me up.
I trimmed my fingernails and toenails. I took the enema and a few glycerin suppositories to clean out my bottom. I used hair removal cream on my ass and balls, took a shower and afterward spread baby oil over those tender areas.
I put everything that I needed, including an extra pair of underwear, into my gym bag and put it in my car.
Then before I went to bed I watched too many movies on xHamster showing men, women and boys being destroyed by BBC for their "first time anal". That was sobering, but thrilling too...the thought of getting down like that, ass in the air, and surrendering control to a man for his pleasure. It thrilled me and helped me to JO 3 times before I fell asleep. I was hoping to deplete my sperm so my dick would stay small tomorrow.
The next morning I shaved and used my fingers inside me to get extra clean. I showered, dressed, kissed my wife goodbye and left for work.
Although I left the house to make the pretense of going to work, i now had about two hours to kill. I drove toward Newark to get away from family and friends. I found a Walmart and bought a 3 pack of thong panties in my size for $6. The pack had one black, one red and one pink. I thought the pink would look nice against my bright white skin, so I cut the tags off and put it in my gym bag and discarded the others before I left the parking lot.
I was feeling quite nervous at this point. I pulled into a Taco Bell and made use of their private, lockable bathroom and cleansed myself again.
I texted him to check in and confirm that we were still on. He confirmed so I left and got the the burger place a little early, went in and ordered a soda and sat down. It wasn't a great plan because the lunch crowd was heavy and I looked and felt conspicuous sitting at a table with only a soda. As I sat there I looked at the men coming and going, most of which were black (in fact I was the only white person in there the entire time I was there). I was looking for a 230# guy with a 38" waist. I saw some sloppy dudes, I saw some solid dudes. I wondered if I would back out if he turned out to be some fat ugly troll or if I'd still go through with it.
At the time we were supposed to meet, he texted that he had a problem at work, that he was coming but he'd be 'a little late'. Oh damn, this was starting to look and feel like a damn setup, some 65 year old asshole or 15 year old kid hiding behind a keyboard and messing with me. Probably sitting in the same burger place watching me suffer. Sure, he's coming...
But, that could all be legit to. So I decided to play it cool and texted "ok, but I can't stay here, it's to busy with the lunch crowd, I'll move and tell you where to meet". I like that last one, it put me in control. Of course I didn't know Newark so I just drove around. I found a park, parked my car and went for a walk. A really nice park it was too - nice paved walking paths, benches, big old trees and plenty of grass. A surprising oasis, not Central Park but I liked it. I text him the location, he texted back his apologies and assured me that he was coming. He said i'd need to wait about an hour. Uugh. I started to kill time by walking. About an hour later he texted,"Im on my way, be there in about 20, if my battery dies remember I'm wearing a red tshirt that says Jones Construction".
Oh damn - the old "my battery died" story. The good thing is that I was no longer nervous, this was looking like a runaround but I'd give him the benefit of the doubt. I got to the point where I was walking back and fourth in a shady spot because the sun was out and I didn't want to get all sweaty. Each time I got to the end of the shady spot I'd turn around and say "this is my last lap, if the fucker doesn't show I continue straight to my car and never look back".
I did that last lap 8 more times, figuring one last lap wouldn't hurt much, and dammit I couldn't go home early anyway. Then I saw him, or somebody that fit the description. Black, my height, big waistline, red t-shirt and he was walking straight at me. I saw right away that he was a solid looking dude. Sexy. I smiled and closed the distance and asked "Tariq?" and he said "Hey Dave, sorry about all this man" and we shook hands and all was good. We automatically started walking toward the exit and talked about the next steps. I knew where the motel was, before I came to the park I drove by it to check it out. He would head right over and get the room and text me the number once he was inside. He left and I sat in my car for about 5 minutes. I drove over to the motel but decided to park on the street. I waited for his text.
"Door 4, Room 116"
I got out of my car and took my gym bag and walked up the street to the motel. It was an absolute dump. Unlike motels I had stayed at down the shore on vacation, this place had a odd layout. The building was U shaped around a parking lot. There was a small glass window and door for the office, and otherwise there were only 4 doors inside the U with a large number painted over it. No windows showed, just wall mounted air conditioning units. Apparently inside each door must be a hallway with access to other rooms.
I walked straight to Door #4 with my bag over my shoulder, trying not to notice how out of place I looked and felt. I opened the door and entered into a short, dark hallway - two rooms on each side and one straight ahead. The smell of stale cigarette smoke was overwhelming. I walked to 116, which was ajar, and knocked - "its open" said a voice from inside.
I walked in and closed the door behind me. He had taken off his shirt, pants, socks and shoes. He was solid, thick, strong looking. The room was small, not much bigger than the double size bed. He had the tv on a news channel playing too loudly. I figured out that he didn't want the neighbors to hear me squeal.
"You good baby? You got my money?" he asked - I said yes and handed him a $20 bill, my half for the room. I noticed that his cock was starting to tent up in his boxers and I said "let me clean up and lube a little, I'll be right out" and I went into the bathroom and closed the door.
Did I mention that this place was a dump? I looked at my self in the mirror, I was past the point of no return. I opened the gym bag and removed the wipes, the panties, the condoms and the lube. I stripped and put all my clothes in the bag. I put some of the silicone lube on my fingers and squatted down and worked my fingers up, in and around. I had fit 3 fingers in which I felt would be at least enough to get the cockhead started. He spoke through the door "Can't wait to see that white ass baby, been thinking about that".
I washed my hands and put on my panties. I was nervous and my dick had shrunken and I was glad to see that it all hid neatly away behind the pink lace. The thong slipped nicely between my smooth cheeks. I picked up the lube, wipes and box of condoms and opened the door, he had been sitting on the bed facing the bathroom, but he stood right up. The room was so small we were practically face to face he looked me up and down and I smiled pathetically. I said "I brought these things", and he ordered "Set that stuff on the bed". I did as I was told knowing that he was staring at my nearly naked body.
He growled something encouraging and then ordered "Come over here and hold my dick" I walked close and reached out for his cock. It wasn't fully erect, it was still in his shorts but I could feel it was thick and hefty. I placed my other hand on his chest lightly and was impressed with the solid muscle of his pecs. "Turn around bitch, let me see you wiggle that ass".
I turned my back to him and did my best imitation of a gogo dancer wiggle as he lightly slapped my cheeks. Then he growled "Those panties look nice on you bitch, you know your giving up pussy today so you wanted to dress the part, right". "Yes sir" I said as his one hand started to caress my cheeks, the other hand was now on my neck squeezing slightly, holding me in place. "I can't wait to get in that pussy baby but I gotta take a quick shower. You lay down on that bed - ass up - and don't fucking move". And with a hard swat to my ass he propelled me toward the bed and he went into the bathroom.
I crawled onto the bed and pulled the two pillows out from under the comforter and laid down on my stomach, contemplating my immediate future. I was hoping that the sight on my white ass waiting for him would make him happy. I knew that in a few moments a thick cock was going to be pressing into me, that there would be pain and discomfort, that I was going to be fucked. I felt oddly calm now...it was happening and I wanted it. As he walked into the room I saw he was naked and swinging a big piece of firm meat between his legs. I felt his weight on the bed as he came up and straddled my legs. He started to rub my ass but then changed to spanking with sweeping left and right swipes. Each swipe got harder and harder, each elicited a small yelp which I could contain.
Then hid hands grabbed my cheecks and squeezed them like they never had been squeezed, like imy ass was a phone book he was trying to rip in half. The effect spread me wide open and I felt him looking up and in at my asshole. His thumbs were playing with my hole, "Nice clean pussy, I gotta get in there" and he asked if I was ready. "Yes"
He climbed off and I sat up and watched him open a condom and slip it on his thick cock. "Get over here on your knees". I knelt before him and started to gently stroke his thighs and cup his nuts. His cock was clearly at least 7 inches long and quite thick - larger than any I had played with. "Get your mouth on that and suck me" he said as he pushed his cock in my mouth. The lube on the condom tasted awful but I sucked and took as much as I could until I started gagging.
He wasn't smiling but he seemed happy. The he told me 'get up and turn around'. I stood and faced the bed and he said, "now take them panties off". I did and let them drop to the floor. "Nah, pick that shit up girl" and I squatted down to recover then as he warned "keep your ass to me, I don't want to see that little girl dick of yours". As I stood he instructed me to wrap them around my one wrist like a rubber band, which I did.
He now spun me around to face him, his hard cock was pressed against my stomach. "You gonna be my girl now baby?"
"Yes T"
"How many men are in this room?"
"Just you T, you're all man babe"
"Good baby, now bend over"
I wasn't ready to hear that, I wasn't sure what to do. One hand was immediately on my neck spinning me around with my back to him.
"You all lubed up or you need more?" he asked
I took the opportunity to pick up the bottle and squeeze more on my fingers and rub in into and around my hole. I used a wet wipe to clean my hands and then stood still with my back to him. He positioned me down on my knees on the floor, knees far apart and away from the bed. My hands were on the bed for support but it was a very awkward, volunerable pose. "Arch your back baby open that ass" he said as his lined his cockhead up in my crack. I felt his cockhead exploring and in an instant it was at the hole and with no warning I felt him thrust right in. Uugh I cried but he was in deep and planted.
He had both hands on my waist and he start pumping "Yeah baby that pussy is tight". With each thrust I was bouncing away so he pulled out and said "Up on the bed now bitch I need to get what's mine".
My ass was already throbbing from just a few seconds of sex but I knew it had to happen, I wanted this. Keeping back toward the end of the bed so he could stand on the floor and still get at my pussy, I shamelessly put my ass up and laid my head down on one of the pillows. I stretched my arms out straight toward the headboard. I was surrendering, offering my ass to him.
In an instant he was on me and his cock thrust deep up in me again. He grunted and praised my tight ass. His hands held my hips and he thrust and thrust and thrust. As he picked up the pace it hurt more. My mind was in another place as worked me over. I marveled at how he didn't hesitate to just push right up into the hilt and how different that was from the one time I had tried anal with a girlfriend. Tried.
This guy was owning my ass. I heard myself whimpering and gasping with each thrust. I must have been moving too much because he tighted the grip on one hip and moved the other to my head, pressing his flat palm down and pinning my head into the bed. Now he was bucking wildly and each thrust seems to collapse my lungs. "Easy easy" I begged and he a slowed a little. "You are tight bitch, I'm gonna nut too soon". "Its ok baby, I want you to cum" I whispered. He picked up the pace. He was powering into me deeply and it hurt, but I imgainged that it wouldn't last forever so I submitted and endured.
I felt him slow down and pump differently, i knew he was cumming. "Oh baby, that pussy's too tight..." he gasped, and I felt his grip relax and become more gentle. "You good baby?" He said as he slide out of me. I looked over my shoulder and smiled and whispered "Yes baby, that's what i needed". And he laughed. "You white faggot bitches all the same". I smiled, I knew it wasn't said as an insult, and seeing him stand there with the dark, thick muscular body, with this thick cock still erect and wearing a condom full of jizz, I didn't mind being called a faggot bitch.
"Can I help you with that?" I asked as I took his shaft into my hand and started to remove the condom. I didn't know the etiquette of the situation but it seemed like I should be more comfortable handling something that was in my ass than him. I was happy to see that the condom didnt have brown or red streaks on it. I went to the bathroom to flush it and wash up. When I came out he was getting dressed already, I asked if he had time to relax if he wanted to get again. i know I sounded needy. No, he had to get back to work. He did say "Yo, I gotta get back to work but damn I enjoyed feeling your pussy like that. I'll get better as you loosen up too."
I got dressed quickly (disappointed but not showing it, telling myself to play it cool, no drama).
I gave him a hug and suggested that I leave first, so we weren't seen walking together - and he agreed.
My ass was sore, but I was thrilled. The total time fucking couldnt have been 10 minutes, but when I felt him cumming somehow that made me feel good. i had crossed another threshhold on my sexual life. We promised to do it again, and I hoped he was sincere. But I knew how hookups faded away and how everyone avoided drama by saying 'yeah ,sure I'll call you'.
So I was wondering what he was thinking as I sat in my car and texted him a "thank you, hope we can do it again" message. If only I had known what he had planned for me.
End
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