Black Boy Has Uncommon Moment of Truth
This is a work of erotic fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is a coincidence. This work contains graphic sex and humiliation. Some might find the words and the content of this text offensive. This story is not intended for inappropriate audiences. It is simply written for private adult entertainment and enjoyment. Remember, Nifty relies entirely on your donations so please give generously.
It was late. After dinner, I had had a few beers at a bar in a popular college restaurant. While I was sitting at the bar I noticed the guy next to me, he was a white guy and I was thinking, "I know this guy," but I couldn't quite place where I met him. Then it hit me. I tapped his shoulder, "Hey, you're Billy right? We used to sit next to each other in chemistry class and share notes."
His eyes grew wide, "Oh yeah, I remember you. You're Tyrone." We shook hands. I gushed, "Yeah, man. I never would have made it through class without your notes." Billy smiled, his blue eyes twinkled as he brushed back his golden hair and said generously, "Thanks. You took pretty good notes yourself." My heart skipped a beat at this compliment.
Billy turned and motioned to the guy sitting next to him, "This is my cousin, Ian." Ian apparently had a few drinks and his cheeks were red. He narrowed his dark eyes and brushed the brown hair from his forehead as he studied me and said to Billy, almost with contempt, "Where did you meet him?"
Apparently, Ian hadn't been following the conversation. "I met him in chemistry class last year," Billy said. I reached out to shake Ian's hand but he didn't take it. He swished whatever he was drinking and allowed the ice to tinkle against the glass. He pursed his red lips, "How did you get into college?"
I was somewhat puzzled by the question. What did he mean by that? I felt my blood pressure rise, but I tried to calm myself. I thought, "Surely he didn't say that because I'm black. I shouldn't be so paranoid. Not everything is about race." I stammered, "Oh, I had a few good teachers in high school..." My voice meekly trailed off.
Ian smirked, "Yeah. I'll bet you did." Then he mumbled audibly, "They probably needed a black for diversity." My heart leaped. Ian turned away from me. Billy's face grew bright red. He raised his hands to calm me, "He...he didn't mean it that way. He's had a few drinks. He's not a racist. None of us are."
I was too stunned to speak. I washed down my discomfort with another gulp of whisky and club soda.
Ian pushed his lean body away from the bar, stood up and stretched and announced to Billy, "I've gotta take a leak." He fixed his dark gaze squarely and added with a mischievous grin, "Don't give my seat away, while I'm gone, to any random black man you happened to meet in college, okay?"
Billy's jaw dropped while Ian ambled off toward the Men's Room. Billy leaned toward me, put his hand on my shoulder and said, "He's just joking. He's a great guy once you get to know him. He doesn't really see color, neither do I. He likes all people, black, white, brown, red, yellow, orange, pink, or blue."
I was beginning to feel the effects of all the drinks I had that evening and suddenly realized that I had to take a piss myself or I'd go in my pants. I jumped up from the bar and touched Billy on the shoulder, "Hey, I'm not offended. I know it isn't what it sounds like. But if I don't take a piss right now I'm going to make a mess."
Billy laughed fraternally, "That's cool. I'll watch your drink for you."
I rushed toward the Men's Room, disturbed by the thought that Ian was in there already and I didn't quite know what to make of him. I was a little tipsy, my mind was racing. My thoughts weren't very coherent, "Ian is Billy's cousin," I reasoned, "and Billy is cool. Ian is actually kind of cute in an arrogant way. Not that I think about men being `cute' or anything. But he's probably okay."
I pushed the door open and rushed into the Men's Room. The urinals were as far away from the door as they could put them and they were also around a corner. I had to pass all the toilet stalls. I thought to myself, "Who the fuck would design a men's room this way?"
I turned the corner and there he was, standing straight and erect with his back to me. His smooth dark brown hair slightly parted at the back of his neck as he calmly looked down and pissed in his urinal. There was just one other urinal and it was right next to his. I rushed up and unceremoniously fumbled to pull my dick out of my pants. I was just in time as urine splattered into the receptacle.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Ian turned his face toward me and stopped pissing. I tried not to make eye contact because I didn't want him to think that I was a homo. Suddenly, I felt something warm and wet splashing on my shoe and my ankle. I looked down. Ian was pissing on me. "Hey," I jumped aside.
Ian pressed his red lips together in a smile, "Oh, I'm sorry. Bad aim."
I turned back to my urinal and reassured him, "Oh, that's okay. No harm done. The shoes are kinda old anyway." I felt a wave of shame for being so quick to let him off the hook and forgive him.
Ian suppressed a smile. He shrugged his shoulders and didn't seem quite as sorry as he pretended to be. He continued to piss in his urinal. I couldn't resist glancing over the divider between us. I gazed at the smooth skin of lean arms. I was mesmerized by the milky whiteness of his hands and forearms.
"Are you looking at my dick?" Ian said, breaking the spell. I quickly turned my head away. My heart sank and my shoulders slouched. "No. No. I'm not gay."
Ian stood at the urinal, shaking drops of piss off of his dick head and said nothing. My face felt warm with embarrassment at being caught. The gush of urine from my dick slowed down to a trickle. Ian continued to shake his dick clean. I glanced over at him and stole a peek at his rosy cheeks and the smooth brown hair that rested gently against his face. I thought the features of his face, his thin, dark eyebrows and lips as red as wine, were sharp and rational. He had the face of one of those young Greek gods that you see on statues in museums.
Before I knew it, I was lost in a daydream. Once again, he looked over at me and calmly broke the spell, "Why don't you just drop to your knees and put those thick black lips of yours to good use by wrapping them around my cock?"
My eyes grew wide, I balled up my fists, my pulse raced but strangely, I couldn't get angry even though I wanted to. I felt obligated to protest, but the words wouldn't come. I thought that I should defend my dignity and honor "as a black man" and as a "straight" man, but a more powerful urge overcame these thoughts. I felt a strange urge. I felt the need to follow this urge and find out. It occurred to me that this might be the only chance I'll ever get to act upon a feeling of truth that I couldn't put into words.
My mind raced, "what is this `truth'?" I didn't know how this opportunity opened up for me, but I knew that I couldn't let this moment pass. It might never come up again. I couldn't let Ian get away. I stepped aside and crossed the divider between us.
Silently, I sank to my knees as Ian studied me as if he were studying a new species that he was learning how to tame. My hands trembled as I lifted his thick white cock and put it into my mouth. My lips were shaking. I thought to myself, "I don't know what the truth is, but I think it is this." I started sucking on the white boy's dick.
At first, I tasted the remnants of droplets from his piss but then Ian's cock grew harder and harder between my lips and it felt hotter and hotter on my tongue. He lifted his shirt and I saw the smooth milky whiteness of his belly. He pressed his hands on my nappy head and began to thrust harder in my mouth. "This boy is using me," I thought. "This boy is using me because he is horny and he needs to get off."
My dick grew stiff within my pants and I could feel blood racing through my body. "He's using my black lips because they feel good on his white dick," I thought, "And I'm letting him do it. I'm letting him do it because, what else am I supposed to do?"
Ian tightened his grip on both sides of my head and forced me to move up and down on his throbbing cock with a rhythm and pace that gave him pleasure. The earthy taste of his hard, white manhood in my mouth gave me a rush of excitement. Ian pushed my face between his white thighs and I took deep breaths of his pubic sexuality. He became a young white god to me. The glow of his skin was like entering into paradise. The angelic masculine perfection of his body, which was clean, neat, proportional, and rational, overpowered me with sexual potency.
"Suck that cock, Nigger," he sneered in a whisper, almost as if he didn't intend to say it. I froze for a second, so did he. Then he pushed my head harder on his cock and made me take it. I swallowed the precum that trickled into my mouth. I thought, he just ordered me to suck his cock and he called me a name. I'm on my knees, paying tribute to his truth. My mind told me to be angry, but my body felt like melting at his feet in passionate loyalty and obedience to his youthful white manhood and his ability to command me. Maybe his truth was true for both of us.
I slobbered passionately on his cock, begging for forgiveness for not having done this earlier, even though, before this night, I never even met him. But I had met other angelic white boys before, and I hadn't acted on my desire to submit to them. I bathed his hairy white balls with my tongue and rolled them around in my mouth. I gently and reverently kissed his dick and his balls, surrendering to his mastery over me, indeed, surrendering to this specimen of young white manhood who was towering over me, to master the black race and the entire world.
I felt lost in unrestrained devotion to him as he repeatedly thrust his hard white cock in my mouth, making me acknowledge his authority. He moved his hands to the sides of my face and forced me to look up at him while I continued sucking his dick. Then, with mastery in his eyes, he sneered and let out a glob of spit that landed on my forehead. It oozed down the side of my face and, aroused by his spit, I sucked this young white god even harder.
He looked down at me, apparently savoring the sight of a black boy on his knees, sucking his cock while saliva ran down the side of the black boy's face. He savored the conquest and grabbed a fistfull of my nappy hair, apparently just to prove that he could do it, and forced me to suck him still harder. I offered no resistance, my cock throbbed harder in my pants than it had ever throbbed before.
It was a beautiful sight, a black boy sucking on a white boy's cock. I wanted to follow him anywhere. I felt the shaft of his cock throbbing inside my mouth. Suddenly, with a few violent thrusts and spasms from his body the young white god unloaded a flood of thick, warm jism down my throat. I swallowed as much as I could but some of it flowed out of the sides and covered my lips and my chin. I savored the taste and the smell of his nectar because I wanted him to be a part of me and to change me forever with his whiteness and his youthfulness.
When he finished his business in my mouth, he pulled his softening cock out of my mouth and wiped it over my face. I breathed deeply, taking in his bodily aroma and using my tongue to clean the head of his dick and his shaft. Thoughtfully, he tucked his dick back inside of his pants and slowly walked away, not saying a word, never looking back, leaving me on my knees on the tiled bathroom floor, longing for more.