DIsclaimer: the following, a work of erotic fiction meant to be enjoyed by adults, contains un-pc language and ethnic slurs. If you are troubled by such things, you might do better to move on.
Big Brutha’s Always Watching
Three days later my wanton, carefree actions caught up with me in a way I never suspected they would. I'd seen Mark once since our lust-crazed night when he made his normal delivery. At first, he appeared a little nervous, seeing me at work for the first time after he'd fucked the fight out of me. Instead of making any reference to it, I chatted with the dude about the previous evening's Yankee game. He was the one to bring up the fucking. Looking around to make sure no one was within earshot, he told me he wanted to hang out with me again some night. There was this cheap motel right on the outskirts of town---maybe we could catch the game together. Shee-it, I was all for it! His dick was already drooling as he planned on a Friday night fuck fest.
Next day I had to work the closing shift. It really isn’t all that bad; business is slow after eight, night manager is gone by nine and security shuts the joint up at ten, earlier if there's nobody shopping. Clocking out at 9:48, I headed for the exit right behind the lone cashier, some dowdy old housewife, when the store security guard stopped me in my tracks.
"Hol' on, boy," the big black fucker had his equally big and black arm stretched out blocking my path. "I want to talk with you 'bout something."
"I'm off the clock," I told him, sounding annoyed. "Get me tomorrow."
A dark, chocolate finger poked me dead center in the chest and knocked me back a step. "Ut uh, this be security bizness, boy. Get yo white ass inta my office---NOW!!!"
I was going to argue the point but the big, mean fuck looked serious as a heart attack and I figured I'd better cooperate. Knew damned well I hadn't breached any security or violated any company policy, but I stretched my arms in defeat and stepped back into the store. The stupid fucking cashier had no idea what had gone on behind her; all she'd been thinking of when I crossed that threshold was getting her old ass home. She was in her car and headed out of the lot while I was stuck in the store, a prisoner of the self-important security guard.
His name was Jerome---that much I knew for sure---and he was a complete hard ass. Just because he was on the company payroll as plainclothes security he thought he was Super Cop, and he got a rush out of busting shoplifters and thieving employees. Especially thieving employees. It was like a feather in the baseball cap he usually wore over his shaved head when he busted a worker---rumor had it he got a special bonus for that kind of bust. He was a tall, muscular, meaty brutha with really dark skin tone which gave new meaning to the phrase "black" and kind of looked like he'd been a defensive football player before he got the security gig. Sure enough, I'd seen him tackle more than one fleeing shoplifter to the ground with a minimum of effort. Most people didn't fuck with him anyway; he was an intimidating sort. Nobody on the job liked him and I was no different.
Growing up in a racist household I had an inbred prejudice when it came to blacks---not anywhere near as hateful as my folks, mind you, but I kept my distance from them. It didn't make me too comfortable to observe him turning the locks in the doors and knowing I was trapped alone in here with the big, black fucker.
When he'd finished securing the store he turned back to me and waved a massive, corded arm towards the area where I knew his lair was located. "Get back in my office, boy, we got us a situation."
"I ain't going nowhere till you tell me what this is all about," I defied him. The whites of his eyes got real fuckin' big---I thought the fuckers were going to pop out of their sockets---and big veins bulged at his temples. Before I knew what was happening, he grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and, squeezing hard, propelled me towards the security cavern. I was wailing like a rowdy kid, but he had a firm grip on me; shit, he was practically lifting me off my feet with that simple handhold. He pushed open the door to the security room and roughly shoved me inside. The door closed behind us and, nostrils flared and full of indignation at this barbaric treatment, I turned to face him.
"Sit down," he bellowed in that two-by-four makeshift office that lewdly smelled of black man’s sweat.
"FUCK YOU!" I charged back at him, my male ego bruised by his enactment of superiority over me.
"Sit down," he repeated, even more loudly this time, and gave me a shove which knocked me right off my feet and onto a swivel desk chair. Pissed off as all hell, I bounced up off the seat ready to make a run for it but he easily tossed me back into place. Frustrated by my predicament, I made a quick inspection of the surroundings---hunting for some avenue of escape. There was a long counter the length of the tiny space which held all kinds of mechanical looking paraphernalia, including a dual VCR deck, monitor and lots of dated videotape. The counter was also littered with empty food and drink containers, along with the standard pencils, pads and a set of framed pictures---probably those of his wife and young kids. There were also clipboards hanging from nails all over the walls of the place with various notations and company memorandums. This dude was obviously no housekeeper, because the place was decidedly untidy.
Now, I might be a sloppy cocksucker, but that doesn't mean I'm some kind of wimp. I was at the edge of the seat, knuckles white from tightly clinging to the handles, and ready to spring at the first opportunity. Only problem is that we were locked in the supermarket---and big blackie was the one holding the keys. Even if I was to get away from him for the moment, where the hell was I going to go? I was breathing heavily, sweating profusely and shaking like a fucking leaf, but only partly out of fear. The indignation at having this big gorilla detain me in such a thug-like manner was what was really getting to me. My father, the biggest bigot of all time, and his equally prejudiced buddies would kick that motherfucker's ass once they knew what he'd put this white boy through.
He'd plopped his ass down in the only other chair---a bigger, more comfortable looking leather job on wheels and was powering up the display monitor. He had a big, thick bull's neck coming up out of the scoop of his half-sleeve T-shirt which, despite being fashionably homeboy-oversized, still failed to conceal hugely rounded shoulders and massive biceps. A thick vein rode right below the surface of his dark skin directly over the explosive bulge of each muscle. Even the dude's forearms were thick and sinewy---it always pissed me off how the brutha's appeared to have been born with the kind of musculature we white boys work for hours at the gym to develop. My Dad says it's heredity---passed down in the genes from all their slave ancestors working their black asses off for the "massah" on the plantation. Dad thinks that's where they still should be. I have to admit I’m not so sure about all that.
"You're going to lose your job for this," I warned him. "You got no right pushing me around and detaining me without good reason." It was a pretty brave statement for me to make considering my current situation, but I wasn't about to let some black dude get the best of me.
"I don't think I'm gonna lose nooooooooo fuckin' job, white boy," he replied as he pressed some buttons on the hand-held control unit and motioned towards the monitor. "Take a look, boy."
As the videotape whirred into playback mode two figures appeared in the poorly lit scene, quite obviously fucking like rabbits. It wasn't long before I realized I was watching no amateur video. I was, in fact, watching myself getting banged by Mark the other night out on the loading dock! I stared stone-faced at the monitor, not really watching but too frightened to look in the direction of the fucking security guard.
"See's anybody you know?" he taunted. "Bet you didn't know there was camera's out there on the fuckin' dock? Stupid fuck! How's you think we keep shit from walkin' out the building'? Here I is checkin' out one of the overnight tapes and what I come across but you fuckin' out there like some 'ho. Never took you for a queer boy."
Swallowing hard, with my eyes still trained on the monitor where Mark was plowing the hell out of my hole, I managed, "I--it was after hours."
"Don' matter, white boy, you wuz still on company property. All I got to do is show this tape to the man and you sorry ass is out of a job. And ain't this dude hooked up? Seems like I seen a ring on his finger. His bitch gonna cut off his balls and take him for every fuckin' dollar he got. Prob'ly won't have much though, cos his company more'n likely fire his ass anyways. Whoo-eee, you all in deep shit!"
Without even looking at him, I could tell the motherfucker was enjoying every moment of this. "Who you gonna show it to?" I asked, with my mouth cotton dry.
"Well now," he said deliberately slowly, "That all depends."
"On what?" For the first time since the tape went on, I turned my head to face him. He was leaning back in the chair, arms raised and hands locked behind his head. Those huge biceps looked like they were going to split the seams of his cotton T. He was cheesin' and looking down at me with a twinkle in those hazel eyes. Then one of his big black arms moved and, right in front of me, he reached down and started lewdly massaging the bulge in the crotch of his faded oversized jeans.
Trembling now, although trying hard not to show it, the reality of the cost of his silence became obvious. Although unable to tear my widened eyes from the basket between his spread legs, I slowly shook my head from side to side and muttered, "No way."
"C'mon, white boy, you know you want to look at it," he taunted me. Somehow, on unsteady feet, I managed to rise from the chair and back up the entirety of two steps until I hit the wall behind me, still shaking my head in the negative. Damn my hormones, he was right! Despite the show I was putting on, I wanted a peek at that black cock. Sure, I'd seen some dark dick in the high school locker room, but I'd never feasted my eyes on a grown black man's piece before. Completely conflicted, I stood there with my back against the wall perspiring like a sonofabitch as he unhooked the metal button at the waistband of his jeans and lowered the zipper. With fat fingers hooked into the waist, he raised his hips a bit and slid those jeans and boxers down around his ankles, then settled back into his former position of one arm behind head, other toying with his crotch.
I went slack jawed and my eyes must've bugged out of my head when I got my first look at the enormous piece of chocolate sausage resting like some sort of slumbering python against his meaty thigh. Even in its flaccid state it was an astonishing length---anywhere from eight to nine inches, I quickly estimated. Big fuckin' elephant balls hung between his legs, black as coal and resting on the edge of the chair. The first three-quarters of his massive black meat were just about as dark as his sac but when it got maybe within two inches or so of the fat, mushroom shaped helmet---probably where he'd been circumcised---the coloring became lighter and mocha-like. There were thick blue veins crisscrossed like a roadmap all under the dark surface of his big, beautiful black cock, which began to stir under my scrutiny. Hefting the heavy equipment in the palm of his strong hand, he began to stroke the mighty shaft before my wondrous eyes.
"Get down here and show Samson some lovin'," he commanded me.
Hypnotically, I took a couple steps forward and then, regaining my senses, thrust my body back against the wall, shaking my head even more dramatically than before. Although it was the biggest, healthiest piece of meat I'd ever seen, it was still black dick. I could hear my father's voice ringing in my ears; all his admonitions about how laying down with a nigger was like laying down with an animal. Of how you'd never get clean again if you got soiled by a nigger. And yet the sight of him was making my mouth water and my asshole quiver.
"You want to suck on this dick, white boy, you know you does," he taunted me as he worked his organ towards full erection. "And from the looks of that tape, you must be a pretty good cocksucker."
"I don't suck nigger cock," I spat out at him, amazed at my nerve.
Instead of getting up and beating the shit out of me, like I thought he might, those big juicy "soup-coolers" of his just spread in a cheesy grin and he nodded at my crotch. "For a white boy who don’t suck nigger cock, sho 'nuff looks like you got one raging hard-on."
He wasn't kidding; my dick was stiff as a board, leaking like a faucet and straining against the material of my jeans. Jerome's gigantic fuck-pole had risen like some ebony skyscraper from his wiry-haired loins, very near to full height, its thick blue veins standing out along the shaft and throbbing with anticipation. The skin of his plum-sized cockhead was smooth as dark marble and glistening in the dim light supplied by the flickering images on the monitor. That motherfucker looked to be every bit of, if not more than, a foot long and near fat around as my wrist! Only in my wildest fantasies had I come close to servicing such a dangerous looking dong!! Opportunity was presenting itself mere feet away from me, yet I remained full of conflicting emotions.
"You suck me off, white boy, and I give you the tape. How 'bout that?" He was sweetening the pot. For certain, I didn't want the whole fucking town to know I was a voracious cocksucker (well, perhaps some of the town) but I knew the trouble such a scandalous revelation could make for Mark. His estranged wife would have all the ammunition she would need to take him to the cleaners if the video fell into her hands. And I had little doubt that Jerome would revel in trading the tape for cash from the delivery guy's missus. Hell, he was sure enough willing to humiliate me by forcing me to feed on black cock (fantastic cock that it was) in exchange for the tape. Who knew what else he might do if he had any more time to ponder his blackmail options?
"You swear you'd give it to me?" My resolve was weakening; his cock looked so damned fine!
"Said so, didn’t I?"
After one more moment of indecision I sank to my knees and crawled into the space created by the spread of his legs. His huge man-meat was right there in front of me, lightly swaying from his hairy groin. Gingerly reaching forward with both hands I wrapped my fingers around his colossal cockstalk and began to stroke. The black beauty was so thick that I was unable to make my fingers meet around it, but I managed to move them all over his huge organ. The ridges of those heavy, distended cock-veins played along my sweaty palms as I worked him with increasing confidence. Jerome had unhanded himself soon as I got down there and he was leaning back again with hands tucked behind his head, cheesin' and enjoying his dominance over this white boy.
Growing even more ballsy, I hefted his behemoth ball bag with one hand while I continued to jerk his rod with the other. The sac containing those egg-sized nuts was coated with man-sweat and weighed heavily in my palm as I steadily massaged it. Before long the fleshy lips of his piss hole opened and a few drops of pre-cum pulsed out to coat the fat mushroom shaped cockhead. Moving in, I applied my lips to his heated length and nibbled on the crisscross network of deep blue veins running all over the dark shaft. Surprised to find the cock tasted quite good (somehow I'd always figured black cock would have a bad flavor), I began lapping it with long swipes of my tongue. Jerome responded the second my mouth was on him; I could detect a deep, satisfied growl as his strong body began grinding about on the chair. A steadier flow of pre-cum began oozing out, gliding over the head and draining down his hardened shaft. Throwing caution entirely to the wind, I took one long swipe up the thick center vein, circled the thick rim of his glans and washed the surface of that steamy cockhead. That pre-cum tasted great; thick, rich and entirely manly! I knew I had passed the point of return by devouring forbidden fruit---I was no better than white trash now!
Opening wide, I took the entirety of his chocolate plum into my mouth and, latching my lips under the rim, started sucking on him. Pre-cum was constantly running into my steamy throat and I hungrily swallowed it down, filling my belly with black babies. The huge cock stretched my jaws impossibly wide as I devoured inch after inch, sucking nearly half of his length down into my face hole. I was snorting' like a pig, nostrils widely flared as I was forced to breathe solely through them. Spittle was flying from the corners of my mouth as I frantically bobbed my head up and down on the enormous black sex tool. My right hand was stroking the lower, darker portion of his rod and my left was roaming all over his thigh, down the side of his buttocks and up under his shirt. Grasping me by the back of the head, he forced me down even lower on the veiny monster and I managed to swallow another couple inches of black meat. Then he started thrusting his hips up towards my face, impaling my mouth and mercilessly fucking my throat. I met him lunge for lunge, sucking and slurping on his invading cannon like it was the greatest cock in the world! Which, at the moment, it was.
"Oh yeah, that’s it white boy, take that big black dick in yo mouth! Shee-it, you a better cocksucker then I thought you wuz. My bitch cain't even take that much dick! C'mon, white boy, make me cum. Make me cum real fuckin' good!"
He wasn't the only one needed to pop a nut; my own balls were boiling and my raging hard-on needed some release. Dislodging his huge throbber from my soaked throat I got to my feet in front of him, tearing off every article of clothing until I was buck-assed naked. My overly excited cock was leaking a virtual river of pre-cum. I took my hot meat in hand and began stroking it as my eyes fixed on the gigantic appendage of the horny beast. Didn't matter anymore if I was forever marked as a nigger lover; I had to have more of that fat cock. And I knew just how I wanted it!
Stepping forward again, I turned my back to him and positioned my body straddling his big, meaty outstretched thighs. Reaching back, I grasped his throbbing meat and aimed the big fucker at my small, puckered target. Rubbing the fleshy cock head all over my quivering hole, I liberally coated myself with his more-than-abundant pre-cum to insure a slippery entrance.
"Fuck yeah, white boy," he gasped as he placed his big black hands on my hips to steady me. "Ride that fuckin cock!"
Calf muscles bulged as I stood on the tips of my toes, hairy athletic legs widely spread to either side of him, I lowered myself onto his mammoth weapon. The blunt, chocolate mushroom spread my hungry hole wide and I groaned with satisfaction at the welcome entry. Grinding my talented ass against him I felt the wet head slip even deeper inside me, heating my hole with a fiery intensity. Pausing for only a few moments with that fucker's big black dick lodged inside me, I reached around to spread my tight cheeks wide and, taking a deep anticipatory breath, allowed my body to drop like dead weight---successfully impaling my ass on his third leg!
It felt like some fuckin' massive torpedo had mercilessly plowed its way through me and punched deep into my guts. Letting out a guttural howl of pained ecstasy, I fell back against him and started moaning like a school girl who'd just had her cherry busted. His huge black hands came around to rub all over my sweaty naked torso and latched onto my pert, meaty nipples. He was massaging them real nice, probably the way he did with his wife during their private sex sessions. This just made me moan and groan even louder, writhing my sweat-soaked body against his, prompting the man to work my tits even harder. Jerome's face was right next to mine, his hot breath muttering' all kinds of raunchy jive into my ear, but I was too far gone---crazed by the hot poker wildly throbbing inside my ravaged rectum.
Finally regaining the wind which had been completely knocked out of me, I began to gyrate my hot man-pussy against the astonishingly proportioned horse-cock buried to the balls inside me. Jockeying back into a position of control I slowly lifted myself up, feeling every fucking inch of that black bomber coursing through my shitter and sliding out of my swollen ass lips. My eyes rolled back in my head, which itself fell back on my broad shoulders from the feeling of sheer nirvana. As I dropped back down onto him, slower this time, Jerome assisted by raising his hips and driving his shaft further into me. He had me by the shoulders now and was moaning every bit as much as me when we reached rock bottom.
"Damn, you got a fine pussy, boy!" he exclaimed in a breathless rush, which prompted me to pick up the pace. Soon I was humping my ass over the full length of his beastly black behemoth. His hands were all over my finely contoured back as I rode his fat hog with renewed vigor. Each downward plunge felt like I was being ripped a brand new ass hole. That nigger cock was making me feel like I had never felt before. I knew damned well that if my Dad saw what I was doin' he would cock his pistol, plant it right between my eyes and blow my brains out for fucking a nigger. But right then and there I didn't care; I was beyond shame. I was in total, mindless sexual bliss and the cock raging inside me was absolutely the most spectacular cock in the universe!
Up and down I went, like on some kind of human pogo stick, harder and faster, feeling the fleshy head slamming into my belly and rearranging my insides. My ass cheeks slapped against his groin and I felt his wiry bush brush my white, wet skin. My lungs were roaring in my chest from all the exertion and I was soaked with perspiration from head to toe. Using every bit of my energy to fuck that huge cock, I barely realized the sudden shuddering of my body was signaling my oncoming climax. With a strangled cry I shot a stream of white hot cum which sailed near-ceiling high. My second ball burstin' blast splattered against the monitor, which had long ago gone to static after, unknown to either of us, the surveillance tape ended. I blew off two more gut wrenching blasts, but never once throughout my orgasm did I cease thrusting my whore's ass onto that prize stallion cock.
"FUCK, BOY! I'M GONNA FUCKIN' CUM UP YOUR FUCKIN' ASS! AW, SHEEE-ITT, HERE IT CUMS!!!!" He was thrashing around below me and thrusting his loins up against my wide-open hole. Grabbing me around the waist, he pulled me against his lap and I sat down hard, burying every inch of that black monster in the warm folds of my asshole. With my inner muscles gripping him like a tight, warm glove, I could feel his already huge cock swelling even larger---and then he began blasting his load deep inside my bowels, filling my guts with nigger cum. I didn't think he was ever gonna stop---that black motherfucker's ball bag sure held a shitload of jungle juice! Just when I thought for sure he was never gonna quit, Jerome let out one hell of an exhausted sigh and fell back onto the chair, signaling the end of his explosive orgasm.
I kept his cock inside me for awhile longer, unwilling to let it go. When I finally uncorked my ass and got up off him it was a little difficult to walk. Jerome was back to being the mean nigger security guard now that he'd gotten his fuckin' rocks off. But he gave me the tape, as promised, which I secreted well back in a dark corner of my bedroom closet. I just couldn't bring myself to destroy the visual memory of my fuck session with Mark---I've jerked off watching it many times since. I had to bang out of work the next day 'cos of all the nigger jizz that was running out of my asshole. When Dad asked what was wrong with me I told him I had a stomach ache. If he only knew what was really up there in my belly, I'd be one dead white boy!
A week or so later, several days after I'd spent another fuck-filled night with handsome Mark, Jerome and his bad-ass cop wannabe attitude stopped me again at closing. A rush of exhilaration coursed through my body as I was led into the security room and plopped down into a familiar chair. Seems like he had another tape to show me. His big fingers worked the controls and soon the monitor filled with the image of yours truly sucking on a monstrous black cock. Quickly glancing up into the corners of the cubicle I detected the cameras I hadn't noticed on my last visit to the room.
"Now unless you want your Daddy to see this tape," he said as he began unfastening his jeans, "you gets your white ass down here and show Samson some more of your lovin'.
This time I didn’t fight The Power.
