A gay story: My First Black Bull Based on a true story.
I was 20 or 21 when I experimented with a guy. We were both white, within the same age range, toned and slender, and bottomed. We met one evening and played with each other in the backseat of my Ford Thunderbird. We made out for a little bit before getting undressed. I remember both of our penises were leaking with pre-cum by the time we took off our shorts. We sucked each other and bottomed for each other, but I didn’t enjoy being a top. We both got off rather quickly, but it was fun while it lasted!
Even though it wasn’t until my 20s when I explored the same sexual relations with somebody, I’d become attracted to men around 15 or 16 years old. Thanks to the Internet, I was absorbed and mesmerized by porn, particularly interracial. The bodies and demeanors of black men made me weak, and I used to finger my boy pussy wishing I was the girl in the videos.
At 25, I met my first black man on Craigslist. He was from Cincinnati. He was tall with a football build. He had broad shoulders, a slight dadbod, and a cock that must’ve been 8–9 inches thick. We flirted through e-mail and text for a few weeks before I drove to his apartment one evening to hang out. I wore booty shorts that night. He embraced me at the door with a hug, kissed my lips, and squeezed my ass, pulling me closer to his body. My ass was fat, but his whole hand could’ve cupped both cheeks. We sat on the couch for a little bit, talked and flirted. He wrapped his arm around me, and we made out for a little bit. His lips found their way to my neck, and my hand found its way to his crotch. I could feel his cock growing in his basketball shorts.
For the next 90 minutes, I was on my knees licking and sucking his fully erect cock and listening to him moan and praise me for being his good girl. His deep vocal communication made me feel soft, submissive, and eager to please him. The more he spoke to me, the more my adulthood shrunk in my panties and I could FEEL my masculinity leave my body. I was born to suck this man’s cock and I made love to it. He took a few pictures with his flip phone before standing me up and leading me to his bedroom. He said he wanted to fuck me before he came, and then ordered me to get back on my knees, so he could cum in my mouth.
This was the first time I’d let a man inside my body. I undressed and slid my panties to the floor. He was still SO fully erect. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t made him cum yet. I got on the bed and bent over, as he commanded. My fat ass was ready for him, and my tight toned body was hunched over waiting for him to enter. He applied the lube and inserted inside me slowly, and with each thrust he went deeper and more aggressive. He took what belonged to him that night. He pounded into my tight little pussy for the next 30–40 minutes, occasionally giving my ass cheeks a smack, and calling me degrading names like bitch and little cum slut. I moaned and whimpered with each thrust, and when asked if I liked his big black cock, I told him I did. He was a god. He was in control. It was at that moment that I craved it daily.
We hooked up a few more times until we lost touch. He wanted more from our situation. To be his girlfriend. I went back to dating females because I thought that’s what I was supposed to do, but my relationships with them never felt the same. I always felt lost. Boy clothing made me feel disgusting, and the relationship choices I made were abusive. Every time I reminisce about my “black bull,” I also think about my other male lovers (there were only two more). One more black man and the aforementioned white guy. And how much better men treated me over women.
Am I attracted to women? Yes. Am I attracted to men? Yes. Am I bisexual? Definitely. But am I gay? Maybe? But am I trans? No. I’m a feminine boy who is still navigating through this world while trying to find my place.
At 39, I’m not the slender guy I used to be. I’m still slender, but I’m thick. I have a stomach that I’m trying to lose, and my ass is still fat and not going anywhere. 🥰