“Give it a little stroke.”
Almost imperceptibly, Mitch felt Leroy’s BBC begin to grow in his hand. He wanted to kiss him so bad.
The feel of his hand on Leroy’s cock, and the thought of his tongue in his mouth …
“Fuck,” Mitch whispered. He felt it coming, it was written all over his face. He tried so hard to hold it back. “Fuck … fuck … oh, no …”
Tyrone leaned across the table. “You just nutted in your pants, didn’t you, whiteboi?”
Mitch nodded shamefully.
Tyrone couldn’t suppress a laugh. “We’ gonna need to get you outta here and get you cleaned up. My crib is on the next block. Finish your beer and we’ll go.” He scooted out of the booth and walked over to the register to settle their tab. The waitress rung up the transaction. “Don’t hurt him too much,” she pleaded.
Tyrone smiled sweetly. “Aww, now you know we can’t promise that.”
*
The thugs led their willing, eager, submissive prey out of the bar and onto the street.
“Where are we going?” Mitch asked. He looked disoriented, but it was more from the intense shame he felt from cumming in his pants in public than from the alcohol. The street was loud and busy.
“We’ goin’ to Tyrone’s,” Leroy answered. “Not too far. Just around the corner.”
They walked in silence as the city hummed and pulsed around them. Mitch’s pants were a wreck.
Trina was a million miles from Mitch’s thoughts right now. All he could think about was these two sexy thugs walking on either side of him, and their big black cocks. He didn’t even think about texting her to tell her where he was. Right now, she didn’t even exist to him. As they walked, he glanced down at Tyrone’s crotch. He could clearly see it through his pants. It was fucking massive.
They approached a residential building on 122nd street and Tyrone opened the exterior door with a key. He called the elevator, and they rode up to the penthouse on the 16th floor. Tyrone unlocked his apartment door, and they walked inside. He fired up his sound system. The speaker cones vibrated as hardcore rap filled the air. “Have a seat, whiteboi,” he said.
“Can I go to the bathroom first?” inquired Mitch.
“Yeah, fo’ sure. You need to clean yo’self up. Yo’ pants are a mess.”
Mitch locked the door behind him. He took his shoes off and pulled his pants down. A white stain was clearly visible in the crotch of his pants. He tried cleaning the fabric with some cold water from the faucet, but all he achieved was making his pants even wetter. He needed to put them back on, he couldn’t walk out into Tyrone’s living room wearing just a pair of underpants. Besides, his briefs were stained, too.
He walked back into the living room where Leroy and Tyrone were kicking back with a fresh beer. Tyrone sat in an armchair while his boy Leroy was flopped back on the couch. “How you feelin’ right now, whiteboi?” asked Tyrone.
“Nervous as fuck.”
“Good answer,” Leroy said. “You want another beer? They’re in the refrigerator, help yo’self.”
Mitch shook his head. “Thanks, but I’m good.” He paused for a moment before speaking again. “What’s gonna happen?”
“Nothin’ much,” Tyrone replied. “We’ just gonna chill and kick back to some beats. That sound good to you, whiteboi?”
The thugs were silent for a minute or two, absorbing the music. Mitch mentally undressed them.
“I’m sorry for ruining your evening,” Mitch apologised. “It seemed like you two were having a good time at the bar, and my … umm … accident … has dragged you away.”
“No need to apologise,” said Leroy. “Come sit down wit’ us.”
Mitch sat on the couch next to Leroy. “Sorry about my pants. Couldn’t get them clean.”
“That’s cool,” Tyrone responded. “I can loan you a pair. Wait here.” He disappeared into his bedroom for a moment. Mitch sat in silence. He looked at his hands, too frightened to glance up at Leroy’s beautiful face.
“You can wear these, if you like.” Tyrone handed Mitch a pair of basketball shorts. They were tight and skimpy.
“Thanks, but … I don’t think they’ll fit.”
“They’ gonna fit perfectly, whiteboi,” Leroy concluded. “Go ‘head. Put ’em on.”
Mitch stood and began walking towards the bathroom. “No. Put ’em on right here,” Tyrone commanded.
Mitch gulped. “Here? In the living room?”
“Yeah.”
Mitch couldn’t disobey. He pulled his wet pants off and put the basketball shorts on. As he suspected, they were tight as fuck. His dick was shrivelled.
“Whiteboi got a nice ass, Leroy.”
“Yeah, he’s pretty sweet.”
“Take a look at this.” Tyrone pointed to his dick. “Whiteboi’s pussy is gettin’ me hard.”
Mitch was speechless. His jaw nearly bounced on the floor. He could see it slowly growing inside Tyrone’s pants.
“Well, if you’re gonna leave yo’ mouth hangin’ open like that,” Tyrone suggested, “at least put it to good use.” Tyrone pulled his pants down, exposing ten long inches of erect black meat.
Mitch fell to his hands and knees and crawled over to where Tyrone sat. “Can I?” he pleaded.
“Fuck, bitch, I ain’t askin’ you twice.”
‘Is this a dream?’ Mitch wondered. ‘I’m gonna wake up in a second,’ he thought to himself, ‘with a huge puddle of cum on the sheets. This can’t possibly be real.’
Mitch got up close to Tyrone’s BBC. He’d jacked off to a picture of it before, but he’d never seen it in the flesh. It smelled like soap. He sucked the head into his mouth and licked it, getting it wet. Fuck, it was huge. He spat into his palm and spread the wetness over Tyrone’s shaft.
“Fuck, you’re delicious,” Mitch whispered.
“Keep sucking.”
Mitch went back to work. He paid special attention to Tyrone’s balls. He sucked one ball into his mouth, then the other.
For the first time, Tyrone moaned. “That’s some good shit.”
Leroy sat on the couch with his dick in his hand, casually stroking it. “Looks like the whiteboi knows how to suck a good dick,” he said.
“He’s not too bad,” Tyrone responded.
Mitch remembered the many times he’d tried to suck his fat black dildo down to the balls. He was never able to, tapping out about two thirds of the way down the shaft, eyes watering. But that was plastic, and Tyrone’s cock was flesh and blood.
He swallowed as much of Tyrone’s shaft as he could. “Woah, whiteboi,” he said, clearly impressed.
Leroy stood up from the couch and positioned himself behind Mitch’s ass. He yanked Mitch’s tiny, borrowed basketball shorts down and drove his tongue into Mitch’s pussy.
Mitch’s mind exploded. He took Tyrone’s dick out of his throat for a second. “Oh my fucking god,” he whispered.
The feeling of Leroy’s tongue eating his cunt as he bobbed up and down on Tyrone’s dick was too much, and for the second time tonight, Mitch unloaded hands-free, spraying Tyrone’s rug.
“Whiteboi likes your tongue, dude,” said Tyrone.
Mitch took Tyrone’s dick out of his mouth for a second. He craned his neck around to look over his shoulder at Leroy, watching his face buried in his asshole. He fucking loved how these two sexy ass dudes kept calling him ‘whiteboi’. He knew his place in their world.
“Whiteboi fucking *loves* your tongue,” Mitch seethed. “Keep eating my hole … you just made me fucking cum again … please don’t stop … your tongue feels so fucking good.”