A gay story: Whiteboi goes to Harlem Pt. 09 Wall Street might never sleep, but Mitch eventually did. He woke up early on Wednesday morning and headed back to the office.
There was still no word from Trina. He assumed she was still sleeping in her friend Amanda’s spare room. In a strange, unexplainable way, he missed her presence, but at the same time, he was glad she wasn’t here. He needed to be alone.
Mitch was hyper-focused on work for the rest of the week. All he did was get up, go to work, eat dinner, and work some more at night. He was self-aware enough to know exactly what he was doing — he was distracting himself from life. On Thursday night, he received a simple ‘hey whiteboi’ text message from Tyrone, but he didn’t respond. He felt the need to mentally separate himself from everything, even if just for a few days.
He spent a quiet Friday night at home watching a basketball game as he sank a few cold brews. The Jack of Spades tattoo on his right ass cheek was healing up nicely. After the game, he reached deep into his sock drawer and pulled out his BBC dildo. He lubed his pussy up, loaded some interracial porn on his laptop, and fucked himself for the first time since he’d been inked.
He showered before sleep, still conscious of keeping his ass cheek clean. He made sure to wash his dildo thoroughly before putting it back in his drawer. He pulled the blinds closed before climbing into bed so he could sleep in tomorrow, undisturbed by sunlight.
In another part of town, Amanda took Trina out for dinner and drinks. Trina was still sleeping in Amanda’s spare room, but as they sat at the bar that night, cocktails in hands, Amanda moved her bar stool closer to her colleague’s. Amanda’s hand resting on her work colleague’s knee turned into deep kisses in the darkness of the cocktail bar, and later that night, Amanda fucked Trina in the ass with a strapon. Trina got her anal fix, but in a way she never expected.
Mitch didn’t know about any of this, and even if he did, he wouldn’t have cared.
*
Mitch rose for a late breakfast on Saturday morning. He studiously avoided the café he used to frequent with his wife. Instead of walking downtown, he walked uptown, and found a place that served all-day weekend breakfasts. He found a vacant table near the window before ordering a strong coffee and a plate of eggs on toast. He stared out the window, watching the people and traffic glide by. His coffee arrived and he took a deep slug. He tasted the sweet bitterness of the liquid beans on his palate and felt the caffeine begin to re-energise his system.
His eyes spied strangers walking by, but his mind was turned inward, deep in thought. He was snapped out of his mental trance as his waitress placed a plate of eggs on the table in front of him. He looked up with a grateful smile which the waitress returned, obviously hoping for a healthy tip when Mitch was done.
Mitch collected his cutlery and attacked the food, breaking his fast. He settled the check and left a big tip for the smiling waitress. Fuck, Mitch worked on Wall Street; he couldn’t imagine himself working tables for minimum wage plus tips, and the least he could do was to help her out.
The coffee put Mitch in the mood for a brisk stroll. He walked west, crossing Madison and Fifth before entering Central Park. He wandered aimlessly through the greenery, glancing up through the canopy at the bright, warm sun. He walked until he reached the edge of the Hudson, and then, just for the hell of it, he caught the 1 train from West 96th all the way down to South Ferry. This was the southernmost reach of Manhattan, the spot where the ferries depart for Staten Island. He walked the short distance across to Bowling Green, where the obscure game of cricket was once played, before taking the uptown 6 train back up to his local subway station on 86th street.
He opened the door to his apartment. The room was warm, and he hit the aircon to introduce an artificial chill. He placed his keys on the kitchen counter as he usually did. Something about the counter felt different to when he left, but he ignored it.
There was plenty of beer in the fridge, and a variety of food delivery options were at his fingertips. His plan was to spend the rest of the day at home in airconditioned comfort.
He felt horny. He reached into his sock drawer to find his big black dildo. It wasn’t there. This wasn’t possible. In anxiousness, he pulled the drawer out further. It wasn’t there. He stopped, deep in thought. He distinctly remembered washing it last night after his shower and burying it again at the back of the drawer.
He pulled the drawer completely out of the chest and placed it on the floor. He threw socks and undies all over the bedroom until the drawer was empty. It wasn’t here.
Maybe he put the dildo back in the wrong drawer? He rummaged through all of them, throwing his neatly-folded clothes all over the floor. It definitely wasn’t here.
At this point, Mitch’s main concern wasn’t sexual. He knew he’d still get himself off one way or another. His plastic BBC was a bonus, but temporarily misplacing it wasn’t the end of the world. But as he slowly repacked his strewn and looted drawers, he still couldn’t work out where his dildo had gone.
He remembered the kitchen counter. He remembered something was different. He paced out to the kitchen and discovered a handwritten note from Trina:
‘Hey Mitchell. How are you? I came back to grab a few more things of mine. You weren’t here, which is why I’m leaving you this note. I’m still sleeping at Amanda’s place, giving you some space to work through stuff. Oh, I hope you don’t mind, but I borrowed something of yours. I promise I’ll take good care of it, and I’ll return it soon. I love you, Trina xxx’
Mitch now knew exactly where his black plastic cock had gone.
“You hypocritical bitch,” Mitch seethed to himself as he screwed Trina’s note up and threw it in the trash. In frustration, he kicked the trash bin.
Mitch needed a big black dick in his ass as soon as possible.
He texted Leroy: ‘hey’. As soon as he pressed send, he regretted it. He felt horny, but there was way too much stuff on his mind, and he still needed more time to think.
He waited for a few tense moments, hoping Leroy wouldn’t reply. If he did, Mitch’s plan was to apologise, claiming he sent his message to the wrong contact in his phone. As it turned out, there was no need, because Leroy didn’t respond anyway.
Mitch put his phone to one side. He jacked off to some hot interracial porn, spilling his weak whiteboi load all over his handpussy, but his ass remained empty.
He ate his watery nut before turning the lights out. It didn’t really taste of anything.
He rolled over onto his side and was asleep within minutes. Outside, the city sweated, but Mitch’s air conditioner blasted the room cool.
So much for a hot Saturday night in the big city.
*
Mitch slept deeply that night. He dreamed he was in a room. He didn’t recognise the room; wherever it was, he didn’t think he’d ever been here before. He didn’t feel captured or trapped, but at the same time, he wasn’t quite sure how he arrived here. In his dream, he tried to remember, but the dream wouldn’t relinquish its secret.
The room was brightly lit, but Mitch couldn’t work out where the light was coming from. The walls were painted a crisp, pure white, amplifying the sensation of brightness. The floor was white, as was the ceiling. Despite the sensation of blinding light, Mitch felt quite comfortable and completely at ease. Even though all six faces of the white cube he was inside were identical, he still knew which way was up and which way was down.
He looked around the space. There was nothing of interest on the walls, there were no mirrors in the room, and he seemed to be the only person present. He explored the room, examining the walls closely with his eyes and fingers. He couldn’t find any doors or openings. He didn’t know how he could leave the room, and he couldn’t work out how anyone else could possibly enter, but nonetheless, he felt calm.
The cool air felt still and quiet. Mitch felt comfortable and warm.
Time seemed to pass, but Mitch didn’t feel bored or restless. He wasn’t sure why he was here. He would’ve liked to know, but he didn’t feel inquisitive enough to try to find out. Whatever it was he was here for, he didn’t mind waiting, and he didn’t have anywhere else he needed to be. He had a vague sense of hunger, or possibly thirst, but he couldn’t distinguish between them.
In the real world, empires could’ve risen and fallen. In his dream, Mitch waited in the blindingly bright white room.
In the real world, Mitch’s chest rose and fell with his sleepy breath. In his dream, he was awake, patient and still.
Time passed.
Silently, a door opened in a corner of the room. A wedge of white wall gave way to blackness on the other side. Mitch was sure he’d checked that particular corner of the room. In fact, he’d checked all the corners. He thought there was no way in and no way out, but he couldn’t deny what he was seeing — a door had appeared, and it was open.
For the first time in the dream, Mitch considered his own physical form. He was naked. He looked down at his chest and noticed he had breasts. They were small and perky, but there was no doubt they were breasts. He ran a finger lightly across one of his nipples. He gasped, discovering how sensitive it was to his touch. As he squeezed each nipple, he felt his mouth yawn wide open in pleasure as dopamine flooded his system.
He dropped his hands down by his sides before exploring his genitalia. He didn’t have a penis. Instead, he felt a tiny, sensitive clitoris. He couldn’t find any vaginal opening, but he couldn’t feel any testicles either. Just a clitty. Mitch wasn’t sure which gender he was, but the question didn’t bother him.
His eyes focused on the open door, and for the first time in the dream, he realised he was on his knees.
A naked man walked through the door. Mitch noticed his dark skin, his full chest, his tattooed skin, his strong thighs, his thick neck, and the length of his enormous BBC.
The man stood silently in front of Mitch and placed his hands on his hips. His huge dick waved in front of Mitch’s face.
Mitch looked up at the man. He received no sign, no signal, and no gesture, but he could smell the delicious black cock in front of him, and he sensed a response from him was required.
He placed both hands on the thick black shaft and began stroking it. He opened his lips and sucked it onto his tongue. The vague sense of hunger and thirst he felt became clearer, and he knew what he needed. He felt the shaft begin to thicken and expand in his mouth.
The man remained standing there, in front of him, hands on hips. No words were spoken.
Mitch sucked and stroked until the big black cock filled his mouth with a thick load of sweet semen. He swallowed, but his senses of hunger and thirst only accentuated.
The door in the wall opened again, and another naked man stepped forward. Again, Mitch couldn’t help noticing how beautiful his chest was, how dark his skin was, and how enormous his erect black dick was. Mitch gazed lovingly at the man’s balls. They looked full and heavy, and he desperately wanted to taste what was inside them. His sense of thirst grew.
Mitch looked up at the man submissively before tenderly reaching out to touch his fat black anaconda. He stroked it with one hand, cupping his juicy balls with the other, before opening wide. He sucked the shaft as deep into his throat as he could, and within minutes, his efforts were rewarded with another fat load of sticky cream.
The door opened again, and this time, two men entered. He stroked them both, sucking them in turn before feeling them both explode all over his face at the same time.
Mitch gathered his breath. A part of him sensed what was about to occur.
An entire football team walked through the door looking like they’d just trained and showered. Some were wearing towels, but most were naked. Mitch was surrounded by ten, twenty, thirty, fifty, a hundred black men, each as muscled as the next. Each man tugged his massive black penis.
Mitch was the girl at the centre of a massive interracial blowbang. He jerked, licked, sucked and kissed every BBC in the room until he brought them all to climax. He looked up at the white ceiling and walls as black cum rained down upon him from all corners of the room. It got in his hair, drenched his perky tits, and splattered relentlessly across his pretty whiteboi face. “Give me your fucking cum,” he pleaded. He was so fucking thirsty for BBC nut. No matter how much cum poured down upon his face and into his mouth, he couldn’t get enough.
The room was slowly beginning to flood with sperm. Droplets of semen on the floor morphed into puddles, and before long, ripples of hot black nut were starting to lap at Mitch’s knees.
He suddenly became aware that the room was empty again and the door in the wall was closed, though he couldn’t work out where the battalion of black studs had gone. He looked up and found the room was suddenly empty. The only person in the room was Mitch, though the floor was still streaked with puddles of cum.
The door opened again, and for the first time, Mitch recognised the two men who entered.
Tyrone wore a ballcap and a Chicago Bulls basketball singlet. His sexy dreads cascaded down his muscled back. Mitch noticed the tatts that sleeved each of Tyrone’s arms, and in his dream, he knew that each of Tyrone’s sexy nipples was pierced.
Leroy wore a tight black t-shirt, with gold bling dangling around his neck. His forearms were strong and muscly, and the backs of his hands were thickly tattooed. His thick lips were juicy and kissable, and Mitch noticed a silver hoop piercing adorning Leroy’s right nostril.
Mitch’s clitty twitched uncontrollably. The desire he felt was indescribable. He knew his face was a mess, but he wanted more.
Tyrone waved his BBC in front of Mitch’s face. Leroy did the same. Mitch gasped as he saw their cocks were two feet long.
Even though the pungent scent of spent sperm, Mitch could smell the delicious slabs of meat being offered to him. As he looked up at the two thugs towering above him, he salivated.
“Go ‘head,” said Leroy. These were the first words spoken in the dream.
“We know you want us bad, whiteboi,” Tyrone nodded, slapping his long flaccid dick on Mitch’s face, “an’ that’s OK. Yeah, we know you want these BBCs in yo’ mouf. We know you’ hungry as fuck, whiteboi, an’ we’ gon’ feed you now.”
Mitch took Leroy’s delicious penis into his mouth, sucking as much of the long shaft into his throat as he could without dislocating his jaw. He choked a little. He stroked Tyrone’s cock as he sucked Leroy, looking up at them both. He made sure Leroy’s dick was wet with his spit before he swapped over, sucking Tyrone’s massive dick into his mouth while he stroked Leroy’s wet slab of chocolate.
“That’s some good shit, bruh,” Tyrone whispered to Leroy.
“Yeah, bruh,” Leroy agreed. “Whiteboi’ got a hot wet mouf’ on him.”
Mitch sucked and stroked harder. His entire consciousness concentrated on one thing — making these two beautiful BBCs nut in his mouth, satiating his hunger for sweet black cum.
As he sucked, Mitch looked up at the two sexy thugs towering over him. Leroy and Tyrone seemed to be deep in conversation. He noticed their torsos get a little closer, and they began smiling at each other.
Mitch went back to work, savouring the warmth and taste of the two huge dicks in his face. A few moments later, he looked up again to see Leroy tugging lightly on Tyrone’s pierced nipples as Tyrone threw his head back in bliss.
Mitch felt the two bodies above him draw closer, and he looked up just in time to see Leroy bury his thick, fat tongue in Tyrone’s mouth. The two thugs kissed deeply, passionately and meaningfully as Mitch continued sucking them off.
Tyrone broke the kiss and reached down to grab Leroy’s enormous cock. Leroy did the same with Tyrone, and the two thugs jacked each other off all over Mitch’s face.
Mitch felt like he was being hosed down with black nut; almost as if Tyrone and Leroy were pissing sperm all over him. He felt absolutely saturated with cum.
He woke up as his tiny whiteboi penis twitched so hard it was almost violent. He hadn’t had a wet dream since puberty, yet here he was, awoken from the sexiest dream he could ever remember, having cum so hard onto his bedsheets that his balls felt empty. His breath came fast and heavy.
The sensation of cum on his face lingered from his dream. He touched his face and discovered it was dry. He reached down and scooped up the cum that had pooled around the base of his shaft, and he rubbed it all over his face. He tasted some of it, and for the first time he could ever remember, his cum tasted good. Almost as sweet as Leroy’s nut, and almost as thick and delicious as Tyrone’s.
Was it the dream?
His cock was still pulsing from the echoes of his orgasm.
He got up and headed to the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror. He looked exactly the same as he did before we went to sleep. He didn’t have breasts, and his testicles were still firmly in place.
He turned the bathroom light out and went back to bed, trying to remember as much of his dream as he could before it vapourised. He knew he’d never remember it all, but the image of Leroy and Tyrone kissing each other was tattooed onto his brain.
He knew it was a dream, but fuck, he’d love to see them kiss in real life.
He stared at the ceiling for a long time, but sleep wouldn’t come.
He rolled over and reached for his phone on his bedside table. He found his favourite BBC hypno loop, pressed play, and a thick, hypnotic voice lulled him back to sleep as he replayed the imagery of Tyrone and Leroy kissing in his dream.
*
Sunday morning arrived. Mitch wolfed down a quick bowl of cereal and a strong, hot coffee before heading downtown towards Chelsea. He was in search of a replacement dildo. Sure, he could’ve ordered one online, but he couldn’t wait until tomorrow or the next day for it to be delivered. He needed it NOW. He did his research before leaving home, mapping out two or three adult stores in advance, but also knowing there were dozens of other options in the Midtown area. He placed a baseball cap on his head before striding out.
He found an exact replica of the toy Trina had ‘borrowed’ from him in the first store he visited, but he also found one that was slightly bigger, modelled on Mandingo’s giant pornstar cock. He purchased both, while also stocking up on lube. He’d never used poppers before, so he asked the friendly guy behind the counter who gave him some recommendations.
Mitch was glad he’d brought a big backpack — the poppers were easy to carry, but the dildos and the lube bottles were large.
The shop assistant swiped Mitch’s credit card and the sale was complete, but the assistant got the feeling Mitch wasn’t quite done.
The shop assistant only said one word. “Gloryhole?”
This wasn’t part of Mitch’s plan, but he felt his mouth begin to drool at the thought of anonymous cock. He nodded.
The shop assistant pointed towards the door at the rear of the room, and Mitch began walking slowly towards it. He opened the door. There was another inner door with a sign outlining the facility’s rules. Mitch glanced quickly through the text, but without paying too much attention. He stepped inside.
He’d never done this before. He’d seen countless scenes of white girls sucking BBCs through gloryholes, and while he’d always wondered what it’d feel like to suck a thick load of nut out of a huge, anonymous, black dick, he’d never rustled up the courage to try. He found himself in this gloryhole almost by accident — there was no time to think, and no reason to back out.
No time like the present.
The first thing he noticed was the smell. The rank odour of stale semen and male sweat was undeniable. He imagined how difficult it must be to keep a place like this clean.
He looked around. The room was small and dark, with only a single dim bulb hanging from the ceiling. Mitch was the only person present. There was a small stool in the corner of the room, and a small mirror mounted on one of the walls. There was a basket full of fresh condoms for those who might want to suck, but not swallow. Mitch shook his head in disbelief — why would anyone not want to swallow their prize? He could hear the sound of pornography, but he couldn’t see a screen. Maybe the screen was on the other side of the wall.
Mitch didn’t know, but at the front of the shop, the assistant switched on a light with a red bulb. This was the signal to everyone in the store that the gloryhole was currently occupied, and that anyone in the store who wanted to get their dick sucked was in luck.
Mitch sat on the stool and waited.
Five minutes later, he heard a rustling sound on the other side of the wall. A small white penis poked through the hole. It wasn’t what Mitch was hoping for. He spat on his palm before wrapping it around the head of the small, intrusive penis. He spat on it again before stroking the shaft. He sniffed; the man on the other side of the wall stank.
Mitch had no appetite for this tiny white dicklet. He hoped there were thicker, fatter, longer, darker penises still to come; but first, he had to get this white guy out of the way.
He wondered if this was why there was a basket of condoms in the room? He had absolutely no interest in swallowing this guy. He rolled a condom on, wrapped his fist around the shaft and jerked it until it came inside the condom. Mitch rolled it off, tied it up, and threw it away.
He watched the man withdraw and move away. Mitch waited, hoping for something better.
A few moments passed before another penis poked itself through the wall. This one was smooth, brown, and much longer than the white dicklet he’d just jerked off. Mitch guessed it belonged to a Latino. He was definitely gonna suck on this one. He’d never sucked a Latin dude before, but he loved their confident, macho, alpha swagger. He turned his ballcap around so he could get his mouth right up against the wall. He wrapped his hungry lips around the head of the cock and stroked the shaft, feeling it grow thick and hard in his mouth. He heard some dude speaking Spanish, and as the deep voice reverberated on the other side of the wall, Mitch’s dick grew.
The dude pushed his balls through to the other side of the hole, and Mitch sucked one into his mouth, then the other, while continuing to pump the fat, brown shaft. He inhaled the man’s intoxicating masculine scent. Mitch went back to the shaft, sucking it deep, stroking it hard, and wrapping his tongue around the head. He heard a polite knock on the wall and he knew what it meant. The smooth brown penis on the other side of the wall flooded Mitch’s mouth with thick, creamy semen. Mitch swallowed; it tasted delicious.
Mitch definitely enjoyed that.
He noticed a button on the wall which said ‘water / agua’. He pressed the button and a bottle of water arrived. He rinsed and spat, like he was visiting a dentist.
He sat on the stool again, waiting for another cock to suck.
Ten nervous minutes passed, and he was just about to leave to go home with his purchases when he heard a noise on the other side of the wall. He’d had two dicks present themselves to him so far — one was delicious, but the other one was repellent. He crossed his fingers.
Mitch heard a deep, sexy voice and hoped it belonged to a fat, black cock.
A long, flaccid BBC slithered through the gloryhole. Although Mitch hadn’t been up close and personal with many men, he was sure he recognised this penis.
He was almost certain Leroy was standing on the other side of the wall, waiting to get his dick sucked. There wasn’t much doubt about it, but Mitch didn’t say a word. His head spun with hunger and desire as the soft, long, black shaft slapped against the wall, demanding attention.
Mitch’s breathing and heart rate quickened as he remembered how awkwardly he and Leroy parted last Monday morning. He suppressed a moan as he licked the tip, teasing the head of Leroy’s cock with his wet tongue.
Mitch wondered how Leroy would feel if he knew his whiteboi was on the other side of the hole? He suppressed a cheeky grin.
He remembered the first time he felt Leroy’s cock at the Harlem bar. He remembered touching it under the table, through Leroy’s pants, with Tyrone sitting on the other side of the booth. He remembered feeling how thick it was, how warm it was, and how badly he wanted to feel it throbbing in his mouth and thrusting into his pussy.
He stroked the shaft for a second or two with his dry hands, feeling the weight. It was like gripping the handle of a baseball bat. He knew it’d eventually grow to nine full, thick inches, but he wanted to experience the pleasure of making it grow slowly.
With one hand, he traced his fingertips around the head of Leroy’s beautiful black cock while he tickled the underside of his shaft with the other. He ran his tongue over the sensitive head, and he felt Leroy’s shaft inflate a little, just slightly, as if someone had blown a breath into a balloon.
Mitch took his hands away and let Leroy’s slowly stiffening penis flop back against the wall. He smiled, admiring the sight. In this moment, he felt like the luckiest cocksucker on earth. For a brief moment, he thought about taking a sneaky selfie with Leroy’s cock.
Mitch began stroking Leroy’s dick again.
“Fuck, yo’ hands good, bitch,” he heard.
If there was ever any doubt about who’s dick he was sucking, it had just vanished. That was *definitely* Leroy’s deep, sexy voice. It was unmistakable. And if Leroy’s words could be taken at face value, he assumed he was being pleasured by a woman.
Mitch smiled to himself again. Fuck, this was just too good.
He opened wide and sucked Leroy’s shaft way deep into his throat, choking himself. Leroy’s cock responded to the wetness and warmth of Mitch’s mouth in the only way possible — it grew and stiffened.
“Woo, bitch, yo’ mouf *so* fuckin’ fine,” he heard Leroy mutter. “That’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout, mo’fuckers.”
Mitch saw Leroy try to jam his balls through the hole, but there wasn’t room because his dick was just too big. It was one or the other. Mitch watched Leroy pull his shaft out of the hole and push his balls through. Mitch sucked one fat, musky testicle into his mouth, getting it sloppy and wet with his tongue, before slobbering on the other one.
“Damn, bitch, yo’ mouf’ so fuckin’ good. You want what’s in these sweaty balls, dontcha?”
Mitch didn’t respond. He was far too busy sucking, and besides, he didn’t want to give away his secret identity.
Leroy extracted his testicles and pushed his fat shaft back into the gloryhole. He’d been jacking himself off on the other side of the wall while Mitch tongued his nuts. Leroy’s nine inches of meat was as hard as a fucking rock.
Mitch went back to work, forcing as much of Leroy’s enormous BBC into his mouth and throat as possible, while stroking his shaft with both hands.
“Imma nut all up in yo’ mo’fuckin’ mouf if you keep doin’ that,” Mitch heard. In response, Mitch stroked harder, and flicked his tongue across the head of Leroy’s sensitive head.
This time, there was no polite knock on the wall; just an explosion.
“Imma give you my fuckin’ ghetto babies, you skanky bitch.”
Leroy nutted with a force that nearly made Mitch choke. He gasped for air as he felt thick volleys of sperm cannoning onto his tonsils. He gulped it down feverishly.
“Yeah, you fuckin’ swallow all o’ that shit, bitch,” Mitch heard. As if Mitch was ever gonna do anything else with a load of Leroy’s sweet, black nut.
He let Leroy’s spent cock flop out of his mouth, and just before it disappeared from view, he gave it a loving kiss on the tip to catch the last stray droplet of semen seeping out.
Mitch didn’t want any water this time, and he didn’t want to suck any other cocks either. He wanted to taste Leroy for as long as possible.
Mitch quickly checked his face in the mirror. Although his lips looked puffy, there were no other obvious signs that he’d just been gagging on nine inches of BBC. He exited the booth calmly, walked towards the nearest subway station, and travelled back to his apartment with his purchases.
He entered his apartment and took a quick shower. He lay down on his bed, placing a towel underneath him and his laptop by his side. He pulled the blinds down to make the room as dark as possible. He lubed his pussy up, drizzled more than enough lube on his new replacement dildo, and gasped as he slowly began to fuck himself with it.
He scrolled through saved porn bookmarks on his browser. He found the page he was looking for and pressed play. He lay back on a small pile of pillows, waiting for the clip to start.
As his screen came to life with an collection of sexy dark penises, he heard a hypnotic voice slowly lulling him into a trance…
Big black cock.
Big black dick.
Big black penis.
Big black phallus.
BBC.
You have an addiction.
A black cock addiction.
It wasn’t your intention …
“Yes it was,” Mitch whispered in response to the voice. He welcomed his addiction. “It was totally my intention all along. I’m totally addicted to big black cock,” he said to himself, as he began fucking himself harder, “and it’s all I ever wanted.”
He closed his eyes, focusing on the voice in his ears and the fat black dildo in his pussy.
His eyes rolled back into his head as he imagined Leroy towering over him, pounding the shit out of him.
Mitch remembered the part of his dream where Leroy and Tyrone kissed, and he sissygasmed all over himself.
He let the waves of orgasmic bliss wash over him for a few fleeting moments. Reluctantly, he pulled the big black dildo out of his ass. He stood and headed towards the bathroom. He washed his toy under the sink before drying it off with his bathroom towel. He turned on the shower faucet and washed the lower part of his body, especially his ass crack, before retiring for the night.
Mitch turned the light out and prepared for sleep. He placed his phone on his bedside table. He stared at the ceiling for a few moments, settling his breath, waiting for sleep to come. Mentally, he was preparing for five punishing days on Wall Street.
Just as he was drifting off to sleep, his phone buzzed. Mitch wanted to ignore it — whatever it was, it could wait until tomorrow morning — but curiosity got the better of him. It was from Leroy: ‘hey whiteboi just saw your msg from yesterday morning, sorry been busy hit me up sometime’
Mitch remembered he’d sent Leroy a simple, innocent message yesterday — ‘hey’ — and Leroy felt the need to send an apology for missing it. He squeezed his nipples, remembering the sweet perky titties he had in his dream. “Fuck yeah,” he said to himself as he rolled over onto his side before sleep.
He didn’t respond. Tomorrow was Monday, and he had work.
*
At least during daylight hours, Mitch was single-mindedly focused on work for the entire week. He received one or two short, polite emails from Trina on his work account, asking how he was doing. He replied in polite superficialities, omitting many juicy details.
Trina said she was enjoying spending time at Amanda’s place, but she too omitted crucial pieces of information, including what they were getting up to with Mitch’s fat black dildo that Trina had ‘borrowed’.
At least for now, their situation was frozen into place. Trina made no suggestion that she wanted to come back ‘home’ anytime soon, Mitch didn’t ask her to come back either, and neither of them had suggested the next step beyond separation, which was obviously divorce.
Each night, Mitch came home from work, ate dinner, and had long, deep, satisfying sessions of whiteboi sex. He fucked himself hard every night with the replacement toy he bought on the weekend, but it wasn’t until Friday night that he summoned up the courage to find out if he could Mandingo.
He logged off late on Friday afternoon. A few colleagues suggested post-office drinks, but Mitch declined, pleading a prior appointment. He caught the subway home, his ass and body tingling with anticipation. He wanted to see if he could take Mandingo’s twelve inches. As the train slowly shunted north from the Financial District to the Upper East Side, he recalled how it felt to take Leroy’s nine-inch python and Tyrone’s ten-inch anaconda up his hungry pussy, and the train couldn’t get him home fast enough.
Mitch closed his apartment door, went to the bathroom and cleaned himself out. He went to the bedroom, placed a towel down on the mattress, closed the blinds and booted his laptop.
He placed a fresh bottle of lube on his bedside table and removed the plastic seal from the top.
He felt no need to hide his toy in his sock drawer anymore; it was already sitting on his bedside table, waiting for action. But tonight, Mitch wanted something else. Something even bigger.
He retrieved the cardboard box that contained the dildo modelled on Mandingo’s gigantic pornstar cock. He opened the lid of the box and extracted the plastic. The product came with a printed list of instructions which Mitch immediately discarded. He threw the box onto the floor and held the fat black plastic in both hands. Fuck, it was massive. How could women even take this monumental beast in their mouths and cunts, let alone their asses? For a moment, Mitch wondered whether Mandingo had ever put a co-performer in the emergency room.
The other new adventure for tonight was poppers. Mitch hadn’t ever been down this road before, and this time, he read the instructions carefully. He’d read a few articles online strongly advising against sniffing straight from the bottle, but he’d seen enough porn to know that’s exactly what he was meant to do. But despite porn’s example, he wanted to make sure he didn’t inhale too much the first time. He felt a little nervous. This was all completely new to him.
He’d purchased two small bottles from the sex shop last weekend, both of which were on the shop assistant’s advice. He’d barely even looked at them since bringing them home, but tonight was the night to find out what they were packing. One bottle had a green label; the other, blue. He opened the blue one, holding it well away from his face. He sniffed. There was a faint sense of an aroma, but he didn’t feel any different. He moved the bottle a little closer to his face. The scent felt stronger, but there was still no significant change in the way Mitch felt.
He shrugged before placing the bottle directly under his nose. He took a hit, and the world shifted. He felt the rush as the room vibrated around him.
He needed something in his ass immediately.
He lubed his pussy up in readiness and took another hit. For a brief moment, he felt pressure behind his eyes, but this dissipated quickly as waves of indescribable pleasure flooded his system.
Mitch couldn’t remember ever feeling this horny in his life.
He started watching a compilation video of Mandingo’s BBC nutting all over the faces of eager, hungry white girls. He wished he was one of them. He’d love to feel Mandingo’s enormous penis unload all over his slutty whiteboi face.
He took another hit and his body felt like it was floating on rippling waves of black cum.
He knew it was time. He drooled lube all over the Mandingo dildo and tried to push it in. He was accustomed to girth, but fuck, Mandingo was thick as well as long.
Mitch took another huff of poppers and his pussy dilated, finally letting Mandingo in. He moaned in delirium as he fucked himself slowly, watching shot after shot after shot of Mandingo’s thick, creamy nut drenching the eager, upturned faces of hungry white women on his laptop screen.
Mitch touched his tiny cock and began stroking it. He lifted the bottle to his nose and took another hit. “Fuck, Mandingo,” he whispered. “I love your big black cock.”
He looked down at himself. A laptop by his side showing a ginormous BBC endlessly spewing cum, a massive black dildo jammed up his ass, and his dicklet in his hand. “This is how all good little whitebois should have sex,” he whispered to himself. “Whitebois don’t deserve pussy. Pussy only belongs to alpha men with big black dicks. I love having whiteboi sex so fucking much. I worship Mandingo’s big black cock.”
Mitch took another hit.
He closed his eyes as felt his sissygasm approaching. “I love big black cock,” he said. “I love big black cock. I love big black cock. I love big black cock … fuck, I’m gonna cum for you, Mandingo…”
He opened his eyes and focused on the laptop screen just in time to see Mandingo shoot a load of thick, delicious semen all over some nameless pornstar’s face. He shoved the dildo deep into his pussy as he stroked himself to climax, moaning like a girl.
It felt like the whole world moved as he dribbled his watery nut across his knuckles.
Slowly, very slowly, Mitch extracted the plastic Mandingo from his pussy. He stood up, heading towards the bathroom, but the room was still spinning. His body slammed hard against a wall before his mind reasserted control. He took a few deep, settling breaths before padding to the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror — though he felt like he’d just crossed a sexual threshold, he looked exactly the same.
He cleaned the giant dildo before taking a quick shower. As he washed himself under the warm water, he thought about what he’d just done. He’d just fucked himself with a replica of Mandingo’s twelve inch BBC. He cleaned his pussy thoroughly.
His mind changed track — he was hungry, and he hadn’t eaten yet.
After drying himself off, he returned to the bedroom. He put the lube bottle and poppers in his wardrobe, knowing he’d need both again before too long.
He dressed and took the elevator to ground floor. Walking out into the sticky, humid evening atmosphere of the Upper East Side, he felt confident and happy. The streets were crowded and noisy. He grabbed some dinner from an Italian restaurant two blocks away, and as he sat down at his table with a chilled glass of white wine in front of him, his pussy felt good.
Only one thing would make his hole feel better than a huge BBC dildo: a real BBC.
He finished his meal and went back to his apartment. The Bulls were playing the Pistons tonight, and Mitch opened a cool beer as he sat on the couch in front of the television. He watched as lithe, sexy, sweaty, athletic black men ran up and down the court. He wondered how big their dicks were, and he began to fantasise about being destroyed by an entire basketball team.
He thought about being surrounded by a gang of sweaty black men at a street court on the Lower East Side. He imagined being manhandled into a public toilet block as the team fucked both of his holes, and he felt his cock twitch.
He pulled his cock out, and halfway through the second quarter of the game, he came in his hand.
At half-time, his phone pinged.
It was a message from Tyrone: ‘hey whiteboi what you up to this weekend’
Mitch cracked a smile as he typed his sassy response: ‘aint you got other hoes besides me’
Tyrone: ‘is my bootycall technique that obvious’
Mitch: ‘yeah but do you see me complaining’
Tyrone: ‘come up to the hood tomorrow night and hang out’
Mitch: ‘lemme check my calendar’
Tyrone sent Mitch a pic of his fat cock. ‘see if your diary has room for this’
Mitch’s mouth began to drool. ‘ive cleared all my appointments’
Tyrone: ‘thats what i wanted to hear whiteboi’
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