Black Dominance: Accidental Text
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Summary: Straight guy discovers the secret world of white submission.
Note: Thanks to Tex Beethoven and Robert for editing this story.
Black dominance: Accidental text
It was a normal day; a normal boring day like every other day, when I got a text.
Hungry for cock, cocksucker?
I stared at it for a minute; it was from a number I didn’t recognize.
I texted back:
I think you have the wrong number.
I figured that was the end of it, but he texted back a couple minutes later:
I guess it’s your lucky day then.
I texted back:
Sorry, man, I’m not gay.
I returned to playing Xbox when I should have been studying for next week’s midterms.
To my surprise, he texted back again:
Are you white?
What a strange question! I don’t know why I responded, but I did.
Yeah, why does that matter?
He responded back not with words, but a picture.
It was a close-up photo of a big, black, hairless, hard, throbbing cock.
Well okay, I couldn’t tell from the photo whether it was throbbing, but from the impact it made on me, it must have been! I wasn’t expecting that!
I wasn’t remotely gay. I had a pretty cheerleader girlfriend, although I had only been with a few women in my life.
I had never once even considered another guy. No daydreams, no passing fancies, no ‘I wonder ifs’… not a sausage. So to speak.
Yet, I couldn’t take my eyes off that cock.
It was a minute later when another text came.
The question and name calling brought me back to reality.
He texted back:
When you change your mind, and you will, text me. Although I already have quite a long list of white boy cocksuckers… so you better hurry.
I shook my head. The idea that a bunch of white guys sucked black cock was ridiculous.
What bothered me was that my dick was hard, and my head was still swimming from that photo.
I didn’t respond, no point encouraging him any further, and returned to playing Call of Duty.
Yet as I played, I couldn’t get that black cock out of my head.
I grabbed my laptop, logged on and went to my favourite site to jerk off: Literotica.
This time though I didn’t go to my usual favourite authors or to the New page, but instead to the search engine.
After a few searches, I found some stories about black cock. The first one I read was as brazen as what had just occurred to me… it was called ‘Becoming a Cock Slave’ by John Hamilton, where a straight guy picks up a black guy, and before he knows it he isn’t so straight anymore.
I don’t know why this turned me on. In the past it was always lesbian, group and even incest… the more taboo the more it turned me on (even though I was a guy and would never be a lesbian and I had no sexual interest in my mother or sister).
Nevertheless, as I read a few stories of white men submitting to black cock, I was becoming intrigued.
As I was reading my fifth story in a row about white cocksuckers, I got another text.
I’m horny and can’t seem to get hold of any of my cocksuckers.
You have fifteen minutes to be in the last stall, in the guy’s washroom, on the top floor of the engineering building.
It’s now or never cocksucker.
Come and get some dark chocolate.
I stared at the message.
I scrolled up to look at the big cock again.
My hard cock flinched; my mouth salivated.
I wanted to suck his cock.
But want and reality are very different.
I also wanted to fuck my girlfriend in the ass, but there was no chance in hell.
I pondered the mindset of the straight white men I’d just read about submitting to black cock.
They were all like me.
They were attracted to women.
Not remotely gay-curious.
Until they suddenly became very curious.
They denied their hunger.
They argued with their sexuality and moral fibre.
They fought the urge to submit and cross the invisible line between straight and less than straight.
Yet, in the end all of those guys in the stories dropped to their knees; they all took black cock in their mouth; and they all became addicted submissive white cocksuckers for black cock. Did that only happen in fiction, or…?
I googled white cock. I looked at a few pictures of a variety of sizes and they did nothing for me.
I googled black cock. There too was a variety of sizes, and yet regardless of the size there was something majestic, something hypnotic, that drew me in like a moth to a flame.
You better be on your way, cocksucker. I’m giving you right of first refusal and then I’ll go and find another white casino siteleri boy who thinks he’s straight.
Get here now. This is a once in a lifetime offer.
Before I even knew it, I was putting my shoes on. Even as I started walking to the washroom, only ten or twelve minutes from my dorm room, I wasn’t sure I was going to do it.
My erect cock led the way as I felt my body ruling my mind.
My mind, meanwhile, kept yanking my sleeve, reminding me of a few facts:
1. I wasn’t gay.
2. I had a girlfriend. A pretty, hot, adventurous, blonde girlfriend with an exotic name.
3. I didn’t go out of my way for casual sex regardless of the race.
4. I didn’t suck cock.
5. I was completely straight.
Yet I kept walking towards that washroom, now walking into the engineering building.
A strange excitement rushed through me like when I bought a new video game. The initial excitement of buying the game, rushing home, unwrapping the cellophane and putting it in the console was always exhilarating.
Undeniably I felt the exact same emotions (the ‘oh boy’ ones), which only added to my indecision.
I ran up the stairs two at a time, my body and mind at continued odds with each other. Although truth be told, my mind wasn’t helping me slow down any with the photo of the black cock still fresh in my head.
I couldn’t explain it, but as I reached the top floor, my mind gave in by justifying, ‘why not find out if you like it…it’s only one time and if it turns you off, no harm done.’
That last thought sounded pretty reassuring, so I finally felt somewhat calm at my decision to walk into the washroom and go to the stall that I’d been invited/ordered to, even though an hour and a half ago the thought of up close and personal with a black cock had never even entered my mind.
My decision still made no sense to me. I had never once considered a man attractive except in the sense of unfair competition, nor had I ever considered the thought that cocksucking might be appealing.
Yet there I was, willingly and under my own steam about to enter a washroom at ten o’clock on a Friday night to try just that.
As the door to the washroom came into view I paused briefly.
Was I really going to do this?
As I did, I saw a nerdy looking white student enter the washroom.
This gave me even more pause. I sure didn’t want anyone seeing me do what I was considering doing.
I turned around and started to leave.
Yet, as I reached the door to the stairwell I again stopped.
The black cock refused to leave my head.
The black cock was seemingly calling my name and sucking me in… or inviting me to vice versa.
The black cock was calling out to me to take the risk.
I knew if I didn’t do this I would always wonder; I might always regret it. Of course regretting having done it was another possibility.
I sighed, before I again turned around and headed to the washroom. I would just act casual and head to the stall as if I were doing something routine.
I entered the bathroom and was surprised to see the soles of a pair of shoes in the next to last stall and as I leaned down a bit, sure enough, I saw a second pair in the standing position.
My first feeling was disappointment. An intense rush of disappointment. I was too late.
I then realized that this wasn’t the stall I’d been instructed to enter. I quickly headed to the open last stall and closed the door behind me. It was empty. Now what?
As I stood there waiting, I listened as a conversation began.
“Back again, cocksucker?” a voice said… the undeniably rich voice of a confident black man.
“Yes sir,” a voice responded, obviously the nerdy guy I’d watched entering the washroom a minute before me.
“You want my black cock?” the dominant voice asked.
“Yes sir, I do,” the guy responded.
“And you left your girlfriend to come and suck cock?”
“I needed your cock.”
“More than your girlfriend’s pussy?”
“What if I came all over your face and made you go back to her with my special present?”
“I’d do it, but I’d prefer you didn’t make me.”
“I love cock hungry, obedient, supposedly straight white cocksuckers,” the black guy laughed.
I then heard clear slobbering sounds.
The white guy was sucking the black guy.
It was then I noticed that there was a small hole, cock size (a glory hole?).
I knew I shouldn’t.
Yet I couldn’t resist.
I knelt down onto my knees and peeked through the hole.
The hole was at the perfect height to see the big thick cock pumping in and out of the guy’s mouth.
My already hard cock flinched.
My mouth watered.
I realized my eyes were at the exact same level as the cocksucker’s mouth.
I was on my knees.
Directly in front of his cock.
My mouth open.
I watched in complete voyeuristic awe for a minute, maybe two, this act easily the hottest thing I’d ever seen.
Maybe canlı casino it was the taboo of gay sex.
Maybe it was the taboo of interracial gay sex.
Maybe it was the dominant versus submissive thing.
Maybe it was the voyeuristic rush of watching it live from two feet away.
Or maybe it was simply the moment at hand and the fact I hadn’t come in a week… my girlfriend on her period… and when she was she had no interest… not even a blow job. Her attitude was simple: if she wasn’t getting any sex, neither was I.
The slobbering sounds and the balls bouncing off the obviously experienced cocksucker’s chin only enhanced the surreal experience.
Suddenly the black guy said, pulling his long cock out of the guy’s mouth and shoving it in the hole I was watching from, “We have a peeping Tom. The price for watching is sucking, cocksucker.”
I was shocked! It felt like I was watching a porn video and then the guy impossibly stepped off the screen and stuck his wet dick in my face! Without any warning I was suddenly transformed from anonymous audience to active participant with the lights shining on me and the cameras rolling!
And my impulse was to obey, to suck.
I opened my mouth and took his rock hard cock in my mouth without even thinking… just doing.
And I knew in one second, in one impulsive moment, that I wasn’t as straight as I’d thought. Just like a guy in one of those stories.
It felt completely natural to have this foreign hard object with the soft, wet skin in my mouth, although I was grateful to have the wall hiding who I was.
It was so hard… like iron.
It was so soft… like velvet.
It was so thick… like a wrist.
It was so perfect… like a cool sprinkler on a hot summer day.
“Suck it, faggot,” he ordered, which made me flinch. Somehow being called a cocksucker didn’t really faze me, but being called a faggot did.
Yet, I obeyed, beginning to bob back and forth on the stranger’s cock.
“So tentative,” the black stranger said, before correctly recognising, “this is your first time, isn’t it?”
I reluctantly took his cock out of my mouth and admitted, wanting to show my submissiveness to him, as I replicated the other cocksuckers’ response, “Yes sir, it is.”
“And yet you want my cock, don’t you?” he asked.
“Yes sir, I do,” I again answered, a mixture of shame and excitement coursing through me.
I definitely wanted his cock.
“Unfortunately, I already have a cocksucker here and it wouldn’t be fair not to allow him to finish what he started,” the guy said, pulling his cock away.
I felt complete disappointment.
“But stick around,” he added. “Another black cock is bound to show up for you.”
I remained on my knees and resumed watching what I couldn’t have, but still wanted. Feeling like a fat kid not allowed to go into a candy store.
I watched the cocksucker resume cocksucking, in awe of how hot it was to watch. I had watched hundreds of hours of porn and never once looked at gay porn.
Yet, watching the black cock disappearing into the white mouth was hot as hell.
I moved my hand to my cock and began rubbing my cock through my jeans.
“Hi, cocksucker,” a voice said from behind me, startling me. “Enjoying the show?”
I turned around; my hand on my cock, and stammered, as I looked at a large, well-built black man, clearly a football player, “I-I-I guess.”
“It’s really a yes or no question, cocksucker,” the black guy said as he closed the stall door, the two of us now sharing a small space.
There was no point denying the obvious since I’d been caught stroking my cock while watching a white nerd suck a black cock.
I admitted, addressing him as the sudden submissive I found I was, “Yes sir.”
“You want some chocolate dick, cocksucker?” he asked, moving in front of me.
I turned around to face him as I admitted, wanting more black cock in my mouth. “Yes sir, I do.”
“Well come and get it,” he ordered, not moving.
Somehow it felt more intimidating to crawl over to him the few feet, we being in the larger handicap stall, than kneeling in front of him. My hand trembled as I reached up and unfastened his pants and pulled them down to discover he wasn’t wearing any underwear.
I was now staring at the same glorious cock that I had been texted.
Except this time it was completely flaccid and yet still bigger than mine was when it was hard.
I wondered what my girlfriend Tasha would think of such a cock. She seemed to be completely satisfied with my four inch cock, but how would she handle this one? It was more than double the length, not to mention almost double the circumference of mine. If she took it inside her, would she scream in pain or scream in rapture?
I was also intrigued by the fact he had no pubic hair at all. I wondered if that was simply for convenience (Tasha always complained about getting pubes in her mouth when she sucked me) or more for appearance.
I assumed both.
“I know I’m showing you the Mona Lisa of cock,” he said, as kaçak casino I stared at his thick monster. “But I didn’t invite you here for an art exhibition, but so you could become the newest white cocksucker on campus.”
Well that settled the matter of introductions: I knew who he was and he knew who I was. At least by phone number, if not by name. And we each knew what had brought the other one here. Nothing to hide. No pretensions were even possible. This was so different than the dating scene…. How many dates until I get blown? How many dates until I get to fuck her? How much money will it set me back on dates and flowers? This was simple… and the answer obvious: now… the cost… free.
I took his cock in my hand and was instantly in awe of how heavy it was.
I lifted his thick heavy snake, his big black snake, and took his thick head in my mouth.
I was in awe at how different a soft flaccid cock felt in my mouth compared to the super hard one I had tasted a couple of minutes ago.
“There you go,” he groaned. “Become the white cocksucker you were born to be.”
I thought to myself, ‘I’m pretty sure that wasn’t what my mother had in mind when I was born,’ but this didn’t seem the place for a debate.
Instead, I focused on the cock that was thicker than any jawbreaker I’d ever had in my mouth.
I swirled my tongue and stroked the massive hardening shaft.
I focused on the odd exhilaration I was feeling as I brought magic to his magic wand.
A wand that had just turned a straight man into a cocksucker.
A wand that was making magic at this very moment as it grew in my mouth.
From soft to hard.
From flaccid to erect.
From snake to missile.
From big to huge.
I couldn’t fathom how any girl could ever complain about sucking cock. I mean if you compared sucking dick to licking pussy it was a no brainer.
Although I enjoyed licking pussy, loved getting Tasha off with my tongue and hearing her breathing escalate until she came, it wasn’t a very tasty experience.
In truth, impossible to deny, a cock was undeniably tastier and more beautiful than a pussy.
A cock was also a lot easier to understand.
“I think we’ve found a lifer,” he judged, loud enough for the guy in the next stall to hear.
The other guy laughed, “They all become lifers once they fall to their natural position on their knees and worship a higher power.”
The guy whose dick was in my mouth laughed, “Your father should use that in church on Sunday.”
The guy I’d sucked briefly was a minister’s son? Oh, God, now I was sinning.
“Yeah, although I think he’s running out of white married cocksuckers to convert,” the guy laughed.
“There are always more straight white guys to turn,” bragged the guy whose cock was now completely hard in my mouth… even as I tried to process the idea of a minister converting parishioners to become cocksuckers. I mused: ‘Was there such a thing as a pants-optional church? Cum to Jesus? What did communion look like?’ I’d always been skeptical of church and church leaders and this only added to my skepticism.
“True enough,” the guy agreed, before joking, “our work is never done.”
It felt weird to hear such a surreal conversation as I seemed to be proving all their statements true.
I was now sucking, slowly, still getting used to having something so thick, long and hard in my mouth.
I heard the hallway door open again.
“Only one stall left,” a deep voice said.
“Keep sucking, cocksucker,” he ordered, as he explained to me, “You should know that this is where shit cock suckers and bottoms come to get their daily dose of black cock. So whenever you want black cock in your cock sucking mouth or even in that ass of yours, here is where you come.”
“So we can come,” the black guy next door said
“So we can come,” the other black guy said
My eyes went wide at the thought of getting ass fucked.
Sucking cock was one thing, it didn’t seem gay at all to me at the moment… it actually felt natural.
Yet, taking a cock in the ass… that was definitely gay.
Not to mention it seemed impossible for a dick like the one in my mouth to even remotely fit in anybody’s ass, never mind mine!
“Don’t worry, cocksucker,” my guy said. “I won’t take your ass today.” My guy?!!
That, of course, implied that ‘my guy’ intended to fuck my ass at some point.
I pushed that horrifying thought out of my head as I focused on the task at hand… umm, mouth.
I now had only about half his cock going in and out of my mouth.
The third voice asked, “Who’s here?”
“Carter,” the guy I was sucking announced.
“Jimmy,” the guy I’d briefly sucked said.
Names somehow made this more real.
The unnamed guy asked loudly, wanting to clearly show his dominant side, “Mouth or ass, Coach?”
‘Coach?’ I thought to myself.
“Ass,” the coach answered… oh fuck. My heart sank down into my testicles. That was my coach. I played college volleyball and I’d know his voice anywhere. He was an ex-military ramrod who only had one tone of voice… loud and intimidating.
I couldn’t possibly fathom how my no nonsense, six-foot-eight, muscular, head-shaved, tattooed coach could possibly be taking somebody’s cock in his muscular ass.
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