Date: Tue, 14 Nov 2023 05:15:23 -0600 From: Evan Williams Subject: Backstreets of the City Backstreets of the City This story is a work of erotic fiction strictly for entertainment purposes and is not intended to be read by inappropriate audiences. Anyone offended by racially loaded same-sex erotic fiction based on teenage memories should find other entertainment. Please send all feedback to Evan Williams, classic14rider@gmail.com. Darrell was fond of renting himself out to white men who could reward him handsomely and give him a feeling of safety and security. He discovered this opportunity to explore a forbidden side of himself when he was very young. He was walking home late at night and a motorist asked him if he wanted to make some cash. He thought it was a stupid question. Who doesn't want to make cash? He hadn't counted on what he would have to do to make it. The stranger told him all he had to do was take his clothes off. This seemed easy enough. The motorist directed him to a nearby alley. Darrell was a bit embarrassed but, looking around to make sure none of his friends or adults were watching, he took off all his clothes and stood naked in the alley. Thus began his illustrious career as a teenage street hustler. Other motorists drove by and, recognizing the boy who had few inhibitions, given the right price, approached him and paid to have him do bolder and more daring things. They paid him to get in their cars so they could explore his young, naked body. He complied, so long as the money was right. Some of the men slapped him around, spat on him, called him a "lazy nigger," and humiliated him. It was what they were paying for. But for the most part, the men treated him with the utmost respect. This was a change from what he was accustomed to from adults in his neighborhood, who tended to be quick-tempered and yelled a lot. He also enjoyed having so much money for a change, yet resented being dependent on these strangers. As he grew older, the strangers enjoyed Darrell because he was a boy, yet he was also a man. They began to take him to cheap motels so they could enjoy him without restrictions. The men who paid him were rewarded for their investment when they saw the full extent of his youthful beauty in the light of the motel room. His smooth honey-colored torso, chest, and arms glistened with sweat and contrasted with the dark jungle of pubic hair above his thick, long dark cock and on his balls, suggesting insatiable virility. The boy's smooth brown legs had just enough hair on the calves and the inner thighs to suggest massive, cum-producing male potency. And he delivered. Mr. Johnson was one of Darrell's benefactors. He liked the idea of taking strong young black boys and paying them to strip naked. He would get a small group of youthful black warriors and reduce them to his personal sex slaves. He relished the idea that these boys protected their moms and younger siblings, yet he had them under his control. He held their young, manly testicles in his hands while imagining the boys' moms watching in horror, "Where is your protector now?" This was a question with more than one meaning. It could be directed at either the boy or his mother. Johnson had invaded their family. Mr. Johnson spent hours staring at the boys' young, naked bodies, carefully inspecting their large testicles and long, thick cocks, the gentle traces of hair on their smooth, dark skin, and the thicker mass of hair in their armpits. He indulged in a fantasy of having these black boys as his slaves, existing solely to satisfy his sexual needs. Through money, he made these fantasies happen. He felt guiltily aroused by the notion that he had complete access to the boys' dark bodies to fulfill every sexual desire he could think of. He didn't hesitate to take advantage of the opportunity. He preferred boys from the Western hemisphere over those directly from Africa. In the Western hemisphere, black boys had dark brown skin and large cocks and balls, due to their African ancestry, yet they also had big curly Afros rather than tightly knotted hair because there was European ancestry in their lineage. They were the descendants of blacks whose bodies were used to serve the intimate needs of white men. The origin of today's black American boys is actually highly erotic. Johnson's dick got hard just thinking about it. Despite having similar origins, not all black boys are the same. Johnson always found it a challenge to identify the right boy for the job he wanted them to perform. It was important to know the varieties of these boys. Ghetto boys were enamored of white flesh, but only if they could dominate their prey like they dominated their white girlfriends. They saw owning young white boys as something to enhance their social status. Working class boys were also enamored of white flesh because they thought it was exotic. As was true for ghetto boys, whites were rare in black working class neighborhoods, but a bit more common. Working class boys were willing to be either tops or bottoms. They could go both ways. Whites appreciated this. A working class boy could just as easily be found fucking a young white boy's ass or on his ashy knees sucking an older white man's cock. The boys appreciated the authority of middle-aged white manhood and were aroused when they submitted to it. Professional class black boys were more complicated and sophisticated than the other two. They were better educated and had more vivid sexual imaginations. While they often imitated ghetto and working class boys by dominating younger whites, they also read Greek and Roman classic myths and legends. They longed to have older white "gods" dominate them or even to be dominated by white gods their own age or several years younger. They worshiped white manhood. These black boys gained pleasure by making white males of all ages have orgasms. It gave the boys a sense of power to know that they could make boys and men have orgasms and lose control over their bodies. Black boys from the ghetto possessed a dangerous eroticism. They were "bad" black boys. Bad boys were nearly impossible for schools to control. This was especially true for inexperienced young white female teachers. When a handful of bad black boys wound up in detention, and there were few other students in the basement classroom to witness it, the boys stripped off their clothes and sat naked at their desks, grinning and stroking their big black cocks, which were much larger than anyone would expect. They leered threateningly at the inexperienced, young white teacher as they stroked their intimidating black cocks. The red-faced teacher became flustered, torn between lust for these boys' young bodies, and afraid that they might suddenly attack and rape her. Sweat poured down the young white teacher's face and she bit her lower lip as she tried to get the boys to put their clothes back on. She paused, transfixed by the scene in front of her and at a loss as to what to do about it. The boys smirked, knowing their teacher was thirsty for them. Soon, the young white teacher released the boys from detention just to be rid of them. She imagined trying to explain to her husband how she got pregnant by a group of teenage black boys almost young enough to be her sons. Johnson knew these kinds of boys well. When they went to take a shower, after a steamy session in the motel room, Johnson snuck into their pile of clothing and pressed their underwear against his face, breathing in the clean smell of traces of laundry soap mixed with the comforting musty smell of the boy's genitalia. He had grown accustomed to the familiar smell of cum confined within a ghetto boy's jockey shorts. The boy's cum had lingered in his pubic hair for more than eight hours by the time Johnson got a whiff of it. It had the pungent smell of masculine virility. It was a familiar smell to anyone who had close contact with these boys. Secretly, Johnson was a romantic at heart. He found boys on the Internet and wrote embarrassingly long messages to them, describing in detail how he thought of them as young fertility gods and telling them he worshiped their big black cocks and longed to drink their semen. Some boys angrily wrote back, saying, "I'm not gonna waste my time reading all these words." Usually, this meant they couldn't read the words because they lacked the skills or the patience for it. They saw reading and writing as a chore that should be confined to school. A few boys, however, wrote Johnson back. These were the more literate ones. They exchanged sexual messages with him and were thoroughly into it, coming up with even more perverted suggestions than Johnson could conjure up. For these boys, "sexting" was an opportunity to put their darkest fantasies into words. It was liberating for them. They more than held up their end of the exchange, eagerly role-playing the young, black sex god Johnson wanted them to be and demanding that he worship their feet. The longer and more explicit the messages he sent to them, the more they enjoyed it. Those were the types of boys Johnson loved the most. He emptied his wallet for them. Darrell continued marketing himself in dark backstreets and vacant allies, controlling passing motorists by making them desire his body. They paid him to let them worship it. Ghetto boys, working class boys, and black boys with an education sought straight white men and boys' cocks, believing this would give them comfort and bring them closer to the gods. Mr. Johnson purchased boys like Darrell, to fulfill all the fantasies that literate black boys had planted in Johnson's head. City night life is all about sex through power, and power through sex, by confronting forbidden fantasies under the dark of night.