Date: Wed, 24 Mar 2010 01:25:39 -0400 From: Evan Williams Subject: Hip Hop Hoes Part 11 The following story is a work of erotic fiction. It is for entertainment purposes only. It is not intended for minors. It includes teenagers and racially offensive language. Anyone who might be offended by this type of story, or unduly influenced by it, should find something else to read. ********************************** Trayshawn, a black boy, the color of dark cherry wood, with thick braided corn rows, thick luscious lips and a small gold ear stud that twinkled against his dark skin, hung out with his boys at the mall every night. "Dere go yo pops," one of the boys snickered, as a feeble elderly man wobbled by. The black boys fell over each other with laughter causing the poor elderly white man to look at them in fear and confusion. "You can tell she like her man's dick," another black boy wise-cracked as a pregnant young white woman strolled by holding a young child by the hand. The woman gave the laughing boys an annoyed glance as she quickly pulled her child along, hoping the child wouldn't hear the profanity and lewd comments the boys were making. "Yo, dat white boy a faggot – he jus' got dat bytch on his arm so people think he straight," Trayshawn sneered as a handsome blond teenager, with his girlfriend on his arm, strolled by. The boy shot the slovenly group a piercing look as Trayshawn and his boys doubled over with laughter. And so it went all evening. But it's not that Trayshawn was really as bad as he seemed. When he was all alone in his bedroom he spent hours devouring comic books depicting courageous heroes who stood up for truth, justice, law and order against all manner of thugs and villains. Trayshawn only played the role of society's menace when he was with his "boys" and he felt he had to impress them. He humiliated decent and upstanding citizens when he was with the wrong crowd, and felt pangs of guilt later that night when he had time to reflect on what he had done. Like any teenage boy, Trayshawn admired the strength of heroes such as Superman, Thor, Tarzan, and the Lone Ranger. He secretly wished they would come to the ghetto and put an end to all the crime and lawlessness that surrounded him. He longed for one of those heroes from the funny pages to confront disorderly gang-bangers who prowled the streets day and night, the predatory drug dealers, the shady loan sharks, the shameless prostitutes, and other assorted knuckleheads who preyed on innocent law-abiding folks. Trayshawn was feeling pangs of guilt, especially for humiliating that handsome white couple a few hours ago in the mall. He knew he was wrong for his behavior, but there was nothing he could do about it now. But the more he thought about it, the more it bothered him. The blond haired white boy looked a little bit like those drawings of "Buck Rogers" that Trayshawn read about in the comics. Trayshawn's guilt started to get the better of him. He had to go out and get fresh air. The streets in his neighborhood weren't safe because they were overrun with wild "niggers," as Trayshawn called them. He hopped on a subway and went down to a public park in the college section of town, where he could hang out, without fear, late into the night. Trayshawn sat on a park bench, subdued now, because he was away from the negative influence of his black buddies. He watched college couples walk by, arm-in-arm. He was lost in a daydream, wishing he could be in a relationship like those white couples had, when suddenly he saw him – the blond boy he had harassed earlier that evening. Trayshawn did a double take – it was him alright, only this time the white boy was alone. Trayshaw, hands in his pockets and head bowed down, ambled up to the boy. When the boy recognized who Trayshawn was his body tensed, he started to run. Trayshawn noticed the boy's evasive posture. He called out, "Hey man, sorry about earlier tonight. Me and my boys just get a little carried away sometimes." The blond boy eyed Trayshawn cautiously. He didn't know what to believe. He looked the black boy over, sizing up the situation. He eyed Trayshawn's smooth reddish dark skin, his thick nappy corn rows braids, his gleaming gold ear stud – and his low-sagging jeans; always a sure sign of someone looking for trouble. "Forget it," the boy said to Trayshawn, trying to get away from this dark figure of the night. "It's nothing." But Trayshawn followed him. "Naw man, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to make fun of you in front of your girl n' all. Is there any way I can make it up to you?" "No, just forget it," the blond haired boy said firmly, trying to put some distance between the two of them; not wanting to get caught up in anything that could make the situation even worse. "It's nothing. It's over." But Trayshawn persisted, not knowing why he was drawn to the boy or why he felt so compelled to keep apologizing to him. "Naw man, I done dissed you – now maybe you can diss me back in someways." The blond boy looked quizzically at Trayshawn. What was his game? What was this strange creature up to? Was he trying to rob him? Even Trayshawn was confused by his own behavior and his motives. He himself didn't know what he meant by offering the blond boy a chance to "diss" him in "someways." He also didn't know why he felt so compelled to press the point. The white boy had forgiven him, why not just move on – get the fuck outta there? But he persisted. Trayshawn spoke before he even had a chance to think about what he was saying, "I want you to diss me in someways – I want you to pay me back; make things right again, like it was before we even met. I done played the villain against you, now I need to be punished, like in the comics." The blond boy had no idea what Trayshawn was babbling about. But Trayshawn sensed that this white boy represented all that was good and polite in the world. Only he could give Trayshawn what Trayshawn truly needed. But he wasn't sure exactly what that meant, or what it was he thought the white boy had to offer him. He bit his lip and looked at the white boy in confusion. Trayshawn was not gay; at least he never thought of himself in that way before – but at this moment, staring into this blond boy's hazel eyes, looking at the faint glow of the boy's skin, surrounded by a soft "halo" of gold from the blond hair of his arms and his neck, Trayshawn suddenly realized what he wanted to do. "Let me suck yo dick, man. I need to get down on my knees n' give you head. In need to swallow yo cum n' make you part of me." These words that flowed out of his mouth even surprised Trayshawn. He was shocked and ashamed as he heard the words leaving his lips. He pinched himself hoping that he hadn't thought or said any of this, but that it was all just a hoax, some kind of weird dream he was having. He pinched himself but he was still in the college park at night. The white boy didn't suddenly vanish. The black boy didn't wake up in his bed in the ghetto with loud music thumping through the walls 24/7, keeping him from hearing his own thoughts, or concentrating enough to read something. The blond boy was shocked, but also intrigued. Could this black boy really mean what he was saying? He had come across many cocky black hoods who acted like they owned the streets. They seemed to be drawn to trouble – there was no getting through their thick skulls. And now here was one who wanted to be reformed. Here was one who knew he was in the wrong, and wanted to make things right by sucking on his cock. Who was he to deny this black boy the opportunity of a lifetime to come to his senses? But if this boy was really serious about being reformed he would have to do more than give him head. "My name's Aaron," the blond boy said, extending his hand – and for the first time not acting as if he were frightened by the dark figure. "Mines' Trayshawn," the black boy reciprocated, shaking Aaron's hand. Aaron studied his new acquaintance carefully, and then decided to take a leap. "Let's go up to my dorm room and see what we can work out." The boys went to Aaron's dorm room. Trayshawn was amazed. Aaron's wall had several rows of bookshelves; all lined with text books, novels, magazines, journals – you name it. There were also stacks of printed paper on the white boy's desk. "You read all this shit?" Trayshawn asked, looking incredulously at the white boy's collection. "Yeah – I've read a whole lot more than just those books." Trayshawn looked at the stack of papers on the boy's desk. "What dat?" "Oh, those are just papers I wrote for class." "You done wrote all them papers?" the black boy asked with awe. "Sure," the white boy laughed. That's nothing. Those are just the papers from this semester. All college students have to write lots of papers. Trayshawn shook his head. He wasn't sure whether or not the white boy was pulling his leg. He always thought of himself as being a bit of a "nerd" for reading comic books. He figured nobody could read and write as much as all this stuff this white boy had in his dorm room. Yet Aaron looked like he wasn't joking. The white boy jolted Trayshawn back to the reason they were up in his room in the first place, "So, you want to make up for your smartass comments earlier this evening in front of my girlfriend?" Trayshawn swallowed hard, just realizing what he had gotten himself into and silently nodded, "yes." "Well, it's gonna take a lot more than sucking my cock. You called me a `faggot' in front of my girlfriend. There's really nothing you can do to make up for that," the white boy said, pausing to allow his words to fully register with the black boy. Trayshawn was speechless, for a change. "And while I'd love to stuff your loud-talking nigger lips with my thick white cock, there's really nothing you can do to make up for embarrassing me in front of my girlfriend, except letting me fuck your black nigger ass, so it's clear that you're the one who's really the `faggot.'" Trayshawn looked at the white boy with astonishment. He hadn't counted on this. He figured maybe he could just suck the white boy's cock, swallow his cum, go home and call it a night. Actually, that would be bad enough, given the code of the streets. He couldn't admit it to himself, but he secretly hoped that having the white boy's jism run down his throat might even give him the ability to read and write the way that the white boy does. It might make him feel beautiful, like the blond haired white boy – it might make him feel like a hero. But being fucked in the ass? He couldn't be sure about that. He thought that would be too painful. "I dunno about no ass-fuckin," the black boy said slowly – his voice trailing off. "I gotta think about that one." "Well don't think about it too long," Aaron said, "I don't have too much time to waste. My dad and his buddies have a little saying, `you really aren't a man until you've split a black oak.' When they say that, they're talking about fucking black maids and housekeepers – you know, having a little `brown sugar' on the side. But I'll bet it would make me even more of man to actually fuck a young buck nigger like you." Trayshawn reeled, the use of the "N word." Actually coming from a white boy's mouth it hit him like a 2 x 4 on the side of his head. Usually, when he heard that word coming from a white boy it automatically meant that they would have to fight, but Trayshawn felt another emotion coming over him – he didn't want to fight this white boy for calling him a nigger; he wanted to fuck. All Trayshawn could think about was how worthy this white boy must actually be to seize his black ass and fuck him like a slave. Aaron was as surprised by his sudden use of the word as Trayshawn was. Sure, he'd used the term plenty of times around his buddies and his families, but actually calling a black dude a "nigger" to his face; that was something he didn't think he really had in him. It was so bold, so audacious – and yet he had already said it. There was no taking it back. The thing that amazed Aaron even more was the black boy's reaction. He could see that it really got to the boy, and not in a bad way. Submission was written all over Trayshawn's dark face. Trayshawn wanted this white boy's cock in his ass. He wanted this white boy to be his hero, just like in the comics. Aaron looked over at his bed. "Go over to there, bend over and drop your pants." Trayshawn hesitated, but then followed the white boy's orders. He obediently went over to the boy's bed and unfastened his pants, which wasn't difficult since they were already sagging down his ass. The black boy pulled down his boxer shorts and bent over the white boy's bed. Shame and humiliation were written all over Trayshawn's dark face. Aaron gasped when he saw the beauty of Trayshawn's naked ass – it was smooth and shapely. Aaron's dick became hard, almost to the point of being painful. The thing that made the deal sweeter, Aaron thought to himself, was that the ass he was about to fuck belonged to a rather cocky young nigger. Maybe this ass-fucking would teach the black boy some manners and how to behave. Trayshawn crawled on top of the white boy's bed, resting on his knees with his butt exposed to the air for the white boy to "rape" him. Aaron walked over to the protruding black ass. He slowly undid his belt and let his pants drop, followed by his jockey shorts. His thick white cock pulsated, flushed red, in front of his blond pubes. He rubbed his cock against the black boy's ass. "I'm gonna fuck some sense into you, boy. I'm gonna fuck the rudeness out of you." He pushed on the small of Trayshawn's back, forcing the boy to lower his butt so that it was even with his cock. Aaron pulled off his shirt, exposing his hairless body; a lean blond Adonis of beauty and strength. Quarter-sized pink nipples adorned his smooth white chest. He grabbed the base of his shaft and rammed his cock deep inside of Trayshawn, making the black boy howl with pain. Aaron pulled back and then rammed his cock in again and again. He repeated this action, each time savoring the jolt that seemed to rush through the black boy's body, making the nigger's body bend under the pressure of Aaron's cock thrusts. The white boy also enjoyed the tightness, moisture and warmth of the black boy's ass. "This'll teach you how to behave in public," he said. Trayshawn sniffled as he felt his pride and manhood melting away, being replaced by a new sense of dignified humility as the white boy laid into his ass. Aaron grabbed the black boy by his waist and humped aggressively. He paused only long enough, to admire the image of his throbbing white cock meat buried deep inside of the boy's dark body. Aaron pushed deeper inside of Trayshawn, making him groan in agony. "Take it," Aaron smirked – it felt good to look down and see this tough, cocky young street thug on his knees being conquering by Aaron's cock. Trayshawn's emotions were a swirl of confusion. Aaron whaled away inside of Trayshawn's ass and the black boy wanted to fight back, yet he also wanted to submit to his white conqueror. Trayshawn shuttered when he realized what he was actually allowing this "white boy" to do. Aaron was fucking the shit out of Trayshawn with his consent. The white boy was "raping" this black boy for all he was worth, making him the white boy's nasty dark-skinned slave boy. Trayshawn had to do something to salvage some of his dignity. He looked over his shoulder and grumbled the obligatory insults at his tormentor, calling him names like "white muthafucka," but deep down inside – even deeper than Aaron's dick was plowing his black ass – Trayshawn couldn't shake the feeling that this "white boy" was entitled to this piece of "nigga butt juices" the white boy was in the process of conquering. And conquer the black boy's ass Aaron certainly did. He ruthlessly fucked Trayshawn until the black boy saw stars in his tightly closed eyelids. After fifteen minutes of banging away inside of Trayshawn, Aaron felt as though he had been plowing the boy for hours. Trayshawn's face was buried in the white boy's bed sheets, breathing deeply Aaron's body aroma – the smell of this handsome blond hero when he wakes up in the morning. Such smells made Trayshawn's dick hard as he took the white boy's merciless butt fucking. Trayshawn was gurgling saliva from his open mouth. The black boy's face was now soaked with sweat, along with his own saliva. Still, Aaron's relentless pounding pushed Trayshawn's face deeper and deeper into the puddle of spittle that had formed on the bed sheets. The spittle and the sweat mingled with the black boy's nappy hair and made the dark skin of his face shine. While Aaron butt-fucked the black boy, Trayshawn couldn't help dreaming about rocket ships and missile silos – big, powerful white objects entering his butt hole. Aaron's thrusts grew harder and harder as Trayshawn's mind was filled with images of a white knight in shining armor ramming a lance up his butt and saving a helpless young maiden whom was being held captive in a dark dungeon. Aaron continued to bang away in Trayshawn's benighted hole; adjusting the black boy's attitude and correcting his behavior. Aaron towered like Thor over Trayshawn's dark body. He humped the black boy from behind, making him submit. Aaron's smooth white body glistened with heroic sweat, the muscles of his chest, arms and shoulders flexed as he forced the darker boy to take the grinding thrusts and the power of Aaron's manhood in his ass. Trayshawn felt as though Aaron was fucking him into civilization; getting through to his hard head the only way possible, which was through his soft bottom. Trayshawn managed to look over his shoulder and got a glimpse of his "tormentor." He saw Aaron's lean, muscular body, sleek with sweat, there was a sense of purpose on the white boy's face as he civilized the black boy who was crouched under him – the white boy's thin rosy lips were pressed together as sweat trickled down his cheeks. Aaron's perspiration-soaked blond bangs were now covering his forehead. Trayshawn looked at this white boy, hard at work, and thought, "Oh shit, I'm being fucked by Tarzan, the King of the Jungle. I'm Apollo Creed being fucked by Rocky; I've got Superman whaling away in my ass." Aaron saw the black boy watching him and said, "Take that cock" between thrusts of his body. Suddenly Trayshawn understood the meaning of the lyrics, "Superman that hoe." With sweat and saliva coving the side of his face and stinging his eyes Trayshawn accepted his fate as being the black cum bucket for this powerful young white warrior. "Fuck me, Kimosaabee," he cried out spontaneously and almost involuntarily, "Subdue my savage black body." Trayshawn suddenly realized how much he wanted his brave young hero to dump his load of cum inside of his rebellious hole to clear his head of all of its vanity. Trayshawn's mind was filled with images of being butt-fucked by John Wayne, the Lone Ranger and Elvis. "Learn you some manners, boy; learn you some manners," Aaron hissed in the black boy's ear while he ravished Trayshawn's ass. The black boy's ass was burning from the thrusts of the white cock inside of him "Damn, shit – I'm learnin'", the hapless boy thought to himself, "I am sho nuff learnin'". With a few more powerful thrusts in Trayshawn's ass Aaron let out a loud sigh. Cum gushed from the white boy's cock inside the depths of Trayshawn's bowels, giving the black boy exactly what he needed. Wave after wave of orgasmic juices flowed from white boy's cock into the benighted ass of the boy whose ancestors hailed from the Dark Continent. The black boy's eyes were glassy with lust, his thick lips hung open, his body collapsed on the white boy's bed – he was totally and completely conquered. Aaron finished pumping his seed inside of Trayshawn and then he collapsed on top of the boy's heap of dark flesh. Both boys were truly exhausted. Their energies had been spent. *************************** The next night Trayshawn's buddies where back in the mall, cracking jokes about all the straight and upstanding hard working people who walked by. They made fun of straight-laced white people, and hard-working Asians, struggling Hispanics, and even black people who they said were "acting white." They made fun of virtually everyone who crossed their path – including the "wiggers," who seemed enthralled by the black boys' "culture." But this time Trayshawn was not among them. Nobody knew where Trayshawn was. He was actually holed up in his room, studying calculus and reading comic books. The white boy's cum was still trickling out of his ass. Maybe the white boy cured Trayshawn after all.