Date: Sun, 28 Sep 2003 14:52:45 EDT
From: Tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: Little Victories

			     LITTLE VICTORIES
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

     I had Justin McCormick in my bed stark naked, his white legs thrown
over my black back and his cock buried in my mouth and I was sucking him
hard and fast and he was loving it. He didn't dare groan out loud but he
was thrashing happily and his cock was heating up nicely. I had him pushed
up on the bed with his head and shoulders against the wall, and my eyes
rolled up in my head so I could see his face while I sucked him off.
     Justin was such a cute hunk, with his deep brown hair, his fair
complexion so damned clean and pristine, his body formed by a lifetime of
his own personal gymnasium at home. He was ivory-toned and luscious and I
had him in my grip and when he choked back his gasps and shot his wad into
my throat, I gulped it on down happily.
     "Oh, damn, boy, you were good." Justin said when I was done. I kept my
face carefully neutral. Justin didn't mean anything by it; he just slipped
now and then. I just thought for the hundredth time that even up in
Minnesota I couldn't get away from the bigots.
     And I almost missed his next remark. "Going to be a shame I can't come
by anymore." he said as he pulled on his jogging shorts, covering that
still-shiny, wonderful schlong of his. I missed it already.
     "Why's that?" I was confused and upset. Justin wasn't bad for a rich
white boy; just a product of his father. He even sucked my cock about every
third time. He'd be on my bed in the position where I'd just had him, and
his eyes would kind of fog over and that tongue of his would sort of slip
out of his mouth and lick his lips and I'd grin inside and roll over onto
my right side while I kept sucking him. He'd fight the same old fight
between his upbringing and his needs, and as usual, his needs would win
out. He'd move his legs and I'd let go long enough for him to slide around
on the bed and we'd sixty-nine to a mutual orgasm. I mean, every time. It's
fun enough to suck off a guy as gorgeous as Justin McCormick, but when
those pretty lips slid onto my nine inches of black heaven, and I'm talking
about a lip-lock most guys only dream about getting--this guy would be
HUNGRY!--then I'd be caught up to him in no time and when I felt that salty
jizz hit the back of my throat, I'd grunt real hard and join in the fun,
every time. I'd learned I couldn't insist with him, but if I was patient,
he'd work around to doing it again before very long.
     So why would he stop wanting to come by? "Are you leaving the school?"
I asked.
     "No." he said and grinned almost mean-like. "You're getting a
roommate."
     "Really?" I was surprised. "Who?"
     Like I said, I'd given up on trying to get away from the bigots in
Minnesota. I don't know why my parents thought sending their son to a prep
school way up here would somehow make it easier on me, but they did. I
ended up going to a dorm where nobody wanted to share a room with me. Not
only that, they didn't want to share the bathroom with me, either.
     I could have raised a nasty stink about it, but I was the only black
guy in their school and my parents wanted this school on my record. So the
Dean and I worked out a sort-of compromise everyone could live with. I got
the dorm counselor's apartment on the top floor. Where everyone else got a
single room they had to share, I had my own kitchenette and my own bathroom
and a great big double-wide bed for the same price as a regular dorm
room. Plenty of privacy and I waited while the guys found out I wasn't such
a bad sort after all, even if my skin was a different shade of brown, and
it wasn't too long after that before I got the signals from Justin and a
few others. Which had taken care of my sex life for the duration, as
well. I'd worked out a rotation with them, I had Justin on Mondays,
Thursdays and Saturday nights (he was my favorite), Jeffrey on Tuesdays,
Winston on Wednesdays and Franklin on Fridays. My Sunday regular had
graduated already, so I had an open night I was alternating between trying
to fill and keeping for a day of much-needed rest. Long as I didn't let on
outside of those nights with the guys, I got a quiet knock on the door and
I would open it to find a stud who would share my bed for either a few
hours or most of the night. All of them cute, hard-bodied and
big-dicked. Be hard to top that situation, you have to admit.
     "Who are they giving me as a roommate?" I asked. "Do you know?" I was
utterly dismayed; while better than a regular dorm room, this was still a
one-bedroom apartment and pretty small. No way I could keep up my rotation
of horny studs with a roommate.
     "Just know he's another black guy." Justin said. Shucking on his
t-shirt, he opened the door cautiously, peered out, then further out, then
he was out the door, just a casual passerby.
     I sat down and then I couldn't help but grin. "Another black guy." I
said to the room. "A 100% increase in their minority enrollment. Won't the
board of trustees be proud of that!"
     I'd manage things somehow. Wait and see was my typical attitude; and
it had worked for me before.
     I went down the next morning for breakfast (at least I ate with the
others side-by-side, though they'd had to rotate my tablemates until people
got to know me, but these guys at my table had been here for six weeks now
with no changes) and from there to class. After lunch it was basketball
practice (I'd gotten a scholarship for basketball. I have to defend the
board of trustees a little; they'd tried to get four black dudes into their
prep school by one route or other, but the other three backed out when they
learned the numbers and met their classmates) and into the locker room for
the coach's daily blather. When he yelled, "Okay, hit the showers!" inside
of joining the other guys in their trip toward the group shower, I went out
the front door and up to my own room. Have to talk to the coach and guys
about sharing their shower. They all knew and liked me by now, they even
kidded around with me and stuff. Other people's attitudes take time to
change, they have to give in a little at a time. That was also my
attitude. When a jackass flies, you don't blame him for not getting very
far and have to admire him for trying, you know?
     I got up to my room and there was junk on the floor. My new roommate
was moving in. I got into the shower and started in lathering up when the
bathroom door opened and he came in. Not into my shower, just into the
bathroom and putting stuff away in the drawers and stuff.
     "Hey, guy!" I called out over the shower's noise.
     "Hey." came the response. Deep South, no doubt about it. He was a long
way from home!
     "Be out in a minute." I said. "Make yourself to home. Just push my
stuff out of the way; you're entitled to half the drawer space
everywhere. Just share the best spots 50-50, okay?"
     "Sure." he said. (Shore!) "No problem."
     I finished my shower and got out, a towel around my waist my only
covering. No reason not to, Thomasen Prep was strictly a boys-only private
prep school. Any woman on the premises was strictly against the prep school
policy. That was the part which had made me stick with it despite its
obvious liabilities; I didn't have to pretend to flirt with girls none and
figured, rightly, that the white boys had figured out the same thing. My
four studs were far from the only gays in this school.
     He was in the main room bent over getting at stuff in one of his
boxes, so rather than this face, for my first sight of him, his ass was
presented to me there, tucked inside a pair of tight sweatshorts. Tight
butt, too! So damned lifted up that the cheeks were wider than they were
long. A thick pair of thighs and calves that were two massive mounds of
muscle instead of one, showing the color of coffee--no cream. He
straightened up and I saw that beautiful ass was attached to a waist so
slender the women would be envious, and then the chest barrel, I nearly
fainted, it was so massive. Shoulders so large I expected to see a mountain
lion lounging on them, arms like trees, large trees! No wimpy elms, "We're
talking redwoods, man!" I said.
     "What?" he asked, confused.
     I hadn't meant to say that last part out loud. "I said 'Welcome to
Thomasen Prep, man!" and put out my hand.
     He took it and my hand was lost inside that huge hand of his. He shook
my hand gently as he could, but still my body rocked from the sheer power
in that hand, that arm, the way his pectoral danced as he shook my hand,
and I shook in time to that dance.
     "My name's Damien." He said.
     "I'm Morton." I returned. "First name, not last."
     "Pleased to meet you, Morton." (He made it sound like "Martin.") "Do
you like it here at Thomasen?"
     "It's okay. The guys need some time to get used to black brothers, but
they do try. If you'll give them a passing grade for effort, you should
only be offended by them about a dozen times a day." I then explained about
the shower setup.
     "Dean done told me about that there." (Dean done tole me 'bout that
theah!)
     I shook my head. "What kind of scholarship?" If he was from a rich
family, I'm the King of Ethiopia.
     "Football."
     "That figures." I said, looking at his body. "They got a nice weight
room. I'll take you to see it after dinner. No way I'm missing watching you
work out!"
     "What's that?"
     Something else I hadn't meant to say out loud. I was going to have to
watch it. I was thinking with my little head, not my big one. "I said I'll
go with you and watch and help you work out."
     "Okay." he said and grinned. "In the meantime, how about helping me
unpack?"
     I saw his underwear in one box and grabbed that one. "I'll put these
in our bedroom dresser." I said.
     "Those are dirty." he pointed out. "That whole box needs to be
washed. I came directly from my last school to this one."
     "Then I'll put them down the dirty clothes hamper." I said. "We have
maid service here and she's coming by tomorrow, just put them in the hamper
and she'll see they get washed and folded and returned the following
morning early. But don't leave dirty clothes lying on the floor or she'll
throw them in the trash. She says she'll do it and she will. 'You have been
warned.'" I mimicked her Swedish dictator accent.
     He chuckled, a rich warm laugh that seemed to borrow its sounds from
crickets and bird calls, like you'd hear in the deep forest. "Morton, you
and me are going to get along just fine."

I took those dirty clothes into the bathroom and surreptitiously got a
whiff of them. Deep, rich, musky smell, the smell of a black brother; God,
I'd missed that particular combination of pheromones. White boys just don't
crank out that mixture for some reason, though some get mighty close.
     Sharing a room with Damien was going to be downright
frustrating. Unless, of course, his reason for joining this school was
close to mine.
     We got his stuff put away in the half-hour we had before the dinner
bell rang. Dinner was set for five-thirty, a bit early, but it was a big
meal, and you had to be dressed for it. I helped Damien get dressed by
taking out the pins and cardboard from his brand-new school uniform and he
shucked down to briefs as I was doing so. Those breasts of his were
massively thick, a huge pair of overhanging, bulging muscles holding those
wide oval nipples proudly erect and stretched taut. He didn't shave his
chest the way many weightlifters did, his hair was a proud collection of
"O's" on his lower throat, coating those proud breasts, and down to a wide
profusion on his waist, clustering at his midline to file through his
navel, there to spread out again. He just stood there, letting me look all
I wanted, until the first bell for dinner rang.
     "What's that?"
     "Huh?" I said, looking up at him. Was I talking out loud again? "I
said we'd better hurry if we want to eat. They put out a big spread for
dinner, but it's expected to last you until breakfast. Eat your fill."
     "Okay." He said and grinned. "Can you hand me my pants now?"
     "Uh, sure!" I said and handed them over. Hated to see that wonderful
horizontal bulge in his briefs slide into those dark blue trousers. Talk to
you later! I said to that man-salami, being damned careful this time not to
say anything out loud.
     He sat at my table, naturally. I'd done most of the acculturation of
these big lunks, we shared the table with mostly blond-haired Scandavian
sorts, and I thought how we looked like a pair of mismatched bookends. But
he did okay with dinner, reaching for the right fork without thinking or
looking at other people first, and I decided he wasn't quite the country
hick I had him pegged for. Turns out I was right, his father owed several
factories in the Atlanta area. He was also able to deal adroitly with the
conversation at the table, and soon he was talking football to his fellow
teammates as if he'd been there as long or longer than I had.
     He ended this meal with Nelson Belmont, of all people, offering to
show him to the weight room. I could have horned in, but Winston was waving
from the next table, mouthing to talk to me, so I let him go. I'd already
gotten a good look at his body, and there'd be other chances to see him
sweating and grunting at the weights, his legs spread wide, thrusting his
pelvis up as he moved and...okay, so I'd make an effort to see it sooner
than later.
     I went with Winston to his room, his roommate was there, a
downy-cheeked freshman.
     "Get lost, doofus." he said to the roommate. His roommate saw me,
blanched, and beat a hasty retreat. "And don't come back for an hour, got
it?" Winston said to his back as he left. Winston waved me to his
roommate's chair, sat on the bed near it and said, "Mort, what's your
roommate going to do to our Wednesday nights?"
     I shrugged. "I'll try to work something out. But I can't do anything
about it by tonight, I agree. Give me a week and I'll figure out something,
I promise."
     "I don't want to wait that long." Winston said. He was black-haired
and tawny skinned, an American Indian ancestor not that far back, as I
understood it. He was something of an outcast himself in this blond-haired,
blue-eyed crowd, one reason we hit it off early on. His body was pretty
nice, he was on the wrestling team, which takes muscle.
     I locked eyes with him. "You have another idea? If so, I'm game, you
know that."
     Winston stood up and said, "Yeah, I got another idea. Get that
beautiful black ass off that chair and I'll show it to you."
     Now, you're probably thinking he was about to fuck me then and there
right? Wrong! I got up and grabbed him and we kissed hard. I grabbed his
hair and pulled it back and he gasped and as his mouth opened, I shoved my
tongue in. I have a long, talented tongue and when I say I shoved it in
him, I mean he had a mouthful of my tongue. He gurgled the way he always
did when I stuck my tongue in his mouth (if I stretched, I could tap his
epiglottis, that little flap that hangs down at the back of your mouth),
and began to suck on my fat tongue, and I wriggled it like a snake inside
his mouth, which made him groan even more and he was thrusting his groin up
against mine and I felt his hard-on in there. I rubbed my own erection
against him and got a double-handful of his wonderfully rounded tush,
clutching him hard and rutted against him and he groaned, and when I pulled
my tongue back, he moaned, "My bed. My bed, I got lube in my desk drawer."
     I threw him on the bed Winston liked it a bit rough and grabbed his
pants, unfastened them and shucked them off of him, not even taking off his
shirt or shoes or anything else. Just those pants and then his boxers, and
he was naked from his waist to his ankles. He rolled over as I opened his
desk drawer and found the lube and when he reared up, I was squirting the
lube over my cock. A few quick rubs in and then I pulled his ass up into
position and, standing by the edge of the bed, I pushed my dick into his
eager butt.
     Winston is such a big dude, tough-looking too, you wouldn't have him
pegged as a total bottom like he is. But he did, he loved me treating him
rough, I was pushing my cock into his ass and it opened up for me and my
rough thrust like it always did, and he was grunting like a pig as I worked
it into him.
     We didn't have much time, or even that much privacy, that freshman
roommate would be back before long. But I fucked him good and hard for
about ten minutes until he moaned and grunted you don't dare yell your
passion in a dormitory and shot his wad all over his covers, that ass of
his clutching and milking at my cock as he did, and I speeded up, hit my
climax and spurted my jism into his sweet hot butt, bent over and wrapped
my arms around his chest and sweated onto him as I nibbled at his ear, him
still heaving like a steam bellows, sounding like one of those
old-fashioned locomotives "Huh, huh, huh, huh, huh, huh, wheewwww!"
     I threw him over onto the bed and rested my weight on him again, his
choice of the best way to end and put my chin on his chest and said, "This
ought to work for a while."
     "Yeah." he said. Then, reluctantly, but like he had to ask, "You think
your roommate may want to join in one night?"
     "He might." I said cautiously.
     "I hope so." the reluctance was gone. "God, servicing two of you would
be so cool! God, one of you in my ass and the other in my mouth, both of
you poking into me at once until it feels like I'm going to break in two!"
     "I'll ask him." I said, more casually than I felt. I'd spent nearly a
year breaking all the barriers down in these guys, and Damien comes along
and just rides along with no problems. "I'd better go, now."
     "Okay." He said and got up long enough to shuck his clothes and crawl
back into bed while I adjusted my clothing and wiped my face. I left him
lying dreamily in bed. Fantasizing about Damien and me taking him at once,
no doubt.
     My only gripe about Jeffrey, Winston and Franklin ("The Three Bottoms"
as I called them to myself get it? The old singing group called...oh, never
mind!) was that I was supposed to be this rough, abusive black dude. I
didn't mind playing it some times; it sure beat being thought of as someone
people could beat up at will, but at the same time, it got rather old. At
least with Justin, I got some trade-off. What I really wanted was someone
willing to give to me as well as take, both in their proper amount and
order, all the while liking me in between. You wouldn't think that was too
much to ask for, would you?
     Damien didn't come back to the room until nearly ten o'clock, lights
out. He was with some of the guys, laughing and talking and invited them
in. They refused, but I could tell it was the hour. They never came to
visit me!
     "Hi, Morton!" he said jocularly as he came in. "Missed you earlier. I
thought you were going to show me around?"
     "I was, but you got Nelson to show you the weight room?"
     "Yeah, but I thought you were coming along." he said. "I got stuck
with these guys. Didn't have any trouble; you were right, they slip up
every now and then but they don't mean anything by it."
     "The benefits of my efforts, I assure you." I said, feeling a little
kinder. Damien hadn't shut me out, he'd just got caught up.
     "Yeah, they all mentioned you." Damien said. "Said until they met you,
they hadn't seen any blacks before, except on television shows. 'The
Jeffersons', 'In Living Color', that sort of stuff."
     "Yeah, we all know how close those guys come to reality, don't we?" I
had to smile. "It's going to be nice having a black brother around to
really talk to." I turned my smile into a smirk. "Assuming you aren't too
busy with the other guys to talk to me."
     "Spent my evening talking about you, actually." Damien said. The bell
sounded for lights out, when it sounded again, the lights would be cut off
entirely on you. You had to get special permission to have them on, to
study late or something, or you had a single outlet in your room that would
stay powered and you had to plug in a study lamp there or something. But
black out your window before you do it."
     "We'd better haul ass." I said. "Ten minutes and it's pitch black in
here. You need the bathroom?"
     "No, I'm fine, just need to brush my teeth." Damien said.
     "Me, too. We'll share the sink." I said.
     I got all the way to brushing my teeth and getting undressed before I
noticed. "Damn, they should have changed out this bed!" I grunted. Not that
I wanted to give up my nice, big bed, but if I had to share it with Damien,
I couldn't vouch for my actions. Or ability to sleep well, at least!
     "We'll talk to them about it tomorrow." Damien said. "For now, which
side do you want?"
     He was standing there in just those briefs again, looking at me and
the bed. "I'll take the far side." I said. "But that mattress is really
used to only having one person in it; don't be surprised if we end up in
the middle against each other or anything."
     "Okay." Damien walked over to the bed and to my surprise, shucked his
briefs and showed me that perfect tight ass again as he crawled into bed.
     I was stymied by this, but not for long. I walked around to my side,
pulled off my own briefs and got into bed. As I did, the lights flickered
three times. "Sixty seconds to go." I translated for Damien as I shifted in
bed to get comfortable.
     I waited, looking over at Damien and him looking at me. Finally, I
said, "You talked about me with the guys?"
     "Yeah." Damien said. "They told me ALL about you. Especially that guy
Justin. He knows you real well."
     "Oh." I said. "That's a relief. I was wondering how to tell you."
That's when the lights went off.
     As if that were the signal Damien was waiting for, there was a
shuddering in the bed as he shifted, and then that big, black, wonderful
body was pressed against mine. I didn't pretend to be surprised or bashful
or anything; I just wrapped my own arms around him, feeling that big, husky
body, so damned big around, the sepia skin felt like smooth leather as my
arms slid across it, and then his lips found my face, landing first on my
chin, his nose bumping my lips, and then he lifted his face up and I put
mine down and we kissed.
     I'd been kissing white guys so long, I'd forgotten how rich and full a
black man's lips are, how they cushion and caress my entire mouth at once,
big and round and warm, they hold to you and kiss you utterly, completely
capturing my own. I could kiss him hard and not once feel the bony teeth,
the hard gums beneath, these lips were equal to the kiss!
     I was taller than Damien by several inches (I mentioned I was on the
basketball team, didn't I?), so when his body pressed further against mine,
his cockhead found my navel and ground into it. My own cock was probing to
find purchase between his ample thighs, and he lifted his upper leg and my
cock plunged into the opening gladly and he lowered his leg again, trapping
my schlong and holding it tight.
     His big, strong hands were moving over my back, touching me with long,
warm strokes. I kissed him again and again, releasing only to catch my
breath and then dive back for more. I wanted this to go on and on, my cock
making slow thrusts between his thighs, while his dick slapped my stomach,
feeling strong and potent, demanding attention. I reached down and tucked
my long fingers around it, and it throbbed gratefully.
     He moaned into my mouth as I pulled his pud and his cock got so hot, I
thought he was going to blast his wad right then and there. If he had, I
would have spewed my wad between his legs and called it a good sexual
session.
     "Ooh, ooh, oh, man, stop!" He begged me softly. I let go and he
released my own cock. "Man, you're hot." he crooned to me. "I hope they
never bring in separate beds for us."
     "They may not have thought about it." I sighed. "The trustees have to
deal with upset alumni, garden variety bigots, ministers preaching
separation as the natural order of things. It's why I ended up with this
apartment. Unless we mention it, they may forget all about it."
     "I won't tell them if you won't." he bargained.
     "I won't tell them if I can get a lip-lock on your cock."
     "Same here." he breathed huskily. "That dick of yours feels like
something special."
     "Let me turn around in the bed." I said.
     He scooted down as I pivoted on my knees, a sure sign he was used to
the position needed for a good sixty-nine. I was right; he slurped down my
pud while I was still getting situated. I fell down onto my right shoulder
and found his cock with my hand and guided my face over to meet up with
it. The cockhead was a warm oval caress in the night as it brushed my lips,
the flesh sucking up my saliva hungrily as I coated it, the quiver of his
thrill echoed in the shaft as I enveloped him.
     Damien's lips were an electric ring around my cock, dancing up and
down and leaving fiery pulses in its wake. I hadn't been this turned on in
ages; I pushed my head down over his cock until I had buried it in my
mouth, the head squeezed down my throat, and I held it there and I never,
never wanted to release it. I had forgotten about breathing, forgotten
anything but that I now had Damien's cock in my mouth and--sweet mercy!--he
had captured my own nine inches and held it the same way.
     He groaned, a warm sound that rippled through the room and my cock
trembled in response. My whole being resonated with that groan as it waxed
and wane and I moaned myself, the moan rippling in my throat and vibrating
his cockhead and that caused his own groans to build.
     Out of all the ways I thought it would happen when he took me in his
arms, I had never expected this, to hold each other's cock imbedded deep
inside us and holding still, letting our throats, our voices, bring each
other pleasure untold. His groans increased in tempo and ferocity, I felt
my cock pulsate with the sounds and build up a pool of electrical fire in
my balls, I moaned my need onto his cock and that only increased the circle
of desire in him, and the groans became urgent, rose in pitch to a
sustained wail in him and that brought me to my climax, and I shot my wad
into his undulating throat as I felt the hot, salty jism spray from his
cockhead down my esophagus in hot spears of passion, they slathered the
back of my throat with liquid heat and I grunted urgently, pumped my own
jism into Damien, the two of us stifling each other's moans of desire with
our own jizz-pumping manpoles.
     Done, my air running out rapidly, only a slight morsel of oxygen
entering my body through my nostrils, bringing air in icy-cold jets into my
heated interior, I felt the coldness myself from Damien's lips, slipped
past the corners of his mouth, and the frigid airstreams cooled the ardor
of our desire, and I felt Damien's cock wither down to a limpid flap of
tissue when I sucked on gratefully, only the cockhead holding its size and
shape, and I roiled it on my tongue. My own cock had kept some rigidity,
and Damien was sucking it lazily, not trying to do anything more than milk
out the last droplets of my seed.
     I released him at last and as I swung around in the reverse
semi-circle, Damien scooted up to resume his position, and our heads met on
a single pillow as I lay atop his massive body, my own covering him; he was
my mattress and I was his blanket, and I felt him slide into slumber as I
kissed his lips. Sleepily I pulled the covers over our mutual body and
covered his wide shoulders before I let myself fall into the same dark warm
pit of oblivion.
     I woke the next morning to the movements of the bed, Damien had gotten
up to use the bathroom. I turned over onto my back and had nearly fallen
asleep again when I heard his soft padding of his bare feet on the floor,
then miscellaneous sounds, a drawer opening, items being shuffled about, a
soft pop of a jar lid, then the covers lifted and Damien rejoined me. Then
the cold feel of Vaseline being smeared on my cock. I was hard again
without trying, the combination of a hot stud in my bed and my dreams made
for a turgid erection in my semi-conscious state. Damien's hands plied the
Vaseline and it warmed on my cock until he had coated me with a thick
sheath and then he was sitting on my chest.
     I opened my eyes to witness this, Damien's large, ebony body seated
atop me as if I had lost a wrestling match, one hands sitting on my
shoulders, and the other reached to guide my cock to its warm destiny. His
ass was a cavern of bliss, I sighed and scrunched my body as my rod dove
deeper into him, until he was again seated on me, my balls resting against
his asscheeks.
     "Good morning." he said, grinning that devilish, wicked grin of
his. Like a white arc of merriment, his eyes dancing with the delight.
     "Good morning." I said and I pumped up into him and he sighed, threw
his head back, showing me his wide neck and Adam's apple perched in the
geometric center.
     "Ah, yeah!" He groaned and this morning the gentle lover was gone; he
bounced on me with urgent fierceness, drawing upon my potency and
pleasuring himself on my manhood, he bounded in ecstatic distraction,
forcing me into greater and greater heights of passion, I grunted and
humped upwards at him and he grabbed his flailing pud and jerked it
quickly, and was rewarded with a sudden burst of ejaculate that spewed over
my chest and pounded my sternum with pearly pools of parched sperm that
breathed and cooled on my body.
     As his bursts eased, he gasped and went limp on me, and I grabbed him
and rolled him over, and with my arms holding him by the bends of his knees
into a scimitar of black male lover, I pumped his ripe ass until my blood
pounded behind my eyes and I lost all sensibility, turned into a fountain
of my own jism that sprayed into him.
     Finished, I lay down atop him and he sighed happily and palped one of
my buttocks in a gentle gesture of ownership. "Tonight, I'm going to fuck
this butt of yours." he decided. I looked at him. "If you don't mind." he
qualified.
     "I don't mind." I said. "Though I may be out of practice. Haven't been
fucked lately."
     "You mean all these white boys haven't had the balls to try to ride
you?" he seemed astonished.
     "I can't decide if they're afraid I might rub off on them, or if they
are afraid of hurting my feelings." I said. "I fuck some of them regular,
but that's been it."
     "But I get to fuck you." he said, satisfied.
     "Yeah." I said. "Looking forward to it. But not tonight."
     "Why not?" he asked.
     "I got Justin coming by again." I said. "That guy's got a dick that
has to be seen to be believed."
     "But he doesn't fuck you?"
     "Nope." I said. "I suck him. Sometimes he sucks back. But that's as
far as it's gone."
     "Well, if your ass isn't occupied, maybe I can take a ride while
you're working him over." Damien mused. "Think he'd go for it."
     "We can find out." I temporized. "It may take some working up to. I
have a class with him this morning, I'll talk to him and sound him out."
     "Sounds good." Damien said. "See you after practice." He'd be on the
football field while I was on the basketball court, but both practice
periods ended about the same time. The locker room became crowded as all
the jocks arrived at the same time. I'd peeked at those showers and
regretted not sharing that cameraderie. Maybe next semester.
     "Yeah, after practice." I said.
     Justin was dubious but willing to consider a three-way with me in the
middle. I noticed him watching Damien all through lunch. After practice,
the coach sent me out for his clipboard, which he'd forgotten. He sent guys
on errands like this, but it was the first time he'd sent me. When I got
back, he said, "Morton, the team just had a vote."
     "Vote?" I said. "On what?"
     "They've decided that you can come shower with the team from now on."
Coach said. "You and what's-his-name, Damien. So when I say hit the
showers, you better shuck down and head that way instead of up to your
room, got me?"
     "Got it." I grinned at the team. After the pep talk, Coach bellowed
"Hit the showers." and I was eager. I stood up and peeled down my shorts.
     Justin came over. "Ready to check out your teammates?" he joked to me.
     "Already seen most of them." I retorted. "Though it'll be first time
most of them have seen me."
     "Don't worry." he grinned, looking down at my rather worn jockstrap,
bulging with my meat. "You have most of them outclassed easy. They'll turn
green with envy."
     "Make for a more colorful team." I said. "Vanilla was getting a little
bland, anyway."
     He laughed and took off. "You'll have to share your showerhead with
Damien, by the way. The guys aren't THAT comfortable with the idea,
yet. You two get the one in the nearest left corner, okay?"
     "Okay." I shook my head. Give it time, I told myself. Little victories
add up. I was training a whole generation of Minnesota power not to hate
the black man for the color of his skin. That had to be worth a little bit
of biting back what I wanted to say. As long as they kept coming around,
slowly, I'd keep my peace.
     At least now, when the fight got to be too much, I had a warm black
body to snuggle up to in the night.

				  THE END
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