Date: Thu, 30 Aug 2018 18:28:55 +0000
From: whipped@protonmail.com
Subject: A Maricon chapters 1-2 (Adult Youth/Interracial/Authoritarian)

Do not read if you are under eighteen. All characters are eighteen and
older. Never have unprotected sex or engage in anything even a little
non-consensual in real life.

This story was written for white guys into dominant Latinos. It's about a
younger white guy getting turned out by his older Mexican neighbor.

If you enjoy this and other stories, consider donating to Nifty.

Part One

Phillip Trenton Anders Junior had went to Xavier Prep. He had recently
turned eighteen and felt like he had everything going for him. He had
played lacrosse and there was talk of scholarships. He was just waiting for
college acceptance letters from great schools. He was fit af and girls seem
to throw themselves at him. But he had a secret.

This blonde, preppy, 5'9, 140 pound athletic eighteen year old couldn't cum
with the girls he had been with sexually. He tried, but even when the girls
were sucking his dick it just felt weird.

At first, he thought maybe he was just nervous. But then he realized he
couldn't stop thinking of the way the girls seemed wrong.

The neighborhood he lived in was sort of nice, but not diverse at all. His
school was private and the only minorities there were Asians. And there
were only two of them.

So when the house across the street was sold, he was slightly shocked to
see Mexicans move in. He had never seen a Mexican or hispanic in his
neighborhood or anywhere but that hardware store parking lot across town
and a restaurant. They even had a Mexican flag as their curtains.

It looked like there were eight of them. Almost all the houses in his
neighborhood were around four thousand square feet, but that still meant
shared bedrooms. And they were all so dark. All the kids and the dad had
black hair and dark eyes and really brown skin. The mom was dark too, but
her hair was that cheap fake blonde some girls have.

They were like nothing he had ever seen in real life.

The mom and dad were super affectionate. He watched as they kissed in the
yard and the man even fingered her while he did it. And he winked when he
saw the boy looking. Philip, who his friends and family called Jay, was
shocked.

The dad fascinated Jay. He was probably in his fifties or sixties, but his
wife looked closer to thirty or forty. He had to be around six foot tall
and he was sort of furry with a little bit of a stomach. But he wasn't all
fat or anything. He looked solid and had thick arms and legs. Jay figured
he was around 230 pounds. And the way he acted was so not like anyone else
in the neighborhood.

He would go out and get his mail sometimes in just his white briefs. You
could see his dick through them and it wasn't small. He groped his wife in
public. He even slapped his wife hard once when she said something he must
not have liked. At night, he would sometimes sit alone on the porch in just
shorts drinking beers and playing Mexican music.

A week after they moved in, their van vanished. All that was left in the
driveway was a beat up work truck which said Lopez Landscaping and
Yard. The family was gone.

But the dad was still there.



Jay



A few days after the van vanished, I went for a run and noticed the dad was
outside again in just his shorts. He noticed me too and stared at me as I
caught my breath outside my house. I was trying to decide if I should do
another lap or head in.

I was shocked when he gestured for me to come over.

I ran over to him and then realized I didn't even know his name. And the
way he was looking at me made me uncomfortable.

He looked me up and down and then rubbed his dick through his pants.

Then he said, "My family is back in Guanajuato for the summer. You should
treat me nice while they're gone, little maricon."

His voice was deep and had a strong accent. I gulped.

Then I told him, "My name is Jay."

He laughed.

He stared at me again in a way that creeped me out, then said, "I don't
need your name, puto. Come over tonight at midnight and we can see how good
of a maricon you are. "

Then he stood up and walked into his house without even saying goodbye.

I took a shower when I got home, then I did some research. It turned out
maricon and puto were mean words in Spanish that both meant faggot.

He thought I was gay and invited me over to see how good of a gay I was?

I told myself a hundred times I would try and avoid him for the rest of my
life.

At midnight, I was on his porch.

He was waiting for me. He was wearing the same outfit, but there were about
eight beer cans on the porch by him and he was smoking a cigar. It smelled
really strong and sweet. Almost like a swisher before it was rerolled.

I tried to talk and he hushed me. I just stood there awkwardly for a minute
or so until he put the cigar out.

Then he spoke:

I won't touch you out here, puto. But you walk in there and I'll treat you
like what you are and you'll do what I say or wish you had. We know how to
treat faggots in Mexico. You come in and you obey like a little bitch.

I gulped and said, "I'm not...I mean..I never.."

He laughed again and said, "Then why you here? Come in or not, up to you."

He got up then and walked inside.

I followed him after a second of thought. I felt sick to my stomach and
nervous, but it was like maybe he knew what was wrong with me.



Tony Lopez



I noticed the little faggot the day we moved in. He was staring at me like
I was fucking candy. I had no plan to use the piece of shit, though, until
my wife decided her and the kids were going home for the summer.

Growing up in Guanajuato, there was a faggot who wore dresses and shit and
took care of anyone who asked. He got his ass beat everyday at first and
then the boys realized his ass had a better use and so did his mouth. After
that, he was protected but ate sometimes ten dicks a day and had his ass
ripped open by every boy in the neighborhood.

This kid reminded me of him. Not that the boy was girly or anything. He
looked all boy and was in good shape. But he had that hungry and confused
look that kid had had sometimes.

After I called him a maricon and he came back to my porch, I knew he wanted
it and was mine. I walked in and a maybe a minute or two later he followed.

I wasn't going to make it easy for him. The first thing I did was order him
to get me a beer from the refrigerator. While he was doing that, I put in
my favorite blowjob porn and got naked.



Jay



I froze when I came out of the kitchen. I could hear some girl moaning on
the screen and Mr. Lopez was naked. The older man's dick wasn't rock hard,
but it was easily bigger than mine. Lopez's balls were big and hanging
low. He had this relaxed look on his face with his arms up on the couch. He
was slowly stroking his dick.

Mr. Lopez looked away from the porn and said, "Bring me the fucking beer
and get on your knees already. I need that throat pussy wrapped around my
dick."

At that point, it was like part of me went to sleep or shut down or
something. The American everyday me knew I should get the fuck out of there
and the athletic me knew I should kick the older man's ass for saying that.

Instead, I walked over to Mr. Lopez, handed him the beer, and knelt in
front of him.

Mr. Lopez kept watching the porn and said, "Start by licking the sweat off
my nuts, maricon."

I looked at Mr. Lopez and realized there was no going back. I was about to
prove everything Mr. Lopez was saying about me was true.

I stuck my tongue out and licked the man's balls. They tasted salty and
sweaty. I started lapping at them with my tongue. I even sucked part of one
in my mouth.

It made my dick stir a little.

After a couple of minutes of licking his nuts, they were sloppy and
Mr. Lopez was hard.

He said, " Chuparme la polla, bitch."

I didn't know Spanish so was confused for a second. He grabbed my head by
the hair and brought it to his dick.

I tried sucking the head, but there was a constant stream of precum that
was making me gag. It tasted sweet. He grabbed my head and tried shoving it
balls deep and I almost threw up. I pulled off his dick and he slapped me
hard across the face. I had never been hit or seen anybody look that mad at
me.

He said:

Cover your fucking teeth with your lips. And if you pull off again before I
nut, you won't have any teeth left. Understand?

I nodded.

This time, it was clear he was ready to cum. He grabbed the back of my head
and held it down as he thrust his hips. I was gagging and choking
constantly and making sounds I didn't realize I could make as he treated my
throat like pussy.

He started breathing heavy and then said, "Drink that leche, boy."

Then he came.

It flooded in my mouth and tasted bitter and nasty. I wanted to spit it
out, but I knew he wouldn't let me get away with that so I swallowed it
all.

His hairy legs shook as he came over and over. I could feel his belly
trembling.

Then he lightened his grip on my head so I could pull off and catch my
breath.

He ran a hand through my blond hair. Something seemed funny to him, but I
wasn't sure what.

He gripped my hair and spit on my face.

I couldn't help it. I was so overwhelmed I started crying.

He growled, "I'm through for the night. Get the fuck out. "

I stood up and realized my dick was hard and it showed through my clothes.

I virtually ran out.

But not before he said, "Same time tomorrow, maricon."

I swore I wouldn't come back the next night.

But I did. And the night after that. And the night after that.



Part Two



It was almost like Jay was addicted to Mr. Lopez. He told his mom that the
bruise on his cheek from the slap was from Lacrosse. She seemed to believe
him.

He couldn't even process how he felt about Mr. Lopez though.

That first night, he spit on his dick when he got home and came almost
instantly. Mr. Lopez's cum must have still been sort of in his mouth
because jacking off from spit had never felt so good. He came buckets.

The next night, exactly the same thing happened. Minus the slap.

He showed up and Mr. Lopez used his mouth to basically jack off while he
watched porn. Then he kicked him out.

It happened again the next two nights.

Then it changed a little.

Mr. Lopez still didn't undress him or anything, but he had him lay his head
upside down off his bed. This time, instead of blowjob porn, he put on a
gangbang video. It was cheerleaders and a bunch of older men fucking them.

While he watched it, he fucked Jay's throat.

He undressed as Jay laid with his head upside down and mounted his mouth
like it was pussy. Mr. Lopez's hairy balls half blocked his nose as he
buried his dick deep. He fucked Jay's throat so hard and deep and fast Jay
actually threw up. Mr. Lopez only gave him a second to recover before he
was back slamming his dick deep.

Jay was miserable. He was gagging and choking and wretching every
stroke. His whole world was convulsing on dick and balls smashing against
his face. He could smell Mr. Lopez on top of him and he smelled like sweat
and cigar smoke.

Then, as Mr. Lopez started pounding even deeper, his hand brushed Jay's
dick. It was still in his pants, but that touch made him jizz.

Mr. Lopez was close after him. His balls emptied deep in Jay as he grunted.

Afterwards, Jay was dragged to the floor by Mr. Lopez and told to clean up
the vomit and get out.

He obeyed.



Jay



I couldn't believe the first time I ever came with someone was with an
older Mexican guy while he railed my throat. It didn't make sense. He was
hairy and kind of fat and a man and old. He shouldn't do that to me.

But he did.

I'm not sure why, but he seemed to treat me like a piece of shit and it
made me hard.

Maybe he was right that I was worthless faggot. He said we only existed to
please and obey and be used by real men, however they want.

I know I hated sucking his dick and him fucking my throat. But it made me
hard. His cum was bitter and gross. But after I ate it, I came.

The day after he fucked my throat on the bed, I saw a different truck in
his driveway. It was more beatup and had Mexican plates. I sat on the porch
for ten minutes after I was supposed to be there wondering if I should go
or what excuse to make up for knocking. I finally settled on bringing a
cake we had over as a welcome present. I put on a three hundred dollar pair
of jeans I'd gotten for Christmas. I wanted to look good for some reason
and this seemed like a decent cover in case he had guests.

I knocked on the door and Mr. Lopez answered. He grabbed me by the T-shirt
and dragged me in before closing the door.

The room was filled with pot smoke. And Mr. Lopez definitely wasn't
alone. There was one guy about my age with a bong. He was tatted all up,
skinny, and looked rough af. There were also two other men there. One was
in his thirties or forties and muscular af. He was covered in tattoos
too. The last new guy was around Mr. Lopez's age, but fatter. They were all
Latino.

Mr. Lopez looked at the cake and laughed. He said something in Spanish to
the other guys and they laughed too.

Then he told me, "Go make us pasta, puto."

I nodded and said, "Yes, sir."

That set them off laughing again.

I didn't really know how to cook, but I found some noodles to boil and some
pasta sauce. I heated up the sauce and noodles and made four plates. Then I
brought them to the men in the living room, along with four cold beers.

I stood awkwardly then and watched them eat.

Mr. Lopez finished first.

He handed me his plate and I took it to the kitchen and rinsed it off.

When I got back, he pointed to the floor in front of him.

I felt really weird with the others there, but I knelt where he pointed in
front of him.

He said, "Tell them what you are."

I tried to remember enough Spanish to do what he wanted.

I looked at his guests and said, "Yo soy maricon y puto."

Everyone laughed so I looked back at Mr. Lopez.

He said, "Tell them you're my propiedad."

I figured I should just add the soy, pointed at myself, and said, "Soy
propiedad."

They all got serious then. Mr. Lopez pushed my face down to the ground.

He said, "Kiss my feet."

I kissed them. They smelled like feet, but I realized obeying was my best
option.

I kept my head down and just listened. I heard the men arguing. Not in a
mean way, but like the way people argue with friends. I only recognized a
few words. It sounded like they said maricon and virgin and something that
sounded like cool-o.

When they got quiet, Mr. Lopez grabbed the back of my head and dragged me
up off the floor.

He stood me in the middle of the living room and started undressing me. He
pulled off my lacrosse jersey and unbuttoned my jeans. He pulled them down
and my briefs with them until I was naked. I tried to cover my cock and he
pulled my hands to the side.

He gestured for the older man to stand up and come over to us.

When the man reached us, Mr. Lopez grabbed his hand and ran it on my flat
stomach. Then he slapped my stomach and twisted my nipples. I yipped a
little from that.

Mr. Lopez then turned me around and I felt one of their hands on my back
and then a hand gripped and squeezed my ass.

I gulped. This was too weird and too much for me. I wanted to run out, but
was held still.

The older man laughed. I heard a rustle and saw the older man hand
Mr. Lopez forty dollars.

Mr. Lopez picked up my briefs from the floor.

He held them to my mouth and said, "Open."

I couldn't speak or breathe around them. Then he duct taped them in my
mouth.

After that, Mr. Lopez pushed me into a part of the house I hadn't been to
before. I guess it was a guest room or something. It had a big wooden bed
in it. Not like from a store, but it looked like it was made of real
trees. Solid wood. The room was decorated like a Mexican restaurant
almost. The bed had this wool blanket that was all kinds of colors on it
and there was a Mexican flag on one of the walls and candles everywhere
with pictures of someone called The Lady of Guadalupe.

Mr. Lopez didn't give me a lot of time to relax and look around though. He
pushed me face down into the wooden blanket until I was bent over. That
blanket itched like crazy. Then he got some orange tool and spread my legs
out really wide. He used the tool to attach little plastic type ties to my
ankles and the bottom of the bed. Then he came around to the other side and
stretched my arms up and did the same to them until my legs were kicked
wide and tied up and I was bent over with my arms attached to the head of
the bed.

I couldn't move my arms or legs. Or talk.

I was scared. Legit scared. And something else.

I felt vulnerable.

Mr. Lopez came around behind me and I felt his hands knead my asscheek for
a second.

Then he leaned over and said, "Abundio paid forty to go first or I'd take
off my pants right now."

Then he walked out.

For some reason, I was rock hard.