Date: Wed, 16 Mar 2011 04:38:00 -0400 From: Evan Williams Subject: Working with Black Boys II This is a work of erotic fiction. It is not to be read by minors. It may include acts of violent non-consensual homosexual sex between an adult and a teenager. It may also contain racial slurs. If you are offended by this kind of erotic fantasy, or if you may be unduly influenced by it, please search for something else to read for your personal erotic fictional entertainment. All publishing and reproduction rights are reserved by the author of this story. ************************************* This story is not necessarily about anyone below the age of 18. It is up to the mind of the reader to fill in the details. ************************************* It's always great when you enjoy your job. Last time I told you about a store manager who learned how the control the behavior of a room full of rowdy black teenagers, who had to work for him in order to fulfill their requirements for probation. He singled out the ringleader of the troublesome group and made the boy submit to his authority. It worked like a charm. The other black boys, under his control, settled down and learned to follow orders, at least most of them did. There were always a few knuckle-heads who somehow didn't seem to get the memo. That's when the man had to take extra measures to straighten those hardheads out. Two of the most rambunctious black teenagers under his charge were horsing around in his store, instead of washing the windows and scrubbing the floor the way they were supposed to. The manager didn't know what set the boys off, but suddenly the lean brown-skinned black boy started running away from a balkier mocha-colored boy. The brown skinned boy slammed into an antique vase, shattering it into a thousand pieces. The manager was not pleased. The boys trembled and pointed to each other, "Dat wuz hiz fault." The manager had no patience to sort out who was more to blame. Both colored boys were guilty and they both would have to pay. Of course he knew these black boys didn't have any money -- that was always the story, but this did not deter the clever man. He knew that there was always something he could get out of them; it was just a question of what it should be. The manager motioned for the boys to come into his office. The boys pulled on their trousers that were sagging below their waist, and slowly followed him into his office wondering what was in store for them. He shut and locked the door. The boys sank down on the couch in front of the manager's desk and tried not to make eye contact with him, as ghetto boys are prone to do. Nonetheless, the manager's gaze bore down on them, "You boys know how much that antique costs?" "We aint got no money," both boys chimed. "Of course you don't. You never have money, except when you want something. But I know one thing you do have, and I'm going to accept it as payment for the damaged property." The boys looked at each other with puzzled expressions. "What we got dat dis man want from us?" they murmured. Of course, the manager was no dummy. He overheard their murmuring. "I'll tell you what you've got. Since you don't have any cash, and that vase costs a lot of money, and you don't want to get fired and go back to corrections -- then the only way you can make this right is..." The boys held their breath. "You're going to have to entertain me." The boys breathed a sigh of relief. Entertain him? Is that all this white man wants? They would gladly entertain him. Both boys thought of themselves as natural entertainers anyway. Did he want them to sing? Did he want to hear them freestyle? Did he want to hear them beat box or watch them shoot hoops? They would gladly entertain him. But the manager didn't want any of that. He looked them in the eyes and said gravely, "I want you boys to take off your clothes." The boys gulped and looked at each other wide-eyed. The dark skinned boy spoke up, "Take our clothes off? B-b-but I can't take my clothes off. I aint gay, dawg. I got a girlfriend an' shit." The man cut in, "I don't care what you think you are, if you don't want me to fire you -- if you don't want to wind up back in corrections, you're going to take your clothes off and you're going to entertain me -- now." The boys eyed each other sheepishly. Then the brown-skinned boy spoke up, "Does I have to do this in front of him," he said, motioning his head toward his darker-skinned buddy. "Yeah, you've got to do it in front of him. He's got to do it in front of you. You're both going to get to know each other better than you ever imagined." The boys looked embarrassed. Nobody moved. "Do it now, boys -- I don't have all day." Slowly, both boys rose from the couch and stripped off their clothing, exposing their smooth swarthy bodies. The manager unzipped, behind his desk and played with himself as he eyed the boys' tight nipples, their hairless chests, and the gentle whiffs of hair on their calves. Finally, they stripped off their boxer shorts, exposing dark bushes of adolescent pubic hair, and two long teenage cocks swinging between their legs. "Yessss", the manager hissed, as he stroked himself, "Grab each other's cocks and play with them." The boys looked at each other awkwardly, hesitating to follow the man's orders. "I said grab each other's cocks and make each other hard." Timidly, each black boy reached over and grabbed the other boy's cock. They slowly stroked each other's teen fuck meat. It didn't take long for them to get hard. Each boy had the other's firm, erect penis jutting from his fist. "Yeah, that's what I like to see," said the manager. "Look how horny you boys are -- playing with each other like you're two faggots." The boys looked embarrassed but kept stroking each other while the manager watched. The boys looked especially distressed at the fact that each of them was sported a raging teenage hard-on, and it was another boy who was causing it. "Stroke those nigger cocks for me," the manager encouraged them. The boys stroked each other, forced to put on a show. "I want to see you hold each other in your arms," the manager directed them. "Face each other and hold each other tight while your nigger cocks are grinding against each other's body." The boys did as they were told. The naked black boys embraced and pushed their throbbing teenage cocks against each other. Their brown bodies were smooth and lean. They shamefully did a slow masculine grinding dance for the man. Young boyish, muscular arms and chests embraced one another. The rich, caramel brown boy was enfolded into the deep mocha chocolate body of the other. Their youthful manly legs rubbed up against each other, giving each other pleasure; filling each boy with passion. There was nothing like firm, hard, muscular adolescent bodies rubbing naked against each other, to make a boy fully aroused in a way that could not be replicated by the squishy softness of a teenage girl's body. The boys' breath grew shorter as they felt passions and sensations they had never experienced before. They felt their thick, hard teenage nigger cocks rubbing against each other's smooth brown thighs. The manager goaded them, "Yeah, keep it up. Keep grinding on your homeboy for me. Imagine what it must be like to be buddy's girlfriend and to surrender yourself to his strength." Teenage black boys' arms wrapped around each other's naked body. Both boys felt involuntary passions arise within them, burning for each other, something they had never felt before. The darker boy started licking the other boy's shoulder blade; tasting the boy's sweet caramel skin. The lighter-skinned boy tossed his head back as he felt his body being ravished by the huskier dark boy's football-playing strength, enfolding him, holding him tight, pumping his stiff, mocha man-meat between the lighter boy's thighs. The manager encouraged this, "Yeah, fuck your buddy. Make each other faggots. Fuck your buddy like a bitch in the ghetto. Take his manhood from him." The two black boys continued their naked muscular erotic "dance" as they rhythmically ground their sweaty dark bodies into each other in slow fucking motions. The manger shifted his swivel chair to catch the view from another angle. He positioned himself behind the caramel boy so he could see the lighter-skinned boy's smooth, firm, sweaty black ass as he pumped his way in and out, grinding against the darker boy's body. "Yeah, fuck that nigger. Fuck him good." The boys filled the man's office with teenage sex smells. The sweaty smell of the nigger boys' arm pits and pubes aroused the manger almost to the point of orgasm. He stroked his cock frantically as he watched the show that the boys were putting on for him. The black boys held each other tight; hearts pounding wildly as they embraced and their hard teenage cocks pressed against each other. The boys were feeling new sensations. The only hint of these feelings that they had before was occasionally on the basketball court, when they fell into each other's arms to steady their bodies after they collided trying to recover the ball from an attempted lay-up. Each time it crossed their minds that something felt good about being embraced by another masculine teenager, but they quickly suppressed these feelings because they "knew" that it was "gay." Now here they were, having the chance to fully enjoy their budding manhood -- being "forced" to do it, in fact. Each felt the other boy's rock hard black cock rub against his body, humping on him like he was a young ghetto whore. Each used his hard, teenage black cock to rub against the other when he "knew" he should be pushing his cock inside a horny teenage black girl's pussy instead. The manager continued frantically stroking his cock as he watched the display that he had choreographed. The black boys humped and sighed as they held each other in their arms. Suddenly both boys gasped and shuddered. They shot thick ropes of sticky white cum all over their swarthy bodies. Their bodies tensed as they continued to shoot jizz all over each other. They couldn't stop. Sweat mingled with cum until their abs and thighs were covered with horny teenage spunk juices. Soon the manager let out a loud involuntary sigh and shot his load too. His spunk shot high above his desk and splattered all over his invoices. The room was filled with the sounds of male lust as spectator and players relaxed into heavy breathing. The show was over. The manager ordered both black boys to clean each other off and get back to work. He gave them moist paper towels, but ordered each boy to clean up the other one -- they couldn't just clean themselves off. There was still a little more fun the manager wanted to squeeze out of the event. Each boy apologized sheepishly as he nervously wiped down the other boy's body. There were profuse exchanges of "No homo, no homo," as they cleaned each other up and touched each other's genitalia. Once the boys were back on the job, the manager didn't have any more trouble out of them. Occasionally he'd steal a peek at the smooth, firm contours outlining one of the boy's asses under his briefs when the boy's pants slipped below his waistline. But when the boy realized he was staring at him, the boy blushed and quickly pulled up his trousers. It was too late for that. The manger winked at the boy. The embarrassed and humiliated boy turned away. But the manager had already seen what both black boys had to offer. There was nothing they could do to take away the memory; and they were careful around antiques for the rest of the time they worked in his shop.