Date: Thu, 9 Jun 2011 23:55:20 -0400 From: Evan Williams Subject: Working with Black Boys 7 This is a work of erotic fiction. It is not to be read by minors. It may include sexual acts between teenagers and adults and it may have some offensive language. If this type of erotic fiction disturbs you, or if you find that 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. ************************************* The weather was over 100 degrees -- and humid. In this college section of the city many students lived in top floor apartments without air conditioning. The sweltering heat drove them out of their apartments to sleep on park benches at night, by a large fountain and wading pool. But now it was the middle of the day. A white-haired researcher sat in the shade of the park on the campus to get away from the heat. After an hour's diversion of reading he headed back to his office to resume transcribing old manuscripts. As the researcher crossed the green lawn of the campus and saw what looked like a lean, young brown-skinned African warrior. The boy was a college student who was so overcome by the heat that he had his t-shirt pulled up, over his head and behind his neck, exposing his firm, well-defined copper-colored upper body. The youth crossed the older man's path and the white haired man took advantage of the opportunity to eye the black student who was glistening with sweat. He eyed the boy's rippling abs and his well-defined biceps and forearms -- and his dark quarter-sized nipples. The older man felt that the younger man exuded sensuality. He looked at the young man's face; his skin was smooth, outlined with soft dark baby hair. The neat rows of braids across the young man's head, with curly upward ends behind his neck made the young man look like a bronze athlete from ancient Greece. Finally the older man made eye contact with the boy. Slightly embarrassed, he realized that the younger man was watching the older man watching him. The young man looked slightly defensive and annoyed -- as if he thought the older white man was judging him in some way, and finding him unworthy; as if he thought the older man was thinking that the way he was dressed, on this hot summer day, was not appropriate for a public place. The younger man was accustomed to being observed and judged; standing outside of buildings he was being accused of "loitering"; sitting on park benches he was accused of being "lazy"; walking in poorly-lit neighborhoods at night he was accused of "prowling"; running in the streets during the day he was accused of "escaping" from a crime. And he was accustomed to being observed and judged "indecent" for wearing his pants falling off of the back of his ass. But all of this was far from what was on the older man's mind. When the older man looked at the black man's bare chest and abs all he could think about was how the young man was a prime specimen of male sexuality. All he could think about was how the young man must have spent the previous night, in the sweltering heat of his apartment, jacking off as young men tend to do. The professor's eyes followed the young man and he watched him head toward the large fountain and pool of water in the center of the park. There were several scantily clad young white college girls lounging around the fountain. They had their feet in the cool water as they read their textbooks and wrote in journals. The young man stripped off his shirt and rolled his pants legs up to his knees. He waded into the water and showered himself under the cool flow of water from the fountain. This drew the older man closer. Following the example of the young man and the girls, he took of his shoes and rolled up his pants. He allowed his feet to dangle in the pool of water, just like the young women around him. He watched the young black boy bathe himself in the water. It was just like something out of an African adventure movie. It was like watching a brown warrior emerge from under a waterfall in the middle of a rain forest. The young man looked like an African prince, with his braided hair and glistening muscles of his lean body. The water streamed down the young man's back, his arms and his legs. His pants were thoroughly soaked, exposing the outline of the young man's thick jungle cock. The older man watched as the cool water sparkled, captured by the gentle hair on the young man's legs and just below his navel, leading, suggestively, down into his trousers. Yes, this young black male was pure sexuality and the older white man never doubted for a moment that he was entitled to experience the closeness, warmth, smell and sexuality of the young man's body. He was entitled to it, whether the young man realized this or not. The previous night, older man thought, the boy must have been awake in his humid apartment -- like many of the other college students who paid high rent to cheap landlords when they chose to live off-campus -- the boy was no doubt trying to sleep, but to no avail. He must have tossed and turned in the sweat-soaked sheets of his bed, with his raging black hard-on. The young man probably found his body aroused -- beyond anything he could understand or control; his thick black cock pulsating in the heat, yet with nothing the young man could do to relieve the tension. In the maddening summer heat, and all the tensions building up in his young dark body, the man had to express his sexuality some way -- he had to expose his brown-skinned nakedness, even to total strangers on the street, if necessary; he had to respond to his need to relieve the relentless sexual tension that was driving the young man crazy. He probably gripped his throbbing nigger cock, which would not let him sleep, and stroked it until his writhing dark body, covered in sweat, exploded into orgasm. Hopefully he would be exhausted enough to snatch a few hours of sleep before dawn. But this probably only made him hornier and so that he had to stroke it off all over again, and again in a vicious cycle youthful masculine hornieness, like a dark-skinned perpetual cum-pumping machine. He probably stroked his uncomfortably stiff nigger cock, which still remained hard -- throbbing -- desperately in need of attention in the heat of the summer night. He probably stroked himself to orgasm so often that night that his bed sheets were soaked with sweat and cum. Still, he couldn't fall asleep. So the young man, smelling of sweat, cum and dirty linen wandered into the summer night for a stroll. He probably reached the gushing water fountain at night, where other students were already gathered, softly talking, playing guitars and sleeping on blankets on the lawn or on the benches as lecherous homeless men lustily eyed the young female students' scantily-clad bodies and old gay strangers quietly cruised straight sexually-frustrated young college boys, convincing the boys to let them give the boys blow jobs until they would cum in their old `faggot' mouths in the dark where nobody would ever know it. The young black man, that night, probably bathed himself in the cool water, just as he was now doing at mid-day. At night the young man probably aroused anyone nearby who was close enough to smell the sweat and sex on his dark muscular body. They might find it arousing to share in his horny, unwashed sensuality. Now, bathing again under the fountain at mid-day, the young man became aware that the older man was staring at him and this irritated the young man. He didn't mind if the white girls around the fountain stared at him, that was the attention that he wanted, but he didn't like the "vibe" he was getting from the older white man. Once again he felt that the man was judging him, and this heightened his sense of insecurity about his legitimacy as a student -- even as a human being. Either the older man thought he didn't belong there and that his behavior was disgusting in public, or the old man was some kind of "faggot". Either way, the young man didn't want to have anything to do with him. But enveloped as the young man was in the humid air of the summer afternoon, and with his body soaked in the cool water from the fountain, he couldn't suppress the return of his raging hard-on which kept driving him to distraction -- demanding his attention. Even worse, his soaked under trousers were making it impossible for him to hide his uncomfortable condition. Now, even in his own eyes, he was nothing more than a young, horny, dark-skinned cum-pumping machine. The older man watched as the young black man, increasingly uncomfortable, rinsed off his muscles in the clear flowing water. The older man wanted to run his hands all over the young man's body. He wanted to buy the young man's body and take full possession of it. If the young man's girlfriend came up he would tell her that she had to back off -- she no longer owned the young dark-skinned man in all of his nakedness. Now he, a middle-aged white man, had ownership of the young man's body and there was nothing she could do about it. He would grab the young man's cock and testicles in front of her, to show how helpless the young man was, just to emphasize the point. He would play with the young man's cock and get it hard, against the boy's will, while the boy's girlfriend watched, just to show that he owned the boy and to show how easily a young man's body can be bought if the young man is ambitious and desperate enough to do whatever it takes to get ahead. He would tell her that if ever she wanted to feel the young man's cock inside of her again it would only been when he could watch their two dark bodies fucking; it would only be for the older man's entertainment. He would enjoy the sight of the sweaty muscular young black man humping between the thighs of his horny young "baby's mama". He would enjoy watching the young man's firm black ass cheeks as they flexed and relaxed while he pumped his seed inside the girl's horny ghetto pussy. All the time that the young man was fucking the girl, the older man would rub his hands over the young man's back and ass; he'd shove his hand inside the young man's ass crack, giving it a feel and probing its depths. The older man knew that young men have needs and it is the summer heat that brings these needs out in them. It's the heat that makes them take off their clothes and expose their bodies as raw displays of pent-up sensuality. In the humidity of long summer days and enchanted summer nights young men strip off their clothing, wanting to expose themselves; wanting other people to share their sensual smell and taste the pungent saltiness of their skin. They go off into nearby bushes and pull down their trousers to pee, but they linger after they are done -- enjoying the gentle breeze on their smooth passionate bodies. As he stared at the black boy in the gushing fountain the older man wondered whether or not the young man had ever allowed himself to admit that he too could enjoy another young man's sensuality. Had the young man ever acknowledged accidently bumping into another firm-bodied youth, finding himself aroused during their brief, accidental frontal embrace? Had he allowed himself to acknowledge that the frontal embrace of a lean, muscular young male, like himself, is as sensual as a frontal embrace from a firm, soft female -- they may be different types of sensuality, but both are sensual nonetheless, each in their own way. Any straight boy, if he is really honest with himself, would admit this, the older man thought. Many a young man found that it was worth it to be known as a "klutz" so that they could experience many such "accidental" embraces -- over and over again. It was especially worthwhile when, as often happens, the embrace was instinctively, unintentionally reciprocated by the other young man. The young black man became too uncomfortable under the older man's gaze. He stepped out of the fountain and dried off his body in the sun. It didn't take long to dry. He slipped his t-shirt and his sneakers on and he no longer looked like an exotic young warrior or prince under a waterfall in the midst of the African jungle. The older man watched as the young man disappeared across the expansive lawn of the campus. Still, there were more sweltering days and nights ahead, and cheap landlords renting off-campus housing to college students weren't about to shell out extra money to pay for air conditioning. The handsome brown-skinned warrior would be back. And the older man would, no doubt, be waiting...