Date: Wed, 11 Sep 2019 20:09:50 -0400 From: Evan Williams Subject: Young Black Warrior (Interracial/Adult-Youth) Young Black Warrior By Latenightnuts in the tradition of Classicrider ****** This is a work of erotic fiction. It is freely shared and may be freely reposted, but all rights are reserved by the author. It is not intended for inappropriate audiences. It is simply written for adult entertainment and enjoyment. Depending on your imagination this story may be categorized as "interracial" and "Adult-Youth." ****** I met him in a dark alley in the city. He was leaning against a brick wall; he had one sneaker on the ground and the other was propped against the wall as he held a cigarette up to his mouth, preparing to light it. It was a classic hustler pose. The orange glow of the flame from his lighter, as he cupped it in his hand, revealed his boyish face. When I saw the smooth brown skin of his innocent, young face I knew I had to have that black boy inside of me. I nodded, "How much?" He answered, "One hunnerd fiddy." I said, "Call it one hundred even, for an hour of cuddling and fucking, and you've got a deal." He nodded, "Bet," then put out his cigarette against the wall, glowing fragments of tobacco like sparks falling to the ground, and he followed me to my hotel. When he entered the elevator in the hotel lobby I realized how strong his odor was. I was aroused by it. He smelled masculine, of hard nigger sweat that he probably worked up from a day on some inner-city basketball court. Black boys in this city play ball during the day and hustle at night to earn enough money for weed and to support their baby's mama. I breathed in his manly odor and thought about how I was about to have his firm, hard, young body on top of me, letting me feel the heat and the energy that he usually saved for his girlfriend. This lanky, agile black boy was mine; I purchased him like a slave, and for the next hour I would own every inch of him. Although he wore pants, the fabric was thin. When we left the elevator and walked toward my hotel room I could see the outline of his thick, long cock swinging underneath the fabric. Black boys are naturally horny and this one was no different from the rest. They think of themselves as being hardened heterosexual manhood, but pay them a little cash, or get them high, and they'll fuck anything that moves so long as it has warm flesh. When I got him to my room I didn't waste time with niceties. The niceties of civil society were not needed. I descended into the law of the jungle, which was something a horny black boy could understand. I started to tear the shirt he was wearing to shreds. He pulled back but I said, "Don't worry, my man, I'll pay extra for it. I just want to see the stud I purchased tonight." When the boy realized there was money in it for him he relaxed. I've learned that I can get black boys to do anything if I pay them enough money. By the time I got through ripping his shirt it hung off his lanky dark limbs like tattered rags. My eyes widened as his sculpted, naked arms and his smooth, brown chest emerged beneath the shreds. Breathing heavily like a black boy who was about to be raped, he looked every bit like a runaway slave. I knew I had to have that slave boy's cock inside of me. I grabbed his waist and fell backwards onto the bed, pulling the boy on top of me as he smothered me in the density of his young jungle manhood. Although he was lean, the black boy was solid muscle. That's the way most of them are. I'll bet he could breed a whole plantation of slave women, but tonight his services were reserved for me alone. I held his sculpted body and felt his cock getting aroused underneath his trousers. He couldn't help himself. He was black so he had to fuck. The moment he found himself pressed against warm, soft flesh, it didn't matter whether it was the flesh of a male or a female, his instincts. I undid his trousers and he shoved his long black cock inside my ass. I knew he was going to be worth every penny I paid for him. "Oh yeah, that's it jungle boy, fuck my tight white ass." He didn't answer me, he just grunted. He may have resented my calling him "jungle boy," but he released any resentment that he may have had with deep, hard thrusts of his cock, just as I hoped he would. I could feel his big nigger cock inside of me. He humped me like a dog in heat. I decided to motivate him further, "Yeah, that's it. Shove that black cock in deep you horny nigger slave." He clutched my body tightly and his thrusts grew more violent. I kissed his forearms and biceps, buried my nose in his armpits and took a deep whiff of the funk of his young black manhood. "Fuck me, nigger, fuck me." He fucked me angrily. I knew my white-boy pussy felt good on his black cock because he bit his lip, his eyes rolled up inside his head, and he moaned and groaned. He was a beast. I had made him that. My hard white cock rubbed against his smooth brown body while the black boy fucked me hard, pumping his energy inside of me. He must have been a beast on the basketball court, just as he was a beast in the bed. I held onto his smooth, hard arms while he plowed into my body. The thought crossed my mind that less than 200 years ago I could have purchased this boy and owned him forever. I could have made him surrender his dark body to me and do whatever I wanted. I ran my hands over his shoulder blades and down his back as he performed his services. I thought how wonderful it would be to own a black slave today and make him lick my balls and plow my ass every morning. I abruptly ordered the boy to stop and to take off all of his clothes. He did so slowly, reluctantly, confused and concerned that he did something "wrong." I told him that he hadn't done anything wrong; I just wanted to enjoy his naked body. I wanted to fully possess what I owned. When he finished removing his clothes he stood in front of me naked, like a black native in the jungle. But I gasped when I realized that he looked like a brown smooth-skinned god. He was the son of the earth, a black warrior, ready for battle. The rise and fall of his chest with his every breath showed he was ready to fight or to fuck, he could have it either way. His black god-like features enveloped my body like the mysteries of the night. The heat of his brown body warmed my European coolness. I gently kissed the muscles of his abs and made a trail down to his pubes because I wanted to be close to this black boy's sun-baked strength. I knew he could free me from my rationality and my inhibitions. As I smelled the dark fertility of his pubes I kissed his flaccid black cock, worshipping its potency, and I licked his balls, tasting his energy. I ran my hands over his smooth brown body, appreciating each sculpted muscled curve. I ran my hands down to his pubes and his long, black cock. What they say about black boys is true. It's hard for me to imagine a white man with a long, thick lasso like the one that dangled between that boy's legs. I grabbed his black lasso and played with it. He pulled back, but I reminded him that I owned him for the night. Resentfully, he sucked air and allowed me to continue fondling his big, black cock. I pulled on his cock and stroked it, making it grow hard in my hand. I ran my fist up and down the shaft, watching the head on his cock swell and turn purple with passion. I moved in closer so I could study the way his cock responded as if I were engaged in a scientific experiment. His black cock grew harder and harder until it stood erect, jutting out in front of his body. He became a responsive flesh toy in my hands. I continued to stroke his cock vigorously and remembered a chant we used to shout in the playground when I was a boy, "Nigger dick, nigger dick. Let me see your nigger dick." I don't know why we chanted it at the time, there were no black boys in our class, but now that boyhood chant had meaning. I softly whispered the chant as I stroked the boy's black cock. I repeated it over and over as his cock throbbed inside my fist. I jerked harder and harder on his cock with each repetition of the chant, as if I were coaxing the cum out of his body. His body gyrated with the rhythm of my strokes and my chanting until he couldn't control himself any longer. He unleashed his pent-up energy, catching me off-guard, shooting thick loads of cum that pelted me with violent strength. I tried to move out of the line of fire but the black boy's jism already covered my face. After the first blasts from the boy's cock I moved so that the remaining globs landed harmlessly on the bed. His arms flailed wildly. His grunts and his groans and the contorted expression on his face showed that he had surrendered his body to me. He was no longer in control of himself; the truth is that he had never been in control. Like a puppet-master I had manipulated him. In less than an hour I had used his smooth, young body to bring all of my childhood fantasies to life. Globs of his earthy, potent seed lay in puddles on my bed. The rest of it oozed down my face. Absent-mindedly I licked some of the boy's cum as it reached reached the side of my mouth. The salty-sweet taste of the black boy's cum gave me a burst of energy. I savored it as though it was the nectar of a tropical fruit, the nectar of a southern god. I couldn't resist wrapping my lips around his elongated brown pole to suck more of the sex from his black body. I sucked his nectar from the hard, erect, throbbing hose between the boy's smooth brown thighs. I was hypnotized by the rhythm of his breathing as I watched the rising and falling of the crinkly black pubes that were in my face. While my gaze was lost in the verdant forest of the boy's pubes I was in awe of the power of his dark fertile body. I still tasted the sweet potency of his nectar in my mouth. When I finally finished using the boy I released him to the alley where I had found him, knowing, hoping at least, that someday in the depths of the city jungle at night we would find each other again.