The following story is fictional. As such, it is not based on any real events or people. All characters are over eighteen, and you must be over eighteen to read it. My stories contain graphic sexual content and offensive language. In real life, be respectful of others and never engage in anything even vaguely non-consensual. Use protection.

 

author -- eli on eli.vandergraaff@gmail.com

 

Characters:

Bradley von Acht

Caucasian; Age 22; Straight, brown hair; Blue eyes; 6' 4"; 200 lbs.

University Senior; President -- Pi Kappa Epsilon (PIKE); QB -- University Football team

Jon Swenson

Caucasian; Age 19; Neck-length, straight, blonde hair; Blue eyes; 5' 10"; 160 lbs.

University Sophomore; Treasurer -- PIKE Social Cmte; High School Football QB & Baseball

Kevin Striklin

Caucasian; Age 19; Straight, medium length, black hair -- shaggy bangs; Blue eyes; 6' 2"; 170 lbs.

University Sophomore; Member -- PIKE; High School Football & Wrestling

Taylor Harris

Caucasian; Age 21; Straight, dark, blonde hair; Blue eyes; 6' 2"; 185 lbs; Striking resemblance -- young Tom Brady

University Senior; Vice President -- PIKE; RB -- University Football team

Todd Dreyer

Caucasian; Age 21; Curly blonde hair; 6' 2"; Blue eyes; 175 lbs.

University Senior; Member -- PIKE; Rower -- University team

Colin Miller

African-American; Age 20; Short, black hair; Brown eyes; 6' 4"; 200 lbs.

University Junior; Boarding School Football & Baseball

Matt Jensen

Caucasian; Age 20; Short, white-blonde hair; Blue eyes; 6' 1"; 170 lbs.

University Junior; Secretary -- PIKE; Wrestler -- University team

Luke Jost

Caucasian; Age 21; Straight, brown hair; 6' 2"; Brown eyes; 170lbs.

University Senior; Treasurer -- PIKE; Football (Sidelined) University team

Ryan Cook

Caucasian; Age 19; Straight, light auburn hair; Blue eyes; 6' 0"; 160 lbs.

University Sophomore; Member -- Tau Kappa Epsilon (TKE); High School Football & Baseball

Dylan d'Abaco

Caucasian; Age 19; Straight, black hair -- shaggy bangs; Dark brown eyes; 6' 0"; 170 lbs.; Olive completion (Italian)

University Sophomore; Member -- TKE; Rugby -- University team

Chase James

Caucasian; Age 19; Straight, dark blonde hair; Light gray-green eyes; 6' 1"; 175 lbs.

University Sophomore; Member -- TKE; Rugby -- University team; Boarding School Rugby

Mason Alexander

Caucasian; Age 19; Straight, brown hair; Brown eyes; 5' 11"; 160 lbs.

University Sophomore; Member -- PIKE; High School Football & Basketball

Chris Flynn

Caucasian; Age 19; Straight, dark auburn hair; Brown eyes; 6' 0"; 160 lbs.

University Sophomore; Member -- PIKE; High School Football & Basketball

Tyler Harmon

Caucasian; Age 20; Neck-length, straight brown hair; Hazel eyes; 6' 2"; 175 lbs.

High School Football (RB) & Baseball

Dave Woolf

Caucasian; Age 20; Straight, blonde hair; Blue eyes; 6' 1"; 170 lbs.

High School Football & Baseball

Tyrese Lundsford

Biracial (Black/White); Age 22; Wide mohawk w/ long, tight, bouncy curls; Brown eyes; 6' 3"; 225 lbs.

University Senior; Vice President -- Alpha Phi Alpha (Ice Cold Brothas); TE -- University Football team

Darnell Ramsey

African-American; Age 21; Short, black hair; Brown eyes; 6' 5"; 210 lbs.

University Senior; President -- Alpha Phi Alpha (Ice Cold Brothas)

Deshawn Davis

African-American; Age 20; Short, black hair; Brown eyes; 6' 3"; 190 lbs.

University Junior; Active -- Alpha Phi Alpha (Ice Cold Brothas)

Trevon Whiteley

African-American; Age 20; Short, black hair; Brown eyes; 6' 6"; 215 lbs.

University Junior; Active -- Alpha Phi Alpha (Ice Cold Brothas)

Jonah Erickson

Caucasian; Age 18; Curly, blonde hair; Blue eyes; 5' 11"; 155 lbs.

University Freshman; High School Basketball & Baseball

Officer Trey Douglas

African-American; Age 23; Short-fade, black hair; Brown eyes; 6' 3"; 190 lbs. Lives with one of his baby-mommas with whom he has one child and another on the way. Has another baby-momma with whom he has one child.

Rookie police officer on City Police Dept.

Officer Akihiro Takahashi

Japanese-American descent; 26; Short, straight, black hair; Brown eyes; 6' 0"; 165 lbs. Married, with two children.

Rookie police officer on City Police Dept.

Officer Justin O'Hare

Irish-American descent; 23; Crew-cut, medium red hair; Pale blue eyes; 6' 2"; 175 lbs. Married to Kristi and expecting their first child.

Rookie police officer on City Police Dept.

 

 

 

 

 


 

Chapter 22

 

Kevin came from a wealthy family in a nearby state--the youngest child of three, having two older brothers. His mother was a socialite, coming from an even wealthier family, and didn't really have too much to do with her sons, not understanding males in general. Kevin's father favored his two, older, more responsible sons, viewing them as being the heirs to his company and the bulk of his fortune. (His parents were married, of course.) Kevin acted-out all his life, feeling abandoned by his parents...or most certainly, unloved. For example, his two, older brothers attended their father's alma mater, Yale, but his father flat-out told Kevin he wasn't `Ivy League material', sending him instead to this state university. When the hospital called Mrs. Striklin that evening, she was at a fund-raising event for an art museum, so she called Kevin's father, who flew his attorney to the university town with instructions to keep everything silent. The fact that neither parent desired to fly there and see their son should probably tell you something.

The attorney arrived at Memorial Hospital at 8 a.m. the morning Kevin was to be released and taken to the station for questioning. Similarly, Dylan's mother, Mrs. d'Abaco, had driven four hours the previous evening and was dozing in a chair in Dylan's room. Officer Akihiro had spoken with his Commanding Officer Madden--prior to leaving for the station--suggesting it would be a good idea for Madden and Officer Douglas to switch rooms. Therefore, Officer Douglas was forced to doze in another chair alongside Mrs. d'Abaco, while Officer Madden dozed in Kevin's room.

"No one gets released today until I've had a chance to speak with Mrs. d'Abaco. Okay?" the attorney instructed the nurses before heading to Kevin's room. Having been woken several times during the night by the staff, Kevin was sleeping soundly--dreaming of big, Black cocks--when his father's attorney walked in, asking to speak with Kevin in private. Naturally, Commanding Officer Madden, rubbing sleep from his eyes, agreed, stepping out in the hall and closing the door behind him.

"Kevin, wake up," the 33-year-old, father of two, attorney ordered. "Wake up."

"Huh? What? Who are you?" Kevin groggily answered--his thick, 9" hard-on holding up the sheet below.

"I'm Jeff Sorenson, an attorney at the law firm representing your family. Your father sent me to speak with you and represent you. He and your mother are shocked by this...`sexual assault' business and are deeply ashamed of you. You are not--under any circumstances--to press charges."

Kevin's face warmed with a blush in shame, but his hard-on wouldn't go down, looking at this DILF--dad-I'd-like-to-fuck. With deep blue eyes and slicked-back, blonde hair, the buff, young attorney was a sight for sore eyes, and the `former Kevin' persona rose to the surface. With his seductive smile and twinkling eyes, Kevin asked, "Why not, Mr. Sorenson? ...because they think a big, ole Black cock was shoved up my hard, round butt?" With the IV already out, Kevin pulled the sheet back and flipped over, exposing his exquisite, mouth-watering ass. "Well, they didn't. I've still got my hymen, and it's all yours stud." Kevin smiled, licking his lips and showing his dimples.

Mr. Sorenson closed his eyes and pursed his lips, "Mr. Striklin, please, let's keep this professional," but his cock hardened behind his expensive, grey flannel suit.

Kevin reached around and untied his gown, flipping back over on his back--now completely nude. If Kevin wasn't loved, he was certainly an Adonis, revealing his ripped abs, smooth pecs, ...and of course, his big, thick cock, jetting upward from his dense bush of black pubes. "Or maybe you'd prefer this. You wouldn't be the first to swing on it." Kevin smiled seductively yet with serious intent.

Jeff Sorenson was visibly flushed, as his own thick, 6" cock reached its maximum hardness, causing great discomfort behind his tightie-whities. "Mr. Striklin..."

Kevin interrupted, smiling softly at the attorney, "Call me `Kevin', please."

"Alright, Kevin, please let's keep this professional. I'm trying to help you."

"Really? Or are you trying to help my family cover-up what they view as a scandal...Jeff?" Kevin jacked on his big, hard, 9" cock, staring the whole time at the attorney's obvious hard-on, licking his lips.

The lawyer was completely rattled now, but being extremely intelligent, he came back with, "Both. This is your future we're talking about and what your family views as a scandal. So, please put your gown back on." Kevin continued eyeing the sexy DILF, licking his lips and rubbing his balls, while jacking his cock in his other hand. His masculine beauty was breathtaking, and of course, Kevin knew this, using it to his full advantage.

"But you want my full cooperation, right?" Kevin asked slowly in almost a whisper.

"Yes, Kevin. We need you to state to the police that the... sexual circumstances of last night were consensual, although you weren't aware you'd been given any drugs--that you knew nothing about the drugs--and that you refuse to file any charges against the defendants. This will leave the State without a case for the... sexual business, keeping that part from public view. This is both to your benefit and your family's. Don't you agree?"

Kevin was silent, still behaving seductively, before slowly saying--slightly above a whisper--"Y-e-a-h... but what you don't know is how much I hate my family. I could care less what they think. I've done nothing wrong, and the police know this. Besides, if my parents really cared about my future, they wouldn't have sent me to this shitty State university. Understand?" Kevin paused a second, as his hand left his big bull balls and slowly slid across his smooth six-pack, massaging one of his large pink nipples, licking his lips. "But I get your position, Jeff. My daddy and his company are a huge part of your law firm's business, so naturally, you don't want to disappoint Daddy ... and you probably have ambitions to make full-partner. Am I right?"

The attorney's mouth was dry as cotton, as a thousand perverted fears flew through his brain. "Mr. Striklin..."

"Kevin."

"Kevin, please, I'm not sure what you're getting at, but I'm married and the father of two," Mr. Sorenson pleaded.

"What I'm getting at is this. Pull the curtain around the bed... take off your suit coat and tie and roll up your sleeves... then pull that straight-back chair up next to the bed."

"I'm not gay, Kevin."

"And neither am I. Besides, I don't believe in labels. Beauty is everywhere around us, isn't it? So pull the curtain, stud."

Mr. Sorenson was physically shaking, looking in the face like he'd seen a ghost. He was a ladies' man, discretely unfaithful to his wife. He set his attaché down and pulled the curtain around the bed. He didn't know whether Kevin was serious and, if so, what he intended exactly. Despite his best efforts at keeping calm, he felt sweat trickling from his armpits down his sides, and his teeth began chattering. He folded his suit coat over the large chair and pulled the straight-backed chair behind the curtain and alongside the bed, before rolling up his sleeves. "One last time, before you ask me to do anything... Please, I'm straight--married--and the father of two, adorable children..."

Rubbing his pecs, Kevin seductively asked, "Don't you think the male body can be beautiful? Don't you look in the mirror and say, `Fuck, I'm hot.' And don't you look at me and think my body's a work of art? If not, why has your cock been hard since I pulled back my sheet? Why do you keep staring at my big, fuckin' cock? Look at it." Jacking his cock, a large dollop of precum bubbled on the top before running down the long shaft, disappearing in his forest of black hair.

The attorney's nostrils flared, taking in the boy's magnetic scent; he closed his eyes, letting them roll into his head for a moment--trying all the time to keep his composure. Jeff Sorenson had never had any gay fantasies--much less encounters--in his life. In fact, as mentioned, he had a bit of a problem over the years keeping his pants zipped around women, although, nowadays, he tried hard limiting these affairs to out-of-town business trips and solo trips to New Haven, CT to `visit his parents'. (College girls were so much fun.) Now, for whatever reason, this nude stud was totally fucking with his head.

"Have you ever held another man's cock, Jeff?"

"N-n-no... no, never," the handsome, Ivy League attorney stammered.

"Have you ever seen another man's erection, stud?"

"Never..."

"My cock's pretty fuckin' big, isn't it? It's a lot bigger than yours, am I?"

"Y-y-yeah, maybe..."

"Maybe my ass. I'm not blind. It's a fuckin' beautiful cock, isn't it?"

"I-I-I suppose so..."

"There ain't no supposing about it. I wanna hear you say, `Your big cock is fuckin' beautiful, Kevin'," the young stud commanded.

"Please, Kevin..."

"You don't want to piss-off Daddy, do you? You don't want a big scandal for the old man, do you? ...lose Daddy's company as a client ...lose your opportunity to become partner at your law firm? This is just between you and me ...stud ...our little deal. No one will ever know ...except you and me. Now say, `Your big cock is beautiful, Kevin', then say something about my body."

"Your big cock is fuckin' beautiful, Kevin, and you're very handsome."

"Thanks. I think you're hot too ...obviously. Now kiss me."

"P-p-please, Kev..."

Kevin's anger flared, as he cut the attorney off, "You fuckin' say that one more goddamned time, and I'm walking out of here without you! Now, fuckin' kiss me or get the fuck out! I don't give a fuck one way or the other!"

This kid had him over a goddamned barrel. He was this close to becoming a full partner at his law firm in Boston, where the competition was intense. He couldn't afford to piss-off Mr. Striklin, who had a worse temper than this brat. The DILF attorney closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and bent over Kevin's face. Mr. Sorenson hoped a chaste kiss on the lips would suffice, but Kevin's strong hands grabbed the back of his head and the stud's tongue was in his mouth before the attorney knew what happened. Kevin had a LOT of practice kissing over the years, so he was pretty damn good at it. Kevin's long fingers wove themselves through the handsome attorney's slicked-back, blonde hair, as he moaned into the older man's mouth. Kevin kept a hold of the man's head, kissing the dude for three or four minutes, and by the time he let go of him, Jeff Sorenson was light-headed, leaking precum, and completely confused. Why had his body reacted as it had to this ...perverted kiss??

Kevin's new instructions shocked Mr. Sorenson even more. "Now I want you to grab my big, fuckin' cock in one hand, rub my abs with the other, and lay that sexy face of yours down in my pubes and breathe me in."

The attorney wanted to plead one more time, but as angry as Kevin got before, he couldn't risk pissing him off. He'd just have to try to hold his breath and pretend it was his wife's cunt ...although she was blonde. So many emotions and thoughts raced through Mr. Sorenson's mind, as he followed the new instructions. His manly hand couldn't even wrap around Kevin's thick cock. How could a kid have such a big, fuckin' cock?? It was humiliating in so many ways! At 33 and a straight fucker of pussy, his cock was over 3" smaller than this 19-year-old, faggot-brat. This just didn't compute. And weren't all fags supposed to be limp-wristed and `light-in-the-loafers'?? He closed his eyes and laid his face down in the dense patch of black pubes, holding his breath, and shortly thereafter, he felt Kevin's fingers playing with the hair on the back of his head, massaging his scalp.

"You know, you remind me of a Gucci model, sexy-puss. You look good down there in my pubes, babe, but I don't feel your breath. I don't want you suffocating to death. I can see the headline on the Boston Herald now, "Up-and-Coming Attorney Suffocates in Pubes of Prominent Businessman's Son." Kevin laughed, but straight Jeff Sorenson didn't, though he did exhale and inhale. "Ah-h-h, that's it, babe... Breathe me in and jack my big, juicy cock."

The young attorney held his breath as long as he could, but Kevin had kept his face there too long. Now, that he'd breathed him in once, it didn't make sense to try holding his breath further, and though he was loathed to admit it, the boy smelled a lot better than his wife down there, which left him very confused. He felt two or three dollops of precum running over his hand, and he cringed, praying they didn't run anywhere near his face. The kid's fingers, running through his hair and massaging his scalp, felt good and relaxed him a little. No, the kid didn't smell bad at all down here--a lot better than his wife. Jesus, this kid's cock was big! ...so much different than his own... This was just between he and the boy, and afterward, he'd block the whole event from his memory: he was good at compartmentalizing. Kevin's abs were incredible too, if he were forced to admit it. While Jeff was slender and in shape, he'd lost his youthful abs sometime after Law School. The kid's abs reminded him of those he used to have. How he used to love showing them off, going shirtless on the field or in a park...rubbing them for the chicks. Yeah, Jeff Sorenson was conceited too.

With Kevin fingers strumming through his hair relaxing him, he didn't realize he'd begun rubbing his nose up-and-down in the thick pubes. He didn't realize he was twisting his hand around Kevin's big cock like he was polishing a chair leg. But Kevin did. And after about five minutes of letting this DILF nose-around in his thick bush, Kevin whispered, "Stick your tongue out, Jeff, and taste me," and he didn't bat an eye in surprise when he felt the attorney's tongue licking his pubes. "Oh-h-h, Jesus FUCK, that feels so good, baby!" Kevin spread his legs apart. "Lower... Yeah, lower... That's it, lick my big, stud balls, babe... Oh, fuck yeah, you're a natural, dude... Suck those balls..."

Jon was such a sweet, kind faggot. He'd brought both Dylan and Kevin a change of clothes, and he'd talked Officer Akihiro into giving him their billfolds, keys, and cell phones. Kevin really owed him a fuck of thanks for being such a considerate, thoughtful faggot. Of course, Kevin owed him this fuck of gratitude, as he was videoing the whole thing with his other hand. Oh-h-h, Kevin didn't mean any harm by it! ...maybe just...fucking the dude senseless tonight in his hotel room! ...and it might--just might--come in handy if he ever needed Mr. Sorenson's help somehow as regards his daddy's fortune.

"Oh-h-h, you hot sexy fuck, you... You're a hot motherfucker, you know it..." Kevin purred--his cooing voice only made the married attorney want to serve him more, as he washed the boy's balls in his mouth. Serve, that's what attorneys do; they serve other people. And Jeff Sorenson, with his eyes closed in a dream, had lost himself in lust, serving this hot, fucking stud. There was no denying this was another male, though he tried his best to block this reality. It wasn't remotely as bad as he'd imagined it would be. In fact, the boy smelled so good down there. No, this wasn't bad at all. He'd think about all the rest of it later ...and, indeed, he would: a couple of years later, for example, when he'd find himself seduced by a straight, conniving, young real estate agent, bribing his purchase of a multimillion-dollar house ... or a year after that, when he'd find himself in a hotel room on a business trip sucking the cocks of two, straight, professional baseball players he'd met in a bar, who used him all night ... or years later, when he'd let himself be seduced and fucked by his 16-year-old son's best friend--a soccer buddy--inside his own garage in the backseat of his Mercedes. Jeff Sorenson would think about Kevin then and yearn for the boy, but, of course, he didn't know any of this now. All he knew in this moment was how sweet Kevin's skin tasted and how intoxicating the boy's scent was.

"Lick my great big cock, dude..." The blonde, Gucci model attorney opened his eyes to gaze up at the Adonis' face ...and his heart sunk. `How could I have been this stupid," Jeff thought. He pulled his head back and covered his face, as he began convulsing in sobs. All the young attorney could think about at this moment were his two, young children--a two-year old girl and a 5-year-old boy.

Kevin was immensely turned-on, seeing the sexy attorney crying--the platinum wedding ring glinting in the morning light filtering through the window. A thick glob of precum rolled off Kevin's cockhead. "Relax dude... This is just between us... Come here." Kevin shoved the phone between the mattress. "Come on, climb up here and let me make it up to you, Kevin cooed.

"No, Kevin," Mr. Sorenson managed between sobs, "no more."

"Come on, dude... You're the most beautiful dude I've ever had between my legs ...for real," Kevin lied. Well, how could he possibly choose! There'd been so many beautiful straight studs swinging on his cock! "Kick your shoes off and get up here. I just want to hold you..."

Overwrought, the attorney blindly kicked off his shoes and climbed on the bed, laying down on top of Kevin. Kevin's gooey cock leaked and smeared on the lawyer's expensive, grey flannel suit pants, ruining them. Kevin wrapped one arm around the man's back, rubbing it, while the other wove itself through the attorney's blonde hair. Kevin began whispering sweet nothings in the man's ear, sticking his tongue inside, licking it. Jeff's ears had always been a highly erogenous zone, and soon the two were passionately kissing each other--Kevin licking the man's salty tears from his face. This boy was like no other lover the handsome attorney had ever had. He felt the boy's big hands grabbing his firm hard glutes, squeezing them, and his own cock leaked a big glob of straight-man precum. He kept asking himself what he was doing, and each time, he threw the question out of his head. This boy flipped all his switches.

Kevin broke the kiss--the man's slobber running down the side of his seducer's cheeks--and pushed downward on the young attorney's shoulders. "Suck my big, fuckin' cock, boy... You need me in you..." What had Kevin done to this young, straight attorney? Jeff crawled down the bed, grabbed the big cock in one hand, and licked the thick, percolating precum form the boy's meaty cockhead. Thirty-five minutes ago, Mr. Sorenson might have taken a swing at you, if you'd told he he'd be a cocksucker before long, but the boy's seed was an addictive ambrosia, resulting in his tongue rolling around the thick head and his lips sucking it for more of Kevin's sweet nectar.

"Oh, Y-E-A-H... that's it... Suck it like the bitches suck you, stud... Hot motherfucker..." The straight attorney tried taking more of the big cock in his mouth and gagged. "Twist your head on it, babe... Deep throat me like the cunts do you... OH, YEAH!! Suck that cock, bitch! You're a fuckin' natural, dude!" The handsome lawyer could only manage about 5" of Kevin's 9", but he was giving his all at pleasing the young stud. That's all he wanted to do--make this beautiful, 19-year-old Adonis happy.

Kevin watched and videoed the dude bobbing and twisting on his cock--his pink lips covered with the frothy, white goo of his precum. Kevin moaned each time his fat cockhead punched into the young attorney's hot, squeezing throat. Both Mr. Sorenson's hands slid underneath, grabbing Kevin's hard, fat glutes, trying to force more of the young stud inside him. He wanted this boy's essence--he needed this boy's seed inside him.

"Lick your finger and fuck my cunt with it, stud..." Mr. Sorenson reluctantly pulled off the fat cock long enough to lube his middle finger, as Kevin raised his knees with his feet flat on the bed, exposing his tight, pink rosebud. "Have you ever seen a prettier cunt, Jeff?"

The lawyer appeared hypnotized by the pale, little hole, mumbling, "No..."

"Fuck my cunt with your finger while you suck my cum, stud," Kevin directed. Kevin's hole was tighter and hotter than any hole he'd ever fingered--its walls squeezing against his long finger as it moved in-and-out. Kevin moaned and writhed on the bed as the finger rode back-and-forth over the top of his nut, and the young attorney bobbed and twisted, sucking the juicy cock, wanting nothing more than the boy's cum inside him. Kevin grabbed handfuls of the man's perfectly quaffed hair, holding him down, as huge globs of cum shot through his big cock and into the man's warm, tight throat. "Eat my fuckin' cum, bitch!" Jeff felt the boy's hot liquid surging through the thick meat in his mouth, hitting the back of his throat, and he felt happy he'd pleased the young god. Kevin released the man's head, and though Mr. Sorenson could have pulled off the cock if he'd wanted, he instead kept the juicy cockhead in his mouth, swallowing as fast as he could and savoring the taste of Kevin's seed. In spite of his best efforts, thick, white globs slipped out the corners of the married man's mouth, rolling down the long length of the cock, which, afterward, he licked-up, cleaning the boy's pubes and his big...thick...cock--all on his own, without being asked.

Kevin pulled the man forward, sucking the long finger that had fucked him. He threw his legs around the man, kissing him. "You're a great lover, you know it?" Kevin cooed, while the young attorney blushed in modesty. Kevin licked the man's ear, whispering, "See? It's no big deal... It's just two people enjoying each other... Dude, chick, it doesn't matter... We're just two humans, floating through this thing called life..." The two men laid like that, holding each other tightly--their faces in the crooks of each other's' necks and Kevin's long legs wrapped around the attorney's butt.

Kevin finally unwrapped his legs and loosened his hold, rubbing the man's back, whispering, "We'd better get dressed and get this over with. You do all the talking, and I'll follow your lead. You'll stay the night in town, and I'll go to your hotel room. Okay?" The lawyer smiled and nodded.

 

*******

 

In the lobby room, Mrs. d'Abaco, Dylan, and an exhausted Officer Madden sat impatiently waiting for Kevin and his attorney. When the two finally walked up, Mrs. d'Abaco sourly stated, "Well, it's about time! You've been in there for almost an hour and a half! And what's that on your shirt and pants?" The attorney blushed, answering that he'd spilled a latte down himself earlier. "Well, you're not very graceful, are you?"

"May I speak with you and your son privately for a moment?" Mr. Sorenson asked politely.

"Well, I suppose!" she retorted.

Officer Madden walked outside to wait for them there, while Mr. Sorenson laid his cards out for Mrs. d'Abaco, who readily concurred, not wanting any public scandal. As the four walked outside to join the policeman, Kevin whispered in Dylan's ear not to make any plans for that night, promising him a ride he'd never forget, to which Dylan nodded his agreement.

 

*******

 

In the two weeks following Brad's assault at the hands of Colin and the Ice Cold Brothas, he recuperated and pretty much stayed, not wanting to have to remember complicated lies to tell intrusive frat bros who kept asking what happened to him. He even avoided his best friend, Taylor, knowing now the running back was a full-fledged faggot ...who'd likely been jonesing on his giant cock this whole time. Of course, he'd avoided Kevin like the plague...as best he could, that is. In those two weeks, Kevin managed cornering Brad five times demanding he `suck and swallow'--under threat of exposure from the photos he'd taken. So now, in addition to all the Black babies he had swimming through his bloodstream, Brad had plenty of little Kevin's inside him too. To say Brad was stressed was putting things mildly. At the top of his list, of course, was whether he'd be drafted to a professional football team, but right up there next to it were lingering questions regarding his sexuality. If he knew two things, they were: (1) he'd not be able to play as an openly gay man and (2) his father would never accept him.

While Brad told himself he wasn't gay, he had a strange urge to reach out to a particular person, over which he stewed and agonized. Why did he want to see this person? What were the implications of this strange urge? More ominously, what would happen if he did meet this person? The person Brad wanted to talk to was one of his rapists. This person was the only one--other than Tyrese--who hadn't taken part in his beating or pushed him down the steep flight of stairs at the carriage house. Of course, the Black bro hadn't done anything to stop any of this either and had, in fact, fucked him three times over the course of that horrible night and following day.

The story Brad told himself was that he wanted to apologize for using the `n' word, for which he was sincerely sorry. He told himself he'd like to have this man as his friend--his first Black friend, who he could meet for drinks and talk sports or shoot some pool or whatever the bro's interests were. Subconsciously--though Brad would never admit this consciously--this brotha had given him three, really good fucks--nonviolent, unlike those thrown by the others over that terrifying 16-hour nightmare. Something else Brad would never admit consciously is that he found the bro exceedingly handsome.

For two weeks, Brad would start to call the brotha then stop--eight or nine digits into the dude's number. Brad was disgusted with himself. How could he be so fuckin' weak?? What the fuck was he thinking?? Had he too many concussions over the years? Then at 2:15 a.m. one morning, he woke up and called the number on a little piece of paper.

"Hullo," a deep voice full of sleep answered. Brad's mind went blank. He suddenly didn't know what to say. "Hullo?" Still, silence permeated the air. "Who this...callin' me in the middle of the night??"

Finally, Brad choked-out, "Um-m-m... It's ah-h-h... It's... It's me, Brad."

"Brad who?" the groggy, slightly irritated brotha asked, hoping it had been some hungry pussy on the other end, but before Brad could reply, a wave of recognition suddenly swept over the man, "Oh-h-h, that Brad... What you want??"

"I'm... I'm sorry to have woken you..." Brad paused, wondering what the fuck to say. "Uh-h-h... I ah-h-h... I just want to apologize to you."

"What the fuck... Have you been smokin'?? Is you high or something??"

Brad was nervous and began speaking more quickly, as though to end the conversation sooner, "Listen, I just wanted to apologize for sayin' the `n' word. I'm really ashamed, and I deserved what I got that night. I'm sorry for calling you so late."

"H-o-l-d o-n, motherfucker... Are you still there?"

Brad's heart felt like it was beating a million beats per minute, "Yeah."

"Is this some kind of joke??"

"No joke, bro. Listen, I'm really sorry for waking you." Brad regretted making the call.

"Hold on, White boy. Why you really call me at... what? ...2:20 in the morning??"

"I said I want to apologize for saying that word to you." Then very rapidly, Brad added, "And I thought maybe you'd like to meet-up sometime."

The deep voice laughed on the other end of the line. "White boy, you as high as fuck right now!" More laughter echoed.

"No, I'm serious. I'd like to talk to you. Please stop laughing at me."

"You wanna talk to me?" the voice asked incredulously. "Listen, I accept your apology. You feel better?"

"No. Do you have a car?" The nervousness showed in Brad's voice.

Quiet filled the air a moment. "I ain't getting' out in this freezing cold at 2:20 in the morning."

"Oh! I... I'm sorry. Maybe sometime soon? ...a movie, maybe?" Brad was kicking himself! What a stupid thing to say! He sounded like some fuckin', love-sick teenager--which he was NOT! "I-I didn't mean that. I meant, drinks or something ...just to say I'm sorry, you know?"

The brotha on the other end of the line sat up in bed, fully awake now. He knew the quarterback was serious due to the nervous inflection in his voice, accompanied by a light chattering of teeth. (Brad was so nervous he didn't realize his teeth were chattering.) The handsome Black man initially thought Brad might be trying to lay some sort of trap with the PIKES, but awake and listening more carefully now, Darnell's 11" cock--5" in diameter at its base--filled with blood: this White boy wanted his Black cock. If there was one thing for which he'd put on clothes and coat in the middle of the night, it was sex. "Alright," Darnell slowly purred, "you wanna talk, huh?"

"Yeah."

"And you want me to come pick you up?"

"Yeah, but we can't go there. I'm afraid of the others. Uh, not afraid, but you know..."

"Yeah, I know, White boy: you afraid ...but it's cool. I come pick you up, but where we goin' this time of night?"

"Uh, I don't know. We could drive around, I guess..."

"I come pick you up. It's a dark red BMW. Be there in 20, okay?"

"Yeah, sure. Thanks."

 

*******

 

Outside, an uncommon silence hung in the freezing night air of the college town, and blankets of snow reflected the street lights, as Darnell pulled up in front of the PIKE house at nearly 3 a.m. The 6' 4" quarterback stood huddled on the sidewalk waiting on the Ice Cold Brotha. Both knew what the story was, but neither would be the first to broach the subject. Brad jumped inside the warm car--his teeth chattering both from the cold and the inevitable. Darnell handed him a flask of Scotch, and Brad took several swigs, thanking Darnell for picking him up and for the drink. Neither boy spoke for a bit, as Darnell took the car on a road going out in the dark countryside. The only sound in the car was its heater, blasting out heavy warm air.

Brad finally started the conversation, asking if Darnell knew whether Tyrese had received any letters from the Pros yet, to which Darnell knew nothing, having not spoken to Tyrese since the infamous night at the carriage house. Darnell thought homosexuality was endemic to White people and, thus, almost excusable, but for Black men to be gay--especially prominent athletes, like Tyrese--it was a violation of the natural order and downright offensive. He'd read and listened to famous Black prophets and the like, and he agreed that if any race was inferior, it was certainly the White race. So, if this White jock wanted to swing on his cock, bring it on! However, as far as Darnell was concerned, his friendship with Tyrese was a thing of the past.

Brad talked about his own prospects, asking Darnell for his opinion and getting `don't knows' in response. He tried asking Darnell questions about his family, to which the handsome, Black man replied with monosyllable answers, if at all. Darnell was getting bored with this game, and after about 20 minutes on the curving, rural highway, he turned off on a gravel road, leading to an old, German church and cemetery in a wooded area out in the middle of nowhere. Pulling in behind the church under the cover of frozen fir trees, Darnell parked the car, pushed his seat back, and spread his legs. "You do the rest, White boy."

The nervousness and fear Brad felt earlier returned. His truth was exposed for the world to see--behind a church, of all places. "I-I-I want you to know how sorry I am." Brad's blue eyes filled with big tears, as he fought to swallow the lump in his throat.

The Black man's big hand cupped the back of Brad's neck, pulling him down. "I know you are, babe ...and I told you I forgive you." Brad von Acht--wet dream of every girl...and not a few men--turned to putty in this 6' 5", Black man's hands, as his head was pulled ever lower. "Now, let's talk about why you really here ...why you really call me at 2:20 in the morning..."

Big, silent tears streaked down Brad's handsome face, as he turned in his seat, dropping his knees to the floorboard. The last thing he said for the next several minutes was, "You won't tell anyone, will you?"

"Nah, I won't tell anyone...". Brad leaned forward, unbuttoning the stud's jeans. Darnell lifted his hips, and Brad pulled the man's jeans and white briefs down over his big, hard butt. "All the way, so I can spread my legs, babe... Just my right shoe; leave my left one on... Just wanna be able to spread my right leg, pretty girl..."

Inside, Brad cringed, being referred to in the feminine tense, but he also wanted something ...and that big, hard something jetted proud and upward between the man's legs. Normally, the oh-so-very-handsome stud would lay his seat back and let the bitches do their work, but he only put his seat back a little, needing to witness the quarterback's descent into voluntary cock-servitude. Darnell turned in his seat a bit, throwing his right leg onto Brad's left shoulder. "Show me why you really called me... Show me what you really need, White boy..."

Brad physically shook as he leaned forward, wrapping his hand on the warm, dark shaft and opening his mouth around the Black man's juicy cockhead. He sucked, rubbing his tongue against its underside, and a thick drop of Black seed spread across the back of his tongue.

"So, you need to understand, White boy, why you came to me," Darnell spoke, watching his big, thick, Black cock, sliding into Brad's willing mouth. "You Whites are inferior to us Blacks. You came to me, because, subconsciously, you recognize this. You look at this Black man, and you want to be like him ...but you never will be--though you'll be better off than your disgusting White counterparts who don't take Black seed inside themselves."

As he sucked on the big cock--jacking the base of its shaft and rubbing the Black bull's balls--Brad listened to the deep, sexy voice, and somewhere inside, he sort of believed the man to whom he was so inexplicably attracted. All Brad knew for sure in this moment was he wanted to sexually please this man and have his thick, sweet cum inside him again. As difficult as it was for him to consciously understand, Brad was very attracted to this handsome man--like no other girl or guy before.

"You need me, White boy... You need me badly. You will always need me. Twenty years from now, you'll lay in bed, masturbating your pasty white cock, dreaming of me." Darnell paused, enjoying the superb blow job he was being given. "Oh, White boy, you are so pleasing your master--your superior... Suck that mighty, Black cock, boy... Y-e-a-h... Look at us Blacks, boy... From birth, 99% of the time, we're born bigger than you--bigger bodies, bigger muscles, bigger craniums... And as we grow, we just keep getting bigger than you pasty White folk--taller, stronger, more virile... We just better than you in every way... And look at yo'self, White boy... down there on yo' knees, suckin' my cock... I've never put a goddamned cock in my mouth and never will! But look at yo'self, boy... You down there `cause you NEED Black cum inside you to survive."

Brad's mind was felt so calmed by the deep, seductive voice and the big, Black hands running through his dark blonde hair. Darnell was right. This dude was born with all these thigh muscles, resting on his shoulder. He was born with the perfect set of abs, directly in his view. Brad had to work from his early teen years, developing his body, working out. He'd have been just another lanky boy had he not. He rubbed the man's left thigh--feeling his muscles, while slobbering on the stud's Black cock, rubbing his tongue along its shaft, swallowing Darnell's savory precum.

"You need my big, Black cock fuckin' yo pussy, don't ya?" When Brad continued sucking, not answering the question, Darnell popped him lightly on the ear, ordering, "You answer my questions, White faggot..."

Brad was ashamed answering the question the way it was worded, so rather than looking Darnell in the eyes, he stared down at the nest of kinky, Black pubes, saying, "I had to have stitches there from last time. They're out now, but it's still too sore."

"F-u-c-k... You don't blame me for that, do ya? I'm sorry them niggas were so mean to ya that night..." Darnell thought he shouldn't be surprised at this revelation, but he was all the same.

Still looking down, Brad said, "No, not you."

"Now I understand why you so scared of them, pretty girl. You stick with me, and I'll give you what you need and keep them off you. Understand?"

Brad--inhaling the scent of this man and his precum--just wanted back on the big cock, and staring at it, he simply nodded once.

"Okay, show your man why you need him..." and Brad closed his eyes, taking the cockhead in his mouth, rolling his tongue around the gooey meat. "Before you call me next time--and you will call me, whether you realize it or not--you get yo'self a pair of silk panties, a thong, and bra ...preferably pink. Understand? I don't wanna see that dick of yo's." Brad nodded, sucking the huge, Black meat. "Y-e-a-h, a blonde like you will look awfully pretty, wearing a pink, silk bra and a matching pair of silk panties ova' a thong. You'll be just another nigger-lovin', White cheerleader... You like that?" Astonishingly, Brad merely nodded, focused on the cockhead now wedging its way inside his hungry throat. "O-h-h-h, Y-E-A-H, pretty girl, deep throat my big, Black cock, bitch! ... Of course, you have to prove to me you're worthy of my superior, nigga cum. I don't just give it away to any ole inferior, White faggot..."

Brad hungered for this Darnell's cock, wanting to please him--hoping the virile Black man would let him suck this cock again. Here he was big, "straight" Brad--user of women--on his knees in the front seat of this extraordinarily handsome, Black man's sports car at 3:40 a.m. out in the middle of nowhere, sucking cock like it was his last meal--bobbing and twisting on this huge, 11", Black cock. On the downward plunge, he opened his throat, shoving 6" of the wonderful cock inside his throat, and with each downward plunge, he tried his best taking a little bit more inside his hot, wet haven. His eyes watered and his nose ran, but Brad didn't give a fuck. He just wanted to please this man to whom he was so drawn. Who cared about pussy, when you could serve and please a man like Darnell? As he bobbed and twisted ever-closer to the kinky, Black pubes, Brad rubbed his hands up-and-down and in circles over the Black stud's muscular thighs--as if memorizing them or trying to somehow bury himself inside this man.

Darnell cooed and whispered encouraging, satisfying sweet nothings, while he massaged the former stud-quarterback's shoulders. Brad was the first person to ever swallow all of Darnell's huge cock, and he couldn't have been happier feeling the jock's nose and watery lips down in his pubes--Brad's tight, hot throat rapidly squeezing his thick cock. Despite what he may tell Brad, he planned to get a LOT of mileage out of this cock-whore!!! "O-o-o, you fuckin' whore... your throat was made for my cock, bitch!! You gonna be one of this nigga's regular, cheap-whore cheerleaders, ain't ya?? I can't wait to fuck yo' pussy again, you pretty, little girl-cunt!!"

Brad twisted his head around on the base of the cock, running his nose through Darnell's musk, then raising his head up off the cock only to plunge back down its full length again. His hands dug themselves under the sexy, Black man's butt, groping each of his hard, round glutes. With his nose down in the kinky pubes, Darnell grabbed Brad's head, holding it down tightly, as Brad felt the huge cock shuddering inside his throat and warm, thick liquid hitting his esophagus. Brad felt like a girl--like any of over 200 he'd held down the same way--and the fuckin' thing is he felt a rush, whoring on this cock--a high, like on cocaine! He'd do it over-and-over again for this man, if Darnell allowed him.

"Filling you full of nigger cum, bitch! Oh, F-U-C-K! ...you god-damned, motherFUCKER!" Darnell loosen his grip on Brad's head, letting him pull the cock from his throat, then the Black stud tightened his grip again, yanking on the quarterback's blonde hair. Cum fell out Brad's nose, as he struggled to swallow all the rich, thick goo filling his mouth to overflowing. Thick, white globs slipped from the corners of his mouth, rolling down the thick, dark cock.

"Oh, yeah, girl, eat that Black cum! Taste yo' master, bitch!" Darnell pushed the jock's head off his now-sensitive cock, slapping his huge, cum-covered meat against Brad's Nordic face. "Yeah, bitch, I'm marking you as mine now... Nigger cum all over that pretty, White face of yo's..." Brad's pale face glistened in the dashboard lights, as Darnell smeared the thick cum all over it--shoving it back inside the quarterback's hot wet mouth for cleaning. "Clean me off, now, faggot... Don't you waste one drop of my precious seed... Eat that shit outta my pubes, like a good girl, now... Y-e-a-h..." Brad licked and sucked the cum pooled in the handsome stud's pubes, swallowing it along with loose pubes into his stomach. Wash my balls, fuckin' cunt--get every drop inside you, now...". Brad's eyes were closed, savoring this magnificent man's cum--this man who was so much more a man than he would ever be ... and so goddamned handsome too. When he finished washing his man's balls, Darnell pointed to his abs, where more smeared goo laid, and Brad licked another man's ripped abs.

Another man's... Reality began falling over Brad like a gentle snowfall. He--Brad von Acht--quarterback superstar...destined for the Pros...had another man's cum inside him, and he'd brought this reality on himself, calling the dude at 2:20 a.m., like a lovesick cheerleader--calls he'd received himself over the years. What had he done?

"Look at me, pretty girl," Darnell ordered. "You leave that cum on yo' face... You look good like that, yeah... Now, I wanna hear who's your man."

Brad heard his voice murmur, "You are..."

"I can't hear you. You're gonna have to speak up."

"You are, Darnell," Brad again heard himself answer. He felt dizzy with the implications of what he'd done this night, swirling around his head.

"That's right.... And what are you?" Brad looked down, confused as to how he should answer, but Darnell cleared this up for him, instructing, "Repeat after me. I'm a faggot-queer who's really a girl inside, in love with Darnell... Say it, faggot."

Brad didn't know how to take this. Somewhere deep inside, he'd hoped for something more `mutual', but clearly, he was the one who'd acted like a girl tonight. Brad hated saying these words, but he choked them out, hoping that, maybe soon, Darnell might come to think of him differently. Once again--almost in disbelief--he heard himself saying haltingly, "I'm... I'm a... a faggot-queer, who's a girl inside, in love with you."

"I cannot help being queer, because I'm White, an inferior race."

Darnell's right leg--still draped over his shoulder--weighed heavy on Brad, keeping him wedged in this compromising position between the Black man's legs--their weight adding to the despondent feeling, hanging over the formerly totally-straight quarterback. To Brad, these statements Darnell asked him to repeat sort of indicated the handsome Black man did not reciprocate his feelings. Still, a small part of Brad held out hope this was just a game Darnell was playing with him, so he repeated the statement, although his voice was low and cracked with a gnawing catch in his throat--the lump inside trying its best to make the beautiful jock cry.

"I called Darnell, because--having been filled with precious Black cum inside my ass and stomach--I now know just how inferior I am and how much I'm now a slave to Black men."

Brad repeated as he was asked, but this time the lump did catch inside his throat. His voice cracked, and Brad began crying. Darnell pulled Brad's face down in his pubes again, where the quarterback's salty tears mixed with the dried cum on his face and in the kinky pubes.

Darnell pet Brad's dark blonde hair, trying to sooth the broken boy. "Now, now... What are you so upset about? You've got what you need, pretty baby--my big, Black cock. What could be the matter?"

Amid the muffled sobbing and convulsing, Darnell heard what could only be called `music to his ears': it sounded like Brad said, "Don't you like me? Don't you feel anything for me?"

When he dropped a solemn, exhausted Brad off in front of the PIKE house at nearly 5:00 a.m., Darnell knew he had Brad just where he wanted him.

 

End -- Chapter 22