Kappa Kappa Cocksucker

Chapter 15: "Stoking A Cocksucker's Hunger"

I was so incredibly hyper all afternoon as 9 pm approached. I couldn't deny the feeling of cum-hunger that was second nature already, or the excitement of knowing I was about to be fed two brand new dicks, and that if I did well, a whole house full of horny black men were about to be offered the chance to cum down my throat on a regular basis. The mix of being used like a whore and simultaneously being treated like I was uniquely valuable to these horny black dudes made me feel like I was living on testosterone, cum, and adrenalin. I wanted to worry about it but couldn't muster the energy to even try and trump the accompanying arousal with resistance, the power of former concepts of propriety completely undone by my experience of passion. I realized that college really wasn't to me about getting a college education anymore. It was about making sure black dudes liked fucking my throat and nutting into my stomach. And making sure they wanted to do it non-stop.

The whole `pretending to be a female' thing was buggin' me, even making me a little bit afraid. What if the new guys figured it out and wanted to kick my ass? I only looked like I could defend myself; deep down inside I was a pussy who couldn't handle violence, really, emotionally or physically. It was one of the secret fears I'd kept hidden about feeling like I could never be a real man because I was convinced I could never throw a punch, intentionally cause harm to someone. The thought that followed that, though, was excruciatingly hot, and made me have to force myself from not palming the dick between my own legs that had been hard for the last two hours in anticipation. One more time I was trying to corral some self-respect as I used to understand it only to have it obliterated by horndog fantasies of what I really wanted. I gave in to the thoughts broiling in my head enough to close my eyes and abandon myself to the scenario. In it, I made some sort of mistake and the two dudes realized I was a dude behind the curtain sucking their dicks, and they yanked that shit down and were squaring up on me, cowering on my knees and waiting to be fucked up. They were calling me a "god-damn sick faggot!" and yelling "I can't believe you put my dick in yo' fuckin' mouf! I'm gonna kick your pussy ass!" Instead of terror at just the thought of it, my nipples plumped up because as the fantasy played out, I pictured Dante, Darnell and Marcus stepping between the angry dudes and me. Dante would have spoken first. "Yo', man, my bad. But you need to chill; it was my idea to try this shit out `cuz the head is fuckin' awesome and I thought you'd dig it. Ain't no reason to draw down on the little faggot, I made this shit happen."

"Yeah," added Marcus. "And we ain't gonna stand by and let you fuck up the bitch,neither. Shit, man, they's four brothers a day counting on nutting down that pussy throat. Ain't no way we gonna let you fuck that up by hitting the bitch in the mouth."

Sheeeiiitt, there it was again. This explosion of a torrent of adrenalin laced with testosterone at the idea of black guys protecting me like I was a weak female. I'd meant to keep my hands off my dick and realized as I sat there with my eyes closed and moaning out loud lost in my dreams that I was working my own junk so hard it was probably giving me dick abrasions. I really felt the need to cum but both Dante and Darnell, in their separate morning blow job appointments earlier in the day, had made me promise not to touch myself until after I serviced all the bruthas tonight. And just to keep me `cum-hungry' and my `head game on-point,' neither of them gave me any cum this morning and they both said they weren't gonna feed me again until tonight through the glory hole with the other dudes watching. Fuckin' agony. You ever been used to servicing hung black bruthas for days on end with two loads from each of them every day busted down your hungry throat only then to be denied the load? A load you worked for and had begun to consider it yours for the taking? I'm not sure Dante realized how effective the trick was; I saw him studying my reaction like it was even more effective than he'd meant it to be. But the intense distress of my not tasting his load on its way to my stomach made Dante warn me to be sure and follow his instructions ("NO beating off before you finish ALL the bruthas tonight, and nobody's nut down yo' throat neither til then. We need you hungry like a bitch who been denied loads she fuckin' needs," was his explanation. Wow... for a pussy who would never throw a punch, I can't believe how crazy enraged it made me to be denied a load I still had worked for (it's not like Dante didn't have me suck his dick, he just didn't let me swallow his nut. He coated my face with it and then wiped it off himself. I hated that and was still in distress when at Darnell's blow job he played me the same way. Fucked my face hard and rough and came close to nutting a few times, eventually having to use both hands to forcibly remove my head from burrowing into his junk. He thought my crazed approach was funny.

"Daayyum that muthafucka Dante sure as hell know some shit `bout working cocksuckers," he laughed, amused by how undone I was at his pulling me off his dick before he came. "I wasn't really up for skipping a nut this morning," he added. "But that shit crazy effective, ain't it. You `bout to lose it up in here trying to get that juice outta my babymakers. Thass' fuckin' hot."

"C'monnnnn," I pleaded. "You KNOW I'm gonna be hungry for servicing your bruthas tonight, you ain't gotta worry `bout that... please, man, I need that cum in me..." Wow, I thought to myself as I heard my own pathetic moaning and pleading, who the fuck are you and what have you become? I didn't have to worry about that answer coming to me in the moment, because in the moment Darnell was standing there his dick wet and bouncing in front of me. All ten inches of uncut black man dick I was taking care of on the regular. Darnell once told me he didn't have to worry about keeping his dickhead clean no more `cuz I sucked it so often and that was way better than having to wash his junk a second time in a day.

"Aaaaiiggghtt then," Darnell proposed, "if you can make me nut in the next 60 seconds you can take it down yo' throat," I looked at him like I didn't understand... I mean, who, excluding cocksuckers who service premature ejaculators, can make a dude nut in 60 seconds? I was working out my arguments in my head about not being restricted to 60 seconds when Darnell smacked me hard enough to jerk my head to the side. "Tick-tock, tick-tock, bitch. You want this nut or not?" he asked.

I jumped onto his hard dick and went balls deep, pressing so hard it pushed him backwards. I started grinding his dick around balls deep and alternating swallow motions up and down his dick, never retreating from the depth I was working.

"Mmmm hmm," said Darnell, "thass right. Mmm hmm. Now thass a bitch who wants some nut," he observed, once again dealing with me in the third person as an object with a job to do.

This was infuriating. Part of what made me mad was the conflict of being denied what I wanted and the juxtaposition that I would never dare risk complaining or objecting or resisting for fear of having them take their dicks away from me. I might have been still working on embracing being a whore in my head and my self-esteem, but the literal evidence couldn't be denied. Shameless, cum-hungry black dick addict falling in love with black men over and over again. And finding it all glorious.

Darnell obviously still didn't give a shit about rescuing me by letting me have his load. The next thing I heard him say was "45 seconds, bitch," and I whimpered in pain and frustration. Hell, I knew Darnell's dick and what the minute before busting his nut looked like. He liked to grab my head hard and drive rough, hardly pulling out at all, making short staccato jabs pushing down my throat until he creamed loudly, grunts and intense pressure keeping me held down while his dick emptied into me. After he nutted he liked to keep the pressure holding me down for a while too, he said it was to make sure that I "didn't miss a fuckin' drop," and to give his dick some "soak time."

"Thirty seconds, bitch, you better step up yo' ho' game, faggot," Darnell taunted, "it's right there gurl, all you gots to do is take it," and I could tell he was fuckin' with me. He pulled back a bit from me with a short step and I whined and jumped deeper onto him to recapture the dick as deep as it would go. He seemed to like that, and I felt his hands on my head. Omigod, I thought to myself, he IS going to feed me. I went hard at his dick, feeling the depth of my throat hurt from how hard I was mashing his dickhead against the velvet of my deep throat. I created a suck pattern he'd not known before, almost too much for a dick without hurting it, but, hell, I was crazed.

And Darnell seemed to like it. Now he had both hands on my head and while he wasn't pumping my throat I knew what the tension in his hands clamping my head was like before he nutted and I really began to believe I was gonna get his cum. I was so excited and relieved and grateful all at once.

When he announced "15 seconds," his voice was different, with a catch in it. I was encouraged by that, working his dick hard, wrecking my throat with the hunger of feeling his balls elevate and shoot cum into my desperately needy throat. He started talking shit, too, which I took as a good sign.

"Mmm hmmm. Thass a good bitch, yeah, try and make me cum baby. Them balls ready to feed you gurl, you juss gotta make `em pop.. yeah...yeah...uh huh...Shit, I like you working so hard for my nut..."

I started gulping hard on Darnell's dick, fighting for that thick snotty liquid that was beginning to run most of my choices and a lot of my free time. I could feel it coming, feel him getting there, and I was gloriously spinning my tongue just outside my bottom lip on his scrotum imagining maybe a new sensation would put him over the edge. I thought it was working and I readied myself for the awesome wonder of a dick tube pulsing along my tongue, the first clue a cocksucker has from a dick that it's shooting all its load into you. I just knew the prize was mine, and I really fuckin' needed it.

I was not prepared for what Darnell did next.

"Nope bitch! You didn't make it," Darnell announced, simultaneously pulling my head back using clumps of hair, which hurt, and stepping back effectively taking away from me the dick I was loving. "Almost, though," he offered, as if it were some sort of consolation.

I couldn't believe he meant it. Darnell was the most predictable about how he liked his dick sucked, and I know he really hated not cumming from a blow job that got started and didn't finish. It's one of the reasons he was originally willing to commit to a cocksucker on the side; he said a faggot cocksucker always finishes the job and females don't. He had bitched that females felt like any effort in the right direction was enough and that any man who got anything close to a blow job ought to make him grateful for the little shit she had done. He complained that for him a little ball tickling or little kisses on his dickhead were just not going to cut it. He had really been quite vocal on the subject, and in this moment I took comfort in that hatred of a blow job not completed.

But he did fuckin' mean it. I was apoplectic. He stood there a few feet away from me on my knees, frustration and desperation on my face, my mouth open still. He started stroking slowly up and down the slick 10 inches of his manhood, and then spoke.

"Yo', bitch, I likes you like this. On yo' knees, mad and crazy hungry for my nut. Thass good, real good in fact..." Darnell spoke, though seemed to drift off a little bit after his last utterance about how it was `real good in fact.' But he was only off daydreaming a few seconds before he continued. "I'm gonna let you have this cum, baby, but you ain't gonna get to swallow it. I'm gonna get ready to bust then you gonna crawl over here and get yo' pretty face painted with it. I wanna see that, my cum dripping offa yo' pretty face. Keep them lips closed, though bitch, you ain't gonna get to swallow any of it."

"Nooooooo," I cried out, too far gone to be embarrassed by how whiny and childish it came out. "Please please please don't do that. I'm gonna suck dick really good tonight, none of the bruthas will be unhappy with their blow jobs, I promise."

"Hell yeah, I know dat's true," Darnell said evenly, his slow stroke continuing while he studied me. I realized he'd never experienced me resist anything or complain or whine about anything. I'd have been scared to realize I'd done that except his reaction wasn't negative, it was more measured and maybe a bit surprised. I was messing with the idea that I was just a convenient cocksucker hole completely available for a brutha's pleasure and nothing else mattered, to becoming someone asking for something of my own in the equation. He seemed to consider what I'd said and then added "but this way we know for fuckin' sure you gonna be hungry like a muthafucka for all five dicks tonight. If you gonna be put up as the in-house frat cocksucker, you gotta be able to service all kinds of dicks in a row without cheating none of the bruthas on yo' skills. Whether he first in line or fifteenth in line, a brutha needs to know he's getting A-game service. Kappas like black gods, muthafucka, they always get the best."

"I know, I'll be awesome and bring my A-game, I promise. Just PLEASE don't bust your nut on my face, I wanna swallow it," I pleaded, surprised what I wanted was being considered at all.

"Whass so special `bout my nut?" Darnell wanted to know, stopping his slow strokes and standing there looking incredible with his pants and drawers bunched around his ankles and that awesome dick sticking straight out.

Well, actually, it was any nut that I would want down my throat rather than in my face. I had what was becoming a well-fed fever for loads popping down my throat, as well as a completely separate but pertinent distaste for guys shooting their cum on my face. I didn't like it. But I quickly picked up on what appeared to be Darnell's serious considering of what I was trying to get. It wasn't that his load was uniquely special, but it looked like that was how he wanted to think about it. I had a brain flash.

"'Cuz ever since we met you been letting me have every drop of every nut I sucked outta you, it ALL been going down my throat. I love it. I love the way you drain it and make sure I get every drop. I don't want to break that record, I always want to be sure I've drained all your nut outta your balls. I don't want to see it get wasted dripping on my face and wiped away later," I countered, feeling hopeful.

He was quiet a second, though his eyes were boring into me and I wished I knew what he was thinking. Something was now different between us, and I think it was that I became a little less object and a little more person behind all this. He broke the stare and said, "Yeah, you got a point there. We ain't never wasted none of my baby juice, it all gone down into your belly like it oughta." He'd been standing there a few feet in front of me, towering over me on my knees and affecting a standing pose with his arms crossed across his chest and his dick sticking straight out. I loved looking at him this way.

He uncrossed his arms and I took that to mean he'd made a decision. He pushed his hard dick down with one hand and we both watched it bounce back up. It was hot to me how much Darnell loved and respected his dick.

"Aaaaiighht, I'll tell you what," he began, "I ain't gonna bust this nut on yo' face, but you ain't gettin' it down yo' throat neither. You can get this nut tonight and that way it will still go down yo' throat where it belong, plus you still gonna be jonesin' bad for a fix of black man ball juice for later." He laughed a little with an afterthought. "Shit," he said, "it's gonna be a treat for you too to get almost a whole 24-hour backlog of nut since there ain't been any backlog of juice more than 10 or 12 hours since you first latched onto my dick. Think of that while you gotta wait."

Fuck, that didn't seem any recompense to me at all in the moment. Success to me in the moment was only getting his load now. And again later. But I felt like I'd stretched my resistance as far as I dare, and just resigned myself to what was.

Darnell saw the resignation in my face and my composure. "But it ain't like you done, cocksucker," he said, once again using his hand to flip his hard dick up and down a couple more times. "You got this shit stirred up, and now you got to make it go down."

OK, I thought to myself, how the fuck am I gonna do that if he's not going to cum. He didn't leave me in the dark long.

"Yo', you know you gotta give complete service to any of us anytime we ask, right?" I nodded my head to the question though I wasn't sure what he was talking about, nor remembered out loud agreeing to it.

"Then you need to find yourself something big enough for my junk to fit into, and some fuckin' cold water. You cain't make it go down by sucking me off so you gonna have to get it go down somehow else. I ain't leaving here with 10" of hard dick showin'," came his instructions.

Buoyed by a task and maybe as well by clarity that I would be near his awesome dick again, I sprang up and began to look around for something in the janitor's closet that would work. I came upon what looked like an old plastic bleach bottle that had been carved so that it could serve as a decanter with the plastic handle still attached. That would work. I showed it to him and he nodded, back to slowly touching his own junk, lightly using just his fingers up and down his rod. I didn't think that was going to help the goal of losing his erection, but I think a part of me was still hoping he'd reverse his position and hold me down rough while pounding out his cum into my throat, even more aggressively than usual since that would mean I'd have messed up his plan.

I tried the faucet inside the janitor's closet but neither handle produced cold water. I told Darnell I'd get some in the restroom sinks just outside the door, and he just said one thing. "Hurry that shit up, bitch." I did. Incredible how hot it made me to be told what to do.

When I got to the sink and turned the cold water on, I was surprised to see someone in my peripheral vision off to my left standing at a urinal. Whore that I am, I took in that he was black and young enough he was probably a student. He had a backpack on but oddly his jeans and drawers were mid-thigh. And he was looking right at me.

Strangely enough I was intimidated and didn't use more than portions of my side vision, angling a few times in his direction and the turn on in me building. Was he playin' with his dick just standin' there? My container now filled with cold water, I had no reason to stay and Darnell was waiting on me. I felt sure he was paying attention to me and to the fact I was sneaking peeks, so I simply stood straight and turned to face him.

I was right about him playing with his dick, and about paying attention to me.

"Wassup?" he asked smiling. "You see sumthin' you like over here?" he wanted to know, brazenly jiggling a rubbery dick long enough to hang all the way over the hand that was holding it from underneath. He turned sideways to the urinal and put both hands on his hips, letting his dick hang free and facing me, really friendly and smiling. "You one of them white boys who love suckin' big black nigga dicks?" he wanted to know, standing there with his pride hanging out, knowing I guessed, what that look on my face meant and the fact I didn't run away.

"I am," I said, more steadily and comfortably than I would have been able to say two weeks ago.

"So, wassup, white boy? How come you ain't over here suckin' my dick right fuckin' now"? he wanted to know.

"I can't right now," I said. "I got something to do but I can come back in just a few minutes."

"Thass bullshit, fucker. The dick is here, you're here, I ain't waiting around. I need to bust this nut and roll. Whatever you got goin' on can wait."

"I really can't plus it's just going to be like 10 minutes," I said, hoping my blind guessing at what Darnell would need would turn out to be right.

"Naw, I ain't down wid dat," said the dude, pulling up his pants and drawers in one motion, hiding from me the object of my desire. "I ain't standin' here wid my dick out waitin' for your cocksucking ass to roll back through. Plus how I know what or who you gonna bring back with you. Naw, I ain't down with that." I didn't know it yet, but the fact that Dixson wasn't a student made him extra paranoid about being on campus.

"I promise, it won't be more than ten minutes," I quickly asserted, noting how easily I made shit up about how long it would take just for the chance of another dick. Well, shit, I reasoned in my head. I'm not the one who made me crazy to get some nut. "And," I added, "you don't have to stand there with that awesome dick just hanging out til I come back. You can hang out in the second stall and in privacy and I'll come back and suck you off in there. Just ten minutes man, and I swear the head is good."

It was obvious he was considering it. "Awesome dick huh? The head is good, huh? Yeah, you a for real fag. Far as head being good, my shit is big so you sure you can handle that shit right?" His fingers were inside his draws while I swore I could suck a good dick, touching something and digging around with some kind of purpose. "Aaaight, I'll tell you what," he said, "I'll wait those ten minutes but you gotta come over and get my dick wet `fo you leave this room."

I moved quickly to in front of him and dropped to my knees.

"Yeah, thass right. Dayum, you must be a dick hungry bitch," he smiled at me. "And this shit better be good `cuz I had my dick sucked by EXPERTS, and I ain't down with no bullshit head. You suck my dick you betta do it RIGHT."

I nodded again, widening my blue eyes from below looking up at him. I'd convinced myself black men looking into my blue eyes from above was something that worked in my favor.

"Here, smell this," he commanded, pulling his fingers out of his pants and mashing them up against my nose and moustache. "Thass ball sweat and the smell of a good black man you getting' there baby."

The smell was intoxicating, and I sniffed deeply and pressed my face into his hand, rubbing my head back and forth the offered fingers, breathing loudly and deep and brushing my lips against his fingers.

"You like that smell, don't you bitch?" he asked, already aware of the answer. "Yeah, you seem like one of them nasty fags that'll do anything a brutha tells `em. Hellyeah, I like that shit."

I moaned low and expanded the movements of my head in a way that put his hand behind my head and pressed my face into his crotch, inhaling deeply at the pubic hair patch, the only thing accessible once he pulled his pants up.

"Yep, it looks like I found me a freaky cocksucker fag, and I likes that shit. Put that dick in yo' mouf', ho" he ordered, shoving his pants down to mid-thigh and exposing a plumping black dick, growing with approval at how I'd done so far. I dipped my head to get the dickhead at mouth level and swallowed the whole thing deep.

"Yeah, balls deep, no bullshit. You know better than to waste a nigga's time. That shit feels good," he narrated. But he was not happy when I backed up off of it and stood, all in one motion.

"Honest, I got to go deal with something and I will be right back," I said, hurriedly crossing to the sink, dumping the water and running fresh I thought would be colder than what I'd run before.

Having backed off his dick with no warning left him standing there with his dick wet and hanging, his hands at his side and a look of frustration on his face. "Muthafucka," he breathed out, not really angry but frustrated, "you really gonna leave a brutha hangin' like this and take off?"

"Believe me, I got no choice," I reaffirmed. Actually, neither of us wanted me to leave. I was only headed back to cool down Darnell's shit and face more despair over not getting his load. "I'll be right back, maybe less than 10 minutes," I offered over one shoulder as I headed for the door.

He was out of sight and I was almost out the door when I heard him say "If you gotta you gotta, but I'll tell you what. This is the last muthafuckin' time you start on my dick and take off before I bust my nut."

"Deal!" I shouted, pulling the door open. He said something again, and I hesitated in the door frame wanting to hear it. What he said was like manna to my ears, solving my immediate problems and pivoting my anxious and edgy mood.

"You know what else, faggot? My girl on the rag so I ain't been able to bust a nut for six muthafuckin' days, and I always shoot big anyway so you better be fuckin' ready for a buttload of hot sloppy nigga nut cummin' down yo' nasty throat."

My heart leapt and I began to think that somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something good. Darnell's dick was mostly down by the time I got to him, so he made me hold his balls in my mouth for a couple minutes while he dried the cold water off his dick using my hair. He promised me I'd get all the nut I needed, and soon.

I agreed with him, smiling about shit about which he was unaware, and hurried into the bathroom to try and claim another dick for regular feeding. That was the thing about risking passion; it was always volatile, it was always powerful.

"'Bout fuckin' time," Dixon announced, opening the stall door to me with his shirt hitched up behind his neck and his pants and drawers around his ankles. He put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me down. "Take yo' muthafuckin' time, too, bitch. I want this to last a while..."

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