Kappa Kappa Cocksucker

Chapter 16: Keep the Bitch Hungry, Man

Dixon did all that he promised to Dante that he'd do to me, talking smack the whole time and twice grabbing my head and pumping hard at my throat while bent over my head. He was using his elbow on the back of my head as a way to control and pull my head forward while his hips ground heavily and fast deep into my throat. And the mofo teased me baaad. He'd kept saying things like "Oh, shit, muthafucka... you gonna make this nigga buss' you keep that shit up... Uh huh..uh huh...OH FUCK! Uh huh... yeah, work for it `ho. Make me buss another nut deep down that pussy throat... yeah, mofo. Thass' fuckin' good, baby, you doin' GOOD AS SHIT!....You `bout to get fed... fuckin' fed good too, I got nut left even after you swallowed six weeks of my muthafuckin' babies."

Hell, I ought to have known what the fuck was going on, I'd heard the same deal explained to Dixon by Dante about how he wanted his cocksucker revved up for later, along with the veiled threat that if he didn't do what Dante said that Dixon wouldn't be given unfettered access to the best cocksucker Dixon had ever met. Dixon, aware that he'd already messed up Dante's plans by feeding the cocksucker six days' worth of good Black Man nut when he wasn't supposed to, was damn sure not getting on Dante's bad side. Hell, the bitch had a golden throat that handled Dixon's big dick like a velvet glove pussy heated up and coated with butter. Dixon knew how much trouble it was to find a good cocksucker for on the side action and he was already without one. His last little dickhungry bitch graduated last spring and he needed a new one. He'd had pussy all summer but no head, and he was sure as shit missing it. Hell, he knew how to make a cumhungry fag work for it. He grinned at himself at how cool this was all working out, and went back to telling the faggot how good he was doing and making him believe he was probably gonna get the nut anyway.

Like I said, I ought to have known better, but I tell you now that I shoved my throat at him, on him, gulped and pressed my tongue hard along his dick, trying out different places, flicking and swirling and dancing on it. I lapped and teased all over his dickhead, I used intense pressure and gentle slow lingering swipes, and he fucking let me know how appreciative he was about my efforts. He made me think I was, in fact, going to make him cum even though he didn't want to. "Holy shit, pussy lips. You got some muthafuckin' skills. You doin' my shit RIGHT, you hear me bitch... you doin' GOOD, god damn it. How the fuck a brutha `spose to keep his nut down when a pretty little cumhungry white boy suckin' his dick like a muthafuckin' CHAMPION? Hell, you keep that up and Dante just gonna have to understand." He finished talking and concentrated on his hand moving around on my head, alternating pressure and controlling how long I stayed on the downstrokes. He liked it when he held me down for as long as he figured I could take it without breathing and let go only to discover I didn't move even a millimeter off holding him balls deep. He did a thing that I'd never had done before and I fuckin' loved it. He used his fingernails deep on my scalp and drug them hard along the contours of my head. It was an awesome feeling, plus he was doing it while he was telling me what an excellent cocksuckin' bitch I was and how he was gonna be using my throat on the regular. All that shit turns me on, really turns me on, and I was sure unable to control my moans and whimpers chasing the juice to be found in his nuts. My pace was scattered and frenetic, and he was telling me how hot it was that I wanted his load so bad. He was saying that I might get it when—unbeknown to me, I was forehead-crushed into his pubes and unable to see his expression—he seemed to realize something. "You know what pussy? I just thought of sumthin'. I'm gonna hook you up with my boss man. Dude a cool brutha who like to get his freak on. He and I done all kinda nasty shit together, fuckin' a bitch in two different holes at the same time, fuckin' ho's next to one another in the alley after the bar closed, arranging cocksuckin' contests for white girls. That muthafucka PACKIN' and I fuckin' KNOW he ain't neva been deepthroated. He bitchin' `bout it all the damn time, and I seen him personally try to make some bitches take it." I couldn't help myself, I suppose there weren't any real ways in which I was trying to, but when he said he was going to recommend me as a cocksucker to his boss, I let out a deep guttural kind of moan and quick grabbed my hard dick, pressing hard on it trying to keep from nuttin' right there in my fuckin' pants just from what he said.

My nearly nutting had an effect on him, too. He quick grabbed a clump of hair and fast-pulled me off of his meat, whistlin' low while he did it. His fat hot dick had my slobber on it and the dick was pulsing in tiny little ups and downs in concert with his heartbeat. The dickhead was shiny and plump and looked fucking delicious. I tried to get it back in my mouth.

"Naw, bitch, you `bout to make me nut and you can't have none," he said, using his grip on my hair to pull me back when I tried to recapture his cock with my mouth. "But I tell you what. Yo' fuckin' head game is sure the fuck on point. I got to give you your props on that. I think you may be the best cocksucker ole' Big Johnson and I ever cum across." I'd later learned that Johnson was his last name and his nickname for his dick was `Big Johnson.' The compliment helped, but I was still on my knees panting for his dick, hungry for his load, and about to scream with frustration at being held off it.

"Fuck, we better stop," he said. "I'm `bout to bust one and I ain't fuckin' up my access to them pussylips in the future. Yo' ass gotta arrive hungry for them five brutha's nuts up at the frat house." He pushed his fat hard dick shiny with my adoration sideways across his left hip and yanked up his tighty whities and jeans, taking away from me the thing I most wanted in the world... in this moment in the world anyway.

My `ho side well established and pretending anything else useless, I grunted something that came out as a cross between a wail and a whine, and then a long drawn out recognizable word, which was me saying "Nooooooooo..."

"Fuck man, I will tell you this, though," Dixon said, busy zipping and trying to force his hard dick into compliance inside his tight jeans and his underwear, which were now soaking up my spit from his dick. "You a RIGHTEOUS cocksucker, man. My shit ain't NEVA been treated so good. Not ever." He kept his bright eyes boring into mine, and then he started a warm smile while reaching out a hand to my head. He spread his fingers and pushed them through my hair a couple times. "You know, you a for-real `ho and all that and that's how you gonna be treated anytime my dick is out, but I gotta tell you thanks too man. It's a good day when a brutha finds a cocksucker so good at it and he know he can trust the bitch to keep all the shit on the down low," he said. "Right in my own fuckin' back yard, too." He had never stopped running his hand through my hair, but the next move surprised the shit out of me. He leaned down and kissed his soft, beautiful pink fat lips against the middle of my forehead. "Thank you man. We gonna be enjoyin' this shit for a while."

I was so emotionally rocked with all the back and forth of the last several hours, I felt like I could burst at any moment. Burst my nut from being so fuckin' turned on, hard for hours with my sensitive dickhead rubbing against my cotton tighty whities; burst out in tears from working so hard to get nut I wasn't going to be given, only teased that I might get it if I worked hard enough; burst out in dance, vibrating at snaring a new dick who was going to put me on my knees in front of his boss, a guy hung so big nobody had ever deepthroated him. I really was close to cumming.

Dixon never stopped running his fingers through my hair, which I think was his kind way of trying to calm me. Quite by accident I was discovering the formula for turning me out. Rough, nasty, verbal sex in which I was objectified and valued for my talents only, followed by tenderness and appreciation for how good I was sucking their dicks. And the thing that tipped me into near cumming fits was hearing that one of the guys I was servicing was going to bring me a buddy of his to get sucked off too. For whatever reason, that exploded the hormones and the adrenalin in my body simultaneously. I had an instinct to hide it out of fear of someone knowing something about me that could make me lose all inhibitions or sense.

"Yeah, you better now, ain't you baby?" asked Dixon, a smooth coo in his voice. I was, and said as much.

"But couldn't I please get on your dick again," I asked, all big watery blue eyes staring up at the black man who could end my torture by pulling out his dick, or cement it by making me wait for dick.

"I ain't gonna lie," he said, looking down at me. "That beggin' shit is kinda hot, that looks good on a white boy on his knees in front of me. But that cain't happen. I ain't lighting up Big Johnson once again just to have to put his away without busting. `Sides, it's almost time for Dante to come back."

Hell, don't tell me my begging is hot and tempting and figure that's not going to get used. "Pllleeeaaaaassssseee," I tried, "I love your dick sooo much; pretty please..."

"Yo' man, you best quit that shit before a nigga gets sprung," he laughed. "But I'll tell you what. We'll compromise. You can mess with my dick while it's in my drawers, but you cain't take it out. You got me? You try taking it out and I'm gonna have to smack you."

Actually my first thought was well, how bad could a smack be, but I realized as well that dude was serious about not going against Dante's explicit instructions to light me up but not let me have any more of his cum. I decided to take what I could get and without complaint. Without out loud complaint, anyway.

He let go of my head for a minute and used his hands to pop the 501 jeans buttons and pull them open to a v-shape with his dickprint still fat against his white drawers. I jumped my face into it, and it pushed him back a bit. As he recovered his position, he put his hand back in place playing with my hair while I felt the plumping of his dicktube filling back up with blood. I rubbed my lips and forehead back and forth the tube, the parts I could reach, and stopped and looked up into his face, my eyes hungry and tongue flat against his ball sack inside his underwear, lifting them up and pressing against them with my nose bridge.

He knew what I wanted. "Naw, baby, thass' all you git," he smiled at me. "Shit, `ho, you `bout to sink that pussythroat deep onto five hung niggas in the basement of a frat house. You still wanna get Big Johnson spittin' in yo' throat? How cum? How cum all them bruthas ain't gonna be enough for you?" he asked.

Hell, I know fishing for a compliment when I hear it.

"'Cuz your dick is awesssome. It's big and fat and beautiful. And you tell me how you want your dick sucked, so that way I know I am doing it right," that last part turning him on because he was loving a cocksucker who was both skilled and devoted to sucking his dick exactly the way he told him to suck it. None of his females, including his current girlfriend, would put up with him talking like that while he got his dick sucked maybe once a fuckin' year, like New Years Eve or his birthday. He'd never realized how much he missed being able to do that.

"Is that right," he grinned slowly, which I caught because I'd pulled away to look at his face while we talked about how cum I loved sucking his dick.

"Yeah, man, LOVE yo' dick. And your cum... hell even your pre-cum, just makes me hungry for more. It's like fuckin' addictive nut."

He liked that, I could tell, watching his grin widen. "Well, alright then. I can dig it. I sure as fuck hope them college bruthas don't wear you out though."

Such a thing had never occurred to me as possible.

Something else occurred to him, and he reached back down to tilt my head so that my eyes were looking into his eyes. "Yo' ass know that you can't suck a black man's dick like that and then keep him from it anytime he want it, right? This ain't a one-time thing. Ain't no way you gonna tease my shit and not suck it anytime I want, right?"

"Naw, man," I promised. And then quickly added "You're already like one of my favorite dicks. Ain't no way I won't hit my knees any and every fuckin' time you tell me to." Damn... just saying that out loud turned me to fuck on.

"Aaaiight then, we cool," he said, pulling my face into his crotch again. I used the moment to sniff deep and long, feeling a rush from the smell of his junk coursing all through my body. "Yeah, gurrrl, git you a good long sniff," he said, lowering the waistband of his drawers to where it was just below the intersection of his fat prod and his pelvis. I pressed my nose hard against the base of his dick and dreamed of more. That's where I was when Dante busted into the bathroom.

Once again, he wanted to know "Hey, they any Black Man's Pussymouth up in here?"

I felt raw and naked, oddly challenged by this given all the dick-groveling I'd been doing unabashedly. I was going to say "Yes, Sir," which seemed right. But I didn't. At the last minute I said, "Hell Yeah, I'm one of those and I could chew gravel just to get me a load from a black man," I sang out.

That cracked them both up, and I felt pretty great about making them laugh. And of course, I got to shout out loud that I sucked cock, black men's cocks specifically, and that pretty much I would do anything to be the receptacle in which they dumped their loads. That's a lot of growth for like 2-3 weeks of college after a childhood, adolescence and young adulthood hiding all that stuff from myself and everyone.

Dante got to the door, still laughing. Dixon had already reached over and opened the door while he leaned against one wall of the stall with me squishing my face into Dixon's crotch, trying to memorize the smells and working hard to fight the urge to attack with my tongue what little of his dick showed in his underwear scooted down onto his hog of a dick.

"Yeah, man, bitch sounds and looks ready, my man," Dante said. "Looks like you done real good taking this bitch out for a ride."

I couldn't see it, but Dixon was grinning and especially happy to have Dante feel good about how he used the cocksucker. Dixon was a man with pussy at home, but he was also a dude pretty experienced with how awesome a DL cocksucker on the side could improve a brutha's life. And he'd been without one for a few months now.

"Thass' right, my brutha," Dixon replied. They smacked hands above me somewhere and Dixon added "You know I gots you, man. Happy to help you train up a good cocksuckin' bitch."

"You feed this bitch any nut?" Dante checked.

"Naw, man, but I sure as fuck wanted to. Bitch GOT SKILLS, man," came Dixon's reply.

"I heard that, and I commiserate man. Bitch been snaring nut outta my dick `fo I was really ready to bust ever since I first plugged that face pussy," said Dante.

"Plus, you know man, you was pretty fuckin' clear `bout not feeding the bitch any nut, and since I know you gonna put me in the rotation on the regular I did not want to fuck that up," Dixon said. It was important to him that got clearly said. "Thass' right ain't it? You got my back on this right? You gonna let me hit that golden throat on the regular, yeah?"

"Thass' right, my brutha, I gots you. We got it like that, watchin' each other's backs," Dante responded, fully aware of how much valuable information he got from Dixon about which `ho's to mess with at the bar where Dixon worked as a bartender, and which ones to avoid. Still, for the first time he realized he was going to have to figure out some policy on non-Kappa bruthas getting to use the dude he was training to be a personal cocksucker for the whole house. He knew this much; if the pretty little white boy wanted to keep sucking black men's dicks, he was going to have to give up sucking any white dudes. He knew the guys at the house would love that...if they were to ever know the for reals about the glory hole situation...and he was even more sure the white boy would not resist it at all.

"Aaaaaiiigghht, baby, time to make you a star," said Dante as he tapped me on the back of the head, telling me it was time to go.

Dixon felt letdown, but showed nothing but grinning cooperation. He did have an idea, and he decided to risk floating it. "What time this bitch gonna finish up tonight at the frat house?"

Dante's laugh blurted out a question; "Wassup, man," he smiled through the query, "Bitch got your balls all stirred up and you wanna bust that nut she was workin' on?"

"You feelin' me, my brutha," confirmed Dixon. "Bar gonna close up at 2, we run everybody out too so I got the place to ourselves after that. Bring that `ho by and we see how good the cocksucker suck dick after five African Kings use that throat for a nutdumping punching bag."

Dante thought of the ongoing reconnaissance he'd get about females at the club, which Dante considered especially valuable information, and he imagined four years of free drinks and benefits at the most happening bar close to campus.

"We'll see man," explained Dante. "This a test run for the `ho so who knows how much dick she can handle. `Specially black dick and you know that shit don't just fit anywhere. Five in a row, man. And I know one of those fuckers definitely gonna punch fuck the bitch's face and prolly insist on a couple nuts, too."

"Shit. OK, cool. But hit me up by 1 am if that shit gonna work out. SOMEBODY gonna be on the winning end of the Big Johnson lotto tonight and they gonna feel my nut in some hole or other, that's for fuckin' sure," said Dixon.

Dante pulled me up off the floor and left his hand on me as he pulled me up the floor and then steered me toward our next destination. Dixon stopped us just as we were leaving the stall when he reached out a hand and cupped my chin, pretty aggressively. He stared me directly in the eyes and he said "We gonna see each other again, soon, baby. You got that? SOON."

I nodded soulfully, aware that despite his rough demeanor and hard grip in front of Dante that his other hand was on my backside, running it over and then hefting the cheek closest to him and letting it pop back into place. I felt a shudder which both men noticed.

"You know what they'd call this `ho in the big house?" Dixon mused to Dante.

"Naw, what?" Dante asked, skimming over the notion that Dixon knew anything about prison as lightly as possible, unsure what he thought about it.

"Goldmine pussy," answered Dixon.

My dick started leaking again and Dante said "I ain't tryin' to sell it, just get it trained to handle the bruthas at Kappa Kappa on call. To suck all our dicks without ever turning a brutha down. Thass' all I want."

"Coo," said Dixon. "Just sayin'."

Dante silently nodded and seemed lost in thought. We exited the men's room and he dropped his hand from my shoulder. He turned to talk to me.

"You know I'm counting on you to make me proud tonight, right?"

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