Kappa Kappa Cocksucker

...by NoGagRflks@aol.com

Chapter 5: Do yo' job!

Holy shit. Three days into my first week of college—where I was going to change everything about myself, escape the fag rumors that beleaguered me back in my small hometown and be careful to stay hidden—and I was digesting three to six loads a day from three different black men, straight black men who treated me like a whore...well, mostly. I was an `on-call' cocksucker for them, being where I was told to be, doing what I was told to do, called demeaning names, and even getting pimped out for favors by the dude who started it all. And the result of all that? My dick was hard nearly around the clock. Everything about me was changed. The way I breathed was different; deeper somehow, and the smells and tastes of everything became more pungent; especially the smells and tastes of black men which seemed to have a hypnotic kind of resonance. I felt a crazed kind of hunger for the juice in their balls...dreamed about it, loved it, wanted to earn it, wanted what was in front of me and more as soon as possible. And I kept grinning a lot while simultaneously unable to explain whatever-the-fuck-was-making-me-so-fuckin'-goofy-happy. It began to bug my friends enough that I had to learn to contain it. But when I wasn't in the act of sucking a black man's dick I was dreaming about it. Plotting to please in every way that occurred to me, anxious to keep these men and their dicks happy with my cocksucking skills. I had no reason to worry but some part of all my fantasizing eventually included panic if I should ever lose access to their dicks.

A writer friend of mine once proposed that there was something in a black man's nut that calmed horny white boy cocksuckers. That we grew to need it once on it. Something chemical that both gave the white boy a momentary reprieve and also continually ignited the need for more. Interviewed then and there I suspect I would have agreed. And then asked him if I could suck his dick.

I really didn't recognize myself, but while I kept suspecting, even expecting, that a moralistic self-loathing was going to envelop me any minute now, I couldn't even hang on to the thought of that very long before the arousal would supersede. There would be a memory of the taste of the dried sweat on Darnell's post workout balls, or of the clamp of Dante's hands on my head and the pops of his dicktube along the top of my tongue while he groaned and folded over into me and held me there draining out all his nut, or of Mr. J's vocals and grunts and shouts of mixed joy and shock while he bottomed out in my throat. I think it was really by the fourth day—a day in which I was expected to service Dante and Darnell separately in the morning and then together in the afternoon, as well as service Mr. J. who was coming into work a half hour early to bust a nut—it was day 4 when I abandoned all need to resist what was happening to me. I decided I was fuckin' lucky and went with it. My grades didn't crash, I didn't lose my school job, I didn't look for or find new ways to hate myself for my sexuality; frankly everything in my life was better. And my workouts in the gym? Buttloads more men to ogle and in whose smells and sights and sounds I could revel, to say nothing of what that sudden and sustained high-protein diet of Mother Africa cum was doing for my muscles. The only problem was now that Dante and Darnell and Mr. J. had lit me up for needing black dick was that there didn't seem to be any limit to how many I wanted. And without knowing it, or certainly without agreeing to it except by compliance, it appeared as if my throat was Dante's to run. I decided to worry about that later.

I was beginning to like my time with Dante alone best of all. He really actually very much appreciated how much I loved to suck his dick. Talking smack and being physically and verbally aggressive seemed to be just an organic stirring of turn-ons between us, and really, just another thing of Dante's my inexperienced ass was happy to follow. I think Darnell and Mr. J. actually did think of me in the degrading ways that went with what they said, but even they behaved differently with me alone than they did when I serviced them as a group. They both seemed to need to front a kind of hyper-masculinity / fags are a subservient and unrespectable lot useful only as tools for busting a nut. I know Mr. J. definitely was more at ease when I serviced him along with either or both Dante or Darnell. But alone, both Mr. J. and Darnell said "thank you," after they busted and just before we parted, but neither of them ever said it when they weren't alone with me. Dante, my first straight man crush, had no such problem rewarding me with thanks and tenderness. Whether he plugged into an existing exhilaration for being a bottom whose joys were inflated by praise, or whether he established it, it was me and he fed that part of my soul nearly as much as he fed my tonsils.

By the morning of the fifth day, Darnell was getting more comfortable ordering me around without Dante to fan his bravado. The first evidence of that was my dorm room phone ringing at 6:45 am, unconscionably early, and when my roommate answered whoever it was hung up. We both cursed at the stranger and my roommate padded off to the bathroom. Seconds later the phone rang again and this time I answered it. "Yo' BITCH! You need to answer that damn phone whenever it rings, bitch. I ain't interested in talkin' to yo' fag roommate," was how Darnell started the conversation.

"How am I supposed to know who's calling before picking up the phone?" I countered. I was due to suck him off at 7:30 am in our spot, which was close to his 8 am class. I had a sinking feeling he was going to cancel and I was already jonesin' not to miss any doses of black man nut.

"Ain't my problem, bitch. What's yo' damn job?" he replied.

"To suck your dick," I answered.

"Naw, bitch. To suck my dick ANYTIME I TELL YO' ASS TO SUCK IT!" he corrected me. "My shit is hard and I need some head. Be there in half an hour," and he hung up. I hate being hung up on, and for the first time since any of this went down I got a bit irritated. It didn't last... it got replaced by that sense of one's nostrils opening wider with the scent and feel of erotic pendings, the way the pulse quickens and I began to hunger for the musty flavors covering his dick head. I wondered if I was going to taste his dick fresh from a shower, or whether he was beginning to test my resolve to take care of his dick right. He'd been hinting I better never resist his dick `cuz it was uncut. Apparently the premise was that I was fuckin' lucky to be getting to suck his dick at all so I would take it as is whenever he told me to take it. He said he made his former cocksucker lick pussy juice off it.

Leaving now wasn't particularly convenient. It meant I didn't have time to shower and clean up for the day and that I would have to find a way to double back later and use the showers. Of course that didn't change a thing—an early sign of the way one's sexual tastes and desires trump so many things. The way that going out of our way to bring pleasure starts the foreplay process long before one is face to face--- or, in my circumstance, face to dick.

He was there already when I got into the janitor's closet. He was standing at the back of the room and didn't really seem to look up from the porn magazine in his hands. He started talking after he snapped his fingers and pointed to the ground in front of himself. "Today you gonna learn to clean up my dick real good after I grown some flavor for your pussy mouth," he began. "My ass woke up horny and I decided to skip my shower and have you spend the time sucking nut outta my dick instead. Plus when I'm horny that nut juice that leaks out get all up in my skin and cooks up real good for any cocksucker worth his salt."

Actually he was kind of scaring me. The only other dicks (before Mr. J.'s) I'd ever sucked that were uncut got put in front of my face right out of the shower. I actually was pretty sensitive to smells and as Darnell was making such a thing about it I was afraid it would be a turn off.

He left me kneeling there a couple minutes, ignoring any eye contact and really focused on one image in the porn magazine. After a minute or two I thought he expected me to get started so I reached up to start to pull down his fly. "Naw, bitch," he said quietly, "I'll let yo' ass know when you get to have the dick." One of his hands dropped to begin a gentle grasping and palming of his dick inside his pants, slow circles while he talked to himself about the image he was seeing. "Daaayumm that bitch's pussy pink. You should come up outta that page and slide yo' pretty ass up here onto my shit, that'll make your pussy snap." He broke his reverie with the glossy pages right after that to address me. "Yo', you know that even though your mouthpussy working out good, a brutha got to have some real pussy too. Female pussy. Jus' cuz' I ain't got no pussy beggin' me to fuck `em yet don't mean I ain't gonna get some. You know that right, fag?"

I don't think he was actually looking for a considered answer, but stupid still to the situation of being a cocksucker to straight men, I answered thoughtfully. "I've not really thought about it," I said, "but I figure you wanting female pussy is just as natural as me wanting to suck dick."

I think the error was the intrusion into his thoughts that my thoughts on the subject mattered.

"I don't care about all that shit, dude," he answered, closing the magazine and tossing it back over with the others. "I'm tellin' yo' bitch ass that at some point you gonna be suckin' pussy juice offa mah dick."

"OK," I responded. I suppose his supposition was that I never tasted pussy juice and I took a lesson from his reaction a moment ago to leave it alone and just waited for his next move. His next move was to grab a clump of hair on top of my head, painfully, and bring my head forward into his crotch while jutting his crotch forward. The effect was to smash my face, which he apparently liked, because he said "Thass right bitch. This is how I do so you best get used to it" and continue the grind and thrust shoves of his crotch into my face. The grinding around I'd come to learn was how he started his hard-on before a face fuck. "Darnell, man," I said, succeeding in pulling only a bit away out of his crotch before his grasp tightened even more painfully on the top of my head to refuse my retreat, "If your dick gets hard while it's in your drawers then all that flavor's gonna rub off and I won't get to taste it."

"Muthaaaafuckaaa," he said, caught off guard and releasing my head to free both hands to unbutton and unzip his jeans, "you gotta be the nastiest, most perfect cocksucking bitch a brutha ever put on his knees." Now I could look up and match the grin on his face and the sparkle in his eyes with the sound of delight in his voice. "Aaaaiiight, ho, do yo' thing," he directed while shoving his drawers up under his nuts so his open pants made a V shape, starring his dick and balls. His dick was plumping, but not yet in any danger of the skin pulling back just yet. That happened on him much closer to the point his dick got fully hard. That was a beautiful sight by the way, sort of a cocksucker's sunrise. I dove my nose into the left hand side of his dick base and inhaled, gently nudging my chin into his nuts and pressing the point of my tongue on his balls, flicking gently.

"It's all yours, baby gurrrl," he moaned. "We got an extra half hour and I'm gonna nut as many times as I want to..." he said, his voice trailing off. As an afterthought of reassurance, he added "And you gonna catch EVER drop of this fine black man cum, ain't you baby? You need that shit don't you baby?" I mumbled something that sounded like yes to each question, though I had nuts in my mouth for the first one and his dick base pressed up against my nostrils with his dick drooling on my forehead for the second.

"Make a brutha feel the love you got for this dick, baby...yeah, spoil a muthafucka with that sweet head now gurl. Mmm nnnhhh, you know what you doin'. Dante right, baby, you a star. OK, gurl, you want that flavor D man been cooking up for you you better get that throat open and them lips ready to kiss my dick head. Slowwwwww, baby... Do that shit slowwww, make a brutha feel your lips and tongue on my dickhead. Yeah. Mm hmm. You doin' right. Aiight, now slide that tongue up under that hot stinky skin there gurl. You gonna get your tasty reward up in there... Yeah... Yeah. Yeah. Thass right. Mmm hmmm. That feels good, cocksucker, gonna tell Dante how good you cleaned my dick for me." Fuck. Here I was tonguing the uncut dickhead of a black man I didn't even know five days ago who skipped his shower this morning to teach me about the flavors of his dick, and I was bone fuckin' hard in my pants and my head at the idea of being bragged about as a good cocksucker.

I spent what seemed like a lot of time on his dickhead alone, and I really badly wanted to go for the gold, to make him nut before he wanted to, to shove it deep past my tonsils and take that nut outta his balls. But he kept cooing and directing me, and because he was expressing the control he wanted I knew I could hold off on what I wanted. He borrowed a page from Dante's playbook and slowly stroked the top of my head.

"Hole' up a second," said Darnell "I ain't tryin' to nut just yet and it's time to talk about training you to suck my dick the way I like." I didn't understand this; shit, I'd been sucking his dick for five days and taking notes and using those notes on his dick when I sucked it. Again, that weird sense of panic about what I'd do if I couldn't keep sucking their dicks came over me. But I didn't get off his dick, of course. I just patiently waited with his dick all the way deep, listening for more but mixing in gentle and intense swallows and gulps to keep the dick being stimulated. He put a hand on my forehead to push me back and I thought I was going to cry.

"I'm gonna school you about some shit," he started out. "Both Dante and I are gonna pledge one of the black greek fraternities, and those muthafuckas will take over a brutha's life, especially during pledging. So me and Dante gonna train you up for optimal use while our asses are busy with pledging."

I listened, though two things were going on. One, I really wanted his dick back in my throat balls deep, and two, I was imagining all the black men in the fraternity and wondered whether they'd let a white fag blow them.

"So Dante and I are gonna teach you to perfect three kinds of blowjobs." Now I was mesmerized and fully focused on what he was saying. "You gonna need to have a 2-minute, a 5-minute, and a 10-minute blow job, baby gurl, and you gonna have to be expert at all of `em. That way when Dante or I meet up with you, we can say `Give me a 2 minute nut, baby' or `You got five minutes, get your job done.' 10-minute the same way. Anything more than 10 minute we'll just call `freestyle' and if there's a time limit we'll let you know. And you may be suckin' dick in a lot of places way crazier than this."

"How am I supposed to make you guys come in just 2 minutes?" I asked.

"You can," said Darnell. "You been learning `bout our dicks and what makes us nut already. You know you need to spend some time lovin' on my dickhead if you want me to bust, and you know Dante likes to feel his shit crazy deep and swallowed on. Hell, Dante says you made him nut sooner than he wanted to a bunch a times already. We gonna help you."

My facial expression must have given away my anxiety.

"Gurrrrlll, what you playin' at?" laughed Darnell, sliding a hand into my hair and cupping the back of my head, looking directly into my eyes with that sparkle in his. "You know you the best cocksucka out there and you got the skills." Whether Darnell was being schooled by Dante about how to get me to do whatever he wanted, or his own intuition discovered cocksucker flattery made me putty, he saw me grinning at that and grinned back at me.

"So here's what I figure," he went on. "I got thirty-five minutes before class, and leaving five minutes to walk from here to there means you got 30 minutes of workout on my dick. That's some good training time, and I'm figuring on a couple nuts. I'll watch the clock and you suck the dick."

I nodded, on my knees in front of him and turned on like crazy.

"Yo', I tell you what," continued Darnell. "Before I school you on getting my nut in 2 minutes or under, let's just let you freestyle on my shit and see what you come up with to make me nut fast. Shit, maybe you know already how to make `dem nuts pop fast, and if not, I'll school you and we gonna practice til you get it right." Him talking like that... made me feel heat and throbbing in my distended nipples. It was like a Zen state born of hormones drenching everything in my body that could feel anything. He moved his hand to around the back of my head and slowly began pulling me forward.

"Aiiight you horny little cocksucka'," Darnell said, pushing forward his exposed dick and nuts and looking at his watch, "yo' ass got two minutes to make these nuts spit out yo' breakfass'."

I made the cum-hungry mistake I'd made before... I galloped onto his dick balls deep immediately, and then began nursing on it with my throat, tongue and lips.

"Mm hmmm," I heard him say. "Now you got 45 seconds left. You sure you doin' what you want to be doin'?" Darnell asked.

I looked up at him when he asked that. My anxiety spiked and it must have shown, somehow I'd already forgotten his promise to help me learn to do his dick right for an under-2 minute nut.

"It's cool baby, I got you. Keep my dick in yo' mouth while I talk to you. Nod or something. Naw, I know... swallow hard on my dick while it balls deep in there... yeah. OK, while I'm training your pussy mouth and you just listenin' you need to be right where yo' sweet little cunt throat is right now. If I asks you somethin' then one good swallow means `yes' and two good swallows mean `no.' Now, you got that? Swalla once for saying `yes.' Aww, hell, that's hot. Yeah, I like that shit. Thass how you gonna answer me anytime I ask you sumthin'. One swallow or two."

I kept my nose smashed into his pubes and my forehead on his hard stomach. I swallowed once, hard, for `yes.'

"Aaaight bitch, first thing. I know yo' ho' ass is all sprung on nigga nut and I ain't mad how hungry you want it, shit's hot and saves a brutha a whole lotta pussy drama and jackin' off. But I schooled yo' ass on how to treat my dick head good, didn't I bitch? Couple minutes back you just dove your cum hungry throat balls deep and acting like you was doing a good job and a brutha just oughta give up his nut."

I froze inside and was already not moving on the outside. This was the closest to expressing unhappiness with my dick servicing that had happened to me yet sucking the dicks of these three black men.

"Now, we gonna start all over again and I'm gonna give you another two minutes. My advice to you to get me to bust inside of two minutes is to spend at least the first minute slathering mah dickhead with yo' tongue. Start off sweet but ramp that shit up til you pop-sucking yo' mouth offa my dick. Yeah, I wanna hear that popping sound, like you pulled a sucker outta yo' mouth while you was still sucking hard on it."

He paused. I swallowed again, once.

"Then, I'll say `take all of it gurl,' and that will be your clue it's time for you to move yo' dicksucking to the second half. In the second half, you gonna wanna keep yo' mouth wet and tighten up yo' lips in a circle all around my shit and then you gonna need to go all the way down on my shit, swallow once at the bottom, hold it a second or two, and then slowly come back up pushing yo' tongue up hard against my dick on the bottom side. You don't come up offa the dick never, just as far as the dickhead. My dickhead best never be cold once it get into your mouf."

Holding still there on my knees, made to wait and learn I felt like I could scream for the want of knowing the secret, rushing to the answer, and getting back to making his nuts feed me every bit of juice they got. I stayed on my knees, his dick planted all the way down my throat. But I could increasingly taste the nut drool that was oozing out of his dick and back-splashing up my throat to my taste buds, getting wetter and earth-tangier as he verbally got closer and closer to telling me how to suck his dick and make it cum. That habit for the speedy chase of making a man cum was more responsible than any other in my training for future smacks on the head, complaints, dicks being yanked away from me (oh, man, I fuckin' HATE that) and my own personal frustrations relative to my `perfect dick sucker' pursuits.

My heart was beating so fast I thought he could feel it on his dick. This pause was brief too, and then he got to it.

"You keep that shit up for ten or twenty smooth, wet strokes, slowly going faster and faster but don't fuckin' get too fast too soon... Now, this next shit is important if you wanna do yo' job right," Darnell underlined. "Once I gets to feelin' good and my nuts start to tingle I'm gonna grab yo' ho' head and I'm gonna take over how far and fast and deep that shit go. You just gimme yo' throat, but keep it wet and I want to feel that tongue pushing up against my sliding dick. Here's the important part... I'm gonna fuckin' close my eyes and you gonna make moaning sounds like a REAL fuckin FEMALE, you got me. That shit got to be girly and if you do it right you gonna feel a big ole gusher of my percolatin' nut fillin' up yo' belly."

I really thought I might cum. I gulped hard once... I fuckin' trembled...and then I gulped again. Time seemed so distorted in my testosterone haze I wasn't sure I'd had a good enough pause between the swallows.

"Ha! Yo' ho' ass is fuckin' tremblin'. Dante's ass was right, props to the brutha," laughed Darnell. My condition was funny to him.

"OK, baby gurl, trial run number two. Yo' ass ready?" he asked.

I gulped my once for a yes.

"OK, you know what," commented Darnell. "To do this right we need to test out your 2-minute skills on my cooled off dick, not my dick been planted and droolin' down your sweet cunt throat. You best come up offa my dick fo' a minute."

I didn't want to. I hesitated.

"C'mon now," he said, kind of patient but serious, "you know you gonna get it back." I stopped fighting the release, and he came out slow letting me keep my tongue pointy along his dick and push out all the precum I could get out of his awesome dick.

"You can stay right there, though," Darnell said, referencing my positions on my knees in front of him. "I like keeping bitches on they knees like that." As an afterthought, he added, `but that shit ain't gonna help ole' Junior chill outta attack mode," laughing to himself. "I'm trying to get my shit to go soft so we can time it from a soft dick." Somehow the scene seemed right to me, and I just breathed deeply and waited.

Seemed an odd time for him to strike up conversation, but I guess it was meant to get his dick to go down.

"So what you studying?" he asked out of the blue. Looking up at him to answer, I still had the long black tunnel of his dick in my peripheral view, and it was close enough to my nose to hone in on scents, trying to detail all I could guess of them and whose source I could name. I really wanted to have my face on his balls again. Now would be nice.

I answered him, though like lots of college freshmen it would change again a couple times. I asked about his.

"Engineering," he said. "I like to build shit. I like to know how shit works. I like to take things apart and put them back together again."

"I could see that being a cool way to spend a career," I offered. He looked down at me with a funny expression. Somehow what I said was not what he expected to hear.

But he changed the subject anyway.

"Fuck, muthafucka," he started out. "Ain't no way Junior Johnson gonna settle down with you on your knees lookin' up at me with those white boy pretty blue eyes."

I liked him saying that. I smiled.

"So we just gonna have to do this shit with me starting out with a hard dick," he said as he straightened up and squared up his hot sticky dick with my face. I started to move forward. He stopped me.

"You remember what you `spose to do and the order in which to do it?" he queried. "I want yo' ass to get it right this second try."

"I paid really close attention," I responded.

"Hmmh!" he snorted through a grin. "I know you did."

With that he presented his dick, and then struck a pose with his arms crossed in front of him and looking down at me.

"Make me cum, bitch," very much sounded like a command, especially the way he said it.

I closed my eyes and started out the way I was told. He made supportive little comments about how good I was doing, and that fed my drive to deliver my gold medal best. I was lost in the haze of the cum seeker's dance when I heard him say, "OK, gurl, it's time to take all my shit deep."

I knew what to do and I did it. I was only vaguely counting the wet slurpy dives I was taking on his dick—he'd said 20 or 30 strokes—but I also knew that the next step was his move, where he grabs hold of my head and I give up control of my throat so he can fuck it. Set the pace and how deep and when he nuts. And oh, yeah. I was gonna have to moan like a female bitch. I didn't think I would be any good at it, and just the idea of failing Darnell's instructions made me unhappy.

Then the moment was upon me. "You doin' good, gurl," Darnell said as he placed his hands on the sides of my heads, pinning down the tops of my ears but still making it possible for me to hear his instructions, "and now it's showtime."

I thought he would head right into a deep face fuck, one that would start out smooth and turn ragged, and rough. I was getting used to that from him. But that's not what he did.

First he changed the pace of the stroke, slowed it down, and got into rotating both my head and his dick while it was deepest down my throat. I recognized the move from Dante, though I didn't have any reason to assume it wasn't popular with all men.

Then he did something he'd not ever done before. The lower three fingers of each hand began a synchronized kind of stroking on my head... it was a tender and erotic counterpoint to the fierceness with which his hands clamped and controlled my head, and the deep and slow stabbing of his huge dick in every corner of my throat. I think the fingers stroking my hair did it, but a soulfully-inspired moan worked its way up quietly from my lungs. And it wasn't the natural bass usually found in my voice. I suddenly thought, well, fuck, I can do that. And I moaned some more, and while it wasn't operatic girly, it was Kathleen Turner musky.

Well, Darnell liked it. He said so. "Oh, you muthafuckin whore! Yeah, that's right... moan for me baby... Let me feel yo' throat hummin wit my dick in it... fuck bitch you know that's gonna make a brutha nut... yeah... brutha `bout to cut loose wid it..."

This last announcement was paired with that deep hard fucking and the even tighter clutch of his hands on my head and his raspy breathing and swearing that I thought would be how he'd bust his nut. I'd added my own touch at this point... it was partly a way to pleasure a man's balls, and to be in touch with a man's nuts while you were servicing him, as every learned cocksucker knows, is a great way to feel how close he is to busting based upon the elevation of man's testes before he shoots off. It's a very hot thing to see, I insist, and of course I've had some awesome views of just such things.

Seemed like he liked the gentle nut play too. I could tell he was close. Good, my face and my throat were getting sore and this was just the first of three more scheduled blow jobs for the day. A second nut was expected by the same dick currently threatening to put me out of commission for a few days, and both Dante and Mr. J. expected to be sucked off, and expected my A game with no excuses.

Darnell went into a new zone. I was familiar with him swearing and talking smack all the way up to and including cumming, but now he was all grunt and breath. He also usually shot his load while still thrusting, so I didn't know what to make of it when after a pretty aggressive run at deep hard plunges he moved his hands to the back of my head, pressed his groin really hard into my face, and held still. I waited for what I was sure was going to be an immediate scalding burst of nut but there was instead this frozen pause, split-second no doubt, and then all of a sudden bullet like pops of cum shooting straight into my throat and making me cough.

He wasn't letting me up though so the cough spasmed my throat on his dick and he just kept shooting. I mean, I know he busted twice just yesterday and it was only one overnight later and his nuts were creaming huge gobs of black man jizz way past any part of my throat that could taste what he was giving me. The idea that hotter sex experiences can explode the orgasm and the ejaculate to greater levels than some of the more pedestrian – albeit awesome anyways—orgasms hadn't yet become something I knew.

It was the first time Darnell had come so hard like that with me. I was crazy proud, and frankly, a bit strained at supporting his collapsed weight over me. I was happy as fuck with his dick shrinking and draining in my throat, but I had been on my knees for about half an hour without benefit of having remembered something between my knees and the cement. I finally had to say something about it, fearing I would topple.

He didn't say anything about it right away, and I wasn't certain if he hadn't heard or didn't understand or didn't care and/or he was trying to teach me something about I didn't get to be comfortable because I was here to serve at his pleasure... or what. But, at his leisure, he straightened himself but never took at least one strong hand off my head and he never let me back off of his dick. I wasn't going to, but I couldn't have.

"Keep that shit in yo' mouf," was the next thing I heard. He scooted one step toward the cot about five feet away. He expected me to slide with him and not to let the dick out of his mouth. I did, I followed him and pretty soon he was scooting sideways on his feet and I on my knees. When we got to the bed, he pulled me up off my knees and simultaneously laid out lengthways, pulling me onto the cot with his slippery dick trying to pop free. I stayed on the dick and he noticed I'd done so with some difficulty.

"You are the goodest damn cocksuckin' bitch," he said while closing his eyes. "We jus' gonna chill like this for a coupla minutes, let a brutha catch a breath and you get used to having a dick relax in yo' throat and just hang out there."

My position on the cot was really really uncomfortable, me balancing my body on one side of the long wooden brace of one side of the cot. I tried to maneuver a bit without bothering Darnell, who very likely seemed to be nodding off any minute.

He opened one eye and looked at me. I think he sensed I was uncomfortable.

"We good?" he asked, with just the one eye open and a raised eyebrow.

I looked at him and wanted to change my position, but something stopped me. Instead, I just tightened my throat clamp around his now soggy and resting dick, and swallowed one.

 

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