Gone Black - Chapter Four - Taking Cum on Homecumming - Part 1

 

* This story is fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or living persons is coincidental.
Personal experiences, from images to events, memories and words, flavor my writing, and while elements of this story may be (and often are) based in fact, the characters are entirely fictional.

* Unprotected sex is depicted. In real life, be safe! Don't gamble.

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GONE BLACK

By Colton Aalto


CHAPTER 4 – TAKING CUM ON HOMECUMMING – PART ONE

I was slinking out of the restroom where I'd slurped down my daily lunch of D'Marcus' thick babymakers when I ran into Sam. At first I didn't recognize him because he was dressed as a school security guard and he'd lost a good 15, maybe 20 pounds since my encounter with him last summer. He still was overweight but his gut was noticeably smaller.

Sam had the distinction of being the second dude whose dick my throat had hosted, moments after I'd swallowed a load of ball juice from the first dude's dick. It happened during the summer and the episode was both fresh in my mind and seemed like a long time ago. Fresh in my mind because the same taste of jizz was on my tongue after D'Marcus shot one his typically huge loads into my mouth and made me swallow, not that I wouldn't have eagerly swallowed anyway. And it seemed like it was long ago because I'd been incredibly nervous about sucking sock the first time I did it, whereas now I sucked at least one rod on a daily basis. Each one black and it was rare when I only sucked one.

That night I'd hooked up with Sam's sister Sheila in what was my first successful effort to do it with a girl. First and only, because it was never happening again. She was among the few white kids at my high school, although she'd been adopted and her parents – and her brother Sam – were black. She was chubby and had a reputation of being an easy lay, which was the principal reason I'd pursued her that night.

To make a long story short, Sam caught me sneaking out of Sheila's bedroom, Sam's friend Willy had the bright idea of teaching me to never go near Sheila again by turning me into a cocksucker, and the next thing I knew I was on my knees worshipping two black bones. Willy initiated my mouth with his veiny, light-skinned member, Sam gave me my second taste of black nut with his thick, midnight-black tool, and I left dazed and hooked on black dick and jizz. It was open to question whether the two dudes had turned me into cocksucker, exposed me as one, or opened my eyes so I realized that was what I was meant for. Whatever. I doubt the two black studs had any idea how well their plan worked.

[Author's note: The story of Collins' hookup with Sam and Willy is told in chapter 4 of "Go Black, Never Go Back."]

I didn't know Sam worked as a security guard at the school so I was surprised to see him. He apparently wasn't surprised to see me. He frowned when he spotted me and said, "Been lookin for you, Collins. You too good to eat lunch with the rest of the students, white boy?" His eyes drifted to the john I'd vacated.

Fuck. I was so screwed. Blowing D'Marcus in a school john had always been a stupid idea. It was only a matter of time until we got busted and apparently the time was up. I'd probably get suspended or worse. Somehow I knew that D'Marcus' status as a football star would shield him from any serious repercussions. That plus he was only a baby freshman while I was a senior. He'd probably have to do another set of pushups while I took the fall.

I steeled myself for a disaster, but to my surprise it never came. Sam announced, "Sheila wants to go to the homecoming dance and ain't nobody asked her yet. But good news, pretty boy! You're gonna take her. `Cuz I know after Willy and I taught you a lesson last summer that you won't try to get your dick inside her."

I blinked and was too stunned to answer. Not to mention totally relieved at having dodged a bullet.

"You're dressing up in a suit, you're buying her a fancy dinner, and you're gonna behave like a perfect gentleman. You pick her up Saturday at 6:00. On time. Not a minute late. No funny stuff. Understand?" I nodded, breathing a big sigh of relief that he apparently hadn't detected what I'd been doing in the john, or if he did, he wasn't going to bust my chops over it.

"You lay a hand on her, you're gonna regret it. So use your brains and not your dick, get it?" I managed to tell him I understood. He was correct that I wouldn't try to fuck Sheila, but not for the reason he thought.

He scowled at me and said, "Don't even think about pulling anything with her. You keep your prick in your pants if you know what's good for you, pretty boy. Capiche?" I assured him I completely understand. He had absolutely no reason to worry.

Sheila found me in the hallways that afternoon and was thrilled. "Sam told me about Homecoming! I'm so excited! Thanks so much for asking me, but you shouldn't have been so shy about it! Oh my God, I have a wonderful blue dress to wear!" Everybody would assume I was taking her only to get into her panties and ironically enough, I was about the only dude in school who had no interest in that. Been there, done that, ain't going back.

Homecoming was unseasonably warm and my seldom-used suit and tie felt stifling. It had been long enough since I wore it that I'd grown a couple of inches and the pants were too short. Ironically that made them the look stylish.

Wanting to make sure I wasn't late, I arrived early to pick up Sheila. Sam met me at the front door. "She's still makin herself look beautiful for you, pretty boy." He paused and a leering smile crossed his face. "That means... you have pleeeenty of time to thank me." He groped his crotch and I figured out how he wanted me to thank him. Subtly wasn't his strong suite. I hadn't been looking forward to the night, but things were improving. I didn't mind the idea of a little before-dinner snack.

Sam plopped on the couch, spread his legs wide open and growled, "Get on your knees, get between my legs, and get your mouth on my dick, cocksucker. You're gonna slurp down a load of my babymakers." I pulled my coat off and positioned myself between his thighs, easing his soft, coal-black rod from his shorts. The first time I'd sucked him, I'd been too dazed to savor the moment, not to mention being distracted by the realization that moments earlier I'd sucked my first cock and swallowed my first load of spunk. That episode was less than three months ago, and it was staggering how things had changed. I'd sucked cock so many times since then that I'd lost count. Since Labor Day I'd had at least one stiff rod in my mouth every day. And yeah, they'd all been black. That's what happens when you've gone black.

I took Sam's thick prick into my hands and began to lick, and he slumped down on the couch to give me better access to his junk. Unlike my first time blowing him, I was loving getting up close and personal with his fuck tool. I ran my tongue over every inch of his meat, getting it slippery and wet and causing it to power into an erection. Once it was hard, I took the head into my mouth and sank down on his fuck stick, eliciting a happy moan. "Fuck yeah, suck that cock, bitch!"

I began to bob up and down on his shaft, keeping one hand around the base while I played with his furry balls with the other. I wondered how many other dudes were sucking cock before heading to the homecoming dance. Maybe Ben, the white dancer who I'd fucked for a month during the summer, although I had a hard time seeing any of his boyfriends slumming enough to attend a high school dance. Luke, the other dude I'd dicked, would love to be slurping on a stiff pole, but I knew the kid had other plans and wouldn't be at the dance. I mentally rifled through a list of students at my high school and concluded there was a good chance that I was the only boy attending Homecoming who had a dick in his mouth that this moment. Of course, I could be totally wrong.

As I worked his tool, Sam's shirt slipped up far enough to reveal his hairy belly. The dude still had a big beer gut, but it was noticeably smaller than in the summer. He'd probably been working out, because he seemed more muscular than I remembered. Dick was the same, though. Just a hard prick, gliding toward a climax.

Sam's fuck tool wasn't all that long, but it was fat and I gagged a couple of times as I deep throated him. I had to remember to breathe through my nose. I finally got into a good rhythm. At least Sam must have thought it was good because he was growling and moaning happily. He made enough noise that I figured Sheila would hear him. My only hope was that the music I'd heard from her bedroom was drowning out the sounds of sex in the living room. I wondered how she'd react if she saw her date on his knees gagging on her brother's cock.

It wasn't all that surprising when Sam clamped his hands around my head and began to thrust upward, grinding his dick into my mouth. The blow job transitioned into a brutal face fuck. If the dude treated women anything like he was treating me, most wouldn't like going down on him. He probably wasn't as bad with them. I was a guy, so presumably he thought being rougher with me was not a problem. Maybe he was still extracting revenge for me bonking Sheila. I didn't mind the skull fuck and was kinda getting off on how he was assaulting my mouth. I couldn't do anything but drool as he controlled me.

"Oh yeah, suck that dick! Show me how much you want my nut, cocksucker."

I wanted his juice, but with my head in between his hands and my mouth filled with black fuck stick, there was nothing I could do to show him anything. Well, other than massage and squeeze his ball sac. I wondered whether he'd be less inclined to make me go down on him if I confessed that he wasn't making me do anything I didn't love and I wanted him to jizz my throat. Given he'd caught me fucking Sheila, it was logical he'd think I was straight. There was also the jock thing. Funny how dudes don't think athletes are gay. Fine if he wanted to think he was forcing a straight boy to give him head.

"Oh, fuck yeah. Fuck yeah. Suck, bitch! Suck!" I sucked cock while he sucked in his breath and panted.

Sam began flexing his glutes and I sensed he was ready to climax. He thrust his cock upward into my mouth a couple dozen more times before he gasped and cried, "OH!" A blast of hot cum followed, coating my mouth. He kept my head clamped on his crotch as his tool sent volley after volley of spunk into my guts. When he finally released me, we were both gasping for breath. Sam took his spent cock and rubbed it across my face, saying, "You look good with dick jizz on your face, white boy."

I barely had time to wipe my face and slip back into my suit coat before Sheila emerged, smiling and excited. Sam's gave me a satisfied smirk. If Sheila knew what had gone down or wondered why my face was flushed and sweaty, she didn't let on.

We exited the house to find a big black limo parked behind my beat-up car. Sam pulled me aside. "I arranged transportation for the night. It's on me. I'm not chancing you taking Sheila someplace other than exactly where you're supposed to be. The driver's a friend of mine and he's doing it on the cheap, so you be very, very nice to him. Capiche?" I nodded.

I'd never ridden in a limo but apparently Sheila had, because as soon as we were inside she grabbed a bottle of booze and poured us big drinks, laughing happily. By the time we reached the restaurant, she was tipsy. I was too.

Not only had Sam arranged transportation, he also made dinner reservations for us. To my chagrin, they were at an expensive, exclusive restaurant that would put a major dent into my meager bank account. I ordered the cheapest thing on the menu, and Sheila claimed she only wanted a salad. She either was being nice or was watching her weight, although you'd never know that by looking at her. Of course, it was still the most stratospherically expensive salad I'd ever seen.

The restaurant gave me the creeps. It was elegant, stuffy, and too quiet. Sheila and I were by far the youngest diners. She liked it though. Weirdly, Ben's parents were there. They recognized me and made a point of stopping by our table and asking our waiter to bring us a couple of fancy appetizers that they paid for. They said they were the best thing on the menu, and they were probably right. If they knew what Ben and I had done when I'd hung around their house for a solid month during the summer, they were probably completely confused by seeing me with Sheila. Maybe the appetizers were a reward for keeping my dick out of their son's asshole.

The food was great, but not the high point of the night. That honor was reserved for our waiter, Randol, who was a stunningly handsome black man I took to be 30. If he was bummed that one of his tables was occupied by two kids who weren't ordering an expensive bottle of wine or fancy dinners, he didn't let on. He brought us a couple of things he said were compliments of the chef, so between those and the appetizers Ben's parents bought, we ate a good portion of the menu and thankfully I didn't have to pay.

In addition to being cover-boy handsome, Randol was smooth and elegant. I overheard him speaking what sounded like perfect French at a table next to ours. I tried not to stare too much but with minimal success. He was fabulous.

Did I mention he was fabulous?

As dinner wound up, I excused myself to go to the restroom. It was the fanciest john I'd ever been in, with marble countertops, expensive fixtures and thick cloth towels to dry your hands. I sorta wanted to hang around just to enjoy it. Little did I know how soon I'd be back.

I left to find Randol standing in the hallway. He made no effort to move and let me pass by.

"You and your girlfriend are cute together."

"She's not my girlfriend. We're just, uh... friends. We're going to the dance together."

He raised his eyes in mock surprise. "Oh. Interesting. Cute boy like you, I'm surprised you wouldn't have a girlfriend. Surprised you wouldn't have an army of pretty teen girls happy to suck your rock." He paused and gave me a smirk. "Or maybe, surprised you don't have pretty boys sucking your big white rod and begging you to breed them with it."

I felt my face flush and I must have looked like I'd been shot. He chuckled and said, "You were paying more attention to the busboys and waiters than your date or the waitresses. But don't worry, I doubt anyone else noticed. I mean, I don't think any other diners noticed. The gay waiters and busboys – most of the staff – are another story."

I stood staring like a deer caught in the headlights. He grinned and said, "I have a special offer for you. Compliments of your waiter rather than the chef. How about a little cock juice for dessert?" He groped his crotch as my eyes bugged out, then added, "Best offer you're gonna get all night."

That was certifiably correct. The stud was awesome. I didn't react, merely licking my lips and staring as my heart raced. He had me and he knew it. "Yeah, you want it."

Randol pushed me back inside the restroom and into a stall, locking the door behind us and putting me on the toilet seat. He quickly unzipped his pants and hauled out a fleshy black cock and a pair of hefty balls. "You ever suck black cock before, boy?" He paused but soon figured out I either couldn't or wouldn't speak. "Yeah, you have. It shows in white boys' eyes. I can pick out white boys who've gagged on black dick from the moment they walk in the door. I can spot them from across the street. You're all alike. Don't want to admit you're hos for black tools but can't stay away." He eased my head into his crotch. I knew what to do.

I began licking but neither of us had the luxury of the time needed for a leisurely blow job. In moments I had the dude's soft manhood in my mouth. I love feeling a cock getting hard when it's in my throat and Randol's equipment didn't disappoint, powering into a rigid erection in no time. I would have loved to savor his rod slowly getting erect, but that wasn't an option and there was something exciting about how quickly his bone was ready to rock. Fuck, there was something incredibly exciting about the whole scene.

"Fuck, boy. You know what to do with a black dick. Suck out my nut out baby. You're good at cocksucking for a white boy. Damn good. You must have trained on plenty of black dick."

I couldn't dally. Normally I would have broken from sucking and licked his shaft up and down, maybe working his balls into my mouth and even tonguing his taint and hole before swallowing his rod again. But the clock was ticking and the cock was waiting. Sheila would wonder where I was and Randol probably had tables that soon would be unhappy about their waiter disappearing. I sucked hard, using one hand to squeeze and rub his big ball sac while I worked his rod with the other, stroking it in time to my mouth work. He pushed the pace too, thrusting forward and flexing his glutes as I deep throated him.

I worried about someone coming into the restroom, but due to my usual lunchtime activity during the week, I was adept at giving head while keeping one ear cocked for the sounds of anyone entering. My one regret was not getting to see the rest of Randol's body, which promised to be awesome if it was anything like his incredibly handsome face and beautiful cock. His tool wasn't huge, certainly not small, but perfectly proportioned and rock hard. I sucked like I was hungry for him, which I was. Sure it was my third cock of the day – Jeron had done his usual number on my holes earlier in the afternoon and I'd sucked off Sam – but Randol's nut was likely to be my last of the day. I wasn't anticipating getting more dick, not when I was taking a girl to a high school dance populated by awkward teenagers.

Sucking the stud in the restroom was wild. Yeah I did D'Marcus in the john at school on a daily basis, but the odds of getting caught there were minimal. At the restaurant, however, it was a different story, and the danger sorta excited me. That plus Randol was my co-conspirator and it was cool to be in same room with him, let alone in the same stall sucking his shaft.

The blow job didn't take that long. Certainly not as long as I would have preferred if the circumstances had been more conducive to an extended bout of making love to Randol's awesome piece. He shot in little time, flooding my mouth with ball juice that I thought would never stop firing. He let me squeeze the last drop from his dick and quickly shoved it back into his pants.

"Not bad for a quickie. I'd say you're a born cocksucker. Not every day when you find true talent in a restroom stall. Stop by some night when we're closing and I'll give you what you really want. It's in your eyes. I'll use your mouth and your ass all night long and use them like they've never been used before. For a white boy you've got a damn nice bubble butt. A white boy with an ass like that who sucks cock as good as you do has given it up to brothers before, but I'll make your boi pussy sing. I can tell you'd love that. Right?"

Well, yeah, I would. I nodded and he grinned. Damn he was handsome.

He glanced at the mirror to adjust his tie and slipped out of the john, leaving me hungry for more and wondering if there was any possible way I could take him up on his offer. What I wouldn't give to roll around in bed with the handsome hunk. However, there was a small problem. The restaurant closed about the time of my curfew, so his offer to stop by at closing wasn't one I could accept. I didn't see how I'd ever make it happen.

It was good that I checked myself in the mirror before returning to the table. I had a glob of splooge on my chin and some dangling from my long brown hair. I was about to wipe it off with one of the fancy cloth towels, but instead I scooped it into my mouth. Whipped chocolate nut for dessert. Tasty.

As soon as Sheila and I left the restaurant and got back inside the limo, she was into the liquor stash again. The trip turned into a long one because there was a multicar accident and we got into a massive traffic jam. I didn't care. I wasn't interested in the dance in the first place, so if we missed some of it, no big deal. Hell, I would have been fine if we missed all of it.

Sheila kept guzzling booze and because of her head start on the way to the restaurant and the delay in the traffic, she soon was tanked. I was out of it too, and I'd downed less than half of what she had. She turned to me and nonchalantly asked, "So do you like black cock or white cock best? I like black."

Even in the dim light of the car I must have looked shocked, because she laughed and waved a hand at me. "Oh, come on, Collins. I know you're getting plenty of dick. I always thought you were gay, but you know when I knew for certain? When we were doing it last summer. Gay boys are all alike in bed. Worried about how they're performing – or if they're gonna be able to perform – rather than just going for it. Maybe they're wondering whether the bedroom curtains match the rest of the room's decor. You're all the same. You wanna do it with a girl to see if lightning will strike and you'll be straight. I've convinced half a dozen boys that they were gay by doing nothing more than getting it on with them. I always thought you were gay and you weren't inside me for more than two minutes before I knew for certain you were. It's cool, though."

When she asked her cock question, I immediately began priming myself to deny being gay, but by the end of her talk I had pivoted and figured, why bother? Yeah I was gay, and there was zero reason to put up a pretense with Sheila. Instead, I said, "Black. I agree, black."

Sheila giggled and added, "You're just like me! Once I went black, I knew I was never going back. Something about having a stiff black piece inside me drives me crazy! It's the best. What's it like having a black dude's manhood in your asshole?"

I just about choked on my drink. I recovered long enough to confess, "It drives me crazy."

"Does it hurt?"

"At first."

"And then?"

"Well, then it starts feeling great."

"When's the last time you got fucked?"

This was getting a little personal, but part of me didn't mind opening up. "Um, like 4:00 today." As usual, Jeron had done the honors in the park, bending me over our usual picnic table. He was never as horny on Saturdays as on Fridays, but for some reason when he'd boned me earlier, he'd drilled me fast and furious.

"You slut! Oh my God! Boys have it so much better than girls. I mean dudes can just whip it out and get it on without all the drama. Do I know the lucky boy?"

"Um, no, pretty sure you don't. He's older. Not in school."

"Was he big?"

"Yeah." Sheila let out a happy sigh. Weird to have the school's easiest fuck vicariously getting off on my sex life.

"And black? Tell me he was black!"

"Yeah." I'd gone black when my mouth got initiated by Sam and Willy and my ass got bred by Jeron, and I didn't see going back. Ever. Not when there were black men like Randol and... well, I could go on. Jason...

She giggled, said something about how lucky I was and launched into a long discussion about black dudes and their dicks. Before we arrived at the dance, we'd discussed half of the boys in the senior class. Sheila had an elaborate system for rating them, giving points for faces, bodies, personalities and, of course, fuck sticks. Double points for big black ones. I learned who she thought was gay. A couple of the dudes weren't surprises but a couple were. It was the first time I'd talked with someone about being gay, and Sheila was so relaxed and matter of fact that it was fun. I was hugely relieved I didn't have to keep up the pretense of being straight. It felt good. I did wonder, however, if the real reason she'd figured out that I was gay had less to do with my performance in bed than something Sam might have revealed. Still, she probably figured it out on her own. I'd struggled to climax with her and was not into it at all, and I doubted the other high school boys she bedded had the same problem.

Hell, even Randol detected I was gay and he had less to go on than Sheila. I was drunk enough that I confessed to Sheila that I'd blown him and he'd invited me for an overnight. "OH MY GOD!" she screamed. "That is so fucking hot! I thought he might be gay, but I think all waiters are gay. Details! I want details!"

The blow job had happened so quickly that I didn't have many juicy tidbits to share. I knew what Randol's junk looked like but he'd kept his clothes on so I had nothing to report about his body. That didn't deter her from interrogating me about the blow job. The size of his cock. The shape. The color. Cut or uncut? Shaved pubes? Big balls? Danglers? She was happy to speculate about the rest of his body. So was I, although that only made me frustrated the only thing that happened between us was a quickie.

"So when are you sleeping with him?"

"Probably never. The restaurant closes too late – after my curfew."

"Collins don't let that stop you! I've snuck out of the house plenty of times!"

I wasn't certain I wanted to attempt that, but Sheila had other ideas too. "See if he works Sunday Brunch. I LOVE afternoon delights! At night boys are tired and just wanna get it in and pump it out. But in the afternoon you can wrap your legs around them and they keep doing it forever. Sunday afternoons and rainy days are the best!" I hadn't thought of the Sunday brunch angle, but the idea of spending an afternoon with Randol on top of me soon caused me to sprout a major boner. It didn't help that I'd been halfway there after reciting every detail for Sheila about blowing Randol in the restroom.

She was okay. We shared the same taste in dick. Big, black and beautiful. I'd dreaded Homecoming, but it was already one of the more memorable nights of my life. Sucked off two black hunks – one of them to die for – and had an equally memorable time talking to Sheila and dishing dirt with her.

And we weren't even at the dance yet...

TO BE CONTINUED...


My plan is to post chapters every two weeks, so stay tuned for as Collins' wild senior year of high school continues. Feedback appreciated! Email me at ColtonAalto@gmail.com.

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