Date: Thu, 26 Oct 2017 19:16:42 +0000
From: herb_cat@lycos.com
Subject: gay/interracial: White Bitch Chronicles episode 4

White Bitch Chronicles: Episode 4: The Intern

(c)2017 Herb Cat. Do not reproduce or distribute this story without the
author's permission.

Please note: this story depicts oral, anal, and group sex between males
of different races. If any of these offend you or are illegal to publish
in your jurisdiction, or you are under the age of 18, read no further.
The characters, locations and incidents in this story are fictional. Any
resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is
entirely coincidental.

As an author, I welcome feedback on my writing. Please send any comments
about this story, positive or negative, to Herb_Cat@mailcity.com. Thank
you.

.oOo.

This is the fourth episode of the White Bitch Chronicles. The entire
series covers a time span of nearly two decades. Each episode records
the experiences and self-discoveries of a different white narrator who
encounters authoritative black masters. In episode 3, Kenny entered
college. Episode 4, occurring eight years later, recounts how Kenny as a
senior oriented a freshman to life on campus and that student, when he
graduated, found a job.

.oOo.

I couldn't believe today was actually the day. I hardly slept last
night, I was so excited. I had received rejection letters from every law
school I applied to. I don't even know why I bothered. I knew once they
saw my college grades they wouldn't want me. So I couldn't believe it
when I got the letter from Phil Johnson, a partner in one of the most
prodigious firms in the city, offering me an internship. I was just as
excited as I was that Friday night four years ago when Kenny showed me
around campus.

There I was at Forester, a mere Freshman very wet behind the ears,
waiting by the front door of my dorm when the football team's massage
therapist, a Senior, pulled up in his Lexus GS F. I almost peed my pants
as I half skipped, half stumbled to the car and got in the passenger
door. Here I was, riding around campus with a football legend. I felt so
fuckin honored. The windows were open and everywhere we drove, students,
male students at least, would call out to us and wave. I was getting a
lot of attention and I loved it. I had made it! After driving past the
library, computer research building, and other campus highlights that I
was already familiar with, Kenny took me to the stadium, and stopped in
front of the attached field house. "That's where the team gets ready for
the game," he explained, as if I were ignorant of the fact, but he
seemed to want to spell it out in detail. "They get there a few hours
before kickoff and take their time getting out of their civvies. They're
not in a hurry to get into their uniforms. I go around and check if they
need anything massaged. They joke around a lot, some of them totally
naked and they slap each other on the butt as they talk about the girls
they've already fucked and the ones they want to get into bed. And they
compare dick sizes. You should get a load of those mammoth black man
tools." Hearing him talk like that made my little cock stiffen. I hoped
he didn't notice, but he probably did because he kept staring at me to
judge my reaction as he talked. Then we drove past the local watering
hole. "Maybe, later tonight, we might end up back here for a little
refreshment. You like that, Cochran?" I was about to point out to him
that I was underage but that didn't seem the right time. We came up to
his Frat house and some of his brothers came over to the car, and Kenny
introduced me. I recognized several as members of the team. "And you
already know Greg here, he's one of our pledges." I did know Greg. He
was on our High School team. He gave me a big grin like we were actually
friends. We exchanged small talk. Then Kenny drove out to a hill that
overlooked the whole campus, parked and turned off the engine. "You know
what this place is?" I had heard about it, but this was the first time
I'd been there. "This here is Mount Make-out." He grinned proudly.

"Kenny, I gotta ask you something."

"Anything, little buddy." He put his right hand on my knee.

"Why are you showing me all this stuff? telling me all this stuff?"

"Hey, Cochran, I've been noticing you."

"I know, I do sorta stick out in a place like this."

"Well, to me you looked lonely. It can be tough at first, being a white
kid at a black college. Believe me I know."

"But you seem to fit right in. Everybody likes you. Shit, you even drive
a Lexus!"

"A gift from an alumnus. Trust me, in time they'll like you too,
Cochran." He squeezed my knee. "You're a sweet kid. And I thought to
myself, maybe this boy needs someone to show him where things stand
around here. So, I asked Greg to tell me about you."

"So, he probably told you I was gay."

"Yes, he did, Cochran. So am I."

I stared at him. "Really? And they accepted you? I mean like you're in a
fraternity and all."

"Yes, Cochran, and like you, I'm strictly a bottom."

"Wow! So you know about that, too."

"Yep, Greg told me about your exceptional talents."

Ah, yes. My exceptional talents. My official title back in our little
high school was Equipment Manager. But that wasn't what Greg and the
others called me. To them, I was Cocksuckin Cochran. After a game, I
would collect their dirty uniforms and their sweaty jockstraps, while
they hit the shower. Then, before getting dressed again, a few of them
would give me their rods to blow while the whole team watched. Even the
coach caught us a few times, but he never said shit about it. As long as
they performed on the field, he didn't care what they did for
extracurricular fun. Now the cat was out of the bag. Not that I minded
really. I enjoyed sucking cock. I mean, really enjoyed it. It was the
only way I ever got my jollies.

"So, Cochran, was Greg the only black on your team in high school?"

"Yeah, he was. In the little town we came from, he was the one who stood
out."

"I bet he stood out in another way too."

"Hehe, yeah. Greg had the biggest fattest cock by far of anyone on the
team. I loved sucking that dark meat. I guess maybe that's why I applied
to come here. I kept dreaming 'bout all the black cocks here at
Forester. But I haven't gotten to suck any of them yet. What should I
do, Kenny?"

"Leave it to me, Cochran. I'll spread the word. But you got to be ready
for a few things. A few differences between here and your high school."

"Like what?"

"Like, first off, they're gonna start callin you Boy and Bitch. Can you
handle that?"

"In high school I was always Cocksuckin' Cochran, so I have no problem
with Bitch. Boy is a new one to me."

"It's a black thing. They are your superiors. Always remember that. You
will start addressing every black male as Sir. And you must be ready to
serve them anywhere and any time. Even if it means missing a class now
and then."

After that evening on Mount Make-out (and by the way, we did end up back
at the watering hole where Kenny had no trouble getting beer for his new
little friend), I showed up at the field house after every game.
Security knew I was allowed in. They probably knew why. Sometimes, some
of the team would call on me throughout the week for my special
services.

And that's how Boy Cochran made it through four years of college. My
grades stunk. I don't know how but somehow I squeaked by enough to get
my pre-law degree. Actually, I lied; I do know how. When I was about to
fail some course, the professor would take me into his office and make
me an offer I couldn't refuse. Apparently, my reputation extended way
beyond the football team. So I traded blowjobs for passing grades. I had
a few female professors of course and when one of them was about the
flunk me, Coach Wilson would have a word with her, explaining how much
the team needed me. Incredulous, she invariably passed me.

But today school days are over, and here I am, sitting in this mahogany
lined waiting room to see Mr Johnson, my new employer. Maybe he knew
that potential legal talent didn't always show itself in a GPA. His
secretary Gladys had given me a sheaf of documents to look over and
sign. Shit, this was a real job! I was going to have a 401K, two weeks
paid vacation, traveling expenses, health insurance, time and a half pay
for weekends, the whole fuckin nine yards. I was beginning to get
nervous. Was I in over my head? Was I about to blow the opportunity of a
lifetime? After collecting the papers from me, Gladys ushered me in.

Phil Johnson was a handsome dude. Clean cut. Square jaw. Broad neck.
Intimidating eyes with lids half shut. Large hands. And best of all,
black. A rich umber. He stood up when I entered and gave me a firm
handshake. He was wearing a black Armani suit and a black,grey and white
striped tie. He also wore a dark pink shirt, which provided a striking
contrast to his skin tone. He doffed the jacket and handed it to Gladys
who proceeded to hang it on a hanger on a rack in one corner of his neat
office. She handed Mr Johnson his coffee, asked me how I like
mine,--Black,--gave me a cup and closed the door on her way out. Johnson
waved me to a chair in front of his desk. He proceeded to sit his ass
down on the desk. After adjusting his package, he looked down at me and
smiled.

"So tell me," he asked, "what do you see yourself doing here at the
firm?"

I had anticipated a question like this and came prepared with an answer.
"I expect to assist you research precedents, manage case files, prepare
for trials and hearings, meet with clients, help..."

He cut me off. "Look here, kid. There are six other partners here, four
legal assistants, two paralegals, and four other interns far more
qualified to do the things you're listing. No, I know your expertise
lies elsewhere, and if I'm right, and by the way, I am always right,
you're going to be a great asset to us. Would you like me to paint you a
job description?"

"Uh, yes, Sir." I took a sip of my coffee. It tasted awful.

"You see, I graduated from Forester. I know the coach there very well.
Bernie and I go way back." Bernie? Did he just call Coach Wilson Bernie?
"I'm a loyal alumnus and an avid football fan. I own one of the sky
boxes overlooking the field. Ever been in a skybox, Kid?" I shook my
head. "You will. In fact, that's where you'll be performing much of your
duty." Johnson readjusted his package. "Are you beginning to understand,
Kid?"

"Uh, yes, I believe so."

"Bernie told me how much the team relied on Boy Cochran at Forester. We
handle a lot of high profile cases here, as you know. It's a high
tension work place. We need to be able to let off steam now and then.
Well, no, not steam. We need to blow our wad every so often. Quite
often, in fact. You'll be expected to suck all our staff, from partners
to paralegals and other interns, the males, that is." He stood up,
unzipped, and let his cock hang free. It was jet black, cut and ampIe. I
set my coffee cup down on his desk, then reached over, unbuckled his
belt and helped him slide the trousers down his legs. Big legs. Dark
legs. Legs with garters supporting his black socks. Very sexy legs. He
was wearing dark blue boxers and I gently pulled the waistband down
below his ball sack. I got off the chair, knelt down, opened my mouth
and closed my eyes. I was back home. I was back in the high school
locker room, blowing Greg and the other guys there. I was back at
Forester where I had succeeded Kenny blowing the members of Coach
Wilson's team, and blowing my professors for better grades. I was where
I was always meant to be: on my knees, with a lovely black cock in my
mouth. I opened my eyes and looked up reverently at my new boss. I
needn't have worried about screwing up this job. I knew I had what was
required to make a good impression on my first day on the new job. My
new career. I stroked his balls. I licked his shaft. I sucked his
scrotum. And I kept returning to his cock for more sucking. I reached
behind him, pushed his boxers aside and began fingering his hole as I
sucked. He looked down at me and smiled. He took my head in his big
hands and held it close to his pubes. He began to groan. After a few
minutes of pure pleasure, he erupted. I didn't want to allow a drop of
cum to fall on to his expensive carpet, so I tried to swallow as fast as
he came. In the end, he pulled out and delivered the final volley to my
face. I closed my eyes and waited. I was thrilled. Once again I was, and
would always be, Cocksuckin' Boy Cochran.

I heard him pull up his pants and walk over to his private lav. I heard
the water run. I heard him zip closed. I heard him return to me. "Here."
I opened my eyes. He was handing me a warm wet towel. "Clean yourself
up."

"Thank you." I washed my face and got back into my chair. He sat back
down on the desk.

"You're going to do just fine here."

"So that's it, Sir? All I have to do is come in each day and suck cock?"


"Well, there are a couple other things."

"Yes, Sir. Anything you ask."

"We have an integrated staff here, black and white. You'll suck all the
guys. But my black brothers, they're going to want to fuck your pretty
white asshole as well, Boy."

"That's wonderful, Sir. And the second thing?"

"Learn to make a decent cup of coffee. Gladys never got the knack." He
smiled, then walked over and opened the door. "Gladys, make sure
bookkeeping adds Mr Cochran to our payroll. And tell the other partners
to come here in an hour. I'd like them to meet the new man on our team,
and really get to know him."

.oOo.

In the next episode of White Bitch Chronicles, four years later, Cochran
instructs a lawyer from a different firm on dealing with his clients. As
an author, I welcome feedback on my writing. Please send any comments
about this story, positive or negative, to Herb_Cat@mailcity.com. Thank
you.