After that encounter in the bookstore, I spent the next week on edge. It had been a series of mind-bending first experiences. My first visit to an adult bookstore, my first visit to a backroom booth, and my first encounter with the overwhelming alpha power of a black man.
I mentioned I grew up in a typical mainly white suburban area. Like most of those sterile places, black families were few and far between. Growing up, I'd had really no contact with black guys. Sure, my soccer team had one black player but honestly could not say we "hung out." We would meet for practice or play at a game, grab a shower, and go our separate ways. I'd pass the few black students in hallways at school, but honestly, I had no real connections.
Now things had changed. I found myself subtly watching the black guys walking confidently along the corridors at my school. I now saw them in a new light. I soon realized they were cooler and more assured of their manhood. They had that same intoxicating erotic alpha vibe that had me on my knees in the city. I found I was feeling a natural desire to be deferential around every black student I came into contact with that week. In fact, being subservient felt right.
In the showers after soccer practice, I would try not to be obvious about staring at my black teammates stunning cock. I could not believe I'd not checked him out until now. Watching his easy self-assurances tanding around us while casually soaping up his amazing dick and low hanging balls was mesmerizing. Keeping the shower on its coldest setting kept me from boning at the sight of that magnificent display of real manhood.
Next to him white guys had pathetic dicks with equally puny balls. Here was a real man standing before me! I was lucky the water covered my salivating mouth. It took all my will power not to go up to him in the lockers and beg to be given the privilege to "drop and blow" him. Images of the servicing a black guy's cock now haunted my every moment.
It was as if when I slurped up that guy's cum I had been seeded with a profound understanding my true white boy's role in their world. I would walk around thinking that my views on life were different. I secretly was so proud that now I had once had inside me something of the essence of a real man.
In time I would soon realize the inferiority of white men in general. That, in reality, we were copies of what men should be in this life. Black men were the original men. Strong sharp and clearly defined in vibrant black while white boys like me were only pale copies of their perfect original. You can read a copy but it is duller, inferior and, as time passes, it fades to its true insignificance. I was the dull imitation of a real man. Black men were the real deal.
Later in life I would come to believe there should be a separate name for our ridiculous pale skinned breed so the word "man" is not denigrated by including us in its term. But, as I said, these realizations would come later in my life. For now I was a white boy discovering his subservient sexual and personal role in the world of alpha black gods.
It was all still new and scary, and yet I lay awake those weeknights counting the hours till Saturday. That morning I got up early and showered. I had secretly skimmed the web on how a bottom needed to get ready. By then I thought of myself as his bottom. Images of his hard dark cock pounding my virginal pussy had me jerking off for days. Anyway I managed to get my hands on my sister's douche to get myself ready before I left home that day. Before you ask, yes I did fantasize the soapy liquid I was shooting into me was his creamùÝ and naturally I beat off during my douching.
I was so anxious I got there three hours before he told me to arrive. I checked for him in the place the second I arrived but he wasn't around. So I waited outside. Old dudes came by and kept looking at me as they walked past me to go inside the store. One even offered me money for a fast hand job in the backroom. I was a nervous wreck, but I stayed because by then all I craved was his dick popping my white suburban pussy.
Then, I saw him walking towards this place and me. I felt my throat dry out as he got nearer. He saw me, smirked, and then came right up in my face. His innate power seemed to flow out to embrace me. I was so fucking hot for him to use me like the white bitch I knew I was. If he told me to drop and suck him in public, I would have done it right there on the street. He simply strode past me without saying a word. But he didn't have too, because we both knew why I was there.
Like a puppy I followed him towards the booths. From the corner of my eyes I could see guys nodding. I heard one older black guy tell his friend, "This white boy is getting turned out good back there." The other laughed and replied, "Yeah, white boys go nuts for our cocks every damned time."
I heard some patrons shuffling to follow us. I thought my body would shake apart I was so nervous and freaked. Then he just turned around and looked at me. I felt his power in those dark eyes. I gulped. I think I whimpered out a mumbled groan of desire. "Hang on bitch you'll get your pussy filled soon enough," he snarled.
All I know was that I moved closer to him. "Gonna crack you cracker," he chuckled, as he led me deeper into the back room. We quickly went into a large booth. This one was not as darkly lit, and it had glass on its walls. I thought I noticed movement behind the glass. I looked at him to ask if what I saw was real.
Before I could, however, he grabbed me and pulled me close. I breathed in his scent. I felt so weak and aroused. I stood still as he unzipped me and yanked down my pants. By now I wanted his cock so bad. My lips were dry and I was gulping in air. He laughed and said something about how bad I must need his sweet dark meat. I barely nodded.
He was in total control and it felt so natural. He pushed me to my knees. From my cyber surfing I knew I needed to get his dick wet for screwing me. His dark erection rubbed along my dry lips. Hell, I just wanted his cock.
I licked his nuts first, and then slobbered on his erection. I heard myself mumbling my need for him as I eagerly slurped on his manhood. The taste of him and the aroma of his musky crotch drove me crazy. I heard him saying I must be a cock-crazy white boy the way I was chowing down on him. I let my tongue answer that for me.
After that it all seemed to blur. He pulled me up and quickly turned me so my back was facing him. I just went with his flow as he bent me over. I felt his fingers entering into my tight butt-hole only seconds later. He began softly instructing me on how to relax.
It was painful at first but somehow I knew he would not truly hurt me. By now I was so hungry to be screwed by him. My first experience at having my white boy pussy being "fingered out" by a real man was so mind fucking. Then, it happened. I felt my hole opening up.
He shoved his cock slowly inside me. I was lost in a mixture of pain and desire. I dimly noticed the shadows behind the glass walls moving around. It hit me that guys must be behind them watching me get my butt-fucked. Somehow instead of being freaked out I was turned on. I wanted them to see me getting plowed by this powerful dominating god.
I moaned and sobbed or at least I think I was doing it. I only recall feeing stuffed and then boning. I felt him reach under me and grab my hard-on. He said something about me being a good white pussy and being so tight. I¡¦m not sure of what he was precisely saying as I was focused on how good my ass felt with his thick cock inside of me. I began humping back on his dick.
He said he always knew I needed a strong black dick inside of me from the first time he saw me in here. "After you¡¦ve been screwed by a black man, no white dick will ever satisfy you, my little bitch," he laughed as he rammed in and out of my hole. I moaned how I knew I would always crave the power of a black cock in my pussy.
I heard sounds around us but by then I was lost in heat. Riding his dick felt natural and right. Like all the pieces of my mental puzzle finally locked into place. Visions of my black soccer teammate doing me with him watching it flashed into my brain. I heard myself whining for more from him. I was mentally home at last.
By the end I wanted this not to stop, but all too soon, he let out a loud groan and spewed into my willing guts. I felt his warm wet gushing liquid fill me. I was being seeded! The thought of this powerful black man spewing his manhood into me made my head explode. It was only later when he pulled out that I saw that I had ejaculated too.
I slumped against the wall. I was lost in my first after-sex glow and my pussy ached to be filled again. When I finally caught my breath and turned around he was already dressed. He handed me a bunch of tissues and told me to clean my ass.
He grinned at me as I stood before him with my pants and underwear around my ankles wiping away his jizz inside my butt crack. He instructed me to finish, and then fuck off and never come back. I wanted to cry when he said that, but he patiently told me that he had no use for white suburban bitches after he took their virginity.
He left me in the booth. As I dressed I glanced at the glass walls. There were numerous splotches of cum dripping on them. I realized the men behind them had beat off watching me get popped. I never went back because that was his order. I went on with my life but deep in my inner core I guess I never forgot him and the naturalness of being a white bitch to a true black alpha man.
For weeks I kept that bunch of tissues stained with his spunk. I would hold them to my nose to get his scent as I beat off. One day I forgot to put it away, and when my room got cleaned they were lost in the trash.
After that, the black guy on my soccer team found his used jock strap somehow got "lost" after one of the games. After graduation, I went to a small Midwestern college that had no black men. There, I forgot for a time how natural and fulfilling it felt serving black men. I had no idea that my life of submission and servitude had only just begun.
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