No way was he Gay? PT4 Gay


No way was he Gay? PT4 Gay
I looked at the message: COCKSUCKER! I know you are probably dithering right now. But let’s make this simple so you don’t procrastinate. Be at my house at 1:00AM or I’ll never give you the privilege of servicing my cock. EVER!


My cock flinched in my pantyhose.

I clicked on the uber app and asked for a pick up… entering the street Jamal was on. Unsure of the exact address.

I pressed send and got a four-minute pick up time. Not much time to change my mind.

I went downstairs and said, “Sorry, guys, I really need to get home.”

“Got some new pussy?” Andrew, the dumb ass of the group, asked.

“Andrew!” Dave and Jerry both scolded.

“What?” Andrew said oblivious to why that was insensitive.

“Next week you host,” Dave reminded me.

“For sure,” I nodded as I checked my phone. The uber was two minutes away. “I’ll come by with Ben tomorrow to get the car.”

“Sure,” Dave nodded, and I walked out.

I waited a couple of minutes, looking at my phone. 12: 40. I’d likely arrive a few minutes early.

Still time to change my mind.

Did I want to suck his cock? Yes.

Should I suck his cock? No.







The moral code versus my recent insatiable hunger argued inside me with arguments on each side, although for most of them I didn’t know which was which.

Sucking his cock just once would give him all the power.

Sucking his cock just once would answer my curiosity.

Sucking his cock just once would make me a cock sucker.

Sucking his cock just once might get it out of my system.

Sucking his cock just once would allow my son to resume sucking his cock.

Sucking his cock just once would change everything.

The uber arrived and I got in.

At 12:50 I arrived at his street.





There was a clump of vehicles adjacent to his house.

Both the porch lights and the inside ones were on.

He wasn’t alone.

From the noise, it was a boisterous party in there.


God, I wanted to suck Jamal’s cock.

God, I needed to suck his cock.

Yet I knew I shouldn’t.

Knew I should call the uber back.

Go home.

Go to bed.

Stay straight.

Be morally right.

I got another text: Cock is hard and loaded and I’m in the backyard. Are you keeping your reservation, or am I summoning one of your colleagues?

Now or never.






Eve took a bite out of the juicy apple of sin, and I was about to take a suck off of a big juicy chocolate treat.

My body overrode my mind (my legs and cock deciding on my behalf) as I felt myself walking towards the house. Yep, definitely a wild party. Was Ben in there? Even if so, I wouldn’t be barging through the door this time.

I turned to the side and walked into the backyard, my cock raging, my mouth watering and my head spinning.

The gate clanged shut behind me so loudly that I jumped.

“Right on time,” Jamal said, sitting in a lawn chair.

I didn’t say anything.

What was there to say?

“Hungry?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I whispered sheepishly.

“For what?” he asked, smugly.

“I don’t know,” I lied.

“Come to me,” he ordered.

I obeyed, walking to him.


I did.

“So why are you here?” he asked.

“Don’t make me say it,” I said, humiliation burning through me… yet all I wanted at the moment was for him to fish out that cock.

“Okay, then güvenilir bahis şirketleri show me what you want,” he said gently, almost kindly.

I was thankful he wasn’t going to humiliate me. I soundlessly moved my hands to his shorts and unbuttoned them.

He lifted his ass up as I unzipped his shorts and I pulled them down.

Like me, he wasn’t wearing underwear.

Although he wasn’t in pantyhose.

“Take your own pants down, too,” he ordered, as I stared at his BBC; it wasn’t hard at all.

“I’d rather not,” I said, not wanting to let him see I was wearing pantyhose.

“You’re here because you need to submit. Allowing you to disobey me would not be a good start.”

“Couldn’t I just suck you?” I asked, sounding pathetic.

“A cock sucker does as he is told, and believe me when I say deep down, you wouldn’t have it any other way,” he explained. “So take your pants off. I want to see if your tiny white cock is hard.”

Strangely, he sounded more like a ther****t than a dom. A pushy ther****t, but still.

“It is,” I admitted.

“Show me,” he ordered.

I sighed.

I stood up, unbuckled my belt, unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them down.

He chuckled. “Cute.”

“I wear them to remember my wife,” I justified.

“Sure you do,” he said, before adding, giving me a compliment of sorts, “Decent sized cock for a white guy, though.”

“Thanks,” I said, unsure what else to say.

“So Mr. James Barry, are you ready to become a cock sucker?”

“Yes,” I nodded lowering myself back down before him, my pants around my ankles.

“Yes, what?” he asked, exerting his power over me and yet somehow seeming supportive as if a black teen Dr. Ruth for straight men discovering who they really are.

I stared at his cock.

I wanted to see it at full mast.

I wanted to feel it harden in my mouth.

I needed to suck it.

I was already on my knees.

I was already kneeling before him with a hard on wedged against my pantyhose.

Any pretense I wouldn’t do this had long gone… the line was already crossed.

I replied, “Yes, I’m ready to suck your BBC.”

‘What does that acronym stand for?”

“Big black cock,” I answered, staring at it like Indiana Jones stared at the Holy Grail.

“And you want to suck my big black cock?”


“Yes, what?” he continued exercising his power over me… my humiliation.

“Yes, I want to suck your big, fat cock until you come all over me or inside my mouth,” I replied, embellishing my litany even further… giving in completely.

“Just like your son?”

“Yes, just like my cock sucking son,” I added, not sure why I decided to belittle him further .

“Suck it, Mr. James Barry,” he ordered as if by doing so I was signing a contract.

“Thank you,” I responded ridiculously as I reached for his flaccid cock.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Cock Sucker,” he chuckled, amused by my overly submissive demeanor.

Shame and lust burned through me, lust winning once again, as I stroked his thick cock, leaned forward and took it in my mouth.

It felt so weird.

Yet so natural.

Although I’d never sucked a cock before, nor even considered it before yesterday (God, was it only yesterday I walked in on my son with this BBC in his mouth?), this action seemed to be in my DNA.

To bob.


To feel it hardening in my mouth.

Like magic.

Because of me.

It was growing in my mouth.

Stretching my mouth.

I perabet güvenilir mi was in awe of his cock.

In awe of my act.

My cock rock hard in my pantyhose. Yes, mine. Mary didn’t need them anymore.

Horny as fuck.

Hornier than I can ever remember being.

“That’s it, Mr. BBC Cum Bucket,” he said in that firm masculine stereotypical black voice which made me oddly think of Samuel L. Jackson in Shaft. I bet he has a big one, I thought to myself, and then couldn’t believe what had popped into my head.

I kept bobbing until it was completely hard inside my mouth. Or by now only partly in my mouth. I took it out briefly and said, in fascination of its dark powerful beauty, “Your cock is so big.”

“You like my black cock?”

“I love it,” I answered in a cock daze.

“You’ll be my personal cock sucker whenever I need you?” he asked, again like a litany, as I stroked his now fully erect almost ten-inch cock (I would guess)… double the length of mine.

I didn’t think of future consequences, didn’t ponder the risks of his using me at school or perhaps in front of my son; no, all I was thinking was how badly I wanted this cock right now, and knew I’d want it again. I replied unconditionally, “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” he asked, standing up.

“Yes, I’ll be your personal cock sucker any time, any place,” I agreed.

“I plan to fuck that ass of yours too,” he revealed, as he slid his hard cock back into my mouth.

I was so happy he did.

I desperately wanted to suck that lovely cock.

I also wanted to avoid agreeing to being sodomized, which at the moment if pressed, I would have agreed to with without hesitation.

I began bobbing faster… gradually taking more and more of the teenager’s BBC into my mouth.

“You’re a natural, Mr. Barry,” he said, using my real last name so formally being a reminder of our reversal of the normal student-teacher hierarchy. “It’s hard to believe you haven’t sucked a cock before.”

I kept bobbing, wanting to be a good cock sucker.

Wanting to get his load.

“I’m going to fuck this face at school, shoot my load all over you in front of your faggot son, and bend you over so I can pound that back-door pussy of yours,” he continued his verbal humiliation.

I made it worse by moaning each time he listed a future degradation.

I moved my free hand to my raging cock.

“Did I give you permission to touch your tiny dick?” he scolded, pulling his cock out of my mouth.

Desperately I apologized, “I’m so sorry, sir. Sucking your big, juicy, fat, black cock has me so pathetically horny.”

“Because you’re my cock sucker?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m your eager cock-sucking cum bucket,” I agreed, adding to my own personal patheticness (Yes, I know that isn’t a word, but it seems to work better than pathetictivity).

“And you’re my faggot?” he pushed on.

“Yes, your sissy faggot,” I agreed. With each humiliation, I paradoxically felt more comfortable in my own skin.

“You’ll wear pantyhose every day from now on: at school, with your buddies, anytime you’re not bathing, sleeping or fucking,” he ordered. “For your late wife’s sake, of course,” he added ironically.

“Yes, sir,” I agreed, that being something I would eagerly do.

“And silky pink panties,” he added.

“Yes, sir,” I repeated, the idea actual a turn on.

He slid his cock back in my mouth and slowly perabet giriş face fucking me said, “You only get to come after all the black cocks around willing to deposit their load in or on you are finished, is that clear?”

He pulled out as I gagged a bit and repeated my new mantra, “Yes, sir.”

“But you may come from an ass fucking anytime you can ,” he added, sliding his cock back in my mouth.

I furiously began bobbing… wanting every inch in my mouth even though I wasn’t sure that was a possibility.

Just over half in, and I gagged a little.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Black Cock Lover,” he said, “with enough practice you’ll be able to take it all.”

I kept bobbing.

“You’ve heard the saying before,” he added, “a big black cock a day, keeps the white sissy cock sucker gay.”

I would have smirked if I could as he played on the original meaning of gay… meaning happy.

As I bobbed, once again my mind went blank… my only purpose being to please… to get that load of cum out of those big black balls.

I wasn’t a teacher.

I wasn’t a dad.

I wasn’t even an adult.

I was a cock sucker.

And somehow that just made sense.

I got almost seven inches in my mouth before he pulled out and informed me, “The first load always goes on the face.”

Like a cum hungry slut, I begged, “Yes please, shoot that big load all over my face.”

“God, you’re a good faggot,” he chuckled, as he rapidly stroked his cock in a final sprint.

“For BBC,” I pointed out, opening my mouth wide, hoping to catch some cum in my mouth… curious what cum would taste like.

“Of course,” he said, then grunted, adding, “close your mouth,” before the first cannon blast scored a direct hit in my open right eye as I obeyed.

I closed both eyes, but it was too late, as the surprisingly warm cum splattered my face.

Like a warm bath.

When he was done he ordered, “Don’t move.”

I obeyed.

A moment later, he asked, “Want more BBC?”

“Yes,” I admitted, without hesitation, one BBC not enough to satisfy my insatiable lust.

“I have a few buddies inside,” he said, as I cautiously opened my left eye.

“Do I know any of them?” I asked, as my right eye stung a bit from the cum. (My left eye was fine.)

“A couple,” he nodded, before adding, “but they also know about the other seven BBC-loving faculty members.”

“Oh,” I said, wondering who they were.

“One of them is likely full of cock right now,” he added.

“I’m not sure,” I said, desperate for more cum, but unsure I was ready to be outed to some more students.

“Whatever,” he shrugged. “But keep in mind you had no clue about any of your colleagues being cum hungry BBC sissies and sluts until you became one too. Our secret society is very secretive.”

“Secret society?” I asked, wondering which colleagues were like me.

“There’s a society consisting of hundreds of BBCs in this city and thousands of us in the country that are willing to offer their special member to white women, white cock suckers and white sissies. Well, and to other races as well,” he revealed.

“Oh,” I said, unable to imagine such a society.

“There’s an app,” he added.

“No way,” I said.

“BBC4Me,” he revealed, as he put his cock away.

“Nice,” I laughed, already knowing I’d be checking out this app.

“Sign up and you’ll get all the BBC you want,” he said. He then added, “Or just come inside and you can get blacked all night.”

“Blacked?” I said, partly as a question and partly as an implied smile, thinking of the Blacked app.

“Yeah,” he said as if inviting a buddy in for drinks, “come on in, we both know you want to.”

I stood up.

“…and need to,” he added.

Of course he was right.

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