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Sweet Black Ass by Will
As a photojournalist on assignment, I had traveled to this militant housing compound just outside Detroit, Michigan. It housed nearly three hundred Islamic Afrikan Americans whose recent political antics had begun to invite national media interest, and I was there to try to get to the crux of their furor.
The Movement was headed by some 38-year-old, would-be prophet, who wanted drastic social change in America. His credo was that a horrendously catastrophic occurrence had to take place in America before any kind of valid, wholly beneficial social/cultural/political change for “all people” could be realized. And he was loudly declaring that he was “a vehicle” sent to precipitate that catastrophe.
At the outset, their protests had been the usual outcry against racial/social injustice and a demand for equality. But lately there seemed to have been some radical Islamic infiltration with the movement, which resulted in a bit of newsworthy insurgencies. So I was there to ferret out to what degree that radical Islamic influence was; and to what degree they had planned to travel with their revolutionary premise.
I spotted Khashdar. He was carrying a several books as he stepped out of a corner grocery store. I waved Hello and he came bounding over. He is a magnificent example of Afrikan American adolescence; sort of an angelic brown jewel in a sea of angry, disillusioned Black faces. I had interviewed him the other day when I began my assignment here. He was the nineteen year old brother of Sansarkhan, the would-be, 38-year-old prophet. And although Khashdar visibly had the posturing and swagger of a thug, he seemed to be far more evolved, intellectually and culturally, than most of the young addicts, alcoholics, drops-outs and religious freaks that comprised the personality makeup of the militant followers at the compound.
“Yo, Mr. Pruitt, how are ya?” he smiled, “How’s your work going? Have you found what you’re looking for yet?”
“I’m fine, Khashdar. And please, call me Mark. And, no, I haven’t found what I’m looking for. I really don’t understand your brother at all.”
Khashdar laughed. “Few people do, my friend. Sansarkhan is as deep as the sea; as vast of the universe. You will never be able to understand what lies behind that vast inscrutable consciousness of his.”
I looked at Khashdar. He had the same smooth, subtle, sensuous tone in his voice as his older brother. But he was obviously more in tune with rational thought. “Why are you here?” I asked him. “What’s in it for you?”
Khashdar shrugged. ‘What else is there for me? I was born and bred to be part of this Day of Reckoning cause. There is nothing else in the world for me but this”
“And that’s the way everybody else around here feels, isn’t it?” I asked.
Khashdar nodded in agreement.
“Then tell me, Khashdar, what REALLY are you all fighting for?”
“We are fighting to obtain equality in a land that continually marginalizes us. We feel like refugees in our own land. With the labour of our mighty backs, we built this land. Therefore we should participate in the immense prosperity and inordinate wealth of this land. And we will not rest until we are all able to live in financial equity, peace and harmony with our White brothers. And if some phenomenal earthly transfiguration should have to occur to aid us in our crusade, then, so be it“
It was obvious that Khashdar had been stuffed to gills with Sansarkhan’s rhetoric. He wasn’t able to provide me with any real and valid insight to Sansarkhan’s military crusade. Yet, I really liked Khashdar. He was so bright and amiable. And without doubt, he was really a sexy-sexy little brown somethin’.
I invited him back to my hotel room. “If you don’t mind, I want to ask you some more questions about your brother’s philosophy” I smiled. “There are just a few more things I would like to know, ok? And besides, lunch is on me; how’s that sound!?”
Khashdar offered up a huge generous smile at me and said ‘sure’, and followed me to my jeep. I wanted him. I really wanted him. He stirred my juices the way no other male had in all my 29 years. It was bizarre. It was beautiful. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. His thin, hairless, nineteen year old body looked exceptionally gorgeous as it glistened radiantly brown in the burning, summer afternoon sun.
When we neared the hotel I told him to toss on a sweatshirt that I had on the backseat of my jeep. That way I could avoid any unnecessary stares when we walked through the lobby.
Entering my hotel room, I told Khashdar to take a seat on the couch as I walked on toward the mini fridge to get a couple of cans of cold soda pop.
But the very bright and highly intuitive Khashdar knew what I had in mind, and swiftly threw his arms around my waist and began grinding his hard young body against mine.
Wow! I didn’t expect it to be so easy. He was really a hot number. I could feel his burning, rigid prick within those baggy jeans, pressing hard and urgent, poking into my thigh. Leaning back, I un-did my necktie, as he swiftly pulled off the old sweatshirt. He then helped me unbutton my shirt, sensuously sliding the shirt off my back. Even though he looked like a teenage thug, he was so graceful, so gentle. I reached for his head and held it in my hands for a while, gazing into his beautiful, sparkling, brown eyes; brown eyes that so eloquently burned with searing jungle lust.
I kissed him. I kissed Khashdar hard, pulling him to me. I kissed Khashdar hard and long for a long time.
It was awesome. So glowing and warm and so damn good. I explored the cool, seductive mouth of this young, intelligent Afrikan prince, swishing my searching tongue over his teeth and tongue, slowly probing into his throat. He was small. Five-foot seven to my six-feet.
I had never before held anyone who wasn’t bigger than myself. Khashdar kissed me back, albeit somewhat awkwardly. I could tell from his insecure lip movements that he hadn't had much experience in this department, if any at all. But he was certainly a willing pupil. His degree of sexuality was exceptional.
My dick was raging wildly inside my damp boxers. I was hot! Khashdar reached for my belt buckle and undid it, almost yanking my pants off with one tug. Then as he undid the belt around his baggy jeans, they fell to the floor, rapidly revealing the most magnificent ebony body I had ever seen.
Just as his baggy jeans had dropped, so did Khashdar drop, to his knees, and rapidly took my angry cock into his hands; stroking it, squeezing it, caressing it, until it felt as though the cock had stretched beyond the limits of the skin that contained it. Never before in all my twenty-nine years had I seen my prick so shiny and so fucking stiff. It hurt so damn good!
He put his mouth on my raging, quaking prick, covering the head with an avalanche of hot little kisses. In my growing delirium I looked down to check out his boner. I was surprised at the size of the hefty member, as it sliced the air between his trim, muscular, chocolate brown legs. I was even more surprised that he was uncut. I’d never encountered an uncut American adult male before, let alone an uncut, American teenager. Reaching down and grabbing him under the arms, I pulled him up. I then took my turn at doing knee-duty. As my face came in contact with the huge member I was completely mesmerized by the strong, intoxicating aroma of young black male’s sexual arousal. Wow! My eyes literally teared with the scent of happiness. Trembling, I stroked and kissed that big, black dong while Khashdar moaned and groaned and wildly thrust his trim body into my face.
This position was too uncomfortable. I wanted to lie down, wrap my arms around Khashdar, and feel his hard, young, black body next to mine.
Frantically picking him up, I carried him to the bed. Laying him on his back, I instantly scooted down between his legs to get at that humongous cock again. I sniffed it, kissed it, licked, and loved it. Actually, it was even a little bigger than mine, and Khashdar was ten years my junior. I felt a pang of jealousy shoot through me, the way it always did, whenever I encountered a cock bigger than my own. Its pure vanity I know, but I simply can't help myself.
I finally had to taste Khashdar’s cock. I wanted that black truncheon inside my mouth being savored by my salivating tongue and lips. The strong pungent aroma of the youngster’s genitals seduced me onward as I hungrily massaged his sweaty, cum-bloated balls.
My cock was throbbing and burning so pleasurably, that it was difficult for me to think about anything at all. I didn’t want this feeling to ever end. It was the happiest I’d ever been during sex.
I was completely fascinated by the kid’s foreskin and the delicious scent that it concealed. Yet, it seemed to me to be the strangest thing I’d ever seen. It was hard to believe that at one time I had a foreskin myself at one time, and it had been cut off.
The foreskin was fairly tight around Khashdar’s dick. It could slide up and down rather easily though. I was able to slide it up far enough to even cover the head of Khashdar’s cock, cover it completely! Wow. Strange…but delicious!
All this inspective attention to his foreskin seemed to excite Khashdar to no end. Every time I brought the foreskin over the head, he would close his eyes, squirm wildly about on the bed, and hotly mutter sensuous sounds that I didn’t understand. He was loving it!
He licked his full sensuous lips with pleasure. I licked his tasty foreskin with lust. I slipped my tongue up inside the skin, sliding it up and down with my lips. Then I went to work on the shiny, bulbous head of that phenomenal dick. I had neglected it for a while, not letting my mouth touch it. But it was touching it now. My lips were wrapped around the head, and I was greedily sucking on the shiny black cock now.
Ordinarily, I don’t like giving blowjobs at all. I can’t take a cock very far into my mouth without it triggering my gag-reflex. And I can’t deep-throat at all. It makes me a little embarrassed. But I wasn’t going to get embarrassed now. I was going to more than make up for my past deficiencies in the throat department. I was going to make Khashdar’s cockhead throb like never before, make his dick happily ache like never before.
I slid the foreskin up over the top once more, then greedily popped the dick in and out of my drooling mouth. Khashdar squirmed and moaned loudly in ecstasy from that thrilling friction of his dick being so rapidly slipped in and out of my hot, tight, slobbering mouth.
In a way I was fucking his dick with my ‘pussy’ of a mouth. Not all the way, of course, but the head of the penis is the most sensitive part, and that’s where I always concentrate my attention. I would let his dick slide in only as far as the ridge of the head, then I would tightly hold it there, tickling Khashdar’s pee-hole with my tongue. Then, I’d let the dick slide out again. In and out. In and out. I kept this steady rhythm up for a while, until I knew that Khashdar was on the edge of exploding. Right when he was going to burst, I switched into high gear.
I was flailing on that dick now, applying immense heated pressure on the head. Khashdar moaned in crazed, rapturous pleasure. He cried out something - screamed something - in an Islamic tongue. I winched for a moment, embarrassed that his loud screams of pleasure might be overheard.
But, damn, I wasn’t going to let anything stop me now. I too was in my own zone of heightened sexual exhilaration. Methodically, I fondled Khashdar’s balls in one grateful hand, and stroked his foreskin with the other. It was like a three ring circus. Khashdar couldn’t quite fully concentrate on any one particular sensation at once. They all pleasurably blended together for him. Right hand – balls. Left hand – shaft and foreskin. Mouth – on the head
Nobody’s dick can stand up to that kind of attack for very long. Khashdar’s was no exception. That creamy cum came blasting out of his expanding pee hole. I drew my mouth away and let it splatter the ceiling and the wall behind the bed -- also using it as a lubricant for my stroking left hand that still happily pumped the erupting shaft. I also took my mouth away, because I don’t like to swallow cum. I don’t know why, but I just never have. It’s so hot and salty. Sure, I’ve done it a few times, but it was only when someone had shot into my mouth when I wasn’t expecting it.
Khashdar threw his arms over his head, his eyes tightly closed from the mind-blasting ecstasy, as he stretched and arched his tight, muscular little body high on the bed, rapturously experiencing all those tingling sensations that his explosive orgasm had produced from the top of is head to the tips of his toes.
He had the most wonderful smile on his face when he finally opened his eyes after his rapture. I could tell that I’d given the teenager one of the best, if not the best, orgasm he’d ever had in his young life. Reaching up, he placed his hands on my shoulders and kissed my forehead. He was so generous and loving. So grateful for the attention I’d given him. Sitting up on the bed, we embraced again.
“I want you to fuck me.” he whispered. “I want to feel you inside me!”
It was difficult for me to believe what I was hearing from this macho little street warrior. With all given outward appearances, he would be the one who wanted to do the fucking. But, he apparently knew what he wanted. He wanted to be fucked.
Scrambling to the middle of the bed, he positioned himself doggie-style, his firm, round cheeks spread wide, as his slightly hairy little asshole repeatedly winked at me.
Aaaaaaah, yeah! What a sight.
Slowly, ever so slowly I introduced my forefinger inside that tight, tiny hole. My big prick was aching and quaking at the sight and scent of that sweet, puckered anus that was hungrily begging to be fucked, for the first time. He said he had never allowed anyone to touch him sexually before and had wanted me to be the first. And, for whatever reason I knew that to be the truth.
I couldn’t wait to feel myself inside the hot, handsome, chocolate-brown teenager, feeling my dick pounding hard against those sweet, virginal inner walls.
After a few minutes of loosening his sphincter, I dropped some spit on my cock that was already oozing huge amounts of pre-come, which really would be lubricant enough.
“Oh, Fuck me, man! Please, please!” he feverishly moaned, frantically wiggling his little butt, “Fill me up!”
He was hot. The heat rose up from that black satiny body in abundant waves. His ass was so small, round and tight. I ran my hands across those firm, velvety buns, as Khashdar moaned and groaned in blissful appreciation, and anticipation.
Bringing my hard, wet, sticky cock up to that sweet moist anus, I pressed against the rectum.
“Yes, oh yes!”
I eased in my bulbous head. Khashdar shuddered briefly with several sudden quick intakes of air; then returned to quietly moaning once again. I worked my dick in slowly, inching it deeper and deeper, feeling his tight asshole gradually expand around my invading cock, widening that innocent entrance until my cock was able to slickly slide in. His ass felt so damn good. I love to fuck virginal boy-pussy.
I was really fucking Khashdar now, fucking him good and hard. My cock was sliding all the way in, buried deep inside his boiling ass. It felt so damn good. I held tightly onto his hot, satiny black hips as I fucked him. Khashdar moaned in utter ecstasy. His arms were flailing and stretching in front of him as he wildly shoved his little ass back into my stiff, intruding prick. He kept muttering words under his breath that I couldn’t make out, but knew they were words expressing his thrill and enjoyment.
We were both getting off, me doing the fucking, and him doing the taking. My cock was slipping in an out of his taut slippery hole with amazing ease now. My cock burned and throbbed with unimagined want. It was aching. It was aching real good! I was loving it, and didn’t want to come too soon. But I couldn’t slow down. I seemed driven by some inner need to brutishly pump Khashdar’s ass as hard as I could. No, it was my cock that was controlling me now, to make me think and act as I did. And my cock wanted satisfaction….. it wanted to come, despite my efforts of trying not to!
“Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah! Hell, yeah” I screamed
I was in heaven. I had left the narrow confines of this earth far behind me. I was floating - I was soaring, on the electric waves of burning lust that mercilessly scattered throughout my body, searing through my brain, and catapulting me far out into the distant intergalactic cosmos.
Oh, no, it was happening. I could feel it burgeoning in my gut, in my balls, and from behind my eyes. I could no longer stop it….could no longer sustain this wondrous, self-transcending bliss. My cock was exploding. It was erupting magnificently! A glorious burst of sizzling fireworks. Oh yeah! Oh Yeah! Oh Yeeeaaahhhhhh!
Two hours later, as I drove Khashdar back the ten-block distance to his brother’s militant housing compound, I realized that I was going to learn more about Black people than I had ever imagined possible; especially from one person in particular.