Black Cock Turns Straight White Man Gay Pt 2

When he finally came, he pulled out of my mouth and painted both our faces. Samuel and I looked at each other through the mess, two straight white men on their knees for the same black cock, and neither of us looked away.
Part 1
*****
I wasn’t gay. I was just a white cocksucker.
That sentence kept repeating in my head as I swallowed the second load of the morning. The stranger above me grunted, gave one last shallow thrust, then pulled his cock free and zipped up without a word. He left the stall like I was furniture. I stayed on my knees staring at the empty glory hole, jaw aching, lips swollen, the mixed taste of two different men coating my tongue. My own cock throbbed untouched against my thigh.
Doug’s words from minutes earlier still echoed.
I could come by your work sometime today to deposit a load if you like.
I should have been disgusted. Instead I was rock-hard and already imagining it.
I cleaned up as best I could, washed my face twice, and drove to the office in a fog. Every black man I passed on the street made my mouth water. By the time I sat at my desk my balls ached and concentration was impossible.
Janice brought coffee at ten. Blonde, twenty-two, the body that used to star in every fantasy. Today I barely glanced at her cleavage. All I could think about was how thin her lips looked compared to the thick black cocks that had just stretched mine.
At 11:17 my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
You ready for that load, cocksucker?
My heart slammed. Fingers shaking, I typed:
Yes, sir.
Eggerton lobby bathroom. 3rd floor. Now. Door unlocked. Knees.
I stood so fast the chair hit the wall. Janice looked up, startled.
“Mr. Harris? Everything okay?”
“Fine,” I said, hearing Doug’s mocking voice in my head. Fine...