Gay Black Stud Slays White Bottoms

Now let’s get something straight (pardon the pun). I love girls. I love looking at them; I love their lips wrapped around my cock; and I love the feeling of my cock buried deep in their tight pussies or round asses. But I still get a major thrill from taking a straight man and making him a cocksucking faggot and bottom loving homo. Philosophically, I am not gay. I have never sucked a cock or taken a cock in my ass…although I have fucked many, many men. My cock doesn’t see a distinction between a male mouth and a female mouth: both are capable of being great cocksuckers. My cock also doesn’t care if it is buried in a woman’s pussy or buried deep inside a man’s ass, or as I insist on calling it, his man-pussy.

Now getting a woman on her knees is rather easy and fun as well, but getting some straight man who has never even considered being with a man, on his knees is for some reason my biggest turn-on.

There are many reasons for this. Firstly, being a faggot is still considered by many as wrong, even though being a dyke is considered ok. So the whole taboo thing is fun.

Secondly, I have learned from experience that men are better cocksuckers than women. Just like I assume dykes ate better pussy pleasers than men. The reason is obvious: same sex lovers are playing with the same delicate and complicated equipment.

Thirdly, the utter humiliation and, yet, lust in a man’s eyes, when he finally succumbs to me is just exhilarating.

Fourthly, the thrill of making a straight man my personal fuck-toy is the greatest feeling ever.

Lastly, once you have topped a straight man, he is addicted to you and a reliable cum depositary forever. I have dozens of bottoms scattered throughout America and even a few in other countries that are always available whenever I am there.

As for me, I am 6’4, 240 pounds of pure muscle, and have a nine-inch cock. I also should note I am black as night which also seems to play in my favour. For white girls, I am the forbidden chocolate they crave and once they get a taste they are addicted. Every white girl is curious if the legend of the big black cock is true…which for me it is. For white men, I am the powerful figure they can never live up to. I have never had a problem getting laid since I was a teenager, and playing professional football, although only briefly, (a knee injury ended my career prematurely) meant I had pussy pretty much fall in my lap without any effort at all…and also gave me many opportunities to top some faggot-to-be.

MY FIRST CONQUEST: PREP BOY

My first time was an accident!

I was in high school, grade 12, and eighteen years old when I first topped a guy. I was helping out with prom decorations as a favour to my girlfriend of the moment, a cheerleader with big tits and a ferocious sexual appetite, when it happened.

By ten that night there were only three of us still finishing set-up when my girlfriend’s mom called, insisting she get home and get a good sleep for tomorrow’s prom. I was pretty disappointed because I had expected to release a load in her before dropping her off.

Eric, our school President and the biggest prep there was, offered to give me a ride home. I reluctantly agreed when my girlfriend pleaded I stay and finish the last few decorations…promising me she would make it worth my while tomorrow…as she whispered in my ear, “I have one more hole to give you.”

My cock immediately grew at the thought of anal sex. As my girlfriend wandered away, I adjusted my erect cock and as I looked at Eric he quickly looked away, as if ashamed to see me catch him looking at the bulging package in my pants. I joked, “Fuck, Karen is such a tease. I was sure I was getting a blowjob at the very least tonight.”

He didn’t respond, and continued working on the last of the decorations. I don’t know why or how I knew, but I just did. I have come to call it my Bottom Sense: my keen ability to sense when a guy is gay curious, even if he doesn’t know yet. Eric was the most popular non-jock white kid in our school. I don’t know how I knew, but I was instantly confident I could have him sucking me off by night’s end.

I finished helping him with the last of the decorations. I climbed the ladder while he spotted for me. On my way down the ladder, I stopped intentionally when my still hard cock was at his eye level. As I expected, he didn’t immediately look away and I asked, cocky, like I would with a chick I was attempting to get in bed, “Like what you see?” I adjusted my cock again inside my pants.

“What?” he replied, pretending I hadn’t caught him taking a long look at my bulge in my pants.

I got off the ladder and went to one of the mannequins that were part of the decorations (I still have no idea why the decoration committee had mannequins). I grabbed a long blonde wig and suggested we get out of here.

Once in the car, I handed him the wig. Eric looked at me, confused.

“Put it on,” I ordered, with just a hint of authority.

“W-w-why?” he stuttered.

Going for broke, I answered, “Because I want you to look like a chick when you are sucking my big cock.”

His eyes went big and he defended himself, “I am not gay.”

I smiled, pulling my big nine-inch black snake out from its restrictive prison, “My cock doesn’t care if you are gay, straight or bi. But it does expect you to suck it like you know you want to.”

He stammered, unable to take his eyes off my long impressive erection, “B-b-but….”

“No buts, Erica,” I interrupted, giving him a new name, creating a new persona for him. One I believed would help him overcome his stereotypical male reputation and succumb to his real desire: to be a faggot. Again, I don’t know how I knew, but I was sure I was right. I finished by demanding, “Now put the wig on, Erica, and suck my cock.”

He looked so nervous, yet also excited, I assume, to finally do something he had craved for a long time. He put on the wig, his hands trembling slightly. I purred, “Good girl, Erica. When you have your wig on Eric ceases to exist and Erica, your slutty cocksucking alter ego, comes fully alive.”

This seemed to be the push he needed and he slowly leaned over and down towards my cock. He stopped, his head just above my lap. Needing the final push to become a faggot, I pushed his head gently onto my waiting cock. His mouth was warm and he surprised me by worshipping my cock. He used his tongue and swirled around my cock-head. I moaned, “That’s it, Erica. Your pretty mouth feels so good on my big hard cock.”

This seemed to help him as he began to slowly take more of my cock in his mouth. He got about half my cock in his mouth and after a tentative start began bobbing up and down on my cock. Watching the prep suck my cock was incredibly hot and the thrill of making him suck me was exhilarating. I moaned, pushing him further down the road of cocksucking, “Keep sucking Erica, I am going to shoot my hot seed down your throat.”

There was a brief pause, I assumed as he realized what was soon going to happen, before he resumed cocksucking and actually picked up the pace.

A few more minutes of the faggot’s eager mouth and I was ready to shoot my load. I groaned a warning, “Don’t you spill any of my cum, faggot.” It was the first time I had verbally degraded him and it only seemed to turn him on as he sped up the pace just as I coated his throat with my cum. I noticed a slight gagging sound, but the faggot somehow obeyed and swallowed all my seed. He continued to move up and down on my cock, although slower, well after I was spent. I could tell he had no idea what to do next, so he just continued his subservient act.

I finally said, “Drive me home, faggot.”

He quickly sat back up, his bright red cheeks a clear symbol of his humiliation at what he had just done, and he started driving, never once looking my way.

I asked, curious, although I was pretty sure I knew the answer already, “Have you sucked cock before, faggot?”

He shook his head no.

“Why did you suck my cock, faggot?”

He whispered, “Please don’t call me faggot.”

“But you are one, are you not?” I asked.

“No,” he said.

“Really, you just sucked my cock and swallowed my cum. I am pretty sure that makes you a faggot,” I concluded.

“I have a girlfriend,” he countered.

“So?”

“So I am not gay,” he argued, still refusing to look at me.

We arrived at my house and I decided to let it go and closed with, “For the record, you gave a better blow job your first time than Karen ever has.” His face went red from the compliment and I thought I saw a small smile, but it quickly disappeared. I added, “So here is the deal. If you decide you are straight, we will pretend this never happened and I promise I will never mention it again. On the other hand, if you decide you are a faggot, which you are Erica, then I will be more than willing to use your cocksucking mouth as a place to shoot my wad. I usually cum two or three times a day, so I almost always have a load ready to deposit.”

I put my cock away and opened the door, adding one last biting shot, “Thanks for the ride, cocksucker.”

I left him alone to deal with what he had done, pretty confident that I had a new mouth to fuck when I needed one.

*****

Next day was prom and I eagerly looked forward to Karen’s promise of some anal sex. The school day dragged by like they always do. It finally ended and Karen went with her friends to get all dolled up. I was just leaving my locker when I saw Eric coming another way. A slight smile curved up on my face as I anticipated his submission to me. He looked up at me and seemed genuinely surprised to see me. His face went beet red and his facial expression portrayed his shame as well.

I greeted him. “Hey, Eric.”

He looked away a bit, avoiding eye contact, “Hey, Jim.”

I asked, giving him a chance to admit the truth, knowing he was way too shy to bring it up, “So have you had time to consider my proposal?”

He didn’t answer immediately, so I just shrugged and walked away. I wanted him to have to say it, to admit it. I had walked less then fifteen feet when he called out, “Jim, wait.”

I suppressed a smile and turned around. He walked over to me as timid as a mouse. “I want to do it again.”

I said, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he answered, actually making eye contact.

“Well, I happen to have the package you need here with me,” I answered slyly, as another student passed by, completely oblivious that his School President was submitting to me as my personal cocksucker. “Is there a place we can go?”

He looked around and said, “Follow me.”

I did and he led me to a small storage room in the back of the gym I didn’t even know existed. It was full of props, candy, costumes and labelled boxes. He closed the door and locked it.

Deciding to not waste time, I ordered, “On your knees, faggot.”

He quickly obeyed like the submissive faggot I was sure he was.

“Now, I just want to make this clear. The first blowjob had no consequences; it was just me shooting my load in your curious mouth. But now the second load comes with strings attached,” I revealed, unbuckling my pants.

His eyes went big, although I was unsure if it was excitement because I was pulling out my big black cock, or nervousness as I prepared to explain the way it was going to be.

When he didn’t respond, I tapped my fully erect cock on his lips and asked, “So have you accepted the reality that you are my faggot?”

He whispered, “No.”

“No, you are not a faggot?” I asked.

“I like girls too,” he defended.

“So you are just my faggot?” I clarified.

“I guess,” he reluctantly accepted.

“Just a faggot for my big black cock?” I pushed.

“Yes,” he admitted, staring at my cock. He was transfixed by my cock, his transformation from popular school leader to white cocksucker faggot about to occur.

“Just so you understand, as soon as your faggot lips wrap around my cock you become my personal faggot.”

“W-w-what?” he stammered, looking up from his submissive position.

“The first taste was free, the second one makes you my faggot, my personal cocksucker.” I made it simple for him.

He looked at me confused, clearly trying to understand the implications of my last words.

I clarified my conditions, “Simply put, faggot, you will be my back-up cocksucker. If I call you, you get your fairy ass to me as soon as you can. “

“Oh,” he uttered, clarity of consequence suddenly hitting him.

I rubbed my cock on his lips, making the temptation to please me harder to resist. I offered my cock to him, “Become my faggot, Eric. We both know you want to.”

He looked up, “And no one will know?”

Knowing he was mine, I gave him the comfort he needed. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Suddenly, he opened his mouth and took my cock between his lips. My smile broadened, “Good girl, you will make a very good little faggot, won’t you?” He moaned what I assumed was a yes, but I wanted him to say it, to acknowledge it to me. “I will only ask you this one more time, are you a faggot?”

He looked up, taking my cock out of his mouth, “Yes, I am your faggot.”

“My white cocksucker.”

“Yes, your white cocksucker,” he repeated and surprised me when he added, “I love your big hard black cock.” He took my stiff rod back in his mouth and began a slow simmering blowjob. It was easily the best blow-job I had ever received; unlike the girls who have blown me, he seemed to worship my cock. Also, unlike most chicks, he didn’t whine about me being too big or that his jaw was sore. He just kept a steady rhythm. Feeling my balls beginning to bubble, I decided to mark my property the best way possible, a facial. Once I was close, I pulled out and began pumping my cock with my fist. I ordered, “Beg for my cum, faggot.”

Caught in the moment and clearly horny from his naughty taboo act of submission, he begged rather convincingly for my cum. “I need your cum. Spray your cum all over your faggot’s face.”

I obliged, almost simultaneously exploding gob after gob of my cum onto my faggot’s face. Insatiable, my cum-hungry faggot, my cum all over his face, took my cock back into his mouth. I reached for my phone deciding to capture this moment forever and demanded, “Smile, faggot,”

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