tagGay MaleBlack Cock: 1 Day Changes Everything

Black Cock: 1 Day Changes Everything

bysilkstockingslover©

Summary: Straight married man can't resist black teen's huge cock.

Note 1: This story is dedicated to goamz86 and to making one of his fantasies as real as possible.

Note 2: Thanks to goamz86, Robert, and Wayne for editing this story.

Note 3: Although this story is mostly a GAY interracial story, it is really a much deeper story about one man's lengthy journey of sexual self-discovery. Besides being about a man becoming a cocksucker, it's also about the changing relationship in the bedroom with his lovely wife.

Black Cock: 1 Day Changes Everything

1. THE ACCIDENTAL MOMENT THAT STARTS EVERYTHING

I called it my midlife crisis.

My wife called it her sexual liberation.

My Master called it my destiny.

Regardless of how you labelled it, in the end I became a cocksucker, a bottom and eventually a cuckold.

Now I've read tons of stories on this website about supposedly straight men who see a cock and boom they are no longer straight.

That is not me.

I had never sucked a cock, never been a bottom and never allowed another man to fuck my wife of 20 years.

That didn't mean I hadn't fantasized about it...a lot. It had become somewhat of an obsession, in fact. Yet, fantasy and reality are two very different things.

And in all reality, I can blame author Silkstockingslover for a curiosity that started as a flicker of a spark, but had been growing inside me until it became a fiery inferno that I could barely keep under control.

I really enjoy her stories both because she writes so vividly and because she has a lot of the same fetishes as me.

I mean, who doesn't like a woman in silk stockings?

Her other themes of older women being seduced and turned into submissive pets to eighteen year olds, interracial sex, orgies and anal are all dirty kinks of mine.

So after a few email chats a couple of years ago, I offered to assist by editing her stories. To be truthful I did it mostly to get an early peek at her stories, but I also enjoy editing.

Anyways, I had read her whole extensive, diverse collection, except her she-male and gay stories. I was straight and wasn't remotely interested in reading about faggots or chicks with dicks.

Then I read 'Shemale School' after she suggested that it gave a lot of insight into who she really was as well as her writing process.

Being an erotic writer myself (writing under the pseudonym goamz86), I was curious and I reluctantly promised her I'd read it, although I told myself it was for research.

Well, that promise was the beginning of my journey from straight married guy to cocksucker and bottom to an eighteen year old black man.

As I got immersed in the beautiful, realistic world of an exclusive she-male school, I felt my cock harden. At first I denied it was the she-males but rather the idea of my favourite author becoming a submissive slut for cock...a fantasy I had long envisioned for myself after reading her stories, checking out her brief bio and the sexy picture of her legs in nylons.

Yet, as I read the many hot sex scenes starring she-males with big cocks I began to wonder what it would be like to be with a she-male: at first, I imagined fucking one from behind in her ass, but over time I had dreams of being forced to suck a she-male's cock, just like Jasmine had in the story. It seemed less gay since these cocks were attached to guys made up to look like chicks...and they had tits.

I should note that I have a bit of a small cock inferiority complex. My cock is five inches hard and very thin. My wife had never complained, but I couldn't get her off by fucking her, but only by eating her out or using toys. She stressed, for years, that it had nothing to do with the size of my cock, but was simply the way she got off.

Of course, I often wondered if she was lying to protect my fragile manhood.

So, when Jasmine sent me a gay story to edit, 'Straight Cocksucker'. I figured no big deal. Usually her stories turn me on and lead to a jerk off session, a blow job from my wife who still loves giving head after all these years, or even a fuck. So I figured I would just edit it for the sake of editing.

As with her shemale story, I felt my cock rising the more I read, beginning to imagine that the straight protagonist was somehow me. Like the protagonist, I hadn't considered sex with another man, yet the scenario, so simple, so day-to-day, and the vivid description of the black cock had me intrigued.

I mean I didn't immediately become obsessed with sucking cock or being a bottom with one read, but over time I read all her gay stories as well, each one making me more and more curious.

I then read other gay stories, and became even more enthralled by interracial gay stories and inevitably began looking up pictures of black cocks.

I couldn't explain it, still can't, but somehow a black cock is beautiful to look at. They are almost majestic, especially long, thick ones (which are plentiful).

This, of course, led to watching gay porn, although most of it is terribly done. At least some lesbian or straight porn has some semblance of a story, but apparently gay porn is suck and fuck...and that didn't turn me on. So I returned to reading gay erotica.

What turned me on the most was the mindset of a straight man. Usually, a simple moment triggers a curiosity (walking in on a gay act, for example), and once the spark is lit, the flame is bound to grow and grow until it consumes your very being.

The slow, yet growing undeniable desire to fall to your knees, to ignore socially excepted norms and take a cock in your mouth...especially a black cock...and eventually shift from cocksucker to faggot when you allow your back door to be drilled. In my mind, once the door is open it's like the apple and Eve, it can't be taken back, it can only be resisted...but only for so long.

So with all these thoughts in my head, a year passed by with my curiosity only growing and growing.

Then my accidental moment occurred, and like in the fictional stories, the flame was ignited like a prairie fire.

It was late in the Pop Warner football conference championship game and we were down by four (I coach middle school football), we had the ball with fifteen seconds left at their five yard line. I was already livid with the official, a friend of mine, Andy, who had always been very good and impartial. Yet today, a few questionable and a couple outright ridiculous calls had kept our arch enemy, the Cougars, in a game that we should have been winning by a couple TD's.

Then he did it again.

We scored a touchdown on a screen pass and after it was caught, after the other official raised his arms for a touchdown, he threw another flag. I couldn't fathom what the call could be.

He then called holding on us on a number that didn't exist on our team.

I was furious.

On the following play, we were intercepted in the end zone and the game was over.

Although I'm usually a very calm person, I immediately went to him on the field and went ballistic.

Although he said nothing, there was something in his eyes that implied he was sorry.

I finished my rant, shook hands with the other coach and then dealt with the local media. Thankfully, the winning coach went first and actually admitted, "We were the beneficiary of some questionable calls."

That only made me angrier at Andy, although it calmed me down slightly for my time with the media. Once done, I went to the locker room to console a group of young men who had won the game in theory, but not in the box score.

After a ten minute speech, and seeing almost every boy in tears, I decided I needed I find out why.

I left the boys, and walked to the official's room to have a discussion with Andy, an official, like I said earlier, who I thought was the best in the league.

Reaching the official's room, which was on the other side of the field, I found it locked. I sighed, 'He likely got the hell out of Dodge as quickly as he could.'

I grabbed my key. I sometimes officiated as well, and opened the door just in case. I walked in, closed the door, walked around the corner and froze.

Andy, still in his official's uniform with his pants at his ankles, was bent over getting fucked by a black guy who barely looked eighteen.

He didn't see me, because his eyes were closed, but the black teen was smiling at me as he continued fucking Andy.

Andy whimpered, "Oh Godddddd."

The black teenager asked, "Was making all those bad calls worth it?"

"God, yes," Andy moaned, grabbing the bench for support as he got fucked hard.

Although I was in shock and I now knew for sure that we were cheated in the game, the first thought in my head was 'how big is that cock going in and out of Andy's poor stretched ass?'

I watched, somehow paralyzed, as the teen kept pounding away. "Who owns your ass, faggot?"

"You doooo," Andy groaned.

Andy was married to a beautiful woman, had four kids and was an all-around man's man. Yet, there he was eagerly taking a cock up his ass from a teenager.

"And are you enjoying your gift for throwing the game today?" the teenager questioned, smiling smugly at me.

"Soooo much," he groaned, as I watched him shoot his cum all over himself and the floor from getting ass fucked.

"Did my faggot just come from getting his cunt drilled?" He asked, again smiling at me, with a confidence that was unnerving.

"Yessss," Andy groaned, suddenly opening his eyes and realizing I had just witnessed not only his sexual domination, but his declaration of throwing the game.

His mouth dropped open, his already red face somehow went redder...but this time out of humiliation instead of pleasure.

The black teen pulled out of Andy, moved enough so I could see his massive hard black cock as he asked, "So are you a white cocksucker too?"

"P-p-pardon?" I stammered, unable to take my eyes off the huge black dick which almost looked like a third leg.

"Or are you already a complete faggot like Andy here?" He continued, slapping Andy's ass.

I couldn't talk as I was so enamoured by his massive cock, Silkstockingslover's theory that every straight guy could become a cocksucker popping into my head.

A million questions raced through my head:

Why couldn't I turn around and walk out?

How did Andy end up in this compromising situation?

Why couldn't I take my eyes of his glorious cock?

Did I just describe his cock as 'glorious'?

Why was my mouth watering?

Were all Silkstockingslover's stories true?

Where all black cocks that long, thick and delicious looking?

Damn it! Why did I call his cock delicious?

Damn it! Why couldn't I break my stare?

Damn it! What did he just say?

"Oh delicious, you're a cocksucker who doesn't know it yet," he assessed, beginning to walk over to me.

I finally broke eye contact, turned to Andy, and said, trying to act as if I wasn't overwhelmed with the situation, returning to my original anger, "You purposely made bad calls so we would lose and you could get ass fucked?"

Andy went to speak, but the black teen spoke instead, "Well, it was obvious that your team was better than my little brother's team, so I offered a very generous trade: a few blown calls for a good hard ass fuck. Isn't that right, Angela?"

Andy winced at the female name, yet nodded, not looking up, "Yes."

"He really had no choice," the teen continued.

"He had no choice?" I scoffed, looking at the teen and using every ounce of willpower I had to not look down.

"Once you get a look at the chocolate, you want a taste of the chocolate, once you have a taste of the chocolate you want the full meal deal and once you have had chocolate you crave it, don't you Angela?"

"Yes," Andy again whispered, clearly ashamed.

"And even though you know you shouldn't, you know it's bad for you and you know you will regret it, you can't resist the temptation. Like I said, he had no choice," he finished. He then added, "Just like you have no choice."

It's like walking a tight rope and they tell you to not look down...what do you do? You look down.

And I knew I was indeed walking a tight rope myself. My growing curiosity over the past year had consumed me, had become what I jerked off about and even filled my dreams...but fantasy is just that...fantasy.

I knew I had to stay on the tight rope, even though a growing desire was definitely building inside me and I was undeniably rock hard...even as I looked down at his still very hard cock.

"This is ridiculous," I responded, after staring at his dick for a couple of seconds, "I'm going to the commissioner."

"Or," he countered, walking to me and putting his hands on my shoulders, "You can finish what your buddy started."

I'd like to say I turned around and walked out.

I'd like to say I punched the cocky teen in the face and walked out.

I'd like to say I at least protested the suggestion I was given.

Yet....

I can't say any of those things.

As his strong hands firmly guided me to my knees, my eyes again locked on his big black juicy cock.

The closer it was to me, the more my mouth involuntarily watered.

The closer it got to me, the more I wanted to taste it.

The closer it got to me, the more I knew I was about to cross the line between fiction and reality.

On my knees, his black missile literally staring at me, he asked, "Do you want to suck it?"

Again I wished I could say I didn't say yes, but that would be a lie.

Instead, my eyes never leaving the majestic sight of his thick dick, I answered, feeling my own cheeks burn red, just like Andy's had, "Yes."

"Yes, what?" He asked, slowly stroking his cock.

Feeling like I was one of Silkstockingslover's characters and feeling the scenario and the dialogue were eerily like many of her stories, I answered like her characters would, "Yes, I want to suck your dick."

He tapped my lips and I instantly opened as if trained to be a cocksucker.

When he didn't shove his prick in my mouth I was disappointed as instead he ordered, "Good cocksuckers convince me they really want my cock."

He moved to Andy, who was watching my submission with the same shock and awe as I had his, and ordered, "Beg for my cock cocksucker."

Andy instantly resumed being a cocksucking bitch as he begged, "Oh please shove that thick black missile in my white cocksucking mouth and fuck my face in front of my good friend."

The teen shoved his cock back into Andy's mouth and explained, looking at me, "You see, wannabe cocksucker, I only allow my cock to be serviced my eager, hungry, submissive, worshipping white cocksuckers who really convince me they crave it, must have it, even though they have a wife and kids at home who they should probably be with at the moment."

'Fuck! My wife,' I thought to myself. She was at the stadium somewhere waiting for me. As if on cue, my phone rang.

My eyes went wide as he asked, "Is that her calling now?"

I pulled out my phone and saw it was indeed her.

He said, "Answer it, I won't say a word."

Somehow believing him, even as he pumped his dick in Andy's mouth, I clicked answer.

"Hi, honey," I greeted, my voice breaking.

"Where are you?" She asked, not nagging, just wondering.

"Having a face to face with Andy about his officiating," I answered, watching the black cock play hide and seek in Andy's mouth.

The teen laughed at my word choice as I shook my head at the innuendo I had accidentally just said.

"Don't kill him," she warned, knowing my temper.

I replied, still on my knees, intensely watching the black cock moving in and out of Andy's mouth, "It's very tempting."

Again as soon as I said it I realized the sexual innuendo that the black teen would catch even though my wife wouldn't have a clue.

"Are you almost done?" She asked.

Suddenly, the teen pulled his cock out of Andy's mouth, turned his cock towards me and coated my shocked face with cum.

I stammered, even as my face continued to be hit with his warm goo, "I-I-I think we are."

"I'll be in the car," she said.

"Okay," I replied, still in shock at what had just happened.

"Love you," she said sweetly.

"Love you too," I said, feeling incredibly guilty for what I had almost done.

Strangely, by getting a facial from this teenager, I had avoided a much bigger mistake. I hadn't sucked cock.

Hanging up, I realized my phone also had cum on it.

"Next time you can swallow it all," he said.

Standing up, I firmly said, "There won't be a next time."

He nodded with a smirk, "If you say so."

I went to the washroom and looked at my face in the mirror. There was cum all over my face and even in my hair.

I quickly cleaned my face, realizing that cum was hard to wash off completely and wondering if my wife found it equally inconvenient.

My wife.

Fuck.

I finished cleaning up, returned to the scene of the crime to see the teen was again fucking Andy.

Two thoughts immediately formed:

1. How the hell did he stay hard?

2. What would it feel like to take a cock in the ass?

Andy moaned, as the teen slammed into him hard, "I'm so sorrrrry Greg."

"Fuck you, Andy," I snapped, even more furious now because of the consequences his actions had not only on my team, but to me, trying to hide the submissive thoughts forming in my head.

"Do you want to fuck him, coach cocksucker? His ass is super tight," the teen asked, the question meant to push me further.

Knowing I had to get out of there ASAP, I quickly walked out and heard him yell, "It's only a matter of time, Coach Cocksucker, I can see the hunger in your eyes."

Once out, I shook my head. What the fuck just happened?

I went to the car, got inside and guilt washed through me as I looked at my wife.

She said, "Sorry you lost."

"We didn't lose, Andy fucked us over," I replied, as an image of Andy bent over getting ass fucked popped into my head.

"He's still alive?" She asked, only partially kidding and trying to lighten the mood.

"He got a good reaming," I replied, not sure why I wasn't able to respond without sexual innuendo...even if she was completely oblivious.

"Well, he should have gotten a good reaming. Even I could tell some of his calls were terrible," she said, supporting me like she always does.

Unable to help myself, I replied, "It was given to him from top to bottom."

She gave me a strange look, but didn't say anything as I started driving home.

2. HATE FUCK: THE PERFECT WIFE

That night, in the bedroom, I took out my sexual frustration out on my wife who had, thank the Lord, never lost her sex drive.

Actually Marcia, pronounced Marci-a, not Marsha (she hates being called Marsha), was a strange oxymoron. Although quiet and reserved in all other aspects of her life, she was loud and wild in the bedroom...once I got her motor running.

Keeping with the strange oxymoron that was my wife, she also never, ever initiated sex, but also almost never (maybe a dozen times in our marriage) rejected it once I initiated.

Also, even though she is perceived to be the sweetest woman around, which she is, she is game for almost anything sexually.

She has always loved giving head, the only woman I had ever dated who did...thus I married her.

She loves the taste of cum; she seemed disappointed when she told me the taste of my cum had changed after my vasectomy. There will be days while I'm watching television, working on the car, or doing some menial task and I snap my fingers, point to my crotch, and she will immediately drop to her knees, suck me off, swallow my load and then leave.

Also, for a woman of such gentle demeanour, she likes her sex a little rough. She loves getting her ass smacked, loves having her nipples pinched, and I mean hard, and even loves it when I'm holding her head to the mattress with her ass in the air.

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