The changing rooms at the gym are a funny place, in that it's the only place you see other men naked, and it is all supposed to be innocent -- we're all men together and yes we have knobs and pubic hair and buttocks, but that's irrelevant. Personally I don't pay much attention. But one day there was a guy in there who I had seen doing some weights but not really noticed more than that. It wasn't until he came into the changing rooms afterwards and I saw him without his shirt that I became interested. In fact I realised I was staring. He was aged mid thirties, fairly fit and muscular but with a bit of a stomach, plus he was black and had some chest hair and a good crop growing out from the top of his shorts. I told myself to stop looking, but I glanced up at his face and he was looking at me too.
That night I had a wank thinking about him. I felt I had to get him naked in private. So the next day I went to the gym at the same time, and sure enough he was there again. He didn't shower, just changed his shirt, so I thought maybe he lived close by. I quickly got dressed and followed him out of the building. He strode past the car park and out along the road. I managed to catch up with him and started making conversation about the gym and what we did there. After a couple of minutes he stopped outside a gate and said he lived there. Would I like to come in for a coffee? Very nice of you, I said, as calmly as I could.
He lived in the bottom flat. He told me to sit down and went to make the drinks. I sat on the settee and when he came back in he sat next to me. He also had a bottle of whisky, and poured some into his coffee. 'Want some?' he asked, and I said yes. We talked some more and he topped the whisky up several times until I was feeling pretty relaxed. Then he looked at me and said 'What do you want?'
'I want to look at your penis,' I said, my heart racing. He stood up and said 'Come on, then,' and led the way into the bedroom. He closed the door behind us and took off his shirt. Again I enjoyed the look of his dark skin and black body hair. 'Help yourself,' he said, putting his arms apart as if he was being frisked at an airport. He had tracksuit bottoms on, so I just untied a lace and slid them down. To do that, of course, I had to kneel in front of him. My face was in front of his purple underpants. Pubic hair oozed from the top and sides of his pants. I nuzzled his bulge with my nose and smelled that combination of sweat, cock and urine that I love so much. I slid his pants down and his cock hung there, slowly rising. He sat on the bed and pulled the clothes over his feet and off.
'Are you going to show me your penis?' he asked. I undressed slowly, watching myself in a mirror. 'You smell good,' he said. 'Just had a shower?'
'Uh huh,' I replied.
'Come and sit on my face,' he said, so I knelt astride his head, facing the wall, holding onto the headboard, and lowered my arse to his nose. He put his tongue right into my crack and licked my arsehole. I thought my balls and the head of my cock were going to explode. 'Fuck me, that's nice,' I said.
'I intend to fuck you,' he said, 'but first things first,' and he licked me again.
'I want to do that to you,' I said eagerly, and climbed back down so I was lying alongside him. I played with his chest hair and followed the line of pubes with my finger from his navel to his bush. He was now fully erect and I wrapped my right hand around his shaft and did a little wanking motion, then moved it up to the head and ran my fingers around the contours, picking up a little of his waxy secretions on my fingertips. As I looked at the darkness of his cock skin and balls I thought about what it was about black men that turned me on so much. I didn't have any answers, just theories. Was it because darkness is associated with badness and when it comes to sex we all like to feel we're doing something bad? Was it something to do with slavery and my need to do sex things with a black body was some expression of remorse on behalf of the exploiters? I wanted to suck black cocks and lick black arses, but it wasn't any sort of self-abasement or submissiveness -- I just liked doing it.
'Kneel down with your arse in the air,' I told him. 'I want to lick your bottom.'
He did as he was told and I got down behind him and licked his fabulous secret place. After the first tonguefuls of arse taste had slipped over my tongue and down my throat I began to feel and taste the raw meat that was the last edges of his rectum. He was writhing with pleasure. I licked him some more and then slid my thumb inside.
'Listen,' he said, 'I want to do that to you and then I'm going to come into your crack.'
I obligingly got into position and he got behind me and licked me as I had done him. My head on one side, I was watching in the mirror. Then he kneeled up and began to wank with his cock against my crack. After just a few seconds he ejaculated, squirting his semen into my outer arse. I loved the feeling, the warmth and sliminess as it slid downwards. He rubbed some into my arse with his finger and then said 'Do that to me: come into my crack. We swapped positions and I masturbated, the head of my cock and my knuckles rubbing against him until I came and the whiteness of my spunk against the darkness of his skin was very exciting. He passed me a tissue and I wiped him while he wiped me, then we both lay there with one finger up each other's arse and dozed.