Crosstraining Ch. 01

Somehow he has hit a light switch, and I realize we're in front of a full length mirror, him standing so tall, now naked except for the shorts I've pulled down to his knees, and me kneeling submissively in front of him, his huge cock halfway buried in my slutty mouth. I don't know this guy, I shouldn't be going anywhere with him, I shouldn't be sucking his cock deeper and deeper into my mouth.

Now he's watching in the mirror, it gives him a better view of the scene, me now bobbing my head back and forth, somehow taking more and more of his cock. I'm pushing it harder into the back of my throat each time I surge forward, gagging a little every time, but so happy that I can be bringing these moans and praise from him. I can glimpse the scene in the mirror out of one eye each time I pull back, and it's better than any porn video I've ever seen. The white girl on her knees is flushed, looks frenzied, desperate to please this raging black cock. The black man, tall and strong, stands over her, and she loves his attention, his approval.

I see a spot of wet, of dark, against the black of her shorts, where precum has leaked from her hard cock and soaked the fabric. Confusion. And then, as she takes in this scene, and as I realize that she is me, that it's my red lips with just the tip of this beautiful black cock between them, his strength suddenly does it, pulls her head, my head, forward hard. She does the impossible, I do the impossible, and with his firm grasp pulling hard her mouth, my mouth, is pressed all the way against him, his heavy balls against her chin, my chin. Elation, victory, satisfaction, joy, bliss.

And now I can do it myself, pulling back and then forward, taking his cock full length into my mouth, into my throat. Over and over I take him, frantic with lust for this divine black cock. My throat needs his cock. And from the sounds he makes I know he needs me, needs me to do exactly what I'm doing, swallowing his cock over and over.

A glimpse in the mirror again, the slut on her knees worshiping the huge black cock, her cheeks now flushed as red as the cocksucker lipstick that's smeared from her lips, his cock, her cheeks and chin. With a deep roar he grabs her head again and she willingly surges forward and he erupts, shooting hot cum first into her throat, then a second blast into her mouth, then a third goes across her face as he pulls back, but then slams forward again, aftershocks pulsing again and again.

It's the aftershocks, the continued pulsing, that bring me back to myself, make me realize that the slut in the mirror is me. The pulsing is my own cock, held twisted sideways in my panties, spasmodically shooting my own cum blast after blast, the soaking spot showing through the fabric more and more clearly. He pulls back, a trail of cum following as his glorious black cock pops out from my red lips one last time. In the mirror I glimpse that cum dropping down the slut's chin to mark her tit, a darker blob against the pink of her running top.

And paralyzing fear sets in, that long-forgotten voice trying to get across how obvious the stain on my shorts is, how the outline of my own cock must surely be clear against the taught fabric as I kneel there. If he knows he'll be furious, I don't know this guy, I shouldn't be here, what have I done. But then, while the paralysis still holds, a sudden sound from behind me, bewildering. Clapping. His roommates. They're cheering. Paralysis broken, I spin my head, cum trailing from my chin, recognizing all three of them from the basketball court. How long have they been watching? How does it even matter?

Panic now, paralysis completely past, I run. The sliding glass door is still slightly open, and I run. Laughing behind me, and I run. My own dick, still hard but fast softening, pushed out now down the leg of my panties, brushing the smooth fabric of my shorts, hypersensitive jolts, making it so awkward, I run.

Gasping for air, through the twilight, back to my building, in through the door, desperate for my own apartment. But just as I fumble at my door, somehow impossibly dropping and picking up the key, the neighbor's door opens and he steps out, broad shoulders and square jaw, looking straight at me, taking in the stain on my shorts, the stain on my top, the glop down my chin, across my cheek, even (it turns out) up my forehead and into my hair. He sees the remaining smears of the cocksucker red lipstick, and then my door is open and I'm in, deadbolting it behind me. The taste of Jamal's cock, his cum, still so strong in my mouth, the very first time I tasted him, the time he started my training, taught me to suck and to throat his beautiful black cock, and I stood there still gasping, my back bracing the door shut, savoring the taste, licking my chin for more.