setting a trap for the neighborhood thugs

You know the type he is the guy that stands around with his gang„ calling you fag as you walk by, and if you turn, he flips you off, one day you find yourself sitting next to him on the bus. You question him„ he says all in fun.. well  ok, if it was just fun,  no harm done at one point in the conversation, you manage to interject the HOOK   you say if you ever want to come over to my place feel free.

He shows up on a Fri night.. so hey whats up

Nothing he says all the guys have shit to do so here I am

come on in, want a drink, as you head to the liquor cabinet.

sure whatever

You pour him silver patron, in a large  glass, and put the bottle on the coffee table, he’s such an ass he doesn’t even ask for another just pours it.

Thank God it’s the small bottle, before you know it 3/4 of the bottle is gone, he’s totally wasted, you haven’t even had one.

Do you mind if I do a bowl he says as he is pulling some weed from his jacket..

Dang that shit smells cheep, how about I break out some of my stuff, it really is great, hardly ever smoke myself, makes me kind of horny.

YEAH DUDE aint that the shit!

You break it out, it’s in a  small humidor on your coffee table, he packs a bowl.. and passes it to you, you don’t really take a hit, but he’s unaware of it.

pretty soon he is toast, drunk out of his skull and stoned like he was some whore of Babylon .

We’re kicked back; him basking in wherever his mind is and you checking out the bod that’s  limp in his chair.

So, what’s your plans for the night you going out.

Nah, I just thought I’d stay home and watch a movie

DUDE you got movies, like porn and shit?

Yeah, that wasn’t what I had in mind though

OWW come on put some on.

SO you carefully select a bi movie, you’ve seen it a hundred times.. It’s a film by a director who only did a few, his name is Paul Norman, this one is staring Bunny Blu, getting stoned and day dreaming of being tied down and 2 dudes working her over.

He’s totally into it., he is sittin a bit more upright focused on the dudes one is face fucking her and the other Is bangin away at her hole.

Next thing you know the guy getting the blow job is moving down, neck tits belly, the dude in her hole slips out and the other guy starts sucking on some pussy juiced dick.

He freaks out.

Dude you say what’s wrong with all of that? Don’t tell me you and a bud haven’t double banged some chick..

No, that’s not what I’m talking about, that guy is sucking the other dude off.

HA HA, you’re such a pussy, and your and your buds call out all kinds of shit in my face.

He shuts up, and goes back to the movie, it’s getting to him, he’s rubbing his crotch, and you see dinner. You get up, walk into the bathroom and come back with towels, toss him one, he gives you this blank look.

You aint cummin on my furniture., I know we can both jerk off together, unless that’s another part of your pussy shit.

No, I’m not a pussy about it but like I don’t flash my junk to dudes,

Well I guess I’m a bigger man than you guys take me for. I’m not afraid to flash my junk, especially if I’m horny, which I am. Oh I get it your ashamed of what you got.

Now you’ve got him„ you have challenged his masculinity on several levels. Now he has to prove you wrong. You stand and drop your pants, he is now checking your junk„ he knows he’s got you beat in the meat dept. So he stands and drops his„ you whistle and tell him if you had that kind of meat you’d be flashing it everywhere.

He has you beat in the man dept. and he is so impressed with his manhood, so he sits back down, you move to the end of the couch closest to him, he is zoned out, your both beating, he doesn’t even know your there. till you wrap your hand around his hot hard cock. 

He’s startled, but moves his hand, then you are on your knees giving the best PRO BLOW you know how to give, he looses it fills your mouth to over flowing. He passes out. You undress him move him back to your bedroom and lay him out. You are back between his legs only you are bathing each inch of this man. balls, between them next to his leg, and then you go for the biggie, the nether region, he is moaning in sheer delight. he’s yours!!! You hit his hole and the only thing your sure of is HE WILL BE BACK , and he will have bragged to at least one of his buds about you being a fag, and how you had the best booze, the tightest weed, and some porn shit that is out of this world. So you’ve done him a couple of times and in the middle of the week one night one of the other toughies is at your door, He’s not one of the hot ones, but it’s a dick. He is ready, and his buddy has already explained the routine. But you play it out. Knowing what he really wants is some hot mouth wrapped around his joint. One by one over the next few months you’ve had the whole gang, and a bit of video from your cell, just for insurance reasons, or maybe blackmail?  oh well, for your pleasure too. lol     

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farmboys and the Bible

FARMBOYS

**

My name is Shad. I moved to San Francisco from Salina Kansas. Salina?

Yuk! What a berg. Constant hot wind in the summer and terrible storms in the winter. If I ever see another wheat or cornfield I’ll scream. No mountains or nothing. You just look across the plains into infinity.

The people in Salina are bible slappers. What’s good for them is good for you and you’d better not sin. I came to San Francisco before I got caught sinning. I’m gay and I was playing around with another farm kid. Jeez! If the community found out I’d be tarred and feathered and run out of town.

This kid’s name was Justin. He’d been helping me do some farm work and we decided to lay back in a haystack and rest a bit. Male talk of course turned to dirty jokes and I saw the bulge in his overalls. This caused my peter to swell. It was a compulsive urge. I reached down and grabbed his crotch. He tried to fight me off yelling, “Hey! What are you doing? Stop! Don’t!”

I had become uncontrollably aggressive. Perhaps it was starting to be rape, but I just had to hold his balls and prick. We wrestled in the hay a real long time. I finally got his bib straps unsnapped and pulled his coveralls down. He wasn’t wearing any shorts and lay there bare ass naked under me. He had cupped himself with his hands, but I pried them away, gripped his dick, and fondled his balls. He was still squirming and bucking trying to stop me but I got him uncapped, exposing his swollen red tip.

Then I pushed him back and bent down and put his dick in my mouth and held his balls. Justin tried to pull my head away. I just kept sucking on him. It must have finally started feeling good though because Justin slowly relaxed his grip and instead of trying to pull me off, he pushed my head down for more. I had him.

He pumped a big wad into my mouth but his dick didn’t go down so I kept working on it ‘til I got two more good cums from him. He was moaning with pleasure. I even pushed my finger up his asshole. He uttered a surprised cry when I did that.

When I was done, Justin looked embarrassed and bewildered. He wasn’t angry at all. He’d just experienced a new happening in his life, and apparently he’d liked it.  

I pulled my own coveralls down. Justin was a little hesitant to touch me but his eyes were fixed on my hard on. I guided his hand to my dick and told him it was O.K. if he gave it a feel. It didn’t take long before he was jackin’ me and playing with my balls. He finally got the courage to put my cock in his mouth. I had to instruct him how and where to use his tongue.

Justin got broken in real good that day. Completely lost his cock virginity and even swallowed my cum once. Since he was a bible boy, I knew that he was going to feel extra guilty about what we’d done. I told him that it was O.K. and that we’d come together because God wanted it that way. Justin really believed since God had let this happen that he now belonged to me and I could have him whenever I wanted. This was great. I’d just tell him where to meet me, and the time, and he’d be there waiting.

I made a place in the barn loft. I moved a bunch of hay bales for a crawl hole that no one but us knew about. This opened up into a small private secluded area where I had put a blanket and pillow atop a hay mattress.

Lots of times Justin would crawl in holding his bible asking why God wanted us to be together like this.

No matter if he whined, I knew he wouldn’t be there if he wasn’t anticipating getting his cock sucked….and sucking mine too for that matter. If he got hesitant, I’d just get a hammerlock around his waist, squeeze around his crotch a few times till his dick swelled and then it was down with his pants. He might cry just a little bit but his whimpering always turned to blissful moans after I started sucking on him.

I’ll always have visions of Justin’s body. He was gorgeous…smooth and flowing. He’d lie on his back and spread his legs for me. Before I started anything I’d have to look him over. His prick was well proportioned and hard as a metal bolt. His uncapped red tip was flared with color, his pee hole slightly open. Two firm hairy balls were in the clutch below, one hanging slightly above the other. His skin had a healthy fresh tone. Silky, soft hair made a patch above his prick with loose strands dropping downward.

Butts have always turned me on. Justin’s was anatomically beautiful. Two well formed smooth cheeks, almost cherub- like. His crack was tight. I loved to run my hand over his buns and draw my finger up and down his crack. With a thumb and forefinger, I’d gently spread open the bottom half so his pucker was in view. It always looked inviting, like it wanted to receive a well-lubed finger or a hard cock.  

But Justin had to learn to like my finger in his pucker- hole. He had kind of a hang-up. He never liked me to mess around back there. I had to break him in slowly. I wanted his pucker-hole more relaxed. When I first started, the only way I could get my finger in his butt was when he was cumming. I’d watch for signs when I was tonguing him. When he started to convulse, my greased finger was there, ready to move in. Justin was in no condition to stop me as he shot his wad. My finger intensified his sensation, and he soon began to accept it. 

Through my massage, his asshole started to relax and he developed that asshole “itch”. He found my finger gave it relief. His hole finally started loosening so I could get two fingers in and slide them past my mid knuckles. I congratulated myself on my patience.

For Justin’s benefit, I secured a grip bar that sat pretty close to the floor. If a man is going to take something up his ass, he is more comfortable if he is gripping something.

Justin had to have been thinking about getting butt fucked. His asshole had that special itch and could now take two fingers. He had to know it was going to happen soon.

On the planned day, Justin arrived on time as instructed. I sucked him off knowing after cumming, his body would be more relaxed. I would not let him touch me even though I was raging hard. I had a special place I was going to shoot my cum that day.

I had Justin turn on his side and draw up a leg. I buried my face into his ass, my tongue hit his hole and he was pushing back on it, I thought he would scream from my tonguing. I went from licking to pushing my finger in and out. I gently massaged his asshole until it loosened. He got to his knees, drew up, spread his legs, and grasped the bar. His beautiful butt and pucker target were staring at me. Greasing my dick with my copious precum, I hoped I wouldn’t cum prematurely.

I put it against his hole, tucking it in just a little, then withdrawing, watching his hole nip at it. I pushed it further, held it, then slowly pushed some more. His muscle wrapped around the head of my cock. He moaned. I could see him gripping the bar tightly.. I didn’t know if he was feeling pain, ecstasy, or both. My cockhead moved inward past the tightness. My shaft easily followed. Finally my balls pressed against his butt. I had scored.

I held still for a few moments letting his ass muscles adjust. I started slowly pumping forwards and backwards. It took super human power not to cum right then. I moved it around some more, then I got into uncontrollable heat. I slammed at him, back and forth as fast and as hard as I could. Justin wiggled his butt muttering, “OH, GOD! OH GOD!”

My cum was starting. I rammed with brute force, then held my last thrust against his cheeks. I spurted and spurted deep into his strong smooth body. I withdrew completely spent. I looked down at him. Justin had spilled his cum all over the blanket.

"So how was that?"

"I loved your mouth there, it hurt like hell when you put your pecker in there. I had to hold on tight to the bar. Is that why you put it there?" He didn’t wait for an answer. "It finally started feeling kind of good, I felt real full, not like I ate a good meal but really weird, it was so full, back there. I could feel your pecker twitch, you came inside me huh?" Still he talked. " I don’t think God would like that." "Well then I said I should take it out of there." "HUH?" "Like this" I had eaten my cum before I had even met him. I must admit I liked it, less than what he and I had been doing. To ease his BIBLE MIND, I dove into his ass crack and back to his hole. This time I wasn’t tonguing it I was sucking it. It was still somewhat open from my fucking, so what I was doing was easy. I sucked all my cum from my somewhat willing/reluctant lover. ‘YOU’RE NOT!!" he almost screamed it. With a mouth full of my own cum, I mumbled "UHHHH YEAH I am." I moved up to his face and opened my mouth. He saw it was filled with my cum. "It taste much better than when I lick it off my hand." "You do that?" "Don’t you? "That would be a terrible sin." "God put us together, why would this be a sin?" "I, I, I don’t know." I swallowed it with more gusto than what  was reality I wanted him to know that I was not only placating him not wanting it inside him, but that it was God’s work. For the very first time since we started, or should I say forced him. I kissed him, He was in shock more than anything else, and his mouth was open. I probed his mouth, and I think without his being aware of it, he was kissing me back. THERE WAS THE BOND!!

Later that same year Salina had a scandal. A choirmaster was accused of messing around with two teenage choirboys. The town was in a uproar. Citizens demanded justice. The choirmaster was almost lynched. That’s why my folks thought that it was time form me to move away from the farm.

Oh yes, Justin came with me.

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STORY

Mountain Man

by FraNK

Wal,  Stranger, Caleb ain’t my real name, but that don’t make no never mind. I was born an’ reared in th’ Great Smokies. My Ma died durin’ my bornin’, so I never knowed her. Pa brung me an’ my broth’r, Jethro, up. Pa’s allus feelin’ puny ever since I kin remember. Pa had a still in th’ woods off a piece behind our shack, but he drunk more of th’ dew than he sold an’ we never had no cash money. Me an’ Jethro always brung in some crops so we at least had vittles on th’ table. Our house was jes’ a small shack with two rooms, one room had a stove for cookin’ with a fireplace an’ where Pa an’ th’ dogs slept. Me an’ Jethro slept in th’ t’oth’r room where we kept tools an’ foodstuff. Miz Kimball come by once a year, after Jethro an’ me done got th’ crop in, to do th’ cannin’ for us.

Jethro an’ me shared th’ same bed. He larned me how to cipher an’ read from Ma’s Bible. Th’ only school was too far for me to go to down on th’ flatlan’s, so I worked th’ fields with him. Wasn’t a night went by when I was a young’un that Jethro didn’t get all het up in bed an’ have to go to th’ outhouse. I got mighty curious-like about it an’ I snuck out o’ th’ house one night behind Jethro an’ follered him. Lucky thar’ wasn’t no full moon that night, ‘cause effen Jethro had a’caught me he would a’ skinned me alive. Well, he went into th’ outhouse an’ I crept on over an’ peeked through a crack. By th’ time I got a look, he’d done skinned his overalls down an’ he was a’playin’ with hisself. Lordy, but he had one big pecker. His ol’ fist was wrapped around it an’ he was just a’punishin’ it. Th’ crickets an’ th’ oth’r little critters was a’chirpin’ away in th’ bushes but I could hear ole Jethro a’breathin’ lak’ he was goin’ to die right thar on th’ spot. I just warn’t able to keep my eyes off’n his meat. I wondered effen my pecker would ever get that big. He beat that pore thing faster an’ harder an’ th’n it began to spit in his nan’ an’ Jethro let out a little howl. Was almos’ like a explosion shooting agin th’ wall. I figgered I seen what I wanted to an’ I got my ass back to th’ house an’ to bed.

Th’ rest o’ th’ year passed an’ I cain’t rightly say that I noticed anythin’ wrong with Pa, but he did walk slower an’ spent more time in his bed. Jethro wanted to take him to th’ flatlan’ to see one o’ them thar’ doctors, but Pa wasn’t about to go. He figgered that effen he went to one of them thar’ hospitals he’d never come out agin. Then, one mornin’ when I got up to build a fire to heat th’ water for th’ mornin’ grits, I found that Pa had died durin’ th’ night. I woke Jethro.

"Well, I ‘spect Pa’s better off now," Jethro said as we looked down at th’ ol’ man. "You eat your grits an’ then go on down to Miz Kimball an’ tell her. She’ll be a’wantin’ to lay him out. I’ll dig th’ hole next to Ma." I could tell Jethro was real broken up ‘cause he usually never spoke much. Pa was not a real lov’ble man so I cain’t say I was really goin’ to miss him like Jethro.

Bad news spreads fast over th’ mountains, it’s almost lak’ th’ wind carries it all over. This time o’ th’ year you cain’t leave a body lie around too long or it really gets powerful. Miz Kimball come to wash up Pa an’ we took an old sheet to wrap him in. She told me to skeddadle when I wanted to watch her an’ Jethro get him in his buryin’ sheet. Cain’t afford to let good clothes be buried an’ there ain’t ‘nough money for a buryin’ box so Pa was lowered into th’ ground by our neighbors. We ain’t got nobody nearby, in fact, they had to walk a far piece to just come for th’ buryin’. There ain’t no preacher in these parts, so Mr. Kimball said th’ words over Pa. Must’ve been over two dozen people who come. They brung us food, a lot of it, which they helped us eat.

A bunch o’ th’ men gathered down near th’ trail, a’talkin’ to Jethro. Ever-body pretty much ignored me ‘ceptin’ some o’ th’ womenfolk. I was sixteen, mos’ seventeen now, looked ‘n favored Jethro a lot. We was both yellow headed like our Ma, an’ tall. Some of th’ gals just sighed an’ hung ‘round Jethro but he paid ‘em no mind. I wanted to hear what they was sayin’ so I walked up close to th’ men’s group.

"Jethro," ol’ Mr. Watkins was speakin’. "Now your Pa’s gone to his reward what’re you fixin’ to do?"

Jethro lean’t agin th’ tree chewin’a piece of grass. I ain’t never realized but Jethro was taller than most o’ th’ menfolk round these parts. “Well, I figger on farmin’ like Pa did. I got to feed Caleb an’ me, jest like before. I’m a’goin’ to plant me more corn an’ make some shine.”

"Yore Pa allus made shine, but he ain’t never made a go o’ it," says another man with an ole corncob pipe ‘tween in his stained teeth. I seem to recollec’ that was Mr. Castleberry. He’s got hisself nine sons an’ a passle of young ‘uns from th’ boys an’ their wives.

"Pa drunk more than he sold. I ain’t a’goin’ to let that happen."

"What about a woman?"

"Cain’t afford me one."

"Well, you got you Caleb."

I couldn’t see who said that, but I suspeck ‘twas Sheriff Summerfield. It made t’other men laugh as they looked at me. I felt myself turn beet red but I cain’t say why.

Th’ night of Pa’s buryin’, I offered to sleep in th’ kitchen but Jethro wouldn’t hear o’ it. An’ ‘twas th’ first night that Jethro pestered me. One time I’d seen in one o’ those flatlan’ picture books whar’ men wore those silly striped drawers under they britches, or those white panties which caught a man’s pecker an’ cods up an’ it looked mighty uncomfortable to me. Me an’ Jethro wore our overalls, our boots an’, in th’ winter a shirt an’ jacket. We slept buckass naked as th’ good Lord made us.

Well, this night, we went to bed, but we couldn’t get to sleep. Thar’ was a chill in th’ air an’ we hunkered closer to each oth’r, but we wasn’t saying nothin’. I could feel th’ tension in his body, a’layin there next t’me. I ‘spected any minute that ole Jethro would make a beeline for th’ outhouse, but he put his arm around me, then a while later he begun a’runnin’ his nan’ over me. He ain’t never done that before. I lay with my back to his chest an’ I felt his old pecker a’growin’ on my behind. I’d just begun playin’ with my own an’ I coulda used Jethro’s outhouse time. Th’ fust time I done it, when my juices come flyin’ out I was sure I had injured myself an’ was goin’ to die. Anymore,I always thunk that to have somethin’ this great to happen to a person, it had to cost cash money. But I guess th’ Lord had to give us pore folk some pleasure or life wouldn’t be wuth too much.

To get back to what I was explaining Jethro was a’pesterin’ me fierce-like. He started a’hunchin’ my back side. Then, I felt a wetness on my rearend, Jethro done shot his juices on my back. I was too skeered to move or say anythin’. T’wasn’t long before he begun snoring. Funny thing my own pecker was hard an’ it didn’t seem lak’ it was goin’ to go to sleep until I fisted it. I started slow but as th’ juices in my cods begun to boil an’ my skin tighten, I knew I was about to shoot my load. Just as I begun to pump all that juice, there was Jethro leanin’ on his elbow a’watchin’ me. It was too late, I couldn’t have stopped for th’ good Lord Hisself.

I ‘spected that Jethro was a’goin’ to have a shit fit, after all Pa’s lecturin’ but I could make out that he was grinnin’ lak’ some fox that done raided th’ chicken coop.

"You got yourself a fine lookin’ pecker thar’, Caleb boy. How long you been doin’ that7"

"A long time."

"How come you ain’t never told me?"

"I don’t know."

"Well, well," was all Jethro said. He reached over an’ took my funky han’ an’ put it on his pecker. His ole pecker done come alive again an’ he wrapped my sticky fingers ‘round it. I shore lak’d th’ feel of it. I begun jackin’ on it a bit, but I kept an eye on Jethro. I shore didn’t want to get him pissed off at me. He’s done tanned my hide before an’ I ain’t anxious to have it happen too often.

Funny thing my own pecker was a’comin’ awake again too. I let my own pecker alone an’ spit into my fist an’ begun playin’ with his. I can do it to mine anytime about. “Oh, yeah,” Jethro groaned. “I’m gonna booger you, little broth’r.”

I dropped his pecker, but he took my han’ an’ I begun a’playin’ with his meat again. I was right skeered. I wasn’t sure what that thar “booger” was but I figgered th’ only place he could put that pecker was up my bum an’ I recalled how bad it hurt when I took me a hard shit. I seen th’ turds layin’ on th’ side of th’ hole in th’ outhouse an’ t’wasn’t none of th’m as big as Jethro’s pecker. Jethro was sure to kill me effn that was what he was plannin’. I figgered that if I could thrash his pecker with my han’ an’ make his juices come out, he’d forget about gettin’ into my pore little pooper. Shore enough, he started a’groanin’ an’ just a’thrashin’ around on th’ bed an’ in no time my han’ done got anoth’r load of juices. Jethro jest rolled over an’ went to sleep. My own pecker was hard but I wasn’t about to chance wakin’ him again by gettin’ me some more relief. I reached under th’ mattress on my side o’ th’ bed where I wiped my wet han’ off on th’ underside o’ th’ mattress alongside th’ other loads I’d shot before.

Th’ next mornin’ I got up an’ made th’ bacon an’ grits. Jethro come out o’ th’ bedroom an’ went outdoors an’ peed along th’ side o’ th’ cabin. We ate our breakfast. Jethro kept a’lookin’ at me, funny lak’. I knowed he still had it in mind to get into my bung hole an’ funnier yet, it was excitin’ to me. It was th’ most Mention Jethro ever paid me.

"We’re a’goin’ up to th’ ole still an’ see effen we c’n run off some hootch. Need to see how much hootch Pa stored up thar’."

Sheriff Summerfield was our cousin since his ma an’ our ma wuz sisters. He knowed what Pa did but he never give th’ revenooers any idear that we had us a still. Pa larned about runnin’ white lightnin’ from his Pa an’ we made th’ best dew on th’ mountain. When we got up to th’ still we found that Pa had stored fifty jugs of lightnin’ in a dry cave which was hidden by bushes in th’ hillside. Jethro figgered either Pa must’ve cut down on his drinkin’ or he just couldn’t get up thar’ to bring it down to th’ cabin. Jethro said he’d go on down to th’ general store th’ next day an’ see effn he could find someone wantin’ to buy top grade hootch. We ‘zamined th’ copper coils an’ Jethro figgered th’ coils needed flushin’ an’ th’ pots cleanin’ out. He set me to th’ task while he saw how th’ mash was farin’. He figgered as to how it would be doin’ porely an’ we’d have to put us up a new batch a’fore we could start th’ cookin’.

It had gotten mighty hot so I shucked my overalls. Me an’ Jethro worked nekkid a lot. It was much cooler an’ it saved ruinin’ our clothes. I got to work flushin’ th’ coils. Jethro come back without his overalls an’ started on th’ pots. Th’ coils smelled awful an’ each flush of water broke pieces o’ th’ gunk from th’ inside. Hot water would be needed an’ that meant startin’ a fire an’ runnin’ steam through all th’ coils.

Suddenly, I felt a han’ on my bum an’ found Jethro behind me with his pecker a’wavin’ in th’ wind. He was grinnin’ at me lak’ a coon that found a full chicken coop an’ no one around. “I’m a’goin’ to booger you right now, little broth’r.”

"You’re goin’ to kill me with that thing, Jethro." I trembled from bein’ afeared an’ still wantin’ him to try.

In his t’oth’r han’ he held a wadded up pack of oilskin. “I done brought me some bar’ oil to make it go in easy lak’.”

Whenever we kil’t a bar’, after we skin’t th’ critter we always took th’ fat to use as medicine effen someone got tharselves burnt. Thar’ wasn’t no oth’r grease.

"Bend over that ole tree stump." Jethro pointed to a nearby stump that was waist high. We never cut wood near th’ still to fire it up ‘cause we needed th’ trees to hide whar’ it was an’ this ole stump had been thar’ as long as time. We hauled our burnin’ wood from a ways off.

I bent over th’ stump but I kept tellin’ Jethro, “You’re goin’ to kill me with that big ol’ thing! You take it easy, Jethro, you hear now?”

Jethro slicked his pecker up an’ down with th’ grease, wipin’ th’ rest into th’ crack of my skeered little bum. I laid my head on my arms an’ waited. I felt him a’pushin’ an’ knew he was no way near th’ hole, but I wasn’t fool ‘nough to tell him. Maybe he’d give up tryin’ an’ let me pull him off. Dammit, I thought, he done found it. Shore enough, he realized he’d hit th’ hole an’ he pushed. I thunk he was shore enough killin’ me. I knew he loved me ‘cause instead of plungin’ straight in, he took his time. I felt lak’ I had to take me a shit. I kind of giggled to myself, serve him right if I did all over his pecker. Man, it felt lak’ a tree stump was bein’ shoved up me. How-somever, Jethro was real careful. More an’ more o’ that thar’ big ol’ thing poured into me. Sudden-lak’, he stopped an’ leaned over on top of me. “It’s all up your booger, Caleb. You all right?”

Thar’ ain’t no turd ever felt that big before. I nodded my head. Jethro begun to pull out slow, an’ I figgered he felt sorry for me an’ was goin’ to stop but he just about got it all out an’ he shoved it all back in me. He kept a’doin’ it. My ole hole must’ave been stretched from Martinsburg to Charleston an’ back but somehow it started feelin’ different. It didn’t hurt no more. It felt warm an’ tingling an’ my pecker must have liked it ‘cause it was gettin’ hard. Jethro’s cods must be a’boilin’ ‘cause he begun pumpin’ harder an’ harder, slammin’ hisself into my pore hole. Lak’ some wounded animal, he let out a bellow which caused th’ crows which usually hung around th’ still to squawk an’ scream in th’ trees an’ fly off. Smart revenooers could always find stills by lookin’ fo’ th’ crows hangin’ about.

"How was it, Caleb?" Jethro asked as he pulled his pecker from my bung.

"Cain’t say I cared for it much. Now, can I plug your hole?"

"No way, little brother. Maybe sometime we’ll get Cousin Summerfield to get a young ‘un from th’ jail for you can plug."

I was about to ask him if th’ Sheriff had ever done that for him but he went into th’ stream an’ washed hisself off. Jethro told me to go ahead an’ beat off effen I wanted to. My hole hurt more’n a bit but it didn’t keep my pecker from stayin’ hard. I really felt th’ soreness in my pore ass when I was about to shoot an’ my bum clenched to bring th’ ball juice out.

Now that he was through plowin’ me, Jethro begun plowin’ th’ field for th’ corn. We figgered we’d have th’ seed in th’ ground by sundown tomorrow. Then th’ next day he’d set out for th’ general store. We only had us a couple o’ ole mules, so whomsoever bought th’ shine would have to come up an’ git it theyselves.

Jethro got into my ass ag’in that night an’ I’d come to accept that thar’ wasn’t nothin’ much I could do about it. Bein’ my older brother an’ all that, kind o’ made it his due. I shore wished he’d a’let me do th’ same to him but he said I was too young fer such goings on.

A couple a’ winters later, Charlie Macklin who did th’ deliveries o’ our shine to th’ roadhouses an’ bars in th’ flatlan’s come by for a pick up an’ Jethro decided to go along with him. Said he needed to pick up some stuff for us in Ellensburg. I ain’t never seen Ellensburg an’ wanted to go along, but Jethro said one o’ us had to stay on th’ Ian’. I reckon he was right. We’d been makin’ lots o’ money an’ we buried it in different places. Jethro says if we put it in banks we’d have to answer to th’ goviment an’ they’d know we was makin’ shine an’ come snoopin’ around. We ain’t never counted it, we just buried it after we gets enough to fill one a Ma’s ole Mason jars.

Well, I was purty lonely. T’was th’ first time I’d ever rilly been alone all night. I had a hard time gettin’ to sleep ‘cause Jethro wasn’t in bed with me. I shore had gotten to lookin’ forward to havin’ his warm an’ furry body next to me. Ever since th’ first time Jethro put his pecker in me, I guess I ain’t never felt so close to anoth’r person. O’ course, Jethro was kin. I wondered if

all th’ menfolk used th’ir boys reg’lar lak’ Jethro did t’me.

Durin’ th’ night it’d started snowin’. I went outside an’ brung in a lot o’ wood. I figgered that Jethro would lak’ nothin’ better than to be comin’ home to a right warm cabin. I went down to th’ stream with my hatchet, broke some of th’ ice an’ filled buckets which I brung into th’ house. Jethro had talked some about gettin’ a small wood stove for th’ outhouse but I figgered that made no sense since someone would have to go out to light it an’ keep feedin’ it wood. What would we do if one o’ us was out thar’ takin’ a crap an’ th’ damn place caught fire somehow! I kind o’ laffed to myself when I thunk o’ Jethro settin’ on th’ log with his overalls down ‘round his ankles an’ th’ place burnin’ down ‘round him. I’d shore lak’ to see that, him a yelpin’ with his fat dong a’hangin’ down, pissing, tryin’ t’put out th’ fire with his hose.

Twas near sunset when I heered a voice cryin’ on th’ lower path. Taint smart to walk up on a house in th’ mountains without lettin’ th’ folks know you’re thar. You could end up with a round of buckshot.

I opened th’ door. “Who that?”

"Elijah Summerfield."

"Come on up, Sheriff," I hailed. I wondered what he was doin’ here. He ain’t never been since Pa’s buryin’. Sheriffs kinfolk so maybe he was up here on th’ mountain flaw stuff an’ with th’ snow an’ all he done decided to look in on us.

Eli Summerfield was a tall raw-boned man. They say he’s purty rich an’ he ain’t never married. Eli’s ‘bout ten y’ars older than Jethro. I knowed that him an’ Jethro was’ close friends ‘cause Jethro’d say he’d seen Eli whensoever he went down to th’ general store.

"You seed Jethro, Sheriff? He went into Ellensburg yestiday an’ he ain’t come home."

"He’ll be coming home tomorrow, Caleb."

I knowed somethin’ was wrong. I studied th’ good lookin’ face o’ my cousin. He wasn’t tellin’ it all. “Somethin’s wrong with Jethro?”

"Got any ‘shine?"

"What fer?" I asked suspicious-lak’. Maybe th’ revenooers got Jethro an’ Sheriff Eli Summerfield was tryin’ to catch me up.

‘“Cause I’m cold an’ I need something to warm me. I’m not trying to fool you. I know that you and Jethro have been running shine for the past two years since your pa died. We’re kinfolk, Caleb.”

"Awright, sorry Eli." I walked o’er to a barrel in th’ corner with a kerosene lamp on it. I put th’ lamp on th’ floor an’ pushed th’ lid aside an’ reached down an’ brung up a jug o’ shine. Jethro said it was to only be used for medicinal purposes bein’ him an’ me ain’t drinkin’ men. We seed enough o’ that with Pa.

I took an clean cup from a shelf an’ handed Eli th’ cup an’ jug. He pored hisself a whoppin’ big drink. He pulled off his jacket an’ tossed it on a chair with his hat. I waited patient-lak’. It don’t do to rush no one. I knowed he had somethin’ to say an’ he’d get around to sayin’ it. But if’n it about Jethro, I wished he’d get it offn his chest.

"Caleb, Jethro an’ Charlie Macklin got themselves arrested this morning on their way back. Don’t look at me like that. ‘Twarn’t me, was the rev’nooers. The car slid on a patch of ice and crashed into the hillside. Poor Charlie died right away." He looked at me with those devil eyes o’ his as he sipped th’ dew.

He talked some more. I didn’t say nothin’ but I felt lak’ my chest would bust out. I ain’t never felt so awful, not even when I had the whoopin’ cough an’ Pa an’ Jethro nursed me. I know’t that I loved Jethro an’ I hadn’t never told him. T’ain’t manly to show tears an’I shore wish’t I was alone. I wasn’t certain at that moment that I wanted to live ‘thout Jethro.

Finely I blurted out, “What ‘bout Jethro?”

Eli said the gov’ment men got Jethro, who was thrown out, because there was still dew in the truck. Jethro done broke his arm but he all right in the jail down t’ the county seat. He’d done been charged with resistin’ arrest and beatin’ up on an officer. Him, with a broken arm! T’ain’t likely!

Eli asked if it would be awright if he spent th’ night here since it was too long a trip to make it down th’ mountain an’ back th’ next mornin’. I wanted to know if the flatlands doctors fixed up Jethro’s arm an’ Eli said it was taken care of good. He’d seen to it. I asked him how come since he’s sheriff, he let the revenooers arrest Jethro. Eli says there ain’t nothin’ he can do about it. I felt a might relieved to hear that he was all right. Eli made us up some vittles but I cain’t say I was hongry after that news.

Ol’ gruff Eli runs his hand through my hair and says, “It’s gonna be a while, maybe a long while until Jethro get his ass outta that prison, Caleb, boy. But he’s gonna come home someday and you an me are gonna be waitin’ for him.

Me an’ Eli went to bed. I guess more out of habit than thinkin’ I snuggled close to Eli an’ fell asleep. I ain’t got no idear howsome long it was but I woke up. My pecker was ragin’ hard an’ ain’t never felt lak’ it did before. Eli was down under th’ covers. I pushed th’m aside but it was so dark I couldn’t make out anythin’. I felt Eli’s head an’ my pecker hair. Eli had all of my pecker in his mouth!

I ain’t never thunk o’ takin’ anoth’r man’s pecker in my mouth. Don’t seem natural but it shore felt good. I grabbed me a bunch o’ Eli’s black hair an’ begun to drive my ole pecker deeper an’ deeper into his hot ole mouth. T’wasn’t th’ time to wonder effen it was right or wrong, my pecker said it lak’d it an’ that was enough for me. Grabbin’ anoth’r man an’ forcin’ him to suck on my pecker drove me half crazy-lak’. My cods was deman’in’ release an’ I began pumpin’ harder an’ harder. Didn’t make no never mind wheth’r Eli lak’d it or not. I wondered if he’d be upset if I shot my juices, but I didn’t care. He ask’t for it when he done took my pecker in his mouth. I lifted my bum off th’ bed as th’ juices begun t’ shoot straight out an’ in ol’ Eli. Lordy, I could tell he really lak’d it ‘cause he was a’swallerin’ lak it was mother’s milk.

I laid me back on th’ bed while Eli kept a’suckin’. I made him stop ‘cause my pecker was beginnin’ t’ be a’might tender. He come up out of th’ covers an’ laid on his side. His back was to me lak’ I used to sleep with Jethro. I pressed my soft pecker into th’ crack in his bum. He grabbed th’ fingers on one of my han’s an’ put it on his titty an’ wantin’ me to pinch an’ twist it. It was somethin’ he lak’d real good ‘cause he begun to moan an’ carry on lak’ a bitch in heat. Th’ harder I twisted an’ pulled an’ squeezed th’ more he carried on. He begun thrashin’ on his pecker, I could tell. I know’t he wanted to spurt an’ if hurtin’ him got him off, I was willin’ to oblige him, in fact, I enjoyed hurtin’ him. Anybody bringin’ me such bad news, altho I knowed it wasn’t his fault an’ somebody had ta let me know.

Later we rested an’ talked. He told me that he seed Jethro almost everytime he went to th’ general store an’ he would really get his enjoys mouthin’ ol’ Jethro off. I told him that Jethro had taken to boogerin’ me since Pa died, but I didn’t much care for it. Eli said he knew an’ Jethro felt bad about boogerin’ me that’s why he never asked me to mouth him.

We didn’t sleep much that night. I got up an’ added wood to th’ fireplace an’ I had Eli mouth me again. Eli ask’t me effn I would lak t’have him beat me with his belt by way o’ gettin’ my mind off n Jethro an’ I told him that I reckon I would. I got me some pieces of rope an’ he tied me t’ th’ bed, spread out lak’. But I got all hard as he welted my bum. I had to keep from imaginin’ it was Jethro takin’ th’ belt to me like he usta, since I didn’t want t’ shoot all over so soon. He got three kerosene lamps an’ lit th’ room with’m. I guess when my bum was gettin’ hot to th’ touch an’ he went into th’ drawer near th’ bed an’ got some bar’ grease an’ Eli fucked me good an’ proper. He did it jus’ lak Jethro, lak a hog in heat. I lak’d his mouth too, but what he was doin’ t’my bum was so good too, even if it was sore both inside an’ out. Come mornin’ I felt lak’ I wouldn’t make it through th’ day. My ole pecker was sore an’ I never would have thunk that I could spurt so much juice, as when he made me pound it for him agin after he mouthed it agin an’ agin.

Th’y brung Jethro to trial in th’ coum-ty seat an I only got to see him once before he left Eli’s jail in th’ basement o’ th’ courthouse. Jethro hadn’t collected mos’ th’ money fo’ the lightnin’ he sold that day an’ folks come around to me to pay they debts. Eli saw that Jethro would have a good lawyer and wear new store boughten clothes an’ it made me feel proud. They sent Jethro to Charleston.

I ain’t never felt so alone before. I worked th’ still harder than we ever had before just to keep myself busy. Th’ hillside cave was fillin’ up. I knowed that if I ever had to stop for any period o’time, I’d have me a cash crop waitin’in that cave to keep me a’goin’.

Eli would make it up t’ th’ mountain more often an’ he’d tie me up an’ play with me. I was larnin’ how to pleasure him so he wounldn’t have have to take th’ birch saplins t’ me. He’d make me strip off his uniform after I’d let him in th’ cabin an’ we’d both stay nekkid ‘til he left. Then, late one afternoon jes’ about spring plantin’ time, I seen him comin’ up th’ hill with somebody else. Fer a minute I thought it was Jethro but as they got closer, I could see that he had a young man with him. Ain’t never see’d th’ feller before an’ I sort o’ wondered who he was an’ what this was all about.

"I brought you a present, Caleb," Eli smiled as th’ two o’ them come up to th’ house. "Shuck yore togs off, boy."

Lan’ o’goshen if th’ man didn’t get outta his clothes right thar’ in front o’ us. I had to admit he was a fetchin’ lookin’ feller. He must’a been a year o’ two older’n me. He had a man sized pecker an’ his big ol’cods were hung real low.

Eli went o’er to th’ barrel an’ got his-self a swaller of th’ shine. “Well, how do you like him?”

I grunted my okay.

"Paid twenty-five dollars for him from a man who’s on his way to the state pen. Needed the money for the joint and the lad needed somewhere to go. They’re a couple of bikers from Chicago. The boss man thought he could pull off a robbery, but he found we aren’t the hicks he thought we was. He had to sell the bikes to pay for a lawyer. This’n got probation because I asked the judge to go easy on him. Wasn’t his idea leastways."

Wal, I shore guessed I could use me some help ‘roun here. “What ‘bout his folks?”

"Ain’t got any. He knows if he doesn’t make it up here with y’all, he’ll join his boyfriend upstate." He almost said, "An Jethro…"

"This mean, I won’t be gettin’ to see you anymore?"

"Don’t y’all believe it. Think you got enough in you to handle this stud?"

I couldn’t help grinnin’. “I reckon I can. Yessir, I do believe so!”

"Well, I got to leave."

"What’s this cocksucker’s name?" I sorta surprised myself sayin’ that ‘cause o’ what Eli like to do to me those times.

"Thomas, but you can call the sum-bitch anything you want."

Went in th’ bedroom an’ brung twenty-five dollars from th’ half-filled Mason jar that I ain’t buried yet.

"Thankee, Eli. Beholden t’you." I could see he didn’t want to tak’ th’ money, but I ain’t never cottoned to lettin’ me an’ Jethro bein’ beholden to any man effen I c’n help it. ‘Sides, Eli’s kinfolk an’ we friends.

Me an’ Eli walked a piece down th’ road. “Do you reckon th’ asshole might run?” I ask’t, lookin’ at th’ Sheriffs big ol’ badge, shinin’in th’ moonlight.

"I don’t think you have to worry a bit, Caleb. He’s got a need to belong somewhere. Got no folks and Chicago’s along way away. The man who went to the pen told me that Tom’d been owned by a couple of guys ‘fore he bought him. Incidentally, he said he paid a good deal more than twenty-five dollars for him," an he chuckled.

"Well, I thank ye for brungin’ him. I need th’ help ‘round th’ place an’ someone ‘sides the houns to fret over."

"You goin’ to let me suck you som’ mo’ when I come to see you, aren’t you, Caleb boy?"

"Hell, yeah, Eli. Might have you suck th’ new feller’s pecker too. An’ make him suck yers. He oughta be awful good at it by time we see you agin."

"Guess I just have to hurry back," my cocksuckin’ cousin, th’ sheriff grinned.

"Mah genuine pleasure, suh," I say it like I was some kind o’ big plantation owner.

I trekked back to th’ cabin, slow lak’. I was an’ I was’n’t in no hurry to get thar’. Lordy, I got me someone to pester reg’lar-lak an’ I aims to do it right. He ain’t got hisself no kinfolk so t’ain’t no reason to go easy on him. Well, no sense me moseyin’ along lak’ a skeered deer. My pecker was a’jerkin’ upwards at what was ahead. Th’ chickens bin fed an’ th’ mules in their stalls an’ t’wasn’t nothin’ pressin’ to do right now.

As I went into th’ cabin, I seed th’ boy was natchly a’stan’in’ just whar’ we done left him. ‘Cept he turn around an’ got his back to me. I felt lak’ a pig

who done found hisself one o’ th’m deep, mucky wallers an’ jus’ a’plannin’ to make a day o’ it. I paid him no mind at fust. I filled Pa’s corn cob ole pipe with some store-bought t’backy an’ lit it.

"You hongry, boy?" I ask’t as I settled myself into a chair, really admirin’ th’ goods I done bought me.

He older’n me but he mumbled, “Yes, sir.”

"Cain’t hear you."

"Sir, YES, SIR."

"I ain’t deef, boy. You got yourself one mighty set o’ lungs thar’. We both know I’m th’ boss around here now. You kin pour us a cup o’ coffee. They some sweetner up thar’ on th’ shelf an’ som’ lightnin’ to top it off with." I took me a swaller an’ I stopped puffin’ on Pa’s pipe ‘cause th’ lad was makin’ some o’ th’ godawfulest faces. "What’s up, boy? Speak up."

He looked lak’ th’ cat got his tongue, but he managed to say, “I thought you said that was coffee.”

"Why, t’was."

"It didn’t taste like coffee to me."

"Well, I’m a bit partial to chickory an’ th’re might’a been more o’ that than coffee. An’ you gotta git used t’lightnin’. That the business we in."

Th’ fellah put his cup o’ th’ table. He was shiverin’ a litle ‘count o’ no togs on. His big ol’ cock kinda shriveled up. “Drink up, boy. Waste not, want not, sayeth th’ Lord.”

He skootched his face somethin’ God awful as he swigged th’ rest o’ it down. An all that thar’ time he was a’stan’in’ thar’ lak’ a nekkid jaybird. My ole pecker was gettin’ excited lak’. I decided to let it get a bit of air so I pull’t it out an’ jacked it a couple o’times. Young Thomas a’watchin’ it lak’ it was some copperhead who done stuck its fangs out from under th’ mash pot whar’ it done found a warm nest.

"Git over h’yar, boy. You gonna get youself friendly-lak’ with my pecker ‘cause its goin’ to larn to know your ol’ bum real good."

Th’ fellah got hisself on his knees ‘tween my legs an’ he took my pecker in his han’. Man, I cain’t ‘member when it got so dang hard before. It was a’throbbin’ in his fist. I just lean’t back in my chair, puffin’ away at my pipe. Then, Thomas bent his curly head over it. I figgered he was lookin’ down its barrel. Sudden-lak’ he took my pecker in his mouth an’ I thought I’d faint dead away lak’ some women do when they a’birthin’. Th’ hair on my head got as het up as my pecker. Eli needed to larn somethin’ from this cocksucker. He sucked away an’ he took it all down that throat o’ his. Whoevah taught this one how to pleasure a man, knew they business. I lay th’ pipe on th’ table next to my cup, reached down an’ took his haid in my han’s an’ began pushin’ an’ pullin’ his mouth up an’ down on my pecker. Twas lak’ jackin’ only th’ mouth was hot an’ wet an’ it was suckin’ my guts out. ‘Fore long my balls give a bit o’ warnin’ an’ they jus’ let loose. Mah ‘boy’ sucked an’ swallered, not missin’ a lick o’ thet juice.

As I rested back in my chair an’ my pecker shriveled up lak’ some wee gnat, I tole th’ boy eff’n he knew how to cook, t’go through th’ shelfs an’ make us some beans, taters an’ fry a slab of ham I cured a month earlier. He was a damn sight better cook than either me or Jethro. Th’ rest o’ th’ evenin’, we got to knowin’ each oth’r better. He tole me stories o’ Chicago an’ th’ men who had owned him in th’ past. He tole me how th’m thar’ men went around in pants made outta cowhide, like cowboys out West, only these was black. Seemed mighty strange to me but I ain’t never been to Chicago or nowhere else fo’ that matter. I wasn’t about to discombobulate myself with th’m thar’ things. I kind o’ sensed that me an’ this Thomas was goin’ to make out real good.

THE REST OF THE STORY IN IN THE COUNTRY BOYS FOLDER

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DUSTIN                 STORY

Dustin and the Psychiatrist


Dustin sat anxiously in the waiting room for his first meeting with the psychiatrist.  There was a free counseling center on campus, but the twenty-one year old senior needed to keep his “problem” a
secret, even if that meant paying $200 a session.  Dustin would have to drop out
of school if gossip got around.  He would never survive the humiliation.

Dustin was a clean-cut with wholesome good looks. He didn’t seem at all
like someone with a problem only a shrink could solve.  To describe him he has longish dark blond locks dangled over his large green eyes.  Dustin had a slight
cleft in his chin, dimples in his cheeks when he smiled, soft pink very full  lips,
perfect teeth. He was fairly tall with broad shoulders, not especially muscular but well-shaped and well-proportioned with a slim waist and narrow hips.  He wore a white Polo shirt tucked into a pair of pressed khakis hugging his perfect round butt.

Dustin desperately needed help. His problem was too embarrassing
to admit to anyone but a professional. It would be difficult, but he was prepared to
confess everything to the psychiatrist.  Life couldn’t go on this way for him.

"Dr. Ezinwa will see you now," announced the receptionist.

The door to the doctor’s office opened.  A tall, strikingly sharp black man
with a Brooklyn fade and goatee, sporting an expensive black wool suit with
matching vest, stood there smiling.  He was one of the handsomest men Dustin had ever seen.  His skin was very dark, a deep rich brown.  He had penetrating grey eyes.

"Come in, Dustin,"  

said the psychiatrist in a warm, deep
baritone with an un-place able foreign accent. 

"I hope you haven’t been waiting long."

Dustin gulped. Admitting his problem to Dr. Ezinwa was going to be a lot harder than he expected.

Dr. Udeme Ezinwa offered Dustin a seat on the sofa. He sat opposite Dustin in a large armchair. The office was lined with books. There was a well-organized desk with a framed picture of a beautiful black
woman and two young boys, evidently his wife and children.  Diplomas hung
on the wall.  The only light came from the large windows hung with plants. It was
a relaxed and comfortable setting.

"You don’t look old enough to be a psychiatrist," said Dustin.

"Thank you for the compliment," chuckled Dr. Ezinwa. "I happen
to be 28 years old. I was born in Nigeria, but I was educated in this country. Let
me assure you, however, that I am completely qualified to help you. On the
surface, you appear to be a normal, red-blooded American boy. Tell me, what
is troubling you?”

"I don`t … I don’t know if I can tell you," Dustin faltered.
"It’s hard for me to talk about. I’m afraid you won’t understand."

"Anything you say in this office is kept between us," Dr. Ezinwa assured
him. 
"And trust me, nothing you say will shock me. You could not conceive of the things I have  seen in my homeland, from loving to dying."

Although this man was only seven years older than he was, there was something in his deep, strong voice that steadied Dustin and lent him confidence. Dr. Ezinwa looked youthful, but his voice was
resonant with sincerity and wisdom. Dustin felt he could trust this man.

"Tell me about yourself," suggested the psychiatrist.  "Just relax and take
your time.  There is no problem so big that we can’t deal with it.”

"Okay, I’ll try," said Dustin. "To begin with, I suppose that I should tell you I’m gay."

"I see, just looking at you I am willing to bet you are a sought after young man." said Dr. Ezinwa thoughtfully.

Dustin looked into the Nigerian’s dark eyes to gauge his reaction.  He was struck again by how youthful and handsome the doctor appeared. And the man had paid him quiet a compliment.

Dustin couldn’t help but wonder what the doctor looked like without the suit. If
Dustin had passed Dr. Ezinwa on campus, he would have taken him for an athlete. Or maybe a model.  Ezinwa could have been either.

The irony of having to tell his problem to a black doctor was oppressive, but Dustin reminded himself that Dr. Ezinwa was a professional. He had to trust him, no matter how embarrassing. In fact Dustin began to think about it with eagerness.

"Is your sexual orientation significant to the problem that has brought you here?" asked the doctor, gently.

"Yes, it is," sighed Dustin. "I’m afraid it has everything to do with my sex life. Not my being gay however,  I quite willingly accept that."

"Explain," said the doctor, whose professional request somehow echoed in
Dustin’s ears like a command.

"I’m gay, OK? " said Dustin. "I’ve known that about myself since as early as I can remember. It’s like I’ve always had this attraction for men.  For cock, actually. I like to suck cock.  I’m not ashamed of that."

"That’s good to hear," Dr. Ezinwa consoled.  "There’s nothing for you to be ashamed of. Homosexuality is no longer considered a psychiatric disorder.
You were born into it.  In fact, homosexuality is actually more
prevalent  among some groups than was previously understood.  Please, go on.”

"It’s like this. I’ve been sexually active since I was sixteen. 
I’ve sucked a lot of cocks since then - mostly pick-ups and one night stands, but only once a week, usually on Friday or Saturday night.”

"That isn’t what’s bothering you, is it," asked Dr. Ezinwa, rhetorically.

"No, sucking a different cock each week didn’t bother me," replied Dustin. "The thing is, I was always attracted to men who were — this is so hard for me to talk about."

Dr. Ezinwa assured the patient, 
"You will feel better if you just tell me
everything.”

Dustin hesitated, then summoned his resolve and went on: “The only guys I
had sex with were white men like myself. Then, about six months, I went
home with this black guy.  I met him at a gay bar. After that, everything changed.”

Dr. Ezinwa nodded with understanding.  “Go on, Dustin. Tell me what changed.”

"I never had anything against black men for sexual partners," elaborated
Dustin. “It’s just that I preferred white guys.  I only went home with
Curtis that night because I was so horny, but it turned out to be the best sex I ever had.”

"What was it like with this Curtis that made it so different from the white
men you had been with?”

"That’s just it, I don’t really know," said Dustin.  "He had a really nice cock, and I spent the night blowing him. He really enjoyed the experience. He talked dirty to me. I guess that really turned me on, because the nastier he talked, the more demanding and crude he became, the
more I just wanted to give him the blowjob of his life.  Does that make me a slut, doctor?”

"Not at all," said Dr. Ezinwa in his deep, reassuring voice. 
"It simply means that you have a healthy libido for a gay man. But think back upon this incident. Was there anything else that struck you as unusual at the time?"

"Well, there was one thing," said Dustin. "It was his body odor."

"His body odor?"

"Yes, the way he smelled when I had my face pressed to his crotch.  I’m sorry, doctor, should I stop? Is this awkward for you?"

"Dustin, nothing you say can embarrass me. I’ve dealt with all kinds of
human conflicts. Tell me about your reaction to his body odor.”

"It was so intense, like I never smelled a real man before. It was like a
hundred locker rooms distilled into a concentrated aroma.  His crotch
smelled like musk, but sweeter and stronger. I can’t describe it. It was an
exotic perfume. I know it sounds crazy, but it made me want to suck his
cock even more than usual.  I couldn’t get enough. The white guys I’d been with usually came quickly and silently like they were in a hurry or something, but Curtis just took his time. He seemed to luxuriate in it. He told me exactly how to
pleasure his cock, when and how to suck, where to lick, that sort of thing. For the first time in my life I actually felt like I was
truly worshipping a cock, that his pleasure was more important than my own. When
he finally had an orgasm, I never swallowed so much cum before.
I never needed it so badly. It was an incredible experience.”

"Then what happened?"

"The next weekend I went home with a white bodybuilder. He had a fantastic
body with a nice cock, but after sucking him off, I wasn’t  satisfied.
I needed more. It happened again the weekend after that. Another white guy
with a decent sized cock, but no real satisfaction. I felt incomplete.”

"What did you do?"

"From that point on I have only had sex with black men," Dustin sighed.  "I
don’t know why, but I don’t get the same feeling from sucking white guys any more.”

"You Americans have a saying, don’t you?" said Dr. Ezinwa, with the barest hint of amusement. "Once you go black…"

"…you don’t go back," finished Dustin. "I guess it’s true, huh? The problem is, now I can’t get enough black cock. I went from giving blowjobs once a week to needing it every single night. Ever since that time with Curtis, only black cocks seem to satisfy me. Every night I get so horny
that I go out looking for more black cock to suck. I’ve ended up in dives, train
stations, the park, just hoping some horny black man will come along needing a blowjob. I’ve even paid for it. Two nights ago I gave a homeless black Man $100 to suck his cock because I had to have it. It was like a craving.”

"I see," said the doctor matter-of-factly, almost indifferently.
"Is that all?"

"There’s one more thing, I guess," said Dustin, gaining confidence.  "When
I’m with a black man, my cock doesn’t get hard anymore. I’m horny as hell,
but for some reason my cock goes soft. It’s only after the encounter that I’m able to masturbate. And that is when I get home, and the image before me is watching what has just occurred, like I was watching a movie.”

"Let me ask you a very personal question," said the doctor. 
"Would you say that you have a large  penis?"

"No, not really," said Dustin. "I’m about six inches hard, maybe six and a half on a good day."

"And the black Men you’ve been with, would you consider them, shall we say,
more generously endowed?”

"Oh,  not all of them," said Dustin. "Most of them have been at least bigger than I am. Some as long, some even larger. I don’t really know if  the rumors are true."

"The rumors?"

"That black men have bigger cocks than whites."

"I see," smiled Dr. Ezinwa. "Well, most rumors have a basis in fact, or so it would seem, although to be sure there is room for exaggeration."

"What’s wrong with me, doctor?" pleaded Dustin. "My grades are suffering. I
can’t sleep. All I think about anymore is sucking black cocks and swallowing a black man’s sperm. It’s like I can’t get enough! What is wrong with me?”

"There is nothing wrong with you," said Dr. Ezinwa, calmly. 
"This is a fairly common occurrence when there are sexual relations between white
males such as yourself and black men.”

"Can you help me, doctor?" begged Justin. "I want to stop. I mean, I like sucking cock, but this has got me out of control. I can’t help myself."

"You must try to understand," said Dr. Ezinwa, "that this compulsion you
feel is unavoidable. The societal injunction against sexual contact between the races is based on something more than mere racial prejudice. There is a reason why white people should not encounter black men sexually. We are often drawn to what others might call a taboo. In my own
country, there is a clear understanding of this problem, but unfortunately in America where black and white men live side by side this problem is doomed to constantly recur.”

The Nigerian psychiatrist explained further: “You see, as some theories have been laid out that it was never meant
That, Caucasians such as yourself should be exposed to African men, not on sexual terms. There are too many cultural and physiological differences to go into, but to be brief, white males like yourself are totally unprepared for the consequences. There is an image of strength that is seen in black men that they are strong animals, that they control their surroundings, flashing back to the primitive black man in the jungles of Africa.  But I believe  there happens to be a pheromone in the black man’s sweat glands that induces sexual surrender. It was indented to assure  reproductiveness of the species. You probably don’t know that the white race is a subsidiary, genetically impoverished line descended from black Africans.  Where it is thought that life began, in Africa that is. Inhaling the scent of black men you fell under the biological imperative usually experienced by women. The black  man’s  pheromones have the effect on women of making them sexually submissive.
It’s simply Nature’s way of assuring the procreation of the strong.”

Dr. Ezinwa concluded, 
"So you see, after inhaling your friend
Curtis’s pheromones and ingesting his preconceived biologically superior seed, you found yourself addicted, if that is not too strong a term, to black men.”

"But it’s ruining my life," said Dustin, almost in tears.  "I can’t think of anything else but sucking Black cock. I want it all the time. The man doesn’t have to be good looking, or big in stature, just black!"

"It’s sad, really," said Dr. Ezinwa. "There actually is no cure."

“Isn’t there anything I can do?” begged Dustin. All he wanted was to be free of this compulsion, haunted night and day by pornographic thoughts of black cocks spilling with hot African sperm, driven to seek out black men for sexual relief.

"There is no cure," said Dr. Ezinwa. "All that I can offer you is temporary relief from your insatiable cravings."

It was then that Dustin saw that Dr. Ezinwa had unzipped his pleated woolen slacks. The doctor slowly pulled out a large, but soft, uncircumcised  black cock, some five inches long.

“Would you like to step over here? “
Dustin got up from the couch and moved hesitantly but excitedly .
“This is what you want, isn’t it?” inquired Dr. Ezinwa.  His deep accent was almost hypnotic, but no more so than the sight of his exposed, soft, thick, velvety black penis. 

Dustin saw before him what the Dr. had suggested, strength, power to procreate, that meant one of the persons had to submit.

"Do you consider my bura to be large?"

"Your bura?"

"I’m sorry," apologized the doctor. "Bura is the term my people use for penis."

"Well, yes, I am fascinated by your bura it is as you have stated an image of life.” said Dustin.

"Do you feel the desire to suck my bura right now, adabesi?"

"Adabsi?"

"Again, I apologize," said the doctor. "Adebesi is what my people call a man who sucks penises like a woman.  It is also a term we sometimes use to refer to  Europeans and white Americans, such as yourself.  Tell me, do you feel the desire to suck my bura, adebesi?”

"Ah, yes… I do," admitted Dustin. He couldn’t take his eyes off that velvety, Nigerian cock.

"Then, I suggest you come over here right now kneel before this power and see how it feels in your mouth," said the doctor.

It was not a suggestion. In any case, Dustin couldn’t help himself. He was on his knees before the doctor at once.

"Kiss the head of my bura," instructed the doctor.

Dustin planted a sloppy wet kiss on the huge sheathed phallus. He felt it
quiver and swell at the touch of his lips.  There was so much vibrant power
contained in that pipe of ebony flesh.

"Now, I want you to lick the shaft up and down like you were licking a
lollipop, enjoy it as you have seemed to have done to less inferior black men before me,do you understand? What you are looking at is what you have become to perceive as power. And that the seed that will flow from it will bring you a sense of power, no matter how misplaced. For it cannot be truly quenched, nor transferred from dick to belly.”

"Yes, Sir," said Dustin.

"You called me Sir, do you realize that?"

"You’re a doctor," Dustin replied.

"Have you addressed the other black men you’ve serviced as Sir?"

"Yes, I guess so," the whiteboy acknowledged.

"That’s good, adabesi," said Dr. Ezinwa. "It’s a sign you know your place will always seem to be at the foot of what you might perceive as life."

"My place?" asked Dustin.

"Your place, what?" demanded the Nigerian.

"My place … Sir?"

"That’s a good boy," said the doctor. "You’re learning."

There was no longer merely a hint of amusement. Dustin could hear the
irresistable authority in the Nigerian’s deep, masculine voice. 
"Now, show me how much you want to please my bura. Start sucking, suck this thing that you foolishly think will bring you power."

The Nigerian’s cock swelled up and stiffened inside Dustin’s hot, wet
mouth. It grew so seemingly  big that Dustin had to stretch open his mouth as wide as possible. The girth of Dr. Ezinwa’s cock crammed his mouth entirely. It had
to be at least nine inches, probably more. Dustin could not accept that white men can and are often as big.

As the seamily huge, thick black cock forced its way down into Dustin’s throat, the whiteboy’s face came close to the doctor’s pubic hair. The musky scent was
overwhelming. Dustin’s own cock was soft, but his horniness increased in  minutes all Dustin did was suck up and down on this  phallus.  Time seemed to stand still.

The doctor leaned back in his chair and issued instructions. His accent became more pronounced.

"Suck my bura, whiteboy," 
he commanded. 
"Suck it for me good. Show my bura
the respect it deserves. That’s right, suck it hard, use your mouth, lips, and throat to respect my bura. Take all of it inside you. Suck on it. This is what you need, my little white American boy. There is no turning back.”

Dustin sucked furiously. It hurt his jaw and throat taking so much cock in
his mouth, but he persisted. He had to have it. The Nigerian’s delicious
body odor seemed to possess him. He had to have this bura. He had to earn
its reward. He wanted more than anything else to please the tall, muscular African in his expensive suit.

After forty minutes of intensive fellatio, Dustin felt the Nigerian’s bura begin to throb until it exploded with one burst of sperm after another. The hot, foamy cum filled his mouth.

"Swallow my seed, adabesi!"  
said the doctor. 
"Swallow it! Try to take power from it!"

Dustin did as he was told, forcing the copious ejaculate down his esophagus.

"You did a good job, little whiteboy," said Ezinwa, breathing heavily after his orgasm but still maintaining a professional composure. "Yes, that was
What you wanted, right? And it was very good, but there is still room for improvement. And other orifices to plant this seed you think of as power to be transferred to you.”

The doctor rose and zipped up his pants. Dustin was still on his knees, looking up at the man he had hoped would help him with his problem.

"As I informed you," said Dr. Ezinwa, "there is no cure for your condition. What matters now is that you become reconciled to your proper place in life. You will always be a cocksucker. There is no changing  that. Only now you understand, I think, that cock sucking is not for your selfish pleasure alone. We will have to work on your acceptance of this fact."

"Then there is no hope for me?" asked Dustin.

"Hope? There is much hope for you, my little aibu." That last word was pronounced `oyee-bo.’ "I’m sorry, that is another word used in my country. Aibu means a caucasian.  Perhaps in time you will prove
yourself to be of much use to all black men, but much more practice is required.
Tell me, did you enjoy sucking my bura and swallowing my seed?”

"Yes, very much," said Dustin, relishing the taste of Dr.Ezinwa’s sperm lingering in his mouth.

"Many more treatments are required before you can reach your full potential. You are only beginning to learn what it means to worship a real man," said Dr. Ezinwa. 
"Pay the receptionist on your way out.
Your next session will be tomorrow at 10 AM, do you understand?”

"Yes, Sir," Dustin complied. "But my classes, Sir.  I’m doing terribly in
school right now because of this obsession. All I think about is black cock.”

"Don’t think of it as an obsession. You must learn to make priorities in life. In the long run, which is really more important,. how well you perform in school or how well you perform for black men? I want you to
give that some serious consideration. However, for the time being, you will not have to search the streets, you know you have what you need here, and that should quench your physical needs, school  you can now take care of,  knowing that I have the only bura. I want you to only bura I want you to think about is mine, do you understand? I want you
to focus on my bura from now on. Knowing that your success in school will become directly related to your performance for and with me. If you see another black man, I want you to resist submitting to him. I expect you to bring your desires to me. Do you understand me, aibu?”

"Yes, Sir," said Dustin.

"There is one more thing," added Dr. Ezinwa. "I don’t want you to masturbate until we meet again. In fact, I don’t want you to masturbate until you have permission from me, do you understand?  There are other ways in which your Caucasian body can be of use to this black man, but we will explore those possibilities at another time, and I will show you how to  get relief as you give relief,  do you understand me?"

"Yes, Sir, I understand," said Dustin meekly but with real admiration. His rectum tingled and perspired like a cunt lubricated with desire, anticipating the
Nigerian’s intentions.

"Then, I will see you tomorrow, aibu."

Dustin left the doctor’s office, feeling for the first time in months that there was hope. Distanced from the Nigerian’s masterful
presence, Dustin  felt his inadequate white cock begin to stiffen, but he was going to take the doctor’s prescription and wait for permission to relieve himself. He looked forward to the next session with extreme anticipation.

After Dustin left, the handsome Nigerian doctor sat behind his desk and
muttered to himself, 

"Typical American faggot."

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