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Subject: {ASSM} Conquering the Black Body: The Young Panhandler
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Date: Fri, 26 Jan 2007 08:10:02 -0500
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This is a work of fiction. It is not intended to be read by minors. It
includes acts of homosexuality and dialogue with racial slurs. If you
are offended by this kind of fantasy, please search for something else
to read.

*************************************

It was a slow day in Grady Hall. I man the research lounge for graduate
students, but in the dead of winter the lounge gets very little use.
Most of the time students in my department want to use the lounge in
spring and autumn, when they have to prepare for the intense
competition at professional conferences. So, I had the entire lounge to
myself. I sprawled out on the couch to grade undergraduate papers. John
Coltrane's Love Supreme CD was playing in the background. I found
myself drifting off to sleep and decided to make a run to Starbucks to
get a jolt of coffee.

As I crossed the courtyard on the campus I braced myself for the usual
begging from black teenagers. Usually young boys, between the ages of
thirteen and seventeen, flock to the campus to prey upon white guilt by
selling boxes of candy, ostensibly to promote after school football
teams. I've always been suspicious of these efforts; how good can
their team be if they spend all their practice time selling candy? It
seemed to me that whatever program they were in was preparing them for
a role as permanent beggars in society. I know inner city teams need to
raise money, but these kids are pounding the street almost all year,
whenever the weather is nice.

Nevertheless, I have always felt pains of guilt in having to turn these
boys down. They created awkward moments for me. On the one hand I
wanted to embrace them, support their cause, get close to them and give
them money - but on the other hand I knew it was all just an
illusion. As soon as I forked over my cash they would move on to the
next sucker.

I always thought it was a huge waste having those black boys out there
selling candy in the first place. Whoever puts them up to it should
know that those boys could raise 100s of times more cash just by
unfastening their trousers for people with money, and letting them
sniff their funky athletic teenaged groins and pubes. They should have
them remove their jerseys while customers sniff under their arm pits
and lick between their black bubble butt ass cheeks. The boys are
selling the wrong product, and they are getting mere dollars when they
should be pulling in 100s.

As I cross the yard I hear a husky youthful voice, "Hey, mah man -
you got $5 you can spare?" I looked at the boy. I was annoyed
thinking, five dollars - and he's not even offering me candy? I
shot him an impatient glance, but I was captivated by his smooth
caramel brown face, the faint line of baby hair above his upper lip -
attempting to become a mustache, and his dark sandy-brown nappy hair
braided into corn rows. I saw both defiance and disappointment in his
hazel eyes, as if he expected to be told to get lost.

An imp entered my body and I mischievously said, "I'm sure a cute
boy like you could make a lot more than five dollars if he sold the
right product."

The boy's facial expression changed, as if someone has just vomited
down his throat, "Ewww, you's some kinda faggot - aint you?"

It felt good to turn the tables on this young panhandler, making him
feel awkward for a change. "You need the money don't you? I'm not
asking you to do anything that any other dude your age wouldn't do in
order to make some extra cash."

The boy puffed out his chest and emboldened his voice as if to clear up
a point of mistaken identity, "I aint gay, yo."

While teasing the boy was fun, I didn't want to spend too much time
with him and run the risk of causing a scene. I quickened my pace in
the direction of Starbucks, but called over my shoulder, "I didn't
say you were gay. I just thought I heard you say you wanted some extra
cash but I guess I was mistaken. My bad. I was going to offer you $25
for practically nothing, but that's okay."

I laughed inside as I thought, "Did I just say what I heard myself
say? Have I just come on to a perfectly straight black boy and gotten
away with it, without him making a big public scene about it? Good
thing none of his buddies are around to hear this!"

Before I could get too far away I heard the boy call out, "Hey yo -
$25? Is you for real?"

This is too much. I couldn't believe he was really considering the
offer. I suppressed a laugh. "Yeah, I'm for real - but only if
you're worth it."

I waited as the boy rushed to catch up with me, grabbing his pants by
the waist to keep them from falling off of his ass. When he is close
enough so that we could talk in a low voice he said, "I ain't into
no faggot shit though."

By now I was genuinely getting aroused. What began as a game to
embarrass the boy had developed into serious negotiations. "You
don't have to be a faggot; I'm only asking you to come up to a
comfortable lounge and strip naked for me while I beat off. I bet you
have lots of hot young ladies chasing after you. I bet you make those
girls cry and moan with your big, thick, black cock, huh? I'm just
asking you to earn some extra cash while you show it to me."

The boy's tender face was a portrait of confusion. He seemed to be
carefully weighing his options. He looked at his feet; his eyes darted
rapidly from side to side while he pressed his thumb between his teeth.


Finally, he looked up at me with his scrutinizing hazel eyes, "You
betta not try to touch my ass. I aint playin about that gay shit."

I tried to affect a deliberately condescending tone, "Don't worry.
There are lots of men who enjoy other men without wanting to fuck them.
In fact, many men would pay you to let them suck your dick and to have
you fuck them in the ass rather than the other way around. Just because
you take advantage of these men doesn't mean that you're a
faggot."

The boy's eyes looked doubtful.

I continued in a calm and reassuring voice, "I know you're not gay.
You've got my respect. In fact, that's why I'm willing to pay to
look at your body. And nobody else even has to know it."

The boy was silent. He bit on his lower lip and stared at the ground.
I felt I had given the effort my best shot and I was not sure I wanted
to pursue this any further.

I turned back toward Starbucks but added, "I was just saying I'll
bet you have a cute body and I'd like to pay you to let me take a
look at it. But if you don't want to do it that's fine with me."
As I walked away I couldn't resist adding the kicker, "Anyway, none
of your little buddies around here seem to have any problem dropping
their pants for a few extra dollars on the side."

The boy looked incredulous, "What the fuck? What? They do that?"

"Sure they do," I lied, "You don't think they make all of that
money just by selling candy, do you?"

The boy's mind seemed to be a whirling. As I left him standing there
I added, "Maybe next time. You think about it."

It didn't take long for him to call out to me again, "Yo - yo."
He ran to catch up with me, still holding his trousers up by the waist.
"Okay, okay - maybe we can do this. Yeah, yeah - let's do
this." His eyes shifted nervously and his voice quivered as if he
were trying to convince himself.

I dropped the Starbucks plan and headed back with the boy to Grady
Hall. On the way back he kept pressing me, "Okay, so alls I gotta do,
right? Alls I gotta do is take off my clothes and you'll give me $25
- right?"

I smiled, "Well, not so fast bucko. I mean, I like to take my time
with these things. I have to be able to enjoy myself. I wanna be able
to get off, if you know what I'm saying?"

The boy looked at me suspiciously, "What chu mean?"

"Oh, nothing really. It's not really such a big deal. I just want
to be able to run my hands over your body, sniff under your arm pits
and maybe suck your cock a little."

The boy froze in his tracks and looked at me as if I were a piece of
garbage. "What chu wanna sniff under my arm pits for? Why you wanna
suck on my dick?"

I tried to pass it off as calmly as possible and kept walking toward
the Hall, "Well that's just how I get off. I like the smell of a
boy's body. I like to feel a boy's cock grow hard in my mouth. It
helps me to shoot my load. And the sooner I shoot my load, the sooner
you get paid, right?"

The boy walked slowly behind me; he was trailing me as if at any moment
he might decide that the whole thing was a mistake and he wanted to
back out. I looked over my shoulder at him, "Hey, it's a quick and
easy way to make $25 dollars, right?"

He seemed to mull this over in his mind a bit. He looked around,
probably to see if any of his homeboys were watching. Then he tugged on
his trousers, "Yeah, let's do this. Let's get this over with."

When we arrived at the lounge in Grady Hall and I locked the door the
boy quickly pulled off his sweat shirt and was attempting to remove his
T-shirt.

"Hey, hey - not so fast. I wanna hold you in my arms for a little
bit. I want to feel your body pressed against mine."

He gave me an impatient look, rolled his eyes and stood like a statue
while I caressed his body and rubbed my hands over his shoulder blades
and the small of his back. I buried my nose in his neck and breathed in
the masculine smells of his youthful manliness.

I slowly helped him to ease out of the rest of his clothes, tossing his
T-shirt on the couch and unfastening his trousers, letting them drop to
the floor over his Timberland boots.

I pulled his boxer shorts below his hips, allowing his long, thick
black cock to swing freely and exposing his lush bush of pubic hair. I
breathed in the smell of his public hair and took a few quick swipes at
his nigger dick with my tongue, making his dick swing like a thick
black pendulum. I lowered my head further and warmly bathed his nut
sack with my tongue.

When he didn't protest I became emboldened. I took longer and slower
licks on his cock and noticed that his dick was beginning to respond to
the teasing, even if the response was involuntary. I slipped his
hardening cock into my mouth and massaged it with my tongue and lips.
His cock quickly expanded, filling my mouth with his hot manhood. I
felt his body tense and heard him gasp, but he still stood stiff like a
statue.

I rubbed my hands up and down the smooth curves of his body, feeling
his buttocks, his back and the back of his thighs. When I felt his
throbbing cock head pulsating against the back of my mouth, I withdrew
and leaned back.

"Oh, baby - this just isn't really doing it for me, and you want
me to get off so you can get paid, don't you?"

I looked up at the boy and his face was a portrait of frustration and
confusion. He nodded his head vigorously, "Just keep suckin my dick
while you beat off and maybe you can nutt and I can get the fuck outta
here."

I leaned on the couch, taking in the full view of his handsome youthful
manhood, shaking my head. "No, that's not going to do it. Tell you
what; I think I have a better idea. How about if I pay you twice as
much cash so that you can suck on my dick for awhile and let me stick
my fingers in your ass."

The boy reeled back in loud prostest, "Aww, hell naw! I aint
suckin' no muthafucka's dick! Aint nobody stickin' they fingas up
my ass! Fuck dat shit! Just gimme my $25 so I can jet."

I tried to calm him down, patiently rubbing the back of his thigh.
"Okay, baby - okay. I'm not asking you to do anything I haven't
already done for you. I just thought that maybe you might want to speed
things up and make twice as much cash in the bargain, but that's okay
if you don't want it. I'll just keep my $50 and take my time doing
what we've been doing until I'm able to get off, okay?"

The boy was silent for awhile. I resumed licking his balls. His cock
was semi-hard as I slid it back into my mouth. Then I heard his voice,
which sounded deeper than it had earlier, "$50 huh?"

I just nodded my head and continued sucking his cock.

After another pause he added, "You for real?"

I just nodded my head and continued sucking. By now his cock was fully
hardened once again. I pushed my face all the way down to the base of
the shaft and tasted his precum trickling on my tongue.

There was another long silence. The only sound in the lounge was that
of my mouth slurping on his long, hard cock. He felt his breathing
getting heavier. He let out another sigh and tapped me on the shoulder,
"Okay - okay, man."

His voice was barely audible, it was practically a mumble. I had to ask
him to clarify what he was saying, "Okay, what?"

"Okay - for $50 I'ma suck yo' dick, but we gotta get this over
with quick."

I held his hard cock in my hand and smiled. I continued to lick the
head and shift of his cock as I clarified the deal with him. "For $50
you'll give me a little bit of head and let me stick my fingers in
your ass?"

The boy was impatient, "Yeah, yeah, man - whatever. Let's just
get this shit over with."

I stood up and had him lie on the couch face down. I knelt beside the
couch, spread his ass cheeks and slowly eased my dry, unlubricated
fingers inside his butt hole. The boy winced. I pushed my fingers in
and out of his hole in a rhythmic fucking motion. The boy whispered
curses, "Fuck man. Shit, dat hurt. Owww. Fuck it. Shit. Damn." He
buried his face in his folded arms, lifting his head up from time to
time to wince with pain.

The expression on his face made me finger fuck him harder and more
vigorously. "Yeah, you got a tight black hole there, nigger." I let
the word "nigger" slide out of the side of my mouth so that it
sounded more like a grunt than an actual word - it was indistinct,
but clearly implied. He could hear it, but couldn't be quite sure
that he heard me properly.

I kept finger fucking his ass. He groaned with pain. "Take those
fingers up your ass, nigger." I applied more pressure and watched his
face redden despite his brown skin. The boy looked at me annoyed, "Is
you about through yet?"

I tried to suppress a laugh, "Don't worry, I'm getting there.
I'm getting there."

He turned his head away from me with disgust and tears in his eyes,
"Well hurry the fuck up muthafucka, that shit hurts."

He buried his face back in his folded arms and I pushed deeper inside
of him.

I whispered in his ear, "Oh yeah, rapin' that black butt hole,
nigger."

His body bounced up and down on the couch keeping pace with the thrust
of my fingers in his ass. After about ten minutes of hearing his moans
and groans I pulled my fingers out of ass and motioned for him to make
some room for me on the couch. I pulled down my trouser and sat beside
his head. He backed away, on hands and knees, his aching butt high in
the air.

I looked over at him while I stroked my cock, "I'm almost there.
I'm almost there. Put your mouth on my cock to make me cum or I can
go back to finger fucking your ass - either way, it's up to you."

A wave of anxiety flashed over the boy's face. He rubbed his ass with
his hand and grimaced. I grabbed the back of his nappy corn-rowed head
and pushed his face toward my crotch, "Get your mouth on that dick,
boy - I don't have a lot of time to waste."

To my surprise I felt his thick black lips enveloping my cock. The
warmth and wetness of his mouth made me grow hard instantly. He was
clearly inexperienced so I had to coach him a little bit at first,
"Watch the teeth, my man - watch the teeth. Use your lips. Use
those thick, black, nigger lips. Atta boy - that's the way to do
it. Now, you're catching on."

I looked down at the boy and his face was filled with pain and
humiliation. His fleshy lips were snuggly wrapped around my thick white
cock. I pushed the back of his nappy head up and down, making him bob
on my dick. I thrust my hips forward so that I could fuck deeper inside
of his mouth. For a moment he managed to pull his face off my cock. He
looked up at me in fear and anger, "You betta not nutt in my mouth,
muthafucka."

I looked down at him and laughed, "Don't worry, my man - I
won't 'nutt' in your mouth."

I felt the cum rising up the length of my shaft. I couldn't control
myself any longer. I yanked his head up off of my dick and shot my load
all over my thighs, belly, and the couch.

The boy looked relieved and somewhat disoriented. I glanced at his
shriveled cock and reached toward it, "Want me to get that hard for
you again? Want me to take care of it for you?"

He pulled back in revulsion and waved his hands to block me, "Naw,
naw, man. Thas okay. I'm cool. I'm cool."

I sat on the couch, admiring his body as he quickly tossed on his
clothes. Without having to be asked I pulled out my wallet and give him
a fifty dollar bill, and slid in an extra twenty as a "bonus."

The boy tried to suppress his surprise, but I could see the hint of
excitement on his face.

He pulled on his jacket and made his way to the door. I called out to
him, "Are you okay with what we just did?"

Without looking back he mumbled, "I'm cool. I'm cool."

As he departed I said, "Later, my man."

He gave me a sideways peace sign, but I was sure he would just as soon
have given me the finger were it not for the fact that he was
entertaining the prospect of doing this again sometime.

I stood by the window and watched him cross the courtyard below. The
other boys had returned to the yard to sell their boxes of candy. He
brushed right past them with confident strides, his hand thrust in his
pocket. He clutched the cash he had just made - seventy times the
value of a normal sale for the other boys.

I watched him disappear into the traffic. That was one panhandler I
wouldn't mind running into again.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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