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Subject: Title story: "African Prince" Author: Incestor 50294106
From: Incestor <familyincest@graffiti.net>
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Date: Sun, 31 Jul 2005 07:15:07 +0000
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African Prince Chapter 1
As Mikey mechanically got off the schoolbus and turned toward his house he
mentally kicked himself for missing his stop again. The monotony of six years of
elementary school and a year and a half of junior high had given him an uncanny
ability to zone out and disappear into his own mind. Unfortuanately the ability
reared itself regularly, wanted or not. He reassured himself that it was no big
deal. He would walk an extra half mile or so today.
As Mikey walked, still in the fog that had caused him to miss his stop, he
kicked rocks, garbage, sticks and any other targets that happened to come in
range of his foot without forcing him to break stride. What was really on his
mind however was the erection he had sprung on the bus thinking about his
neighbor Julie Osbourne. He had come to think she was the cutest girl in school.
Julie had moved to town two years earlier. Although she lived right down the
street from Mikey and was always especially kind to him in school, he was just
too shy to pursue anything. They often talked in school and she was downright
flirtateous with him at times. Although he enjoyed this immensely, his shyness
was overpowering. He always wanted to further the relationship, but he could
only manage to do so in his fantasies.
Perhaps his shyness arose from the fact that he felt so out of place in his
small, White, largely Christian town. Mikey's Mom was African, and his father
had been of Native American descent. His Mom was a deeply spiritual person, but
this quality seemed to Mikey to come out as eccentricity. The house was
thoroughly decorated with African and Native American art. To Mikey it was all
just a reminder of how different his house was from everyone else's in town.
Trying to think of other things, Mikey managed to get his erection down to a
softer, controlled, less visible phenomena before he entered the house. His Mom
had baked some cookies for him - the closest thing to junk food he ever found at
home. He gobbled the cookies down one by one, pausing only for intermittant
gulps of milk.
"I've got to go to the bank and run some errands, honey." His Mom said in her
sweet motherly voice.
Even though he was embarrassed of his Mom's eccentricity and sometimes even
her race, Mikey loved his mother dearly and he felt closer to no one else. He
had only a couple of vague memories of his father. He was killed by a
policemen when Mikey was a small child. His mother believed the policemen had
killed her husband out of mistaken identity, brutality, or racism. Regardless
of the reason, to cover up their crime the policemen had planted a gun and a
large bag of cocaine on her husband. He was a strong man and a good husband,
and with justice never having been served nearly ten years later it still tore
her up inside.
"Okay." Mikey replied, hiding his genuine happiness that she was going out. He
would have a chance to take care of his horniness at last. Still sitting at the
kitchen table, his erection started to swell again, and he pulled his teeshirt
down to be sure his Mom couldn't see the bulge. He waited and watched as she got
her purse and keys together and finally went out the door with the final words,
"I'll be back in a little bit."
As soon as the door closed behind her, Mikey got up and walked to the bathroom.
He retrieved a handful of tissues and proceeded upstairs to his room. He was
quite paranoid of being caught, and on his way by locked the front door to slow
his Mom down if she came home sooner than expected. As he entered his room, he
closed the door firmly behind him, pulled all the shades in his room, and got
naked. There was something energetic and erotic about just his own nakedness,
and especially so with sexual thoughts about Julie racing through his head at a
phenomenal rate. He layed down on his bed, his erection unbelievably complete.
The skin on his penis was so taught that the slightest touch by his own hand
sent a shiver through him. He couldn't believe how charged up he was. It seemed
his erection was bigger and harder than it ever had been before.
As thoughts of Julie naked, smiling, running her hands across his bare chest
filled his mind, he began to slowly stroke. Mikey forced his imagination to
backstep the encounter with her. He liked to imagine the seduction, the kissing,
the removal of clothing, the sucking of nipples, eating her out, her giving him
head, and not until he was ready to blow did he reach the ultimate fantasy of
sinking his dick into her. One by one he proceeded through vivid mental images
of the encounter, stroking himself slowly, forcing himself to slow or stop when
he felt close to the edge.
Although Mikey had only been masturbating for about a year, he had mastered the
technique of bringing himself to mind-blowing ectasy. Whenever he masturbated he
tried to make it the best he could. He had realized the sacred rule of
masturbation. There is no point in rubbing yourself raw for a mediocre reward;
If you're going to do it, do it right.
His Mom was a deeply spiritual person and it was that spirituality that gave her
a philosphical strength that made her a perfectionist in many respects. Mikey's
upbringing was both solid and chaotic. His Mom was truly a role model, and
internally Mikey was strong like her. But when it came to dealing with the
external world, socially, Mikey faultered in embarrassment or fear.
Mikey's member was oozing precum at a prestigeous rate. Meanwhile, Julie had
just planted her first kiss upon the head of his penis. He had a crystal clear
vision of her wrapping her lips around just the head of his penis as she looked
into his eyes. He removed his hand from his penis momentarily as this image was
just too much to hold out any longer. It was too late. He began sliding his open
fist up and down the length of his penis faster than ever as he imagined
plunging into her from behind. Julie on all fours; Perky breasts shooting down
toward the bed that they were on; Her cries piercing the air as she screamed his
name in passion. As he began to spu, the first blast of cum landed on his
stomache. Images began to race through his head. The second, much more powerful
blast landing in a line running across his left nipple. His thoughts raced from
Julie to a thousand other sexual desires. Another, spuing across the center of
his chest and landing at the base of his neck. Images of girls and women from
every aspect of his life. He saw his cum splashing on the face of his best
friend's older sister. A fourth shot of cum hit the underside of his chin. He
saw Mrs. Andersen, his biology teacher, bare chested; his cum dripping from her
mouth; she rubbed it into her tits. And he spued and spued and spued and it
splashed across his chest. He saw Amy Christians sliding her pink and wet and
smooth and naked pussy down the length of his dick; she still holding her
cheerleading pom-poms. A jet of his own cum hit him in the face. He saw his Mom;
he saw her face; he saw her smooth wet lips accentuate her mouth; she wore her
favorite headband - yellow and black and distinctly African; she wore her
favorite dress - red and black and yellow and wrapped loosely but sclupted to
her chest; her breasts, large, perfectly rounded; he saw a hint of cleavage; and
he slid his dick between her tits.
Mikey's penis fell limp and lifeless and his hand fell away beside it. Even as
the orgasm still tingled through his body, he felt guilty for what he'd done.
His mother? Where had that come from? He'd never had a sexual thought about her
in his life. Yet as if he had dedidicated some sexual memorial to her, his last
masturbatory image had been of her. The guilt grabbed his hand and reached the
tissues and tried to wipe him clean of what he'd done. Cum had dripped off his
chest, his neck, his face and now his bed was nothing for his Mom to make. He
bundled up the bedspread put it in his closet, grabbed a towel, and got into
the shower.
As the hot water began to rinse him clean, he relaxed a little. "No big deal.
A freak thought entered my mind in the throes of passion." Mikey washed
himself thoroughly head to toe, and the more he washed the better he felt. He
shut off the water, dried himself, wrapped a towel around himself and headed
for his room.
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