Black Sausage Pie by UK Snowy


------------------------------------------------------------------------

Black Sausage Pie


Yet another English story, no doubt exasperating my US friends. I make no
apologies for writing them, its the world I know and whilst we might share a
resemblance of language, many customs and habits are quite different from
yours. For instance in this story, you'll note our paper boys actually
deliver the papers to your door, instead of throwing them across the porch,
or stuffing them in a tube at the end of the drive. Read on... but you might
find other little gems to puzzle and amaze you...

As I walked past the front door on my way to the bathroom, looking forward
to my first bath in my own, my very own, new ground floor apartment after a
weeks travelling on business, the evening newspaper shot through the
letterbox, startling me as it landed with a thud on the carpet.

"Shit!" came the expletive, just audible over the sound of my TV and the
howling gale outside. There was no one else in my pad, the TV showed a
cookery programme so the sound must have come from outside. I opened the
door, not being afraid although it was dark. I'm nearly six feet tall and I
work out every day at my company gym. Stooping in my porch, looking
extremely bedraggled and hassled was the paper delivery lad.

"Hi! Was it you I heard swear?" He looked up at me from his stooped
position, arms full of soggy newspapers and trying to balance a cycle.

"Sorry. didn't mean to. It's just that my bag split and..." The wind blew a
burst of rain onto me and I covered up, it was freezing cold and I wore a
dressing gown and very little else. December in England, Christmas a few
days away and the sudden snowfall we had been surprised by in the South had
thawed and replaced with wet and windy weather, just in time for the festive
season.

"Hey! Don't worry. I'm used to swearing, it just surprised me that's all," I
grinned down at him pleasantly. He shrugged and the glimmer of a sheepish
grin curled his big, pink, rubbery lips. I grabbed a long wool coat off the
hanger, threw it round me and stepped outside, carefully extracting the door
key.

"Looks like you need help sonny," I suggested.

"No no it's OK. These are spares, it's my idea just in case papers get
damaged, I bring a few out, you're the last on my round." he told me as I
wrestled the cycle from his grasp.

"Well that's very thoughtful and organised I must say, now let me help.
Stick your bike there," I told him, shoving it against a wall. "Jeez! its
cold out here...and wet. You're soaked through."

I was getting that way too. It was blowing a real hoolie. He muttered
something and gathered up the newspapers, trying to hold them together, but
failing in the strong wind.

"You know, some lads would have just left them. I'm glad to see you didn't,"
I ventured, gathering a few stray supplements for him. Then I remembered.
"You Syd?" I asked.

He nodded, standing up and I noticed how slight and short he was. He looked
about fourteen maybe fifteen.

"Oh I got your Christmas card, but been away on business for a few days. Was
going to pop your tip down to the shop," I grinned. "You can save me a trip,
want it now?" It was common practice for the paper boys to slot a card into
the customers papers, just before Christmas. They deserve something and I
always paid them handsomely. I was loaded and they provided a service. The
lad shrugged and then nodded.

"Right come in, bring those in and we'll dump them properly," I gestured at
the papers as I keyed the door. We got into the hall and I bundled the lot
up and slopped through to the kitchen utility in my slippers. My feet were
freezing. When I returned, Syd was shivering so much he was almost a blur.
Water dripped from him, on my expensive carpet, but it could stand rain and
I saw that his worn Nikes had the top ripped on one foot. His tight crinkled
hair was a mass of sparkling rain drops.

"Why don't you wear a hat Syd?" I asked ushering him through to the kitchen.
I sniffed the fresh paint and surfaces as I always do when I relish the
newness of the place. Syd's ripped trainer squelched with each step. He
shrugged, his main gesture obviously.

"Haven't got one."

"Yeah but there's a hood in here," I argued, grabbing his anorak collar. He
shrugged again.

"Look take it off and your trainers and warm through eh? I'll get you a
coffee or something..tea perhaps and you'll get a specially big tip I
promise. I appreciate what you lads do for us singles in this world. Go on,
I won't bite." Syd pondered and studied me and I saw his gaze slip to my
bare legs. The gown came just above my knees. I waited patiently and as his
eyes returned up to my face, instinctively, I pulled the dressing gown, a
now scruffy, well worn towelling version from the Ritz in Paris, round my
chest.

"Coffee then?" I asked brightly as he slid his wet anorak off. I grabbed it
and hung it over a stool back, then aimed and switched on a fan heater
towards it. He nodded and grinned and then bashed his hands against his
jeans, spraying water over the tiled floor. They were sodden wet too. He
stood near the breakfast bar. I poured him a black coffee from the filter
and shoved the cream and sugar at him. He took both and held the mug in his
hands warming them. I saw the delicacy of his long fingers, black tendrils
with almost gaudy pink contrasting beneath. They didn't match the brutal
features of his pugnacious black face.

"Look. I was just going to have a bath and chill out with a pizza. Its been
a long week, so while I'm doing that, why don't you warm through down here.
Take your tee shirt off and your jeans if you want and I'll bang this heater
up real fast and you can sit over it for half an hour. On it if you want," I
giggled. Quite why I had taken this waif under my roof in such magnanimous
fashion I don't know. Was it the Christmas spirit creeping in? Up to now I
had not been the slightest Chrissmassy. My partner had fucked off two months
ago for someone else and it had shook me to the core and I was still
mystified as was everyone who knew him.

"Gotta get back," he slurped, the hot coffee burning his lips and he wiped
them with the back of his hand.

"OK," I answered. "Up to you, dinner ready is it?" That reminded me and I
turned to my fridge and bent to take a frozen pizza out. It slipped and I
said, "Oh shit..." I glanced up at the lad who was staring at my legs which
had splayed. I knew I wasn't flashing anything but I pulled the gown round
me as I gathered up the box and placed it beside him. His coal bright eyes
were burning into mine and I turned away. His pink tongue slowly coursed
over the mass of bottom lips that sort of hung vacantly loose for most of
the time. It was a gesture, an expression I could have expected from someone
maybe twice his age and I ignored it.

"My favourite Quattro Stagione, four seasons," I said.

"I know, it's mine too," he answered.

"Have some, part of your Christmas tip. I'll micro it, won't take long," I
suggested. Syd nodded and perched on a stool. "Better still, I'll stick it
in the oven to heat up, you watch it and I'll be along after my bath." He
shrugged again and watched me load the oven, drinking coffee in little
gulps. I left him and went to the bathroom. Why did I trust him in the
place? Early teens, no cash, poor gear, monosyllabic, black as the night. I
threw the gown off and turned the taps. The water gushed noisily, reminding
me I needed a piss. It was a relief as my splashes echoed the taps. I heard
a squeal, a loud squeal and dashed to the kitchen. Syd was flapping at his
jeans and I smelt singeing.

"Shit! my jeans, they're burning," he cried. I grabbed them and saw they had
a slight mark. It was nothing considering the rough state of the garment
already. His tee shirt flapped round his boxers as I pacified him.

"Suppose you had them too near," I suggested. He nodded but didn't register
at my face. He was staring, goggle eyed at me. I should have held his jeans
in front of me but didn't and he got full views of my bursting cream silk
38E cup brassiere and matching thong. Our eyes did meet, then the water
gushing, seemed to click in my mind and I thrust the jeans at him and shot
out to the bathroom. There was no risk of flooding, things had happened too
quickly. I turned the taps off and felt a presence. Whirling, I spotted his
face peeking at me round the door of the kitchen, along the hall and into
the bathroom. He disappeared, guiltily. I marched along the hall to close
the kitchen door, the bathroom door was off its hinges due to some warping
timber in the new pad. My feet thudded on the carpet in my angry state. I
glanced with venom into the kitchen and saw Syd cowering against the
worktop.

"How old are you Syd?" I challenged.

"Thirteen," he whimpered. "Well you're still old enough to know you don't
peep on girls, especially those that's being kind to you eh?" Syd shrugged,
but looked suitably chastened, his eyes roving over me and again I realised
I was half naked. But then things changed. I noticed changes in him. Jutting
his shorts out was the clear unmistakable emerging bulge of his cock. I
licked my lips absently and felt flushed. Being very pale, I also blush very
easily and maybe the kid spotted this, because the bulge jutted even more. I
saw it move. BLACK COCK shrieked at me and I remembered my one and only fuck
on one. The holiday in Jamaica that I won for top sales figures two years
ago.

"Thirteen eh?" I simpered. Shit! He was illegal, but he twitched it again.
My knees nearly buckled and my cunt started to juice as my mind saw Leroy in
Kingston and that ten inch salami he'd rammed into me every day and night
for fourteen of the fifteen days. I was so tender, I had difficulty sitting
on the plane coming home, the flight being particularly sticky because he'd
screwed me in the toilets at the airport with the help of his pal Bobby, who
was a cleaner. I'd run for the plane, without time to clean up and for hours
his cum had seeped out of me. I must have stunk the 747 out, but didn't
care. At 24 years old and racy with it, I could charm any buyer to purchase
our software and on 38K plus BMW and Health Insurance, shares etc I was
successful. But not in the love game. Colin had fucked off with another guy,
think about it, my man of two years was gay and he could shaft me like Leroy
could, although not with the same sized dong. I'd met him soon after Jamaica
and it was a blessing to someone on a sexual high and he fitted in
beautifully - both holes and shot gallons of his Irish whiskey flavoured
jism down my throat. Syd twitched his juvenile dick again and I walked
towards him, thinking how Colin McMurdy would be probably arseholing his
shit hole of a man at this moment.

"And what do we have here Syd?" I asked softly, staring at his crotch. He
whimpered and tried to cross his legs. The last thing he should have done.
His knob found the slit of his boxer shorts and burst out, pink wet and
looking very tasty. I knelt quickly and glanced up at his terrified face.

"You got a girl?" He shook his head vigorously. "Ever had a girl..you know
with this?" I continued, cupping my hand round the solid shaft supporting
his knob.

"Noooo..."he stammered, his voice wavering pitches.

"You know what to do with it?" I queried, putting my lips about half an inch
away from it and pushing the white cotton material back against his belly.
His head nodded and he said.

"I think so."

"Want to learn, if you only think so. You've got a beautiful cock Syd...for
thirteen, any man would be proud of this." The lad mewed and twitched it,
probably subconsciously as I admired its solidity. It wasn't huge, more
chunky than long and he had been cut too although he wasn't too fragrant. I
like uncut dicks best, more flesh to play with. I insinuated my hands inside
his shorts and grabbed his balls. They were small, but I stroked them.

"Like that... and that?" I asked as I rubbed his dick. His terrified eyes
nodded and I again questioned my sanity and the risks of playing with fire.

"More?" I whispered.

"Mmmm!" he simpered. I unhooked my bra and let my great tits fall out. He
spluttered as they swayed and then I gathered them and rubbed them round his
horizontal cock. The whiteness of my boobies against the black of his shaft
was startling. I kept focussed on his face and saw the gradual relaxation of
the pampered male. His eyes half closed, his tongue hung out and I could
smell my snatch. God! It was strong, but I'd been negotiating hard all day,
had a long drive home and then done the paperwork before deciding to relax
and bathe. Syd's shorts slid down and he stepped neatly out of them, his
bright yellow socks came off too. I don't fuck guys in their socks. I told
him to take his shirt off and he obeyed as I worked on his cock, drooling at
the solidity and thickness.

As I said, he wasn't hugely long, say four inches, but it had a considerable
girth and when it matured would be quite a weapon for all those foxy chicks
he would get. He had a cute little patch of sparse tight curly pubes and I
clawed my nails through them. His body was hard, slim and somewhat delicate
and shone in the glow of my under cabinet lighting.

"You gonna suck me?" he squeaked audaciously. I glanced up at his
interruption, just as I was about to mouth onto his knob.

"Yeah, got a problem? Don't want me to?"

"It might smell, that's all," he whimpered.

"It smells great Syd, Don't you worry," I smiled and with that I swallowed
him whole. I felt his body shudder as I plated him, licking round the smooth
pink dome, under his very cheesy ridge, then up into the slit. My hands went
to his butt and pulled him on to me, my head rocking now. I came up for air
and spoke.

"You've got a lovely dick Syd. Its one of the best I've ever seen..." I was
going to say on a thirteen year old, but in one pulse and twitch, his knob
suddenly fountained his cum all over my face. His phlegm gurgled, his body
writhed and his legs buckled as his tight gonads gave up what I believe was
his first blow job induced orgasm. At least the first decent blow job, he'd
had. I mewed and managed to get my mouth round his spurting and swallow as
much as I could of his salty sperm until suddenly he stilled and sobbed.

I persuaded the last drop out of him, then stood and pulled his wet face
into my mountainous tits. I wrapped them round his woolly head and I felt
his arms snake round my butt. A good sign, he was comforted. After a while
of rocking and cooing, my legs were aching and I prised him away from me.
His face stared up with wonder until he smiled broadly and spoke. "That was
cool, thanks." I hugged him again and pressed my half inch thick nipple into
his mouth. He suckled like a hungry baby as I felt between us and found his
flaccidity. He murmured as I clutched it.

"Come on Syd, let's lie down," I suggested. He followed my lead and I made
sure my ass wiggled all the way to the bedroom. My thong would have hidden
fuck all of my voluptuous butt and its a sight that gets most of my lovers
going. I sat on the bed and patted the spread for him to sit next to me. His
dick waggled deliciously as he moved and joined me.

"Seen a cunt yet?" I asked blatantly. He shook his head and his eyes widened
as I drew off my thong. It took some extracting from my crack and the wave
of fanny odour seeped into the atmosphere.

"Phew! You said you might be smelly. I'm the same Syd," I chuckled and he
grinned, but stared at my pubes. They were free growing but light and fluffy
and fair like my hair. I hardly ever trimmed them, didn't need to.

"Seen pubes before...no?" I suggested and he told me no. I lay back and
spread my legs, half wondering whether I would frighten him off with my
brazen sexuality.

"Well take a look at a cunt with pubes Syd. Feel free to touch. Aren't you
the lucky one to find a sex mistress? Better than your French mistress at
school I'll bet." My boobs slid sideways, nipples as big as Christmas tree
bulbs, they certainly felt hot, as I raised on my elbows to see what he
would do. He leaned over my right thigh and peered between my legs. Then he
placed his hand on my knee and glanced at me. I nodded, my eyebrows raised
encouragingly. I raised my left leg and put my foot on the bed, letting my
knee drop sideways. That opened the gates for him a bit more and he gasped
as he saw my jewel. The jewel in my crown is the single diamond stud in my
labia. It's only visible when my pussy is opened. Its tiny, smooth and
expensive and doesn't hurt the guys or me when we fuck. I flushed
automatically as always when a guy looks at my cunt and I felt and Syd would
surely have seen cunt juices seeping out.

"Is that real? he asked, his hand creeping up my thigh.

"Yep! One hundred percent diamond. Don't think about pinching it eh? It'll
hurt," I chuckled, keeping the atmosphere light and jokey with the
inexperienced youth. He grinned widely and I felt his fingers trace over my
fanny. I shuddered as his black artists quality digits started to roam,
round my mound, into my pubes, over the hood of my clitty and down into the
tight vee at the bottom of my gash. I could smell my personal odours so
strongly now, so he must have done, but they were tinged with something else
and it wasn't his dick, which I'd virtually washed. Suddenly it dawned on
me. "The fucking pizza in the oven," I screeched and knocking him sideways,
I slithered off the bed and galloped, tits lolloping about dangerously near
to door frames and things, to the kitchen. Luckily the smoke alarm hadn't
kicked in and I rescued it - sort of. Burnt edges, that's all. I heard Syd
shuffle into the kitchen as I surveyed the damage.

"I don't do French at school, but I do like cooking. I'm going to be a
chef," he added proudly. It was a weird statement I thought at the time, but
appropriate I suppose in the context of things. There we were, the oddest of
odd couples, a twenty-four year old white girl and a thirteen year old black
boy, both naked in a very up market kitchen, gazing at a burnt pizza. Well I
was, Syd was gazing, no gawking at me and his beautiful dong was up again.
Suddenly I had a sausage to gaze at and slid the pizza into the bin. It was
dispensable, but that four inch tool waggling at me wasn't.

"Come here and fuck me Syd," I ordered. I turned round, spread my legs very
wide to lower the point of entry and bent over a stool, my butt high. I
arched my back as I felt his hands tentatively rub my sopping twat. Then I
felt the tip of his knob enter my cunny lips. He stopped, probably unsure,
so I urged him on.

"Push it in Syd, all the way. You'll just love it....."

"I can see your arsehole too," he giggled. It seemed hilarious to him.

"Yeah! ain't it funny, we've all got one, even girls. Now fuck me OK," I
ordered sharply. He took orders well. He'll make a good chef, but as a
student in my college, he made that black sausage partly fill the sweetest
pie he will have for some time yet. He thrust and slapped against me and I
shunted my buttocks back at him as he fucked me, learning fast. He took
longer, but it was only maybe half a minute before Syd started to splutter.
I felt him start to pull out and yelled at him.

"Keep it in there Syd. Don't you pull it out. Put all of your stuff in me."
He whined and replied, but did keep fucking.

"BBbbbut...it'll make..bbbaaaa...aaaaarghhhh!" No more words were formed,
just a happy sort of gasping and grunting as I felt the seeds of his youth
splatter my love box. He stopped and fell against me and we breathed almost
in unison for a while. My legs ached again and I hinted that I needed to
move. Syd stepped back, his cock slopped out and I felt the trail of cum
running down my inner thighs.

"But it'll make babies won't it?" he asked timidly.

"Hey no. That's OK. I'm big enough to be on the pill. Don't worry, no little
black kids going to be running round here Syd," I told him, grinning as I
stepped near to him and thrust his head into my heaving tits. It comforted
him again and I hugged him and he hugged me, which was nice. The door bell
rang out and we jumped. I wasn't expecting anyone. I Don't get casual
callers, so I was wary. I went to the front door and peered through the spy
hole. There was a small fat black girl, soaking wet and jiggling on the spot
as if she was cold. I got my gown from the bedroom and told Syd to get
dressed and challenged the girl through the door.

"I'm looking for my brother Syd. His bike is here. Do you know where he is?"
she replied. My boy lover heard as he dragged his trainers on.

"It'll be OK, you can open the door," he told me confidently. I did and the
even younger black kid looked at us both without any suspicion. Syd
explained he was drying his clothes and getting his tip, which I found in my
handbag for him, a handsome amount too. She was Charmaine, his ten year old
sister and one of four sisters and two brothers making up the rest of his
family. I found this out later, well the next night actually, when Syd
delivered my paper personally with a pleasant aura of arrogance and charm,
which I liked. He gifted me a sausage too.

END


  
index