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 Black and White After School Friends
   This is a work of erotic fiction.  It is not to be read by minors.  It
may include sexual acts between teenagers.  If you are offended by this
kind of erotic fantasy, or if you may be unduly influenced by it, please
search for something else to read for your personal erotic fictional
entertainment.  All publishing and reproduction rights are reserved by the
author of this story.
   *************************************
   It's always great when you enjoy your job.  There was a store manager
who had a room full of rowdy black teenage employees he needed to keep
under control.  The teenagers had to work for him in order to fulfill their
requirements for probation.  He warned them if they acted up he would have
their asses out on the street in no time.  There were always a few
knuckle-heads who somehow didn't seem to get the memo.
   Two of the most rambunctious black teenagers under his charge were
horsing around in his store, instead of washing the windows and scrubbing
the floor the way they were supposed to.  The manager didn't know what set
the boys off, but suddenly the lean brown-skinned black boy started running
away from a balkier mocha-colored boy.
   The brown skinned boy slammed into an antique vase, shattering it into a
thousand pieces.  The manager was not pleased.  The boys trembled and
pointed to each other, "Dat wuz hiz fault."
   The manager had no patience to sort out who was more to blame.  Both
colored boys were guilty and they both would have to pay.  Of course he
knew these black boys didn't have any money - that was always the story,
but this did not deter the clever man.  He knew that there was always
something he could get out of them; it was just a question of what it
should be.
   The manager motioned for the boys to come into his office.  The boys
pulled on their trousers that were sagging below their waist, and slowly
followed him into his office wondering what was in store for them.  He shut
and locked the door.
   The boys sank down on the couch in front of the manager's desk and tried
not to make eye contact with him, as ghetto boys are prone to do.
   Nonetheless, the manager's gaze bore down on them, "You boys know how
much that antique costs?"
   "We aint got no money," both boys chimed.
   "Of course you don't.  You never have money, except when you want
something.  But I know one thing you do have, and I'm going to accept it as
payment for the damaged property."
   The boys looked at each other with puzzled expressions.
   "What we got dat dis man want from us?" they murmured.
   Of course, the manager was no dummy.  He overheard their murmuring. 
"I'll tell you what you've got.  Since you don't have any cash, and that
vase costs a lot of money, and you don't want to get fired and go back to
corrections - then the only way you can make this right is..."
   The boys held their breath.
   "You're going to have to entertain me."
   The boys breathed a sigh of relief.  Entertain him?  Is that all this
white man wants?  They would gladly entertain him.  Both boys thought of
themselves as natural entertainers anyway.
   Did he want them to sing?  Did he want to hear them freestyle?  Did he
want to hear them beat box or watch them shoot hoops?  They would gladly
entertain him.
   But the manager didn't want any of that.  He looked them in the eyes and
said gravely, "I want you boys to take off your clothes."
   The boys gulped and looked at each other wide-eyed.  The dark skinned
boy spoke up, "Take our clothes off?  B-b-but I can't take my clothes off.
I aint gay, dawg.  I got a girlfriend an' shit."
   The man cut in, "I don't care what you think you are, if you don't want
me to fire you - if you don't want to wind up back in corrections, you're
going to take your clothes off and you're going to entertain me - now."
   The boys eyed each other sheepishly.  Then the brown-skinned boy spoke
up, "Does I have to do this in front of him," he said, motioning his head
toward his darker-skinned buddy.
   "Yeah, you've got to do it in front of him.  He's got to do it in front
of you.  You're both going to get to know each other better than you ever
imagined."
   The boys looked embarrassed.  Nobody moved.
   "Do it now, boys - I don't have all day."
   Slowly, both boys rose from the couch and stripped off their clothing,
exposing their smooth swarthy bodies.
   The manager unzipped, behind his desk and played with himself as he eyed
the boys' tight nipples, their hairless chests, and the gentle whiffs of
hair on their calves.
   Finally, they stripped off their boxer shorts, exposing dark bushes of
adolescent pubic hair, and two long teenage cocks swinging between their
legs.
   "Yessss", the manager hissed, as he stroked himself, "Grab each other's
cocks and play with them."
   The boys looked at each other awkwardly, hesitating to follow the man's
orders.
   "I said grab each other's cocks and make each other hard."
   Timidly, each black boy reached over and grabbed the other boy's cock.
They slowly stroked each other's teen fuck meat.  It didn't take long for
them to get hard.  Each boy had the other's firm, erect penis jutting from
his fist.
   "Yeah, that's what I like to see," said the manager.  "Look how horny
you boys are - playing with each other like you're two faggots."
   The boys looked embarrassed but kept stroking each other while the
manager watched.  The boys looked especially distressed at the fact that
each of them was sported a raging teenage hard-on, and it was another boy
who was causing it.
   "Stroke those nigger cocks for me," the manager encouraged them.
   The boys stroked each other, forced to put on a show.
   "I want to see you hold each other in your arms," the manager directed
them.  "Face each other and hold each other tight while your nigger cocks
are grinding against each other's body."
   The boys did as they were told.  The naked black boys embraced and
pushed their throbbing teenage cocks against each other.  Their brown
bodies were smooth and lean.
   They shamefully did a slow masculine grinding dance for the man.  Young
boyish, muscular arms and chests embraced one another.
   The rich, caramel brown boy was enfolded into the deep mocha chocolate
body of the other.  Their youthful manly legs rubbed up against each other,
giving each other pleasure; filling each boy with passion.
   There was nothing like firm, hard, muscular adolescent bodies rubbing
naked against each other, to make a boy fully aroused in a way that could
not be replicated by the squishy softness of a teenage girl's body.
   The boys' breath grew shorter as they felt passions and sensations they
had never experienced before.  They felt their thick, hard teenage nigger
cocks rubbing against each other's smooth brown thighs.
   The manager goaded them, "Yeah, keep it up.  Keep grinding on your
homeboy for me.  Imagine what it must be like to be buddy's girlfriend and
to surrender yourself to his strength."
   Teenage black boys' arms wrapped around each other's naked body.  Both
boys felt involuntary passions arise within them, burning for each other,
something they had never felt before.
   The darker boy started licking the other boy's shoulder blade; tasting
the boy's sweet caramel skin.
   The lighter-skinned boy tossed his head back as he felt his body being
ravished by the huskier dark boy's football-playing strength, enfolding
him, holding him tight, pumping his stiff, mocha man-meat between the
lighter boy's thighs.
   The manager encouraged this, "Yeah, fuck your buddy.  Make each other
faggots.  Fuck your buddy like a bitch in the ghetto.  Take his manhood
from him."
   The two black boys continued their naked muscular erotic "dance" as they
rhythmically ground their sweaty dark bodies into each other in slow
fucking motions.
   The manger shifted his swivel chair to catch the view from another
angle. He positioned himself behind the caramel boy so he could see the
lighter-skinned boy's smooth, firm, sweaty black ass as he pumped his way
in and out, grinding against the darker boy's body.
   "Yeah, fuck that nigger.  Fuck him good."
   The boys filled the man's office with teenage sex smells.  The sweaty
smell of the nigger boys' arm pits and pubes aroused the manger almost to
the point of orgasm.  He stroked his cock frantically as he watched the
show that the boys were putting on for him.
   The black boys held each other tight; hearts pounding wildly as they
embraced and their hard teenage cocks pressed against each other.
   The boys were feeling new sensations.  The only hint of these feelings
that they had before was occasionally on the basketball court, when they
fell into each other's arms to steady their bodies after they collided
trying to recover the ball from an attempted lay-up.  Each time it crossed
their minds that something felt good about being embraced by another
masculine teenager, but they quickly suppressed these feelings because they
"knew" that it was "gay."
   Now here they were, having the chance to fully enjoy their budding
manhood - being "forced" to do it, in fact.
   Each felt the other boy's rock hard black cock rub against his body,
humping on him like he was a young ghetto whore.  Each used his hard,
teenage black cock to rub against the other when he "knew" he should be
pushing his cock inside a horny teenage black girl's pussy instead.
   The manager continued frantically stroking his cock as he watched the
display that he had choreographed.
   The black boys humped and sighed as they held each other in their arms.
   Suddenly both boys gasped and shuddered.
   They shot thick ropes of sticky white cum all over their swarthy bodies.
   Their bodies tensed as they continued to shoot jizz all over each other.
   They couldn't stop.
   Sweat mingled with cum until their abs and thighs were covered with
horny teenage spunk juices.
   Soon the manager let out a loud involuntary sigh and shot his load too.
   His spunk shot high above his desk and splattered all over his invoices.
   The room was filled with the sounds of male lust as spectator and
players relaxed into heavy breathing.
   The show was over.  The manager ordered both black boys to clean each
other off and get back to work.  He gave them moist paper towels, but
ordered each boy to clean up the other one - they couldn't just clean
themselves off.  There was still a little more fun the manager wanted to
squeeze out of the event.
   Each boy apologized sheepishly as he nervously wiped down the other
boy's body.  There were profuse exchanges of "No homo, no homo," as they
cleaned each other up and touched each other's genitalia.
   Once the boys were back on the job, the manager didn't have any more
trouble out of them.  Occasionally he'd steal a peek at the smooth, firm
contours outlining one of the boy's asses under his briefs when the boy's
pants slipped below his waistline.  But when the boy realized he was
staring at him, the boy blushed and quickly pulled up his trousers.
   It was too late for that.  The manger winked at the boy.
   *************************************
   "Next time you foul me like that you're going to have to pay for it,"
Thomas barked in pain and anger, holding his ribs where the black boy had
elbowed him during their one-on-one game of basketball.  "It wasn't a
foul," Rufus shot back at the white boy, "You're just a pussy who don't
know how to play the game like it's played in the streets."
   "Pussy?" Thomas glared at the boy, his face getting red, "I'll show you
who the `pussy' is.  Fuck this sissy game of basketball.  You think you're
so tough?  Let's see if you can wrestle."
   Rufus seemed stunned, for a moment, at the suggestion of switching
games. Then tilted his head sideways, smiling with confidence and casually
tossed the ball over his shoulder.
   "Oh hex yeah, white boy," Rufus said, his body language was pure
intimidation as he strode toward Thomas, who was still nearly doubled over,
grasping his ribs in pain, "ya wanna wrestle, ya little punk, we can sho
nuff wrestle."
   Before Thomas could say anything the black boy bolted for the boy's legs
in a tackle, sending Thomas tumbling to the ground, sprawled on his back.
   "This gonna be too easy," Rufus smirked as he pushed the white boy's
shoulders against the wooden gym floor.  "All white boys are soft," Rufus
thought to himself, "No way this white boy is gonna know how to wrestle."
   But Thomas surprised the boy.  He quickly recovered his senses and
flipped the black boy on his back.  Before Rufus realized what was
happening Thomas was on top of him, dominating him.  The full weight of his
body was pressing against the black boy, pinning him to the floor.
   Rufus struggled to get up, but he couldn't wiggle free.  The white boy
jeered in his face, making the whole thing worse.  This wasn't supposed to
happen, Rufus thought, all white boys are punks.
   As Thomas held the black boy down against the floor Rufus began to
notice something odd.  The white boy's cock seemed to be getting thicker
and thicker underneath his sweatpants.  The boy was enjoying his power over
Rufus.  The boy was enjoying dominating him.
   "Oh hell naw - you aint gonna treat me like yo bitch motherfucker,"
Rufus growled in protest, but no matter how hard he struggled he couldn't
break free.
   "Admit it, punk," Thomas chided, "You've been bested." He started
grinding his aroused groin against the subdued black boy's body, like all
conquerors do when they've subdued a rebellious tribe.  The victor can
always have his way with weaker boy's body.  It was no different here - on
this gym floor.
   Rufus struggled frantically to stop the white boy from using him like a
bitch, but it was futile.  He felt Thomas' big white cock growing harder
and harder as it pressed against his body.
   Thomas sneered, "You like that big white cock rubbing up against you,
boy?"
   Rufus felt himself weakening.  He felt himself surrendering as Thomas
lay on top of him, humping on him like some bitch.
   The wrestling match was over, although neither boy would officially
acknowledge it.  They had moved beyond wrestling.  This was now the victory
lap where Thomas was celebrating forcing the unruly black boy into
submission.
   "You want this big white cock inside of you, don't you boy?"
   Thomas had Rufus' arms pinned against the floor.  There was nothing this
black boy could do about it.
   Yeah, Rufus wanted it, but he could never admit it.  He wanted it so bad
he felt his own cock starting to get hard.
   He wrapped his arms around Thomas' powerful trunk, pretending to
struggle to get out from under him, but he knew the match was over.  There
was no longer any fight left inside of Rufus to resist this white boy who
was now lying on top of him - pressing down in his defeated black body,
humping him like a girl.
   Thomas' firm chest was pressing hard against Rufus.
   The black boy surrendered to the intimacy of having this white boy so
close to him like this.  He breathed in the musky odor of the white boy's
body.  Despite the sweat, it somehow smelled clean and purifying.
   Rufus allowed the white boy to enfold him in his arms and hump him like
a helpless slave.
   Rufus tried to resist the feelings that swept over him, but he wanted to
surrender, give into the white boy's power, and let Thomas have complete
mastery over him.
   Thomas' thick, hard manhood pressed against Rufus's dark body, rubbing
against the black boy's groin and his thighs, dominating and mocking him
like he was a cheap ghetto whore.
   "You like that cock, nigga?  You like that cock rubbing on top of you
like that?"
   Yeah, Rufus liked it.  He didn't understand why, but he knew he liked
it. Rufus almost wanted the white boy to fuck him for real.
   He felt himself surrendering to his tormentor.
   Rufus had met his master.  He instinctively turned his head to the side
and brushed his lips against the white boy's biceps and forearms, wanting
to kiss them, acknowledging the white boy's power.
   Thomas humped harder and harder on top of Rufus.  The black boy no
longer even pretended to resist.  He even pushed back, offering his dark
body to be used, like it should be.
   Now both boys were rubbing against each other with passionate abandon.
They forgot that they were "wrestling," forgot that they were "straight,"
all they knew was that they were enjoying this passionate embrace as their
aroused bodies rubbed against each other - master and slave - conqueror and
conquered.
   Rufus stared in the eyes of his tormentor with lust and longing. 
Thomas' eyes were half-closed with the ecstasy of indifference toward the
black body he would use.
   A few quick gasps and Thomas spontaneously ejaculated inside his sweat
pants.  Rufus felt the sticky moisture spreading against his thighs.
   A few more gasps and Rufus was also ejaculating.  His thick, creamy cum
juices filled his boxer shorts and ran down his brown thighs.
   The white boy held onto Rufus's body and humped him a few more times for
good measure, before letting him go.
   Rufus crawled to his knees, shaking his head as if coming out of a
trance.  His crotch was sticky, wet and uncomfortable.  A wave of shame and
embarrassment flashed across his face as Thomas looked down on him and
sneered.
   Rufus knew he'd been used like a cheap tramp.  He'd been had and
discarded like a cheap black ho.  Thomas had won this fight of both mind
and body.
   Rufus's mouth hung open, stupidly.  He looked at the boy who towered
over him.
   Rufus was disgusted with himself, and yet he knew he wanted more.
   **********************************
   "I love watching those thick black lips work my hard cock," Andy's
freckled face beamed down at Jerome, his chipped front tooth seemed to
punctuate the mischievous comment.  Jerome glared up at him, giving the
prankish white boy a look of warning.
   He couldn't get angry with him though, it was a typical "Andy" remark -
the boy always said whatever came to head, and what came to his head this
time was how arousing it was to watch this cocky, smart-mouthed black boy
on his knees sucking his cock.
   The hostile glare that Jerome shot him only encouraged Andy.  He beamed
at Jerome again, devilishly - brown freckles dancing across his face.  "You
know you like it," he added, as if trying to see just how far he could push
the black boy.
   Apparently he could push him much further than most people would have
expected.
   Andy tossed back his head, forcing the large rust-colored curly locks
covering his forehead to part so that he could get a better view of Jerome
working on his cock.  The black boy's face was buried in the white
teenager's pubes - the funky, musty smell of the curly red pubic hair that
adorned the white boy's cock filled Jerome's wide, flaring nostrils.
   Jerome was not in the habit of finding pleasure in subordinating himself
to another male - giving the male pleasure at Jerome's own expense.  Jerome
thought of himself as being a taker, not a giver.  He's the one who should
conquer "bitches", male or female, and have them "fiending" for his body,
but not this time.
   This time he had to admit, at least to himself - while he was down on
his knees with his face buried between a white boy's ruddy knees and thighs
- that the taste of a white boy's cock in his mouth was actually very
comforting.
   Andy was now pushing on the back of Jerome's head, thrusting his teenage
manhood in and out of the urban black youth's mouth, forcing the youth to
taste more and more of Andy.
   Although Andy had a punkish sense of humor, there was nothing punkish or
funny about the size of his cock.  It throbbed to its full thickness and
filled Jerome's mouth.
   Andy clutched the black boy's skull and skull-fucked him furiously -
getting full use out of those thick black lips he had commented on earlier.
Jerome slobbered all over himself as he serviced the horny, red-haired
white teenager.
   Jerome happened to gaze up at his mischievous tormentor.  Andy's head
was tossed back, his eyes rolled up into his head and he was biting his
lower lip.
   The pillowy softness of the black boy's lips worked wonders on the white
teenager's cock.  That's what friends are for.
   But this wasn't like Jerome.  Jerome was entirely into chasing "bitches"
and having them, as he often said, "Swing on my nuts," but this afternoon
he found himself completely at the service of this horny impish white boy.
He felt compelled to do whatever the white boy commanded him to do - so
long as it was "on the down-low"; out of sight of his "angry black bitches"
and his thuggish "homeboys".
   Jerome wanted to deny what Andy was saying, about his really wanting it,
but when he looked up at the coin-sized red nipples on the boy's smooth
heaving chest he knew that Andy, like other white boys Jerome spied on in
the locker room after gym class, had bodies that seemed pure and beautiful.
Jerome had to make them a part of him.
   The thought crossed Jerome's mind, much as he fought to suppress it,
that maybe if he swallowed a white boy's jism he could become pure and
beautiful too, like one of them.  And that's why he agreed to spend this
afternoon servicing Andy.
   It was a foolish thought, Jerome tried to tell himself, but it was a
thought he couldn't get rid of every time he sat close to them in the
locker room and they revealed their naked bodies, their smooth
ivory-colored chests and their firm statuesque arms and legs - and as he
gazed into their lush red lips and the cool pools of their blue eyes.
   The black boy stroked himself frantically as these thoughts and images
flowed through his mind while he serviced the cock of the white boy who
sat, looking every bit like a young prince on his throne, in front of him.
   What else was the mouth of a young black teenager good for?  This
question had been echoing in his mind for several months now.
   Jerome realized that there was no part of a white boy's body that would
be too nasty for him.  He recalled how a mean-spirited boy once managed to
get on top of him and sat on his face while they were wrestling in gym
class.  The boy made sure the gym teacher and the other students were
preoccupied and he took advantage of the opportunity to surreptitiously
lower his gym trunks and rub his raw, shit-stained butt hole all over
Jerome's black face.  He looked down and scowled at the black boy whose
face was under his ass, "This is all you are good for."
   It was horrible and insulting to Jerome but the black boy suffered the
torment and indignity of the act in uncharacteristic silence, stealing a
few sloppy wet licks of the white boy's ass, tasting the boy's butt juices
while simmering from the injustice of it all.
   In no time Jerome was sporting a raging hard-on that he tried to conceal
by folding it flat against his body using the elastic band of his gym
shorts to secure it in place.  He dramatically accused the white boy of
"racism" and stormed off to the locker room to wash up and cleanse himself
of the "indignation".
   Once he reached the locker room, however, he lay back on the hard wooden
bench and savored the smell of the white boy's ass on his face, and the
smell of all the other white teenagers whose sweaty discarded t-shirts and
underwear filled the musty room with their youthful masculine odor.
   He breathed in the smell of their sweaty arm pits and the unwashed
crotches of their jockey shorts.  He wished he could be free enough to walk
up to them and beg to let him lick the soles of their feet.
   Secretly, passionately, he jerked himself to orgasm - shooting ropes of
white cum all over his dark body.
   Now, here was - kneeling in front of this prankish red-haired white boy,
sucking his cock and licking the red pubes on the boy's balls, paying the
boy homage for being so godlike, towering over him.
   Andy stuffed Jerome's face with his thick white cock and began rocking
his hips violently in the black boy's mouth, holding the boy's head steady
with his hands.
   Jerome felt the slime of his slobber drooling down his chin as the white
boy worked his mouth with carefree abandon.  As far as Andy was concerned
this black boy's warm, moist mouth was to be used and discarded like tissue
paper.
   Andy gasped and his body tensed.  He held Jerome's head tight and
pressed his face on his cock, not giving the boy a chance to pull away.
   Jerome felt the pulsating sensations of the boy's cock in his mouth.
   He felt the white boy's semen pumping its way up the shaft in spurts.
   Then he tasted the explosion of thick, hot white cum juices in his
mouth.
   Andy gasped again and for the first time in his life Jerome felt as
though he was finally doing something useful.
   The white boy's cum tasted sweet and clean to Jerome, but the shameful
thought crossed his mind that all the young black girls who were hanging on
his crotch would be horrified if they could see him now, on his knees at
this punkish white boy's feet, his mouth filled with the white boy's semen
as it saturated his tongue and oozed down his throat, making the angelic
boy a part of him.
   But what did black girls know, anyway, about the rites of passage and
the intimate needs of "their" men?
   Still, Jerome was embarrassed as he felt the white boy's cum trickling
down the side of his swarthy face, marking the darker boy for ownership.
   Andy released the boy's head, allowing Jerome to breathe once more. 
Andy's impish grin returned as he looked down at the cum-stained mug of the
vanquished black boy.
   "For such a slick ladies man you sure know how to suck a good cock," the
white boy teased.
   Jerome shot Andy another hostile look before returning his gaze to the
boy's angelic thighs spread wide in front of him, and the white boy's
softening manhood that Jerome just finished servicing.  Jerome stared at
the boy's rosy cock which now dangled between his legs beneath the flaming
red plume of his pubic hair.
   Whatever guilt the black boy thought he should be feeling over
submitting to serve this horny white teenager the one thing he knew for
sure was that he wanted to do it all over again.
   *************************************
   It was not an unlikely place for two teenage boys to be after school -
in a dark alleyway between two tall buildings; but it was an unlikely sight
nonetheless.
   A scruffy white teen had his trousers and underwear pulled all the way
to his ankles while a dark-skinned black boy kneeled in front of him,
sucking on the white boy's throbbing cock.
   There were sighs and moans of erotic ecstasy, and choking and swallowing
sounds of an intrusion that was testing the limits of a boy's ability to
provide oral pleasure.
   The white kid stared down at the black boy and grabbed him by the back
of his head, "Work your fat lips on my cock, homes."
   The black kid shifted his stocky body, uncomfortably - enjoying the
sensation of being orally "raped".  Needing to be "forced" to submit to the
other boy's cock.  Needing to be "forced" to "just take it".
   The black boy's knees dug into the rocks, grime and broken glass on the
ground, in the shadows of the narrow alleyway.  He clung to the white lad's
hairy legs to keep from losing his balance while he sucked on the white
boy's cock.
   The white teen sneered at him, "You wanted to know what it feels like
being a bitch, you fucker - well now you know."
   If he didn't know before, the black kid was learning.  He tried to
mumble a reply but all he could do was gulp and gag on the white boy's hard
cock as it pummeled his mouth.  The white kid rocked his hips against the
black boy's smooth face, making him take his cock deeper and deeper while
he taunted him.
   "Wish I could take a picture of you, homes.  This would be a good shot
to post on the Internet.  Nobody in school would believe that a tough guy
like you secretly gets his jollies by being face-fucked like a little
bitch."
   The black boy just whimpered and resumed cock-sucking duties.  His
close-cropped nappy head bobbed up and down as he serviced the boy who
towered over and taunted him.
   He pushed the white kid's body against the red brick wall while he
allowed the boy to savagely rape his mouth.  The black boy reached up and
felt the white boy's solid abs and smooth trunk as he allowed the boy to
dominate him.
   The white boy was surprised by how much pleasure he got from the black
kid's lips.  They felt so good that all the white youth could do was moan
with approval, "Fuckin' nigga slave lips".
   Eventually he managed to look back down at the black boy and said,
almost to himself, "I guess it's like they say, the tougher the dude - the
deeper his bitch-side."
   That might explain it.
   There was no doubt about it, Tyrone was tough.  He was known for his
ability to intimidate all the other boys in the high school.  It didn't win
him any points with the ladies though; he often seemed awkward and
uncomfortable around them.  He lived in a man's world and didn't have the
patience to humor or patronize the emotions and obsessions of females.
   The white boy pushed Tyrone's head between his legs so that the black
boy's face was mashed under his nutt sack.  "Lick under my balls, nigga,
and lick my ass."
   Tyrone didn't have to be told twice.  He lapped up the shit juices from
the white boy's ass and thoroughly licked the underside of his testicles.
   "Yeah, nigga.  That's it.  Clean me up with your tongue."
   The white boy shifted his weight from the sheer pleasure of the
mouth-attack on his naked crotch.  The lad's sneakers made a crunching
sound on the gravel and crushed glass on the ground in the alley as his
feet rocked to the motion of the black boy's tongue-attack on the underside
of his body.
   The black boy was giving the white boy pleasure, but the white boy was
giving Tyrone freedom.  Tyrone felt free to lick the boy's testicles,
something that he could never do to another black boy; he would have to
endure too much teasing and he would find it all too shameful.
   Tyrone seized his opportunities and slurped on the white boy's balls and
ass in such frenzy that it seemed as though he was trying to outrace his
mind before it could catch up with him and he would fully realize what he
was doing; as if he was trying to outpace his shame and embarrassment from
being another dude's "bitch".
   So long as kept up the momentum and acted on raw passion he would be
alright.  If he slowed down long enough to think about it he probably
couldn't continue.  And he didn't want to stop.  He shoved his face further
between the white boy's thighs and bathed the boy's genitals with his mouth
- and the other boy enjoyed it.  He enjoyed having a closeted black
cum-slut at his service.
   He looked down at the bobbing black face between his legs, "You really
like it rough, don't cha nigga?"
   Of course he liked it rough.  Rough was the only way he knew how to get
it.  He liked rough sports, he liked rough talk and he liked rough sex,
full of force and passion.
   It was just as likely to give the black boy a hard-on if he was roughly
fucking a "bitch" as it was to be roughly fucked like he was one himself.
It was roughness and the humiliation that aroused him, whether he was the
giver or receiver, either way.
   The white boy spread his legs as far as his pants, bundled around his
ankles, would let him.  He leaned back against the brick wall and held the
black boy's face tightly.  He tossed his head back as he allowed his cock
to be assaulted by the black teenager's mouth.  He tightly closed his eyes
in sheer ecstasy.
   "Ohhhh, suck me nigga, suck me."
   The boy used Tyrone's face and his mouth as a living fuck toy.
   He humped wildly in Tyrone's mouth, releasing all of his teenage sexual
tensions and frustrations on the black boy's body.
   Tyrone submitted perfectly to the white boy's power.
   If he didn't have Tyrone to provide this service for him, he could have
just as easily been home fucking a lifeless plastic fleshlight; but this
was better - the use of the black boy's puffy lips, his warm, moist mouth
enveloping the white boy's hard throbbing cock, was just what was needed to
take the edge off of an otherwise stressful day for the white teenager.
   He felt the strength and the power of the black boy's muscles as Tyrone
bobbed up and down on his stiff white cock in the alley.
   He looked down at Tyrone, "Suck it for me.  Suck like you know you
really want it."
   Just then the white boy's whole body tensed and quaked.  He erupted in
the black boy's mouth with a forceful gush of hot teen lava.  It flowed
down the black boy's throat, causing him to choke, and then to swallow.  He
swallowed the white boy's cum.  He swallowed all of it to keep from
drowning.  He swallowed the teenager's cum as it kept to shooting into his
mouth in spurts - tasting the sweet nectar of the young white god who
towered over him.
   The white boy emptied his loins inside the black boy's mouth.  His heavy
breathing subsided and he loosened his grip on the boy's head.  This
allowed Tyrone to pull back a bit and come to his senses.
   He looked around and the world stopped spinning.  He could once again
get his bearings.  Tyrone realized the compromised position he was in, that
he was on his knees in an alley, with a half-naked white boy standing over
him; the boy's cock was swinging above Tyrone's head with strands of cum
dangling precariously in the gentle breeze.
   It would not look good if somebody saw them like this.  Tyrone quickly
got on his feet and wiped cum off his face with the back of his arm.
   The white boy yanked up his trousers.  Tyrone stared in the boy's face,
still somewhat mesmerized by the boy - his long flowing hair, his rosy
cheeks and lips.
   "You betta not tell nobody about this, son," he said menacingly to the
white boy.
   The white boy shot him a knowing smirk, "Don't worry, I won't tell
anybody about what a good cocksucker you are."
   Tyrone frowned, "Okay - you best not." He gave the white boy the once
over and ambled down the alley as though he had just intimidated the boy.
   The white boy cracked a smile, pounded his chest and shot Tyrone duces,
"Mah nigga.  You can do me any time."
   Tyrone gave him a sour look, "Fuck you, man, just shut the fuck on up or
I'll smack the shit outta you."
   He continued to amble down the alley with his manhood intact, hoping
nobody would be the wiser.
   
  
After School Friends