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The Skateboarder

This story is a work of erotic fiction. It is intended for entertainment purposes only. It may contain depictions of non-consensual sex (i.e. rape) and racial slurs which some readers may find offensive. This story is not intended to be read by minors or by anyone who might be unduly influenced by its contents, or where community standards prohibit this type of literature. If any of these prohibitions apply to you, please find something else to read for your entertainment. All publishing and reproduction rights are reserved by the author of this story.

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"Freeze. You're under arrest."

Those are the words that a black teenage boy least wants to hear. It was late at night in a desolate parking lot, with plenty of "no skateboarding signs" posted, but nobody around to enforce them.

Nobody, that is, until officer O'Malley arrived on the scene. Terrance thought that cops should have other problems to deal with at ten o'clock. Why should they be worried about a lone, black skateboarder in a vacant lot? 

But Officer O'Malley was not an ordinary cop.

And Terrance was not an ordinary skateboarder.

A few hours earlier Terrance and three of his white buddies raced across the parking lot, the roar of their skateboards, along with their shouts and screams, echoed off of the walls of the empty buildings in this abandoned shopping center.

The boys' lean, teenage bodies flew across the asphalt, spinning tricks, flipping sideways, nearly upside down, and riding on metal hand rails.

Terrance's nearly shoulder-length dreadlocks were tossed by the speed of his flight, giving him a somewhat "wild" appearance. 

He loved to impress girls with his skateboarding skills, and they loved to watch him skate. But he was a little disturbed by his secret strange and unspoken impulses when he was around his white buddies.

Frequently Terrance caught himself watching the other boys. He would slip into a daydream. He became lost by the trance induced by watching their long, flowing brown and blond hair as it was tossed by the breeze when they were performing tricks. He was mesmerized by their smooth white skin and the ruddy complexion they got when they were embarrassed or cold. He was enchanted by their rosy lips and the cool depths of their blue or brown eyes.

Even though Terrance was sure he was not gay, he found himself wanting to worship their white teenage manhood. He involuntarily got a hard-on whenever he was around the boys. He imagined them to be the epitome of cleanliness, rationality, order, all embodied in a package of boyish adventure, self-confidence and toughness. "These white boys," he thought, "are the rulers of the world."

He would slip into a daydream where he saw himself dropping to his knees, at their feet, letting them take turns shoving their stiff white cocks into his mouth, pumping feverishly between his thick black lips, and bringing themselves to orgasm - shooting "white boy" jism down Terrance's throat.

Every once in a while Terrance's buddies caught him staring. It gave them a creepy feeling. It looked like he was harboring malicious thoughts toward them. His facial expression, during such moments, seemed so ... predatory. 

But most of the time he seemed good-natured; just "one-of-the-guys."

They liked Terrance, but they didn't know what to make of those times when they caught him with that "strange" expression on his face. Never in their wildest dreams would they have guessed that this tough, agile black boy was completely submerged in fantasies about being their black slave and being forced to do everything he could to give them pleasure, sucking their white cocks making them cum down his throat, being elevated by swallowing the white boys' jism and having them become a part of him.

Yes, Terrance was not ordinary, but neither was O'Malley.

Officer O'Malley had a reputation on the force for having a curious interest in black people's genitalia. Male rookies who were partnered with O'Malley for training were amazed at his habit of stopping "suspicious" teenage black couples. O'Malley would make them get out of their car. He would begin by "frisking" the male for weapons or drugs. It wouldn't take O'Malley long to reach the teenager's crotch, obviously feeling up the boy's penis and testicles. 

O'Malley would grab a thick handful of nigger dick, look at the boy's girlfriend and wink, "He takin' care of you, sweetie?" The boy would look humiliated while the girl looked away. O'Malley would continue, "From the size of what I'm feelin' in my hand right now I'd say he must be takin' real good care of you."

O'Malley would keep groping the boy.

"No reason to be embarrassed, sweetie," the cop said, looking at the young girl, "At your age I bet all you can think about is getting your pussy stuffed with a nigger's big, black cock."

By this time the boy would be sporting a pretty good sized hard-on, against his wishes, and O'Malley would make a point of showing the boy's denim tent to the his girlfriend and the rookie. 

O'Malley would look at the rookie, "Whaddaya think? Does this boy got a jungle cock on him or what?" O'Malley continued fondling the boy's balls.

Back at the station O'Malley was known to theorize about "nigger penises."

"The way I see it, it's got something to do with evolution." This is how he started the conversations. By the time he was deeply into them he would have introduced a number of theories, including the laws of thermodynamics, relativity, and Freudian psychology. He often mangled his theories and meshed them haphazardly together.

"It goes back to slavery," he would tell the guys at that station. "I think they was bred to have big schlongs, if you know what I mean. It's natural selection. Survival of the fittest. It's all the stuff Darwin onto way back in the day. Niggers had to have big dicks so they could survive in the plantations and the African jungle."

As far as the guys at the station were concerned O'Malley just couldn't get enough of theorizing about nigger cocks. They put up with it though, because the man was a damn good policeman with lots of experience. His skills and experience more than made up for his perverted side-interests and lectures on Negro anatomy.

Still, out in the field, if you were a young black male who was unfortunate enough to be stopped by O'Malley you would find yourself shifting around on your feet while the white cop persisted in feeling you up in front of your girlfriend. It would be embarrassing because, by the end of it, O'Malley would have you sporting a killer boner, with no place to hide and relieve yourself.

Worse, you knew how helpless and powerless you looked in front of your girlfriend, having to allow a middle-aged white cop fondle your young black cock to his heart's content.

Finally, O'Malley would release the boy's cock and turn his attention to the kid's girlfriend. 

The hefty Irish cop would waddle over to the black boy's girlfriend, put a friendly had on her shoulder and ask the boy, "Okay if I frisk her too?  You don't mind, do you? Can't be too careful when you're looking for weapons and drugs, you know."

O'Malley had to ask the boy for permission because it was against regulations for a male cop to frisk a female suspect, except in an emergency - and the rookie cop was watching and learning. O'Malley wouldn't want to steer the rookie wrong.

But just to make sure he had the couple's assent O'Malley would spell out their options. "Look, you can either let me frisk the girl, and then we can all be on our merry way if she comes up clean, or I can haul her down to the station to be frisked by a female cop, which means I'd have to haul you along with us and have your car impounded - at which point we might just request a court order to search the car, and who knows what we might find? So it's all up to you. I wouldn't wanna do anything without your consent."

Invariably the couple would agree to allow the cop to frisk the girl. Being teenagers, they usually had at least marijuana in the car, maybe alcohol as well. If they could get off with just the humiliation of being frisked by the cop, rather than go to jail for drugs and underage drinking, why not just go ahead and let the cop get his jollies?

The boy would look down at the pavement, in shame and humiliation, as the cop groped the young girl's body, feeling her breasts, "Mmmmm, nice titties she's got there," and sticking his hands inside her slacks to feel her pussy.

"Ahhhh, nice and moist down there," the cop would wink at the boyfriend. "Seems like she's been takin' good care of you too, huh?"

O'Malley reached inside the girl's panties and massaged her clit. "Does your boyfriend like fucking this nice, wet piece of nigger pussy? Huh? Does he enjoy it?"

The cop would finger fuck the girl's pussy and occasionally catch the boy sneaking guilty lustful glances at the action. Even in his loose-fitting jeans, the sight of the cop molesting the boy's girlfriend would make the boy horny. Before long, he would be sporting a guilt-ridden hard-on. The black boy's face was covered with shame at the evidence that he was enjoying this act of public humiliation.

O'Malley continued to feel inside of the poor girl's wet pussy, his hot breath was heavy on the side of her face. "Does your boyfriend fuck you good and hard? Huh sweetie? Does he fuck you good and hard?"

So, this was O'Malley's reputation, and when he rolled up in his cruiser and saw Terrance skateboarding in the desolate parking lot he knew what he had to do. 

"Hold still while I frisk you," the cop said. He pushed Terrance, face-forward, toward the police cruiser. The boy's wrists were handcuffed behind his back. O'Malley went through the ritual of patting the boy down, emptying the kid's pockets, and taking an inordinate amount of time feeling the boy's crotch and his ass crack.

O'Malley grabbed the boy's cock, through his jeans, and rubbed the entire length of the boy's thickening dick. He reached inside the back of the boy's loose-fitting trousers and felt the boy's bulbous black ass. He reached further between the boy's legs and played with the lad's low-hanging balls.

When the cop was tired of standing up he told Terrance, "Okay, get in the back of the cruiser." He shoved the boy inside.

Terrance was alarmed. He had heard stories about black men being forced to get in police cars and being beaten up or even shot. Terrance realized there were no witnesses; the cop could say anything he wanted in this situation. He could literally get away with murder.

But the colored boy scooted to the far end of the back seat of the car, to try to get as far away from the white cop as possible. He spread his legs because he was too tall for the space he was in. Much to the boy's alarm, the cop scooted in beside him. 

"Okay, let's see what you've got under that shirt."

O'Malley grabbed the front of the boy's shirt and ripped it open, sending the buttons flying. There Terrance sat, bare-chested in the back of the man's squad car. O'Malley gasped at the chocolate smoothness of the boy's skin. 

"Oh, to be young; to be a teenager again," the cop gasped. He ran his hands over the boy's small, dark nipples. He whisked his open hand over Terrance's hairless black body. The boy's chest and his arms glistened with sweat. He skin seemed to glow - healthy and vibrant.

The cop looked down at Terrance's spread legs and grabbed the front of the boy's pants. "Now, let's take a look at that nigger crotch you got there."

A wave of anxiety swept over Terrance. Here he was, a black boy, helpless and handcuffed, uncomfortably seated in the back of a police car in a desolate parking lot, his shirt ripped open, his bare teenage chest fully exposed, his legs spread, and this middle-aged white police officer was about to rip his trousers open. He knew he was fully at the white cop's mercy.

Terrance wondered what the man had in mind, and whether or not it would be painful, some sort of torture.

O'Malley ripped the boy's trousers open. He looked at the boy's red and white candy cane striped boxer shorts and was amused. "Leave it up to a nigger to even wear colorful boxer shorts. You people dress like court jesters and clowns," he laughed.

O'Malley pulled the boy's trousers down below his ashy knees. Terrance's thighs looked strong and firm, with gentle whiffs of curly dark hair. O'Malley grabbed the lump in the boy's boxer shorts and felt the thickness of Terrance's cock. He gently squeezed the boy's cock a few times, getting the feel of it before fully exposing it. He kneaded Terrance's cock like a baker kneading a lump of fresh dough. The boy's cock started to stiffen.

The smell of the black boy's nearly naked, sweaty body filled the squad car, giving O'Malley a throbbing erection. He chided the boy, "Does your daddy know where you are right now? Does your mama know?"

The cop peeled down Terrance's boxer shorts, exposing the boy's thick, long nigger cock - a dark slab of jungle meat, ready to breed some of those slave bitches in the ghetto. The dark bush of pubic hair over the boy's cock filled the air with sexual aroma. 

O'Malley rested his hand under the black boy's cock and testicles, and lifted them. The contrast between the boy's brown skin and the white cop's hand was striking. O'Malley gently fondled the boy, aware that the kid's manhood was entirely in his hands - there was nothing the black teenager could do to stop him.

He looked at the boy's baby face in the dim light of the squad car, Terrance's thick dark lips barely open, his dread locks gently brushing the sides of his frightened dark face, whiffs of baby hair on his cheeks and above his lips, trying to become a mustache and sideburns but still too immature to do more than cast a faint shadow.

O'Malley couldn't resist the temptation any longer; he lowered his head and started sucking the boy's cock. 

Terrance tried to pull back, but he was trapped. He mumbled "no," but the white cop refused to listen. Terrance tried to resist letting this man's mouth suck his thick black cock - Terrance thought that just by allowing the act would make him a homosexual. For the rest of his life he'd have to live with the thought that he allowed another man, not a woman, suck his cock. It would be too much shame to bear, even though he really didn't have much of a choice.

O'Malley's hot, wet mouth enveloped the teenager's stiffening cock. Terrance never felt anything as pleasurable as this in his life. His cock was now a fully erect, throbbing sausage of black manhood in the determined white officer's mouth.

To Terrance's utter surprise, and utter horror, he was actually enjoying it. Terrance let out a loud involuntary sigh as the white cop bobbed his head up and down between the boy's black thighs. 

Terrance made soft, barely audible protests, "no...no...no..," while grinding his crotch in the nasty middle-aged white man's mouth.

"I don't wanna be no faggot," the teenager gently protested as the officer ran his wet tongue up and down the length of the boy's cock, "I don't wanna be no faggot." 

Terrance breathed heavily in sexual ecstasy. His ashy black knees knocked together with uncontrollable pleasure. He bit his lip. His eyes rolled to the back of his head.

Now the boy was whimpering while grinding hard in the cop's mouth, "no ... no ... no..."

But every other part of the boy's body was saying, "yes."

His muscular brown thighs pushed up against the cop's face. The boy lifted his sweaty, black naked buttocks off of the seat of the car so he could thrust harder in the older man's mouth.

"no ... no ... no ... no ...," the boy's sensual and plaintive protests filled squad car, but to no avail. It only made the cop suck him harder. The black boy's arms were twisted uncomfortably in the handcuffs, but he wasn't feeling any pain - he was too absorbed in the sensations of the white man's tongue and lips on his dick.

The black boy gasped. He breathed heavily. His smooth brown belly and chest heaved up and down, covered with sweat. 

O'Malley felt the pressure building up in the shaft of his captive's cock. The nigger's cock was now twitching in the policeman's mouth. The boy's breath became heavy and labored.

He managed a few more futile protests to save face, "no ... no...," but he couldn't hold back any longer.

The boy exploded in a geyser of hot cum. The thick, sticky white liquid filled O'Malley's mouth tasting like clam chowder. The boy's body shook uncontrollably as he emptied his balls down the older man's throat in wave after wave of uncontrollable orgasm.

O'Malley swallowed all of it. 

He watched the boy's shiny dark body, glistening with sweat, as every one of Terrance's muscles strained with sexual pleasure - pumping his inexhaustible teenage load down the white man's throat.

O'Malley gulped it down. He grabbed the boy's ass, and squeezed his smooth black butt cheeks. 

He swallowed more of the boy's cum, and spread the boy's ass, feeling inside his sweaty black crack, fingering the boy's tight hole, taking total possession of him.

The boy let out a final gasp of exhaustion and collapsed on the seat of the car.

O'Malley straightened up so that he could fully savor the moment, the nearly naked black teenager, with his glowing dark skin, sprawled across the back seat of the officer's car, his comical boxer shorts bunched below his knees.

It was clear, once again, that Officer O'Malley had unrivaled skills at crime prevention.
