Clement at Sunnydale Part 3

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This is a work of erotic fiction.  It is not to be read by minors.  It includes acts of consensual/non-consensual homosexual acts between two 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. This is a fictional account. Any similarities between characters or institutions depicted in this story and those in real life are unintentional and purely coincidental.

All publishing and reproduction rights are reserved by the author of this story.

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When he first arrived at Sunnydale, Clement hated the older white teenagers because they were constantly making him suck their cocks and swallow their cum, but after two years of practice he had become quite an accomplished cocksucker. He became so good at it, in fact, that he his bronze Asian roommate also enjoyed his services at night. Clement never thought of these activities as being homosexual, however. Instead he thought of what he was doing as finding a way to get closer to the other boys’ manhood. He was learning about masculinity in the best and most intimate way he knew how – by submitting to the thrusts of these boys in his mouth and letting them ejaculate down his throat, making the boys he admired a part of him. 

Still, Clement felt most relaxed when he was around black boys.

There was something missing at Sunnydale, but Clement couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Back in “the hood” there were many ways for a young boy to have his manhood validated. Older teenagers were more than willing to mentor the younger ones, teaching them the power of black male sensuality by sticking their hard cock in the younger boys’ faces in the locker room of the basketball court, or in dark urban alleys, encouraging the younger boys to lick it. They wanted the boys to experience what the “bitches” experienced, so they would know how to use their equipment on the girls.

This is how black male training in sexuality is done.

And teenage black boys were good teachers, too, when it comes to sexuality. The older boys make the younger ones kneel in front of them while they unfasten their low-rider trousers, pull down their boxer shorts, exposing a dense, nappy bush of teenage pubes and a sausage-like thick black cock.

The older boys forced the younger ones to suck on their ashy brown cocks. In the projects and inner-city ghettos black males live by a different set of rules than other people do. Having grown up surrounded by the sound of beast-fucking, banging through ghetto apartment walls late at night, and having seen many men and women walking around the “hood” nearly naked in the summertime, black teenagers take it as a matter of course to express their sexuality quite openly, in semi-public places. It is not uncommon to step inside an elevator in an apartment building and, on the ride down, realize that the boy standing behind the girl has his zipper down and has pulled down the back of her sweat pants, along with her panties, and has shoved his teenage cock inside of the young girl’s pussy. She is not only riding the elevator to the ground floor, she is also riding on the young boy’s cock to ecstasy.

Outsiders just have to get used to it.

Ever since Clement was confined to Sunnydale he had to work harder to find the companionship he needed in order to validate his manhood within the black community. Clement spent so much time around white boys, sucking their cocks and licking their asses, that he couldn’t be sure whether or not black boys from the ghetto would still accept him.

He was relieved when he was able to make friends with a new black youth named Leroy. Leroy was handsome, cocky, and brash; all the things Clement wanted to be but lacked the confidence to imitate. Clement wanted to get close to Leroy, to learn from the boy – he wanted to imbibe the lessons of manhood that seemed to flow from the older boy’s sweat glands. The thought flashed across Clement’s mind that maybe if he could lick Leroy’s balls he could become strong and confident just like Leroy. Clement was started by the strange thought and laughed aloud at himself for even thinking it.

But then he realized that maybe the thought was not so strange after all. If men eat dried bull’s blood in sausage in order to get extra strength and energy, why shouldn’t they swallow handsome boys’ semen in order to become witty and attractive like the boys they so much admire? Doesn’t the essence of a young man flow through his body fluids?

The two boys, Clement and Leroy, became fast friends and began to spend all of their free time together. They did the kinds of things normal boys do, they rough-housed, played video games and told nasty sex stories (mostly made-up or greatly exaggerated) about their sexual exploits. They told each other of “ghetto bitches” who go down on them when they are out of Sunnydale on furlough, and who they have “fiending” after their handsome young cocks, unable to get enough of it. In their own minds the boys were lady-killers; no girl their age, or older, could resist them. They told each other that even middle-aged white teachers wanted to suck their black dicks, and this part may not have been too far from the truth. It was not uncommon for young white school teachers to become “knocked up” with little black babies during their first few years in urban classrooms.

Clement felt he could learn a lot from Leroy. Every time Clement and Leroy wrestled he could feel the older boy’s thick black cock through his sweat pants, pressing against Clement’s struggling body. To Clements chagrin, this always made him aroused. He tried to conceal his hardening cock from Leroy, but he was pretty sure that Leroy knew. He was sure Leroy could feel it.

When Leroy pinned Clement to the floor he started grinding his thick cock between Clement’s legs, using Clement like a cheap ghetto whore. Clement trembled with passion, even though he hated the thought that the older boy felt he could take advantage of him like this. There are no gay people in the black community, Clement told himself. Anybody who was gay became that way by hanging around too many white people. Clement knew that he couldn’t be gay because too many black women wanted to ride his cock and swing on his nuts.

When Leroy crossed the line like this Clement gave him an annoyed look and snapped, “Yo, quit grindin’ on me. I ain’t yo’ bitch, son.”

Leroy gave the boy a gutter laugh, “I ain’t grindin’ on you, man.  I’m wrestling you. You must be a faggot to even thinkin’ that. You must really want it, that’s why you said it.” 

Clement felt sufficiently put in his place by the boy so that Leroy felt free to press his thickening cock more snugly against the smaller boy’s body, daring him to make more of an issue out of it.

Clement knew the code of the streets, real black men aren’t gay, and you don’t tell a dude that he is treating you like a bitch, otherwise you are one. The only thing Clement could do was to just lay there, let the older boy get off on him. He had to silently suffer the humiliation.

Clement let the horny black teenager have his way with him, cursing him under his breath while being ashamed about how good it felt to have the black teenage boy’s firm, muscular body laying on top of him.

Leroy’s thick cock rubbed and pressed against Clement’s passive body. Clement bit his lip in embarrassment, trying to replace any pleasure he was feeling with pain. He couldn’t enjoy this feeling. He wasn’t a Homo. He tried to look up at the ceiling to take his mind off of the arousing sensations he was feeling as the older boy held him tight and continued grinding on him. 

It was all to no avail. 

Clement could feel his cock getting harder and harder. Leroy must have felt it too. He looked down at the boy and gave him another knowing grin. “Youse likin’ dis shit,” he taunted the boy, “Youse nuthin’ but a muthafuckin’ faggot.” 

Clement took a deep breath, as if to summon what was left of his manhood. Then he turned his head away in shame.

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Somewhere, deep in the recesses of two teenagers’ minds, they were following the traditions of their black African ancestors. They may not have known it, but they were reliving the tribal African rite of passage, where teenage boys go off into the woods together and become men. An elder guides them in the ritual of sucking each others’ cocks, and often the elder’s cock as well, as they are introduced to the secrets of manhood. A real man has cum in his mouth.

 This tradition was later reinforced on slave ships, where young, supple teenage boys were packed so tightly together that they couldn’t help rubbing their cocks against each others’ smooth, muscular naked black bodies. Hard African cocks rubbed against bulbous and shapely black asses, arms and legs. Slave traders made the boys lay on top of each another, forcing them to feel their buddies’ thick African manhood, and the rise and fall of his torso as their breath grew more rapid with excitement. 

Later, after gaining emancipation and eventually being able to attend black colleges, the boys formed their own fraternities where they could get away with forcing young pledges to strip naked and suck upper the classmen’s cocks. This was all part of the hazing process to see if they were worthy of “brotherhood.”

Also, in the gym and on urban cement basketball courts, young men slammed their sweaty black bodies against each other, giving each other raging boners as testaments to their mutual masculinity, but having to conceal these boners lest anyone accuse them of being less than men. 

Nobody said anything about the homoerotic side of these activities; the boys silently enjoyed fleeting bodily pleasures that took them to verge of orgasm. They kept their arousal to themselves, while they searched for more opportunities rub up against another firm, young “brother.” 

Black women grew suspicious and envious whenever young black men got together. They sensed that they could never compete with the pleasures that come from feeling the strong, healthy body of another young male in sporting events and other casual encounters. They boys were sleek and hard, while the women tended to be soft and flabby. There was no contest between the two.

 The women harbored the unsettling suspicion that their “honey” was sharing his cock with his “homeboys” in a silent affirmation of each other’s manhood. Black teenage boys even made a competition out of, trying to steal a feel of each other’s cocks in the locker room, trying to see how big they were, and trying to make the other boy hard so they could see how much “stuff” he was “packing.” Clement often wondered what Leroy’s girlfriend thought when she realized that she was not the only one who felt her man’s rock hard cock and knew its length and thickness.

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Boys in the ghetto try to project a hard front, but they quickly get into fights. Before you know it, they are pressing their black bodies against each other. Fights subtly turn into sexual contests as sweaty dark bodies tussle and hard black cocks sword-fight beneath silky basketball shorts or cotton warm-up pants. The boys feel the throbbing life that pulsates between their black brothers’ legs and it gives them bursts of energy to get on with their day.

Black boys are horny. Clement and Leroy were no different. They couldn’t go through an entire day without feeling their cocks get hard, as if they had a mind of their own. The boys were constantly creating excuses to rub their bodies together and steal a feel here and there. After “accidently” stroking another boy’s cock through his pants, for feeling the boy’s ass, they were quick to apologize, “My bad. My bad,” or “No Homo, man. Ho Homo. I didn’t mean to touch yo’ dick like dat, and feel up yo’ ass.”

Black boys’ cocks get so hard that it drives them to distraction and they can’t even get their school work done. All they can think about is the hard cock that is throbbing uncomfortably between their legs, in desperate need of relief. The demand of the thick black cock for constant attention is the hidden drive behind most black boys’ behavior. 

Clement kept telling himself, “Even though I be hard when a nigga rub up against me, that don’t make me no faggot.”

Clement was aroused by Leroy’s body which was the rich brown color of slightly burnt caramel. His skin was smooth and glowed with the oil of cocoa butter. As far as Clement was concerned his arousal, from having the teenage dude on top of him, could be excused because the boy wasn’t fat and hairy, like a full grown man. Rather he was sleek, with boyish masculinity, like a golden god. 

Clement told himself, “I ain’t no faggot ‘cause I don’t want to be no bitch.” 

If he heard boys teasing each other about cocksuckers being faggots Clement tried to convince himself that what they were talking about somehow didn’t apply to him.

“Yeah, I wanna suck a nigga’s dick,” he’s admit, “But I don’t want him to fuck me in da ass. I’ll swallow a nigga’s cum but that aint because I wanna be his bitch; I just wanna be more like him. If he nut in my mouf maybe some of what he got will rub off on me. But that don’t mean I want to be a woman. That aint bein’ no fag.”

But no matter how vehemently Clement argued these points with himself he still got embarrassed every time he caught himself staring at another dude’s package.

Clement knew he wasn’t a faggot because both he and Leroy still loved “bitches.” Still, Clement admitted, there is something different about the way a sleek adolescent body feels when he is clutching you and slowly grinding his hardening cock between your thighs. No woman can make a dude feel the way another young dude can.  

Clement hoped that Leroy felt the same way, but he couldn’t be sure. One time Leroy caught him staring at his crotch, studying the lump under his pants. Clement realized Leroy was so well-endowed that he couldn’t conceal his sexual organs no matter how hard he tried. 

The older boy suddenly broke the spell with a mocking laugh, “Yo bitch, you can just reach on over here and suck it if that’s what you wanna do.”

Clement blushed, shot the boy an angry look and turned away. “Fuck you, man. Nigga – I aint gay, yo. I suckin’ nobody’s dick unless they make me.”

Leroy gave the boy a sharp laugh, “Nigga, I was just playin’ wit chu. I aint really serious…”

But Leroy thought he caught a look of longing in Clement’s eyes so he added, “Unless you really gonna do it…”

Clement waved the boy off with disgust and anger, “Naw, man. I’m aiiiight.”

Leroy thought he’d push it further, milking the boy’s obvious embarrassment for all it was worth, “You sure, dawg? You sure you don’t wanna suck a little bit of dick?”

Clement gnashed his teeth, “Yeah, yeah nigga. I’m sure. I told you, I aint gay. I aint no faggot. Get yo’ mama to suck yo’dick.” 

Leroy cracked a smile, “Well I’m just sayin’, cause I seen you checkin out my dick an’ I figured…”

Clement cut him off, “Nigga, I’m cool. I’m cool. Now leave me the fuck alone.”

Leroy enjoyed the boy’s discomfort, “Okay, because if you wanna give me some head just raise your eyebrow and let me know…”

“Fuck you, nigga. Fuck yo’ faggot ass, talkin’ like that.”

 “Well it look like you the one who the faggot, seein’ how you be checkin’ me out; you don’t see me checkin’ you out, do you?”

“Shut the fuck up, nigga. Just shut the fuck on up.”

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Clement felt caught in a swirl of confusion. He wanted to suck the older boy’s cock, but he didn’t want Leroy to see their relationship to be like this. He didn’t want Leroy to think of him as being a sissy punk cocksucker who wanted to be a bitch instead of a man. He wanted to feel the intimacy of Leroy’s cock in his mouth, but as an act of brotherhood, not emasculation. Sucking Leroy’s cock should make Clement more of a man, not less of one.

 He wanted the experience of sucking his buddy’s cock to be as masculine as a wrestling match or a game of hoops. He wanted sex, but he wanted it rough, rugged and manly. He wondered why anyone had to be “the woman” all the time. He asked himself why sex couldn’t sometimes just be between two men, where nobody had to play the role of a “female.”

Furthermore, he thought of cocksucking as being an exercise of power. When he sucked another dude’s cock, bringing the dude or orgasm, he felt he had more control of the other boy’s body than the boy himself. He was making the boy do something – shake, quiver and sigh in ecstasy – that the boy couldn’t help doing so long as Clement’s warm, moist mouth was working on the boy’s throbbing hard manhood.  To grab another guy’s cock and suck it, making the boy spasm out of control, Clement began to believe, was an act of strength, not weakness. 

He imagined himself tying up a straight boy from the outside who had never resorted to the things the boys at Sunnydale, since they had to be away from their girlfriends for such a long time, were willing to experiment with in having their sexual needs met. Clement imagined raping that straight boy from the outside, raping him with his mouth – making him cum with more intensity than he had ever experienced with any woman – making the boy cum when his entire self-image forbade him to enjoy sex with anyone other than a woman. Clement felt that he wouldn’t be weak if he did this; he would have broken the other boy down. Clement felt that would be strength. He would make a boy become something that the boy didn’t want to become in his wildest dreams. He would make the boy become, through his involuntary orgasm in Clement’s mouth, something the boy swore he was not and never could be. If it is power to torture someone until you make them beg, isn’t it also power to arouse someone, against their will, until you make them ejaculate?

But the rest of the world didn’t see things that way, and that probably included Leroy.

Clement was in a sour mood for the rest of the afternoon. The two boys played video games, but barely spoke a word to each other. Clement was as frustrated with himself as he was with Leroy. He was frustrated because he couldn’t find the words he needed to make Leroy understand.

As the boys silently played, Leroy occasionally caught Clement gazing at his crotch and his smooth, brown arms with a look that Leroy interpreted as longing. He smirked at the boy, but didn’t say a word.

Clement returned the smirk with a glare and a frown. Then he tried harder to concentrate on his game, trying not to look at the other teenager’s body. A strong, agile, glowing brown body which he wished he could make a part of him.
