Gay Interracial - Sex Stories

Gay Interracial

... different. They're . . . ummm. . . stronger than we are." He sounded so strange when he said that, and so I wondered again what had happened to him that night with Ken. There wasn't any anger at all in his voice, he sounded resigned, helpless, even weak. And there was some other feeling, something strange. I replayed it in my mind: ". . . they're stronger than we are." Yes, there it was - there was an unconscious sound of admiration, even jealousy deep down in his voice. I lay against him a few minutes more, until I got up the nerve. "Dad, did you suck Ken's dick?" I pulled away from him and looked up at him. He wouldn't look me in the eyes. I was afraid he would turn away, and so now I was the strong one. "It's OK Dad . . ." -- he looked down at the floor, I knew if I said the wrong thing the chasm between us would never close -- "It's OK . . . I mean . . . I did too." He looked at me, and I realized how deep the gulf between us really was. I remembered the shock of what Kyle did to me, the feeling I had that first time a black dick slid into my mouth. I was young and my sexuality was unformed, and in the weeks since then I had reconciled myself to my new role, the way a domesticated animal bonds to it's master, no matter how brutal it's treatment had been. But my father had a fully formed manhood, he had a lifetime of settled attitudes and I knew the effect on him must have been far more wounding. "Yeah . . . but it wasn't just once. . ." he said. "I know Dad . . . I ...

... know." Now I was comforting, I wanted him to know it was OK, that he wasn't less of a father in my eyes because he sucked black cock. "I've done Kyle lots of times, too." "It's like they . . . they . . . they want it all the time," he said. He was nervous, distracted. He scratched his armpit and he seemed short of breath. We stood still there, in the hallway near his fight pictures. We were on a precipice, there was a secret here, something even more shameful than what had happened to each of us. "You know, Dad . . ." My heart was beating wildly, I needed to tell him something else. "Dad, I, I . . ." I had to force the words out. "I umm. . . you know . . ." He looked at me closely. "I . . . like it . . . I like sucking Kyle's dick." He took a deep breath, a breath that seemed to soothe him. The tension in his body was gone. "What's he . . . like?" He said it softly, like a whisper, and he moved slightly closer to me. "He's really built. Really long, Dad." This seemed so strange, talking like this to my father. About other boys - - what their bodies were like. "His body is all muscles. No wonder he throws so hard." "Ken's like that too . . . really, really tight." "I know. I saw him tonight. Couldn't believe how big his cock was." "They're all like that - believe me." "You did others? Before Ken?" "No -- not before Ken. But I used to see them in the gym, in the showers. I mean, I'm a good size myself, but nothing like them." "What's it like to fight one of them?" He looked over at ...