Gay Interracial - Sex Stories

Gay Interracial

... leafy Westchester acre. I spend my weekdays in the city and Lori and I spend weekends on the ball fields, watching Christina play soccer or Anthony play football. But I have never stopped wanting black cock. There's something about big-balled black boys, they have such animal fire in their eyes, and they saunter along the streets, strutting their stuff like young lions. Since those days in the seventies, their sexuality has become even bolder. It's like they're built for sex, and I have no doubt that over time the human race will turn darker, yielding to the cumulative pressure of longer, harder dicks and seed that is far more potent. So in the years since that spring I've sucked hundred, maybe thousands of black cocks. I've stayed in the city after work, spending hours in the bathrooms of City College where the young bloods know to expect me. One after another they come in, they know the times I'm there -- sometimes I'm doing one when I hear another one bang on the stall door: 'C'mon, don't take all day." I've had black grandfathers, and boys as young as fourteen. It's dangerous, I know. I know that the day will come when I'll take a terrible beating, one of these days when I solicit a boy I'll make a mistake. When I do that it's because something in their manner, some arrogant smirk on their face and the promise of a lean, hard body makes me fight the fear, makes me approach them even though I feel like I'm going to pee in my pants. They're always good, always they have ...

... huge, fat johnsons in their pants. It's like I can smell that about a boy, it's like the raw animal power in their loins expresses itself in subtle signals, that only the attentive pick up. But I know that same power will come out another way someday. Someday I'll pick a boy and he'll beat me near to death. But I won't stop doing this. Lori likes blacks too. She was always a highly sexed girl, I loved the fiery Italian passion in her. She didn't mind my near obsession with sex. No, she seemed to delight in it. For years we made it a regular practice to rent X-rated videos. Once a week I brought home an armful, and we'd spent some wonderful Friday nights working ourselves into an unbearable passion, and then spend the rest of the night, and most of Saturday morning feeding on it. That was important enough to us that we continued doing that even after Christina was born. Lori thought nothing of breastfeeding her while watching a gangbang compilation. But she must have sensed something different about me. Maybe it was the number of fight tapes I rented - she must have thought it was strange that I sat up nights watching white guys take the beatings of their lives at the hands of Tommy Hearns, Sugar Ray or Mike Tyson. Or maybe it was the number of interracial videos I rented for us. Every night there was always at least one, and sometimes two or three. She sensed something though, and she had the appetite to use it to her advantage. So one night we were watching a Anabolic tape, ...