Gay Interracial - Sex Stories

Gay Interracial

... men had sat like this, lingering around dying fires in a frightening world. Wondering what their women were dreaming about, what that strange look in their eyes meant. Men like us, who knew there were other men approaching, men that were better in every way. "You asked me before what it was like to watch my wife?" I said. "So you . . . thought of this." "Yes," he said. "I know she'll do it anyway. She's young and passionate. And I do want to . . . see them. To watch her, the way she responds . . ." That I understood. I may have had some feeling of jealousy, but if I did they were submerged under a foaming sea of voyeuristic thrills. I thought of his young wife, wondering if she'd be like Lori her first time. Just the thought of it aroused me. I told him about things, wanting to share the extraordinary thrill of it with someone who seemed to share my views. I told him about how Lori acted, I described the faraway look in her eyes, the way her face contorted when she pulled a man into one of her strange rape dramas. He stared at me, his eyes were bright, and yes, I could see him grow excited. "I wonder . . ." he was choosing his words, his voice was hesitant. ". . . she's mentioned your boy." Yes. He needn't have hesitated, it was such a thrilling idea. I knew he'd need no encouragement - all Anthony thought about now was pussy, and I'd seen him glancing at Michelle. Yes. "Would he do it?" he asked. "Do you remember how you were when you were thirteen?" I asked, astonished at ...

... such a question from a student of humanity. ** Through all the wild, spontaneous meandering of our safari, we never lost sight of Mount Kilamanjaro. It was always there, looming above us like an approaching weather front. The day after Claude and I had our long talk, we were almost at the base. This would be our last day among the animals. Tomorrow Anthony and I would climb it. We'd begin our four day walk up into the clouds. Claude and Michelle made arrangement to join our vehicle. Claude had taken me aside and said he spoke to Michelle that morning, and yes, she wanted the boy. She didn't take his word for it, though. I felt a hand on my elbow as I was loading my bags onto the jeep. "Your boy . . . " -- she spoke softly as I turned to her, he was approaching us from the tent -- ". . . you know I like him?" I couldn't speak for a moment. She had lovely brown eyes, the spill of her hair held the morning sun like a halo. Her hand was still on my elbow, I could feel her warmth, and I was overwhelmed with the idea that all her beauty might be his today. "It's OK? That I like him?" Words that were like a signpost, pointing to her meaning. "Yes." I said. "Yes. It's all right." Once I said that she sprang into motion. She grabbed the gunrack and slid quickly into the front seat, getting there just as Anthony approached. She smiled at him and patted the seat beside her. He didn't even look at me, so quickly did he take her offer. All day long she worked him. She sat close to him, and ...