The rest of May and June continued in the same vein. Sarah was all prim and proper, the innocent virgin in public, but in private her appetite for oral service was insatiable, her demands of me insistent and her selfishness beguiling. My rampant erections mocked, my young balls left full, swollen and sore, and my desire to take Sarah’s virginity cruelly frustrated.
I felt like a pawn in a game that I couldn’t even see. A dread feeling of fear was in the back of my mind, but addictive arousal always came to the fore.
In July I got my A-level results. Two B’s and a C. When I proudly told Sarah, she burst out laughing. I was baffled. “What’s so funny, babe?” I asked her.
She just winked at me and said, “You’ll see.”
Most of my contemporaries were going off to uni, but I was sick of school and wanted to get a job. This was in the early days of computing, and I’d taken a keen interest in programming, gaming and graphics in the early Atari and Sinclair consoles. This, combined with my B in technical drawing and some family connections, was enough to land me a good job as a CAD technician with a large architect in London.
London was only an hour away, and although Sarah and I would miss each other terribly, she could visit in school holidays and then come and live with me the following summer, after she’d finished her A levels.
I took to the job like a duck to water. CAD brought great efficiencies to the architects, and my skills were in high demand. It wasn’t long before I was headhunted to be CAD Team Leader for another, larger firm.
My ‘team’ was 4 of us, all young and ambitious. Me, Dave (a brash Londoner), Cliff (a South African) and Dwen.
Apart from on TV, Dwen was the first Black person I’d ever met – there simply weren’t any in my hometown, which was (at that time) exclusively white. In my ignorance I somehow expected Black guys to be ‘different’ or even ‘foreign’, but Dwen was neither of those. He was friendly and fun-loving and exuded a calm sense of confidence. He’d come to London from Barbados at the age of 5 and retained a hint of the Caribbean in the deep rumble of his voice.
We were all young, well-paid and good-looking, and on ‘Team Nights Out’, we’d never be short of girls to chat to. Of course for me it was just chat; no other girl could come close to my princess, but the others would always “pull”, either taking some girl home or having a quickie in the pub car park. Dave and Cliff weren’t fussy, but I noticed that Dwen went for blonde girls and always ones with ample bottoms. Late in the evening, when the beer had loosened my tongue, I’d tell Dwen about Sarah. About her bubble butt, about her full breasts, about her honey-sweet young pussy – and confess that I had yet to fuck her. He listened intently, silent but attentive as if filing away every detail for use at a future date.
By the spring of ‘85 my first flat rental was coming to an end, and I was looking to buy my own place. It had to be affordable but also an easy journey into our office in Victoria. Dwen lived in Brixton. He spoke of elegant Edwardian houses and only 4 tube stops to Victoria. He suggested I come and take a look, so one Saturday in early May that’s exactly what I did.
I loved it! So bustling and vibrant, cosmopolitan and buzzing with energy. Dwen’s place was just around the corner from the tube station, and that afternoon I viewed a flat in the same street and put in an offer. Three weeks later I’d moved in and was shopping for furniture.
Sarah was thrilled! She’d never heard of Brixton but couldn’t wait to come and stay when the summer holidays arrived.
Dwen and I became close friends. He was very sporty and loved the gym, a fact evident from his lithe and muscular physique. I’d always been skinny and wanted to fill out a bit, so when he invited me to join him at the gym, I jumped at the chance.
His gym had a branch just near our office, and we arranged to go the next evening. We worked till 8.00pm, so by the time we got there, the place was pretty quiet. We got changed and headed for the weights.
Dwen wore a strappy gym vest and tight track trousers that really showed off his body. It was obvious even with a shirt on that he was well built, but now, seeing him like this, it was hard not to stare. He was so incredibly ripped and sculpted, so hard, so big and imposing. He radiated masculinity with an unmistakable undercurrent of sexual potency.
He took his time to explain all the machines, the exercises we were doing and which muscles they worked. If my form was wrong, he’d gently, but firmly, correct my posture and then demonstrate the correct technique. Feeling him put his hands on me made me feel strangely compliant and eager to please him.
Dwen had me focus on my ‘glutes’. I’d never even heard that word before, but he explained that it means your buttocks. When I asked why I’d want a big bum, he told me that Sarah would love it, as girls love guys with a nice ass. I couldn’t help but notice his own bum, round and full in those tight trousers, the front of which bulged alarmingly, so perhaps he was right.
By the time the workout was finished, I ached all over but at the same time felt a rush of wellbeing. My body had enjoyed being pushed to its limits. I could already feel an amazing pump in my butt cheeks, and I’d enjoyed Dwen’s company and his helpful guidance.
We went through to the changing rooms. “Come on,” he said, “let’s get a shower; I’m dripping sweat.”
Suddenly I felt a bit self-conscious. I’d played team sports all through school and was used to being nude in front of other guys, but somehow with Dwen it felt different. Was it because he was a colleague?
Or perhaps because he’s Black? I’d always wondered if it was true what they say….
Either way, I shyly stripped off beneath my towel, glad there was no one else around. Dwen simply peeled his clothes off and, with his back to me, casually sauntered into the showers, completely naked, carrying his towel.
As I watched him walk away, I felt a sudden pulse and throbbing between my bum and balls. Seeing him nude seemed to emphasise his Blackness. Pure dark chocolate brown, his skin so smooth and every muscle rippling. His wide shoulders, tiny waist and muscular thighs were the essence of Black male perfection.
What a body. I wondered if one day I could look that good. I knew Sarah thought I was too skinny.
I heard the shower go on and, suddenly nervous, I followed him in.
I was taken aback to discover that the showers weren’t individual private cubicles but instead one big open wet room with a dozen shower heads.
Nowhere to hide.
Dwen stood beneath one of them, still with his back to me. A line of soapy water ran from his neck, down his spine and disappeared into the deep cleft between the glistening dark orbs of his glutes. I gulped.
Nothing like this had ever happened before, but with horror I realised that my cock was violently rising up in a powerful, unstoppable erection. I was just about to have a 10-second wash and rush out to the safety of the changing room when slowly, deliberately, Dwen turned round to face me.
Oh fuck! No escape.
I was rooted to the spot. Frozen with astonishment and disbelief. My eyes met his, and then, inevitably, my gaze dropped down, inch by inch, taking him in, in all his glory. His wide chest, 6-pack abs, a thick bush of Afro hair, and the water cascading over him.
After a moment’s hesitation, my resistance crumbled, and, almost as if against my will, my eyes made that final move downward to behold what I already knew would be there to greet them: his massive Black penis.
We stayed like that for – well, how long? Was it an hour or just a second? Time seemed to stand still…
The size of him!
Eventually I snapped out of my trance-like state when I became aware that he was laughing, looking down between my legs and laughing. It wasn’t until I looked down myself that I realised I was fully erect and my 4-inch ‘little thing’ was pulsing and bouncing in time with my heartbeat, trying to become even harder.
“Damn boy, that’s the smallest dick I’ve ever seen! You’re hung like a mouse; no wonder Sarah won’t let you fuck her. You better be good with your tongue,” he said, still chuckling as he stared at my miniature penis, less than half the size of his, even at my biggest.
Mortified, I grabbed my towel and ran for the changing room. I just managed to wriggle into my little briefs, my raging hard-on laid sideways to try to disguise the bulge, when Dwen emerged from the showers. Dripping wet and still totally nude, he stood right in front of me and began to towel himself dry.
I was stuttering and stammering trying to apologise and at the same time trying – and failing – to prevent my eyes being drawn to that king-size Black meat, now (I was sure of it) even longer and thicker than before.
My words dried up completely as he vigorously rubbed himself down. That massive – magnificent – donkey dong came within an inch of hitting me in the face as it swung around wildly. Now at least 9 inches long, it smacked against each thigh as he dried his back. He raised one foot up onto a bench to dry his feet. I was spellbound, bewitched and entranced by his sexual power and majesty. I’d stopped trying to pretend I wasn’t looking and just worshipped him with my eyes.
That is the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.
His giant penis (now pulsing slightly, I was sure I saw) dangled down towards his knees. His foreskin had retracted to reveal a bright pink bulbous head. Thick, raised veins stood out all along his tree-trunk shaft. A drop of water ran down his entire length, slowly dripping over that swollen bellend and settling right at his tip. My mouth was watering; the urge to lick that precious drop was strong inside me, a terrible, wonderful secret desire.
What must he taste like?
Now, up close and for the first time, I saw his balls. I couldn’t believe their size!
They were like two black plums encased in his smooth and heavy sack, the weight of them evident as they hung down a good 4 inches below his perineum.
Unbidden, Sarah popped into my mind.
So much sperm. He’d overwhelm her virgin womb.
He reached into his bag and pulled out a tube of moisturiser. “Gotta keep my skin silky smooth for the ladies,” he said, giving me a knowing wink.
He squeezed out a big blob of the cream and started to rub it in. He started with his arms, then his chest and abs, and then, with his foot up on the bench again, he did his legs, his cock and balls now swinging around between his thighs.
Finally, standing upright again and looking right at me, he squeezed out another smaller bit of cream and, to my astonishment, began to massage it into his giant penis. His eyes never left mine as he smoothed the cream along his entire length. He massaged the cocoa butter along all 10 inches of it (it seemed to be growing bigger and bigger), moving both hands back and forward, each time exposing that bulbous pink bellend, now flared out and fully engorged. I was mesmerised, not just by the size, but by the beauty. I looked up into his eyes and then down again at his cock, now glistening with the sweet-smelling cream and half hard, standing 45 degrees out from his balls.
He’s taunting me.
A drop of drool escaped from the corner of my mouth and fell slowly onto the floor between us.
I snapped out of my trance as he chucked me the cream, turned round and casually said, “Do my back, please, mate.”
“Right, yes, of course, Dwen,” I managed to stammer out. I squeezed some cocoa cream onto my hands, and with a deep breath, I started to smooth it all over his muscular back.
I’d never touched a man in this way. Never even thought of it, but now, putting my hands onto Dwen’s rock-solid, defined physique, my dick was pulsing and jerking, insistently erect but – thank God – still tightly restrained by my briefs.
When I finished his back, he just stood there, waiting. He’d done his legs; I’d done his back… With a heady mix of arousal and disbelief, I realised he wanted his ‘glutes’ done as well. Kneeling down behind him, I took another splash of cream and, after pausing for a moment, placed my hands on Dwen’s majestic derrière. His buttocks were solid, firm and full. His cheeks were smooth with some curls of Afro hair deep in his cleft.
I started to work the lotion into his beautiful skin. His buttocks yielded under my gentle pressure. I increased the pressure, moving my hands in slow rhythmic circles, working deep into his muscles and pulling his bum cheeks wide apart to reveal his most intimate orifice.
He softly moaned (I thought I heard) and moved his legs apart, revealing his enormous balls, now swinging to match the tempo of my adoring hands.
Round and round in circular motions, my hands going deeper each time and pulling those butt cheeks wider, my mouth edging closer and closer…
Reach round and pull my head in, Dwen, I beg you. Make me eat your hole!
Suddenly it was over. “Thanks, mate; hard to reach your own arse!” he said with a carefree chuckle. As he pulled on his boxers, I noticed that he too had to lay his cock sideways to avoid tenting the front. But whereas my little bulge was hardly noticeable, his long, thick pipe went all the way to his hip.
“Come on, Paul,” he said, “let’s go for a drink. We need to have a little chat.”
Once settled into a quiet corner of the pub, I started to blurt out my apology.
“Look, Dwen, I’m so sorry. I’m not gay. I don’t know why I got an erection. Nothing like this has ever happened before. Please, I beg you, don’t tell Dave and Cliff?”
He rocked back in his chair and laughed, that deep, bassy, infectious chuckle that was so endearing. He playfully clipped me round the back of the head.
“Of course you’re not gay! How could you be gay with that hot bitch Sarah as your girlfriend?”
A wave of relief washed over me; my secret was safe, for now. I felt a little pang of anger too. Had he just called my princess a bitch?
“Look,” Dwen continued, “let me explain. An intense workout like we’ve just had makes your levels of testosterone go sky-high. That’s what makes the muscle grow – but it also makes us super horny. I always make sure I’ve got some snowbunny slut lined up for a post-workout fuck, as my balls get so swollen and full. In fact, I’m off to fuck her now, so see you tomorrow, peanut dick.” And after giving me another clip round the head, he was gone.
He was right; I was super horny too. I was sure that was all there was to it: just the testosterone.
When I got home, I phoned Sarah, like I did every night.
After chatting about her day and her upcoming exams, I mentioned that I’d been to the gym.
“Oh, good,” she said, “you’re so weedy; you need to put on some muscle. Who did you go with?”
“Dwen," I told her. “You know, my colleague?”
“Oh yes, is he the Black guy?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Is he muscly?” Sarah’s voice sounded odd, husky and low, a similar tone to the one I normally heard only in bed.
“Well, yeah, he is actually, especially his shoulders, biceps and thighs.” I found my mind wandering back to watching Dwen’s body as we lifted weights…
“Oh fuck me, that’s hot; he sounds like a real man.” Sarah’s words shocked me; she never swore. In the background I could hear a strange noise, a rhythmic wet clicking sound.
“Did you see him naked?" she asked.
“Sarah! Really, babe, what sort of question is that?”
The wet, repetitive noise was louder now, and Sarah’s breath was panting, her voice low and dirty now. I could hear the hum of some sort of electrical device.
“Well, Paul, I just wondered if the rumour is true….”
“What rumour? What are you on about, babe?” I asked her.
“Oh, come on, babyboi,” she said, “you know what I mean.”
I flushed deep red, and a twisted knot of jealousy formed in my stomach, but at the same time my ‘little thing’ rose up with a sudden violent surge. Of course I knew exactly what she meant. My mind was suddenly full of the memory of Dwen’s huge black pipe. The ‘rumour’ was a fact.
“Sarah!” was was all I could say.
Her voice was distant now; she’d put the phone down, but the other sounds were louder: a loud buzzing sound and the sloppy wet rhythm that could only be one thing
Stunned and amazed, I realised she was pumping a vibrator in and out of her perfect pussy as the other hand rubbed her pink clitty. I could hear her moaning and speaking in a hot, low voice as she approached her climax. I couldn’t quite make out what she was saying as she started to cum, but with a sick horror I thought I caught the words “Dwen”, “fuck me” and “big Black cock”.
I heard the line click dead. She’d rung off.
Conflicting emotions ran through my mind, but my cock seemed oblivious. I was going to cum, and I had to quickly pull it free from my jeans, just in time as my jets of spunk shot into the air and my body was wracked by the biggest orgasm I’d ever had.
…
My workouts with Dwen were now 3 nights a week, and I didn’t feel the need to hide my throbbing erection as I watched him shower.
Hey, it’s just the testosterone, right?
And anyway, he seemed to enjoy the attention, taking extra time to wash his huge black snake, always catching my eye as he pulled back his foreskin to reveal that pink bellend and then taking ages to get dry, making sure he taunted me by waving ‘the Beast’ (as he called it) right in my face, and at the same time commenting that my ‘shrimp’ (as he called it) seemed to be getting even smaller every week.
My glutes had really responded to Dwen’s exercise regime. My bum was now full and plump, and Dwen would playfully slap it in the showers and tease me, saying, “Damn, bitch, you’ve got a phat ass made for BBC!” I didn’t understand the television reference, but I was secretly happy to be complimented by him. I loved the way my bum looked too, full, round and plump; my little briefs were barely able to cover it, and it seemed to wiggle as I walked.
By now it was early July, and Sarah was coming to stay. One night in the pub I told him of her impending arrival. His eyes lit up, and he gave me his biggest Caribbean smile.
“So,” he said, “finally I get to meet Sarah Snowbunny! Let’s go out for drinks on Saturday night, a threesome: me, you and the virgin princess.”
I laughed awkwardly. I would never have tolerated that kind of talk from anyone else, but by now I was getting used to the way Dwen talked about girls; it was just his style.
“Ok,” I said, laughing, “it’s a date.”
… To be continued …
