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From: "classic rider" <classicrider14@excite.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Interracial Homosexual Erotic Memoir
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Date: Mon, 19 Mar 2007 05:10:02 -0400
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This is a work of fiction. It includes homosexual acts and racial
humiliation. Anyone who is offended by such fantasies should find
something else to read. This story is not intended to be read by
minors.

I must have been about 8 years old when I first discovered my
attraction to black males. There were some black kids in the
elementary school I attended. In fact, I shared a two-seater desk with
one of them. He was a husky little boy, the color of milk chocolate.

One day we discovered that we could stick our hands inside each others
pants and stroke each other off under the desk without the teacher
even noticing (or so we thought).  I wrapped my hand around his thick
young black cock and stroked it over and over again, calling it the
big black missile. As his cock got harder and harder in my hand we
giggled and I told him the missile was coming out of its silo.

He would also grab my cock, getting me hard. He'd give me a shit-
eating grin and say, I feel that tall white soldier standing at
attention. He and I had a good time that year - I don't recall a thing
that we learned, but we sure enjoyed being in that classroom.

That summer I enjoyed swimming naked in the lake with other boys at
Arrowhead summer camp. Most of the boys in the camp were white, but
there were at least 15 black boys who were there. I was fascinated by
their brown and black bodies and the way their skin would glisten in
the sun.

It was during summer camp, when we were reading stories like
Huckleberry Finn in the early evening, that I got my first black boy
to blow me. We crept off to a quiet place after it got dark and played
"master" and "slave." I really enjoyed watching that black boy get
down on his knees. I enjoyed the feeling his nigger lips on my white
cock. It was a new sensation for both of us.

Over the years I grew to appreciate all kinds of black boys. I like
their rich, dark skin and the variety of hues that they come in --
from dark to golden brown.

I like their captivating eyes and their full lush lips. I like their
nappy hair in braids, cornrows, zig-zags, dreadlocks, close-cut, or
just plain nappy like a wild Afro. I also like the way they carry
themselves - cocky and confident. They walk with rhythm, almost like
they're dancing.

I like the playfully colorful clothes they wear, sometimes like
colorful court jesters. They always make themselves the center of
attention. I like the rhythm in their voice; the tonality when they
talk is a form of Jazz itself.

Above all, I like their masculine sex smell when they get up close to
you so that you can breath down their necks, shoulders and smell their
underarms. There is deep mystery in those dark forest smells from a
black boy's body.

I never really did mind the cool and indifferent attitude that black
boys often affect in the public.  Their manly and independent public
"front" helps to make my conquest of them in private all the more
humiliating. I like black boys who are cocky and arrogant in public or
when they show leadership qualities in Afrocentric arts and literary
circles - then, when I make them go down for me in private it is all
the more ironic and satisfying.

I love fucking that black boy ass - making them take a hard white cock
- when from all outward appearances it would seem that that would be
the last thing these black boys would be willing to do.

I like watching their smooth ebony bodies, flipped on their bellies
and bouncing up and down on the mattress, under my hard white manhood,
taking that white dick. White on top of black - taming the nigga.

Sometimes I fuck those proud black boys so hard they revert to
childhood, sticking the tip of their thumb between their teeth while
they take my hard white cock deep inside their butt.

These days I am starting to hang out at artsy late night cafes where
macho boyish Afrocentric young men, filled with race pride, reel off
poetry about racism and oppression. They have a good sense of racial
humor and racial stereotypes. Sometimes I have one of them over to my
apartment after the show. We drink wine and joke about the racial
stereotypes on old boxes of pancakes and rice.

As the joking becomes more and more intense, and we've had several
glasses of wine - the jokes about white domination and black
subordination get me horny. We slip into role-playing. I'll unzip my
fly and tell him "In the old south a white man could tell you to get
down on your knees and service his white cock anytime he wanted to,
boy - and you'd do it."

I stick my hard white cock in his face. I watch as the black boy can
no longer fight the urge. He sinks to his knees in front of me. I grab
the back of his nappy head and push my cock between his thick moist
lips. Before long I'm looking at a handsome young dark-skinned boy
who, just hours earlier was waxing eloquently about black pride and
black oppression, sucking on my cock like a helpless black slave.

I suppose I would prefer greater mutuality and romance in my sex life
if I thought that gay "relationships" could really last. As it is, I
settle for the short-term excitement of role-playing. I like the
feeling of the conquest of proud and cocky black boys.

I also enjoy showing straight boys that they can become sexually
aroused through male-to-male action even though they don't want to. I
pay black teenaged boys in need of money, to pull down their pants for
me. I can see by the expression on their faces that they are trying to
place their minds 1,000 miles away (probably thinking about their
girlfriends) rather than acknowledging that they are standing bare-
dicked and bare-assed in front of a horny gay white man.

Then, as I slowly play with their dicks and balls, they become harder
and harder. Soon they have an erection they cannot control. They bite
their lower lip and try to look away in shame. They are straight boys,
afterall!

Their dicks are helplessly leaking streams of precum. I lick on their
dick and balls, making them even harder. It doesn't take long before
they completely lose control. They grab the back of my head and pump
furiously in my mouth for immediate relief. They shoot thick, hot
globs of black boy teenaged cum in my mouth. Their cum is sweetly
salty and potent. It is pure protein.

They gasp from the sheer pleasure of their pent-up sexual release.
Then their face clouds with shame at their enjoyment of sex with
another male. They realize that what they did was more than was
required to "just get paid," which is what they keep telling
themselves to justify their behavior.

I enjoy making straight boys cum against their heterosexual will. I
enjoy making them enjoy it, in spite of themselves. I like having that
kind of power over them. I enjoy having control over their strong
young black bodies - making them doubt their manhood. They find that
there are parts of their passions that they can't reign in and that
they have hidden from themselves.

I remember back in elementary school a black boy who was fascinated by
naked white boys. Me and my white buddies took him to a private place
(either in the woods or the boy's bathroom) and dropped our pants and
let him suck on our dicks and lick our asses. I enjoyed seeing him on
his knees, at our feet, respecting our mastery over him. I think he
enjoyed paying homage to young white boys as his masters, which is
something he would never do in the general public.

I think that was about the time that I began to suspect a duel nature
to the psychology of proud black males. During that same time there
was a tough dark-skinned black boy who was a bully and always wanted
to try to intimidate me. Over and over again he and his buddies would
try to get me alone and beat the shit out of me. Then one day, after I
had been swimming in the public pool, that tough black bully walked
into the locker room. But this time he was all alone. His tough thug
buddies were nowhere in sight. I held my breath with fear. I was sure
this was the end of me, there was no where to run. No place to escape
to. I braced myself for the ass whooping he was about to deliver.

He pushed me up against the cold cement wall, but then - to my
surprise - he started sobbing. Tears were streaming down the cheeks of
his black face. I was thinking, "What the fuck...?"

He dropped to his knees, pulled down my swimming trunks and sucked on
my cock for a good long time. He was sobbing, sucking on my white cock
and kissing my balls and my smooth young thighs. After he was through
he got up and left. I was breathless - and aroused.

My most memorable sex has been interrupted sex.

I think the hottest sex I have ever had have been experiences that
were interrupted for some reason. A horny black boy was staying over
my house for the night when I was about 13. He was 16. We wrestled. He
got horny and ripped my pajamas open, exposing my young white body. He
could see that my cock was rock hard. He took this as a good sign and
shoved his big black teenaged cock between my legs. He pushed his way
toward my butt crack.

But then my brother came bounding up the steps, clueless about what
was going on. I jumped under the covers while the black boy pulled his
PJ bottoms back up and that was the end of that. I have often
fantasized about what might have been...

Another time I had a black boy in the grass in a public park at night.
I straddled his face while massaging my thick white cock between his
lips. Just then the police pulled up and started shining their
spotlight in the park. We had just enough time to get ourselves decent
before the spotlight shone on us. The cops left us alone, but the kid
was spooked for the rest of the night. That was the end of that
adventure.

By and large I find that black boys like sex to be rough and rugged,
just like anyone else who is healthy. And the roughness of the sex is
not limited to physical action, it includes verbal racial abuse. Some
blacks will resent such abuse and call me a racist, but when I remain
passionate and sexually aggressive, the next thing I know they are
embracing me tightly while I plow their black asses. They take that
white cock saying "Fuck my black ass you white racist motherfucker.
Fuck me. Fuck me." They grit their teeth and enjoy getting their black
asses "raped," even though they pretend to be fighting me. I think
they are somewhat conflicted about the action.

I had one experience as a freshman in a college dorm where I teased a
black boy with a piece of watermelon. He was a proud "socially
conscious" black boy who lived across the hall. We were good friends
but I swear he wanted to kick my ass when I teased him about liking
watermelon.

I had my shirt off and I was waving this big slice of watermelon in
his face and telling him that I knew he wanted to eat it. He wrestled
me to my bed. I wound up on top of him. Next thing I knew we were
grinding our hard cocks together on the bed. I ended up with my cock
deeply embedded in his firm black ass, shooting my jism inside of
him.

I didn't plan it that way; neither did he. I don't know how it
happened and it never really came up again (he had a white girlfriend,
after all). I just wrote it off as one of those unexpected things that
happen to horny college freshmen. It really made no sense to me at the
time. I don't think it made sense to either one of us - it was just
something that we did without giving any meaning to it.

We both didn't really think of ourselves as being "gay." That's often
how it goes.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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