Daddy Mack

Cleveland, Ohio, 1991

“Damn, baby boy,” the husky voice of the hairy, slim and sweaty forty-nine-year-old black man clamping down on my ankles groaned, “You got some of that good asshole, doncha boy?”

The problem with growing up a noticeably handsome nineteen-year-old of both African-American and Mexican descent in the slums of Cleveland Ohio is that if every other word coming out of your mouth isn’t talking about breaking in some pussy or making some bread to get some pussy, then you had a tendency to stick out like a sore thumb with the rest of your crew.

It wasn’t like I was a virgin or anything. It was just that pussy didn’t do anything for me. In fact, I knew that long before I started getting some. But in my attempt to fit in, I continued to do the do with the girls, hoping one day I could muster up the same enthusiasm about hoe-hopping as most of my boys did talking about it.

It could be argued that I was only nineteen. Grown enough that I could’ve easily bounced elsewhere to avoid these useless conversations, but the only reason I stuck so close to my crew was because I knew Daddy Mack was going to eventually pop up. The funny thing was, even though I knew I had a hard-on for guys, I wasn’t even looking at Daddy Mack like that. Sure, he was cute, in a mature sort of way, standing about five-foot-nine with milky skin the consistency of cold cream that wouldn’t brown no matter how long he sat out in the blistering sun. I might have thought he was handsome if it wasn’t so well hidden behind the flashiness of his latest threads or the chunky gold chains or the diamond studs in his hear or the sparkly rings that donned every one of his long skinny fingers.

But no, I had my eyes locked on this guy in my HVAC class named Chachi, a short thickset Trinidadian dude with this incredibly powerful he-man build. He looked like he was dipped in a chocolate chip brown finish that made me fiendish for a bite of cookie every time I saw him. Chachi was much closer to my age and had this bad boy swagger, riding in on his Suzuki motorcycle, fresh out of prison trying to get his life back on track. He was ahead of his time, showing no shame in flirting with me out in the open like it was nothing. Even in front of potential booty calls that thought his authoritative accent was incredibly sexy or in front of instructors that told him to cool it. It didn’t matter. Like I said, he wasn’t bashful in letting everybody know that he liked what he saw. Of course, being a young man asserting my manhood, I was slightly embarrassed and angry before putting him in check. And yet, secretly I was turned on like an inferno that needed desperately to be cooled off.

Then, one day, as I made my way over to the bathroom to take a leak, and as I was getting ready to walk out, I was talked back over to the sink. I don’t know how his little ass did it, but he had me posted up against the countertop with his hands roaming against my ass, kissing me like I had never been kissed before. When I wasn’t in euphoria already, I felt his cumbersome friend hurting to come through his pants. I won’t even lie. I was hot in the ass, even though I never had a dick a day before in my life. I got so soaking wet at the possibility that it wasn’t even funny. It didn’t go any further than that, though, and within the next couple of days I walked around feeling like something was missing from my asshole.

I probably should’ve known that Chachi was simply going for a fuck with the pretty redbone he thought he flipped, but I had already made plans for him to be my boyfriend on the simple basis that he was a man about his. And in my horny naivety, I thought I would make it official with sex. The problem was we were both living at home with our families and so broke that scoring a room at the roach motel was too rich for our blood. I took my cue from him and lured him into one of the bathroom stalls and offered up the best blowjob an enthusiastic first timer could ever deliver. I bobbed and weaved, sucked and licked, and was rewarded with a mouthful of man-milk that I guzzled proudly because I thought Chachi was my man.

The day after, as I was expecting life to be lovey-dovey with my new man, he delivered one of the coldest pimp lines I ever heard, appreciating me for putting him on but he wasn’t in the business of fucking around with a knob slobber out of the stalls.

I was devastated. I was so devastated that instead of catching the bus home, I walked five miles home in the drizzling rain just to get there. And when I got there, I found out that I lost my house key, leaving me to scour the neighborhood hoping to find one of my homeboys at home. I was batting a thousand before this Cadillac pulled up beside me.

“What it is, playa?” Daddy Mack shouted from his car with the mobile phone inside.

“Nothing,” I said somberly, keeping my focus on the sidewalk straight ahead.

“I would ask if you need a lift, but you’re already at home. So, the only reason a man would fuck around with this pneumonia is if he really got to get somewhere or he lost his mind over a piece of tail.”

“I just passed up two bus stops.” I mouthed, as he slow-strolled next to me in his ride.

“There’s always other fishies in the sea,” Daddy Mack comforted, noticing the graying strain around his temples. “As good-looking as you are, you won’t have a problem getting another scallywag on your jock.”

“It ain’t even like that. It’s just been a bad day all the way around. To top it off I’m locked out of the house and can’t find anywhere to go.”

“Hop on in then, my brotha. You can hang out at the crib with me for awhile.”

About five minutes later, we were inside of this two-bedroom house sitting on the street. Although, we had known each other since forever, we didn’t have the kind of relationship where he invited me over to his house. I was sort of setback that the décor of the place reminded me of my uncle’s old bachelor’s bad back in the 70s with the black light artwork of naked black women with afros. The slight difference was that part of the room did have more of a trendier flow of the time period with neon innuendoes.

We sat on his soft leather sofa, and he offered me a cold drink. I accepted being the only two choices he had was water and beer. I wasn’t thirsty. I was just desperate to prove my manhood again by gulping down a couple of bottles of the awful-tasting brew.

“What’s wrong?” Daddy Mack asked after he popped opened his third bottle.

“No offense, man. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I really don’t feel like talking about it. It’s just as sad as it is embarrassing.”

“What? Having performance issues already, Youngblood?” Daddy Mack asked seriously.

“Naw,” I laughed, thinking about the job I did on Chachi less than twenty-four hours ago, sipping on my second brew, “nothing like that.”

“Okay, then,” Daddy Mack conceded. “If you don’t feel like getting into it with me that’s fine. I understand. I’ve been there. But whatever you do, Youngblood, don’t let that shit build up in your heart over a piece of ass. You hear?”

I nodded in agreement.

We engaged in a bit of small talk on some other subjects between sips, with the most astonishing revelation to come out was that he wanted to get me “alone” for a “very long time”, breaking me free from some of those “lames” that I hung out with. He told me that I had a good head on my shoulders with school and stuff. I would’ve have left his words at face value if it wasn’t for Chachi teaching me a few things before he kicked me to the curb.

He started coming at me with that game, too. Wanting to get me alone to talk and stuff. The only difference was that Chachi was a lot blunter about why he wanted to get me alone in oppose to Daddy Mack claiming he wanted to swim inside of my head.

Then, too, I knew I could’ve simply been over thinking my step.

Daddy Mack was a playa. He had that charisma that made it seem like he thought you were the only person in the room when he was holding court in a crowd full of people. He had that thing that if you weren’t around him, there was something big you were missing out on.

He was just wrapping up another one of his infamous sex stories when he asked if it was cool for him to turn on the TV. I had no objections. He goes for the remote to turn it on, and on pops up this woman getting hit in the eye by a jet of yellowish cum.

“Oh, damn! I’m sorry. I get off on this freaky shit. It always gives a brotha some fresh ideas on how to put it on that stankin’ pussy.”

“Yeah, without a doubt,” I said grinning, looking at this humungous dick on the man on television.

The only time I got to watch stuff like that was at the handful of bachelor parties I was fortunate enough to attend or whenever I felt like hauling my ass over to one of those jack-off theatres whenever I felt the pressure build up.

“You want to keep it here or something a little bit more PG-13?”

“This is cool, right here.” I said making a failed attempt not to sound too eager.

We sat around watching for a few minutes more and perhaps into the second scene was this blonde-headed white girl getting eaten out by this beefy black dude. It was nothing new, just the foreplay needed to get to the action. But after awhile this guy just kept at it like she was his last supper until it became clear that he was going to tongue-torture her to pleasure forever.

Out of nowhere, Daddy Mack with his hand in his lap, looked me dead in the eye and asked, “Not in a queer way, but I always wonder how a dude would feel if he got ate out that way?”

“I wouldn’t know. I’d think it probably felt the same way as getting your dick sucked with the nerve endings and such.” I said repeating something I heard.

“I thought so, too. When I was stationed over in Germany, I had this buddy that said that he got off on his wife eating him out. He said it was better than getting sucked off. I told him that I would have to take his word for it because my asshole was a one-way street!”

“Yeah, I know that’s right!” I laughed nervously, though in the back of my mind I was sure it was one of the weirdest things a man could say to another man after watching something like this.

The more we watched the screen, the more I thought about it, especially in hindsight that Daddy Mack was baiting me all along, always using me as a physical example in most of his stories. Touching me and touching me there. Even thought I wasn’t into him like that, I always managed to get the best view of his big-ass dick running down his leg behind his thin hand. It definitely caught my attention in the tight pants he wore. And not like I wanted to cop a feel or something as much as it was why I couldn’t be packing like that? Don’t get me wrong. I was always proud of the size of my dick. It was just the idea of bulging out of my pants that always intrigued me.

“Damn, he’s eating that pussy up!” Daddy Mack proclaimed after a few more passing minutes. “The way this is running I’ll probably score some more tail before he scores once!”

I laughed.

“Shit,” Daddy Mack continued. “I can probably drop you off on the block, pick up a chick from around way, fuck her and feed her and he still wouldn’t be finished with his meal.”

“I don’t have any doubts about that.”

“As awful as this may sound, my last fuck didn’t last this long.”

“Damn. When was that?”

“If you leave it at just a mic job then it would’ve been this morning. About a couple of days go, if you’re talking about giving that middle eye a black eye. What about you, Mr. Lovah?”

“It’s been a minute.” I said slowly.

“That’s alright, nothing to be ashamed of. Keep that mind on your education, make that paper, and soon there will be so much pussy coming at you that you’ll probably have to throw some of it back.”

“I hope not.”

“I hope not either.” Daddy Mack winked.

We watched a few minutes more with nothing much changing with the action except that the woman was about to pass out from the pleasure begging for some dick. I knew I was hard, but I hadn’t the foggiest of ideas of how hard Daddy Mack was until I saw it tower out of his naked lap like some veiny lighthouse.

“Whoa!” I said trying my best not to look directly at it.

I knew he was long through his pants print, about nine and a half to ten inches or so. But I didn’t know that his banana-colored dick was so damn thick, too. Just like a plantain.

“Sorry, man. I forgot all about you, you being so quite over there and all. My mind was somewhere else. Like I said before, I get off on this freaky shit.”

I just looked over at him a bit shaken up. He didn’t say it as if he was implying something. It just felt like he was just as uncomfortable as I was.

“It’s cool.” I comforted him.

“Might as well get comfortable yourself…because I ain’t going anywhere until I get it out and I can go the distance when I want to.”

I nervously undid my belt and my pants and let my leaky-tipped dick spring out. As I kept my pants on over my ass, he slid his down to his ankles reminding me that he lived alone and that he had some leather cleaner in the back just in case I started to sweat. Even so, I kept my pants up.

“Like I was saying, I was just thinking that I wouldn’t mind munching on some ass, and then poke him for not poking her already.”

“No disrespect, man, but that sound like a fairy move.” I said keeping my eyes glued straight to the screen.

“It’d only be on some fairy shit if you weren’t secure in your manhood in the first place.”

“Maybe you’re right, folk.”

“I know I am. Let’s say we’re behind bars and I say that I got your back if you give me some head. What would you say?”

“Hell naw, folk,” I said seriously guilty.

“We’re in prison. There isn’t anything else your pretty ass can do other than get took. It doesn’t mean that you’re going to spend the rest of your life on your knees sucking dick. You’re just doing what needs to be done in order to survive.”

“Why are we even going there? Neither one of us is in prison.”

“You’re absolutely right.” Daddy Mack conceded softly. “I’m just looking around the room and seeing two grown-ass men with their dicks out. One of which is getting a case of mad munchies and another that has the ability to tell me if my German bud was right.”

I looked over at the screen where echoes of pleasure were being emitted and I thought about that day I felt like something was missing out of my asshole.

“I can’t even lie. That sounds like something I could get into.” I said sliding my pants off my ass and looking over at him.

“How would you know if you never tried it?”

“I won’t tell if you don’t.” I joked.

“You better not tell! I got a rep to protect. And if you flap your gums, then I’m going to have to beat your ass.” Daddy Mack laughed with a rope of seriousness in his husky tone.

“You have to tongue it first.” I said, letting my words linger in the air for about a moment, and then began pulling my baggy jeans over my big boots. “So if I let you do it you promise not to tell anybody?”

“Just between you and me, kid,” Daddy Mack grinned, leaning over on top of me.

It took us a few seconds to find the right position, but after we got it together, I was lying naked on the sofa with one leg on the ground and the other draped over the top of the sofa. Daddy Mack just dove in with his tongue, bringing my ass up to his face teasingly licking the outside of my hole. I didn’t know what to get or to expect from this unusual experience as it was mostly weird than it was pleasurable with my erratic uneasiness with the biggest player in the neighborhood making me his latest conquest. I felt his finger reach behind my leg and pinch my nipples in this peculiar way and it was over. My butt hole flared open, and my dick strained just a bit harder. I didn’t know what to do. I was so lost in this flooding pleasure that I just pushed his face to get his tongue further in there. He seemed to expect this, swabbing the inner circle of my hole and then occasionally sticking his wet tongue so far in there that I was hungry for more.

“Oh, gotdamn,” I cried.

It was the first time I felt something like this, and I was fighting harder than ever to keep my manhood in check. But it did no good. I was rolling my phat booty all over his face and trying my best to stay tight-lipped about wanting his dick up in me since I had never been fucked and it was barely a day before I thought Chachi was going to be my first.

“You gonna let me melt up in this bitch, Youngblood?” Daddy Mack said, pulling his face away from my tender hole.

“Huh?” I huffed, catching my breath.

“Let me stick my man up in that sweet spot! Have you singing real pretty for me.”

“No, man,” I quivered with him replacing his tongue with one thin stabbing finger that was just sinking into me with very little resistance.

“Huh?”

“No,” I whimpered with another finger barreling its way into me.

“Yeah, you are. Can’t you hear it? Can’t you feel it? It’s got Daddy Mack’s name written all over it. Let Daddy Mack show you that there’s nothing for a sweet redbone thing like you to be scared of.”

I wasn’t aware how lightheaded I was until he pulled me straight over his lap where I felt his dick and the thick slimy good it was covered in against my pubes. Before I could get myself ready, he bounced me up on his lap and the next thing I know I feel this incredible pain slowly shooting up in the center of my ass.

“Shhh!” He hissed at my bawling on top of him. “Give it a minute. I’ll make you feel real good, I promise.”

I was so sure I pulled something that it didn’t occur to me with him eating me like he did and the slippery stuff on his dick made for the easiest entry.

My eyes were screwed tight. I was still gritting my teeth hoping he might be right about eventually making me feel good. And he was. The pain subsided, but it didn’t become a flood of pleasure either. I was sort of stuck in this middle ground that was turned into something more when he started sucking on my nipples. The sensation charged straight through my dick and my hole again, and I instantaneously bucked against him a couple of times. He returned the favor and bucked twice more thinking that I was getting into it.

“I told you. That Daddy Mack feels good up inside of you, don’t he?”

I was still breathless and confused and inexperienced and nervous to get into it, and it didn’t help me get any more perspective when I felt the sting of his rough hands swatting my ass as he bounced me up and down on his lap.

“Now you know why those bitches love me so, right?” He laughed against my incoherent grumblings.

I was still in this state of hanging for about fifteen minutes into our fucking before he laid me down on the shag rug next to the glass coffee table. I don’t what it was. Maybe it could have been him on top of me or having more room for him to maneuver, but when he pinned my legs back and guided his thick dick into me he instantly became part owner of my hole. He started out rolling on top of me, taking these forceful lunges into me before he pulled back, grabbing my ankles and taking these insanely long and deep strokes that made me sign my entire butt hole over to him.

“Whoa wee! This shit is better than pussy!” Daddy Mack bragged, pouring of sweat between my legs.

He went in for another round of rabbit-fucking before he just pulled on out.

I thought he was getting ready to bust a nutt somewhere on my body. But he didn’t even grab his greased dick staring down at me proudly.

“What?” I asked as he just looked down at me with his hand on his waist, panting and sweating.

He let out a laugh. I got the joke when I felt that my legs were too stiff to put my legs back down.

“Reach on back there.” He ordered. “Before you couldn’t get the head of a bobby pin back there, and now you can dig yourself out with four fingers!”

He was right. I rubbed my fingers back there and all four of the just slid on in there like it was nothing. I was more than a little freaked out, not knowing if it was permanent or not. And before I could share my concerns, he moved my fingers out of his way and ploughed his way back into me.

“That’s what I’m talking about. Let me here that boy pussy talk.” Daddy Mack groaned as he fucked me with this new sense of urgency.

I thought I could take all that I could take when I felt his low-hanging balls beat loudly against my hole. But that was nothing compared to the wobbly sound coming out of my asshole every time he dove in. It was almost like I was farting thorough thin plastic without the gas or the muscle control back there.

“I’m about to put all these babies in your belly, you hear?” He warned gently, contrary to his otherwise diligent fucking.

Daddy Mack grunted up a storm, pounding me harder and faster, making sure I felt every stroke. And even though he had worked me loose long before then, somehow or another, my hole quickly tightened up around his swollen dick just so it pulsed around my wet wall ready to spew it junk.

“Oh, gotdammit, motherfucker!” Daddy Mack barked.

His gnarled face twitched something monstrous about me as this warm almost sickly sensation spread within my well-used hole and throughout my intestines. 

Daddy Mack collapsed on top of me, kissing me on my neck erratically along with kicking out the rest of his lingering load with these sporadic thrusts back into my hole before he simply stopped.

He laid on me for about ten minutes. I thought he was about halfway sleep when he found this new burst of energy to lift himself up off me. He immediately told me to put on my clothes. I didn’t know what to say or think as I did so, looking for him to say something, but he never did. He just opened up the front door for me to walk out of, and silently told me to get into his Cadillac where he drove me back over to my house. I tried thanking him for the lift as I got out of his car, but the only thing he did was grunt.

I went about my way. He went about his.

I was so put off with Daddy Mack and Chachi that I did my best in trying to avoid them. It worked well for awhile. The more I saw them the angrier I got. The way I let them use me and throw me away like that. I hated both of them every time I jacked off, thinking about either of them inside of me like that.

Upon graduation from vocational school, I turned my back on Cleveland just like Daddy Mack and Chachi did me and moved on down to Columbus.