Sweet Black Cock

Teddy disappeared down the stairs before I could get him to help me off my cushioned knees. Man, I cursed, scooping my baseball cap off the ground. I shouldn’t have expected anything less from the selfish dick who sprayed my mouth full with no warning whatsoever, but earnestly I did. Why wouldn’t I? Human decency dictates that much since this wasn’t an anonymous hookup. We shared a tender moment back there, like one of those chick flicks, when he grabbed my arm and begged me to stay and suck his cock—or so I thought. I guess like most disenchanted cocksuckers before me, I longed for that lone noble gesture of appreciation from cock owner to cocksucker to be much more than a fleeing theory.

As I got to my feet, I resisted the urge to roll my tongue against the slimy-coated walls of my cheeks, particularly inside the narrow sink in front of my gums, in protest of him. Everything the sorry bastard stood for! Walking away from me like he did! Like I was nothing more than an oral depository for his gunky load! Fag, I could live with. Accept. Own. That didn’t mean I was stunted only by my requirement to be filled with cock. I was more than just another mouth. Or maybe I wasn’t. My true cocksucker colors came out, so to speak, when I felt his oozing cream bubble burst onto my sated taste buds with the same incredible urgency I felt throbbing in my mouth from the cock before and eventually—eventually—I gave into my horrid thirst for cum. Gone the salty remnants from the man before, the one that initiated my taste for black cock. Now replaced with a sweet nutty flavor just left there, warm and gooey, tasting sweeter than ever.

Swabbing my mouth clean of every leached dollop, I was more than ready to call it a night. Two black cocks in one night, in less than a ninety-minute estimate, was more than enough for this white boy that waited a lifetime to satisfy this particular desire. I beamed from ear to ear.

Cecil and Teddy, I etched in my mind, my curiosity fed with pride.

Cecil or Teddy, I playfully fretted in my noggin, as if I had a choice to call either my own.

In part, I did, I reasoned like a cockstruck teenager.

Cecil passed along his number for me to make the next move, if there was any further move I wanted to make. I’ve also had Teddy’s phone number. It was just a matter of catching up with him again when he wasn’t straddled with his family obligations. What? Another six weeks from now? Should be even sooner if he thought my mouth was worth sneaking out for again?

Entertaining such notions should’ve been out of the question. Both men admitted to being involved with someone else. Off limits, I quietly said as if I was of some higher moral plane. Though, to be perfectly honest, I wasn’t seriously looking to be involved with anyone right at this moment.

If I had to choose between the two, right now, however, Cecil definitely came out on top. He was more of the gentleman, the more genuine of the two men. With Cecil, there was chemistry. There was a want before and after such a magnificent chance event. The fact that he was a black man, my lust requited, was merely the added cherry on top to the man he was. Teddy, on the other hand, was on the hunt for another white cock-slut to down his big black tubesteak. Nothing wrong with that considering that was the arrangement we made, the agreement we came to long before the execution of that night. The very one I signed up for.

I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

One guy a night was usually my limit. Two in one night, literally missing each other minutes apart, obviously tapped into some kind of newly discovered slut gene that was dormant inside of me. One perhaps I knew deep down was always buried inside my taint, my soul, desperate in its want to be tapped into and explored. At the same time, something I dared not to entertain, venture into. Tried, obviously, with my shenanigans over the years, but never succeeded. Not that I had, or rather, bordered against, I knew I was coming upon a threshold I might not ever cross back from.

I was almost sure that Cecil was well on his way to be the man to deflower my hole of its first black cock. And if he and I turned out to be nothing more than a fleeting thought, Teddy was obviously next in line to have a crack at this sweet ass, too. This wasn’t dumb or whorish on my part. It wasn’t everyday that a cock like his circled around. I was smart enough to know, however, that even before I began to toy around with idea of being with him I needed to be stretched out something more inside my budding black dildo collection. Hopefully, by then, living up to the promise of adding some of his friends into the mix, I would have several more black cocks to feast on gradually work my way up to open.

Of course, nothing like that would happen right away. I had enough restraint to wait a week or two before I gave Cecil a ring. Make sure he remembered me before putting out the invitation to have him back at my apartment. Teddy might’ve come in about a month or so after that, depending on if Cecil was a good fuck and the frequency he was able to do so, or at least an arrangement he was willing to commit to.

Reaching the bottom of the staircase, I sighed. I was slick and felt unbalanced with the lubrication implanted in my hole blended with the sweat building in and around my crack through my jeans. I didn’t set out to get fucked that night. I was more than sure it wasn’t going to happen though, but I was prepared just the same considering that the crescendo between Teddy and I had been building for quite awhile. Maybe a blowjob in and of itself might not have sufficed? Maybe if we headed down the street to my place or to his car, we might’ve gotten a bit more comfortable to do other things. I didn’t know setting out from home earlier.

My two biggest regrets for the evening were that I didn’t take care of my own needs while sucking either man off and not having my cell phone handy to call a friend or two to brag about what I just did. Not that they would believe me. I had been on the hunt for black cock for ages, and I finally luck up on two big ones minutes apart was a story meant for the pages.

We did that sometimes, me and my friends. Brag about shit, especially if we were free of the confines of a monogamous relationship. Brag about the cocks being stuffed inside of us complaining about the lingering droughts of being between quenching our cock thirsts.

As I made my way through the turnstile and down the labyrinth staircase, I thought about Patrick just then, knowing that out of all my boys, he would be the first to get where I was coming from. Patrick was an old friend that opened my eyes to the possibility with being with a black man. It wasn’t that my old friends were racists or held prejudices of any kind as it was black men rarely enter our corner of the gay universe. And where there were a couple of that stumbled into our world, in the realm of being more than just friends, either we had to endure their arrogance of wanting to be the smartest person in the room or some bitter snow queen that resented their blackness and thought we should equally hold onto that same belief by rattling off examples various, but limited examples, usually highlighted in the news. Patrick felt there had to be a median somewhere. He wrestled up a highfalutin political advisor he met through volunteering for a local campaign. It went from this man being an arrogant motherfucker to having my friend bent over the hood of his Audi to his luxury high rise where Patrick has happily resided as his kept bottom since long before I moved into this neighborhood. “Black men aren’t novelty items, Archie,” Patrick warned. “But there are many that offer a little something different than boys like us don’t often come across.”

 

Maybe I’ll find a man in James like Patrick did, I thought in the back of my mind, one that wasn’t attached and free to be with me. He didn’t have to be a rich man, of course (though I wouldn’t be mad if he was). But someone I could call my own and he felt the same way about me too.

As I reached street level, flanked between the deserted bus bay and the series of streetlamps leading over to the funky new condominiums across the way, I mentally prepared myself for the hike home in the dark several blocks away.

I’d made it all the way up to the curb, about to cross the turning lane over to the brick triangle pad to get over to the main crosswalk when a transit police car briefly stopped in front of me long enough for me to catch a glimpse of the beefy black officer behind the wheel gazing back at me, and then watch the car zoom up the street with a sharp turn back into the station just to park in the bus bay behind me.

 

What the fuck is going on?

I should’ve moved on, jaywalked, but I was drawn to the enormous speed of the officer frantically popping out of his vehicle. I tried not to look back, as I made my way over to the pad and heard the echo of his heavy footsteps trounce the staircase and quickly back down again.

The light changed, making it legal for me to cross. I refused to move from my station next to the station though. Torn between what was happening (since I thought I was the only one left inside the station) and if this officer was nearly the stud I made him out to be during our brief exchange through the window.

 

Just got finished sucking off two cocks and you’re already whoring for a third? Slut!

Within my peripheral vision, the officer became flushed with me at the curb in the middle of the station. I tried not to notice this as he slowly made his way towards me. I failed miserably at any rate looking at this gorgeous older man with the most beautiful head of salt-and-pepper hair I’d ever seen curling his thick pointer for me to cross the turning lane to meet him.

I obliged. I had nothing to hide.

If I honestly thought I was in any sort of trouble with what I did back there, I would’ve gladly skipped across the street and journeyed my way back home. His jurisdiction only extended but so far from the station, and though he looked to be in pretty decent shape, I didn’t see him being in the mood to chase after me in the dark.

“Officer.” I let my manners dictate.

The officer eyeballed me from head to toe as I took him in as well. He and I appeared to be about the same height, probably even weighed the same except where mine was more succulent in girth his was far more compacted, even the weight he carried in his bearish pot.

“You’re just leaving the station?”

“Just got off the train,” I lied to his sweet fluffy face, that in spite of its youthful appearance had to be somewhere in its mid to late fifties.

“Missed bus?”

I answered cautiously. “No sir.”

His odd question distracted me from taking in his smooth biscuit brown hue because the three buses that severed the station each pulled off in the opposite direction of where I was heading. I let the inquiry go in my head because he was more than likely focused on his job as a transit police officer than which way the buses turned on their routes.

“You see anybody up there when you got off the train?”

“No sir. But…to be honest, sir, I wasn’t really paying attention. I got distracted by the announcer announcing that the station was closed.”

“Yeah,” he scratched his back of his luscious head of hair with a puckish smile, which only caused me to chuckle at his humorous expression. “Usually, I could get away with just shutting the place down by following up with the last person to leave, but what I hear you telling me I have to search the station from top to bottom for any stragglers.”

“Sorry.” I sincerely apologized.

The officer casually wetted his lips with his wispy tongue. “Well, if you want to make it up to me you can keep me company while I do a station patrol.”

I sighed, enthralled by this third wave of chemistry. “I don’t know, man. I got a good walk ahead of me and a bed at home calling me after the night I’ve had.”

The officer chuckled politely. “Why don’t you tell me about it then? I know you’re dying to tell someone. This isn’t a huge station. After we do this quick walkthrough, I can drop you off before dropping my squad car back at the transit police station.”

Before I could refuse, he had his heavy arm draped around my shoulders as we moved back towards the staircase.

I tried not to sniff too hard at his manly scent as I concocted this cockamamie story back up to the turnstile about some crazy incident that happened at the gym some years ago. Add to that, the flirtation of an imaginary woman that caused me to leave work extremely late this evening. After I couldn’t find anything else to lie about, I asked him about his position with transit police and his need to check the station after it closed. It wasn’t like anyone could steal the tracks or anything, I reasoned. He told me he was basically there to clear out the bums. “When they know somebody isn’t going to be around for a while, they’ll hang back to claim a bench or on a corner from the wind until the trains start up again.” He graciously informed me, glazing over the train tracks. “Also, to make sure that there aren’t any other late-night activities going on, if you know what I mean. If you knew the reputation of this area from years ago, you’d understand.”

“I do.” I explained, telling him I moved into the neighborhood a couple of years before the change.

“You’re the white boy that started it all, huh?” The older officer joked.

“Apparently,” I chuckled, reaching out to shake his hand. “I’m Archie by the way.”

He extended his hand back. “Officer Parkins. But my friends call me Romy?”

“Is Romy short for anything?” I asked, not wanting to assume anything.

“Is Archie?”

I swallowed. “Yeah, but not for what you think. Instead of going the traditional route, my vet of dad and his hippy mistress thought naming me Archigrundt was a cute and unusual name to give their newborn because I came out big, pink, and grunting like a pig.”

Romy crowed. “I’m sorry, man. I’m sorry. That’s funny.”

“It’s cool!” I smiled back at his smile.

“Romy is short for Jeromy. No real story behind the name other than my mom wanted to change it up a little from my daddy’s name.”

“Jerome?”

“Yep,” Officer Parkins agreed. “Like I said not an interesting story.”

The next ten minutes we walked the station in silence with the occasional cackle erupting from the officer’s lips disarming the alarms and checking behind the emergency gates where a few seasoned homeless vets have been known to prove their ingenuity. “I’m sorry! I can’t help it!” Officer Parkins apologized after we made our back to the turnstiles. “I can’t believe anybody would use that as a basis for naming a poor kid!”

“Well, I’ve had thirty-nine years to get used to it.” I laughed off.

“Man,” Officer Romy Parkins wetted his lips once more. “You care for a cup of Joe before I take you home?”

I hesitated. I knew if I drunk some coffee I was doomed to be up until sunrise crashing heavily around noon. But I also knew with the night I had with Cecil and Teddy, and deciding between the two, I wasn’t bound to get any sleep anytime soon.

“Sure.” I agreed, following him over to this big brick bump out between a set of staircases underneath the platform.

As Officer Parkins pulled out another key from his chain to let us into the space, I checked myself in the reflective mirror that greeted us. Once inside, I was floored by how small the space really was, given that the outside gave a much bigger impression, even with its insulated brick.

“Have a seat.” Officer Parkins suggested at the lone folding chair in front of a towering set of monitors.

I took a seat, softly chuckling to myself after a quick scan of the monitor that proved that there were absolutely no cameras pointing at the section of station where Teddy and I were.

“So, this is your office?” I asked, turning my attention away from the monitors to admire his broad shoulders facing me as he faced a table supporting a small coffee pot and a few bear claws right next to it.

“I guess you can say that. I’m not in here all that often and I have to share the space with whoever is manning the station at the time, if any.”

“Doesn’t sound like a terrible gig particularly if you can keep this space from being overly crowded by officers trying to man the station, of course.”

“Not a bad bid at all. At the most, usually one or two officers are back here and even then, one or both of us are trying to hightail it out of this claustrophobic closet. As you can see, there isn’t much room to hangout much less pass gas in.”

“True.” I chuckled, accepting my cup of coffee in a small cup as he leaned back against the table.

He stared at me for a moment, looking as if he wanted to ask me something, but couldn’t find the nerve. Although I sensed there was a little chemistry between us from before, I wasn’t sure if I was reading the signals right or if I was riding high off the waves of bliss from earlier. It didn’t matter really. Even if there was something and I thought he was rather cute, I had to concede that my jaw had reached its limit for the night.

Officer Parkins began. “Let me run something by you.”

“Shoot, bub.”

“You want a little something extra to add to your coffee?” Officer Parkins asked, pulling out a flash from a corner.

“You bet!”

He pulled out a little of its contents into my steaming cup. I didn’t ask what it was as I took a sip, but guessed it was gin.

“Thanks,” I said after taking a hard swallow.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He started to scan it contents and then asked, “Mind if I show you something?”

“Sure!” I said excitedly. I wasn’t sure why exactly, but I’d already concluded that I’d be back tomorrow night around this time for another walkthrough with the officer.

He showed me his phone, and then timed out of the screen he wanted to show me before pulling it back up to show me a viral video of two men getting into a verbal altercation.

“You see that shit?”

“Yeah,” I laughed. Their exchange was hilarious.

“A few years back, before I was assigned to this station, I used to work privatized surveillance for this military manufacturer overseas. My job there was to ensure every nook and cranny of area was covered with the greatest efficiency.”

“What made you switch gears?” I asked, watching this one dude swing at the other dude only to be cold cocked with a sucker punch.

“I worked myself out of a job.”

“Sorry to hear that. This from over there?”

“Nah,” he shook his head. “Look at it a little closer.”

I did. I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary other than the action looked as if it was shot at the bottom of the staircase downstairs.

“Is this here?” I asked.

“Yep.”

I gulped spit. The clarity and angle of the video was so uncanny it looked like I was standing there watching it for myself. It was only when this was brought to my attention—the video and the station—I realized that while the camera flawlessly moved with the action, the visual itself wasn’t in the least bit shaky as if somebody was standing there holding their phone filing this.

“Transit surveillance has come a long way since those days of trying to make out those blurry images to see if anybody could identify the person or persons in the video.” I joked.

“Transit has nothing to do with it. This is my equipment.”

“Your equipment?” I tried to play off, none the wiser.

“Yeah,” he said smugly. “See, shortly after I took on this assignment there was this kid that claimed he got jumped at this station by these gang bangers but there was no video to prove it. A couple of weeks later, there was another kid that said the same thing. And within a span of three months, a total of fourteen kids stepped forward and said they got jumped too, but no video to prove it. I knew all these people couldn’t be lying, so I started my own follow-up interview with each of the victims and have the point out to me where the assaults took place. They had a nice common theme to them.”

“What was that?”

“It happened in the same place?”

“How? There are cameras everywhere.”

“You’d think that wouldn’t you?”

“There are.” I justified. “Besides, how can a gang of people get away with jumping somebody with the camera failing to catch wind of them every time?”

“Easy. The suspects were smart. They’d stagger two at a time out of the last camera frame two to ten minutes apart, that way it could appear that a train might’ve picked them up at that time. If they lured the victim over to that spot, the better, and if the train came after the assault, they could just hop on and circle back around onto the other platform.”

“What about the victim? Wouldn’t they be found stumbling back into frame?”

“Not if they got tossed onto a boarding train at the last minute or left to lick their wounds where they were left while a group of boys seem to be coming back into frame as if they’re getting off a train themselves. It’s not like these monitors are being monitored 24/7.”

“Then why are you using your stuff? Why isn’t transit police using there stuff?” I reasoned. The video wasn’t that old. Almost as if it could’ve been shot last night or something, a different time span from which he was talking about, back when the neighborhood was still rough and rugged.

“Transit could care less until something happen to those people over there in the condominiums or the refurbished houses down the street. As long as they give the perception of security, everybody is fine. If the transit authority started taking the initiative of upgrading, people are going to start asking why. And to ask why is to start to get scared something happened that they didn’t know about and for the criminal element to find a new way to circumvent a new system. Nowadays, they aren’t finding blind spots anymore as they are more into hacking into a system to do whatever the hell they want just for the fun of it.”

“Ok.” I handed his phone back.

“Besides,” he said pulling up another video and showing it to me. “There is much more of this going on than anything else.”

On the screen of his phone there I was front and center on my knees in the station blowing my second black cock like the eager cocksucker I was. I swallowed in panic and horror at the sight.

“Don’t be shy, Archigrundt.” Officer Parkins winked at my shuddering gasps to catch my breath trying to down the last of my cup of Joe. “You’re not the first kid for your friend to invite over for a good old wholesome sucky-suck up there. Over the years that bastard has brought by some dumb blondes and some sissy fags, but I don’t think I ever see one go at it quite like you.”

“I suck dick.” I conceded. Cursing myself that I had no cup of coffee left in my cup to fling in his face and flee.

“That you do well, my friend. That slurping and swallowing to the last drop—magnific!” He kissed his fingertips.

“I try.” I took the compliment. “If I wasn’t so damn tired from taking care of Teddy, I would’ve found a way to suck you off, too, tonight.”

“Me?” He licked his lips greedily.

“Yeah,” I agreed, getting up and moving towards him. “You got sort of that sweet daddy look that I find irresistible, but I was plotting how I can circle back around tomorrow night and take care of this for you.” I grabbed his bulge.

I had my hand firm on his dick through his pants. I wanted to kiss him, but enjoyed the moment we shared being so close in such a tight space.

“You got a thing for black guys, huh?”

“Let’s just say after tonight it seems I got an insatiable sweet tooth for chocolate.”

I pursed my lips, wanting to know if I could recreate a little of the magic I shared with Cecil earlier in the night, but he pushed my face away from him with such effortless force I nearly went back to the monitors before catching my balance.

“What the fuck I look like wanting to taste another man on you?”

I apologized with my eyes.

I dropped to my knees in front of him and started to undo his zipper, knowing that I needed to get out of there in a hurry, when he slapped my hand away. “I don’t want my dick on some ruined taste buds either, you thirsty cocksucker. The decent thing for you to do is to have rinse your mouth out from the last man.

I looked around the room for a sink. “Where’s the nearest bathroom then…unless I can get a rain check for tomorrow night? Like I said before, I’d be half-assing it at this point anyway.”

“I can go for a raincheck.” He said.

I rose to my feet.

“I didn’t tell you to get off your knees, white boy.”

I looked at him with confusion, slowly descending back into place solely by the tone of his voice.

“I’ll take a raincheck when it comes to getting blown off. That didn’t mean we still couldn’t put that filthy mouth to work.”

I understood what he meant when I looked down.

“What’re going to do? Blackmail me with that video?”

He laughed. “If you’re willing to suck dick in a public train station like you don’t give a damn, I’m pretty sure you got a catalog of porn somewhere. But what I can do is haul your ass into the station and have them process you for lewd acts in public places and other potential charges.”

I laughed back, hanging onto every word Teddy told me and Officer Parkins pretty much confirming with Teddy’s frequent rendezvous. “You could do your civic duty and do that, and risk me not coming back tomorrow night to take care of that for you, but then you’ll be drawing your shift out later than you need to be.”

He let out a chuckle. “Let me guess, your friend told you that around the time the station closes all the officers go home until morning, right?”

Right!

Officer Parkins continued. “That’s true for most. However, with station monitors, we have to work overnight. Not to keep the bums out, but to ensure the safety of the overnight maintenance and cleaning staff that sometimes venture from station to station, so me making an arrest this time of night might land me a position of Employee of the Month for actually doing something.”

“What lewd act?” I asked. “I’m quite sure transit doesn’t know about your little setup, and you’d half to explain why you have it on your phone.”

“Who said I was going use that as evidence?”

“Huh?”

He grabbed a remote and pointed it to a monitor he rewound back to a few minutes earlier. All the way back to when I was sated and standing out there on the curb. “As you see, all these monitors caught were me escorting you back to the station after I got a ‘call’ saying you were attacked. Afterwards, we were surveying the space for your ‘assailant.’ You followed me through the station back to this room. After we scanned some footage, I discovered you and this other young man snuck off into the blind spot I’ve been complaining about for years. Minutes later, he walks away with a shit-eating grin adjusting the old beef thermometer and you’re slowly coming out of the same cubbyhole with a line of scum crusting the corner of your mouth and the side of your neck. Then, to top it off, after you got caught, you tried to get out of your bind by grabbing my dick and offering to perform the same sexual favors on me. And while it’s true, they can’t corroborate my story without this,” he held up his phone. “But wouldn’t it be funny that this ‘anonymous’ footage showed up right in the nick of time for me to substantiate my story? After it do, you’ll be down in county jail doing a lot more in the bullpen for them boys than I’m asking you to do for me now!”