Bullseye

“It was totally humiliating,” blubbered Stanley Blue with tears streaming down his white bearded face, slamming his bottle of beer on the bar thinking back on his experience of being the prison bitch of his cellblock.

Just by looking at the hulking hairy white monster that towered above the scene on his seated throne on the barstool, it was hard for anyone to believe that a man like him could ever be taken advantage of. He looked to be the kind that only took advantage of people, never on the other end. But he was for a number of years, most of his life. He just hid it so well behind his magnificent size when he was sober and let loose whenever he got utterly drunk and the suppressed memories came flooding back.

It wasn’t so much that he wasn’t the size that he was today as it was that he got an early start at being properly trained.

The strawberry blond was only fourteen when he met and fell in love with a black boy around his age from around the way. He was fifteen when he killed the white sheriffs deputy that was blackmailing his lover. He spent most of his sixteenth year running from the law by living off the land in the swamps. When he was seventeen, he made a fatal mistake of being seen by the authorities and was tried a few months later. Although he was a minor when he committed the crime, he was tried as an adult and sentenced to forty years in prison just in time for his eighteenth birthday.

He remembered quite well what it felt like walking down the corridor to his new home for the first time just like it was yesterday. The cold gray walls of cement and metal still haunted him along with the constant rattle of noise. Be it the men about or the old plumbing or whatever else. He thought because he killed for a black guy that the black men in prison might just take a little sympathy out on him. Unfortunately, his racist warden thought of that too, and believed he had a real opportunity to reform the young man. The warden decided to usher him into an all-white section of cellblock full of other racists and hatemongerers. The warden was sure the hardened white men would make an honest “woman” out of the beefy white boy. What the warden wasn’t expecting was for Stanley to be praised as a cop killer. The warden and the guards tried the best to destroy his badass reputation until the nephew of the slain sheriff’s deputy filled them in on the whole story. While the white men praised him for killing an officer, they could never forgive him for doing it in the name of a black man. Rape was the least of Stanley’s problems, as the gang of white men found ways of torturing teenager by beating the black love out of him and pissing on him and his snack foods and forcing him to eat the soggy mess. He spent months at the hands of these sadistic monsters. He even found himself in the hands of a few guards that thought to double-fuck him on the fly.

He found a brief moment of relief when he found Ike. Ike was a slim black man he thought about every time he got fucked. He didn’t look like much to the world, but he was just about everything to Stanley the way he took care of him like a sickly stray on his way back to health. Ike knew he could fuck him at anytime, but thought that after he got him cleaned up, he could make him his wife. That never came to pass. Ike was shanked over some old debt, and Dom (the man Ike owed money to) took Stanley into his stable and began to pimp him out to the inmates. Because Stanley felt he had survived the worst, he thought nothing of the men and the many ways he used them. He just escaped back to either his first time with a man or when it became so pleasurable to be with a man that he lost all control. Of course, whenever his warden felt he got too friendly with the blacks, he would throw Stanley in solitary confinement for the smallest of infractions. But when he arrived, Stanley soon realized he wasn’t alone as some of the hardest white men in prison was there to greet him and beat him silly for taking so much black cock. 

Stanley endured this for number of years, long after he took to muscling out his beefy frame. He thought the other men would fine him less attractive because of his robustly cut frame. He thought he could eventually become his own man and have his own bitch to bend to his every whim. As only his luck would have it, his toned body only made him more attractive, even more so as Stanley’s hair started to whiten all over his body.

It was only in the last couple of years of his thirty-seven-year sentence (three years was knocked off for good behavior) that Stanley found his peace by marrying this tatted-up older white inmate that thought the pig boy bottom was a nice little treat for his big pig man dick. He stuffed Stanley’s hole at every turn, stretching him out to unimaginable lengths and laughing to his heart’s content when his whorish wifey lent himself out to some of the other older inmates just to get another big dick in his slop bucket of a hole.

After spending nearly every day of his life getting fucked by some random dick, Stanley was stunned this wasn’t the norm on the outside. He was practically begging for it at every turn, only for guys to look at him in disgust or boldly spit in his face. He found some luck at the gay bookstores and at the truck stops utilizing their gloryholes, but once they saw him standing up most found his build a little too intimidating, constantly fearing he might be more interested in a flip-flop rather than just getting fucked. When Stanley ran into this problem one too many times, he tried to live up to what most men thought he should be. But his debut as a top ended as quick as it began as he had a hard time getting hard at the thought of not having a rigid cock aimed at pounding out his hole.

*          *          *          *          *

“Fuck you, fucker!” Stanley spat after the bouncer threw him out of the bar.

He had gotten seriously drunk and with that came the litany of flashbacks that he had of his life in prison. He was so caught up that even while he was being thrown out he took the time to grab the bouncer’s bulging crotch. He knew the young bouncer felt the electric between them and liked it. But Stanley felt once the bouncer came back to reality, all the bouncer saw was a well put together older gentleman he couldn’t fuck anyway until after his shift ended later on that morning.

Because the bartender had sense enough to take his keys, Stanley found himself wobbling towards the back alleys behind the bar and wound up standing in front of a place where men go to have sex with other men. It wasn’t a sex club per se but thought of just the same. Although it was the kind of place Stanley needed at that moment, he couldn’t go in because he didn’t have enough money on him. So he took his place next to some of the trade that also couldn’t afford to get in. Most of the time all the beautiful pieces of trade had to do was wait for a man to buy their way in, fuck with them for a little while, and then get at the many of other men that lined the place.

It came as a shock to everyone that just about every man that passed them by gave more lustful glances and stares at Stanley than at anyone else. That came as really no surprise to Stanley. Next to being the odd man out of the group of young men, he knew he often epitomized the daddy fantasy for most men.

Stanley nearly peed in his pants when this extremely handsome young black man slowed down just to look at him. Even after all these years and all those dicks, he still had a special penchant for black men, young and old. He thought he was about to faint when the same young man leaned into him and whispered in his ear.

“I’m not usually into white boys, but if I was a bottom I might let you fuck me silly. Too bad I don’t let another dude climb on my back.”

Stanley stammered trying to get the words out he wanted the young black stud on his back. Before he could form a decent sentence, the young stud was gone eager to give his dick to the first available hole.

Many of the guys standing around took special note in taking Stanley as a real threat to their business. Stanley didn’t care. What were those pipsqueaks going to do about it anyway? He may have liked dick, but he was far from being a punk, especially on the outside.

Stanley was coming into sobriety twenty minutes later, when he saw another black man pass him by. This guy was older and muscular than the other black guy, but not nearly as handsome. Though, he had to admit that both managed to carry the same sexual aura outside of their rich and dark skin color. Stanley knew if he wanted a chance with this guy that he would have to do something drastic to make him stick out, so he dropped to his bad knees and stuck his tongue through his cheek with his hands behind his back.

“You’re a pup, aincha?” The black guy laughed, rubbing his lean calloused hand through Stanley’s head.

Stanley panted, letting him know he was and that he wanted to go inside with him, if not home.

Stanley had very little time to relish in that possibility before the young black stud from earlier came bolting out of the door, looking petrified when he saw the other black man before turning red.

“Dammit, Unc,” the young black stud groaned at the older black man. “You always got to home in on my fun!”

“What are you crying about now, Bam?” The older black man asked.

 

Bam, Stanley grinned.

“You got a husband at home, two boyfriends on the side, and you got a piece in a sling waiting on you upstairs. This is the hottest place in town where a single guy like me can bust a nutt and get on with my life and you’re trying your damnedest to home in on that too!”

The older black man just looked at the angered Bam for a moment, and then said, “I ain’t going to even argue with your ass. I got to do what I got to do, just the same as you do. I know you’re tired of us crossing paths almost at every turn. But you got to accept it’s bound to go down like that in this town. You’re just coming up; I’ve been the man so long in this bitch that I wouldn’t know how to turn it off if I wanted to.”

Bam stood there for a minute, letting those words gloss over him before he looked down at Stanley still down on his knees.

“You’re playing with tops now?” Bam exhausted in disbelief.

“Who? Him? This ain’t a top, man. This is a thoroughbred bottom that wouldn’t know how to get a hard-on without something up his butt and mouth.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“How could you not?” Unc asked, extending his hand to Stanley in one of the most readable submissive positions known to man. “No self-respecting top would kneel in front of a dick unless he wanted some dick. Ain’t that right, boy?”

Stanley nodded.

“See. He even answers to ‘boy’. Like I said, I’ve been in the game too long not to know my shit. Anymore questions?”

“No, sir,” Bam answered in defeat and started to walk towards his car.

Unc bent over and cuffed Stanley’s chin and looked at him and then looked over at Bam slowly making his way to his car. Unc didn’t need to say a thing to Stanley, he knew exactly what needed to be done as he staggered to his feet and walked over to the passenger’s side of Bam’s car.   

“And what your ass want?” Bam asked Stanley after he rolled down the window.

“To go home with you, sir,” Stanley said rather bluntly and sincerely in his sweet baritone voice.

“Why?”

“To get fucked, of course,” Stanley said. “I suck cock real good. I suck toes, eat ass, and can take a nice load of cum and piss from the right guy.”

“My uncle put you to this?”

“No,” Stanley corrected. “I’m here because you made me wet when you first passed me by.”

Bam asked, “And my Uncle Sylvester?”

“Him too,” Stanley said, not telling a lie. “He has that same ‘I’m going to fuck you’ confidence that you do.”

Bam smiled and then reeled it back in.

“So, in other words, you like to fuck random black dick, huh?”

“No, sir,” Stanley said leaning in the window of the car. “I like to know the order of dick I’m taking, black or otherwise.”

Stanley said it with such sincerity it couldn’t help to milk a small laugh out of Bam.

“You’ll do just about anything for the pipe, huh?”

“Shit, yeah,” Stanley smiled.

“What if I got a small dick?”

“You don’t.” Stanley said matter-of-factly, catching a glimpse of it earlier through the sweatpants Bam had on. “I would say judging by what I saw you have an extremely fat nine and a half inches with a hammerhead glan.”

Bam laughed. “Ten.”

“Maybe nine and three-quarters, but not a centimeter more,” Stanley said exercising his dick expertise. “Well, probably a few more than your uncle back there, but he is nowhere near thick as you are down there, and that’s where it counts to a bottom like me!”

Bam could’ve argued Stanley down to simply rounding up. Instead, he invited the ex-con into his car where they took off down the road. There wasn’t much said between the two men. Stanley was too excited to get some dick to ruin it with conversation. His time in the Pen proved the sexiest and the most through of fuckers were often the biggest jackasses, and though angered and irritated by his uncle, Bam didn’t give off such a vibe.

Stanley started to reconsider his stance when Bam began to lead him down to the basement of his newly purchased, recently foreclosed home. It wasn’t so much a dungeon as it had the feel of one, as if some fucking was definitely about to commence.

Stanley stopped at the bottom of the stairwell, waiting for Bam to turn on another light to find his way through. A light came on, but not the one Stanley expected. Bam waved him over at the glow of a lighter. Stanley wanted to turn away, not knowing what lingered in the darkness. But again, he was excited about the prospect of getting some dick and felt quite comfortable when he saw that Bam was already unclothed.

“Get on your knees cocksucker.” Bam commanded.

Stanley felt a tingle dance down his spine at these words, these familiar words. It wasn’t the words he spoke as it was the way he spoke them riddled with a heavy lust that took Stanley back to a place where he felt most comfortable, more secure, which easy brought Stanley to his knees before Bam. Through the dark, just holding it in his hands, Stanley was right in his knowledge about dicks. Even so, he was still pleasantly surprised he held an uncut dick in his hand.

“Nice,” Stanley commented, tossing the weight of it around in his hand.

It had been his experience, with the major exception of Latin American men in the US, that most men born in the country after ’78 were usually circumcised. So, to have a young black buck with a nice uncut dick was music to his ears and his tongue.

“Nice would be you taking to the head, partna.” Bam said nonchalantly, grabbing the back of Stanley’s head and pressing the white bearded face against the contours of his silky black crotch hairs.

It may have been the velvety touch or the raw masculine smell, or both, that forced Stanley to have a mild lapse in judgment in having this déjà vu moment. Bam surely reminded Stanley of his very first love, but it wasn’t that. This was more mature as he was miraculously transported to the cement floor on his knees before his protector Ike Shuttlesworth.

“Yeah, put it in your mouth and take it to the head, partna.” Bam encouraged.

Stanley took his time sniffing at the fleshy dick before him, holding the sleepy monster in his hand and bringing it to his mouth where he pursed his lips to kiss at the piss slit.

Stanley wasn’t hesitant in putting the rest in his mouth. He was just slow at it, admiring the craftsmanship it had along with planning his attraction on how he planned on pleasing this young black man so.

“That’s it, baby.” Bam congratulated Stanley after some time, long after Stanley awoke the sleepy monster with lingering kisses and slow slurping. “You were born to spend your life on you knees sucking dick, huh. If I knew old dudes were where it was at I would’ve let some of them suck me off a long time ago.”

These words of encouragement only drove Stanley to suck harder for the meaty cheese underneath the extra skin, bringing his hands into the action stroking the dick before him and the hanging nutt sack below.

“You like that partna?”

“Yes, sir,” Stanley said between heaving breaths, pulling off his shirt.

“Sir? I like that shit. Keep it up, partna.” Bam said, grabbing the back of Stanley’s head again and forcing him to take the entire length down his gullet.

“Open that mouth, partna. Open that mouth for Sir, partna. Take all nine and three-quarters of that dick down your esophagus…deep throat that shit. Yeah, motherfucker, deep throat that shit!”

Bam choked Stanley with his meat, forcing him to deep throat every inch of it and forcing Stanley to fight back the urgent urge to gag on it. Although Stanley was an expert cocksucker, it had been a while since his skills had been put through this kind of test. It wasn’t the dick. He’s had bigger in the mouth, much longer and much thicker. It was just the pressure of having the side of his face grabbed and relentlessly fucked beyond his control he lost his bearings, taking him back to prison. It wasn’t Ike he saw anymore, but a sea of random crotches that only valued his mouth as their trusty fuckhole.

“Isn’t this what you wanted, partna? Big black dick on your white tongue, huh?”

Bam thrust and thrust not letting him get in a word edgewise and then popped his shiny dick out of his mouth.

“Yes, sir,” Stanley found the words to say before putting his mouth back on the black dick.

“You gonna swallow my babies, bitch, huh, partna?”

“Yes, sir,” Bam breathed between takes, skillfully sliding off his pants over his boots.

Stanley learned a long time ago from his vast experience that all men hungered for control, especially those on the other end of their dicks. More than that he understood the men that were controlling him got off on when he acted as if he couldn’t live without their influence or domination and would go to any lengths to get it. Even if Bam didn’t know this, Stanley certainly did, which was why he took advantage of this edge in sucking Bam off with the same fevered lust that Bam thought to fuck his face.

“Oh, partna,” Bam erupted, “you about to make me give you those babies.”

Stanley wasn’t in tuned to what he was saying but had a pretty good idea once he began to gain control again and began to ram his swelling dick down his throat.

“Oh no, partna, oh no,” Bam screamed securing his hand to the back of Stanley’s head, “you’re drinking all of those fucking babies. Drink up, partna. Oh, shit!”

With his head locked in place, Stanley had no choice but to settle on the dick in his mouth. He waited, but not long as Bam grunted and shot off his hot white liquid.

Stanley was no stranger in catching it in his mouth, or even swallowing it for that matter, but even the dick expert had the hardest time keeping his mouth wrapped around the rapid-fire shooter lodged in his throat. It wasn’t just one powerful shot followed by a bubbling spring of running cum, but one powerful shot after the other with last being stronger than first. Just the same Stanley guzzled down every drop. And after he was done, he took the liberty of cleaning Bam off with his tongue.

“That’s it. Clean that fucking mess up with your tongue.”

Stanley thought he had come to the end of his duties when he caught that the lighter flickered out for the last time above his head. He pulled his mouth off Bam once he felt Bam thought he had put in a job well done and gave the limping meat a couple of strokes. Stanley was resistant to get up off his knees but did so anyway only for Bam to come up behind him and put his arms around his belly.

“You thought you were going to up and leave without giving me some of that bullseye, partna?” Bam said whispering in Stanley ear.

Even though it was hard to see, Stanley cracked a huge smile forgetting the young don’t need much recovery time.

Stanley chose his steps carefully with Bam pretty much leading the way before he suddenly twisted him around. Stanley lost his balance and fell into a sling. He wasn’t sure where he was on the thing but thought better of his positing to move back on it.

As Stanley did this, Bam grabbed onto his ankles and kept him from going back even further and greeted Stanley with a lubed condom between his crack. Stanley had a number of thoughts running through his mind, but none he dared voiced aloud. He just reached over where Bam’s dick met his ass and quietly reminding him of the lack of lube he had back there. Bam agreed squirting a bottle and smearing the contents throughout his crack, finding the sweet spot he wanted to invade.

“You like that, partna?” Bam asked with the same gravel of sex he had in his voice before.

“Yes, sir,”

“Good. You still know your place as my bitch, partna. Remember that.”

Stanley could tell Bam was used to fucking, that this was his zone. Especially the way Bam teased his hole with his thumping dick. As Stanley braced himself to be invaded, he was surprised when he felt the rush of warm air blow across his hole before he felt a wet tongue drill into it. Stanley thought he was in heaven for a moment, throwing his head left and right while his toes curled against the straps holding the sling up.

“Oh, fuck!” Stanley grunted gladly. “Fuck my hole, sir. Fuck it, please!”

Bam didn’t need to be told twice. He stood up and directed his dick at the bullseye and slowly sunk it in.

Stanley startled Bam when he yelped as it went in. Stanley even startled himself the way his yap bounced off the walls. Bam wasn’t deterred by this in the least. He grabbed at Stanley’s waist steadying himself deeper and deeper into him, down to the hilt where he nuzzled his balls at the opening of his crack.

Stanley felt stuffed for the first time in a long time. He enjoyed the weight that plummeted inside of him, the pressure.

“Oh, fuck me, sir. Oh fuck!” Stanley groveled while Bam retracted, keeping just the head in and pushing it all back in.

Stanley yelped again, and Bam did it two more times—nice and slow—before Bam plopped out of his ass and shoved it back in.

“Damn!” Stanley grunted.

“Damn, what, partna?”

“Damn, sir. Damn!”

Bam fucked him to the point that Stanley was showing pain in his voice. The two knew that it wasn’t pain. It was the adjustment of his asshole getting use to the long fuck that was to come.

Each new stroke brought a raging surge to Stanley’s dick that he had to grab hold of and rub. It felt like heaven to him the way Bam became a violent machine turning his hole into mush. Once Stanley got a hold of the hungry rhythm, he soulfully threw it back on Bam giving it as good as he got.

“Damn, baby, it’s like that!” Bam grinned.

Bam took hold of Stanley’s ankles and pulled them apart even further, slamming his dick into the once tight abyss.

“Yeah, it’s definitely like that.” Bam grinned even harder against the new sounds of yelping coming from Stanley as the sound of his well-used asshole started to fart with a wet slurping sound.

“Where do you want the nutt, partna?” Bam erupted in the question sweating his heart out pounding out that sweet asshole.

“Anywhere you want to put it, sir.”

Bam pulled out, snatching the condom off his greasy dick and began to stroke harder than hard with Stanley doing the same.

“Oh, fuck, sir,” Stanley cried out shooting a load that shot straight up in the air and landed on his stomach and chest.

“Oh, goddamn, partna,” Bam cried out, spraying his load over Stanley’s crotch.

It took both a moment to come down from their high with Stanley wanting to lie in the sling while Bam was picking up Stanley’s clothes and tossing it at him. Even in the cum they made together.

Stanley understood it was what it was and got dressed. Just as they arrived at the house, they left with the same quietness hanging over their head. Stanley got out of the car in front of his apartment and handed Bam his phone number whenever he needed help getting his nutt. Stanley made it clear he wasn’t looking for forever with anybody, but the way they fucked he felt Bam could hit the bullseye any time he wanted.