The first time I tasted black cock I was eighteen, fresh out of high school, and horny enough to do anything. I was working summer help at a construction site, hauling lumber and sweeping sawdust while the real crew did the heavy lifting. Most of the guys were older, rough, and loud, but one stood out: Marcus, thirty-two, tall, dark as midnight, and built like he lifted steel beams for fun. Every time he passed me he gave this slow smirk that made my stomach twist and my dick twitch in my jeans.
One afternoon the site cleared out early because of rain. I stayed behind to lock up the trailer, thinking I was alone, when Marcus walked in dripping wet, shirt plastered to his chest. You still here, white boy? he asked, voice low and thick. I nodded, throat dry. He locked the door behind him and leaned against it, eyes dragging over me like he was deciding what to do with a toy. I seen the way you stare at my bulge. You want it, dont you?
I didnt answer with words. I dropped to my knees right there on the dirty floor. My hands shook as I reached for his belt. He didnt stop me. When I pulled his jeans down, his cock sprang out heavy, veined, already half-hard and way bigger than anything Id seen in locker rooms. Thick, dark, the head shiny and fat. I wrapped both hands around it and still had room to stroke. The smell hit memusky, clean sweat, pure manand my mouth watered.
Open up, he ordered. I did. He fed me the head first, letting me suck and lick around it like I was starving. I was. I ran my tongue under the ridge, tasting salt, feeling it swell against my lips. Marcus groaned deep in his chest and pushed deeper. I gagged but didnt pull back. I wanted every inch. My own cock was leaking in my pants, untouched, just from the taste of him.
He started fucking my mouth slow at first, hands gripping my hair, guiding me. Thats it, suck that black dick like you mean it, he growled. Spit ran down my chin onto the floor. I hollowed my cheeks, bobbing faster, taking him until my nose pressed against his trimmed pubes. My throat convulsed around the thick shaft, but I kept swallowing, eyes watering, dick throbbing. Every time he bottomed out I felt owned.
Marcus pulled out long enough to slap his wet cock across my face, leaving strings of spit and precum on my cheeks. You like being a cocksucker for black meat, huh? I nodded, voice hoarse. Yes sir. He shoved back in harder, using my mouth like a hole. His balls slapped my chin with every thrust. I reached down and squeezed my own cock through my jeans, but he kicked my hand away. You come when I say.
I lost track of time, just sucking, gagging, moaning around that massive dick. When he was close he pulled back, stroking himself fast over my open mouth. Swallow it all, white boy. The first thick rope hit my tongue, hot and bitter-salty. I kept my mouth wide, catching every spurt while he grunted and pumped. Some spilled down my chin but I licked it up, cleaning him like he wanted.
After he zipped up he left me there on the floor, hard and desperate. Same time tomorrow, he said over his shoulder. I showed up every day that summer. Sometimes he fucked my throat rough, sometimes he made me beg first. By the end of August I could take him balls-deep without choking, and Id learned exactly how he liked his balls sucked while I stroked the shaft. Interracial cock sucking became my favorite thing, and Marcus made sure this teen learned every filthy trick.
He eventually introduced me to a couple of his buddies, but that first summer was just him and me in that trailer, my knees bruised, my throat sore, my mouth always hungry for more. I never looked at white dick the same way again. Once youve had a real man stretch your lips and flood your tongue, nothing else compares.
