#black man

Beautiful Black Men FromPhilly

Michael

Joel

Elton

Lucas

She tripped as she ran up the plain concrete school steps, the top one catching her toe—sending her almost stumbling to one knee. She paused a moment delicately balanced on spiky heels, knees pressed together and noticed a fleck of concrete rubble caught in the skin. She flushed, thinking where that fleck had come from. She caught here breath and stood smoothing her tight denim mini skirt only to find the squat dean of student affairs, Helen Reyes, leaning against the door arms folded across her ample bosom, tight smile creasing her doughy cheeks.

“Another traffic jam today, Ms. Lin?”

She looked at her watch—twenty minutes late! “Sorry, Helen. I took the bus today—god, it’s so slow.”

Reyes continued her stare, her smile fixed, her eyes cold. “This is the third day in a row, Grace.”

Grace dropped her eyes. “I know. I’m so sorry- it’s been a –a – hectic week. Really sorry for this.”

Reyes nodded, pulled the heavy door to the community college open, motioning for Grace to proceed through. As Grace passed, beside her, she murmured, “Please Grace, don’t let us think you don’t like your job here.”

“Oh, no! I love my job, Helen,” Grace lightly touched the administrator on her arm. “It won’t happen again; I promise.”

Reyes glanced at her painted fingernails, then back to her eyes. Her expression revealed contempt, yes, but something else, what? Claire snatched her hand back.

“I’m glad to hear that, Claire. Have a good day.”

“You too, Helen. Thanks for understanding.” As she walked away, feeling the semen trickle out of her sticky anus, her panties forgotten by the side of the road somewhere, she thought, ‘I really do have a problem.’

Earlier this same morning, her husband had dropped her off at the bus stop. She’d decided to take the bus to work to prevent herself from any distractions on her way home.

as she boarded the bus, she thought of those distractions of finding herself cruising dangerous neighborhoods entering seedy lower-class bars ending up on bar tables getting fucked by roomfuls of black men… god, what was she thinking? She was a school counselor—an important job. She was a wife and mother! How’d it ever get this bad?

In her bag she carried her newly purchased book, “Sex Addiction: Ten steps to conquering your problem and gaining control over your life”

She felt victorious just buying the book. She’d taken her first step—she’d made her self-admission official; she had a problem. Didn’t they say that was 90% of solving the problem was facing it? Something like that.

She took a seat towards the mid-point of the bus, sat and checked her makeup in her compact mirror.

At 43 years old, she still looked good- few people would ever guess her age correctly. She’d come from Taiwan a few years earlier with her American husband. She still had smooth skin, almond eyes, long mane of lustrous black hair, As usual, she wore her typical tight top, cleavage showing her small but firm breasts, short skirt revealing her top asset- long, curvy legs. Her heels were high, skinny and strappy. She snuck a peak around the other commuters were quiet and sleepy but she caught a few admiring glances. Dampness seeped into her little white panties; she fought an urge to tough herself.

Lost in thought, she hadn’t noticed when the bus crossed into the poorer end of Passaic. She bit her lip as the bus stopped, letting a stream of black people board. Portly unattractive men and women shuffled on the bus. None held any interest, until the bus doors closed and the bus began to move. The driver stopped abruptly to let a final passenger on.

He was in his early twenties, light skin blondish dreadlocks pulled back in a thick ponytail. He looked liked a mix—black and something else. He looked pretentious—arty; then she noticed his body.

Medium height, slim, twenties but inside those jeans, she couldn’t help noticing, he had a mound of meat that she couldn’t believe.

She moaned softly, her pussy instantly soaked her rectum pulsing. “Oh god… not again.”

She stared at him covertly. He stood behind the driver, hanging onto a strap. She clasped her knees together her panties soaked as she watched his buns; tight and fit.

He turned giving her a clear look at his package—huge! He caught her eye- smiled. She looked down then up at him again. She smiled, just a bit, in return.

The bus came to a stop and the young man abruptly released the strap and headed for the door. She watched him step off the bus and onto the sidewalk. The doors closed and the bus pulled away from the curb.

“Wait!” she called out, rushing to the front.

She stepped into the morning sunshine, squinted. Where? For a panicked moment, she thought she’s lost him. Then down the sidewalk, she saw him pimp walking away, she ran as best she could barely noticed the black faces staring at her the garbage in the street the empty lots. She caught him grabbed his sleeve.

“What?” he demanded, turning towards her his face filled with violence.

She recoiled. “Sorry!”

His anger subsided into confusion. “You were on the bus?”

She nodded breathless.

“So?” he waited. “What you want?”

She struggled for words. Finally, she whispered, “You’re beautiful,”

“I’m- what? Oh!” his face broke into a mischievous grin. “You want something? No shit?”

She nodded, still breathless.

“Now?”

She nodded again.

“Where?”

“Anywhere,”

He took her arm, led her up a grimy alley. “What you want, China-girl?”

She placed a hand on his tight chest. “Everything,”

He whistled softly. “You crazy…”

Her desire threatened to overwhelm her. “I know. Please…?” She implored.

He led her up the darkened alley, tall buildings surrounding the. He went up to a door and pushed it in. the building had been some sort of commercial space- but had long been abandoned. Trash strewn concrete floors, broken glass, smell of piss. But isolated from the busy street.

“Here?” she asked.

He grinned, undoing his belt. “Hell yeah,”

She dropped to her knees, barely feeling the cold concrete floor, virtually attacking the snap of his pants. She could feel him growing swelling inside—oh god!

She yanked his zipper down, spread the fly of his pants open, then dragged them off his tight hips. There it was- massive girth already apparent through his boxers. She slowly lowered his shorts savored the moment his massive organ emerged.

It was beautiful; thick long swollen lying against massive balls. She touched his balls stroking them as her tongue glided to massive head. Quivering her tongue reached, licking his head, probing the hole at its tip.

She opened her thick lips, took the entire head into her mouth.

Taste of sweat, salt, her mouth orgasming with stimulation and satisfaction. She wanted him– all ten inches of him; get it down her throat! She gasped and swallowed, her throat penetrated by his head, his shaft nearly fully inside of her.

But she couldn’t take him all of the way. She spit him out, gasped, “Fuck my ass!”

She rummaged through her bag now sprawled on the concrete floor found a new tube of lubricant and a magnum condom.

She stood up, grabbed his face and kissed him deeply, tasting his toothpaste and tongue. “Fuck me…”

She pulled up her skirt and pulled her panties down, showed him her tight hips and shaved pussy. She turned and bent over, spreading her ass, showing him her tight little brown hole as he put the condom on.

Behind her, he rubbed his thick fingers over her tiny clit. She moaned He put his face there, his strong tongue slurping and probing her little wet holes, his tongue alternating at first but then focused on her smooth tight swelling sphincter; she dilated, her rectum pulsing with acceptance of his probing tongue. He pushed his tongue deeper into her rectum, her anal canal spasming.

“Fuck me!” she begged.

He stood, put his condomed shaft up to her hole.

“No- no condom! I want to feel you naked in my ass!”

“You sure? Alright…” He spit into his hand, rubbed it onto his thick cock.

She felt the head of his massive shaft press against her rectum. Sweat beaded across her forehead as she tried to relax her sphincter.

“Ready?”

She nodded; the pressure built –oh god!—until she thought it might never go in—when, suddenly, with a sharp moan, the head popped into her, its massive fullness trembling her knees.

“Yes, oh please deeper…” she moaned. He grabbed her hips, gently slid his massive girth up her rectum, his cock penetrating her deep into her body. She screamed as he smoothly pumped his cock in and out along the entire length of his shaft; her moans driving him faster and faster.

She orgasmed- the sweetest, most intense orgasm ever—her anal orgasms always made her crazy. Sweat poured off her onto the dusty floor; her rectum pulsed; her pussy dripping. He pumped her harder, moaning until he was slamming her up to the hilt of his shaft his huge balls slapping her vulva with every pump.

“More– more –oh yes!” This is why she lived- this is what she wanted!

With a roar and gasp, she felt his cream surge through the tube of his cock, splitting her sphincter so deep as it gushed into her naughty brown hole.

They slowly sank together knees to the grimy floor, his thick trunk still inside her anal passage, her sphincter’s spasm continuing her orgasm washing like waves of ecstasy through her bloodstream.

Kneeling, she almost passed out, then chanced to glance at her watch.

“Oh shit, I got to get to work!”

She slid off him with a pop and a gasp.

He stood up, chuckling, “You crazy,girl!” as she turned and licked his shaft, taking his sticky member deep down her throat once more, looking him deep in the eyes.

“You are so good, you deserve it…” she breathed, tasty her own musky saltiness on his thick member. She licked his cock clean, then reached into her bag for her compact. Crouched down, she flipped open the compact and placed the mirror between her legs. Her eyes growing misty, she relaxed her sphincter. Splat! His load of cum spilled out from her hole onto the mirror.

“You din’t!” he gasped.

She nodded, grinned naughtily as she raised the mirror and smeared his cum all over her face, licking the mirror clean, licking her fingers and lips.

“C'mon, let’s go. I’m late!”

She took a cab the rest of the way to the junior college she worked at. Cost her 30 bucks and she was still late—caught by Helen Reyes.

What a day!

She walked down the hallway, feeling weak. The halls of the counseling center where she worked were quiet at this time of the morning; the few students wandering the halls were interns or assistants. She glanced at a couple, smiled and wondered if they could even imagine who she really was; who she had become. Shame threatened to stop her in her tracks; she felt like announcing, “I’m an anal slut!”, then wondered if students already suspected as much. Her husband had told her that he could tell by the way a woman walked whether she took it anally or not. Could every male tell this? God, what about her career?

Finally, at the far end of the corridor, separated from the other offices by a stairwell, she found the refuge of her door; Claire Lin, MSW, licensed therapist. She took a deep breath and unlocked the door, ready to be a professional.

Her office was bigger than most, with a full-size desk and a table where she would confer with students on their future career paths and academic challenges. The office was scrupulously neat; papers filed in their appropriate places, her desk blotter empty save for her appointments for the day.

She took her new book out and began to glance through it.

To be continued…