Adventures Of A White Cocksucker 2

Tunk came in my mouth after about fifteen minutes of steady sucking and deep-throating. There was still come on my lips as he zipped up his pants and grabbed my smokes from the bench along with another beer.

"We gonna do this again sometime, boyeee," he said, walking away with a smirk on his face.

The next time I ran into Tunk was a few weeks later. I was coming out of the liquor store across the street from my apartment, when Tunk came up to me for some change. He didn't recognize me at first. He was wearing a stained white sleeveless undershirt tucked into low-hanging cargo pants with a torn knee.

When I reached into my pocket for a quarter, I pulled out a twenty by mistake. Our eyes met. His face lit up with recognition and a sneaky smile.

"Yo, is that you, Joey? Wazzup, man? I been wantin' to run into you again. Man, that was some great head you gave. Hey, where you headed? Let's hang out, man."

To make a long story short, I took him back to my apartment. It was against my better judgment letting Tunk know where I stayed, but my hormones were calling the shots, and besides, with Tunk hanging around the liquor store he would see where I lived anyway and be knocking at my door in no time, so I figured what the fuck. We drank some beer

"You got any porno mags?" he inquired, in the same tone that I remembered from the night in the park. He wasn't asking if I had any porno magazines, he was telling me to fetch them at once. He added with a snicker, "I might be needing another of one yo professional blow jobs!"

I put a porno tape into the VCR and turned on the TV. Not to mention I set a stack of Hustlers & Penthouses on the coffee table. Tunk made himself at home. He complained that the beer was doing anything for him.

"You got any chronic we can smoke? What you got else to drink? You got any rum?" I obediently fixed him a Baccardi & coke, extra strong the way he wanted it, and rolled the rest of my stash into three thick joints. When he noticed I hadn't poured myself a drink, he insisted that I join him.

"Shee-itt, I ain't drinkin alone, dude. We gonna party all night long!"

His undershirt and pants, wrinkled and reeking of sweat and tobacco, were folded neatly over the back of the sofa, where he sprawled in his red and white striped boxers and dirty white athletic socks.

Over the next two hours Tunk downed several more Baccardi and cokes, and made me keep pace with him, while we chain-smoked the joints. He leafed through the porno mags, keeping one eye glued to the fuck flick playing on the TV screen.

I was starting to get pretty wasted. I could tell the liquor and pot were getting to Tunk too, making him talkative. He went on about the sex we were watching, especially Sean Michaels ploughing a white girl up the cunt or feeding her his really big cock.

"You got some cash, dude? I'm horny as hell!" he announced. "See how my man is laying that pipe?" Sean Michaels was grabbing the blonde by her tresses and savagely raping her mouth. I couldn't believe she was taking his long dick down her throat like that. He was skull-fucking her mouth like it was a pussy." "That's how I wanna pump you boyeee, just like dat! Come up wit some dead presidents, and we gonna git busy, yo!"

When I offered him a $10 bill, he said, "Naw, man, be for real. That ain't enough. This ain't no ten dollar dick. You know dat!" I ended up giving him $25. "Now we doin' business, boyeee," he said, pocketing the cash. "Now give me one of them cracker blowjobs like before."

Tunk put his hands behind his head and spread his legs as I got down on my knees between them. His nine-inch black cock stuck straight up in the air. He watched the fuck film while I went to work. His cock was so big that I didn't need to grip it between my lips. It stretched my mouth open as far as it would go. True to his word, he held my head between his hands and worked it up and down. His cock never once left my throat. After 10 minutes of pumping me hard, he bust his nut and shot a load of hot, creamy sperm straight into my esophagus.

Tunk got dressed and asked if I was going to be home later on in case he stopped by.

Around midnight my doorbell rang insistently. I crawled out of bed and answered the door in my gym trunks and undershirt. Tunk strode in without being invited. With him was another other black guy, whom he introduced as Shorty, a stocky, homely if not outright ugly black man in his early thirties. We shook hands. A strange smile flickered on Shorty's lips, but the look on Tunk's face was an unreadable mask.

"I told my man Shorty you was cool," said Tunk. "Got some rock, man. You wanna smoke dis shit wit' us? What you got to drink? Let me get one of them Newports." He helped himself to my cigarettes on the coffee table and handed one to Shorty. While I fixed rum and cokes for the three of us, Tunk got undressed. "It's hot as hell in here. You need to get some air conditioning, yo. We gonna get comfortable, okay?"

By the time I returned from the kitchen, Tunk's dirty clothes were again folded neatly over the back of the sofa where he was sitting. I could see the outline of his cock beneath his boxers. Shorty sat in the armchair across from him. "Go ahead, get comfortable, man," said Tunk to his buddy. "Joe don't mind, do you Joe."

Tunk placed a small glass pipe, wrapped around the middle with a thick rubber band, and a plastic vial of crack cocaine on the coffee table. Shorty peeled off his sweatshirt, revealing a thick chest with kinky curls of hair in the center and a ribbon of fur on his belly. He kicked off his dirty work boots and stripped down to his boxers. Shorty's body wasn't nearly as muscular as Tunk's. His midsection was flat, but no six-pack. There was a noticeable bulge beneath his boxers, but I couldn't make out the shape of his cock.

We watched a porno video while Tunk prepared his pipe and took a lungful of smoke. Shorty took a hit of it and offered it to me. I was nervous about smoking crack for the first time, but Tunk told me to try it, so I put the glass pipe between my lips while he set a small white pebble into the other hand and lit it for me with my lighter.

"Hold it by the rubber band or you gonna burn yo fingers. Pull on it slowly," he instructed. The strange, metallic-tasting smoke went into my lungs and I coughed. Tunk and Shorty laughed. "Yeah, you got it," said Shorty. "This yo first time smoking dis shit?"

I admitted it was.

"You gonna like dis shit," said Shorty.

The pipe went around again. This time I took the hit into my lungs without choking. A rush of sensation flooded my brain. My head tingled. I felt good, better than I ever felt before. We smoke some more. I was totally relaxed. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world, sitting in my living room in my gym shorts with two black men in their boxers, watching a porno movie.

Then, Tunk stood up and asked me if it was okay if he took a shower. He knew where the bathroom was so I was left in the living room with Shorty, until Tunk called to me from the bathroom.

In the bathroom I found Tunk leaning against the sink with his dick sticking straight up. "Suck my dick, yo," he whispered, as if he didn't want Shorty to hear us. I got on my knees and went to work for a few minutes until Tunk pulled his long hard dick from my mouth and pushed me away. "That's cool, for now," he said. "I just had to feel yo sweet pussy mouth again. Rock makes me horny. How you feelin, yo? It makin' you want to suck some dick, aint it."

He was right. I never felt so horny in my life. A cock never felt so good in my mouth as it did right then.

"Aiighht, now git outta here. I don't need no faggot watchin me while I take a shower. Go see what you can do for Shorty."

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written by joe7white