Date: Mon, 29 Mar 2010 02:27:32 -0400
From: Evan Williams <classic14rider@gmail.com>
Subject: Hip Hop Hoes Part 13

The following story is a work of erotic fiction. It is for entertainment
purposes only. It is not intended for minors. It includes teenagers and
racially offensive language. Anyone who might be offended by this type of
story, or unduly influenced by it, should find something else to read.

**********************************

The white boy and the black boy; both had secrets that they kept from one
another. Both dropped hints of their secrets, hoping they would be fully
disclosed so that they could be freed from the chains that bound them. The
white boy's name was Timothy; the black boy's name was Lamont. This is
their story:

Lamont sat in his bedroom, thinking about the way that teenage white boys
seemed to have an angelic quality. Their smooth white skin connoted
"purity" in his mind. He even found the variation of skin tone on their
white bodies beautiful, like the contrast between the boy's throbbing red
cock, as it was being trust inside Lamont's mouth, and the pale whiteness
of the boy's hairless chest that rose and fell with increased rapidity as
the boy was nearing orgasm.

White boys were, to Lamont, noble young squires -- right out of the pages
of a medieval fairy tale about heroism, rationality, courage and chivalry.
Their curly golden locks fell over their foreheads and their rosy cheeks
and red lips were full of innocence and life. He longed to have them lie on
top of him and pump their angelic seed inside of his black body.

Lamont had read books about American slavery. He know that black boys held
captive as slaves enjoyed nothing greater than being "forced," by their
teenaged white masters, to suck on their horny plantation cocks and swallow
their cum. To have the young master's seed slide down the black boy's
throat made the young black boy feel as though he was closer to his master,
as if the very substance of his master's body had now become part of
him. He was no longer an ordinary black slave; unlike the other "niggers"
he now carried the master inside of him.

As Lamont became older the white boys he was involved with would test him,
and he tested them in return. White boys, like his friend Timothy, started
out by admiring Lamont's "big black cock," stroking it slowly and watching
his facial expression as Timothy took control over Lamont's black
body. Lamont's testicles churned as Timothy continued to stroke his
throbbing black member until the black boy shot ropes of thick white cum
all over his dark body. Timothy sat back and admired the contrast and his
conquest of the black boy's body.

Once Timothy had established that Lamont could trust him, because, after
all, Timothy was willing to "submit" to servicing Lamont's black cock by
stroking it for him, he found that he was free to push things with Lamont a
little further. He gradually reeled Lamont in by moving to the next stage
of his carefully planned seduction.

"Wouldn't you like to have a nice firm body like mine lying on top of you?"
Timothy asked, rather innocently one day while he was stroking the black
boy's cock. Of course Lamont would love to have Timothy's firm white body
lying on top of him. What self-respecting black boy doesn't want his body
to be covered by a European knight or squire?

Gradually the two boys' roles were reversed. Timothy no longer stroked and
adored the black boy's cock; now it was Timothy whose body was being
admired. Sometimes he would hunch up on his knees and thrust his throbbing
red cock between Lamont's lips and force it down the black boy's throat.

It was a fair enough exchange. Timothy, after all, had patiently stroked
Lamont's cock to bring the black boy to orgasm, and now it was only fair
for Lamont to return the favor by stroking Timothy's cock -- with the use
of Lamont's thick black lips.

But oh, what an exchange! The white boy's soft hands may have felt great as
it stroked the length of Lamont's velvety dark shaft, but that was nothing
compared with the feeling of Lamont's thick, warm, moist "nigger" lips
sliding up and down the shaft of Timothy's hard white cock. Timothy grabbed
the black boy's head and made Lamont suck him harder and harder.

After he had gotten Lamont to service him for a while, Timothy lie on top
of the boy and thrust his throbbing cock between the black boy's legs,
fucking him like he was Timothy's girlfriend. The darker boy's thighs felt
warm, soft and smooth. Timothy lost himself in the pleasure of dominating
his dark skinned partner with Timothy's throbbing hard manhood. Lamont was
hard too, gradually growing accustomed to being positioned as the white
boy's bottom -- he was getting used to his newly acquired submissive
role.

Timothy pushed things a little further. "You like that? Huh, boy? You like
how my cock feels between your thighs?" Lamont, succumbing to the moment,
allowed himself to gasp "Oh, Yesssum. Yesssum, I likes how that feels." Of
course, this is not really the way Lamont normally spoke. It was the heat
and passion of the moment that allowed him to talk this way -- the desire
to associate the feeling with being raped as a slave. But he was afraid to
say this to the white boy directly.

"Oh, Yesssum, yesssum," and the black boy groaned. He softly added,
"Massah," but he said that word so softly that it was barely
perceptible. If Lamont felt totally free to express himself he would gladly
add, "Fuck my nigger ass with your big white cock," but that would be
pushing things too far. That would be crossing a social taboo that might
make both young men feel uncomfortable. So he settled for uttering
"Yesssum, yesssum," over and over again, much to the amusement of his white
companion who continued his thrusts between the darker boy's legs.

Timothy was increasingly encouraged and aroused by Lamont's reactions, "You
like that big white cock between your legs? Huh, boy? You like the feel of
that big white cock?"

Lamont responded all the more emphatically, "Yesssum, yesssum, I like that
big white cock between my thighs." Both boys felt a rush of sexual
intensity from the dialogue. Timothy shoved his cock deep inside the black
boy's ass and Lamont ventured a little farther in the sex talk as both boys
approached orgasm, "Oh yeah, shoot that master seed inside my body."  These
were just the words Timothy wanted to hear. His white seed was about to
breed the black boy's body. He was civilizing Lamont by the thrusts of his
cock. It drove Timothy over the edge. He couldn't hold back any longer. He
shot wave after wave of his thick, creamy load inside of Lamont. The black
boy felt Timothy's warm sticky cum gush inside of his bowels. Lamont shot
his load all over the bed sheets. He was overcome by the thought that the
white boy had just totally conquered him.

Lamont felt as though the white boy's cum made Timothy a part of him. He
felt the warmth of Timothy's body fluids as they flowed through Lamont's
own dark body. The blond haired blue eyed boy was now a part of him. The
white boy's body fluids would liberate Lamont from his blackness. Both boys
felt the power of the moment, although they knew better than to actually
talk about it. Timothy loved the feeling of having just conquered a strong,
self-confident black boy's ass.

And there was much to be said for this conquest. Black boys, after all,
signified earthiness, athletic strength, soulfulness and warmth to
Timothy. Before meeting Lamont Timothy spent many hours admiring black boys
of all hues from afar. He found himself aroused by these bronze warriors,
whose loose fitting clothing seemed to barely cling to their bodies, as
they boldly and boisterously strutted and meandered down the street in wolf
packs. The boys' brown skin glowed like honey. When Timothy stood near them
he felt as though they radiated tropical warmth.

Timothy studied the black boys' firm brown arms, made strong by workouts
and manual labor. He wanted those bronze arms to be wrapped around his
body, pulling him into the black boy's earthiness and his soulful rhythms.
He wanted to take the golden warriors' semen inside of him, emboldening him
-- giving him their strength. He wanted these strong, soulful black boys
to be devoted to him so that he could rely on them for safety and
protection.

He loved the trust in a black boy's eyes when Timothy stroked his thick,
dark cock, making the boy surrender his body. The black boy opened up and
surrendered to Timothy in a way that was only reserved for his girlfriend
during a moment of intense passion. But the Black boy knew he couldn't
trust his girlfriend as much as he could trust Timothy. The black boy knew
that when the passion subsided his girlfriend would go directly for his
wallet, whereas all Timothy wanted from him, after the sex was over, was
that the black boy would be his protection when they both went into
dangerous parts of the city.

Timothy loved the funkiness and grittiness in the way that black boys
approached sex. He enjoyed convincing two black boys to have sex while
Timothy watched, stroking his pulsating cock. The white boy was driven wild
by the sight of two sweaty, muscular black boys interlocked in passion, and
the smell that emanated from their bodies as they as they made rhythmic
fucking motions on the floor in front of him. He enjoyed capping off the
evening by shooting his thick ropes of cum across the two swarthy bodies at
his feet.

When Timothy met Lamont he longed to have the black boy shoot his cum down
his throat. He sensed that the black boy's sperm would give him strength
and vitality -- like an aphrodisiac made from tiger semen. Lamont was the
rich brown color of milk chocolate. Timothy wanted to share in all of the
exotic secrets of the black boy's body.  Often Timothy admired
lighter-skinned black boys whose golden bodies looked like they had been
gently kissed by the sun. They seemed to have absorbed the sun's
rays. Timothy believed a black boy's sperm was like seeds of healthy sun
shine, full of vitamins and earthly minerals. Black boys, he always
thought, were rich in fertility. He'd see them shamelessly grinding on
their girlfriends in public places, the muscles on their backs and their
arms flexing as they put on their public show -- slow, nasty dancing,
with or without the aid of music. He knew that black boys were exotic and
erotic creatures that just couldn't get enough of fucking -- and who had
a lot to give. When they shot cum from their thick black cocks their bodies
shook and their creamy juices flowed like molten lava from a volcano.

He wanted to swallow Lamont's fertile seed, and take it inside his ass.

The white boy was not fooled by the black boy's façade. Black boys were
legendary for their homophobia and, if "gay," for always having to be the
"top." But Timothy knew better. He could put two and two together. He knew
that very few black boys grew up with fathers in the home -- very few had
strong male role models in their lives. He knew that this often meant that
that a boy would grow up seeking the attention of other males to compensate
for what he lacked. The black boy's insatiable need for masculine attention
and approval secretly made the boy feel uncomfortable because he was afraid
this might be an indication that he was actually homosexual.

Timothy sensed this weakness in black boys. He also knew that, in the
absence of male role models, black boys were insecure about their manhood
-- they were uncertain about what it really means to be a man. These boys
would chase exaggerated Hollywood images of manhood -- and the extreme
notions of manhood projected by hip hop recording artists. It was a false
manhood. It was a kind of hyper-masculinity -- a macho image that, in the
real world, could only lead to an early death, yet most black boys
subscribed to it in order to cover up their "homosexuality."

Added to this, Timothy thought, is the masculine culture among black boys
-- a culture based on slapstick humor and mutual humiliation. Timothy
noticed that black boys' humor was largely based on humiliating one another
and seeing other people humiliated. Timothy guessed that this humiliation
cut deeper than just verbal insults; it was even deeper than taking
pleasure in watching another boy getting brutally beaten -- he noticed
when black boys watched one of their friends being humiliated they grabbed
their crotches and sported a big boner. The boys were aroused by seeing
another humiliated -- verbally, physically and sexually.

It didn't take long for Timothy to realize that this sexual arousal was not
confined to seeing another black boy -- and especially black "bitches"
-- humiliated, they were just as intensely aroused when they themselves
were the ones being humiliated. Humiliation was humiliation and black boys
couldn't get enough of it, no matter who the victim was. The erotic power
of the act itself, for the black boy, never ceased to amaze Timothy.

Suddenly it all began to make sense; no wonder these boys, who were bold
and proud in public, submitted to him so easily in private, even begging
him to abuse them and treat them like shit. If black boys were aroused by
humiliation at the hands of other black boys, how much more humiliating
-- and arousing -- must it have been for them when a white man was
humiliating them?  Even the toughest teenage street thug had a hunger for
abuse from white boys, in private, which seemed insatiable -- at least on
the "down-low."

Timothy began to see that even black boys' fashions in clothing were not
entirely innocent. They sagged their pants well below their butts in a way
that was clearly suggestive of availability. They left very little to the
imagination of curious white boys who surreptitiously inspected black boys'
asses. Their bulbous dark asses were clearly outlined in their boxer
shorts, even to the point where one could see the ghetto boy's ass
crack. Black boys bent over and offered their asses to be mounted by every
passing white boy each time they tied their Timberland boots.

But Timothy also realized that the "hardness" of black boys' persona was
not entirely affected. In a post-industrial economy, where society is
increasingly feminized and women are much more likely to secure steady
employment than men, black males -- more than most people -- are more
likely to see themselves as being social "outsiders" without a foothold in
the economy. Instead, they swagger down the streets in the bright and
colorful clothing of pirates, complete with do-rags on their heads and gold
ear rings, affecting a macho "outlaw" image that they can be proud of. They
challenge the feminization of mainstream society; but even this, Timothy
realized, makes them more inclined toward butt-fucking. After all, it is
much more manly to fuck another tough and firm-bodied man than it is to
fuck a weak and soft woman.

Timothy knew that when a black boy exaggerates his fear of homosexuality
("No homo, man, no homo") and when he exaggerates his attraction to "the
ladies" (calling them "bitches and hoes") that black boy was trying to
cover for his deep-seated fear, confusion and insecurity about not having a
father in his life, about his constant need for male-peer approval and
masculine attention, and his hidden desire to be humiliated and dominated
by another man's cock -- especially the cock of a self-confident white
man.

Timothy wasn't fooled, and it came as no surprise to him when it was
finally revealed that many black men live their lives on the "down-low." So
repressed was black American masculine culture, because of its
insecurities, and yet so powerful was black male-to-male attraction,
because of their needs that the "down-low" culture among black men became
inevitable.

Timothy realized that most black men were on the down-low, at least for
some portion of their lives. Their desire for white women only masked their
equally strong desire for white men and teenage boys. This desire for white
males was not always a desire to be on top; the black boy longed to
experience being the bottom and being totally dominated and humiliated by
white men. In the secrecy of the night, and in hidden quarters during the
day, Timothy willingly obliged this request.

He found that black boys longed to hear white men insulting them while the
man was taking the black boy's nigger ass. Timothy knew that all he had to
do was ease the boy into a "relationship" with him that would help the
black boy get used to the idea of acting on his own inner-desires, which
the black boy himself was ashamed of and didn't fully understand.

*****************************

The honey-colored black boys were like fertile sunshine, but the
darker-skinned boys -- the color of dark walnut, roasted coffee beans or
even the color of espresso -- seemed to connote the strength of the
earth; the strength of stone. Timothy wanted to be in the firm grip of
these strong, black male bodies. He couldn't erase his own thoughts of
enslaving these black male studs. These slave studs' thick black cocks
should not just be reserved for a black woman's pussy -- for breeding
-- but should be shared by the black boy's master -- white boys like
Timothy. He desperately wanted to know what it would be like to be bread by
a black slave stud's cock.

This is what set him off on his journey to conquer Lamont.