Date: Sun, 28 Mar 2004 08:58:35 -0800 (PST)
From: Rio Mack <staledrama@yahoo.com>
Subject: tony and ty

You must be of legal age to read this story, which contains depictions of
male/male sex.

				Tony and Ty

	Tony Fanelli was enjoying his first semester at Westerfield
College, a small, select, liberal arts college in the Midwest, to which he
had won a scholarship to study music and dance.  What made it great for
him: excellent faculty, terrific facilitites both for music (they even had
a small studio where he had been laying down hip-hop beat tracks, his
favorite) and dance (including a small weight room for dancers only), a
nice place to live (a loft right off campus he could afford since his
scholarship paid for classes and books), and a small student body of under
three thousand, a large percentage of which included some hot-looking
studs.  Tony was very into gay sex.  He wasn't ready to call himself gay,
yet, because he still had sex occasionally with some of the women dancers
he'd meet, who were always coming on to him, and as much as he'd enjoyed it
(especially with the lithe young girls who looked so much like boys), they
never seemed to turn him on as much as a serious fucking and sucking
session with another guy.  That was the kind of ecstatic, physical passion
he enjoyed most.

	He'd felt he might be gay starting when he was about fourteen: his
incredible interest in developing his own body and his fascination for the
muscled torsos of other men and boys had started him wondering.  He'd never
tried to make a pass at anyone in his mid-teens - too chicken, maybe - but
just kept on working out and guy-watching.  By age 17, even he had to admit
he was a total hunk, as hot as any of the hottest guys in the porn he
looked at constantly on the net.  He had very sensual Mediterranean looks:
rich curly black hair, soulful eyes, a full pouty mouth, and beautifully
smooth olive-tan skin.  His body, after 3 years of constant devotion to
weight training and nutrition, not to mention seven years of dance, was
superbly ripped; his arms were thick but lithe; his lower body included
solid thighs with every muscle fulsome and visible beneath only skin and
vein, no fat; and the same was true for his very ripe, pronounced calves -
he had a strong dancer's body.  But his most jaw-dropping feature, he knew,
was the greatest set of abs he'd ever seen.  His "stuffed pasta" he called
them: lusciously thick and bulging, with deep crevasses between the
muscles.

	The year he turned 17, his mother, who was a violinist in the
symphony, sent him to stay for the summer with her brother in Rome, who was
a principal dancer with an Italian ballet company, so he could get immersed
in Italian culture.  He did -- not only in the fine arts of the Eternal
City, but in the fine arts of gay sex, as well.  It took hardly any time
for his Uncle Roberto to seduce Tony, who was only too willing to allow his
pent-up passions to flourish with his suave, sexy relative.  Tony spent the
summer learning everything about sex between men that the older European
could teach him.  Tony mostly liked to top (unlike his uncle), but
experience with a few other men in Rome, friends of his uncle or tricks he
met on the streets, taught him the pleasures of bottoming for the right
guy.  He became an artist at cocksucking, and loved to have guys eat out
the crack between his beautifully firm globes.  The sparse black hair that
grew on his balls and in his ass-crack, Tony kept shaved, as his uncle had
taught him, and the thick Italian bush around his cock was trimmed into a
thin, sexy strip right above his dick.  That dick, though only about six
and a half inches soft, was thicker than most others Tony had seen; it
curved down like a huge fist over Tony's two enormous balls.  Plus, from
his Italian genes, maybe, it was a darker, duskier shade than the rest of
his body, which Tony found very sexy.  Every guy he'd ever fucked had doted
on it.

	Although he'd seen many fine-looking men at Westerfield that fall,
his sexual activitiy had been confined to exactly 2 brief, anonymous
encounters in a men's room in the library's basement.  Those were hot and
fun, but unsatisfying.  Tony loved men, loved being with them, talking with
them, horsing around with them, eating and drinking with them, kissing with
them, touching them casually or exploring their bodies intimately, making
real love to them, talking dirty with them, waking up next to them.  His
time in Italy had spoiled him for that.  He was at the point now where he
knew he was going to have to be more aggressive.  One likely candidate was
his English professor, an older stud who Tony thought would be one hot
fuck.  The guy was thirty at most, kept himself in incredible shape, and
had shoulder-length dirty blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and a bright,
flashing smile.  It was like having class taught by a Ralph Lauren
model. The guy shot enough knowing looks at Tony to make him pleasantly
confused and encouraged.

	Even more to Tony's liking, though, was one of the other students
in that class, a black dude named Tyrell.  Tony loved blackness and black
style.  Not just the men, but the whole culture.  He had become the world's
blackest Italian guy as a result of his immersion into the hiphop scene in
his native Chicago.  He played basketball whenever he could, especially if
there was a pick-up game with a lot of black guys (his dancer's training
and natural athleticism easily allowed him to hold his own as a white guy).
Black skin was just way sexier, he thought, deeper and richer, and so many
brothers seemed maddeningly muscular.  He'd only had sex with a handful of
black guys, so he couldn't swear if their dicks were usually longer, but
that didn't matter that much to him, and anyway, judging from all the gay
porn he'd seen, no race had any monopoly on a fine slab of meat.  This
Tyrell had been driving Tony wild for the first month of class.  The dude
was tall, and from the few times Tyrell had worn a skimpy top to class, it
was obvious his body was made of that long, lean, tender meat that drove
Tony wild.  Ty's skin shade was a rich dark cocoa, and he had a thick mass
of dark hair he wore in long, nappy dreads.  Tony could spend the whole day
watching Ty's lean jaw, beautifully thick lips, or long, slender fingers.
Between Tyrell and his professor, Tony rarely left English class without a
wet spot in his pants.

* * *

	Ty Washington found college to be the most interesting challenge of
his life so far.  He flipped when he got the letter from Westerfield, which
had been his first choice, because of its strong pre-med program, and
double-flipped to hear about the full ride he was getting due to high
achievement and high need.  Growing up in Milwaukee, Ty had seen how hard
his momma had to work.  She got absolutely livid about school with her
three children.  You had to be in advanced stages of the plague before you
could get a stay-home sick day out of her.  Ty took to that ethic totally.
He was physicaly strong enough to stand up to any of the ghetto kids who
ribbed him about "poindexter" or "trying to act white."  And so he finished
up one of the top ten merit scholars in the city.  The party his mother
threw for him, the wet eyes from his aunts and grandma, the hearty laughs
and handshakes from his uncles, Ty would never forget.  His mother had the
news story about the state's top students framed and put right in the
center of the living room wall which had all the family pictures hung on
it.

	Ty knew that he would study hard in college, get as close to a
four-point as possible, and then all he had to do was ace the med school
boards, and his future was set.  The challenge for him at Westerfield,
then, was not so much academic, as social, and maybe - Ty was starting to
think - sexual, too: first, there was being in a mostly-white environment
for the first time in his life, not having the solid home and community
support he hadn't realized he'd relied so much on.  He even missed his
pesky, bratty sister now.  Plus, Ty was going through bodily changes or
psychological changes, or something.  He had dated a lot in high school:
around-the-way girls mostly, some pretty fly and fast.  But his momma had
discouraged too much dating if it seemed to cut into school work.  He'd had
his nut busted plenty, though, but it had never seemed the be-all, end-all
that it was for most of the brothers.  And now here at school, the few
girls of color on campus were different, a little snootier, not so earthy
and appealing.

	Plus, the damnedest thing was that Ty caught himself most of the
time checking out the guys on campus.  His dorm, for example, seemed filled
with jocks.  They'd parade around the halls and bathroooms with maybe a
pair of boxers on at most.  The majority of the guys did their bathroom
routine totally nude.  Ty found his gaze lingering longer and longer, his
dick getting fuller and fuller.  He'd be drawn into the bathrooom whenever
he heard a few guys in there, just to check out the action.  Am I bi, he
wondered . . . gay?.  Being gay was just not an option on the streets back
home.  'Punk-ass faggot' was the worst insult out there, worse than
'bitch'.  Ty figured now, though, that he'd probably always liked stealing
a glance at some of the finer-looking brothers in the neighborhood, but he
thought then (when he even thought about it) that it was natural for guys
to check each other out.  Now he began to wonder if his low-level interest
in sex back home was because he was having it with the wrong gender.

	Here, it was like that germ of his interest in men was sprouting;
he didn't have the code of the streets to shame him away from even thinking
about it any more.  Because of the dearth of black male flesh on campus, he
had only Caucasian dudes to secretly ogle, and he was becoming a
connoisseur of the white brothers: he could tell the pale, almost alabaster
ones were from Northern Europe, the darker ones from Southern Europe or the
Mideast.  He could tell a California surfer-boy from a corn-feded
Midwestern farmer's son from an East Coast preppie stud.  Rather than
fighting this feeling, Ty was pleasantly, though nervously, giving in.
He'd fantasize about what sex with a guy would be like: licking a dick
didn't seem awful all of a sudden, it seemed exciting, luxurious, something
he wanted to do and wanted done to him.  He'd look at some naked white jock
standing next to him at the sink, and that dangly pink slab of meat seemed
to tease him: he wanted to reach over and stroke it longingly, look into
the dude's eyes, smile, and bend his head down; then tongue the head for a
while before he devoured the whole member.  As he watched those big hunky
guys on his dorm floor now, he could imagine lying next to one, stroking
that firm, ripe whiteness, putting his own thick lips around a
quarter-sized pink nipple, then licking lusciously up the dude's ass like
it was some girl's pussy.

	The guy who was really turning Ty's crank these days, though, was
this Italian dude in his English class, Tony.  Mo-ther-fucker, Ty thought,
now that he had began to savor male beauty unashamedly: that guy is just
about the finest stud he's ever seen.  Tony often came to class this first
warm month in just a tight sleeeveless T and some shorts.  Ty could get
lost in the guy's chest, upper arms, and those ridiculously massive calves,
achingly visible thanks to the various shorts he wore every day.  Once,
when he leaned back, the army-green cargo shorts he was wearing let Ty look
up those thick, firm thighs.  Ty just wanted to reach his hands right up
there and feel around in that ass-crack.  Plus, Tony had that rich dark
bronze skin Ty loved best on the white brothers.  It was like lightly burnt
gold, like caucasian flesh slathered in olive oil. Once he wore some silky
basketball shorts to class, and Ty swore he wasn't wearing any underwear
cause he was sure he could see the kid's dick swinging around in there when
he walked.  Ty was hard the whole class period thinking about it.  He
thought there was an outside chance the kid might be gay, since he had
heard he was a dance major, and weren't they all supposed to be gay?  But
the kid carried himself like such a raw, macho jock, Ty doubted he was
queer.

	Ty also thought there was an off-chance this dude might be into the
brothers because he acted like one of those wiggers, always talking with a
definite black style to his speech (but it was sexy, not stupid on this
kid), and he seemed to be able to quote hiphop lyrics in class any time he
wanted to make a point in class discussion.  And he definitely dressed the
part, with the backwards hats and the FUBU shirts and team jerseys, but on
him they looked good.  Hell, anything would look good on that body.  Plus
he had the sexiest diamond stud in one ear.  And he kept his dark hair
shaved right to the skull on the sides and back, then on top he had this
thick mass of oily black curls.  Too fuckin sexy, Ty thought: he'd like to
let his fingers play on top of the boy's head while he licked his long pink
tongue along one side; then he'd reach down and . . . damn! Around his
mouth Tony had shaved a very thin, sexy goatee; Ty liked to imagine those
hairs tickling his thighs as the white boy gave his balls a tongue bath.
All in all, it was like the boy wanted to look as black as he could.
Nothing wrong with bein' down, thought Ty.  Maybe it means he ain't a
racist.  Ty had even come to class a few times himself in some skimpy top,
showing off his own fine body, trying to let Tony know he was into male
flesh, but the Italian hottie didn't seem to notice. Ty figured nothing
would come of this fascination.  He could barely spit good game with the
ladies, he had no idea what to say to any brothers, white or otherwise, he
might try to get next to.  Plus, those voices from the hood still echoed in
his brain: he didn't want to make anything that remotely resemebled a pass,
and get shot down and laughed at for being a punk.  Or beat down by some
homophobic white muscleboy.  Oh well, just lookin' was OK for now.

* * *

	Tony started going to his classes on a mission now, ready to try to
smoothly get some guy into bed.  That day in English class, his prime
fantasy came in wearing a cool short-sleeeved button-down that he kept all
the way unbottoned.  Tony made sure he sat right next to him so he could
cooly check out that gorgeous chest and lean rippled abs whenever he
wanted.  After class, he figured what the hell and decided to go for it.

	"Hey, great comment you gave in class today, man.  That girl was
going on and on, and you just put it so beautifully."

	"Thanks, man.  I hope I wasn't too harsh."

	"No way, you just dropped science on her with a kind of cool
authority.  Hey, my name's Tony, by the way."  Tony offered his hand and
the black youth took it warmly, firmly.

	"I know.  And I'm Ty.  So how you like this class?"

	"Oh, I love it.  The discussions are always deep, and it never
hurts to have a prof who's a total stud, right?"

	Ty was unprepared for that last comment.  What the fuck was that
supposed to mean?  Is this kid really gay?

	"You must like hip-hop," Ty changed the subject, "you're always
working rhymes in when you answer."

	"Aw man, that's my life.  I'm from Chicago.  There's a pretty dope
scene there.  I did a little DJ'ing for this crew back home, nothing major.
But here at school I'm laying down a lot of tracks that I'm using for
performances.  I'm a dance major, and I weave in a lot of club moves and
beats.  I got some really sick shit I've done."

	"Sounds hip.  I'd like to hear it some time."
	"For real?  Cause if you're not doing anything, I've got the dance
studio reserved this next hour.  I'm doing a final run-through of my
midterm project, this solo performance I did the music for.  You might dig
it.  Seriously.  I'd love to get someone's feedback."

	"Cool with me.  I got no classes the rest of the day.  Let's check
it out."  Ty's heart started beating way fast.

	"All right!"  Tony was totally amped up, but he told himself to
stay cool, his could probably come to nothing, this guy's certainly as
straight as they come.  But it was just cool being thrown together with his
fantasy-man like this.

	The door at the other end of the studio opened, and Ty was startled
to see Tony emerge, dressed in a tight white leotard that started about 3
inches below his belly button and ended right below his knee.  He was
wearing some thin, low-cut jock strap underneath - Ty could see the straps
along each side of that beautifully dimpled ass - but the jock was made of
the same sheer mesh as the leotard; it did nothing to hide the boy's dick.
The more Ty focused on it (and it was all he wanted to focus on; he felt
like some kid who'd got his hands on his first porn mag), the more he could
make out the exact contours of that beautiful Italian sausage.  Damn, Ty
thought, that is prime meat.  It wasn't so much long as it was thick and
powerful-looking.  Ty just wanted to go over and hold it tight, rub his
face back and forth over it.

	As Tony walked closer, smiling, every beautiful muscle in his upper
body rippled, but Ty only had eyes for that dick.  He couldn't take his
eyes off it, couldn't believe how apparent it was through those two layers
of sheer fabric, like they were just talcum powder dusted on.  It curved
out sexily from the lithe stud's body, sitting proudly over two huge balls,
the side bulges of which Ty could also see clearly.  He could even make out
the little bit of the tip poking out through the thick fold of the
foreskin. Damn, I'm gonna bust a nut right here, he thought, feeling his
stiff throbbing hardness.

	Tony, meanwhile, was loving it.  He could see his gorgeous black
fuck fantasy was riveted to his dick.  Whether this dude's gay or not, he's
totally into it.  After the performance, if I can't get this guy into bed,
I'm hangin' it up for sure.  Tony let Ty stare, saying nothing, just going
through his stretches, thinking about slowly stripping Ty's clothes off,
then tonguing that rich brown chest.  Tony stole a glance at the dick
tenting Ty's baggy jeans.  About 8 inches hard, Tony thought.  He hoped it
was one of those thin, dusky-purple ones that felt so good in his mouth and
then up his ass.  He could ride on one of those all night.

	"All right, I think I'm set.  Let me just get the lights
programmed, start the music and take off these warm-up pants."  As he
walked toward the control booth, Ty's mouth went dry and his dick, if it
was possible, got harder.  Take off the little nothing he had on already?
Oh fuck, this guy should be a stripper at some gay bar, he thought.  He
should sell tickets to this, fo sho.  Ty sat back against the wall as the
room grew dark.  A spotlight appeared in the center of the space and a very
thick techno-beat started oozing up into the room.

	Ty couldn't help but voice a moan as Tony appeared under the
spotlight.  He was doing a slow, muscular grind in just that thin mesh
jock.  The material was all but invisble given the lighting.  The spotlight
made Tony's body look incredible, shadows lusciously highlighting the
musculature.  As he twisted and turned to the beat, Ty didn't know where to
focus; those curvaceous pecs; his full, ripe cock, seeming to strut and bob
around like a little dancer itself; those mammoth, commanding calves; the
ripped, curvy abs; or that perfect, squeezable ass.  It's totally obscene
to look that good; Ty almost felt ashamed for watching.  His heart was
racing with lust; he could feel a steady drain of precum.  He knew now he
was gay or at least bisexual cause he just had to have intense sex with
this boy.

As the dance progressed, Ty could only dream of things they would do
together: he would trace his hands all over that body, licking and sucking
as he went; he wanted to lavish deep oral love all over that gorgeous cock,
licking, sucking, tonguing, rubbing his face all over it, worshipping it;
his ass started to spasm, as if calling for that beautiful cock to be
shoved up there.  Ty realized he felt like a weak lovesick bitch, but he
loved the feeling, luxuriated in it; he wanted to be Tony's bitch, wanted
to please that beautiful white stud however he could.  But part of him,
too, felt the other way, like a black stud who had to have that golden ass,
had to fuck it harder than he'd ever fucked any pussy.  All of Ty's
repressions were burned off in the boy's jerky, muscular sex-dance.  He
found himself hooting and whooping at Tony's sexiest moves now, emboldened
by lust.  Finally, the music stopped, Tony took a bow, and Ty burst out in
applause.  He rushed to his feet and spontaneously hugged the gorgeous
dancer who had thrilled him to the core of his being.

	"Damn, dude, so you liked it, I take it?" Tony laughed, taken aback
by Ty's boyish energy.

	"Shit, man, that was the hottest dancing I ever saw.  You're
fucking awesome."  Ty hugged him again, this time letting his hands
tenatively explore shoulders and arms, the bulging broad back, but not
quite daring to drift down to the ass.

	"Thanks, man," Tony said, pulling away.  "Listen, how about I
change, and we have lunch at my place?  I've got a loft just a block away
from the dance studio.  You can settle down and get a little more critical
about my performance."

	"Cool, man.  I'd love that.  But I can't criticize anything.  I
loved watching you.  Man, I'm glad you talked to me today.  I was thinking
for the past couple weeks you seemed like a cool dude to know.  I didn't
know you were this hot fucking dancer."  Damn, Ty thought, why did he have
to say 'hot'?  Tony's gonna think he's some kind of bitch-ass queer.

	But Tony just put his arm around Ty and said, "Thanks, man.  I'm
glad I talked to you, too.  It's been harder than I thought making friends
this first month.  You were someone I definitely felt would be cool to hang
with."  He let go of Ty and walked over to the small control room.  "Let me
just get my tape and lock up the tech room.  Then you can come back to the
locker room with me while I change."  'Locker room?'  A rapid montage
passed through Ty's excited mind of Tony in a jock, naked, walking to the
shower with dick swinging, water rushing over his perfect body, hand
luxuriantly soaping cock and abs.  He thought he might cum right there.

	Ty sat on a bench in the changing room and gratefully drank in the
scene of Tony casually stripping off the mesh jock and then towelling off
his body.  It was like watching a greek statue in the art museum come to
life.  While Tony had the towel over his head, Ty felt free to stare at his
cock, marvelling at its incredible thickness, its slight curve up.  Almost
as hot were his stomach muscles; up close, Ty could see they were the most
developed he'd ever seen: most guys who had washboard abs looked like they
started from nothing and then got the six-pack, but Tony's abs looked like
he'd started from a six-pack and then built up from there, getting them
marvelously curved and rippled with grooves Ty wanted to get his tongue
lost in.  I'm really gone, Ty thought, I'm totally in lust with this dude.
He finally understood gay sex: it was total physical passion, hard and raw
like dudes liked.  He felt he had to say something, had to steer the course
of things into fucking and groping with this hot stud.

	"Damn, dude.  I gotta tell you, you have an incredible body.  I
ain't never said that to no dude before, but I ain't never seen a dude as
good-lookin' as you."

	Tony stopped towelling and stood proud and statuesque.  His thick
dick was rivetting Ty's eyes, he could see.

	"Thanks, man.  I train hard, so it's nice to think it's worth it."

	"I mean, I room on the same floor as a lot of the football team,
and they're bigger than you, sure, but you're way more defined.  You must
have like under 10 per cent body fat."

	"Three, to be exact," Tony laughed, still in no hurry to get back
to towelling.  In fact, he dropped the towel and relaxed against the wall,
crossing his beefy arms.  "But, dude, I gotta say, from seeing you in
class, you got a fine body too."  He looked down, a little embarrassed,
adding, "A great body."

	"Shit, dawg, that's nice of you to say, but my skinny-ass frame
ain't in the same league as yours."

	Tony was suddenly energized, struck with an inspiration.  He
started rummaging in his locker.  "Skinny?  Dude, you're a fucking stud.  I
bet there ain't but an inch difference between us here and there."  He
reached out a paper tape measure he kept in his locker, always fanatcially
checking to chart his development.  "Here, take your shirt off and let me
measure your chest."

	Ty was a little surprised but definitely interested.  This was
going the way he wanted.  He quickly whisked off his shirt, and Tony stood
face-to-face with Ty, their dicks just barely not touching.  He brought the
tape measure up and reached it around Ty's beautifully dark cocoa upper
body, making sure to play with those small purple nipples a bit as he
fake-fumbled with the tape.  Ty was instantly turned on.  Tony pretended he
didn't get a good measure and had to start again, brushing Ty's tits a
little harder and pushing their dicks together a little more insistently.

	"OK, 34 inches.  I bet I'm not much more than that.  Here, measure
around."

	Ty took the tape and slowly spread it around this white god's
chest, his mouth starting to involuntarily drool and his dick now hard and
leaky again in his pants.  Ty didn't even try to keep his own body away
from pressing against this hunk's ass.

	"Shit, dawg.  38.  I told you,"

	"OK, so I'm a little bigger in the chest, but I bet waist and
thighs are just about the same.  Take your pants off and let me measure."

	Ty, all hot and head-spinning now, gave an awkward laugh, "Dude, I
gotta warn you, all this close-up stuff with a good-lookin' naked stud has
me throwin' some serious wood.  I'm a little embarrassed."

	Tony just looked him dead in the eye and dropped all poses.

	"Maybe you ain't noticed how hard this Italian stallion has gotten
bein' next to such a fine-ass black stud, dawg."

	Ty looked down and sure enough Tony's cock was now fully hard,
outrageously thick and veiny, curving up, pert and blunt, in a strong, sexy
sweep, and leaking pre-cum.

	"Damn, dude," Ty murmured in a low voice, "I ain't never been this
hot for a guy in my life.  I ain't never in my life feened for dick.  But
dude, you're just too fuckin' beautiful."

	Tony reached over, grabbed Ty's dick through his baggy jeans with
one hand and pulled the black boy's head down to his face with his other.

	"Fuck, Ty, I been turned on by you since the first day of class."
They both ground their mouths together, slavering each other's tongues
madly.  Tony brought his hands together to rub Ty's ass, and Ty did the
same, letting his long finger's play in the crack between the Italian boy's
firm melons.  There were mysteries in there he had to get to know.  He
backed off the kiss to get some air.  His voice was coated with raspy lust.

"I gotta tell you, man.  I know nothing about sex with men.  All I know is
I want it real bad with you.  Worse than I ever wanted it with a girl.  And
nasty, too, real freaky and nasty and hot.  I ain't know if I'm gay or not,
but I ain't never been turned on by someone as much as I am by you."

"Fuck, bro," Tony's equally husky, lust-filled voice croaked, as he
hurriedly unzipped Ty's pants and pullled them down, anxious to gorge on
that black dick, "I don't know if I'm totally gay either, but I damn well
know you are in for the hottest fucking sex you ever had."

His head was right across from a long, thin dark ebony dick, pointy-hard
and wet.  "Aw fuck, man," he moaned as he feasted on the drippy sight of
it, "this is what I been feenin' for the past month."  While his lips went
up and down on that dusky meat, his tongue was swirling all over it.

It drove Ty wild; the black youth put his hands on Tony's head and moaned,
"Aw shit, dude, I done dreamed about doin' shit like this with you for
weeks."  Tony pulled his mouth off Ty's cock for a minute, looked up at
that lean black beauty, those beautiful thick dreads spilling down his
shoulders, those full reddish-brown lips, and that lean muscled chest, and
said, "Me too, dawg.  Me too."  He let his hands play across Ty's abs and
thighs and then settled them back into his ass while he resumed
cock-sucking.

"Aw shit," Ty said, massaging the Italian boy's head, delirious with the
joy of lust being consummated, "where the hell did you learn how to suck
cock?  This is the best head I ever got.  Aw damn, this is like real head,
not that prissy stuff bitches do.  Damn, and keep playing with my asshole.
Oh fuck, is that hot.  You got me itchin', dawg, you must know that.
Itchin' to have that fat Italian sausage of yours all up in that ass.  You
gotta fuck me, man.  Fuck me hard, man, make me your bitch."

Tony had taken his mouth off Ty's dick, but kept rubbing his face all over
it, while he lathered his fingers with spit; then he'd started slowly
probing the black boy's lean luscious ass.  Between long syrupy licks of
that black cock that drove him crazy, he started cooing,

"Fuck, dude, I'm gonna fuck you, don't worry.  This fat hunk of prime
Italian sausage will make you scream like a bitch, fo sho.  You're gonna
get so high off my love-makin, you're gonna beg for it every day."

"Aw, yeah, dawg, I be beggin for it now.  Do it, dawg.  Fuck my bitch-ass
man-pussy 'fore I go crazy.  This is fuckin' incredible, dude."

Tony had his mouth on the outside of Ty's long, slender dick and was
kissing and tonguing it all up and down the shaft, taking the head in every
so often to suck on and swirl his tongue around.  He reluctantly drew off
in order to concentrate on Ty's hole.

"Turn around, stud.  Let me at that sweet black boy-pussy."

"Oh you know it, Tony.  Damn, hurry, dawg.  I just gotta feel that fine fat
cock up there.  Freak me good, dude."

Tony put both palms on either side of Ty's rich cocoa ass.  "Oh yeah,
here's my new dawg's ass.  Mmmm, dude, you gonna love this."  He started
lapping at it, teasing Ty.

"Oh yeah, lick that pussy, baby.  Get me good and wet.  Aw shit, my dick's
harder than it's ever been.  I'm leakin' like a motherfucker.  Damn, I'm
lovin' this."

"Here comes my tongue-cock, stud.  It's just a tatse of what's to come.
Gonna open you up nice and big and juicy so you can take all this pimp-ass
fat cock."

"Aw, dawg, do it, I want it all.  Oh shit that tongue feels good up there.
Oh man, this is what sex is.  Where the fuck I been?  Oh keep that tongue
in there."  Tony's strong, experienced tongue found Ty's prostate.  "OH
SHIT, YEAHHH!  Oh yeah, dawg, that's DOIN' it!"  Ty put his hands against
the wall and ground his muscular ass into Tony's face.  They were both in
heaven, one lapping furiously, the other moaning loudly.  "Oh man, I'm
yours.  You got me.  Oh now fuck me, you fuckin' white fucker.  Fuck me
now.  That tongue's too small, I done want the dick now."

Tony stood up and reached around to grasp Ty's pecs.  He buried his face in
Ty's massive dreads, then licked at the gorgeous chocalte skin of his back.
"Oh fuck, Ty.  Aw fuck, Ty you are so fuckin' gorgeous, man.  I love sex
with you.  Now let's go, dawg.  I'm a make a man outta you now.  You bout
to taste real sex now, dude."

Tony reached down and grabbed his own cock, thick now as the top part of a
baseball bat.  The head was poking all the way out of his taut foreskin; it
was slick and slimy from the steady precum he'd been chugging out.  He got
the tip in easily and then reached around to jack Ty's dick, whispering in
his ear.  "OK, get ready.  Relax, homey, and let me show you how to get
fucked."

"Aw hurry, dawg, start pumping.  I'm no pussy, man, hurt me.  I gotta have
you fucking that ass hard, I gotta have it.  I want the hardcore shit,
dude."  Amazingly, Tony was able to slide his thick dick in further.  "Oh
God man, you are so tight, fucking perfect.  Fuck, this dick was made for
that ass."  He stated pumping back and forth; Ty's ass was tight but
well-lubed.

"Oh yeah, man.  That's what I'm talkin about.  Damn, I was born to take
that cock up my ass.  Shit feels so fine.  And keep stroking my dick.  Oh
fuck, dude, you are the hottest playa ever.  You could give all the
brothers lessons.  OH!  OH YEAH!"

Tony was in his rhythm now and was pumping away at Ty's ass, Ty meanwhile
was pushing his ass back to meet his every lunge.

"Dag, dawg, who's fucking who?"  Tony laughed, sweat now streaming down
both their bodies.  He ran his fingers through Ty's dreadlocks, and leaned
over and kissed his ear.  "Aw, this is sex, man.  This is the best.  Damn,
I never felt nothin' as good as plowin' this sexy black ass."  He reached
back down to Ty's torso and ran one hand over and over the black youth's
abs while the other jacked his cock and balls.

"God, it feels so good.  Mmmmmm. I love it when I back this ass up into
those big Italian balls of yours.  Aw fuck, Tony, You got me hooked; you
got a nigga wants you to fuck him every day.  Aw fuck, I'm gonna cum, dude,
keep pumping me."

"I'm gonna shoot, too, Ty.  Gonna . . . fill that chocolate ass . . . with
sweet Italian cream.  Uggghhhhh!!!"  Tony's fierce, sweating body collapsed
hard against Ty's back in a series of jerks as he shot spurt after spurt
into his new lover.  He made sure to hold his hand firm against Ty's
cockhead so not a drop of his cream got away.  When Tony was done he slowly
pulled his thick, semi-hard dick out of Ty's ass.

Ty turned to face him in dreamy ecstasy.  "Aw, Tony.  I never had sex until
now, man.  You're amazing.  Thank you, man."

He embraced the white youth, letting his hands play all over those firm,
sweat-slick muscles.  They kissed deep and slow, twirling tongues together
in ecstasy.  Ty loved feeling Tony's strong, ripply abs against his, loved
their slimy cocks grinding against each other.  He could feel the blood
coming back in his and could feel Tony's getting almost totally firm again,
too.  Tony pulled away from the kiss to look at his new lover.

"Oh man, that was the best fuck I ever had.  I'm your bitch, dude, your sex
slave.  I gots ta have you every day."  He reached his hand up and licked
every last drop of Ty's cum off his fingers, putting on a small sex show
with his tongue.

"Fuck, man, you got me hard again.  I ain't never been able to get this
hard this fast again."

"Mmmmmm," Tony purred, finishing off the last of Ty's cream, "I know just
what you can do with that hunk of black steel."

"What's that," Ty asked, before he grabbed Tony by the back of the head and
pulled him close to him, to linger over those beautiful lips while their
hard dicks pressed together.

"There's some hot Italian boy-pussy," he panted, as he moved up to breathe
hotly in Ty's ear, "needs a fucking as bad as you did."