Date: Wed, 19 Sep 2012 17:42:52 +0000
From: lokiaga@austin.rr.com
Subject: Visit to the Plantation 8

Visit to the Plantation 8
Lance Kyle

Awaking the next morning, Montford Jackson realized he had early business
at his law office.  He kissed the two black slave boys he slept with
passionately but not too quickly, as he had no time to consummate any
desire that was aroused.  Putting on his bathrobe he went downstairs to
bathe, attended by the boys who cleaned up in his bath water in their turn
afterward.  Returning to his room he shaved, also attended by the boys who
looked on with interest at this ritual they did not yet perform, and may
not yet for some years, as black boys often remain relatively smooth past
adolescence.  Jackson dressed quickly, breakfasted, and left for the
office.

The boys threw themselves into cleaning the second floor of the house,
opening rooms that had not been opened in years, airing everything out,
working only in their underwear to prevent the dust from gathering on their
clothing.  Their mother likewise worked on scrubbing the ground floor top
to bottom, and by the end of the day their efforts would pay off.

Coming down for lunch the boys bathed again, a wash of dust coming off of
their rich brown skins, then dressed for the meal.  Eating with their
mother, did they gossip about how they served their white master upstairs?
Almost certainly she knew, and perhaps did not want to know more. She
really had no more choice in the matter than did the boys, and even if she
had she may have thought it a good exchange for the relatively soft life
they were now living.  As they were finishing the lunch, orders placed
previously began coming in: clothing for mother and boys, new food
provisions, other goods ordered to make the home a more livable place after
years of Jackson's spare bachelor existence.

In the afternoon the boys tackled the garden outside, mowing the lawn,
trimming and weeding beds that had become rank, discovering spindly plants
of value and interest and clearing around them to help them grow.  This
they did, not in underwear but wearing some old trousers they had found
stored in chests of drawers upstairs, and no shirt.  As they worked they
heard a whistle.  Looking around they saw a boy of perhaps Paris's age,
sixteen, standing behind some low hedges separating their yard from the
neighbor's.  The houses and yards there were large although not palatial,
it being a neighborhood populated by the town's professional class and the
slaves who served them.

Going over to the boy they introduced themselves.  He introduced himself
only as "Biscuit," saying his real name was too formal and awkward; the
boys guessed that, as was often the case, he was named for some obscure
Greek philosopher or Roman god, and so Biscuit it was.  The boy's
appearance drew their attention; it was neither strange nor singular, but
it did set him apart from them.  Clearly, he was mulatto.  His skin was a
nice milk chocolate, his features more European than theirs.  His hair he
wore a little longer than theirs, a puff of frizz standing out from his
head maybe two inches all around, and it was an attractive medium brown
with blonde highlights throughout, some curls seeming to be a coffee/blonde
color.

The boys gave their history, and Biscuit his, and discussed their
respective masters.  All three seemed satisfied with their lot in life, and
found their tasks to be not too hard. Biscuits owners were a family with a
daughter and son. They whispered about the fates of some field slaves they
knew or had heard about, poor wretches worked to death under the hot sun in
cotton, sorghum, or cane fields.  Paris and Pompei certainly did not go
into their duties in bed, but it was clear to them that their lives could
have been much worse.  After a while, Biscuit went back to his duties and
the boys to theirs, but they were glad of the acquaintance and thought they
would be seeing more of each other.

Jackson took lunch at a tavern, and his legal work kept him occupied most
of the day.  On the way home he passed by the area of the city where the
slave dealers sold their human wares, and he stopped to witness an auction.
What a contrast between the despair shown by the slaves on the auction
block, many of them being separated from family members and home, and his
own experience in buying his three slaves and keeping them together as a
family unit.  He had kept them happy and he now had a small but dedicated
household staff.  Jackson was sure that happiness had a lot to do with how
Paris and Pompei responded in bed, also.  But looking at the auctions and
thinking about his household led him to wonder if perhaps he needed more
slaves.  He was not ready to buy any just then, but he walked home turning
these thoughts in his head.

He took a quiet dinner at home and worked by lamplight on some papers he
had brought home from the office.  He could hear the sounds of the boys and
their mother going quietly about the house, finishing their tasks.  As the
shadows deepened, he took a candlestick and made his way up to his bedroom
where the boy slaves knew to be waiting for him.

One of the pleasures of owning slaves if one is sexually interested in
their bodies, he was discovering, is that the natural shyness and reticence
one might feel about examining, studying, and touching someone else's body
was absent.  In fact, there was a special thrill in knowing that this body
before you was wholly yours, yours to command, yours to study and enjoy in
any way you like.  And so whereas he had, the last time he was in bed with
the boys, especially studied their bottoms, tonight he turned his interest
to their lips.

Jackson closed his bedroom door behind him and his willing slave boys
approached him, smiling in anticipation.  They removed his boots for him
and took his clothing from him as he removed it piece by piece.  Then he
commanded them to disrobe, and his rosie cock began springing to life as he
stood naked before them, watching their slim brown bodies emerge from their
own clothing.  Once they were all naked, he pulled the thirteen year old
Pompei to him.

Compared to the thinness of the European lips, the African varieties are
spectacular.  The lower lip is nearly always a full roll, sometimes with a
distinct ridge around it where the brown skin of the jaw meets the more
pink tinges of the actual lip.  This lower lip can be of varying thickness
but its general shape remains the same.  The only issue is, how prominent,
and how far the fullness of the lip pushes it out and down.

The upper African lip shows more variety, generally in two directions.  One
direction happens when the upper lip is wing shaped, with almost a flat
outward face.  This can be subtle, but in some cases an exceptionally full
African upper lip looks like angel's wings, pushing up in the center in the
direction of the nose.  The other variation is a roll in the African upper
lip to match the lower lip, not with the flat surface of the angel wing but
simply full and rounded, and again, this can be of varying sizes.  Asian
lips can be attractive also, and generally take a rosebud shape, but the
African lip cannot be outdone for beauty, fullness, and kissability.

Pulling the thirteen year old slave boy Pompei to him, Jackson carefully
studied the lips he had so often kissed.  They were rolled top and bottom,
and appear to have gotten ahead of the rest of him in physical development,
which is often the case in boys of this age.  When the rest of Pompei
caught up to his lips they would be more in balance, although still quite
full; now they almost seemed a little sloppy in their fullness.  His mouth
looked a little like a fleshy trumpet, and when the lips were parted a
little, as they were now when the slave boy approached his white master,
the curves downward and upward were quite pronounced.  Jackson wondered if
he could balance a pencil between the boy's upper, upward curving lip and
his broad, cute, African nose.

Jackson put his left arm around the boy, clutching his buttocks and pulled
his body in close to his own, his adult penis pressing against the smaller
but rigid cock of the thirteen year old, batting it as their bodies came
tightly together.  The boy put both his hands on his master's hips to pull
himself into the cream colored body.  With his right hand, Jackson now
gently explored the boy's lips, pulling them out and down, or up, squeezing
them gently, taking the kind of liberties with them that are not allowed if
not with a slave.  The boy's eyes crossed to follow the white man's
manipulation of his lips, but he did not refuse it.  Then Jackson put his
right hand also on the boy's buttocks and began kissing him deeply.  First
he sucked the lower lip in between his own lips, his tongue gliding over
it, down between the lip and teeth, then into the mouth to engage the slave
boy's tongue.  Then up to suck the entire upper lip in between his own,
tongue probing between the boy's upper lip and teeth.  And then pressing
his lips against both of the boy's and sliding his tongue deeply into the
boy's mouth, against the boy's tongue, and in turn sucking the boy's tongue
into his own mouth, breathing deeply of the boy's breath, tasting the
inside of his mouth.  When Jackson broke off this kiss they were both
panting, and clear drool from the rosie and from the black penis was
leaving trails against their bellies.

Now Jackson pushed Pompei away gently and called for Paris, who came
willingly to embrace his white master as his brother had done, pulling his
brown sixteen year old body into the white man.  Again Jackson gently
manipulated the sixteen year old slave boy's lips, as he had for his
brother.  He noticed with pleasure the first faint line of very small, very
thin, very black hairs forming on the boy's upper lip, a token of the
raging boy hormones with him.  Paris's lips were like Pompei's, a trumpet
forming a wide bell especially when parted, but they were more
proportionate to his older, fuller, man-boy face than was the case with
Pompei.  Jackson explored the older boy's mouth with full, intense, and
deep kissing, sucking of lips, probing of tongues, just as he had done with
Pompei.  When they finally disengaged, each panting, Jackson's abdomen was
streaked now with the clear fluid from both boy dicks, and Paris's belly
with the leakage from the white man's rod.

Jackson got to his knees and pulled Pompei over again.  Seizing the boy's
thin, thirteen year old hard cock in his hand, he said, "Boys, observe how
my European lips flatten out against Pompei's hard penis; my lips don't
have the volume to keep any kind of fullness.  Paris, bend over and look
closely."  And then he plunged the boy's hard midnight black thirteen year
old penis into his mouth, Pompei gasping and moaning with pleasure.  His
brother did indeed bend over to watch his brother's penis sliding in and
out of the white man's mouth, as his master's pink lips flattened out.
Jackson pulled his mouth off of the cock for a moment, Pompei moaning and
gasping again, and pumped it twice as he said, "Also, both of you boys,
observe what a nice contrast is made between the color of my lips and
Pompei's dark, dark chocolate cock," and then he swallowed the boy's penis
again.  Both boys looked intently, taking in everything their master bade
them to notice, and especially appreciated the contrast in colors between
master and slave, but they had not much time to do it.  As is the case with
thirteen year olds, Pompei very soon gasped, reaching out to steady himself
with a hand on his brother's shoulder, as he bucked forward once and shot
one dollop of his thirteen year old's semen into his master's mouth.  He
held that position, shuddering, as Jackson sucked the penis dry and clean
of semen all over.  He pulled his mouth off of it with a plop, and the now
wilting but still engorged penis began its slow descent downward.

Still on his knees, Jackson said, "Now Pompei, come to your knees and suck
your brother off. Both of you boys, notice how Pompei's beautiful full
African lips will flare out, sliding along the shaft of Paris's hard black
cock, but will not compress as mine did.  And notice the slight contrast
between Pompei's face color and the darker color of Paris's penis, as is
usually the case with the genitals."  Both boys nodded and Pompei instantly
obeyed, taking his brother's bigger sixteen year old cock in his mouth and
sucking and pumping it.  Encouraged by an ongoing commentary from the white
man, still on his knees, both boys took in the sight of Pompei's full lips
keeping their fullness, sliding out along the midnight black shaft as he
pumped.  Paris moaned rhythmically and put one hand on his hip, one on his
brother's cap of crinkly black hair as he rocked back and forth a little in
syncopation with his brother's head.  And then it was his turn, exclaiming
and gasping as he bucked once, held it, once more, pushing his groin
forward into his brother's face as he shuddered and gasped, dumping his
larger load of semen into his brother who sucked noisly, swallowing
regularly, to take the whole load down.

Then Jackson rose to his feet and turned toward Paris, ordering him to his
knees, putting one arm around Pompei to pull the slave boy close into him.
"Now Paris, you suck me.  Notice again, boys, how full Paris's lips will
remain, but this time notice the pleasing contrast in color between the
chocolate of his face and my blushing cock."  Still panting from his own
climax, Paris now took his master's penis into his mouth and willingly set
up a regular rhythm, his full lips enveloping the white man's hard rosie
cock, Jackson pulling Pompei in towards his own body and the thirteen year
old putting an arm around his master's hips.  Jackson timed his own gentle
pumping to the sixteen year old slave boy's sucking and pumping and after
several minutes of this, with a shout he erupted, pulling the boy's head
right up to his groin as he shot his load into Paris's mouth, the boy
choking and sputtering a little as he struggled to receive and swallow the
load.

Jackson held that position, panting, his hand on the slave boy's crisp
black hair pulling his head into him, and then released him.  He pulled
Paris to his feet and enveloped the boys into a hug with him, all three
kissing each other all the way around, their mouths and breath tasting of
semen.  Satiated, the three piled into bed, Jackson in the middle, and
drifted off to sleep.



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