Date: Thu, 9 Jun 2011 23:55:20 -0400
From: Evan Williams <classic14rider@gmail.com>
Subject: Working with Black Boys 7

This is a work of erotic fiction.  It is not to be read by minors.  It may
include sexual acts between teenagers and adults and it may have some
offensive language.  If this type of erotic fiction disturbs you, or if you
find that you may be unduly influenced by it, please search for something
else to read for your personal erotic fictional entertainment. All
publishing and reproduction rights are reserved by the author of this
story.

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

This story is not necessarily about anyone below the age of 18. It is up to
the mind of the reader to fill in the details.

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

The weather was over 100 degrees -- and humid. In this college section of
the city many students lived in top floor apartments without air
conditioning. The sweltering heat drove them out of their apartments to
sleep on park benches at night, by a large fountain and wading pool.

But now it was the middle of the day. A white-haired researcher sat in the
shade of the park on the campus to get away from the heat. After an hour's
diversion of reading he headed back to his office to resume transcribing
old manuscripts.

As the researcher crossed the green lawn of the campus and saw what looked
like a lean, young brown-skinned African warrior. The boy was a college
student who was so overcome by the heat that he had his t-shirt pulled up,
over his head and behind his neck, exposing his firm, well-defined
copper-colored upper body.

The youth crossed the older man's path and the white haired man took
advantage of the opportunity to eye the black student who was glistening
with sweat. He eyed the boy's rippling abs and his well-defined biceps and
forearms -- and his dark quarter-sized nipples. The older man felt that the
younger man exuded sensuality.

He looked at the young man's face; his skin was smooth, outlined with soft
dark baby hair. The neat rows of braids across the young man's head, with
curly upward ends behind his neck made the young man look like a bronze
athlete from ancient Greece.

Finally the older man made eye contact with the boy. Slightly embarrassed,
he realized that the younger man was watching the older man watching
him. The young man looked slightly defensive and annoyed -- as if he
thought the older white man was judging him in some way, and finding him
unworthy; as if he thought the older man was thinking that the way he was
dressed, on this hot summer day, was not appropriate for a public place.

The younger man was accustomed to being observed and judged; standing
outside of buildings he was being accused of "loitering"; sitting on park
benches he was accused of being "lazy"; walking in poorly-lit neighborhoods
at night he was accused of "prowling"; running in the streets during the
day he was accused of "escaping" from a crime. And he was accustomed to
being observed and judged "indecent" for wearing his pants falling off of
the back of his ass.

But all of this was far from what was on the older man's mind. When the
older man looked at the black man's bare chest and abs all he could think
about was how the young man was a prime specimen of male sexuality. All he
could think about was how the young man must have spent the previous night,
in the sweltering heat of his apartment, jacking off as young men tend to
do.

The professor's eyes followed the young man and he watched him head toward
the large fountain and pool of water in the center of the park. There were
several scantily clad young white college girls lounging around the
fountain. They had their feet in the cool water as they read their
textbooks and wrote in journals.

The young man stripped off his shirt and rolled his pants legs up to his
knees. He waded into the water and showered himself under the cool flow of
water from the fountain.

This drew the older man closer. Following the example of the young man and
the girls, he took of his shoes and rolled up his pants. He allowed his
feet to dangle in the pool of water, just like the young women around him.

He watched the young black boy bathe himself in the water.

It was just like something out of an African adventure movie. It was like
watching a brown warrior emerge from under a waterfall in the middle of a
rain forest. The young man looked like an African prince, with his braided
hair and glistening muscles of his lean body.

The water streamed down the young man's back, his arms and his legs.

His pants were thoroughly soaked, exposing the outline of the young man's
thick jungle cock.

The older man watched as the cool water sparkled, captured by the gentle
hair on the young man's legs and just below his navel, leading,
suggestively, down into his trousers.

Yes, this young black male was pure sexuality and the older white man never
doubted for a moment that he was entitled to experience the closeness,
warmth, smell and sexuality of the young man's body. He was entitled to it,
whether the young man realized this or not.

The previous night, older man thought, the boy must have been awake in his
humid apartment -- like many of the other college students who paid high
rent to cheap landlords when they chose to live off-campus -- the boy was
no doubt trying to sleep, but to no avail.

He must have tossed and turned in the sweat-soaked sheets of his bed, with
his raging black hard-on.

The young man probably found his body aroused -- beyond anything he could
understand or control; his thick black cock pulsating in the heat, yet with
nothing the young man could do to relieve the tension.

In the maddening summer heat, and all the tensions building up in his young
dark body, the man had to express his sexuality some way -- he had to
expose his brown-skinned nakedness, even to total strangers on the street,
if necessary; he had to respond to his need to relieve the relentless
sexual tension that was driving the young man crazy.

He probably gripped his throbbing nigger cock, which would not let him
sleep, and stroked it until his writhing dark body, covered in sweat,
exploded into orgasm. Hopefully he would be exhausted enough to snatch a
few hours of sleep before dawn.

But this probably only made him hornier and so that he had to stroke it off
all over again, and again in a vicious cycle youthful masculine hornieness,
like a dark-skinned perpetual cum-pumping machine.

He probably stroked his uncomfortably stiff nigger cock, which still
remained hard -- throbbing -- desperately in need of attention in the heat
of the summer night. He probably stroked himself to orgasm so often that
night that his bed sheets were soaked with sweat and cum.

Still, he couldn't fall asleep.

So the young man, smelling of sweat, cum and dirty linen wandered into the
summer night for a stroll. He probably reached the gushing water fountain
at night, where other students were already gathered, softly talking,
playing guitars and sleeping on blankets on the lawn or on the benches as
lecherous homeless men lustily eyed the young female students'
scantily-clad bodies and old gay strangers quietly cruised straight
sexually-frustrated young college boys, convincing the boys to let them
give the boys blow jobs until they would cum in their old `faggot' mouths
in the dark where nobody would ever know it.

The young black man, that night, probably bathed himself in the cool water,
just as he was now doing at mid-day. At night the young man probably
aroused anyone nearby who was close enough to smell the sweat and sex on
his dark muscular body. They might find it arousing to share in his horny,
unwashed sensuality.

Now, bathing again under the fountain at mid-day, the young man became
aware that the older man was staring at him and this irritated the young
man. He didn't mind if the white girls around the fountain stared at him,
that was the attention that he wanted, but he didn't like the "vibe" he was
getting from the older white man.

Once again he felt that the man was judging him, and this heightened his
sense of insecurity about his legitimacy as a student -- even as a human
being. Either the older man thought he didn't belong there and that his
behavior was disgusting in public, or the old man was some kind of
"faggot". Either way, the young man didn't want to have anything to do with
him.

But enveloped as the young man was in the humid air of the summer
afternoon, and with his body soaked in the cool water from the fountain, he
couldn't suppress the return of his raging hard-on which kept driving him
to distraction -- demanding his attention. Even worse, his soaked under
trousers were making it impossible for him to hide his uncomfortable
condition.

Now, even in his own eyes, he was nothing more than a young, horny,
dark-skinned cum-pumping machine.

The older man watched as the young black man, increasingly uncomfortable,
rinsed off his muscles in the clear flowing water.

The older man wanted to run his hands all over the young man's body. He
wanted to buy the young man's body and take full possession of it. If the
young man's girlfriend came up he would tell her that she had to back off
-- she no longer owned the young dark-skinned man in all of his
nakedness. Now he, a middle-aged white man, had ownership of the young
man's body and there was nothing she could do about it. He would grab the
young man's cock and testicles in front of her, to show how helpless the
young man was, just to emphasize the point. He would play with the young
man's cock and get it hard, against the boy's will, while the boy's
girlfriend watched, just to show that he owned the boy and to show how
easily a young man's body can be bought if the young man is ambitious and
desperate enough to do whatever it takes to get ahead.

He would tell her that if ever she wanted to feel the young man's cock
inside of her again it would only been when he could watch their two dark
bodies fucking; it would only be for the older man's entertainment.

He would enjoy the sight of the sweaty muscular young black man humping
between the thighs of his horny young "baby's mama". He would enjoy
watching the young man's firm black ass cheeks as they flexed and relaxed
while he pumped his seed inside the girl's horny ghetto pussy.

All the time that the young man was fucking the girl, the older man would
rub his hands over the young man's back and ass; he'd shove his hand inside
the young man's ass crack, giving it a feel and probing its depths.

The older man knew that young men have needs and it is the summer heat that
brings these needs out in them. It's the heat that makes them take off
their clothes and expose their bodies as raw displays of pent-up
sensuality.

In the humidity of long summer days and enchanted summer nights young men
strip off their clothing, wanting to expose themselves; wanting other
people to share their sensual smell and taste the pungent saltiness of
their skin.

They go off into nearby bushes and pull down their trousers to pee, but
they linger after they are done -- enjoying the gentle breeze on their
smooth passionate bodies.

As he stared at the black boy in the gushing fountain the older man
wondered whether or not the young man had ever allowed himself to admit
that he too could enjoy another young man's sensuality.

Had the young man ever acknowledged accidently bumping into another
firm-bodied youth, finding himself aroused during their brief, accidental
frontal embrace?

Had he allowed himself to acknowledge that the frontal embrace of a lean,
muscular young male, like himself, is as sensual as a frontal embrace from
a firm, soft female -- they may be different types of sensuality, but both
are sensual nonetheless, each in their own way.

Any straight boy, if he is really honest with himself, would admit this,
the older man thought.

Many a young man found that it was worth it to be known as a "klutz" so
that they could experience many such "accidental" embraces -- over and over
again. It was especially worthwhile when, as often happens, the embrace was
instinctively, unintentionally reciprocated by the other young man.

The young black man became too uncomfortable under the older man's gaze. He
stepped out of the fountain and dried off his body in the sun. It didn't
take long to dry. He slipped his t-shirt and his sneakers on and he no
longer looked like an exotic young warrior or prince under a waterfall in
the midst of the African jungle.

The older man watched as the young man disappeared across the expansive
lawn of the campus. Still, there were more sweltering days and nights
ahead, and cheap landlords renting off-campus housing to college students
weren't about to shell out extra money to pay for air conditioning.

The handsome brown-skinned warrior would be back. And the older man would,
no doubt, be waiting...