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Lorenzo fucks a white boy (gay)
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
After my family moved when I was 15, I started high school in a
different place where I was pretty much alone. I had been gay in my old
school, having sex with this older guy, a friend of my Mom's, when I was in
junior high. He would pick me up where nobody could see and liked me to
suck him til he was real hard, and then have me sit on his dick as he
fucked me. He got off getting me naked and feeling me up but he never cared
if I came, and I used to have to beat off later, thinking about it. I did
make some money on the deal, though, cause he was afraid I'd tell my Mom.
But this was a rough neighborhood and I was afraid. I had started getting
off cruising guys and didn't want them to know I was gay. It was mostly a
black school. I started going out with this girl and got laid a couple of
times when I got drunk, but I was still sad and kind of lonely.
A track coach told me I should try the pole vault. The high school
didn't have a good freshman polevaulter and the coach thought I had the
shoulders and arms for it, and promised to work with me. So I joined the
track team. I still worked out with weights anyway and I was bored.
I noticed another freshman, a black dude, black as night, who would
be the last guy out of the showers and liked looking at all the guys in
the locker room dressing and undressing. I did it too, but I was a lot
cooler about it. The dude's name was Lorenzo.
I made friends with Lorenzo, and one day Lorenzo invited me over to
his house, a shitty apartment in the projects where he lived with his Mom,
who waitressed and was never home.
I have to smile as I remember about how Lo, as I called him sometimes,
sat on this seedy couch drinking cokes, and started talking about all the
great blow-jobs he'd gotten off of this eighth grader in the janitor's
closet between classes. Lo played with the coke bottle between his legs as
though it was his cock and then started rubbing his dick against his leg
as he told me his adventures in the closet and suggested to me that we
beat off. Before I could say yes or no, Lo had pulled his own dick out and
started stroking it, looking at it and at me. I waited a while to get
Lorenzo excited and then pulled my own dick out.
Lorenzo's eyes bugged out and leaning over to get a good look at my
tool said, "Man! I knew you'd have a big one, I seen it flapping in the
shower, but it's longer and thicker when it's hard! You got a black man's
dick." He looked at my dick stroking his own and said we should beat each
other off. Again he didn't wait for me but reached out and gave me a few
strokes, admiring the length of it. He went back to his own dick but it
wasn't long before he had scooted over and had my dick in his hand again.
I lay back as I felt Lo's rough, calloused hand beating me off. It felt
real good, and I had to stop Lorenzo before I came.
Lorenzo took off his t-shirt and then pushed his pants down to the
floor and lifted his long, muscled thighs and runner's calves out of them.
He sat next to me and played with both our dicks, not beating me off so
much, but feeling the length of my cock, my balls, the shaft and the head,
gently, but with hard, calloused fingers that felt real good. Before I
knew it Lorenzo leaned over and put my dick in his mouth. He mouthed my
dick a while and asked me to beat him off. I did, and slid next to him,
beating him off with Lorenzo still holding on to my stiff, long dick. I
got real hot and stood up to strip, and Lorenzo sat on the floor against
the couch, one long black leg stretched out, the other one bent at the
knee, supporting his elbow, stroking his dick with the other hand as he
watched me take my clothes off. Naked, I posed a little for him, leaning
back and showing him the full length of it, and stepping over his stretched
out leg, stood directly in front of Lorenzo. Lo reached out and took my
dick and stroked it in his fist, and sitting on his heels, put it in his
mouth and began to suck it again, feeling and pulling on my balls. When I
felt I was coming, I stepped back and sat on the couch. Lorenzo knelt
between my legs, his kinky black head over my lap, his mouth stuck on my
dick, his thick purple lips sticking out and wrapped around the long, white
shaft, as I worked the dick up and down in his mouth. When I pushed his
head away so I wouldn't come, Lo got up and leaning over, kneeling on the
couch, asked me to suck his dick, trying to put the ebony, upturned broad
bald head in my mouth, holding it in his fist, pumping it with his ass
towards my mouth. I refused and turned away.
"Hell", said Lorenzo, sitting back on his heels between my legs, his
arms resting on my thighs, my dick in his hand again, stiff and pointing
to the ceiling, "there's nothing wrong with it. When we lived in Chicago,
I used to watch my Mom do it all the time."
I laughed and reached over and rubbed his head and pulled it onto my
dick.
Lorenzo went back to sucking and stroking my dick while I slouched my
hips over the edge of the couch, my thighs wide apart and my head leaning
back, eyes closed, concentrating on the feelings on my dick. Lorenzo deep
into it, grasped the long white column and sucked and bit the swollen head
with his lips. I felt Lorenzo's fuzzy hair and was surprised to feel how
soft his hair was. I'd never been with a black dude before.
As I felt Lorenzo's ears and cheeks, I couldn't hold it any more, and
pulled Lorenzo's head back and came, shooting into Lorenzo's face. Lo kept
pumping my dick slowly, watching the white come ooze out of the red, hard
head and run slowly and dripping down the head and shaft of the dick in
his hand, and onto his fingers, collecting in the crook of his thumb and
forefinger. I lay back, eyes closed and enjoyed the relief, the feeling
of just having come. I opened my eyes and saw Lorenzo still holding my
cock, held up now only by Lo's dripping fist. I looked at Lorenzo's face,
a couple of globs of my come running in a shiny path leaving tracks down
his cheek, Lorenzo looking a little lost, embarrassed. Lo's wide,
muscular chest was tight, and I noticed that Lo's arm, his other hand was
between his own legs. I sat up and looked between his legs and saw that
Lorenzo had come too, and as he held my dick in one hand he held his own
with the other, just as wet, the come just as white on one hand as on the
other, dripping to the floor. I looked into Lorenzo's face just a couple
of inches away from my own and felt the shame and confusion in Lorenzo
that I felt, and still felt after the heat of having sex, or thinking
of having sex with another guy, had passed. At that moment I felt the
shame for both of us, the look on lorenzo's face reminding me of my
feelings after I had been used, and I hugged Lorenzo's neck with my long
arms, and whispered into Lorenzo's ear that it was all right. Lorenzo,
surprised and grateful, hugged my waist, running his sticky, wet hands up
and down my back.
We stayed that way for a while, Lorenzo's head in my arms, my hand on
the back of Lorenzo's head rubbing my cheek on the soft, nappy head.
Lorenzo kept holding me tight, rubbing his cheeks on my chest, kissing my
pecs and nipples. And I understood, though neither I or he could have said
it in that way then, that our feelings of shame had been transformed into
a powerful understanding, a bond between us.
We stayed naked after that, cleaning the come off our bodies with a
washcloth in the funky, plaster cracked projects bathroom (the shower
didn't work). Still naked, Lorenzo put some TV dinners in the old, smelly
oven and we sat together on the floor, watching Lorenzo's favorite re-runs
on the black and white TV, "Good Times" and "Star Trek". We leaned our
backs against the funky couch, different parts of our shoulders and hips
touching as we shifted positions, but always touching someplace, arms
around the other's shoulders sometimes, sometimes feeling each other with
our hands, our thighs, or arms, rubbing each other's chests or backs,
sometimes pecking at each other in short, quick kisses on the arm, or
shoulder or back, giving each other hard ons and then letting go.
Lo really wanted me to suck his dick that night but I refused. What
did happen that made Lo real happy was that, as I was checking on the TV
dinners in the oven, Lo came up behind me and took me by the hips, and
played around like he wanted to fuck me, to stick his stiff, upturned,
ebony dick into my hole. I felt the stiff dick behind me with my hand and
took Lorenzo by the the cock over to a kitchen chair and bent over it and
told Lo to go head-on. Lo couldn't believe it and I said, "go ahead" so Lo
put some cooking oil on his dick and slowly pushed it up my ass. It was
about as thick as the dude's I had been fucking at my old high school but
longer, and because of the way Lo did it, there was hardly any pain, and I
felt good that Lo was getting off on it. I could see Lorenzo's face through
the door in a bedroom dresser mirror, and watched him kissing my back and
feeling my thighs and sides, pulling on my hips, and knew that the older
guy that had introduced me to gay sex had just been using me.
We had a lot of sex that night, but what I really got off on that
night, was that it felt good to be able to do what I wanted, what I felt
like doing with another guy, looking at another guy, touching another guy,
kissing, without being worried or scared, without feeling like a fag.
Whenever we started feeling like fags, usually right after we came, we'd
hug until the bad feelings went away and Lorenzo and I would laugh.
Lorenzo and I became real tight after that, tighter than I'd ever
been with anybody, hanging around with each other all the time, friendship
bound even tighter by the knowledge of what would happen if some of the
other guys in school found out about us being queer. We figured the track
team was our protection. It would have been all over if they'd known. We
wouldn't have survived.
Later I did suck Lorenzo's dick, and swallowed his come. I liked his
hairless tight muscular body, and liked to get between his legs and make a
fist around his hard broad cock, holding it like a popscicle, biting the
upturned, purple rock of the head, sucking on it til it came, watching the
come ooze on my hand and down the curved shaft to his balls and licking it
all up, squeezing his dick and sucking on the shooting head as he twisted
and thrust his hips, his eyes closed and in exstasy. I got off on the
taste of his come.We also got into fucking each other. We used out of town
track meets to sleep all night with each other, waking up in each other's
arms and going at it again. It's not true what they say about sex and the
athelete. It used to relax us and we won a lot. We liked to make each
other hot training together, but would force themselves to work hard.
Lorenzo was a hurdler and sprinter, and made all city junior varsity that
year, and so did I.
Lorenzo really worked out hard when he was in training. He had a real
nice bod... We were both real happy together... I guess we fell in love.
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