Big Black And The Shadow Cuck

Trey and I were close friends and neighbors but experienced high school on opposite sides of the spectrum. I was that timid kid gliding through the hallways in the ghostliest manner possible. As calculated as Solid Snake in order to avoid confrontation. I kept my pimply forehead down in my studies. Girls, and parties were nothing but a fantasy. For Trey girls and parties, were his salvation.

We use to spend the evenings talking about worldly concepts and laughing away the trivialities of youth. My parents did not particularly like him because of the color of his skin but they knew I was extremely fond of him and made an exception.

We talked about women. Well he spoke and I listened. He told me stories of seniors topping him off in their cars, animating the euphoria one gets when when the girl keeps sucking after a mans seed has recoiled against the back of her throat. We would talk about our personal kinks. Mine were just fantasies; he turned his into realities. White girls were his forte. He labeled himself a whooty connoisseur. He'd go for these fat-bottomed white chicks as if they'd been indebted to him. Like someone did him wrong and these white girls part of the reparations.

These white women slaved over him. One evening after school, three curvaceous, porcelain complexioned specimens arrived at my doorstep. They were wearing tight cotton crop tops, jean shorts that were two sizes below what is socially acceptable in a school setting, and white low-top chucks. Identical in style, it's as though they were Barbie dolls, fresh out the package. Their 21st century DNA was a blend of African assets and pale, Irish complexion. These were girls of the future, ahead of their time.

Once I opened the door a redheaded girl scanned me from head to toe lackadaisical chewing her gum and twirling her hair at the same time. "Is Trey around?," she blurted out. "Trey lives next door," I responded, pointing to his house. "Oh okay, thanks." She swung around, sliding 180 degrees on the balls of her feet proceeding to walk away. The troupe followed. I stood frozen as wholesome booty cheeks thrashed about, desperately trying to break free from their denim cells. Her thong even seemed to be revolting as it broke free above the waste line. My cock was getting harder with each of their steps. As soon as Trey had opened the door to let them in I ran upstairs and with closed eyes, quickly blew a load using only this previous imagery.

The following day Trey described the scene to me as we were smoking on my porch:

"Man I tell you, these girls are getting freaky every year. These catholic school

thots are brainwashed in the best way"

"By what?" I asked.

"By God, or by the priests at their school—they trot down the hallways, pussy lips sowed together while their asshole is more open than a Best Buy on Black Friday."

"Cause in the eyes of God they're still technically virgins?"

"Exactly, one even got upset when I darted my tongue into it. And yet they swallowed my cock whole, making it disappear like a magic trick—Three heads in a triangle formation slobbered on my cock. Stalagmites of drool were hanging from my dick."

"Bro, you must be the only one in school to pull some shit like that," I said laughing.

"At one point I lined these asses up like drum set, face down, dicking down each ass and slapping the unplugged two like bongos."

"Trey you're a legend."

"Nah man, I can't be the only one hitting these chicks. When I told them I was about to bust, they jumped out of doggie, got on their knees and opened their mouths. I sprayed all over their faces going back and forth like a sprinkler."

"Maybe they've been taking notes from porn."

"These girls are born nympho's, cock is just a commodity to them. If they want it, they'll just go out and get it."

I sat back and took a large drag of our joint. I seeped into the chair dreaming about Trey's reality. "College next fall will be my time to score," I thought to myself.

We hear a car skirt around the corner. The sound of gunshots ring through the air. "Trey!," someone shrieks. He proceeds to dart out of his seat now sprinting towards his house. I was only half-conscious still attempting to live vicariously through Trey.

Once I snapped out of my daydream I followed him into his front yard. His brother was sitting against a tree, gun in hand, panting like a dog. A bullet had grazed his leg. Blood was dripping from the torn part of his jeans but he was going to be ok. However after this event Trey was not.

He became noticeably more aggressive after this instance. Even to myself, his most timid friend. It became apparent when I brought up topics of career, and money. At the time I don't think Trey saw a way out of this mess we lived in. Like a hammer I relentlessly beat him over the head with: "School is your golden ticket." Or "A diploma opens up doors." But he always fired back with: "That shits too slow—I can't afford to be broke another four more years."

He succumbed to this mentality so much that cutting classes and hanging out with his brother turned to an everyday thing. The money that came with gang activities such as selling drugs sparked his interest a while ago but the revenge for attempted murder is what ignited this lifestyle shift.

The girls did not stop however, If anything his new occupation appealed to them, he was a bad-boy now. When his mother was at work, girls would follow him home as if in a procession.

One time I had caught the flu and became prisoner to my home for a week during senior year. I was sleeping in my bed. What awoke me were deep moans floating somewhere between pain and ecstasy. At first I was worried. I sprang up out of bed and rushed to my drawer. As I fumbled around for my knife I heard an aggressive slap and a high shriek. For I had thought my mother was home and a burglar was beating her down. When I stuck my head out into the stairwell what I saw was a golden-haired white dame riding a dark melanin-rich stallion. Trey laid out across the couch, one of his hands wrapped around her throat, the other at the ready, eagerly waiting to strike that fit, peach-like booty. I stood, only my head penetrated the daylight, illuminated as I gaped in awe. She coughed under his grip and Trey's strong hands made their course to her thin waist. He could've crushed her like a juice-box if he desired. His left and right hands almost met at the fingertips, being separated only by shallow strip of skin around her belly button. Still bouncing, now assisted by Trey's efforts, she moaned:

"Yes baby! Stuff Big Black deep inside me" (I later, from a friend, found out that Big Black was the nickname Trey's penis received from girls in school.)

Trey didn't respond. He was too focused on slamming her down against his pelvis. She then rapidly dismounted, with the spring of a gymnast, and taking his cock, started slapping her pussy with it. Pussy juice shot out on his dick, even partially soaking the couch. As this was happening, in a high pitched voice, she squealed:

"Yes baby! Yes! [her pussy now shaking] I'm cumming daddy! I'm cumming"

Responding to her inherent naughtiness; "God damn," he said in a surprised voice. The pussy slapping continued; for her juices kept raining out. Suddenly Treys semen blasted out, becoming watered down as it mixed with her squirt. She rapidly recoiled a bit, still keeping a firm grip on his cock, some of the thick white semen running down her hands. Despite her efforts a fair share of it had got on her glistening wet pussy. "It's ok, I'm on birth control," she said as her hand went down to scoop some of the sperm from the surface of her pussy. Getting the best of it, she now peered into Trey's eyes, sucking the seamen off her fingertips, giggling playfully.

Once they got up I fully retreated back into the shadows, afraid they would see me if I remained. It was only then I realized that my penis was at full mast, throbbing underneath my shorts. "Let's bounce—homie could be here any minute," Trey said, his voice deep and aggressive. Some rustling ensued followed by the porch door sliding open then shut. Making my way back to my room, my stiff cock waddled. I plopped onto my bed. The massacre that had just taken place was still vividly playing in my mind. I rolled to the side and took three pumps of lubricant in my hand.