Respect Your Elders

When I hear someone utter the old saying, "try it, you might like it", I think of when I discovered that I actually like broccoli covered with cheese when I visited my grandmother during the 8th grade. I was forced to eat the vegetable in fear of hurting her feelings, but realized I loved it. Or when I discovered jazz music in my college days. Little did I know I would recently discover something I enjoy, that I had no idea I loved so much, but first a little background.

After I graduated from college, I was recruited by a large company for a position that was too good to pass up. It was a very good job with great pay and the promise for quick advancement. Despite one big hitch, I quickly accepted the job. The hitch? The company was located in the deep south, and I am from Nebraska.

My girlfriend at the time had no intention of moving and I didn't have any friends or family that lived in Atlanta. So basically, I would begin this new chapter of my life all alone. I was bummed that I had to say goodbye to friends and family. It was also tough breaking up with my girlfriend.

Here I was, a new town, a new setting and despite having a terrific job, I felt so out of place. I rented an apartment near downtown Atlanta that was really nice. It was technically out of my range financially, but my parents gave me a nice going away/graduation present and set me up with a hefty account that would make me comfortable money-wise for a good while.

As I was setting up my new apartment, I was also starting my new job. Between my training, coming home after work to buy things to furnish my apartment, my first three weeks were incredibly busy. I didn't have much alone time or a chance to relax. It wasn't until my second month, that I had the opportunity for some free time to just catch my breath.

On the first weekend that I could do something for myself, I decided to enjoy the pool that my apartment featured. Although there were only 50 units, each apartment was large and really impressive. The whole complex featured some impressive amenities, one was a really great pool that looked like something from an expensive resort hotel. It was mid-June in Atlanta; I was needing to cool down and enjoy a dip in our pool.

When I got to the pool, it had just opened at 8am. There was no one else except for one person who was doing laps between the length of the pool. I found a good spot to get a little sun. I thought I might work on my tan before I got into the water.

As I laid back, I gave a little more attention to the man swimming so hard back and forth in the pool. He was a black man and it made me think about how little I have interacted with black people in my past but knew that I would live in an area that had many more people of color than where I came from.

I was not bothered by the fact that in Atlanta I would live with more black people than I ever did, but I also knew it would be different than my small town in Nebraska or in college. At work, there were more white people than black people but everywhere else I went, I could see I was the minority, but I was raised to treat all people with respect.

As I was reflecting on this, the gentleman got out of the pool. I got a better look at him and the first thing I noticed was that he was wearing a speedo swim trunk and it was being pushed to its limit! It didn't leave much to the imagination that he was well-endowed.

The man had a remarkable bulge that really stood out despite that fact that I wasn't trying to look for it. Immediately, I thought back to those times when I had heard that black men were huge. It sounded like a myth or urban legend but from the time I was a teenager I used to hear the stories that black men were well hung.

I was thinking that this man could be prove that myth when I then realized he was walking straight towards me, with that package appearing to swing as he walked! When he came up to me, he smiled and held out his hand.

"Hi, my name is Charles. You're new here aren't you." He said in a friendly manner.

I stood up and shook his hand, "Just moved in last month. My name is Brad, nice to meet you." I responded.

"This place is great, isn't it?" Charles said as he looked around. "It's expensive but worth it, have you tried the hot tub?" He pointed to the hot tub that was on the other side of the pool.

"Not yet." I answered.

"Well after I work out in the exercise room, I love to relax in it." He then pointed out the building that housed a full weight room and Nautilus equipment.

I could see that Charles was very physically fit with muscular arms, legs and even a slight sixpack. His black skin was hairless, it made his athletic attributes stand out more prominently. In fact, if I was to judge him on his body and tight skin, I would guess he was in his thirties or younger, but Charles had a rugged look to his face. Handsome, but certain facial features made me wonder if he was older than his body made him look.

His head was clean shaven, and he didn't have any facial hair, but a few wrinkles suggested he could be in his late 40's or 50's. Still, with a well-defined chest, abs and the arms & legs of a professional athlete, it was hard to call him an old man.

"How long have you lived here Charles?" I asked.

"Three years. Oh, hey call me Sarge. All my friends do." He proceeded to tell me he was a retired Sergeant in the army, serving over 30 years, mostly as a drill instructor at a boot camp.

"You're in your 50's?" I asked stunned.

"57." He replied. I had to tell him how impressed I was that he was in such fantastic shape and that I could only wish to be in such good condition when I am older.

"Well, I swim or jog for over an hour every day, work out every other day and eat clean. Good genes don't hurt either." He responded.

Sarge sat on the patio chair next to me and started a conversation with me that lasted for the next hour. We spoke about ourselves, my new career and how I was from Nebraska. He told me he was divorced and started a security business after he left the military.

I found Sarge to be interesting and easy to talk to. He was so manly and rugged with a deep voice and some of the stories he told about his days training young men for service were fascinating. I told him how different my small town in Nebraska was from Atlanta. Sarge then asked if I knew many black people growing up. I honestly told him only a few in college and that my hometown didn't have any black families living there.

"Atlanta must be a culture shock to you." He said jokingly. If he only knew I was just thinking the same thing before he came out of the pool.

Sarge asked if I liked barbecue ribs and that he was going to grill tonight. I told him I had plans, but he insisted I come for dinner. I accepted his offer since he seemed like such a nice guy.

"Dress casual now" he suggested, "it's summertime in Atlanta and it will be hot tonight." He grabbed his towel and left the pool area.

That evening I was getting ready to go over to Sarge's apartment which was right across the parking lot from my place. I decided to take his advice and wear shorts and a nice tee shirt. When Sarge answered his door, he was wearing a Polo shirt and blue jeans. He still looked remarkably young for 57.

The dinner was delicious, I commented how good the barbecue was. He told me it was a homemade sauce, passed down from his family. We sat on his large porch while we ate and stayed there while we had a beer after our meal.

Our conversation once again turned to our past experiences and Sarge admitted something that stunned me because it seemed to have come out of nowhere.

"I haven't had sex in almost a year." He admitted. I was taken aback mostly because Sarge seemed like a man the ladies would run to. He was tall, built and had what I would consider good looks if I was judging another man.

Sarge told me after the divorce he concentrated on his business and just hadn't put himself out there the last couple of years. I then opened up and told him that I hadn't done anything since coming to Atlanta. I explained how I had to break up with my girlfriend and being so busy, I didn't have time to talk to another woman, much less date.

As Sarge started to talk about how his divorce changed him, I slipped into deep thought within myself. It had occurred to me that not only had I missed out on sex for over two months, but I also hadn't even had any sexual release in that time. I knew I had been horny, my cock got hard at different times throughout the day for no reason, but I simply had zero opportunity to even jack off.

A wave of horniness suddenly rushed though me. My body was telling me that tonight, actually now would be a good chance to run home and find that release I needed. My cock was stiffening from just the idea of getting to play with it, finally, after this long drought of no orgasms.

Whatever Sarge was saying to me was lost in the sudden urge to go home and jerk off. I even thought I could call my old girlfriend and enjoy some phone sex. Surely, she would be willing to have some. I snapped out of my deep thoughts and told Sarge I needed to run. He was disappointed that I had suddenly, out of nowhere, excused myself but even as he was trying to stop me and offer me another beer, I was out the door and walking briskly to my place. I left Sarge at his door shouting "Brad! Brad! Come back!"

I hated to be rude to my gracious host but as soon as I got into my bedroom I stripped out of my clothes and jumped into my bed. I first called my old girlfriend on my cell phone, my cock was standing straight up, hard as a rock as I dialed. No answer.

I stroked my cock, the sensation of my hand running up and down was exactly what I needed. I moaned from the first pleasurable sensation I gave my dick. I began to vision the last sexual experience I had with my girlfriend. I felt like we had a good connection and she told me I was a good lover.

She was beautiful and had a great body, I loved to fuck & eat her or have her suck my cock. I was visioning a sexual encounter with her, then suddenly the image of Sarge exiting the pool entered my mind.

That stunning body and even more, that mind-blowing bulge. I replayed the reaction I had when I laid eyes on him. But wait a minute, I'm thinking about a man? But I'm not bi and I'm certainly not gay! How could I be thinking of another man right now. I made myself rethink of my old girlfriend.

But that moment Sarge came up to me, the bulge was even more pronounced when he was close. Ok, ok, ok let me think about that hot secretary we have at the office. The one with the big tits that often wears a mini dress skirt and has those fantastic legs. She was smiling at me the other day, like Sarge smiled when he introduced himself at the pool.

I started to envision Sarge pulling down that strained speedo and revealing his cock to me. What did a black cock look like? I looked at mine all the time. I was a healthy 7 inches and the three woman I had sex with said I had a very nice dick, but I know Sarge's is much bigger, but how large is it?

If my cock was hard before, it was getting like I never felt before. Almost numb with pure unadulterated stiffness. I pulled it down to my stomach and let it go. It spung right back up, and didn't even wobble a bit, it was so fucking hard.

Why am I fantasizing about another man? I can't believe I am thinking about a man with my cock this hard. What if I actually touched Sarge's dick? A big black dick, I never thought I would want to do something like that, but the image is so...so appealing. An odd feeling grips my stomach, it's like I'm cramping up. I am breathing hard. I feel very warm despite my apartment being cooled by the air conditioner.

Sarge is much older than me, but he seems so sexy and strong. He could probably have his way with me if he wanted to. What if he MADE me suck his cock, that could be sensual!! The rush of my excitement is so palpable. I feel like I am having an out-of-body experience!!

I'm not only having my first fantasy about a man but my first interracial fantasy, my first fantasy about a person much older than me. The newness of it all is so exciting and different.

I jack my cock slowly. I know I can shoot at any moment, but I want this to last. It will probably be the only time I fantasize like this. I am certain. I bet Sarge has an amazing cock. I bet the myth is true, especially in his case.

Suddenly there is a knock on my door. I disregard it. I can't imagine anyone that is more important than what is going on. There is no way I am interrupting what is probably the most intense masturbation experience of my life.

I am deep into the thought of Sarge, a cock, a big black cock. Me sucking a big black cock. Again... the door!! Now the knocks are loud. "Goddammit!" I scream as I jump out of bed and throw a towel around my waist. My hard-on is still raging even though it is covered with a towel. I open my door with just a crack and say loudly "What!!" in anger.

"Brad?" A familiar deep voice comes from the other side.

"Sarge?" I answer in response as I open the door wider and come out from behind it. "What's...uh...going on?" I ask. I am stunned that the man I was just so deep in thought about is actually standing in front of me again. I am also feeling embarrassment that I was having such carnal thoughts about him just seconds ago.

"You left so quickly, I wanted to see if you were ok."

"Oh.... yeah. I'm good. I just...uh...I had to do a few things...here...that I forgot I needed to do...um, how are you?" I was rambling and sounded like an idiot. The images were flashing of him in those Speedos in my mind as I talked.

Sarge could see I was in a towel, but I was also trying to hide the fact that I had a hard dick pushing it out in the front. "Were you in the middle of a shower?" He asked.

"Oh no...I mean yeah, I was in the shower...when I heard the knock." Still stammering.

"Why are you not wet?" He wondered out loud, he caught me lying. I stood in silence, not knowing what to say next.

Sarge pushed his way inside. "I need to tell you something." I felt so vulnerable, defenseless, trying to hide my erection and not let on the fact that I was just fantasizing about this man. "Sit down Brad." He commanded. I obeyed.

I took a seat in the middle of the couch I had in my living room. My hands resting on my lap still fumbling to cover my dick which was still hard and probably leaking pre-cum. Sarge stood in front of me as I looked up at this man that stood 6'4", easily.

"There is something that I was trying to tell you before you left. Something that I think is important you should know. There is a reason why I haven't had sex in about a year."

I sat quietly and held onto every word he was saying. He was obviously trying to use his words carefully; this was something profound he was telling me. Sarge explained that he just didn't get a divorce. His wife left him. She did so because she caught him looking at porn but not just any porn.

"You see Brad. Like anyone else, I have an attraction for a "type". My type happens to be...men. Younger men. Younger white men...like you." His words floored me. I couldn't move, I couldn't speak. Inside, I was screaming excitement. My outward appearance probably resonated shock.

The porn his wife caught him looking at was gay interracial porn, Sarge explained. For many, many years he had fantasized about sex with a white male and by the time he was in his 40's, they had stopped having sex because he knew he just wanted to have sex with younger white men.

After his marriage ended, he moved to these apartments and met a resident here. They became lovers until the man moved from Atlanta and Sarge was once again without a lover. Sarge said it was hard to find a male lover, he didn't go to bars or use online sites. He wanted to meet a man naturally he said.

"Then I saw you..." Sarge stood in front of me and began to touch his crotch. He rubbed himself as he said, "When I first laid eyes on you, I knew you were exactly my type. I was very attracted to you when I first saw you at the pool." Now Sarge was massaging his bulge. You could see it growing under his jeans. The amazing thing was that it didn't run down his pants but along the front.

Sarge continued to squeeze his shaft, that was showing through his jeans, it looked unbelievable. "Now I heard you talk about a girlfriend and all..." His hands gripping his thick and growing cock that was actually snaking to his hip. My eyes began to water, I hadn't blinked in the last couple of minutes. "...but I have to think that the way you are looking at me you are a little curious."

Despite his wearing jeans, you could make out the outline of a long, thick rod, just aching to come out. Easily over 10" long and as thick as a cucumber, it looked so menacing even under his clothes. "Oh yeah, I can see you are." He said in complete confidence.

I could only nod, it was a very slow and small one. Again, my stomach was cramping, I never felt arousal like this before. "You said you didn't know many black people growing up? You never made any black friends?" He ran his fingers to his belt and began to slowly undo his belt.

My mouth moved but I couldn't make a sound. I was stunned from the poised manner that Sarge was enticing me with. He knew he had my complete attention, so he didn't bother with rushing anything.

"You have never seen a black cock before?" Still speechless, I could only shake my head no. Like my nod, small and slow. Sarge had pulled his belt apart and let it hang, he was now going for the fastner on his pants.

He leisurely undid his pants. "I have to believe that despite your inexperience with black men, you heard about us...about a special gift we are blessed with." Now his zipper was coming down, flirtatiously and measured.

I again nodded, ever so slightly. I was a deer caught in the headlights; frozen and afraid. I was also incredibly aroused and was squeezing my own rock-hard cock.

"Is it true?" I said in a breathless whisper. Now clutching my own cock through the towel, I decided that I wanted to see it and that I should show some signs of my curiosity. Sarge peeled open one side of his pants and then the other, slowly. His jeans were now open, I could see he wasn't wearing any underwear. Sarge walked up to me and was less than a foot away, his crotch right in front of my face.

"Is what true?" Sarge asked in an ominous way. He knew exactly what I meant; want I was curious about, but he wanted me to say the words.

"Do black men have bigger cocks?" My voice was stronger this time I spoke, probably because I wanted to know. My yearning was showing.

It was actually a redundant question because anyone could see Sarge was carrying a huge cock in his pants. He had squeezed and rubbed it to its steely hard state. It was only a matter of would he show me this humungous dick.

"Curious?" I will never forget the sound of his voice saying that word. I responded in an infatuated manner, "I am...I am...I am."

On my fourth "I am." He pulled it out, the biggest cock I will probably ever see in my life. It was magnificent, beyond the images I pictured of what it might look like. The size, intimidating. The color, exotic. The rigidness, impressive. The length, mind-blowing. The girth, unbelievable. The balls, massive. I let out a sigh in response of laying eyes on it for the first time, it wouldn't be the last time I would react to it so emotionally.

Like his body, he had no hair down there. No pubic hair and his nuts were smooth. The cock head and skin at the start of his shaft were a lighter shade of black but his rod was like the rest of his skin, a deep sensual shade of chocolate. The veins that ran down his cock were pronounced and swollen. One huge vein ran down the middle of his cock and others ran across, giving his rod the appearance of an exceptionally swollen cock.