Note 1:
This is dedicated to
Brittany
who requested this wicked tale.
Note 2:
Thanks to Tex Beethoven and Robert for editing this story.
* * * * *
Moving to Detroit was a huge change for us. We'd lived in a town of 5,000 for our entire lives, but wishing to be closer to my two grown children attending a small private college, I moved my entire family, including my eighteen-year-old twin sons, 250 miles north to a city of millions.
I found the large industrial city very nerve-wracking, but I felt
all
of my children needed me, and following the tragic loss of their mother in a freeway accident, they were all I had left.
Luckily (within a sea of not much luck at all during those tragic days), my wife's life insurance policy (she'd been a lawyer, while I'm the writer of a couple of decently received novels) paid off all our debts, and even left us a decent nest egg for emergencies.
Also luckily, I was offered a job as a creative writing professor at the same college my two older children were attending, and my hours were light enough that I had some spare time to finish my third novel.
I enrolled my two twins (Philip and Michael) at a private school to begin their senior year, a perk of my new job, and I also qualified for living accommodations just off campus... so I was close to my son Jason and daughter Michelle, who lived in the dorms.
Upon my arrival, I immediately noticed both Jason and Michelle were different somehow, although I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was... just something.... except that Jason was a lot less outgoing then he'd ever been back at home, while Michelle was more outgoing, the polar opposite of her somewhat shy demeanor back home.
I also noticed she now had a tattoo, a black spade with a flesh-coloured Q remaining un-inked inside it, on her lower back. When I asked her about it, since she seemed the least likely of my four children to acquire a tattoo, she said it just stood for her mom's middle name, which had been Quinn. That made sense to me, and even though I'd always disliked tattoos, she was an adult now, so it was her body and her choice.
I also couldn't quite identify what, but there was something off about the college as well. For example, although the breakdown was likely twenty percent black, fifty percent white, and thirty percent other races (there was a sizeable number of Asian and Hispanic), it appeared that the black students ruled the roost. The student body president and vice president were both black students, the quarterback was black, and even the male lead of the upcoming musical Grease was black.
Now I'm not racist at all, and at first I was enthusiastic about such a great pro-active college. But the longer I taught there, the more signs I witnessed of a strange sense of entitlement among the black students.
For example, just to show you I wasn't being racist, that I was simply noticing what I witnessed without judging, during the past five straight classes, a black student named Jazmine sitting in the front row had a white girl massaging her feet. It was like she was almost challenging me to rebuke her for it, which I didn't, for I was more bewildered than dismayed. Plus, Jazmine always had a smug look on her face whenever I looked at her.
Seeing the star football quarterback with a white girl on each arm was also a little surprising since he was black, as was the time I hurried into a student bathroom, unable to make it to the faculty one in time, and witnessed a pretty redhead being fucked by a black student. And not hidden away in a stall, but right out near the sinks for anybody (such as myself) to see. They didn't appear to notice me, but it was pretty obvious she was enjoying the fucking... and stranger yet, since she was almost naked I could see that she too had that same Q of Spades tattoo. I did my business and was just leaving, when I heard her cry out loudly enough to be heard in the hallway outside, "Yes, you wonderful black bastard, come in my cunt with that big black cock!"
I scurried out with my cock hard from what I'd witnessed. Clearly almost two years without sex was getting to me.
Then suddenly one evening, everything began making sense.
I'd forgotten my iPad in my office, so I went back after hours to get it. It was around nine, and I saw the lights still on in lecture hall four. I wasn't the last one using that hall, Professor Harris was since he had a psychology class after mine, but that was a few hours ago, so I figured I'd go in and shut the lights off.
But as I opened the door, I was in for another shock... this one more extreme than my bathroom walk-in two days before.
Professor Harris was still there, and he was bent over with his hands on the podium, his pants at his ankles, while Jamal, a top student in my creative writing class, was fucking him from behind.
"Oh God, fuck me," Professor Harris, a good-looking white man in his late 20s, moaned.
"Yes, fuck him, fuck his ass good," a female voice cried out, as I turned to my right to see Jazmine sitting in the same seat she usually occupied, but instead of enjoying a foot massage this time, she had a woman between her black legs, clearly eating her out.
No one saw me at first, as everyone was preoccupied, and Jamal asked, "Do you enjoy seeing your wife eating that black pussy?"
His wife? The other Professor Harris?!
Mike Harris was the English professor who'd given me a tour of the college once I'd accepted the job. His wife Elaine, also a professor here, was incredibly good looking, and she always wore nice skirts and pantyhose... which I appreciated, having always had a thing for nylons.
"Yes, she looks amazing between Mistress Jazmine's legs," Mike replied willingly, with a moan.
"Think she'd like my dick in that white pussy of hers?" Jamal asked, as he really drilled the male professor from behind.
"Perhaps," Mike moaned, as he watched his wife licking away between a college girl's legs.
"Do you want my boyfriend's black cock in your hole, slut?" Jazmine asked Elaine.
"I don't know," she replied, her voice muffled by Jazmine's pussy, but just loud enough for me to hear. "He's so big."
"I think you do," Jamal said.
"Oh, if your faggot husband can take those ten inches in his ass, I'm sure you can take them in that virgin pussy of yours, Jazmine analyzed wickedly, finally glancing up and seeing me.
"I'm not a virgin, I have three children," Elaine denied, while I should have turned and fled, yet I felt unable to move, so captivated and shocked by everything I was witnessing.
"Until you've had BBC in that white snatch you are," Jazmine argued, then added, pointing at me, "it looks like we have a Peeping Tom."
Everyone turned to look at me and I stammered, "S-s-sorry, I just saw the lights were on."
"And then you decided to be a perv and watch," Jazmine accused.
"No, I was just surprised," I denied.
"Well, come over here and take a closer look at your surprise," Jazmine invited arrogantly, as she pulled the married Elaine back between her legs, and Jamal didn't slow down his drilling of Mike's ass, whose cheeks went bright red as he turned away from me.
"I should leave," I said, even though I wasn't certain I wanted to.
"No, get over here," Jazmine ordered in a firm and startling
don't-fuck-with-me
tone.
Of course I still should have turned and walked away... this was the kind of shit that got you fired... yet I felt my legs ignoring my logic, as they began walking me towards the surreal sex acts.
"Tell Professor Joe how much you love black dick," Jamal ordered. On Day One, I'd invited my students to address me by my first name instead of my last, hopefully to build a closer relationship with them (although not this close of a relationship).
"Please, no," Mike pleaded, clearly completely humiliated to be caught in such a compromised, humiliating situation.
Jamal pulled out, his huge cock suddenly in full view, and
fuck
was it huge, more than double the size of my just under five-inch dick.
"Do you want this cock, Professor Joe?" Jamal asked, his cock swaying back and forth like an elephant's trunk.
I couldn't take my eyes off it... it was like it had magnetic pull, but I answered, "No, no, no, I'm straight."
"So is Professor Harris," Jamal said, before adding, "at least he was before he discovered his true purpose."
"True purpose?" I asked, still unable to take my eyes off of his cock... it was just so toweringly majestic.
"To be like all white men are at their cores," Jamal said, as he went back behind Mike and slammed his dick back in his ass, "submissive sissies for dominant black men."
"Oh fuck," Mike groaned, as he was again being fucked.
"You see," Jamal explained, "Professor Harris here is mortified to be caught with his pants down, a black student's dick in his ass, and his wife eating black pussy, yet he can't do anything about it. He can't control himself. And you've probably heard the saying, 'once you go black'..."
I'd never heard whatever he was quoting, so I said, "No, it doesn't ring a bell."
"Remember he's from some hillbilly town," Jazmine excused my ignorance, but demeaningly.
"Right," Jamal nodded, "Help him out: how does the saying end, Professor Fuck-Toy?"
Mike was humiliated, yet moaning in pleasure as he was really drilled, and filled in the blank with, "You never go back."
"That's right; and is it true?" Jamal continued.
"Yes," Mike answered shamefully.
