Prologue
Hi there. My name (of course, changed for the obvious reason that I am not suicidal) is Jones. I am a black male, I work as a janitor at this all white school. I live in a big city nearby, and have held my job in this rich white satellite town for about 6 months. Basically, since the Man let me out on parole.
My life is a typical tale of the young black American male. I was a very good basketball player at school, and could have easily got myself a college scholarship. Plus I was smart, at least book wise.
But I blew it. My single mother tried to instil good moral values in me, and teach me about all the dignity and virtue of hard work, but out on the streets, I saw my homies making so much "loot" (cash yo), with so much ease, moving keys (drugs). I mean, they were pushing (driving) the hottest, shiniest whips (cars). They were rolling up in the hottest gear, I'm talking Ruff Ryder one day, Roca-wear the next, and Versace the day after, all of it authentic too. Their necks, wrists and fingers were so flooded with ice (bling bling) that if they died and went to hell (where they belonged), hell fire couldn't scorch them. And man, they were popping da Crystal and pulling the hottest chicks.
At the age of 16, I threw away my books and started rolling with my homies, a full time hustler/drug dealer/gangsta, with ambitions to become a Rapper (when I listen to my lyrics now, its kind of embarrassing, but back then, I thought I was the shit).
My mother was heartbroken and tried to warn me about the perils of my dubious, criminal existence, but I couldn't hear her. She was a good, church going woman, so it was kind of embarassing for her to have an unrepentant, criminal minded son like me. She finally said , "N**** get the fuck out of my house!" so I moved into a Hotel.
Man, me and the homies were living it up. I'm talking about Ghetto Kings, which incidentally was the name of my crew. Money came, money went and more money came. We all thought it would go on like that forever. We felt like kings man. Anything we wanted we could have, any girl we wanted we could fuck. And anybody who got out of line was dealt with. One my homies even shot a rival of ours in broad daylight, and when the cops came, everybody knew better than to squeal.
I wasn't much into this gun toting, gat busting stuff. I was by far the smartest member of the crew, having stayed the longest in school, so I took over the planning and organization of things. I picked up the consignments, and took care of the cash.
I was also the ladies man of the crew. Anytime I wasn't out there slanging (dealing), I was somewhere getting bent and getting laid. And man, when you have money, the girls come like nails to a magnet. And long as you're spending they are down for whatever. Picture this, I was an 18 year old young buck, swinging dick like a veteran. You'd find me up in a motel, cooped up with a team of 4 girls, Asian, Black, Latino and White. Man, I was a black sex maniac getting his fuck on. I was a down ass homie with a dirty ass plan, and the hot, young, money hungry, wanna-be-stars were down with it. I had one sucking my dick, one licking my balls, one eating my ass and the fourth sitting on my face. I stuck my tongue up in her pussy whilst she frigged and bust a nutt all over my face.
The one sucking my dick got greedy, and didn't wanna let go, but I intervened and told her, "Girl, pass the dickie on the left hand side."
I felt like the secretary general of the United Nations, spreading love and prosperity amongst the races. We were smoking weed, drinking Crystal and even riding the white horse (sniffing cocaine). Boy oh boy, I tell you, we fucked all week end. When my dick needed rest, I laid back and watched a multi-racial lesbian sex fest, live and direct.
However, as they say, any good thing comes to an end. My homie, the shooter, was growing over confident. He bust a gat once too often and they arrested the son of a bitch. I would have been cool, I wasn't involved in the shooting. But as is almost always the case with most gun slingers, my homie was a yellow ass coward. The moment he saw the DA, he said he was willing to deal. The DA was the conductor, and my homie was the chorus. He sang like a bird, portraying himself as a poor, naive, guilable dummy who had been misled by a vicious, evil, black thug/villain/ghetto-crime-kingpin, me! In fact, all my friends realised that I was the best excuse they had. And so I was fucked up the ass with no vaseline.
The DA was more interested in the suppliers, the big guys. He said, "Listen to me young buck, cooperate and we'll be your friend, none cooperation, will be your end!" (word to Boogie Down). But I knew a guy once who squealed once, and they got his family. I didn't wanna save my hide at my mother's expense. I have never been one for singing anyway, and when I turned down the DA's recording contract offer, they locked me up. They had found enough drugs and money on me to offer me state housing for 6 years.
In prison I had a long time to reflect on my evil ways. I spent most of my time in jail feeling like a panther in a cage, getting visits from my poor moms and boxing and weightlifting, and reading books, and making plans for a life of sophisticated crime after my release. To be honest, I didn't repent, but decided that if I was ever to high roll again, I would not throw the money out of the window so stupidly. And I would definitely go solo, fuck a group.
I went in at the age of 20 and came out two years early on good behavior. I was twenty four, young, black, handsome, fit like a sprinter, with no qualifications, no education to battle inflation. My parole conditions were, no drugs, no gang banging, no violence, no crime, (not even a fist fight). And I had to have a job and report to my parole officer.
I was lucky in the last respect. My parole officer turned out to be a prematurely balding, basketball bellied, 45 yr old white man who was looking for some handsome, big dick black man to service his horny, slut wife. He told me this on the second day I went to his office. I was a lil surprised. But he didn't seem like he was joking, and I didn't wanna get on his shit list, so I just agreed. I was sure his wife would be some ugly, big, fat white woman, looking like a beached whale. I couldn't imagine she could be pretty and he would want a black jailbird like me to fuck her.
So, anyway, we drove over to his place, right, out in the 'burbs. And his wife, Maude, came to greet me at the door, excitedly. She was about thirty, looked like a poor man's version of Anne Nicole Smith, with peroxide hair, and big fat tits. She was alright, from the looks. And she was besotted with me, instantly. She was so excited man, as she served us supper.
Afterwards, we retired into the living room. She sits next to me, all bubbly, and the husband says, "Go ahead."
Well, I just grabbed her and pulled her onto my lap and she was all over a black ass gangsta N****. The bitch got wild man, stripping down to pink, lacy thongs and shaking her thick, round, white ass right in my face, right in front of her husband.
I swear man, after four years without even smelling the scent of a pussy, I was ready to crown her Ms Universe and put my dick on her forehead, which is what I did. I had never met a chick that loved the dirty, filthy sex like her. The moment she saw my jail bird cock, she just seemed to fall into a frenzy. She licked it like a lolly, and soon as it was all wet, she was deep throating me man, taking the whole damn chocolate cock down her throat, and making funny, gurgling noises.
She had this look on her face like she was possessed. I could have called the exorcist, but I decided to just grab her by that ol' peroxide blonde hair and bang that black cock into her mouth. She gave me the hottest, wettest, loudest blowjob ever.
Man, I was ready to cumm, but she spat my dick out and said, sounding like some RnB video hood rat, "Hold up!" Then she was chewing my balls and licking my ass. She just turned me around, made me bend over like a faggot, squeezed that sweet, jowly face of hers between my ass cheeks and sent her hot, wet, long, pink tongue slithering up my chocolate starfish.
Man, I was in heaven. Only one day out of jail, and I had already found that dirty, sex loving white slut for black cock that all men, no matter what race, just dream about every time they are fucking their boring, prissy, feminist type of woman, who would slap their face if they even dared ask her to eat the starfish.
I was incensed, so excited and so horny. Fuck!!! I jumped that pussy like a buffalo bill. I banged her face against head board (just figuratively speaking) and fucked the shit out of her (literary speaking). And she was screaming those three magic words, "Harder, faster, deeper!" Man, I must have gone digging in them guts like a gardener. Then she told me, "Oh you sweet black man, please, just please, don't forget the a-hole neither!"
