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Cell #13 Continued...
by Duke

***

A story of a man's perverted prison past coming back to 
haunt his present-day life. Previous part available in
directory 37. (MM, nc, v, intr)

***

The following is based on actual events. It's about me, 
Duke, Lance, and Jane, my wife, and how we all handled 
the events of those exciting post-prison days. This is 
their story...

*

I lived in an old white house perched snugly between 
old and majestic Oak trees on a gentle and sloping 
hill. I had been back in my upscale suburban New York 
City home for about six months. I was home after my two 
event filled years at Lions Mountain prison. The two 
years were still very fresh in my memory. 

Jane, my wife, had not pestered me with questions as to 
my personal experiences whilst I was behind the wall in 
upstate New York. I was grateful for her reticence. 
Both Jane and I were working assiduously at 
reacquainting ourselves with one another. I slowly 
resumed some if not all of my pre prison activities.

Jane busied herself with women's clubs, gardening, and 
shopping for haute couture fashions in the city.
 
Brian, my fourteen year old son had gone off to live 
with a cousin. We thought his mom and I could have more 
quality time unfettered by the distractions an 
adolescent boy could offer.
 
I was falling in love all over again with my lovely 
wife of fifteen years. With re-acquired objectivity I 
was growing to appreciate just how attractive Jane was.

At five six and one hundred and thirty pounds topped 
off with a 36B set of tits plus a beautifully coifed 
head of chemically enhanced 'blonde' hair and a pair of 
piercing green eyes she was undeniably stunning. Think 
Faye Dunaway as to her countenance.

Now in her mid thirties she was blossoming into a 
certified MILF. Jane was both cultured and well 
educated. She received an M.A. in art history from 
Vassar.

We were thoroughly enjoying our quality time. Jane was 
learning to cook due to my somewhat reduced financial 
circumstances. Her new expertise with pots and pans was 
startling. I especially enjoyed her cooking ensemble: 
High heels, panties, bra, covered with a large frilly 
cotton apron. I made a habit of sneaking up behind her 
when she was preparing a meal. I would nuzzle her 
perfumed neck whilst rubbing her ample panty covered 
buttocks with my aroused penis. She would giggle in 
sweet innocence at my lewd entreaties. 

Little did I suspect a deep dark truth about Jane and I 
would soon be made chillingly clear to both of us.

This particular evening found Jane off to visit her 
mother in the city. I had planned on a night of 
relaxing and watching football on television.

I went to the window and parted the white lace 
curtains. I looked into a dark cold winter night. 
Thunder clapped and lightning streaked across a cold 
black sky. I felt snug and safe within the walls of my 
upscale suburban home.

The doorbell's shrill tone announced a visitor. I 
abruptly awoke from my brief reverie.

"Yo my nigger." Lance chortled.

Yes, it was Lance my former cellmate from Lions 
Mountain.

The past is always present I silently thought.

"What the fuck?" I responded hesitatingly.

After the shock of seeing my quondam nigger master from 
prison wore off we were chatting in my tastefully 
appointed livingroom.

I couldn't help but notice Lance had maintained his 
impressive 6' 2" 230 pound frame magnificently. He had 
evidently not missed a day lifting weights in the yard. 
Under his heavy winter coat he wore a tight black 
cotton shirt and a pair of baggy work jeans. His 
spectacularly muscled torso threatened to burst the 
seams of his fraying shirt.

"Well it looks like you and that foxy wife of yours are 
doing real fine." 

Lance commented as his gaze took in my comparatively 
lavish home.

"We're doing well Lance, hows by you." I sheepishly 
responded.

"I'm gonna need a place to stay for a while." Lance 
said matter-of-factly.

Lance pulled his head back and openly laughed at my 
look of confusion and fear.

"Don't worry Dukie baby." Lance said behind a broad 
toothy grin. "I'll be a well behaved bunky."

He was sitting splay legged on my light blue suede 
couch. He casually but deliberately brushed his crotch 
as he drank down the cognac I had poured for him. He 
loudly smacked his lips as he told me it had been quite 
a spell since he had a good drink.

I attempted to explain to him how awkward it would be 
to have him live with me and my wife.

How would I explain him?

Would Jane find out about my perverted exploits at 
Lions Mountain?

I grew concerned.

I patiently told Lance of my reservations. He assured 
me he would be the very embodiment of discretion on 
'sensitive' subjects. He allowed it wouldn't be in his 
best interest to let that perverted cat out of the bag.

"Besides Dukie baby we could have some good nigger fun 
when wifey ain't around." Lance laughed loudly.

I swallowed noticeably. Lance stopped laughing and 
smiled threateningly at me.

I got his unstated message.

Go along and he'd be discreet, don't and he'd find a 
way to muck up my smooth life with Jane.

I quickly thought through all my apparent options. Not 
one option didn't include a part where no matter what I 
did my life would get very complicated. We discussed at 
length our respective lives since prison.

Lance lugged in a large suitcase from my front porch. 
No formal stated assent from me was needed. Lance had 
come to stay.

Between us we had consumed one liter of cognac. My now 
uninhibited imagination danced around what Lance had 
termed "nigger fun."

My heart raced a bit and my penis hardened.

Shit! I thought. I hadn't left behind my penchant for 
strong black men and big hard black cock. My stay at 
Lions Mountain had affected a sea-change in my 
sexuality.

My lower lip quivered. Lance looked at me, winked and 
smiled evilly. He spread his legs wide and 
suggestively. His memorable cock was aroused and 
jutting straight up through his baggy pants. I was 
breathing heavily.

Lance pulled at his zipper.

Oh fuck I thought. Just when I had figured all that 
crazy white slave boy nigger worshipping stuff was 
behind me. I was now being pulled back into a dark area 
of my life I presumed I'd never visit again. I closed 
my eyes as tears welled up in them.

"Where's your bathroom?"

Lance asked.

"Through there on the right."

I said pointing to the right. I was directing his 
attention to the master bedroom. Lance arose and headed 
for the master bath. I saw his absurdly large erection 
tent his otherwise loose fitting pants. Old feelings as 
well as new ones sparked through my alcohol soaked 
imagination. Having this nigger Adonis in my house, the 
one I shared with my wife was giving rise to sick 
perverted fantasies.

"C'mere Dukie baby." I heard Lance yell.

I took a deep breath as I obeyed Lance's directive. The 
bathroom door was ajar. 

I saw Lance as he shook off a few drops of piss from 
his python penis. Just the sight of it brought 5th tier 
memories cascading through my mind. He saw me staring 
unabashedly at his cock. Lance laughed once again.

I opened my dry mouth to say something. Lance raised 
his huge right hand quickly. I spasmodically put up my 
left hand in a defensive gesture. I squeezed my eyes 
tightly shut. I was conditioned to expect a smack when 
Lance made this move. He grabbed me by the left ear. 
With one harsh yank he had me bending and screeching.

"Owwww." I winced in pain.

"Where do you and Jane sleep?"

Lance inquired brusquely.

I tentatively pointed towards my bedroom. With two 
large strides Lance was through my bedroom threshold. I 
was firmly attached to him by my ear. He flung me hard. 
I landed on my bed. I slowly rubbed my sore red ear.

"Did I hurt Dukie baby?" Lance asked without a note of 
sincerity.

Before I had a chance to answer he slapped me hard 
across the face. He had undone his belt. He was pulling 
his fly open. His pants fell to his ankles. His bright 
red bikini briefs did little to restrain his burgeoning 
cock. Lance had my full attention now. The slap had 
knocked the cognac from my thought processes. His 
beautiful black cock was at full mast. It was every bit 
as large as I remembered it. His ten inch meat missile 
stood erect and proudly past his navel. In reflex I 
licked my dry lips.

"You remember the black snake dontya Dukie?"

Lance growled as he grabbed at his cock and pulled the 
foreskin back.

A silly grin was my only response.

"Sure ya do." Lance said smugly.

I had dreamed of the black snake many nights as my wife 
slept quietly next to me.

As I looked intently into Lance's crotch my heart sank 
and my dick grew aroused.

"Take care of my pants white boy. Lance commanded

I scampered to the floor. I rapidly untied his shoes 
and removed his socks. 

I pulled his warm aromatic briefs away. He kicked his 
clothes under my bed. 

I stood up and pulled at the hem of his frayed shirt. 
His powerful manly chest was in my face. I inhaled his 
masculine essence. Lance's self assurance was so 
complete he didn't have to raise his voice to dominate 
all those around him. My gaze was one of frighteningly 
pitiless admiration and joy. Lance had a chiseled 
stateliness to his physique both males and females 
could appreciate. The wretched truth I felt was about 
to be revealed. Our moments together on the 5th tier 
were now recalled with proustean clarity. 

It was a shimmering transcendent ideal not easily 
ignored. Lance stood firm in my bedroom. He was 
completely naked. The only light illuminating his 
breathtaking body was the odd diffuse ambient moonlight 
now drifting in through the silk curtains that hung in 
my bedroom.

Lance was a caricature of a manly physique. I gasped 
loud enough for him to hear. My god he was one superb 
male specimen I mused to myself. This dark and 
dangerous animal was quite simply, irresistible. I was 
literally, visibly shaking all over.

Lance's powerful and obvious muscles flexed. His 
shoulders were exceedingly broad as his waist was 
narrow.

Like the tongue returns to where the tooth has been: I 
- unbeckoned - began to remove my clothing. I knew 
Lance liked his white boy bitches to be totally naked 
as they served him.

I was now ready to be his bitch and start serving him 
once again. I pulled my white briefs over a wet and 
angry five inch pecker. I knelt subserviently in front 
of Lance's monstrous ten inch black cock. I was 
overcome with the rush of needing to be denigrated by 
this forceful and domineering nigger boss.

As if on cue Lance spoke. "You're a fucken pig Duke and 
so is your cunt wife and fag son."

I glanced downward and nodded in the affirmative.

His large callused hands clutched my head forcefully. 
In a much practiced motion my mouth opened widely. 
Lance swayed his hips forward. His bone hard cock 
entered my drooling accepting mouth. I suddenly felt my 
throat full of hard black cock. I kept my hands at my 
sides. Lance rammed his turgid lovestick in and out of 
my receptive mouth. I had to breathe entirely through 
my nose.

I heard my telephone ring. It went unanswered as the 
machine picked the call up. I heard my wife's sweet 
voice tell the caller to leave a message and we'd get 
right back.

"Suck that black cock you white piece of shit." Lance 
bellowed.

I slowly picked up my hands. I placed them gently on 
Lance's ripped powerful thighs. Lance smiled broadly as 
he looked down at me. I lifted my face. I made and held 
eye contact with Lance. He placed his hand under my 
chin and pulled my face further up.

"Look at me cocksucker." Lance ordered.

I knew Lance needed to see the full face of any white 
boy who was servicing him. I kept my head at the angle 
Lance had moved it to. Under Lance's close scrutiny, I 
now sucked his immense cock ever more fervently.

"We don't wanna let wifey find out you're a fag 
cocksucker do we Dukie?" Lance questioned.

I didn't remove his stone hard cock from my pliant soft 
mouth. I just shook my head in the negative. My small 
pinkish penis stood erect. I only interrupted my oral 
ministrations to occasionally lick and lap at his 
swollen balls or his tree trunk thighs.

"You given that bitch wife all she needs Duke?" Lance 
questioned.

I didn't know how to answer so I just grunted. I had 
always assumed Jane and I had a satisfactory sex life. 
You know as the saying goes I didn't get any 
complaints. Now in the bedroom I shared with Jane I 
grew doubtful about my assumption. How could she be 
satisfied with my meager boy cock when a bull like 
Lance could give her so much more?

"You look so good down there on your knees with a 
nigger's cock in your mouth Dukie." Lance said.

In response I scrunched down and lapped and licked his 
nut sack and perineum.

"No doubt she loves that pinky dick of yours." Lance 
laughed.

His laugh was heartfelt and earnest.

I continued the blowjob undeterred. I knew from my 5th 
tier experiences my penis was not the smallest of white 
dicks around. I had seen even smaller there. None of 
course were as large as our nigger bosses. Row after 
row of white boys on their backs or knees as we all 
serviced our black masters. That was the 5th tier. 

Back then I felt kind of sorry for the fairly well 
endowed white boys. For they had an ostensible 
masculinity to surrender and lose. I and most white 
boys there had very little and we gave it up in a flash 
anyway. So the concept of white inferiority was brought 
home to me and reinforced on the testosterone driven 
5th tier nights.

I wondered silently how Jane would respond to our 
nigger house-guest. The mere entrance of Jane into my 
thoughts as I serviced the giant black cock before me 
naked on my knees only served to make my dick harder.

My cocksucking grew even more ardent and pronounced.

Lance's remarkable cock was topped off by a condignly 
large knob of a crown. It pulled my lips outward as he 
pulled his hips away from me.

Lance bent lower. His cock remained in my mouth as I 
bent with him.

Suddenly Lance was lighting a small cylindrical piece 
of glass. I caught a whiff of the crack cocaine moments 
later.

I looked pleadingly in his eyes. His hand made hard 
contact with my soft features.

< THWACK! WAMP! >

Lance struck me.

A warm rivulet of blood joined my already wet mouth.

It came to me. Lance and I were both bound together 
inside a twisted dream. We were destined to ride a 
strange train all the way to the end of the line. 

Maybe together?

It sounds crazy, but at that moment I couldn't hear my 
own heartbeat. His massive man meat plopped square on 
my face. Balls jiggling around my chin. The crown 
flopped past my forehead. I could hear my own silly 
mussitations.

"Please please. Don't make me sir."

We both knew damn well this last statement was pure 
fiction. Lance loved to hear sissy white boys squeal 
and beg for the last vestiges of their self respect and 
pride. After he heard the begging he would strip away 
whatever manly pride remained.

Lance was indeed a cruel black master.

Lance let out a deep sigh of satisfaction as he inhaled 
the smoke. I was alarmed. I was fearful the distinctive 
odor would remain and Jane would discover crack was 
smoked in her immaculate home.

Lance caressed the back of my head. His grip tightened. 
I submissively yielded my entire mouth onto his blood 
engorged cock. I took in deep breaths through my 
nostrils. The pulsing throbbing outsized symbol of 
nigger sexual potency seemed to be a self sufficient 
being unto itself. It was that amazingly large. He 
slapped his whole cock on my face. Pre cum stuck to my 
soft light brown hair.

"Lap dem black balls white boy." Lance instructed.

I immediately complied.

I was always so eager to please him.

My tongue swirled over both of his large testicles. I 
heard him inhale the crack. I was somewhat unprepared 
for his gentleness.

Then another slap landed.

It landed hard on the left side of my upturned face.

< THWACK THWACK >

My soft white features were being battered by a series 
of harshly delivered 'bitch slaps'. I lost contact with 
Lance's amazingly hard cock. I looked downward. I was 
now softly crying. Lance snickered. He was obviously 
pleased with my overt display of pride-less submission 
to his towering black superiority.

"P-please, sir don't hurt me." I begged tearfully.

Lance let out a particularly loud laugh at this. White 
boy sissies always begged for mercy and got none from 
Lance.

Lance took great pleasure in stripping away any and all 
pride from genuflecting cocksucking white boys that 
came his way. I had learned that lesson back on the 5th 
tier. I felt a slow warm trickle of blood drip from my 
nose. I wiped it away with a trembling left hand. The 
bright fresh red blood and my pale white skin made a 
dramatic study in contrast. I took care none found its 
way down upon Jane's new beige carpet.

Lance brusquely yanked my head upward. He Jammed his 
extremely hard cock deep into my open and waiting 
mouth. He was bringing it home now I saw.

His hips pistoned into my receptive wet mouth. Lance 
was all fury and speed now. He rammed about seven 
inches of steel hard ebony cock into my throat. The 
remaining three inches or so I gripped with my bloody 
left hand.

My gold wedding band was now covered in my drying 
blood. I alternately took in deep draughts of fresh air 
and gagged. I softly massaged Lance's balls with my 
free right hand. I was naked, on my knees, in my 
bedroom fully occupied sucking and worshipping this big 
nigger's cock. My relatively modest white boy wee wee 
grew ever stiffer. I made sure to delve my tongue into 
Lance's pee-hole. He had always demanded this back on 
the 5th tier. I hadn't forgotten.

"Yeah work that tongue white boy... right into my piss 
slit like a good fag." Lance encouraged.

My breath came haltingly. More bitch slaps to my face 
were smartly delivered. I continued to sob. I cried 
from residual fear, sexual excitement, and reasons I 
cannot fathom. Lance always grew harder still at the 
sight of white boy tears.

Lance gently pulled both my hands up. He held both in 
his one hand above my head. He crouched slightly. He 
took a deep drag on his crack pipe. Then with 
unprecedented ferocity Lance fucked my face. It can't 
be described any differently. My mouth was being 
pierced and stabbed. My throat was being assaulted by a 
black steel pipe. My two soft white hands felt for 
Lance's hard black chest. I looked up and into Lance's 
eyes.

He was quite high I noticed. Lance spit hard into my 
face several times. I didn't look away. He let go of my 
two hands. They fell limply onto his strong manly legs. 
He was now pulling my mouth onto his terribly hard cock 
by placing both of his giant black hands on the back of 
my head and sharply shoving me forward. He was doing 
all the work now. I remained motionless. My mouth was 
being speared and raped.

"Aghhhh." Lance yelled out. "Ride that python, bitch." 
he spat derisively.

His suddenly incontinent cock let out an explosive 
forceful rope stream of highly viscous semen deep into 
my throat. My mouth was quickly flooded with his 
custardy male discharge. My penis jerked and started. I 
emitted my own smallish squirt upon my smooth abdomen 
and thighs.

I have always come without benefit of manipulation 
whilst sucking Lance's enormous cock. I jerked off the 
few remaining droplets from my rapidly softening penis. 
My orgasm was very intense, toe curling and deeply 
felt. It represented my sense of self satisfaction at a 
job done well.

Lance grabbed his still hard cock and slapped me across 
the face with it. He squeezed out the last few gobs of 
semen onto my eyes and nose. He took another deep drag 
on his pipe. I remained on my knees. I closed my eyes 
and opened my semen filled mouth wide;

Not allowing any of its content down my gullet. I 
looked like a baby bird just fed by its mama.

I was showing Lance I had taken his full load. 

Lance looked down at me and smiling said. "Swallow it 
Dukie baby, swallow my nigger cum."

I gulped the cock custard down in one exhibitionistic 
swallow. 

Lance laughed one of his magnificent laughs. Some 
sticky residue dripped from the corners of my mouth. 
Lance scooped it up with his big black index finger. 

I opened my eyes to see the stuff dripping from his 
extended finger. 

I hungrily licked and lapped it once again showing 
Lance how far I had fallen from being a prideful man. I 
desperately needed to demonstrate to this black god I 
was a thoroughly cowed and obedient white boy. 

I was spent.

Lance turned and walked towards the bathroom. I 
couldn't help but admire his tight ebony buns as he 
strutted authoritatively naked across my bedroom. 

Lance was now pissing and smoking simultaneously. Quite 
clever actually. 

I arose slowly. Lance threw me a wet washcloth. 

"That was an outstanding and proper performance Dukie." 
Lance said sincerely.

"Thanks." is all I could muster. 

We briefly discussed how we would both prepare for 
Jane's arrival. How we would tidy up and get rid of the 
tell tale evidence of our interlude of debauchery. 

I sprayed the house with Fabreze and opened all the 
windows allowing frigid winter air in. 

Tupac blared in the background. Lance had insisted we 
listen to his favorite rap songs on my stereo.

I smiled as I walked past the bedroom wall mirror. I 
saw how my tiny pecker had shrunk even further in 
response to the now cold air. 

I couldn't help an A B comparison with Lance's now 
detumescent cock. His was no less than five inches and 
extravagantly veined. Mine was less than two inches and 
still shrinking.

It was the incredibly shrinking winky. 

Was this the reason Lance was a black MAN and I was a 
white BOY?

I joined Lance in the bathroom. 

We both were pissing in the sink. Here under bright 
illumination our two male generative organs were in an 
obvious comparative tableau. 

"Wonder why God was so good to us niggers and so 
friggin cheap to you white boys." Lance laughed. 

"I don't know but he sure short changed this boy." I 
replied. 

"I know of one white girl who was short changed too 
Dukie." Lance chortled ominously.

Lance showered first.

As I alighted from my shower I saw Lance sitting and 
smoking on the toilet bowl. American Standard by the 
way. 

I went to grab a dry towel. Lance pulled me towards 
him. I stumbled and giggling fell into his lap. 

"You sure be one sick muthafucka." Lance declared.

I could only blush and stutter in agreement.

"Just how freaky are you willin to get son?" Lance 
inquired. 

Lance gave my buttcheeks a playful smack as he waited 
my response. 

My weenie grew rigid. I arched an eyebrow as I said "I 
guess we'll see, we'll see."

Lance nibbled my ear as he prepared his pipe for 
another hit.

I got on all fours. I placed a reverential kiss between 
all ten of Lance's toes.

I girlishly slapped at Lance's massive muscular chest. 
Lance smiled appreciatively at my display of effete 
submission. My effeminate limp wristed mock slaps 
caused my penis to grow to its full five inch length. 
Lance wrapped his preposterously huge black forearms 
around my smooth white shoulders. He slipped a mammoth 
arm up and around my skinny neck.

I placed both of my hands on his one left forearm. I 
instantly knew if I had any idea of breaking free it 
would end in stinging failure. I was impotent at 
protecting myself physically from this magnificent 
brute of a man. He could snap my neck like one would a 
chicken's.

His forearm muscles rippled like snakes in a sack. I 
thrilled at the sight. 

The boa constrictor was slowly asserting its control 
and mastery over my slight white naked body. Lance 
casually held me in a vice like grip. He busied himself 
with the rituals of the crack pipe with his free hand. 

I was experiencing a contact high. Lance almost 
imperceptibly increased the pressure on my neck. 

in my full length bathroom mirror I could see both of 
our naked bodies. Lance with one hand was imposing his 
will on his white victim. My pale frail white frame 
went utterly limp as I succumbed to nigger superiority. 
My penis remained up and erect. I looked much like prey 
in a great beast's death grip.

I closed my eyes and allowed my arms to slowly fall to 
my sides. 

A heartfelt moan escaped my opened mouth.

"Okay okay." I cried in a muffled tone.

My dick grew to its absolute hardest.

I saw the plastic toilet brush out of the corner of my 
right eye. Lance chuckled deeply.

I felt Lance's thick black rubbery flaccid cock brush 
against my smooth white ass cheeks.

"What are ya gonna do with that." I gently inquired.

"Guess." Lance replied.

I felt the smooth plastic handle enter my anus. I 
grimaced and let out a breath. Lance disengaged his arm 
from my neck.

I slowly leaned over and grabbed my ankles. Lance 
slowly worked the eighteen inch brush handle into my 
asshole. 

I squirmed and wiggled submissively. Lance continued to 
laugh. I was being sodomized and wasn't objecting even 
in a perfunctory manner.

I quite deliberately pulled my asscheeks apart.

Surprisingly the pain was modest and bearable. 

Back on the 5th Tier Lance had introduced me to being 
sodomized with inanimate objects. I knew he loved to 
see white boys looking ridiculous. I got a wicked 
thrill from submitting to Lance's delightfully nasty 
wishes. 

"Now walk around for me baby." Lance laughed.

I sashayed out of the bathroom.

I saw my ludicrous reflection in the mirror. The brush 
sticking out of my posterior looked like an absurd tail 
on an even more absurd animal. 

I knew what Lance wanted to see.

I shimmied and shook. I wiggled my ass. I paraded up 
and down and up again my hallway and bathroom floors. 
We both laughed at my predicament. I was pleased my 
lewd behavior made Lance laugh. 

"Over here baby." Lance intoned seriously.

He was sprawled naked on my marital bed. 

Motioning me downward he continued his deep 
inhalations. I sank to my knees. I jutted my ass up and 
out. I didn't want to sit for fear of lacerating my 
already pain ridden colon. 

Lance looked at my new tail in the mirror and smiled.

Without fanfare or hesitation I began to slather the 
hard black cock before me. 

"You missed daddy's big nigger meat didntya?" Lance 
asked.

"Mmm mmm." I managed through a full mouth.

Lance moved up further on my marriage bed.

He pulled his tumescent cock upwards. He exposed his 
smooth black asshole.

"Toss the salad." Lance explained

I closed my eyes and sighed.

I darted my tongue directly into the acrid crevice. I 
was salivating profusely. Lance pulled his knees up. He 
separated them. 

"That's a good little white boy." Lance said 
encouragingly. 

I made small kisses all along Lance's tight firm 
asscheeks. I ended my small kisses with the flourish of 
placing my warm wet tongue firm and deep into his 
bunghole. 

I shook my ass now and again. Lance muttered in amused 
satisfaction.

I stayed within this process for no less than an hour. 
The smoke prevented a full and meaningful erection for 
Lance.

I relieved my sexual tension manually. I spurted my 
small ejaculation on my hand. I knew Lance loved to see 
white boys lap up their own cum. I did.

I bent over deeply as Lance stood. I kissed both of his 
feet. I kissed all ten toes on and between. Lance 
kicked at my face. He slowly walked into my guestroom.

I spent some time in tidying up. I pulled the dirty 
bathroom brush from my very sore ass. My high was 
wearing off.

I went back to my bedroom. I watched the room brighten 
with dawn's light. I watched a breeze stir the lace 
curtains into a ghostly dance. I felt my stomach 
tighten. My breath came hard and shallow. I watched the 
curtains move slowly. I wept and fell into a fitful 
dream driven sleep.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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