Wrong Text to My Phone PT2 Gay
- 3 years ago
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Wrong Text To My Phone Gay free porn video
It was a normal day; a normal boring day like every other day, when I got a text.
Hungry for cock, cocksucker?
I stared at it for a minute; it was from a number I didn't recognize.
I texted back:
I think you have the wrong number.
I figured that was the end of it, but he texted back a couple minutes later:
I guess it's your lucky day then.
I texted back:
Sorry, man, I'm not gay.
I returned to playing Xbox when I should have been studying for next week's midterms.
To my surprise, he texted back again:
Are you white?
What a strange question! I don't know why I responded, but I did.
Yeah, why does that matter?
He responded back not with words, but a picture.
I gasped.
It was a close-up photo of a big, black, hairless, hard, throbbing cock.
Well okay, I couldn't tell from the photo whether it was throbbing, but from the impact it made on me, it must have been! I wasn't expecting that!
I wasn't remotely gay. I had a pretty cheerleader girlfriend, although I had only been with a few women in my life.
I had never once even considered another guy. No daydreams, no passing fancies, no 'I wonder ifs'... not a sausage. So to speak.
Yet, I couldn't take my eyes off that cock.
It was a minute later when another text came.
Drooling, cocksucker?
The question and name calling brought me back to reality.
I responded:
Not interested.
He texted back:
When you change your mind, and you will, text me. Although I already have quite a long list of white boy cocksuckers... so you better hurry.
I shook my head. The idea that a bunch of white guys sucked black cock was ridiculous.
What bothered me was that my dick was hard, and my head was still swimming from that photo.
WTF!!!
I didn't respond, no point encouraging him any further, and returned to playing Call of Duty.
Yet as I played, I couldn't get that black cock out of my head.
I grabbed my laptop, logged on and went to my favourite site to jerk off: Literotica.
This time though I didn't go to my usual favourite authors or to the New page, but instead to the search engine.
After a few searches, I found some stories about black cock. The first one I read was as brazen as what had just occurred to me... it was called 'Becoming a Cock Slave' by John Hamilton, where a straight guy picks up a black guy, and before he knows it he isn't so straight anymore.
I don't know why this turned me on. In the past it was always lesbian, group and even i****t... the more taboo the more it turned me on (even though I was a guy and would never be a lesbian and I had no sexual interest in my mother or sister).
Nevertheless, as I read a few stories of white men submitting to black cock, I was becoming intrigued.
As I was reading my fifth story in a row about white cocksuckers, I got another text.
Cocksucker,
I'm horny and can't seem to get hold of any of my cocksuckers.
You have fifteen minutes to be in the last stall, in the guy's washroom, on the top floor of the engineering building.
It's now or never cocksucker.
Come and get some dark chocolate.
I stared at the message.
I scrolled up to look at the big cock again.
My hard cock flinched; my mouth salivated.
I wanted to suck his cock.
But want and reality are very different.
I also wanted to fuck my girlfriend in the ass, but there was no chance in hell.
I pondered the mindset of the straight white men I'd just read about submitting to black cock.
They were all like me.
Straight.
They were attracted to women.
Not remotely gay-curious.
Until they suddenly became very curious.
They denied their hunger.
They argued with their sexuality and moral fibre.
They fought the urge to submit and cross the invisible line between straight and less than straight.
Yet, in the end all of those guys in the stories dropped to their knees; they all took black cock in their mouth; and they all became addicted submissive white cocksuckers for black cock. Did that only happen in fiction, or...?
I googled white cock. I looked at a few pictures of a variety of sizes and they did nothing for me.
I googled black cock. There too was a variety of sizes, and yet regardless of the size there was something majestic, something hypnotic, that drew me in like a moth to a flame.
Another text:
You better be on your way, cocksucker. I'm giving you right of first refusal and then I'll go and find another white boy who thinks he's straight.
Get here now. This is a once in a lifetime offer.
Before I even knew it, I was putting my shoes on. Even as I started walking to the washroom, only ten or twelve minutes from my dorm room, I wasn't sure I was going to do it.
My erect cock led the way as I felt my body ruling my mind.
My mind, meanwhile, kept yanking my sleeve, reminding me of a few facts:
1. I wasn't gay.
2. I had a girlfriend. A pretty, hot, adventurous, blonde girlfriend with an exotic name.
3. I didn't go out of my way for casual sex regardless of the race.
4. I didn't suck cock.
5. I was completely straight.
Yet I kept walking towards that washroom, now walking into the engineering building.
A strange excitement rushed through me like when I bought a new video game. The initial excitement of buying the game, rushing home, unwrapping the cellophane and putting it in the console was always exhilarating.
Undeniably I felt the exact same emotions (the 'oh boy' ones), which only added to my indecision.
I ran up the stairs two at a time, my body and mind at continued odds with each other. Although truth be told, my mind wasn't helping me slow down any with the photo of the black cock still fresh in my head.
I couldn't explain it, but as I reached the top floor, my mind gave in by justifying, 'why not find out if you like it...it's only one time and if it turns you off, no harm done.'
That last thought sounded pretty reassuring, so I finally felt somewhat calm at my decision to walk into the washroom and go to the stall that I'd been invited/ordered to, even though an hour and a half ago the thought of up close and personal with a black cock had never even entered my mind.
My decision still made no sense to me. I had never once considered a man attractive except in the sense of unfair competition, nor had I ever considered the thought that cocksucking might be appealing.
Yet there I was, willingly and under my own steam about to enter a washroom at ten o'clock on a Friday night to try just that.
As the door to the washroom came into view I paused briefly.
Was I really going to do this?
As I did, I saw a nerdy looking white student enter the washroom.
This gave me even more pause. I sure didn't want anyone seeing me do what I was considering doing.
I turned around and started to leave.
Yet, as I reached the door to the stairwell I again stopped.
The black cock refused to leave my head.
The black cock was seemingly calling my name and sucking me in... or inviting me to vice versa.
The black cock was calling out to me to take the risk.
I knew if I didn't do this I would always wonder; I might always regret it. Of course regretting having done it was another possibility.
I sighed, before I again turned around and headed to the washroom. I would just act casual and head to the stall as if I were doing something routine.
I entered the bathroom and was surprised to see the soles of a pair of shoes in the next to last stall and as I leaned down a bit, sure enough, I saw a second pair in the standing position.
My first feeling was disappointment. An intense rush of disappointment. I was too late.
I then realized that this wasn't the stall I'd been instructed to enter. I quickly headed to the open last stall and closed the door behind me. It was empty. Now what?
As I stood there waiting, I listened as a conversation began.
"Back again, cocksucker?" a voice said... the undeniably rich voice of a confident black man.
"Yes sir," a voice responded, obviously the nerdy guy I'd watched entering the washroom a minute before me.
"You want my black cock?" the dominant voice asked.
"Yes sir, I do," the guy responded.
"And you left your girlfriend to come and suck cock?"
"Yes sir."
"Why?"
"I needed your cock."
"More than your girlfriend's pussy?"
"Yes sir."
"What if I came all over your face and made you go back to her with my special present?"
"I'd do it, but I'd prefer you didn't make me."
"I love cock hungry, obedient, supposedly straight white cocksuckers," the black guy laughed.
I then heard clear slobbering sounds.
The white guy was sucking the black guy.
It was then I noticed that there was a small hole, cock size (a glory hole?).
I knew I shouldn't.
Yet I couldn't resist.
I knelt down onto my knees and peeked through the hole.
The hole was at the perfect height to see the big thick cock pumping in and out of the guy's mouth.
My already hard cock flinched.
My mouth watered.
I realized my eyes were at the exact same level as the cocksucker's mouth.
I was on my knees.
Directly in front of his cock.
My mouth open.
Available.
I watched in complete voyeuristic awe for a minute, maybe two, this act easily the hottest thing I'd ever seen.
Maybe it was the taboo of gay sex.
Maybe it was the taboo of interracial gay sex.
Maybe it was the dominant versus submissive thing.
Maybe it was the voyeuristic rush of watching it live from two feet away.
Or maybe it was simply the moment at hand and the fact I hadn't come in a week... my girlfriend on her period... and when she was she had no interest... not even a blow job. Her attitude was simple: if she wasn't getting any sex, neither was I.
The slobbering sounds and the balls bouncing off the obviously experienced cocksucker's chin only enhanced the surreal experience.
Suddenly the black guy said, pulling his long cock out of the guy's mouth and shoving it in the hole I was watching from, "We have a peeping Tom. The price for watching is sucking, cocksucker."
Hungry for cock, cocksucker?
I stared at it for a minute; it was from a number I didn't recognize.
I texted back:
I think you have the wrong number.
I figured that was the end of it, but he texted back a couple minutes later:
I guess it's your lucky day then.
I texted back:
Sorry, man, I'm not gay.
I returned to playing Xbox when I should have been studying for next week's midterms.
To my surprise, he texted back again:
Are you white?
What a strange question! I don't know why I responded, but I did.
Yeah, why does that matter?
He responded back not with words, but a picture.
I gasped.
It was a close-up photo of a big, black, hairless, hard, throbbing cock.
Well okay, I couldn't tell from the photo whether it was throbbing, but from the impact it made on me, it must have been! I wasn't expecting that!
I wasn't remotely gay. I had a pretty cheerleader girlfriend, although I had only been with a few women in my life.
I had never once even considered another guy. No daydreams, no passing fancies, no 'I wonder ifs'... not a sausage. So to speak.
Yet, I couldn't take my eyes off that cock.
It was a minute later when another text came.
Drooling, cocksucker?
The question and name calling brought me back to reality.
I responded:
Not interested.
He texted back:
When you change your mind, and you will, text me. Although I already have quite a long list of white boy cocksuckers... so you better hurry.
I shook my head. The idea that a bunch of white guys sucked black cock was ridiculous.
What bothered me was that my dick was hard, and my head was still swimming from that photo.
WTF!!!
I didn't respond, no point encouraging him any further, and returned to playing Call of Duty.
Yet as I played, I couldn't get that black cock out of my head.
I grabbed my laptop, logged on and went to my favourite site to jerk off: Literotica.
This time though I didn't go to my usual favourite authors or to the New page, but instead to the search engine.
After a few searches, I found some stories about black cock. The first one I read was as brazen as what had just occurred to me... it was called 'Becoming a Cock Slave' by John Hamilton, where a straight guy picks up a black guy, and before he knows it he isn't so straight anymore.
I don't know why this turned me on. In the past it was always lesbian, group and even i****t... the more taboo the more it turned me on (even though I was a guy and would never be a lesbian and I had no sexual interest in my mother or sister).
Nevertheless, as I read a few stories of white men submitting to black cock, I was becoming intrigued.
As I was reading my fifth story in a row about white cocksuckers, I got another text.
Cocksucker,
I'm horny and can't seem to get hold of any of my cocksuckers.
You have fifteen minutes to be in the last stall, in the guy's washroom, on the top floor of the engineering building.
It's now or never cocksucker.
Come and get some dark chocolate.
I stared at the message.
I scrolled up to look at the big cock again.
My hard cock flinched; my mouth salivated.
I wanted to suck his cock.
But want and reality are very different.
I also wanted to fuck my girlfriend in the ass, but there was no chance in hell.
I pondered the mindset of the straight white men I'd just read about submitting to black cock.
They were all like me.
Straight.
They were attracted to women.
Not remotely gay-curious.
Until they suddenly became very curious.
They denied their hunger.
They argued with their sexuality and moral fibre.
They fought the urge to submit and cross the invisible line between straight and less than straight.
Yet, in the end all of those guys in the stories dropped to their knees; they all took black cock in their mouth; and they all became addicted submissive white cocksuckers for black cock. Did that only happen in fiction, or...?
I googled white cock. I looked at a few pictures of a variety of sizes and they did nothing for me.
I googled black cock. There too was a variety of sizes, and yet regardless of the size there was something majestic, something hypnotic, that drew me in like a moth to a flame.
Another text:
You better be on your way, cocksucker. I'm giving you right of first refusal and then I'll go and find another white boy who thinks he's straight.
Get here now. This is a once in a lifetime offer.
Before I even knew it, I was putting my shoes on. Even as I started walking to the washroom, only ten or twelve minutes from my dorm room, I wasn't sure I was going to do it.
My erect cock led the way as I felt my body ruling my mind.
My mind, meanwhile, kept yanking my sleeve, reminding me of a few facts:
1. I wasn't gay.
2. I had a girlfriend. A pretty, hot, adventurous, blonde girlfriend with an exotic name.
3. I didn't go out of my way for casual sex regardless of the race.
4. I didn't suck cock.
5. I was completely straight.
Yet I kept walking towards that washroom, now walking into the engineering building.
A strange excitement rushed through me like when I bought a new video game. The initial excitement of buying the game, rushing home, unwrapping the cellophane and putting it in the console was always exhilarating.
Undeniably I felt the exact same emotions (the 'oh boy' ones), which only added to my indecision.
I ran up the stairs two at a time, my body and mind at continued odds with each other. Although truth be told, my mind wasn't helping me slow down any with the photo of the black cock still fresh in my head.
I couldn't explain it, but as I reached the top floor, my mind gave in by justifying, 'why not find out if you like it...it's only one time and if it turns you off, no harm done.'
That last thought sounded pretty reassuring, so I finally felt somewhat calm at my decision to walk into the washroom and go to the stall that I'd been invited/ordered to, even though an hour and a half ago the thought of up close and personal with a black cock had never even entered my mind.
My decision still made no sense to me. I had never once considered a man attractive except in the sense of unfair competition, nor had I ever considered the thought that cocksucking might be appealing.
Yet there I was, willingly and under my own steam about to enter a washroom at ten o'clock on a Friday night to try just that.
As the door to the washroom came into view I paused briefly.
Was I really going to do this?
As I did, I saw a nerdy looking white student enter the washroom.
This gave me even more pause. I sure didn't want anyone seeing me do what I was considering doing.
I turned around and started to leave.
Yet, as I reached the door to the stairwell I again stopped.
The black cock refused to leave my head.
The black cock was seemingly calling my name and sucking me in... or inviting me to vice versa.
The black cock was calling out to me to take the risk.
I knew if I didn't do this I would always wonder; I might always regret it. Of course regretting having done it was another possibility.
I sighed, before I again turned around and headed to the washroom. I would just act casual and head to the stall as if I were doing something routine.
I entered the bathroom and was surprised to see the soles of a pair of shoes in the next to last stall and as I leaned down a bit, sure enough, I saw a second pair in the standing position.
My first feeling was disappointment. An intense rush of disappointment. I was too late.
I then realized that this wasn't the stall I'd been instructed to enter. I quickly headed to the open last stall and closed the door behind me. It was empty. Now what?
As I stood there waiting, I listened as a conversation began.
"Back again, cocksucker?" a voice said... the undeniably rich voice of a confident black man.
"Yes sir," a voice responded, obviously the nerdy guy I'd watched entering the washroom a minute before me.
"You want my black cock?" the dominant voice asked.
"Yes sir, I do," the guy responded.
"And you left your girlfriend to come and suck cock?"
"Yes sir."
"Why?"
"I needed your cock."
"More than your girlfriend's pussy?"
"Yes sir."
"What if I came all over your face and made you go back to her with my special present?"
"I'd do it, but I'd prefer you didn't make me."
"I love cock hungry, obedient, supposedly straight white cocksuckers," the black guy laughed.
I then heard clear slobbering sounds.
The white guy was sucking the black guy.
It was then I noticed that there was a small hole, cock size (a glory hole?).
I knew I shouldn't.
Yet I couldn't resist.
I knelt down onto my knees and peeked through the hole.
The hole was at the perfect height to see the big thick cock pumping in and out of the guy's mouth.
My already hard cock flinched.
My mouth watered.
I realized my eyes were at the exact same level as the cocksucker's mouth.
I was on my knees.
Directly in front of his cock.
My mouth open.
Available.
I watched in complete voyeuristic awe for a minute, maybe two, this act easily the hottest thing I'd ever seen.
Maybe it was the taboo of gay sex.
Maybe it was the taboo of interracial gay sex.
Maybe it was the dominant versus submissive thing.
Maybe it was the voyeuristic rush of watching it live from two feet away.
Or maybe it was simply the moment at hand and the fact I hadn't come in a week... my girlfriend on her period... and when she was she had no interest... not even a blow job. Her attitude was simple: if she wasn't getting any sex, neither was I.
The slobbering sounds and the balls bouncing off the obviously experienced cocksucker's chin only enhanced the surreal experience.
Suddenly the black guy said, pulling his long cock out of the guy's mouth and shoving it in the hole I was watching from, "We have a peeping Tom. The price for watching is sucking, cocksucker."
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