BEA S FIRST GANG BANG PART 1
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Leave It To Bea - Part Two free porn video
Part Two
It had been over a year since my last encounter with Rick when I met
Stewart in a sophomore mechanical engineering study group. He was 26,
five years my senior, and was an international student from Tanzania.
Stewart had very black skin, was taller than me by about four inches, and
was slender but very well-built. Which, of course, I didn't notice
(consciously, anyway.) I was dating a girl at the time, and a
relationship with a guy was the farthest thing from my mind. As the
class and our study group went on, I did think Stewart was a nice guy.
He was good at engineering, better than me, and he helped me a lot to
understand the concepts. He also had a very self-deprecating sense of
humor, and was always making jokes about being the unsophisticated
foreigner in the big American city (which, considering that we lived in
El Paso, was kind of a joke all by itself.) He had been in the U.S. for
a little over a year. His English was pretty good, but he would always
make a joke when he flubbed an English word or figure of speech. It was
fun to help him learn English slang, and together, we figured out that
there were some commonly used expressions that, when uttered by a coal
black, mid-twenties man with a Swahili accent, just weren't practical.
Like, "whole 'nother thing," or "fixin' to eat." He figured out how to
use those expressions to break through some of those social barriers that
people from another culture always face. I didn't know many
international students, and truth be told, I had never had that many
black friends. I wasn't prejudiced, but growing up in a mostly white
suburb and graduating from an almost all-white high school hadn't given
me much opportunity. Stewart was just a cool, funny guy that helped me
with homework that I liked and who seemed to like me. He helped me with
engineering and I helped him with living among Texans.
I wound up with a B in our class, thanks in large part to Stewart's help.
He was fitting in more socially, thanks in part to me, and we became more
comfortable with each other's company. He stopped being "Stewart, my
Tanzanian friend," and became just "Stewart." I had a part-time job to
cover expenses, and when the semester ended, over winter break, I went
home to see my folks for a couple of days but came back to El Paso to
work. I had a part-time job at a local camera and video store. During
breaks between classes, I could work longer hours, and the extra pay
helped cover expenses. The dorms were still closed, and I needed a place
to crash for a couple of weeks. Luckily, Stewart had an apartment and
was happy to let me crash on his couch.
We talked a lot over those two weeks. With no distractions of classes,
we had long talks about what it was like to grow up in America, and what
it was like to grow up in Tanzania. During one of those conversations,
Stewart told me about the strict marriage traditions in his home. Young
men in Tanzania were forbidden to have any physical relations with
females before marriage. Stewart told me that, with all that pent-up
sexual tension, one of the less-publicized "traditions" in his country
was for some young men to adopt the female role in pre-marital
relationships. He said that it was tacitly accepted for young, unmarried
men to have physical relations, and that these relationships usually
ended casually after courting began.
Stewart knew as well as anyone about West Texas attitudes toward same-sex
relationships, and I realized that he was giving me a lot of trust by
telling me about this. I asked Stewart if he had ever had a relationship
with another man, and he said that he had never had a physical
relationship with a man or a woman. Damn! A 26-year-old virgin? But
then he asked me if I had ever had a relationship with a man. Even
though he had just told me about how his society accepted such
relationships, and he asked me the question casually, I still hesitated
answering. Maybe my hesitation said all that needed to be said. After a
few moments, I realized that Stewart knew the answer.
"What was it like?" he asked, in a completely accepting and nonjudgmental
way. I guess he had trusted me, so it was time to trust him.
"There was a guy I knew in high school, and we fooled around a little
bit."
"What did you do with each other?"
"He would come over, and we'd fool around. I'd... I sucked him."
"Wow. Did he ever suck you?"
"No."
"Did you ever do anything else?"
"Yeah..."
"Did he...fuck you?"
"Well... Yeah..." My head was spinning. I was admitting my deepest,
darkest secret to Stewart. Part of me was waiting for him to throw me
out of his apartment, but he just took it all in, more curious than
anything, and not being judgmental at all.
"So...you were the girl, then."
"Yeah, I guess so..." And I admitted that it hadn't been a one-time
thing, and that it had gone on for several years.
"You'd fit right in in Tanzania!" he chuckled. He told me about some of
the boys he had known back home that had been with other guys, and
mentioned that guys who took the exclusively feminine role in
relationships were highly sought after by other young men. After that, he
got up, got us both a Coke, and sat back down on the couch. We watched a
little more TV, and didn't say much more about it.
That night, I couldn't sleep. I had just admitted that I had had sex
with a boy, as a girl, to another man (although I hadn't mentioned the
crossdressing.) What was he going to think about me? Would he reject me
as a friend? It didn't seem to bother him. And in the back of my mind,
there was the growing awareness of Stewart as a man. How tall he was,
and how black his skin was, and what his body looked like, and
wondering...barely admitting to myself that I was wondering, what he
looked like...between his legs.
Over the next few days, living with Stewart, I couldn't detect any change
in his behavior toward me. He still treated me the way he always had.
It was kind of making me crazy! I had admitted my deepest, darkest
secret to him, and he had just...taken it all in! We continued to go to
work, come home and eat, and watch TV. At the same time, I found myself
noticing the way he walked, the sound of his voice, and even the way he
smelled. I started noticing him physically a lot more than I was
comfortable with.
One night, a few days later, I decided to cook us a meal. Carne asada,
mexican rice, and refried beans with tortillas. I knew a little bit
about cooking, and that was my strongest menu. Stewart really liked it.
He chowed down, asked for seconds, and sat back with a satisfied smile.
"You're going to make some lucky man a fine little wife some day!"
"Oh, I am, huh?" I replied.
"Well, you can sure cook. I don't know about the rest..."
"What do you mean 'the rest' ?" I asked.
"Well... You must have made that guy back home pretty happy."
"He didn't have any complaints."
Stewart didn't say anything else, but he got up and helped me clean up
the dishes. Maybe it was just my heightened awareness of him, but he
seemed to be lingering around me a lot. I could feel him standing right
next to me, or right behind me, while I cleaned up. I was wearing old
cut offs, kind of tight, and cut kind of high, and when I bent over to
put some dishes in the dishwasher, I turned back around to see him
staring at me. Suddenly, those old familiar feelings of Rick telling me
what a cute girl's butt I had came back to me. I wasn't uncomfortable
with Stewart staring at me.
"What are you looking at, buddy?" I asked in a lighthearted but
challenging tone.
"I'm checking out your booty, girlie-boy," he said, just as
lightheartedly.
"Oh you are, are you?" I wiped my hands dry, and walked over and stood
right in front of him, close. "And what do you think?" I asked softly.
He didn't answer. I took hold of his wrists, pulled his hands around my
waist, and placed them right on the back of my butt. Then I put my arms
over his shoulders.
"Well?" I whispered.
His hands started kneading my buns, and I moved closer, right up against
him. I could feel a lump in his sweats pressing against my waist. I
looked up, right into his eyes. He lowered his head toward me and kissed
me.
Rick and I had never kissed. It was strange, considering everything else
we had done, but kissing was somehow too intimate. I had never kissed
another man, but here I was with my arms around Stewart, our lips
touching. He had thick, warm, full lips, and when they parted slightly,
I opened my mouth and let his tongue slip into my mouth.
I lost my sense of balance. I was suddenly dizzy, but I didn't fall.
Stewart's strong arms held me tight, and I just surrendered to him, and
to the moment. Just like it had been with Rick, I could feel my
masculinity slipping away, but this was far more profound. I was
hyperconscious of the texture of Stewart's skin, his aroma, the contours
of his jawline, and nose, and the feel of his hair as we kissed. He
caressed by bottom, and nuzzled my neck, and nibbled on my earlobes, and
kissed my face, and eyes, and then kissed me deeply again. It had never
been like this when I kissed a girl. I had kissed them. But Stewart was
kissing me...possessing me...taking control of me. I gave myself up to
him and let his hands roam over me.
"Let's go to bed."
I don't even remember who said it, but we went into the bedroom and lay
down next to each other. There was no hurry, we just lay there and
explored. Stanley was gentle, but insistent. His hands roamed over me,
and mine over him. He helped me off with my shirt, then my shorts.
Lying side by side, he undid my shorts and started pulling my shorts
down. He ran a hand over my butt, and I guess that's when he discovered
that I was wearing panties. He felt the nylon, and his hand started
fondling the lace waistband of my panties. He stopped nibbling on my
ear, drew back from me, and looked at me laying there, dressed in nothing
but a pair of little pink nylon panties with lace trim at the waist and
legs. I watched him closely for a reaction. He turned me over onto my
stomach and just stared at my ass, rubbing my panty-covered buns gently.
I heard him take the rest of his clothes off, and he lay on top of me,
and I felt his cock nestle between my buns. I couldn't see it, but it
felt big. He began kissing the back of my neck, and massaging my
shoulders and arms.
Stanley raised himself up, and I turned over to face him. He had a
gentle smile on his face. He leaned down and began kissing my tummy, and
I moaned as I just melted all over again. I spread my legs and wrapped
them around his torso, and ran my fingers through his hair. I wanted
him. More than I had ever wanted Rick. With Rick, it had been more
about me acting like a girl, stepping outside my "expected" gender role.
But this wasn't just about me. This was about this big, masculine man
who was caressing me, kissing me, controlling me, taking over my body and
my mind, and me giving up myself in acknowledgment of his power, his
manliness. I wanted him inside me. I wanted to feel him on me, and in
me. That's when he did what I least expected. He took hold of the
waistband of my panties, pulled them off, leaned over, and without any
hesitation, slipped my cock into his mouth. It was ecstasy. I cried out
and my body convulsed, and I grabbed on to his head as he sucked me. It
was better than any girl I had ever had, and he took complete control of
me. I didn't last long. After a couple of minutes, I felt myself on the
brink, and I warned him that I was getting close. He pulled off and
began stroking me, and my whole body turned inside out as I came all over
my chest and tummy.
With Rick, right after coming, that was when the guilt would start to set
in. He and I had always had an awkward moment after we came, as the
reality of the "forbidden" thing we had done set in. Now I waited for
that guilt to set in again, but I just felt...peaceful. Stanley chuckled
in that deep voice of his. He ran a finger through the pool of cum on my
tummy, then spread my buns, and began probing his lubricated finger
around my hole. When he slowly slipped his finger into me, I started
getting hard all over again.
Stanley moved back up to me and kissed me, keeping that evil, naughty
finger of his probing into my opening. I wrapped my arms and legs around
him, slipped my tongue into his mouth, and reveled in the feeling of him
all over me. After a few minutes, I was just overloaded with pleasure.
I wanted to pleasure him. Again I was reminded of how different this was
from when I had been with Rick. I desperately wanted to please Stanley;
my needs were secondary. I pulled away from him and moved down his body,
and for the first time, I actually saw his cock. It was enormous. Rick
had been average; his cock looked like mine, about six inches long. But
Stanley's cock was at least eight inches long and thick. I was worried
how my ass was ever going to handle it. But I wasn't going to worry
about that now... For now, I just nibbled on his ball sack. I inhaled
the scent of him, musky, peppery, manly. I licked the crease between his
scrotum and his leg, tasting his sweat. Then I moved to the thick base
of his cock, licking, stroking, kissing, and sucking. I ran my tongue up
and along his shaft. Stanley was uncircumcised, and it made his cock
look so big. I pulled the skin back, exposing the head of his penis, and
kissed all over the tip. Then I took the second penis of my life into my
mouth. I was definitely a cocksucker. I loved the feeling of his cock
slipping between my lips, feeling the silky smoothness of his skin and
the rock hardness beneath.
Stanley didn't even last as long as I had. After only a few moments, he
grabbed my head, and his hips began to buck, and he unloaded into my
mouth. The first jet hit the back of my throat and I almost choked, but
I wanted his cum, and I swallowed even as the second jet began filling my
mouth again. The smell and taste of his cum filled my head and made me
dizzy, and I swallowed him again. I wanted his maleness, his essence,
inside me, and I took in every drop. As he subsided, I sucked along the
length of his shaft one last time, savoring the salty, musky taste of
him, feeling the globs of his semen moving down my throat into my
stomach.
We were both spent. I moved up to him and snuggled against him face to
face, and we kissed again. We hadn't spoken a word for half an hour, and
Stanley had never said a word about discovering me wearing panties, and
he didn't now. But he got up, picked up my panties, held them out, and
had me put my feet through the leg openings, then slipped them up my
legs. He pulled them snugly up around my waist, then lay down next to me
again, with a hand resting firmly against my pantied ass. We kissed
again, and with our arms and legs entwined, fell into a deep sleep.
Maddy
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