The Cocksucker 1

"You, I am isn't gay or nothing', but if you want, we could fuck around together, you know, on the down low," Khyree said. His face was flat and emotionless, thick lips pursed so I couldn't read anything in his features. It was hard to look at him without my knees going weak anyway, because he was ungodly sexy.

My heart stopped. I gulped and looked into his handsome brown eyes. "What?"
"As long as you don't tell no one," he said.
"You... You would do that?"

"All the black guys up north do it," he said. "It ain't a big deal."

It wasn't unheard of for black guys here in Georgia to go downlow too, but no one I knew did it. Not that I hadn't wished for a million guys just like Khyree to go on the down low with me. There's not many gay men in Bumcraw, and there's only one other gay black man in the whole county, as far as I know. He's a dick (not in a good way). So I was pretty starving for some cock to suck on that looked like mine, especially if it was attached to a football stud's body like Khyree.

So Khyree's offer filled me with desire, fear and indecision. Would he judge me? Was he kidding? Was he going to attack me if I said yes? But it seemed I didn't need to say anything -- he dropped the towel around his waist, revealing a long, thick cock, which he flopped between his fingers. He apparently assumed I agreed. It seemed a bit arrogant, but on the other hand, I didn't know many gay men who would turn down someone like Khyree. He was muscled like a Greek god carved from mahogany, with thick arms and a massive swinging dick.

I stood and closed the door to the massage room. I knew the rest of the team had left already, Khyree only staying because of his strained ankle, but I was still worried about being caught. The Bucks were not keen on faggots, and they might have looked the other way for a player or a coach, who was important to their success, but a massage therapist? They wouldn't have wanted me rubbing down their bodies every day if they knew it gave me a stiffie.

"I ain't got all night," he said. His voice was rough and gritty, and it made my dick stand straight up. "I gotta get out there and meet some ladies, you know, get the world to know who I am. I got endorsement deals to score, black guy. So hop to it."
His cock slipped easily right in my mouth, sliding down my throat. It tasted good and clean. The biting acridity of his soap and the remnants of powder he had worn during practice masked a faint underlying muskiness emanating from his balls.

We laid out on the massage room floor. Khyree undid the belt of my jeans and took hold of my cock. He swallowed it in one motion. He didn't seem to have any hesitation either, and for the first time since he had been hired by the Bumcraw Bucks, I wondered if he wasn't totally heterosexual. I wasn't expecting him to reciprocate, but I guessed that was how things worked up north.

Khyree was a barrel-chested man, a lineman with all the power and almost none of the gut that most of them have. His powerful chest was hot and solid beneath me, his perfect belly quivering at my finger's touch.
My dick felt like it was melting inside his mouth, his hot lips growling and his throat grumbling around my cock. I was on top of him, so the whole shaft just laid in his throat, and he moved his own neck back and forth. He didn't seem to need any encouragement to get it all the way down to the root, and he rubbed it with his tongue like an expert.

Damn, I thought, maybe I should move up north. Sounds like a chill place.

His dick fit exquisitely in my own mouth, like it had been tailored for me. It was just fat enough to choke on, just long enough to squeeze in, but not so big that I sputtered or had to spit it out.
I used both my hands to finger his balls, and let one finger travel down to his taint. I had a hunch he was the kind of guy who loved a little attention paid to his taint, so I was glad to oblige.
He shot a thick load in my mouth, groaning around my cock in his own. His hands massaged my ass and slapped my cheeks. His nails dug into my flesh as the orgasm rocked his body.

I thought he might tell me to pull out, to avoid cumming in his mouth. But when I was done with his blowjob, he got even more enthusiastic with mine. He sucked it down to the root and slathered my cockshaft with his spit.

I held off as long as I could, fondling every inch of muscle on his body. My orgasm wracked my limbs, so intense it was almost painful. I shot a huge load in his mouth, and he choked but sucked it all down. He didn't even hesitate or gag a little, so I wondered again how deep his heterosexuality ran.

He stood and said, "Alright, you better not tell no one, faggot." Then pulled his jockstrap up and walked back out into the locker room.