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  • 2 weeks later...
Posted

Hey all- I msgd with  WhtHole about the next chapter of this story ( I needed another orgasm LOL) and  he says  the story ended with Garrett handing the cum pig over to the black security guard. ( Or  has it?? Will they show up in another storyline someday, tying back into this one >>??)

Posted

Epilogue - A Ring of Fire: A black hand snatched the wad of cash - my tips from the Speed Breeding and anonymous dick/cum I had taken - then he took the keys to my apartment Garrett was holding, and as Garrett stepped back, smiling like the twisted fucker he was, the black bouncer/guard I had teased earlier filled the doorway and said, “HIS PARTY IS OVER. MINE IS JUST BEGINNING. YOU READY FOR SOME BBC SLOW, DEEP, ROUGH BREEDING? NONE OF THIS SPEEDY SHIT - I PLAN TO TAKE MY TIME OPENING THAT ASS PUSSY UP AND FILLING YOU WITH NICCA NUTT” Before I replied I gave him and up/down once over look and my ass shivered in anticipation. He was tall, stocky, with a full beard and a GIGANTIC steel pipe snaking down the right leg of his jeans that even soft was fucking impressive. Garrett patted me on the shoulder and laughed, “I’ll see you at home - good job tonight.” My black escort called out behind him, “Don’t wait up.” I smiled at his boldness, bent over to pick up my shorts, shirt, and full bottle of cocaine Garrett had left for me and yelped as two, calloused fingers started violating my hole as his other hand pressed down on my back. “How many loads you take in that ass tonight,” he asked? I ignored the question as I snorted some powder, wiped my nose, and started to push back, riding those digits. He chuckled, “Fucking bitch - you’re in heat huh? Like I told you, YOU TEASING THE WRONG MAN.” He growled, “I ONLY FUCK WHEN I KNOW IT’S ALL GOING IN - EVERY INCH - and IF THAT MEANS MAKING THAT SHIT BLEED AND TEARING YOU OPEN TO GET IT, I WILL. I AIN’T PLAYIN. I TAKE WHAT’S MINE. Now that pussy ass is mine. You ain’t ready yet and frankly never will be until I get done fucking is the first time.” All that talk just made me want it and want it now and I started moaning and riding his fingers harder even as he tried adding a third and turning his hand from vertical to horizontal to cut me up and stretch me out. The sharp pain was joyous and I pushed back on it. He started slicing and dicing my wet hole as he continued, “I’M TELLING YOU NOW. YOU AIN’T READY, BUT I’LL GET YOU CLOSER AND AFTER YOU’VE SHOWN ME YOU CAN BE A REAL WHORE AND SLUT FOR GOOD BLACK DICK - NOT THESE PANTY ASS WHITE DING A LINGS THAT SNUCK THROUGH HERE TONIGHT - BUT REAL NICCA DICK - WHEN I THINK THAT PUSSY IS SET, YOU WILL CRY, SCREAM, TRY TO RUN AND I WON’T GIVE A FUCKING SHIT CAUSE LIKE I SAID, THAT PUSSY ASS IS MINE NOW. SO QUIT DICKIN AROUND, GATHER YOUR SHIT AND COME ON.”

 

Damn it! What do you call it when a bottom is left hanging like that? Tops get blue balls but what do bottoms get? Blue asshole?

 

I followed him out of the warehouse and had to hustle to keep up. He quickly crossed the street and entered a short alley that cut the block in half and ran between a little neighborhood grocery store and an old bar that only seemed to be open for the daytime drunks. He stopped, turned fast for such a big guy, put his hand around my throat and shoved me against the brick wall, “Hold my fucking lighter for me, then once I start hitting my pipe I want you to get on your hands and knees and lick my boots.” I paused, “What if someone comes by?” I garbled. He just shook his head, “Like I give a shit. They can either watch the show or join in.” Then, with only the glow from his lighter as I tried to hold it steady, he reached down, rolled up cuff of his jeans and extracted a silver case from the top of his Timberlands. I watched as he deftly removed a glass pipe that had a stem about 3 inches long with a gum drop sized bowl on the end. He then stuffed a wadded up piece of Chore Boy metal cleaning pad that he had pre-balled and burned a bit to get the orange coloring off into the bowl. Next he tapped a big yellowish rock out of a little baggy, set it on top of the metal wadding, latched the case close and slid it back into his boot top. He took the lighter, kicked me, “Get on your fucking knees - wait - take them shorts off so I see that ass - there you go - now get on your knees and clean them boots.” I started slurping on his Timberlands as the BBC flicked his lighter, got the rock melting, then inhaled. I reached up to stroke that long dick I was so eager to taste and feel and got knocked up side the head as he coughed out a toxic cloud, “FUCK THAT SHIT OFF. KEEP YOUR FUCKING HANDS TO YOURSELF AND THAT TONGUE ON MY BOOTS. YOU NEED TO LEARN HOW TO SERVE A REAL MAN - THAT STARTS BY OBEYING AND KEEPS GOING BY YOU ATTENDING TO MY NEEDS. RIGHT NOW - MY NEED IS YOU TO BATHE MY TIMBS WITH THAT TONGUE. LATER - MY NEED WILL BE TO BREED YOU SO DEEP YOU’LL GET FLUID IN YOUR LUNGS - NUTT PNEUMONIA.”

 

Having finished up the rock, he reached down with his calloused hands, patted me on the head, took his metal case back out of his boot, set the pipe back inside, tucked it back in and said, “Get up. Get your shorts on. Come on.” About a block away as we headed east we paused at the corner. We stood by the vacant building for about 5 minutes - him tweaking and me snorting coke from my bottle. A few cars were on 14th Street, but it was not until one slowed, then circled round the block and came down the side street that he moved. He eased out to the edge of the sidewalk, the car stopped, window rolled down, the black guy inside leaned over and he and my bouncer escort exchanged words. The car then backed up away from the lit corner and turned it’s lights off. I followed along and the driver got out, walked to the passenger side, and leaned against the door as we approached. My BBC bouncer pulled the wad of my cash tips from his pocket, peeled off a $10, handed it to the guy, who smiled, unbuckled his pants, and dropped them to the pavement. “Suck his dick,” I was ordered. I looked from one guy to the other and while I wanted to get fucked, got on my knees, grabbed the guy’s hips and started slurping. I didn’t care if someone might walk by - which given the location and time of night was unlikely and the fact that my BBC bouncer was standing behind me watching. “SUCK THAT DICK YOU WHORE - SUCK IT!” the car’s driver said as he started pumping my throat. I did for a bit, but my B.I.C. (Bottom In Charge) role took over and I pulled back, looked up, and breathlessly asked, “Want to fuck me?” That got me a hard boot to the back as a silent ‘shut up’ from my BBC guide, and as the driver did not respond I shrugged, and focused on working my mouth hole instead. The driver’s hands grabbed the back of my head and he started thrusting, pumping, and filled my mouth with a pint of man cum. Satisfied I had sucked him dry he let go of my head, I leaned back, he zipped up, walked around the front of the car, got in, and drove off. I got off the sidewalk and the BBC bouncer said, “You still need to learn. A man’s needs is not always about getting pussy - well it is - but sometimes a nicca just wants a quick blow job or BJ. You need to learn about the niccas here. Take the dick however they offer it. If they are in their car, they are usually just looking for a quick blow job before heading home. If you need more, you need to offer a little something - a little cash but also offering to take it unwrapped is good - they like whore pussy they can pop and drop a nutt in. Now, you’re gonna have to do better if you want me to fuck that ass.” Damn!

 

I had to hustle again to catch up as he headed back to the corner at 14th. “Hey, I never got your name,” I said as I got up to him. He paused, looked at me and said, “No, you didn’t.” Fuck that was hot! Here I was following some anonymous BBC, taking anonymous loads on the street because he said so, all because I was a dick hungry cock hound. I was busy snorting from my bottle when he did a quick step across the street ahead of an oncoming car. I had to wait for the car to pass then practically run to catch up. We turned east on P Street and a block up, crossed over to Logan Circle Park. Tall, wiry bushes had turned what was once a broad walkway into the small park into nothing more than a slim, game trail. Another example of DC’s failed government back at the time. Shadows moved off to the sides - sounds of sex could be heard, voices low, bodies smacking together, and as we got to the middle of the park I could see a small group of men standing under the statute of Commander John Logan astride his horse, looking forlornly over the rundown park. “Stay here,” my BBC guide said. Bits of light randomly shone from the streetlamps that circled the park. Any lamps within the park were long broken, but there was enough light to make out the basics. It was also starting to approach morning, yet a dark and overcast one. Fitting for the dark places I was being taken in DC’s underbelly.  I looked down at the remnants of an old park bench, which now was nothing more than a metal leg/end piece bolted to cracked concrete and a few bits of rotten wood. I took my bottle out, snorted some coke, and watched as my guide eased up to the group, shook some hands, then turned his back to me as he did his business. Was he finding me more dick?

 

“Are they going to fuck me?” I asked as he came back to where I was standing. He grabbed my shoulder and pushed me back down the path a couple of steps and quietly said, “No. Something else to learn if you are going to chase street dick is that it’s almost always best to catch guys who are alone. Sitting alone, walking alone, driving alone. Those dudes up there? They’re here for business - slinging dope, rock, needles, whatever. Now, they don’t bother folks who come here to fuck around they just don’t want to be bothered and if you had gone up to ask them if they wanted to fuck you’d get beat down. True - I know some of those niccas would roll up in that ass another place - another time - but this is their business time.” I looked crestfallen and swayed a bit as I snorted some more coke. “Easy there pussy boy,” my BBC bouncer said as he steadied me. “I want you fucked up, not dropped out, cause I’ll leave your ass where it falls. Don’t worry. I came here to get as much rock as they could offer with that nice wad of cash of yours. When I fuck you, I want to be lit as that makes me horny as shit and I want you lit too. You’ll see - the pipe will make you climb my dick like a pro – at least for the second round. You’ll be lucky to stay conscious for the first one. I also got someone here for you to see to see how good of a whore you are and then - then if you do my man right, we’ll see about what comes next.”

 

Well that perked me right up and in my excitement I ran right into the back of my BBC guide who had stopped in the middle of the trail, seemed to orient himself, then pushed through a small gap in the bushes on the left side of the path. Lucky for me he was tall and created a darker shadow to follow. He only went about 5-feet before he stopped, and asked, “How’s it going Russell?” I stepped up beside my guide into a small space that had been beat out in the middle of a bunch of the tall bushes. There was a black guy who was clearly homeless sitting on the ground, smoking a hand rolled cigarette, his face highlighted by the cast from a little fire burning in coffee can. My BBC guide pulled out my stack of tips that he had left, peeled off a $5, tossed it on the ground and said, “I brought you some white ass. Got a fresh boy here who’s trying to learn to be a good street whore and I know with how things are, you don’t get pussy like you used to. Figured you could use some.” The homeless man groaned as he stood up, looked at me, “You trying to take some dick boy?” he asked. I looked from him to my BBC bouncer and back. Yeah I had taken the guy on the street corner up from Garrett’s house who was begging for money, but that was really my only experience with homeless dick and somehow this seemed - ‘worse’. “Yes,” I said. He huffed liked he didn’t believe me. I dropped my shorts, turned, “Come on, stick it in me,” I said. He laughed, “What? You think I lay up around here with a hard dick just waiting for pussy to stumble on by? You got to work my shit first. Nice ass though. You gonna let me bust one in it? Want me to wipe my dick off a bit before you start sucking it? No? Jesus man, think you may have a real freak whore here.”

 

I got on my knees, careful not to tip over the coffee can fire pit and although the dick he pulled out of his pants was crusted, ripe, and smelled like an outhouse, I gobbled that stink stick down. My BBC guardian stood behind us watching and smoking a fresh rock on his pipe as I worked the flesh pipe in my mouth, got it hard, turned around, and let him push it into my ass. “I WANT YOUR CUM IN ME RUSSELL, FUCK IT - FUCK ME GOOD - YEAH JUST LIKE THAT,” I said as the filthy 10-incher pushed in and out of my hole. “CREAM MY WHITE PUSSY MAN, PU T THAT LOAD IN, FUCK IT HARDER, GO ON, HARDER, PLEASE – CUM IN ME…” A few minutes of me talking dirty later, Russell was close, “YOU A NASTY ONE AIN’T YA? HOT DAMN THAT’S GOOD ASS - READY FOR THIS CUM IN THAT ASS? DON’T PULL AWAY NOW - I’M JUST ABOUT THERE - JUST ABOUT THERE - HERE YOU GO - FILLING THAT WHITE ASSHOLE UP - FILLING YOU UP WITH MY DARK ROAST. PUMPING THAT PUSSY FULL WITH MY BIG LOAD.” Russell kept jamming my hole as squirt after squirt was added to the cum remnants already inside me. Finally spent, he yanked his dick out, ordered me to clean it off, and once done, plopped back down on the ground and tossed some more bits of paper and refuse in his coffee can fire, fanning the little flames to life. My BBC guide tucked his pipe back into his boot top, led the way out through the bramble path, and before we cleared the brush he stopped, turned, grabbed me by throat and pulled me close. His beard tickled my face as the wisps of crack smoke from his lungs tickled my nose, “Reach down and touch my fucking dick,” he ordered. I would have gasped in wonder if his hand had been looser. All I could do was gurgle a bit. “Seeing that shit made my dick rock hard. FUCK! If it was later at night I would take your ass right here - let you bleed out in the bushes as I rape that pussy to death - maybe another night,” he warned. I shook with anticipation. He let go, we cleared the brush line, he stopped, looked around like he was getting his bearings, then smiled, “I got the perfect place to go next. Spot be hopping 24/7.”

 

We headed zig-zag north a few blocks, then cut to the west, back over to 14th Street, then further north, and cut west again to 15th. At W Street we turned left and immediately veered right off the sidewalk onto a paved path. My BBC guide had been laser focused on our destination and had barely said two words to me. He seemed like he was jonesing for his pipe – about as bad as I was in need of his - and when I pulled out my bottle of coke to snort some he snatched it from me, stuffed it in his pocket and said, “No. No more. You need to do this next part without flashing that damn bottle to the fucking world. Safer that way, plus I need you ready for the pipe.” He now paused, looked around, there were a few passing the intersection a block over on 16th, but otherwise the streets were quiet. “This is Malcolm X Park,” he explained with a wave to the dark, unlit, path. “The park runs oh several blocks up the hill. The white folks call it Meridian Hill Park. Trying to white wash it like everything else in this city. For now, it’s still the place to go for 24/7 freak shit. Drugs, street trade, just niccas looking to hang and smoke, get a blow job, fuck some ass or pussy. Once we walk through them posts there you stick close. If you with me, no one will fuck with you - well they will - but you know, they won’t try to rob or hurt you or shit. About half way up is a spot I know. Used to be a pump house or something for the fountain that is cut back deep into a wall. I know we’ll find the freak shit there that I want – them rough street trade niccas that will gang rape that pussy good and get it ready for me.” I suddenly got nervous and touched his arm, “Won’t we get busted or arrested or something?” I asked. He laughed, “ Fuck no! The cops know better than to go in there even in the day. Neighbors too. They all stay out, that is of course unless they scoping. This is where shit goes down and oh, right about now, we’ll run into the dudes who have gotten off the night shift, or have been at the after parties and too fucked up to go home, or are fucked up enough to get down on the DL, or guys like me who can come here and get what I want by force if need be and no one saying shit. Hell, I think the cops and the city like leaving it like this. Rundown, overgrown, lights all broken and shit. Cheaper, but keeps the wild shit in a central spot. Otherwise you’d have brothas and the Latinos, and the Maryland boys spread out from Adams Morgan, to Logan Circle, to Capitol Hill trying to find some little spot to get into just a minute of innocent trouble.” Sure didn’t sound like anything innocent happened in this place.

 

Like Logan Circle’s park, this one was overgrown, strewn with trash, lights were busted, and as I gazed up the multi-tiered fountain and steps that cascaded down the hillside, I thought this would be a fucking awesome Halloween haunt. Only it wasn’t All Hallows Eve - it was a hazy morning in the nation’s capital, yet I still hoped for some demons to spawn inside my living flesh. “Wait here,” my BBC guide said as we got about halfway up the Hill and angled off to the right into a thicket of hollies that opened before stone archway. Flickers of lighters and matches were like Polaroid snapshots of the men milling about inside. Two guys passed me heading back the way we came. The looks they gave me were a mix of curiosity and a warning like I was treading on ground where I didn’t belong. A few seconds later the bouncer rejoined me, wrapped his hand tight around my throat and put his face close to mine again, “It’s time. Time to get that ass fucked good. My buddies say the spot’s jumping this morning with limited options, so that means you’re gonna get all the fucking nicca dick and nutt you can handle. Here’s how this is playing out. You and I are going in there and off to the back and side is a stone bench. I’m gonna sit back, kick out my feet, hit my rock, and watch the fucking show. You - you are gonna get naked, get on your fucking hands and knees and lick my boots again. Then - then you are going to experience a RING OF FIRE.”

 

“What is a RING OF FIRE?” I asked. Fingers squeezed tighter to cut off any other questions. “A RING OF FIRE IS A BBC GANG RAPE SPECIAL. THE CALL HAS GONE OUT TO EVERY FUCKING CRACK HEAD IN THE PARK - THAT’S WHERE THOSE GUYS WENT OFF TOO. SOON THIS ALCOVE WILL BE BRIMMING WITH BROTHAS ALL LOOKING TO LIGHT THEIR PIPES UP AND STAND IN A CIRCLE - CREATING A RING OF FIRE AROUND THAT WHITE PUSSY ASS AS ONE AFTER ANOTHER DICK IT DOWN, NUTT UP, AND TAG OFF. YOU MENTIONED YOU TOOK A FEW DICKS THE OTHER NIGHT AT SOME GUY’S HOUSE WITH HIM AND HIS HOMIES WATCHING THE GAME. THAT’S LIGHT WEIGHT SHIT. YOU IN THE RING NOW WITH HEAVY WEIGHT ROCK STARS. COME ON. WHILE WE WAIT, YOU NEED TO GET READY AND THE FIRST FLAME TO GET LIT IN THIS RING WILL BE YOU - TIME FOR YOU TO BECOME A CRACKHEAD WHORE! TIME FOR YOU TO GET BURNED BY THE RING OF FIRE SO THEN IT WILL BE MY TURN AS MY SEED NEEDS TO COME OUT AND BURN THAT ASS!”

(*From the author: If you like the story let me know - post a reply or give a reputation. Thanks to everyone who takes the time to read these stories and for the continued support!)

 

 

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