A Blac Superman in America

My name is Theodore James Madder. My friends and family members call me TJ. It's my favorite nickname. The hero of this tawdry little tale. I'm a seven-foot-tall young black man living in the combative and competition-obsessed city of Brockton, Massachusetts. These days, I'm doing many exciting things. I'm a freelance writer for the infamous newspaper called the Boston Universal, and I'm also a student at the Boston Metropolitan Institute, or BMI, a four-year, all-male private school. I love my job. It allows me to meet so many people. I also get to travel a lot. That's really good. Being able to travel a lot and have it covered by the paper (occasionally) is awesome. It also enables me to hide my activities very easily.

What are my favorite activities? Playing collegiate sports and doing shoddy journalism, thank you very much. I'm a member of the Men's Varsity Tennis team at the world-famous Boston Metropolitan Institute. I love my college campus, located in the small town of Avon, Massachusetts. It's an all-male haven. Coed schools turn guys from manly men into politically correct wimps. The Boston Metropolitan Institute is one of four all-male colleges remaining in the United States of America. I wish more schools would embrace single-sex education. It works better. Before attending the Boston Metropolitan Institute, I attended Boston College High School, an all-male Catholic school in the Jesuit Tradition. BMI was founded in 1987 by a Philanthropic Organization. Twenty years later, it was one of the best schools in the region. A four-year school with a student body of twelve hundred men. There are male and female professors among the faculty but the student body is all-male. We're keeping it that way.

Since we're an all-male private school, we don't have to bother with Title IX restrictions the way other coeducational colleges and universities do. The feminists on those college campuses routinely use Title IX to screw over male student-athletes and the spineless administrators let them get away with it every time. Just look at what happened at James Madison University last year. Tons of male sports teams got the axe while the women's sports teams remained untouched. That's not equality, it's state-sponsored discrimination! We're immune to that, thank heavens! That means we can have as many sports as we want. Boston Metropolitan Institute sportsmen compete in Men's Varsity Baseball, Basketball, Cross Country, Soccer, Swimming, Volleyball, Lacrosse, Football, Wrestling, Rugby, Rowing, Golf, Tennis, Sailing, Bowling, Rifle and Ice Hockey. We compete in the National Collegiate Athletic Association's Division Three. We don't offer athletic scholarships. The Boston Metropolitan Institute routinely beats the living daylights out of schools like Bridgewater State College, Curry College and Lasell College in all sports.

I'm currently in therapy for the world's strangest addiction. I'm addicted to sex with big women who have big tits and huge asses. Normally, I think that would not be a good thing, but I'm quite obsessed with it. I don't think this particular obsession is so unhealthy for me but whatever. How did this happen in the first place? How did people find out what was going on inside my head? Let's just say that I fell asleep at work and have a nasty habit of talking in my sleep. Some annoying guy or most likely some bitchy woman must have overheard me and reported me to the boss. You know how politically correct the modern American workplace is these days. I got summoned by the Powers That Be and they decided my fate. Now, I've got to take sixty hours of therapy otherwise I lose my job. I love working for the Boston Universal Newspaper. They pay me two to three hundred bucks per news-making snapshot. Most other newspapers are too cheap to pay this good. They're dumb, if you ask me.

So, yeah, I was supposed to meet my shrink today. I went to this big office building in Boston's Back Bay. I don't believe in therapy. However, since I'm a seven-foot-tall and 280-pound black man, the general public felt that they had a right to be afraid of me. I'm always asked if I play college basketball or for the NBA. I don't play basketball. I've never played basketball. I love Ice Hockey and Tennis. They're my favorite sports. I sat in the waiting room while the good doctor finished with his latest patient. I waited and waited. I was bored. Finally, the good doctor showed up. That's when I got the surprise of a lifetime. The good doctor was a woman. And not just any woman. A woman I happened to have fucked in the past. Small world, hey?

The woman in question was Carol Smith, a bitch I met at Club Axel in downtown Boston. She was a thirty-something white woman with red hair and pale green eyes. A chick with a kind of ugly face but a thick body, wide hips, and last but not least, a huge and plump ass. Yeah, I fucked her brains out in the club. Carol Smith was one crazy bitch. Seeing her in her office sure brought back memories. I looked at her and smiled confidently. This was going to be a piece of cake. Carol looked at me. She tried to affect the detached, clinical demeanor of the therapist she was supposed to be. But I saw right past that. When she looked at me, I knew she was thinking about the last time we met. I had her face down and ass up, my hand clamped over her mouth while my dick was buried so far up her asshole that you couldn't tell where she ended and I began. Or vice versa. Yeah, good times. I walked confidently into her office.

I sat on the couch while the good doctor asked me what was up. I smiled and turned on the charm. No matter what they say, bitches will be bitches. It doesn't matter if they become senators, presidents or high-powered businesswomen. I can always spot a bitch. Every woman has a bitch deep inside of her. I'm the kind of roughneck who knows just how to bring it out. How else would you explain why Carol Smith started sweating the moment I walked into her rather chilly room? She sat behind her desk, acting cool. I told her that I had gotten into a bit of trouble and needed her to sign some forms. Basically, I needed her to sign away the mandated papers and tell the authorities that I was a mentally healthy human being. Then, I would be scot-free. Carol flat-out told me that she couldn't do that. I was stunned. What the fuck? I kept my cool. I told her that she was a good gal, she'd get a special treat.

I knew I couldn't bribe her with money. So, I played the Super Masculinity Card. I unzipped my pants, and freed my dick. My sixteen-inch long, uncircumcised black super cock. Carol's jaw was on the floor. I smiled, and told her to come and get it. I never saw a woman leap from behind a desk so quickly. I mean, it's like I looked one moment and she was sitting behind the desk and the next moment, she was kneeling before me, aching to get some dick. I thrust my cock into her mouth. Obediently, Carol began sucking on my dick. See what I mean? All women will suck dick. It just takes a little extra incentive sometimes.

Carol sucked my dick and got me hard in no time. I came all over her not-so-pretty face, and told her to drink. Like a good little slut, she licked it all up. Then, I grabbed her and put her on all fours. Nothing I love more than putting a woman on all fours. It makes me feel powerful. Carol shook her fat ass, telling me that she couldn't wait to get fucked. I laughed. This was going to be fun. I grabbed Carol's plump butt cheeks, and spread them wide open. Then, I pressed my super-sized dick against her asshole, and pushed it inside. Carol howled as my cock slammed into her asshole. Oh, shit. I hate it when they do that. I clamped my hand over her mouth, and continued to fuck her. I dug my fingers into her hips and shoved my dick deeper into her asshole. Carol's asshole was wonderfully warm and tight and so damn soft around my dick. You've got to try anal sex with at least one woman before you die, men. Seriously. You're missing out.

I grabbed a handful of Carol's red hair and yanked her head back while slamming my cock into her poop chute. There's nothing I love more than fucking a woman in the ass. Especially a big woman with a fat ass. They have the tightest assholes, you know. It makes them more fun to fuck. I slammed my cock into the forbidden depths of Carol's asshole while muffling her cries. I did that ass of hers like anal sex was going out of style. I love anal sex with big women and if loving it was wrong, then I didn't want to be right. I pounded that ass of hers until I got my nut and came, blasting her asshole with my cum. That's when I removed my hand from her mouth. Carol's scream was sweet music to my ears. I wish I brought an audio recording device but whatever. Carol lay on the floor, her body shaking in orgasmic bliss. My dick was still buried in her asshole. I let it stay there for a while before removing it.

A few minutes later, I left Carol's office. I had the signed documents freeing me from the therapy sessions in hand. I went and got my job back. As I walked through the streets of Boston, I felt happy as a clown. I took the Ashmont Train from South Station to Dorchester and then hopped on the Bat Bus to Avon City, Massachusetts. I had quite a story to tell my friends at BMI. The problem is most of them wouldn't believe me. That's why I took Carol's cum-filled panties as a souvenir. To commemorate a special event, you know? The fun days of a man's life should never be forgotten.