THE CLUB (A Quest for My First Black Cock)
It's too long of a story to tell you of my confusing sexual journey from my childhood to now but suffice to say that I'm a married white man in my forties who, for multiple reasons, developed a deep obsession for black cock. Some of you are probably asking how that could happen, but I suspect that there are many of you who are saying to yourself, "That's no surprise! Who the fuck hasn't fantasized about black cocks?!" But it had become a confusing and disturbing development to me!
My obsession led me to seek out black cocks constantly, searching for the biggest and prettiest I could find on the internet. In reality I'd never sucked a black cock, never touched one...hell, I'd never even seen one in person. But despite that little detail, in my imagination I had spent hours upon hours with my lips wrapped hungrily around a thick dark head; sometimes I'd lovingly licked, kissed and caressed them with my mouth; sometimes I had been frozen in fear as a big, black cock violently 'skull'-fucked' my mouth; I'd swallowed gallons of black man's cum and almost as much black man's warm frothy piss...all the while I was staring at my computer...or my phone... and jerking my little white dick a mile a minute until I climaxed, almost collapsing and overwhelmed with exhaustion and pleasure!
I knew that my obsession would continue to control me until I either rejected it wholly or until I tested it in reality. I was pretty sure I didn't have the guts to just jump in the deep end and hire a black male prostitute to let me suck his cock until he came in my mouth, although the thought of it right now fills me with the urge to jerk off again! Instead, I finally decided to act, but to start with some baby steps. I was leaving on a business trip to Minneapolis and my internet research told me I could find at least one decent gay strip club in that town that at least showed pictures of a few black strippers in their 'corral.'
This wouldn't be so bad, right? I'd just be an anonymous guy in a big city far from home. I'd go in, sit in the back, and just watch for the black stripper to do his show, just one small anonymous face in a crowd. At least I'd finally see my first naked black guy in person and actually be in the same room as a real live black cock! Maybe I'd be disappointed and give the whole thing up, who knows? Maybe I'd love it. Maybe I'd even move in closer once the black dancer took the stage for the second time, to test myself, possibly even put a few bucks in his G-string!
Minnesota! Who the fuck plans a business trip to fucking Minneapolis, Minnesota in the fucking winter?! That's what I asked myself as I shivered and walked to my rental car, but then I was suddenly warmed by the thought of where I'd be just 24 hours later. I hadn't really needed to go on this trip, but I'd convinced my boss, and my wife, that it was necessary. Of course, I didn't tell them the real reason for this trip, but at least I had one chance to test myself. I was confident that nothing could stop me!
My confidence wasn't so great the next morning as the snow began to fall, at first light and fluffy but then by midafternoon in thick, wet flakes! Oh no! Was God telling me to forget all this crap, give up and go back home while I still could? How stupid was I for not checking the forecast, too caught up in my schemes, plans, and daydreams. By the time nightfall came I had convinced myself that the club wouldn't even be open. Why would they be, with eight inches of fresh, wet, heavy snow on the ground? I was ready to call it off and just slink back to the hotel for another night of my sad little fantasies and more masturbation, but then I said to myself, "C'mon, pussy! You've gone this far, just give it one chance!"
I started driving to the club, interestingly called 'Thor's Hammer,' located on the outskirts of town, out where decent folks don't have to think about naked gay men throwing their cocks around, or at least that's how I imagined it. The drive was treacherous, but I didn't turn around, hoping the whole time I wouldn't end up in a snow drift or in a ditch. Then I saw the neon accented sign...a tough looking Viking in only a loin cloth holding out a large hammer with a suspiciously shaped hammer-head that looked not-so-much like a hammer.
My heart leaped to see the sign lit up and I could also see that the parking lot had been plowed...well, sort of. I was less enthused to see that there was still four inches of snow in the lot, so the plow-job must have been done much earlier. The final stab at my heart was seeing only one fucking car in the parking lot! This wasn't going as planned!
But at least there was one car, right? I set my jaw and decided to go in anyway. I'd come too far! When I entered, I was greeted by a warm pink and purple glow, which matched well with the indoor temperature that must have been over 80 degrees. They were obviously being kind to their dancers to keep it so warm, but it probably helped business too...a cold strip club is fine for female strippers, giving them hard nipples that could cut glass! But who wants to watch a shivering male stripper with a shrinkage problem?! But it seemed that the heat was on for nothing as there was no one in the audience, no one dancing, no music playing, no one at the counter and no one behind the bar! I was alone and had second thoughts. I had just turned to leave when I heard a voice from a side door..."Hello! Welcome stranger!"
I turned back, and my heart skipped a beat! There stood a young, attractive black man with short curls and a trimmed beard, but he wasn't dressed as I thought a dancer would be, although he obviously had the body for it. He said, "You're pretty brave to be out tonight. I was sure we wouldn't get any of our regular customers after today's storm. You must be from out of town. I'm Dante by the way..."
"Hi," I stammered in surprise. Then I started blabbing from nervousness, "I'm Mark...and yes, I'm just in from Illinois. Guess I wasn't smart enough to stay inside tonight...ummm...I guess I'll go now since you must be planning to close...wait, did you say 'we' cause I just saw the one car out there?"
Dante smiled a great smile and calmy said, "No, no, please don't leave! Have a seat at the bar. The least I can do is buy you a drink just for making the trip here through all that snow. It's on the house...how about a local beer?" I nodded and sat down as Dante poured my drink. He continued, "Honestly, we did talk about closing, but now that you're here we'll definitely stay open! If you don't mind that is. There's just two of us here tonight because of the storm, me and Steve, we live together and rode in together. We were just discussing how we'd have to trade off roles tonight, one dancing while the other tends the bar, and then switch. We've done it before when we've only had two or three of us here. These kinda snowstorms happen a fair amount up here, and so far we've always been able to stay open, knock wood. Thank God you're here so we can keep up our perfect record! Let me tell Steve to get ready and we'll start the show. Be right back!"
As Dante disappeared in back, I was feeling weird about this. I was very nervous because I wasn't going to be able to hide in the crowd like I'd planned. But I was also thrilled because now I knew that I was going to experience seeing my first black cock and Dante was a stunningly handsome young black man! I figured I could easily sit through Steve's show from here at the bar, just biding my time until Dante's turn when I would move in closer. My penis throbbed and swelled at the thought!
The music suddenly jumped on with a stabbing dance groove, the room lights dimmed a little and the stage spotlights turned on. Dante, smiling, came back through the door and went straight to a DJ microphone and said, for my sole benefit, "Thor's Hammer is proud to present to our intrepid and only patron so far tonight, our first premier dancer of the evening..." He paused. Still on the loudspeaker, Dante said to me, "Ya know, Mark, you really should move right down in front...you'll be more comfortable and have a much better view!"
Sheepishly, I grinned and grabbed my beer and slunk to one of the seats up front. Thoughts were racing through my head as I took my position next to the stage. So much for my plans to just politely sit through Steve's set waiting for Dante! I wasn't relishing the thought of sitting so close to some naked white guy while he waved his dick at me, no matter how nice he was. And I wasn't there because I was secretly gay and just looking to suck some random guy's cock! I was there to figure out why I was so hung up on black cocks or was it just a phase and all in my head! With all this buzzing around in my head I'd missed the rest of Dante's introduction of Steve. I hadn't even noticed the music increasing in volume and speed, or even Steve strutting from backstage. It wasn't until Steve was almost directly in front of me that I looked up to see him towering above me, in a wide-legged stance!
Steve was tall, six foot-three at least! Steve was muscular; his arm and leg muscles bulged, and his abs were profoundly sculpted! I could see all this because, although he was dressed in some clothing, it was just about the least amount of clothing you could wear on the street without immediately being arrested! He had on arm metal and leg bands, leather gauntlets, leather sandals laced up to the tops of his muscular calves, a long cape, a leather helmet and a metallic gold bikini thong that looked to be holding back more than the Hoover Dam and was straining to burst...Steve was dressed as Thor, and I sensed that his thong held Thor's Hammer!
But all this impressive detail was what I saw second...what I saw first was the warm, dark glow of Steve's smooth, oiled dark brown skin. Steve was black too! Right then I knew that God wasn't trying to stop me and my foolish errand! Or maybe it was the Devil giving me the biggest damn temptation of my life! Fuck, I didn't know! I didn't care! I just knew that the moment was perfect!
Steve looked down at me with big bright eyes and then he laughed because I had suddenly realized I was staring up at him with my jaw completely agape and then had noticeably made an effort to close it. So much for being an anonymous face in the crowd!
I couldn't take my eyes off Steve as he danced and gyrated around the stage. He was remarkably lithe and flexible for someone so muscular. His dark oiled skin glowed in the soft purple light and the lights reflected from every facet of his chiseled body. My own penis strained to break free as I watched Steve's performance, watched as he piece-by-piece removed his costume, until all that was left was that damned golden thong!
Into the third song of his set, I'd gathered enough nerve to stand up and put some money into the string of his waist band, and not wanting to appear cheap I made it a twenty! I soon followed that with two more as I mentally willed Steve to remove that last pesky garment and show me his big, beautiful black cock that I was imagining so clearly!
Then suddenly the third song was over, and Steve skipped off stage and behind the curtain! What the fuck!? I mean, he was fucking fantastic, and I was aroused to the fucking hilt from watching his gorgeous body...but I really wanted to see his black cock! The blood was still pounding in my ears a few moments later when I heard a different, deeper voice on the loudspeaker announce, "Coming to the stage now, please welcome the one, the only, the beautiful Danteeeeeee!" I turned to see Steve wearing a robe and holding the microphone with a big smile and then Dante danced out onto the stage.
Dante was physically impressive too, but with a different build than Steve. Dante was a few inches shorter. His body was also well-defined but tighter, leaner, more of a dancer's build than Steve's strong and solid form. Dante wasn't dressed as a Viking but a cowboy, with a Stetsen hat, frilly leather vest, and leather chaps! Not much else except for another damned thong...again, this time a brilliant red vinyl, just as tight and strained as Steve's had been. At the sight of it I held out hope that this time maybe it would come off. To make sure I kept stuffing fives and tens into Dante's waistband.
