I'm naked, on my knees. The young black man in front of me is lithe and glistening. He's half my age, but I'm kneeling submissively, waiting for instructions. His enormous cock hangs at half mast, just inches from my face.
"You want my cock, don't you?" he says quietly. I simply nod. I only speak when I'm invited to.
"Beg for it, cocksucker," he says.
"Please may I suck your cock, sir," I mumble meekly.
He lifts my chin and looks straight into my eyes.
"You're going to lick my arse, suck my balls and take my cock down your throat. You keep going until I'm ready, got it?"
He's clearly enjoying my subjugation. I think it's the fact I'm married and officially straight that turns him on. He knows I can't help myself. His muscular legs, powerful thighs and long, thick, black cock stir something in me that would revolt me with anyone else. I want to feel it in my mouth. I want his cum in my belly.
***
Three months ago I was just getting on with life. I'd recently turned 50, was happily married, or at least, as happy as can be expected after 20 years. Kids all left home. Just running my marketing business from my little office just off the High Street. The office was my haven. I'd been working on my own for two decades and I loved it. I had everything I needed here: a nice, discreet, self-contained office away from the world. I had some great clients and the work was easy. And when it wasn't too busy, I could watch porn and have a nice long wank. I wasn't getting much action at home so it was a naughty little release from time to time.
And when I felt like skipping a day, my favourite haunt was the golf club. Like the old saying goes: even a bad day on the fairway beats the best day behind a desk. I tried to get a game in every week or two, pairing up with a few of the regular club members for a day out with a relaxed lunch between rounds, or grabbing a quick 9 holes as a 2-ball with whoever happened to be lurking around the clubhouse. That was how I met Mike.
"You look like you need a playing partner," I chirped across the bar. I hadn't seen him before so assumed he must be new. He looked up and scowled.
"My partner's a no-show," he grumbled. "Bloody annoying!"
"Happy to buddy up for a round. I play off 9 if that helps." I was quite proud of my handicap, given that I didn't get on to the course as often as I would have liked.
"Twelve," he replied. "But who's counting!" We laughed and shook hands, introducing ourselves formally. As we wandered out to where our clubs were perched, a couple of young lads appeared. Looked like they'd been smoking around the corner. I caught the distinctive whiff of weed.
"These two were supposed to be caddying for us. You OK with that?" said Mike. He looked a bit nervous. I didn't usually bother with a caddy but it seemed churlish to refuse, so I handed off my bag to the taller of the two and he introduced himself as Dom and his mate as Vince. They were both black and quite muscular, which I suppose is to be expected for young men in their 20s who are lugging bags of clubs around all day. I was slightly envious to be honest. My days of being slim and ripped were long gone.
It was a great afternoon stroll across the course. Mike was a mediocre player at best and I thrashed him by 16 shots. Even allowing for the handicap, it was a bit of a massacre. But hey! We all have bad days. He took it well.
"Thanks for the game," he said generously. "I'm new to the club and it looks like I've a lot to learn!"
"We're all friends here," I replied cheerfully as we hit the changing rooms and peeled off for a shower.
I'm not shy when it comes to being naked with other men, but as is usually the way, we turned away from each other as we undressed, aiming for shower cubicles at opposite ends of the room. Just as we were stripping down, Dom and Vince wandered in, glanced across at Mike and started stripping. I didn't know caddies were allowed to use the members' changing room, but thought little of it. Plenty of cubicles.
"You lost," said Dom suddenly and I realised he was talking to Mike. Mike glanced nervously in my direction.
"Could we do this later..." he started but the lad interrupted him.
"You lost," he said again firmly, peeling off his boxers. "Bet's a bet. On your knees."
My brain processed the words I'd just heard. Did he just tell a club member to...? As I turned, Mike was sinking to his knees in the cubicle. He looked at me and blushed then simply dropped his gaze to the floor. Dom stepped in beside him, stark naked, and I caught a glimpse of an enormous engorged cock hanging between his legs. It disappeared as he pulled the curtain across the cubicle and switched on the shower.
I stared in disbelief. It was pretty clear what was happening behind the curtain. I could see Mike's legs under the curtain, kneeling, Dom's legs casually spread in front of him. There was no doubt where Dom's cock was going, but in case I had any doubts I heard him grunt over the noise of the shower.
"Nice and slow, cocksucker."
I was still reeling slightly from the knowledge of what was going on behind the curtain when Vince brought me out of my reverie.
"You want some too, mister?" he said. I glanced at him. He was holding his cock in his hand, stroking it gently. It was almost as big as Dom's. A part of my brain admired it for it's size and girth.
"Usually only the loser sucks, but if you want some of this, you're welcome," he continued, waving his manhood in my direction.
"Er... no thanks," I muttered. "I'm married. And straight."
"They're always married and straight," he barked, grinning. "Your prick says otherwise."
It was at that point that I realised I had a hard-on. Fucking hell, where did that come from!? I quickly turned away and stepped into my cubicle, dowsing my ardour with the lukewarm water of the shower, trying not to think about what was happening on the other side of the room.
"Suit yourself," grunted Vince from behind me and with that he walked across to Mike's cubicle and stepped inside.
***
Despite the shock and slight revulsion of the incident, I found myself thinking about it over the next few days, especially the sight of those two fat black cocks. I knew the whole 'black men have bigger dicks' thing was a myth, but those lads certainly gave it some credence. And although, as stated, I'm a red-blooded straight male, I did find myself wondering. Just a little.
One afternoon was a bit quiet so I logged into my usual porn site for a quick afternoon wank. Almost the first thing that popped up was some random big-tited MILF being face-fucked by a tall muscular black guy. His cock was huge and he could barely get even half it between her lips. It stretched her mouth and she sucked on it wide-eyed, trying not to gag. I pulled out my growing johnson and gave it a little tug. As I watched him pump her mouth my cock hardened and I thought back to Mike on his knees. I wondered if he'd actually enjoyed sucking those lads, or just suffered the consequences of some stupid macho wager with his mate, who didn't even show for the game! I was bloody glad I'd won!
The woman on the screen was moaning and gagging as the black monster ploughed her mouth. I couldn't see his face but his legs were thick and sinewy, his jet black skin glistening in contrast to her white shoulders and tits. She was drooling a bit, but he didn't seem to care, just holding her head and sliding his dick rhythmically in and out, occasionally pulling out and slapping her cheek with it, while she gasped for air, then feeding it back into her mouth. It was both crude and erotic at the same time. It didn't look very comfortable for her but she moaned and seemed to be enjoying it, although it's porn so I guess it was an act, right?
Suddenly, he pulled out and she opened her mouth wide, closing her eyes. A big ribbon of milky white jizz squirted on to her tongue, then another across her face as the guy grunted. Then he pulled her head onto his pulsing cock and emptied the rest of his balls down her throat. She held his softening tool in her mouth for a few seconds, then pulled back and swallowed, licking her lips and gazing up at him with a big grin.
I realised I was jealous. But not of him. I imagined, just for a few seconds, being where she was, kneeling in front of this powerful, dominant male as he unloaded his sperm into my mouth.
I then I shot my load into my fist and shuddered at the very idea of such an encounter!
***
It was the following Monday morning that my phone buzzed. It was Mike.
"Still no playing partner. Wondered if you'd like a re-match?" said the message. It wasn't so busy that I couldn't play hooky for a few hours so I responded and drove over to the club.
I don't know why but I guess I must have assumed that caddies were just randomly selected. Whoever just happened to be about. But as I pulled my club bag out of the boot, Mike rounded the corner with Dom and Vince in tow. The memory of the changing room crashed back into my head.
"Oh!" I blurted. "Er...hi!"
Mike looked slightly embarrassed but strangely quiet. It was Dom that spoke.
"We'll caddy for free, but only on the same terms as last time," he said, looking me in the eye.
I paused. The two lads stared at me casually. Mike was gazing at the ground. I was pretty sure I knew what he meant but just in case...
"You mean the bet you had?"
"Sure," grunted Dom. "Loser sucks us off."
