Summary:
Straight married man sacrifices wife to his black Master.
Note 1:
This story is dedicated to
goamz86
and in making one of his fantasies as real as possible.
Note 2:
Thanks to goamz86, Robert, Wayne for editing this series.
Note 3:
Although this story is mostly a GAY interracial story, it is really a much deeper story about one man's lengthy journey of sexual self-discovery. Besides being about a man becoming a cocksucker, it's also about the changing relationship in the bedroom with his lovely wife.
In the first part of this trilogy,
Black Cock: 1 Day Changes Everything,
Greg catches his friend being ass fucked by a 18-ear-old black boy. Soon he is drawn into the world of sexual gay submission as he is unable to resist the temptation of sucking black cock. Meanwhile, slowly he also becomes more submissive to his beautiful loving wife who has no idea of his newfound lust for black dick.
In the second part of this trilogy (way longer than originally planned, but the plot just kept going and going),
Black Cock: 10 Inch Cock Training
, Greg submits unconditionally to Malcolm both as a cocksucker and an ass taker, accepting that he can't live without black cock, or cock in general. Meanwhile, he also became a submissive ass slut and sex slave to his beautiful wife.
A reminder of how part 2 ended:
FRIDAY
I wore a new pair of thigh highs.
All day I anticipated a text from Malcolm that didn't come.
That night, after dinner, Marcia asked, "Going through withdrawal, slut?"
I smiled, Carol gone to the lake for the weekend, "Yes, Mistress."
She pulled down her skirt and revealed she already was wearing her big black ass breaking strap-on cock.
My mouth watered and my ass tingled.
Then the doorbell rang.
"You better get that," she smiled, "I'm not ready for company."
"I'll be back, ASAP," I said, planning to get rid of whoever was at the door... ready and eager to get her cock in my ass.
"I'll be upstairs, my slut," she said, heading to the bedroom.
"Yes, Mistress," I nodded, heading to the door.
I opened the door and froze.
"Hi, cocksucker," he greeted, "or should I say hi, faggot."
And now, the exciting conclusion of
Big Black Cock:
"Please, not now," I pleaded, immediately stressed.
"Is that any way to greet your Master?" He asked, a smug smile on his face.
"Sorry, Master," I apologized, terrified that Marcia could come back downstairs any second.
"I told you I would see you on Friday," he explained, as he walked past me and into my home.
I whispered, "Please Master, I don't want my marriage to end."
"If I recall, you were quite willing to allow your wife to watch you suck me or even ass fuck you," he countered with a shrug.
"I just said that in the heat of the moment," I protested.
"It's what you say in the heat of the moment that is most true," he countered philosophically, as if he was Mr. Miyagi in the Karate Kid (the 1980s version, not the awful unnecessary remake).
I didn't argue with his theory, instead continuing my pleading, "Please, Master, I'll do anything."
He closed the door hard enough for it to make a thud.
Marcia called out, "Hurry up, little dick, I have an ass to fuck."
Malcolm chuckled, "Was I interrupting something?"
I called back, worried she may come down soon and be caught almost naked, "We have company."
"This is going to be an epic evening," Malcolm proclaimed, as he walked into my living room.
"Please," I begged, even though I knew I was literally and figuratively fucked.
"Go tell her you forgot you invited me over to work on football strategy," he suggested.
A slight glimmer of hope that he wasn't going to out me today arrived and I nodded, "Okay." I quickly went upstairs
"Take your time," he smirked. "If she wants to prep that ass of yours for me that would be fine."
Fuck, I sighed to myself as I went to explain to my wife what was going on, even though I had no idea what was actually going on.
I went to my room and knocked on the door.
"It's me," I said, before walking in.
The strap-on was off, and she was pulling jeans up her hips, her thigh highs still on underneath.
"Did they hear me?" She asked, clearly mortified.
"Yes," I nodded, "but I told him it was an inside joke."
"Who is he?" She asked.
"Malcolm, the kid I'm mentoring," I replied.
"The black boy from the athletics banquet?" She asked.
"Yeah," I nodded, still nervous as hell.
"Why is he here?" She asked.
"Apparently, I offered to work with him tonight," I replied.
"I can't go downstairs after what I said," she said, still mortified.
"Trust me," I lied, "He didn't take it seriously."
"How couldn't he?" She asked. "I was pretty graphic."
"I don't think he heard all of it," I replied.
"I don't know," she said.
"It's up to you," I replied, actually hoping she would stay upstairs as I still wasn't completely sure what Malcolm's intentions were.
She said, "I think I'll stay up here and read."