It caught my attention from across the empty locker room. I was sitting on the bench tying my shoes when i looked up for a split second and saw it.
I could not believe how big it was.
Long, thick, and black, it hung down low against his thigh. Fully flaccid, it was definitely bigger than I was when hard. I quickly averted my eyes, but they found their way back to his hanging dick. I couldn't help but stare. I felt frozen.
Stereotypes must come from somewhere, I thought to myself. My eyes traced up and down his oversized dick and massive balls in disbelief. My mind raced, bouncing from thought to thought with rapid succession. From flashes of interracial porn and girls I knew who dated black guys, to weirder things, like visions of this guy fucking my exes.
Part of my mind was telling me not to stare, to look away. But that was overwhelmed by a crazy combination of hard-to-describe feelings.
My thoughts were hardly interrupted by a deep voice. I got caught. I knew it had only been a couple of seconds, but it felt like longer to me.
"Like what you see, white boy?" he asked, his voice resonating off the locker room walls.
I finally looked away and felt myself turn red. I stammered a few times, staring at the floor, not really getting out any actual words. Before I could get out a coherent sentence he cut me off.
"I caught you white boy, and I've seen that that look before," he said, taking some slow steps towards me. His voice was calm, deep, and commanding.
I looked up. His cock slowly swung from side to side with each step as he came towards me. I looked him in the face, then back at his dick, and averted my eyes in shame. I thought about getting up, but didn't.
He stopped a few feet in front of me. Since I was still sitting, his manhood hung down around my eye level. It looked even bigger, thicker, close up. I didn't know what to do. I looked away from his massive dick and stared at the floor again. He stopped about two feet away from me. His dick at eye level. I saw it in the top of my my periphery and did my best to keep staring at the floor.
"So this is the first black dick you seen?" he asked, grabbing it by the base for effect. "In person, that is. I know you seen some little white girls getting railed by a BBC online, right? Much more impressive in person, isn't it?"
My heart was pounding. My mind raced. What was happening here?
I looked up from the ground as he stood in front of me. He was holding his towel in his left hand and caressing his enormous balls with his right. He was completely naked, fresh out of the shower, and in amazing shape. I wanted to leave, but I felt like a deer in headlights.
My eyes met with his for a moment, but I couldn't hold eye contact. When I broke my gaze, my eyes went downward, his enormous dick hanging right in front of me. I found myself staring for a moment. It was thick. When I realized what I was doing, I sheepishly looked down at the floor again.
He laughed. Then he cleared his throat.
"You're a quiet one," he said, his tone much more serious than before, "Are you just a shy little white boy, or does this black dick have you at a loss for words?
I felt nervous. I couldn't answer his last question. I am totally straight, just going to the gym. But I was at a loss for words. The way my eyes kept going towards this enormous black dick, almost instinctually, had me reeling. A big part of my brain was saying to leave.
Instead, I silently stared at my shoes. Just a few minutes ago, all I was doing was putting on these shoes. One was still untied.
"Look up. Now, white boy," he said, with an authoritative tone. "Stare straight ahead, like this." He grabbed my head by the hair and gently, but firmly, held my head so I was staring straight at his dick, and pulled me a bit forward. It looked bigger than before. "Don't try to look away. I saw you staring"
With his fingers on the back of my hair I listened. I let my eyes take in this naked black man standing in front of me. His dick looked like a limp Red Bull can, hanging pendulously past oversized balls. He had a six pack above that, and I found myself thinking he must go to the gym a lot. I noticed he smelled good and then felt myself involuntarily gulp.
"Now c'mon son," he said, taking his hand off of my head, "Tell me what you think of this black dick. Thats all i'm asking. Shouldn't be too hard. Or do you want to see it hard?" he laughed, grabbing his flaccid by the base and waving it around for me. The tip was inches from my face.
I didn't say anything. I felt frozen. It was all so crazy. The voice in my head saying to leave was getting quieter, while a mix of feelings like awe, fear, confusion, and unexpected arousal took over.
"Listen, if you are going to just sit there slack jawed, I'm gonna have to take matters into my own hands," he said.
I didn't have any words. Not that he gave me much time. About a half a second later he stepped towards me and started to rub his balls near my lips and slapped his dick against my cheek. I recoiled a bit, but remained sitting.
"Ya'll white boys always need a little encouragement," he said, putting his hand on the back of my head. I didn't fight him, but I felt him grabbing me a little more firmly than before.
The slightly rougher physical contact shook me. The voice telling in my head telling me to I go came back louder. A wave of embarrassment and fear in this situation washed over me.
"We need to stop this," I pleaded meekly, doing my best to look away, "What if someone comes in?"
"Oh, now you speak up? he sneered, "Listen, bitch, ain't no one coming in here. It's late. Too late. And if they do, just let me worry bout it."
I felt like I had to get out of there. It had gone too far. It was all too much. When I tried to adjust my seat on the bench I noticed that my own dick was rock hard, pressing up against my shorts. He was definitely bigger soft than I was hard. I felt a different kind of embarrassment, shame, and confusion. I wanted to go home, jerk off, and never think of this again.
I tried to get up, but he put his big strong hand on my shoulder and sat me back down. He kept his hand in my hair, but i noticed that he didn't use that to sit me back down. I offered little to no resistance, feeling like a child in his presence.
"Sit down. You ain't goin' nowhere right now." He sounded mad. My heart raced.
"So, one last time, white boy. And it's important," he stressed, "What do you think of this black dick?"
I looked down at it again. I didn't need to. I already knew.