Head hung low, shoulders hunched, Carter marched home through the chilly, misty night largely ignoring the city around him. In fairness, there was little to notice: a few late commuters, the occasional car passing by kicking up spray from the wet road, and the odd flicker from one of the countless neon signs hanging overhead or dangling in shop windows dictating that near enough everywhere was closed for the night.
He had seen it all before, of course, which was a contributing factor to his disinterest. Working at a late-night restaurant you became accustomed to the muted sounds of the sleeping city during the week, while walking home on the weekend was like trying to traverse an obstacle course of staggering drunkards and patches of vomit.
The other key factor in his despondency, however, was the deeply exhausting shift he had just finished. Not physically exhausting – well, no more than usual – but mentally and emotionally. One of the kitchen staff had been loudly joking about Carter being gay as he often did, but to his severe misfortune one of his customers had overheard. As it turned out, he was one of those sorts who would rather feed on his own intestines than be served by a faggot, an opinion he had enforced so loudly the entire restaurant had spent a good ten minutes of their life watching with second-hand embarrassment his explosive tirade.
At that moment he felt a shiver tickle his nape and paused to turn around. He had the vague feeling he was being watched yet the only occupant of the street was a middle-aged woman looking far too tired to be out at such a late hour huddled up in a bus shelter on the street corner. Shrugging, Carter continued his homeward commute, clutching his coat a little tighter around himself to stave off the cold.
Carter was good friends with the cook whose comments had inadvertently sparked the situation, who had apologised profusely after hearing of the event, and he was more than aware the cook’s words had been in jest. But after being publicly belittled and berated by the tomato-faced man with opinions from the 1950s the apologies had been unable to ease his sour mood. His manager – a man with the backbone of an earthworm – had been more concerned in soothing the customer’s anger than supporting Carter, and the only small relief he had recieved since the event were a handful of customers approaching him to quietly insult both the customer and his manager and slip him a few extra tips.
Still, he felt dismally miserable. He was so sick of rude customers and spineless managers, payslips that barely let him cover his rent and spending all hours holed up in the wretched restaurant. Getting a new job wasn’t easy in this city, and without one he would end up on the street for men like his customer to point at and spit on.
Again, there was the impression of being watched and he pivoted sharply in the hopes of catching the perpetrator. Again, the street was empty. It wouldn’t have been the first time he had been followed home: every now and then a drugged-up crackhead would do so thinking he was their dealer. They were easy enough to ward off, but tonight it appeared the only one playing tricks on him was his own mind.
Walking on he veered into a side-street. Having never been able to afford a car while also paying for his flat, over time Carter had memorised practically every alleyway and backstreet in the city. At this point he would wager good money he could get across the city quicker than most cabbies could, and this route cut off a solid ten minutes from his journey.
He was just thinking about how much he was looking forward to curling up beneath his nice warm covers and putting this whole rotten day behind him when a large figure stepped out from under a doorway.
Crunching to a halt, Carter sighed. What a night to get mugged. Still, he didn’t have his wallet on him and his phone was stuffed to the bottom of his backpack: maybe he could get out of this without too much trouble.
He heard the second man come up behind him, and he held out his hands in surrender. ‘Look, guys, I don’t want any trouble. Got nothing on me,’ he pulled out the pockets of his trousers and jacket, only a half-pack of mints and an old bus pass dropping to the floor, ‘see?’
‘We’re not here for your cash,’ smiled the first man, ‘we’ve got something different in mind.’ He was tall, black and bald, and it took a moment for Carter to recognise him. He had been a customer in the restaurant while the middle-aged homophobe was transitioning through shades of red. He had been with two other men, and a quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that one of them was the man behind him.
Before he could say anything, though, the second man had come up behind him and Carter was acutely aware of how small he was in comparison. ‘We think you should come with us. We have something special in mind.’
As if on cue, the street was flooded with light. The glossy black car had been hidden in the shadows, but now the headlights flared into life and behind the wheel Carter could see the third man.
The second man took Carter by the shoulders as the first came up to him. ‘Trust us, you’ll enjoy it very much. Get in the car, gorgeous. We don’t ask twice…’
It had taken much less time than he had expected for Carter to come to agree with the men. Though their methods were somewhat cloak and dagger, the explanation for why had been disarmingly simple; the large bald man was a wealthy businessman whose competitors would bring him to hasty ruin if they found out he was asking back pretty young men to his place. But as it happened even before the furious man at the restaurant had outed Carter as gay to everyone in attendance, he and his gay lovers had already been eyeing him up hungrily. The confirmation that he was gay only convinced them further to follow him after his shift and persuade him to spend the night in their arms.
According to the bald man, whose name was Angelo, Carter was just the kind of guy he and his lovers enjoyed spending time with, and he promised that nobody would have satisfied him before like they would.
Carter would not have described himself as easy, but he was not the kind of guy to turn down a little fun when it came his way. Sure, it was an odd way to go about things, but the guys were hot as fuck and the way his day had gone he figured he deserved the chance to let off some steam. He might even make some new fuck buddy friends in the process.
Now he was in Angelo’s house – although mansion would have been a better descriptor – he could not quite believe his luck. Lying back on the bed, Angelo was smiling softly as Carter went down on him with increasing enthusiasm. The black man was smoking as Carter pleasured him, and the scent of the smoke combined with Angelo’s natural musk drove the young man wild. Though he had always wanted to try one, he had never tasted a black cock before. Arousal crashed through him pushing all rational thought to the side. Any apprehension was gone, replaced by deep-rooted longing.
Angelo’s two lovers were stood at the foot of the bed, stroking their cocks and admiring Carter’s bobbing ass. It was only a matter of time before one of them made their move.
The moment one stepped forward, however, Angelo held up a staying hand.
‘Not yet. I want his ass first. You can try him later.’
Carter groaned, his heart skipping a beat. Angelo’s cock was enormous: he could barely swallow half of it without choking on his meat. Now the time was here for him to take it in his ass he wasn’t sure he was ready. Still, the thought of being pushed to his limits was fucking hot. Even better he was about to be spit-roasted by two hot black dudes. Almost as soon as he’d got in their car he had known it would happen eventually, but the thrill of excitement ripped through him all the same now it was happening.
Spinning Carter around, Angelo aligned himself behind his eager ass. Resting his massive cock on Carter’s ass cheeks he beckoned the other man forward to kneel on the bed. It was the driver.
Carter had to admit once he’d fully understood the turn his night had taken his naughty side had immediately fought for dominance. It had been all he could do to not bow down and start sucking their cocks in the back of the car.
The driver was not as big as Angelo but he was notably thicker and Carter’s gasp was muffled as he sank his cock down his throat. His taste was sharper and stronger, but neither dissuaded him from practically inhaling the perfect cock, welcoming the tears that streamed down his face as he gagged.
All at once Carter’s vision blurred and his body burned like he’d been doused in petrol and thrown into a bonfire. Angelo’s cock pushing inside him was a mind-splitting sensation. He was so big. Carter had never felt so full in his life, the understanding that every cock had ever taken was like a dagger to Angelo’s broadsword clear in his mind as pleasure hit him with all the force of a jet-propelled freight train. All he could do to process it was emit a gurgling groan around the driver’s dick. Then Angelo was thrusting and the only thing Carter could think to do was bob his head in time to the motion.
The men manhandled him in ways he had never known he wanted. Their firm grasp on his body and the ease with which they were able to move him made him feel like one of those small wooden mannequins artists used. Every thrust sent lights popping across his vision, waves of desire crashing through his body, and the strong, pungent flavour of the driver’s cock filled his mouth and nose until he was pretty much certain he was addicted to it.
How could he ever go back after this? How could any ordinary man compare to these gods? He had always suspected if he ‘went black’ as they say he would not be going back, and now he was sure of it. They were using him like a fleshlight, a toy they had picked up at a sex store, but he didn’t care. In fact, he loved it. Giving up the power to these powerful creatures was liberating beyond anything he had ever experienced, and he never wanted it to end.
Even better, he was more than aware it would not end anytime soon. The third man was still off to the side, stroking his cock, and Carter knew once Angelo and the driver had unloaded in him and passed him to the stroking man they would build themselves up to use him again.
‘You know,’ Angelo grunted, plunging so deep Carter yelped excitedly, ‘you’re by far the best white boy we’ve had here. Nice and tight and slutty. I ain’t seen a white bitch suck cock like that for years. When we saw you tonight we were just thinking this would be a one night stand but I can’t give up a fuck like this that easy.
‘See, the thing is, I can’t be having my fuck boy walking home late at night like you were tonight. Anybody could jump you, and most stalkers don’t have our good intentions. No, you’re going to get a new job. One where I can keep an eye on you. I’m thinking, maybe my personal assistant.’
This time Carter did choke. His gasp sucked the driver’s cock against the back of his throat and he came away spluttering even as Angelo continued to thrust.
‘Are you serious?’ he said incredulously. His expression of shock was intercut with face of irrepressible pleasure as Angelo sank into him again and again.
‘Do you have a problem with that?’
‘N-no,’ Carter stammered around the pleasure, ‘it’s just I…’
‘Good,’ Angelo cut him off, ‘then get back to your meal little boy.’ Gently he guided Carter’s mouth back to the driver’s twitching dick, which he happily swallowed again. ‘So you’ll hand your notice in to that dickhead manager of yours first thing tomorrow, effective immediately. After that you’ll come and work as my PA. Don’t worry though, you won’t have to do much. That is until I call you into my office… or my car, or the cleaning cupboard, or anywhere else I fancy being personally assisted. And you won’t have to live in a crappy little flat anymore. I own this nice place just out of town just for my playthings: its discrete and means I know exactly where to find them. I’m sure you’ll like it, boy. After all, you’ll be moving in with these two bits of ass and you’re already getting along with them real well. And if I collect any other toys, they’ll be joining you too. What do you say?’
Without warning, Carter came all across the bedsheets with a shuddering moan. He had never experienced an orgasm like it and if it weren’t for the strong black hands holding him in place he would certainly have collapsed onto the bed.
Looking down, Angelo laughed a deep, attractive laugh.
‘Don’t worry, bitch, we’ll work your stamina up. I think that’s a yes, boys. Let’s show him what a good decision he’s made…’
Thanks for reading!
I have to say, as far as my gay fantasies go, this has to be up near the top of my list. As I have mentioned before I have a list of story ideas I came up with when I first decided I wanted to start writing erotic content, and this was one of the first ones I wrote down. Once I started writing a lot of the premises I came up with were left on the backburner because the wouldn’t fit in short one to two page pieces like the ones I usually put out, but once I knew I was going to do a month of gay stories I knew I had to include this one. I think the thing I love most about it is that it is realistically possible; there’s no magic, no mad science, no transformation pills or hypnosis or brainwashing. It’s all just lust and hot sex, and having worked in the hospitality sector myself I personally can’t think of a hotter way to end a shift.
If you are into gay content you may already know who the main black model in this is: Rhyheim Shabazz. He has stormed onto the gay scene this past year and puts out most of his work through his OnlyFans and Justfor.Fans. His content is absolutely awesome, and I highly recommend you check him out if you enjoyed this piece. His Twitter is here: https://twitter.com/srhyheim?lang=en and includes links to his other platforms.
The white model is Aiden Ward, who also produces great content. He doesn’t have a PornHub account I can find, and his Men.com account is pretty bare but I’ll link it anyway for those who are interested: https://www.men.com/modelprofile/51777/aiden-ward
Unfortunately, I am unable to provide a link to the scene I used for this piece. I downloaded it when I initially found it, but when I checked the link when proofreading this piece it had been removed. I do, however, know the title of the piece. It generally goes by the title of ‘Rhyheim Shabazz, Fame, Leon and Aiden Ward’ or something similar, and you can find it in various different places online.
Make sure to come back later in the week because the last few days of April are going to be packed with new content.
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See my comments above regarding the lack of a video link.
