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Worshipping a Black god

Based on a true story . . .

The day was starting to turn shitty for me. My scheduled Greyhound bus that was supposed to leave Atlanta for New York was delayed for five hours. I’d already been in the bus station for over an hour, and had to fight through the crowd to the appointment desk only to be delivered such news. I felt like wanting to rip my hair off my skin when the woman behind the counter told me that. The time was 11:17 a.m. That means I might as well kiss off wanting to get to New York today.

I had been sweating since I got in here like a roasted turkey, plus my bladder felt the urgency in wanting to burst. I took my luggage with me into the restroom to relieve myself. My eyes happened to admire the load of writings and obscene graffiti that adorned the wall while I handled my business. There was one that caught my attention and at first, I assumed it was some joke, but that didn’t seem like it.

The words read: WM4BBC I LOVE SUCKING BLACK COCK . . .

The fool even wrote down his number. I wouldn’t have bothered about it if it weren’t for what came beneath that . . .


Now that seemed to whet my appetite. I haven’t had no pussy in weeks, and the thought of sitting in this oven station waiting for five hours for a bus that’s allegedly on its way didn’t seem appealing to me. No fucking way. I needed some possible means of distracting myself. What better way to do than me getting my dick sucked by a white boy and possibly fucking his bitch girlfriend as a bonus.

I zipped up my fly, then typed the fool’s number on my phone and went outside the building to call him. The fool picked up at the third ring. Makes me wonder how long since he made that restroom advert and whether he’s been waiting for such a call since.


“Hi. Are you Nacho?”

“Yes, this is me.”

“I’m calling about the wall posting you made at the—”

“Oh, yes! You saw it then? Yes, I made that.”

The fool sounded way too elated like I was his first customer or something. “Yeah, well, I want to know if you’re still offering, and whatever rate you go by.”

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I have to inquire if you’re African-American?”

“No, I’m not African-American,” I answered, “but I am black from the Motherland.”

“African? For real? What country in Africa are you from?”

I told him. That excited him even more.

“Wow, it’s an honour to speak with a true black man,” he gushed over the phone. “You would be doing me the great favour to allow me suck your cock for you.”

“What about your girlfriend? She still part of the package?”

“Yes, sir. She truly is. She isn’t home right now, but I know she’ll be back in the next hour. Are you chanced to come by today?”

“That depends on where you are,” I said.

He quoted me his address and when I told him where I was, he figured how much it would cost to bring me to him. He said that if even I wanted to stay the night, he won’t mind accommodating. I told him I would catch a cab and be there soon enough.

“Very well, sir. I look forward to meeting you,” he said.

“Yeah, me, too, white boy. Me, too.”

I hung up after that and walked down Forsyth street to see about catching a taxi. With five hours still ahead of me, I figure I could make good time before returning to catch my bus. I hailed a cab and gave him the address after settling in the backseat, and then we took off.

The white boy lived in a respectable neighbourhood in College Park. It took me an hour to get there. The taxi dropped me in front of a brownstone building and I paid the cabbie, then got out my phone and called the white boy. He came down and met me at the curb.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, sir,” he said after shaking my hand, then offered to take one of my luggage from me. “Please follow me. I hope the ride wasn’t long and boring.”

“It was boring,” I said. “Any chance of me taking a shower first?”

“Sure, of course, sir. My place is yours.”

We rode an elevator to the third floor where he lived. I didn’t ask the white boy what he did for living, but I bet he paid a pretty penny for that paid because it looked expensive. He showed me the bedroom—it was bigger than the last hour-star hotel I’d been staying—and showed me where the bathroom was at. I stripped off my clothes and went inside the wash the morning heat off my head and body. It felt damn refreshing by the time I came out dripping water on the floor. The white boy had left me a bunch of towels to use. He asked if I wanted something to eat; I told him to get me a beer instead.

The white boy brought me my beer. I loosened off my towel and let it fall to the floor; my penis stood out half-erect. The fool saw my cock and I thought I saw his eyes lit up. He didn’t need any request from me; he dropped to his knees and first kissed the tip of my penis before putting it into his mouth. The white boy went on sucking my cock hard while I guzzled my beer. Between the feel of his mouth on my cock, and me drinking the beer, it felt like I was standing near heaven’s gate.

“Looks like you’re a good cuck sucker, white boy,” I complimented him. “Your name actually Nacho?”

He stopped to stroke my cock while he answered me. “No, sir. It’s Joel.”

“Nice work you’re doing, Joel. Where’s your bitch at? Thought you told me she’d be here?”

“She will be, sir,” he said. “I called her a minute ago. She’s on her way.”

“She’d better be, Joel. I don’t want you sucking my dick all alone.”

He muttered some response, but it was taken up by the sluicing noise of his lips and tongue rubbing against my foreskin. The white boy sure had skills with his tongue. It wasn’t my first time getting my dick sucked like this, but I’d admit I’d yet met a white fool who could do it with the same skills he’s got.

“Go on, dig into my balls, too, white boy,” I murmured, to which he applied his tongue accordingly. “Yeah. That’s a good sissy. I bet you can’t wait to see me devastate your bitch, right, sissy white boy?”

“I sure as fuck cannot wait, sir,” he replied before continuing to spite on my dick.

“You and your bitch love to worship black gods like me?”

“Fuck, yes, sir! Always we serve black gods wherever and whenever.” He stopped to lick spite off my dick before adding, “I’ve even got a cuckold tattoo, sir.”

Minutes passed before he heard footsteps approaching the door. We looked up when the door opened and a woman walked in. She looked like she had been out shopping from the bags she held in both hands. Nothing about what we were doing seemed to shock her as she then dropped her bags and came to kneel beside the white boy.

“Sir, allow me to introduce my girlfriend, Cynthia, to you.”

“Nice meeting you, Cynthia,” I smiled. “Hope you know what to do with a black stick.”

“I certainly do, sir,” she answered.

She wrenched my cock from her man’s grip and blew on the tip, then rolled her tongue over it. That got me buzzing in my head when she did that. Goosebumps broke over my arm the instant she began sucking me. If I thought her man was good, she was way terrific at blowing me. I definitely would give her a good medal while her white boy will settle for the silver.

They took turns on my dick, kissing the length of foreskin, connecting tongues and kissing each other, but always returning to my cock. Cynthia dug under my legs to attack my nuts, then later they both gave me rim job.

Cynthia took a break to strip off her outfit while her boyfriend went on polishing my knob, then she came to me, and I lifted her into my arms and took her to bed.


TO BE CONTINUED . . . on IR/Cuckold Avenue

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