I met Jamal at the gym after spotting his thick black cock swinging in the showers. No names at first, just eye contact and a nod toward the exit. We ended up at his apartment, door barely shut before he shoved me against the wall.
"Strip, white boy," he growled, already yanking his shorts down. His dick flopped out heavy, veiny, and half-hard, dark skin stretched tight over that fat shaft. I dropped my clothes fast. He grabbed my head and pushed me down. "Suck it."
I opened wide and took the head in. It was thick, stretching my lips. Jamal thrust forward, feeding me more until it hit the back of my throat. Spit ran down my chin as he face-fucked me hard, balls slapping my jaw. "Yeah, choke on that black dick," he said, holding my head steady. I gagged but kept sucking, tongue working the underside while he pumped.
He pulled out, strings of spit connecting us. "Turn around." I bent over the couch. Jamal spread my ass and spat on my hole, then pressed that massive cockhead against it. One hard push and he was inside, stretching me open raw. I grunted loud as he buried every inch, balls deep in one stroke. No easing in, just straight pounding.
He fucked me like he owned it, hips slamming, that thick black cock dragging over my prostate with every thrust. Sweat dripped off him onto my back. "Take it, slut," he grunted, slapping my ass hard. My own dick leaked onto the couch as he railed me. He pulled out, flipped me onto my back, and shoved back in missionary style, legs pushed up to my chest. I watched his dark shaft disappear into my hole, shiny with spit and precum.
Jamal leaned down and kissed me rough, tongue invading my mouth while he drilled deeper. He reached between us and stroked my cock in time with his thrusts. "Gonna breed this tight white ass," he said. His pace got brutal, bed creaking, skin slapping loud. I came first, shooting ropes across my stomach without touching myself much. My hole clenched around him and he roared, pumping hot cum deep inside me, filling me until it leaked out around his cock.
He didn't pull out right away. Instead he kept rocking slow, pushing his load deeper. When he finally slid free, I felt empty and used. But he wasn't done. He flipped me again, had me ride him on the floor, his hands gripping my hips while I bounced on that still-hard black dick. Cum and spit squelched with every drop. He made me suck him clean between rounds, then bent me over the kitchen counter for round two, pounding me until I shot again and he flooded me a second time.
We ended up in the shower, him holding me up against the tiles, legs wrapped around his waist, that cock sliding back into my cum-slick hole for one last slow, deep fuck. Water ran over us as he came again, marking me inside. By the time we finished, my ass was sore, stretched, and dripping. I left with his number and a promise to come back for more free interracial gay sex stories of my own.
