— originally published in
Inches magazine - August, 1999 issue —
While riding the bus last week, I noticed a
muscular, well-built black man, probably early thirties. I estimate he
was between six-two and six-four.
I was sitting in the middle of the last row of seats, which span the
width of the bus. He sat in the middle of a three-seat row that is
perpendicular to my row. No one was sharing his row of seats, although a
couple of guys were in the row opposite. He had on a sleeveless T-shirt
from a popular straight bar in Georgetown, along with black jeans and
black boots. I noticed a wedding ring. He had a shaved head and was
holding a cap. He sported a well-trimmed goatee.
The way he was sitting, I could hardly ignore his heavy-packed crotch
between his strong thighs. Then I noticed a tattoo down his left arm
spelling out what I took to be his nickname, "BULL."
I guess I was staring a little too much, because all of a sudden I was
aware that he had noticed me. Rather than do anything to express the
usual straight macho paranoia or hostility, he positioned himself to
give me a better view. After a few seconds he moved his hand over his
crotch, rubbing himself, but a making it look like he was simply
adjusting his crotch and his position in the seat.
He looked up at me and our eyes caught and held. Coming to his stop, he
reached up for the cord to signal the driver and jerked his head toward
the door, while looking at me.
I thought, "Should I get off the bus with him? But what about the ring?
He's married. Even if he likes to do it with guys, where would we go?
We're a couple of miles from my place. Maybe we can work out something
for later and I can catch the next bus."
"At any rate, even if I'm wrong and he doesn't want to talk to me, the
worst that could happen is that I wait for twenty minutes and pay again
for the next bus. I can deal with that," I thought. "Better than let an
encounter with this hot man escape me."
So I followed him off the bus, feeling very shy and tentative. After
all, from the look of this guy, he could have snapped me like a twig. I
am, after all, only five-ten, dark blond hair, and anything but a
bodybuilder. I swim, do some strength training and have a nicely defined
form, but I was not even close to is being in the same league as this
guy. To round out the short biography, I'm twenty-four and work
part-time at a bookstore while finishing my Master's in Economics.
He jogged down the bus steps and out into the warm autumn lt afternoon.
I followed a little slower, still tentative about what was going on.
There was a park on the corner. He walked in and headed for a bench,
looking back just once to see if I would follow. I did follow, and when
he got to the bench he just kind of stood in front of it, raised one leg
to the bench seat and propped himself up with his boot. Now I didn't
know whether to sit or stand--but in order to see him I decided to sit.
"Uh." I started out. "Hi. Do you live around here?"
"Yeah, I live a couple of blocks away. What about you--do *you* live
"No," I confessed. "I just got off the bus because, uhm, you look
"OK, why don't we walk over to my place and see what else looks
"Sure! But, well, what about your wife? I mean, I noticed your wedding
"Oh! Forgot it was on. I wear it to keep girls from hitting on me at the
bar. I'm sometimes the bouncer, and sometimes a bartender. White
sorority girls must get pins for making it with black guys, 'cause they
are all over the brothers who come to the bar and those of us who work
"Oh! I see." At least one major hurdle was crossed. "By the way," I
said, "my name is Matt."
"You can call me Bull. My name, for the record, is Leonard, but I
haven't used it in years."
"OK," I said, "nice to meet you, Bull." I extended my right hand to
shake his. He did the same and my hand was completely engulfed in his.
"So would you like to come over to my place, and we can get back to what
So we walked over to his place--a little over two blocks from the park.
Just light conversation. He's from Washington. I'm from Richmond,
Virginia. We exchanged other items of personal background, causing me to
relax and feel much more comfortable about going to Bull's home.
We got to his place and, immediately upon entering, he took my backpack
from my right shoulder and put it down on the entryway floor. He ushered
me into the living room and asked me if I wanted anything to drink.
"Just a glass of water."
While he got that--and a coke for himself--I looked around the room, and
into the adjacent dining room. Both were nicely done. I didn't know
enough about any of this to comment, other than to tell him, "You have a
really nice place."
"Thanks. No one ever believes that a bouncer at a bar can live in a nice
place. I guess we're all supposed to live in dives above pool halls," he
said with half a laugh. "Here--come over and sit down on the couch."
"Well ..." He seemed to be searching for the words, or having a hard
time saying what he wanted. "I, well, hope that you're a bottom, because
I've always wanted to get a hold of a hot bottom who looks like you.
You're really something."
I guess I had a stunned look on my face.
"Jeez," he said. "I hope that didn't scare you too much. I mean, we can
do other stuff too. You know, fool around without fucking. I mean, that
is why you're here--because you saw me and thought I was hot. And I saw
you and thought you were cute and sexy. Right?"
I went on. "As for you, uh, uh, fucking me ... well ..."
He was immediately on his feet, separating me from my glass of water,
and leading me down the hallway and into the bedroom. He showed me to
the bathroom, right off the bedroom, and told me I could clean up and
shower--he would do the same.
It was all too fast for me to say much, protest that I shouldn't be
using his bathroom, or anything. He flicked the CD player on, dropped
his clothes and headed for the hall bathroom. I got only a peek at his
impressive backside as I disappeared into the master bath.
I took some toothpaste and washed it around my mouth using my finger as
a toothbrush. I took a quick shower--making sure my butt was clean--as I
knew that was going to be the focus of Bull's attention. I toweled off
and wrapped the towel around me, heading back into the bedroom.
Bull came back into the room, towel tied low on his waist. Bull came
over to me, took my hand and turned me to him.
We stood at arm's length, looking each other over. Bull had virtually no
body hair--just a great expanse of mocha-colored skin with dark
chocolate-colored nipples. He had firm, rippling abdominals. The muscles
in his arms were strong and defined, his chest and shoulders were firm
He took my towel off of me, exposing my dick. It is just barely seven
inches hard, medium width, and right now straining against its skin,
wanting to be bigger, wanting to be able to reach over to Bull and feel
the heat of his skin.
Bull led me by the hand and half-guided me, half-lifting me, onto his
bed. He dropped his towel at the edge of the bed and climbed up, on top
of me, pressing his half-hard cock up against my hard-on.
The heat was tremendous. His skin, his arms around me, his cock resting
on my abdomen, his face hovering above me, his lips coming down on me,
kissing me, opening my lips and exploring my mouth with his tongue. I
moved my arms around him, feeling his skin and the muscles straining
He pulled away from my lips and gently nudged my head to one side. His
mouth reached up to my ear and the part of my neck right below it. He
licked and chewed on me, and it made me ache even more for him. I turned
my head more and he worked his lips across my neck, his teeth
occasionally chewing on my flesh.
In response to his stimulus, I forced my legs out from under his, and
raised them, pushing them up and around his thighs and buttocks. I
raised myself as if to open up to him, my hands ran down his sides and
reached to pull him tighter onto me.
He stopped working on my neck and raised himself up on his two strong
arms. Looking at me--bobbing his head down to kiss me a couple of times,
he told me to look down at his hard cock rising above my body as he
pushed my legs off of him and he lifted himself up to display his cock
Both of our bellies were sticky with the mixture of our pre-cum. His
cock was hard; the head was glazed with the sticky juice we had been
generating. The shaft is even thicker than the head and seemed to go
inches and inches back to his dark and hairy groin. Large tight balls
floated beneath the end of the shaft. He smiled at me.
He came back down on me and I raised my legs so that his cock brushed
against my butthole as he settled down and kissed me again.
He rolled off of me, picked up the towel from the floor and pulled lube
and a condom out of a drawer of the small stand next to the bed.
Back with me, he coaxed me to roll over on my stomach--although in
truth, little coaxing was needed. He took some of the lube and began to
work it into my ass. He kissed the cheeks of my ass while lubing me with
first one, and then two, fingers. He squirted more lube out of the
bottle and massaged it up and down the length of his cock. He pulled the
condom out of its package and unrolled it down his dick. He wiped the
excess lube off of his hand and knelt between my open legs, his hands
massaging my butt. He moved forward, his hands at either side of me and
his groin easing into my ass crack.
His cock found my entrance and he paused for just seconds. Then he
pushed into me--feeling me tense at the pain of his hard cock breaking
through my ass ring.
He whispered in my ear, "Tell me if it's too much. I'll hold it right
there until you tell me it's OK."
I nodded yes, unable to speak. And the pain did subside and then I felt
the fullness of his cock inside me and I needed more. I didn't say
anything; I just pushed myself back against him, fucking more of him
He took the cue and pushed himself forward--taking one long
stroke--moving into me until I could feel the curly pubic hair brushing
against me and his balls falling against my ass.
He rested at the bottom of my hole for just a moment; and then he began
to fuck, freely and with energy. Bull fucked me with long, hard strokes
and with shorter strokes that drove me wild as he entered and left my
ass--teasing me that he would take his cock away before I had had
Bull drove into me and stroked himself with the tight soft gate of my
anal canal. He put his arms around me and told me how good I felt--how
hot it felt to have his cock inside of me--how close he was to cumming-how
much he wanted to shoot his load inside of me and stay in me--pulsing
his cock against the walls of my ass until it was too soft to torture me
He started to pump faster and harder. Sometimes all the way into me and
sometimes just the first three or four inches--the more sensitive cock
head and the shaft right below it. He stroked until he told me he was
close to cumming--close to shooting his load into my ass.
I had been grinding my hard cock against the bed--moving back and forth
against Bull as my own cock was stroked and caressed by the soft sheets.
Bull ran one hand under my body, took my cock in his hand and started
stroking it. "Cum with me."
The whole thing was so hot and exciting that I started to cum. "I'm
shooting--I'm cumming," I said this mostly to the mattress. But Bull
felt my sperm shooting into his hand as he stroked my cock.
This spurred him to finish--stroking harder in my ass. Within moments he
was making unintelligible noises, the sounds of a man losing control of
Finally, Bull said, "Shit, man, your ass is so hot--I'm cumming in
it--I'm fucking cumming in it!" Bull trembled as he came--his hips
ground into me as cock pulsed--each spasm carrying another volley of cum
to coat the well-used walls of my ass.
We laid there, his hand holding my cock and the sperm that was all over
it and the mattress. In a minute he rolled me onto my side, but his cock
stayed in me--hard and pulsing inside of me--like small shocks after a
Eventually, we separated. Bull took me back to his bathroom and we