Speedos Are For Real Men

In three weeks they would be headed to Hawaii. Tim was excited. He was in love with his wife, Jane. Who wouldn’t be? She was the kind of woman to die for.

Dark auburn hair, long lashes, deep blue eyes that you could swim in. Her body was amazing. Although she was slim and fit, she had plump full breasts. They were heavy and full of milk. Ready for their children, he thought. If pregnant, she could easily breast feed a small village. And her ass was round, firm, forming a perfect “W” from behind. She had two dimples right above her ass, the kind that only certain women have. Tim loved to touch her ass. He loved to grab one of her tits with both of his hands, and act as if he were a small boy being breast-fed.

This wasn’t such a strange act, because in one very significant way, Tim was like a small boy. He wasn’t short — no, he was 6 feet tall. He wasn’t a babyface – no, he had a normal, even square, jaw, and a full head of hair. He wasn’t even slight — no, he had a nice muscular physique, and could fill out a shirt. Rather, Tim was a small boy in much more private way.

Tim had a tiny weeny. A little prick. A dicklet. Call it what you will. It was three inches… that’s hard. Thickness? You might as well talk about a Twizler. In fact, one could say his penis was slight or thin. What was even more embarrassing was that when soft, Tim’s penis would shrivel up, so that one could only see the tip of its head with a slit of a little peehole. It didn’t hang. It poked out, as if someone stapled a little mushroom to his lower stomach. Needless to say, he avoided men’s locker rooms.

His balls were also rather small — about the size of the gumballs that you get out of the quarter machines in the supermarket. They were shy testicles. Like frightened mice, they liked to shrink up, right into his crotch. Most of the time it looked like Tim only had one ball, because the other would shrivel up and shrink into his body. A little mushroom and below it one ball in a tight scrotum.

But Jane loved Tim. She loved how he was a friendly guy, and had a good solid job. Sure, his accounting job brought home the bacon. They could afford a house and a car, and even some nice jewelry for Christmas. She also enjoyed talking to him. They had great conversation.

Of course, Tim was the only man that Jane had ever been with. They started going out in high school and got married shortly after graduation. Sure, she had heard that other men had “big ones”, but she’d never seen them, and always assumed that Tim was at least average.

The plan now was for Hawaii. Boy, were they excited!

They had to get swimming suits, and went to the new mall on the West side of town. All the stores were hip and cool, the suits and designs were trendy. They found a new bathing suit/beach ware store right away. It was set up like a giant warehouse, with exposed brick walls and air condition ducts. You could see heating pipes stretching from the floor to the ceiling, the showroom was covered with mosaic tile. Overhead, large black speakers blared electronic music with a catchy beat.

They first looked for Jane. She was easy. She filled out any bathing suit. And they found a conservative one piece blue suit that barely contained her bust.

“Why don’t we go shopping for you now?” Jane said.

“Sure,” said Tim agreeably, “here’s a suit”. He had picked out some surf shorts with a Hawaiian pattern.

“I like those.” Jane smiled. “What about these?” She giggled. She pointed to a pair of red square brief Speedos. She giggled again, thinking about how she used to call Speedos “ball huggers” when she was young.

“Ha ha, Jane, that’s funny. I would never be caught dead in those.”

“Oh come on Timmy, it’d be fun. Try them on for me. If we go to Europe, you’d have to wear Speedos. That’s what I’ve heard all the men do.”

“No way.”

“Please,” Jane said, “I’ll let you kiss my special friends.” She softly touched her breasts, and gave him a shy demure look.

“You are a beautiful woman, Jane. But no, I think Speedos are for dorks, not real men.”

“Please, Timmy. I’ll kiss it later,” she offered, glancing down at his crotch. She rocked back and forth.

Tim paused. Jane did not like to give fellatio to Tim. She didn’t even like to touch his penis. She thought it was dirty. Tim thought this might be an opportunity. He thought to himself, well I don’t want to wear a Speedo, but a blowjob would be awesome! I’ll just try it on, and then I won’t buy it, he planned.

“Ok”, Tim said.

“Great!!!”

“But I’ll try the surf shorts first. Where’s the dressing room?”

They walked to the back of the store. There were two stalls set against expose brick walls. Each was a typical white stall, with a swinging door and a small area behind it. Inside each was a mirror and little bench.

Both of the stalls were taken.

“I’ll wait for an open stall,” Tim said, “Why don’t you go get some other suits for me to try.”

“Sure,” Jane said. She walked through the store, looking for swim trunks. There were so many kinds. Surf shorts, cut low at the knee. Regular trunk, cut a bit higher. And, of course, tight little Speedos.

Suddenly, Jane noticed a shadow around her. From the corner of her eye, she could see a large man next to her. A large black man. A large Negro. He was looking at swim trunks. Actually, he was looking at Speedos. Jane saw that there were a number of Speedos. One Speedo in particular was lime-green and was cut like a woman’s thong with a pouch in front. For the ball hugging, she thought, giggling inside. Another was White and opaque, and was a little more generous in fabric. She was turned on by the thought of little bathing suits for men. The Speedos made her tingle.

To her surprise, the black man took the green pair and the white pair off the rack; he also took a blue pair. He noticed her looking at him, and smiled at her. She turned away, angry at herself for almost blushing.

The black man walked to the back of the store, where the changing stalls were. Jane could not help but notice that the black man had taken the pairs of Speedos that were marked “extra extra large” or “big and ample”.

Jane shook herself. What are you doing, she thought. Get the trunks and the one Speedo and get to thy husband, she commanded herself. She regained her composure, straightened her posture and went to the back of the store.

When she arrived at the stalls in the back of the store, she was confused. They were both occupied, but Tim was not around. He must be in one of the stalls, she thought. She debated yelling his name, but she thought that might be inappropriate. Could she look underneath? She wasn’t sure that would be appropriate. She bit her lip. Fudge, she thought, I’ll do it!

She bent over, and looked under the left stall. That wasn’t him, there were three black legs and two black feet. . . Three black legs? She took a double take. But now there were only two black legs and two black feet.

“Honey!” Tim yelled.

“Yes.” Jane stood up.

Tim came out of the right stall. He had the surf shorts on. “What do you think?” he asked.

“Not bad,” Jane said. “I like them. Try this on now.” She thrust a red Speedo into his hand.

Tim looked down. Ok, he thought to himself, I’ll do this, but she better kiss it later tonight. He grabbed the red Speedo from her without a word. He went into the right stall, and closed the door.

She heard a click to her left. Everything started to move in slow motion. The stall door opened, and the biggest blackest man she had ever seen slowly walked out. He was a sight. He had a chiseled jaw, and sharp dark eyes. His hair was slightly long and tied back. Gosh, Jane thought, he must be a model. She lower her gaze to his shoulders and chest. He was built like a pro athlete, with great biceps, solid shoulders and a slightly rippled chest. Her gaze lowered down to his stomach, which was a washboard of abdominal muscles. Uncontrollably, her mind felt her hand rubbing down this black man’s stomach, down and up each of his defined abs. The abs were covered with a slight trail of pubic hair down to. . . down to . . . her jaw opened slowly, dropping in slow motion.

Between the defined muscles of his tree-trunk-like legs was something quite puzzling, even shocking. It wasn’t the green Speedo he was wearing. It was what was inside, or rather stuffed tightly inside that green Speedo. Her mouth wide, Jane thought someone must have tied a large green water balloon to the front of this black man. A water balloon the size of a small melon. Only this water balloon bulged out, more like a sack of fruit than a balloon of water. The green color of the Speedo blocked any outline of what was inside the balloon. What the heck is that?, she thought, utterly dumbfounded.

The black man saw her looking at him, or rather at his crotch.

“How do I look?”

“Um. . . uh. . .” She was speechless.

“How about this way,” he offered. The black man turned sideways, quickly but smoothly, the muscles rippling in his thick legs. She was not concentrating on his leg muscles. As the black man turned, the balloon pouch on the front of his green Speedo also turned to follow him, jiggling and bouncing obscenely. The pouch (is that his penis and testicles?, Jane thought), swung with the man’s hips, then past his hips, then gyrated back and forth, adjusting to his new position. On the wasteband of his green Speedos, she could see the “XXL” letters all blown up and stretched out.

“It, uh, the thing looks great.” She said. “Very, well, it’s very, it stands out.” That was all she could muster.

“Thanks,” the black man said. He turned back to face her.

Indeed, the green Speedo was stretched so much that its edges were no touching his skin. Between his skin and the green material, she could see dark flesh. Dark meaty flesh.

She was about to faint.

“Honey!” Tim’s voice called, as from the void.

She woke from her dream. The black man walked back into his stall, his bulbous green man pouch bouncing up and down with each step.

“Honey!” Time called from the right stall.

“Yes, Tim,” she regained her composure.

“Are you talking with someone?”

“Um, no honey.” She lied.

“Ok, well I think I have a problem.”

“What is it?”

“It doesn’t fit.” Tim’s voice was softer.

“I can’t hear you,” Jane said, “Why are you whispering?”

“It doesn’t fit!” He said.

“What?!”

“This Speedo is too big, can you get me the next size.” Tim pleaded.

“Um what size do you have?”

“Small.”

“Well let me see it.”

“Alright.” Tim came out in his red Speedos. They fit fine, on the bottom, around the waist, in the butt, except… well, right at his crouch there was excess material. It looked like a normal Speedo all the way around, except where his penis was supposed to be, where it looked like a loose bag.

“Hmmm. It looks all stretched out in the center area.” She said.

“I don’t think this is right.”

“I’ll look for a smaller size,” she said as she hurried out to the swim suit rack. Tim went back into his stall.

She looked and looked, but could find nothing. Wait! There was always the child or junior section. She hurried there, picked two other red Speedos out and headed back to the stalls.

“Did you find something?” Tim said to her, peering out of his stall, the door cracked open.

“Babe, Tim, there’s no smaller regular size. I think there’s only . . . well . . .”

“Go ahead honey.”

“There’s only the junior size. ‘Child 12 to 15′ . . . which I have here. And there’s ‘junior child’ and ‘toddler’.”

Tim looked down. He took the ‘Child 12 to 15′ from her without a word.

No sooner had Tim gone into the right stall, then did she see the black man exit the left stall. She looked away, up high to the ceiling, pretending to be interested in the heating and ventilation pipes extending up and down the brick walls. She could sense the black man was looking in the outside mirror to check the fit.

She stole a look. Blue Speedos. She stole another. Stretched. And another look. Stuffed, oversized. She tried to think of food. Large sausage with two apples stuffed in pot pie. That didn’t work! Finally, she relented and just looked, and looked, and looked.

Noticing that she was staring at his crotch, the black man smiled, and asked, “Is this better?”

The dark material hid all detail. Giving away only that something of enormous mass and volume was inside.

“No”, she tried to act non-challantly, “it looks ok. You’re ball-huggers, I mean, your suit looks ok. I’m not a fan of blue.”

“I’m undecided too.”

He shifted his legs just a bit, and she saw it, the outline of one large round orb in the blue material, pushing its way out, separating itself from the rest of the mass. The orb reached the lower left edge of the Speedo, and then emerged, slowly, like huge moon rising on the horizon. Jane’s eyes widened. Out of the black man’s Speedo plopped the largest fattest plumpest left testicle she had ever seen. It was the size and shape of a small mango, not perfectly round, but oblong. The black man seemed not to notice, even though he now had a mango-sized testicle hanging out of his swim trunks. Her jaw dropped.

“Um, sir. Mr. Black man, your . . .”

“Yes.” He turned his head toward her.

“Your tinkle is showing.”

“What?” He gave her a puzzled look.

“Your tinkle.” She motioned with her eyes down.

He shrugged, looking around. Tinkles, he thought, that what’s she called Tim’s small testicles. That’s probably why he doesn’t understand. She thought about other words.

“Your wing nut. Your jewel.”

“I’m sorry, I just don’t . . .”

She was getting frustrated.

“Your ball.” She said, almost commanding.

“Mam, I don’t understand you.”

“Sir, you have an enormous veiny black testicle hanging out of your ball-huggers! It’s not very modest!” She raised her voice with a hint of anger. Or maybe it was resentment. She had never seen a testicle that large, and felt she was somehow missing out.

“Oh!” The black man looked down, his face full of embarrassment.

Tim called out from the right stall, “Honey, what’s going on out there?”

“Nothing, honey.” She lied. “I’m just, uh, talking to the manager about the need for more . . .”

Just then, she saw the black man trying to stuff his left testicle back into his Speedos.

“. . . larger . . . bigger . . . the need for more stalls. Bigger, larger stalls.”

“Oh, Ok. I’ll be out in a second.” Tim called.

The black man finally pushed his left testicle into his Speedos, but just as he did, his right testicle plopped out of the right side of his Speedos. It was as large and gruesome looking as the other. He pushed his right testicle in. It stayed put for a moment. But just a second later, both testicles plopped out on either side.

“Gawd!” He said, frustrated.

She giggled. It was a bit comical.

He looked up at her. She smiled. He smiled. They couldn’t deny it was a bit funny for him to have both balls hanging out on either side of his Speedos.

“This is embarrassing,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s quite ok. I’ve never seen, such, well, large tinkles, I mean large balls on a man before.”

Silence.

“I better get in my stall.” He said.

“Yeah.” She said.

As he turned away, and went into the right stall, she couldn’t help watching as his meaty testicles clunked together like fuzzy car dice as he walked.

She felt faint. Then flush. She felt strange, happiness? Then anger. Then resentment. All these emotions going through her so fast. Why was she feeling this way?

Tim stepped out of the left stall, just then. He was trying to cover himself up with both his hands.

“Well, let’s see it.”

“What?”

“Look, I’m not waiting here all day. Let’s see what you look like.” She tapped her foot impatiently. Tim was surprised by her assertiveness.

He lifted his hands.

She looked down.

The suit was extremely tight. It was tight around the edges where the material dug into his skin. It was tight around his butt, so much so that it looked he had a French cut bikini bottom on. It was even tight between his butt cheeks, where it rode up giving him a wedgy. It seemed to be tight everywhere, except in the middle of his crotch. There, it was still loose, except for a small tent caused by his tiny mushroom weeny.

“How does this look?” He asked, with hope in his voice.

“Um . . . well, it’s . . . I guess we might want to save that for Europe.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s not your best . . . um angle . . . um it’s not the way it hangs, or . . .”

Just as Jane was stuttering through a lame excuse, the left stall clicked open. Her eyes widened, her mouth opened, she wanted to yell “stop!” as if there were about to be a collision of two worlds.

From the left stall came the black man, unclothed except for a tight white package-hugging thong Speedo. Unlike the other Speedos the black man had modeled, this white Speedo was semi-transparent and revealed the outline of his absurdly large cock and balls. The man’s penis was clearly visible, as it hugged the inside front of the white Speedos. His penis went down, down, down, to the bottom of the pouch, then turned upwards like a huge “J” with his massively outlined cockhead pointing toward his right. On either side of his curled penis were his two big black balls pressed against the sides of the Speedo. The whole package looked like a sack of fruit from some bizarre tropical island.

“Holy big floppy thingy sitting on tinkles!” Jane exclaimed. Tim eyes bulged out too at the enormous sex tools the black man had.

The black man turned toward them, his weighty Speedo sack bouncing around uncontrollably.

Jane’s head bounced up and down as she tried to watch the sack’s jerky movements. She felt dizzy, her heart sped up, and her eyes . . . her vision blurred . . . she fainted, and fell forward her hands stretched out in front trying to break her fall. By sheer chance, the index finger on her left hand extended just enough to catch the slight space between the black man’s skin and his white Speedos.

As she fell, her finger stretched the white Speedo material oh so slightly. But that was all it took, and the black man’s white Speedo snapped off, his cock unleased, shooting out and forward like fat black jack in the box. The fire-hose-like dong reached its nadir and then fell with a loud slap on the man’s thigh.

Jane’s right hand grabbed Tim’s arm. He was off balance and fell to the side and then backward, butt-first against the outside wall of the dressing stall. As his butt slid against the wall, the friction snapped his Speedos off, leaving Tim naked. Both Jane and Tim fell together. They reached out for something to break their fall, and grabbed a nearby heating pipe next to the brick wall. Their fall was broken, and they landed softly on the floor.

Both were stunned. Jane recovered her senses first.

“Gosh, this pipe is almost hot. Someone might burn themselves.” Jane said recovering. She looked up.

But they had not grabbed a heating pipe . . . they had grabbed onto the black man’s penis. All fourteen inches of it. Jane’s little white hand was close to the head, and her fingers reached a little over half way around the girth of the shaft. Tim’s hand was right above, and even though Tim was not a small man, his hand barely made it around the penis. Both Tim and Jane were hanging onto the black penis, using it to prop themselves up.

The whole scene was shocking. Here she was, fully clothed, with two naked men. Above her, a large muscular Negro with a massive hanging member, pulsing hot with blood. Next to her on the floor was her husband, naked like a little babe, with his hairless scrotum and mushroom penis for all to see.

Tim finally came around, regaining his senses.

“Wait a minute!” He said out loud, “Where are my shorts?”

Then he looked up, and noticed that he had the black man’s penis in his hand.

“Holy shit!” he exclaimed, jerking his hand away from the penis, and pushing it towards Jane.

The penis swung toward her like a large wrecking chain, knocking her back onto her butt. Her grip on the penis broke, and it snapped back and swung toward Tim even faster and harder, hitting him in the head, right above the eye. Tim dropped to the ground with a thud.

“Oh my god! Tim! Are you ok!” Jane screamed as she rushed to Tim’s side. He was out cold, and had big black eye and a bruised forehead. Jane couldn’t help but notice, though, that Tim’s little penis was rock hard, all three inches of it standing at attention proudly.

“Someone help!” Jane yelled, “A massive black penis knocked my husband out!” But no one responded. No one heard her cry.

The black man put his big hand on her shoulder, “Ma’am, I don’t think the staff is near the back of the store. They can’t hear you. Look, I’m a doctor, maybe I can help.”

She looked up at him, tears welling in her eyes, and nodded.

The black man knelt down next to her, next to her husband, and examined his black eye. She tried to look away, oh how she tried, but her eyes went back and she looked down below. She gasped at what she saw. The black man’s mango-testicles hung low, so low they were resting on the floor. His penis, fat thick and dark, hung down, and folded at the point where it touched the floor, so that more than half of his length was horizontally resting on the ground.

“It looks like he has a concussion, and a very big bruise.”

“Yes, it’s very big and large.” Jane said robotically, concentrating on the black man’s penis.

“There appears to be no skull fracture or serious injury.” He put his hand on her shoulder again. “Mam, I’m really sorry about this,” he said.

“oh . . . what . . . oh, it’s ok, but what should we do?” Jane said, sniffling.

“Let’s rest him with his head up. Try to get him to wake up. Um, but there’s no place . . .”

“What about the stall?” Jane offered.

“Good idea. Let’s move him.”

Still crouching, the black man moved around to the back of Tim. As he did so, the head of his penis dragged across the floor and over Tim’s body. Jane wanted to say something, but didn’t. Together, Jane and the black man dragged Tim into the right stall where Tim had changed. They propped Tim up on the bench and rested his head against the wall. The stall door clicked behind them.

All this time, Jane had her eyes on the black man’s cock and balls. But Jane was not the only one noticing something. After Jane and the black man propped Tim up, Jane was still bent over, attending to Tim. While bent over, her breasts pressed forward large and full in her top.

“Now what?” She stood up straight, and turned her body to the black man.

The black man looked away embarrassed. Jane noticed that his massive penis, previously flaccid and pointing to the ground, now was in half-turgid state. It was filling with blood at sight of Jane’s breasts. It was half-erect, buoyant, suspended in front of him, the hardness and weight of a family-sized kielbasa from a local supermarket.

“I’m sorry. You’re just very beautiful.” He said.

“That’s ok. Can I say something?”

“Sure.”

“I’ve never seen a thingy your size before.” Jane’s shyness was going away.

“I am larger than normal.”

“I’d say. How big does it get? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I’m not sure, I’ve never measured. But it sure makes it hard to walk.”

As they spoke, the man’s penis continued to enlarge, fattening up like baseball bat pointed directly at Jane’s face.

“Never measured? And you’re tinkles, I mean your large balls, how big do they get?”

“I think they’re always just big.”

He was fully hard now, his penis extending nearly a foot and a half. His penis was so large that it made the dressing stall looked very small and tight. She tried to step away, but her back hit the wall.

“Um, I don’t want to be . . .”

“Yes, what?”

She threw caution to the wind: “Mr. Negro, can I touch your testicles?”

“Sure,” he smiled.

She reached out and grabbed onto one of his mango-sized testicles.

“Mmmm. It’s warm. It feels nice.”

She couldn’t get her hand all the way around it.

“It’s large too. Not exactly round though,” she said in wonder, as if she had never seen a man naked before.

She felt the veins on the testicle pulsing with blood. There must be a lot of “special life juice” in these tinkles, she thought to herself.

“If you don’t mind.” She said. Without asking, she reached out to grab the black man’s other testicle. It was warm too. She had to get so close to the man that now his massive black hard penis was resting on her shoulder. She could smell it. She rolled around the two testicles and the man’s nut sack in her hands, playing with them.

Again, she was amazed. Her she was in a small stall, feeling a negro’s balls while her husband was conked out, naked next to her on a bench.

She let his big balls go. They dropped down, and bounced around against each other before settling back into their sack.

“Don’t your large testicles ever shrink up into your body?”

“No. Testicles, especially ones as large as mine, normally drop down out of the body in puberty. Why do you ask?”

“No reason. . . and they’re moving! Look at them. I’ve never seen that.” She gazed in awe as the black man’s huge balls turned and rolled in their sack, all by themselves.

“Yes, all testicles move. Mine are just larger so it’s easier to see. They are producing sperm.”

“Special life juice?”

“Sperm. I guess sperm does fertilize, so it might be thought of a life juice, I guess.”

“Can I see a little of yours?” Jane asked.

“That might take a bit. I’d have to reach orgasm.”

“My husband can do it in 5 or 10 seconds. It’s only a drop or two after all.”

“Well, with all due respect mam, he is not well . . .”

“I know, his penis and balls are smaller than yours, and so easier to stimulate, and the sperm doesn’t have to travel very far.”

“Exactly,” the black man said, “You learn very quickly.”

The black man’s cock was still rock hard. The head was taught, full. It looked almost angry, Jane thought. On the shaft, there was a large vein as thick as Tim’s penis.

“Mr. Negro?”

“You shouldn’t call me Mr. Negro.”

“Ok. Um, Mr. Black man, can I touch your penis? Maybe I can help you give me a drop or two of life juice, I mean sperm, to see? Do black men have sperm like white men?”

“So many questions. First things first, you can touch it.”

She reached out and grabbed the man’s penis. It was boiling hot to the touch, and felt as hard as steel. For a moment, she underestimated its power. Her grip was too loose, and the cock broke her grip and slipped out of her hand. It bounced around, slapping her on the side. She got a determined look on her face, and grabbed at it again, this time more fiercely. Once she got a hold of it, she held on tightly.

“You won’t get away this time.” She said to the penis.

“Keep control of it.”

“Gosh this is unreal,” she said, thinking aloud, “It’s like holding onto to a totem pole, or one of those poles they have in a fire house. I could almost slide down. You could play baseball with this thing, or even hockey.” She grabbed the penis at the end, on the end, and pretended like she was taking a swing.

“What happens if I push it down and let it go?”

“Try it.”

Jane pushed the Negro’s cock down, and let it go. It came swinging back up and then fell back down, bouncing and then eventually assuming its erect position, pointing straight at Jane’s face.

“Wow.”

“It has a mind of its own, and will punish you if you don’t make sure you have a handle on it. Why don’t you massage it a bit? You might be able to see some sperm.”

She nodded, and started to jack the black man off. Even with both hands on the penis, there was ample room on the shaft. She jacked her hands in opposite directions, first both hands going toward each other, then away. She jacked and she jacked that massive shaft. The black man started moaning. She continued to jack. Her hands were getting tired, but she was excited and was determined to make him finish. He moaned louder, his eyes started to go to the back of his head.

“Is it ok?” She asked, pumping his penis.

“I’m going to . . . I’m going to. . .” He stuttered.

“Let me get a handy-wipe to collect your drops of life juice.” She reached to her purse with one hand, while the other continued to pump.

“Handy wipe not big enough,” the black grunted. He reached and grabbed the nearest thing, which was Tim’s underwear on the bench.

“No! not that,” Jane tried to grab the underwear away from him with her free hand. But it was too late.

The first spurt of cum came out like water gushing out of a fire hydrant. The spurt missed Jane by a few inches, and splashed all over the wall and onto Tim. The black man put the underwear in front of his cockhead to catch the second spurt, which was just as massive as the first.

“Holy fire engine! Holy shower hose! Holy water pump!” Jane screamed, as spurt after spurt of cum shot forth from the black man’s penis. The cum didn’t dribble out like her husband’s, it gushed out like an open faucet. The black man’s face was contorted, and he grunted. Soon Tim’s underwear was overflowing with cum, which began dripping to the floor.

The black man finally stopped shaking. He breathed deeply.

“Oh god, that was great.” He said, handing Tim’s underwear to Jane. She took it from him reluctantly. It looked like a soiled and dirty diaper, and it was still dripping cum.

Tim was stirring a bit, almost talking in his sleep. “Big black . . .knock out. . . Jane . . . Hawaii. . .”

Jane turned toward Tim. “Honey it’s ok, I’m here,” she said, patting his chest. She turned back to the black man. He was out walking out the door to the stall, his large penis flopping to and fro, to and fro.

“Wait!” She called to the black man, “How will I find you? I mean, don’t you have to give your diagnosis to our doctor. Shouldn’t I get your card?”

He grabbed his clothes from the other stall. She saw him stuffing his sausage and balls into his pants. He pulled his wallet out, and took out a card from within. He handed it to her.

“Bye bye,” he said. She waived.

Then quietly she said to herself: “Goodbye Mr. Negro with the big fat dong.”

The black man turned and walked out of the store. She looked down at the card. It had his number and contact information, and . . . his name.

You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

Leave a Reply

Twitter Delicious Facebook Digg Stumbleupon Favorites More
Powered by WordPress | Designed by: MMORPG Games | Thanks to RPG Game Reviews, VPS Hosting and Video Hosting