I go back to Mr. Smith's house of course!

The next day at school I was in a bit of a daze, which had become a habit if I really think about it. First, Mr. Smith had introduced me to Blacked.com and that was all I could think about. Then, Mr. Smith had introduced me to his big black cock and that became all I could think about. Now, he had fucked me with his big black cock and THAT was all I could think about.

I barely noticed when I was called to the guidance office during English class. I was told to take my things and go talk to my guidance counselor. Everyone in the class acted like I was in trouble, but I had no idea what it could be about.

My guidance counselor happened to be Mr. Washington, a rather thin and nerdy looking black man. I had never needed to talk to my guidance counselor before, so this was the first time I was meeting him.

He had round glasses and sharp features. His skin was a light brown, much lighter than Mr. Smith’s deep black skin. Mr. Washington was also less muscular than Mr. Smith.

“Nice to meet you Adam,” he said in a friendly voice. He extended a hand, and I shook it. This sent a tingle up my spine. He was a black man after all. I glanced down at his cock, checking to see how big it was. “Sit down, please.” He gestured for me to sit in one of the two chairs in front of his desk.

Of course, my guidance counselor is a black man, I sighed in my head. I began to picture his naked black body and long hard cock. I thought about sucking him off just like I had for Mr. Smith and Mr. Johnson. I could feel my cheeks getting flushed, and my penis began to harden. Stop! Stop! Stop! I shouted in my head.

“So, what’s going on Adam?” I heard him ask me.

“What do you mean Mr. Washington?” I had really been listening.

“Your grades Adam. What’s going on with your grades? Weren’t you listening? Your teachers have told me how you’ve been distant lately. Is something going on at home?”

“No Mr. Washington. Everything is fine. I’m getting tutoring in fact.” I don’t know why I brought that up.

“Oh, really? Tutoring for what?” Mr. Washington pressed.

“Math. My neighbor Mr. Smith is helping me.”

Mr. Smith’s magnificent black cock flashed in my mind when I said his name and I licked my lips involuntarily.

Mr. Washington gave me a strange look. “Uhhh, ok. Well, this is serious Adam. Are you sure this Mr. Smith can help you?”

“Yeah. He’s a professor.”

“Wait,” Mr. Washington’s face scrunched up into a puzzled look. “Do you mean Jamal Smith?”

“Yeah, I guess. Do you know him?”

“Adam, I am familiar with some of his research. I don’t think you should be spending time with him.”

“But he’s been helping me Mr. Washington.”

I didn’t really want to continue the conversation after that, and thankfully the bell rang for the start of the next period. “I need to go,” I announced, getting up and hurrying out of Mr. Washington’s office.

…

Later, I went home after school to clean my boy pussy before going over to Mr. Smith’s house. Unfortunately, today my mom happened to be home. I saw her car when I walked up the driveway, so I wasn’t surprised when I heard her voice as soon as I walked in. “Oh Adam! Shouldn’t you be at Mr. Smith’s house practicing your swimming?”

“Yes mom! I’m just grabbing my speedo. I forgot it this morning,” I answered gong upstairs to clean my boy pussy.

Boy pussy? I thought. Booooy pussssssy. I played with the words in my mind. Mr. Smith had said it yesterday, but this was the first time I thought about. I guess I have a boy pussy, I continued thinking as I went into the bathroom. Gotta keep my boy pussy clean for Mr. Smith.

A thought of Mr. Smith fucking me flashed in my mind and my boy pussy pulsed with pleasure. I got a few more pulses of pleasure as I cleaned my boy pussy before heading over to Mr. Smith’s house.

My mom stopped me on the way out the door to ask, “do you have everything honey? Towel? Sunscreen? Goggles?”

I don’t really need any of that, I scoffed in my head before saying, “yes mom!” And I rushed out the door to Mr. Smith’s house.

…

I paused, looking intently at the sliding glass door that led into Mr. Smith’s house, into his living room. I had just been invited inside his house yesterday, crossing the threshold into his private space. We had always done things outside before yesterday, in his back yard. Now, I needed to make a choice. Did I want to cross the threshold voluntarily? Enter Mr. Smith’s world?