... and we fuck

He came over and grabbed my chin. He pulled my face so I was looking into his phone camera. Tears still ran down my cheeks, but not as many as before. I heard his iPhone make a sound, then he turned it so I could see the screen.

“Perfect,” he said in a deep voice. In the picture my face was framed by his huge black hand. My big blue eyes were watery and appeared even bigger because of the camera angle.

Mr. Johnson looked at his phone and flopped down on the couch. “Suck my dick,” he ordered, not even bothering to look at me.

I climbed down on the floor and positioned myself between his legs. I leaned in to start sucking, but he told me to stop. “First, just kiss it.”

I followed his orders and pursed my pink lips. “Slowly!” he urged. I closed my eyes and planted a soft kiss directly on his mushroom shaped cock head. His phone clicked more, and he encouraged me to keep going.

“Now lick it. Then you can start sucking.”

I stuck out my tongue and gently lapped up a bit of precum. The taste was familiar. A warm sensation rose up through my body. Any pain I felt from the spanking I received earlier was gone. All I needed was Mr. Johnson’s big black cock in my mouth.

I opened my mouth wide and began taking him inside me. “Look at me,” I heard him say. I was about a third of the way down his shaft, so looking up was a bit uncomfortable. I tried anyway and made eye contact with his phone. There were more clicking sounds.

Satisfied with the quality of his photos, Mr. Johnson put his phone aside. His whole body visibly relaxed and he reclined deeper into the sofa. His legs spread wider, slumping to the sides. He extended his arms out along the back of the sofa and tilted his head back to look at the ceiling. The position reminded me of someone laying out on the beach.

“Try and get me extra wet this time,” he said lazily.

For my part, I got to work. I was on my own now. It looked like he wasn’t going to help me cram his whole cock down my throat. I slowly choked down inch after inch of black meat. Every move down his shaft made me gag, but I pressed on. I focused on suppressing the muscles in my throat, but small spasms still struck now and then. My penis reacted with joy as I gobbled down Mr. Johnson’s erection. Every time I gagged my penis twitched. It told me to take more, to go deeper.

Following Mr. Johnson’s orders, I tried to work up more spit in my mouth as I bobbed up and down on his black cock. I got down as close to his pubes as I could, then glided back up to give the head of dick a light suck before going back down. Each time I came up I tried to deposit more and more of my saliva. If he wanted "wet", I was going to give him wet.

Just when I thought I was getting into a good rhythm, Mr. Johnson looked up from his reclined position and told me to “stand up” and “turn around.”

I did, and he placed one hand on my hip, guiding my down and back. His other hand wrapped around the base of his cock and guided it up and forwards.

“Put your hands on my knees,” he said. I felt a pressure on the opening to my ass. Mr. Johnson was searching for my boy pussy. He felt slick and wet from my spit. Moving around a bit and applying pressure, he eventually found my hole and **** it open.

I took a sharp breath in as he **** his cock head inside my hole with one swift thrust. I steadied myself as he instructed me, “now take it all faggot. Sit on my big black cock.”

I could feel his body lean back on the couch. He clearly expected me to do all the work. I paused to let my ass relax around his cock head. Eventually I felt confident enough to start sitting back.

My spit was surprisingly slick, and my relaxed boy pussy flowed down his shaft. It wasn’t completely painless, but the pleasure I felt totally eclipsed any discomfort. I moaned, “oooooh,” and heard Mr. Johnson’s phone taking more pictures.

I crammed more and more of him inside. The feeling of fullness was electric. His power was filling me up and making me strong. I was better with him inside me.

My ass cheeks made contact with his scratchy pubes, and I knew I’d taken all of him. I felt his hands on my shoulders. He pulled me back to lean against his chest. We just paused in that position, Mr. Johnson reclining on the sofa, and me reclaiming on Mr. Johnson. His beer belly was soft and warm, the feeling complimenting his lightly twitching erection.

We stayed like that for what felt like forever. Mr. Johnson just resting with dick inside me. Eventually an itching sensation began to build in my boy pussy. I needed to move. I needed friction. I needed to be fucked. So I moved, slowly sitting up and pulling away. I then sat back down.

I had’t moved that much, but it still felt amazing. Mr. Johnson mumbled, “that’s right faggot. Fuck yourself.” I didn’t think it was an order, but I still took it as one. I continued bouncing up and down on his cock. Each time I’d pull away a little bit more and sit back with a little more ****.

The room and Mr. Johnson melted away, and I got lightheaded. There was a heat rising inside me as I bounced on his cock. I didn’t realize it, but I was basically slamming my boy pussy back into Mr. Johnson lap. The sounds of flesh hitting flesh echoed around the room, and I made no effort to control my moaning and groaning.

The black cock inside me kept rubbing up against and hitting a special spot. Each time I threw myself down against Mr. Johnson a rainbow of feeling washed over me. I wanted more. I needed to hit that spot deep in my body, and only Mr. Johnson could help me. I was so lost in the moment I almost didn’t notice Mr. Johnson cumming.

He grabbed my hips like a vice and **** himself deep inside me. 110% of his dick thrust into my body. I contorted as muscles from my head to toes spasmed with joy.

“Oh fuck,” Mr. Johnson grunted. I knew what was happening and reached for my small erection only to be stopped. Mr. Johnson held onto my arms as he emptied a load of sperm into my belly. Only when he began to get soften did he release my arms and allow me to masturbate.

I furiously pumped my penis, **** to cum. Mr. Johnson pushed me hard, and I fell on the floor. His soft dick flopped out with wet slopping noise. I began to cum all over Mr. Smith’s carpet and my body spasmed again.

We both took a moment to recover before Mr. Johnson dryly said, “clean up your mess bitch.” He was referring to my cum on the floor.