Second Time: Bisexual Interracial Seduction (mm) 2nd time, in a series about my first sexual encounters with other men by caelin, January 2007 NOTE: Reposted. Original title - "First Time: Bisexual Interracial Seduction. I realized after posting that the title was misleading: I'm bi, but the story is about my second time with another man. No bi sex. I am reposting so it isn't misleading. Sorry for the error. Another true story. As related in my first ASSTR post (College Seduction - mm), when I was 21, and a senior in college, my freshman roommate seduced me. After that, I sort of knew I had submissive bisexual tendencies, but repressed that knowledge and still considered myself mostly “straight.” I was short on credits and couldn’t graduate after my senior year; I’d need one more quarter. So I took an out-of-state summer job that required me to live on-site, in trailers with several dozen other guys. Most of these guys were older, following temp or seasonal work as it became available. It was here that I met Kotter. Kotter was a heavyset black guy, in his 40s. He said he was a teacher at a school in Pennsylvania, most of the year, but did this kind of temp work in the summers. I didn’t know anyone there, so when Kotter befriended me, I was flattered that an older authority figure such as he would view me, a punk college kid, as a friend. We all worked 12-hour shifts, but Kotter and I started palling around after work. On one such late-June day, we found ourselves sitting on folding chairs, under a large canopy near our trailer, enjoying the shade. The conversation turned to sex. “You a virgin?” Kotter teased me. “No way!” I replied, mildly indignant. “I’ve had sex!” Kotter didn’t look convinced. “Uh huh,” he said, “how much experience have you *really* had?” I looked at him uncomprehendingly. “Have you actually been with a woman?” he asked. I asserted that I had. “You’ve actually had intercourse?” he probed. I nodded, smiling. “Two women!” I said, smugly. “Although, not at the same time.” “Have you ever had oral sex?” he asked. I said I had and he pressed whether I had been the receiver or the giver. I indicated “both.” This grilling went on for several minutes, and I found myself wanting to impress him with my worldliness. “Have you ever been … kinky?” he asked, his voice growing a bit husky. I assured him I had. “Have you ever done bondage?” he asked. I admitted I hadn’t, but asserted it was an idea I found exciting. “S&M?” he asked. Reluctantly, I admitted I hadn’t experienced this, but found the idea of being sexually dominated exciting. “Watersports?” he asked. I nodded, although now I was lying … I’d never tried this, but often fantasized about it. “Scat?” he asked. I admitted I didn’t know what that was. “Feces,” he explained. “Excrement. Shit.” I shuddered and said “No,” that I had no experience or interest in that one. “Ever been with a man?” he asked. I hesitated, unsure of his reaction if I confessed my sole homosexual affair. Sensing my anxiety, he confessed “I have. I’m bisexual.” Relieved, I admitted that I had, too. “Once,” I whispered. “Last year … my roommate ... seduced me.” Kotter leaned forward in his chair, obviously interested. “Did you have oral sex with him?” he asked, throatily. I nodded, my own throat suddenly dry as my secrets were exposed. “Who blew who?” he asked. “Did he blow you? Did you blow him?” “We … we did each other,” I murmured. “69.” Kotter removed his glasses to wipe the sweat from his dark face. “Did you swallow?” he pressed. I nodded. Kotter laughed and leaned back in his chair, replacing his glasses. “Why, you little *faggot*!” he chortled, a broad smile creasing his dark face. I was momentarily offended, but he didn’t seem to have meant it maliciously, so I let it go. “Did you do ‘anal?’” he asked. I nodded. “Who fucked who?” he wanted to know. “Did you both do each other?” “N-no,” I admitted, blushing. “He … he fucked me. But … but only for a short time … it hurt too much to continue.” Kotter was smiling broadly and I wondered why he was enjoying my discomfort. He insisted I go over every detail of the seduction, and I did, leaving nothing out. I was very embarrassed. Finally, glancing at my watch, I noted the time. “Dinner time!” I announced, getting up. In reality, I just wanted to escape teh embararsing interrogatio. Kotter rose to join me. “You know,” he said, as we walked to the mess hall, “when I said I was bisexual, back there … I lied.” I looked at him, surprised. “I’m actually gay,” he confided. “And I want you to know: If you ever want a blow job … or 43 … I’d be happy to do that for you.” I felt my face blush deeply. Here was a good-looking black guy, about twice my age, offering to suck me off! With no expectation of reciprocation! With no women at all at the work site, I was not really surprised to feel myself stiffening at the thought. Kotter had a very thick body, perhaps verging on being fat. I happen to have a thing for thick-bodied lovers. And his skin was exotically dark, a deep ebony brown. The sheer kinkiness of thinking of this chunky older black man sucking my dick had me tingling. I also suddenly realized that our chat about sex hadn’t been idle conversation, after all. He had been sizing me up as a seduction candidate! And he had played me like a fiddle. He knew I’d had sex with men and that I was submissive. Suddenly, I realized that we both now knew that, before the summer was over, I’d be taking his dick inside me. “I-I’d like that,” I told him, in a choked whisper. “Meet me by the tool shed, tonight,” he murmured. “After 11.” Then he walked away to his assigned table and I went to mine. The hours passed slowly but 11 p.m. finally came. The tool shed was empty of people and very dark. There was a some light shining in, from the floodlight over at the trailer door, but that was about it. I saw his silhouette about the same time I heard the soft shuffle of his footsteps on the concrete floor. There was just enough light that I could see his dark features, but mostly just his eyes and teeth, when he smiled. And he was grinning broadly! I felt the soft press of full, thick lips against mine and gave myself to his kiss. This was the second time I had been kissed by a man and I had to admit, I found it strangely exciting. I still preferred a woman’s kiss, but … when I kissed a woman, *I* usually kissed the woman. I was usually the initiator and was “in control” of the kiss (but not always – and I loved when a woman initiated/took-control!). But this time, as it had been with my roommate, there was never an opportunity for me to even consider being in control. This time, like the last, *I* was the one being kissed. I felt his fingers fumble at my belt and I let him unbuckle me and unbutton my jeans. He slowly dropped to his knees as he simultaneously slid my pants down around my ankles. I could see my own pale body, almost gleaming in the diffuse light, a definite contrast to his dark, nearly invisible dark body. I heard his sharp intake of breath as he slid my tighty-whities down and freed my straining cock. “Nice,” he whispered, grasping it by its base and sending a shiver of pleasure through me. He then swallowed my cock. I mean he swallowed the whole damned thing! In one fluid, experienced motion, he had my entire 6 inches down his throat and his thick, warm lips were wrapped around the base of my shaft as he nuzzled my pubic hair with his nose. I had no idea how he could possibly do that, without gagging. He began to work the length of my shaft, moving his head so that my rigid white cock slid in and out of his throat. I had to admit, he had incredible technique and obviously knew what he was doing. I was enjoying it immensely, but wishing there was a place I could lie down – you see, I have difficult cumming when I am vertical. Lie me horizontal, and I’ll cum like a fireplug! But standing up … He paused, as if sensing my difficulty. “You’re not going to cum, are you,” he asked. Sighing regretfully, I admitted that I had trouble in this position. A noise from outside startled me. “I think someone may be coming!” I warned, fumbling to pull my pants back up. With obvious reluctance, Kotter let me get myself presentable. “Did you enjoy that, Caelin?” he whispered, pulling me into another embrace. His breath was hot and rapid, on my face. “Did you enjoy being seduced?” I admitted that I had. “Maybe you can return the favor sometime,” he hinted. I felt my cock strain in my jeans, at the thought. “I don’t think you’ll have to wait long,” I whispered. As it turned out, he didn’t have to wait long, at all. The next evening found us both back at the tool shed. I let him kiss me, closing my eyes as I succumbed to his advances, again. My cock strained at the thought of his talented mouth working it over again. Maybe this time I could suggest we find a place I could lay down … Without warning, I felt his large hands gently press down on my shoulders. Uncertain as to what he wanted, I finally let him gently push me to my knees. His large, dark hands fumbled with his belt and he soon opened his slacks and dropped them around his ankles. He was wearing no underwear. With a start, I realized he wanted me to blow him. In the dim, diffuse light, his cock looked pitch black – even darker than the rest of his body. “A black man’s cock is always darker than the rest of him,” he whispered as if reading my mind, stroking the dark monster with one hand as he gently laid his other hand on my head. Looking back, I realize his penis must have been around 7 or 8 inches, but in the warm night air of that tool shed, it looked like a huge, dark python – way larger than mine! He brushed his mammoth, dark cockhead gently across my slightly parted lips. “Blow me, Caelin,” he urged. “Show me how you pleasure another man.” I have to admit, I was frozen, caught between the anxiety of being caught, the mental impact of what was happening, and an almost overwhelming sense of lust. Kotter took the decision from me, gently but firmly pulling my face into his musky, hairy crotch. The plum-sized head of his thick, dark cock slid into my mouth and I reflexively began sucking. I tried to take him in deeper, but gagged when his cock hit the back of my throat. How had he *done* that, earlier?!? I resigned myself to avidly sucking the ˝ to 1/3 of his cock that I could get into my mouth. He steadied the remaining length of his shaft with one hand while applying gentle leverage on the back of my head, with the other. Unlike me, Kotter had no problem cumming while he was standing up. Evidently, getting sucked off by a white boy half his age was something that appealed to him, because he proceeded to shoot an incredible load of hot, salty jizz into me. Before I could react, my mouth was filled and cum was spurting from around my lips, breaking my suction seal. I think I may have had it coming out my nose. Caught in the throes of his climax, he pulled my head sharply forward, cramming his thick meat deeper into my mouth and into my throat. I tried to swallow, but was choking, due to how far his cock was thrusting. He kept cumming and cumming … I swear the guy must have been celibate for *months* before, to unload that volume of jizz! I definitely had cum dribbling from both nostrils, now, and as he slowly relaxed his hold, I pulled back enough to start swallowing his massive, creamy load. It took several gulps. He groaned in satisfaction, resting both hands on my head as I sucked his thick cock clean and licked the spattered overflow of jism from his big, hairy ball sac. When I finally finished, I started to stand, but he held me down. I looked up at him, to see him gazing down at me with a strange look on his face. I realized how I must look: A young white man, on his knees, cum all over his face and running out his nose. He appeared to be really enjoying the sight, however. I gave his softening python one last, long lick from base to tip before he relaxed his hold and I regained my feet. I started to wipe my face with my shirt, but he stopped me. “No, Caelin,” he whispered. “Leave it. That’s my mark of ownership. You’re my bitch, now, white boy. From now on, your job is to service me.” I averted my eyes, almost whimpering with arousal. “You like that, don’t you, Caelin,” he whispered in my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “You like the idea of being my bitch, don’t you!” “Yes,” I gasped, feeling his hot breath in my ear. “Yes, Kotter! Make me your bitch!” He left and I laid down and jacked off, furiously stroking my straining cock as I deeply inhaled the scent on my thoroughly jizzed face. When I came, it was like a firehose, splattering the far wall of the small shed. I went to the public washrooms and washed myself off, before dragging myself back to bed. As it turned out, Kotter was right: I did become his bitch. For the rest of the summer, we met every night in the tool shed and I sucked him off. He never did blow me again, nor did he ever even offer to help me get off. It was all about him, now. I ended up “taking care of myself,” after he left. Most of the times, I did him on my knees – he seemed to really like having a white boy subserviently kneeling before him, sucking black cock. Sometimes, I’d do him as he sat or laid down. Twice, he straddled my face as I laid on my back, pinning my arms with his thick legs, which prevented me from furiously jerking off, as I’d have preferred. Each night ended with me swallowing a load of his thick, hot cum. It was a long summer and I swallowed a lot of cum. But before I knew it, it was late August and the job was finished. We all parted without saying goodbye and we never exchanged contact information. What I didn’t realize until much later was that Kotter had now imprinted on me a strong, new fetish: A weakness for dominant, thick-bodied black lovers (of either sex). This would have a strong hold on me, in the years to follow.