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Sharing My Hotel Room with a Thug

He was a very good looking kid in a tough,
streetwise sort of a way.

Things had been pretty slow lately in the sex department. After a few
scary incidents with the gangsta boys, I'd been staying away from the
ghetto. I'd learned my lesson; propositioning thuggish, black straight
boys is dangerous. Several times I'd been ripped off. One time I was
set up in an apartment. I literally had to run to escape as that kid
pounded on the wall to summon his neighbors. I was done with black
ghetto dick. Or so I thought.

Earlier this week I was in Miami. I was not terribly impressed with
the hotel I was staying in. It was an unpretentious place designed
primarily for business travelers staying for extended periods of time.
The rate was reasonable, the was room clean, but there weren't many
amenities. This place was so cheaply run that even the office would
close from 10:00 PM to 8:00 AM. Little did I know that the office being
closed would lead to one of the hottest tricks in this gay man's life.

The last night of my trip I stayed out late. I had been driving around
city, hanging out at the beaches, and just enjoying the warm weather and
the beauty of the windy city. It was just after ten o'clock when I got
back to the hotel. I saw a young black kid trying to get in through the
front door. I immediately felt the urge for young black meat. Instead
of taking the backdoor entrance that was closer to my room, I approached
the front door just to see if I could proposition this kid. Hell, I was
horny and he was cute. It was worth a try.

I stopped and talked to the kid. He was bitching because he said he'd
ridden his bike to the other hotels and nobody had any vacancies; now
this one was closed. He told me that in the morning he was planning on
taking a bus to Rockford to see his girlfriend. I told him that the
office was closed and he cursed and said he didn't know where he was
going to sleep. I thought fast and, despite my better judgment, asked
him if he wanted to crash in my room. He agreed. Just to be safe, I went
back outside and locked my wallet, money, etc. in the vehicle.

When we got back into the room, the kid sat in a chair. As I took off my
shoes, I stared at him. He was a very good looking kid in a tough,
streetwise sort of a way. He looked very lean and I could see he was
quite young. The kid had a tattoo on his arm. I was impressed by how
muscular the kid was for as young as he appeared to be.

"So what's your name?" I asked him.

"Quentin." This kid was not one for conversation.

"I like that name," I said. "So how old are you?"

"I'm twenny," he replied in his ghetto dialect.

"So you said your girlfriend lives in Rockford."

"Yeah. I got three kids, too. But not all the same mom."

I thought to myself that this kid seemed pretty irresponsible. He sure
seemed to like to brag about his contempt for moral values. I sure like
that in a thug! I studied his thin face. I was also fascinated by the
orange tint on the ends of his black hair. There was something sinister
about his looks, but also something seductive about his brown eyes. That
familiar urge was tearing me apart.

I love to service young black men and I knew that
if given the opportunity he would enjoy using my mouth.

Quentin slumped back into the chair and closed his eyes. I stripped down
to my boxers and climbed in the bed.

"You know, you're welcome to sleep in the bed. I'm not going to molest
you or anything," I said.

"Okay." Again, this guy just didn't seem to like to talk. He climbed
into the bed fully dressed. That's strange, I thought to myself. I
tried to rest, but I just couldn't relax knowing that there was a
strange, quiet, very attractive young punk next to me. I had to try to
get some sex from him. I love to service young black men and I knew that
if given the opportunity he would enjoy using my mouth. I wrestled with
my thoughts for a few minutes before I knew I had to say something.

"Quentin?" I asked.


"I have to tell you something," I confessed. "It's only fair that I tell
you this. I have a thing for young African-American guys. If you're not
cool with that, I understand."

"Don't make no difference to me." He remained silent. My heart leapt.
I knew I had to try more.

"Can I move closer?" I asked.

"'Sup to you."

I slid over to Quentin's side of the bed. I rubbed my hand on his chest.
I could feel the six pack through his shirt. His abs were rock hard!
My hand reached his black pants and I could feel a pretty hefty bulge.
I rubbed it. Quentin didn't move.

"Can I do this?" I inquired.

"Do what?" he responded.

"I want to suck you off," I said.

"'Sup to you," he said.

I quickly undid his belt and unbuttoned his pants. As I slid them down,
I noticed he was wearing a pair of nylon basketball shorts. Underneath
those, Quentin was wearing a pair of boxer briefs. If I can remember
correctly, I believe they were black.

As I excitedly unwrapped Quentin's big package, I was stunned to see a
perfectly shaped, circumcised cock lying atop of two very large, hairy
balls. It was a beautiful sight! His cock was long and thick, already
partially erect. There was a neat circumcision scar. Above it the shaft
was a sort of pinkish color; below the scar it was a beautiful
grayish/black hue. The egg-shaped balls were large and bloated. No
doubt Quentin could produce a great deal of hot young cum with those

I opened my mouth and inhaled his thick cock. It tasted a little salty
and I could smell just a touch of sweat in his pubes. It was a young,
masculine scent. I deep throated his cock and started a slow up and down
motion. Young Quentin moaned and bucked his hips and I pleasured him.
For as quiet as he appeared to be during conversation, he made up for it
in the sack. I added my hand into the mix and continued sucking his cock
as I jacked it.

Each time he threatened to unleash a load of baby-making jizz into my mouth.

Quentin continued to moan and gasp as I teased the big cock over and over
again. By the time he was fully hard, I would say that he was pushing
eight inches with a medium thickness. His young organ was extremely hard
and I could sense its urgency to ejaculate its store of seed.

I teased his cock again and again. Each time he threatened to unleash a
load of baby-making jizz into my mouth. Finally, I speed up the motion
of my hand. I could feel his dick harden even more. As he approached
his orgasm I pulled off and he shot three very large squirts of white cum
into the air. I mopped the cum off of him with an old shirt. (Which to
this day still has not been washed!)

By this time, my own eight incher was throbbing. I pulled my boxers down
and jacked off as Quentin watched in interest. I shot hell of a big load
of chunky white cum.

Quentin fell asleep quickly after that. I didn't rest well that night
because I was still afraid that he might try to rob me or kill me. After
all, he was a pretty tough looking kid. I curled up next to him and
eventually dozed for a few minutes.

About 5:30 the next morning I woke up with a raging hard-on. I reached
over, felt up Quentin, and stared unzipping him. I went out to my truck
and got the camcorder. I asked Quentin if I could take some pictures of
his cock. He responded "Sup to you."

I set the camcorder on the table, aimed it toward the bed, and pressed
the "record" button. I kneeled beside the bed and started sucking him.
Eventually I realized that the camcorder wouldn't be seeing as much of
his dick as I would like. I stroked him for a while and then took his
hand and put it on his cock. I filmed him jacking off and even got the
cum shot.

Quentin fell asleep for another hour or so. I woke him up again and
started sucking him. The kid LOVED getting head. As he was getting
close, I stopped. I told him that for a long time I've wanted a black
man to have my ass and if he wanted it he could break me in. He declined
and said he "don't do dat shit." I told him I would rim him if he would
take a shower. Again, he declined.

I felt his chest up and noticed a strange scar. He mentioned he had
gotten shot when he was younger, but didn't elaborate. I asked him how
he got so buff and he said he worked out when he was locked up in the
county jail. So far, he'd been busted for drug possession and
trespassing. DAMN! (Again, that was a turn-on)

I started sucking him again and then I finished him off with my hand.
His third load was still comparable to size of my first load! This kid
seemed like he could jizz all day. I now regret that I didn't taste it,
but it wasn't really safe to.

As I checked out of the hotel, the clerk saw Quentin in the background
and gave me a quizzical look. I didn't say a word, but he had that all
knowing smirk that only a fellow fag would have. He knew damn well that
I was doing that black boy. I thought for a second that he looked a tad
bit envious.

Well, it was a great trip. I spent a fair amount of money on myself, but
the best souvenir I brought back is the videotape of my sucking Quentin's
hot young, black cock. I would travel more if I knew there would be
other opportunities to share my hotel room with a street thug like
Quentin. Maybe I'll even find one who I can get to take my ass cherry
one of these days.

Again, everything you've read here is true.