He pulled her head down to his lap, while she made pitiful noises, his alarmingly ugly penis met her lips. She tried to recoil. There was no way she ...anted that thing in her mouth. Uunnggh. No! I won't. Stop it” Please no!“Mmmmnnnnffffff!” She continue to protest as he entered her mouth. He pushed his huge cock deep into her throat. Choking, she struggled to breath around it. Not giving her a chance to fight or refuse, he strokes himself slowly into her throat. Tears stream down her face.. What’s a brother to do? As a Black man, I think of the Black woman as my mate, my lover, my helper and my partner. I don’t want any other women. Even when I lived in the Great White North, where there were absolutely no Black people, I longed for Black women. I thought about Black women with thick bodies, pretty faces and big booties when I masturbated. I didn’t think of white women. Now, as a young Black man living in a milieu where the population was close to one hundred percent white, I did. The boys were working pretty steady, but still had plenty of time to take care of me. After awhile they took a job up on Stevens Pass, and they were gone for quite awhile each day, as it was about a two and a half hour drive each way, so they weren't able to take care of my sexual needs like they had been doing, so I was pretty horny most of the time. That's when I noticed the neigbor guy, who was Ken's friend. He used to come over to drink beer, and sit around our bonfires with his girlfriend.. We would typically meet once a month depending on availability in his flat in SW London mainly on a Sunday morning to maintain discretion. My buddy was in his early 50's and at the time I was in my mid 20's. I felt from my end from the off this would be a good fit as someone older is typically more reliable. He was white British and I am British Indian background, this wasn't an issue and actually it was a turn on for both of us from an interracial and age aspect.After replying to his ad.