My Revelation

Steph had shifted to accommodate the new arrangement. Words were spoken., She shifted on her back so that her head dangled over the foot of the bed. Her face now provided a resting place for James's scrotum. I could see her moving her face about in this space between his legs. Kissing? Sucking? All of the above, no doubt. I saw kisses placed on the smooth inner surface of his thighs. James's cock was at a permanent 45% angle of attention. And who could blame him, with a pretty blonde like Steph nibbling at his balls. For my part, I couldn't take my eyes off of his member. He was fully erect, for sure. The helmet was swelled so that the flesh there shone tautly. It bobbed like a ripe plum. In the overhead light I saw a glimmer of moisture at the tip. Was He pre-cumming? I licked my lips when I comprehended what I saw. And then I wondered... Well, why was I so interested in that?

My ego took the express elevator to the basement as a feeling of inadequacy swept over me and I realized my deep longing for the kind of manhood I saw before me. Not to be it or embody it. That wasn't going to happen. But looking at Steph with her face busy in the shadow of James's groin, smelling him, tasting him. And James, displaying the engorged totem of his virility with such easy confidence, I saw that not only was I mesmerized by the beauty of all this, but that I wanted to be there in the room. Not as a stud like James. Really, what a laugh! No, just to be there as, I don't know... their attendant? Yes. To do their bidding, even if it was to bring them refreshments when they rested. Or to praise their efforts; to marvel aloud at their fevered athleticism. To bear witness to the glories of a sexual union that I could experience only from the sidelines. If I could have that, then to hell with my pride.

Sure, I had been Stephanie's boyfriend once, but never like this. Not even close. I think she stayed with me as long as she did because I pampered her so. And because I gave such attention to pleasing her with my tongue and my lips. I was mediocre, at best, in the sack, often cumming prematurely or doubting myself and losing my erection. But I made a point of excelling orally. I would spend an hour or more making love to Steph's pussy while she lay back, comfortably propped up on a bank of pillows. At first, she had given strict directions, telling me just how to service her. If I messed up she would crack me on the head and call me "dumbass", or some equivalent. But I was happy to be trained, and quickly improved.

I loved pleasing her in this way. Here I had finesse. She would cum repeatedly, and I would feel as though I were good for something. After pleasing her in this way, I would gently suggest that she roll onto her stomach so that I could complete my ministrations. Steph liked to call this a "trip around the world". She would still be quivering from her last orgasm as I rained kisses on her gorgeous ass. Soon, I would be deep between her cheeks, lost in the earthy must of her anus. My reward was her cries of pleasure as I reached as far into her as I could.

They now arranged themselves so that Steph was facing the headboard on all fours. James knelt behind. Strands of damp hair clung to the side of Steph's face. Her lips were parted and her eyes closed. With each thrust, James withdrew nearly all of his penis, so that I could see the glistening head snugly caressed by the tender inner lips. His movement was slow and deliberate. His hands were stroking and kneading Steph's ass cheeks, and he alternately trailed his fingertips along the small of her back. Throughout, Steph brought up low animal groans from deep within. The rythm of their bodies entranced me. In unison with the happy couple, I stroked myself through my pants. I was hard as a piece of marble, and worried that I might orgasm. It would be difficult to be quiet about that!

James's hand came up, and then down with a loud crack onto Steph's buttock. Steph laughed gutturally and turned her head to look up at James. Through the ecstatic expression of her face she managed a faux look of reprimand.

"Bad boy!" Steph said, breathing deeply.

"Yeah. You like 'em bad. Isn't that right?" James countered, and with that he plunged into her to his limit.

Steph's head fell down between her shoulders, then whipped up so that her neck was fully arched. I cannot describe the sounds that came from her. For his part, James began to thrust in ernest ,and brought his hand down hard again. The flesh there moved in rippled waves, and the imprints of his hand began to blossom. Steph lowered herself onto her forearms, perhaps the better to absorb the force of James's quickened moves. He, for his part, reached forward and took strands of Steph's disarrayed hair in each hand, grasping it as though reining in a recalcitrant bronc. But there was no taming to be done here. And none intended. Soon, I saw that the sky was lightening. I slipped slowly to the ground and crept into the shadows.

My Revelation

Chapter 2

The months passed, and a new status quo settled in. Now, at work, I was treated cordially by Steph. I took this to simply be a mask concealing the pity she now felt for an obvious loser. This was harder to swallow than the contempt she had been dishing up in the wake of our breakup.

But, yeah, I got it. She was so sexually fulfilled now, so goddamned confirmed as a woman (one who could keep a horny rake like James in her bed and her's alone), that the disdain which had been the last authentic feeling she had for me - it no longer registered. I felt like a walking zero.

James and she were now a serious couple, and I'd heard through the grapevine that they planned to live together. For myself, I tried dating. I found this a bit nerve-wracking since nearly all relationships I'd been in had begun almost by accident, or by the woman taking the initiative. The dating hadn't gone so well. I tended to drink too much and would wind up getting either stupidly overconfident and chatty, or morose and brooding. Once, I woke up to find myself sleeping on the living room floor of a date's apartment. She was nowhere around and there was a note pinned to my shirt saying that I should leave at once. After time, I just kept to myself. I still had a libido, though, and I kept it appeased through porn. Many nights I would find myself with my pants around my ankles and the glow of the monitor washing over my half-lidded eyes. I'd get things done, clean up, and fall into bed.

Sometimes I would be led to sites featuring black and white couples. I started looking for specific picture and videos: ones with white girls sucking on black dick. I kind of became fixated on this theme, and there was plenty of it on the web. I particularly favored shots of the barely-legal with their lips stretched enticingly around a thick shaft. It looked so sexy to me. And there would be the black dude looking down on his very own white whore. I could see it. I mean white girls getting fascinated with a thick, black, hanging johnson. Looking at this stuff turned me on big-time. Once when I was pretty looped on bourbon and some fine morrocan hashish, I watched a video of a pale little woman with a pageboy haircut letting a slick black dickhead slip in and out of her mouth. I imagined that the woman was Steph and the dude was James. As I started to cum, I addressed the couple on the screen:

"Is it tasty, honey? ...Steph? ...Tell me what he tastes like. Please. God! it looks so good! Work it, Steph! Oh, you lucky bitch! Eat all his semen, baby. Clean out his sweet little pee hole. Make him feel like the man he is! You cocksucking whore! You look so beautiful with that black meat in your mouth." I felt practically deranged as I lusted and ranted over this fantasy I'd concocted. Or, rather, it was more as though it had emerged of its own from some battened- down, lonesome chamber in my psyche. It came right up through the floorboards, spewing dust and rusted nails. And it came with an unambiguous message:

"YOU, little jackie. It's you who wants to be on your knees helping a hefty, black dick to feel its very best. It's you. Not Steph. Not the waifish , pale girl in the video. And more to the point, you want, above all else, to be in James's bedroom at his beck and call. To be his human cumbucket. His slave."

My orgasm was a testament to the sheer ardor of my mind and body in that moment. An end-over-end wad of cum flew three feet into the air and landed on my spasming thigh. If there were a cumshot olympics, I'd be bending over to have the gold put around my neck. I slid off the chair onto the floor, continuing to ooze smaller quantities onto the carpet. I lay there utterly depleted. "James". I whispered. I pulled my knees into a fetal curl and fell into a deep untroubled sleep.