Hunted Pt. 02

You might appreciate reading my series, "Plowed," before reading this, though it's not necessary. Disclaimer: The story depicts scenes of reluctance and at times non-consensual sexual contact. All characters and places in this story are fictional. Any similarity herein to real persons or places is entirely coincidental. All characters are 18 or older.

Myles leaned against the thick timber of a light pole and watched all the hot, white pussy walk past him. Gym-fit dads, MILFS, cheerleaders with bouncy tit and spankable ass, and even a few hot jocks who weren't football dudes but who had come to watch their buddies on the gridiron--yeah, Myles remembered this scene from his own football days.

They were short-lived but sweet, about three years ago.

The rotten system had assigned him to a foster family in Oconomowoc, a rich one. They sent him to a tight-assed Catholic school where he was one of the few black kids, and the only brother with any serious mojo. But fuck, if he didn't have fun! No week passed without him spreading cream.

The principal, the coach, and all those smiling teachers almost hurt themselves telling the students to welcome the poor black kid from the hood. Like roosters giving up the hen house! He could still see the star senior quarterback that first day, so fucking naïve, grinning at him through his freckled face, Mr. Nice Guy, best in class, slapping his shoulder and calling him "bro." That sweet piece of ass had his whole future ahead of him until Myles got behind him.

"Mmm. Fuck, yeah." Myles dragged on his vape and relished the memory.

He'd fucked the quarterback's girlfriend first, filling her with dick so sweet, slow, and polite she fell in love with him, her and a few of her friends, too. Damn, but them white titties could bounce! Almost as good as their boyfriends' ass cheeks! Myles chuckled to himself, remembering all that skin. He'd made it so all the girls in that school wanted his big, black dick, and it left those poor, pretty-faced jock boys just a-groaning and a-moaning for their aching, breaking blue balls.

Getting them into a circle jerk was easy--white boys love a good circle jerk--and once they saw his black dick, and felt all those hot pinpricks as they gazed at it, and he talked a little bullshit about "bro-jobs are the same as no-jobs," the rest was in the bag. Simple recipe: build trust, show dick, make it no-homo, and BANG!

He fucked the quarterback first, doggy-style, right in front of his buddies.

He hadn't expected that pretty, freckled fucker to cum so fast, no hands, moaning like the little bitch he'd just become. It was like a damn advertisement, a touch of good luck Myles could have never planned. He still remembered the thrill of giving that sweet, pale ass a good spank afterwards, coaxing a giggle out of Quarterback Boy, and then looking at all other naked jock boys staring at him with shocked eyes and saying, "No homo, homeboys!"

Pure fucking poetry.

"You can't let him be the only one brave enough to take this monster," he'd said.

Calling him brave, see--that's like forgiveness for a white boy, makes it okay, and helps make sure he'll do it again.

Plus, it guilted his buddies a little. A big black cock, a leader to take it, a little guilt, and the white-boy desire to be team players--works like a charm!

So next up came the tight end (of course), who kept saying Myles was too big until his buddies teased him for being "a wuss," and then the star kicker whose legs looked as good in the air as on the field, and then that meaty linebacker--aw, DAMN!

Myles took another drag. Tight, virgin, white-boy ass! Fucking addictive!

Almost as addictive to him as his cock was to them! He turned it into a game--"How many times can this monster dick spew?"--and they laughed and dared themselves into "no homo" madness.

It lasted three glorious weeks.

He hadn't intended on any of those boys' daddies finding out what pussies they'd raised, but that fucking coach just had to come back to school late one day. The look on his face when he found Myles with some of his best players, naked and on their knees, laughing and carrying on as they took turns sucking his balls in the shower--

Myles laughed and shook his head. He doubted anyone got transferred to a new foster home faster.

As for Mr. Nice-Guy Quarterback--not even his daddy could keep that boy from finding Myles at his new house. And the next one, too. He's probably still taking someone's dick, somewhere. Some fuckers, they're just born to it and don't know until a big-dicked brotha comes along. Myles finally got his new foster family to put a restraining order on that little cocksucker, just because he thought it would be funny to make it public and play the victim, and besides, he wasn't a one-pussy man.

A point which brought him back to the present moment. Myles pulled out his phone and texted Kyle, the white lawyer daddy who had pleased him and Jayden and Damian and all the rest so good the other day.

Im waiting baby hurry up

He was in no real hurry, but it was fun ordering a rich, hot fucker like Kyle around. Coaxing him out of his respectable life into being a white-boy wife. Fuck, but he loved bouncing on dick, and yet Myles knew that he'd FREAK, seeing Myles here, right in his own back yard. White boys, they like to keep it all--what was the word? Compartamented? Something like that.

Shoving his phone back in his pocket, Myles caught the eye of busty cheerleader looking at him curiously. He knew he cut a good image: tall, lanky, broad shoulders, skinny-hipped, a thin bit of beard and mustache teasing his jaw, an earring in each ear, and a brand new fade from the barber. He gave her a wink and blew a kiss. She blushed, looked away, and sneaked another look.

Aw, yeah. If he had time! If he only had time. He'd enjoy fathering a new brat.

Soon he saw a nervous Kyle, trim, decent, and very much the successful suburban dad, come rushing his way, looking around himself anxiously. Myles grinned. He needed to put that fucker at ease.

He waved both hands in the air. "YO, KENNY!" he shouted.

Several people glanced their way, and Myles enjoyed watching it make Kyle even more tense.

Nervous white ass was vulnerable white ass.

Myles felt his dick twitch. He hadn't come looking to fuck, but...

Kyle sidled up close to Myles, red-faced and adorable.

"SHH! Be QUIET! Why are you HERE?"

He didn't whisper; he hissed. He wore a sweatshirt sporting the mascot for his son's team, jeans that hugged his butt, and a tight, knit cap. His cheeks were rosy-pink from both embarrassment and the chill, November air, and a handsome 5 o'clock shadow spread across his strong jaw. Myles undressed him with his eyes, recalling a few choice moments in Kyle's sexual history.

"Told ya, baby." Myles very casually laid a hand on Kyle's ass. "I needed a favor."

"MY GOD!" Kyle swatted the young man's hand away. "Don't touch my butt! We're in PUBLIC!" He was still hissing. "And my KID'S out there on the field, my WIFE, my FAMILY--what do you WANT?"

Another wave of cheers spilled over from the stadium as the announcer called a touchdown for Wauwatosa North:

"And that's number 10, Ethan Bauermann, bringing it home for the Wauwatosa North Wildcats!"

"FUCK!" Kyle gritted his teeth.

"What's wrong, baby?" Myles caught the eye of a middle-aged woman by the concessions stand, eyeing them. "That your boy?"

"YES!" Kyle turned to face Myles directly now. "And I just missed one of his touchdowns! What is this about?"

Keeping one eye on that nosy Karen at concessions, Myles grinned sweetly and patted Kyle's face. "Okay, okay. Baby! Shhh."

Kyle jerked his face away. "STOP THAT! WHAT IS IT?"

"Mm, baby." Myles tossed the woman a quick nod and a wink before slipping a hand around Kyle's waist. This was always the best part, second only to actually sinking dick in ass: letting white folks know he'd taken some of their territory. "I just got one little question."

"Would you STOP TOUCHING me, PLEASE?" Kyle didn't shake off Myles's hand this time, choosing instead to stiffen his body and shake with anger, hoping no one noticed. "Get to the POINT! This is SENIOR NIGHT!"

"Ahhh, SENIOR night!" Myles chuckled, sucked on his vape, and blew the smoke carelessly around him. He rubbed Kyle's side with familiar tenderness. "I remember that, man. I fucked the hottest cunt on Senior Night."

"Yeah, great! Great! But I'm due out on the field at half time to stand with my wife and kid and get a fucking carnation. So OUT WITH IT!"

Myles cocked his head. The Karen had whispered something to a man working with her at the food stand. "What's that black man doing with Kyle Bauermann?" He could almost hear it. It was perfect.

"Baby, ain't you got a cabin up north?"

Kyle's face went slack with surprise. "What?"

"Ain't we heard you say you got a cabin up north? Some hick place called Badger Falls?"

Kyle's brow creased. "No, not in Badger Falls, but--well, it's near there. Why?"

"Kyle?"

It was the man Karen had spoken to, calling across the way. A few other people turned and looked.

"You okay?"

"Shit!" Kyle squeaked under his breath. He turned sharply on his heels. "Oh! Ha! Hey, there, Mike! Hey, there Gloria!" Red faced, Kyle laughed a little too loudly and waved at the inquiring couple. "Uh, yeah! You bet! Yup! This is all, just--uh, this guy, here--just a got a little client issue here! A client from the firm!"

Myles looked at the denim-clad ass before him. That ASS! MPH! How had Jayden bitched this one, anyhow? Or was it Uncle Felix who snagged him, this poor son of a bitch doing some pro bono for him, and then they were late one night at the office, and it was hot last summer, and--yeah, that was it. Took him for the first time in his own office chair! Ha! Pro boner!

"Oh, okay. Gotcha." Mike smiled politely and waved back. With a few more glances in their direction, Gloria and he turned to help a bunch of high schoolers waiting for food.

Kyle spun back on his heels. "See? SEE? You gotta GO. So what is this about my CABIN?"

"Well, me 'n' Papa Jay and all the folks at the crib, we was wonderin' if we could all haul up there and hang next weekend."

"What? NO! Not at my cabin."

"Aw, c'mon, baby." Myles reached out and rubbed Kyle's chest lightly through his sweatshirt. Kyle stiffened up again, but Myles hit nipple fast.

Bingo! Kyle's eyelids fluttered.

"Stop that."

"You don't sound convinced, baby." Myles pinched lightly. He glanced over at Mike and Gloria. Well, shit. They were still looking. Oh, well, he can't help if the neighbors watch.

Pinch! PINCH!

"OPE!" Kyle sucked in his bottom lip and grabbed Myles's hand. "STOP! You know what that does to me!"

"Mm-hm." Pinch! Pinch!

Kyle whimpered.

Myles grinned. "Just let us go to that cabin, baby. I promise, we keep it all pretty and smelling nice. Just one weekend."

Kyle gripped Myles's hand more tightly but didn't draw it away from his pec.

"What is this for?" he muttered. "Why do you want it?"

Myles shrugged. "See what 'up north' is all about." He thumbed the nipple through the sweatshirt, and as Kyle's eyes fluttered again, he tossed old Mike and Gloria a wink and a nod.

"Shit. SHIT!" Kyle finally forced the hand off his tit. "I can't believe I'm even considering this. It's nothing illegal, is it? I have a LIFE!"

The crowd roared.

"AND THAT'S ANOTHER ONE FROM NUMBER 10, BAUERMANN, PULLING TOSA NORTH INTO THE LEAD BY HALF TIME!"

"FUCK! FUCK!" Kyle pulled out his phone. "My wife is texting me! It's half time soon!"

"So can we, baby?" Myles pulled back his tactile assault and simply held the poor, white dad in his gaze. He pushed out a pouting lip. "Hm? I wanna leave ya'll alone, I really do, but--you making this hard, baby."

For added effect, Myles reached down and gripped his crotch.

"Really damn hard," he whispered.

Kyle's nostrils flared. He glanced at the stadium, and then towards Mike and Gloria, who looked away just in time. He turned back to Myles.

"Okay. OKAY!" He huffed a sigh. "Can you remember a code?"

"Code?" Myles pulled out his phone.

"Yes. There's no key. Just a code. 061706."

Myles grinned, punching it into his phone. "What's that? Someone's birthday?"

Kyle blushed. "Our wedding anniversary. And it turns off the cameras, too."

Myles raised an eyebrow. "Cameras?"

"YES!" Kyle's face grew fierce. "You HAVE to turn off the cameras, okay? It's in the kitchen cupboard. Once you're inside, IMMEDIATELY TURN OFF THE FUCKING CAMERAS! Fucking hell! I can't believe I'm letting you do this."

Myles chuckled, a low, deep chuckle in his chest, and slipped his phone and his vape away. "A'right, a'right. We gonna turn off them cameras, okay? Don't need yer missus seeing our black dicks swinging around her cabin. She might come join us."

Kyle's eyes widened. "What are doing up there? Tell me!"

"Nothing, nothing. Seriously, baby. Just checking out up north, maybe do a little... hunting. We'll be respectful."

Kyle looked doubtful, but he had no time to ask more. Myles slipped both hands around his prey, leaned forward, and nearly, but not quite, pressed his lips to Kyle's.

"Thanks for that code, baby. Now, gimme some sugar."

"What? You're insane!" Kyle trembled, his eyes angry, his chin quivering.

"Baby. You know what you do to me." Myles glanced towards the stadium, its steel girders open to where they stood. He grinned.

Perfect.

"You got time for a quick...?" He jerked his eyes meaningfully towards the murky depths under the stadium.

Kyle whimpered, his eyes full of doubt, but Myles knew his man. And from the looks of it, Mike and Gloria were learning to know Kyle in a whole new way, too.

"I can't!"

"Baby. Please? You know you want it." Myles patted Kyle's hip and enjoyed the shiver it produced. Very, very lightly, he brushed his large, dark lips across Kyle's. More shivers.

"CRAP! This is INSANE!" Kyle looked around hurriedly; Myles was thankful to see Mike and Gloria look away just in time once more. Kyle turned back, his eyes full of lust and something like hope.

"We gotta go fast!" he hissed. A very nervous, unsure smile tugged at his lips. "And I'll just--I'll just--" He dropped his voice. "--I'll just suck that fatty fast, okay?"

"You bet, man. It's Senior Night." Myles smiled proudly at his conquest.

To be continued.