With our pants down our ankles, we shuffle to my bedroom. ‘You will stay a little while?’ I look at him questioningly, ‘This seems like just the beginning.’ Stephon does not answer, but the confirmation comes quickly. He loosens his shoelaces, takes off his pants and dives on my bed. I do not need more. I quickly follow his example and fall into his arms. Stephon is a great kisser. Deep and wet. In the meantime, I feel his hand go looking for my ass. ‘Only real tops do that,’ I think satisfied. I roll on my stomach and Stephon licks down my back. His hands pull my buttocks apart. I feel his powerful tongue on my anus. He rims me the way he kisses: deep and wet. After five minutes his tongue gives way to a finger. Two finger. Three fingers. He sticks his fingers all the way in me and passes the circle muscle. I don’t have to wait long for a new invasion when he pulls his fingers out of me. I hear him spit on his cock and feel a second on my man-pussy. I crawl on my knees. He places his dick against my anus. Because of his tongue, fingers and the saliva there is no resistance. Without warning he goes balls deep. I give an encouraging deep moan. Stephon pulls out of me to force his big black cock back in again. Then the real pounding begins. Powerful and with long strokes. Then short and soft. We soon have found the right cadence. I press over his black penis and take over the rhythm for a short while. Then he grasps me tightly by my hips. Stephon takes over again. After about fifteen minutes, his breathing becomes more intense. His punches get harder and faster. With heavy moaning he cums deep inside me. With his hands around my chest, he falls down panting in my neck.

This is how my introduction to Stephon started. Every day I travel by train from my house to work. A trip no longer than fifteen minutes. I live close to the train station and my office is within walking distance from the other train station. Fixed times up and down vague acquaintances among the fellow commuters. A nod in the morning or evening. Occasionally a chat, usually with an incidental delay; then there is always mutual solidarity and common complaining about the Dutch Railways.

Only after a few weeks i notice the newcomer. He gets in at the same station and leaves the train at the same stop. The day I see him, I follow him with my eyes. He walks towards the university with his beautiful leather laptop bag. Certainly not a student. He must have left student life behind for some time. He also doesn’t look like a student. Nicely in a suit. Not exactly student-like. In the evening I see him again. I get in the train behind him
and follow it to the same compartment. He opens his laptop and gets to work. Occasionally I peek over my tablet. I read the online newspaper. Hair clipper short, deep black hair, broad nose, powerful jaws.

We travel up and down together for weeks. One evening, due to a project that I wanted to finish, I approach the platform much later than normal. I see him standing. My decision is immediately made; I’m going to address him. “A little later today?” I ask him as I pass by. He looks at me in surprise: “Yes, a farewell reception from a professor,” he explains his presence at the different time. The ice broke immediately. We talk back and forth about our work. My suspicion is confirmed. He works at the university and teaches at the philosophy faculty. Our train arrives and we board. I sit down opposite him. His ritual remains unchanged. He opens his laptop and starts working. In the meantime, I read “God-damned days on a god-damned globe” by Dimitri Verhulst. I regularly hear deep sighs from behind his laptop. ‘You are certainly dealing with a heavy discourse,’ I ask. ‘It’s not really about the content, it’s about the formulations,’ he tells me. “Just let me take a look, I’m just reading Verhulst, he knows how to describe to the point,” I say boldly. He invites me beside him. Together we solve his problem. To give his laptop more stability, he is sitting with his legs wide. His knee touches mine. I leave it that way and give a little pressure back. With a vague smile, he confirms our understanding of the physical contact when the intercom announces our station. On the escalator I ask him if he wants to have a drink with me. He takes a peak at his watch. ‘I just missed my bus, so that seems like a tight plan,’ he says. ‘It’s about time we know each other’s names,’ I explain my outstretched hand. ‘Indeed, Stephon, nice to meet you and thanks for your help.’

In the cafe we sit next to each other. Stephon orders a pinot grigio and I join him. Again I feel his knee against mine. His action has no necessary reason like on the train. I put my hand on his thigh without the other guests seeing it. I won’t leave it there for long. I find my way to his crotch. ‘You said you live close by. My glass is empty, you also have white wine at home, ‘Stephon asks, smiling at me. ‘I do think we have the same taste,’ I add jokingly.

When I open my front door, he quickly pushes me in and closes the door behind him. I stand with my back to the wall. Stephon grabs me tightly. I can not go anywhere. He is big and muscular. His mouth is looking for my lips. In the meantime I loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt. In the dim light of the corridor I see his beautiful black skin. I slide everything over his shoulders at the same time and let it fall to the floor. I knead his crotch. The promising filling is rock solid in his trousers. If I continue with his belt, Stephon starts his job. Soon we are both naked with our pants on our ankles. I lower myself with my back to the wall. Eye in eye also his stiff dick, I can hardly believe my eyes. A purple-black cock over eight inches with a shimmering drop of pre-cum. I lick the pearl of his glans and take his big dick in my mouth. I deepthroat his cock . At first a bit of gagging, but soon I am used to its size. He fucks in my mouth with dedication. Stephon is rough and then tender at the same time. Sometimes he forcefully pushes my head deeper on his dick. Then he strokes my hair lovingly. I hear a soft moan above me. He is pushing my head against the wall. I am stuck between the wall and Stephon. He increases the pace. In the meantime, I grab my own cock and start jerking. With cnfident strokes he fucks me deep. I can not escape. Then I feel his cock getting fatter. With a few strong waves he cums in my throat. Stephon pulls back a little and I taste the last ray of bittersweet on my tongue. That is enough for me. I spray my own sperm in a few bursts between his legs on the floor. He pulls me up and he presses his mouth on mine. I let him taste his own sperm. He looks at me horny. “Ever had such a tasty Surinamese snack,” he asks me smiling. ‘It’s not the first time, I confess, ‘however this time it tastes like i want more.’

We are both enjoying the raw and sensual fucking afterwards. ‘Do you have to go home, is someone waiting for you at home?’ I ask Stephon. He does not answer, but he is already pressing his mouth at mine. ‘I have some clean underpants for you tomorrow,’ I add. Stephon does not need more
persuasion.

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