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Serving Cedric

Amateur

It can be difficult doing business in the Caribbean region, and that’s what Suriname regards itself as. It used to be Dutch Guiana and it is on the northern coast of South America, so yes, technically it’s touching the Caribbean. But it is not an island and it doesn’t even have beaches, just mud and mangrove trees which protect the land from erosion.

It also has vast supplies of black people, and they’re not keen on whites, to be perfectly frank. Even though they are several hundred years down the road from slavery, there is still resentment and a feeling that they are victims. And where there are victims there must be oppressors, so that’s me: even though I have never done or said anything against a person of African origin, I am guilty of the sins of my fathers and therefore to be treated with suspicion and veiled hostility.

This spills over into sexual matters. I can see black women considering whether it would be worth sleeping with me because of the money they assume I have. And they are sure I would want to sleep with them because they are naturally sexy, God’s chosen race in that respect. And although they wish they had the pale delicateness of white women, they feel deep down there is more sheer woman in them.

In practice it doesn’t always play out like that, and while I have had some fantastic sexual encounters with black women, there have also been the shy one, the repressed ones, the mean-spirited ones. As much as I love getting my tongue in there, in their secret places and eating them where perhaps some of their men don’t want to go, you can’t generalize.

This particular day I was supposed to have a meeting with a minor government official, Cedric something. I waited half an hour at the offices of the marketing firm with which we had an appointment, but he didn’t show up. It’s not uncommon in that part of the world, but I feel if you let it go unremarked, you’re only contributing to an attitude that is good for nobody.

I got the marketing girl to phone his office and she learned that he was there. It was 10 minutes’ walk, so I headed straight round there.

“He’s not here,” the receptionist said, with no apology or indication that she gave a shit.

“He was here 10 minutes ago,” I said. She disappeared into the back room and came back soon but slowly.

“He is here but he’s busy.”

“So am I,” I said, barging past her into the larger office behind. He wasn’t in it but another secretary pointed me to a chair and I sat down.

Five minutes later Cedric came in. He was a short, stocky, shaven-headed man with very dark skin even by Surinamese standards and he was smartly dressed in a dark suit and white shirt with a blue tie. He sat behind his desk and chatted in Dutch to the girl, then looked across at me.

“I hear you are angry because I wasn’t at the meeting.”

“Well, I’ve got a job to do too,” I said, hoping to sound reasonable rather than Onwin whinging. Cedric smiled and chuntered off down an alley of conversational irrelevance which men in his position tended to do, filling any awkward moment with words in the belief that the moment would pass and all would be okay.

“So tonight,” he said. “Come to my tourism office on the river and have some drinks with us.”

Like many government officials he had a private enterprise, for which his public role was beneficial, opening doors and easing them past obstacles which other people would have to bribe their way through.

As it happened I wasn’t busy that evening, so I drove there at eight, as arranged. The office was right on the river, a brown, slow-moving, heavy smear that separated the city from a country area.

At the back of the office was a deck on which Cedric was sitting, watching the world go by and sipping Scotch whisky. He ushered me into a seat and fixed me a drink and spoke dreamily about the country with its troubled recent past and the current eco-tourism industry which brought people in to spend time in the rain forest.

Cedric spoke for literally 20 minutes, refilling the whisky glasses as he did so. He was the kind of talker who doesn’t seem to mind what the listener thinks. As long as you are listening, he must be doing okay.

“And then,” he concluded, “there is the modern phenomenon. Sex tourism. White men coming here looking for black cock.” He looked at me and smiled apologetically. “I know you are not one of those,” he said. “I have seen you looking at my secretaries. I have heard about you fucking your cleaner. Yes, it’s a small town.”

Cedric put some music on and we relaxed and talked about football. Suriname had provided several top players for the Dutch national side, sons of black families that had emigrated to Holland because they feared independence wouldn’t work when it was introduced in the late 20th century.

Eventually we both drifted off in an alcohol-inspired reverie, only for Cedric to suddenly sit up straight.

“We can have a spa,” he said. “I have an apartment here too, upstairs, with a spa bath.”

I followed him up the stairs and he showed me into a darkened bedroom.

“Swim trunks in here,” he said, opening a drawer. “I presume you want to wear something…”

He had already slipped out of his chinos and t shirt and was standing next to me, wearing just a tight pair of underpants. Looking at me rather intently, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband and slid them down to his knees.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said. “We are just men getting changed together. Take off your clothes.”

I slipped my shirt over my head and unzipped my jeans so they fell to the floor. I didn’t dare look at his body any lower than his chest. I slipped out of my underpants and I was standing naked in a bedroom with a man who I had to admit I found Onwin Giriş attractive in a mindless, purely physical way.

“You see, some Dutch men would be overcome with excitement at this point,” Cedric said. “they would be so eager to suck my black cock that their own cock would be shiny with fluid already.”

I was searching for words, but none were forthcoming.

“Of course,” Cedric said, sitting on the bed, “there would be nothing wrong in two men having some enjoyment together, on a strictly equal basis. Not a white guy obsessed with big black cocks, or a black guy curious about what a white ass was like. But…” He lay back and my eyes flicked downwards to see a large, hard, slightly bent erection, dark and shining and inviting.

“So if you want to lie down with me,” he continued, “there is no shame in that. “

I did my best to take the words literally and sensibly, not as the flagrant temptation I knew they were. I lay next to him.

“That’s better,” Cedric said. “Now, if I touch your penis, it’s because it is erect, and erect dicks want to be touched.” He took my severe, concrete-hard erection in his hand.

“You have a very nice penis,” Cedric said, leaning down and kissing my left nipple. “It’s as big as mine, look.” I looked down and saw he was now holding my cock next to his own in his big hand. I put my hand down and felt his balls and his head came up to mine and he plunged his tongue into my mouth.

“Just like fucking a woman,” he said. “You’re holding a cock and so am I. Just like women. And women like to suck. Like this.”

Cedric slid his shiny dark body down the bed and took my cock in his mouth. I stroked his shaven head as he enjoyed the head of my prick. His hands were all over me, tickling my groin, exploring between my legs and worming into my crack.

“Time for you to explore me,” he said simply, coming back up and lying on his back, available for my pleasure. I dived straight for that hard, bent dick and enjoyed its unspoken promises. I licked it long and slowly. I licked Cedric’s dark, mysterious scrotum, his bag of balls, in which, somewhere, lay the fount of his semen. I wanted that semen. All over me. On my chest. In my hand. In my navel. In my pubic hair. Between my buttocks. In my mouth.

Most of all I wanted Cedric’s spunk wherever Cedric wanted to squirt it.

“Turn over,” I said, trembling with desire.

“What you want to do?’ he asked, fearless but curious, wanting to hear me confess my basest desires.

“I want to lick your ass,” I said.

“You want to lick my black ass?” he repeated.

“I want to lick your black ass,” I confirmed.

“And why would you want to do that?” he asked, teasingly.

“Cedric,’ I said. “I just want to. Hasn’t anybody licked your ass before?”

“No they haven’t,’ he said.

“Well turn over onto your knees and let me do it.”

“On my Onwin Güncel Giriş knees?” he asked warily. “To a white man?”

“It’s not a submissive thing,” I said, happily licking his nipple. “I am going to lick your ass. I’ll be on my knees too. With my tongue where no respectable tongue should be.”

Cedric turned over and thrust his ass backwards. I got down there, got my face behind him and licked him. I loved it and he could tell. I licked him hungrily, desperate to get to his terrible secret essence.

“I think I like getting my ass licked by a respectable white man,” he said, in between sighs and gasps of ecstasy. “Let’s go downstairs and do it on the deck.”

We walked quickly and slightly awkwardly, erections swaying, down the stairs and to the place we had been before. Cedric knelt on a chair and I knelt on the floor. And like a choreographed pairing, he made his ass available to me and I licked it, in the fresh air. I wasn’t aware of anyone being in the vicinity, and frankly if there had been they could have just gut over there and let me lick them too.

“You know what I have to do now,” Cedric said. “I have to return the favour. But I’m not going to lick your ass.”

“No?”

“No. We both know what I’m going to do.”

“Tell me.”

“I am going to put my cock in your ass,” Cedric said happily. “Sit there for a minute.”

I sat in the chair where only a few minutes earlier I had been sitting in utter respectability. Now, as if in a time warp, I had licked my host’s anus. And loved it. And I was waiting while he, I presumed, fetched some lubricant. To fuck me.

He was back and before he could do anything I knelt on the floor and sucked that powerful, kinked cock.

“Man. This is good,” Cedric said as I abased myself before him, sucking his penis with utter abandon. Then I got onto the chair as he had and presented my ass to him. He lubed me up, put some on his dick and stood behind me, his cock head nestling in my crack.

“You ever had a black cock up your ass?” he asked, enjoying our complicity in this wanton act.

“Just fuck me, Cedric,” I said, and he needed no further invitation. He eased his cock into my ass, big and bold and determined as it dispensed with my sphincter, and slowly, gently filling my cavity with his big, beautiful meat.

Cedric the stocky black muscular unreliable civil servant served up his prime specialty, his fabulous boner, into my anal cavity. And it felt so good I wanted him in there forever. He pushed and pulled, his cock rammed and dragged my insides and he fucked me, he fucked me, he fucked my willing ass until I was overcome with crazy, intoxicating lust and I wanked my desperate cock and waited for afterwards, when I could send my white man’s spunk shooting free.

Cedric reached around and felt my slippery knob.

“My black cock made you come,” he said. “Guess what happens now.”

“You come inside me?” I begged.

“I come inside you,” he agreed. “I rub my big dirty black penis inside your asshole… like this… and when I can’t wait any more… I launch my spunk into you… like this.”

And with that, Cedric shot his semen into my ass.

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