by The Duo
Continued …
I was in college, and yadda yadda yadda Tyrell Jackson and I practically carried a wannabe collegeboy home after the frat party. This collegeboy was my old friend Javier Martinez, a fellow whose feet I’ve daydreamed about for a long, long time.
And once we arrived at Javier’s place, we hauled him into his bedroom and set him down on the bed. We looked at the young Mexican sprawled across the bed, not sure of what to do. Tyrell shook his head in silence at the sight before us, breathing a long sigh. He suggested that maybe we should have gotten Javier to a hospital or something, but I didn’t think he’d been hurt that badly. The wannabe collegeboy’s mom wasn’t home and wouldn’t be for hours, so we decided to wait for her in case Javier wasn’t up to telling her what had gone down.
I stepped to the edge of the bed. Ty and I began to undress the unresisting and rather dazed Javier, starting first by pulling off the eighteen-year-old’s worn sneakers, one coming off easier than the other. Then I pulled off the wannabe collegeboy’s threadbare socks, tossing them and the sneakers into a pile by the side of the bed. Ty moved up the bed to undress the wannabe collegeboy's upper torso. To do this Tyrell, who was as strong as a bull, actually hefted the wannabe collegeboy's body up into a seated position and leaned his back and head against the headboard. He pulled and pushed the sweat-soaked shirt up and over the Javier's head. The young Mexican slid back down the bed, allowing Ty to pull the shirt the rest of the way off. Tyrell actually used the shirt to clean kid’s somewhat bloody cheeks and chin before he tossed it on the pile.
When I turned back to the wannabe collegeboy, I saw that he was asleep!
And while he snoozed - and while Ty searched the house for a toilet to piss in - I began stroking the Latino lad’s smooth soles. I dug feet and I just had to feel the baby-faced Mexican’s pedal extremities. It wasn’t long before I was stroking and fondling both the young man’s feet in earnest and Javier started to complain in his sleep, "Mmmmm … parada! ... mmmm …." He then giggled a little bit. "Pa … heh hee … rada! Hee hee …"
When he dropped back off to sleep I reached out to look at them more carefully and ran my hands along the tops of his feet, being careful not to awake the sweet sleeper. I hadn’t planned on doing this, but when my fingers caressed the soft soles, the young Mexican’s toes involuntarily flexed. I stopped stroking his beautiful bare feet when Javier rolled over and looked like he was about to wake up. And I stopped just in time too, because by then Tyrell had returned.
Javier finally woke up around two hours later and was very thirsty. We brought him juice from his fridge, which he promptly gulped down. It came back up in less than a minute, and that scared the hell out of me and I began to wonder if maybe Ty had been right about the hospital thing. His dad (Maurice Jackson, current co-owner of The Harambee Rib & Soul Food Hut) had been a paramedic before becoming an entrepreneur after all. But Javier himself assured us that he was okay, and after another hour long nap he woke up the picture of health and vitality--chock-full of energy.
Tyrell told the wannabe collegeboy the whole story about how I’d kicked Keola Mualul’s ass. It was embarrassing being talked about with such praise, but I was sort of proud of myself too. I mean Keola was twice my size and I had taken him down with righteous rage.
Javier listened to the tale with rapt attention, his toffee-colored eyes glowing. I don’t think that kid ever had anyone stand up for him before. You have to remember that we weren’t really friends at all. I hardly knew him.
While Javier listened to Ty recount the story, he was kneeling on the bed--positioned so that his bare feet hung over the side to present me with an unobstructed view of his soles. Once again I took full advantage of the opportunity to familiarize myself with these size-10 handsome feet--the well-shaped toes, the soft pink heels, and above all, the beautiful curves of the insteps and soles. The only calloused skin was a slight roughness on his heels.
I didn’t have long to admire the baby-faced Mexican’s feet because there suddenly came the sound of a key jiggling in the apartment’s door lock … and then the opening of the door itself.
Javier’s mother came home from work and went straight to the kitchen where she saw her son sitting at the table eating soup. Also in the kitchen were two non-Mexican young men (me and Ty) she’d never seen before.
“Hola madre.” Javier greeted her as he took a saltine cracker from its package and sunk it into the noodle soup.
Eyeing me and Tyrell warily, she walked over to him from behind and draped her arms around him giving him a warm hug. Apparently she trusted her eighteen-year-old enough not to question who he let into the house. She only got a little crazy when she noticed the bruises on his face. That’s when she began to demand an explanation in Spanish. I don’t speak Spanish, but I comprehended enough to know that she wanted an elucidation on what had taken place.
We told her everything that had happened and she listened intently. She didn’t speak English too well, but she understood enough to realize that we’d done a good thing.
After Tyrell and I left I didn’t see Javier again for about two weeks. Then I was at the supermarket and, while at the head of the line, spotted him about eight people down at the end of the line. He saw me getting my groceries bagged and his handsome face lit up and he waved at me with a huge, sweet smile.
After leaving the store I waited for him. Since neither of us had any groceries that needed refrigeration we decided to go to the movies. A totally spontaneous thing this was. I could hardly understand his English. Still we both wanted to see the new (at the time) Schwarzenegger movie Total Recall. After the movie we went out to dinner, on me, and had a nice conversation. From what I could understand, he really seemed to have a good head on his shoulders.
He invited me over to his house after dinner - said I could even stay the night if I wanted. I told him that I couldn’t stay the night, as I needed to get up early for work in the morning, but said I would go home with him for a visit at least.
His mom wasn’t home and wouldn’t be for hours. And he had known this. He also knew that I had taken a special interest in his feet that day Tyrell Jackson and I had brought him home. He knew I longed to suck and lick his beautiful and sexy toes and soles. He sat on the bed and slowly took off his sneakers and socks … and then pointed at his bare feet and then at me! As I’ve said, he couldn’t speak much English, but the young Mexican made me understand that he was offering me the chance to do what I wanted with his feet.
And I took it. Unfortunately I took more than what he was offering.
After sucking his toes I brutally beat him until he lost consciousness. When he woke up (but was still too weak to fight me off) I smiled, unzipped my trousers and freed my massive dick. I then ran my throbbing erection over the globes of his ass. I lay my hand on Javier’s left asscheek and stroked it lovingly. The wannabe collegeboy moaned, but then began to reign in his pleasure in anticipation of the pain that he knew was coming. I pressed my penis in the crack of his butt. An odd mix of agony and pleasurable joy enveloped the Latino lad’s being.
The Nigerian gripped his waist and spread his legs. I guess the fear of being torn open began creeping into his psyche, or Javier began to shout.
¡"parada! ¡Lastima! ¡Por favor parada! ¡Por favor! ¡Misericordia! Misericordia!"
The head of my dick rammed into his anus quickly. Nothing could have prepared Javier the intensity of the pain that shot from his asshole. The eighteen-year-old’s howls vibrated in his throat. My dick expanded the ring of his anus so painfully as it raced urgently to wedge even more inside his rectum.
All the whileJavier whimpered like a wounded animal, his body a ball of agony. My cock seemed like it was filling every inch of his entrails. The more I slammed into Javier, the more the wannabe collegeboy howled piteously. I drilled him for twenty minutes--fucking the young man as if there was no tomorrow. Javier shrieked as if he were being murdered. The howls and shrieks and pitiful pleas for mercy turned me on and I came like an exploding volcano into Javier Martinez’s insides.
I stopped my thrusts and held my cock in Javier and ground against the youth hard, one hand reaching down and playing with his dick. The wannabe collegeboy threw his head back and screamed for mercy and began to shake. I resumed fucking him like mad again until the Latino lad’s legs began to shake too bad. I caught the eighteen-year-old in my arms as he collapsed in a dead faint.
