My BBC Stories: The Party Favor

By Brock Johnson

Tysheem and friends find out one of their college professors has a kink and needs them to satisfy it. After a hot interlude in his wife's office, the crew shows up at the professor's house for an evening of hot birthday action.

"But that night, as we stood outside the Noonans' door and about to ring the bell, we looked like anything but the clean-cut young men we were. We looked like a KKK wet dream of black thuggery!
“Hey Tysheem,” said Tyrone nervously, “you sure this is safe? They're not going to call the cops when they see us?”
“Nah,” I said. “Like I said, they want this.”
On the other hand, he was right to be nervous. The Noonans lived in Fieldston, a very exclusive section of New York City. A lot of movers and shakers live there. It's so exclusive, it doesn't bother with the old NYPD, but has its own police force.
“They gonna be cool with me here?” That was Keisha. She's Tyrone's girl and she goes everywhere with him. She's in the same program as Tyrone. She's a bit crazy, too. She's joined us a few times whenever we've had a chance to run a train on some hot white-girl curious about black and/or helping her man get his cuckold thrill.
“Just sort of slip in with the rest,” I said. “I don't think they'll notice or mind. Especially when things get hot and heavy.”
Keisha grinned. “She as pretty as you say?”
“Oh yes,” I said. “And she loves BBC!”
“Then what are you waiting for? Knock!”
I knocked. Waited. Knocked again.
“They home?” said Tyleek.
I shrugged. “Tonight's the night.” I raised my fist to knock again when the door opened. Caitlin stood there in the light from the foyer behind her. It lit her up as though she wore a halo. Total illusion of course. She was an angel only in that she was so fucking gorgeous. She wore a simple white robe that hid all but her face, her hands, and her bare feet.
“Tysheem,” she said. “Glad you came.” She looked past me to my friends. Her nostrils flared and she smiled. “Good, you are all here.” She stepped aside and waved us in.
We stepped past her. The door clicked shut behind us. It was on.
The Noonan's had a huge living room. It had comfortable and modern furniture scattered around. The walls had tasteful paintings. The lighting was low, but not too dim. Wide drapes hid the large windows that looked into their back yard. The opposite wall sported a huge, flat television.
Professor Noonan sat on a recliner. He had a tablet in his hand, as though we had interrupted him in the act of reading. He, too, wore a simple robe. He watched us march into the living, pretending not to recognize me as one of his students. He feigned surprise at the interruption.
“Honey,” he said. “Is this really the time to let guests into the house?” He looked at me. “I'm sorry,” he said,” you all will have to leave. My wife and I were about to have some private time, if you know what I mean.”
Caitlin reached up and touched my cheek with the palm of her hand. "No,” she said. “I want them to be here.”
Wow. It all sounded so stilted and fake. I caught Ty out of the corner of my eye shake with suppressed laughter. I whispered, “Don't you dare!"

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tall Tale Depot, Inc.
• Release date: Jun 3, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463597613

Brock Johnson

One should live one's life according one's own credo. I have always believed this. I have traveled the world and had many adventures as the captain of my own destiny. I have always been the one to have a girl in every port. I have always been the one in command of any situation in which I found myself. I have been a man who has lived life as a man ought. And because of that I give to you the experiences of a lifetime as a man who knows what he wants and gets what he wants. My stories are only slightly altered from the pages of my biography. Raised in a Florida town, I joined the Merchant Marine and traveled the world. I have seen everything worth seeing and done everything worth doing. Now I share the experiences of a life well lived, the life of a man, with you. Enjoy!

Book preview

My BBC Stories:

The Party Favor

by

Brock Johnson

Copyright 2019 by Tall Tale Depot, Inc.

All Rights Reserved

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

All persons depicted in this fiction are consenting adults over the age of eighteen, as required by federal law.

Who knew old Professor Jack Noonan had such a kink?

Every college and university has these courses everyone has to take. Some schools call it the Central Curriculum. Others call it the General Education Courses. My school called it the General Distribution Courses. These are the courses the college forces all their students to take. Why? Who knows. Maybe they have to justify their high prices.

I don't know.

I didn't care much while I was going to school in the Bronx on a basketball scholarship. Just one more refuge from the hood, I was glad to have the chance for a better life. As an engineering student, I really wasn't interested in in stuff outside my major. Once in a while, I'd take a course that was truly interesting and I'd come out the other end with an interest in something I'd never thought of before. Still, most of those general courses could be boring as fuck!

But, in the end, one of them was a lot more interesting at its end, than was promised at the beginning. As a black kid from the slums, I was very happy to find this silver lining to an otherwise gray experience in useless classes.

It happened like this:

Dr. Noonan taught a course called Afro-Cuban Religion. My school requires all its students to take a religion course (being affiliated with a religious order). I had waited until my junior year to take the religion requirement. Frankly, most of the courses had stupid names or were things I just wasn't interested in. But Afro-Cuban! I'm African-American. My neighborhood has lots of latinos in it. Seemed like a natural thing.

Right?

Wrong!

But it wasn't the content that got me down. It was a the professor. Professor Noonan was a racist. But he was the worst kind of racist. He was a white-savior type of racist. He was come down from on high to help the poor masses of black-folk. He was woke and would tell you every chance he'd get.

Even worse, I was the only black kid in his class! So I had to endure his bullshit in a million ways. And...

Ah, I won't bore you with the details.

As I said, this particular dark cloud had a silver lining. And that was Noonan's wife, Caitlin. She, too, was a professor at the school. And she was considerably younger than Noonan. And she was hot.

I should mention that I have this fetish about white girls. Maybe that's fucked up, but it's there. There's something about slipping my dick into a pale, white pussy that just drives me insane. I mean, I love all pussy. Black women. Asians. Latina's. I've had them all. But that white pussy. Damn! Just the thought of a white cunt surrounded by blond or red hair give me serious wood!

And coming to this school, and being on the basketball team has thrown more white-girl snatch at me than I could shake my big, black stick at.

And Professor Caitlin Noonan was fucking gorgeous.

She was in her thirties with long reddish-blond hair that went past her shoulders. She had a pale, Irish complexion with only a few freckles – they accentuated her beauty rather than detracting from it. The