Skinny White Boy with Cream

By Bobbi Mare

It was my lunch hour, and I was walking through the neighborhood, on my way to the coffee shop for my skinny vanilla latte, when I heard a holler of, “Hey, white boy!” I turned to find a middle-aged black man standing in the doorway of one of the new townhomes. He was a big guy, like a football player who’d softened a bit in his retirement, but still powerfully built. He had a well-trimmed goatee on his chin, but his head was shiny and bald. “Get your white butt over here,” he yelled from across the street. “I got work for you.”

And that’s how it all began.

Once inside, I was stunned. I didn't know what to do, what to say. “I got a condition,” he told me. “A medical one. A prescription for daily treatment too, only it's a tough prescription to fill.” Words completely failed me in the face of his impossible mass of manhood. I just stood there, staring, with my mouth hanging open, unable to process what was happening. He wanted to get on my knees, take him in my mouth, and swallow every ebony drop. It was madness. It was too much to ask, especially of a complete stranger, but there was something irresistible about him. I wasn't gay, not even bi-curious, but after a single afternoon of filling that prescription, I wouldn’t be able to call myself straight either.

And that’s not where it ended . . . but you’ll have to read my story to read to find out more.

"Skinny White Boy with Cream" is an interracial work of hardcore straight-to-gay erotica, intended for adults only, featuring a dominant black man, a submissive white twink, first-time sexual exploration, and (just maybe) the potential for romance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bobbi Mare
• Release date: Apr 11, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005525101

Bobbi Mare

Author of nasty, naughty, trashy, taboo erotica.As a mature sissy who grew up with the Nexus, Beeline, and Reluctant Press paperbacks, and who matured through Transformation, Forced Womanhood, and the Visions of Fantasy She-Male magazines, I have a lifelong love of erotic transgender and fetish fiction.Submissive sissies in pretty outfits and erotic bondage is my signature theme, but within my fiction you can also expect to themes of find forced feminization, breast growth and breastfeeding, oral and anal penetration, chastity and castration, butt plugs and pegging, stunning shemales and fabulous futanari, big black stallions (both literally and figuratively), pony boys and pony girls, massive cocks with huge loads, and other deviant delights.If you are not at least 18 years old, with an open mind and an insatiable sexual curiosity, then you probably shouldn't be reading my bio, much less my stories.

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Skinny White Boy with Cream

Bobbi Mare

Published by Bobbi Mare at Smashwords

Copyright 2022 Bobbi Mare

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All rights reserved. For mature audiences only. All characters are above the legal age. Don’t buy or read this book if you are under the legal age or anything you see herein is illegal where you live. Don’t try any of this at home.

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Skinny White Boy With Cream

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About the Author

Skinny White Boy with Cream

One of the best things about spring was being able to take my lunch hour walk without bundling up in boots, gloves, and a jacket to navigate the haphazard path of plowed and unplowed sidewalks. It was still early enough that I needed a sweater – yesterday had been cold enough for a jacket – but the absence of white everywhere did wonders for my spirits.

I was on my way to the coffee shop for my usual skinny vanilla latte when I heard a holler of, Hey, white boy!

Even before I turned to look, an instinctive, Yes, Sir? slipped out of my mouth. It likely wouldn’t have been so embarrassing, had it not been for who it turned out was behind the call.

When I did turn, I spotted a middle-aged black man standing in the doorway of one of the new townhomes, the ‘luxury’ end unit with the extra sliver of yard. He was a big guy, looking like a football player who’d softened a bit in his retirement, but still powerfully built. He had a well-trimmed goatee on his chin, but his head was shiny and bald.

Respect! That's what I'm fucking talking about! he yelled from across the street. Get your white ass over here. I got work for you.

I was already taking my first step before I knew I’d even take a first step. Why I did it, I don't know. I had a job. A good, entry-level job. A respectable job, one that paid me a good bit of money. The job was why, even though I worked from home, I was wearing khakis and a polo shirt when I could have spent my days in cheap pajamas or tighty-whities and a ratty old t-shirt. Nothing proper could come out of this conversation but, for some unknown reason, I found myself crossing the street and cutting across the driveway to his door.

Maybe it would have been different if we were downtown, somewhere I might not feel safe, but this was the suburbs. Not only that, but this side of the block was composed entirely of the newest, most overpriced units available. It just screamed safety and responsibility. That was the whole community sales pitch.

Plus, it helped a lot