Date: Thu, 28 Sep 2017 20:40:55 +0000 (UTC) From: Erin Boy Subject: Knotty Boy The first black guy I had sex with was in boy scouts. Back then we called them colored. He was maybe 12 and I was 16. One day I took half a dozen scouts on a bus to where we could hike to a watershed preservation area. We had plans to lay out an orienteering course through the woods between two fire towers. Three boys would go ahead until they were almost out of sight and hold up a flag for us to draw a bead on. Then we would catch up to them and repeat the process. At some point about halfway, the forward team dropped to the ground. I wondered what the hell they were doing when one of them gave us the signal to advance quietly. When we caught up to them, crouching low, they were peering over a low ridge. They put fingers to lips to tell us to be quiet. Raising my head above the ridge I could see two men, maybe college aged. One was leaning with his back against a tree facing sideways to us. The other was kneeling at his feet, his head bobbing up and down in a tell-tale motion. Little Kenny, the 11 year old tenderfoot asked what they were doing. Clifford, the more mature, 12 year old colored kid explained he was getting a blow job. Kenny asked what a blow job was, to everyone's amusement. I told them to shush. As we watched, the action became more vigorous until the guy getting sucked writhed in the throes of orgasm, holding the guy's head while he skull fucked him full of cum. Clifford explained that the guy was shooting his jizz in the other guys mouth. The two guys rearranged their clothing and went their separate ways. It wasn't until I was well into adulthood that I learned our course had taken us along the edge of a popular gay cruising site at a park accessible from a major highway. I brushed off requests for further explanation but Clifford kept going on about it and clearly knew what he was talking about. He had been in various foster homes for several years and was apparently well acquainted with the things one could do with a penis. We got back to work, finished laying out the course and took the bus back to the Square where we began to split up. Clifford walked a ways with me and asked if I could go back to his house where I could help him with his knot tying. I agreed. When we got there, his foster mother greeted me and asked if it would be all right if she left us alone to go to the store. In the room he shared with a foster brother, he got some clothesline out of the closet and we sat down to try the knots needed to pass second class. The bowline was one of the tricky ones and one I could do in a competition where you had to demonstrate what you would do if you fell down a well and broke your arm. This meant being able to tie a bowline around your waist with one hand tied behind your back while blindfolded. I showed the boy how you flipped the line around, sending the rabbit down the hole and around the tree. We took turns doing this a couple of times. Then he suggested making it harder. I couldn't imagine how but I agreed to let him try. With one hand already secured to my waist, with the white T-shirt snugly pulled over my eyes, I stood in front of him wondering what he was going to do. He looped an end around my waist and tied my other hand, making it impossible for me to do anything with either hand. All of a sudden, I felt him tentatively touching the front of my pants. This could have been an accident at first, but when it became clear he was feeling me up I started to get hard. He rubbed up and down my fly and then fiddled with the tab of the zipper until he could slide it down with two fingers. Pushing the fly open with his fingers he found my cock and began to touch and rub my hardening member. Through the opening of my briefs he lightly touched the bare skin of my shaft, gently squeezing the circumcised glans. I was fully hard now and was completely in his power. I was up for whatever he wanted but was not going to force him into anything. While my penis was in his grasp I felt the unmistaken wetness of his mouth enclosing my cock. His tongue caressed the sensitive underside while his fingers squeezed the base to control the angle. I had been sucked before, but never with such skill. Having not jerked off since I got up that morning I was not long in coming. He dutifully held his mouth tight around my shaft as I pumped my ejaculate down his throat. He swallowed it all, murmuring his gratitude and satisfaction. I was afraid his foster mother would be coming back and told him I had to get going. It was some months before I got a chance to be alone with him again, sitting together on a log as our campfire died away. He told me that he learned to suck cock in the orphanage when he was about seven and had sex with other boys and one man in some of the foster homes he had lived in. I told him how I was even younger than him when my older brother took me into his bed and got me to suck him off. He asked if he could suck me again and I agreed on condition he let me suck him first. We pissed on the fading embers and went into the bushes where he gave me a sweet load of watery cum and I learned there was some truth to the rumor that black cocks are bigger.