by A2daB
Ok, so Charlie Canfield’s Nigerian lover liked to play jokes.
He liked to tell Charlie his stepfather was coming to pick him up. Understand that Charlie’s stepfather is not a nice man. He yells at Charlie and everyone for everything, he lies about people to make them look bad (and himself look good), and he even castigated Charlie for being homosexual and involved in a relationship with a black African. He's very verbally abusive and it had gotten to the point where Charlie pretty much had as minimal contact with him as possible.
Twenty-five-year-old Akintunde Abubakar (Charlie’s boyfriend) had a favorite prank. It was telling his young lover that his stepfather had called and was on his way to pick him up … to take him to family gatherings, which Charlie usually avoided going to if his stepdad was there. And two hours in the car with him? That's literally hell. So, a couple weeks ago, Akintunde lied and told young Charlie that his stepfather called and was going to pick him up for his eighteenth birthday. Immediately Charlie claimed to feel like he was having a panic attack. He started crying, hyperventilating … he even began pacing back and forth trying to figure some way out of it. Visiting his stepdad is just that bad.
Then Charlie Canfield did something he never expected no matter how much panic he was in. He fainted. Just collapsed unconscious to the floor like a puppet that he his strings cut.
A surprised (and slightly guilty) Akintunde gazed lovingly down at the out cold Charlie, the British boy’s bare soles front and center. The smooth skin of his soles was held taut over the arches, the faint blue lines of his veins hidden underneath--the sweaty fragrance combined with the lines and folds of the soles captivated the Nigerian prankster… as did the soft pinkish white flush coloring, fading into paler shades on the arches. Even the gray-eyed lad’s heels seemed perfectly maintained with a silky-smooth appearance to the skin.
Akintunde carried the handsome young Englishmen to his bedroom and laid him out, on his tummy, across the bed. There he intended to use his senseless lover for pleasure. With his enormous thick, black hands, that made Charlie think of bear paws, Akintunde undressed the British boy as tenderly and gently as if his boyfriend were his beloved son. Charlie Canfield was an INCREDIBLY good-looking eighteen-year-old piece. But he was short. Maybe five nine with slender musculature. This gray-eyed British lad was built like a dedicated swimmer… which he was. His hair was mink brown, and he had an astoundingly attractive clean-shaven face--angular, but fresh and young.
The Nigerian stood over the now naked, unconscious eighteen-year-old ... then gave the motionless lad a long, slow back-rub ... going all the way from the eighteen-year-old's shoulders to his fantastic bare feet. He let his hands roam and the boy ... even though he was still out cold ... seemed to respond to it. Charlie Canfield moaned and wiggled appreciatively even through his layers of panic-induced sleep. Akintunde stepped back and masturbated over the passed-out young man ... his lust quieted for the moment.
But only for a moment.
Eventually the Igbo African prankster concentrated on Charlie's bare feet for a bit. He licked the soles of the eighteen-year-old's tootsies, tasting the salinity of the forced march the British youth and the other Englishmen had been forced to endure and the natural sweaty-salty maleness.
Akintunde took each of the unconscious young student's toes into his mouth and gently sucked. He moved his tongue along the Englishman's calves and back down to his feet and toes. He watched as the cute British boy shifted in his sleep and noticing how well trimmed and neat his nails were done. The Nigerian’s gaze drifted to scrutinize how Charlie Canfield’s bare soles stretched and smoothed out the wrinkles.
The black prankster gradually drew his fingertips down the short length of Charlie’s toes, savoring the sensation of the smooth skin as he transitioned from the toes to the ball of his unconscious boyfriend’s foot. Akintunde’s fingers traced every outline along the way, each little crevice and fold, each little wrinkle, everything felt exquisite, soft and smooth, with a delicate friction.
Then the scent of Charlie’s feet became apparent to Akintunde.
There was this amazing sweat on the soft skin. For a while the Nigerian stayed there, panting gently, taking in the aroma and sight of the cute bare soles. He reached out with his right hand, once again the African’s black hands gently caressing and stroking the British Boy’s pale arch and soles. Charlie Canfield’s feet were so cute, and soft, and smelled so Amazing. Though his skin was as black as the Sahara at midnight, Akintunde ‘felt’ an actual blush flare across his cheeks as his left hand rummaged inside his own pants, cringing slightly as he felt the damp stickiness of pre-cum between his thighs. His boyfriend’s feet had turned him on that much!
He slowly brought his face forward turning slightly to allow his nose to slip to the insole of the barefoot he was about to sensually kiss. Then he brought his lips gently down on the ball of Charlie’s right foot, the velvet skin felt delightful against his full lips. For a moment he remained still, hungrily, passionately kissing the still unconscious lad’s cute sole, almost overwhelmed by the bliss exploding in his lust addled mind.
Akintunde plunged his nose up against Charlie’s sweet perfect toes, slipping between them, and taking another deep inhale of Charlie’s sweat. Akintunde’s fingers shamelessly pumped his own tool inside his pants as he slipped out his tongue and prepared to feast on the unconscious Anglo’s feet.
It started with a quick dart—pressing his tongue against the silky surface of Charlie sole, followed by another, and another, then a longer drag of his tongue, lapping against the soft sole. The skin had felt amazing under his fingers and lips, but it was a whole new level as Akintunde swiped with his tongue. It was overwhelming, Akintunde was in an almost delirious state, the taste of Charlie soles were always like nothing he had experienced before he’d met this shy, handsome gray-eyed student.
The African prankster sucked each and every one of the unconscious boy’s toes on one foot, his tongue ravenously darting between each delectable digit, cleansing them of sweat and anything else. Eventually he pulled away, switching to Charlie’s other foot which was just as incredible as the first. Akintunde rolled the limp, passed-out Charlie onto his side so that his gray-eyed boyfriend's cock and balls lay before him as well ... and soon the black prankster slipped from under Charlie's smooth saliva-slicked bare feet and knelt over him, taking the lad's soft pink cock into his hot mouth.
The Igbo African prankster sucked deliriously. He even unloosed his own huge cock from his pants as he did so and continued his deep sucking of the unconscious Englishman's flaccid meat. It wasn't long before Akintunde began to twitch and tighten — ready to cum. He sucked the passed-out Charlie deep as he shot his own hot load across the mattress.
Once the youth regained consciousness, Akintunde demanded that the handsome young Englishman stand, turn around, bend over and grab his ankles. Quaking almost uncontrollably, the VERY confused Charlie complied, bending over and thrusting his butt up towards Akintunde.
Stepping in behind the gray-eyed youth, running his large hands over those creamy, welt-covered buns and down along those smooth thighs, The Igbo African prankster grasped hold of the student's balls with his clenched black fist and bore down hard on them. Shrieking in agony, the Englishman danced about as if being electrocuted, but Akintunde held him firm.
"There orbs are mine, do you understand, Charlie Canfield?" Akintunde said in his very deep Orlu-accented voice.
Rising up onto his saliva-coated bare toes, the British boy shrieked, his gray eyes wide,
"Yes! Yes!"
Still mashing the gray-eyed youth's nuts hard, the African sparred with his boyfriend's mind,
"Yes WHAT, boy?"
In between his shrieks of agony, the Englishman cried,
"Yes, my ball ... I mean my ORBS belongs to you!"
Releasing the eighteen-year-old's balls, Akintunde splayed open those firm buttocks of the Englishman's and jabbed a thick finger roughly up inside the eighteen-year-old's tight, puckered asshole. And within a few seconds, he had twisted the young man's balls up in knots, sending the poor British lad thrashing about in unimaginable torment as he yelped for his lover to stop.
But Akintunde Abubakar was reveling in his helpless victims' agony, his huge, throbbing penis betraying his relish for the suffering he was inflicting. It was as if the young he man wasn't even human to him.
He was winding the youth's nuts up like some mechanical toy that existed only to gratify his sadistic perversions. The very same sadistic perversions that Charlie absolutely LOVED, make no mistake! He let go of the youth's nuts only long enough to grab his rhino-hide whip.
Charlie Canfield heard a sharp whistle and then a streak of pure fire landed across his butt. Unprepared for this new kind of assault, the Englishman screamed. Clamping his teeth down on his lip to stifle any further outbursts. He heard another whistle, and another blazing stripe was laid across his tender back. He had not had time to fully recover from Akintunde's ball-crushing torture. The pleasure-mixed-with-pain that truly cemented their relationship.
The African prankster lashed the strap down from right to left, then backhanded right to left, then reversed the stripe once more. He was becoming even more aroused from watching his boyfriend, now glistening with sweat and tears, bucking and crying out in pain.
The black Igbo prankster laid his hand on the scorched flesh of the trembling British boy in front of him. He was really enjoying this but if he continued much longer, the young Englishman would pass out and he did not want that to happen just yet.
Akintunde looked down at the distraught eighteen-year-old, straining to remain conscious. His once flawless backside was now covered with angry red welts. An angry bright redness could be seen where the stripes overlapped each other, but he wasn’t bleeding.
Charlie felt the rough fingers leave him and something larger and harder enter him in one agonizing stroke. He screamed as darkness closed in on all sides. Akintunde held very still, his rod buried in the hot depths of the ALMOST unwilling young British student. When he noticed that the boy had fainted, he cursed, yanked his dick from the Englishman's hole and stood up.
He then let loose with a thick stream of hot piss, directing it down so it splashed between the he youth's gaping buttocks. Steadily, he guided his flow up across the small of the Englishman's back and on upwards across those broad lash-striped shoulders until he was drenching the handsome British youth's, neatly trimmed mink-colored hair.
From the African sunlight coursing through the window, Akintunde could see his now horrified prisoner's hair matting into a sticky plastered mess down the back of his slender neck. This roused the handsome youth back into consciousness.
Whimpering and moaning, obviously disgusted at being used in such a manner, the lad tried to get out of piss-stream's path, but the Igbo prankster followed him as he crawled about, eventually rolling the he eighteen-year-old over onto his back with a sturdy boot kick, watching the terrified Anglo Brit writhe around like a dog.
The Igbo prankster concluded this humiliating act by flooding the British lad’s pale face with his golden piss.
With droplets of piss clinging to his eyebrows and lashes, thin trickles running over his thin lips and off his chin, the now thoroughly humiliated Englishman lay twitching on the ground, whimpering and pleading for a respite from his tortures.
Akintunde stepped in between his weary boyfriend’s splayed thighs to place a booted foot on the boy's crotch, applying ever so slight a pressure to his horrified boyfriend's nuts as he crushed them around under its sole ... while sternly ordering the moaning, pleading boy to roll over onto his hands and knees.
When the befuddled British youth didn't respond fast enough to the order, The black prankster dropped his foot swiftly back and snapped it — popping the British youth sharply in his balls, forcing a pained howl from the Anglo lad. A second kick caused Charlie to lose consciousness.
The British boy eventually awoke to sound of Akintunde laughing at him. Charlie screamed that it wasn’t funny. His lover knew how he felt about the man who’d married his half-wit mother. Then Akintunde, still laughing his black arse off, said that he’d only been joking and that his stepdad was NOT on the way.
While Charlie nearly wept with relief, the jovial Nigerian said, "Happy Birthday, Charlie Canfield! Are you not feeling better now that you know that your Stepfather is not actually coming?"
