But Marc didn’t hesitate to indulge himself in other ways, which his wife knew about. He had a weakness for “big boy toys”—cars, certainly, and gadgets. He had a taste for music. Just as he regularly traded in his car for a newer model, he upgraded his stereo equipment every few years.
He’d purchased a new system from a shop which offered full service. They’d deliver the equipment, and set it up. By coincidence, Marc had arranged the delivery for the weekend Ghislaine was in Paris.
And so, on that Saturday morning, he was still in a mellow mood after his hot Friday night session with Dimitri. He’d disconnected his old components, removed them from the bookshelves in the living room, and stowed them away in a closet. He hadn’t made any specific plans for them. He could keep them as a backup, sell them, or give them away.
When he heard a vehicle pull into the driveway, he glanced out a window to investigate. It was a van, with the stereo shop’s name and logo on its side. Marc went to open the door.
A huge young black man with bulging muscles, which were displayed to excellent advantage in the snug-fitting blue jumpsuit he wore, stood there, with a clipboard in one hand and his other hand extended toward the doorbell. Marc had forestalled him by opening the door before the guy had a chance to touch the bell.
“Monsieur Remy?”
“That’s me.”
“I have a delivery and setup for you.”
“Yes, I’m expecting that.”
As he spoke, Marc couldn’t help staring at the other man. He’d expected the shop to send on this errand—well, some sort of a stereo geek. Instead, this hulking number looked as though he was on his way to a bodybuilding competition!
He had a dark mahogany complexion, and he was handsome, with high, prominent cheekbones, full, round lips, and beautiful black eyes. His hair was cropped short, close to his scalp. In addition to the jumpsuit, he wore work boots on his feet. Marc found himself speculating what undergarments, if any, were underneath the jumpsuit. It was unzipped part of the way down the front, far enough to expose the twin swells of the guy’s pectoral muscles and the deep narrow groove between them.
The young black man seemed to be waiting for Marc to say something, and when Marc continued to look at him in silence, he finally asked, “Is something wrong?”
“No. But I ordered stereo components—not a personal trainer,” Marc joked. He realized, belatedly, that the other guy might be suspecting him of thinly veiled racism. Some of Marc’s neighbors might not be too happy to find a black man on their doorstep, whatever his errand. But Marc wasn’t one of them. And so he hastened to reassure his visitor. “Forgive me for staring. I didn’t mean to be rude. You took me by surprise, because to be perfectly frank, I wasn’t expecting anybody so large. That’s quite some build you’ve got there. Most impressive.”
The black stud relaxed.
“Thanks,” he said. “Some of the boxes can be kind of big and heavy. I’ll start hauling them inside.”
“Can I help?”
“No, it’s my job. I’ve got a two-wheeler to stack them on. It won’t take long. You might prop this door open, if there’s any way to do that.”
“No problem.”
The delivery man was efficient. Soon Marc had several large corrugated-cardboard cartons set on his living room floor, along with a tool box and another box containing a spool of heavy-gauge speaker cable.
The black guy took out a box cutter and, with great care, he began to slit open one of the cartons.
“This won’t take long,” he promised. “We’ll have you up and running in a jiffy.”
“Take your time. Say—I was about to make myself some coffee. Would you like some?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
Marc busied himself in the kitchen. When he returned to the living room, carrying the coffee things on a tray, he saw that the cartons were already unpacked, and the gleaming steel-gray components, along with a pair of oversized speakers, were ready to be put in place.
“I assume you want these things here?” the delivery man asked, indicating the empty spaces on the shelf.
“Yes, please. But have your coffee, first. How do you take it?”
“Black, of course. How else?”
“Ah—here you go.” Somewhat at a loss for words, Marc handed the guy one of the filled mugs.
“Thanks. This is a nice neighborhood. A nice old house. I suppose you don’t have many of my kind, living around here?”
“Your kind?”
“North Africans,” the black man specified. “My grandparents were immigrants. Which means I’m the third generation, living here in Marseille.”
“You and a lot of others. Which also means you’re every bit as French as I am.”
“Thanks for saying that. When you first opened the door and saw me—”
“Oh.” Marc was flustered. “You got the wrong idea?”
“Maybe. I thought you were taken aback, finding a black dude on your doorstep. As I go about my business—some people are. I’ve even had them refuse to open the door.”
“You were mistaken, I assure you,” Marc insisted. “Truly, I didn’t mean to be rude. I wasn’t staring at you because of your skin color. I was staring at you—ah—”
“Yes?”
“Because you’re such a good-looking man. If I may say so without offense.”
“Oh, no offense taken. On the contrary. I’d much rather be admired and flattered, than have somebody look scared at the sight of me, as though I was about to mug him. This is really good coffee, by the way.”
“I’m glad you like it. What’s your name, by the way?”
“Albert.”
“And I’m Marc.”
“Yeah, I know. It says so on the work order. I’ll have a refill, if you don’t mind. And then I’ll get back to work, while I drink it.”
“Coming right up.”
In response to Albert’s inquiry, Marc showed him how he wanted the components to be lined up on the shelf. Next, Albert put the speakers on the shelf. From the spool, he cut two pieces of speaker cable of the appropriate length, and he began to strip the wires at the ends and attach banana plugs to them.
Marc observed this process. “I suppose I could do that myself, if I was mechanically inclined, and not all thumbs,” he commented, ruefully.
Albert laughed. “I’m a specialist. So why not let a professional do it for you? Trust me—when I’m done, you’ll have a really tight connection. Which can make a big difference, in a sound system. That’s a nice wedding ring you have on,” he added.
This sudden change of topic caught Marc off guard. “Thanks. I like it. And I see you’re wearing one, too.”
“Where’s your other half, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“She’s in Paris this weekend. Visiting friends—and buying clothes.”
“Spending your money?” Albert guessed.
“Right and left, no doubt.”
Albert nodded. “I can relate. They tend to be high maintenance, don’t they?”
“Very.”
“Your wife doesn’t mind you blowing so much money on this equipment?”
“She doesn’t have any say in the matter,” Marc bragged.
“Good for you. So … she’s left you all on your own, this weekend?”
“Until tomorrow evening, yes.”
“Well, at least you’ll be able to play some music, to entertain yourself. In fact, you’re all plugged in, and ready to go. If you’ve got a CD handy, we can check it out. And then we can see what your radio reception is like.”
Marc went to the shelf where his CDs were stored, lined up in a long row. He selected one, more or less at random—a recording of Mahler’s Fifth Symphony.
“This has some sections that are good and loud,” he said, as he handed the plastic jewel case to Albert.
“Oh, do you like classical music?”
“I like a lot of different kinds of music, but, yes, sometimes I’m in the mood for the heavy, se
rious stuff.”
“Me, too.” Albert loaded the disc into the player, and then he handed Marc the remote control. “Do the honors,” he invited. “You’ve got fresh batteries in there.”
Marc pressed the play button on the remote, and a moment later the room was filled with brassy fanfares, emerging from the two wide-spaced new speakers.
“Wow,” Marc exclaimed. “Impressive.”
“Turn up the volume a notch,” Albert suggested. “Let’s make sure there isn’t any distortion, at high levels. Yeah … that sounds nice and clean … and you’ve got plenty of bass.”
Marc tested the receiver’s radio reception. Then, after pronouncing himself satisfied, he switched back to the CD.
Albert retrieved his clipboard. “Then, if you’re all set—if you’ll just sign here—I’ll be on my way. Here’s your warranty, and your instruction manual. I’ll haul away the boxes and the packing material, if you want me to. That’s all part of the service.”
“Must you rush off?” Marc asked, as he signed his name.
“Well—technically, I’m on my lunch hour, now. And then I have another delivery to make. Why? Is there something else I can do for you?”
“I can think of one or two things,” Marc said, suggestively. “I hate to see you go. I’ve enjoyed your company. And I can’t help thinking I’m getting a certain vibe from you.”
“Isn’t that interesting? Because, all this time, I’ve been getting a certain vibe from you.”
“I wonder, Albert, what else we might have in common. Besides our interest in music.”
“I’m on the down low,” Albert admitted, bluntly. “Are you?”
“Yes.”
“I thought so. Do you like black dick?”
“I like all kinds of dick.”
“So do I, but I have to admit—hot white dudes really turn me on. And you are one hell of a hot white dude!”
“That’s good to hear. If you’ve got an hour to kill—how’d you like to do some coke, and then play around a little?”
“I’d like that just fine.”
“Wait here. I’ll get my stash.”
Marc went into his office and opened the wall safe. He took out a vial of high-grade cocaine, a small mirror, a short metal straw, and a razor blade. Returning to the living room, he set the items out on the coffee table.
“You’re quite the accommodating host,” Albert remarked, as he watched Marc arrange the lines of coke on the surface of the mirror.
“I try to be. I can’t think of a better way to spend a Saturday afternoon—getting high, listening to good music, and getting laid,” Marc declared, salaciously. “Go on, be my guest. Take a snort. It’s good stuff.”
Albert snorted the coke, and then he handed the straw to Marc, who took a hit himself.
“Aw, hell,” Albert exclaimed. “This is some really good shit!”
“Take some more,” Marc invited him.
“I’m going to have to drive, afterward,” Albert protested. “And install some other guy’s new stereo system! I can’t be stoned, when I do that.”
“Oh, you’ll be all right,” Marc said, recklessly. “You can probably drive, and install components, in your sleep. Right now, though, I want you to be wide awake … yeah, wide awake, and horny. Come on. Let’s take this into my bedroom.”
He took Albert by the hand and half-led, half-dragged him into the bedroom. There, the Mahler symphony was still audible, coming from the living room.
“Music to Fuck By,” Marc joked. “Let’s get undressed. I want to see you naked. I want to touch you—!”
Quickly, eagerly, the two men stripped.
“Fuck! Look at you,” Albert said, staring at Marc’s nude body. “You are one goddamn pretty white man.”
“And you’re magnificent. Black and beautiful,” Marc told him. “And what a physique! I want you—so bad—come here—!” Climbing onto the bed, Marc spread his arms and legs wide, offering himself to the other man. His cock rose from his groin, pointing itself at the ceiling. “Yeah—oh, yeah!” Marc gloated, when Albert joined him on the bed.
The drug was having its inevitable effect upon both men, neither of whom was particularly inhibited even when cold sober.
“Before we get too carried away—I want you to understand I’m not gay,” Albert insisted.
“Of course not.”
“I just need some dick, every now and then.”
“I understand completely. Help yourself to my dick, if you think it’ll do you any good.”
“Shit,” Albert moaned. “I can’t help it—I’ve got to have it!”
Quickly, Albert wriggled his way on top of Marc’s reclining body, pushing himself down between Marc’s open legs. Marc relaxed, enjoying the sensation of having another man make love to him, rather than taking the more aggressive role himself. Albert, he could tell, was getting very excited because of the coke, and Marc could feel the big black stud’s cock pressing hard against his own stiffening penis. Albert’s hands were running over Marc’s body, over his arms and chest, sliding down to caress the flat, firm plateau of his stomach.
“Nice abs,” Albert breathed, in a husky voice. “You’ve got one hell of a beautiful body, man. It’s firm and hard. And I like my men to be firm and hard. Everywhere.” All the while, Albert’s dark hands continued to explore Marc’s paler flesh, and he pressed down on the white man’s body with his own, jabbing at Marc’s groin with his own solid cock.
Marc grunted, and closed his eyes, sinking back into the mattress. Warm lips brushed over his naked chest, hungrily sucking at his nipples until they hardened into twin points of rigid tit flesh. Then the mouth roamed down to Marc’s navel, into which an agile, and very wet and slippery tongue, was inserted.
Marc raised his behind from the bed to cooperate when the busy hands cupped both of his buttocks and hefted his crotch higher, pulling it against Albert’s chest and throat as the big man licked him. Albert had a magnificently proportioned body, the flesh softly rounded over the steely muscles, and he also possessed a long, thick prick, which now stuck up stiffly from its surrounding wreath of sparse, coarse pubic hair. With his eyes still closed, Marc enjoyed the feel of the other man’s body, rubbing restlessly against his own.
“Firm and hard, everywhere,” Albert repeated. “Especially here—!”
Lying perfectly still for the time being, Marc opened his drugged eyelids halfway and watched his husky black sex partner bend over and apply his wet mouth to his dick. Albert flexed his muscles and emitted a moan of lust, his insistently sucking lips stimulating Marc’s long, limp prickshaft into sudden, complete rigidity. His oral efforts coaxed a clear drop of pre-cum from the puckered piss slit in the quivering glans, a drop which Albert eagerly lapped up. With a muffled cry of passion, Albert squeezed Marc’s buttocks, and the white man responded by once again pushing his body up from the bed. Then Albert really went to work, sucking the wet, swollen knob of Marc’s cock, running his tongue rapidly up and down the length of pulsating fuck rod.
He made a complete meal of, burying his face in Marc’s pubic hair, darting his tantalizing tongue underneath Marc’s large, heavy scrotum, savoring to the full the smell and taste of Marc’s crotch.
Finally, though, Albert wrenched his face away.
“Fucked,” he gasped. “I want to get fucked!”
“I’ll fuck you,” Marc promised.
“Then get a rubber on that thing of yours, and shove it in me, quick. I’ll sit on it.”
Hastily, Marc put a condom on his cock, and then he coated the latex with a slippery coating of lube. Lying flat on his back on the bed, he grabbed the two pillows from the head of it and stuffed them, one on top of the other, under his head and shoulders, to raise them from the mattress.
Albert squatted over Marc’s groin. Reaching down and catching hold of Marc’s hotly aroused cock, Albert stuffed it between his exceptionally hard-muscled buttocks, pushing the slippery, latex-protected cock knob against the rim of his ass
hole. For a moment, he carefully adjusted his position, flexing his knees, and he rotated his bottom so that the lubricated tip of Marc’s erection rubbed against his tiny, puckered anal orifice. Then, grabbing hold of both of his own butt cheeks, Albert pulled them wide apart, and—letting out a strangulated cry of satisfaction—he sank down on the other man’s huge, vibrating tool.
“All the way,” he demanded. “Shove it all the way up into me, man! Yeah, that’s right. Let me sit on it, motherfucker. Let me ride it. You just lie there, buddy. I’ll do all the work!”
Marc, closing his eyes again in ecstasy, knew that his cock was about to be coaxed to ejaculation and drained of its load by the black stallion’s tight, hot, gripping asshole. Albert continued to ride Marc’s cock. As he pushed his butch ass up and down on Marc’s hard, close-to-bursting prick, both men shuddered in involuntary lustful response.
“Plow me, white boy,” Albert urged.
“Oh, you’re got a really hot ass!” Marc moaned.
“Glad you like it. Fuck it! Fuck it, baby. Fuck it hard, and fuck it deep.”
“Close,” Marc warned, in a throaty whisper. “I’m really getting close!” As his climax was brought nearer by each downward plunge of the other man’s rear end, he began to moan, incoherently.
“Don’t move. Let me do all the work. Let me ride it, Aw, fuck!” Albert exulted. “That thing of yours is really going in deep. Just the way I like it!”
Then, Albert, horny and stoned, fell silent, lost in his own sensations. Thrilled by the feeling of the long, thick cock stuck up into his rectum, and by the sight of Marc’s pale, muscular, naked body writhing under him on the bed, the black guy furiously masturbated himself while he plunged his butt up and down, the fleshy spheres of his ass cheeks clenched tightly around Marc’s potent cock.
“My dick feels like it’s about to explode,” Albert reported. “I can’t hold it back.”
“Don’t try to hold it back. Go ahead and come. And when you do, spray your goddamn load all over me,” Marc invited the other man. “Let me have it all. Wet me down with it.”
“You’re a dirty fuck, aren’t you?”
“Oh, you have no idea!”
“Shit!”
His Secret Sins Page 3