BlkFagHole @blkfaghole1 - Tumblr Blog

Godfrey on Sexuality: “…Eating and sex are in the same part of the brain…It’s in that same area. Some people will put jelly on their fucking eggs, which I think is disgusting. Some people eat weird. Like what the fuck are you eating? I think it’s like sex.”

tearoom-m2m

Ok, online picture/video whores, time for substance.

While the older guys had access to super 8 videos and VHS tapes, for most of us boys growing up in the 1970s and 80s, confirmation of our sexual orientation and interests came from books and magazines. If you were like me, we made a pilgrimage to the gay section of the public library every chance we could, and *POW* what happened when we found a really hot book. One unlikely source of HOT, I say H-O-T jack-off material was a too-little book called “Tearoom Trade: A study of homosexual encounters in public places”.

Tearoom Trade was written by PhD student, Laud Humphreys.

Beyond patron saint Humphreys’ Tearoom Trade, there is a book about Humphreys life and work itself. The book is called “Laud Humphreys: Prophet of Homosexuality and Sociology”.

blkfaghole1

Farmer Lust

An XXX story by Blkfaghole1 (http://www.blkfaghole1.tumblr.com)

It was going to be a sweltering Pasco summer. It was only late April and the temperatures had already reached near 90 degrees. Tito stood at the front entrance of the vineyard and looked out over the irrigation system covering the crops. A thick wash of sweat covering his body, the bronze ridges and valleys of his shoulders and biceps, and his mounded chest exuded sex. He was in better shape now, at 36 than when he was 21, and that wasn’t just physical shape.

He rubbed his hands through his black hair as he basked in his new co-ownership of the Buena Vista Orchard. Tito had worked his way up the ladder and knew the business inside and out.

—————–

I was already 25 when I applied for work. I had flunked out of high school and couldn’t get any work outside of McDonald’s, Taco Bell, Wendy’s, you know - the greasy spoons - or in janitor work. I liked janitor work best when I didn’t have an asshole for a supervisor. Just let me do my job and leave me alone - I get things done. But I needed a change of place. Seattle was the only thing I knew ever since I stepped off the Greyhound bus from Chicago.

But I was a black guy in the middle of a sea of whites and Latinos. I was fucking scared. You couldn’t tell though cause I put up a front. I didn’t even have a place to sleep when I took yet another Greyhound bus over the mountains to Washington’s arid farming basin.

“I’m looking for work,” was what I said, looking at a white man about the age of 48 or so. “I don’t have no place to stay, but I need a job.” Mr. Graham didn’t look excited about me. “He’s prejudiced…” I thought. “He’s not going to hire me cause I’m black.”

Tito and another worker entered the office at that time.

“Pardon us Mr. Graham.” he said, his thick Latin accent caressing and molding every vowel. He asked Mr. Graham for an opinion about something they were doing in the vineyard then continued. “Is this a new worker?” he asked, acknowledging my presence. I could see that Mr. Graham was uncomfortable having to answer Tito’s inquiry.

It seemed like years now, but it was just months ago. When Tito learned that I was from the East Coast by way of Seattle and down on my luck, he offered to share his dorm room with me till I had enough money to get my own. Mr. Graham and his father had built small migrant worker dorms on the property for the single workers. Those who were married and had children got more pay so that they could live in town near the schools.

One night shortly after my arrival, Tito and some of the other workers were going to town for some drinking and partying. I didn’t know what to expect. The place was almost all farm hands, mostly Latino, but some white people too. I was the only black person. I got looked at funny but I stayed close to Tito and the others and didn’t pay back the funny looks with my own.

I just kept quiet, drank my beers and watched Tito and the boys drinking, and shooting the shit.

Nobody knew that I had been sexual with guys before but I was sure feeling the urge to do something I might regret later. I was able to contain myself and just watch the Latin television programs on the TV screens and watch Tito and the gang.

“Tito, you guys probably shouldn’t drink so much. Who’s going to drive us back home?” I asked. He had already downed two drinks. “That’s all I’m drinking.” he answered.

Some of the guys occasionally would get a Latina talking, then get her dancing then disappear for some time. I knew they were getting head or pussy.

Tito seemed like he was more discrete, like he was lining up the action for later or something. He just flirted with the ladies and joked around with the guys. He was smooth, and I knew that he was a born leader.

—————–

I took very late-night showers, going to bed earlier than the others so I could wake up later after they had showered and gone to bed. There, in the showers, I would jack off and finger my ass, dreaming about being a black woman for Tito or another Latino man. I had some straight porn magazines and I loved looking at the big wet pussies open for the guys and the guys getting off in the big holes.

Over time I was using more and more fingers to give me that thrill of being a black woman to a Latino man.

It was bound to happen. My fuck sessions were nightly, same time, same station. Someone was going to get curious, somebody’s schedule would be different and our paths would cross.

I didn’t realize it though. The person was as quiet as a mouse and sly as a fox. I was being watched and enjoyed repeatedly without my knowledge. A guy was jacking off to me, whispering the most forbidden desires to me and I never knew it, not right away.

But I remember the first note I got. The handwriting looked anxious. Was the writer scribbling down his passionate message with one hand, while jacking off with the other? I would later find out.

The writer advised that I should continue with my activities each night. I was worried that this person was setting me up for blackmail, or to expose me among the other workers or even Mr. Graham. I could lose the job! I wanted to write the person back, but didn’t know who to write. Each day I tried to sense who the secret admirer or potential blackmailer might be, but I wasn’t getting anywhere. No one seemed to know a thing, or they were damned good at hiding it.

I then devised a plan.

—————–

I went to the showers as usual and started my routine - wetting down, lathering all over, then working my dick, then going for my ass. I got to the two-finger fuck, probed around for a little then quickly began rinsing off. Normally I was advancing to the four-finger fuck, bending over, squatting and all that, but I did none of that. I dried off quickly, but quietly. I didn’t hear anyone moving. I quickly darted to look down the hall of the dorm but there was no one. I looked in the bathroom but no one was there either.

Just then I heard the rustling branches outside the window. When I looked I could see no one.

Back in the room I tried to think of my next move when a note was slid under my door. I heard someone walk-running away down the hall. I raced and opened the door, whispering for them to wait and come back. I bit my lip, almost ready to cry. Someone was admiring me, and I wanted to meet him, to take care of him in any way he wanted, but he wouldn’t let me.

I picked up the note, closed the door and sat on the bed. I started to read the note, then put it on the nightstand. I went to the dresser, and got the lube bottle I’d bought at the adult store in town. I got back on the bed, opened the note but being careful not to look at what my admirer had written.

I pulled my pajama bottoms down opened my legs and fingered lube onto my hole. Touching my dark hole sent shivers down my spine and my dick rocketed up bone-hard. I pulled on my dick and inserted two fingers up into myself, only then did look at the note.

The message was sordid: “Why do you want to catch me? Stop. Just do yourself for me, baby.” and ended with “I love you.” There was lots of scratched out text. I kept reading the note over and over, and fingering myself harder and harder. But after a while I stopped myself. I put back on my pajama bottoms, a robe and then grabbed my keys. I was going to Tito’s room.

I knocked on the door but there was no reply. He was probably asleep. I walked back to my room and wrote my own note: “Are you my admirer?” then returned to slide it under his door. I waited for him to get up and read it. He did, and I waited by the door some more. I heard some shuffling around in the room then his door opened.

Tito looked like he had seen a ghost when he saw me standing there. My calm and suave Don Juan was not prepared for me, but his skills quickly kicked in.

“Damn, dude, you scared me! Is there a problem tonight?” he asked. I answered with my own question. “Can I talk with you, in your room, please?”

Something in me knew that Tito was my admirer. He was not going to deny me the chance to confirm this and take care of him.

He started to say “No” that he didn’t want to talk with me in his room, but I put on my best sad helpless pussy-boy face and just melted him in his tracks. Tito was a born leader and a real man, but I was a born honey. The ancient animal instincts took over. The power of the look and the smell of desire united us.

“Tito I’ve been getting notes from someone…” I began. Somewhere in the recitation of my story I found myself on his bed with him standing by his dresser.

“I’m sorry, Tito” I said, apologizing and scurrying off of his bed. I could see the half hard-on under his robe. He had good mind-power to control it but I was about to be a bad boy.

“Tito, please. I think I’m going to go crazy. I need your help.”

“We will see who is writing the notes and have them stop…” he replied.

“No, I don’t want the notes to stop. I like the notes.” I said, getting closer to him by the dresser.

“Please don’t tell anyone!” I said. It was fairly easy to work up some tears in my state of urgency. “I want to be a pussy, a cunt, I dream about it all the time. When I go out with you guys, all I think about is being one of the women that you all have sex with.”

I had a feeling that Tito was probably bisexual but up to this night I never really thought that he was interested in me in that way.

I poured out all the things that I felt about him and the other Latin guys.

Tito’s dick sprang up, tenting out his robe, but not as far as I thought it would. Tito was a “hanger”, all 8 thick inches of him.

“Please, don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you. This is what I’m made for, it’s okay.” I said, freezing him from pushing me away.

I reached in the slit of his robe and spread it open. I was in heaven and hadn’t even died. I looked up at him and he was watching me.

—————–

On my knees and looking up at him I whispered, “I’ll be yours if you let me", and then took Tito’s thick Latin sausage into my black mouth.

I opened my mouth and swallowed his love meat down my throat. I gave myself to him, to belong to him.

“Get on the bed, on your knees” Tito ordered. I did as he directed. “That is a nice ass, boy” he said, just after slapping it. He shoved my knees wider apart with his own knees. “You are ready.” he said, noting the lube still slick on my hole. I felt him slide one then two fingers into me, and my ass backed up onto him.

I looked back at Tito and pleaded, “I need you, please!”

He ignored me and continued to play in my hole. He stuck in a finger from his other hand and then pulled my hole open, long-ways like the slit of a vagina. I moaned and arched my back, crouching my chest down on the mattress.

“Do not ask for what you are not ready to be.” he proclaimed. “To be a cunt you have to have a cunt.”

I looked back at Tito again and his eyes were serious as hell. He looked angry and on fire with animal lust.

“You are not like other black men, you are open like a woman.” he said.

“Yes, I am open like a woman!” I answered while wiggling my ass at him.

“You are here in Latino country to be woman for Latin man!” Tito chanted.

“Yes, ye—-s!” I replied, my ass and backdoor trying to get at Tit’s dick.

“You must be a woman to be Tito’s” Tito commanded. “Tito only likes good man-woman.”

“Tito, you know I’ll be your woman, I’ll be a good man-woman! That’s why I’m here! You know what I am, you know what I need. You KNOW it!

Tito began to boar his dick in me before my wish was silent on the air.

“Ah, uh, oh god!” I cried out.

“Take it! You asked to be my bitch… this is what you want!” Tito replied.

The inches seemed to go on forever. The yawning cavity that Tito had created with his fingers was being filled up to capacity with his business tool. He stroked slowly and softly like a masterful driller, cooing and caressing my hole to receiving him.

I moaned in a low guttural tone, spasmed and pushed myself back to take all that he wanted to pack into me. Tito kept his fingers in my hole, and kept pulling it open long-ways like a pussy, even as he slid deeper and deeper.

“You are good!” he complimented.

It felt like his dick was in my throat but somehow I was going to take everything he put in me. This was my chance to be all that I ever wanted to be.

“Oh yea! You’re my man Tito. You are helping me.” I praised.

Tito began to pull out and “dive” in and out of me, more rough as the fucking continued. Soon he took his fingers out of my hole, rested his hands on my back and began to long-dick me.

I was open and wet, not “tight” like lots of guys seem to like. All I wanted to do was stick my ass out more for him to fuck me forever. I needed him.

Tito didn’t mind big hole, in fact he was turned on.

“Just like a woman!” he said, pulling away from me but also rising above me so that his dick stretched both my insides and my ‘lips’. Tito was clearly enjoying himself as he repeated, “Just like a woman!”

But I was a guy, naked in his bed singing “Oh god, you feel so good in me! I’m your fucking woman Tito, I’m your fucking woman!” I was really begging now. I knew we couldn’t go on all night but I didn’t want it to end.

I reached for my hard dick and pulled on it a couple of times. I was ready to come at any moment. I put my head on the bed and hiked my ass higher in the air. My hole relaxed and Tito nearly fell in on the in-stroke. This superman I’d found actually liked that. He grabbed me by the shoulders and jammed himself deep in me, grinding deep and side-to-side.

“I’m going to come!” he warned. He yanked his dick out of my gaping black pussy; jacking off with one hand and putting the fingers of the other hand back up in me. My pink was in full view.

He came hard and long, panting and whimpering, while trying not to wake up any neighbors. I backed up hard onto his four fingers and jacked off. I came everywhere.

Tito pushed me down on the bed, on my back and fell on top of me. "You better not be playing with me. You better be my woman now.“ he warned. But he didn’t need to worry.

It has been six months now and most of the workers are back home in Mexico; but more and more of them stick around all year, so says Tito from the computer room of our own house. I guess this black ex-migrant worker is one of them.

blkfaghole1

Really appreciate you guys who like and rebloged “Farmers Lust”.

whitealphalover-deactivated2016

Fucking HOT🔥🔥🔥

blkfaghole1

Thanks! I’m happy that you like it!

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#Black Hole #blackhole #blackbottom #hairy #black bottom #outdoor #exhibitionist #exhib

I L.O.V.E U

We were there.

Streets of San Juan, Puerto Rico (by Markus).

freakingleft

What the world needs now.

intergaycial

“My name is Dave ( R ) from Tallahassee, Fl and my boyfriend ( L ) name is Josh from West Palm Beach, Fl. We met August 12, 2014 in #JupiterFl and have been together just over two years. Our first date was at Dairy Queen in Jupiter for ice cream. I just so happened to be in the area on a business trip. I knew then that Josh was the one after our first date. We’ve been going strong ever since. Josh is an amazing guy and I’m so very blessed to call him my boyfriend!! ❤” What an inspiring story guys! Thanks for sharing the love! #intergaycial #interracial #gaycouple #interracialgay #gayinterracial

m4mplayhouse

HUMAN RIGHTS ARE NOT OPTIONAL

fuckyeahgaycouples

Me + bae on our recent anniversary trip to Rio de Janeiro 💕

intergaycial

“Hi, my partner Kyle (left) and I have been together for 4 months now. He lives in Albany, NY and I live in Hartford, CT. Although it’s been a short time, we fell for each other from day one. We visit each other frequently and plan on living together in the near future 😄 thanks for having us on your page!” You guys look adorable! Welcome to the #intergaycial family!

gifnews

Meet Bayard Rustin

pollyguo

‘Mr. Randolph [who was president of the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters and president of the A. Philip Randolph Institute] took the view that it was important for him to have me. Mr. Randolph was finally made director of the march. “But I want to warn you before you vote that if I’m made leader, I’m going to be given the privilege of determining my staff,” he said. “I also want you to know I’ll make Bayard Rustin my deputy.” He turned to Martin and said: “Dr. King, how do you vote?” And Dr. King said: “I vote yes.” He turned to Jim Farmer. Jim Farmer said: “I vote yes.” Then he turned to Roy Wilkins. Roy said: “Phil, you’ve got me over a barrel, I’ll go along with you.” So, it was never a prejudicial situation; it was that given the attitude at that time, people felt this was a problem.’ - Bayard Rustin [an interview conducted by Redvers Jeanmarie, March 1987]

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