Juneteenth

By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

Grandma was sitting on the couch when I came out of my bedroom Saturday at nearly ten thirty in the morning. "There you are, sleepy-head!" she said. "Come give your grandma a great, big hug!" Her wide, dark face beamed a row of (fake) teeth in my direction, she was wearing a dark purple flowered dress and she was darker than that dark purple.

Grandma had that "great big" thing down pat. She weighed about 300 pounds at a guess, and when she sat on our couch, which was built for three, it turned into a seat for two. She couldn't get up (or at least, not very fast), so I walked over and leaned down and she reached two arms heavy with underarm wattle up and wrapped them around my bare back. I put my hands to her sides (carefully avoiding her rather huge bosom, something of a feat) and she pressed her meaty face against mine. Don't let any of this make you think I don't love my Grandma, folks! Just that's there's a lot of her to love!

"Oh, oh, oh-oh!" she said as she hugged me. "Land sake, but you've grown into a big one, haven't you?"

I grinned down at that. "Yes, Grandma."

"You get that from my grandfather, I bet." she said.

"Yeah?" I said. "How would you know?" I wasn't that up on my family history, but I do know that my grandmother's grandfather was an unknown person. Great-great grandma had raised great-grandfather on her own, he had grown up and had grandma, who'd had my mother who'd had me. That's how it all hung together.

"You ought to know that, on this day of all days."

"It's June 20th." I said. Juneteenth is June 19th, not 20th.

"But we're celebrating Juneteenth today." Grandma said. "The end of slavery." Because it was Saturday, close as we could get without missing a day of work.

"Yeah, in Texas." I said. "And back in 1864."

"1865." Grandma reminded me.

"Oh, yeah." I agreed. "So what does that have to do with Great-great-Grandpa? I didn't think you knew anything about him."

"You forget that my father was born in 1862." Grandma told me.

"Oh." I said.

"Yeah, oh." Grandma said. "My grandmother's owner decided that she was old enough to breed him another worker for his farm. So he called another slave-owner who sent over my grandfather, a fellow named Daniel, to perform the stud service."

"Grandma." I said. "Ewwww!"

"Didn't have no choice about it." Grandma went on. "She had to be with him. And they counted up her days just like they would one of their cows, figured she was ready to breed, and put your great-great-grandfather in with her and told him to have fun."

"Do I have to hear this?" I was getting properly disgusted here!

"It's your history, hon." she said. "And your heritage."

"Some heritage!"

"But look at you, honey!" Grandma went on. "Big, strong, handsome young fellow. Grandma always said that Grandpa was the biggest, strongest, handsomest man she'd ever seen." And Grandma cackled. "And she told me when I was your age that he gave her the best poking she'd ever had before or since!"

I blushed, I'm sure, because Grandma relented at that point, patted my cheek and said, "You'd better go get washed up and dressed. We're going to a barbecue in another couple of hours."

Grandma's funny that way, or maybe it's senility, she's close to eighty years old. One minute she can be thumping a Bible with the best of them, the next she's cracking off-color jokes. I stopped trying to figure her out long ago. I just love her and try to deal with her as I go along. Seems to work.

Grandma's comment did make me look at little closer at myself in the mirror. A full-length one Mom hung on the bathroom door. I'm six foot three, hundred and eighty pounds, and I am now trying to decide which of three colleges I want to attend. Any one of them, I get a full football scholarship. My only problem was to pick one where I could slip off to a gay bar or bath house now and then. But I had until the end of the month to settle in for certain.

Yeah, I could see it, now, what Grandma was talking about. If I was going to breed myself a stud, I'd pick myself.

And then I got the shudders. Yeesh! All these many generations and we still can't get past those generations of slavery. Even this holiday, Juneteenth. Celebrating the Emancipation Proclamation, when all slaves were set free in the Old South. For me, it had mostly been a great day for a barbecue and lots of good food. This was simply the first time I'd had the reason for it stuck in my face just that personally.

I got dressed in a tanktop, shorts and sneakers and went to the barbecue. A community event, there was a hell of a lot of people and a hell of a lot of food. All colors of black, and a fair number of whites, too. I didn't know if they were married to blacks, were getting themselves a cultural experience, or had a bit of the "tar brush" or what. But they were there. Music was thumping out, some rap and hip-hop, but mostly stuff for older folks. Some folks were dancing, but more were playing cards or dominos, and the greatest number of them were like my grandma, enthroned on a bench and sharing her stories of long ago, back when we were the property of other people.

That had been doing something to my head all fucking day. You know, it's one thing to know that your ancestors were slaves, another to have a name to go with it. My great-to-the-third-power Daniel. He'd had sex with my G-third grandmother because he'd been told to!

I looked around at the people. We weren't rich, hell, no! But when you compare that to what had happened to my G-3's...Criminy! We were lucky as hell!

"Excuse me." came a voice behind me. I looked behind me. And up slightly. Shit! Remember, I'm six foot three, I don't look "up" to people! This guy must have been six foot five or so! And he wasn't any basketball player, neither!

I'm a fairly deep brown color myself, about the color of milk chocolate, like you find on a candy bar like Snickers or Three Musketeers. This guy had more than a dip of the "whitewash brush", he had been fucking dipped in it! Think coffee with way too much cream in it. But my God, the build he had on him, I felt downright weak next to him! He had his shirt off and was wearing on a pair of blue jeans cut off just above the knees. Tight blue jeans, shit, he had a monster in there!

"Hey, there!" I said in return, when I realized I was staring.

He grinned, his wide, square face framing a set of perfect teeth. His eyes were deep black orbs that shone with the sun glinting overhead. "You having fun today?"

"Yeah, pretty much." I said, and stuck out my hand. "I'm Jaleel."

"I'm Duncan." he said and took my hand. Damn, he had a firm grip, I tried to match it without turning it into a contest.

After I shook his hand, I said, "I haven't seen you around here before. I've been to these parties for years. You just move in to the neighborhood?"

"No, I'm just staying here with some friends." he said.

"Really?" I said. "How long are you in town?"

"Rest of the summer." he said. "I got a job working on a construction over on Twelfth Street."

"Hey, the new bank they're putting up."

"Yeah." he said. "Uh, Jaleel?"

"I hear that's going to have three stories on it. You work up that high, aren't you afraid you'll fall?"

"Not really. Jaleel?"

"Yeah?"

"You're still holding onto my hand."

"Oh, I'm sorry!" I said, letting go. "I wasn't thinking."

"Sure you were." he said. "Just thinking about something else."

"Yeah, kind of." I said. "Sorry for hanging on like that."

"It's okay." Duncan said. "I didn't mind." Pause. "No, I didn't mind one bit."

"Oh." I said and my erection threatened to poke him on his leg! Not really, but I had a boner and a half in my shorts. I reached down to adjust it and his eyes looked down and watched me do it.

"Want me to guess what you were thinking of?" He teased me.

I grinned, lowered my head. I was sure I was blushing again. Yeah, black men can blush same as whites. It shows up as a darkening in our face, adds a sort of purple tinge instead of red. But it's just as obvious. "I guess not." I said, not spotting the pun or whatever that was.

"Want to guess what I'm thinking?" he said. My head was lowered and I didn't see it until it happened, his hand, a big, broad hand, landed on my shoulder. Once there, it squeezed my shoulder slightly, then roamed down over my arm.

"I don't think I have to guess." I said as his hand came back up.

"My car's over near the gas station." Duncan said. "And my friends left town for the weekend so I have the house to myself. It's only seven or eight blocks from here."

I looked up into his eyes again. "Let's go." I said.

It was a pretty nice house. Again, I found myself thinking about my ancestors, whose freedom we were celebrating today, they'd probably had their stud service in some shanty on a crude bed with a quilt made out of old rags or castoff clothes. I could see in Duncan what I'd seen myself in the mirror. A few centuries of selective breeding had been at work on us. It had turned me, turned Duncan, into two massive hulks of men. Like it or not, we had to live with that. Or got to live with it.

In Duncan's bedroom (I presume it was that, it was a bedroom), I turned and threw myself at him. He gave a brief "umph" as I landed, then his hands were around me as mine were around him, and we were kissing, and I had that lump in his shorts pushing against mine! Ah, shit, it was as big as I had thought. No wonder he wore shorts cut down near the knee, he needed that much room to keep his willy from sticking his head out and saying hello to people. It was saying "Hi there!" to me right now, and "Man am I happy to meet you!"

Duncan's tongue slipped into my mouth and I sucked on the thick meaty lump of man-flesh, God, it was soft and pink and tasted of beer and hot dogs and barbecue chicken, the remnants of his Juneteenth meal. Mine probably tasted the same to him. I didn't want to taste lunch, I wanted to taste him!

Time for me to say hello to Willy! I released his mouth and slid down, stopping to run my tongue over one distended black-toned nipple, incongruous on his fair-brown skin. Like his African ancestry was peering out through all that whitewash. I gave it a swirling wash and that only inflamed my desire to play a game of Free Willy! I dashed down his stomach, the hairs on his navel forming a trail I followed with my nose plowing through them like a dog running through daisies. That trail dead-ended at a fence of blue denim; his jeans, and there was the golden doorknob of the top of the fly, marking the gate. My hands came up and caught the fabric on either side of that circle of closure, and when I pulled them together, the circle slid out to the wider part of the buttonhole, then I could twist the jeans and the button released and was free. Below that was the interlocking treadwork of the zipper, but the key to that was in the lock near the top, I grabbed it and pulled it down with a z-z-z-z-z-z-zk! No underwear, only a thick black bush of black hair greeted me as I separated the cutoffs from their wearer.

Duncan's dong was down the left-hand trouser leg, I had to fish for it, but it was hard and felt so damned worth the effort.

"Uhhhhhh-ghhhh!" Duncan umphed as I tugged his engorged member from his shorts and brought it out for view.

"Ooooh, mannn!" I sighed as I saw his prong. God, what a thick, heavy dong, a solid ten inches long and it must have been four inches around; I wasn't sure I could fit this monster any deeper that the back of my mouth! I wondered if the slaveowners bred for cock size as well as body size. If I were (God help me!) figuring out what kind of man I'd want to use to breed new workers, I'd probably put that on the list of requirements. I remembered that the men who put my ancestors up on the auction blocks would require the man or woman to strip down bare. Look at them like so many pieces of meat. And if they wanted to take such a slave to bed with them, it was their choice. Not his choice...theirs alone.

We didn't have that anymore. Juneteenth had dealt with that much, at least. Or started to deal with it. Right after the war, being black in the South wasn't worth much. But the value of life had grown since then. Painfully slow growth, and God, still so far to go...but better.

I was here with Duncan because I wanted to be. Because he wanted me to be here. Nobody else involved, no other reason, no slaveowner telling us to bed each other.

And I was putting my lips upon Duncan's cock, and sliding my tongue under it, spreading my spit on it, slowing taking it in deeper and deeper, oh, God, it tasted so good! A nice sheen of male sweat covered it, not heavy, not nasty, just enough to deposit upon my mouth a dollop of Duncan's flavors in all their resplendent glory.

"Mmmmh, uhhhh, ahhhh!" Duncan moaned as my lips plied back and forth. The sheer size of his pud thwarted my desire to take him deeper than the back of my mouth as I had foreseen, but I had his precome spotting my tonsils and dabbing on more with every thrust downwards I made.

Duncan's hands caught my head on either side and his strength urged me into a faster motion, making me slip back and forth faster, faster now.

"Uuhhh, guhhh, ahhh, guhhh!" Duncan grunted.

"Muhh, uhhh, muh-uh!" I protested and he released me.

"What is it?" he panted, his broad chest heaving.

I wiped my lips with the back of my hand. "You're getting too worked up. Save some for the main event."

"Yeah! Sure!" he gasped.

"Let me just strip out of these clothes and we can take this to the bed." I said, pulling my t-shirt over my head. I kicked out of my sneakers pretty quick (I hadn't bothered with socks this morning), but before I could get my shorts off, Duncan seized me. With a growl, he threw me onto the bed and I found my shorts being peeled from me by main force. Skinning them over my legs, he tossed them onto the floor and said, "Now we're getting to it."

He climbed onto the bed, planting his broad thighs on either side of my head and his dong slapped my face as he bent over. His hand grabbed my cock and he stuffed it into his face. No finesse, just crammed it in and he worried about the spit when he got it in there!

"Ahh, uhhh, ahhh!" I cried out in the damnedest combination of pain and pleasure I'd ever had. It felt good, my dick in Duncan's mouth, but shit, he needed to lube it up first! "Ahh, uhh, guhh, uhhh!"

But that was the end of it, Duncan now had some spit worked up and the pain faded, leaving only the joy behind as he clung to my shaft tightly and wove his delight up and down the entire length. Duncan's body shifted and that slapped his prick against my cheek again, he was reminding me of my duty.

I took him down again, but this time I only held his dong in my mouth as he continued to bob on top of me and I felt my joy stirring strongly, God, I wanted to come right now, right now!

Duncan began to thrust down into my mouth and I let him for a moment, then I relaxed my mouth so that it didn't grip him.

It took him a moment, and then he growled, "What now?"

"Muh, gumph!" I said around his cock. He pulled it out and I said, "I'm still waiting for the main event."

Silence. "What's your plan?"

"I want you to fuck me."

Silence again. Then, "You sure about that?"

"Yeah." I said. "Though I admit it's going to be a challenge. How about you lie on your back and let me ride it on down."

That offer spurred him into action and the bed bounced as he landed on his back beside me. I got onto my knees and squirmed around, I wanted to watch his face as I fed his rod into my anus.

Damn, that fat pud nearly defeated me. I had to wrench myself back and forth, rocking it into me a little at a time. I felt that broad glans pop into me and I sighed. Half the battle won, the rest would be fought on points. I began to work my hips back and forth, and Duncan groaned as my sphincter worked his glans' sensitive skin, and he grabbed my cock and held in his broad paw, letting my motion fuck his palm and the pleasure of that made my movements stronger, it's easier to stuff a hard dong up your ass when you're turned on, and the more turned on, the more your body is ready and willing to perform to keep it happening.

"Ah, oh, gah!" Duncan gasped as I got better than half his length into me. "Shit, Jaleel, you are really taking my prick, I haven't had anyone take my dong in a long time. I figured you'd take one look at it and just want to suck it."

"Not me!" I groaned. "I want all of it!"

Duncan shuddered, and then he rose up off his shoulders and as I continued to buck back and forth, he caught my cockhead in his mouth and my motions now fucked his mouth as I fucked myself on his ass. God, I was in utter bliss as I moved, the double pleasure of fucking and being sucked, all in one motion. I guess Duncan was cramped and couldn't hold it, but I had about three minutes of complete ecstasy and I was about to cream my load when he fell back gasping.

And that three minute had let me shove the entire length of his cock into myself, I was sitting on his balls and I could feel this massive schlong pulsing inside of me.

I looked down at Duncan underneath me. He was writhing under me. "Now you can fuck me if you want to." I offered.

That was all he needed, he growled and flung me onto my back as he rolled over with me and his hands grabbed my legs and hiked them up high and carried my low back with them, and when he had me ass-highest under him, he began to pound into me.

Oh, God, yeah, yeah! I was being ram-rodded by his hard prong, it was wrenching my insides with every stroke and God, it felt good, so damned good!

I understood my great-to-the-third grandmother now, how she could love being fucked by a man she'd never met, when he was this big, this strrong, this hung! You could ride such a man and bear his child proudly, knowing that he had good blood in his veins, good blood, strong man, good, good!

And that was the blood that was in my veins too. We blacks in America, we were the ones whose ancestors survived a horrific journey to the New World, who endured and survived under centuries of servitude that was as near absolute as mattered, and now we were here, the product of those centuries, big, strong, black and proud with damned good reason! We'd taken everything the white man could throw at us and we'd survived it, Duncan and I were the best of the breed, there was no reason to be ashamed of being black in America, hell, you had been through it and made it!

And Juneteenth was the day we'd chosen to be proud of being black and free. Better than any black history month, this was the day that we said sure, we'd been slaves once, but we weren't any more, so hurrah for us, and fuck you white suckers who used to own us!

So I thrived on Duncan's lusty fuck, I loved that hard, oversized prod jamming into me, and when Duncan began to roar with his climax, I found my joy climbing right up there beside him to join in.

"Ahh-ahh, gahh-guh, GAH-HAHHHH!" Duncan bellowed.

"AH-GAH, HAH, UHHH, GUHHHH!" I chimed in with him.

I was splattering myself with my jizz while Duncan's rod pummeled me from within. I felt surrounded, flooded, drowned in come, I could feel my own load coating my chest, it felt like I had splatted every square inch from my neck to my pubes, while inside me, Duncan's wads were a creamy froth boiling around my intestines.

Duncan slumped down onto me, his breath a roar in my ears and his sweat pouring onto me, I felt my squibs of jizz squelching between us, my sweat, his sweat and my jism all smearing together into a single soup of love.

Duncan caught his breath enough to roll off of me and we lay side by side. I reached one hand up lazily to capture his near nipple between my thumb and forefinger, not hard, just...just loving to hold it.

"Ah, man, you are hot." he breathed.

"You weren't bad yourself." I agreed.

"I'm going to love my summer here." Duncan sighed. "Especially if I can ride your butt every night."

"We'll have to see how sore I am later." I said. "But it sounds good to me otherwise."

"Hell of a nice way to celebrate Juneteenth." Duncan turned onto his side to look at me.

I looked over at his big, massive, bred-for-size body. "I know just what you mean." I agreed and snuggled into his arms. Maybe after this big stud rested, he'd want to go again. I knew I would.

THE END
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