The following story is a work of erotic fiction. It is for entertainment purposes only. It is not intended for minors. It includes teenagers and racially offensive language. Anyone who might be offended by this type of story, or unduly influenced by it, should find something else to read.
I manage the locker room at a local college. As anyone knows, who works with young adult blacks, those ghetto boys tend to be extremely modest when it comes to stripping off their clothing and parading around in front of other men.
Modesty might not be the right word for it; maybe it's just that they're insecure. They have to go out of their way to prove their manhood and demonstrate that they're not homosexual because the lines between homosexuality and heterosexuality have been blurred among their peers.
I mean, most of them grew up in single, female-headed households, so there weren't a lot of male role models around and they grew up with a strong craving for male attention. Maybe this craving is not "homosexual," but sometimes it can be pretty hard to tell whether or not it is.
Also, a good number of them went to prison or a juvenile detention center, so their first experience with sex was when they were butt-fucked by an older man. Again, this does not make them homosexual, but it tends to make them pretty insecure about their sexuality.
And so a lot of them sag their pants below their asses and grab their crotches in front of their homeboys because they're confused -- they don't know whether they want to be fucked by another man or fight him.
Fair enough.
So, when they come to my locker room they're hyper sensitive about doing anything that might expose their sexuality. If they admire each others' smooth dark bodies -- thier muscles, their firm arms or the solid calves -- they're quick to say, "No homo, man. No homo."
Meanwhile they're sporting a black boner the size of long-range missile, and it's dripping pre-cum all over the locker room bench.
So, I wasn't surprised that these horny young black boys decided that they could no longer afford to "expose" themselves in front of their homeboys when they were taking a shower. Not only did they ware gym shorts while showering -- they wore multiple layers of gym shorts, I guess so they had a better chance of concealing their fully erect Negro penises as they ogled their "brothers" wet bodies.
The problem is, I consider it one of my job "benefits" to be able to eye as much straight naked college boy ass that I can get a hold of while I clean up around the locker room. Now these black boys were trying to hide it all from me -- and, frankly, their naked bodies are some of the best you can spy on.
I can see why slave-traders enjoyed their work so much, inspecting Negro penises and testicles, rubbing their hands all over those slaves' smooth black bodies, to see if they would make good breeders and workers in the field. I'd have enjoyed that work too.
I'd love to have been an overseer on a plantation so I could force a Negro man to mount a naked Negro boy in front of me for my entertainment. I'd love watching their slick, sweaty dark bodies mingling together in a "wrestling match" of sex at my feet. I'd hear them humping, sighing, and moaning as their thick black dicks penetrated each others' wet swarthy bodies; hard, horny Negro cocks nestling inside of each other's thick moist lips and tight black anuses.
So, when these black boys decided to cover themselves up, not even removing the towels around their waists until they had changed their shorts underneath, I knew I had to do something about it.
So I instituted new rules and posted them all over the locker room. First: from now on nobody would be allowed to wear clothing of any kind while taking a shower, because wet clothing is unsanitary and attracts germs, mold and mildew.
Second: from now on nobody will be allowed to have a towel until after they have thoroughly showered and appeared before my window so I could hand one to them. This is because the cost of washing and drying fresh towels is taking too much out of our budget under these difficult financial times. Clearly, a boy who hasn't really taken a shower doesn't need a towel and doesn't need to drive up the university's energy bill.
One final rule: locker rooms are for changing clothes, so you have to get completely naked -- otherwise you should be out in the gym changing your clothes. My reasoning here was that the circulation of the fresh and open air of the locker room helps to kill germs that would otherwise be allowed to fester and breed on a boy's partially clothed body. This policy was best for everyone. If you can't comply with these rules then you obviously don't care about your fellow students and you lack sufficient team spirit to be in my locker room.
Oh, I laid it on heavy. I made it seem like treason if you refused to go along with my policies.
Well, I posted these rules and there was a lot of grumbling at first. The Asian and the White boys adjusted easily enough because they had normal attitudes about their bodies and sexuality. The rules really didn't bother them that much. It was the Black boys who gave me the hardest time. For a while they refused to take a shower or use the locker room -- preferring to wear their sweaty clothing on the campus shuttle and in the class room. They didn't seem to mind that they were stinking up the place.
Well, the truth is that many of the white girls on campus found this newly enhanced raw nigger body smell "sexy," but faculty and the campus police were not so thrilled by it. They resented having to be around all of this unwashed blackness.
Eventually they clamped down and forced the boys to take a shower, which meant they would have to comply with my rules.
And comply they did. Before long I had row after row of tall, lanky Negro boys, with big, long dicks, cuing up to my window, dripping wet, so they could get a towel to dry off. I took my good ol' time getting the towel for them so that I could get a good eyeful of their long, dark fuck meat and their low-hanging balls.
I studied the pubic hair on those Negro boys' bodies and inspected their ass cracks when they turned around and bent over to dry off.
I had a whole row of long-dicked naked Negroes lined up outside of my window.
I had a special policy, just for them -- I wouldn't let them take their towels with them back to their benches and lockers because I had to be sure they wouldn't steal them. Again, my rationale was that I was trying to save the university money. These black boys had to dry themselves off in front of me so I could watch their every move.
The policy was a big success. You never saw so many wet, naked dark-skinned boys standing on one leg, trying to balance themselves, as they dried off their toes and their calves. You never saw so much Negro genitalia as they lifted their heavy cocks and nut-sacks and dried along their ass cracks.
Oh, it was a great day to be a locker room manager. I had those Negro boys performing for me to my heart's content. They kept my eyes glued to their bodies and my hands busy behind the counter as I took in the sight.
Needless to say I spilled many a load watching those Negro boys dry themselves. Work was good.
But all great things must come to an end. Eventually one of the rebel-rousing trouble-making black boys complained to the president of the university about my rules -- and accused me of being selective about the "no towels out of my eyesight" rule.
The president eventually reviewed my policies and threw most of them out, even going so far as allowing the Negro boys to go back to wearing their gym trunks in the shower once again. It was a real setback for locker room hygiene.
But, not to worry; I've got an enterprising mind. I'm working on a new plan to convince black boys that only "niggas" with short dicks try to conceal their cocks from other "niggas" in the shower so that they won't get laughed at. We'll see how far this new plan will go.
With any luck I'll have a locker room full of completely naked black boys again in no time at all.