Chocolate Cake by antelope92

(This story is the property of its author, H. K. Smythe. Any unauthorized reproduction or reprint without the express authorization of the author is strictly prohibited. Characters under 18 do not engage in sexual activity.)

(Many thanks to Kenji Sato for trying to make this story better.)

Chocolate Cake

(He always liked chocolate cake. Will his preference for chocolate extend to lovers?)

Granville Davis

I have always liked chocolate cake. Nothing special with chocolate bars, but chocolate cake is my everything. My mother tried to interest me in red velvet, carrot, strawberry, and ugh, white cake. I also like my chocolate cake with smooth, moist, soft icing, but the main thing was chocolate cake. I could never eat as much as I wanted. If I had, I would have weighed 365 pounds or more.

I had my first sexual experience when I was a senior in high school. I was hanging out with some of my friends, and they wanted to go out with Mary. Mary had been our classmate since the fifth grade. In the eighth grade she had started to get a reputation as "easy". I hadn't done anything with Mary before even though I had heard rumors about midnight sessions on picnic tables, drives around town with her panties stuck in a sun roof, and more. We drove to her house, and Jerry went to the front porch and rang the doorbell. Mary answered and came out to the car. She looked at everyone in it. "I haven't been out with you before, Granville," she said.

"Get in and let's go," Jerry said.

"Okay," she replied, "Can I sit by you, Granville?"

"Uh, of course," I replied.

"I'll sit in the middle, but I want to talk to Granville." She asked me, "You haven't done this before, have you?" she asked me.

"No," I admitted.

Dewey was driving us out into the country. She suggested, "Let the others go first. You can watch. Then, I'll take special care of you, okay?"

I replied, "Okay."

I watched as she took off her skirt and then her panties. I learned that the general idea of it was that we would drive around on country roads until we were finished.

Soon, Mary was nude and Tommy had taken his pants off. Mary began playing with Tommy's junk, while Tommy was sucking Mary's boob. Dewey stopped, so that I could move to the front. Since I had been assigned the task of watching the proceedings. I kneeled with my knees next to Dewey and Jerry with my elbows on their seats. Then I noticed that Tommy was massaging the hairy area between Mary's legs.

Mary spoke, "I'm ready, and I think you are, Tommy."

Mary lay down with her butt near where I had been sitting, and her back supported by the armrest, where I had been sitting. Tommy put his knees beside Mary's buttocks and stuck his member into her. He then began thrusting with his hips back and forth in and out of Mary. I had never seen sex before and I, found this very exciting. I wanted to do it, too. Mary began moaning and breathing heavily. After a while, she cried out, "Oh!" "Oh, oh!" "Ah-h-h."

Then, they were quiet. At first, I thought he had hurt her. Then she said, "That was good, Tommy, but don't stop now."

He began thrusting into her again. It was pretty much the same, except that this time, Tommy started groaning. After a while he shivered and gave a couple of final irregular pelvic thrusts. It seemed to be over.

Mary said, "That was nice, Tommy, very nice."

Tommy pulled out. I could see a small amount of semen drop onto the car seat. He pulled his pants back on. "All done, Dewey."

Dewey stopped the car and Tommy and Mary got out. Then Mary got back in, while Tommy and Jerry exchanged places. I was surprised that Mary just walked out in the open, nude. Apparently, she wanted to stretch her legs after having to keep them folded during her intercourse with Tommy.

"There's no cars coming, Dewey, why don't we just stay here and leave the car doors open."

Jerry and Dewey took their turns. Then it was my turn.

I was aroused, but still very nervous. Mary said, "Don't worry, Granville, I'll help you. First, you have to take your pants off."

I was shy to take my pants off, but I had already seen the other guys' junk, and I did want to know what it felt like, so there was nothing to do but take my pants off.

"Don't get in yet," Mary instructed me. She kneeled down in front of me and took my organ into her mouth. Her mouth was very warm and moist and felt so good. She took her mouth back and forth a couple of times and then took it out.

"Be careful you don't cum too quick," she told me.

Then she laid down on the back seat. She let her right leg dangle off the end of the car seat outside the car, and put her left leg on the car floor, fully exposing her pubis. I put my right leg on the car floor and my left leg on the seat. She guided my fully erect manhood into her pussy, and it was the most wonderful sensation.

I knew I was in trouble, I started to think about yesterday afternoon's softball game, anything to diminish the sensations, so that I wouldn't embarrass myself by ejaculating prematurely. As I began my pelvic thrusts, she smiled. Encouraged, I increased my tempo and she began to moan and breath heavily, as she had with the other guys. When I felt her convulse, I couldn't hold back any longer and felt the bliss of my own climax.

"That was very good, Granville. Excellent for a cherry boy."

I withdrew and saw some of my sperm fall onto the car seat. She sat up and pulled her panties on. "Put your pants on, Granville. I need to go home and get my beauty sleep."

As I pulled my pants on, Jerry slapped me on the back, "Congratulations, Granville, you're a man now."

When I got home, I took a shower and went to bed. I was a little disappointed that I didn't feel any guilt about my first fornication. I just wanted to do it again.

I wanted to do it a lot more than I ever got to do it in high school. I saw Mary a few more times.

Chris

My full name was Granville Davis. I don't know why my parents named me Granville. There's not even any good nicknames for Granville. For obvious reasons, I didn't want to be called Granny. I decided that they must have given me the name so I could add a third name later. Also, when I was a junior in high school, I decided that I liked the name Christopher. I didn't want to talk to my parents about it, but I told my friends that I wanted them to call me Chris. None of them had any problem with that. I waited until I was at college to change my legal name to Christopher Granville Davis. Now everyone could call me Chris, or Christopher or C.G. I preferred Chris, but anything but Granville was fine.

For my college, I chose State because I had heard great things about it. It was a good research university, but also known as a party school. I wanted to become a scientist, but I also wanted to party.

At one of the Freshman orientation events I met Betty, who had smiled at me a few times. I found her to be interesting when we talked, so I asked her out.

I parked with her at a roadside park on a state highway that wouldn't have much traffic and started kissing her. She suggested going to the back seat to continue. Before getting in the back seat she took her jeans off; so, I did the same. She and I did it on Friday and Saturday nights and occasionally on a Tuesday or Wednesday night for the rest of my freshman year.

After Betty, I met some other girls, but it never seemed to last more than a few months. Some girls would do it, and some wouldn't.

Early in my sophomore year, I was at a student union event and saw a buxom Black girl sitting in a chair next to a wall. For some reason, I decide to try a new line on her. "Hello," I said. "I'm Chris."

"I'm Pam. Are you enjoying the event, Chris?"

"Yes, especially since I met you."

"Thank you, Chris, I do my best."

"Pam, I wanted to tell you something, but I'm a little shy."

"What is it, Chris?"

"I've always liked chocolate cake, but I've never tasted a chocolate girl."

I watched her face to see her reaction. It was a little difficult in the somewhat dimly lit room.

She looked like she was surprised by what I said. She seemed to be trying to decide if she had really heard what she thought she had. 'Uh-oh,' I thought, 'I better backtrack.' "I'm sorry. I hope that didn't come across as racist."

She asked me, "Did you intend it to be racist?"

I told her, "No, and I'm sorry if it sounded that way. However, I have to admit that I've never been out with a Black girl, but I'd like to go out with you."

Good, she smiled. She replied, "No, it was okay. A little forward. So, you've never dated a Black girl?"

"No, my high school only had a few Black students. It was in a rural area and over 95% white. So, I just never met that many Black girls."

She inquired, "Would you like to date me? I'm not promising a taste; at least not on the first date."

I replied, "Does this count as our first date?"

She asked, "Are we having a date?"

I suggested, "Not yet, but maybe this could become a date. Of course, that would only be if you were willing."

She responded, "Let's not go too far, too fast. This is a nice tune, would you like to dance?"

I told her, "Yes, I would."

Pamela O'Brien.

I grew up in a historically black enclave in Oak Cliff. I have an Irish maternal grandfather and three grandparents of African ancestry. My mother had a hard time supporting me after my father left, but she really wanted me to go to college. We saved a little money, I got a scholarship to State, and we decided that I would have to take out student loans for the rest.

I was very excited to be a freshman at State and wanted to participate in every part of student life. My big city high school was mostly African-American, so I had never dated a white guy. I expected that would change at State but I didn't know what the future would bring.

I decided to start attending student union events and maybe I would meet a nice Afro-American guy, although the odds were against that because the University of Texas had mostly Anglo students. The biggest minority there was the Hispanic students.

I was a little surprised to have this White guy come up and start hitting on me. He seemed okay until he came up with this chocolate-cake and chocolate-girl line. I couldn't decide whether if was funny or racist. I finally decided it was cute in a racist sort of way, but that he didn't really mean anything by it.

I liked the way he held me when we danced - close, but not too close, especially when we danced to a slow song. I spent the rest of the evening talking and dancing with him. When the evening was over, we started to walk back toward the dorms; he stopped me and kissed me. I kissed him back. He was cute and nice, so why not I thought. We kissed some more, and I thought 'What the hell! Why not!'.

"Would you like to come up to my room," I asked him, when we got to my dorm.

Chris

I enjoyed dancing with Pam. She was a big girl, but light on her feet and a good dancer. I enjoyed holding her while we danced. I couldn't decide whether to try to kiss her at the end of each dance or not, but I never got up my nerve. She was nice to talk to as we discussed the difficulties of getting the right classes at the right time. Thankfully, the University no longer had eight o'clock Saturday morning classes.

When the dance was over, I offered to walk her home. We stopped to look at a statue, it must have been some state hero or official, and that was when I kissed her. She kissed me back. Then we kissed each other. She did have a bit of a salty taste, but I liked it.

When we reached her dorm, she asked me if I would like to come to her room for a while. She had a private room; she told me there was a lottery and she had gotten one of the four private rooms on each floor. It was a coed dorm so there was no problem with me using the communal bathrooms.

When we got to her room, I was a little surprised that her first action was to take off her dress. Clad only in her panties and bra, I could tell that although she was large, she was stacked and had nice curves. I was only too glad to embrace her and kiss her, as we came together in the center of her room.

Pam

It took longer than usual to walk to my dorm because Chris kept kissing me every time we passed a statue, a sign, or a tree. I didn't mind the kisses. He was a very nice kisser. His mouth was soft and he liked to run his tongue between my tongue and teeth which I liked.

By the time we got to my room, I had decided what I wanted. I wanted Chris in my bed and I had decided that I wanted to accelerate things. I didn't want to wrinkle my frock, so the first thing I did was hang it in my closet. When I turned around to face Chris, I could tell that he liked what he was seeing, so I approached him and kissed him.

I enjoyed his embrace and snuggled against him. He removed his pants while I was taking my panties off which I hung on one of the lower bedposts, while he was hanging his pants on the near upper bedpost. Ditto, for my bra and his shirt.

When he sat on the side of the bed, I quickly straddled his thighs and began kissing him. I knew I was already moist. and I could tell he was very erect. So, after a few kisses, I inserted his organ into my vagina. It felt so good. I felt additional sensations from my groin to my bosom. I began to move up and down, not only enjoying the sensations of his member sliding against my labia and the walls of my vagina, but also his pubic ridge against my clitoris, and his chest against my nipples. Our embrace was enhanced by our kissing.

I couldn't remember ever feeling so good so fast. I was really into this guy. It only took about fifteen or twenty thrusts for me to enhance my heavy breathing with moaning and another fifteen or twenty before I was crying out my ecstasy at orgasm.

I moved to lie on the bed. He climbed on top of me, and after a nice kiss, he entered me with his rod of feminine delight, and it felt very good when he began to go in and out of my kitty. I massaged his flanks, encouraging him to pound me harder and faster. Gradually, the in-and-outs increased my excitement and arousal, and it wasn't long until I was again screaming my joy at climax.

The fantastic sensations of my breasts and abdomen were indescribable. Oh, my God, this guy was good!

He rolled me over onto my hands and knees. I took the initiative, sticking his member into my pussy, and I immediately began ramming my butt against his pubic area. I couldn't get enough of his manhood inside me. The friction of him against the walls of my vagina, and even more against the lips of labia, was increasing my arousal tremendously. I felt the rising tide of arousal getting higher and higher, until I had another huge orgasm.

When the spasms began to subside, he resumed banging me. All I could think was more, more, more. It felt so good, and then it ended with a lovely orgasm and my crying out my ecstasy.

He scooted me up the bed a few feet and pulled me back onto him, which was an interesting way to get to doggy. I began to shake my hips forward and back. My body was filled with the delicious sensations of complete sexual arousal. Damn! This White boy was good! I just wanted to eat him up!

Again, I felt the quickening of nearing orgasm. "Oh! Oh! Oh!" I cried, "It's so good!" as my body shook with ecstasy. It felt so good to cum while riding him.

I gave him my best, 'let's keep on doing this' kiss. With my spasms subsiding, still kissing him, I began to thrust up and down this time. It was a different situation but yielding the same gradual increase in sexual excitement. I was feeling it from my breasts to my pussy. I didn't know why I was enjoying this guy so much but I knew for sure I didn't want to stop. Soon, my rising tide of arousal gave way to the sweet sensations of orgasm as my body shook with the pleasures of pure lust.

With endorphins still flooding my body, I did a one-eighty into reverse cowgirl and let him view my ample butt bouncing up and down on his stick of joy. I didn't care what he saw, as long as I could keep doing this. I hoped he would want to see me again, but it was then that I could feel my rising tide of passion taking me over the top once more into a thunderous climax.

I thought, 'it must be his turn now'. "What would you like?" I asked.

He guided me toward a facedown position. Then he slapped me on the butt, and ordered, "Flatten it out, Chocolate Girl!"

I was feeling too good to complain then, but I would take him to task later for the 'Chocolate Girl' name.

His flatiron skills were unsurpassed in my experience and resulted in two orgasms on my part. While working up to the second orgasm, he pulled my head back and kissed me most of the way home. I was becoming putty in his hands. I would do anything he asked. All he asked was for me to raise my hips to a kneeling position and after penetrating me, he pulled me up by my arms into the kneeling-prison-guard position.

I had no control as his repeated thrusts against my butt caused my boobs to bounce up and down. While my body shook in orgasm, he released my arms, so I could savor the endorphin flow with my face on my pillow. He then grabbed my breasts and pulled me back up into a modification of our previous position. The increased stimulation of my boobs and the continued pounding of my butt made me cum even quicker. I was beginning to wonder if I would last much longer.

As if sensing my developing fatigue, he rolled me over into the missionary position. His pubic bone against my clit added to the stimulation of my labia and vagina by his cock and it didn't take long for me to convulse in another huge climax. After a pause he resumed pounding me, and again, I felt the rising tide of arousal growing and growing, until again, my body shook in a thunderous orgasm. This felt so unbelievably good and yet I was wondering if I had enough stamina to go much longer.

Again, he continued, and between my moans and heavy breathing, I could tell from his increasing respiration that he was also approaching climax, and soon, we both orgasmed as I felt his hot spurts inside me.

I couldn't bring my body close enough to him so I had to satisfy myself with trying to stick my tongue down his throat. If there was a difference between ecstasy and great ecstasy, this was great ecstasy. I kept on squeezing him and kissing him in my after lust. Finally, he said, "Pam, I can't breathe."

I let him go. "I'm so sorry. I was carried away in the moment. Are all white guys as good as you?"

I learned how quick he was, "No, no, none of them are as good as me. If you want this, I am the only source."

"Really?" I arched my eyebrow.

"Okay, busted," he admitted. "I'm not the only one, but I think I am pretty good. Part-way out toward the tail of the bell curve."

I replied, "I think you are a lot better than pretty good, but what's up with 'Chocolate Girl?'"

"You didn't like that? Let me explain and then you decide, okay?"

"I'm listening. This better be good."

"I've only known you a short while, but already I'm liking everything I know about you. I can tell you're intelligent, personable, and you have a good body."

I interrupted him, "But it'd be a great body, if there were a little less of it."

"Maybe," he responded, "but I like it a lot, just the way it is, and I like your black skin, too."

I inquired, "Don't you think liking me for my skin color is a bit racist?"

That slowed him down a bit, "Maybe it is; you would know better than me. But I look at it like this: Your personality, intelligence, your body, your sexuality, all together it makes a nice chocolate cake. Actually, better than nice, more like wonderful."

Chocolate Cake

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