had never seen a black man's penis before that Saturday night we went out, Brooklyn Max and John and I. Well, no, of course that is not true, since I had seen plenty of them in the locker-room in college, (although none growing up in my sheltered backwoods, entirely white, hometown) and in the sauna we were lucky to have as part of our college gym. But I had never seen one up close or an erect one, or one in action before, and it is still a sight that haunts my memories some twenty years after the fact.
Someone had told us about a party on Middlefield Drive up at the north end of town, past the graduate student housing apartments. We wandered around till we found what we thought was the place. It was one of those late September nights that still had the feel of summer - at 8pm it still was in the upper 80s, and most everyone usually wanted all their windows open to let the hot, heavy air circulate.
We had a couple six-packs of Pabst, and we had brought some cards since it sounded like there would be a pile of poker playing to do. Max was a little short feisty guy from New York, his accent and manner could force a pained expression out of all the stuffy, well-heeled New England types who populated our college town. He was funny and reminded me of a low-brow Woody Allen, and after seeing his tough-it-out neighborhood in New York, I had developed the theory that the reason his humor was so well developed was in order to save his hide as a kid, since he was neither large nor powerful nor fast. Deflecting anger and aggression was probably a good idea. He could get you laughing over his stories of life down there, faster than you imagine, and lots of nights after a few beers, he would get us falling out of our chairs with some bizarre tale from his past, like the time he noticed a couple making out on the subway, who got so involved that the woman's panties had dropped down to her ankles, while her guy worked his hand up her dress and over her vulva. He could play the story out until you couldn't wait to hear what happened, and we were all dying to find out if the wench had tripped over her panties on the way out of the subway car or what. An evening spent with Max was never wasted.
John was from Virginia, tall and slender with immaculate manners, and he had a quiet wit and a nice soft southern accent. He told different kinds of stories, longer and more rustic, about growing up in rural Virginia, finding backwoods stills and various hideaways and drinking illicit whiskey with the local hill folk. Unlike Max and I, who had grown whatever facial hair we could to make us look older than our 19 years, John was clean-shaven and really, his body was still mostly hairless to a fairly astonishing degree. We made a lively threesome.
We checked the address, walked up some stairs to the porch, and knocked on the door. The lights were on and we could see some folks inside on a couch through the curtains, but the lights were low and it wasn't nearly as noisy as a party should have been.
We waited a couple minutes and knocked again. A tall black guy came to the door, with something, not even a towel but some quickly grabbed piece of fabric, maybe a couch slip cover or something, wrapped around his waist. He looked hot, his forehead quite sweaty, and his breathing was somewhat rapid.
"Whattaya want?" he asked.
"Ah" John stammered, a bit uncharacteristically, "we heard there was a party here tonight. 243 Middlefield Drive? This is the right place?"
"Yep, that's here. Who told you, Kenny?"
"Yes, it was Kenny," said Max.
The guy smiled. "Party was last night. Kenny got the date wrong."
The three of us looked at each other and felt pretty stupid.
"No," Max insisted, "it was tonight, I know Kenny said tonight."
"Probably did," said the guy, "but it wouldn't be the first time the boy erred."
We laughed and started to apologize to the guy. He waved his hands and told us it was nothing, and then noticed the six-packs of beer in John's hands.
"Hey, you all still up for a party? I meant to have some beer around but am plumb out. It's fierce hot and those beers sure look good. If you don't mind donating the beer, I can round some other things to munch on to go with them."
"Okay if we have visitors, Coleen?" he turned to his companion on the couch, whom we had not noticed until now. She had a cute blonde pony tail and now that we paid attention she actually looked really quite handsome. She was slender, her hair a bit mussed, but a very appealing woman.
"Sure Eddy," she said. "Come on in, boys."
We sat down in the living room, made introductions, and passed beers around. It was fairly instantly obvious that they had just been having a little sexual session on the couch. Both of them were still pretty sweaty and the room smelled like sex. Eddy was built like a wide receiver, long and lean, with close cropped hair and an angular face. Coleen had pulled on a short little bathrobe, made of satin or some such smooth fabric, but had not been very careful about how well she closed it. We could see her cleavage and by the way her breasts moved around inside the robe it wasn't hard to figure out that she had no bra on or in fact anything at all.
The guy popped the top of his beer and took a long draught, then let out a sigh of pleasure.
"Nothing I like better after a good fuck on a hot night than a cold beer." He said it like he was talking about the weather.
We all looked at each other and saw the two of them exchanging a long, loving glance.
"Um, did we intrude on you all?" John ventured. "Did we interrupt a copulation in process?"
Eddy looked at him with a big smile. "Copulation? No we just had a good fuck," drawing the last word out. "A good, sopping-wet fuck."
We laughed, each of us keeping an eye on Coleen out of the corner of our eyes, wondering what she was thinking of all this.
John got him talking and it turned out he was a grad student at the university, his companion an undergrad there. He was an MBA candidate and seemed really sharp. His woman was doing sociology, and turned out she was interested in racial and sex differences in various populations. Interesting notions. As we talked his towel or whatever it was, had worked its way off his body, and we were treated to the sight of his penis, which lolled impressively on his left thigh. It was uncircumcised, and looked surprisingly long, like a big piece of garden hose. His prickhead had withdrawn mostly back into his foreskin, but it still looked luscious wet at the tip. It was not hard to imagine them going at it just before we arrived.
While chatting and sucking down our beers, Coleen had gone and gotten some pretzels and other food items for us. I had noticed when she got up that there was a noticeable wet spot on the rear of her bathrobe where she had been sitting. Eddy's semen and her own fluids must have been still juicing around inside her while she sat there listening to us do small talk, and had leaked out onto the back of her robe. I watched with fascination as she went around the room offering up pretzels, her nipples bobbing about inside her satin smooth bathrobe. When she leaned towards me while offering me the tray of snacks I was able to completely see one of her breasts sidelong inside her robe. She settled down next to Eddy and snuggled next to him, her hands rubbing his chest and side.
We talked studies and various college issues for some time, basking in the gentle generosity of these folks, who at the same time preserved an aura of intense sexual excitement.
After awhile, we noticed that one of her hands had wandered down to his groin, and she began lightly stroking the side of his penis. Max and I exchanged looks, since we couldn't quite believe what we were seeing. Eddy kept talking away, his tongue loosened with the beer, now working on his second. Beer in his right hand, he rested his left on Coleen's back and rubbed her softly. But his prick was beginning to grow before our eyes, and we no longer were able to pretend we weren't seeing what was happening in front of us.
Eddy stopped talking, and all of our eyes made their way to his shaft, which was perceptibly hardening on his thigh. It was so goddam long. Did all black males have this sort of equipment? I felt a little self conscious myself, the thing was a brute.
"Now this is what I call a party," he finally sighed. "A good fuck on a hot night, a cold beer, some food and conversation, and another cockstand a-coming." Coleen had abandoned any pretensions of keeping her robe fastened, and it was hard to keep our eyes from staring as more and more of her body got revealed. She had a nice chest, not very large, but with dark big pointy nipples and a flat athlete's belly.
She took this last statement as an invitation of sorts. There right in front of us she started going down on the guy's amazing cock. She slid her lips gently over the head of his prick, which while in the process of getting hard, was still semi-erect only, unable to quite stand on its own. She had pulled the foreskin down from the prickhead which she eased around in her mouth a bit, and you could see her tongue slip out of her mouth as she tickled it around the edge of his glans. She gently sent her mouth down over his shaft a few times, and then pulled back to admire her work. His member had been grateful for the attention, for it now stood proud, pointing up towards his chest.
I have to say at this point that this scene had dredged up a whole set of conflicting feelings within me. Watching Coleen sucking on this guy's prick just looked so enticing, so absolutely marvelous, that I almost wanted to push her aside and do it myself. I had had my mouth and hands on a few pricks in my adolescence, and the penis on this man seemed exotic, powerful and altogether captivating. The head of his prick was much pinker than his dark shaft, and being uncircumcised, and with his foreskin pulled back, his glans looked like an exposed jewel, altogether alluring. Watching her run her tongue along his gorgeous prick-head made my own mouth water.
"Quite an impressive penis you have there," observed John, ever the gentleman.
"Thanks," Eddy smiled. "I like it myself. Prettiest damn sight in the world, an erect cock." He tightened his ass which twitched his prick back and forth in front of us, for emphasis I guess.
"How you guys doing? " he asked, looking at our crotches.
I had on a pair of loose, white painter's pants, and my erection was not obvious, but John and Max in their regulation college jeans had fairly obvious bulges in their groin area.
Eddy laughed. "I would be pretty surprised if Coleen hadn't gotten you guys aroused by now. Come on, out with the cocks. Kenny promised you guys a party, we might as well have a party."
We looked at each other, trying to calculate the odds of our evenings luck, juggling a thousand different thoughts. What was this going to be like? Were we in any danger being in this guy's house with our clothes off, our pricks out and in such a vulnerable position? At the same time, I think we were each going: Holy Mother of God, what a stroke of luck!
I had my pants and undershorts off first, my member standing out stiffly. Coleen and Eddy gazed carefully, while the others dropped their drawers. We all stood there in the room, checking each other out. I had seen John and Max without their clothes before, when we had gone naked swimming in one of the streams up in the hills, but of course had never seen their pricks out and erect.
Max had a short stiff, thick prick, John's looked a little longer than mine, but thin, with a smallish head, my own short but of decent girth, and we all were all dwarfed by Eddy.
Max pointed at Eddy's prick and said something about he could make some money showing off that thing and we all laughed.
"How big is your tool anyway?" I asked.
"Almost eight inches," he smiled, "five and three quarter inches around."
"Mine is five and a half long, thicker than longer," I said.
The other guys looked at me with some amusement.
"You know your prick size?" John asked.
"Sure. I had a long, lonesome adolescence in backwoods New Hampshire, with not a lot else to do but play with this," pointing at my cock, now standing out from my groin thicket, about 90 degrees from vertical. I hadn't meant it to, but the head was pointing straight at Coleen. "This is strictly your average dick lengthwise - right about in the middle of the pack." My old gearhead friends, obsessed with car engines, called it "over-square" - something about being thicker than longer or some automotive bore and stroke ratio thing. "How 'bout you guys?"
Neither one of them confessed to measuring before, and Eddy reached into a tabletop drawer and tossed a cloth tape measure over to John.
John was almost six inches long, five inches around, Max just over five but five and a half inches thick.
I did some quick math, "Well, we got not quite 25 inches of erect penis here. Over two feet."
"And marvelous hard at that," observed John, in an understatement.
"And one very handsome woman," I remarked, looking Coleen in the eye.
Coleen returned my glance with a half smile, and turned her gaze to the forest of penises poking out around the room. Not a one could be called soft. Then she looked long and hard at Eddy, I daresay her eyes were wet and shining.
Eddy summed up most of our thoughts and took them another step. "We don't do this all that often. But you seem like decent folks and the night is still young. A couple of ground rules," he continued. "You can't come in her mouth, that's for me, and you will need a condom if you are going to fuck her. She has to be willing though. too."
She smiled around the room at us, rubbing one hand on Eddie's prick, and I didn't get the feeling that unwillingness on her part was going to be a problem.
"Other than that, and no rough stuff, pretty much the sky's the limit."
He settled back into the couch, next to Coleen, who reached over with one hand and began fondling his truly marvelous prick again, never taking her eyes off the rest of us.
Eddy looked at John, prick pointing towards the ceiling, his balls already drawn way up into his scrotum. "Come here a second."
John walked over a little self-consciously, prick wagging from one side to another. Eddy felt his balls, running them through his hands as if calculating their weight, and then slowly felt up along John's shaft. John didn't let on to any particular expression, and I noticed Colleen watching intently, her hand still lingering at Eddy's crotch.