The Hood Part 3 DeMarcus was fucked to sleep that night. A..

The Hood Part 3 DeMarcus was fucked to sleep that night. All the concerns of the Hood were forgotten. The thoughts of his four kids by four different women, and his current old lady, whom he lived with and who was pregnant with his fifth kid, faded. His troubles with the law were out of his mind as he let his guard down. He didn’t had to watch his back all the time. If his homies on the streets saw their boss getting fucked and moaning and cumming like a bitch, they would lose all respect for him. However, all that didn’t matter. He found himself loving the thickness of the white cock inside him and being dominated. It was as if his real life as a strong, tough thug was a lie, a facade to cover the real him. He needed to be controlled, humiliated, reduced to an object to be used and fucked. On Sunday morning, he was once again awaken by the Judge fucking him. DeMarcus would miss the feeling of the thick white cock sliding in and out of his hole. He only had a few short hours left as the older white man’s bitch before he returned to the reality of the hood. At least until another weekend a month away. After Harris came deep inside DeMarcus’s ass again and then got out of bed, the judge led DeMarcus into the shower. He then proceeded to thoroughly wash away the layers of dry cum and sweat from DeMarcus’ exquisite body. After he was finished, he picked out clothes for the bodybuilding thug, a pair of fresh pure white briefs, white pants, and a tight polo shirt, that stretched over his huge pecs and massive arm. When DeMarcus met his approval, the judge then took the hardened criminal to his country club for brunch. No one from his neighborhood would have recognized him if they had seen him. The fine material of the clothes felt so good against DeMarcus’ hard muscular body. At the prestigious country club he was the center of attention, but he felt so out of place. The judge’s rich friends marveled over his mystery guest. A couple in particular were obsessed with him. The wife was obviously born into money, and openly flirted with the powerful looking, dangerous black man, while her husband, a lawyer, only a couple years younger than the judge, couldn’t keep his eyes and hands off DeMarcus. As DeMarcus sat at the elegant table, he tried to bend in by copying the judge’s mannerisms while eating brunch. While the socialite wife continued to flirt with him on his left, he then suddenly felt a hand on his thick right thigh. When he looked down, he saw her husband, the lawyer, hand stroking his muscular leg, moving between the man spread legs and moving up his inner thigh. DeMarcus tried to keep cool as the man’s hand moved further up, making his cock rock hard. The thick black cock was pushing against the tight briefs and pants. He nervously looked across the table at the Judge. Judge Harris smiled at him as if he already knew what was going on under the table. After they ate brunch, the judge and the lawyer excused themselves from the ladies and DeMarcus followed them into a private club room. His thick hardon was impossible to hide as he followed. In the private room, DeMarcus stood nervously as the two well-dressed white men poured themselves drinks and lit expensive cigars. Then the lawyer walked over to the muscular black man, “where did you find him.” He spoke as if he was an object as he cupped the massive pecs through the tight polo shirt. The judge sat down in one of the leather high back chairs and puffed on his cigar, “DeMarcus and I have an agreement. I’ll keep him out of prison in return for him being my good bitch.” “Prison, hmmm, I see,” the lawyer continued to squeeze and groped the oversized pecs. “He is beautiful,” the lawyer whispered. “DeMarcus, why don’t you show Mr. Heyes your talents,” the judge laughed. DeMarcus shocked Heyes by kneeling in front of him. With his large hands, he undid the lawyer’s expensive pants and fished out the white cock. “Oh fuck. Yes, he is very good,” Heyes moaned as DeMarcus wrapped his thick lips around the white cock and deepthroat it. Heyes instinctively grabbed his head and began to thrust his hips, fucking the black man’s mouth. It was the best blow job the lawyer ever received. The judge then stood up and joined his friend. DeMarcus was moving from one cock to another, taking each as far down his throat as he could. While he was sucking one cock, he was stroking the other. He licked and worked the cocks while his own was throbbing inside the tight underwear. The two men reached down and started to pull his shirt off. He obediently lifted his muscular arms and briefly pulled his mouth off their cocks as the shirt was peeled over his head. “God, he is beautiful,” the lawyer moaned as he revealed the flawless, huge muscles. Finally the judge pulled DeMarcus onto his feet and the two men continued to strip him down to his briefs. The white cotton briefs perfectly hugged his around bubble ass and held his throbbing cock tightly. DeMarcus was so relieved when the men finally pulled the briefs down. His black cock popped free and stood straight out from his shaved crotch. “Damn, that ass,” the lawyer marveled at the perfect, plump ass, giving each firm cheek a hard slap. “Yes, wait until you are in it,” the judge laughed. The two men laughed and then guided DeMarcus over to a large antique desk. DeMarcus didn’t need to be told what to do. With only his white socks on, he laid back on the desk and gripped his ankles, pulling his legs up to his chest, exposing his hole. The lawyer was so horny as his eyes fell upon the smooth black manpussy before him. He was happily married but years ago his friend, the judge, had taught him the pleasure of using masculine arrogant younger men. They had often shared a cocky jock, police officer, or fireman, but it was the first black man the lawyer had fucked. The powerful, muscular black man before him now, with his legs in the air, exposing his hole, was so sexy and erotic. Heyes approached between DeMarcus’s legs. Their eyes met and DeMarcus parted his thick, sexy lips. Then with a grunt the lawyer penetrated the black musclepussy. “Oh fuck, it feel so good,” Heyes moaned as he pushed deeper. DeMarcus groaned. The groan seemed to encourage the lawyer to fuck him harder. Heyes pulled out and then slammed back into the muscle stud. Harder Heyes fucked him, the more DeMarcus moaned in pleasure. The judge moved behind DeMarcus and pulled the black man’s head back. DeMarcus’s moans were soon muffled as he was being fucked from both ends. From his position, both men could make out the judge’s cock sliding down inside his throat, pounding his large Adam apple from the inside. The thick neck muscles were flexing and bulging as his throat muscles worked his master’s cock. It didn’t take the lawyer long to cum just from the sight of the pit roosted thug. With a loud grunt Heyes came deep inside DeMarcus' ass. The feeling of the white seed filling him, soon sent DeMarcus over the edge. Keeping the Judge’s cock in his mouth, he moaned over it as his cock erupted. His cock was aimed right at him and long, hard streams of cum shot high in the air. The judge pulled out of his mouth just in time, as gobs of cum landed on DeMarcus’ handsome face. The judge then gripped his cock in his fist and with only a couple of jerks, he followed as well and added his load onto the black man’s face. When Sunday night came, DeMarcus found himself not wanting to go back to his hash life. He never thought he would prefer a life as a kept man or even as a fuck toy to another man. However, as he sat in the passenger seat of the BMW heading back to the hood, he already missed the feel of the thickness of a cock up his ass. DeMarcus want and carve the soft, safe life the judge had introduced him too. He didn’t say a word as he looked out the car window. He was back in his hoodie and snagging jeans, showing off a new pair of white briefs. As the car approached his corner, where a couple of his homies were waiting, he suddenly felt dread. The car stopped at the far stop sign and he felt the judge’s right hand on his lap. DeMarcus turned to look at Judge Harris looking at him. Clearing his throat, “what if I want to make . . . Our. .you know, our arrangement permanent.” For the first time in his life his deep voice cracked. “You want to be my permanent boy,” the judge smirked. “I. . I .., yes, sir,” DeMarcus held his head down. The judge didn’t say a word for the longest time as they were stopped at the stop sign, only feet from DeMarcus’s corner and gang. Then Harris popped the top button of DeMarcus’ jeans and push his hand into them. “That can be arranged. Now strip, I don’t like my slave wearing clothes.” As the car turned and headed out of the hood, DeMarcus was quickly stripping naked. His homies never saw their leader again.