Moan. Three fingers in, all the way to the hand. I’ve never had this done before. DeJon, big—twice as big as me at fourteen—black, muscular is holding me entirely in his power. He’s stretched out against me on his side on the bed in his apartment. I’m half turned to him. His meaty right thigh is on top of my right leg, holding me down. My right arm is trapped under his muscular body. I am his for as long as he wants to use me. And that’s what he’s doing. He’s using me. I’m fourteen. A twenty-eight-year-old black stud is using me. That’s what he told me he is—twenty-eight, twice my age.

The fingers of his left hand have run into the hair on my head, gripping it, holding my head against the mattress. My left leg is raised and turned to him, my ankle on his shoulder. We’re both naked. He’s much bigger than I am, a black god of a man. I am being totally taken by a black bull.

He is master and I am his slave.

He has three fingers of his heavily greased right hand inside my ass, spreading me, opening me up, moving in and out, finger fucking me.

“Take it. Take it,” he murmurs, his voice deep, rumbly. He’s all man.

“Oh, shit. Fuck! I can’t. Too big. I’ve never.”

I hate that it comes out in a whine. I should just say no and pull away. But there’s no possibility of pulling away unless he lets me, and I wanted him to fuck me. I was in a snit. He was my revenge. I wanted the cock—even before I saw how huge, thick, long, and black it was. But it wasn’t the cock I was getting. It was the hand. Thank god it’s a slender one, the fingers long and sensuous. But I’ve ... never ... before...

“I can’t. I can’t.” I’m panting hard, groaning, every fiber of my attention going to those fingers working inside me. Oh, shit, now four. Spreading, finding and rubbing my prostate. I feel my juices rising.

“You can; you will.” His voice is rich, a deep baritone.

Oh, fuck, why is he such a god? Why am I letting him do this? Why has it gotten me dancing on the clouds? I’ve never before ... I’m fully hard myself, stroking my own cock. I’d pulled on his monster meat. I’d put him in full erection. I expected him to cock fuck me. But now ... this.

“FUCK!” He’s starting to force his hand up in there. Panting. Coming close to hyperventilating.

“Take it. Take. You’ll open up. You got a nice ass, boy.”

I am taking it, dammit. Never before have I... “Oh, shit. Oh, fuck.” Something is giving. Something has breached the ring. Oh, shit, it’s the heel of his hand. I move my left ankle off his shoulder, widen my stance as much as possible, dig the heel of my foot in, widen my stance as much as possible.

“FUCK! I can’t! I’m just fourteen.”

“Yes, you can. You will.”

Mooann. He’s in to the wrist. I had no idea I could. He’s flexing his fingers inside me. I try to struggle against him; he won’t let me.

“Take it. Take it. You’re so nice. You’re so sweet. You’re fucked.” He laughs.

He’s moving the hand. In, out, in, out. Shit, he’s fucking me with his fist. Involuntarily, my hips are rocking against the hand. I dig the heel of my left foot in, and I’m shoving my pelvis up, swaying with movement of his hand, going with the rhythm of the fist fuck.

“Oh, FUCCK!”

He laughs. “You did it. We’re fist fucking now, boy. You gonna come for me now, boy. Come for me. Then we’ll really take it downtown.” His face hovers above me, watching my expression as he works me. He’s smiling.