When I Started Driving a Taxi,
Copyright© 2026 by Guisamo
Chapter 1
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1 - "Is it true that Black men have bigger penises?" I don't know how I came up with the idea of asking him that, but I blurted it out. He said, "Man, it's the same with black guys as with white guys, some have bigger ones, some have thicker ones, and some have both bigger and thicker ones."
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Gay Interracial Black Male White Male Anal Sex Double Penetration Oral Sex
When I started driving a taxi, I worked the evening shift, from seven in the evening until eight in the morning. On that shift, you had to take people out to dinner, to the movies, to nightclubs, and when that was over, you had to go to Chinatown to find customers. One night, a Black man who had just dropped off his prostitutes asked me to take him to a neighborhood on the outskirts of town. We were chatting animatedly, and then I asked him, “Is it true that Black men have bigger penises?” I don’t know how I came up with the idea of asking him that, but I blurted it out. He said, “Man, it’s the same with black guys as with white guys, some have bigger ones, some have thicker ones, and some have both bigger and thicker ones.” Anyway, he didn’t clarify anything for me. When we arrived at our destination, he wanted to pay by card, but my card reader was broken, so he told me to park and come up to his place because he had money there. And that’s what we did. When we got upstairs and he opened the door, we could hear moans and screams. It was someone watching a porn movie. From the doorway, we could see the TV screen where a woman was being fucked by two black men with huge dicks, and there was an armchair facing the TV, and above the backrest, we could see a person with an afro. The guy in the taxi yelled, “Roberto, what are you doing?” And turning the chair around, he said, “I’m jerking off. Is there a problem?” My God, if the dicks on TV were big, Roberto’s was enormous. It must have been about twenty centimeters long and five or six centimeters thick. I guess I looked incredulous, but it was true. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Roberto said, “Look at the face the white guy’s making, he’s drooling. I only came up to collect the fare, well, you’re going to get paid in kind, and with a tip on top of that.”
The taxi driver parked the car, his hands slightly sweaty. His heart pounded against his ribs as he climbed the stairs behind his passenger, a tall, dark-skinned man named Marcus. Each step echoed in the silence of the building on the outskirts of town, a modest apartment block where the hallway lights flickered indifferently.
“Don’t worry about the noise,” Marcus said over his shoulder, pulling out a bunch of keys. “Roberto always plays it loud. He’s ... how to put it ... a film buff.”
The taxi driver didn’t know whether to laugh or feel apprehension. The truth was, he’d spent the entire night with a mixture of curiosity and suppressed excitement ever since that conversation about anatomy had started in the car. The question he’d impulsively blurted out about racial stereotypes had earned him an evasive but polite answer. And now, here he was, following a stranger home at three in the morning because his card reader had decided to die that very night.
Marcus opened the door and the sound enveloped them like a wave. Female moans amplified by the speakers, the characteristic banging of furniture against the wall that only adult films produce, and amidst all that noise, the squeak of a leather armchair as it swiveled.
“Roberto, damn it!” Marcus shouted, slamming the door. “That thing blasting again? We have a visitor.”
The taxi driver blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dimness of the living room. The apartment was small but tidy, with action movie posters on the walls and an open-plan kitchen that smelled of freshly brewed coffee. But his attention was inevitably drawn to the living room, where the flat-screen TV was showing an explicit scene: a blonde woman being simultaneously penetrated by two dark-skinned men, both endowed with an anatomy that made the taxi driver’s lips involuntarily lick.
“I said I’d come up to collect the fare...” the taxi driver muttered, more to himself than to anyone else.
“And you’re going to collect,” Marcus replied with a lazy smile, taking off his jacket. “But relax, man. I don’t bite. Well, not without permission.”
The armchair swiveled completely, revealing Roberto. He was younger than Marcus, maybe twenty-five or twenty-six, with an athletic build hinted at beneath a tight t-shirt. His afro formed a perfect crown around a face with delicate yet masculine features. But what truly captured the taxi driver’s attention was what peeked out from under the t-shirt, or rather, what spilled out from the edge of his open sweatpants.
The taxi driver felt his breath leave his lungs. Roberto hadn’t been just “jerking off.” He was holding a member in one hand that defied gravity and human proportion. Twenty-three or twenty-four centimeters long, maybe more, with a thickness that made Roberto’s hand, large as it was, seem small when he grasped it. The tip glistened with the natural lubrication of arousal, and the veins traced a map of desire beneath the dark, satiny skin.
“Fuck, Marcus,” Roberto said.
Without any shame, moving his hand in a slow, almost exhibitionist caress—”You’ve brought a fan. Look at those eyes.”
The taxi driver realized he’d been staring, his mouth slightly open, feeling an intense heat rise up his neck to his cheeks. It was a mixture of embarrassment and pure, animal fascination. He’d never seen anything like it in person. The stories, the rumors, the videos—nothing prepared you for the physical reality of such a ... presence.
“I told you it’s the same with Black people as with white people,” Marcus murmured, approaching the taxi driver from behind, making him jump at the heat of his body. “But Roberto here ... he’s what you’d call a statistical exception. A case study.”
“Shut up, Marcus,” Roberto laughed, but didn’t stop masturbating, now staring at the taxi driver, assessing him from head to toe. “The white guy looks like he’s about to faint. Are you sure what we’re seeing is consent, or is it shock?” “Ask him,” Marcus suggested, his breath brushing against the taxi driver’s ear.
“I ... I just wanted to get paid,” the taxi driver managed to say, though his voice was hoarse, almost a whisper.
Roberto rose from the seat with feline fluidity, his erect member pointing toward the ceiling, defying any attempt to ignore it. He walked over to where the taxi driver stood frozen near the door, the movement making his body sway heavily, hypnotically.
“Fifty euros, right?” Roberto asked, stopping just inches away. His scent was intense, masculine, clean but with something wild beneath it. “Or fifty-five with the tip.”
The taxi driver nodded, unable to look away. Roberto was so close he could feel the heat radiating from his body, see every detail: the texture of his skin, the curve of his member, the pearly drop at the tip that threatened to fall.
“I don’t have any cash upstairs,” Roberto said, his voice dropping a tone, becoming husky. “But I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”
Marcus had moved to block any retreat, though the taxi driver wasn’t sure he wanted to leave. The night had taken a surreal turn, as if the lounge had become a stage where normal reality didn’t apply.
“You asked if it was true,” Marcus reminded him, his hand resting on the taxi driver’s shoulder, massaging it firmly. “It would be a shame to leave you wondering.”
Roberto took another step, completely invading the taxi driver’s personal space. His member now brushed against the man’s abdomen through his shirt, leaving a damp mark that pierced the fabric.
“Touch me,” Roberto invited, not an order, but not a plea either. It was an offer. “See for yourself if the stereotypes are true.”
The taxi driver’s hand rose as if of its own volition, trembling. When his fingers closed around the base of Roberto’s penis, the groan that escaped both men confused the taxi driver about who had made it. The flesh was warm, surprisingly heavy, with a firmness that yielded slightly under pressure. Veins throbbed against his palm, and when he slid his hand up, he discovered that even his two hands together wouldn’t cover its entire length.
“Holy shit,” he whispered.
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Marcus said, and his hands began unbuttoning the taxi driver’s shirt from behind. “Roberto’s generous. He always shares his ... tips.”
Roberto tilted his head, bringing his lips close to the taxi driver’s ear as the latter remained fascinated by the tactile exploration.
“You know what they say?” Roberto murmured. “That those who drive all day need someone else to take the wheel once in a while. Relax, taxi driver. Tonight, the ride’s free, but fate ... fate’s about to change you.”
The taxi driver felt his pants fall, Marcus’s hands expertly undressing him, and reality blurring between the screen still projecting moans and the new film he was about to star in, with a leading lady far more impressive than any movie actor.
“Take off your clothes,” Roberto finally ordered, stepping back to let the taxi driver undress. “And kneel. If you want to get paid, you’re going to have to work for that tip first.”
The taxi driver obeyed, feeling the cold floor beneath his knees, aware that this night’s shift had just become something he would never forget, while two dark-skinned shadows loomed over him, promising that curiosity, tonight, wouldn’t kill the cat, but it would leave him unable to walk upright for days.
The taxi driver felt the cold parquet floor against his bare knees, but the heat radiating from his core kept him immune to shivering. He was kneeling in front of Roberto, his hand still wrapped around that member that seemed to defy the laws of human proportion, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Marcus He undressed with methodical calm, like someone preparing for a sporting event.
“Slowly,” Roberto murmured, placing a hand on the taxi driver’s head, his fingers tangling in his hair. “There’s no rush. The night is long, and you’ve been driving all day. Let me drive now.”