“Oh my god, this is really happening,” Stephanie thought.

Suddenly, there it was. The first erect penis the youngster had ever seen, right in front of her face. It was kind of scary.

But something had recently been awakened in the blonde teenager. Stephanie couldn’t identify it, but she felt it deep in her loins—a need as strong as hunger or thirst. She knew in that moment that she was not a little girl any longer.

From this new perspective, that big hard cock looked absolutely magnificent.

“Wow,” she said quietly.

“Put you hand around it.”

She did, and felt blood pulsing through the meaty shaft.

“Now put your other hand around it.”

There was plenty of cock for both hands.

“Oh my god,” she said out loud.

“Stroke it,” he ordered. “Stroke it nice and slow.”

She did as she was told, feeling the velvety skin move over the hot, hard meat within. Bulging veins throbbed under her fingers and the turgid organ grew even thicker and harder as she stroked it. Clear fluid began to run from its single eye.

“You see that stuff comin’ out?” said Michael, and Stephanie realized that he was looking down, watching her.

She nodded.

“Use that shit to get my dick all slick and wet. It feels even better that way.”

Stephanie again followed his instructions, wetting her fingers with the clear fluid. She discovered that it was not watery, but rather viscous and slippery. Thus coated, his long fat cock slid easily through her hands.

“Oh fuck, yes,” he groaned. “You look so fucking beautiful down on your knees stroking my cock.”

I’m stroking Michael’s cock, thought Stephanie. I’m on my knees in his bedroom, and I’m stroking his huge black cock.

It was not the way she had imagined their relationship would progress.

Stephanie didn’t feel loved.

Everything that led up to her kneeling on Michael’s bedroom floor boiled down to that one simple fact.

She was a very pretty girl, but taller than most of the boys in her class. Her height and her shyness were enough to deter nearly all the boys in her school. About to enter her sophomore year of high school, Stephanie was starving for affection and had no idea where to find it.

Her mother, a cold avaricious shrew, wanted her daughter out of the house, and insisted that she participate in some sort of after-school activity.

Which is how Stephanie came to be a manager for the school football team, her first step on the path to Michael’s bedroom floor.

The position of manager has traditionally been filled by boys too scrawny or un-athletic to make the cut, but who still want to be part of the team. In the last twenty years, though, managers are often girls—sometimes even cute, popular girls.

Though they don’t dare admit it, coaches around the country are pleased with this new development.

The football coach at Stephanie’s high school, Richard “Dick” Mason, was no exception. While it seemed that boys her age did not appreciate the tall sophomore, Coach Mason sure did. His wife would be shocked to learn of it, but the middle-aged Negro owned a porn collection filled with slender blonde cuties. Being only fifteen, his new manager was even more fresh-faced and lovely than the girls in the videos.

Innocent young Stephanie had her own ulterior motives for becoming part of the football team—she desperately wanted boys to notice her. And not just any sort of boys.

Like most American teenagers, Stephanie was a product of pop culture. And because pop culture in America is heavily influenced by Black Culture, so was she. All those hip-hop songs and rap videos made a strong impression on the young teen.

Teenagers such as Stephanie imitate what they see and hear in pop culture. Thus, even nice suburban girls these days use expressions like “sexy as fuck.” Only thirty years ago that would have been unimaginable.

But then, sexting didn’t exist thirty years ago, either.

It wasn’t just the music that impressed the tall fifteen-year-old. Stephanie was not attracted to the Aryan-looking boys at her school, even though she had blonde hair herself. No, it was the black boys, with their low-slung jeans and gold jewelry who caught her eye.

That was especially true of the football players. Stephanie thought the blue-eyed quarterback was cute enough, but it was the black players who really made her heart beat faster—the rangy wide receiver, the powerful nose tackle, the fearsome trio of linebackers, their sculpted black bodies shining with sweat.

The shy fifteen-year-old wondered what her bitchy mom would say if she knew what kind of thoughts her daughter was having about the boys on the football team.

Stephanie had never masturbated to orgasm in her life, but after the first football practice she touched herself in the shower, imagining it was the big strong hands of the nose tackle which were touching her. It felt good, and she wanted more. When she returned to her bedroom, Stephanie carefully locked the door. Unwrapping her towel, the teenager gazed critically at her reflection in the mirror.

“I wish I had a sexy body,” she said to herself.

It was true that she had not yet developed much in the way of womanly curves, and it was one reason why the boys at school largely ignored her. But Stephanie’s body was sexy in less obvious ways. At five feet, ten inches tall, she had long, shapely legs. She was slender and well-proportioned. Her breasts were small and perky. Her body hair was fine and blonde, and there was very little of it.

Her best feature, though, was her skin. Stephanie had creamy white skin which suited her green eyes and blonde hair. Because she avoided the sun, Stephanie’s pale body had no tan lines—in fact, there was scarcely a mark or blemish of any kind.

Even so, Stephanie despaired that any boys would ever find her attractive. The lonely teenager lay on her bed and touched herself, trying to imagine the burly black football players, but she soon gave up. The shy virgin felt too awkward to relax and enjoy it.

Being a manager—a water carrier, in other words—for the football team was hard work, especially in the sweltering mid-August heat. Stephanie had worn shorts and a T-shirt the first day, and the shirt was drenched in sweat and clinging uncomfortably to her skin after an hour.

The next day at practice, dressed in black spandex volleyball shorts and a skimpy white tank, Stephanie suddenly found herself the center of attention. As she was handing out water during a break, one of the three linebackers struck up a conversation with her. His two mates quickly joined him.

By the end of practice that day, she had exchanged contact info with all three of the linebackers, plus the wide receiver.

Stephanie was in something of a daze as she pedaled her bicycle home from practice. Boys had noticed her! And not just any boys, but sexy black football players, the sort of guys that she imagined as she touched herself in the shower. How did it happen?

When she got home and looked in her bedroom mirror it was obvious. Her white tank top was soaked through with perspiration, and Stephanie’s nipples stood out noticeably. She could even see pink through the translucent fabric.

“Oh my god!” she said aloud. “They must think I’m a slut.”

In one afternoon she’d had more attention from boys than she’d had the whole previous year, and all because she’d accidentally looked provocative. Stephanie began pulling clothes from her dresser, already thinking about what she would wear to the next day’s practice.

Later that night, as Stephanie lay in bed texting one of her two close girlfriends, a new Snapchat alert appeared on her phone. It was from Michael, the first of the three linebackers who had spoken to her. She opened the photo and found him posing shirtless in front of a mirror. The text with the photo read, “I take off my shirt, you take off your shirt haha.”

A forbidden thrill ran through the teenager as she looked at Michael’s broad chest and six-pack abs. My god, he was gorgeous! But did he really expect her to send him a topless photo?

She wrote back, “I’ll think about it lol.”

Michael instantly replied, “Don’t think about it too long baby,” and a winking emoji face.

What to do? She was too shy, too insecure about her developing body to send him the kind of photo he wanted. After some experimenting in front of the mirror, she sent a photo wearing only her pajama bottoms but with one arm covering her immature breasts.

Michael replied, “Not a bad start. You fucking sexy.” This time the emoji had its tongue hanging out.

The virgin teenager found it hard to fall asleep that night.

The next day, Stephanie begged her mom for a ride to practice. The weather was even hotter and she didn’t want the boys to see her arrive on a bicycle.

“Oh all right,” Stephanie’s mother said, her tone even more petulant than usual. “But I’m going to be busy later so you need to find your own ride home.”

Michael and his friends started right in where they’d left off the day before, teasing and flirting. Their attention was like a drug to the young girl. She soaked it up, basked in it.

When she told the boys she needed a ride, Michael quickly volunteered. Stephanie was a bit tense after practice when they got in his car, a battered Honda. She’d never been alone with a boy before.

Once they were on the road he said, “Hey Steph, I hope you don’t mind but I need to stop at my place to let the dog out.”

“Um ... okay.”

His place was a seedy-looking townhouse in a seedy part of town. It was a mixed neighborhood of low-income, mostly black and immigrant families. Stephanie’s parents avoided it, and they had instructed her to avoid it.

When they went into the house after walking the dog, Michael offered her a cold drink. “I’m having a beer,” he said.

“Ew! Beer is gross. Wait—your parents let you drink beer?”

“It’s just my mom. Never met my dad. She don’t like it, but she ain’t gonna miss one beer.” Michael handed Stephanie a Coke which she accepted.

“C’mon, I’ll show you my room.”

Stephanie followed him down a dark hallway and into his hot, stuffy bedroom. He closed the door behind her and turned on a fan.

“It’s really hot,” she said. “Why don’t you use the AC?”

“My mom don’t like AC. Says it ain’t natural.” In fact, the air conditioner had broken down two years earlier and his mother could not afford to have it replaced.

“Uh, where is your mom?”

“Sleeping. She works at night. Won’t be up for two-three more hours.” He took a long drink before setting down his can of beer. “Damn, girl. You are fucking beautiful.”

Michael put his hands on her arms and indicated that she turn around. When her back was turned, Stephanie looked over her shoulder and caught him openly gaping at her rear end.

“Ohhh yeah,” he said under his breath. When she’d completed her turn and faced him again, he placed one hand on her shoulder and ran the other through her long straight hair.

“Steph,” he said, his voice low. “Have you ever been kissed?”

She was too nervous to speak. She just shook her head.

“How old are you, Steph?”

“Fif—fifteen,” she stammered.

“Don’t you think it’s about time?”

She managed to nod, barely.

Sinking his hand deeper into her hair, Michael pulled her face up to meet his. The first kiss was gentle.

“Girl, you have the softest lips I’ve ever kissed.”

Stephanie was flattered. She didn’t stop to wonder how many girls had stood there before. He kissed her again more urgently, slipping one arm around her waist and pulling her close. After a moment she felt the tip of his tongue between her lips.

She knew about French kissing of course, and it was not something that had appealed to her. But now, with the senior’s beery tongue in her mouth, Stephanie was overwhelmed by the pure sensuality of the act. Something in her mind seemed to let go, and she felt a gush of moisture between her legs. The youngster wrapped both arms around Michael and held him tight, feeling the heat and the power of his huge body.

He explored her mouth with his tongue while raking his fingers through her hair. She felt small and helpless in his arms. The blonde teenager hesitantly pushed her tongue into his mouth and he sucked on it.

Stephanie felt another gush between her legs.

They kissed for a good long time, their sweaty bodies molded together. Michael was slowly but deliberately grinding his pelvis against hers, and after a minute or two Stephanie realized that the hard lump she felt down there was his erect penis. Part of her wanted to touch it, while at the same time she wanted to run all the way back to her own safe neighborhood.

Finally breaking the kiss, Michael held her at arm’s length. Stephanie was fairly panting as she looked up at him, her lips parted.

“Fuck,” he said. “Steph, baby, you got me so worked up.” He took her hand and placed it on his hard cock. “See what I mean?” Michael moved her hand, encouraging her to stroke him. “That’s it. Up and down.”

He pulled her hair to one side and kissed her neck, making her gasp. With her hair around his fist, the big linebacker tilted her head back and licked her throat. “Keep moving your hand,” he said before kissing her mouth again.

Stephanie’s head was swimming and her body was aflame with so many new sensations. Her pussy was drenched. She could tell her underwear was soaked and she hoped it wouldn’t show through her blue spandex shorts.

Michael’s hands were at her waist now, and moving higher. His tongue was in her mouth again when she felt his fingers slide under the hem of her tank top. She put her hands on his arms to slow him down but it had no effect. He was much too strong and was not about to be discouraged.

In no time, his hands were on her breasts, squeezing them, kneading the soft flesh. She moaned into his mouth it felt so good. But when he twisted both nipples, the inexperienced teenager nearly fainted.

He seemed to know exactly how much pressure to apply, sending jolts of electricity straight to her sodden girl parts. Her pussy was demanding to be touched, and the young blonde ached for Michael to rub it for her the way she was rubbing his stiff dick.

He suddenly broke off their kiss. “Steph, I need you to take care of me. You’re so fucking sexy, baby, I’m gonna explode.”

He took a step back and pulled his T-shirt off. His huge pectoral muscles glistened with sweat, and Stephanie watched as a rivulet of perspiration ran down over his washboard abs. “You gotta take care of me, Steph,” he was saying. “I can’t take it no more.”

“But how...” She was genuinely unsure.

“Get down on your knees.”

Now she understood, but she was helpless to refuse. The shy teen was terrified by what she imagined would happen next, but thrilled that she’d had this effect on the handsome older boy. His sculpted physique appeared godlike to the impressionable youngster. Stephanie sank to her knees and watched him strip off his shorts, followed by his sweat-soaked underwear.

The pale-skinned teenager looked up at him as she stroked his dark meat, the first cock she’d ever seen or touched. Jesus, it’s huge, she thought.

“Give it a kiss now, baby,” he said. “Just a little kiss.”

Stephanie wasn’t dumb. She knew where this was going, knew that he wouldn’t be happy with just a little kiss. She was scared, but she wanted so badly to please him.

There was more of the clear fluid leaking from his cock, and she slathered it on her hands before kissing the head of his stiff member. It felt sticky on her lips and smelled powerfully of his sweat. She took the head of his cock into her mouth.

“Fuck yeah, baby. Stroke it while you suck it.”

Stephanie struggled at first to accommodate the bloated organ in her mouth. It seemed her lips were stretched to their maximum, and she thought she might gag at any moment. But Michael was groaning with pleasure, and the blonde teen was thrilled that she could please him.

Stephanie began to enjoy sucking his huge black dick.

After several minutes, the big linebacker began to pump his hips, trying to stuff more of his cock in her face. There was hardly room for her tongue and she moved it on the underside of his glans, trying to ease the discomfort.

“Oh fuck!” cried Michael. “Do that again! Yes, baby, keep doing that ... you’re gonna make me cum.”

In my mouth? Stephanie wondered. Is he really going to cum in my mouth?

She didn’t have to wonder for long.

Stephanie licked that spot as she stroked his thick shaft. Michael was rocking his pelvis forward and back, urging her to take him deeper. She fought to keep from gagging as the fat head was forced to the back of her throat. The youngster didn’t think she could handle any more and was about to pull his dick out of her mouth.

As if reading her mind, Michael grabbed her head with both hands, digging his fingers into her hair. “Here it comes,” he croaked. “Keep stroking, here it comes ... FUCK!”

Stephanie felt a blast of hot liquid splash her tonsils, then another. Her mouth was quickly filled and she swallowed. It was simply a reflex—when your mouth is full, you swallow. But it kept coming. Four, five, six more jets of hot cum in the pretty fifteen-year-old’s mouth. Stephanie couldn’t swallow fast enough, and it dribbled down her chin.

She looked up at Michael, as if she could beg him with her eyes to relent. But he wasn’t looking at her. His head was thrown back, his back arched.

At last it began to slow. The spurts of cum were smaller and less forceful. Stephanie managed to swallow what remained without choking. Michael eased his grip on her hair and looked down at her.

Her green eyes were wide and full of tears which threatened to spill onto her cheeks. The head of his cock was still in her mouth, her hands still around his shaft.

He smiled at her then. “Baby, that was fucking awesome. You’re amazing, and you look so beautiful right now.” He reached behind him for something on the dresser, and before Stephanie could protest he was taking a picture of her with his phone.

“Are you sure it was your first time? That thing you did with your tongue ... damn.”

Michael gently removed her hands from his cock so he could step away. With Stephanie still kneeling on the floor, he picked up his can of beer and drained it in one long pull. Then he set down his empty can and took another photo, now with an unobstructed view of the mess on her chin and down her chest.

Only then did the big athlete take her hand and help Stephanie to her feet. She thought he’d undress her now, and finally touch her throbbing pussy.

But just then a voice called from down the hall. “Mikey? Are you home?”

“Oh shit. That’s my mom. Here,” he said, handing her a towel. “You better clean up your face.”

He calmly picked up a pair of shorts from his bed and slipped them on, then a T-shirt. “Yeah, I’m here,” he called. “I got company.”

Stephanie went to the mirror and wiped the cum from her lips and chin. She cleaned up as much as she could from her chest, but it had soaked into her tank top leaving a very noticeable wet spot.

“Did you take the dog out?” the voice called.

“Yeah, mom.”

He nodded at Stephanie and opened the door. She was terribly uneasy about meeting his mother this way, her top still wet with his cum. Just then they heard a door close and water running.

Michael said, “Let’s go while she’s in the shower. You can meet her another time.” Stephanie breathed a sigh of relief as they went out.

As soon as he’d dropped her at home Stephanie went straight to her bedroom and shut the door. She squirmed out of her sweaty top and her spandex shorts. She examined her cotton bikini panties as she removed them—the crotch was apparently glued to her virgin pussy, and long streamers of sticky girl goo stretched from the sodden material as she peeled it away.

The blonde teen flung herself on the bed and began to rub her clit. It felt sooo good to touch her pussy at last. She used her own still-flowing honey as lubrication, her fingers going back and forth from her tiny opening to her swollen clit.

The pressure built quickly and Stephanie was determined to make it happen this time—she was going to have an orgasm.

A few minutes later it felt like she had reached a sort of pinnacle, but she couldn’t quite get over the top. Then she remembered what Michael had done, and she twisted a nipple with her free hand. In her mind, the shy teenager was imagining the linebacker’s chiseled ebony body, and that rivulet of sweat running down his abs.

“Uhhnnn,,, uhhnn ... uhnnn,” she cried, her body arching up off the mattress as she came. It was the most intensely pleasurable sensation she’d ever experienced. She instantly knew she’d want to repeat it, and soon.

Slowly, her body relaxed, and she was overtaken by a profound lethargy. Stephanie fell asleep there on her childhood bed, sweat still drying on her pale skin.

When she woke from her nap, Stephanie realized that the photos Michael had taken in his sweltering bedroom were a disaster waiting to happen. She quickly sent him a text.

“PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE don’t show those pics to anyone!!!” she wrote.

He didn’t reply for nearly an hour, during which time she fretted and stewed. When he finally answered, his response read: “Haha sure baby don’t worry.”

By the middle of practice the following day, Stephanie was convinced that Michael had betrayed her.

Virtually every black player on the football team, from star running back to lowly bench-warmer, approached and tried to chat her up. They were all smiling and looking at her face, as if expecting to find traces of Michael’s cum still on it.

The humiliation was nearly unbearable.

When Michael saw that she was crying, he led her down the sideline and put an arm around her. “Steph, baby, what’s the matter?”

“You know what’s the matter,” she blubbered. “All those guys hitting on me—you showed them the pictures!”

“Aw, baby, don’t be upset. I didn’t show nobody. They noticed I gave you a ride yesterday and thanks to me, they now realizing how cute and sexy you are.”

She looked into his eyes for any sign that he was lying but he held her gaze steadily. Was it possible he was telling the truth, and all those guys had suddenly taken a fancy to her? It seemed unlikely, but she wanted so much to believe him—the shy fifteen-year-old was utterly infatuated with the handsome linebacker.

“Listen, Steph. Me and a few of the boys going to Ronald’s house after practice to use his pool. He asked if you wanna go too.”

This was an invitation that Stephanie had been hoping for. Ronald’s father was a well-known attorney and it was said that his house was the largest and most luxurious in the entire county.

“Really?” she said. “He invited me?”

“Absolutely. He said, ‘Tell that cute blonde chick to come over, too.’”

It wasn’t much of an invitation, but then she could hardly expect an engraved card. “Okay, I’d like to go. But I don’t have a bathing suit with me.”

“No worries. We’ll stop on the way and I’ll buy one for you.”

Ten minutes after practice ended they were looking through racks of swimsuits at Wal-Mart. It would not have been Stephanie’s first choice, and she thought ruefully of her new Vera Bradley bikini which now lay useless in a drawer at home. Michael chose the skimpiest bikini he could find and they were soon back in his car.

Ronald’s house was hidden from the road by tall hedges. It was a large, overly grandiose structure with a porte-cochère and a circular drive. At least a dozen cars were parked in front of the house.

They did not go in through the imposing front doors. Michael led her around to the side of the house where a gate allowed entry to the pool area. There was a large pool house at the back, and the pool itself was huge and elaborate.

Michael was immediately surrounded by friends. Without a word of introduction or other niceties, he pointed Stephanie in the direction of the pool house. “You can change in there,” he said.

Stephanie did not stop and look at the pool or the people enjoying it. If she had, she might have noticed that she was the only female in sight. And the only guest who was not African American.

The pool house was nearly as large as her parents’ house, and it was certainly more luxurious. Swayed by the opulence of the place, Stephanie decided to take a shower. The marble-lined bath was nearly the size of her bedroom at home, and using it made her feel a bit like a princess.

When Stephanie left the bathroom in her cheap new bikini, she found Michael and Ronald in the living room. Both of them were shirtless and sipping cold drinks.

Ronald was a member of the football team, but he was far from being a star player. Stephanie was not attracted to him at all. For one thing, he was shorter than she was, and rather on the chubby side. Even so, the sophomore did not forget her manners.

“Thank you for inviting me to your beautiful home.”

“Sure thing, baby. Here, I poured an orange crush for you,” said Ronald, handing her a tall glass.

“Thanks,” she said, and took a sip. “Mmmm, that’s good!”

There was an awkward pause. Stephanie was thirsty, so she quickly drank most of the vodka-laden crush. After a moment, Ronald said, “Okay, I’ll leave you two alone. See you later, bro.” He winked at Michael on his way out.

“Goddam, you look fucking sexy in that,” said Michael as soon as his friend had gone. His eyes devoured the younger teen’s long legs and milky white skin. The bikini bra made the most of her small breasts.

“Really?”

Suddenly feeling frisky, Stephanie did a little pirouette for him. “Do you like it?”

“Yes, I do.”

He wrapped his arms around her, and Stephanie was made aware once again of how big he was—at least a head taller, and close to a hundred pounds heavier. After being shunned for years because of her height, she liked feeling small.

She tipped her head back to look at him.

“Such beautiful eyes,” he said, making Stephanie blush. “And lips,” he added, kissing her.

The tender kiss soon turned passionate, their tongues playing tag in each other’s mouths.

“I didn’t get to see you naked yesterday,” Michael said when they broke the kiss. “Time to change that.”

He took Stephanie’s hand and led her out of the room, pausing along the way to grab a pitcher of orange crush off the bar. “We might get thirsty,” he said.

“I’m thirsty now,” Stephanie said with a laugh and held out her glass. “This stuff is so good.”

When she’d drunk half of it, Michael led her to a bedroom and held the door for her politely. Stephanie had a pretty good idea what he had in mind, but she wasn’t about to let her fear win out. The shy virgin was ready to do anything the big linebacker wanted.

She didn’t notice that he left the door slightly ajar.

Michael took the drink from her hand and set it on a bedside table. As the slim adolescent stood in the center of the room, he walked in a complete circle around her, examining her from every angle. That short walk made Stephanie feel more desirable than she’d ever felt in her life.

When he was standing behind her, Michael lifted her damp hair and kissed her neck. He then untied the strings that held her bra in place. A shiver ran through her body as he removed it. She felt vulnerable and exposed. With his hands on her waist, the big football player nibbled her neck some more.

The virgin teen’s juices began to flow.

Stephanie felt his fingers at her waistband and he began to lower her bikini bottom very, very slowly. When it was still only halfway down her ass he paused to savor the view.

“Damn, baby. Wow...”

Stephanie looked back at him over her shoulder and smiled. “Do you like what you see?”

“Fuck yeah, I do.” He put a thick arm around her waist and kissed her bare shoulder. Stephanie could feel his hardness and another shiver ran through her body.

After a minute he released her and finished taking down her bikini bottom. Michael wrapped his arms around her again, but now something was different—he had removed his shorts and his hot, hard cock pressed against her naked flesh.

Michael’s hands roamed all over her body, from her throat to her breasts to her thighs, but he still hadn’t touched her where she wanted it most. Her pussy was begging for attention and the virgin teenager was starting to get frustrated.

He was pressed against her back when Stephanie felt something warm slide between her upper thighs. When she opened her legs a little wider, it sprang up and hit her pussy with a little smack.

“Oh my!” she giggled and looked down.

A few inches of his lengthy member stuck out in front of her. But for the striking contrast in color, it almost appeared to be part of Stephanie’s own body. The throbbing organ was leaking pre-cum, and she knew what to do. Wetting her fingers with the slippery stuff, the youngster stroked his cock gently.