African Prince : Chapter 1

100% fiction!

As Mikey mechanically got off the high school bus and turned toward his house he mentally kicked himself for missing his stop again. The monotony of six years of high school and a year and a half of junior high had given
him an uncanny ability to zone out and disappear into his own fantasy world. Unfortunately this ability  reared its head regularly, wanted or not. For the  hundredth time he reassured himself that it was no big  deal. He would walk an extra half mile or so today.

As Mikey walked, still in the fog that had caused him
to miss his stop, he kicked rocks and sticks and any
other targets that happened to come in range of his
foot without forcing him to break stride. What was
really on his mind however was the erection that had
sprung on him during his bus ride, thinking about his
neighbor Julie Osbourne. He thought she was the cutest
girl in school and he kept imagining all sorts of
things.

Julie had moved into his neighborhood two years
earlier. Although she lived right down the street from
Mikey and was always especially nice to him in school,
he was just too shy to talk to her on his own after
school. They often talked in high school and she was
downright flirtatious with him at times. Although he
enjoyed this immensely, his shyness was overpowering.
He always wanted to further the relationship, but he
could only manage to do so in his fantasies.

Perhaps his shyness arose from the fact that he felt so
out of place in his small, white, largely Christian
town. Mikey's Mom was African from Kenya and his father
had been of Native American descent. His Mom was a
deeply spiritual person, but this quality seemed to
Mikey to come out as eccentricity. The house was
thoroughly decorated with African and Native American
art. To Mikey it was all just a reminder of how
different his house was from everyone else's in town.

Trying to think of other things, Mikey managed to get
his erection down to a softer, controlled, less visible
phenomena before he entered the house. His Mom had
baked some cookies for him - the closest thing to junk
food he ever found at home. He gobbled the cookies down
one by one, pausing only for intermittent gulps of
milk.

"I've got to go to the bank and run some errands,
honey," his Mom said in her sweet motherly voice.

Even though he was embarrassed of his Mom's
eccentricity and sometimes even her race, Mikey loved
his mother dearly and he felt closer to no one else. He
had only a couple of vague memories of his father. He
was killed by a policemen when Mikey was a small child.
His mother believed the policemen had killed her
husband out of mistaken identity, brutality, or racism.

Regardless of the reason, to cover up their crime the
policemen had planted a gun and a large bag of cocaine
on her husband. He was a strong man and a good husband,
and with justice never having been served nearly ten
years later it still tore her up inside.

"Okay," Mikey replied, hiding his genuine happiness
that she was going out. He would have a chance to take
care of his horniness at last. Still sitting at the
kitchen table, his erection started to swell again, and
he pulled his tee-shirt down to be sure his Mom
couldn't see the bulge. He waited and watched as she
got her purse and keys together and finally went out
the door with the final words, "I'll be back in a
little bit."

As soon as the door closed behind her, Mikey got up and
walked to the bathroom. He retrieved a handful of
tissues and proceeded upstairs to his room. He was
quite paranoid of being caught, and on his way by
locked the front door to slow his Mom down if she came
home sooner than expected. As he entered his room, he
closed the door firmly behind him, pulled all the
shades in his room, and got naked.

There was something energetic and erotic about just his
own nakedness and especially so with sexual thoughts
about Julie racing through his head at a phenomenal
rate. He laid down on his bed, his erection
unbelievably complete. The skin on his penis was so
taught that the slightest touch by his own hand sent a
shiver through him. He couldn't believe how charged up
he was. It seemed his erection was bigger and harder
than it ever had been before.

As thoughts of Julie naked, smiling, running her hands
across his bare chest filled his mind, he began to
slowly stroke. Mikey forced his imagination to back
step the encounter with her. He liked to imagine the
seduction, the kissing, the removal of clothing, the
sucking of nipples, eating her out, her giving him
head, and not until he was ready to blow did he reach
the ultimate fantasy of sinking his dick into her. One
by one he proceeded through vivid mental images of the
encounter, stroking himself slowly, forcing himself to
slow or stop when he felt close to the edge.

Although Mikey had only been masturbating for about a
year, he had mastered the technique of bringing himself
to mind-blowing ecstasies. Whenever he masturbated he
tried to make it the best he could. He had realized
early, the sacred rule of masturbation. There is no
point in rubbing yourself raw for a mediocre reward; If
you're going to do it, do it right.

His Mom's spirituality and her philosophical of
strength had made him a perfectionist in many
respects. Mikey's upbringing was both solid and
chaotic. His Mom was truly a role model, and internally
Mikey was strong like her. But when it came to dealing
with the external world, socially, Mikey faltered in
embarrassment and fear.

Mikey's stiff little prick was oozing pre-cum at a
prodigious rate. Meanwhile, Julie had just planted her
first kiss upon the head of his penis. He had a crystal
clear vision of her wrapping her lips around just the
head of his penis as she looked into his eyes. He
removed his hand from his penis momentarily as this
image was just too much to hold out any longer. It was
too late.

He began sliding his open fist up and down the length
of his penis faster than ever as he imagined plunging
into her from behind. Julie on all fours; Perky breasts
shooting down toward the bed that they were on; Her
cries piercing the air as she screamed his name in
passion. As he began to spew, the first blast of cum
landed on his stomach.

Images began to race through his head. The second, much
more powerful blast landing in a line running across
his left nipple. His thoughts raced from Julie to a
thousand other sexual desires. Another, slapped across
the center of his chest and landing at the base of his
neck. Images of girls and women from every aspect of
his life. He saw his cum splashing on the face of his
best friend's older sister. A fourth shot of cum hit
the underside of his chin.

He saw Mrs. Andersen, his biology teacher, bare-
chested; his cum dripping from her mouth; she rubbed it
into her tits. And he spewed and spewed and spewed and
it splashed across his chest. He saw Amy Christians
sliding her pink and wet and smooth and naked pussy
down the length of his dick; she still holding her
cheerleading pom-poms.

A jet of cum hit him in the face. He saw his Mom; he
saw her face; he saw her smooth wet lips accentuate her
mouth; she wore her favorite headband - yellow and
black and distinctly African; she wore her favorite
dress - red and black and yellow and wrapped loosely
but sculpted to her chest; her breasts, large,
perfectly rounded; he saw a hint of cleavage; and he
slid his dick between her tits!!

Mikey's penis fell limp and lifeless and his hand fell
away beside it. Even as the orgasm still tingled
through his body, he felt guilty for what he'd done.
His mother? Where had that come from? He'd never had a
sexual thought about her in his life. Yet as if he had
dedicated some sexual memorial to her, his last
masturbatory image had been of her.

The guilt grabbed his hand and reached the tissues and
tried to wipe him clean of what he'd done. Cum had
dripped off his chest, his neck, his face and now his
bed was nothing for his Mom to make. He bundled up the
bedspread put it in his closet, grabbed a towel, and
got into the shower.

As the hot water began to rinse him clean, he relaxed a
little. "No big deal. A freak thought entered my mind
in the throes of passion."

Mikey washed himself thoroughly head to toe, and the
more he washed the better he felt. He shut off the
water, dried himself, wrapped a towel around himself
and headed for his room.