Doing the White Boy by Gia Blue

Chapter One
     
    Gay men must have the best orgasms. At
least, that’s what I figure, from reading about the infamous P-spot
in a guy’s ass. And hey, gay guys get dicks shoved up there all the
time, and they love the feeling, right?
    I want it.
    I just need to find a way.
    My search has brought me to
Darcy’s Debauchery Emporium, and having such an off-the-wall name,
it’s hard for me to believe that this place does any business.
Hell, I’m even
embarrassed to go inside.
    Except I do. ‘Cause I’m a man with a
plan.
    But I’m totally not gay.
    Really.
    I love tits and pussy, and the feel of
a woman’s curves. For me, the more the better, actually.
    So, yeah…why am I here
again?
    The bell on the door jingles when I
tug it open; I’m immediately greeted by the soft sounds of jazz
playing through overhead speakers. That, and more shocking pink and
slut-red colors than I’ve ever seen in one place.
    Now normally, I’d get all hot and
bothered if I happened to be in the presence of a woman wearing
these revealing outfits made of silk and lace, but hanging from a
rack, eh, not so much.
    Now, I could be a complete pussy and
creep around the store to hunt up the dildo that’ll be my
introduction to my very first butt sex…or as I’ve heard other refer
to it, as buttsecks.
    The thing is…I’m not a pussy. So,
standing tall and proud I stride toward the back, right up to the
mocha-hued woman working behind the counter. She’s hot, and gifted
with really big tits. And her outfit reveals just enough of her
cleavage to make me want to bury my face between her breasts and
taste every inch of her smooth, chocolaty skin. To see if she
tastes as good as she looks. I’m betting she does.
    She straightens as I
approach, displaying more of her curves to me—her tapered waist and
the stunning flare of her hips. Damn. I so want to ask her out—see if
I can tempt her into doing something more… I mean, other than
selling me a sex toy.
    I glance at her nametag and smile,
earning one in return. “Hi, Evy…Davis. I’m hoping you can help
me?”
    Up close, the woman’s even hotter than
I’d originally thought. Her lips are a juicy, berry red, and her
eyes are a pale brown, like summer wheat.
    Wow, look at me being all poetic and
shit.
    “ Absolutely. What’re you
looking for today? We’ve got sales throughout the store on
clothing, shoes, massagers, and um…penetrative aids.”
    I can’t hold back, not even if I
wanted to. I burst into laughter, snort, and then finally cool my
fit with a manly cough. Pounding the center of my chest with the
top of my fist, I confirm, “Ahem. Penetrative aids?”
    Her face remains a pleasant mask, the
professional demeanor of a model employee firmly intact as she nods
at me. “Yes, sir.”
    Her cool attitude makes me want to
ruffle her up a little, break through that work façade of hers.
Catch her off-guard and see if she blushes. All over.
    “ Okay, then. I guess I do
need assistance…with penetrative aids.”
    Her smile turns into a smirk as she
moves from behind the counter. “Right this way, sir.”
    Sir. Huh. God, she keeps calling me
that and she can’t be more than a year or two younger than me, my
best guess putting her at twenty-three, or twenty-four. That formal
term is making me feel kinda old.
    I follow her through the store, with
my focus locked on to the swaying of her hips and the curves of her
large ass. An ass I’d love to sink right into, slide my cock
between those luscious cheeks of hers. Show her what this white-boy
can do, like give it to her nice and hard while I spank her butt,
have her screaming my name until she comes.
    Fuck me if my dick doesn’t just twitch
in my jeans, going half hard almost instantly. I reach down to
shift “Billy and the Boys,” in order to get more comfortable. Add
in the fact that I’m here to get my ass fucking on, and my cock is
throbbing by the time I catch up to Evy in the “penetrative aids”
aisle.
    “ Here we