Fiction by “The Chocolate Romantic”

Here’s the deal: Two hawt, hung, and horny star-crossed lovers split up but are trying to find their way back to each other. However, they fall into steamy sexual situations that may derail their reunion! Follow this continuing saga to see where their “sin-sational” journey ultimately leads them.

 Chapter One

 Ever wanted a man so much that you constantly fantasized about how good he’d taste and how good he’d feel as he pressed his rock-hard body against yours? And, have you ever CRAVED a man so badly that you dreamed about him each and every night…and thought about him almost each and every moment?

 Well, that’s Warren Kenneth Taylor’s story. He’d nevah wanted a man as much as he wanted Rodney:  a 32-year-old stud who moved into his condo complex sometime after he’d kicked out his younger lover Khalil, who had smoldering eyes, a gym bod, and a classic bubble-butt. Yeah, the young brother was a real rump roast! And oh, how Warren enjoyed tenderizing that juicy, round, prime slab of beef.

Warren, however, caught Khalil cheating, and he had to go. Besides, Warren’s being daddy all the time was wearing mighty thin!

Shit. Hell, sometimes…just sometimes… he needed daddying himself!

Born and raised in Louisa, a small town in Virginia not far from the state capitol of Richmond, Warren was a studly “country boy” with a great sense of humor.   This medium-brown-skinned brotha had most of those old-fashioned morals and values and carried around a heart as big as a valley. When Warren was involved with that significant other, he believed in being fully committed to and monogamous with that man.

At 49, Warren maintained a well-muscled physique that continued to turn heads—a sturdy, hairy upper body, hugely thick thighs, diamond calves, and a delightfully round, scrumptious bootay. Also, being ruggedly handsome, with a short-cropped beard dusted with just the right amount of gray, didn’t hurt! Warren had that very masculine, in-control look.

Well, his cool was shattered to pieces when he saw the broad back and shoulders of the beefy, very confident, 6’3”, 240-pound mountain of a man named Rod, who was moving into the apartment next to his. Possessing muscles formed like boulders, he had massive forearms and thick, well-kept hands. Warren had a flash of “The Bruh” (Rod) palming his ass, then aggressively and thoroughly probing his quivering asshole! (And ever sooooo deeply!)

Warren thought to himself, “Gawd, it’s been so long since a pair of truly masculine hands squeezed and plundered my tight butthole!”

Suddenly, though, Warren felt like Rufus B. Doofus! Staring at The Bruh so intensely, he tripped over a box, and his 5’10”, 188-pound frame went SPLAT-A-DAT!

Spinning around, Rod, who had caramel skin, a shaved head, and a neatly trimmed ‘stache and goatee, gazed at the mortified man with piercing eyes.

The Bruh was wearing a purple tee, black work boots—and, most interestingly, thin, well-worn sweats. Warren spied the outline of Rod’s humongous dick, which curved to the right.

And, it was growing! Expanding. Lengthening. Where Mr. Chocolate Sausage would end UP, Warren had no idea!

Now flashing a brilliant, engaging, and “sexy-naughty” smile, The Bruh asked, “Yo, dude! Are you okay?”  Daymn! Warren was knocked out by Rod’s deep, bass bedroom voice.

Next, The Bruh extended his meaty right hand, which the fallen Warren grasped. Eagerly.

Ending up oh-so-close to the Big Man, Warren could smell the intermingling of cologne and sweat. The experience was heady, to say the least. “Earth to Warren, earth to Warren….”

Utterly flustered, he managed, “Uh, thanks…I’m…uh…Warren Taylor, your next-door neighbor.”

“Sorry about my stuff strewn every which way,” The Bruh responded. “Yo, I’m Rodney…Rodney Campbell.”

Immediately picking up on Warren’s attraction, Rod asked softly, “Are you okay…babe?”

“Babe?!!”  Hmmmmmmmm…..

Po’ Warren! He was thinking, “Okay??? Fuck, I haven’t been okay since I threw Khalil out on his sweet, luscious ass after I caught him servicing two of my gym buddies in what I thought was ONLY our bed!”  You see, a month ago, the thoroughly agitated bro decided to cut his business trip short to pleasantly surprise his younger lover.

However, as it turned out, the surprise was on him! 

It was like a dagger to the heart. 

You see, Khalil was being royally fucked doggy style by Mac, a Hispanic about as short as he was. As solidly built as a Mack truck, Mac (hence, the name!) was wrapping his powerful legs around Warren’s lover, repeatedly and fluidly pumping his healthy, juicy, twitching, rock-hard slab of meat in and out, in and out of Khalil’s chunky, compact ass! The “Macster’s” small but thick hands were squeezin’ and strokin’ every inch of his bottom’s deliciously built frame.

And all the while, Khalil was busy gittin’ busy himself, hungrily sucking the wide, bigheaded 10-inch blow pop of Malik, a Black bisexual stud. Khalil’s full lips had to S-T-R-E-T-CH wide open to cover Malik’s pole. And as that brown sausage disappeared down Warren’s lover’s throat, Mac thrust his rod even deeper into the young brotha’s willing, hot, and hungry hole—which had become so slippery wet…and pliable!

This scene made Warren’s blood boil! Such an egregious betrayal.

However, the shocked and irate man had to admit that this fuckfest was fuckin’ erotic and raw as all get out! And that was because Warren had developed a nagging urge, which in turn had morphed into a burning desire, to be smack dab in the middle of a threethang.

However, homeboy had never acted on that yearning, which tugged and pulled at him more times than he could forget. And now, Khalil, the 5’5”, 158-pound chocolate-drop cutie, was doing the same thang that continuously and relentlessly played in his head. And it seemed like the short, buffed stud couldn’t get enough of those phat schlongs that were probing, exploring, and filling up both his enthusiastic, juiced-up holes.

Warren wondered, “Why is my baybee doing this to me? WHY??? I know I travel for the job a little more than I’d like, but really! If he wanted to have a ménage a Trois, why not invite me along for the ride, goddammit!!!”

The wounded and lost guy was not okay! Far from it.

And now, Rodney’s eyes settled on his new neighbor’s now-raging hard-on. Warren stammered, “Do…do you need any help? Uh, I mean, moving in?”

Shining his megawatt grin, The Bruh retorted, “No, but thanks, bro! I’m just about done.”

Then Rod added, “However, I reserve the right to call on you for…other types of assistance!” 

Poor Warren! He could have shot a load right then and there.

To Be Continued. Mos’ def!