Kyle was the neighborhood bully, a 6’2″ wigger jock who had the body of a linebacker, and was at least five or six years younger than me. He sat beside my girlfriend, and adjacent to Geoff, a college kid we hired at our workplace as an intern. Geoff was about 5’7”, stocky and preppy. Once Geoff started hanging out with Kyle, Geoff developed somewhat of a bully mentality.
What Did the Wigger Jock Do to My Girlfriend Under the Blanket?
Kyle could never stay out of trouble. Everyone in the neighborhood knew he sold weed, was arrested for possession of a firearm, and did some jail time for trafficking. And this was all before he turned 20.
Kyle sat across from me, staring with eyes of intimidation, though I did my best not to show his effect on me. He could see the fear in my eyes each time he looked at me. He was making me feel like an inferior to him in my own goddamn apartment.
My girlfriend, also several years younger than me and a couple of years older than Kyle, sat beside him, unable to stay still, her body withering the more the wigger jock’s right arm jerked. A big sofa pillow covered her lap and most of her body. She might have been way out of my league, but sitting next to Kyle, she looked like a trophy sitting next to the alpha male of the room.
For more pics in this series see “Brutal Tops: Borstal Bukkake Humiliators“.
My girlfriend was making faces the more Kyle’s arm moved. Her legs were twitching, and at one point, she kicked her legs in mid-air, spreading them as she exhaled. I knew what the neighborhood wigger was doing to the love of my life under that blanket. Kyle made eye contact with me the entire time, knowing I didn’t have the balls to stop him. The audacity of this punk kid, bullying me and having his way with my girlfriend in my own apartment, on my own couch. I was feeling so many conflicted emotions that I was paralyzed in my seat. I didn’t want to stop him…or was I afraid to stop him?
When my girlfriend got up, she didn’t make eye contact with me, looking guilty as she adjusted her dress and walked into the kitchen. Kyle was watching me observing her, and when my eyes met his, he spoke loud enough to hear, but quiet enough that my girlfriend couldn’t.
“I’m gonna take all this away from you, faggot.” The wigger jock said to me, eyeing around my apartment.
When My Girlfriend Walked Away, the Wigger Jock Told Me to Sniff His Finger
It was normal for Geoff to hang out at our place when he was interning at our company. He had dinner with my girlfriend and I in our apartment on many occasions, and often drove him to work if he slept on our couch after a late night. I helped him out when I could because I liked the kid, as did my girl. But when Kyle and him became tight, Geoff’s attitude towards me seemed to be more dominant, more assertive. The things I was doing for him as favors began to be expected of me. For instance, when he came over for dinner, Geoff scolded me for not having it ready by the time he arrived. He would dump a bag of his dirty laundry at my place, with a scheduled finished time written on a note inside. Even though I was offended that I wasn’t being asked to do favors for him anymore, I still did what I could for him, and certainly didn’t think any less of him.
My intern became very comfortable bossing me around in my own home.
I came home one day to find Geoff and Kyle on my couch, chilling with my girl. This was the first time Kyle and I were ever in the same place at the same time. Kyle seemed irritated by me once I joined the three of them, like I was being a buzzkill. Him being a guest in my home was not even a factor.
For more pics in this series see “Brutal Tops: Borstal Bukkake Humiliators“.
Geoff and Kyle motioned for the door to each other once I sat down to join the trio in my living room. I rose up when they did, intending to be a gracious host and show them out. My girlfriend took a moment to use the bathroom, and as I got up, Kyle put his big hand on my head and pushed me back down to my seat. I was at eye-level with his crotch, amazed at the bulge in his baggy jeans. He grabbed my chin and pulled my head up, so I was looking down up at him. I sat there, timid and trembling at the big athletic wigger before me, wondering what he was going to do.
Kyle took his index finger and wiped it under my nose, and above my lip. His finger was wet, somewhat sticky. It smelled familiar, but I couldn’t point out what that aroma was. Kyle left his finger under my nose long enough for me to take a whiff of it. He wanted me to know what his finger smelled like for some reason. When he saw the confusion in my face, he laughed (at me?), and smacked my cheeks a few times with his big football-catching hand, passive-aggressively. I found his demeanor to be very disrespectful.
“Told ‘ya he wouldn’t recognize the scent.” Kyle said to Geoff, while laughing down at me. “Fuckin’ faggot.”
Kyle grabbed my head and ordered me to take a whiff of his sneaker
Kyle grabbed his sneakers and slipped one on his left foot, then grabbed his right shoe and held it up to my face, so that my nose and mouth could only breath in the scent of the sweat in his sneaker. Geoff was laughing while the wigger jock grabbed the back of my head and pushed my face into the opening of his running shoe.
“Take a bigger whiff, homo.” Kyle shouted at me, while my intern giggled away.
The more I struggled to break away, the stronger the sinister wigger’s grip on my head became. I felt like a kitten being picked on by a bulldog.
For more pics in this series see “Hardkinks: Berlin Love Story“.
My Intern and His Wigger Jock Buddy Bossed Me Around Front of My Girlfriend
After making a fool of me, Kyle slipped his other shoe on and thumbed to a bag sitting on the floor besides Geoff’s. Apparently Geoff told him what I good job I did with his laundry that Kyle wanted me to do his, too. He didn’t instruct me to clean his clothes, nor did he explain why he thought I would. He just gave me his address and told me I could come by after 7:00 pm the next day to drop them off. When I said, sarcastically, if he wanted them folded too, he lunged at me without striking me, making me flinch, causing Geoff to laugh at me once again.
“You gettin’ lippy with me, faggot?” He said, getting in my face.
“No!” I yelped, making the wigger jock smirk. “Not…not at all, man!”
“My underwear and my socks are in that bag.” Kyle said, pointing to his dirty clothes. “I want them hand-washed.”
“You can’t be serious.” I replied, incredulously. That earned me another lunge, and Kyle was right back in my face.
“Dude.” Geoff said to Kyle. “I just realized…should we trust this guy with our socks and laundry? I mean, that’s what these faggots do, right? What if he beats off with them?”
For more pics in this series see “Brutal Tops: School Assembly Surviving Jail“.
“I can’t believe you would even suggest such a thing.” I said to Geoff, turning my head to him while Kyle was still staring me down. I hated the fact that Geoff was talking about me, right beside me.
“He’s not jerking off to your sweat socks, Geoff.” My girlfriend said amused as she came out of the bathroom. “I think I would know if my boyfriend was gay.”
I eagerly went over to my girlfriend to kiss her on the cheek, but her head moved just as my lips were about to make eye contact with her skin. She had the same idea, but instead, gave a kiss on Kyle’s cheek. I embarrassingly walked back to the living room while she showed the boys out.
After noticing my girlfriend absent for a few minutes, I peeked my head out the door and caught Kyle’s hand around her waist. The wigger whispered something in her ear that made her laugh. Kyle saw me from his peripheral vision and looked in my direction with a smirk. I chose to scurry back inside and out of his sight, looking at the bag of dirty laundry, a pair of men’s dirty white sweat socks at the top of the bag. I found it peculiar that the scent coming from those dirty socks was far more appealing to me than whatever the scent was on Kyle’s wet finger.