I live with this alone and do not share it. When I was in college I had a job as a night bus boy in a small Mexican restaurant. The cook, Arnoldo, or Art to us white boys, was heavy and dark and menacing. One day he grabbed me, and I could not tear away, he grabbed me and did not let go and told me to suck his dick. His dick was already out of his pants. Fear took over and I froze, unable to act. His voice magnified in my mind, telling me to kneel down. On my knees his dick was in my face. A big dark work of a dick. As he put his dick in my open mouth something took over. I closed my mouth around his dick and started to run my tongue around it. He held my head so I couldn't move and thrust in and I had to let his deck go in further in my mouth. I had my mouth full, and I couldn't spit it out. He was hard and I hadn't noticed, shoving his dick into my mouth, relaxing and shoving in a again. He got his dick past my tongue and shoved his dick down my throat. I gagged, felt like I was going to vomit. He did not let go, did not stop, I gagged on his dick in my throat.
He pulled out and let me spit on the floor. He told me that when I had his dick in my mouth I sucked on his dick, licked on his dick, kissed his dick, showed his dick the respect it deserved, or he was going to shove his dick down my throat again. I sucked dick, I mean I really sucked dick, held his dick with my hand and sucked on his dick, licked his dick, kissed his dick. I think, for the first time in my life, I made love to living flesh, I made love to his dick.
He told me to stand up, and lower my pants and lean over the work table and he got behind me with his dick. I knew what he was going to do, I wasn't that naive. He rubbed his dick up my crack and got a finger of something and shoved his finger up my ass. Then his dick, he shoved his dick in, shoved until it was all in, then with the hunger for passion he fucked me over and over, I held onto the work table, and Art fucked me good. Until he came and pulled his dick out and cleaned it on a rag. I was now Art's fuck boy, and Art fucked me a lot, I went to Art's apartment to suck on his dick, to let him suck on mine, to fuck me on his bed. To just lay around naked.
I worked there and after I quit I still went to Art's place. Not because of anything he scared me with, but because I wanted him to have sex with me, to let me suck on his dick, to lay around naked with him. By then we were kissing, and caressing. By then we were making love. By then Art was the only thing on my mind.