I’ll Take It Black – “Big Apple = Big Bite(s): A Tale of Two Cousins”


I was coming up on 2 years in VA and had yet to visit New York. What a disgrace, right? Lucky for me, everyone wants to go there, including two of my favorite, ex co workers from WA. Randomly messaging me one day with details of an all paid for, “you must be here!” trip. The three of us were trouble individually, but as a group, we are a force to be reckoned with. I immediately agreed. Having no idea what was about to happen that weekend, but fully aware that it’d be fuckery.

Jump to 2 months later, when I found myself taking the overnight, $60 round trip bus, to Time Square. Which would mean showing up in the dead of morning if I were anywhere else, but not in New York. The city was awake and wild, bustling with business people and naked women with painted bodies, alike. My friends were just as ready, rolling right out of bed to take “good morning shots” of Patron. It was no time before we were hitting the pavement for a day of exploring, shopping, site seeing, you name it.


My friends are hustlers, like, at its finest. Finesse queens, you could even say. So there was little surprise to the fact that they somehow had NY connects. Arranging for some men they “know” (a friend of a friend of a friend type shit) to take us out that evening. Showing up in a souped up BMW and expensive clothes, these guys were on a mission to impress. Not that any of us would really remember much past dinner, though that might’ve been the intent.

They paid for everythinggg, dinner, drinks, club entrance, etc. Taking us to a expensive sushi spot followed by a secluded rooftop bar. It was all very “fancy” and were LIT. Like, heels swaying, drink spilling, no fucking way this man should be driving us home, lit. Having already hung with one of the guys for a majority of the evening, it was unspokenly decided that he’s who I’d be fucking. Panties wet and dick hard, we stumble from the car, up the stairs, right into the bedroom. His cousin, left to hang sadly in the living room with my very much taken, and equally uninterested, friends.


It started out pretty normal, slapping my ass and pulling my hair as he hit it from behind. He was fucking me right, making it worth the wait of the evening that had just unraveled. He flips me over to face him, then leans low and wraps his arms around me tightly. “I fucking love you!” he whispers, then follows up with a hard bite to my collarbone. Then many more bites to my neck, chest, arms, really just my overall upper half. Confused, but also slightly turned on, I rock with it. How much damage can he really do?

He stands up, boxers in one hand and a cum filled condom in the other, followed by, “Hold on babe, I’ll be right back.” “Whatever,” I reply, already falling into a drunken, dick induced coma. “His turn around time is fast,” I think as he crawls back into bed mere moments later. Dick pressed against me, ready to go “again”. Something was off. Even drunk I could recognize the difference in both, body and dick size. “You’re not the guy I just fucked,” I state bluntly. Not as a denial of the new dick being presented, but a clarification that I controlled this situation. Stupid little bitch(es).


The following morning I wake up to an empty bed, almost as if it were a dream. Excited to tell my friends the story of the fuckboys, I wrap a sheet around myself and head into the living room. My friends faces filling with concern immediately. “What the fuckkk happened to you?!” Now I’m confused. “…Just go look in the mirror,” one of them advises. All I see is bruises. Bruises everywhere. My friend in the other room shouting, “I’m about to text him! Fucking crazy ass, who does that? Who bites someone like that?!” All I can think is how I look like I was in a fight or very much publicly claimed. Either way, I didn’t like feeling like someone’s “marked territory”.

Alright, so maybe I didn’t win this one after all. It’s cool NY, next time, you just wait.

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