Erotic Story Contribution by our very own D.O.C.!
The views and expressions of this story do NOT reflect the views & reflection or the Men of ONYX, Inc but solely of the author of the article!

I did my best not to stare too long, but I believe he and everyone else peeped me before I could look away. "Uh, yeah, I was just telling your assistant manager that I had just rented this video a little more than an hour ago, but it isn't very good and I was hoping to exchange it for something better."

"May I see it?" he asked. Vanessa reluctantly handed Mr. Nuff the video and rolled her eyes at the both of us as she turned and walked away, doing her best upset white girl routine, flicking her hair at us. "My apologies for my staff. It's been a long day."

Good excuse if I was somebody who didn't know better, I thought. For some reason I immediately felt comfortable around him because I started talking slang in my next sentence. "It's a'ight, customer service is a tough job. I used to do it when I was a lowercase 'g'."

"You're right, this is a terrible flick. I watched it last month and was glad I didn't have to pay for it."

Now I knew he was family

"Seeing as how you're the manager. I don't expect you pay for any rentals."

"Correct again, my large friend."

"I ain't that big, bruh."

"Come with me and let's see if I can find a suitable replacement."

"Thanks, man." I responded. He led the way to the back room where all the straight, bi and gay porno flicks were stacked. He immediately walked to the gay section and pulled one with several brothers leaning against a wall with nothing but jock straps and boots on. The title read 'The Pledges of Gamma Beta Mu'. As he handed me the box I caught a whiff of his musky scent. As if the sight of him wasn't enough to make my shit rise.
"What kinda of flick is that?" I asked.

"It's brand new with J.C. Carter and Tyson Blake. We just got this in about a week ago."

"Yeah, that brother J.C. got it goin' on for real. Brother so damn phoine he make you wanna go home and slap his daddy."

"I wouldn't mind getting with Blake myself. He probably could have been the next Bobby Blake if he wasn't a bottom."

"What! Tyson Blake is a bottom?"

"Yeah, I have several videos in my collection where Blake is getting done." I'd like to check out that collection and toss your cookies while I'm at it.

"Sounds like you've got a pretty decent selection."

"It doesn't hurt to be the manager of a video rental store."

"Uh huh."

"Any others you givin' props to?"

"Several, but we don't carry the really good stuff here. I go across town to Lambda Rising for the best flicks."

"I peeped that place once, but I ain't see no black bodies up in there."

"Let me ask you something. Do you know how come they don't store postcards of brothers in the racks out front anymore?"

"Yeah, 'cause the brothers kept stealin'em."

"That's what they would like you to believe. Actually the white boys kept stealing them. That's why they're behind the main counter now. Same thing with the videos, the boxes are in the back room but the tapes are behind the counter. The brothers didn't get a chance at them because . . . "

"What back room?"

"How many times have you been in there?"

"Look bruh. I don't usually visit those places 'cause my people bring most of these flicks to me."

"Must be nice." He flashed me a perfect set of pearly whites and I knew that I wanted this brother, tonight.

"It's a gift. I ain't ask for it." I replied.

"I'll tell you what, let me close up here and we can run by and check out their selection. They don't close until after the clubs do."

"I tell you what, how about I pass on the store visit and we go check out your selection, this way I get to save on two accounts." He looked up at me with a straight face. A small grin appeared as he said: "I didn't think you were ever going to ask."

I waited outside in my ride for about ten minutes until he closed up shop. Vanessa and Charquetta came out before him. They peeped my black -and gold Lotus sitting in the parking lot like it was going to prance on them. As they walked by I rolled down my window to offer pleasantries.

"Goodnight, ladies."

As coldly as they both could muster, "Yesssss, goodnight."

Well fuck you too. By the time brotherman walked out I had rolled my window up again. He stopped at the curb, looked inquisitively at my ride, and looked further up the street to see where I might be. I gunned the car up to the curb in front of the store and rolled down my window.

"It's me, bro."

He jumped back, saying, "Damn! Nice ride."

"This old heap. I'll follow you."

"I'll try not to slow you down."

Fifteen minutes later we arrived at his brownstone off 12th S.E. Street. As he walked up to his front door I couldn't help but get a good view of his plump firm ass. Black men have the sexiest walks. His was no exception. Each step he took seemed to reverberate down his backside, rock solid to the foundation. His light blue denim jeans accentuated his thick thighs and bulging calves. All of which was fine by me.

His brownstone was one large apartment but he still lived with his moms. The building was actually split into two separate apts. His moms had the main floor and the basement, while he occupied the top floor and the roof which he had turned into a slammin' patio/balcony area, as I later found. His crib was laid out in neoclassical brocade of tan and light green; I noticed several columns in those colors standing throughout the apartment.

The living room was huge, with a large black colored screen TV, which was perfectly balanced by a killer black colored Nakamitchi VCR and stereo sound system. As Mr. E. Nuff walked through the living room to get to the kitchen he told me to make myself comfortable. The furniture seemed to be made specifically for the space. His brown leather couch stood out until I saw how well it blended in with the tan walls and the wrought iron tables with glass covers. In fact I had to admit the place was laid.

"Damn! Nice crib." I shouted to him.

"This old heap!" he shouted back.

Touché. When he came back he had two beers in hand.

"I hope you like Michelob Dry. It's all I've got left in the refrigerator after a party I had last week."

"Not at all my brother, in fact dis my drink of preference."

As he sat down I extended my hand directly below him. I gave his ass a good squeeze. He being a large brother, I knew he wouldn't jump, so I waited for his reaction. Turning his head to me slowly he said:

"Are you always this direct when you meet brothers?"
With his full weight on my hand I could feel the firmness of his ass.

"Sometimes, sometimes not. I usually play it by ear you know, but afta' scopin' you I had ta feel for myself if it really is all that.

"I take it your curiosity has been satisfied." He sounded slightly miffed. I removed my hand.

"Oh, uh, my bad. I didn't mean to upset you, bro."

"You just caught me by surprise."

"I'm kinda forward like that. Besides a brother like you don't look like he can be handled with kiddie gloves."

"You're mostly correct on that account, uh… what is your name?"

"Oh, my bad. Derrick."

"Derrick what?"

"Derrick Orion Case."

"D.O.C. huh?"

"You know you're the second brother in as many months dat's brought dat up."

"Which do you prefer?"

"Derrick. So where's that collection of yours?" I stood expecting to be led to the bedroom.

"Right here," he said unexpectedly, rising to walk over to his bookshelf. Undoing a small latch he opened his bookshelf like a door to reveal a small room that contained easily well over a thousand tapes.

"Damn dawg! Alla dem is flicks?"

"As I said, I'm a collector." Standing to the side, he let me enter the standing-room-only closet.

While I was engrossed in checking out his tapes he lit some sandalwood incense. I don't think I've ever seen so many porno tapes. Most of them still had their original covers. Many of them dated back to the early 70's, when black men and dicks were just beginning to appear. I can't even begin to tell you all the familiar faces and names I saw. Bobby Blake, J.C. Carter, Gene Lamar, Richard Reyes, Cory Cox, Flex Gamble, and the master of them all, Ron Simmons. Ron was a god among porno stars: he set the standard (although a stereotypical one) that remains to this day. I felt like a kid in a candy store. When I finally turned around I noticed that Mr. Nuff was nowhere in sight.

What was his first name?

I continued to look through the collection until I came to one called "Black Orgy." I recognized several of the brothers on the cover and knew this one was going to be a winner. When I emerged from the closet my host was still missing in action. After looking around thoroughly I found my way upstairs to the roof. It was a small paradise. The outer rim of the building was bounded by a lush green hedge. Toward the back of the building sat a grill large enough to cook a full boar. The space was furnished with chairs and tables enough to hold a party of twenty. In a small alcove with lawn chairs I found my host, laid back, chillin', sipping on a cocktail, wearing nothing but a pair of white boxer shorts with yellow smiley faces on them. The white and yellow, contrasted against his dark skin somehow struck an incongruously sexy note.

It was a perfect setting for a hot August night in DC. I saw a untouched drink on the table between his seat and a vacant chair. Mr. Nuff definitely had it going on. My earlier speculation on his physique was correct. I had failed to anticipate was his broad chest full of hair. The hairs exploded from the middle and funneled down over his slight tummy disappearing into his boxers. My mouth watered just looking at him.

"Comfortable?" I said, having approached without making a sound.

"Quite," he responded, apparently unsurprised at my proximity.

"Exhibitionist, eh?" I asked.

"Nah. I just like to come up here and chill sometimes and watch the stars. It feels pretty good some nights when there's a nice breeze blowing. You know how hot it gets here."

"Word, word." I sat down next to him, removing my shirt. With you up here it would be hot in December. Hearing me remove my shirt he opened one eye and watched me intently as I disrobed. I like it when brothers watch me get undressed. Eagle eyed as ever I peeped a sizable bulge between his legs, a bulge I must investigate later. He inquired about my video search.

"Did you find something you liked?"

"Yeah, man, I did, 'Black Orgy'."

"Excellent choice. That's a favorite of mine."

"Question yo?" I asked.

"Answer."

"What's your name?"

"Mr. Huff." Fifty million comedians out of work and he was trying to be funny. He knew I meant what was his first name but he had to play.

"Your first name, yo."

"Everett."

"Interesting name for a brother."

"I was named after my grandfather." Picking up the glass intended for me I wiped my forehead before taking a sip of the faded coke-brown-liquid. A Long Island Ice tea and mixed very well. This brother impressed me more and more by the minute.

"So yo what's up for tonight?" I asked.

"If you have to ask me that then why are you here?"

"I like to see if brothers are willing to talk about the freaky shit they like to do or if they just want to get busy."

"That depends on what you mean by freaky."

"I'm talking about what really gets a brother off. You know, like fetishes and shit."

"Brother I just met you. I don't know if I want to share my fetishes (as you put it) with you."

"You're full of shit. I seen you checking me out. Not to mention I peeped your bedroom when I couldn't find you earlier. I only know of one other brother that subscribes to ONYX and has leather straps hanging in his closet."

"What were . . . ."

"And before you even think about swinging on a nigga you wanted me to find that stuff else you would've left a brother a note to find you up here." A look of anger/embarrassment flashed across his face. Ghetto talkin' though I was he couldn't dispute my logic. He grabbed his drink downed it in one gulp and walked off. Maybe I just wanted what I wanted, but though his mind was pissed his ass was singin' to me as he stalked out of sight. Black men have the sexiest walks. He wasn't kidding, the view of the sky was the bomb, and every time a cool breeze hit me my nipples got hard. Finishing the rest of my drink I stripped to my draws and socks.

I know I can be so ghetto sometimes but niggaz like that kinda shit. I gave him five minutes before I followed. I walked down stairs to his bedroom where I knew he would be. Actually he was in the bathroom taking a shower. Not to my surprise, on the bed lay a black leather harness, candles, a paddle and a note.

Go back up stairs and put your boots on.
There are matches next to the stove.
The baby oil should be ready by the time you read this.

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