Private Convictions

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Private Convictions
As Conner sat in front of his lap top, watching yet another interracial porn video (out of so many others he’d been watching, in secret, for a long time now), he wanted to come. The exhilaration he was feeling was addictive; just as addictive (though he no longer cared) as the images he loved watching of huge, well-endowed black men, fucking gorgeous white women (women he knew he’d never have, and partly didn’t want).

As he quietly sat there, his hand lightly, almost teasingly, stroking his straining cock, there again was that fascinating eroticism he felt at the very thought that his seed, his Caucasian seed, would never create a baby; not in one of those
beautiful white women’s pussies, and not even in an ugly woman’s pussy, but in NO pussy whatsoever!

The very thought that he would never bring any life into this world, sent strange, but unmistakably exciting, sensations through him. His parents probably were hoping he’d make them grandparents, but so far, they hadn’t said much about that one way or the other. e was glad they hadn’t made an issue out of it. How could he explain to them his reasons for not ever wanting to pass his genetic inheritance bahis siteleri on? They’d never understand the rationale for it. So, best not to talk about it.

Plus, as he sat and stroked his cock, and as he felt the deep exhilaration of watching a handsome, well-endowed, black male implanting HIS seed into a white woman’s pussy—he knew he’d NEVER be able to explain to his parents exactly why he was so incredibly fascinated, and drawn to such images! It would break their hearts, more than likely. They’d be bitterly disappointed, even angry with him, for the feelings such images evoked in their son’s most private thoughts! But, the undeniable fact was—he harbored feelings that few other whites could grasp; let alone his parents!

He watched, with utter fascination, as one particular black stud was vigorously fucking some attractive white female; he felt the urge to ejaculate growing stronger by the second; and he was eager to see this black man’s seed oozing out the woman’s well-fucked pussy. He felt his heart thudding on either side of his neck as he watched, riveted by the sights, and sounds, of this incredible scene being played out before him; a scene he, himself, tipobet knew he’d never participate in!

A moment later, as he watched a close up view of the black man’s balls throbbing and twitching as he was obviously
unloading his cum deep inside the white woman’s vagina, he sat forwards on his chair in front of the lap-top, and he began furiously stroking his erection; and with an urgency that always excited him so very much, and after a moment, suddenly, he groaned out loud, and still stroking his cock, he expelled his long pent-up load of cum; and it spurted out in thick globs and ropey stringers; landing on the floor between his feet…the pleasure of this special moment filling him with a tingling satisfaction hard to explain to someone else!

“Oh—god,” he said, sighing with that feeling of satisfying exhaustion that always followed such a session!

He paused the video on the screen in front of him, and he looked down at his spilled load of sperm, laying there,
forlorn, disguarded, unwanted, indeed ‘useless,’ but rather than feel sad at that, he felt strangely…happy, even more than a little relieved!

Looking down at his sperm, he let out tipobet giriş his breath, happy to be rid of it! Then he got several wads of toilet paper and
began wiping up the mess he’d made (the ‘mess’ that was his own sperm; his parents only hope of a grandc***d)! He looked at it, smeared over the wads of white paper. Many thousands of his sperm were, even at that moment, still alive, still very much alive…but not for long.

He walked down the hallway to the bathroom, and dropped the sodden wads into the toilet bowl. Pausing to look for a second, he then flushed it down. He stood there as the swirling water eventually claimed his sperm, with a strange feeling of…of what? It was a good question, really. There was, perhaps, a slight (very slight) sense of wistfulness to the act of flushing his own sperm down the toilet, and yet, he had NO intentions of ever passing his seed on into the future. He didn’t wish to do anything like that. The ultimate resting place of his seed, he knew deep down inside, was the sewage processing plant down the many miles of sewer lines. As a Caucasian male, he wanted to do what he could to put a stop to the long history of racism that his ancestors had fomented for so long; and though some might regard his intentions as a form of ‘race betrayal’, he didn’t see it that way at all. He regarded it as Justice; as Atonement; as Reparations.

The End (In more than one way!)

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