The Salt Interlude part 2 & 3 The African American

[rdyroger]

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Part 2

I didn't not have fun. It wasn't FUN, to be so in constant need and so constantly turned on. It made it difficult to... cook a meal, read a book, or have a phone conversation. The food would burn, some random description in the book would make me crazy horny and I'd end up shooting a cup of cum onto the book, and the constant images in my mind with a guy's voice in my ear... what did he look like, what was he doing, how big was his dick, maybe his dick was bigger than that, maybe he was buff, or had a hairy muscle belly, or was really cute... blond, redhead, brown, black, white, asian, african, hell, I actually did fantasize about stripping off those eskimo furs and finding some hot guy underneath. And it didn't matter how hot he would be, as EVERYTHING turned me on. To varying degrees, but I had a LOT of sex. With some really skanky guys. I was a skanky guy. Isn't that the idea, mindless sex and you don't know their names and you have to fight to use your brain in between erections... I might have 20 minutes, or sometimes a glorious hour, where I was... Nathan, not Nate the big black buck. That's what I was called, at this one party. I thought it was hot. I was so ashamed, but I couldn't stop myself.

I started putting the books into plastic baggies. I would take it out, turn the page, put it back in and then read it through the clear plastic. I never knew when an overpowering lust would hit me and ... that was that. I told people I wanted to keep my books nice. No one EVER argued with me.

I knew I wouldn't kill myself. I wouldn't have to. I would just slip away, into sex... cock and more cock, and hot asses raised for me to fuck...and soon I would only be sensation. That's what I feared. It wasn't like that, though. It was worse. I was still me enough to know I was behaving badly, and I didn't lose myself, like I both hoped and feared.

Austin became a constant in my life the next two weeks. I couldn't stop it. He was able to keep up with me sexually. He used me. I used him. I hated him, and I needed him. Is that being co-dependent?

I also went out to down low club nights... and I found myself the life of the party. The brothers and I had a lot of fun. And I did call them my brothers, and I picked up a lot of slang that I had disdained before. But I hated it when I heard those words on my lips. I felt more a part of the African experience, but I felt like my manners, my body appearance, and my clothing... well, it was hard not to show off, I wore a lot of tight clothes. The worst of it was when a little old white lady would freak out seeing me just walking down the street. Hard to make yourself small and not imposing at 6'6" tall and 270 lbs.- and 3% bodyfat. And hairy everywhere and just mean and tough looking. It wasn't all the time, but it was so unpredictable, if I was in that situation and I had a few minutes I would walk backwards around the block to avoid confronting a little old lady. Pretty damned funny.

But I didn't enjoy that. Not the intimidation in the street. But in the bedroom... I was a sexual dynamo, and Austin and I had a lot of wrestling matches that turned pretty much into fights. Winner got to top.

And I was complaining. I mean, when I wasn't having sex. Austin got tired of it and told me to shut up. I didn't. But I didn't leave either. I'd lost my job, and I was living as a street hustler and sleeping at Austin's. I didn't lose my job the way you think. I just wasn't that person so there was no point in going back. "Hi, I'm 6' taller and look completely different. That's cool isn't it?" No, it wasn't cool.

And after a couple of very fast living weeks, there was an evening where Austin told me that he could undo the changes. He'd take away the "extra blackness" he said as he laughed. I hated him for it. It wasn't the black color of my skin, and it wasn't the muscle, or the giant cock, or maybe it wasn't even the constant sex drive... but it was certainly all of that combined that made me unhappy. The thought of being myself again... having a night's sleep where I didn't wake up shooting cum on my chest... or going for a swim at the gym without being a freak show...

I wanted to know the details, Austin just said it would cancel out what he'd given me. I wasn't informed enough to make an informed decision. But I figured, what could he do? Ruin my life? Make me bigger? Even if I was as big as he was, it wouldn't make any difference to me. I was already a freak.

So I found myself sitting in Austin's apartment, which by the way reeked of sex, and watched as he mixed 6 teaspoons of some "salts" into a sports drink. I was watching his ass, the way up moved, his hips, his ass bobbing. I was getting turned on again. Again again again.

I didn't have a LONG conversation, a what if, promise me, bring me flowers and I'll forgive you conversation. I saw my cock, rising, rising, rising, a black python, and I pushed it away. It slapped back up against my hairy abs. It was so heavy, it was like getting punched. But I was so thickly muscled... it didn't hurt, of course. But it excited me.

"Are you su...." asked Austin as I strode across the room and grabbed the sports drink and gulped it down just like one of those stupid TV commercials. It was empty in a trice.

I threw it down. I pushed Austin, hard. He pushed me back. We had a violent round of sex. Four of them, actually. Then I felt really thirsty and drank about a gallon of water. Austin just had that fucking smile on his face. I laid down. I felt really sleepy. At least my nightmare would be over tomorrow, I could maybe get my job back, maybe ..... I was out.

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Part 3

I had strange dreams. I felt really ill and I was near delirious consciousness a couple of times, I think.

I remember vaguely Austin getting me some water and food, and then my fever broke and I slept. Boy, did I sleep. And as I slept, the world changed. Or rather, I did. Which is the same thing, really, depending on your perspective.

I woke in the morning. I was out of it. I mean, really out of it. As in, hard to think. The room was way too bright. I was confused. Austin brought me some water, and I told him that the light was too bright, like when you get your eyes dilated at the optometrist. He assured me I would adjust. That fucking liar. He was so ... glib. And I believed him every time.

I could see, it was a bit blurry and my eyes were tearing. I kept wiping away the tears. I don't know if they were from the light hurting my eyes or my relieved anger and frustration at the end of my tortured journey. I certainly felt different, and I started to feel better. Austin pulled all the drapes shut, and sat with me for a while. My voice sounded DIFFERENT. Still, I guess that was to be expected. It didn't sound like I remembered, but... it had a good resonant quality to it, and it was no longer the Nathan the walking penis voice.

After a while, I guess it was almost an hour, I started to be able to see better. And things looked wrong. I felt, better and stronger, the sickness was passing, but I realized that I was still, you know, I felt big. I opened my eyes and they were no longer burning. I looked down. I was different. My skin looked like I was sick, it was almost yellow. Then my mind lurched and adjusted and I realized my skin was no longer black. I was white, with a pale golden tan. I held up my hands, and looked at them. The pigment had processed out of my skin, and even my fingernails looked different. My hands were big and long fingered and kind of elegant looking. I looked at Austin, he had that shit eating grin on his face.

"Well, that cancelled your blackness nicely." he said like the cat.

I was horrified. I looked down. I was still huge. er. Huger. More big. EVERYWHERE. I stood up very slowly. The penis about reached my knee. My penis. I walked, sort of, to the mirror.

I was almost completely hairless except my pubes and a dusting on my lower abs and my hair was like a freak show. Black and tight kinked curls on the outside, but the 5 inches of new growth was enhanced platinum blond straight and true. I looked and the white guy in the mirror looked back. His eyes were electric green. His nose was long and straight and aquiline and he had a long handsome face and fucking dimples and high cheekbones. Not only had my skin changed color, I was completely caucasian.

And I was taller. 7' tall. And more muscular. I flexed my bicep in awe. It got bigger when it was flexed. A lot bigger. My hips were narrow as was my waist and my back flared dramatically in that V shape- and my ass was tight sexy white boy ass.

"It's Nordic- Danish apparently. Why do you suppose their skin is so white up in the snow and the mountains?"

"It's because the climate was cold and they had to wear clothes to stay warm. So they needed more sun penetration for their skin to make vitamin D," I remarked absently. I think that was the last thing I said before I fainted.

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Well, I bet you didn't expect that. I honestly never know what's going to come out of my fingertips when I'm typing. I just try and think about what the characters would do and it works.

rdyroger
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[Mdlftr]

Good read!!

Unexpected switches!

That Austin!

Enjoying this very much!

Mdlftr

[Mad Dog]

My, my, my. Austin may be a prick, but he's a constant source of entertainment :3

[chocomus]

hahahah
wish again
it'll make you bigger

[philat99]

These interludes become weirder and weirder - and all because of Austin!
Mike

[redroger11]

rdyroger; you are so right. You've got these people that you craft into being. OK, so they only exist on the screen, the printed page or in your head. But damn if you haven't given them so many more heads to live in, when you share them, like you do. The phrase "So fine" comes to mind. And wise man that you are, you let them tell you what they want to do and where they want to go. So few authors can actually get away with that. You are doing a great job, cause while they help you write the story, you let us help them stay real in the minds of so many readers. Keep writing.

redroger11

[redroger11]

Just a side note or idea. There's a story going along called Flablondjet and Tall Tale. Could Nate find the right kind of Psychologist to help Austin deal with his issues? Or maybe a Biochemist /Psychiatrist for them both?