«A BBC Bull's Tale» by Thomas Roberts

By day, Darryl is a floor manager in a manufacturing plant. By night, he’s a Bull—a seriously buff black stud who lives to service married white women with cuckold husbands. It’s amazing how many husbands want to watch! As word spreads, he finds himself becoming a little too popular with the ladies…and then he falls in love! How far will he go to satisfy his own needs and desires?


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Excerpt ~~~~~


By day, I’m a floor manager in a manufacturing plant; on many nights and weekends, I’m a Bull. A Bull is a
man, usually a black man, who services a woman, usually a white married woman.
Not a bad hobby, I guess…as word has spread, I’ve found myself becoming popular in some circles.


Lucy works in the office of the
plant as an secretary to one of the owners. I noticed her first because of her
appearance. Lucy drew attention to herself without trying, or even being aware
that she was doing it. She’s beautiful, perfect skin without makeup, long
blonde hair, and even white teeth that seemed to shine when she smiles.


She’s tall for a woman, slim hips
over long legs, it was no secret that she kept herself in shape. I’d heard that
she ran every morning before coming into work, and I believed it. The only
thing I couldn’t believe was how she found bras large enough to hold her breasts. Lucy was gifted in that department.


Her husband was rumored to be a preacher at some weird cult just outside of town. Lucy carried one of their
“bibles” with her and could be seen reading it whenever she ate her lunch at work. Maybe because she was a religious, church-going person, Lucy seemed, by nature, to be an innocent.  Innocent of her beauty and most of all, innocent of her effect on men. She was just so good
natured and well… good…that I’m sure she couldn’t conceive of the kinds of thoughts men had when she walked past them.


Lucy always wore conservative skirts
that did nothing to hide her curves and the length of her legs. She was blissfully
unaware that the bellowing blouses she wore in summer, and the sweaters she wore in winter, provided a tantalizing hint of her particular gift.


I could probably count, on the
fingers of one hand, the number of times we’d spoken to each other. I worked on the plant floor and the only time I saw Lucy was when I was called into the office or when I needed something from her boss.


When she walked across the plant,
worked seemed to slow down as the men stopped to stared at her. Lucy just
smiled and said “hello” to everybody she met.


Our town is in the middle of the
“Bible Belt,” it was important to be careful when talking about women or sex.
Everybody belonged to a church and some were rabid in their beliefs.


I didn’t stare. I was one of the few black men working in the plant, and I liked my job. Besides, at 6’5” I’d be hard to miss looking at a beautiful white woman. I kept my head down and did my job.


Holly was another white woman who worked in the same office with Lucy. She didn’t draw the same level of attention; being shorter, with mousy brown hair, she was not the type that
would cause rumors or jealousy.


Holly and I got along fine, she was
easy to talk with and I liked her. I seemed to be one of the few men who
suspected her barely controlled sexuality.


Holly lived alone in a small
two-bedroom apartment where her only interests seemed to be books and sex, and books about sex. Our talks covered a variety of topics, she was well educated
but our conversations always came back to sex.


“Hi, Darryl. How’s it hanging?” It was Holly sneaking up behind me.


“Long, black and hard. You should try it
sometime,” I answered her.