Contrast

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We all learned the definition of comparison and contrast in elementary school.  I remember my grade school teachers telling me that to compare something was to discuss its similarities with some other thing.  While to contrast two things was to identify their differences.

But contrasting things need not be negative.  Actually, the differences found in side-by-side contrasting objects can be stimulating, if not exciting.  I don't simply mean sexually.

Take the Chicago White Sox for example.  This is a team that is a walking contrast.  In the great city of Chicago, baseball has a long divide between the north and the south sides of the city.  On the northside you find Wrigley Field Cub's fans, and on the southside there are Sox fans.  It's not just geographical--but Sox fans tend to be a little more working class, while Cub fans are yuppies.

But now it is the Chicago White Sox that are in the World Series--for the first time since they lost in 1959.  The last time the White Sox won was back in 1917.  It has been a long time.  But let's contrast that to the Houston Astros (the team the Sox are beating 2 games to zip in the World Series) who have NEVER been in a World Series EVER.

But probably one of the most interesting contrasts for the team is an internal one.  While the name of the team is the White Sox, they are often decked out in black.  In fact, it is not uncommon to see White Sox fan t-shirts say, Real Men Wear Black.   But afterall, the name of the ball club isn't the Chicago Black Sox, so why isn't their slogan Real Men Wear White?  Why?  Because the contrast of black and white is visually appealing and kinda hot.  Plus, real men would get too dirty wearing all white.

I had the pleasure of watching Game 1 of the World Series on television Saturday night. The bad news was that I had a three day sexual build-up and my body was screaming for a release.  So I signed online and I got hit up by a guy who was new to Chicago.  He as a late twenty something guy, with very dark chocolate skin and a nice thick muscular toned body.  He sent me a picture and a telephone number. The picture wasn't cute at all.  But his bodily statitistics (like height and weight)  sounded nice and therefore I decided to go ahead and give him a call.

Initially, I was excited. When contrasted, his masculine Brooklyn (where he was from) voice made me forget about the not-so-nice looking facial picture. Not only was his voice perfect, but he also said that he was versatile and liked taking turns fucking and getting fucked in the same sexual session.  I immediately started getting turned on.  I couldn't believe that I had finally met someone who was masculine and in decent shape who was interested in being versatile.  I thought all the versatile men had died in the late 1990s.  I jumped on the opportunity to meet a man, who, when contrasted with other men--seemed to be into a lot of verbal and aggressive sex.  We made plans to meet an hour later.

When he showed up, he wasn't nearly as aggressive in person as on the telephone.  But his body was decent, and his attitude was pretty good.  I was so unbelievably horny.  My thing was rock hard--but then he told me that he wanted to fuck me first.  I wasn't too happy with this, but I didn't really care. Ultimately, I knew that I would get a chance to fuck him in return.

He pulled down his pants and I could see the imprint of a small penis in his underwear.  I thought to myself, the size of his dick doesn't matter right now.  All I wanted to do was to let him fuck me a little, and then I would be on my way to flip-flopping the roles and tearing his ass up with my piece.

But that moment never came.  Because when he pulled off his underwear, he--like the Chicago White Sox-- revealed an internal contrast of his own.  My eyes looked down from his dark chocolate nipples, down his jet black torso, until they reached his exposed dick and my mouth fell open.

In front of me was the pinkest, whitest dick I think I had ever seen in my life. He had this very dark body, and attached to it was an albino dick.  I couldn't believe my eyes.  I started touching it, to see if it had been burned.  I was looking for any evidence or story that could help me make sense of the white dick that he wanted to place inside of me.  But the only logical one was that he was born with no skin pigment in his pipe.  You could see a few small circle patches of his dark pigment on his dick head.

Just then I was experiencing a contrast in my desire. I was quickly transported from a very horny state to plain old not interested.  I closed my eyes and I wondered whether I could go through with the act.  But luckily, he couldn't maintain his erection, so I was off the hook.

But I couldn't help but feel like he should have given me a little notice and told me that his penis was a study in black and white.

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Comments

[Ricky]

I have never heard or seen nothing like that. Specks of pinkness but pink all over.

[closet freak]

That was hilarious and unpredictable. Was it true?

[Boogie]

I thought all the versatile men had died in the late 1990s.

LOL

[carl]

LOL! ... This story made me laff my ass off ... U have been getting a lot of shocks lately ... ur jaw has dropped a number of times ... how is old ticker doing after all these shocking moments?

Man, I don't know what I would do in that situation ... I have seen many dicks in my day, pretty and quite ugly but never a moo moo dick ...LOL!

Dontcha just hate dick let downs?

[paco]

LMAO classic...