Willy Mo Mamba 1

Willy Mo Mamba 1 by Will Buster


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Willy Mo was a street kid and he was as black as the ace of spades. He was from the wrong side of the tracks, didn’t know who his father was and was well entrenched at the poverty line, being a third generation welfare client. He’d only occasionally attended high school classes and his grades, for the most part were piss poor.

Willy hung around the neighborhood a lot, looking to make a buck any way he could. He even checked out dumpsters and trash containers to get refunds on glass beer bottles and the like. If he saw a penny on the ground, he wasn’t too proud to pick it up. His mama always told him it added up, no matter where or how. Well he love ma even if she was square and behind the times. He even grew three marijuana plants in his room and made enough on the sly, selling to some of his friends at school. It wasn’t a whole lot but it paid for his clothes, food and helped ma out on the rent sometimes.

Things looked pretty bleak for Willy Mo. He couldn’t get into college. He sure as hell didn’t want to get his face blown away in fucking Iraq. He really didn’t want to get into the drug scene in a big way, because he’d seen three of his friends end up at the bottom of the fucking East river with their stomachs carved out. He’d seen the photos when the cops had come sniffing around. He’d identified the victims but of course he knew nothing. Even if he’d known something he wouldn’t have told the pigs. He was a big, buck nigger and there wasn’t any way he would trust to honky cops for nothing. They were the enemy, the upholders of white justice. Even the black cops upheld white justice and to Willy Mo, white justice meant that the niggers weren’t supposed to make a living while the whites were. To him it was as simple as that and when you looked at the statistics for employed blacks under 25, could you have said he was wrong?

However, for once God or fate or shit luck was kind to our hero, Willy Mo. He was blessed with eleven inches of firm, thick man meat. Surprisingly he still wasn’t aware of his carnal power yet, but he was about to.


One of the only things that Willy picked up in high school was the ability to use a computer, at least to the extent he could type in a few things and use that all important mouse. He didn’t have a computer of his own yet. He hadn’t had an opportunity to steal one. However he did use one at school sometimes and his friend Jeremiah occasionally let him play with his. Yes, that’s right. Willy had a friend named Jeremiah Wilson. It must have had something to do with his parents getting religion or maybe it was the trend in years past when black kids got named strange things like Isaiah or Jeremiah or even fucking Moses. Naturally Willy didn’t want to get his friend pissed off so he called him Jerry.

*******

So one fine spring morning, Willy is surfing on Jerry’s computer while Jerry was out at school. Willy was surfing, checking out porn sites and free sex chat rooms. Then he found an interracial web site. It had something to do with huge black dicks doing little chicks with tiny holes. It was advertised in the Lolita section. Now Willy didn’t know what that meant. He noticed the girls in the photos looked real young but what really interested him was they wanted well hung bucks and he figured he might be able to make some money to boot. He wrote down the contact info which was an 800 number. The ad claimed the films were made in New York so what the hell, give it a shot!

It wasn’t as easy as he thought. For some reason the person who answered the phone acted real suspicious. “Look man, I seen your ad on the site. I’m not shitting you, I got an eleven. I fucking measured it. Now if you don’t want to tell me where you do the shoots, that’s cool. I can meet you over at McDonalds on ninth and Broadway like tomorrow at noon.”
A few moments later, after he’d gotten agreement he went on. “Yeah, I’ll be wearing a dark blue, Knicks sweat shirt and I’ll sit in a corner or as near to one as I can get. Yeah I’ll be there about noon!”

********

Willy was finishing his third cheese burger when a guy in a gray, leisure suit approached him. The thug had a cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth and he looked almost like one of those gangster types that Wily had watched in an old Untouchables rerun. Sure enough the guy had an Italian accent. “You Willy?”

“Yeah man.”

“Come with me, I wanna see what you got.”

Willy went with the mug to the men’s room. “Don’t worry kid, I’m not fucking gay. In fact I hate fucking gays. So whip it out, make it hard and I’ll tell you if we’re interested.

Willy stood near the urinal and thought of some hot looking chick at school by the name of Pam. HE got hard in a hurry as he imagined slipping his rod into that wicked little cock tease. The thug raised his eyebrows. “Not bad kid, not fucking bad! Okay, I think you will do. I’ll lay it out for you real simple. If you wanna work for us, you’ll make good dough. You’ll have a lot of fun and you might even make a good living as a jig later on.