The Colored Handyman

I heard the news first from Jimmy Rothman; he lived in a house only two blocks from the school and he would go home for lunch more often than not. He came looking for me during recess in the few minutes before we went back into class. "Hey, Troy?" he called out to me.

I looked up from my circle of friends, we were huddled between plays of an impromptu football game.

"Huh?" I said, looking up.

"Guess what?"

"What?"

"Your Momma hired a colored man."

"Colored man?" I was first astonished, then incredulous. "Aw, come on, we don't got no colored men around here!" That wasn't bigotry but simple truth. Black people simply didn't live in our part of the country back in 1963, I didn't know of a single black family anywhere around for, oh, hundreds of miles, maybe.

"We got one now, and your Momma gave him a job." Jimmy snickered. "You don't believe me, you go home and take a look. He's working in your front yard now, according to my Mom."

"Well, your Mom is a big, fat liar!" I said stoutly and we would have fought, but the school bell rang just then and we had to go in. Well, Jimmy's Mom was big and fat, but she was a gossip that usually had the truth. She'd spoken with someone who spoke with someone who spoke with someone who had seen the colored man working in our front yard.

We had a colored man working for us! You have to understand my attitude. A colored man to me was like...a unicorn! Or a dragon! Something mysterious and fantastic, you thought they existed and weren't positive because you'd heard about them but never, never seen one in person. My visions were from television and movies, but you know, a lot of stuff you see on those things are fake. I had sort of put colored people into the same category, faked for our entertainment. They didn't really have people with skin that dark, with hair that scrunched up-looking, eyes so dark that they were like solid black! It just couldn't be! People had light colored skin, eyes of all colors, hair that waved or was straight or was curled...but never kinked unless they used funny chemicals on it.

So my colored man (yes, that was how I was thinking that afternoon as school dragged on, the word "black" hadn't gotten going yet where I grew up) was something extraordinary. I had to get home and see!

There were a bunch of grade-school kids standing on the sidewalk looking at the colored man working in our yard. He was raking the lawn which he had finished cutting, raking all the dead grass clippings up so he could get rid of it. He was the color of dark leather, his hair looked like a black sponge on top of his head, his eyes were like deep, black pearls like those my mom had on a necklace she sometimes wore, only her pearls were fake and those eyes were real. The colored man was real! There were colored people in the world!

The kids were lined up at the white picket fence in front of our yard, looking over it and staring at him work and I guess he kind of was used to it, because he kept working, looking over and grinning at the kids, his teeth a flash of pure white in that dark face. His muscles were large and made baseball sized bulges all over his body, and they shone in the afternoon sun with silvery gleams arcing around each bulge. Once, when one boy stuck his tongue out at the colored man, the colored man did the same, and his tongue was so, so pink! That made them all giggle.

I pushed through the small crowd and inside and went up the sidewalk, stopped not far from him still on the sidewalk. The colored man stopped raking when I did so and looked at me.

"Hello." I said carefully.

"Hello." he said to me. "You must be Troy."

"Uh-huh." I said solemnly.

He took the two steps to close the distance between us, stuck out a big black hand and I saw his palms were pale, pale brown. "My name is Edwin. I'm working for your mother, going to take care of the yard and do some work around the house fixing stuff." I hadn't taken his hand, and he said, "You have a problem with that?"

"Huh? Gosh, no!" I said. And I took his hand and shook it vigorously. That got me a grin down at me. He was about a foot taller than me, and I had to look up at him.

"Everyone sure seems interested in me doing yard work." he said, looking out at them.

I did the same and said, "Shucks, they just never saw a colored man before."

"Have you?"

"Well, not in person." I said.

"So, what do you think, now you seen me?" he wanted to know.

I was too amazed to be anything but honest and I blurted it out. "Weird."

His eyes opened wide at that, and then he laughed. Real hard, real loud. When he was done, I was laughing too, and he said, "I been called a lot of things before, but that is the first time I ever been called weird-looking." he said. He pursed his lips and said, "Reckon I can live with that."

He looked over at the kids who were staring wide-eyed at him and he winked at me, then suddenly shouted out, real loud, "Ooga-booga!"

And the kids all ran away in a hurry, and Edwin and I laughed so hard at how he had frightened them all away like he was a ghost or something.

That was my first meeting with Edwin, our new colored handyman. I got to know him better the next few weeks, as I finished the school year and started summer vacation.

After he got the yard looking good, my mother put him into working on a full-sized garden for us, both flowers and vegetables. We had two acres of land behind our house, and he was turning all of it into something green and fruitful.

But he never came into the house. He brought his lunch with him each day and he got drinks of water at the garden hose. I saw him sweating one day and said to Mom, "Mom, can I take Edwin a glass of ice-cold lemonade?" We were sipping some.

"No." Mom said. "He doesn't need any of our lemonade."

"But it's hot outside." I protested.

"He's used to the weather." Mom said firmly. "Don't worry about him."

But I did and I went out to talk to Edwin about it. He listened, his face all serious, and he said, "It's not your problem, Troy. You listen to your Momma, don't try to bring me nothing out of the house. I bring myself some ice water in a thermos jug every morning, I'm okay."

I had realized by then that Mom wasn't letting Edwin into the house at all. "Why don't Momma let you into the house? You could fix the back staircase." I mentioned a long-time problem with the handrail, which was wobbly.

Edwin looked at me and sighed, stared off like he was watching something real far away. "It's not your problem." he said again. "Forget about it. I got me plenty of work here outside."

Understand that I grew up in a town and a county that didn't have any other black people I knew about. It took me some years to find out about that, but I didn't like the answer any better for waiting.

For then, though, I just nodded and said, "Okay, then. But I could sneak you out some lemonade if Mom isn't watching."

"That's okay." Edwin said. "I'll be fine without it."

So I let it go, puzzled about this arrangement, because Mom had hired other men to work for her, and they had all come inside. To use the bathroom, if nothing else. I wondered what Edwin was doing for a bathroom. Waiting until he got home, with all the water he was drinking? Not likely! But then where?

Two days later, I got the answer to that.

I was up pretty early that morning. I saw from my bedroom window that Edwin had just arrived and I went out to say hello to him. He always went to the back yard by walking through the side yard and that was the other side of the house from the back door of the kitchen. So I went out the back door and saw him duck around the back of the tool shed we had in the back yard and I went after him. I was wondering why he went back there, it was just a couple of feet from there to the neighbor's fence, a high wooden affair, and really didn't have anything back there. I got around the shed and found myself watching Edwin right in the middle of taking a leak.

I stared at him, at his dick. It was...it was kind of gray-colored! Every dick I had seen before had been my friend's dicks in the bathroom at school, and they had all been whitish-pink colored. His shaft was this sort of gray-brown color, and the bulb at the end, and it was a big bulb-shaped glans, too, was purplish-brown. Out of this came a long, yellowish-stream of his piss, splashing on the ground among some weeds that were yellowing and dying.

Edwin had been looking down at what he was doing, it took him a few seconds to see me standing there watching him, and when he did, he didn't react by jerking away, he just kept whizzing and when I looked up, he was looking right atme.

"What's the matter? You never seen a man take a piss before?" he asked me.

"No." I said. "I mean, not like yours, that is. Just my friends at school."

"Well, some of us are bigger than others, you might say." Edwin said. "Mine is bigger than most people's is."

"You can say that again!" I enthused.

Edwin finished his pissing and said, "I didn't expect you to be up so early in the morning. I try to keep this little place here secret. You won't tell your Momma I was taking a leak back here, will you?"

"Not me." I agreed.

"You and me are friends, then." Edwin said.

"Sure." I agreed again. Edwin was about to put his dick back in his pants and I pushed my new-found friendship on him. "Edwin?"

"Huh?"

"If you and me are friends..." I started.

"Yeah?"

"...can you be a friend and let me touch it?"

"Touch it?"

"Uh-huh." I said. "Can I?"

"You want to grab hold of my cock?"

I'd never heard it called a "cock" before. "Uh-huh. My friends and I touch each other. If you and me are friends, can I touch it? Just a little while, to see what it's like?"

Edwin had put his cock back inside his pants but he hadn't buttoned up his blue jeans. I could see the bulge of his underwear where it was.

"Your mother wouldn't like you touching my cock." Edwin said.

"She's up in her bathroom, taking a bath." I said truthfully. "She doesn't know I'm here. I won't tell her. Come on. Please?"

"You want to touch it that bad?"

"Uh-huh."

"You're real curious about black men, aren't you?"

"Black? You mean colored?"

"We prefer to be called black." Edwin explained. "But colored is okay, too." That was my first real-life encounter with the word and black men's preference about what they wanted to be called.

"Black." I said, memorizing the word. "Okay. Yeah, I'm curious about black men."

"Well..." Edwin considered it. "Okay, then. I'll let you touch it some."

"Great!" I said and watched him reach in and take that huge organ out again. He didn't let it flop, he sort of...unrolled it for me. When it was hanging down at its full length, he said, "Okay, there it is. Go ahead and touch it."

I got a hold on Edwin's dong and I said, "Wow!" and I felt it kind of jerk in my hand and stiffen up.

"Hey, it's moving!" I said in wonder. And like I'd done for my friends in bed sometimes, I gave Edwin's prod a couple of jerks, and it rose up and got stiffer than my buddies' cocks had ever gotten!

"You like that, do you?" Edwin said.

"Yeah." I said. "Boy, it's got all hard and big, and fat!" I said. I worked it some more. "Boy, that's really something."

"It sure is." Edwin said. "I never had me a white guy working my dick before. You like pumping on it like that?"

"Sure!" I said with a big grin. "It feels all warm and smooth. And you like me doing this, don't you?"

"I sure do." Edwin said.

"Want me to do it for you?" I asked.

"Do it?"

"All the way." I clarified. "Like I do for my friends in bed sometimes, you know, all the way."

"I..." Edwin choked off a bit as I began to pound on his pud in earnest. "I reckon you can do it for me, then. If you want to, that is."

"Sure, I want to." I said. "I never did this with a colored...with a black man before. It's kind of neat!"

"It sure is." Edwin said. "Let me sit down here if you're going to keep working on it, though." He had a crate back there, I think Edwin used this spot to sit and rest and just be out of everyone's sight for a while. He had put his lunch pail down beside the crate, and his thermos jug.

Edwin shifted his pants down slightly and then he sat down on the crate on the edge, and his cock was sort of displayed for me like that. "Go ahead, now, Troy, work it good and hard. You ain't going to break it."

I grinned and got on my knees and I rested my arm on one hard thigh and I began to pump Edwin's dong. The head got all sloppy with slimy clear fluid in no time and I wondered at that, figured it was a bit of left-over piss or something. Edwin was making happy grunts just like my friends, only Edwin's voice was a lot bigger and deeper than theirs'. I admired how the huge glans grew even more purplish in color as my hand moved that thick, multi-folded skin of the shaft up and down over it. Such a big, fat bulb it had, with the purple color, it was looking like a big, fat, juicy plum!

"Your head's getting all sticky." I said to Edwin as the fluid got onto my hand working his prick. "What is that, some left-over pee?" Yeah, I was pretty ignorant, my experiences with my friends had been in the dark and years before.

"No, Troy, that's pure essence of black man coming out of there." Edwin said. "You keep jerking my dick, it's going to be a whole lot more of it."

"Gee." I said. "What's it like?"

"It's all white and sticky and tastes kind of salty." Edwin said. "Nice and warm and good-tasting."

"Yeah?" I was busily satisfying my black curiosity. "Can I taste it?"

"I thought you'd never ask." Edwin chuckled. "Go ahead, take that fat plum-head of mine into your mouth and suck it all clean. That'll give you a good taste."

I did as he said, and when I started sucking on his glans he groaned like nobody I'd ever heard before. He loved the feel of my mouth on his cock, I could tell.

So I sucked him dry of the sticky stuff, and he was right, it was salty but tasted real good. I kept right on sucking and he kept right on groaning, but after a time, he said, "You like sucking my dick, Troy?"

"M-hm." I grunted my assent without letting go.

"Why don't you take it on deeper then?" Edwin said huskily. "Work my cock with your lips like you was doing with your hand. That'll make me feel good and you'll like what happens, too."

I did as he said, I couldn't get my head down too far, and Edwin reached up and caught hold of my head and helped me work it further down. I choked a little sometimes, but soon I had about three or four inches of his cock going in and out of my mouth as I bobbed back and forth on him. Edwin settled for that and let go and I was free to work my big, black man's cock over any way I wanted to!

And I did, I wanted to make him groan and I did, he was even beginning to sort of hunch up at me as I kept working him. And his cock spewed out more of that hot, salty stuff onto my tongue, and I treated it as an appetizer, for Edwin had said there was a lot more to be had, and I wanted it all.

"Oh, oh, uh, ah, I'm getting ready to come." Edwin groaned. "I'm about to shoot a whole lot of that sticky stuff into your mouth. If'n you don't want it, you'd better let go right now and go back to your hand, okay? Understand me?"

I understood but I didn't want to let go, so I kept right on pumping on him and Edwin groaned and shuddered as he felt so good from my sucking on him. "Oh, ah, man, oh, Troy, that's good, Troy, good, oh, God, got a white guy sucking my dick, oh, man!" Edwin moaned. "I'm going to shoot him full of my come, too, fill him with my hot black jism, oh, yeah!"

Black jism? But he said it would be white! Did black men have black jizz? I would have to pull off to see, and that was why, when Edwin gave out a long, loud groan and began to blast his spunk into my mouth, I let go to look at his cock.

Boy, was that a mistake! I got squirted hard right in the face with the gunk. A hard splat hit my left eye and forehead, and another got my cheek and down onto my neck. It was white, that was enough, I aimed my face back onto his cock and that was when a third splat got my other eye! Blinded by hot jizz, I got the cock into my mouth for the next squirt to spurt in my mouth and I suckled on it for that was the entirety of the load, and I had more than half of it on my face and Edwin was groaning and saying, "Oh, man, oh, baby, oh, God, oh, oh, oh!"

And then he settled down, panting hard, and I suckled his dong, but it got softer and I finally let it flop down onto his leg and I said, "Boy, you weren't kidding about how much there would be! Wow! I got it all over my face!"

"You sure did, Troy." Edwin crooned. "Get up here and let me help clean you off."

I leaned my face forward, thinking he would wield a rag over my face, but instead his pink-pink tongue came out and began to lick my face. He lapped my face free of his come, and then he reached over to kiss me, and when he did, he slid his come-laden tongue into my mouth and fed me a big wad of it. Went back and got more and fed me even more of his jizz like that.

His big hand found my crotch and he began to feel my little prong resting in there, and I said, "You want to play with mine?"

"Yeah." Edwin said. "I never had me a white dick before. I'm a mite curious myself."

"Okay." I giggled and undid my pants, and exposed my dong for him. Edwin immediately leaned over and his warm, wet mouth and sweet lips caught my pud and I moaned!

I had never felt anything like this, a friend's hand was nothing like it, it was three times better! Twelve times better!

His mouth worked my dong and I held onto him and I quickly climbed to my climax and grunted, and when I hit my orgasm, Edwin licked it all up. "Guess I'm grown up, too, huh?" I said to Edwin.

"You're getting there, all right." Edwin agreed.

We kissed and I said, "That was real good, Edwin. The very best."

"You come out here again this afternoon when your Momma takes her nap and we'll do it again." Edwin promised.

"Okay." I agreed and pulled up my pants, buttoned them, smiled at Edwin who was doing the same, and ran back to the house.

My mother was in the kitchen, getting my breakfast ready. "Why were you outside so early?" she asked me.

"Just talking with Edwin." I said.

"Oh." Mom turned back to her cooking.

"Mom?"

"Yes?"

"Why don't you let Edwin come in the house?" I asked.

"Because he shouldn't come into white people's houses." Mom explained like it was obvious. "You have to realize, son, that there are people you associate with, and people you don't. People like Edwin, colored people, you shouldn't associate with, and that includes letting them into your house."

"Never at all?"

"Some people let their women come inside to clean and cook." Mom said. "But a colored man, it's better if we leave him outside. If your father were still alive, it'd be okay, as it is, well, people would talk."

"All right, Mom." I saw I wasn't going to change her mind. But I decided, that when Momma took her nap and I went out to see Edwin again...I was taking him a big, tall, ice-cold, glass of lemonade with me!

THE END

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