Low Taper Fade Black Male Novels & Stories

Of course, he was ever the playboy, a string of girls were crowded by him at the moment, hoping for his attention and affection, as we made our way to greet him and his family. At 22 years of age, he was tall, dark, and handsome, with jet-black hair that curtained his face and pale blue eyes, like ice. A strong angular jaw and slopping nose that came to a soft point. Lush lips that pouted when drawn in and a smile that could make your panties wet. He stood at 6 foot 4 inches, muscular and tall with a commanding presence. Yes, Zane Noir was a panty-wetting, bedroom dream, and bad boy. Dressed in all black with a silver stud gracing his left eyebrow, despite his rough edges and foul mouth, I t

That was when I first saw him. A white male, he stood five foot five, weighed about one hundred twenty pounds, and was scrawny. The only word to describe him was black. He dowsed himself with it. Black fingernails, eyelashes, makeup, as Goth as they come. His hair came to a point in the middle of his forehead, stiff with gel. His boots, navy pea coat, high-collared shirt were all black. Yet I'll never forget, as long as I live, that warped smile on his face.

I freeze when I hear Blaze coming inside and slowly lift my face to look at him. He looked absolutely edible wearing his casual white t-shirt with dark grey joggers that hung over his hip in a sexy manner as he gripped both ends of his Navy blue towel that was slung over his neck. Beads of perspiration rolled down his forehead making his silky straight jet-black hair plastered to his head. He had a cute amused smile playing on his lips, revealing his gorgeous dimples faintly but concern swirled over his hypnotic light cerulean blue eyes as he regarded me.

The street lamps began to crumble just like they had done the day of the accident, the earth crumbling as the ground quaked. “Seems you could use a little help, little vamparina.” A masculine voice resonated in the air. Vamparina? There he stood, along with my parents, his eyes red, his black dreadlocks running down along his face, his muscles big, merging perfectly with his physique, his perfectly chiseled jawline with a black cloak on. “Blood!” They groaned. “Back to the underworld.” He said as he raised his hands. The air stood still, flame engulfing the creatures in a minute. Groans filled the air as they began to disintegrate into soot, flowing along with the wind.

He was tall, easily six-three, with a presence that seemed to swallow the air in the room. He wore a black shirt, unbuttoned at the neck, and dark trousers that showed the strength in his legs. His hair was black, messy, falling over his forehead in a way that felt unstudied. When he moved forward, the light caught his eyes. They were the color of a storm at midnight, silver mixed with a deep, bottomless black. A faint scar ran through one of his eyebrows, a jagged detail that made his face look less like a dream and more like a threat.

And then he stepped out. Tall, about Mason’s height, or maybe a few inches shorter. He had a black pair of pants resting on his waist, a blue shirt, his hair, and a touch of black… yeah, his hair was grey with a touch of black and it doesn’t look dyed or tinted. He looks chiseled, does he go to the gym? And oh my god… he is hot and handsome. “Why is a Zaddy coming out of your mother’s apartment at this ungodly hour?” Ava whispered.

Both have ageless beauty like him, though human years they would be around their twenties. Thade had his jet black hair tied into a messy man bun. Strong jaw evident with his staple stubble on and bushy brows framing his steel blue eyes. His pale skin radiates against the blank ink on his skin. Being topless is his badge of honor. Showing off an oak tree tattoo from his back that stemmed its withered branches to his arms across his entire upper body. Though it doesn’t drown the presence of his chiseled abs. While he wore the same jet black color of wide legged pants that reached the floor as his bare feet stuck out. All his nails are also painted in black.

most of the time. I'm digging through my fanny pack for the keys to my car when I hear big, large, heavy footsteps racing after me. "Wait!" I turn to see a young man wearing all black from his ripped Ramones T-shirt to his large knee-high boots strapped tightly to his calves with about a dozen strappy belts. His height, enhanced by both his platform boots and his spiked blonde hair, towers above me as he stands just above 6ft tall without all of his ornamentation, but seems closer to 7ft tall with all of his extras. His black eyeliner was blurring down his face and his black lipstick was smudged down to his chin.

He nearly stumbled, but before he could hit the ground, Alfred’s quick reflexes prevented a fall, grounding us both in our respective realities. The young man lifted his gaze, wide hazel eyes shimmering with a vulnerability that caught me off guard. Black hair hung slightly in disarray, framing a delicate face blushed with a hint of embarrassment. His frame was slender and slightly shorter than my own—perhaps around 5'7'—dressed in a stylish all-white ensemble made up of three main pieces: a cropped V-neck top with delicate lace detailing, a pair of high-waisted embroidered trousers, and a long, sheer lace robe that flows to the ground. The look is completed with sleek white boots.

he added Chad heaved as he took a good look at the boy who was talking. Clean afro hair cut - so black and rich hair, almost intimidating! Clean and well ironed 'turquoise on mauve' school uniform with the shirt neatly tucked into the plain fitted trousers and a well polished black belt which had the medusa symbol of Gianni Versace designers molded on it’s head. Best of all were his shoes! A well designed ankles size black air Max canvass with a white sole.