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Chapter One: Court Fees Got Me Down
Chapter Three: Fraternity Hazing
Chapter Six: The Bouncer’s Bottom
Chapter Seven: The Hunky Pool Boy
Rob had intended to go to a sit-down restaurant to eat alone. He needed a break from his father-assigned work and a meal, and that was the best way to achieve both things. But the Thai restaurant near his hotel — “Fit to Be Thaied” — was unexpectedly busy, with a line out the door. Rob didn’t mind eating alone, he wasn’t embarrassed like so many others were, but he wouldn’t want to do so in a very crowded restaurant. He didn’t like eating alone in a very empty restaurant either; it was tough to find a happy medium.
So he was just driving around. There was one place that looked reasonable enough, but it was called “Gus’s Gutburgers”. Rob was trying to watch his diet these days and that did not sound like a restaurant that would be conducive to it. Then there was a “Lady Mao’s Community Chinese”, which, aside from the oddly Communist implication, looked like another generic shitty takeout place that would probably be terrible.
He wasn’t even hungry. He considered not eating, but it was getting late. He knew skipping meals was not an effective way to lose weight because of its effect on his metabolism. If he didn’t eat now, he’d probably be ravenous in a few hours when nothing was open except the hotel bar and the McDonald’s.
He could just get a microwavable meal at a grocery store, he thought. That was a good idea, it was cheap, there were some really good ones that weren’t too many calories and the hotel probably had a microwave he could use.
A handsome man.
Rob’s eyes zeroed in on him instinctively because he was ungodly handsome and because he was conspicuously leaning against a street sign on a corner. He was tall, leanly muscular and heavily tattooed, wearing a sleeveless tee shirt that showed off his body. He was black, and given the neighborhood and his posture, Rob was fairly certain he was a drug dealer, a pimp, a hustler or at least attempting to look like a thug.
He looks like a good bit of rough…
Rob pulled over. He could see a tantalizing bulge in the man’s jeans; it probably wasn’t his cock, but Rob liked to imagine that it was.
“Hey, man-” Rob was about to ask for directions, but the black man approached the car and interrupted him as soon as the window was down.
“Crack-?” He cut himself off as he took in Rob’s nice car (a rental, not that he knew that) and clothes. “Powder?”
“No, I’m looking for something else. Something very specific,” Rob said with a salacious giggle. He intended for it to sound feminine, but it didn’t quite come across that way.
“I give you an 8-ball for hundred-twenty dollahs, man.”
“Hmmm…”
“PCP? You want angel dust? I can get you angel dust,” he said.
Rob shook his head. The guy’s deep throaty voice was alluring and disconcerting, and his hot breath filled the car because he had poked his head in through the driver’s side window.
“You wanna get laid, my brothah? I help you out. You can have a good time, man, I know all kinda ladies. You like ’em skinny? You like big tits? I know one slut who love gettin’ titty-fucked by white men.”
“Hmmm… Get in,” Rob said. He leaned over to open the door. “I have a specialized request.”
“Man, I don’t get in cars, nigga, I’s out here hustlin’. I gotta be here to make dollah bills, yo! What’choo want? I got a black girl gonna suck ya dick for fifty dollars-“
“Nope. How about I pay fifty dollars and swallow your dick?”
“Ah-” The black man cut himself off and looked around behind and in front of the car. He chuckled, and for the first time his hustler-patter seemed off. “Oh. Uh… Ah. Yeah, uh…”
“Does your dick work or what?” Rob asked. “C’mon, there’s a whiteboy down the street with dick for days-“
“Nigga, please!” He hesitated again, then got in the car. He sighed like a cocky bastard. “I was always gonna say yes.” He paused. “What whiteboy you talkin’ ’bout? McMasters? He fucks skanky chicks, you know. Like, not sexy-skanks neither, like diseased bitches wit’ oozy pussies and shit-“
“I don’t care, no, not McMasters. There’s no whiteboy,” Rob said as he drove away. “I made that up to get you in the car.”
The dealer sniffled and scoffed like he was upset and considered leaving. But the car was already moving, so he just shrugged. “I ain’t get in cuz of that. Fuck McMasters, he’s a total pussy. I kicked his ass last year and he been tellin’ folks-“
“Oh my god, I don’t give a shit about your drama, just take your dick out,” Rob said. Then he paused. “What’s your name?”
He hesitated again before answering. “Andre.” It was not a convincing lie, but Rob just shrugged.
“Fine, you don’t have to give me your real name, Andre.”
He took his dick out. “You gotta pay a hundred, man, not fifty.”
“No. We agreed on fifty.”
“There wasn’t no agreement, man!”
“You got in the car for fifty. I know perfectly well you’ll do it for that,” Rob said. “I bet you always tell your hos to start high and negotiate lower too, right? But you started low and now you’re trying to negotiate higher. That doesn’t work-“
“Man, I ain’t a pimp.”
“Then why’d you offer me girls?”
“I know a pimp. He gives me a cut.”
“That’s a fine distinction,” Rob said. “Well, anyway, my price is fifty dollars. You wanna get out of the car?”
He was quiet for a long time. “No. Fine. Don’t tell no one about this.” He chuckled like he had never been serious. “Whatever, I just wanna get my dick wet.”
“It’ll be our little secret,” Rob said. He pulled into a Wal-Mart that was open twenty-four hours and parked at the end of the row of cars. These were probably mostly employees’ cars, he figured, and he parked so he could easily see anyone coming from the store or driving in from the road.
Andre already had his dick out, whacking it against his palm. He grunted. “Alrightie then, get to it.”
Rob dove right in. “Is this your first time?” He swallowed Andre’s cocktip and teased the piss-slit with his tongue.
“Nah, man, I let niggas get me off if they want,” he said. “Whitebois gotta pay.” He chuckled.
Rob didn’t answer, he was too engrossed in savoring dickmeat. His nose nuzzled Andre’s crotch, and he grunted again. He lifted his ass up a little like he was surprised at how good this felt. He pistoned his dick deeper down Rob’s throat.
“Yeah, boi, swallow that shit deep, damn…” He leaned back and sighed, using both hands and his hips to slam into Rob’s face. “Damn, you got one of them nice whiteboy throats, I like that. You smooth as silk, boi.”
As he orgasmed into Rob’s throat, Rob stroked his balls with one hand, while his other reached up to caress his muscular chest beneath that tight wifebeater he wore. Cum flowed and his tattooed muscles rippled.
His load was salty and sweet, thick, cloyingly creamy. It coated Rob’s throat and settled into his stomach. Rob moaned as he guzzled it down.
“Shit, boi, goddamn, don’t let up, don’t let up, bitch…”
Finally he let go, and Rob pulled off. He smacked his lip, then went back down for another taste. It was now exquisitely over-sensitive, and Andre writhed. “Hmmm… you taste good,” Rob said with a giggle.
“Shit, man, shit…”
“You want my phone number?” Rob had a special phone number he used just for dalliances like this. He wrote it down and handed it to Andre, along with the fifty dollars. Andre still lay there in the passenger seat with his dick out.
His voice was lazy and tired now. “Shit… Lemme give you my number, man, you call me when you want it-“
“No. You text me,” Rob said. He had done this before — a man like Andre wouldn’t call until he was horny, and then Rob would know it was the perfect moment to get a little anal and who knew what else from him. Rob smiled. “I like that better.” He opened the door to signify that Andre could get out now.
“Shit. Okay.” He chuckled. “I be textin’ you all the time, man. You handle my dick good.” He paused. “You still gotta pay.” He was about to get out, then he hesitated. “Can you take me back to where we was?”
“Do you always take your bitches home?” Rob said. Andre got out as though he expected Rob to tell him to just come right back in. But he looked at Rob with his brow furrowed.
It was obvious he couldn’t truthfully say yes, so he hesitated. “Uh… I mean, it ain’t like that-“
“Later,” Rob said. “Call me when you’re desperate.” He drove off with the passenger-side door open, leaving Andre there, his cinching his belt once more. Andre was still a bit bleary-eyed from his orgasm, so he threw his hands in the air.
“Whatever, man! I won’t get desperate, I got females!” Andre called out into the night. But he was already brainstorming the excuses he’d use when he finally called Rob. He knew he’d be doing that any day now.
He just wanted to make some money and get his dick wet.
Read it now for free as an ebook!
Chapter One: Court Fees Got Me Down
Chapter Three: Fraternity Hazing