“I really don’t think I can pick him out of a lineup, Officer Jackson,” Rob said. He got in the passenger side of the patrol car. “Well, we need you to try. We think we got the guy, but we need an ID on him,” Officer Jackson said. He pulled into traffic with a quickness. Unfortunately, traffic didn’t comply with his need for speed, and he was stuck almost immediately — not even turning on the siren would help. The street was jammed bumper-to-bumper with cars. “Well… shit,” Rob said, sighing at the sight of the traffic jam. “Yeah, goddamn I hate this city. Traffic sucks,” Jackson said. He let out a long, low sigh. “So what does a dude like you do for fun in this city? Sorry, was that weird to ask? I’m just making conversation.” “No, that’s a fine question, officer. I am a bit of a music collector, namely funk. I love funk,” Rob said. “Oh, you know, I date a little, fool around… y’know… I love me a bit of rough trade.” “Rough trade? What’s that?” He sighed and pounded on the steering wheel. He scowled at the car in front of him. The radio flickered into life, but it wasn’t a call aimed at Officer Jackson. “It’s when a masculine guy lets a weaker guy taste his dick for money or a place to sleep or whatever.” “So, wait, guys let you jack them off?” “Oh, yeah, all the time.” “I know Mexicans do that. My last partner explained about the activos and pasivos. I thought it was weird, but he said there’s a dude he messes with sometimes. His wife makes him get off so she doesn’t have to do it. He said all Mexicans do that, I said that seems like a sweeping generalization and-“ “Oh, that’s darling,” Rob said. “But it’s not just Mexicans, sweetie.” He squeezed Officer Jackson’s bicep beneath his uniform shirt. It was firm and meaty, and it made him giggle because it made Jackson’s chest muscles ripple. “Lots of guys do that, for money… or just… for fun. When there’s no girls around. Like right now.” “You comin’ on to me?” “I bet I can get you off and swallow all your cum down before we get off this highway,” Rob said. He moistly sucked on his finger, deep-throating it until he got Officer Jackson’s attention. Rob smiled. “I’m very good.” “As good as a girl?” Rob scoffed. “Sweetie, I’m better than any girl. I can throat any cock, and I love to swallow cum. What girl can make that boast?” He reached over and teased the side of Officer Jackson’s thigh. “Shit… You want me to be ya rough trade?” “Well, I’d have to offer you something of value, but that would be illegal,” Rob said. “So why don’t we just do something more fun? It’s not illegal to gamble on dick, is it?” He stroked Officer Jackson’s cock through his uniform slacks. “If I can make you blow a nut before we get off the highway, then I get to spend one night worshiping your cock and your ass and every part of your body.” Rob unzipped Jackson’s uniform slacks and pulled his already erect cock out. Officer Jackson shifted his weight and scooted back to give Rob more room to touch his dick through his slacks. “Look… I dunno ’bout that…” He blushed. “You can stroke it a bit, that’s… y’know…” “Hmmm… you sure I can’t take it out? Let it see the light of day?” Officer Jackson made a bunch of grunting noises, some of which sounded like “yes” and others like “no”. But Rob just kept rubbing it through his clothes, until it was as hard as iron and the precum leaking out made a little wet spot on the fabric. “Oh, god, man… Do you really throat dick that good?” “Even better.” Rob aimed his voice directly into Officer Jackson’s ear, and he kept his tone low and sultry. Jackson moaned and shuddered. “Goddamn, boy, look, you can suck on it a bit, okay, just get it wet? Just, uh… Oh god…” It took all his concentration to keep driving. “You won’t tell anyone, right?” “I promise, it’ll be our little lavender secret,” Rob said. He unzipped Officer Jackson’s slacks and took his dick out. It was big and thick and, Rob was glad to see, uncut. It was meaty and firm. It tasted salty from the moment Rob popped it into his mouth, precum already flowing down his shaft. “Hmmm… Goddamn…” “Isn’t this nice? I haven’t even started on it yet,” Rob said with a giggle. He still just played with the tip, letting his spit drip all over it and into the humid forest of Officer Jackson’s crotch within his slacks. “I’m just teasing still.” Officer Jackson grunted. A surge of terror hit him as he realized he wasn’t paying too much attention to the road, but the traffic was still almost entirely stopped. He crept forward a few feet a minute. Dispatch to Car 25. Jackson, hey?
Officer Jackson swore. He grabbed for the radio with one hand, while his other guided Rob onto his dick. Rob wanted to make him moan into the radio — he thought that would be funny — so he deep-throated Officer Jackson’s dick the moment he pushed the transmit button on the radio.
“Car 25 he — heeere…” His voice did break as he spoke, but he just pushed Rob’s head deeper on his dick. He squirmed in his seat and closed his eyes. Hey, Jackson, you still picking that witness up? Don’t worry about it. We caught him trying to pawn the cash register. “Thank god,” Officer Jackson said. Then he spoke into the radio, “Okay. Cool. I already picked him up, but I’ll just take him back home.” Rob lifted his head up, wiping precum off his chin, and giggled. “So the guy robbed a gas station then tried to pawn the cash register that day? Do pawn shops even take cash registers?” “He was probably a meth-head,” Officer Jackson said. “That’s a total meth move.” “Hey, so how do you want me to swallow your cum?” Since most women didn’t like sucking dick or swallowing cum, or talking about either, Rob liked to tease straight men by bringing it up. He chased Jackson’s dick with his mouth as he talked. “Cuz I like to have you ejaculate on my tongue, that way I can taste every drop-“ “Yeah, do that.” He gently pushed Rob’s head back to his dick, but Rob just kept stroking. Rob teased the tip of his dick with his tongue. Jackson was right on the edge of orgasm, and Rob kept him there. “So another option is for me to throat you, so you shoot all your load in my throat, like real deep in my throat. The downside there is that I don’t get to taste as much of it. But if you like being deep-throated, that’s probably the way to go.” “Yeah. Do that.” The traffic was beginning to clear out. Rob had totally forgotten they were originally betting over how quickly Officer Jackson might cum. “Let’s see, there’s also the porno option. That’s where you jack yourself off and cum on my face. I’ll have to clean myself up and swallow it all. That makes for a good visual for the camera, but I think it’s the least sexy,” Rob said. He paused for a moment to lick Jackson’s shaft from root to tip, making him shudder and moan again. “Come on, just swallow it, just swallow it, okay?” He was desperately plaintive now. “Hmmm… Okay, it’s up to me?” “Yeah! Just swallow it, man! Come on!” He pounded on the steering wheel. His dick throbbed mightily, like it might cum no matter what. Rob had always known how he was going to do it — he was going to deep-throat. While he did enjoy having a man cum in his mouth, he knew this would feel better for Jackson, which meant Rob might get to make this a regular occurrence. Besides that, the steering wheel was in the way, which might have made the other methods more difficult. So he rammed his head all the way down. As his orgasm hit him, just as he pulled the car onto an off-ramp, Officer Jackson parked on the side of the road. He couldn’t control his body anymore. Cars whizzed past as he leaned back and finally blew the biggest load of his lifetime. Nobody had ever swallowed his cum as deeply as this. Officer Jackson let out a loud howl, his mind whirring as he wondered what he’d say if some other cop saw him parked here. He held Rob’s head all the way down on his cock, until he had shot every drop down Rob’s tight, warm throat. “Shit! Hell yeah, boy! Goddamn!” Officer Jackson screamed. His cum was thick and salty, with a certain musty quality that Rob adored. His load sat heavily in Rob’s belly, his heat seeping into Rob’s flesh. Rob kept sucking even as his lungs cried out for oxygen. “Shit…” Officer Jackson said, his voice now quiet and wavery, exhausted, his forehead dappled with sweat. “Shit, man.” Rob pulled off. He loudly gulped down the mouth full of cum he still had. It sat hotly in his belly. “So you see, that’s what I do for fun in this city.” “Uh-huh. Shit, man…” Officer Jackson gulped as he put his moist cock away. “Shit… That was better than any girl. Don’t quote me on that.” Rob giggled. “You don’t need to worry about that.” His hands pawed at Officer Jackson’s chest. “I practice the utmost discretion.” He paused. “You owe me a night in a motel. I’m gonna make you feel so good, sweetie. You ever had a tossed salad? I’ll make you cum till your balls fall off.” Officer Jackson cleared his throat and rearranged himself in his slacks. “Man… Shut up, okay? You’re gonna make me horny again. I’ll take you home now.” He paused. “Yeah, I’ll get a motel room. I’ll have to call you and let you know when I can get away from my wife.” “I can’t wait.”
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.
Living in Ann Arbor had been nice, but Rob was beginning to get tired of it. He was already thinking of new places. Maybe Salt Lake City? Mormons were nice, but so boring. But for now, he was still settling into his apartment near the college. Rob told himself — and more importantly, everyone else — that he lived there because it helped him write — he was trying to write a novel. But it actually distracted him because of all the hot frat guys who haunted the streets. He could sit out on his porch in the evening and spy all the semi-drunk boys scurrying in groups between houses, wearing sleeveless tees and sometimes even less. He knew he’d lived there long enough, though, when Chad knocked on his door one day.
Chad was not very tall, and he wasn’t really muscular, but he was athletic and wiry, and he had very broad shoulders. His most endearing quality, however, were dimples and a perfectly scruffy chin. Those dimples dimpled marvelously when Rob opened the door, because Chad was very nervous. His shoulders were straight, and he bit his lip.
“Uh, so, hey, man… can I borrow… a… roll of orange duct tape.” Rob looked at him blankly. He had no idea what that meant. “You want orange duct tape?” “Yeah, like… orange?” “Right… I, uh… I don’t have any orange duct tape, young man,” Rob said. “Oh.” “Would… black duct tape do?” Rob wasn’t sure he had black duct tape either, but there might have been a roll in the closet. “No! I mean… No,” Chad said. “Is that… butt stuff?” He glanced down the hall, whence Rob heard emanations of snickering. “What?!” Rob poked his head out. A handful more frat boys were peering this way, but they scattered when they saw Rob. Their throaty chuckling filled the air in the hallway. Chad’s cheeks burned bright red. “Is that code?” “No,” Rob said. “What are you talking about?” “Oh, uh, sorry, oh, uh, uh, I, uh, I was all like, all in the… I had things to be in the… they said it, and I said all that that I was like… And so…” Rob clucked his tongue. “You have a bad case of fraternity-induced crazymouth, boy. If you want something from me, you better say it.” “Will you jack my dick?!” He paused and blushed. “With your mouth.” A silence filled the hall. “Well, yes,” Rob said. “But please don’t shout that.” He opened the door, and Chad came in. “Shit, yeah, thanks,” Chad said with a sigh. “So they told you you had to use a code?” Chad nodded. “Okay, I do not like to play games like that, Chad. Girls enjoy that kind of shit. If you want me to jack your dick, just ask, using normal words,” Rob said. “Yes, sir,” Chad said. He sat on the couch. “Thanks, man, I mean, sir-“ “You can call me Rob,” Rob said. “You’re a very polite young man.” Chad was still blushing, holding his breath. He looked like his head might explode. He had a big goofy grin on his face that he couldn’t remove. “I really need the money. Five grand is a lot.” Rob looked at him. “What?” “Five grand, right? That’s what you gave Deshonte Williams.” “Uh… Is that what he’s saying? You tell him he’s got a ten-dollar dick, and I gave him a big tip. I did not pay him five grand,” Rob said. “I don’t have to pay you jack-shit, Chad. You came in here asking me to get you off, remember that? I know you just wanna get your dick wet and you’ll do it for free.” “No way! Deshonte said you pay money!” “Then get five grand out of Deshonte!” Rob said. He grinned. “Okay, I gave Deshonte fifty bucks, which is what I normally pay college boys. But I’ll give you a hundred so you can tell Deshonte to quit talking a bunch of bullshit about me cuz his dick ain’t that good. Tell him I can make sure every girl on campus thinks he’s impotent. So unless he wants that rumor to spread across campus like syphilis, he had better stop bragging about that shit. I paid him fifty bucks.” Rob got on his knees between Chad’s legs. Chad’s eyes opened wide and he blushed. “I… uh… I don’t know if I can…” “Are you scared of Deshonte? He won’t hurt you. He won’t get in a fight because he doesn’t want to ruin that lovely face,” Rob said. “But whatever, you don’t have to say that. Just tell him I said to come talk to me. I’ll give him the message.” “Oh.” Chad still looked scared. He sucked in his breath and closed his eyes. Rob didn’t know if he was actually scared of Deshonte or if he was just nervous about being with a man. Rob stroked Chad’s dick through his jeans, then unzipped the fly. Chad gasped. Rob reached in and pulled out a nice-sized dick. He planted his lips right on the tip and suckled loudly, moistly. Then he stroked it and had Chad take his shirt off. “You’re pledging a frat?” One of Rob’s hands played with his nipples, which made Chad’s pecs flex. Chad nodded and closed his eyes. “Kappa Gamma Pi.” “Oh… is that the frat that does elephant walks?” Chad blushed. “I, uh… I’m not allowed to talk about that stuff.” Rob giggled. He went back to sucking, deep-throating Chad to the root. He could picture Chad doing the elephant walk, maybe with Deshonte himself — wasn’t Deshonte also a Kaggapee? (That was what the Kappa Gamma Pi boys were called on-campus). An elephant walk was when all the pledges formed a line, totally naked, and then gripped the cock of the man behind them (reaching between their own legs) while inserting their other finger into the ass of the man in front of them. That resulted in a line of frat boys manhandling each other. It was incredibly arousing, Rob thought, even if Chad did deny it. Rob sucked on his balls loudly enough to make Chad open his eyes and gasp. Rob giggled. He loved servicing frat boy alphas like him, since so many of them were inexperienced. Chad had probably only been sucked off by a few girls as inexperienced as he was, so he’d most likely never had a worthwhile blowjob. Rob enjoyed blowing his mind. “How is it?” Rob asked. He made eye contact with Chad, who blushed. “Uh… Oh god… It’s… uh…” Chad’s face was bright-red. “It’s…” He bucked and grunted, his whole body shaking as Rob casually stroked him off. Rob hadn’t intended to give Chad such an intense orgasm. But he was on the verge of cumming even before Rob pulled off his cock, and Chad was young and virile enough that he couldn’t stop himself even if he had wanted to. So Rob kept stroking as sticky precum flowed over his hand. “C’mon, swallow it, swallow it…” Chad’s voice was plaintive and desperate. His hands fluttered above Rob’s head. “Hmm… your dick feels so good in my hand…” Rob moaned, thwacking Chad’s cock against his palm. He could feel the cum coursing up the shaft, and he could sense his orgasm in the roiling muscles of Chad’s body. He played like he wasn’t going to put it in his mouth anymore, even as Chad’s ruddy face gasped and begged him to do it. Then, at the last second, as a jet of cum sprayed out, Rob rammed his head all the way down. The sour and intensely bright flavor of cum overloaded Rob’s senses. “Ah, shit, yes!” Chad sighed grandly, his chest rattling, muscles flexing. His cock disappeared all the way down Rob’s throat, his cummy shaft filling Rob’s senses with his salty goodness. Then cum spurted into Rob’s stomach, great creamy gobs of it that just kept on flowing. Chad had big college-boy balls that were overful with his nut, and now it all flowed out at once. It filled Rob up and then kept going, until Rob couldn’t possibly swallow it all. It spilled out and made a big frothy mess on Chad’s crotch. Rob pulled off and took a deep breath. “Goddamn!” Chad’s face was bright red. He looked at his dick as though he had no idea why that happened. Rob giggled. “You certainly earned your fifty dollars.” He wiped cum off the corner of his mouth. “Goddamn!” Chad said again. He was breathless and sweaty, stray drops of cum congealing on his flat belly. “You’re all messy…” Rob said. “You made a mess.” “You’re blaming me?” Rob said. He stood up and wiped his face off. “If you want, you can take a shower before you leave.” “Oh sweet, okay. I don’t really wanna walk out of here smelling of cum.” Rob smiled. “Well, the bathroom is right down the hall. The one rule is that you have to let me shower with you. Do you share showers with your frat brothers?” “Yeah…” His voice was thready and uncertain. Then he stood and chuckled, his voice suddenly deeper and more confident. “I guess I can do that. I got my nut off in a man’s mouth. I got paid to blow a wad.” He smiled like he had just realized all that. “So I can handle sharing a shower.” “Excellent.” Rob grinned as he led Chad into the bathroom. This day, he thought, was turning out better than he had hoped. But he didn’t think he was going to get any writing done.
Rob was expecting Lindsey Wilds to be a woman. He thought he was being all progressive and shit by calling the lady-electrician — something about Lindsey Wilds’ website made that seem like a good idea — Wilds Electric Work had good reviews on Yelp but not suspiciously good, and the website said they did work on weekends. Rob was pretty sure he had never seen a female electrician in person, nor in TV or movies, so it felt like a blow for female empowerment to hire Wilds Electric. He had been without electricity for a camping trip for a weekend, and then came home to a house without electricity and a refrigerator full of rotten food. The whole place stank of fish because of the freezer going out — it actually didn’t smell bad until Rob opened up the fridge and freezer doors, and now nothing would make the smell go away. So he had called Lindsey Wilds, expecting some rough-edged blue-collar woman. Rob cleaned his kitchen the best he could despite the smell and got ready to mop the floor before he was interrupted by the service van pulling into his driveway — Rob was staying at a female vacation property with no servants, so he had to do all the work himself. Rob went to his window expecting to see the Yelp-recommended female electrician. But Yelp had not pointed out that Lindsey was a man, and it certainly didn’t inform Rob he was handsome. So Rob’s knees went weak when he saw him climb out of the service van. Rob had been assuming Lindsey was a woman for so long he continued to think this man was some sort of assistant. Even after the handsome man came to the door and Rob saw the name-tag sewn on his jumpsuit, Rob thought that they had switched jumpsuits as a joke. And then, all at once, while Lindsey examined the fuse-box and the circuit breaker, Rob remembered that Lindsey was a gender-neutral name. He groaned at his mistake but also grinned: If he had known how handsome Lindsey Wilds was, he’d have hired him for sure. Rob loved rough trade, the rougher the better. Lindsey seemed like an excellent, reachable target. He had that “will do anything” vibe that Rob had become an expert in identifying. “The problem is that you got a bad barnhouse fuse, that’s what you call this right here. These old houses in the woods usually have them.” Lindsey kept going, explaining what he had found, but Rob zoned out. He was entranced by Lindsey’s strong jaw and luxurious black hair, which extended well past his shoulders. He was Native American, Rob was fairly certain. Lindsey had dusky skin that was immaculately smooth, with deep-set eyes and broad shoulders. Rob wanted him so bad he could taste it. Lindsey’s jaw was strong and high, totally hairless, as was the part of his chest that Rob could see under the tight tee shirt he wore beneath his jumpsuit. “Uh-huh.” “So I’ll have to replace that. The barnhouse fuse’ll be four hundred dollars. The labor to replace it, that’ll be maybe another…” Lindsey paused and took a quick, sneaky look around the house. “Another four hundred, so like eight hundred total-“ “I have homeowner’s insurance,” Rob said. “They’ll cover it.” He grinned. It was obvious Lindsey had looked at Rob’s furnishings and decided to charge him a lot. Rob wasn’t surprised — he was, in fact, very wealthy. But that was why his dad had homeowner’s insurance. When you were rich, every plumber, electrician and handyman upped his rates to compensate. Rob didn’t have the time or wherewithal to negotiate with them, so his dad paid a homeowner’s insurance company to do it instead. Lindsey furrowed his brow. “Fine. I will call them,” he said. Rob gave him his insurance card, and Lindsey stepped away to make a call. He returned quickly to say that they would call him back with an approval or not. Rob cleared his throat. “Maybe we could pass the time somehow,” Rob said with a seductive smile. That bulge in Lindsey’s jumpsuit attracted his eye and made him giggle winsomely. “I was thinking… I could pay you an extra five hundred dollars for something-“ Lindsey’s face was dour, looking down on Rob as though he thought Rob should know how to do this stuff. “Your homeowner’s insurance will probably cover it, you don’t need to pay. They might not pay for the nice replacement barnhouse fuse, so it’ll probably blow out again in a year or so. You could pay the difference. You really get what you pay for, either a really cheap Mexican-made one that’ll last you a year or a nicer one made in Germany that’ll last a lifetime. You won’t need to pay five hundred dollars though, the difference between them is like a hundred bucks-“ “There’s no… American-made option?” Rob asked. He thought his seductive tone should be obvious, but Lindsey just shrugged like he didn’t notice. Rob’s eyes roamed up and down his body, checking out the bulge of his crotch in that electrician’s jumpsuit. He had a nice plump ass too, and his hands were just a bit gnarled and callused, with some scars perhaps from being shocked — Rob loved a nice pair of blue-collar hands, especially in this case because they were a stark contrast to the pristine look of Lindsey’s face and his unblemished skin everywhere other than his hands. Rob batted his eyes at Lindsey. “I was hoping for something American and solid and-“ Lindsey shrugged and went to the fusebox to point it out. “No, there’s no American manufacturer. The people who built this house used the Mexican kind, see? It says ‘Made in Mexico’-“ “No, I was offering you five hundred dollars to do-“ Lindsey pointed into the fusebox, his finger glancingly touching a bit of exposed wire with the end of his fingernail. An explosion of sparks filled the air. Rob was just inches from Lindsey’s body, smelling the cheap deodorant covering up his masculine scent, and his heart nearly leapt into his throat. For just a moment, he thought Lindsey was so handsome he had exploded. And then he realized it was the fuse-box. Lindsey collapsed to the ground and grunted, while sparks rained upon the carpet of Rob’s basement. “Oh… Oh shit!” Rob ran to Lindsey, stopping himself at the last second so he didn’t touch him — he wasn’t sure if he was conducting electricity; Rob didn’t want to electrocute himself. Then Rob saw the sparks on the carpet triggering smoldering and flames. This house is about to burn down. “Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh… Shit… Fuck! Fire! Fire!” Rob yelled as though there were firemen within earshot. Stop panicking and do something! This was all happening so fast, he thought, he couldn’t decide what to do. Help Lindsey and risk getting shocked? Put the fire out somehow? How could he put the fire out? Lindsey groaned and moved, so Rob knew he was still alive. Rob darted into the bathroom, and, unable to find any other container, he grabbed the mop-bucket he had gotten ready with heavy-duty cleaning solvents in order to get that smell out of the kitchen. He wheeled it out into the den. He dumped the water over the floor, and it sizzled, putting out the fire before it got out of control. Lindsey staggered to his feet. He looked dizzy, and his hair was frizzy, no longer laying perfectly straight behind him. The carpet now stank of mopwater — the water had been clean and soapy, in preparation for mopping upstairs, but the bucket itself stank of stale mopwater. So the entire basement reeked of soil and whatever muck clung to the mop-bucket. “Oh god…” “Are you okay?” Rob asked. It occurred to him only now that there was a fire-extinguisher on the patio, right outside, by the barbecue — that would have been quicker than the mop-bucket. He felt like an idiot; he went to all the trouble of buying a fire-extinguisher and then forgot about it when he needed it. Lindsey nodded. He held up his hand to show that the fingers he had touched the fusebox with were scorched black. His arms and legs jittered. “I think… there is something else wrong besides the barnhouse fuse.” His cell phone chirped and he turned off the ringer. “That was your homeowner’s insurance, but the quote I asked them for no longer applies. I’m going to need to turn the electricity off here at the circuit breaker.” “Yeah, sure, yeah,” Rob said. “Yeah. Cool.” He was still too exhilarated from the electrocution and near-fire to think about anything else, even Lindsey’s body. “You were offering to hire me for something else before I touched the fusebox?” Lindsey said. He wrinkled his nose, the mop-bucket smell growing more intense by the moment. “Yeah, stick me,” Rob said with a sigh. He looked at the carpet. “I’m going to have to get new carpet down here. This is nasty, it smells like a burnt dog-“ “Stick you?” Rob nodded. “I could shampoo it, but that won’t get the scorch marks out. It was a nasty carpet to begin with.” “You want to hire me to stick you?” Rob looked up. He hadn’t mean to be so abrupt about it. He was so focused on what had just happened that it had all slipped out without thinking about it. “Yeah, uh… Sorry, I was… I just wanted to offer you five hundred dollars to cornhole me. Sorry. I usually am, uh… Sorry, I’m unfocused right now.” Lindsey was silent for a long time. His face was expressionless except for the furrowing of his eyebrows. “You want to… cornhole me?” “No! No, I’m a bottom, I want you to cornhole me.” “Oh.” Lindsey shook his head. “No way. I’m not a pervert. I…” He sighed. “No.” “Okay, cool, no problem, no biggie,” Rob said. He was disappointed, but rejection came with being into rough trade. Lindsey didn’t even look like he might haggle, so Rob didn’t offer more money. This day had turned out to be too stressful to worry much about that anyway, and Rob could always go to the biker bar if he got really horny; there was always someone there with a slab of meat Rob could swing on. Lindsey just turned off the electricity for a few hours, and Rob played on his cell phone upstairs since he couldn’t really do much else without power. He had re-stocked the refrigerator and freezer, and now, he thought, it was all going to go bad again. Around five o’clock, the electricity turned back on, Lindsey came upstairs and said he had fixed it — he hadn’t gotten to the barnhouse fuse, but he had fixed the main circuit breaker, and that meant the house could have working electricity for now. It would probably break within a week again, but by then, he’d have fixed the fuse so the circuit breaker didn’t get overloaded again. Lindsey left, leaving Rob in the living room to watch his ass shake as he got in his van and drove off. Rob was disappointed, but that near-disaster earlier today had left him so shook up he didn’t think about it too much. Today could have gone much worse than simply not getting laid. Rob even thought about going out to one of his regular haunts — he could go to the biker bar, for example, where there was always some one up for a bit of fun. He just didn’t feel like it though. That was another reason he hadn’t offered Lindsey more money. He had been reminded of his own mortality, and Rob couldn’t stop thinking of what it would be like to die from fire, electrocution or smoke. So he just stayed in for the night. Tomorrow, he thought, he’d find an electrician he could jack off. If not Lindsey, than someone else. It was nearly midnight when he heard a knock on the door. Rob saw through the window that it was Lindsey, his tall, stately body tottering on unsteady legs. He was obviously drunk. He looked bleary-eyed and half-asleep. “Hey, hi, Lindsey, what’s up? Are you okay?” “I…” Lindsey burped and swayed as though the burp had knocked him off-balance. “I… I wh-whi-lllllll do it.” “What?” “I’ll… I’ll lll lll lll ll lll…” He laughed at his own torrent of L-sounds. “Lllllllllllluh…” “Lindsey, I-?” “I’ll do it!” He blurted out. “The whole… uh…thing. Doin’ it. That… thing.” He pointed to his own crotch. “That.” “Yeah, okay, I get it, but uh… you’re very drunk.” He nodded. Then he launched into a long, incomprehensible drunken monologue. “Thass all I was… wassssh all at the… … sssssshump all ovuh…. … … There I ahhhhm! What issssssh it? I will do… what I, I am in the nnnnnnnnnnight, at that… Where I am.” He belched again and took a deep breath. He scrunched his eyes up. Then he over-enunciated with all the effort he could muster. “I. Am. Drunk. Enoughffffffff. Right. Now. To. Do. It. Diiiiick. Diiiiick.” He laughed at the word. “Diiiiiiiiiick.” “Uh… no,” Rob said. “You’re way too drunk. You’d probably puke on me.” “What? You — You — You — You — You offffffffffered, man, you sssshaid it, you-“ “Lindsey, I never said I’d do it any time no matter what. You’re much too drunk. Did you drive here?” He looked at the van, which had been parked slightly off the driveway, one wheel crushing Rob’s begonias. “Damn it, you are way too drunk to drive. You killed my begonias.” “No I ammm… ammmmm… I am not!” he shouted triumphantly but then tripped over his own foot and leaned against the house for support. “You’re too drunk to stand, you obviously can’t drive. Or anything else,” Rob said. Then he realized there was little point in trying to be polite and convince him of anything — he was too drunk to think and wouldn’t remember this tomorrow anyway. “Do you want to come in?” “You willlllll… get me off?” “No,” Rob said, but he motioned for Lindsey to come in. Lindsey frowned and arduously stepped up into the house. He grunted and roared in frustration. “You ssssshaid you would!” “No, I — Nevermind, just go lay down on the couch. I’ll jack you off in a minute,” Rob said. Lindsey flopped onto the couch, sighed, tried to undo his jeans but just fumbled for a few seconds before quitting. He murmured something about Rob taking his pants off, and then he was asleep. He snored loudly. Rob sighed and took Lindsey’s shoes off, but nothing else — he didn’t want Lindsey to think Rob had touched him during the night. Rob then laid out a glass of water, some aspirin and a bowl to vomit in, before he went to bed by himself. The house was quiet all night, Lindsey passed out cold and Rob sleeping soundly. Rob awoke late, to the sound of water running in the kitchen. He crept out to see if Lindsey was alright. He must have undressed in the night, Rob thought, because he wore nothing but a pair of boxer shorts now. His muscular torso gleamed. He was rinsing out that vomit bowl, and his hair was wet like he had taken a shower. A few drops of moisture remained on his golden-bronze back, which was broad, gleaming, curving as he flexed his shoulders muscles wiping out the bowl. “You should not have let me in,” Lindsey said without turning around. Rob blushed. Had it been obvious he was looking at Lindsey’s ass from behind? “I would have been fine sleeping on the ground outside,” Lindsey said. “Oh, well… Yeah, I guess that’d be fine,” Rob said. He shrugged. “Are you feeling okay?” Lindsey nodded. “I do not get hungover.” “Cool, cool,” Rob said with a nervous laugh. “Are you…?” “Still going to cornhole you for money? Yes,” Lindsey said. He turned around and sighed. He dropped his boxer shorts, revealing a big uncut cock that he thwacked against his palm. “Five hundred dollars.” Rob nodded and blushed. “Are you still going to fix the fusebox today too?” “Yes. Hurry up and I will get to it today,” Lindsey said with a dramatic sigh like this was a big imposition for him. He scowled and Rob sunk to his knees in front of him. Lindsey grabbed a pack of cigarettes off the counter and lit one, pointedly glaring at Rob as though daring him to object. Rob didn’t mind that bad — the house already reeked of rotten food, mopwater and scorched carpet, so he could hardly complain about a little cigarette smoke. Though Lindsey himself smelled clean, his cock was deliciously filthy. It reeked of cigarettes and beer — Rob suspected he had spilled beer on himself last night, or someone else did, and Lindsey’s shower today had been hungover, quick and focused more on his head and hair than on getting his whole body genuinely clean.
It was musty too, and it stayed semi-limp in Rob’s mouth for a couple minutes, presumably because Lindsey had been so drunk last night. He had beer-dick at first. Then Lindsey’s motionless body twitched, and he shifted his weight on his feet. His cock finally popped into full erection and throbbed in Rob’s throat. Lindsey acted as though he wasn’t allowed to touch Rob’s head; his hands flailed and moving around at his side, while he pistoned his hips back and forth. Rob didn’t use his hands either, so he focused entirely on loosening up his throat. That way Lindsey could plow in and out, treating Rob’s throat as a tight pussy, without any need for hands.
“Ah, yes…” Lindsey closed his eyes. His broad chest muscles rippled, and then flexed all at once when Rob reached up to touch them — Lindsey was surprised; the girls he was with rarely did anything like that. This, he thought, was much better than he had predicted. It wasn’t awkward at all, once he got past his initial inhibitions. Pleasure shot up his spine, and he forgot about the lingering pain in his hand from when he had been shocked. He put his arms behind his back, enjoying the challenge of ramming his cock down Rob’s throat completely hands-free. “Are you ready to cornhole me?” Rob asked when he finally pulled off. He tasted precum on his tongue, salty and sunny, and a little beery too. It was strongly flavored but copious and watered, again presumably because of all the heavy-drinking last night. “Yes,” Lindsey said. He tried to look nonchalant. He ran his fingers through his long hair, which shimmered — it was cleaner than it had been for awhile because he washed it very well in the shower this morning. He still felt just a bit queasy, but the more he did, the more his post-drunk mind cleared up. He was glad Rob had refused him last night. Lindsey would have felt like a jerk if he had woken up today having passed out all over Rob’s bed. Plus, last night he would have been sloppy and probably wouldn’t even remember it today. This felt good enough he didn’t want to forget. His eyes lit up at the sight of Rob’s bare ass. He had psyched himself up last night as he drank by thinking he could get through cornholing a man despite his ass being big and hairy and gross — but that had always been a worst-case scenario. Lindsey had known even before he started drinking that Rob was kind of girlish, almost as hairless as Lindsey, and not at all gross. He had simply prepared himself so much for the worst-case scenario that he had forgotten that was not the scenario he was in. Rob’s ass was tight, his cheeks plump, pure white and unblemished like porcelain. Lindsey kneaded his flesh with one hand as he rubbed his dick in Rob’s asscrack. He just humped his hole at first, waiting for Rob to buckle and moan with desire. “Oh god, stick it in me!” Rob panted, his ass tingling and begging. He needed it inside him. He couldn’t think about anything else. He lowered his head, lifted his ass and rammed it right back on Lindsey’s crotch, with one hand craned behind himself to guide it in. Lindsey smirked. It felt good to not have to use his hands once again. He could just stand there and wait for his orgasm to come — it barely even counted, he thought, he was just standing here with an erection, and he was only here, he could always claim later, to fix the fusebox. But as his orgasm approached, Lindsey found he didn’t want to stand there anymore, letting Rob do all the work. He wanted to plow. He let out a simmering growl, bent his knees a bit and grabbed ahold of Rob’s side roughly. Rob winced and moaned with desire. Lindsey gripped him on both sides and rammed his ass back hard. “Shit!” Rob cried out as pain and bliss flowed through him in equal measure. His ass rubbed against Lindsey’s crotch, and Lindsey started plowing into him repeatedly, using all his might to get deep in his ass. Lindsey swayed his hips back and forth. He threw his head back, long wet hair dangling behind him. His chest muscles rippled and the veins in his neck popped against the surface. “Ah, goddamn…” For a moment, Lindsey thought, it was like Rob disappeared, leaving behind just a tight hole that Lindsey could do with as he pleasure. He could demolish his ass, which was so moist and drippy that it was like sticking his dick in an ocean. Lindsey didn’t even realize he was already cumming — it felt so good he wasn’t aware of his own orgasm until it hit him like a punch to the head. He howled and slapped Rob’s cheeks, the rippling of his flesh sending Lindsey to new heights of pleasure. He wasn’t even aware of Rob jacking himself off, onto the kitchen floor, at the same time. It was like nothing mattered but the intense pleasure coursing through Lindsey’s veins, little sparks of orgasmic energy flying across his field of vision. He had never experienced anything like it. “Goddamn,” was all he said as he fell limp, flopping onto the ground on his ass. I wish women let me plow like that. He snorted and wiped sweat off his forehead. He had just showered, and now, he thought, he felt dirty again. Rob was sprawled out on the floor. He had rarely been ramrodded so hard, and it was especially surprising in this case because Lindsey began so withdrawn and reserved. He had even refused first — Rob didn’t often experience a second-chance that went well. Rob stood on sore legs as the phone on the counter buzzed. He glanced at it and handed it to Lindsey. Lindsey listened to a voice-mail, frowning, still sprawled out on the floor, his chest dappled with sweat. “Bah,” Lindsey said, “Your homeowner’s insurance won’t cover anything to do with the barnhouse fuse. They want their own electrician to make sure you’ve been maintaining it. Which you haven’t been, so your insurance won’t cover it.” “What maintenance?” Rob asked. He knew he was annoyed, he felt that annoyance in the back of his mind — what had been the point of buying homeowner’s insurance?!?!?! — but it all seemed distant and unimportant. “You’re supposed to flip the circuit breaker on and off once a year. I could tell you never did it. No one ever does. These old houses with-“ “That’s bullshit…” Rob sighed. It was hard to get worked up about stuff when basking in post-orgasmic glow. He shrugged. “Fine. I’ll just pay for it. Will it take you all day?” Lindsey smirked and nodded. “I might have to come back tomorrow,” he said. “And do even more work for you.” Rob blushed before agreeing. “Well,” Rob said with a chuckle. “Go ahead and get started.”
Rob was bored. He felt like crying as he sat there and endured the world’s most hideous presentation. He considered prying his eyelids open. It was so boring it hurt. He couldn’t even think of anything exciting to do, like this presentation was so boring it made other things less exciting through contagion, like it crowded out the part of Rob’s brain that could experience excitement. What was an exciting thing? Planes… Explosions… Movies? The only movie Rob could remember was Nanook of the North, which he had watched in film class. And that Andy Warhol movie that was just a twelve-hour video of a skyscraper. Excitement was a real thing, wasn’t it? Rob felt like prying his eyelids off. It was a presentation about the relative popularity of the costs of implementing various water purification strategies in certain parts of rural Colorado. The presenter was a dour-faced black woman who was probably chosen as a presenter because she was beautiful. Rob didn’t care about her. He only came here because he wanted to humiliate his father yet again. But there were no good opportunities. He could just rip all his clothes off in the middle of the meeting — that would certainly add some excitement — but he’d done that before. People just assumed he had a psychotic break or an alcohol problem, something like that. Rob was a billionaire’s son, so everyone found it easy to believe there was something wrong with him. No, if he was going to humiliate his father today, it would have to be something else. His father periodically set him up with companies to manage, in the hopes of pushing him towards a more responsible future. But Rob hated his father with a fiery passion, so he always ran those companies into the ground (or just ignored them). Today he was in Colorado, taking control of a county government services company. Rob was supposed to help them expand into state and federal government contracts. A woman came into the meeting. She meekly apologized for interrupting it. She needed Mr. Jameson, the CEO, to sign something. Mr. Jameson scowled a little like he was annoyed, not at being interrupted, but at the thing he needed to sign. “Another one? Tell him to keep it in his pants, for Ch-f-sh…” It sounded like he was going to say for Christ’s sake, then for fuck’s sake, then for shit’s shake but didn’t want to curse because Rob was here, so he just stammered and said nothing. “He’s going to be a slave sooner or later.” Mr. Jameson suddenly blushed intensely. He coughed like he hadn’t meant to say that. He glanced at Mrs. Molene, the presenter, the only black person in the room. She was on the other side of the conference table so it didn’t seem that she heard what he said. Rob’s eyes opened. This, he thought, was a thing. He didn’t know what, but there was clearly something happening here. He excused himself and made his way out into the hall after the woman, who hurried towards the door marked Human Resources at the end of the hall. She glanced at Rob. “The bathrooms are down that way, sir-“ “That’s not why I came out,” Rob said. He glanced at the clipboard. “Is that…?” The human resources lady did not know that Rob was not a businessman. She assumed he was given this company because he wanted to, and knew how to, run it. So she assumed that he asked to see the paperwork because it was relevant to his business, which indeed it was. That simply wasn’t why Rob wanted to see it. It was a court order, demanding that the company garnish the wages of Jaekwan Malcolm Brown. One hundred and seventy-eight dollars were to be taken from his paychecks and sent to a child-support-payments processing company. “It’s just a garnishment order, sir,” she said. She blushed. “It’s okay, we know how to do it. Mr. Brown has… other garnishments on his file.” Rob made a serious face like his father would have. “Well, ma’am,” he said, “I’m going to have to investigate this. Where do I find Mr. Brown?” “He works in the warehouse,” she said. She watched him walk away like she was nervous, like she was supposed to stop him — which was technically true, since human resources matters were supposed to be confidential. But Rob didn’t care. The more rules he broke, the more embarrassed his father would be, and then Rob wouldn’t have to run any more companies into the ground for a little while. He went down to the warehouse on the first floor. About twenty guys worked there shipping and receiving supplies. A huge part of the warehouse was filled with blue recycling bins. The warehouse guys didn’t know who Rob was, and he didn’t really carry himself like an executive, so they didn’t react to him. He asked where Jaekwan was and they said only that he was around here somewhere. Rob soon found him among the stacks of blue recycling bins. He didn’t know that’s who it was at first. That’s because he didn’t see him right away. He heard him first. It sounded like someone trying to lift something heavy. There was a girl there too. Rob smiled when he realized it was the sound of sex. It was him. Jaekwan wore the blue pants and polo shirt of the warehouse workers, but he had pulled the pants down and lifted the shirt over his head. He had a tight grip on a thick woman’s hair as he pounded into her. She was Debra, and she was the married receptionist at the pool services company next door. She was thick and not especially attractive, Rob thought. Jaekwan, however, was perfect. He was young and tall and ropy-muscled, not exactly thick but not skinny by any means. He had cornrows and deep, dark skin inked with blueish tattoos. He let out a growl as he filled Debra’s pussy with his seed. Rob watched cum drip down onto the floor. “Damn, girl, you treat me right,” he said. He grinned, showing off his deep dimples. His massive dick flopped out of her body limply. Debra blushed and whispered something to him. Jaekwan bent over and kissed her on the forehead. “Nah, baby, I can’t kiss you on the lips. You sucked my dick earlier. That’s nasty.” “Jaekwan! I’m leaving my husband for you!” She looked down at her feet as she pulled her panties up. “Don’t. I tol’ you not to, baby,” he said. He already had his phone out and was texting someone, his pants still around his ankles, cock bobbing around and dripping a few remnants of cum and pussyjuice onto the warehouse floor. “Come on…” “No.” He pulled his pants up and scowled at her. “That ain’t the kinda nigga I am. You best get back to yo’ office, baby.” He walked away with a noticeable pimp lean. He didn’t pull his shirt back down, so his sweat-dappled chest was bare. Rob had a feeling he did that because it would imply to his fellow workers that he had had sex in the stacks of recycling bins. Sure enough, he heard their deep-throated greetings, slapping hands and macho boasting. It all erupted at once so he couldn’t hear exactly what was said, but the meaning was clear. They must have known he was here fucking a woman. Rob tried to make his way back to the main part of the warehouse without being seen, but he made slow progress. He heard Jaekwan become upset about something. He shouted curses about lawyers and judges, which Rob took to mean he found out his paycheck had been garnished yet again. Soon the warehouse guys filtered out. Rob’s cell phone blew up with text messages from the executives upstairs — they didn’t know where he went, and they needed him to make a decision on some issue that bored Rob so much he couldn’t possibly choose. So he turned his cell phone off. Jaekwan worked later than the others because it was his turn to clean up. That meant he had to sweep and double-check that all of the heavy machinery was turned off and unplugged, so he was to leave some half an hour after the others. He was supposed to verify that the office was empty, lock the warehouse door and close the gate too. That gave Rob an idea. He went around Jaekwan — who swept with earbuds in, so it was easy to sneak around him — and went upstairs. He wrote Hey Jaekwan, you wanna make a thousand dollars by demolishing some ass? on a whiteboard, with an arrow pointing into the CEO’s office. Rob went in there and bent over with his bare ass high in the air. He covered himself in lube. Finally he heard Jaekwan come upstairs. He opened the door from the stairwell and called out, “Hey! Any motherfucker here?” He sounded angry. Rob paused, waiting for him to come in here. He was supposed to check that no one was in the office. The company’s insurance required him to look in each room. But he didn’t. Rob hadn’t even considered the possibility that Jaekwan might not actually do it. Rob hurried out into the hall once he heard the doors slam shut. Am I gonna be locked in? He made his way to the stairwell. Jaekwan was down on the first floor. “Hey Jaekwan! Hey!” But his earbuds were still in. Jaekwan danced a little as he went down the steps, murmuring along with the song. He had a bitter, angry look because he was still mad about the garnishment order. He was pretty sure that kid wasn’t his anyway. Rob made it into the warehouse behind Jaekwan. He shouted and even knocked over a recycling bin to try to get his attention. Jaekwan opened the bay doors. He stood there waiting for them to open. Then he stepped out and pushed the button to close them. He only turned around and saw Rob sprinting through the warehouse towards him as the bay door slid shut in front of him. “Hey!” “Yo! Hey! Was someone in there?!” There was a moment’s silence. Rob kept running even as the lights flicked off. He was plunged into pitch-blackness and rammed face-first into the bay door just as it began raising once again. Pain exploded in his nose. “Ow, fuck!” “Hello? Mister? Who in there?” Jaekwan sneered when the door opened. He took the earbuds out of his ear. Rob was out of breath. “Hey. Sorry. Hey. I’m… I’m Rob.” “Rob? Do you work here?” “Sorta… I… own… it.” “You own it? Own what?” Rob gestured all around him. “This.” It looked like Jaekwan either didn’t understand or didn’t believe him. He scowled. “What?” “I own this place. I’m Rob Winthrop.” “Oh.” His eyes lit up. “Oh! You’re that guy?!” “Yeah. That’s me.” He paused, then forced a smile on his face. “Yo. Uh, hey! Hey… Nice to meet’cha, sir.” He shook Rob’s hand. “Don’t…” Rob wanted to tell him not to be so polite, to not treat him like a boss. But he was still out of breath. It had been exciting, he thought, after a day of boring work, he had had to race or be locked in overnight. “Don’t what?” “Sorry, uh…” Rob said. He leaned against the wall. He took a deep breath. “We’re not at work anymore. You don’t have to call me sir. I mean, you can call me Rob even at work, but now you should really call me Rob.” He took a deep breath. “Oh. Okay, Rob. I’m Jaekwan.” He grinned. “Sorry I was in a bad mood earlier. I, uh… I’m kinda upset-“ “I know. I heard. You got your wages garnished.” He nodded. “Man, I can’t get ahead. It ain’t fair. Court fees got me down. Costs so damn much…” He paused and spat on the ground. “You alright? Did you fall asleep in there or what?” “No, not that,” Rob said. He took a deep breath. “I wrote something upstairs — we should…” He chuckled. “Nevermind. It’ll be a surprise tomorrow.” He paused. “I was hoping to talk to you.” “Me?” “I would be willing to help you with your court fees and child support,” Rob said. “But you gotta do something for me.” “Hmm?” “Cornhole me.” His eyes opened wide. “What?” “I want you to cornhole me. I’ll get you hard-“ “Okay.” He paused. Then he paused and bristled a little. He looked around, shutting the bay door behind himself. “I mean… how much? I don’t do that pervert shit. You gotta pay-“ “Jaekwan, it would be more effective if you negotiated before you said okay.” “I ain’t mean to say okay. I was…” He smiled like he had been caught in a lie. “You gotta pay a lot. I don’t do this. It’s, y’know… You gotta pay me a lotta money. Twenty grand.” Rob choked. “Shit, are you serious?” “Twenty grand.” “Jaekwan…” “What, man?!” “I’m not paying you twenty grand.” “Why not? I got good nigga dick!” He grabbed his cock through his crotch and snorted. “Bam!” “That’s not happening, Jaekwan. I’m not paying twenty grand,” Rob said. “I was gonna offer two hundred dollars.” “Man…” He sucked on his teeth. “Five hundred dollars.” “Fine.” Rob shook his hand and giggled. “Did you really think I was gonna pay twenty grand?” He opened the door to the warehouse and led Rob in. “Man, you should pay that. I’m good, man. I swear. I can stick you so good-“ “There is no way you do it twenty-grand good. Unless your jizz is Apple stock, it can’t be that valuable.” He sniffled. He stepped into the warehouse, leaned against a wall and lifted his shirt over his head again. “I’m worth twenty grand, man.” “Well, prove it,” Rob said as he dropped to his knees.
He unzipped his jeans and let a thick black cock flop out over Rob’s face. He laughed and slapped Rob on the cheek with it. “You like nigga dick, huh?” Rob giggled, blushed and nodded. That wasn’t exactly true — Rob loved all kinds of men. One funny thing about them was that they always assumed he had a fetish for their type. He didn’t have a special love for black guys, but whenever he jerked one off, they assumed he had a black-men fetish. Whenever he jerked off a Texan, they thought he had a fetish for Texans. When he jerked off plumbers or Mexicans or stuntmen or bus drivers or Native Americans, they always assumed he had sought them out for their identity. He didn’t bother to explain that because he knew from personal experience that Jaekwan would just think he was lying anyway.
“Uh-huh…” Rob licked his dick from tip to root. It twitched and got hard in his hand. He kept licking, not sucking until it was fully hard and throbbing where it lay against his face. “Why ain’t white boys offer money more? Huh?” Rob went right to throating it. He didn’t really understand what Jaekwan was asking, and Rob was too focused on his cock to consider it. He slurped up all the day’s sweat off Jaekwan’s dick, while his hands roamed up to Jaekwan’s perfectly flat belly. “Huh? Man?” He grabbed Rob by the ears and pulled him off his dick. “What’choo think? My daddy always said-“ “Lemme get-” Rob stuck his tongue out. He managed to tease the tip of Jaekwan’s dick, but Jaekwan wouldn’t let him go back to it. Rob pushed against his hand with his tongue out. Jaekwan’s dick, which still stank of that fat girl’s pussy, throbbed half-hard, tantalizingly close to Rob’s face. “My daddy used to say that you could get white boys to pay you for dick, to make they dick better. Like if’n you swallow some big nigga dick, it make yo’ dick bigger. He say he got this white man who pay a thousand dollars to jack ‘im off. He got all these rules-“ “C’mon…” Rob managed to break free and taste his dick for a few seconds, his mouth plunging deep on Jaekwan’s shaft, but Jaekwan pulled him off without missing a beat. “He got rules, like you can go behind a swanky nightclub and they’s always gonna be there, givin’ cats dome. But I done that and ain’t no one there but some swishy sissy passed out cold. Ain’t even have no money in his wallet.” He paused. “Well, answer it, man.” Rob rolled his eyes. “You didn’t ask a question.” He really wanted to get back to Jaekwan’s dick. He had one hand on the base, stroking it slowly, hoping to get Jaekwan hard enough he’d get on with it. He furrowed his brow. “What up with that?” “That’s… I don’t know, uh… I mean… Your dad, uh… sounds like he’s full of shit.” He threw his hands in the air. “I know, right?!” “Maybe it used to be true. Maybe when he was growing up, there were guys offering money behind a nightclub. That’s not, like, a tradition though,” Rob said. “Can I get back to your dick now?” “Yeah, man, go for it.” He wrinkled his nose like he hadn’t made Rob stop. He moaned as Rob immediately throated him deeply. He leaned against the wall. “Shit, man…” He paused. “We should set up some regular thing, man. Like… I can come over, and you can pay me-“ “No.” Rob smiled. “Sorry. I don’t do that.” “Man-“ “Do you have a girlfriend?” “What?” “Do you have a serious girlfriend?” Rob stroked his dick and teased it, tracing the veins that ran up and down the shaft with his tongue. Jaekwan scoffed. “Nah. I don’t do that. I got bitches I fuck wit’.” “Well, I only got dudes I mess with,” Rob said. “I’m not going to be sticking around here. I’ll call you up when I’m in the area.” “Like a bootycall?” “If you like.” He frowned. He watched his dick disappear down Rob’s throat. “Yo, man, you prolly know lots of pervs, right?” Rob nodded without taking his dick out of his throat. “You should give ’em my number. Tell ’em I got good nigga dick. Tell ’em five hundred dollars but I can negotiate. No, wait, tell ’em I don’t negotiate, but like… hint that I might. But don’t hint toward any rich ones. You know rich folk? Don’t give ’em an amount. I’ll say-“ “Jaekwan, shush,” Rob said. He slurped up the precum starting to leak out of Jaekwan’s piss-slit, despite the fact that Jaekwan was seemingly not paying attention to what Rob was doing. “Man…” Jaekwan sucked on his teeth. “I don’t know any one who would pay you-“ “You know girls who pay for sex? I’ll be a gigolo. I’ll fuck fat chicks, no problem. Old chicks too, I don’t care. I’ll do it. Hundred bucks. Plus expenses, if they want me to take ’em out to dinner or somethin’.” He beamed like this was an act of charity he should be commended for. “I eat pussy real good too. See?” Rob sighed. He kept stroking Jaekwan’s dick with one hand, while Jaekwan pulled out his cell phone. He played a video for Rob, showing Jaekwan eating some woman’s pussy. Jaekwan was holding the camera as it recorded and as he licked her vagina, so it was a blurry, poorly-shot video. It was held so close it looked like some alien creature giving birth to a man but his tongue got stuck. “See? Look, man, I eat pussy so good.” Rob rolled his eyes. “Jaekwan, quit it. I don’t know any girls who will pay you for sex.” “I’ll give ’em the first time for free,” he said. Rob just ignored him though. Rob decided to move on. He turned around, dropped his pants and bent over. He stuck his ass high in the air. Jaekwan’s voice trailed off as he looked at Rob’s tight bottom. “Shit…” “You ready?” He wedged his thick dick between Rob’s cheeks. There was a moment of merciful silence, which seemed spookily sepulchral in the high-ceilinged warehouse. The tip of his dick slid in, and Rob grunted. “Oh!” Jaekwan slapped Rob’s asscheek. “I got an idea. You like nigga dick, right? I know all kinda niggas. You gimme a hundred bucks per nigga, I can send you like a million of ’em. You gonna be drownin’ in nut-“ “Jaekwan, stop-“ “I could send you like twenty of ’em tonight. Like all them warehouse dudes-“ “I don’t have a black-guy fetish.” “What?” “I won’t just mess with any black guy,” Rob said. “I think you are desirable. You, personally. None of the other warehouse guys.” He looked taken aback, like he hadn’t thought Rob was capable of showing discretion. He stood there with just the first half-an-inch of his dick in Rob’s ass. “Oh. Well, what kinda black guys you like? I can send you ’em. You want big dicks? I’ll measure dicks, I don’t care. I can do that. Shit, us warehouse niggas all gangbanged this chick last year. I saw most of they dicks then, and Jerome Nicklebee accidentally shot most of his nut on my shoulder-“ “I don’t like them!” Rob shouted. “C’mon, Jaekwan, you gotta cornhole me. I don’t like the other warehouse guys.” “Not even Malik Jumper? He got a six-pack, swear to God-“ “No!” Rob had no idea if he had seen Malik before, but he didn’t want to talk about this anymore. Jaekwan grumbled. “Man… you ain’t nice. I know all kinda niggas.” He drilled his dick in a little deeper. “I can hook you up wit’ any nigga you want. We can go drivin’, you pick someone out, on Center Street, there’s always tons of niggas there, most of ’em shirtless in summertime. I don’t know ’em all, but you gimme two hundred bucks, I’ll find ’em. Don’t tell them how much you payin’ me, cuz I’ll only give them fifty bucks-“ “Jaekwan, stop it. I’m not giving you any money for anything besides cornholing me right now. That means you gotta stop talking about other stuff. You gotta focus on cornholing me. You gotta earn your money.” Jaekwan let out an annoyed growl. “Fine.” He pumped his hips, gradually shoving more of his dick in. At first it hurt — he was in a bad mood and didn’t try to make it feel good, then he remembered he was being paid and he made long, slow, smooth motions with his hips. “That feel good, baby?” His voice was seductive, like he was talking to a girl. “Hmm… Yeah…” Rob backed his ass up until he felt Jaekwan’s pubic hair and crotch on his ass. He moaned, which made Jaekwan laugh like a cocky bastard. Jaekwan wrapped one arm around Rob’s face. His father had told him that you should put men in a chokehold when you cornhole them, so that was what he did. It was a little gross because he was so sweaty — the air conditioning was off, so it was getting hot in the warehouse — but Jaekwan didn’t mind the sweat. He went down to the ground with Rob. His shirt was over his head, his pants around his ankles. Jaekwan pounded away at Rob’s ass, his bare chest pressing down on Rob’s back. He stopped moving with his cock all the way in Rob. “Hey. Do you smoke weed? You want weed? I can get you great weed. Or coke. Or Ecstasy, man, I do it all. You want pills? I can get oxies, or-“ “No,” Rob said through gritted teeth. “Damn it… I thought rich guys did lots of drugs.” “Jaekwan. If you’re going to cornhole me, please focus on cornholing me,” Rob said. He grunted. The pressure in his ass was intense. It felt good too, but it was hard to have a conversation right now. He was ensconced in Jaekwan’s powerful arms. “Oh. Yeah.” He sounded like he had forgotten his dick was in Rob’s ass. He slammed all the way in and out, grinding his cock deeply into Rob’s tight hole. “Shit, you got a nice ass…” “You have an amazing cock…” Rob said. “I know! You should pay me more, man, that’s what-“ “Shut up,” Rob said through gritted teeth. Jaekwan sighed and kept plowing. He grumbled a little too himself as he went, and he tightened his grip on Rob’s arm. The one nice thing about sticking men, he thought, was that they didn’t complain about going at them too hard. A girl would have made him slow down by now. He was about to ask if Rob needed any work done on his car — Jaekwan was a pretty good mechanic — when an orgasm erupted deep within him. Jaekwan slapped Rob’s ass and pounded him into the ground. He didn’t even notice Rob shoot his own load all over the concrete floor. Cum sprayed into Rob’s ass. Jaekwan, even though he had just fucked a couple hours ago, shot a massive wad of cum. It just kept flowing, filling Rob’s ass up, until hot, creamy cum had seeped into every corner of his flesh. “Goddamn…” Jaekwan said. He took a deep breath. Aftershocks of his orgasm ran through him. “Yo, man… You got a car?” Rob heard his question but was too overwhelmed by his own climax to answer. He just shuddered and moaned. Gradually Jaekwan pulled out of his ass, asking the same question again and again. “You got a car, man? Huh? I can fix it. I can do anything, man, swear to God. I’m good with cars,” he said. He pulled out and Rob sighed. Jaekwan stayed on top of him, his dick leaking a few more drops of cum onto Rob’s asscheeks. He whispered into Rob’s ear. “Huh? How’s your car?” “It’s fine. I don’t need any work,” Rob said. Then he smiled. “I’ll give you an extra hundred bucks if you kiss me. With tongue.” Jaekwan made a face like he would never do that. But then, without another word, he turned his head to the side and kissed Rob right on the lips. His tongue plunged in. It was rather awkward and unpracticed; Jaekwan felt a few stray mustache hairs on Rob’s mostly smooth face, and that made it difficult for Jaekwan to forget he was with a man. Finally he was done. Jaekwan sniffled like it was no big deal. He got up and wiped his dick off. “You best pay me, man.” Rob nodded. He got out his smart phone and arranged a direct transfer into Jaekwan’s bank account. “Hey, you like Mexicans? I can hook you up with this cholo I know. He’ll rob you, so don’t bring no cash. But he’ll cornhole you first,” Jaekwan said as Rob got dressed. “I’ll tell him not to beat you up. I know buncha Mexicans. Most of ’em got tiny dicks though.” Rob ignored him. He just went to his car. There were only two cars in the parking lot, so it was obvious which one was Jaekwan’s. Jaekwan frowned at him. “Come on, man. He’s great, you’ll like him,” Jaekwan said. “Hey. You think about it. Call me, man.” “See you later, Jaekwan.” Rob got in his car. “Yeah! You can lick my asshole!” Jaekwan called out as Rob pulled away. “Uh… Six hundred dollars.” He saw Rob laughing through the driver’s side window, so Jaekwan thought he had guessed wrong. “Twenty bucks!” The last thing he did was pull his sagging jeans down and display his bare brown ass for Rob in the rear-view mirror. Rob watched his ass get smaller as he drove away. He giggled. He didn’t normally mess around with guys more than once, but Jaekwan was very handsome. He thought he couldn’t resist. He might wait to run this company into the ground until he had gotten everything he could out of it.
“Pass it up, nigga!” “You dribble like a retard, man, send it over here. You know you won’t know what to do wit’ it.” Avery sat on the ground near the basketball hoop. He had a basketball with him. He didn’t like his basketball because it was clean. He had just bought it at All-Mart a few minutes ago. It hadn’t occurred him to use it a little first. It was very obviously brand-new, and it made him stand out as an outsider here. “Take that shot, Rakhim! Take the shot! Take-“ “Ah, nigga!” Rakhim was one of the guys playing basketball. He was younger than the others — he had just turned eighteen a few days ago; the rest of the men playing were at least in their late twenties, some well into their forties.
Avery tried not to feel too self-conscious. He was in a public court in one of the worst ghettos of inner-city Baltimore. He stood out because he was the only white person here — what was even weirder was that he was, by far, the lightest-skinned person here: there wasn’t even a single light-skinned black person anywhere at the court. He also stood out because he was watching but not from the sidelines. He was there at the front of the court, behind the basket, so he was almost knocked over a few times as they played.
“Yo, whiteman, bounce it up.” A ball landed near Avery. His heart skipped a beat as he picked it up and bounced it back to Rakhim. He was young and broad-shouldered, with tight, taut muscles that were dappled in sweat. He was on the “skins” team, so he was shirtless — Avery had watched him deliberately get himself on the skins team, presumably because he wanted to show off in front of the girls who chatted on the sidelines. None of the girls appeared to be paying much attention, but Rakhim smiled at them and made sure they got lots of views of his six-pack abs. As confident as Rakhim was in front of the girls, he showed less confidence in front of the older men he played with. Rakhim was smaller than any of them, and he was easily the most handsome, so they all treated him like a prettyboy. He wasn’t scarred or heavily tattooed, and he had a smooth, unblemished face. “Watch this dunk, nigga!” Rakhim shouted. He was much too short to be dunking, wasn’t he? Avery wasn’t a basketball expert, but he didn’t think someone like Rakhim had any chance of making it. Sure enough, Rakhim slammed the ball onto the rim but didn’t make it in the basket. He landed on the ground and groaned as the other players all burst into applause. The girls stopped chatting and watched, giggling while Rakhim stood, stony-faced, grimaces flashing over his eyes. He tried to smile good-naturedly. “You must be this tall to dunk-!” “That is why you got fired from Dunkin’ Donuts, nigga!” “Yo, Rakhim, you gonna dunk ’bout two minutes after that whiteman over there.” They all laughed. Avery blushed, but he didn’t respond. He grabbed the basketball he had brought with him, lifted it over his head and licked the underside of it. He made sure it looked like he was licking a testicle. All of the basketball players were quiet for a moment. The girls watching from the sidelines laughed — but they were confused, not recognizing the ball-slurping for what it was. Then the basketball players chuckled dryly and resumed the game. There was some faint whispering and casual glances in Avery’s direction, but no one spoke to him. That was fine with Avery. He knew how to do this. It was one of the middle-aged guys that came to talk to Avery. He was probably the oldest one here, with a burly body covered with gray-tinged chest hair. He had a gravelly voice like he gargled with nails, so low and spine-tingling that Avery struggled to understand his words. “Yo, wuzzup? Whatchoo want, whiteman?” Avery giggled as girlishly as he could manage. “I just wanted to jerk some dick. Do you know anyone with a dick?” He glowered. He spat on the ground. “You payin’?” “I’ll pay you and him five hundred dollars if I get to jerk off Rakhim over there,” he said. The man chuckled. “So you go’n pay me? For his dick? He my nephew, you know.” “I’ll pay him too.” Avery smiled. “Or if you’d rather, I’ll pay a thousand dollars to the whole lot of you. All ten of you. Hundred bucks each.”
He thought for a moment. “Nah. You pay me. The whole amount, thousand dollars. Don’t tell Rakhim you payin’.” He paused, thought for a moment and rolled his eyes. “Nevermind, no. His daddy’s my brothah. You pay him the whole thousand dollars.” He sighed again like he really didn’t want to do that. “His daddy’s doin’ time. I gotta do what’s right… Fine, you pay him a thousand dollars. But don’t tell him till it’s done. I go’n mess wit’ him.”
The game seemed to have paused. The middle-aged man — Reg– jogged back off to the other older players. They spoke in hushed tones. It sounded like they had sent Reg to see what Avery wanted. They all laughed, then hushed each other. Rakhim shot baskets lazily. He glanced back at the others, and he made eye contact with Avery then looked away. “Alright, you shitheads got the ball,” Reg said, and the huddle at the far end of the court broke up. The game resumed. Avery watched, slowly licking the basketball in front of his face. He heard some of the girls mutter catty insults about him, but Avery didn’t mind. He serviced a lot of alpha men, which tended to piss off females. He knew that. It was normal. He could handle the bitches. “You ain’t nevuh got a dunk in, Short Stuff,” Reg said to Rakhim. Short Stuff must have been an old nickname for him, because Rakhim sucked on his teeth and scowled like he hated it. “Rakhim’s the only one here who ain’t nevuh one time dunk.” “He can’t do it, nigga, no one that short can dunk. He shorter than Spud Webb.” “I ain’t!” Rakhim yelled. “Nah! I’m five nine, nigga! I’m taller than Spud Webb! All y’all fuckers shut yo’ mouths! Spudd Webb was five seven. I can dunk any time I want, nigga.” They laughed. Even some of the girls watching laughed, and Avery chuckled. Rakhim seemed to realize he had come across as very defensive. He grabbed the ball from one of the other players. “I got two inches on Spud Webb!” Rakhim shouted, even though he knew it made him look even more defensive — he just couldn’t help himself. Rakhim grabbed his cock, its massive shaft momentarily outlined by his sweaty basketball shorts. Rakhim laughed cockily. “I got more than two inches on ‘im, man, I swear to God!” He pumped his biceps. “How you know how big Spud Webb’s dick is?” “Yo, are you sayin’ you swallowed Spud Webb’s dick?” Rakhim shouted, “Y’all can slurp the sweat off my balls! Fuck you! I can dunk! I’ll take you all on, motherfuckers!” He paced in a little circle as though he was going to challenge someone to a fight but couldn’t decide who. His fuming just made the others laugh more. The men laughed and clutched each other’s half-naked bodies as they watched. Five of them wore sleeveless shirts, and four (plus Rakhim) were shirtless, but they all pawed at each other’s sweaty muscles while Rakhim shouted. They laughed as though it was the funniest thing they had ever seen. “Nah, nah,” Reg’s deep voice cut through Rakhim’s yelling, and he had such gravity and authority in his tone that everyone fell silent immediately. Even Avery stopped laughing. Reg’s chest rumbled. “Nah. Nah, nigga. None of us gonna slurp the sweat off ya balls.” “Damn right.” “You still the little’un, Rakhim. And you only just turned eighteen.” “I’m an adult, nigga, fuck you. I can dunk. You ain’t gotta show me disrespec’,” Rakhim said. He sucked on his lip. Reg chuckled and placed one hand on his shoulder. “Look, young pup, you wanna show us what you got? Go for it. Let’s make a bet. You get three dunks, nigga. If you make one of ’em, you win and Slim Jay here gonna set you up wit’ one of his fine-ass hos.” Slim Jay was one of the other players, on the Shirts team. He wasn’t dressed like a pimp now, but he was clean and had brand-new sneakers and about fifteen trashy-looking women cheering him on. Slim Jay was the only one with his own cheering section. Slim Jay pointed towards the girls cheering him. “You can pick which one you want, man.” “Sharlene. I want Sharlene.” There was a moment of silence, and the men all laughed. Rakhim’s face was tight and pinched, and he bit his lip. “You in love wit’ a whore, nigga?” “You gonna eat that bitch’s cummy, flappy pussy?” “No! She just hot! She got ass all over, nigga, and I heard she suck dick good. That’s all! I don’t love her, no way,” Rakhim said. He sighed because none of the men could hear him over their own taunting. He crossed his arms over his bare chest. “Anyway, whatever, fuck you, Slim Jay. I could get her anytime I want. I could get a freebie. Girls love my meat, nigga. She be beggin’ for it if-“ “Nah.” Slim Jay said. He got up real close, and laughter stopped. His face was less than an inch from Rakhim’s. Since he was taller than Rakhim, he had to stoop over so his eyes lined up. “Nah, Rakhim. You ain’t gonna do that. She my girl. I love her. She know that. Ain’t nothin’ you do gonna change that. She don’t do freebies. She love me too much to betray me like that.” After a long pause, Slim Jay kissed Rakhim on the lips. It was a momentary, dry, chaste kiss that ended as soon as Rakhim pushed him away. Despite it lasting only a half a second, the kiss made Rakhim howl and wipe his lips off as though he had just kissed battery acid. The other men laughed and clutched each other for support once more. “Ya got a new boyfriend, Rakhim? You gonna turn tricks for Slim Jay?!” Slim Jay smiled as they all hooted at Rakhim, who switched his hostile glares from Slim Jay, to the others, to the girls who shouted for more from the sidelines. But Slim Jay was already jogging away, to Avery. He wangled his dick in his jeans and smiled at Avery. “Yo, man. Gimme ten bucks for kissin’ Rakhim. I know you got off on that.” “Uh…” Avery wasn’t expecting that. He pulled out a twenty dollar bill from his pocket, as he had no ten. “I, uh-“ Slim Jay took the twenty. “Good. The other ten bucks is you payin’ me to watch my ass as I walk away.” He laughed and shook his plump cheeks as he went back to the cluster of older men. Rakhim dribbled by himself in front of the basket, eyeing Avery suspiciously. It looked like Rakhim wanted to practice dunking but couldn’t do so right now without looking weak. “You wanna do this, nigga?” Reg said to Rakhim. “If you can make just one dunk, you get to fuck wit’ Sharlene. If you can’t make a dunk, you gotta stop talkin’ trash ’bout yo’ skills… and you gotta get whiteman over there to slurp the sweat off yo’ balls. And you gotta ram him.” Reg crossed his arms over his chest. The other men did the same, presenting a united front. Rakhim scoffed. “What? Fine, whatever.” Then, like the details hadn’t really sunk in just yet, he said, “Wait, what? What’d you say? I gotta…” “You scared?” “Yo’ daddy’s is a punk behind bars, you know that, right?” “Shut up! My pops ain’t a punk! Fuck you, man.” Reggie scowled and stamped his feet. Reg rolled his eyes. “So whatchoo think? Can you do it? Can you dunk wit’ yo’ tiny ass?”
“Nigguh! Ah…” Rakhim paced again. He was furious that his father’s affairs were being aired in public. He screamed at Reg, “I know you lyin’! My pops ain’t no prison punk!” That made Reg laugh some more, and Rakhim took a deep breath through slitted teeth. “You don’t know jack-shit, old nigga. You don’t know nothin’. My pops don’t act like that. He ain’t fuckin’ around on that ramrod trip on bottom. Nope. No way.”
Reg covered his face as he tried to look serious. “Sure, nigga. Right. I know he introduced you. Julius, right? His name was Julius? You should respect him, he’s yo’ stepmama.” “No he ain’t!” “Alright, Rakhim, you wanna do it? Huh? You takin’ the bet? Quit makin’ a fuckin’ scene and do it. Or don’t, if you don’t think you can dunk…” Rakhim flared his nostrils and nodded. “Hell yeah, ‘course I can do it. I can dunk, nigga. I can get all three, I bet. I can dunk, no problem. Three dunks in a row.” “Let’s see it then…” Reg said with a wry grin. He and the other men lined up like they were watching a free throw. They clapped and hooted. The girls watching from the sidelines did the same thing. Rakhim went back a few yards so he could run up to the basket. He dribbled a couple times. He shook his short braids out of his eyes and ran his fingers over his scalp. His tight pectoral muscles flexed and rippled. Then he ran for it. He dribbled down the court, between the rows of clapping men and leapt. Since Avery was there by the basket, he got a good look at Rakhim’s cock pressed against the fabric of his shorts. And he missed. Rakhim whiffed completely. He barely touched the basket at all and didn’t even get the ball near the rim. Laughter exploded from the other men. Rakhim roared and screamed profanities. His eyes bugged out. Some of the girls called out supportive words, which only seemed to make Rakhim angrier. He raced back to try again before anyone could even tell him to hurry up. He ran faster, not even really dribbling anymore — he dribbled a bit, but if this was a real game, he’d have been called out for traveling. He got closer, but this time he merely touched the rim with the ball. There was a metallic clang, but no basket. Again, the audience all erupted in clapping. Avery joined in, shouting encouragement even though he wanted Rakhim to lose more than anything. He paused for a long time before his third try. He hushed the crowd, which made the other players laugh harder before Reg told them all to be quiet. “Nah, let him concentrate, man. We gotta give him a chance. Let him try,” Reg said until they all fell silent. Slim Jay even made his hos shut up. Rakhim took a deep breath and ran forward for his last try. It was, once again, a miss. He got it on the rim and it almost went in but bounced right off. No dunk. Rakhim lowered his head and closed his eyes. He frowned and tightened his hands into fists as the other players alternated between teasing and sarcastic words of support. “You suck, nigga!” “Short Stuff! Short Stuff!” “You tryin’, nigga, you get a medal for tryin’. You got spunk, man. You got gumption.” “Gumption! Short Stuff full of gumption! And spunk!” “Spud Webb’s spunk…” “Fuck you! Fuck you!” Rakhim screamed. He threw the basketball away as hard as he could. It sailed over the fence and bounced into the road outside the court. A few of the girls booed. “Ah, don’t be a shit, Rakhim,” Reg said. “Jesus Christ, you’re such a little bitch sometimes.” “Say that to my face, Uncle Reg!” “I just did say it to yo’ face, motherfucker! Open yo’ ears!” Reg laughed and mimed plucking something from Rakhim’s ear. Rakhim bristled and rubbed his ear as though he thought there was something in there. Reg clasped Rakhim on the shoulder and squeezed. “Chill the fuck out, nigga.” “We just givin’ ya shit, man. You ain’t gotta throw the ball away. That’s a punk move.” “If we was in lockup, nigga, I’d stab yo’ ass for that. I’d stab ya in the ass, and then, once I blew my nut inside ya, I’d stab you wit’ a shiv.” They all laughed at Rakhim’s heavy breathing. Rakhim’s eyes were narrowed to slits. He looked so furious he might explode. “Yo, you gonna do what you promised?” Reg asked. “Huh? You gonna back out like a loser?” “Nah. Nah. No.” Rakhim bristled. His anger broke, and he glanced back at Avery. He took a deep breath, rolled his eyes and forced a smile on his face. “Whatever. Fine. Let him suck the sweat off my balls. Fuckin’ bitch. I ain’t, you know… I ain’t some squeamish nigga, you know. I don’t fuck around on the downlow, but I could. I could. I could. I just got females, y’know. I ain’t a bitch who can’t get no pussy. I ram a male, sure, I ram a male, you know… I would ram a male, if I needed to. Sure. No problem, nigga. If we was in prison, I’d-a done took whiteman back there to be my bitch. He’d already be doin’ my laundry, you know, hand-washin’ my drawers. I be eatin’ that bitch’s fruit cup from day one.” “Is ‘fruit cup’ how young’uns say ‘asshole’ now?” “I do it, no problem.” Rakhim seemed to be trying to convince himself as much as anyone else. “Sure. Where? I ain’t invitin’ no man into my mama’s house.” “Right here, nigga. We do it how yo’ daddy make love to his boyfriend, wit’ all his boys blocking the view from the screws,” Reg said. “Get in a circle, niggas.” Before Avery even realized it was going to happen right here — there was a public bathroom in the courts, so that’s where Avery assumed they were going — the nine players had come to him and formed a circle. Avery leaned against the pole supporting the basketball hoop. He had his own basketball in hand, but he dropped it to the ground and held it in place with one foot. With nine very large men in a tight circle, flesh-on-flesh, there was no way to see in from outside. Even if you got up real close and tried to look through their legs, all you’d see was low-hanging basketball shorts. You’d have to get all the way down on your belly to see anything, and even then you’d only be able to tell that Avery was on his knees. Rakhim stood there in the center of the circle. His eyes closed, hands on his waist, his pert chest muscles rose and fell as he breathed heavily. He gulped. He tried to put on a tough-nigga face. “Alright, man, get to it. I got some sweaty-ass balls right now-“ Someone pulled down Rakhim’s shorts and his drawers, laughing when it made Rakhim bristle. He had a nice thick cock dangling between his legs, and heavy balls with sweat dripping off his kinky black hairs. Avery wanted to get started right away before Rakhim decided to drop out. He dove his head between his legs and let both balls plop into his mouth. He gurgled moistly, making as much noise as he could because it made Rakhim bite his lip with embarrassment while the others clapped and cheered. Rakhim shuddered. He had never had his balls licked before, not really — he’d had girls lick his sac a bit, but they were never willing to suck on his balls. He was ticklish, which he thought would make him look weak so he tried to avoid reacting. But the more he resisted, the more Avery teased his taint with his tongue, making Rakhim giggle like a schoolboy. “Quit playin’, quit playin’…” Rakhim muttered. Avery suckled all the sweaty balljuice off his body. He even got way down deep between Rakhim’s legs and slurped like he was trying to suck his taint right off. Rakhim was ungodly funky right now, with fresh sweat dripping in rivers down Avery’s throat — Rakhim was sweaty because he was playing basketball on a humid summer afternoon, and because he was nervous about showing off his cock in front of a bunch of older men. But he had nothing to be ashamed of. Not only was his cock plenty big, but it got hard right away — almost too quickly, Rakhim thought, hoping no one noticed that he got an erection easily, as though he was with a girl. “Throat him down, Rakhim!” His plump cocktip pushed into Avery’s throat. Avery deep-throated him right away, prompting the other men to clap again. Rakhim shuddered and closed his eyes. He leaned back against the pole holding up the basketball hoop. “Course, I’ll throat him down, man,” Rakhim said. His voice sounded a lot less confident than his words suggested, which made the other men chuckle. Rakhim snorted. He took a deep breath and grabbed Avery by the head. And then he let go and laughed. His laughter was tremulous and anxious. Rakhim had trouble focusing. He tried again, touching Avery’s scalp, but when he felt Avery’s straight, short, man’s haircut, he laughed nervously again. He pulled his fingers back. “You scared, Rakhim?” One of the older men poked Rakhim in his bare ass with one finger, making Rakhim buck and smack his hand away. “Nah, man, this, uh… This man’s just nasty, that’s all,” Rakhim said. “Whatever. I can ram his throat. I ram hard, you know it. I can make him gag.” He closed his eyes and tried again. He grabbed Avery by the scalp, so tightly it hurt. But Avery didn’t mind, he just swallowed Rakhim down to the root, and he didn’t gag even when his throat cried out for it — Avery had been doing this long enough he could usually suppress his gag reflex. “He ain’t gaggin’, Rakhim. Maybe yo’ dick ain’t big enough.” “You got another, bigger dick somewhere? Whip it out, nigga.” “He… He prolly slurp too many dicks to gag. Ain’t that right, man?” Rakhim asked. He pulled out and lightly slapped Avery on the cheek. “Huh? Is that why you don’t gag?” “Yes,” Avery said, the first thing he had said to Rakhim all day.
“I bet my dick tastes like pussyjuice, don’t it? I was fuckin’ a female earlier. I was dick-deep in her, man.” He beamed proudly, and glanced behind himself to see if the others were impressed. They were not.
“I don’t taste pussyjuice, sorry,” Avery said. “Your dick tastes really good though-“ “You don’t know what real pussy tastes like, whiteman,” Rakhim said. He rubbed his hard cock over Avery’s face, smearing precum over him. “That’s all. I was fuckin’ a female, I swear. Right before I came here. I busted all up in her.” “You ain’t fuck her in the ass?” “Nah. Nah. Not her,” Rakhim said. “Not this morning. I do fuck bitches in the ass, man. No problem.” Avery smiled. “Are you ready to ram me in the ass?” “Hell yeah he is, boy! He gonna get up in there!” “Destroy him, Rakhim!” “Do yo’ daddy proud and wreck his ass!” Avery turned around and bent over. He stuck his ass up high, too high for Rakhim to ram him in it. Rakhim had a beaming, prideful smile on his face until he saw Avery’s tight asshole twinkling in front of his face. Rakhim looked away. “You scared?” “Ain’t you evuh been locked up, Rakhim? This yo’ first time?” Rakhim scoffed. “Course it’s my first time, nigga. I ain’t a booty bandit or nothin’. I ain’t gone inside. Nope. I said that before, nigga. I don’t mess around on the downlow,” he said. “So this ain’t downlow? We can tell everyone?” “No!” “I’m tellin’ yo’ daddy,” Reg said with a grin. “I’m gonna call him right now. You gonna get in there?” Reg fished out his cell phone from his shorts pocket. He dialed a number. “No one prolly gonna answer, on ‘ccount of it’s a smuggled cell phone. They keep it turned off. They gonna call me back if yo’ daddy’s available.” “You ain’t gotta tell my pops, Uncle Reg! Come on! Don’t tell him!” “Why not?” Rakhim’s mouth was agape, and he mumbled like he wanted to come up with a reason but couldn’t think of any. He just thought and stood there with his erect cock resting on the surface of Avery’s ass. Avery got bored with waiting. He reached behind himself and grabbed Rakhim’s dick. His fingers shocked Rakhim out of his reverie, and Rakhim slapped his hands away. “Nah! Don’t tell him, Uncle Reg! Quit playin’! Come on, nigga…” He paused. He grabbed Avery’s hand. “Get yo’ hand back here again, whiteman. You guide my dick in.” He put Avery’s hand right back where it had been before he smacked it away. “Get in there, Rakhim!” Rakhim took a deep breath and pushed his cock in. He gasped and gagged when it finally went in. He closed his eyes, and then he covered them with one ropy-muscled tattooed forearm. His breathing was short and shallow as though he was on the verge of tears. “You evuh ram a male in the ass?! Huh? Fo’ real?” “No, man! I said that! I ain’t nevuh do it. I get pussy. I get females,” Rakhim said with a roar. He pounded on his chest muscles. “I get females beggin’ for my meat, you don’t even know!” The more he bragged, the more the others cackled and jeered at him. They kept squeezing his muscles, pretending to be girls overwhelmed with desire. “Ooh, Rakhim, you turn me on so much, will you lick my butthole?!” “Nothing turns me on more than watching niggas fail to dunk, Rakhim, that’s my kink. Come here and titty-fuck me!” “If I threw a ball at you, Rakhim, could you not catch it? That makes my pussy so wet. I’m a fumble-holic, nigga.” “Ooh, nigga, could you miss an easy lay-up while you fuck me, Rakhim? That’d be so hot.” Someone gave Rakhim the ball that Avery had brought to the court. Rakhim scowled and ignored them, but a chant soon erupted. He held the ball. “Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it!” Finally Rakhim screamed in rage — he barely even paid attention to his cock sliding in and out of Avery’s ass right now — and threw the ball. He was behind the basket, so he had to throw it high to get it over the backboard. The ball whiffed completely. It didn’t even touch the net. It bounced away on the ground, and the men erupted in cheers. “That was so hot!” “If you plow hard enough, Rakhim, you might grow some balls. Then you’d be a real boy, just like yo’ fairy godmother promised.” “Fuck you!” Rakhim screamed and threw a punch, but with his dick in Avery’s ass, it was a useless gesture. He just flailed his fist in the direction of one of the men. They all laughed and clapped. Rakhim shouted justifications — mainly claiming that Avery’s movement had distracted him — but no one could hear him over the sound of the others razzing him. Rakhim seemed to realize that the only way out of this was to just finish up. The more he responded, the more the others teased him. He bit his lip, gritted his teeth and grabbed Avery by the cheeks to ram him harder. Then he realized he was touching a white man’s ass, and he let go with a pained grimace. A cell phone rang. Everyone laughed, except Rakhim, who moaned, until Reg hushed them all and answered the phone. Reg serioused up. “Yo, nigga. Yo, I know you gotta pay for this, don’t worry, I put some money in yo’ commissary — nah, it ain’t ’bout none of that, relax. It’s a joke,” Avery said. “Yo’ son is here gettin’ his cherry popped on the court.” “I ain’t a virgin, pops! Shut up, Uncle Reg! Nah, that ain’t what’s happenin’! Nah! Nah!” Rakhim grabbed for the phone, but without pulling away from Avery’s ass. His cock throbbed and sent shivers of pleasure through Avery’s body. Rakhim flailed uselessly towards the phone in his uncle’s hands. Some of the other men slapped his hands down. “Shut up, Rakhim.” “Yeah, there’s some white man hanging out here. We set up a little wager, and yo’ boy ain’t dunk one time — yeah, I know, he still think he can dunk-“ “I can dunk, nigga! My pops seen me dunk! He saw it!” Reg was quiet for a moment. “He say you ain’t nevuh dunk on no regulation basket.” “It was reg’lation, man! It was just as high as this one!” Rakhim pointed to the basket he had missed. “I can do it. I swear to God, I can do it.” “You ain’t gotta swear to God to prove it, nigga. All you gotta do is do it.” “Yeah, so he rammin’ that man. He deep in his ass right now. I think he might be in love.” “Nuh-uh! Fuck you, Uncle Reg! Say that to my face! Come on!” Rakhim shouted. He seemed to have forgotten his dick was in Avery’s ass. Avery squirmed and held back squeals, as the thick shaft in his guts sent paroxyms of pleasure through his body. “He ain’t nevuh get no female, so this is sorta practice, you know. He learnin’ how to use his dick for the first time.” Reg paused and laughed at whatever Rakhim’s father said. Reg cleared his throat. “Hey, so you know that boy? What’s his name, Julius? Yeah. He yo’ cell wife or what?” He paused, then said, “Ha! Tol’ you, nigga.” He put his phone on speaker. The sound of a crowded prison filled the air, macho grunting and a whistle in the distant background. “Go’n, say that again.” A deep, gravelly voice intoned, “Julius’s my boy. He’s my cell wife. I ram him all the damn time, nigga, you know that.” “Nah! Tell ’em the truth, Pops!” Rakhim shouted. “Fuck you all!” They all laughed hard for a long time. Avery found it difficult to follow all this, because he jacked himself off while Rakhim rammed his ass. Rakhim’s cock was rock-hard even as he got embarrassed, and it tickled Avery’s prostate with every thrust of his hips. Soon Avery shot his own load onto the ground. No one noticed because they were focused on Rakhim, who took the phone from Reg and spoke into it — it was off speakerphone now. Rakhim’s voice went from macho and braggy to calm and respectful. “Hey, Pops. Uh-huh. Yeah. I’m doin’ it! Uncle Reg’s being a prick, nigga. I’m- Uh-huh. I know. Yeah. Yeah. Yes, sir,” Rakhim said. His voice was weak now, like he didn’t enjoy showing respect in front of others. He looked down at his cock, still pulsating in Avery’s ass. He stopped moving it, but Avery kept sliding back and forth, up and down on the shaft. “Yeah, I’m rammin’ him. Just… Pops… Come on, man… Yes, sir. I’m… Yeah, I can do it. I won’t. I won’t. I won’t! Shut up, man, I said I won’t! Why you gotta have a cell wife?! Tell him he gotta wear makeup! I got niggas in there, man, they tellin’ e’rybody — Mom don’t know! Mom don’t know ’bout that shit! She don’t know nothin’- Nah, pops! Nah! Nah, nigga!” He paused and sighed. He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sir, I don’t say the n-word that much, Uncle Reg got me worked up,” he whispered. Then he sighed again and gritted his teeth. An involuntary surge of sensations ran through his body, making his muscles all flex as his hips gyrated, forcing his cock in and outta Avery’s ass. “Yes, sir. Sorry. Yeah. Okay. Yeah. Yes, I’m going to church!” “No he ain’t!” “I ain’t seed him at church!” Reg shouted at the phone. “I am going to church! I missed one week! Just one!” He paused. “I swear to God, Pops, just make him yo’ bitch. I don’t wanna hear that shit. Nah. Nah! He ain’t — Pops! Man, don’t say that! Don’t say that! If he can be yo’ cell wife, he can be yo’ bitch! Make him a bitch! Pimp him out! Fuck you then! No! No! Don’t-! Don’t tell her! Man… I’m sorry, Pops, just chill out. Don’t tell Mom. I ain’t mean it. I just… I got respec’ for you, Pops. I was just mad. Don’t call him yo’ cell wife.” He sighed again. “Yeah, fine. Okay. Yes, sir. I’ll… Yes, I’ll meet Julius next month in visitation. Fine. I’ll be nice. Yes, sir. Don’t tell Mom.” He hung up the phone and handed it back to Reg. “He said he treats Julius like a bitch. He just calls him a wife cuzza prison rules or some shit. Don’t mean nothing.” “Yeah, right.” “Okay, Rakhim,” Reg said with a snorting laugh. “You gonna cum or you gonna fall in love over there?” “He gonna fall in love like his daddy did.” “He ain’t in love! It ain’t real love anyway, it’s prison love. All y’all shut up! He ain’t takin’ dick! He’s on top anyway, I know that!” Rakhim said, his eyes closed. They all tittered with laughter, which made Rakhim frown though he didn’t say anything else. He just gripped Avery by the ass and started ramming again. Then he twitched like he hadn’t meant to touch Avery’s ass with his hands. He grimaced and let go. He kept ramming back and forth though. Avery had already shot his wad onto the floor, so every stroke of Rakhim’s cock inside him just extended his post-orgasmic bliss. His ass was in terrible pain now, since Rakhim had a huge cock and rammed with it clumsily, like he had never stuck anyone in the ass before. But the pleasure of the man’s cock throbbing inside him combined with the arousal flowing through Avery’s body to make him writhe uncontrollably. Avery felt like he was falling apart. “I can ram you so hard, whiteman, you gonna be beggin’ me for mercy,” Rakhim said, his voice trailing off like he realized he was making a boast he might not be able to back up. He wrapped one of his arms around Avery’s throat. “Gonna treat you like a prison bitch. This is prolly how that bitch Julius gets it.” He put Avery in a loose chokehold and slammed his cock in, moving his hips around as though he needed to do it from every angle. He groaned and grunted into Avery’s ear. Avery moaned and bucked, resisting at first then allowing Rakhim to ram him harder and harder. “Fuck you, man, fuck you!” Rakhim hissed directly into Avery’s ear. That made Avery shudder with both fear and desire, and his ass clenched around Rakhim’s cock. At last that was it. Rakhim groaned, and it was obvious he was relieved to finally finish. The other men clapped. His voice broke in Avery’s ear, his breath condensing on his skin. “Oh damn, I guess those balls do work.” Hot cum flew into Avery’s ass. Rakhim was young so his balls were full, bursting with juices. It all flowed into Avery like his cock was a hose, and his cum sprayed throughout Avery’s body. He could feel it trickling into every corner of his flesh. Some of it seeped down his thighs too, trickling onto the ground and the puddle of Avery’s own cum. Rakhim roared and pounded on his chest, breathing heavily. His roar was interrupted by his own gasp, and then he snarled as Reg pinched his asscheek again. “There you go, you got it. You worked hard for yo’ money, nigga,” Reg said. Rakhim nodded. “Uh-huh. Tol’ you. Told you I could do it.” “You said you could make him beg you-“ “He begged. I heard it,” Rakhim said. He pulled out and grimaced, gagging at the sight of Avery’s cum-filled asshole. Avery giggled and squeezed his ass, making a big clump of cum slide down his leg. The men all laughed and clapped. Rakhim took a deep breath. “I did it, nigga.” He paused. “Wait, what? Whatchoo sayin’ ’bout money?” No one answered him. They all exchanged knowing glances. Rakhim furrowed his brow, looking right at Reg. He didn’t notice Avery pull out his checkbook and start writing. “Huh? Uncle Reg, what was you sayin’?” Avery handed Rakhim a check for eleven hundred dollars — the extra was to cover the cost of cashing the check at a payday-loan place. Rakhim took the check, but it didn’t register, he just scowled at Reg. “Uncle Reg, what did-?” He saw the check. “What’s this? Huh?” Avery just walked away, cum still dribbling down his thighs. He squeezed between two sweaty bodies, since the men were still interlocked in a tight circle. He kept his tongue out as he went so he got to lick all the salty sweat off one man’s ebony torso on his way out. Whoever it was jumped away like Avery’s tongue was painful. “Yo, did he just pay me?! Why ain’t you tell me I was gettin’ paid?! Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that, nigga! Hell yeah, I got white men payin’ fo’ my meat. Ain’t nothin’ wrong ’bout that. You tell my pops, right? He won’t believe me. Uncle Reg, you gonna tell him?” “Nah. I will tell yo’ moms though.”
Avery had six months of parole, and he was looking forward to it. He had been assigned to Gerald Richards, a buff black P.O. and ex-drill sergeant. Avery had had to pull a few strings to make sure he was assigned to Mr. Richards’ caseload. He had asked for that because, according to street rumors, Mr. Richards was known to force his parolees to jerk him off. He had a great mustache. Avery was a sucker for a black guy with a mustache. He wanted to suck the hairs right off his upper lip. And he had big broad shoulders that shook as he filled out a form with Avery’s personal information on it. “So you work as a writer? A freelance writer?” “Yep.” “That don’t sound like a real job. I want you to get a real job,” Mr. Richards said. “Yes, sir,” Avery said. He wasn’t going to do that, but he wanted to agreeable. “Do you have any skills?” “Just-“ “Don’t say writin’, man.” “Then no. Sir.” “Alright, I can hook you up with a job at Taco Dell. I know the manager there. I like the way you called me sir without me…” He looked Avery up and down and sucked on his lower lip; the mustache on his upper lip quivered. “Without me makin’ a big deal out of it.”
Damn it. That was it, Avery thought. If Avery hadn’t called him sir, Mr. Richards would have made him throat dick, he was sure of it. That was what the look on his face said. Damn it!
“Oh, uh…” Avery blushed. He quaked. Had he gone through all this for nothing? He was entranced by Mr. Richards’ big muscles, his biceps bulging from the rolled-up sleeve of his stained and faded button-down shirt. Mr. Richards wordlessly filled out his paperwork. “You do drugs?” “No, sir.” “You’re gonna do a piss test next time,” he said. He glanced up and made eye contact with Avery. “What? You look mad. What?” “It’s just…” Avery took a deep breath. He decided to be blunt with him. “I heard a rumor about you, Mr. Richards.” “What? I don’t like rumormongering. I don’t condone it. A man should stand behind the shit he says,” Mr. Richards said. “I heard… you sometimes make guys jerk your dick.” Mr. Richards glowered at him. His dark eyes were expressionless. “What? You insinuatin’ I force my parolees into somethin’?” He watched Avery pop one of his fingers into his mouth and sucked on it. “Motherfucker, you think I’m a pervert?! That is fucked up. That ain’t no kinda thing I would ever do,” Mr. Richards said. “And I resent you for bringin’ up that kinda scurrilous accusation.” “Oh, I’m sorry-“ “Shut ya lie-hole, pansy. Ain’t not a soul make no kinda accusation of that sort. Sometimes motherfuckahs be beggin’ for a way to prove how much respect they got for me. Y’know… sometimes, motherfuckahs be thinkin’ callin’ me sir is the worst thing I could force ’em to do… only the trick is, I can’t force ’em to do that. I can’t pull no words outta someone’s mouth. So I gotta focus on gettin’ respect out of ’em through some other means. Ya feel me?” He stood up and came closer to Avery. He grabbed him by the chin and played with his lower lip. “You wanna jerk my dick?” “Yes!” Avery immediately moved to grab for his crotch, but Mr. Richards slapped his hand away. “I ain’t say you could. I was just doin’ a survey like, for gauging general interest among the populace,” Mr. Richards said. He pointed to a spot on the floor. “Get on yo’ knees.” Avery did as he was told. His heart thumped. He was going to get to do this after all. “You know our meetin’ is done, right? I ain’t keepin’ you here no more? I’d rather you leave, to be honest,” Mr. Richards said. He unzipped his slacks and pulled out a massive cock. When Avery went for it, Mr. Richards slapped him. “I ain’t consent to you throatin’ it. I’m still makin’ sure you know I don’t like you, and I don’t want you throatin’ my dick. This ain’t how I get off. I ain’t like that. Strikes me as unbiblical,” he said. “That ain’t the parole department’s opinion, mind you, that’s a personal thought and I gots a right to it.” “Yes, sir.”
“I think this is a tool,” he said. He flopped his limp dick over Avery’s face. Avery opened his mouth to lick, but Mr. Richards slapped him again. “Get that tongue back in yo’ mouth, boy. This here is my tool, not ya lollipop. It’s a tool I use to insert respect back into mouthy motherfuckahs who lost they respect in some tragic accident. Ya feel me? It ain’t yo’ personal plaything.”
“Yes, sir.” “Now, I am gonna ram you in the throat cuz you asked me nice and I like the way yo’ lips is all soft and shit,” he said. He rubbed Avery’s lips with one callused finger. “Don’t you dare be spreadin’ none of them falsities ’bout how I make men jerk me off. I don’t do that. That’s against regulations.” “Yes, sir.” “You seducin’ me right now. You turnin’ this office into a hostile work environment ‘gainst me, boy. I oughta cite you for that,” he said. He chuckled throatily as he spread Avery’s lips with his fingers and rubbed his limp dick over Avery’s gums and teeth. “You may open ya mouth.” Avery did so, as wide as he could, and he swallowed Mr. Richard’s dick down to the root. He looked up at Mr. Richards’ surprised face — he probably didn’t normally get dome from guys who could deep-throat like Avery. Mr. Richards held onto the back of Avery’s head and plowed into him, treating his mouth like it was a pussy. His balls slapped against Avery’s chin. “Alright boy, no spillin’ my nut, that ain’t respectful,” he said. Then he chuckled. “What am I sayin’? I ain’t gotta tell you that. I bet you love swallowin’ nut.” His chuckling broke as he orgasmed. He slammed his dick all the way in. Avery could feel him orgasm in the throbbing of the vein on his dick, which pulsated against Avery’s tongue. But Mr. Richards’ dick was so deep in his throat that Avery didn’t taste the actual cum at first, just the precum that already coated his shaft. “Hmmm… boy, you drainin’ me, that’s good…” His voice was low and rumbly like velvet sandpaper, and he bucked his hips, making sweet love to Avery’s throat. He gripped his hair tightly, rubbing his crotch and balls all over Avery’s face.
Finally, he pulled out, and the taste of salty-sweet cum assaulted Avery’s senses. He moaned and swallowed every drop, even as his belly contorted and his lungs cried out for oxygen. He slathered Mr. Richard’s dick with spit and cum as he let it slowly plop out.
“Goddamn, boy.” Mr. Richards said with a chuckle. Avery gasped for air. “Hmmm… You taste so good… I love your dick, Mr. Richards, I-“ “Hush. I don’t need you to talk,” Mr. Richards said. The mustache on his upper lip quivered. He sighed and leaned back. “Shit…” “Hmmm…” Avery smacked his lips and wiped his face off. “I didn’t spill any, I promise.” He quickly put his own clothes back on. It was always best, he thought, to leave them wanting more, so he intended to leave right away. Mr. Richards nodded. “Hey, boy.” “Yes, sir?” Avery headed for the door. “I take back what I said about my dick not bein’ your personal lollipop. You can come back and jerk me off whenever you want,” he said. He handed his business card over, with his home address written on it. “Okay?” “Yes, sir!”
Avery waited in the McDonnell’s with his computer open, though he didn’t do anything with it. He wasn’t here to use to his computer, that was just a ruse. Instead, he waited. A half-dozen guys came in wearing yellow reflective vests. One was young and skinny, and he had a cold. Avery didn’t like him that much, so he waited. He sipped his coffee, which was cold by then. Finally, another group of workers came in. The van they had parked outside read Jambone Construction. There was a plump redneck with shaggy blond hair, and another, leaner redneck with a vaguely Nazi look to his shaved head. There was a trio of rotund Mexicans. There was a middle-aged black man with wild eyes and a fat belly. The last one was Gambo, a black man with a powerful body and a scruffy beard. He didn’t have a six-pack, but he had a flat belly and thick ass. Gambo looked groggy, like he had just woken up. “Yo, you best call Mr. Lillen,” said the other black guy. Gambo rolled his eyes and nodded. “Man, I need a break.” “You’re on break,” the other black said with a scoff. He got into line to place his order at the McDonnell’s counter. “I mean… like a real break, y’know,” Gambo said, though no one listened to him except Avery who pretended not to see him.
Gambo stalked off into the bathroom, already sneaking sips from his flask. Avery timed himself perfectly to get up a few seconds later and follow him in there. He slipped in the door quickly, pushing past Gambo, who was shocked — this was a small McDonnell’s with individual bathrooms, not stalls. Gambo was too surprised to stop Avery from going in with him.
They were both in a dingy room that stank of piss. There was a filthy toilet and an even filthier urinal there. The sink was clogged with paper towels and the trash can overflowed. “Hey.” “Uh… I was in here first, man,” Gambo said. He looked at Avery dourly as the door slammed shut. “I’ll give you a break.” “What?” Avery reached into his pocket and pulled out a fifty dollar bill. “I’ll give you this if you let me swallow your dick.” After a long pause, Gambo chewed on his lip and said, “I could just take it.” Then he did so, plucking the fifty out of Avery’s fingers. Avery smiled. “You could.” He sunk slowly to his knees, maintaining eye contact with Gambo. “I gotta take a piss.” He grunted. “Damn it, you was talkin’ ’bout gettin’ me off, now I gotta piss but I got a hardon.” He paused. “Fuck… When we done, you best stay in here, I don’t want them out there seein’ you come outta here at the same time as me.” “Okay.” Avery undid Gambo’s fly. He liked dirty men, so he didn’t take Gambo’s pants off all the way — they were filthy. His jeans were caked with mud, which you could tell was from yesterday; he must have taken his jeans off outside, probably sitting around his traphouse room in his drawers all night. His jeans stank of unwashed clothing, and the musk of his massive brown cock made Avery moan with desire. Gambo leaned back. “You ain’t my first, motherfucker. Don’t think that, I been jerked off by males before.” Avery swallowed the tip of his cock and looked up at him. Gambo’s eyes were closed, scrunched shut, and his lips were pursed. Avery couldn’t decide if Gambo was lying or not. He looked nervous like he had never done this before. It didn’t much matter to Avery though, so he didn’t call him on it. He nuzzled his nose deeply into Gambo’s hairy crotch. The smell of ball-sweat and mud and precum flooded Avery’s senses. He slobbered spit up until it soaked Gambo’s jeans. Gambo hadn’t noticed yet, but it made Avery giggle — his coworkers might notice that and make fun of him for it. His cock was rock-hard and throbbing in Avery’s mouth. Avery moaned, slathering spit all up and down the shaft. As he pulled Gambo’s heavy balls out, his fingers reached up under his tattered tee shirt and the yellow reflective vest he wore. Gambo wasn’t muscular, but he was ropy-muscled and leanly powerful. Avery couldn’t quite reach his pecs because Gambo was so tall, but he teased his nipples, which made Gambo’s pecs bounce. There was a loud banging on the door. Avery and Gambo both jumped. A loud booming laugh rang out from outside the bathroom. “Shit-Shock! Shit-Shock! A shit, Gambo, you ain’t do it right!” “Fuck you, Cooter! I ain’t shittin’!” Gambo snarled. He pounded on the door again. “Then whatchoo doin’ in there?!” The plump redneck outside laughed and pounded on the door. “Nothin’!” Gambo bucked like he was going to fight the door itself. His cock throbbed in Avery’s mouth, while Avery’s heart raced. He loved jerking off men. Gambo pulled out his cell phone and pretended to be making a call. “Yeah, baby, it’s just that redneck-bitch bein’ a shit. I’m still comin’ to see you later.” “You talkin’ to ya female in the shitter?” “Shut the fuck up, Cooter! I don’t play that nasty Shit-Shock game!” Gambo said. He snarled and rolled his eyes as Cooter walked away with the other workers. Gambo gasped — pleasure enveloping him now that the distraction had gone. The “Shit-Shock” game was that no one on the crew was supposed to lock the door when they took a shit, either here or in the office or in the Port-a-Potty at the worksite; if someone realized you were in there taking a shit, they were “allowed” to burst in and throw a cup of ice-water on you. It was a stupid and disgusting game that Gambo saw as too low-brow for him (that didn’t stop him from thinking it was funny when it didn’t involve him).
Realizing that he needed to hurry up, Gambo gripped the back of Avery’s head. His whole body undulated and his knees went weak. He held onto the handicapped-bar with one hand while he slammed his dick all the way down Avery’s throat.
“Damn, boy, shit… Not many girls deep-throat like that,” Gambo said. He let out a little gasp but tried not to let on that this was the best, nastiest blowjob he ever had. “You know that site on Cherry Hill? We’re buildin’ an elementary school. You should come there, man, tell ’em you gotta verify a delivery. They’ll get me.” His voice broke. Avery nodded. He opened his throat as wide as possible as he felt Gambo’s balls crawl up in his sac where it rested against Avery’s chin. Then cum sprayed down his gullet, coating his belly in creamy warmth. Gambo had heavy balls that shot a giant load, more and more continually flowing into him until Avery thought he couldn’t possibly swallow anymore. “Goddamn…” Gambo stayed in position right there above Avery’s head, gripping his scalp. Outside, his coworkers launched into a rowdy round of laughter, and Gambo scrunched his eyes shut tight. Avery pulled off and grinned. “Thanks,” he said as he wiped his lips off. “You have a nice dick.” Gambo sniffled. “I know.” Avery stood, stretching his legs. “You can go, I’ll wait a few minutes then leave by myself.” Gambo nodded. “Okay. Don’t forget, keep comin’ by the worksite. Bring fifty bucks, I’ll let you jerk me off every day.” “Oh… I’m not that kinda guy,” Avery said. “I might come by and see you again sometime. But not every day.” “Why not? Ain’t I got a good dick?” “You do,” Avery said. He stroked Gambo’s limp dick before Gambo shoved it back in his pants and redid his fly. Avery giggled. “But so do lots of other guys. I’ve gotta service ’em all.”
Avery sat in his car, waiting for his stupid brother-in-law to send him a stupid text message. His sister had asked him to help out with something: giving her no-good husband a ride to his boss’ house to beg for his job back. Avery didn’t like his brother-in-law, but he did love his sister. So he agreed, and now he had to sit out here in his car and wait to get the all-clear to leave. He was about to drive off regardless. If his stupid brother-in-law wanted to get picked up again, he could damn well call and ask for another favor. Finally a text message appeared on his phone: nvrmind, thx Avary, all good. That meant Avery’s brother-in-law presumably had his job back again. Avery was glad for him, even if he did strongly dislike the man. He didn’t get why anyone would give him a second chance. He was especially annoyed that, after four years in the family, his brother-in-law still didn’t know how to spell Avery’s name. That was when Avery saw what appeared to be a naked man, climbing out of the top floor of a three-story building. The man was tall and muscular, tattooed, dark-skinned, with short hair and a handsome face. “You fuckin’ piece of shit! I’ll kill you!” A lanky middle-aged white man stuck his head out the window and screamed. Then he ran out, following close behind the black man.
The black man was Tyrell, and he had one hand over his flopping cock as he climbed down the fire escape. He assumed that would be enough to get away from the white man — husband to Tyrell’s latest conquest, whose name was Karen or Carol or something like that.
Tyrell only then saw that this husband was more limber than he seemed. He had long legs and he wasn’t fat like most of the husbands whose wives Tyrell stole. He was rapidly catching up when Tyrell dropped into the alley and ran for the street. He wished he had managed to at least grab his shoes. The pavement here was covered in sharp stones and bits of garbage, and the fire escape rattled above his head where the white man darted down after him. Reaching the street, Tyrell looked left and right, not sure where to go. A police vehicle drove past, but luckily the cop behind the wheel didn’t notice Tyrell standing there naked. Tyrell frowned. He didn’t have a cell phone or any cash on him. He had no car. He had nowhere to go. “Hey, man, need a ride?” Avery’s voice called out from his car. He waved to get Tyrell’s attention. “Hey, man, need a ride?” “Ah, shit, thanks,” Tyrell said. He darted in just as the husband came out of the alley. Avery peeled away in a hurry, and Tyrell breathed a sigh of relief. That sense of relief didn’t last long, however, before Tyrell realized he had gotten into a complete stranger’s car. He was naked, so Tyrell knew he wouldn’t be robbed — he had nothing to steal. But that hardly made this safe. He had been so worried about getting away from that husband that he hadn’t really made sure his sudden escape route was safe. He looked out the car window in time to see the husband shake his fist at the car driving away. Tyrell smirked. He glanced over at the slim black man behind the wheel. “My name is Avery,” the driver said, with a feminine lilt. “I’m Tyrell.” Tyrell sighed and rolled his eyes. “Well, Tyrell, what would you think about… playing around a bit?” Avery’s hand clasped Tyrell’s thigh. Tyrell rolled his eyes and grunted his yes. He sighed more dramatically this time. He acquiesced as Avery’s hand roamed up his well-muscled thigh. But he said, “Nah, man…” “Hmm-hmm.” Avery groped Tyrell’s thigh. “Where do you want to go?” “Ummm… there’s this place out in Crandwell,” Tyrell said. It was the only place he could think of to go. His muscles flexed wherever Avery touched him. He cleared his throat. “I’m technically between places right now. I ain’t homeless or nothin’. There’s this chick out in Crandwell who lets me keep some shit there. I got clothes I can wear — get ya hand off my dick, man.” Avery frowned. Tyrell’s cock was moist and thick, sticking to his leg. Avery had just barely brushed one hand over it to gauge Tyrell’s reaction. “Sorry. I ain’t say you could touch my dick-“ “Can you flex a bicep? You have great arms.” “No.” Avery giggled and stroked Tyrell’s bicep, which was firm even though he didn’t flex it. Avery’s hand moved lower and tweaked Tyrell’s nipple. Touching his nipple made Tyrell’s dick twitch. Tyrell assumed that Avery saw it, though Avery was actually watching the road because he got on the highway. Tyrell sighed. “Don’t read nothin’ into that, my dick ain’t gettin’ hard. I just like it when girls touch my nipples, y’know.” He chuckled throatily. “Hmm-hmm. You’re really handsome.” Avery was a little annoyed that he didn’t get to grope Tyrell’s dick. He had a nice body though, and that felt great beneath Avery’s hand — even that was disappointing because Avery had to watch the road and couldn’t really see Tyrell’s frame or his flexing muscles. “Yeah, whatevuh, man.” Tyrell looked out the window, ignoring Avery’s hand over his chest. “Can I use ya phone? Shit, nah… I don’t know nobody’s numbers.” “How about… if you let me jack you off right now, I’ll let you use my phone, you can message your friends if you want, and I’ll even buy you a new phone if you can’t get your old one back,” Avery said. “What, no shit?” Tyrell scoffed and nodded. “Hell yeah, man!” It was only a handjob, after all, Tyrell thought. He pretended it was fine. It was, really, fine, he assured himself over and over, it wasn’t even his first time with a man. There was a dude in the neighborhood he grew up in who used to jerk off virtually any eighteen-year-old who wanted a blowjob. He had been legendary, and he had throated Tyrell so good Tyrell thought he had broken his cock. But Tyrell had been incredibly horny then, plus drunk. He’d only ever been with two women at that point. He had been desperately horny, and all his friends did it too. They lined up outside the man’s door one night, coming in one by one until the neighbors complained. It would have been weird to not do it at the time. He was drunk enough that it barely mattered, he didn’t even think about it at that moment, and it had only taken about two minutes (he was young, dumb and full of cum). But he had plenty of sex these days. He don’t need none that DL shit. But Tyrell did need a phone and he ain’t want Avery to kick him outta the car, so he just closed his eyes and leaned his head back. His dick was soft and spongy because he had fucked that woman a couple times last night, and his manhood was still recovering. He grinned at the thought of that tight middle-aged pussy. He loved plowing into a pussy some other man thought was his. “You fuck with a lot of married women?” Avery asked. Tyrell scoffed. “Yeah. Guys don’t even know, you don’t own a pussy, y’know, ya gotta earn it, you gotta keep earnin’ it e’ry day. Man, white men gotta have money, ya know, but they don’t realize they females is still out fuckin’ wit’ nigga dick, ya feel me?” “Hmm-hmm…” Avery murmured. Tyrell’s dick was slow to firm up in his hand, especially since Avery was kind of awkward jacking him off in a moving car while he had to also focus on driving. He put it on cruise-control though, now that they were on the highway. “You ever let a guy on you before?” Tyrell nodded. “Once. I was younger then, don’t even try nothin’ now,” he said. “I don’t like messin’ with white dudes. That other nigga got me off real good. But there was this white dude who used to look at me all the time, man. He be hangin’ out in the shower and shit, rubbin’ my back. I know he wanted my dick. I don’t wanna let some white man have that over me, y’know, runnin’ around tell all his little white buddies ’bout the time he got some nigga-dick in his mouth. Nah. No way, nigga, that ain’t how I play.” “It sounds like you have a problem with white men,” Avery said. Tyrell’s dick was rock-hard now, veinily throbbing in Avery’s hand. A few drops of precum slipped out, lubricating him, and Tyrell sighed. Avery giggled. “I ain’t lettin’ you jerk me off neither,” Tyrell said because he could see Avery’s eyes intently staring at his dick — he knew Avery was going to try to throat it sooner or later. “Nah, I ain’t into that. Nothin’ personal, no offense.” “No offense taken.” Tyrell grabbed Avery’s hand as it stroked his dick, and he guided it up and down more quickly. “Like that, good, like that, nigga.” He sighed. Tyrell’s hips pumped, so he humped Avery’s hand just as much as Avery’s hand stroked him. He was surprised at how good the handjob really was. He’d never really enjoyed a handjob like this. He grunted and bit his lip. His breathing sped up as he tried to hump Avery’s hand harder, lifting his hips off the seat. “Damn, nigga-” He choked off his own words as pre-orgasmic pleasure surged through him. He gasped. Avery teased him by stopping, squeezing his dick but not moving his hand again — Tyrell was on the edge of his orgasm, so that made him writhe in frustration and use both of his hands to again force Avery’s hand to move once more. Avery smiled and did so, as Tyrell’s dick erupted in a torrent of cum. “Oh fuck-!” It sprayed all over his bare chest, coating his smooth brown skin in creamy goodness. Avery giggled because it just kept on coming, even though he’d fucked last night, he just had big dangling balls that were chock-full of creamy cum. His wad clung to his muscles and dripped from his pecs. “Ah, shit!” Tyrell said through gritted teeth. A few beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. He couldn’t believe a simple handjob felt this good, and he hoped Avery didn’t get the wrong idea about him because of it. “Ah, nice, nigga, keep strokin’… Hmmm…” He licked his lips. “Don’t let go-” He grunted. “Stroke it real slow now, real slow…” Tyrell’s whole body undulated and he moaned, jetting out a long flow of jizz. Avery’s hand got coated in cum, and Tyrell’s dick soon was soft again, exquisitely sensitive. Tyrell’s whole body trembled as Avery kept on stroking until Tyrell couldn’t take it any more and pushed his hand away. “Good timing,” Avery said. He sucked the cum off his finger, the sound of which made Tyrell gag — girls were never that enthusiastic about cum. Avery grinned as he sucked every drop of salty, cum-drenched man-chest. He pulled off the highway into Crandwell. “We’re almost there.” “Yeah, cool,” Tyrell said. He chuckled, trying to recover his breath without looking impressed. It was just a handjob, a mandingo-nigga like himself couldn’t get excited over a handjob without blowing his rep. He heaved for air as casually as he could manage. “Cool. You better buy me that phone.”
“I will. Where’s this house you can get clothes at?”
Tyrell gave him directions to a tony neighborhood a ways off the highway. There he pulled up to a house with a pool out back. “Don’t worry, I fuck wit’ this divorced lady, she don’t need to hide nothin’.” He got out, wrapping a jacket around his waist so he could walk to the front door without flashing the neighborhood. He had no sooner stepped out, however, when a slightly haggard woman came out of the front door. “No way, Tyrell! Get outta here! My husband’s back!” “What?” “My husband’s back! You gotta go-“ A burly middle-aged white man came out from behind the house. He saw Tyrell’s mostly naked body. “What the fuck’s going on? Who are you?” Tyrell was crestfallen for a couple reasons. Most importantly, he was shocked that she had chosen her husband over him. She’d been bad-mouthing her husband for more than a year. She said over and over that Tyrell was younger, sexier, bigger-cocked, better-in-bed and just plain more charming. He was better in every way than her ex-husband. So what, Tyrell thought, was wrong with him? Why had she chosen the husband over him? Not that long ago, he could say “all I care about is smashing sum pussy” and that was true; now, Tyrell wasn’t so sure. “Huh? Whatchoo doin’, man? You best get outta here!” The man’s face turned ruddy, and he came closer. “You tryin’-a mess wit’ my wife?” Tyrell was used to messing around with nerdy white guys’ wives, not big men like him. He didn’t like retreating but he had few options. He took a step back then darted back into Avery’s car. “Drive.” “What’s happening?” Avery was confused, scared of the large white man approaching his car. “What the fuck is going on?” said the white man. “You coming at my wife, boy?” “Just drive!” Avery ripped the car into reverse and floored it out of the driveway. Luckily no one was coming on the street or Avery might have backed right into them. He peeled away towards the highway. “Shit,” Tyrell said. He sighed. “Well, fuck.” “You wanna go get that phone now then?” “Yeah, I guess so,” Tyrell said. Now he really didn’t know what to do. Now, he thought, he was technically homeless. But he didn’t say that just yet. “Do you… want to stay with me?” Avery asked. He got the feeling from Tyrell’s silence that he now needed a place to stay. Tyrell shrugged. “Do, I, uh… gotta… pay rent?” “Sort of,” Avery said with a giggle. “I only have one bed.” There was a long awkward silence in the car. Tyrell wrinkled his nose. “Fine. But you gotta buy me stuff. Not just the phone. Like I need some clothes and shit, and, uh… a toothbrush.” “Sure.” “And…” There was so much going on that Tyrell struggled to think of something nice he could demand. “Uh… nice clothes. Like real nice clothes.” “Yeah, cool.” Avery drove to the All-Mart. Since Tyrell couldn’t go in without any clothes, he stayed out in the car, while Avery went in to buy a cheap smartphone, some clothes, shoes and a few odds and ends. He was relieved to come out and find Tyrell hadn’t hotwired his car. “These clothes’ll have to do for now,” Avery said. “I’ll buy you some nicer stuff online, okay?” “Fine.” Tyrell felt better when he had some clothes on, and he quickly got to work on his phone. Once he got logged into Facebook, he could send his friends his new number. So he was involved in that and didn’t talk much, or even pay any attention to Avery’s groping of his biceps and limp cock, until they pulled into Avery’s driveway. Avery led him inside. In the house, Avery was disappointed to see Tyrell in clothes. They both kept to themselves for a little while. Tyrell needed to get his life back in order — canceling his old phone, sending desperate messages to that married woman (until she blocked him), bragging to his niggas about the white chick he had boned (which made him feel better). Avery made spaghetti — he had plenty of pasta and jarred sauce, and he figured Tyrell would like to have a big meal that was not quite home-cooked, but still plenty damn good. It was the good kind of jarred sauce anyway. “So do I gotta… you know, perform for my dinner?” Tyrell asked. Avery clucked his tongue. “No. I’m not gonna starve you, Tyrell. You can ram me later tonight, once you’ve eaten.” Tyrell was relieved. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he saw the food. He slurped down spaghetti, noodles and the leftover Italian sausage Avery had added. Tyrell felt much better once he had eaten. He went in and took a long hot shower, which felt good too. Then he came out before bed, in time to see Avery putting on a silky bathrobe. Tyrell followed him into his bedroom, his heart pounding. He’d never plowed a man in the ass before. Tyrell fucked mainly with middle-aged white women, and while he liked to brag that he got them to give up the booty, that wasn’t really true. He’d only ever had anal sex with four women, and three of them made him quit before he even got his whole dick in there. Tyrell closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He could do this. It would be easier, he thought, if he just pretended he was with a woman. He leaned in slowly, like women liked, and wrapped his muscles around Avery. He wrinkled his nose when Avery planted his lips on Tyrell’s, but Tyrell submitted as Avery’s tongue invaded his mouth. Avery erupted in moans, stroking Tyrell’s powerful chest, which was moist with shower water. Avery figured Tyrell would feel most comfortable if Avery acted like a woman in love with him, being seduced. Avery giggled girlishly as Tyrell kissed him on the lips and the neck, then Avery slowly lowered himself to his knees. “Alright, then, man, go ahead and jerk me off,” Tyrell said with a grunt. Avery pulled off Tyrell’s towel, revealing that big floppy cock. Tyrell took a deep breath, and his cock popped into Avery’s mouth. Avery smiled around it — it was clean and meaty and he could tell it was well-used too, like a muscle exhausted after a long day of work. Tyrell fucked so many women that he got hard quickly even though he’d cum a couple times today already. It had been hours, after all, which was plenty of time for him. He put his hands on his hips, watching his dick slide down Avery’s throat. “Yeah, swallow it, boi, swallow it deep…” It was rock-hard and throbbing soon enough, and the salty taste of precum hit Avery’s lips. Avery smiled up at him, his hands roaming over Tyrell’s muscular chest. When he was ready, Avery turned around, leaned over the bed and jutted his ass up. Tyrell tried to cover up his lack of confidence, but Avery could tell how nervous he was. Tyrell wondered how much like a woman’s ass this would feel. It’s good to do this once, Tyrell tried to tell himself. Lotta niggas ram once or twice. Avery gritted his teeth as a jolt of pain hit him. Tyrell had a big dick, so even with lube, there was a little agony as that first inch or two of cockmeat pushed into him. Avery struggled, and Tyrell grunted. “Damn, boy,” Tyrell said. He’d never really worked through this kind of anal resistance. He was ginger, reluctant at first. He’d only fucked four girls in the ass and three of them gave up as soon as he hit resistance. The fourth was a major slut who took it in the ass all the time, so there had been no resistance. Tyrell slowly worked his cock in, centimeter by centimeter. His hands instinctively touched Avery’s ass, then he pulled away because he didn’t want to touch a man. Then a surge of pleasure hit him, and Tyrell moaned despite his anxiety. He found his fingers on Avery’s pert ass — which, he thought, looked and felt very much like a girl’s — spreading the cheeks. “Damn, man…” Tyrell grunted. His cock slid the rest of the way in, and they both moaned together. “Oh god… Damn, nigga!” Tyrell didn’t know anal could be like this. Avery was tight and strong and experienced, and he could take every inch of dickmeat like few women could. He wasn’t loose either; he didn’t feel like a slut. He felt amazing, and Tyrell couldn’t believe it. This, he thought, was better than any of the female asses he’d ever been in, not that Tyrell was going to admit that. He pounded away, soon losing all of his inhibitions. He didn’t even mind his chest touching Avery’s back as he rammed his dick in harder and harder. Soon he had Avery pinned on the bed, squirming beneath Tyrell’s massive body. Tyrell slammed his dick in and out, having lost his gingerness as he now realized Avery could take any amount of ramming. “Shit yeah!” Tyrell gripped his cheeks and moaned out his orgasm, surprised to see that Avery shot his own load at the same time. The smell of cum filled the air, and Tyrell sprayed his giant wad within Avery’s ass. It just kept on flowing, overflowing, dripping down and coating Avery’s thighs in creamy goodness. He had a big dick too, which Avery loved, and that meant Avery could feel its protruding veins throbbing inside him. At last, it was over, and Tyrell pulled out. He grinned, wiping sweat off his chest. “Damn, boy… Hmm, you got ass fo’ real…” “Hmmm…” Avery wanted to say something flirtatious, but he was too overwhelmed by the most intense orgasm he’d felt in a long time. He curled up on the bed and motioned for Tyrell to lay next to him. Tyrell did so. He was tired now, having barely slept the night before. He didn’t even mind letting Avery paw all over him as they settled into bed together. When I tell people about this — if I ever do — I’ll definitely tell them I made Avery sleep on the couch. The last thing Tyrell did before falling asleep was tap Avery on the shoulder. Tyrell grinned. “Hey, you wanna mess around tomorrow?” Avery nodded, bleary-eyed. “Then get ready to buy me a car.”
“There you are, Wink, I see you comin’ my way! Why don’t you break me off a piece of that sugar?” That was it, that was him. Avery stepped out from behind the dumpster and stopped in front of Wink. He was a short black man, muscular but not large, firm and tight-bodied beneath an ill-fitting suit. It wasn’t colorful enough or nice enough to be a pimp suit — it was faded and frayed, loose threads and old stains abounding.
Andre “Wink” Winkle came down here to Canal Street every weekend. He always paid for a blowjob from one of the hookers. He always asked for anal, but he never had the money for it. He begged them to let him in the back-door for free, promising that he’d lick their pussy when he was done — Avery suspected he would have an excuse to leave if that ever happened: no straight man ate prostitutes’ pussies, he thought.
Avery thought Wink was willing to try a different route to that backdoor. “I’m comin’ fo’ you, girl!” Wink said to the prostitutes. He walked slowly, with a barely perceptible limp.
“Hey,” Avery said. He startled Wink, who glared at him. “You wanna make some money? I’ll pay you a hundred bucks to do to me whatever you were gonna do to her, and more. You can ram me six ways to Sunday.” Wink had been bopping his head to an unheard beat as he came down the alley. He kept bouncing on his feet, even as his eyes bugged out. Then finally he stopped and chuckled. “Yo,” he said, flat and simple. “What?” Avery repeated himself. He blushed a little. This was always the awkward part, and he was suddenly a lot less confident that Wink would say yes. “I’ll give you a hundred dollars. All you gotta do is ram me.” “Yo, I, uh, I don’t mess ’round on the downlow, sho’ don’t, sho’ don’t.” “This wouldn’t be on the downlow, this would be here in public.” “That ain’t a sellin’ point, man,” he said with a snarl. He pushed Avery out of the way. “Go’n, boi, get outta here b’fore I swipe ya head off. I ain’t no boytoy, no way, no way.” He had barely even stopped walking for a moment before continuing on, doing his little rap to that same beat he had been tapping as he came in. He shook his head and headed towards the girls. “C’mon, baby, you look tasty tonight! You wear that suit like a stud!” “You get all dressed up like that for me, sweetie? Ain’t you the handomest?!” Avery was disappointed. He was usually a good read on men. Wink had seemed like he’d do it for some money, but the way he phrased that and the way he moved on right away made it seem like he would not do it for any amount of money. “Yo, sweetheart, you lookin’ fine in that purple. Whatcha think ’bout-” Wink stopped talking and turned around. He jogged back to Avery and smiled, showing off deep dimples. “Yo, I forgot, I do it. Two hundred and some pee.” Then, he gasped, “I mean, in a cup, man. Pee in a cup. Not, you know… Pee in a cup. I need it tomorruh for a pee test. Need it bad, fo’ real, this nigga need it bad.” Avery was taken aback. “Oh. You forgot? You forgot you do swing downlow?” “I just… I remembered this little chore I got, yo, it’s real impo’tant and it ain’t not a bit of yo’ business ‘t all,” he said. He snorted. “But yeah, I gots a plan fo’ that money, hell yeah, hell yeah. And that’ll be the first time I evuh got clean pee for my PO.” He peered at Avery. “You smoke weed?” He screwed up his eyebrows, “No. Well, yes, but I haven’t smoked in months,” Avery said. He nodded. “Okay, good.” He produced a specimen cup — an actual one, from a lab — and handed it over. Avery went behind the dumpster to pee. “You carry this around with you?” “I was goin’ somewhere wit’ it, yo,” he said, snarling like he didn’t like Avery inquiring about it. He came up behind Avery by the dumpster. He swiped the cup from him as soon as Avery had replaced the lid. He didn’t seem to care that a few drops of pee got on the sleeve of his ratty old suit. “Get on yo’ knees. You ain’t a girl, so don’t even think I’mma seduce you or call you ‘sweetheart’ or kiss you. I don’t nevuh did stick no male man, no way. Nope, nope.” “No problem,” Avery said as he dropped to his knees. The nearby hos could still be heard. “Where’d Wink go? He was just here.” Wink chuckled dryly. He had a nice, raspy throat that made Avery hard. Avery undid the fly of his nattered suitpants. He pulled out a juicy, fat cock. Since Wink was short and not especially large, his cock looked even bigger, extending almost all the way to his knees and as plump in diameter as his forearm. “Just put the tip in yo’ mouth, boy,” Wink said. Then he clucked his tongue against his teeth. “Yo, I don’t like sayin’ that. I’mma call you girl. Okay, girl? Huh? Huh?” “Uh-huh,” Avery spoke around the cock throbbing in his throat. It was limp still, but it was gathering steam. He could feel it twitching and twinkling as Wink got used to the situation. “Alright, yo, girl, alright, put the tip in yo’ mouth.” He paused and pulled out a cigarette. He patted his pants pockets. “Damn, girl, you got a lighter?” Avery shook his head. He put the tip of Wink’s dick in his mouth and suckled loudly, moistly. He got a taste of clean cock — it was clear Wink had showered right beforehand. He must have wanted to be at his cleanest for the prostitute he planned on hiring. Wink snorted. A trashy-looking white redneck walked past the dumpster, heading towards the girls. He didn’t notice Wink throating down in the shadows. “Yo, hey, man,” Wink called out to him. “You got a light, man?” The redneck nodded. He fished a lighter out and gave it to Wink, who lit his cigarette and took a deep drag. The redneck realized then that Wink was getting dome from a man, and he backed away. “Uh, keep the lighter,” he said. He turned around and darted towards the prostitutes. Wink cackled. “Whiteboys don’t know nothin’ ’bout this kinda shit. They squeamish as all hell, yo.” He took another drag. “Free lighter, alright, alright, alright.” He sighed. “Alright, now get ya tongue out a bit, girl. Move it around some.” Avery did what he said. He kept sucking on the tip and licking the shaft at the same time, his tongue flickering out to tease every inch of his manhood. Wink leaned against the brick wall facing the dumpster. He closed his eyes and groaned. “Yo, lick right here, baby,” he said. He pointed to a spot, and when Avery licked that enthusiastically, Wink groaned again. He smiled. “Yeah, you pretty good. I’m gonna keep tellin’ you how to do it, girl. Hope that’s okay. I’m sure you got ‘xperience, but I like it done in just the right way. Lick here now, girl, get that tongue out… Yeah… Yeah…” He spoke in a low, slow-melting voice. “Hmmm, c’m’ere big boy…!” “Want a date, sugah?” “Is that you, Wink? I see you there. Whatchoo doin’ behind the dumpsters? Ain’t you gonna come see me?” Wink laughed and covered his face. He poked his head out from behind the dumpster. “Hey, sweetheart! I might take a break this week.” He snorted and smiled. “Wait! Nah! You come on ovuh here, Sharlene! I got somethin’ for ya! It’s gonna be real special!” His voice was smooth and kind, but then he glared down at Avery and spoke more brusquely. “Alright, you can deep-throat me now, girl.” Avery was excited to show his capabilities. He slammed his face all the way down on Wink’s dick, until his nose mashed into the fabric of his slacks. His wiry pubic hair scratched at Avery’s lips and his balls swayed past his chin. “Okay, nice, alright then, alright, alright,” Wink said, like he hadn’t expected Avery to make it feel so good. He smiled as Sharlene approached. She was a big black girl with a wide ass. She wore a bright green dress that showed off her assets. She smiled at Wink, then frowned when she saw that he was in a man’s mouth. “Hello,” she said. She glared at Avery and barked out, “What’s this? You stealin’ my customers? My daddy Slim Jay ain’t gonna be happy ’bout that.” Avery grinned, but he didn’t pull off Wink’s cock, which throbbed in his throat. Wink gasped like he was shocked that Wink could deep-throat him all the way to the root. “Don’t be salty, baby,” Wink said. He leaned over and kissed Sharlene on the cheek. “He payin’ me, I’m just savin’ some money. You still my one and only. Maybe I can pay you fo’ some anal action next week, you know.” “Uh-huh.” She put her hands on her hips. “You leavin’ me high and dry.” “I don’t want you dry, no way, no way. Lemme give you ten,” he said. He pulled out a ten-dollar bill. “I finger ya real good, baby, baby doll.” He smiled and held up two fingers like he was negotiating. “I put two fingers in ya pussy and one in the ass. You like that? Huh? Or you want two in the ass and one in ya pussy?” She took the ten-dollar bill. She frowned down at Avery. “You best hurry up, man. If my daddy come by and you still here, he gonna kick at least three asses. Ten dollahs ain’t enough to make him happy.” Wink kissed her on the lips. His tongue plunged into her mouth. His head was turned to the side to reach her face, while his crotch was forward for perfect access for Avery. As always, when Avery got into the swing of his latest piece of street trade, he felt a real sense of intimacy with his man. He always thought the best way to get to know a man was to get him off. All of his inner feelings and dreams were palpable when you had him at his most vulnerable, allowing a man to swing on his meat. And Wink was no exception. Avery swallowed his cock to the root as Wink kissed the prostitute and fingered her pussy and ass. She submited boredly, but Wink acted like she was just as passionate as she was. Wink wore this suit to impress her. Avery had been going back and forth whether he wore it for her or because he just thought he looked good or maybe he was going to go club-hopping later, maybe he just wanted to get his rocks off before hitting on pretty girls so he wouldn’t be too horny. Or maybe he just always wore a suit, or he was hoping to become a pimp one day. There were a million reasons he might be wearing the cheap, ill-fitting burgundy suit. But the more he swallowed, the more Avery knew the answer — Wink wanted to look his best for Sharlene, or whichever prostitute looked best to him when he got here. He felt like a trashy loser when he dressed in his ordinary t-shirt and jeans to get a blowjob from a whore, so he wore his only suit instead. He talked like he was seducing her, like she was his girlfriend, like he really loved her, because he wished he was the kind of man who felt that way about a girl. Now that Wink was knuckle-deep in the plump prostitute, his dick throbbed and jerked around within Avery’s throat. It spewed precum in copious quantities. “I love you, baby, I love you so much, yo, yo,” Wink murmured to her. He tried to drag Avery’s head off his cock, but Avery resisted. Wink grunted. “Am I the only nigga you want?” “Baby, you really are,” she said with a canned moan. She kissed him back on the neck. He chuckled. “Damn, I like this. Only cost me ten bucks, and I’s gettin’ paid by the sissy. I’s makin’ a profit tonight, damn-howdy!” The prostitute took a step back. She shook her head. “Nah. My daddy gonna be very mad ’bout that, Wink.” “What?” He had a big smile on his face like a mischievous little boy who had just gotten in trouble. “Only his girls is allowed to work this alley,” she said. “He go’n cut you. Or just demand all the money the sissy is paying you. Or both.” Wink chuckled. “Baby, don’t tell him, okay? You still gettin’ paid-“ “He’s my daddy, I gotta tell him! He get salty if I don’t.” “If you don’t tell him, he won’t know nothin’, baby, baby,” Wink said. He slipped a second finger into her pussy and groaned. She kissed him on the neck. Wink groaned. “Tell him the sissy ain’t pay. Tell him I let him jerk me off as a freebie.” “He won’t like that much either, nigga,” she said. Wink sighed. “Then tell him to fuck off, I don’t care. Quit talkin’ ’bout yo’ pimp.” He looked down at Avery, whose head bobbed up and down on his dick. “You can stop, whiteboy. I got a female now.” Sharlene started rubbing his chest through his shirt and talking about how much she wanted a taste of his cock. Wink just smiled and fingered her pussy. He brought his fingers up to his nose to sniff them. Precum flowed into Avery’s mouth now, as Wink’s cock hit the back of his throat again and again. Avery’s nose was buried in Wink’s pubic hair and the burgundy fabric of his suit. Wink kept half-heartedly trying to get Avery to stop — Wink had money now, so he could buy whatever he wanted from Sharlene. Avery wasn’t about to stop until he got his money’s worth. “Suck on ’em, baby, lemme see it,” Wink said. He tried to put his fingers in her mouth, but she kept her lips closed. “Another ten bucks, sweetheart,” she said softly. “You charge money to suck on my finger? It just got ya pussyjuice on it, baby? I love you-” His dick throbbed in Avery’s mouth. “I love you too, Wink, but I gotta pay my daddy,” she said. “Ten bucks and I’ll suck on any finger you put in front of my mouth.” He chuckled and handed over another ten dollar bill. He shook his head and bit his lip. He put his fingers back in her pussy, then removed his other finger, the one that had been in her ass. “Hmm,” she moaned like she had been waiting for that. She swallowed his callused finger, making him shudder and lean back again. Avery stopped throating his cock. Wink watched his finger slide in and out of her mouth like he was hypnotized, like he hadn’t even noticed his climax was finished. Avery pulled his pants down and bared his ass. Without a word from Wink, Avery backed up. He squeezed Wink’s cock into his asshole. Wink just kept sticking his fingers in the prostitute’s holes; he switched his fingers around like it was a game, smilingly sickly as she sucked her pussy and ass juices off his finger. Finally he looked down to see his cock slide into Avery’s ass. He wrinkled his nose a bit, then went back to kissing the prostitute. His whole body trembled beneath the suit. “Yo, baby, I love ass,” he said. “Love it!” He said it to her even though the only person whose ass he was in was Avery. His hands roamed over her tits and tweaked her nipples through her green dress. “Can I suck on ya titties, baby, baby doll? I love you so much. I’mma be wit’ you forevuh.” “Uh-huh,” she crooned. “Twenty bucks.” “Twenty bucks to suck on ya titties?!” She smiled. “If you gimme another twenty bucks, I’ll have made fifty bucks off ya. That’s enough I can give my daddy, he ain’t gotta be mad,” she said. “Alrighty, then, alrighty, but only cuz I love ya and I don’t want him beatin’ on ya, baby. That ain’t a good value, twenty bucks fo’ some titties, nah,” he said with a laugh. But he paid the twenty dollars anyway, and he dove for her chest. He lowered her dress to bare the tits and began licking. He groaned. His cock spasmed in Avery’s ass.
Avery savored the exquisite feeling of Wink’s meat throbbing inside him. He moaned. He had to grip the side of the dumpster for support. It took all of his coordination to keep moving his ass back and forth on Wink’s cock, because Wink didn’t move his hips at all; Avery was responsible for the entirety of the action. Wink ignored Avery completely, kissing and pawing over the prostitute instead.
Wink had never told anyone, but Avery was not the first man he stuck up behind. When Wink was in prison for two years, he had a thin, delicate black man as a cellmate. Initially, Wink had beaten him up and taken his fruit cup in the mess hall. He arrived at prison wanting to show off and make a name for himself, and he was glad to have a small, weak cellmate he could pound on. But over the next nineteen months, Wink went him hating his lilting cellmate to feeling sorry for him to being grateful for his attention to enjoying his presence to even giving an enthusiastic reacharound after a few gulps of toilet wine (when there was a sheet up over the cell bars so no one knew Wink had touched another man’s cock). When Wink was released, he had sworn to himself he was going to make changes in his life, and one of those changes was that he was going to keep visiting his former cellmate. He liked to feel wanted. He had sworn on his good name that he’d keep coming back. But once he was free, and he saw girls all over the place, and he got some good-natured ribbing about what he might have done with other males in prison, Wink wasn’t comfortable with it. In his cell, he could put up a sheet for privacy. If he went to prison as a visitor, he couldn’t hide anything. So in the end, he had never once visited the man he spent all those passionate nights with. He regretted it often, but Wink never looked him up again. He counted down the days to the man’s scheduled release date, and then he counted up the days since he had been released. When he rammed Avery there in the alley, that was what he thought about, even as he fingered Sharlene. He kissed her while imagining he was kissing a man who didn’t need to be paid to care for him. “Kiss me, baby,” he moaned. He grabbed her body and held her close. He kissed her tight on the lips, his tongue exploring her mouth. He was short and she was a little taller than him, but she was much thicker, so he looked even smaller in comparison, like she could have swallowed him up whole if she wanted. His cock spasmed as he groaned into her mouth. His muscles tensed beneath the suit, which was now plastered to his chest with sweat. His balls drew up in his sac, and for the first time since this had begun, he gripped Avery’s bare asscheeks. He loudly orgasmed, gasping and heaving in the shadowy alley. Wink held Avery in place and swayed his hips from side to side, humping every inch of his insides. Cum sprayed over his prostate, triggering Avery’s own orgasm at last. He sprayed his wad onto the garbagey alley ground, while Wink’s load coated his body. Wink kept on ramming, sucking on the prostitute’s tongue and tweaking her nipples with both hands. His cock rammed in and out of Avery’s cum-dripping ass. The more he rammed, the more of a mess he made — Wink had developed this game with his cellmate, making his load frothy, spilling out, bubbling forth in a big drippy wad that made him gag and laugh. “Damn, boy, you take it — I mean, damn, girl, you got real nasty there, that was nice,” Wink said. He whistled. He pointed to the messy ass. “You see that, Sharlene? Lookit that. That is some nasty anal. That is right. That’s how you do it That’s how you do it!.” “I do that, sugah,” Sharlene said like she was offended at the insinuation that she didn’t know how. “You know my price. You know I don’t give no discounts on anal, not no how.” He smiled. He kissed Sharlene on the lips. “Yo’ daddy lettin’ you go out sometime, baby? I take you out to dinner-“ “No, sugah, that ain’t allowed,” she said. She pulled her dress back up over her tits. He shrugged like he was expecting that answer, which he was: he asked her that every time she sucked him off. She said no every time he hired her, which was most weeks — basically unless she was with a different john when he arrived. He didn’t like waiting for her because it gave him plenty of time to wonder what kind of guy she was with, and then she’d inevitably taste like another man when he did get to kiss her. He knew that she was with a lot of men regardless; it was just easier to forget that when he didn’t have to wait for her to be finished with them. “Hey, girl,” he said to Avery as he smacked Avery’s asscheeks. “Will you suck my nut out ya asshole? I want that. That’s hot, man. I love that. Ain’t no kinda girls ever do that. I never seen a female do that, and it turns me on so much-” He paused, then lied as he realized he had sort of admitted he did this with a man before “I mean, some girls do it, some do. That’s how I know how hot it is. But a lot of ’em won’t do it, nuh-uh.” The only person he had ever seen suck cum out of his own ass was his cellmate, but Wink wasn’t about to admit that. “Okay, yeah,” Avery said. Wink smiled. He let go of the prostitute and slowly withdrew his limp dick. He gagged at the sight of juices dripping from it. He laughed so loud it echoed against the walls of the dumpster. “Ugh, this is so nasty, girl, I love it. I’m gonna love you too if you do this. I swear to God, I will marry you any day if you promise to suck on ass-to-mouth. So fuckin’ nasty. Nasty. Nasty. Nasty. I love it.” He stroked his cock with one hand. It was so sensitive he yelped and his body undulated beneath the suit. He loosened the tie with his other hand. He rammed two fingers into Avery’s ass. He gagged again, laughing nervously at his own reaction. He clawed inside Avery’s body, causing a torrent of pain and exquisite post-orgasmic pleasure. He pulled his fingers out and watched with wide-eyed amazement as Avery sucked them clean. His fingers and hand were soaked in cum and assjuice. Avery loved it. If he had thought Wink would ever agree to finger his asshole, he would have asked — he would have paid more if he knew it was an option, so he was glad Wink had initiated it for free instead. Wink’s fingers were callused and scarred, and they tasted like stale sweat beneath the assjuice and cum. “That was so disgusting, girl, I love it,” he said to Avery. “I swear to God, I will marry you, baby.” He paused. “I ain’t serious, I know you ain’t no girl. I won’t marry you. No how, no way.” “I know,” Avery said. He pulled his own pants up. He felt grimy and dirty, but he loved that feeling. He watched Wink tuck away his own cock and zip his slacks back up. Daddy’s here, where’s my money, babies?! A big black man in a fine blue suit — this one was perfectly tailored, vibrantly colored and clean as a whistle — Slim Jay — walked into the alley. He bellowed, and the prostitutes at the other end of the alley all spoke at once. There was a chorus of feminine voices. The pimp didn’t notice Sharlene there, so she stepped out from behind him. She smiled and giggled to get his attention. “Oh, hello, baby, whatchoo doin’ back there?” He saw Wink. “G’evenin’, sir. You got ya usual?” Wink laughed. “Not the usual, exactly. But I got what I need, nigga, no pro’lem.” He walked away, dapping his head as he walked, dancing to an unheard beat just like he was when he entered the alley. Avery hid there in the shadows for a moment, while the prostitute handed her money over and explained what had happened. When her pimp glowered a little like the money she had earned was not enough, Avery wondered if he was going to get in trouble after all. So he fled into the night. He was thin and quick, and the pimp didn’t know he was there, so he just darted right past him and ran out of the alley.
