Avery stumbles across a desperate alpha in a pawnshop, resulting in Avery’s latest adventure in rough trade. Garrett needs to get his chains back after pawning them, which means he needs some cheddar, and Avery is all too happy to help out!
Can Garrett satisfy his debt?!
Read the whole thing here!
Avery walked out of the coffee shop with his laptop in the satchel he carried at his side. He was not enjoying the weather here in Lawrence, Kansas, but he wasn’t going to leave until tomorrow morning. He had finished his work for the day, so he thought he might wander through the city’s downtown to see if he could reward himself. His natural inclination was to reward himself with something fattening, but he was trying to eat better, so he looked in every non-restaurant he passed.
He thought he deserved a reward because he had finished an entire erotic novella about a billionaire who fell in love with his secretary. The billionaire was a Taiwanese amateur boxer, while the secretary was a black woman and ex-con with a heart of gold — it was a story he had written a million times before, or at least what was how it felt.
The plan for the day was just to write the bw/am story itself, then finish it with sex and editing tomorrow. But he had been on a roll, and the coffee at the Darling Donuts was good, so he stayed. He finished the whole thing. It was rough, but he’d have it edited by nightfall, and he’d turn it into his client in a few days — he never sent work in early, so as to avoid raising expectations for next time.
What was there to do in this town anyway? It seemed kind of dead tonight. There was a barbershop, a rickety old convenience store, a tea shop — Avery was a coffee man — and a pharmacy. None of those things interested him, so he continued down the street.
A pawnshop.
He liked pawnshops, for a couple reasons. He collected world music, for one, and he sometimes found obscure tapes or CDs from all over the world in pawnshops. He didn’t think he was likely to find anything too interesting in Lawrence, Kansas, but it was worth a try. Maybe some Native American music, he thought, that might be cool.
He veered into the shop. It was small, cluttered, a bit dusty, a bit dirty, a bit rich, a bit grimy, exactly how a pawnshop should be. There was a slightly yellowed wedding dress, a dozen used air-conditioners, gaming consoles of every variety and even a rack of guns behind the counter. Avery browsed through the items on sale, then went for a stack of vinyl, which appeared to be the only music available.
It was all psychedelic rock from the 60s. He was disappointed. This was one person’s collection, clearly, probably sold off in an estate sale. It wasn’t even anything interesting from that era. The most obscure recording was Blue Cheer. Avery already had anything here he wanted. This was the record collection of a completionist, but he or she only completed the most popular, well-known bands of the era.
“Nah, that ain’t… nah, you ain’t pickin’ up what I’m puttin’ down,” came a deep, burly voice.
Avery turned to see a tall, stately black man with broad shoulders and a potent frame, a bandage on his neck and cuts all over his right arm, which was bare because all he wore was a wifebeater and a pair of basketball shorts. His ass jutted out, barely covered, the top of his asscheeks revealed — he wore only tattered white boxers and below that, bare flesh that made Avery’s mouth water. His hair was done up in a mohawk of sorts, shaved on the sides except for a ring from his ears to his nape, while the mohawk itself was short and boxy — a Mandinka warrior mohawk.
The black man was grim, angry but not rageful. His voice was flat. “You don’t get it-“
“Garrett, listen, all I can do is keep the one chain, give you the rest. I get what you’re saying, but this ain’t enough,” said the shopkeeper. He was a dour-faced black man with a white beard. He was tall and lanky, dwarfed by the mucscle-bound thickness of Garrett’s body. He glowered at Garrett.
Garrett cleared his throat. “I pity a fool who lie about suhh’in that happened like two days ago, nigga. I know how much was on the ticket, and you ain’t right, you foolin’-“
“I don’t think you do know nothin’ ‘bout it, and might I add, I don’t like you usin’ that n-word in my store. I ain’t never cotton to that, and I know I have asked you before not to say it.”
“Alright, man, just…” Garrett threw his arms in the air. “You kiddin’ me, right? I brought two hundred dollars, nig-… man! Just-“
“The ticket say two-twenty-“
“Fuck that ticket-“
“Hey, uh, excuse me…” Avery cut in and got Garrett’s attention. “You need twenty bucks, man? I’ll pay you more than that.” He casually got Garrett to take a few steps away. Avery wasn’t ordinarily a very flamboyant man, but he made sure to flash a limp wrist.
“Man, I dunno who you-“
“I said come on, I can help you,” Avery said. He blushed as he stroked Garrett’s bicep. That threw him off his game, and he scowled at Avery. Avery had to stand on his toes to reach Garrett’s arm. “Come on, we need a little privacy.”
Garrett furrowed his brow and followed Avery away, almost all the way to the front door. “Whatchoo want, fairyboy?”
“I’ll give you two hundred bucks to ram me.”
Garrett was quiet for a minute. Then he laughed. He looked at Avery like he wondered if he was kidding. Then he looked back at the shopkeeper as though it might be a prank, but the old man stood there with his arms crossed, like he disapproved of interracial whispering. He furrowed his brow and scrutinized them both.
It was hard to switch gears from anger at the pawnshop owner to confusion at Avery’s advance. Garrett rocked back and forth on his feet for a moment. He furrowed his brow.
“Did you hear me?” Avery asked. “I wanna get it up the ass-“
Then Garrett laughed. “White Man, what?”
“You want your chains back, right?”
Garrett massaged his neck. “Yeah, I been in lockup for a couple days, I gave ‘em up, y’know, cuz… well, nevermind, I had to pawn ‘em. But I got the money, yo.” He turned around. “I brought the right amount-“
“Fuck you and yo’ amount, Garrett!”
“Fuck you, old nigga!”
“Don’t you holler at me in my shop!”
Avery got his attention again, eager to prevent a fight. “Hey, hey, Garrett, come on, I’ll give you two hundred bucks to ramrod me.”
Garrett smiled at him. “White Man, you are crazy. How do you know I won’t beat you up and take yo’ two hundred bucks?”
“Cuz you want dome. If you just got outta prison, I know you wanna get a nut off,” Avery said. “Right? Don’t tell me you had a jail wife, you were only in there two days. Right? That’s why you pawned your chains two days ago? You knew you were going to need-“
Garrett sighed. “I only need twenty bucks. Whatchoo want for twenty bucks? You wanna see it? You can pet it.” He flopped his dick out of his shorts. It was massive, and it gleamed in the dim light of the pawnshop. Avery did it indeed pet it with one finger.
“What the fuck? Put yo’ dick away, Garrett! What is that? This is some fuckin’perverted shit!” the shopkeeper shouted.
Garrett sucked on his teeth but tucked his cock away. He frowned at the shopkeeper. “Fuck you, old nigga. I don’t like hearin’ that f-word, y’know. That ain’t right wit’ Jesus. Maybe I take my business elsewhere.”
“I’m the one got yo’ chains. Yo’ business is right here.” The shopkeeper shouted as Garrett walked out. Avery paid for the chains quickly, then followed Garrett out the door. The shopkeeper scoffed and watched him go.
It was a warm summer day in Lawrence, Kansas, and Avery was glad to be back out on the street. The pawnshop was overly warm and musty, with an odd smell that he hadn’t been able to place until it was gone: it smelled like old-man. It smelled like that old man. It smelled like an old black man: band-aids and medicinal ointments, an unwashed barbershop comb.
But now all Avery could smell was car exhaust and the funk of Garrett’s prison-musk body. When he moved his arms, Avery got a whiff of his unwashed sweat, which made Avery’s dick harden up in his pants.
Those white boxers Avery had seen before were jail-issue, weren’t they? Had Garrett not been wearing underwear when he was arrested?
“You serious, White Man?” Garrett asked when he was outside, his eyes lighting up. He put the nine chains Avery had paid for around his neck. They were plain gold and platinum, probably not even real, Avery suspected, though he didn’t say that. Garrett grabbed his cock through his shorts, then winced in pain at his injured ribs.
“Yeah. Hell yeah. You ever done that?”
Garrett chuckled. “Fuck yeah. Course I done it.” He snorted and grabbed his cock through shorts. Then he paused. “Nah. Not really.” He led Avery around the corner into an alley. There was a homeless man in the alley too, sleeping behind a dumpster. Garrett ignored him. “Once I got drunk and my nigga and me, we messed around. And once I got even drunker, and I ramrodded the everlovin’ shit outta this othuh drunk nigga. I ain’t even know it at the time, my friends tell me next day, I thought it was my girl and shit. But he was a fuckin’ pussy anyway, dawg, ya feel me, so whatever.” He let out a loud burp. “Whatchoo waitin’ for?”
Avery smiled. “Oh. You hadn’t really said yes yet or anything.”
“If you stiff me, I am gonna beat yo’ ass,” Garrett said. He lit a cigarette.
The homeless man, a portly older white man with a tangled beard, croaked. “Hey, man, can I get a smoke?”
“Nah.” Garrett sneered at him. “You gonna watch this white man jerk me off?”
The homeless guy looked disgusted, but he picked up his bottle of whiskey, then looked at the road as though guessing how difficult it would be to stagger into a different alley. He shrugged. “Whatever. Don’t… splash yer nut on me.”
“Ain’t makin’ no promises.” Garrett chuckled. He took a deep drag on his cigarette, while Avery lowered his shorts. The homeless man scooted further away.
That fat brown cock popped out, and Avery kissed it right on the tip. He put the piss-slit in his mouth and gurgled on it, then he planted his tongue and lips on it. He sucked on its surface, loudly and moistly, as Garrett watched with a mixture of arousal and shock. The taste was musty and warm, like the pawnshop but so much better, cuz it was stinky with the allure and funk of an overcrowded jail cell.
“Damn. You serious ‘bout swallowin’ cock, huh?” Garrett smiled. “Damn. I’m glad I ain’t just take yo’ two hundred bucks, fairyboy. I almost did that, y’know.”
His dick quickly perked up in Avery’s mouth, until it was as hard as the alleyway’s asphalt beneath Avery’s knees. He guzzled it deeply, his nose nestling in Garrett’s kinky, coarse pubic hair. Garrett groaned like he was shocked it felt this good, and his knees even buckled.
Garrett leaned back against the dumpster behind himself. One of his big meaty hands reached up to his own nipples, his pectoral muscles twitching beneath his own touch. He groaned.
“You do this a lot, fairyboy?” He asked. He wasn’t paying attention as Avery tried to say yes with his mouth full, but Garrett seemed to assume that’s what the answer was. “That’s nasty. I know that. I don’t judge ya. That’s for God. I know that. I was raised Christian, ya know. Yeah, keep swallowin’, White Man, right there, that spot-” He pointed to a veiny area on the upper side of his shaft.
Avery pounced on the spot he pointed at, slurping on it like he wanted to suck that spot right off. He produced copious spit, letting his mouth fill with Garrett’s precum, which was oozing out now. It was thick and creamy, and it ran in rivulets down Avery’s chin. Then he opened his mouth and gargled a mouthload of precum for Garrett, who groaned and looked away.
“Damn, White Man, that was nasty. You serious about this nasty shit? You kneeling down here behind a dumpster like some crackwhore. You know that? You as nasty as a crackwhore now, but worse since you payin’, not gettin’ paid,” Garrett said with another groan. He took a deep drag off his cigarette.
“I love being nasty,” Avery said as he flopped Garrett’s cock all over his face. He smeared precum everywhere.
The homeless man chuckled a few feet away, still aiming his face towards the street so he didn’t have to see it. He snuck glances every few seconds.
“I see that. Yo’ mama don’t know what you do, right? Neither do my mama. She don’t understand what it’s like for a nigga, ya know? I mean she a nigga too, course, but she different. She from a different era, ya know?” He sounded a little nervous now, like his rambling was an attempt to cover up his insecurity.
“Will you ram my face?”
“What?”
“Treat my throat like your pussy. Please?”
He laughed and smoked his cigarette. He sighed like this was a major imposition. “Gimme that two hunnerd bucks.”
“I gave it to the man for the chains-“
“Shut the fuck up, I know you got mo. Gimme two hunnerd dollahs!” Avery rolled his eyes, but he took out his wallet. He always made sure to keep an extra two hundred dollars in his wallet, with more money hidden elsewhere on his body — he enjoyed rough trade, so he had been mugged in the midst of his post-orgasmic pleasure on several occasions. He passed Garrett the two hundred dollars. He counted it and tucked it away in the shorts around his ankles.
Garrett grumbled to himself as he bent his knees. He grabbed Avery by the hair and forced his head into position. Thick gobs of spit dripped off his cockshaft.
“Damn, whiteman, I ain’t never seen someone want dick like this,” he said as he bucked his hips. He grunted as his dick slid down Avery’s throat, ignoring Avery’s resistance. His cock throbbed through Avery’s gagging and sputtering.
The homeless man whistled his appreciation for Avery’s deep-throating, as a few tears of suffocation rolled down Avery’s cheeks. Garrett stopped talking long enough to groan again.
“Kneeling behind a dumpster to get throated down is nasty, any way you slice it,” Garrett said. “You was right I ain’t have a jail-wife this weekend. I did when I was in lockup a few months ago though. You should-a seen me then, man, I was hardcore. It would-a been poetry to watch, man, I bet you’d cum just watchin’. Guards was applaudin’ me an’ shit.” Then his entire body shook as a fresh torrent of precum flowed down Avery’s throat. Garrett bit his lip. He pulled away. “White Man, you want me in yo’ ass?”
“Yes. Please. Please.” Avery begged as he gasped for air. He rubbed his nose on Garrett’s cockshaft, which twitched, exquisitely sensitive; Avery could feel the orgasm gathering steam beneath Garrett’s flesh.
“Gimme more money, White Man,” he said. He tucked his erect dick back away in his shorts. He winced at the pain in his pre-arrest injuries and wrinkled his nose. He sighed. Avery got the impression he was about to blow his load and needed a break so he didn’t go off too early — asking for more money was both greed and desire to slow himself down. He scowled at Avery.
“I don’t have any more cash.” That wasn’t quite true, but Avery didn’t want to give up the last of his money. Besides, he was sure Garrett wouldn’t blue-ball himself — this was just a negotiation tactic, even if it was working since Avery didn’t want to delay. Garrett’s rock-hard dick pulsated beneath the threadbare fabric of his basketball shorts.
“You got a credit card? Come on,” Garrett said. “Crawl. You wanna be my bitch? You crawl. My bitches don’t walk.”
Garrett guffawed as Avery crawled on his knees through the trashy alley. He followed Garrett back into the pawnshop, eyes trained directly on Garrett’s meaty asscheeks. He wanted to taste them so bad.
“You again? You made me lose my religion last time, Garrett-” the old man said when they came in. He saw Avery on the floor and grumbled. “What’s this?”
“Bring out yo’ credit card, bitch,” Garrett said with a big grin on his face. Avery did as he was told. He put his credit card on the counter — he had to stretch since he was still on his knees — and then dove his face into Garrett’s crotch. He licked his dick through his shorts. Garrett groaned and pushed his head away.
“What’re you two doin’?”
“Just gimme that gold bracelet, old man,” Garrett said. “And gimme that other chain there, with the dollar bill sign on it. What is that?”
“Yes. It’s platinum. Three hundred bucks,” said the old man.
“Yeah, fine. I gonna look fly in that shit,” Garrett said. He put the new chain and the old one on. They clanged over the nine chains he already wore.
The old man swore under his breath. “I don’t even wanna know what’s goin’ on here. This shit is sick, Garrett. You need to go to church. I shouldn’t even let you in here, cuz you shirtless. No shoes, no shirt, no service.”
Garrett gave Avery back his credit card. He sneered. “Fuck you, old nigga.”
“Don’t you use that word!”
Garrett smiled obnoxiously as he walked out. In the sun, he picked up his new platinum chain to see how it twinkled in the light. Avery followed him on his knees, back into the alley again. That homeless man waited for them and sighed when he saw them return.
“Drop your pants and stick your ass in the air,” Garrett said. He wrinkled his nose when Avery did it. He touched Avery’s asscheek, then pulled his hand away. He took a deep breath and did it again. He spread Avery’s cheeks.
“Please ram me. Ramrod me so good. Please…”
Then he took his cock out. Garrett sighed and rolled his eyes like he couldn’t believe he had talked himself into doing this. He slammed the tip of his cock in. “Hey, can you sound like a girl?”
With just the tip of his cock in Avery’s ass, all Avery could do was writhe and grunt out, “what?”
“I mean.. Make a sound like a girl. Talk like a girl,” he said.
Avery gritted his teeth. A bit more of Garrett’s cock slid into him. Avery threw his head back and groaned. Garrett repeated the command, so Avery tried his best. He let out a feminine squeal.
“Nah, talk like a girl. You got a high-pitched voice?”
“No. This… is my only voice,” Avery said through clenched teeth. The last of Garrett’s cock slid into him.
“Damn. You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, well groan some, but like a girl, like that squeal you was doin’, don’t say nothin’ though,” Garrett said. He began to ram hard, his balls slapping against Avery’s thighs and his lower ass.
Garrett pulled a cell phone out of his shorts pocket. He dialed as his dick drilled deep into Avery’s ass. Intense shivers of pleasure wracked Avery’s body.
“Yo, nigga, wuddup. Yeah, I got outta lockup. Nah, no big deal. That cop beat me down. I gots a court date,” Garrett said. He laughed. “I’s fuckin’, nigga. Tol’ you. That bitch, you know the one — the one with the phat ass, work in the jail processin’ niggas — Nah, nigga. Nah, man, quit playin’.” He clicked his tongue against his teeth. “She took one look at my meat when I was bein’ processed, and she say she gonna meet me at the gate when I get out. I be like, ‘whatever, bitch, bring cash’ and she brung it. I say I ram you for two hundred bucks and she do it right then. Quit laughin’, nigga. Course she won’t admit it, jail don’t let her mess wit’ niggas, you know that. She lose her job if she tell anyone. Shut yo’ — quit laughin’, nigga. Quit laughin’. You wanna hear her?” He held the phone down near his dick. Avery let out the most feminine squeal he could. He even managed to make it sound like he was trying to say fuck me harder but was too overwhelmed to enunciate. Garrett growled. “That was her. Weren’t no crackwhore, nigga, shut up. Fuck you. Yeah. Fine. Nigga, why you ask that? You know I’m gonna get drug-tested. I can’t come blow a blunt wit’ you. Okay then, you wanna hear me fuck this female?” Garrett put the phone down on Avery’s ass.
The sound of Garrett’s friend laughing and complaining filled the air. It was tinny and low, too low for Avery to understand the words. He was exhausted by the rigor of getting it deep by Garrett’s foot-long dick, and Avery had to lower his head until he was nearly resting on the trash-covered ground.
“Nah, I ain’t hangin’ up, nigga? You hear that? That’s my cock sliding into this female’s phat ass! She likes it, nigga. She loves it. Next time I get locked up, she gonna be sliding up and down on my meat!” Garrett paused. He groaned. “Keep listenin’, nigga! Gonna nut now! Listen up!”
As the first drops of cum sprayed in Avery’s ass, he groaned, unable to prevent himself from sounding like a man. He spurted his own load onto the ground, while Garrett’s cock flooded his ass with hot, creamy cum.
It flowed into him and dripped down his thighs. Garrett grunted and bit his lip. He rammed even harder now, making a loud, moist mess that dripped down Avery’s cheeks. It probably sounded intensely gross over the phone, Avery thought.
But when it was over, Garrett picked up his phone and scoffed. “Nigga hung up. Fuck him.” He sighed and shifted his hips around, moving his dick over Avery’s prostate and making him squirm and clench.
“Thank you, that was amazing,” Avery said breathlessly.
Garrett grunted. “I know. You ain’t gotta say it,” he said.
He grabbed Avery’s wallet out of his pants, his limpening dick still in Avery’s ass. He groaned again, last vestiges of his orgasm still wracking his body even as Garrett began robbing Avery. He took out the credit card from his wallet. “I’m gonna take yo’ card, White Man. And I’m takin’ yo’ cell phone too, so you can’t cancel the card right away. Don’t worry, I just use yo’ card to buy a double-two at Hoppumslaw and some birthday presents for my daughter. Got it?”
“Okay.”
“Good. Now I’m gonna hit ya. Not real hard, I just gotto,” he said. “You like that?”
“Yeah.” The pain, and pleasure, in Avery’s ass had grown excruciating since the ramrodding was over, and now he just wanted Garrett to go at it once more. He didn’t even care if his dick got hard or not, a limp dick would still stimulate Avery’s craving prostate.
Then Garrett smacked the back of Avery’s head. It was just hard enough to hurt, and it made Avery tense up. He clenched on Garrett’s dick, sending one last wave of post-orgasmic pleasure through Garrett’s hefty muscles. Garrett groaned and pulled out. He shoved Avery between the dumpster and the brick wall of the building.
He tucked his cock away and walked out of the alley. Avery could hear him walk right back into that pawnshop and resume arguing with the shopkeeper, presumably because Garrett wanted to sell the cell phone. Avery smiled.
He painstakingly sunk to the ground on his sore asscheeks. The homeless man was looking at him.
“You okay?” asked the homeless man.
“Yeah.”
He sniffled. “Good. You best get right wit’ God,” He took a deep swig from his bottle.
“Yeah. Thanks. I will.” Avery got up and walked away with a smile on his face.