'Now my potential brothas, ya'll wanna know a way to git in with me huh?' He sat his Red Sox cap on the desk tugging on his long braids. 'In order to git in, you got to git into me, aight? Yo pretty boy, you first.' Flex took off his jacket revealing a tattooed washboard stomach covered with the waistband of his boxers.
Money was shocked that Flex would ask for him first, especially since Courvy had the most between his thighs; not only that, he was always the one at the bottom. Nonetheless, he had a job to do, so he pulled his pants down while toying with his shaft.
Courvy was looking forward to seeing his man do someone else. Despite the fact he was the 'man' in this relationship, he'd always longed for Money to penetrate him.
'Yo dawg, have a seat in dat chair fam, watch yo boy work me.' Flex said while prepping himself for Money's entry.
Money used his own saliva to lube his dick. Although he was still nervous about what was going on, that didn't make him lose focus on the 'prize' they came for. Right then he pulled out the glass, keeping the engraved symbol hidden with the paper bag. 'Hey Flex, how's about giving us a taste of yo' milk my man since we all fags up in here.'
Money slipped on the condom after giving the glass to Courvy.
Again, Courvy was surprised that his man was taking charge of the situation but he liked seeing him this way. Not to be out done, 'Yeah Flex, why not give us some of dat, my brotha?'
Flex was intrigued that the two new recruits would want his jizz. Of course, his mind put up the question what for but that didn't deter him from wanting these two to have sex with him.
'Aight boys, I guess dat won't be no thang. Ya'll gon drink it or sumthin cause that shit would be hot dawgs.'
As soon as he mentioned drinking the liquid, both men gave each other the eye. Money was feeling that same anxiety he'd felt earlier. No way was he gulping this man's juice; he came to put it in that glass to take it back to Torrid. That minute, he felt he should have brought that gun they'd found in Torrids backyard a week ago. Now though there was no turning back, he was ready to slide into Flex to induce the juice they needed to get out of that place and back to Monarch headquarters.
Courvy chuckled putting the covered glass right by Flex's dick. 'Uh that wasn't wat we was thinkin' but maybe that ain't such a bad idea.' Courvy looked into Flex's eye while encasing his cock in his hand, pulling it towards him.
His partner, glared at Courvy. What could Courvy be thinking? If he had a plan, why wasn't he sharing it with him? Money decided to ignore Courvy's statement and start getting into Flex's hole as he wanted.
As Money slid into Flex, both let out a short gasp. Money was excited, he'd never felt something so good. Why hadn't he tried this with his man? Once he felt himself hitting the spot, he moved in and out while holding on to Flex's shoulders.
'Fuck!' Flex yelled as Money continued to penetrate him causing the head of his cock to glisten with pre cum. As Money rode him, he tugged at his dick roughly jerking the shaft.
Courvy reached out for Flex's cock admiring the size of it. Even though he couldn't understand why someone so well endowed would want to be a bottom, he wished that Money were behind him right now.
'Man, I bet dat shit feel good don't it?' Courvy licked his lips while pushing the glass closer to Flex's loaded cannon.
In his mind, both of them should drink a little bit then make up a quick excuse to leave. The sooner they could get back to Monarch territory the better, especially since he was really horny watching his man giving it to the rival gang king.
'Ohhh damn my man...I...uhh.' That moment, Flex's body started to tremble as the jizz shot out his dick.
Anticipating, Courvy held Flex's pole in hand watching the glass being filled with the juice. As soon as he felt it was enough, he took Flex's cock into his mouth taking every bit of what was left. Courvy sat there a minute savoring the taste of the salty sticky substance while looking at his man who was about to unload himself.
'Shit! Ahhh!' Money shouted as he pulled the latex off while choking his own meat. As he writhed, gasping for air, short strings of cum spurted on to Flex's backside. With glass in hand, Courvy, walked next to Money leaning over to lick the excess off his dick. 'Ahh...Courvy...dayum...' he muttered as Courvy engulfed his length completely.
Exhausted, Money rubbed his deflated cock while pulling up his boxers. Right then his mind was trying to come up with a way for him and Courvy to get out. The thoughts of Flex's legacy came to mind: the man is a known murderer at the age of twenty-three. Moreover, there is a guard outside that door. If they tried to get away, surely that man would catch them. Still thinking, he adjusted himself and sat in the chair by the desk.
'Dayum my brotha's. Ya'll sho know how ta make a down low fag like me happy ya know? Wat up tho...I thought you was gon sip it, why ya still holdin' it in the glass?' Flex reached for his pants, pulling them up to his thighs.
Money and Courvy didn't have an answer for Flex. What was their reason for not gulping it down?
At that point, Money had enough of this private party with Flex. Money rose up, took the glass in his hand, drinking half the jizz down in one gulp. With the bag still covering the bottom that showed there was a little left in there, he quickly stuck it in his pocket.
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