Loads and Tow

Author’s Note: Sorry for the long read in advance. At the very last minute, I opted not to break this upload up into chapters. Unlike other stories where I have no problem doing so, there’s really isn't a hard break of suspense to do so with this story. 

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 “You gonna let me melt in this bitch, aintcha, boy,” his voice whispered deep, raspy, and soulfully into my ear.

The perverse yet soothing rich combination of “bitch” and “boy” seemed to make me reluctantly weak and heatedly turned on all at the same time. He was my self-proclaimed top man, top daddy, therefore—as he so eloquently put it—I was conceived for the sole purpose of being his bottom boy.

As he dragged his big, hefty dick down the tail end of my sweat-slick crack, making his hard muscled body comfortable on my back, there was absolutely no doubt in my mind he was going to do everything in his almighty power to make me “sing” real pretty for him. And if I wasn’t before that night, he was destined to make me his bitch-in-waiting by morning.

I was nervous, of course, and scared and a bit jumpy. Because, with a foolishly drunken flare, I had presented a woefully skilled master with an unwrapped virgin rump roast eager to be plucked and pillage for his convenience. For reasons unknown, I thought this man to be most deserving of this gift. He was, in the truth, the essence of a real man, a man like me, or one I woke up each morning striving to be, one I desperately woke up needing to be.

As that big daddy dick raked itself down the lower part of my spine into the top of my virgin crack, sliding over my puckered hairy hole, I was hooked to the incredible sensation I denied myself for way too long. I had become everything I had told myself I was not. That I could not be or ever fathom, with spine-tingling, violent body tremors of ecstasy and an eerie sense of calm.

Shit, I was horny and ready.

My urgent need for him to be in me must’ve superseded his want to be in me. And after so many years of following my cream-stuffed dick into the deep trenches, I finally understood the eagerness and the willing surrender of every bottom I had ever fucked.

Yet, in my euphoric state of mind, my real intellect came back into my senses, reminding me that for this to work, I needed to be worked open, as I replayed the countless cries my ears have endured over the years.

Ouch, it hurts!

It won’t fucking go in!

Ow! Take it out of me!

Noooo!

Please! It feels like I’m being divided into twenty-two!

I could take the time to rewrite history, telling myself I was honestly a truly noble man and gave into every one of those blubbering requests with the hopes he would give into mine. But I didn’t—often believing I was put on this wide green earth for the comforts of my own aggressive needs. Sometimes, if it was more than just another piece of anonymous ass, I would treat it to a finger-fuck or a tongue-bath. If it wasn’t, oh well, they were just guilty of being in the company of a fucking jackass with a ridiculously big dick, ramming my piece of hard steel up any exposed piece of ass crack with no mercy or wanton concern for anything other than myself.

Please, please, oh fucking please! Don’t let me be just another piece of ass! I reasoned with him strongly in my head.

It was too late.

I felt the worthless son of a bitch behind me, balancing his study body on one hand while taking the other and guiding the budding head of that big bad prick over my wrinkled poop chute.

Please, I ain’t asking for much, you worthless fuck. Just something, anything that will make taking you inside of me a teensy-weensy bit easier.

My body jumped from the searing pain, feeling what felt like every fucking millimeter burrowing down into my tight sphincter.

Oh, no! Oh, fuck! Fuck you, man! Damn! No!

The pain was too excruciating, and my helpless body went completely rigid with my pulsating erection pinned down between my cramped legs, offering up the muffled screams my mouth just couldn’t seem to get out of the mattress.

“Relax, shit,” he said cowardly, making me tense up more than I thought I could. “I know you gave some lame chump some of this good tight ass before.”

Somehow telling this chump the truth now would sound like some sort of bad come-on line, like an invitation, so I said nothing. Giving it everything in my power to try to relax and give in to him.

As I quickly found out, patience wasn’t a virtue of his.

Instead, like an agitated lowbred, he pushed in with full unrelenting force, not giving two shits there was an actual human being attached at the end of his pulsing battering ram.

I wanted to cuss, but everything in my heart just stopped short of it.

Damn. For one, I knew if he was anything like me in his position he would be turned on, intoxicated by the power, and would level everything he had into me from here to now on, fine tuning the screams he could muster out of me. Secondly, I was quickly reminded of my countless victims, these that may or may not have enjoyed this.

“Ain’t use to having a real man on this broad back of yours, I see.” He whispered hot in my ear, with an evil laced in his tone. “I’ll be more than happy to change for you. It’s a long time since the last time I broke in a fine saddle.”

I wanted to shake him off just then, off my back, out my mind, but the more he worked his way inside of me the less I wanted to resist all the pangs and angst of this all.

It had been a long time coming. I deserved the consequences of this.

I tried to relax, a little more than just giving in, feeling the waves of cool air starting to build up, riding through the airing crack of my bubble butt.

“Look at this damn jimmie, stretching and plunging that sweet bad ass. Ha!”

Then, like a psychotic break, my voice betrayed me, scornfully and soulfully in a murmur, “Get that ass!”

A hard slap came across my ass followed by the words, “Wake up, Sleeping Booty.”

I awoke, stirring from my lay on my hard naked stomach.

Damn! It was all a dream.

A simple yet complicated fantasy that was on the verge of coming true before this bastard pulled me away from that bastard.

His face often changed with the frequency of the seasons, yet he always remained the same in my dreams: tall, black, superb, and muscle-bound like a real macho man should be. His hue transcended across the earthen rainbow from the blackest of blue to the pastiest of pale albinos, the chocolate-dipped G.I. Joe to the burly caramel-colored football player ready to tackle to a biscuit-brown physique with muscles on top of bulging muscles.

He was ultimately a mature-looking reflection of me.

Masculine. Man.

“Wake up, Sleeping Booty,” crooned Calvin, my tall and dark roommate delivering another cold hard slap against my bare ass.

“That’s a motherfucking shame!” His friend Willie added, with his cute fair face but short malnourished body.  

“All that sculpted perfection, and he ain’t giving it up to a soul.”

“He better gets his ass up and get to work before he gets his ass handed to him.”

“I’m just saying,” Willie continued. “A brotha got needs, man!”

I felt his cold hand hovering over my warm ass.

“Don’t you dare motherfucker,” I grumbled, rolling out of bed, and sliding my size sixteen boats into my slippers.

“What?” Willie asked naively.

“I got dick, too.” I said shuffling my way to the bathroom across the hall. “Why don’t you offer to tend to it sometimes? Save me the trouble of getting up and taking a piss when all you had to do was open your mouth to wash the shit out.”

“Damn, Willie,” Calvin said. “Some motherfucker got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

“No,” I barked with the door wide open, pulling my dick through the slit of my boxers, taking a leak and a fart right in the heart of toilet water. “I got up to the wrong man riding my dick.”

“Aw, don’t tell me my man is still salty he has to act like a big boy?” Calvin mocked.

“Fuck you.” I snapped, throwing up my middle finger.

“That’s part of the reason we came in here.” Willie snapped back.

“What? You gonna let me and Cal run a train on that high-yella ass? It’s been a minute since I got into an old-fashioned Chattanooga choo-choo!” I laughed stuffing my dick back into my boxers, coming back across the hall to the bedroom.

“Fuck you, man,” Willie said testily.

“Nah, bitch, I’m trying to fuck your sweet ass.” I said in the doorway, as my twelve-incher rushed with blood down my leg. “Case and fucking point.”

“Nasty ass,” Willie said disgusted.

I knew that look all too often. It was a bit of jealousy for being blessed with so much of a plantain for a dick tied in with a feverous lust and an urgent worry about what it could do to a person after it was all crammed into them, or at least that was always the goal.

But being me, I responded with “only if that’s what you got? There’s a bathroom over there if you need to clean up—or out.”

Calvin wanted to laugh, but being that Willie was his boy and he had secretly told me that Willie was raped repeatedly by this big dick tyrant in a halfway house, he didn’t. Neither one of them said anything and just looked at me with their arms folded.

I had no response either.

I must admit though I was just a little salty at them for no real reason at all, other than for my own selfish faults. It was bad just waking up from a half-rested sleep. On top of that, waking up to the rigmarole of being harass from a dream I was finally getting into. But I was bitter, most of all, because at the tender age of thirty-five, I was for the first time in my life was an on-the-books employee.

Don’t get me wrong. I always worked. My dick and my demeanor were my first trade with my close second being a jack of all trades. The problem was, while I was smart enough to save my money from all the money and gifts I received from the men and women I messed around with along with always taking payment under the table, it pretty much left me without much of a paper trail. So, while I got all these safe deposit boxes with all this money, with close to three-fourths of a million dollars in total, I can’t do shit. I can’t open a bank account because the way the bank saw it, I never held down a job to justify the deposits, which could probably be seen as suspect. Most people worry about having enough credit or repairing bad credit. But because I never was indebted to anybody or needed anything from the system, I didn’t have credit whatsoever. And without credit, to the world I simply did not exist.

Back when I was younger, it was like dirt off my shoulders to get some rich sugar mama (or cougar they call them now) or some dick-crazed fag to get me what I wanted. If I wanted a car, they would lease it. If I wanted a condo, not only would they sign for it they would take care of all expenses including healthcare and whatever else. And even on the off-chance I had to come out of pocket for anything, I knew how to buy it at auction or tap into the black market.

The funniest thing was I wasn’t slipping in any shape or form. I was what the old folks said, “growing into my handsomeness.” I was eating right and exercising, giving my body that true diesel cut that made many of the professional bodybuilders envious. In fact, if I wanted to upgrade my game this was the perfect time.

As I began dancing into my thirties, I decided I wanted something of my own. Something I could buy free and clear, in my own name and in my own right, without the hassle of being questioned about the source of my income.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t as easy as it sounded. Even with my expertise and experience, in various fields, because I had a criminal record to my name, employers weren’t exactly clamoring over one another to offer me a job. But in order to do what I needed to do I had to get one that, even at a minimum, paid me legitimately.

I had nearly given up on my search when Calvin, my pre-opt transsexual girlfriend’s gay play cousin (I don’t make this shit up) slashed housemate shot me a line the Bishop Brothers was looking for a third permanent muscle man in their family-owned repo and tow business.

Although I had done everything under the sun from being a shade tree mechanic to a bouncer to a bookkeeper to a cameraman, the business of repossessions never crossed my path. Then it became instantly obviously it could have a totally legitimate side while offering an incredible itch that needed to be scratched in underworld possibilities.

I was fortunate enough to meet the Bishop Brothers “strict” requirements of being big, black, and intimidating just like them. Now when it came to working, I was never against the work, regardless of what I was doing. I may was against giving Uncle Sam his share of the cut, in the past, but hard work was definitely a word that was a good friend of mine. And boy, it should go without saying that work put a hurting on me in those first couple of weeks, putting in some fourteen hours plus of hard labor each day for minimum pay. Not to be confused with minimum wage but given all I was doing plus time and a half I should’ve been paid a hell of a lot more. It was so physically draining I spent every weekend sound asleep in bed, mildly reluctant to get up to go to work the following Monday.

“There you go, you look nice, son,” Willie complimented me on my standard-issued gray uniformed jumper. He thought by giving me an encouraging word from time to time would keep me motivated.

I had to tell myself that though he was trying to be funny, he was well intentioned, especially by the way he felt up on my diesel cut pecs as I fought hard against the urge to hang his sweet ass out of the second story window just for kicks.

It was five o’clock in the fucking morning and I was once again overwhelmed by sleep to say anything back or slap the shit out of him, so I just looked at him and flashed him a sardonic smile.

The Bishop Brothers had their rinky-dink little set up in the rough part of town. It wasn’t much. Rent was extremely cheap, and it was never really supposed to have been anything other than a place for them to keep their paperwork. My job was to report there first to get my hands on the fully comprehensive list of all the assignments that needed to be taken care of that day. This was regardless of the fact that most likely there were still dozens of jobs left over from the day before or the day before that that needed to be tended to as well.

I hated it all, the work but more specifically the neighborhood. It wasn’t like it was the safest place to be, but that time of morning wasn’t all that scary either. By the time I had to report to work, it was too late for the riff-rafts to do any harm without running the risk that the police might’ve came on their shift ready to change the world, and it was too early for the decent folks to make their appearances to complain. It didn’t help either the place sat right on the dividing line of gang territory. And it wasn’t so much about the reporting to office I had the beef with as much as it was the time I spent in the morning waiting on someone to open up the damn building, so I could get in. Leaving me out in the cold to look out at the neighborhood of doom and gloom, with no hope or prospect whatsoever of a better day with its short rundown high-rises and dilapidated warehouses.

It was the job of their secretary Maggie to be there early enough to bring me in from the cold, but it was usually Levi, one of the owners, coming in from his overnight shift that beat her to the punch.

He would just look at me every morning standing there cold, shake his head, pull out his key and let me in.

Levi was the elder of the two partnering brothers. He was a big man at six-foot-six, creeping shy of a lean three hundred pounds. He did something in the military way back when, and his body still thanked him for it handsomely at fifty. He could even still take off his shirt and wow most people half his age, showing off an impeccable six-pack and a nice broad chest with those old-fashioned arms that were molded out of hard manual labor. Not by working out at some prissy gym, though I would’ve been too surprised he did that, too. His face however was a different story. The best way I could describe it was he looked like he lived a hard life. Either that life lived him hard. He wasn’t much to look at in the face with his barely-there low crop cut of salt-and-pepper hair, which made him look about a good ten years older than he really was. He had one of those old-school Army sergeant rough-hard faces, equipped with the signature wisp of a haired upper lip with the exaggerated frown lines that ran from the bottom of his irritated bloodshot eyes to the top of his defined round chin. It was the kind of face that was waiting on you to screw up just so he could get the opportunity to jack you up.

Levi always came off to be as being the more responsible of the two brothers. Being that when he worked, he worked. He worked like a dog. Like his life depended on it. The downside to that, or to Levi rather, was that even though he was in business, owned a business, he was a far cry from being a businessman. At least, being a savvy one, at that. Because anybody with two eyes could see his business should have been much more profitable than he complained it was. And it wasn’t like he was so much of a control freak as he was paranoid. He was so worried about getting screwed over he failed to listen to any kind of reason, not even from his partners, which consisted of a third brother I never laid eyes on.

James, the younger brother by two years and the other partner, usually came in about a good five minutes after we did. No matter when we came in, early or late, it was always five minutes later. Right down to the very second. Because it always felt like he was watching us from afar somewhere counting. That was how uncanny his timing was. I remember that so well because he usually came in after I warmed up just enough to brew up a pot of coffee. Unlike Levi, James was quite handsome, and stood taller at six-eight. If I was to say Levi was a soft milk chocolate brown, I would have to say James was more of a sensual chocolate color with a splash of cream. He sort of put me into mind of a younger version of a man I knew long ago, from a sexual escapade near the crown of a bathhouse rooftop, except next to his brother, James’ bulk didn’t look quite as refined. Yet he was still in great shape, very well put together with his hard round muscled belly, but his frame looked more ballooned altogether; more puffed up like a bone crusher than anything else.

In a former life, James was a crooked cop with a second career as a sex-crazed womanizer. In spite of having a fox of a wife waiting on him at home, James loved talking about his many lines of pussy. It was funny listening to him to him talk about it, because he did so with the same fanaticism of that of a teenage boy about to get some for the very first time. It was even funnier the way his crotch bulged in those jumpers as he talked and tried hard not to grab his one-eyed brother. But the thing I like most about James was his ass. He had one of the most incredible asses I had ever seen. It was full and plump and muscled and stuffed tight in his jumpers, and I wanted to do everything in my power to set it free, so that I could eat it, lick it, and stick it to my heart’s content. I remembered thinking that if I really ever got into fucking some old ass (not like just going in for a nutt but somebody I could kick it with) that his ass would be the kind of ass I wanted presented to me. Young or old, it really didn’t matter, but it seemed like the older some men get the fuller their asses get too, like tree rings or something.  

And then, about a good twenty to thirty minutes later, Maggie, their secretary, would come in.

She came in apologizing for being so late again, for one reason or another, and Levi would get at her about it. He was stern but never serious with her, as it became apparent it was very much a part of their routine. She would sometimes break the usual humdrum, after rushing to get the computer on to give me what I needed, by complaining to me about her husband, her two kids, and the drama that unfolded the night before with one family member or another.

For a woman with such a traditional name, she had a ground-breaking beauty that sort of got lost in her ditzy demeanor. As I stood out in the cold sometimes, I could have been a thousand times more sympathetic if I felt she genuinely feared being harassed in such a dreadful neighborhood. I wouldn’t do that to any woman, particularly a pretty one like that. But Maggie was late for being late, and that was all there was to it. She knew full well she had job security on several fronts: She was the brothers’ niece through marriage by way of that other brother, and the only one they truly trusted to handle their paperwork. But her ace in the hole—the way it was told to me—was that she had brothers and other blood relatives on both sides of the proverbial gangland fence to ward off theft and tagging and any gang wars nearby, seeing that both sides had a common interest in her.

So between her and James, I got an earful every morning with my cup of coffee and donut. Levi was only so fortunate to hide in the back, where the kitchen was, waiting on the Verdict to come out. The Verdict was my job, or rather a list of jobs I needed to do that day, which heavily hinged on Levi parting with some of his hard-earned money for the day.

While their business was mainly repossessions, the Bishop Brothers got into everything under the sun and had a vehicle for every occasion. They had tow trucks for both cars and commercial-grade trucks. They had a straight-lined truck for moving, and a dump truck with a lift to haul junk. They even had a couple of junk vehicles, including an old passenger bus they never got around to using. And there was rumored to have been a big rig sleeper truck off-site somewhere. This ironically worked heavily in both of our favors. In a previous life, when I was dying of boredom as a kept gigolo, I came up with this weird personal challenge of obtaining a license in every class of driving. I could drive anything from a motorcycle to a paratransit bus to a tanker with placards.

Levi and I both preferred towing, which was pretty much what he did in the overnight hours. Unfortunately, the daytime hours didn’t afford that kind of luxury being that most people most likely were out driving their soon-to-be repossessed vehicles. That was unless we had enough jobs to warrant such a deal. And even that was a bit iffy depending on certain factors or whatever was more pressing coming down the pipe.

At any rate, the difference between towing and everything else was that if I had to do anything else, it pretty much meant I would have to hire somebody else to help me out.

Levi hated giving me money for a crew, which could easily run a few hundred dollars each day plus any additional fees and expenses.

After Maggie printed out James and I our list, we tallied the number of jobs we had to do. It could range from towing to outside contract repossessions to eviction removal to foreclosure removal to hauling junk. Again, it was whatever came down the pipe. This worked out well in my favor because James like to get down and dirty with the hard stuff and was such a cheap bastard he tried to bypass paying for a crew by taking on everything himself. (Plus, I figured when he got dirty like that it gave him a reasonable excuse to drop in on one of his women.) Once we got that settled, who was going to do what, I mapped out my route for the day and handed Levi the verdict.

We were usually happy with the results at first, because it meant Levi got his way and I got mine. But then, somebody always threw a wrench in our beautiful plans. I mean, always. Since it was a family business, there was always somebody that wanted to come in for the day to earn some extra money. And it always seemed to be with somebody that James couldn’t work with because of some kind of prior falling out with. This often meant my plans had to change so they didn’t have to deal with one another, and that family member or friend could still break bread.

The worst of these offenders was Mack, Levi’s beastie boy of a son, who was always trying to score a quick payday.

Take everything I said to describe Levi, minus his moustache, make him about twenty-five years younger, age him about fifteen years to look about forty-something, miniaturize him to about six-one and there he was.

The hilarity behind Mack was he and James actually got along. The problem was they got along too well. Unlike his father Levi who was all about work, Mack was all about getting some pussy much like his uncle. He was always on the hunt for lady parts and was never shy about expressing his insatiable hunger for it. Scrapping up his earning to hire more prostitutes or to buy liquor to share with his lady friends to get them drunk enough to get them to bed. In short, it meant that James and Mack couldn’t work together because very little work would have ever gotten done.

Naturally, I liked Mack. We were close to the same age and had more in common with each other than with anybody else there. He wasn’t much to look at during a conversation, but he had that sort of on-point personality that made a person forget about his tough mug. He forever talked a good game worth of shit while we worked. Even to the point he made some days bearable and others worth looking forward to again.

He never showed it but he sort of gave me the vibe he got down. He was the type to defend he didn’t get “punked.” My suspicions were only confirmed one day after my he-she girlfriend Aja picked me up after worked and told me Mack and his boys used to jump her back in the day. Something treating her like a punching bag, other times strengthening a bond of brotherhood by jamming her in succession. Their gang roughing her up soon became an aphrodisiac that led him to pimp her out in the past.  

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“Stroke that bitch back on this dick.” I cajoled, holding my baby steady by the small of “her” back. Ever so often I had to give that phat Creole ass a hard smack and watch her wiggle it back against me, fighting hard to sink in every inch. “Stroke it back. Stroke it back, trick. There you go! Take this dick!”

I held on tighter to her sweaty skin, pumping harder and faster listening to her sing real pretty for me in a soulful melody of high squeals and low pants. I was melting even deeper into what was left of her pummeled walls, soaking further open to let me up in that, and trying hard to gobble it with the same bite as a tighter hole. I was her man. She was my good bitch. And I could tell that this bitch was as hot as a firecracker, that I’d brought her closer to the edge than I wanted to. I knew I had to up the ante before that hole showed me a thing or two, dead bolting around my dick.

I reached forward, cupped her by her neck with one hand slightly pulling her upright and grabbed her by the corner of her mouth with the other. I let her scream to the top of her mind. Letting the quiet house, the sleeping neighborhood getting an earful of what she was going through on the awful end of my twelve-inch poker she loved so much.

“C’mon, pussy bitch, don’t act like you’re a stranger to this dick now!” I said calmly pounding at her twitching hole for everything it was worth.

I listened to her do her and my low-hanging family jewels do them, sounding a relentless drumbeat that made for a sweet background noise against her foreground noise.

“That’s it, trick. There you go!”

I was riding that shit hard.

I was ready to either break that back in or blow that back out. So much so it almost afforded me the luxury of almost driving in balls deep. Of course, she fought back. It was already hard enough for her to recover from the amount of dick she had in her makeshift womb. But as her man, I had to let her know I was in control of this shit. When I got that she got it through her hardheaded skull, I threw her face back into the mattress before reaching forward to grab a sizeable chunk of her black and blond weave.

She screamed as I roughly pulled it back. Ever so often letting my vice grip go just enough so she could relax her neck—but just enough. I pulled and pulled harder and let go just enough to pull it again, sometimes harder than I should’ve just get the adrenaline another boost.

“Oh, Gawd!” She whimpered with her large tits knocking loudly together to her own little stump of a joint slinging back to tickle my nutt sac.

I did her like this for a long while.

She was letting me know how much of a bitch in heat she was and how much she loved this big ole man-dick digging out her stretched guts.

Aja got her fix, that was a given, and it would have been enough for me too if I wasn’t always aiming to be an overachiever in bed.

I was more than a big dick. I knew how to work my big dick.

I spun her onto her back, pounding her hard once again with my large hand around her delicate neck. She loved it this way the most. She loved looking at the disgust and the brute of man fucking her, nearly choking the life out of her pretty womanly body. Her hole got wetter, slicker. Her face almost flushed, and that hormone-shrunken dick of hers just oozing a puddle of pre-cum onto her stomach. She was almost to the point of blacking out. I clasped her dick and gave it a solid tug. My touch delivered her from her milk that splattered across her belly.

It was too much.

“Oh, got damn!” I rowdily growled. “Oh, shit!”

I let go of her neck, and pumped away to my content, only to watch her come to just in time to shudder from the white-hot load that blasted its way through her intestines.

“Ah, yeah,” I exhaled. “That’s what I’m talking about. Whoo!”

I caught my breath and let the pressure of what I let go ease me out of her flooded hole before collapsing on the bed next to the winded she-male.

I let her get her bearings before instructing her to get out there and fix me a club sandwich with those veggie sticks chips she got me hooked on. That order also wordlessly included a screwdriver (vodka and orange juice) to go with my breakfast.  

Hey, it wasn’t a traditional, but it was what I needed to keep up my stamina up for the day.

Work was hard, but home was even harder with all of its intricacies and stuff. We lived in a nice two-story house on a small lot in the rundown section of town. It wasn’t too bad of a place like it was where I worked. There was a strong sense of safety, but it didn’t always come with a strong sense of security, if that made any sense. The neighborhood was old enough to find comfort in stability. Yet, because so many of the younger generations were taking off where their parents left off, there wasn’t much in appreciating what they had, at least with some of them. Our street had its lonely drug house a few houses up the way and we occasionally heard a gunshot or two blaring in the nearby distance. But it was no big deal. Not to us. We figured it was what it was, or I did. The thing that constantly worked my nerve was that the other neighbors often fell in and out of favor with each other every few days, and constantly wanted to update the neighborhood of the status of their friendships. Even in the late-night hours. One day they would be outside laughing and joking and playing their music extremely loud. The next day or so later they were out in the street cussing each other out and divulging all their business, only to repeat the cycle again a day or two later.

If that wasn’t enough, I had to contend with the stuff that went on within our house with Aja, her play cousin Calvin, and the many rest of them.

The best way I could describe my relationship with Aja was that we were sort of like fuck buddies with marital benefits. Of course, I was her husband, and she wanted to be my wife. The tragedy was I wasn’t all that serious about us like that. The way she wanted to be. Then, I was at a place in my life where good food and good sex and the ability to keep a stable roof over my head were good enough. I was no longer trapped in the belief I was destined to commit my dick to just one hole for any serious amount of time. Aja was like most girls and gay boys in their early twenties: She was going to show me how good it was to have her as a girlfriend, as a possible wife, by catering to my every whim whenever I needed. But until I saw “the light” she was content with having me in her bed every night. And I saw no harm in treating her like a wifey.

The difference between the roles of a wife and a wifey is that a wife gets all the proper respect of one, with or without the paperwork. Whereas the wifey has first dibs on the dick but isn’t the only chick in the lineup.

That didn’t mean Aja held her breath out on me. Even though she was young, she had been around the block a few times to know the game. She knew that although it would have been nice if I stuck around and settled down, men like me usually didn’t. We had our fun and eventually moved on. Moreover, even though having a man was a priority, her top priority was going through with her sex change operation. And for that, she needed money. As awful as it may sound, since I wasn’t invested in having a relationship with her, I was even less invested in her to even offer to help pay for it with some of the money I had stashed away elsewhere. She was a smart enough girl not to ask, knowing I was too well put together to be as broke as I claimed I was. So she tricked on the sly, as an orphan this time, when she thought I wasn’t around. I guess she thought it was better than the alternative, of this sugar daddy that was willing to pay for the transition outright along with whatever else that was needed. The catch was she would be stuck to him. He was a good guy, from what I heard, had money to circle a few lifetimes. But I think she was repulsed at the idea of being stuck to a wealthy man that was just as big of a queen as she was.

I wasn’t crying over spilled milk with her extracurricular activities. Like I said, I didn’t really care. She was young and destined to young and foolish things. Besides, I was getting my extra paper, too. Old habits die hard. I was boning these two older broads from around the way along with getting with this drug dealer that had a mad hankering for sucking dick and was willing to blow through his fat knot (money) to get a taste of mine. Which, of course, was when I wasn’t too tired from work and shit to do anything with them. After I started my job though seeing any of them became far and few between.

Then, of course, there was Calvin, my friend and fellow top, with his revolving door of boy toys from down in the basement, and Willie, with his skinny ass, tried to keep up with whatever he could get a hold of anywhere. The other roommates, Aron and Tyrone, pretty much kept to themselves on the main floor and were hardly ever home.

Last but certainly not least was Cynthia, a drag queen Aja referred to as her “gay” mother, who dominated the basement with her lair of misfits and runaways. They were all young and queer and starting around the age of sixteen. Most however were like eighteen and nineteen and up, struggling to find their footing in the world and in the gay life. Since so many of them were broke, being minimum wage earners or college students or both, and I usually needed to build a crew, I thought I would be of help in hiring from the pick of the limp wrist litter.

Most of them weren’t interested in the money as much as it was about them hanging out with me, by chance, the star of their lust show.

It gave the queerest of them a ray of hope that if “Ms.” Aja could land a man like me, it was hope for the rest of them, too. Being so young and impatient, it didn’t leave much chance for them to go out and eventually find that special man on their own. They wanted me and weren’t ashamed to tell it to my face. I would be lying if I said those Rolodexes of innocent crushes didn’t stroke the ego just a bit. But some were just full-fledged obsessions that were even scary for a big man like me. 

In any case, those weren’t too squeamish about manual labor would jump to the front of the line to spend the entire day with me. They would work long enough to get my attention and then pose, trying hard not to sweat a drop in their attempt to still look as cute as they thought they did. It was comical at first before I realized I could’ve done a whole lot more on my own.

I had no interest in any of them. Not even the cute ones.

In my book, all of them were too young, even though the majority of them were of legal tender. Aside from the blatantly obvious, I knew I was packing too much dick for them to be playing with that early in the game regardless of the fact their freshly-driven hormones were telling them otherwise. Now that I was wise enough to know better and wasn’t solely driven by lust anymore, I knew that my dick was too large of a rarity to ruin some naïve young buck like that. For it to be an enjoyable experience for them, I mean. There were scores of other men that were destined to come along. And given that those biology books often said I was twice the average size, I said to myself that it was only right they have as much fun with those first and then come get at me in about five or ten years.

But that didn’t mean I gave up on hiring the boarders from the house. I was just more selective in the process. The only ones that really put their backs into their work were the young masculine studs that were providing sexual favors to whomever to keep a roof over their head. Still young enough to feel like sex was “nothing but a thing,” just good steady practice for later on down the road. Yet, I knew from experience that after a while that could grow tiresome enough to feel like a chore. Especially when there was a dependency factor involved and the other person knew how to take full advantage of it. Even, in spite of that, I also knew that living in a houseful of eccentric sissies henpecking about a whole bunch of nonsense could drive the sanest of macho men up the wall. So, for most of the hunks-in-training that were afraid that their ways were going to rub off of them, they had a deep itch for something that was going to tap into their cavemen instincts, needing to prove their self-worth through “manly” things of the non-sexual nature.

And then there was Willie.

▪        ▪        ▪

“It’s about fucking time,” Willie said, slamming the door of the company’s box truck with the excitement of a kid on Christmas morning written across his face.

Willie was one of those ex-cons that were fortunate enough to find employment shortly after being released from prison. His main job was part-time as a day laborer, with very short hours and very early in the morning detailing cars before auctions. Meanwhile, the rest of the time or the rest of the day rather, whenever I needed an extra man on my crew, I knew that I could always count on Willie to come through.

Willie was a damn good worker, very determined. He had that sort of old-school mentality to work. He believed wholeheartedly in making his hard-earned money whenever he could and of course had a strong work ethic to boot. I didn’t always call on him, though. Unlike some of other folks in the house that were penniless, he did have somewhat of a stable income coming in. I really tried hard to give everyone a chance to earn a little something-something. Some took graciously. Others, for whatever reason, were allergic to the work, holding their breaths on someone to whisk in and offer them a high-paying job with no skills and full benefits.

Willie was always there ready with a smile. He just needed to know when I was coming through to pick him up. His handsome smile seemed to increase threefold after I put the money in his hand after a job or two or a full day’s work, and happily reminded me if I needed him again I knew where to find him.

Willie was about a good ten years younger than me, and going through with what I was going through to get into the system, I told him if he was serious about being counted I could put in a good word for him with the Bishop Brothers. It would not only mean more money for him, but in the same breath it spared the brothers from coming out of pocket so much with hiring and negotiating with different people all the time. Nevertheless, Willie was still young and in love with the idea of keeping a hundred percent on the dollar, blind to the cost. He was just like me, thought he had plenty of time before he became an “old man” to get put in. I wasn’t old, but dammit did time fly! As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t get mad at him for following my mistakes. I warned him at least. That was all I could do. It was more than anybody did for me.

On that particular day I picked up Willie from the house, I also had one of the young new studs from the basement with me in the truck. We went about the business of going place to place, setting stuff out of apartments and houses, picking over what we could, and doing it again. Before long, ten hours had passed, and we got most things on the list done and I was ready to call it an early day. Usually being the good guy that I am, I would treat my crew (those that stayed with me most of the day) to dinner at some sit-down buffet-style restaurant, taking the liberty of paying them after I paid the check.

I didn’t even get a chance to do that before the kid, the third wheel of our crew, got his food and took off into the sunset without cause, concern, or with his hard-earned money. I tried to call him back to at least give him that, knowing it wasn’t above most drug addicts and some other head cases to see the tangibles immediately in front of them and walk off. It wasn’t common, but it wasn’t that uncommon either. Going from something quite laughable in the beginning to something quite sad overtime.

Since Willie was the only one I had to worry about getting back home now, I decided to take him back to the office with me. I wasn’t about to drive all the way across town just to drop him off at home and then come back to drop off the truck just to go back home. I didn’t think too much of it, and because it was something I did a few times out of the week I knew it wasn’t that big of a deal. But as soon as I stepped into the office with Willie by my side, I instantly felt this tension that oozed between him, James and Mack, who were standing around the coffee pot flapping their gums, more than likely talking about their favorite subject p-u-s-s-y.

I didn’t know what to make of it at first, the tension. So I treaded lightly, stepping around whatever it was between the three of them like it was a minefield. I excused myself to make a quick run upstairs to where Levi kept a makeshift apartment. Levi was still somewhat paranoid about me. Not because of my record, but because I was still relatively new and I wasn’t any sort of kin to him. And I was working harder than ever to win his trust by delivering any extra money he gave me earlier in the day back.

It wasn’t that I was all that greatly honest. In a younger life, I would’ve gladly kept every dime, making up some bogus excuse for needing to spend every penny. For me, though, it wasn’t even about the money. Like I said before, I was good on that end. I just knew that in order for me to have more peace at the job, while I was there, I needed him to give me some leeway in the trust department. It was already a hard job, and I knew from personal experience it was only going to get a bit easier once he gave in about an inch. The first inch is always the hardest.

I got to the top of the stairs, and just before I got ready to knock on the door, I heard the cot in his room squeak. It wasn’t like one or two squeaks like somebody was on or in the bed. It was a lot more to it. Yet, it wasn’t enough for me to suspect there was someone else in there with him. Levi was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a cheat like his brother. He knew where his bread was buttered with his wife of thirty-some-odd years, which I think was the reason he worked so hard. It was one thing to provide. It was a whole ‘nother season to run himself ragged like he did. He didn’t have much going on in the face. Meaning, he wasn’t much to look at. In his defense, I was quite sure he made his wife very happy every time he took off his shirt and showed off his mature chiseled frame that made even my mouth water. And I couldn’t see it hurting he remained gainful employed throughout their years of matrimony.

The bed squeaked louder and louder, and then stopped. Levi took a deep sigh of relief. The way it sounded through the door I knew he wasn’t having sex with anybody else, mainly because of the video still playing in the background with the people shouting to orgasm. I waited for a minute, slowly treading softly down the stairs and quickly running hard up them, knocking on the door.

“Who is it?” Levi asked in his hoarse drill sergeant voice.

“Me.” I said calmly.

“Hold on a minute.”

I did. He came to the door a second later with his shirt off in his boxer brief sporting a fine-looking basket accompanied by the whiff a musty dick.

“What you need, son?” He said less agitated than usual.

“I came up to give you this.” I said, showing him seven twenty-dollar bills in a nice crisp fold.

He grunted, took it, and closed the door.

I made my way back down the stairs not knowing what to expect to find when I got down there. It seemed that everybody was exactly where I left them, but not in a good way. It was almost as if James and Mack were waiting on Willie to make one false move before he gave them permission to attack. Not all that concern about it anyway since it didn’t really have anything to do with me, I escorted Willie out of the building and into my truck.

As we safely retreated home, Willie kept on asking me did I work with them. He kept on asking and asking as if my answer was suddenly going to change, as if his eyes were deceiving him, he couldn’t see for himself we all had on the same uniform. I tried to get inside of his head, to see where it was or was going, but he kept shutting me out. He didn’t want to talk about it.

The next day I showed up at work to find the building already opened. This was a huge surprise given that every morning since I began working there, I had to spend the greater part of my morning standing in front of it instead of in it—even days I thought I was showing up later so I didn’t have to. I was flabbergasted when I found James there alone brewing up a pot of coffee.

“Hey, what’s goin’ on brothaman?” He asked in his engine-rattling voice, pouring coffee in mug.

“Nothing much,” I said. “What got you here this early in the mornin’?”

“I work here.” He said in a teasing tone.

“For real,” I giggled at his humorous expression.

“Early morning with one of my bitches,” he smiled handing my cup off. “We got goin’ about an hour ago, and it was a split between goin’ to sleep and coming in late listening to my blood whine about me being more responsible. Like those two years he got over me make that much of a freakin’ difference! You know how it goes?”

“Nah,” I grinned. “I’m usually out in front waiting on him.”

“Nah, nah,” he shook his head stuffing his mouth with a breakfast sandwich. “I ain’t talkin’ about Levi. I’m talkin’ about that good pussy that put a brothaman to sleep after getting that nutt-nutt. You know what I’m sayin’?”

“Oh, oh, yeah, no doubt,” I said. “You got to be more clearer when you speak with your mouth full like that.”

“That’s what she said.” He laughed.

“What?” I said, missing what he said.

“It’s from some corny-ass show I was watchin’ last night. It’ll take forever to explain that bitch.”

“Okay,” I agreed.

“If you knew the joke you would understand,” he said still rolling with laughter about it.

“Okay,” I reiterated.

I took a sip from my mug and reached for a newly bought package of store-bought donuts. I thought about what I could have said to make him erupt with laughter with his response. I got the joke then. I just chalked it up to being too early in the morning to be doing that kind of perverse thinking, so I didn’t let on.

“That white boy was right. That shit works. I got to try it with better lines so it’ll work better.” He said more to himself than to me with his laughter quickly fading away.

If this was him opening up the building, I thought. Then the cold wasn’t all that bad. He wouldn’t have been such a pain if he hadn’t been there so early, so different than usual. And because we were the only two there it wasn’t like I could make a break elsewhere without it coming off as being ugly. James had enough people on his bad list with family and friends and I didn’t wanted to be added to that massive club being that without Levi it was just me and him.

After he got his laugh in, all that remained was a smile and he kept it on me. It wasn’t the kind of smile that didn’t just happen. It had some serious thought behind it, and about a thousand wheels were churning in his head.

“Spill it.” I said with the anxiety getting next to me.

“I noticed that you don’t talk about pussy like we do. Ain’t getting none? Or is that knobber you brought around here yesterday giving you all that you can handle?”

“Huh? Oh, hell naw,” I said in disgust. It was all part of an act, the down low act, and if I do say so myself a very good one. Look, it wasn’t like I wasn’t proud of the same-gender loving man that I was. I just knew where I was. It wasn’t like I could say to him or anyone else that asked me in that neighborhood to accept me and get over it. No. Oh, hell no. And I wasn’t so much worry about my job or staying in the system as much as I was worried about word getting around. It wasn’t the people inside I was worried about either. It was people on the outside. Men got killed just by looking at someone the wrong way around there. We were in the heart of gang territory, and if word got around that I was still a “pile driver” out of the prison system, neither gang would hesitate to cut off my dick and feed it to me like they did in Dead Presidents. “He’s just a roommate that needed to make some extra dough. What do you think is going on?”

“Your boy didn’t say anything?”

“Nope,” I said truthfully. “You know anything?”

“Hey, I don’t know much. I just heard that your boy got a little sugar in his tank. I don’t know if you caught what was going on yesterday, but apparently my nephew had to get your boy straighten out a few years back for trying to look at his dick.”

My instinct was to laugh, but I thought it could be dangerous since he might not have known that his beloved nephew was a booty bandit as well.

I played it cool. “I don’t know nothing about that. He knows I worked here and knew we put a crew together to work from time to time. He was just with me to earn some dough, and since we were closer this way I didn’t think much of it.”

“Cool,” he agreed. “Just watch your back around punks like that.”

“No need,” I laughed. “Most of those kinds of clowns like their shit packed in.”

He laughed, breaking some of the building tension in the room.

“I remember that from my time in ‘college.’” I said hiding behind code.

I told Levi about my checkered past, but I wasn’t sure if he told his brother.

“I’m glad you said something,” James said seriously. “I know about you. That’s part of the reason why I came in early to see you. My son, see, got into some trouble way back. The lawyer said it ain’t no way he goin’ to get off easy, and I was wonderin’ if there was something he could do so he didn’t get took…punked?”

Unfortunately, it was the most secretive question that most people asked me when they or somebody they knew were about to head to the penitentiary. It was also the question that made me swell with guilty because I was one of the fortunate handfuls of convicts that was spared the tradition of inmate “initiation”. It was something I was relieved about personally, but at the same time, it was something I couldn’t tell anybody. For one, most ex-cons weren’t that lucky to tell my story. And two, most civilians might interpret it as a cover-up for something that happened. And being that I wasn’t above climbing on a few backs to do some initiations of my own, it started to weigh on my conscious—just a bit (but we were in prison)—the friends and family that genuinely worried about guys like me.

“Well, I’m not going to lie. It does happen more often than most people would like to think. But it doesn’t happen as much as movies and television would like you to believe, either,” I assured him through lying. “Most people think it is limited to the lames, the loners, the runts, and the young bucks getting the short end of the stick. The truth is most prisoners are mostly likely gunning to flip them through calculated means. Make them their bitch. So, it won’t go down unless he wants it too. That goes for folks that are too big or too small, too. They maybe an obvious target but they can ward off advances before it gets too deep.

“The thing is if he goes in there thinking for a second that he will be hemmed up, he already lost the battle because somebody is going to sniff it out and make his nightmares come true. That is if he’s not gang related. I was spared the fire because I once ran with a petty street gang from back in the day that became affiliated with a national gang.”

“So you’re a gang banger?” James asked with raised eyebrows.

“Behind bars, by association,” I said, “considering that me and my old childhood crew were still relatively tight, and I hadn’t switched over or betrayed them. As for participating in anything like the stuff that goes on out here, never that. We used to do some regular around-the-way shit like snatch purses and swipe stuff from the local convenient store, but nothing like the wild shit these kats out here are doing!”

James took in my words. He wanted to say something else, but Maggie came in through the door, and mouthed that “we’ll talk about it later.” As soon as he disappeared, Levi came in and told me to follow him upstairs. He never did that, and my stomach was constantly dropping thinking I had done something wrong.

“You know why I called you up here?” Levi asked with his back turned to me fumbling with something near the window.

“No, sir,” I said.

“Yesterday, I sent you out to work and you came back with most of your shit done.” He said turning around.

“Okay,” I said, thinking all the while that that was my job but not knowing what else to say.

“I sent my numbskull of a brother out and he got nothing done.” He paused.

I finally asked, “You sure you meant to call me up here, sir?”

“Sure I’m sure.”

“I’m not following, sir. Did you need my help with something?”

“Exactly,” he smiled. “I knew you were a bright kid. I called you up here because I need you to do with James what you do with Mack. I need your help in coming up with a way to do without it coming off that he needs a babysitter.”

“Sir, with all do respect, your brother is a grown-ass man. I don’t think he’s going to take too kindly to some stranger holding his hand—even on the sly.”

“That’s why it got to look like you ain’t,” he said, pulling out a thick wad of money. “I’m willing to pay you for your time.”

“But, sir,” I defended. “It ain’t about the money.”

“I know. This is everything you’ve ever given me back from the time you’ve started working here. Why did you do it?”

“Honestly, to be honest, sir,” I said. “I mean I know too many people aren’t running to give men like me a chance to because I got a record, thinking I’m still my past. I figured what a better way to show my appreciation for this job other than by doing my job the best I can and doing right by you and your business.”

“You know what that’s called?”

“Yeah, integrity,” I said.

“My point exactly,” he said coming in closer, with his smile somehow smoothing out the hard edges of his face. “You may not have always had it or may have lost it along the way, but you as an ex-con got it back. My brother went to the police academy and stayed on the police force for about twenty-five years, retired, and never knew what it was. He started out crooked and left crooked.”

“If that’s the case, it isn’t much I can do about that.”

“I know. But you can kind of keep him focus like you do my son.”

“Sir,” I laughed. “Mack and I are sort of peers. I’m older than him so he looks up to me. I don’t think James is going to do the same with me. You know?”

Levi looked at me sort of disappointed. It was obvious to him I didn’t want to do it. It was hard on me to get Mack to stay focus, I wasn’t about to do it again with another one of his family members. “I understand.”

“Maybe it’ll get better once he finishes his thing with his son.”

“His son?” Levi asked surprised, thinking he might have been taken aback that James and I where close enough to talk about his son.

“Yeah,” I said. “He was telling me before you came in, he was worried about his son being sent up the creek. He came in early wanting to know what I could tell him to tell his son about what to do when he got inside.”

Levi just froze, scanning my face.

“You’re sure you heard that right, son?”

“Absolutely,” I said without a doubt. “I always heard about your sons and that other brother’s son, but I never heard about his son or sons.”

“That’s because James doesn’t have a son, son.”

“Huh?”

“James doesn’t have a son. In fact, in all his messing around I’m amazed he hadn’t had some woman pinning a child or child support on him. I just well enough assumed his plumbing wasn’t right down there. Our cousins and ‘em used to do a number on him back then.”

Levi went onto explain the reason why James didn’t get along with most of the family that came into work was because they were usually the children of their first cousins whom he really couldn’t stand. Who were the children of their aunts and uncles that Levi and James were forced to stay with after their parents went their separate ways. “My cousins were some badass kids. They resented James and me when we were younger because we were more blessed when it came to the girls, if you know what I mean.” He said somberly. “James was a lot smaller then. He couldn’t defend himself like he can now. Not like I could.  He took a lot of hits to the balls because some easy girl was making a big to-do about our…uh, you know.”

I didn’t know what to make of it. James was telling me he was worried about a son that was imaginary. My boss, Levi, was finally coming around to trusting me but he wanted me to baby-sit his younger brother. Plus, he was laying a bit of their family history on me.

Levi talked me into riding out with James for the day. Although I wasn’t keen on babysitting him, I was still a subordinate and doing my job was still in the confines of my work. I didn’t bust him out on his lie and couldn’t figure out what he had to gain from lying to me. The only thing I could think of was it was somehow tied to Willie and the day before. How?

The day whizzed by like usual and I got back to the house just a couple of hours shy of midnight. The house was pretty much emptied out except for Calvin and Willie, who chose to stay behind after the rest of them headed out to some sort of thing. House? Ball? J-Set? Club? Something? And even Calvin wasn’t sticking around, making his way downstairs to the basement to see what college-aged scraps he could find to get into.

I was tired. It wasn’t the kind of tired that made me want to hit the hay. I wanted to do something. What that was exactly I hadn’t the foggiest of ideas. I thought about calling up my other pieces, but I then looked over at Willie aimlessly walking by. I wasn’t thinking about getting with him. Instead, I was more interested in asking him to join me at a nearby bar for a drink. He agreed, putting a smile on my face and the wheel in motion. It didn’t occur to me until after I asked that maybe I could get him tipsy enough to spill the beans about whatever led to the tension the day before. Unfortunately, we sat down in front of the television and never got up.

“They didn’t say when they would be back?” I looked over and asked, laying back deep into the couch.

“I doubt with as many of them together we won’t see them until about morning.”

“I thought they cut the club hours?”

“Here, but not out in the suburbs,” he said matter-of-factly. “And I wasn’t even figuring that in. I was thinking afterwards they might hit up some after-hours spot to hang out at or get something to eat or something. Why?”

“Lazy. I figured if Aja was coming through that door in a minute she could fix me something to eat.”

“There some chicken tenders in there.” He said.

“The key emphasis was she could fix me something to eat. But I guess I’ll have to do it in a minute.”

A sitcom rerun passed before I saw Willie get up off the sofa. I didn’t think much about it until he started shouting from the kitchen, “You want some French fries with that?”

“Hell, yeah, thanks man.”

“No problem,” he said opening the microwave.  “You made me kind of hungry talking about food.”

It ran for a couple of minutes, and he returned to the couch with a big plate of chicken tenders and French fries that looked like two mountains.

“Damn, kid,” I laughed. “I know I’m a big man. If I ate that much I would never wake up.”

“It ain’t all for you.” He smiled, gripping a fry and dipping it into this dish of ketchup before putting it in his mouth.

As I reached for a tender strip, Willie jumped off the sofa. I heard him tear a couple of sheets of paper towels off the roll. He came back into the living room, handed me off mine, and headed back into the kitchen.

“What’s your poison?” He shouted.

I knew he probably couldn’t mix a drink, my favorite being 150 proof and coke, so it was no point in asking.

“What you got in their beer, domestic beer, foreign beer, exotic beer, lemonade—

“Alcoholic?”

“Yeah, in pink, regular, and pomegranate,” he rattled off.

“Gimme the pomegranate, I need some fruit,” I laughed.

He came back into the living room with his beer and my alcoholic pomegranate, two each.

We drank and ate and talked. My mind was somewhere else when I felt his eyes look over at me.

When I looked he tried hard to pretend like he was looking at the television, taking his time to look a little more believable every time I glanced his way. But his deep, calculated breathing kept giving him away.

I knew the high-yella boy had a crush on me, though innocent, as far as I could see. It was practically a given that ex-cons that were fucked on a continuum had a tendency to be aroused by an intimidating size, an intimidating man. This was part of the reason why I never acted on it, thinking it probably wasn’t a real emotion as it was a real reaction, which was sort of hot too.

“What?” I asked, catching him unable to take his eyes off of me.

“Oh,” he said, shaken out of his trance. “I was wondering why you hadn’t come out of your uniform. Work is over and shit.”

“This was the first place I landed. It’s bothering you or something?”

“Naw,” he shook his head. “I just know if I got off of work, I would want to climb out of my clothes and get comfortable.”

“You would like that,” I joked. “Like my food, I told myself that I was going to jump into the shower in a minute. Wash away the day. I had no beef climbing out of this got-damn thing right now. I was just worry about your ass. The way you’re about to have an asthma attack over there with me in just this I could only imagine what your scrawny chest might do if I showed you my undershirt.”

“Shut up,” he said.

I teased him, slowly looking over at him unbuttoning and unzipping my jumper, showing off a sweat-sticky tee shirt and the top of some printed boxers.

“You okay over there?” I asked a moment later. I was feeling great the trapped heat from the day unhurriedly rolled from my body.

“Yeah, I’m fine, dude. Stop tripping.”

“You’re the one tripping over there. You like what you see?”

“No,” he said, turning his head in an entirely different direction.

“I know you’re lying. Ain’t nothing over there to look at. Besides, I know I got a nice body. It ain’t no harm in admiring it or even touching it for that matter. It ain’t like nothing is going to pop off up in here.”

“You sure?” He said, letting his disappointment show in his face.

“Damn right,” I said. “If I wanted your sweet ass I would’ve had it doggie-style a long time ago.”

“I know.” He paused. “You like those girlie boys. I ain’t about to go out like that.”

“I like anybody that’s on the end of my dick when it spits.” I laughed.

“Really?” He seemed surprised.

“No doubt,” I said. “I’m just with Aja because she knows how to take real good care of what I got. As for you, I know you got in some action somewhere but that’s because you’ve were turned out by some proper dude in the yard. If I was going to fuck you, I want to be the one doing it. Not that other man.”

I thought he was going to get angry. He was going to fly off the handle, but he calmly looked at my stomach, and told me that “you’re wrong. Shit happened in there, but I was never turned out. I just always loved a man’s physique, especially when it’s muscled up like yours. I can’t even lie.”

“So it ain’t about the dick?”

“Nah, not for me,” he smiled. “It’s the God’s honest truth.”

He confessed he was enamored with bodies like mine because he always wanted one. He studies bodybuilding and everything, going to get products that boasted to bulk him up. He cried that while he was fortunate enough to develop defined and functional muscles, his wiry frame still carried it off as he was just another skinny kid.

As he talked, I took off my shirt, showing him proudly everything he couldn’t be with my thick massive frame. He was so lost in his words he didn’t even know I had took his hand and placed it on my pierced nipple chest, moving it from tatted pec over to tatted pec. He was so nervous and scared he didn’t even know what was going on. The second he did, his hand started to shake and sweat a small creek. Once he saw that I was cool, he started rubbing on my cobblestone stomach like he was making three wishes. It took me a minute to realize he wasn’t rubbing my stomach as he was trying to give it a massage.

“Don’t leave that other hand out, man.” I said getting into the groove of it and the playing television.

He obliged.

The way he used both hands wasn’t the same way he used his one. Maybe it had to do with how he was sitting or something, I don’t know. I do know it was ticklish as hell. I tried not to laugh until there was a funny moment on the television. His hands were going back and forth, back and forth, sometimes giving some extra attention to my diesel cut chest.

It should have come as no surprise when one of his hands started etching towards the top of my boxers below. But the way Willie was focused solely on my muscle groups gave me absolutely no reason to think otherwise, given what he said, even though I took it with a grain of salt originally. That hand was taking two steps forward and one step back before it danced over my sleeping dick.

He said nothing, and neither did I waiting on him to slip that hand in the slit and start playing with it, which he never did.

“You already woke it up so you might as well.” I said, as his mouth magically found its way around my pierced nipple while tweaking the other.

“What if Aja comes back?”

“What if she comes back now? What am I going to say? Willie tripped and I thought it was best I breast fed him before bedtime. Besides, you don’t think you can take her? You’re going to let some transvestite whup your ass?”

“I was worried about you.” He said with his eyes smiling more than his mouth.

“Dick quiets the soul…and the lips.” I said. “You can get down there and suck it.”

“What about Calvin, man? He’s right downstairs?”

“He ain’t studying what’s going on. He’s getting ass like you should be getting on this dick.”

“Like I said, I ain’t about the dick as much as I’m about that body.”

“That ain’t what James said.” I said, meaning to say Mack where I said James.

“He told you?”

“Yeah,” I lied, feeling like I was opening a new chapter in this story. “He came in early just so he could spend the day telling me every filthy detail.”

“He just got in where he could fit in.” Willie said gravely.

It was deep the way he was talking, and I was too much in the mood to play psychologist next to my lust. I slid off the rest of my jumper and threw my arms behind the couch as he got in position between my widely spread legs. I waited patiently on him as he fished out the growing one-eyed monster from the slit of my boxers.

“What you going to do with it?” I asked calmly with him holding the tip end of the shaft. “What’re you waiting on?”

He hesitated. He wasn’t like most guys, though, intimidated by my size. He looked like he was savoring the moment, and with his mouth wide open it turned me on even more because I knew then this wasn’t going to be some rush job if we could help it.

“You’ve gotten that close. Stick your tongue out. Lick that pearl drop off the tip.” I said even calmer. 

He wrapped his hand around my thick piece of uncut meat and gradually started stroking it, egging me to pull my boxers down as well.

“Do the damn thing.” I coached, exhaling, getting lost in those smooth sensual strokes.

Willie jutted out his tongue. He took a hard lick at the exposed mushroom head. He teased the piss slit with his sandpaper of taste buds, and preceded to slowly started to draw me in, sucking me like a straw. He wasn’t quite sated until he had my dickhead pressed against the roof of his mouth. I tried to let him take it from there, let him find his groove, relax that throat of his. But my animal instinct was impatient, taking the back of his head and ever so graciously guiding it down so he could take more of me in his mouth.

“It was the God’s honest truth, huh?” I laughed, reminding him of what he said earlier.

He didn’t care. He was happy as a clam with his mouth full of dick, his heavy drool strolling down to my balls. I knew he wasn’t going to get it all down, just because of how big I was, but I was amazed how much he gobbled down given our position. Willie gave both Aja and the drug dealer a run for his money, the way his tongue was ripping around the shaft while I was grazing the back of his throat.

“Damn, son,” I mouthed. “They taught you well…whoever that was.”

He mumbled something. The next thing I knew he was giving my large ball a nice squeeze that for the first time in a long time sent a jolt through me. The second time he did it, the way he did, I thought I was going to skeet some nice cream into his mouth. I was fighting the feeling so hard I didn’t even feel his bony finger bump up and around my sweaty bunghole.

He took his time, proceeding with caution. He was trembling on the other end of me waiting for me to jump up and beat his ass. If I didn’t, he knew I was cool. What he didn’t know was that I was good. Though I never got fucked or finger fucked, I wasn’t above getting my hole eaten out. I got into it years earlier when I was dating this freak that had a thing for man-ass. She touched it, played with it, and even stuck her tongue up there to get a taste of the “scent”. And after I started seeing it in some selective heterosexual porn, I didn’t think much of it as taboo.

“You want to eat some ass, huh?”

He mumbled.

“Only if I get some ass from you next,” I said patiently. “You think you can handle what I got back there?”

He mumbled again.

“Good,” I said. “Work your way down to the balls, get that spot in between there, and go in for it.”

He obliged, meticulously taking every step I told him before I had my ass rolled up off the couch just enough so he could use his tongue right there.

“Lick that shit.” I commanded.

He parted my ass cheeks. I was expecting him to just dart his tongue in and out, but he didn’t. Instead, he kissed it, puckered up as if he was kissing somebody on the lips before deviling into French kissing. Much like my dick, he did it in a round circular motion that had me groaning and tugging at my dick.

“Damn that shit feels good! Damn that tongue.” I told him.

He picked up the tempo and started going at it. He was licking my asshole like he was he was going spoon-less in a yogurt cup, nothing but fast wet tongue. I was moaning and groaning against that tongue like it was best thing I felt next to busting a nutt.

I hated to admit I was being had, but he had me eating right in the palm of his hands. I wasn’t going to let him get away with it, though. With my dick in hand, I jerked it for dear life. I felt my balls retract, my licked hole twitch, and with my dick pointed, primed, and swollen I shot a nice pint of smoking hot cum straight up into the air, hitting the back of his head. I was sure I got some on the back of his neck and beyond.

I was sure that Willie knew something happened but wasn’t sure. He pulled his head from my ass. He looked around and saw that there was nobody around, I grabbed his head and shoved it back onto my crotch.  

“Clean your shit up.” I berated him.

He brought me down with the same skill and vigor that he did eating my ass, getting up in that slowly covering foreskin.

I just chucked it up to that talented tongue.

I got up, sprayed the room deodorizer, and hopped in a nice hot shower.

▪        ▪        ▪

After I got to bed, I thought about what Willie said. All the stuff I wasn’t paying attention to when I knew I could get him on my dick. The way he made it sound, he had more to do with James than he did with Mack. The more I thought about it the more it made sense. Mack was always mean-mugging somebody, so he probably wasn’t even a part of the equation to begin with.

I slept pretty well and got up invigorated. I went to work hoping catch James alone again and bluff him out of his story. Unfortunately, it turned into the same old same old, with the exception that Levi went out with James and I got stuck with Mack. That didn’t mean that I still couldn’t fish out any information. I was glad to know I was right though, and that Mack hadn’t a clue of who Willie was other than the dude that stepped in there with me. He did startle me in knowing that Aja was my girl and that I was her man. He seemed heavily disappointed that I alluded to the fact the relationship was a go-between for me.

The next day however I got a chance to work with James. I felt I had enough ammunition to call him out, given what I already knew. Yet, there was this subdued feeling that told me I needed to let everything play itself out. Let everything come to a head and reveal itself. The way went off without much fanfare, and it was about eleven o’clock at night before we pulled into this overnight dive for a late dinner. We sat down, got our drinks, ordered, and I headed off to the bathroom, not knowing he wasn’t far. I didn’t think anything of it. I had to go. He probably had to go, too. It didn’t become a problem until he stood in front of the urinal right next to me. This wasn’t working, I thought. Two big guys, wide guys like us, standing side by side like that left little maneuvering room for either of us to do our thing. Thinking that there should have been a third urinal he could’ve scooted over to use, I just happened to look over that way.

My ego was still freshly bruised from a few nights back, after being with Willie. I was feeling slightly embarrassed that the “Proud Top” I often boasted I was got off on a tongue playing in my ass. I had my ass eaten out plenty of times before. It was just in the realm of foreplay, never the main course. My ego felt like it was getting battered again when I looked over and saw it dangling over the toilet. I thought I had some ridiculously big dick. Once I saw his, I discovered I didn’t even know the meaning of the word. Whereas mine was a generous forearm, his was a baby elephant trunk.

Maybe it was childish, but I was feeling real pain in that instant. I always knew it was possible for a man to be bigger than I was. I just never came across any of them until then. I may not have always been the biggest guy in the room, but I took the world’s greatest confidence in having the biggest penis most people had ever seen outside of porn. But I could only imagine the jealously they might have if they knew something like that existed.

Before then, I never had an iota of an issue about my size. I showed off in the locker room, naturally thinking I was blessed in being height and weight proportionate to my dick that was long and thick. It was obvious James Bishop was too, standing there at six-eight. But still. It was sort of like a bad car accident about to happen. It was something that shouldn’t be seen, but if there is a front and center seat it’s something that can’t be missed, if you tried. It was so freakishly big it looked cartoonish, especially the spaceship-like head and the triple thick stream of piss that it emitted.

He snorted, snapping me back into my consciousness. I shook off the last bit of urine from the tip and started to put it back in my pants. I stopped shy of doing it. I had to take one more look. I don’t know why, but it was something I had to do.

“I’m starting to see why Willie wouldn’t talk.” I accidentally mumbled.

James looked over at me looking down at him.

“Don’t worry. I’ve gotten it all my life.” James chuckled.

“Me, too,” I laughed nervously, showing him mine.

“I take it that your boy told you how I split his sweet asshole with this thing?”

I shook my head. “He wouldn’t talk. I just knew that your nephew never even heard of him.”

“Yeah,” James smiled. “You ever got some of that throat?”

“Yeah,” I smiled which caused James to laugh.

“He’s got a nice one don’t he?”

“No doubt, no doubt,” I said emphasizing. “That tongue’s on point.”

“You got some of that ass, too?”

I shook my head again. “Throat was all I could handle. I felt like a sucker that came in his pants during a lap dance.”

“Try it when you get the chance. If you thought the throat was the shit, try the back end. He got some good ass. I don’t know about now, but he used to serve it up like a ho. He used to be my bitch at a boarding house I used to manage.”

 

So he was the infamous bully that Calvin was talking about, I thought.

“Everybody knows that tight ass and big dick is a lethal combination. He cried that folk raped him on the regular, which is why I ain’t doing that no more. Yeah, I took it, but I didn’t rape his fruity ass. That bitch stayed on his back with those legs spread and that hole on grease. I just slid right on in. Pow!” James continued, thrusting his hips forward with the tip nearly crashing into the urinal.

“That ain’t sliding man.” I defended. “That’s a wreck!”

He laughed, slapping me on my back and looking down at me.

“Shit. You probably right. The way I see it, it takes one to know one.”

“I don’t do too bad.” I said, grabbing at it.

“You got a nice piece man. Ain’t too many that can be a little brother to mine. You know what I’m saying?”

“Yeah,” I paused.

He looked at me and my dick and started going into a trance. I thought it was best not to say anything especially when I saw he was stroking his snake.

“Man, you done took me back thinkin’ about that good bitch. Want to help me rub one out right quick?”

“Here?”

“No, next year fool,” he said sarcastically.

“You crazy? Somebody might come in here and catch us.”

“Who? Ain’t nobody comin’ in here? And if they do, what they gonna do? You should know by now that nobody fuck with dudes our size.”

He was right. People thought a lot of stuff, but rarely say anything to the effect fearing that our intimidating size spoke more than any words or authority could.

“It ain’t nothin’ like jacking off with a buddy,” he encouraged.

I didn’t say a thing. I just turned in his direction and slapped my dick against his, not believing I was going to go through with this in a public restroom of a restaurant.

He grabbed his dick. I grabbed mine, listening to him tell me that we got to be quick with it since I was scared like a little punk. He was joking, but being the man I was I couldn’t let that go without a comeback. I let him know he was the punk wanting to me jack off with him so that he could take a good look at my dick. We got into some heavy shit talking before we eventually grew quiet and simply started stroking. My hand automatically moved up to my nipples as his moved underneath my nutt sac. I reciprocated putting a nice sinister smile on his face. I thought I would take it to the next level by forcing our dicks to kiss a wet and sloppy mess.

The heat of our dicks touching and him pulling hard at my other nipple drove me over the edge. I winced, sucked my teeth and shot into his pubes. I was in the middle of catching my breath when he leaned forward and kissed me. I pinched his nipples and tried kissing him around his neck, noticing that those extra five inches in height were easier on him than they were on me.

A few minutes later, his soft groan was the extent of what I heard before I felt something warm and wet hit my thigh through my jumper. I later found the rest of it sat on top of my right boot.

“Toldja,” he panted, tucking his dick back in his pants.

I hated to admit it, but he got me with that kiss. It wasn’t like it was lovey-dovey or a poor imitation or something like that. It was a sensual masculine kiss that was only meant for what we did, but rarely did it feel like that.

Like a dumbass, I was sort of expecting another one for the road, but he said, “Let’s get out of here. Our order is probably ready by now.”

He led and I followed him out.

We sat and ate and talked as if what happened in the bathroom never even went down.

▪        ▪        ▪

A couple of months passed by and James and I pretty much worked together almost every other day. He never mentioned a peep about that night, and neither did I. It was like if either one of us gave it too much thought we were putting more into it than it was. We would have been several sessions deep if we hadn’t fucked up by kissing each other, turning a hot wholesome jack off into something questionably more.

But I was still good, though. I was having a ton of sex on the regular with just about anybody I could get my hands on. Though, I was more partial to those that generously donated to my sexual drive. Now that I was in the system, building my credit and had opened a checking and saving account, I didn’t want to use my hard-earned money to party and bullshit. It was only logical I partied and bullshit with the extra I got from whomever. My renewed burst of energy came from the fact that my tension level had dropped considerably since my first day on the job. The job was still taxing and stressful as ever. The thing was, because it wasn’t as new and found my stride it made everything else a bit more digestible. Especially when I went from the bottom to the top, being I was the only one in the office that Levi actually trusted.

And it wasn’t it was weird between me and James either. Not that I knew of. He still talked a strong line of pussy, throwing in Willie and some of the other guys he knew from around the way that were known to mess around. He tried not to go too deep but gave me enough of a heads up so if I felt they were worth trying to pursue, I could pull their Ho Card if they started acting salty.

Then one Friday afternoon, James and I came back to the office super early to call it a day. It was the start of a three-day weekend, and we were planning on taking full advantage of it. Levi was gone because his wife had convinced him to take her out of town. And Maggie wasn’t around because she knew Levi wasn’t going to be around. So that just left me and James.

Although we were too lazy to continue to work, it was still too early for us to do anything else. We thought we were smart by stopping over at a local barbershop, hoping to kill some time. Even with getting our haircuts, shooting the shit with some of the other fellas there, and playing a few board games, we still had a ton of time on our hands. His problem was that most of his womenfolk were most likely at work or running errands. Much in the same spirit as some of my other fuck buddies. There wasn’t much for me to run home to either. While I was guaranteed an almost quiet and empty house, I wasn’t about to run the risk of some lonely lovesick teenager attempting to monopolize my precious time.

The best either of us could come up with was to sit around the kitchen table and talk. We always talked. There wasn’t really a workday that we didn’t. The thing was our conversations circled more around the superficial than the two of us getting to know one another as two grown men. I don’t think neither one of us were looking for a Golden Girls moment but seeing we had so much in common it seemed sort of sad we weren’t better acquaintances.

Without effort, he talked about his life in detail, touching on some of the stuff that Levi had talked about throughout the months and some stuff I would have never even known, given that we had never had that opportunity. I shared a few things with him about my life, too. When it was all said and done, we lightened the mood with our favorite subject talking about sex. I won’t even lie. Talking about some our most memorable conquests nearly got us caught up like we did that night at the restaurant with a soft grope between two clothed buddies.

We stopped shy of getting started again. James received a call from Mack who had a line on a few women that were ready and willing. He asked Mack if it was cool if I could tag along. He saw no problem with it. But I told him to go ahead, I had other plans, and I would lock up now that I had a key of my own. James left, and I headed upstairs to drop off the key to the truck.

I placed the truck key on the table where Levi could easily find it come first thing Tuesday morning. I hadn’t been anywhere near that room since that day I caught him jacking off that time. Because I still had some time on my hands before my evening got underway and I was fully alone, I thought I would kill some time feeding my curiosity by snooping around to find out what else my boss did in that room.

It was set up like a cheap efficiency that ran the length of the squat building. There was a small table next to this stub of a kitchen unit that ran along the opposite wall of the entranceway. On the other end of the room, there was an oversized couch facing the empty windows out into the street next to a raggedy recliner facing a relatively new television which sat at the foot of the cot. This, along with large and small storage containers littered in between. The large containers were filled with clothes and blankets and some other work-related stuff. The smaller containers were filled with basic necessities and other knickknacks.

Apart from the lack of space that crowded that side of the room, it still remained very much clean and organized. I tried to keep in mind he was very much ex-military. The problem I kept on running into was that even for him it was too clean and too organized for measly junk. Like there was this strange feeling that something needed to be hidden in plain sight. Just in case. The dilemma I was running into was, was it any of my business to find out, being that I worked so hard to gain his trust? The obvious answer was no. I was a better man than I was a boy. When I did those things in the past, I was going for things of monetary value to survive. There was nothing for me to acquire or get or get got from him I didn’t already have. That was, of course, minus the house and the business and it wasn’t like I could hide them somewhere on my person. That was this gist of my old gig, I remembered. Get what I could get. At my worst I was at my best. No question. This—what I was going for—was pure curiosity. The risk was too high for so little if any reward. I had been away from the underside too long. I could mess up.

Then, the thing that always drove me kicked in, the excitement, the rush, the adrenaline. Yes, I was that good, or was, to try it without being detected. That was part of the fun back in the day. To do it in such a way they didn’t even know their space had been violated until much later on.

Everybody was gone. I had a photogenic memory.

No.

I was halfway to the downstairs door when the itch got the best of me. I reasoned I could at least wander around. Not touching the obvious and fumble around with things that weren’t going to make much of a difference, starting with the television. I turned it on expecting to find it on some porno channel. The television only received air channels, which told me that the primary reasons that a fifty-year-old man used it were to play adult videos and catch up on the news. I was right. Hidden underneath the television was an expensive VCR-DVR player/converter. Beneath that was an array of porno flicks that failed to stray away from the typical babysitter fantasies and girl-on-girl action. At first glance, the original impression I walked away with was that it was something like his Top 25 favorites or something. The more I thought about it though the least likely that made any sense. The way they were hidden but displayed told me that those videos were put there with great forethought. In short, meaning if somebody had gone that far to come across them, they were there to throw whomever off the scent. Given his paranoia, it made all the sense in the world. Where Levi messed up was that none of his personality showed up in any of those flicks. It could’ve been his thing, don’t get me wrong. However, Levi was too much of a black empowerment kind of man to have such a lilywhite collection given the state of black porn. Next to that, those videos I saw in that cabinet were too tightly in there, leading me to two connecting but different conclusions: 1) it gave the impression there were some more somewhere else in spite of the fact there was room to stack them on top of or around the existing collection, and 2) it was almost next to impossible to pry the tapes he had down there, telling me it was some of the stuff he least watched.

Something told me to turn on the machine and change the channel to either Channel Three or Four, and there it was. It was an amateur-made-for-porn featuring a four blinged-out black guys taking turns spraying their loads in the face of a submissive white suburban housewife. Her husband soon comes home angry to find the men surrounding his wife and threatens to call the police. They leave, and once he gets his wife alone, he licks her face clean of cum.

I knew there had to be more films like that. Nobody started off on amateur without growing tired of the professional-grade stuff unless it was homemade. I rumbled through the obvious stuff in the obvious places like under the bed or next to the nightstand, hoping it would lead me in the right direction. It took a while. Pulling stuff out and putting stuff back in the same spirit I found them, but I stumbled across the motherload in several large containers stacked on top of one another each hidden thinly under some thick work pads. It wasn’t until after I found them it made sense that was where they would be. They were sort of the odd containers out in the room and ones that were quite accessible to the television and the player to change in and out on a whim.

When I said I hit the motherload, I hit the motherload! He probably had every straight black porn and compilation ever made. And that was not including the boatload of interracial stuff that featured black men and a rainbow coalition of women of other ethnicities. I was tempted to grab a few of the videos, but thought it was best not to push my luck. I engrained the faces and titles to mind, in hopes of renting a few of them out later on down the road. I thought I was impressed with his library until I came across a couple of black gay titles featuring these muscled-up black guys on the cover of a bootlegged black and white. These weren’t like Bobby Blake or Flex-Deon Blake or anything like that. These were like freakishly muscled up he-man giants that made them look average. I had never seen them before and was thrown that the cover boasted something about Senegal and Guinea, West Africa. I was so aghast by the cover that the fact that it was gay and that my boss owned it didn’t even enter my mind.

I popped in the tape and was immediately blown out of the water. It jumped right into the night action with torches lit around this rock-ring of dirt with a large boulder in the middle. On it were these large thick mitts belonging to this nutbrown-colored muscled man bracing himself as a blue-black colossus mounted him doggie-style, and pounded away at him with what I can only describe as a greasy third thigh. The quality wasn’t all that great but that was almost easy to forgive. The chocolate mountains of muscled men and the man-fucking they did with their overfed serpents was so raw and so intense and so hardcore it made most of the best-intentioned muscle fuck studios feel like a total rip-off.

I was lounging back in the recliner ready to fist fuck a second load when I was startled by the presence of two angry eyes burning the side of my head. And before I could say anything this explosive voice shouted, “What the hell?”

It was Levi.

Once the blood rushed back through my body, I jumped up and closed up my jumper halfway.

My next reaction was to cuss him out. He was supposed to have been far away on vacation with his wife. What the hell? I wasn’t that cool, though, stumbling to find my words as he moved closer in on me.

He was already an ugly son of a bitch, but his anger showed me what ugly could really look like. He was ready to blow a gasket with his hands balled up in a fist ready to fight. I’ve been to prison and ran up on a few close calls, but never in my life was I as scared as I was in that moment. I should have been able to find my words quicker, if I knew what upset him most. The invasion of privacy or finding out he was the owner of one of the best porns I had ever seen.

I had to come up with something quick before we got into it. I won’t say the odds were against me. I was still a man and would fight hard to the end, which was part of the reason I didn’t run though I was quite sure I could outmaneuver him.

“I-I-I-I thought I would come up here to put the keys on the table. When I got up here I thought I would turn on the television to catch some news before I left.” I lied, but felt it was coming off as believable. “I turned it on and it was frozen to some flick. I was getting ready to turn it off when I came across a flick I thought I would like.”

“Yeah, but that flick wasn’t in there.” He said, still in hard stance, walking me around the room as the grumble and roars seemed to grow louder to fill the space.

“I know. I know. When I came back up from squatting down, I tipped back and knocked the containers over. I was so busy trying to make sure that everything was okay that I came across. I saw it wasn’t like the rest. I popped it in and got caught up.”

“You had no business.” He stopped, giving me more time to think.

“You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I’m sorry.” I agreed.

“Forget it.” He mumbled.

“Where did you get it?”

He gave me a nasty look and asked, “You gay or something?”

I could’ve come back with something hard but chose not to. With most black men there was a world of difference between being gay and messing around with another man, and although I had pulled him back from the edge, he was still relatively close to it.

“I got plenty action back when I was locked up.”

“Yeah,” he said softly.

“Pussy is great when it’s soaking wet. Like a slip ‘n’ slide. But a good tight ass will choke the life out of a dick.”

“You don’t say?” He smiled.

“Don’t it look like your boy is having the time of his life?” I said, looking back at the television with another giant growling and practically doing pushups on his smaller but beefier counterpart. “I bet back in the Service there was some cocksucker that took care of the barracks. He probably had some good ass that you remember, too.”

I could tell I struck a chord.

“He only sucked my dick. And he only gave me that ass one time.” He defended.

“It was good wasn’t it?”

“Hell, yeah,” he smiled. “If my wife—when she was my girlfriend—wasn’t pregnant with my firstborn, I probably would’ve high-tailed it with him to San Francisco or something.”

“It was that good, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“I know that you’ve gotten some ass since then?”

“I’ve had a season or two,” he said to my surprise. “Back when I was younger, of course. I got that video about fifteen years ago during my last rendezvous. As I got older, I realized that Mary’s been good to a man with a face like mine.”

“Man, stop that shit.” I said moving slowly closer to him. “What you lack with that mug you damn sure make up for with that body of yours.”

“Really,” he said mockingly.

“Hell, yeah, no lie, Levi,” I replied in a deep and husky tone. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but shit, there been a few nights I’ve jacked off thinking about all that tight body of yours. For some damn reason, it makes for some nice eye candy in spite of the face.”

“Really,” he said assured.

“Yeah, in fact, it took me awhile to realize the face is actually a nice part of the package. By no fucking means are you a pretty boy but is sort of brings everything together. Like you need a hard face for those hard muscles or some shit like that.”

I saw the wheel spinning in his heard. He looked at me in a way that made me feel totally uncomfortable. There weren’t a whole lot of men that did that to me. There weren’t a whole lot of men that did it for me either. Even when I thought I knew my type, I was discovering I didn’t. He didn’t even come close to the profile I thought. But everything I said before was true. I was very much attracted to him. I just didn’t know what I was going to do with it.

It was one thing when I simply wanted to fuck somebody. The answer was simple. I found a way to coax them into a position where that was viable. This was virgin territory for me. I was extremely attracted to a man whose ass I didn’t want to fuck, and yet still had an undeniable lust for. Along with the fact that it was blatantly obvious I was dealing with a man that didn’t get fucked no how. I could’ve rolled with the punches, suppressed the butterflies in my stomach, had I been in that position before, to weigh in on the experience. But I hadn’t. The thought never really crossed my mind. As far as I knew I was a big man with a big dick therefore the rules were set in stone. I automatically got ass or at a minimum was a wingman during the affair. The dilemma that I was facing was that Levi was an even bigger man. If he was anything like his brother, he had a bigger dick too. So, according to my rules, he got privileges, everything was stacked in his favor including his fifteen-year seniority over me.

“I got some gel and some cream lube stuff over there in the corner.” Levi nodded.

I was about to go through with it and my mind wasn’t even in the room anymore. It had gone back to months earlier when I warned James about life behind bars.

Half the battle was lost when a man let it in his mind.

Levi sniffed out my hidden desire.

“Cool,” I responded, getting my mind wrapped around this new concept. He was the predator, and I was the prey. “Go get it.”

It wasn’t so much as coming up against a man I thought was man enough to climb on my back. There were too many men over the years, in my past that could have filled that void. It finally occurred to me if I was going to ever go through with it, I wanted my first to be the one I felt I had every right to submit to. He was the first if not the only authority I had to answer to in my free adult years. I usually made the rules as I went along. If I didn’t like what was said, I let it be known, damning all the consequences. Levi was somebody I had to answer to, came hell or high water. He was somebody I had no choice but to respect. Most importantly he was somebody’s respect I had to genuinely earn, brick by brick and step by step. He couldn’t be bent on that. It was a revelation that I even could. Even more devastating it was done without even knowing I was doing it, without my conscious consent. In one careless instant, he let me know that respect was all we had in one another and I came this close to feeling the wrath of his intimidation.

I flinched for the first time in my life. I was scared of a man, a mature black muscled-bound macho man that was both tall and superb.

I was frightened, and when I recovered I was horny as hell.

I won’t say that everything happened so fast because it didn’t. That was most certain thing I remembered about that evening. The rest was slightly shard and blurred right up to that point. I can’t remember what came first: the shucking of all our clothes or being on that couch. I do remember sitting down there. I wasn’t getting on that cot. It was too damn close to those windows. It was the only control of my nerves that I had left. I remember him getting the lube and stuff and putting it to the side. He sucked my dick first, in an attempt to get me relaxed. He told me I was a beautiful man and that I was blessed with a beautiful piece. I remember that distinctly because I was lying back on the couch with him between my legs curious to see his.

We moved into a sixty-nine position. He was on top of me. And though I had his unforgiving dick in my not-so-willing mouth, I had a warped view of it with his heavy musty balls pressed against my nose. I was fighting so hard to breathe around the part I could get into my mouth that I wasn’t brought into the new until I felt a warm wet finger slide scrupulously in and out of my hole. It didn’t hurt. It just made me wince with a tinge of discomfort that I didn’t worry about. I was certain that my body was going to reject the foreign object, much like many tight asses that weren’t ready to give in. I guess I was one of those rare exceptions. The more his meaty digit came into me the more it welcomed him and the tenderness against my mental will. I was deathly afraid of more invaders, even though I was fully aware what was about to go down soon.

He stopped shy of slipping in another finger. Thank goodness, I thought lamely. We broke away from our sixty-nine position, and he was on the other end of me licking the soles of my big-ass feet, size sixteen. I thought nothing of it other than he had a thing for feet. Stranger fetishes had happened to stranger people. Whatever got his goat. He worked his way from licking the soles to sucking my toes, starting with the baby toe and gradually worked his way back up. Once he got to that second toe next to the big toe, my body started to convulse and a sound I didn’t know I could make came out of my grit-teethed mouth. The next thing I knew I felt my butthole gape open. The experience was so new to me I didn’t know what to make of it.

Levi did. Unfazed, he just kept on sucking my toe watching me go spasm beneath him. It was like I was torn between desperately wanting him to stop and pressed to see where it would lead. Forever had passed, it seemed, and I no longer had control of my own body. My sensory was in overload and there wasn’t shit I could do. I couldn’t even pry my foot away from his mouth.

After a long while, I came back to where he tugged firmly on my balls bringing them down to around my hole as he fingered it once more. It accepted him more willingly than before. He painstakingly put it in and painstakingly pulled it out. When he put it in again, I found it odd his finger was remarkably softer than it was the first time. It took me a second to accept it was softer because it was wet. And it was wet because I was wet. Bastard! I wasn’t bleeding. This was all-natural, a doing of my own from what he done to me.

 

We’re going to have so much fun, his eyes smiled, knowing he had me where he wanted me. Something in my mind told me to look down. I did, and my stomach nearly dropped out of my hole. I got a clear and unadulterated view of Levi in all his glory. He had a massive uncut swinging dick that rivaled his brother but wasn’t nearly as thick as it was long. I knew game and I respected it. He needed me to get open just like I needed to get many of my pieces open.

“I don’t think we really need this,” he said, fingering the lube in my sloppy wet hole after fisting it on his dick. “But this here ain’t no joke, son.”

He pulled me closer to him by my powerful thighs. The length of his dick rode the groove of my crack and then some. I snapped back into the fullest of consciousness then. He was too damn big for my first time.

 

Please, oh fucking please, reconsider! I’m too much of a man to run. I won’t run. But you can reconsider it, everything. Aw, damn!

He lifted me off him a bit, and I felt the greasy head of his pole hit just above my hole.

“Just relax,” he warned.

It was easier said and done, thinking about the countless assholes I said that to and never showed mercy.

He was fucking with my head rubbing it up and down and around my hole sometimes rubbing on it just for fun. He took my foot back in his mouth. It gaped open and he just sunk it in there.

He was enormously big, but it felt surprisingly soft like a rolled-up taco was being shoved in my hole. It hurt, but not nearly as bad as I thought. He let go of my foot and let it drop to his side. He brought my ass back down on him. Centimeters felt like inches, inches felt like feet, and his foot long plus felt about a mile long down to the hilt.

“Ah, shit,” he groaned the way a man took a much-needed piss.

I was feeling so much in that one moment it was hard to start with just one feeling. For the first time in my life, I was on the other end of one of biggest dicks I had ever seen. I had an inkling into the world of all the bottoms I had ever fucked. I felt full, shot with a speeding hot bullet, split wide open and the pressure that his dick went well passed my bellybutton. Yet, in spite of this, I remained relatively calm exhaling deep, thinking back to what I told myself years ago if this had gone down in prison.

He pushed all of it in me and held steady like letting me know this was how much of my guts he was going to ream out. He pulled back. The first few lunges were annoying as they were painful as they weren’t as deep. It felt like something in me was slowly closing up. I got the reason why when he started to thrust deeper into me. He was knocking the wind out of me. My head felt like it was about to explode with his dick coming through it. It felt like it was also floating away at the same time. I tried not to focus on the godforsaken pain because there was a small amount of pleasure in the mix every time he stroked passed my prostate.

This must have read well on my face because he upped the ante by literally lifting me off the sofa with every killer pump. I wouldn’t have believed it if I heard it given my weight and size. Levi was a mad man with it. I had to reach back and brace myself against the arm of the sofa so I didn’t fly off the edge.

I wanted to scream, tap out. But he man inside of me just bit my tongue and grunted like a pig led to slaughter, listening to his dick slide in and out of me farting like pussy.

I got lost in the action. The inside of my hole grew numb. The outside was growing even more sensitive to the entanglement of his pubes. I wanted to hold on this feeling while I was feeling it, so I gyrated back against him.

“Damn, if I knew that the ass was this good.” He kept on mumbling from time to time.

He flipped me on my stomach and brought my ass back to him doggie-style.

In this new position he made sure I felt every inquiring inch with the eloquence and style a fine horseman parading around his prized stallion. I felt like a piece of meat before but this was new.

He got tired of this gentlemanly role and laid me back down. The position wasn’t nearly as welcoming as the other two given our bodies and the softness of oversized couch.

He flipped me again, back on my back, where he regained his stride and plowed into me like a vicious monster. Though he had amazing stamina, he was getting tired and sweating while my butthole hurt, and I was sweating over everything.

Eventually, I thought enough of him to pull him forward in for a kiss. He obliged keeping in mind that his first job was to take care of his dick with my ass.

He rode it this way.

I was feeling all kinds of something, waves of nutt-less orgasms every time he hit that spot. I couldn’t take it anymore. I always kept my hand on my dick. I just had it more or less to rub it than to jack off. Foolishly, I thought I was still holding on to something, a piece of my manhood, letting him know I wasn’t that easy.

I grabbed my dick and started jacking off. After only a few measly strokes, I popped a gusher-like wad that shot from my dick back onto my slick stomach. I was so embarrassed in the moment I immediately threw my draining dick back at his likewise cobblestone stomach, painting it white with cum.

Surely, I thought Levi was right behind me. He had to be near the edge looking at the lake of cum he drilled out of me. My hole was closing up and I was feeling more of him than I was before, which meant he didn’t have nearly the leeway he had before.

The old man had something to prove apparently. He was still pounding away long after the cum on his stomach had made its way down to his pubes and back to my balls before it got lost in sticky sweat. I thought I did everything to make him cum. I pulled at his nipples, gripped his butt cheeks, and pulled his balls, nothing.

I was about to punch him in his stomach as a last-ditch effort when I felt his dick grow bigger inside of me followed by this steady stream of warm goo coating the hole he fucked ever so raw.

Even after he came, he kept his dick up in my ass letting it crawl out naturally as he caught his breath. As the last of it came out, he wanted to start kissing and caressing on me like we had made love or something.

It wasn’t fucking as much as it was sex, suddenly remembering why it couldn’t be anything more than that. It was as clear as the writing on the walls. He was old-school. He was one of those men that only viewed it as cheating as long as he was with another woman. He simply saw our actions as another man helping out a friend with some affection in between.

“Man,” Levi smiled. “That was great!”

“It was alright.” I agreed, sounding like my usual nonchalant self, causing me to smile at this revelation I was still the same old man.

“I’m not saying that this is something I want to keep up on the regular. I’m just saying it wouldn’t be too bad to have a buddy to watch a flick with from time to time…even if we do nothing more than jack off or something.”

▪        ▪        ▪

I left, and with every step I took I walked with him wet in my ass and dripping down my leg. I couldn’t run home. I knew the scent of sex would roll off me, and I was deathly afraid I was going to tell on myself more than I wanted to. Since I always had an extra change of work clothes in my truck and knew where a full-service truck stop was on the outskirts of town, I drove out there. I threw my clothes into the washer and with some cleaning stuff in I jumped in the shower to wash off the evidence.

I had just finished vacuuming and spraying down the inside of my truck when I got a call from Mack inviting me out to a strip club with him and his uncle. I usually rejected most of his invites. Even though I liked Mack as a man, it was quite obvious early on that we rolled in two entirely different circles. This time I agreed. I felt if I headed home in the squeaky-clean condition I was in after being at “work all day” would have suggested I was trying hard to cover something up. So I agreed.

I met up with Mack and James and a few of their other friends sitting front and center. I took my spot next to them like I was still one of the guys. Minus the self-conscious feeling of recently having my asshole stretched. We drank and we smoked and had a kick-ass good time. I ordered lap dances left and right. Right off the bat, most people might have thought I was trying to cover up or compensate for recent events. But that couldn’t have been further from the truth. I wasn’t even bombarded with the self-impression of feeling like less than a man for getting fucked like I thought I should or would. The truth of the matter, I walked away from it a more gracious man, tipping those strippers extremely well as my way apologizing to every woman that ever took my big-ass dick with joyful abandon.

I understood now it was hard work.

While my dick was in full swing giving my money away, James was off in the corner getting piss-drunk. At the time, I thought it had nothing to do with me until I was appointed his designated driver. He got so tore up he was afraid for dear life to go home to his nagging wife. My first thought was to take him back to the office and leave him there. If Levi was or wasn’t still there, it was fine by me either way. James convinced me otherwise. He wanted me to drop him off at this new motel, to scout it out as a new place to bring the pussy he was bound to get in the future. It was easier said than done. He may have had the money, but I was the one with the means of having to be the one to check him in. If that wasn’t enough, unbeknownst to me, the motel clerk gave me a room in the back on the second floor. I thought because the place was so big in the front the room wasn’t that far away. It was one thing to have a sore ass posting up his hefty frame as we strolled through parking lot looking like two idiots. It was another having to stuff his drunken ass back into my truck once we found out there were rows of other buildings behind that main one. We rode around to eventually find the right building, take his sorry ass back out of the truck, and drag it up the stairs and into his room.

I was so tired I was tempted to leave him right there on the ground in front of the room. My conscious started to kick in, and I thought the least I could do with the three-hundred-dollar tip he gave me was see him into the room and into the bed.

I was just about there, about to toss him on the bed, when out of nowhere James swooped behind me and locked his arms under mine and hands behind my head.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I shouted.

I never been in this position before, taken by surprise like this. My large build had always protected me from any kind of foolishness.

“I want to fuck you.” He whispered in my ear, very low and sexy-like.

The message became even clearer once I felt his dick point up against my clothed backside.

There were two things I thought I could do. If I was still the man from a few hours back, the one jacking off to a flick, I would’ve protested being I never got fucked before. Maybe it was still a bit of the alcohol talking or the tiredness of lugging him around, but I figured that since I was still sore from when his brother stretched me out, I might as well finish off the night with him. Being that in my mind this was a one-night only sort of thing. Get now or get never.

“I want you to suck my dick.”

“Yeah,” he said hoarsely.

I moved my head against the back of his calloused hands. “Shit, I want you to take those pussy-eating lips and eat my ass, motherfucker.” I mouthed.

“I knew you were down.” He said with a devilish smile burning into the back of my head.

“I knew you were too.” I said, thinking he probably thought I got turned out in prison.

He slowly let go of my arms and started to fumble with the front of my jumper, coming out of it with nothing more than my underclothes and my boots. I didn’t mind coming out of my undershirt and underwear. But I said to myself if I was going to get fucked again, I was going to make it even more memorable by getting fucked with my boots on.

James wasted no time tossing me on the bed. I was trying hard to hold in my laughter kneeing the bed with my legs spread and my strong arms holding the rest of me up. I couldn’t believe I was doing this shit again, I thought, going from never getting fucked in my thirty-five years to twice in one night. He pulled my dick from between my legs and into his mouth. He was just like his brother. He was no virgin to giving some head. Except that with his brother it was more of a formality and with him it was something that he truly enjoyed.

James took it in deep. He didn’t get down to the balls, but it felt like he got awfully close with my short curled hairs tickling against his nose. He thought he was being slick by thumbing around my aching hole, which was still wet from the shower earlier and the perspiration it collected from sitting at the bar.

“Don’t play with your food.” I exhaled.

He took the cue and worked his way on up passed my balls and into my crack. I only thought he loved sucking dick compared to the way he pulled my cheeks apart and ate me out. I always knew I had a big bulky ass. I had too many people tell me that most of my life, and sort of knew it the way I poured into just about every pair of pants I ever wore. I just didn’t know how big it was until my sculpted ass padlocked his entire face with it. This seemed to turn him on even more, eating it like it was about to be taken away. He got so lost in eating me out I had to remind him that he said he wanted to fuck me too.

Once I got the words out, I started to regret what I said. I thought about his dick and the lube that I was sure that we didn’t have with us. Even with the slob up in my hole it was bound to dry up after a few strokes. I couldn’t get my words together fast enough before he was already positioned behind me pushing in that sick movie-sized anaconda into me. The slickness was surprisingly fine. It just didn’t do much for the searing pain that was in my intestines he was making worst with his special kind of rub. I swore up and down he had it down to the hilt until I felt his balls on top of my balls.

“Damn, son, you got one of those Hungry Hungry Hippo holes.” He joked.

He pushed it in carefully but pulled it out with a vengeance. The pain was indescribable. It hurt like hell, knocking out any notion of wanting to laugh at my unusual situation, rendering me speechless. He stepped back for a second and threw something on the bed next to me. He resumed the position, throwing it back in there like he was tossing a football. It hurt still, but not as much causing me to let out this screech I never heard in my life!

“Don’t tell me that this dick is killing you the way it swallowed it up, now?” He smirked, grabbing me by my waist and manually stroking me on his dick. “Take it all in one stroke. Hoes can’t even take it pro like that.”

“Fuck,” I groaned with him impaling me further on his dick, too tired and sore to add “you.”

“You like big dick, huh? You like this dick, bitch?” He asked.

I was too busy catching my breath, trying to cough up the words to tell him to take it easy and that I was on the verge of whupping his ass by calling me a bitch. A bitch got fucked, I thought. I had to instantly rethink that, quickly remembering my position. A bitch was one that liked to get fucked. I had to rethink that again too, seeing I was getting fucked for a second time in less than a six-hour period, and by his brother no less.

“Huh,” he pounded into me. “Tell me you like this shit. Yeah. Take it like you my bitch, bitch.”

He fucked me for everything I was worth and then some. I tried every trick that ever been tried on me to get this over with, but nothing worked. He did however reach over me and jack me off. I came harder than I did before. He caught a good bit of it in his calloused hand and smeared it hard across my mouth, trying roughly to work his fingers in my mouth. He got passed the lips but not the teeth. He was not going to spoon-feed me my nutt like I was some bitch in heat that didn’t give a shit. Different from before, my hole didn’t feel like it was locking around his dick. It felt oddly looser. This caused him to dig his fingers into me to get a better grip. I guess he got too great of a grip because while I was afraid of shitting I felt his ultra-hot cum filling my guts.

“Oh,” I hollered, feeling like shards of glass just exploded in my ass.

“Shut the fuck up and take it,” the forty-eight-year-old said, gently sliding his softening dick in and out of my asshole. “I didn’t even need the Vaseline for your ho’ ass.”

He gave my ass one last smack as he pulled out and fell on my back. He kissed me on my neck and told me that it was good, never knowing it could be that good.

I left his words as I found them. I was too damn tired.

I fell asleep underneath him and about a few hours later dropping him off at his house, acting like nothing happened as we did before.

▪        ▪        ▪

I came back to work the following Tuesday morning with my head held high. I won’t even lie. I spent the entire three-day weekend debating if I was going to take an extra day off or if I was ever going to show my face at work again. It was bad enough that I went from a proud alpha male to losing my butthole virginity to a man that could kick my ass, but it was a harder pill to swallow, to get over this slutty notion I let two brothers that I work for bareback me. I had to remember though I was still a man. I still had responsibilities and a driven purpose of legally showing the bank and the government I had the means to buy a house. Astonishingly, there wasn’t even a moment of uneasiness, and nothing much changed for the worst. James and I worked out a beautiful compromise spending part of our time working and the other part of the time chasing tail with Mack. We still fucked around, but not nearly to the degree anyone would think given the amount of time we spent together. We were too busy chasing around anonymous tail to be bothered. As for Levi and me, we were cooler than ever. We hung out upstairs after worked watching one of his many flicks about every couple of weeks or so. We pretty much jacked off every time, with him stretched out on the cot and with me sitting on the couch. We probably got into something a bit extra about every other month or so.

I stayed with the job about a couple of years after that, long enough to show the system my W-2 forms. It was also long enough for Levi and his other mysterious brother to come to their senses and allowed me to buy out James, after I made a few very profitable changes. Of course, the buyout subtracted a couple of percentage points so the Bishop family could hold the majority stake in the business.

My motto is as long as it is putting a steady flow of bread in my pocket I’m good.