The Tutor

Chapter One

Tyson King grew more irritated with each passing second. Royale, the asshole he was supposed to be tutoring, was once again late. Not that it mattered, because when he did show up, it wasn't like the conceited little shit was going to learn anything. Between answering text messages and trying to get Tyson to just do his work for him, Royale succeeded in learning not even the simplest math principle.

Tyson scowled and looked at his watch as Royale strutted into the little room he had reserved for them in the Chowan College library. “You're late.” He scolded.

“Why I always gotta be the one who's late?” teased Royale. “Could it be that you're just too early sometimes?”

Just when Tyson was about to jump all over his case for being a smart ass, Royale flashed him the smile that Tyson was sure he'd be able to use all his life, to get whatever he wanted. Tyson's tone softened as he stated, “Please try to be here on time.”

“What’s does it matter, Ty? My folks are still gonna pay you. Let’s be real; I haven't passed a single test since you've been tutoring me. My folks wanted to shit can you weeks ago, but I told them that if you were not my tutor, then I would just drop out of high school and be done with it.”

“Wow.”  Tyson was amazed. “You fight for me to keep my job but make no effort to improve your grades.”

“Why should I?” he shrugged. “I'm going to graduate; my parents have too much money for me not to get out of the Hertford County Public School system. They're going to pay for my college, and possibly any home I decide to live in.”

Tyson could feel himself becoming disgusted by Royale's arrogance. Tyson had worked hard all his life, maintained an A average from elementary school straight through high school. His family was dirt poor and he could take nothing for granted.

“Ok, since we're not going to get any work done today anyway, I'm going to go and work on my paper.” Said Tyson.

“Cool, I will join you; I haven't seen your dorm room yet.”

“You can't. I like to work alone, and my roommate does not like other people in the room.” Tyson did not know why he felt the need to make up a lie

“I don't want to be around you because you're an arrogant unappreciative little fuck, and I'm bound to bust your whole fucken grill open if I'm around you one more second.”  was what Tyson really wanted to say.

“Well, why don't you come chill at my pad; you can work on your paper there.”

“Are you crazy kid? I am not about to go to your place and let your parents see me working on my school work when they're paying me to help you with yours.”

“No, man. I have my own pad. My parents let me move into an apartment a few days ago. That's why I've been late; I've been trying to get it presentable.”

“I don't fucken believe it! You do nothing in school. You don't give a shit about shit, and your parents allow your seventeen-year old ass to move into your own place, where they no doubt pay all the rent and utilities.”

 “It's better than having me around, I guess.”

 There was no joking or flippant undertone to Royale's statement. For the first time, since meeting him, Tyson actually felt sympathy for Royale. Maybe being an asshole was the only way that he knew how to deal with the hurt of knowing that his parents were willing to buy him the world if they didn't have to be around him.

“I guess I can drop in for a couple of hours.” said Tyson.

“Cool. Are you going to stop and get beer?'

“Hell no! Besides, I'm only twenty.”

“Well, ain't it good my dad stocked my fridge.”' smiled Royale.    

Tyson shook his head as he and Royale left the library.

Chapter Two

“This really is a nice place.”  Said Tyson admiring all of the luxuries a seventeen- year old that hadn't even recorded an album enjoyed. “I hope that once I graduate, I'm able to get a job that will allow me to have a nice spot like this.”

 He enjoyed the lushness of the burgundy leather couch. Butter soft. Growing up, the family living room had three broke down, baby shit green, thrift store sofas that his folks had recently replaced with less broke down, puke green, thrift store sofas, none of which provided a sitter as much comfort as what he presently sat on.

''Well, at least you will have earned it. Do you know I've never had to work for anything in my entire life?”

'The hell you say”' smirked Tyson.

“'You know my parents never beat my ass?” Asked Royale. “Or put me on punishment. They just bought me shit and went on vacation leaving me with the nanny.”

“Black folks really have nannies for their children?” asked Tyson.

“Rich assed pretentious ones like mine do.” Royale’s eyes became glassy.

Tyson wasn't certain if he was truly emotional or if the three beers he'd consumed were taking a toll. Tyson knew, from drinking with the guys on campus, that an emotional drunk was not a pretty thing.

“You really want to know why they got me this place?”

“I am rather curious.” admitted Tyson.

Royale clumsily reached up under the love seat that he was sitting on and removed at least five magazines and flung them over onto the couch where Tyson sat. Tyson's eyes nearly popped out of his head as the magazines landed beside him and on the floor, revealing pages that contained pictures of naked black men. Some were in the act, full throttle, with other ebony studs, while others were simply pictured in sexy poses, their hard dicks and menacing smiles seemingly beckoning to anyone who dared to turn a page. The image that nearly made his heart jump out of his chest was that of a young, light brown brother with a slim athletic build. Though he wasn't completely naked his sheer white boxers left nothing to the imagination.

'This is you. I don't get it; you're seventeen. Your folks should have somebody's ass in jail.”

“And risk their friends finding out they have a faggot for a son?”

“But grown men had sex with you, and they did nothing about it!”

“Who said anybody had sex with me?”

“Come on, Royale; these places are all alike. I find it hard to believe that a nice looking, young man like you modeled for them and nobody offered you money for sex.”

“Sure, they did, but, hello... my folks are loaded. Why would I fuck for money? I gave that pathetic assed grand they paid me to a broke friend of mine who auditioned for them. They wouldn't hire him because they didn't think he was cute enough. Weird, because he was light skinned like you.”

“What's that got to do with anything?”

“It's just that the guy who owns the agency, Kylo Kross, he's partial to guys that look like you.”

Without warning, Tyson had leapt from the couch unto Royale and put him in a tight hammer lock.

“You trying to be funny, mother fucker; You think that shit is a joke!?”

“What are you talking about?” wailed Royale.

Tyson, realizing that he had actually attacked another individual, let the boy go and began to gather his things.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Demanded Royale.

 “Fuck you!” hissed Tyson. “I don't blame your parents for not wanting your punk ass.” He slung his backpack over his shoulder and left Royale alone to contemplate. “What the fuck was that all about?”

Chapter Three

(2007)

“We pay $500 for shirtless shots with sagging jeans, $750 for shots of boys in just their boxers.” The handsome, dark skinned man flashed a nervous Tyson a smile before continuing. “Now if you want to make some good money fast, you got to be full frontal.”

“What does that pay?” asked Tyson, hoarsely. He was sweating like a ho in church. All those years of making straight A's and staying out of trouble had come to this. He needed a car to get around Murfreesboro, the town he now attended college in, plus he'd had a call back for a job in a neighboring town. A car was a must. One of his friends on campus hipped him to Black, Gay&Bold.com, because his “Uncle”, Kylo, owned the site and was looking for a new crop of models. His friend drove him all the way to Elizabeth City, and basically abandoned him at the studio.

“Well,” smiled Kylo. “We pay $900 for a soft nude shot, $1500 for a shot of you with your dick on hard, and $2500 if you give us a money shot. We also do movies.”

“I don't want to do a movie.” said Tyson, quickly.

“You sure? Pretty nigga like you could make up to seven grand for one movie. Ten, if you go raw.”

Damn, that sounded like a lot of money. One movie and he could have a used car. How many photo shoots would he have to do?

“Are you sure I can make ten grand?”

 “If you do a raw scene, and if you're willing to bottom. I'm doing a series called Chocolate Tops; Butter Scotch Bottoms. I think our audience would love to see your pretty, yellow ass get pounded by Tank Thrasher.”

“Tank Thrasher?”

“You'll do fine kid, I think we ought to call you Short Cake, we should be able to get this shot today...”

“Goddamn Thrasher, you think you could've showed the newbie a little mercy?”

“Hey, Kylo pays me to pound pretty ass, Cedric.”

“Yeah, but he doesn't pay me enough to clean up all this fucken blood, so next time, take it easy.”

“They going to use that scene with all that blood and him blacking out and shit?”

“Got no choice, that kid can't handle another go 'round with you. Fucken tight assed amateur.”

Tyson had been listening from another room. He did not know who had removed him from the set and laid him on the cot, but from the sound of things, they didn't do it until after Tank got his money shot, the sticky remnants of which were caked to his stomach and inner thigh, along with his own blood. Tank Thrasher was right. That big, black, brollic mother fucker was about six-eight, and his cock was a good two feet, no exaggeration.

“Are you alright?” asked Cedric, the assistant, handing Tyson a bottle of sprite and three pain killers. “You're lucky, honey. The first time I was with Tank, I had to have my asshole stitched back together.”

“You do movies for this site?’  Tyson was confused, he did not know that white models worked for BG&B.

“Oh sugar, no.” said Cedric, crossing his legs. “I made a promise to my family and myself that no one would ever pound this lily-white ass on camera. No sweetie, Tank’s my boyfriend.”

“And you let him do porn?”

“Sweetness, you are really young. What could be so important to you that you would lose you virginity in such a way?”

“Who sad that I was a virgin?”

“Baby, I am damn near forty, and have seen and done it all. A white trash faggot like me knows when a little boy still has his cherry, and it didn't take Tank to bust your ass open for me to tell. Some kids come in here and they're pros because they've been fucking, by force or at will, since before they were old enough to cum, but you have an innocence about you. This shit is not who you are.”

“I just really needed some fast money.”

“For what? Certainly not drugs, because I doubt if your ass has even smoked weed.”

‘It doesn't matter. I was stupid for going about it this way.”

“By the way, Sugar, here.’ Cedric handed him a thick brown envelope. “Kylo’s dirty ass was talking about not paying you your full ten grand; said it was going to cost money to get the blood out of those sheets. Plus, you were out for a good seven minutes, so it's going to cost money to loop the scene to look like you were awake the whole time, but I told him I would report his ass for using under aged models like you.”

“But I'm...I'll be eighteen next month.” he admitted.

“Don't do no more shit like this, baby. Me, Tank, Kylo, and the likes... we're all a bunch of whores with nothing to lose. You have your whole life ahead of you.”

Chapter Four

Royale's stomach turned to jelly as he watched the muscular black juggernaut plow into Tyson who did not look a day over fifteen. Tyson’s baby smooth face was missing the slight tuft of facial hair that he currently sported beneath his chin.

“This shit's been on the net for nearly two years! How the hell did you miss it?” asked Royale's friend, Darrion.

“I just recently started watching porn.” Lied Royale

“I thought you just recently started performing in it. At least the hardcore kind.”

“Fuck you!” Hissed Royale.

“I do, every night in my head when I jerk off, Kreame Royale.”

“Don't ever fucken call me that shit again!” raged Royale as he seized his friend by his collar, dragged him from his seat and threw him against the wall. “I do not throw the fact that you sell your ass on the goddamn streets for crack up in your face, you will not throw what I do for a living in mine.”

“Okay! Okay.” ' panted Darrion once Royale loosened his grip. “Why you so concerned about this guy anyway? Darrion returned to his seat as if he had never been violently snatched out of it.

“I like him,” admitted Royale. “I showed him my picture because I was trying to seduce him. I had no idea he'd ever done some shit like this. Now he thinks I was fucking with him 'cause I'm some privileged, little prick, making light of his situation.”

“Privileged” guffawed Darrion. “Nigger, your family gets more food stamps than mine. Please don't tell me this cat thinks 'cause you're driving your dope dealing cousin Mike's Bentley while he's locked up, which by the way your cousin is going to fuck you up for, that you're rich?”

“Well, I sort of had a hand in it,” admitted Royale. “I noticed him a couple of months ago, when we were shooting pool at Chowan College. I Liked his swag, so I started asking around, and learned that he was a math whiz. So, I posted a sign like my parents were looking for a math tutor and provided only my e-mail address. When he posted his resume, I immediately hired him and began meeting him at the school library. I would pay him out of the money I got from work.”

“So, he figured you were rich?”

“Well, the fact that I told him so might have had a lot to do with it. Along with the fact that he thinks that Mike's crib, and all of his clothes that I have been wearing, were bought for me by my ridiculously rich parents, who kicked me out of their home and got me my own place when they learned of my sexuality.”

“Goddamn, Royale; you couldn't have just asked the guy for his number?”

“I wasn't certain if he was gay. I had to get in close to him and find out.”

“And, boy, did the shit ever blow up in your face.”

“Go to hell man.”

“I'm just saying, if you had stayed in school and put this kind of energy into your school work, you could be going to Chowan College.”

“And what about you?”

“Hey nigga, I'm a crack head; everybody knew I won't going to finish school.” 

Chapter Five

“Tyson, that kid has called here again; will you please speak to him?” Asked his roommate Jeremy.

Tyson gave the pudgy, freckled faced white boy an irritating look before saying, “Fuck that kid!”

“That's well and fine, Tyson, since you have obviously stopped answering the phone, but it has become quite aggravating to me. Now I am trying to avoid reporting the matter because I do not know the nature of you and this boy's relationship, and do not wish to get you into any trouble, so if you just will talk to him.”

Tyson stared coldly at Jeremy for several seconds before saying, “Fuck you too!”

He turned on his mp3 player and let Prince's jam, “Extra Lovable” drown out Jeremy's reaction.

Chapter Six

Tyson could not believe that he was about the go back to Royale's apartment, or the reason why. Just fifteen short minutes ago, he had been in the library, trying to find a copy of Toni Morrison's novel, “Love”. As was his habit, he left his belongings on a table just a few feet away from where he searched. He had no idea when Royale had done it, but he had managed to swipe his backpack without being seen leaving, behind a note that read:

I have your backpack. If you want it back, come to my apartment and get it.

It's really fucked up that I had to resort to this.

 Royale Creamer

After getting past the fact that Royale's last name was Creamer, Tyson became infuriated.

A young rich cock sucker! How dare he think that he can just take shit from people and force them to do what he wanted?

The reality hit him, as he exited his neon that he'd purchased three years ago, that he had given Royale that power by coming to his home rather than going to the police. The boy had after all committed theft.

Like he'd actually pull a day; the boy is rich, Tyson! His folks will have his ass out of jail before Big Dick Billy has a chance to get a hard on, much less make him his young bitch. No, Tyson, just go get your shit, rough him up a little bit, maybe even make him suck your...

“I'm here mother fucker!!” Tyson banged on the door.

“Chill,” said Royale opening the door. “Please keep it down, before somebody calls the landlord.” Royale opened the door wide and beckoned for him to come in.

“Where's my shit?” barked Tyson.

“I swear to god, I will give it to you, and when you leave, you ain't got to speak to me again, but, please hear me out.” Royale motioned for Tyson to join him on the love seat. Tyson opted for the heavenly couch.

“On everything I hold dear, I had no clue that you had done a porno. The last thing I would do is clown somebody about doing a flick, when I have been in at least ten so far.”

“What the fuck kind of shit is this? Your rich ass might have posed in your panties, but you ain’t done no goddamn flick.”

“Oh yea? Go online right now. Go to BG&B.com and type in Kreame Royale.”

“Fuck you, nigga! I'm supposed to believe that you are Kreame Royale?” Guffawed Tyson.

“Does this help?” asked Royale, removing a black skull cap from his back pocket and pulling it over his head.

“Oh shit!”  said Tyson once he recognized that he was indeed standing face to face with Kreame Royale, the sexy, young, versatile, light brown brother that all the open and down low fags on campus had been downloading for the past three months.

“I don't get it; your folks got money. You ain't got to do this.”

“My folks ain't got shit, gee,” confessed Royale. “I grew up on welfare, in public housing. I quit school when I was fifteen. I started helping my cousin sell drugs, but I got caught and spent six months in juvie. One of the cats in there told me about his uncle in Elizabeth City, who hired guys like me as models. Only, I didn't know, until I borrowed money from my cousin to get somebody to drive me to Elizabeth City, that this mother fucker was basically a Chester Molester, who got off on seeing kids get fucked by grown ass mother fuckers with big dicks and no hearts.”

“How old are you?”

“Barely eighteen, but I've been involved in that shit since I was sixteen. At first, it was just pics, like the ones I showed you. I only started doing flicks six months ago.”

“Why the lies? Why the crazy shit about needing a tutor and having rich parents?”

“Because, I liked you, and I didn't think a college man would want me if he knew I did porn, so I lied. But I ain't got to lie no more, because you did it before, so you understand.”

“I did one scene and quit nearly three years ago. You have done several scenes and have whole fucken videos that feature you.”

“So, what; That makes you better than me?' asked Royale, becoming misty eyed.

“No, it doesn’t,” said Tyson. “Can I please have my back pack?”

Royale offered no protest. He went to the bedroom and retrieved Tyson's back pack.

“I am so sorry I lied to you.” He said, handing him the bag.

“I’ve got to go. I’ve got a paper to do.” lied Tyson. 

Chapter Seven

“Love's no fun, when the one you love don't love you.” Sang Royale to Mayte Garcia's soft yet surprisingly soulful voice. The version that he had downloaded from Tyson's MP3 player was far better than the horrific original version his older brothers used to play when he was little.

“I know that's right, sugar,” said Cedric, bringing him a bottle of Sprite. “Honey, you got a photo shoot and a scene to do in fifteen minutes; why ain’t you getting prepared?” He asked, pointing to the pile of pornographic material on the vanity.

“Cedric, have you ever been in love?”

“Sugar, you know that I was with Tank for a long time, until...until his suicide last month.” Cedric breathed a heavy sigh. It had been the first time that he'd said it aloud.

“Did you love him?” Asked Royale, handing Cedric a tissue.

“Child, you are going to make me smear my foundation, and I look like shit these days without it.”

“Did you love him?” Royale asked again.

“Yes, I did.”  said Cedric, composing himself. “I loved him so much that I watched him fuck others men, and quiet as it's kept around here, children, on a daily basis, and went home with him and let him make love to me. When I found out that he had not only got infected with AIDS three months ago in Brazil, but had also infected me, I still loved him. And when he blew his brains out in our apartment, and left me alone at forty-one, sick with no family or true friends, I never stopped loving him. My love for him is that strong.”

“Do you think he would have given this up if you asked him to?”

“I do not know sugar, I was afraid to ask him to, afraid to give him the ultimatum, either give up porn or give up me. I was scared that he would give up me, so I pretended that I did not care.”

“I think that I have found somebody worth quitting this for.”

“Sweet heart, listen to me good. If you are thinking about getting out of this business in order to have a man, you're making a mistake. I've seen it time and time again, young guys leave the business because their noses are open and they think they've found the real deal, only to return six months later, jaded, doped up and empty, doing the most gutter shit on camera, just to fill the void. No, no, sweetie, it’s got to be for you.”

“Who am I fucking today?” Asked Royale as he started to flip through the magazines.

Chapter Eight

“You sure you're up to it, Tyson?'

Tyson hated the way Daquel, his on-campus fuck buddy, approached him for sex. He always had to make sure, as if Tyson was going to scream rape out of the blue.

“I'm going to put it in you now, ok.”  …

…” Tank, I really think that you should handle this one with kid gloves. I have a suspicion that Kylo has hired another baby, and this one sure ain't ready to handle all you're toting.”

“Shit, he brought his ass here, and I intend to pound it.” Tank threw off his white, terry cloth robe, and his monstrous cock sprang forward. It had been the first thing that Tyson had seen when he walked onto the set.

Tyson could feel his body flush red then go colorless with fear. In seventeen years, the only sex act he had ever participated in was exchanging blow jobs with his roommate, Evan, at summer camp two years ago. He couldn't even imagine his mouth opening wide enough to even blow the big black beast. Unfortunately, that became the least of his worries when Tank, who loved it rough and boarder line criminal, scooped his 165-pound frame up and spine bustered him onto the waiting bed.

“Jesus, Tank; don't kill the kid.!”  the effeminate assistant named Cedric yelled over the movie crews gasps of horror and occasional exclamations of 'Goddamn!' as Tank thrashed into his virgin ass without lube………..

……… “You’re crying baby; you want me to stop?” asked Daquel. “I'll stop right now, if I'm hurting you.”

“I'm fine,” lied Tyson, despite the tears in his eyes. “It just feels so good.”

Daquel planted kisses on Tyson's chest and neck as he began to move inside of him with the loving and gentle rhythm. …….

“Jesus Tank pull out; he's passed out!” pleaded Cedric.” Harold, call cut! We need to see if the kid is alive or dead, for Christ sake.”

“We need a money shot.” said Harold, callously.

Cedric thought he would lose his lunch as Tank continued to pound the bloody seemingly lifeless form for another seven minutes. The bed sheets already looked like a horror movie scene had been shot on them. How the fuck could tank not be worried about a stranger bleeding that much on his naked dick?

“AHHH!” roared Tank as he withdrew his mighty beast and sprayed the bloody ass and thighs of his victim with semen, which appeared pink from all the blood on his dick.

“Thank god it's over!” said Cedric, rushing to check for signs of life in the boy. Everyone else went about their work, as if they hadn't witnessed the anal massacre.

“Oh, thank God, he's still alive. Somebody help me get him to the green room.”

“The fuck you worried about him for?” sneered Tank. “The lil yella bitch wanted to fuck for money.” Without so much as a second glance, Tank went to take a shower.

“Somebody help me move him.” Pleaded Cedric. “Sal!” he called to the janitor,” You want twenty dollars, sugar? Help me move this kid to the back so I can clean up.”

“I'm no cleaning no bloody sheets two men make fucking on.” Said Sal.

“I didn't ask you to do that Sal. Here, here's twenty bucks. Just help me get this kid in the green room” ….

“Oh God, I'm going to cum, Tyson, I'm going to cum!” Screeched Daquel as he exploded into the condom.

 “I love you so much, Tyson. I wish that you would just be mine, and we could stop this fuck buddy shit. I love you.”

“I think we need to leave things the way they are,” said Tyson. “And don't love me.”

“How can I not; you're my perfect angel.”

“Stop saying that shit.”

“But you are. I can't imagine one bad thing about you, Ty; you're perfect.”

“Goddamn you!” roared Tyson, springing from the bed and turning on the computer.

“I’m fucken perfect?” he raged as he logged into the site. “Look!” he screamed once the video came up. “That's me, perfect assed me, fucking some guy I’d just met that day for money.”

“I don't get it.”

“I did it a couple of years ago.” Tyson was almost bragging. “I fucked and made enough money to buy my car, then I came back to this campus and made good grades, and joined the math club, and tutored other students, and stared fucking you, all under the guise that Tyson King was sweet and innocent. I almost bought my own bullshit until somebody gave me a reality check.”

“I can't believe this.” Tears welled up in Daquel's eyes.

“Oh, don't you dare cry, you fucken pussy! Cuss me out, call me names, try to kick my ass, if you think you can, but do not stand there and start crying.”

“I love you so much! Why did you have to show me this? I never had to see this. Why did you have to tarnish my image of you?''

“Goodbye, Daquel,” said Tyson. “I am human baby, and I don't think that's what you're looking for.”

Chapter Nine

Royale had just loaded the dish washer when there was a knock at the door. The last person he expected to be on the other side was Tyson, but there he was.

“It doesn't matter,” said Tyson. “There are no perfect people in this world.”

“Why don't you come in,” offered Royale. “I bet once you're inside, you'll start to make sense.”

“I came to say I'm sorry about how I acted the other day. I was so caught up in my own shame over what I'd done it never dawned on me that I may have given you the impression that I was looking down on you.”

“I did kind of get that impression.” admitted Royale.

“It's just that meeting you made me own up to some shit I thought I had buried away, and sometimes smelling your own shit can really make you sick.”

“Why did you do it?” asked Royale.

“I needed a car. And you; why do you do it?”

“Did,'' corrected Royale. “I quit about a week ago, and I was doing it 'because it was fast money.”

“I can't believe I thought that you were a rich kid.”

“I can't believe I kept up that lie for so long.”

“You will be surprised how long you can hold on to a lie, especially when you're mainly lying to yourself.”

“So, where do we go from here?” asked Royale

“Ain't it obvious?” said Tyson, acknowledging the tension in both of their pants.

“I'm no longer Kreame Royale.”

“Good, because he never turned me on, but I'm horny as hell for Royale Creamer.”

Chapter Ten

“No Porno Shit.” Said Royale, once they were both naked.

Royale traced Tyson's chest hair pattern with his tongue all the way down to his navel. Tyson groaned in anticipation of him going lower. What made it more thrilling was that, unlike Daquel, Royale didn't announce when he was going to do it; he just did it. Endorphins erupted like volcanos in Tyson’s brain when Royale would swallow his cock down to the hair then make it reappear harder and shinier each time, until he had reached its full capacity. Tyson erupted filling his lover's mouth with millions of babies that would never see the light of day. Royale had to calm him down; his orgasmic throes were so wild.

“Damn baby, make me feel like that,” said Royale laying back on the bed and holding up his rock-hard member.

Tyson didn't suck on it too long before he reached over onto the nightstand, got a rubber and placed it on Royale.

“You ready?” asked Royale generously lubing his wrapped dick.

Tyson mounted his staff and the rodeo ride began. Royale was the first to break the 'no porno shit' rule when he began to scream “Ride this dick nigga; bounce on that shit bitch!”

 Tyson didn't mind, because this was the way that he had always wanted it, not violent and callous the way his first time had been, and not boring and predictable the way he had settled into sex with Daquel.

“You like this red ass?” Tyson fired back. “Then fuck it like you mean it mutha fucka!”

It was on from there. Royale maneuvered Tyson into the doggy style position and proceeded to damn near tear his guts out while playfully nibbling on his ear. Tyson met him thrust for thrust, dirty word for dirty word, even when Royale laid him on his back and doubled him over till his ankles met his ears.

The next-door neighbor began pounding on the wall to silence the ruckus they were making as the headboard rammed into the wall and everything on the night stand shook. God only knew what was knocked down in the apartment next door.

Tyson could feel Royale's climax mounting, he could also feel the sear of naked skin scraping against naked skin.

 “Baby pull out. We ain't got a rubber between us no more.” He begged.

It was with reluctance, but Royale withdrew. God only knows when the condom had broken, but the remains clung around the base of Royale's prick, looking more like a freaky cock ring than a condom. Royale super soaked Tyson in his pearl shower, before crashing against his body.

 “Please, stay the night,” He begged Tyson.

“I hadn't intended to leave.”

They drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Eleven

“Damn, what smells good?” asked Tyson entering the kitchen.

Royale was at the stove in his boxers, tank top, and footie socks, stirring what appeared to be cheese grits, while sausages browned in a pan on the opposite eye.

 “Well, good morning, sleeping beauty”, he said, stealing a kiss, all the while stirring the grits. “Are you hungry?”

“Boy, good as that food smells, hell yeah! So, you can burn?”

“When you're the middle child, and Mom has to work, and you got a couple of younger siblings, you got to learn how to burn.”

“You come from a big family?”

“Seven kids.”

'Damn.'

“They're going to miss the extra money I was bringing in, but hey, I'll get a legit job 'cause I ain't doing porn no more, and I damn sure ain't selling no more dope.”

“Well that's good.”

“Oh, by the way, my cousin Mike will be out in a few weeks, so I'm not going to be here much longer. Once he's out, this place is going to be hot as a mother fucker.”

“So, what do you plan to do?”

“Mom's been dying for me to come home, so that's probably what I'll do, but we can still see each other. My folks know I'm gay.”

“But what about your future? You ever thought about getting your GED and enrolling in college?”

“I want to, Ty, but I heard they got trig on that shit now, and I really am not good in math.”

“Well” said Tyson, wrapping his arms around him. “Lucky for you there is a guy who is willing to tutor you for free.”

The End