Degradation

I should have known that it was only a matter of time before I was kicked out of the club. I had been hitting on guys all night, trying desperately to get some dick; either in my ass or down my throat, I didn’t care which. I was drunker than hell as usual; not just drunk, but sloppy, annoying drunk. Rubbing up against guys, falling all over them because I was too inebriated to stand up, making obnoxious and unwanted advances and even grabbing crotches. Finally, after several of the patrons complained, I was politely asked to leave by one of the bouncers. I told him to go fuck himself and with one powerful swipe of his forearm, he knocked me off the barstool onto the floor. He didn’t even have the decency to march me out the front door. He dragged me across the floor to the back of the club, his muscled arm wrapped around my upper torso in an iron grip and I was so drunk that I couldn’t even fight back. Everyone that we passed looked at me with disgust and some even applauded the fact that I was getting thrown out. He kicked open the door to a large alcove that opened onto the back alley and then threw me across the threshold with all the force he could muster. I landed in a pile of trash bags and empty liquor boxes, then rolled over and ended up on the ground, face first in the dirt and grime. I heard the bouncer say, “Don’t ever let me catch you in here again!” as he slammed the door shut behind him.

It was winter of 1985. Reagan was in the White House so it was a bad time to be gay. I was twenty four years old and had come out to my very wealthy and ultra conservative parents at age 19. My father was a Wall Street investment banker and my mother was prominent in the upper class charity circuit. I’ll never forget the calculating look on their faces when I told them. It was almost as if they already knew and just needed to figure out what to do with me. They were die hard Republicans, so there was no room in their lives and especially in their social circle for a queer son. However kicking me out of their home and onto the streets wouldn’t look good either. Finally they made me an offer. They would set up a trust fund for me to live on for the rest of my life. In return, I would leave New York and never come back. Having been kicked out of college for excessive drinking and sexual misconduct, my future prospects looked grim at the time, so I agreed. I found a condo in Miami Beach and was gone in less than two months. I don’t know how they explained my disappearance to their upper class friends and I honestly don’t care. I’ve been an alcoholic and an unrepentant cock slut ever since. I was still young and handsome. But basically a drunk and a whore.

I lifted myself off the ground so that I was on my hands and knees and tried to wipe the dirt and grit from my face. I felt a stinging sensation across my left cheek; I had probably scraped it when I hit the ground. I thought I was going to throw up, but the feeling passed and I stood up shakily, then the drunkenness overtook me again and I fell down, landing hard on my ass, the pain radiating up my spine, though dulled somewhat by the liquor. I didn’t even try to get up again, just barely managed to scoot my ass backward until I was resting against the alcove wall next to the alley and sat there, angry that they had kicked me out of the club just for trying to get some cock. A bar full of uppity gay men and not one of them would fuck me. Snobby assholes. I would have been happy with sucking one of them off in the bathroom, but no, I was too drunk for them. So now I was in a dimly lit, filthy, garbage filled alcove that stunk of discarded booze and cat urine, wearing only a t-shirt and jeans, dealing with the late night chill of a colder than average south Florida winter. “Fuck you bitches!” I yelled suddenly at the back door, even though nobody could hear me. The narrow alley beyond the alcove was quiet and deserted, so I just continued to sit there, my ass on the dirty concrete, legs out in front of me, head hung low, feeling sorry for myself and still fucked up from all the liquor.

“You okay man?” I heard a voice say. I looked up and around wildly; who the fuck had said that? I scanned the area and saw the shadowy outline of a man sitting in a darkened far corner of the alcove, directly opposite of where I was sitting, who appeared to be staring at me with cautious interest. “Who the fuck are you?” I asked, slurring my words heavily. “Nobody special,” he said as he got up and slowly walked towards me, becoming more visible in the faint light. He was obviously homeless, wearing several layers of dark clothes that looked ragged, stained and torn. He looked to be in his early forties, with dirty blond hair that was greasy, unkempt and hanging over his forehead, almost covering his eyes. His face was dirty with a few scars and he looked like he hadn’t shaved in years; his facial hair was matted and looked like it contained the remnants of his last meal. His eyes looked bloodshot, but it was hard to tell in the dim light. His gutter trash appearance combined with the poor light had caused him to blend in with the garbage around him, which is why I hadn’t noticed him before. Because he was still several feet away from me, I only caught a brief whiff of his stench.

“Why’d they throw you out man?” he asked. “Because I’m too fucked up!” I said loudly, spraying spittle as I did, “too fucked up.” I hung my head again, muttering to myself, “Just wanted some cock man, just wanted some fucking cock.” There was a brief silence and I could hear him shuffling from side to side, like he was pondering something, then I heard him say, “Shit man, for ten bucks you can suck my cock.” Those words lit a spark in my alcohol soaked brain and I looked up at him pathetically and asked, “Really?” He laughed and said, “Fuck yeah, really.” I crawled over to him on my hands and knees because it was easier than trying to stand up again. “Lemme see,” I muttered drunkenly, pointing to his groin, “please lemme see.” He laughed again, then unzipped his filthy, torn pants and pulled out a huge, floppy cock and a hefty set of balls. I crawled closer to him and as I did his disgusting body odor suddenly filled my nose; it was so acrid and foul that it brought tears to my eyes, but I wanted cock so fucking badly that I didn’t care whose I sucked or how dirty it was. God his cock was so fucking big; it had to be eight inches at least and was thick and fleshy with a gorgeous mushroom head.  

I reached frantically for my wallet and yes, I had a ten dollar bill in there. I put my wallet back in my pocket, then handed him the bill. He tucked it away in an inner pocket, then took out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up. He took a long drag, then exhaled. He looked down at me and then pointed to his cock. “Well go on man, suck it,” he said, what are you waiting for?” I took that hefty piece of meat in my mouth and swallowed it down as far as I could go. I gagged immediately from the rancid taste of accumulated sweat and filth on his cock and I had to turn to the side and spit out the foulness before I continued. I took him in my mouth again and could feel him getting hard, his manhood swelling in my mouth. I looked up at him and he was staring down at what I was doing, a cocky grin on his face. “Damn man,” he said, “that actually feels good. Yeah, keep sucking it,” and I obeyed, relaxing my throat like the whore that I was so I could take him all the way down. His pubic hair was wild, thick and stunk like the rest of him did, but the pleasure of having that monster cock filling my mouth overrode my disgust at his rotten smell. I sucked him like I was starving, slobbering over every inch, spit dripping down my chin. He was rock hard now, and I could hear him moaning with pleasure as his cock throbbed like a beast. “Oh fuck yeah,” I heard him say in a low voice, “that’s nice man, god damn you’re gonna make me cum soon.”

His cock was pulsing like crazy now, but I stopped sucking before he could cum and looked up at him, thinking that he might do more if I gave him more money.  “Why’d you stop man?” he asked as he tossed his cigarette away. “Please fuck me man,” I begged, “please, I need to get fucked, please fuck me.” He gave me a look of disgust, so I reached for my wallet again and showed him that I had more cash. “I got at least a hundred dollars here. You can have it all,” I said, “just fuck me please.” I knew I sounded pathetic, but I wanted that cock in my ass because I was a drunk, horny slut and his cock was so big that I had to have it up my hole. I reached into my front pocket and pulled out the small bottle of lube that I always carry and started to slather his cock with it. He gave me a hateful look, but didn’t resist. I felt his monster tool get even harder and I turned around and got up against the wall, dropping my jeans and underwear, exposing my ass to him. I put some lube up my hole and turned to look at him. “Please man, you need the money and I need dick. Fuck me, fuck me now,” and he let out a muttered growl, “Fucking faggot,” got behind me and shoved his rock hard cock up my ass in one violent thrust.

I winced from the immediate pain, but then his entire cock was in my ass and I felt nothing but pleasure. He started fucking me like an animal, shoving that huge dick in and out of my asshole like he was raping me. I spread my legs apart so he could fuck me even deeper and he pounded away, grunting like an ape, his foul smell everywhere around me now, but all I cared about was that I was getting fucked, that I had cock in my ass. He was fucking me in full view of the back alley; anyone walking by would have seen us, but it was very late and there was no one about and I didn’t care if anyone saw us. I felt his dirty hands gripping my waist as he pumped my hole, felt the dirt, sweat and grit against my skin. I felt my own cock getting hard now; god I loved to get fucked more than anything. His huge monster dick filled every possible space in my slutty fuck hole and I loved it, I fucking loved it. I reached down and started jacking off, stroking my dick while he pounded my ass harder and harder. His rock hard cock, the wild pace of his fucking and his low moans of pleasure made me dimly aware, even in my drunken state, that he was actually enjoying what he was doing to me. The savagery of his fucking was like nothing I had ever experienced before.

He was fucking me even faster now, the stench of him almost overwhelming me now, his grunts and moans getting louder, gradually forming words, “Gonna fucking cum in you, fucking faggot, yeah gonna cum, oh fuck yeah!” and he shoved his cock all the way in my asshole, his body stiffened and I felt his first load of hot spunk spew into my fuckhole as he started pumping again. I could feel his cock throb with every load of cum that he shot inside me as he kept thrusting, tearing my ass up while I continued to stroke my own hard cock. His kept fucking me until his tool eventually grew limp and as he pulled out of my hole, I felt his cum leak out and drip down onto my balls. I was still working my own cock because I was so fucking horny when suddenly he shoved me violently to the ground. I landed in a pile of trash, tried to stand back up, but was only able to manage sitting on the ground against the alcove wall, my jeans and briefs still around my ankles, my bare ass mired in the dirt and grit.

My cock was still hard and I wanted to cum, so I started jacking off, but he spit on me and said, “Give me the fucking money faggot!” In my drunken stupor, I had forgotten what I had promised him. I pulled my wallet from my jeans, struggled to open it and gave him all the money I had. He snatched the cash from my outstretched hand and tucked it away somewhere in his filthy, ragged clothes. He looked down at me with an ugly sneer and muttered, “Fucking queer,” under his breath. I ignored him, leaned back against the concrete wall with my eyes closed and started to stroke my cock again. I was about ready to cum when I felt a warm stream of liquid hit my shirt. I opened my eyes and he was still standing there with his cock out, pissing on me and laughing. I was still so drunk and so desperate to cum that I just sat there and continued to beat off while he sprayed urine all over me, even getting some in my face and hair. As the piss stream slowed to a trickle, I suddenly shot my load all over myself, fresh cum mixing with fresh piss, my shirt now a soggy, stinking mess. I shot several times before my cock went limp and even in my fucked up state, the feeling was awesome. I kept stroking my dick like mad until I went soft and the exquisite feeling faded. There was cum on my hand and I licked it off, oblivious to the fact that I was licking his piss also.

Finally I looked up and realized that he was gone. I managed to stand up, my jeans and underwear still bunched around my ankles and looked out into the alley, but he had disappeared. I got myself together more or less, pulling up my jeans and underwear, then took off my t-shirt so that I could use the still dry back side of it to wipe the piss from my face. As I left the alcove and started down the alley, I felt the rest of his cum load spurt from my hole and soak my underwear. I stumbled and shuffled my way around the block to the front of the club, then crossed the street to the lot on the other side where my car was parked, ignoring the disgusted looks of the people who walked past me. I managed to make it home without getting pulled over by the cops or wrecking my car. I took the elevator up to the tenth floor of the Art Deco building on Collins Avenue where I lived. I stumbled down the hallway to my condo, struggled to get the door open, then collapsed into my bed in a drunken stupor, still in my damp clothes and passed out cold.

I woke up the next morning, the sun hurting my eyes as it streamed unhindered through the open blinds, which reminded me once again that I shouldn’t have gotten a unit that faced east. I rolled out of bed, hungover, and quickly shut the blinds. I looked around the room for a bottle of liquor to help deal with my hangover and yeah, there was my liter bottle of Bacardi on the nightstand, still almost full. I gulped some down, felt somewhat better and chugged down some more. Nothing like the hair of the dog to cure a hangover. I set the bottle back down and collapsed back into bed. I was suddenly aware that I smelled like piss and cum and the memory of last night slowly came back. That homeless guy was disgusting, but he sure had a big cock and that was all that mattered as far as I was concerned. I remembered him fucking me up against the wall of that filthy alcove off that alley and my cock started to get hard.

I stripped off my jeans, t-shirt and underwear quickly, letting my boner free and started stroking it like mad. I wanted another cock fucking my ass so badly, right here, right now. My dildo would have to do for now. I pulled it out of the nightstand drawer along with the big bottle of lube that I kept there. The dildo was huge, eight inches long and thick as hell, molded from some straight porn star whose name I’ve long since forgotten. I covered the first three fingers of my left hand with lube and shoved them up my ass. I was still a little sore down there from last night, but I was horny and didn’t care. I made sure my hole was nice and wet, then I slathered lube on the dildo and used my right hand to ram it up my ass. The pain was immediate, but so was the pleasure and I started jacking my cock with my left hand while fucking myself with my right. I shoved the dildo in and out of my hole violently like a man possessed, wishing it was a real man fucking me, cramming it in as far as it would go, hurting myself in the process, but just happy to have a cock, even a fake one, tearing up my ass. I fucked myself for about ten minutes or so until I felt the familiar tingling in my shaft, my balls churning and as I cried out in ecstasy, I shot a huge load of cum all over my stomach and my chest, the hot, sticky mess mixing with the dried piss and cum from last night. I kept stroking my dick while raping myself with the dildo, getting every last drop of semen out of my balls. I licked the cum from my left hand. Finally there was none left, my cock went limp and I slowly pulled the dildo from my sore hole.

I got up from the bed, picked up the bottle of rum, and then headed to the bathroom to piss, drinking even more as I did so. When I finished, I looked at my face in the mirror, disgusted with the haggard wreck of a man that I saw gazing back at me, loathing myself for being such a slut that I would beg that foul man to fuck me last night and yet knowing that tonight I would be out roaming the streets of South Beach, looking to get fucked in the ass again. I wouldn’t stop until I was dead, which was bound to be soon at the rate I was going. To hell with those assholes from the club. I didn’t need them. There was cock to be found in public bathrooms, so long as you weren’t picky over what kind of man it was attached to and a slut like myself didn’t care, so long as I was getting fucked. I went back to my bed, still drinking rum straight from the bottle; it was over half empty and I felt myself slipping into a drunken state again, so I got back in bed, capped the bottle and let it drop on the floor on top of my soiled pile of clothes. Yeah, I thought to myself, go out tonight and get fucked again, cock in my ass, that’s all that matters, just cock, nothing else and then the liquor overtook me as I slipped into unconsciousness and was gone.