Back Alley Again
“Back alley, near the garbage bins, at 1, black leather jacket, “Mike,” the message said. Lukas had always used his real name, so it bothered him that the guy didn’t even pretend he was giving him the right name. He always felt like guessing before he crossed paths with yet another guy—what would he look like? What would his cock taste and feel like? Would he be silent or would he moan and push deeper? The anonymous message board, they said, was dangerous to find partners, but Lukas loved a mystery and a small scare.
He glanced at his watch and finished the already flat beer. It was 0.57 and the garbage bins were just steps away from the back door of the bar. He looked around. Could it be perhaps that guy in a leather jacket? Tough, looks like a biker. Nope, heading the other way. Maybe this one? Ha ha, it’s not leather if that’s him. Nope again. That one disappeared in the bathroom.
Every time, every single time Lukas got hard before venturing outside for another random suck. His erection now was painfully pressing against the rough seam of his jeans. He tickled the cockhead and the dick responded with a pleasant shiver. What could he do? He loved it. He was fucking scared shitless every time but it made him tremble in anticipation. Dicks were of endless variety, he was still to see two that looked identical; he prided himself on being able to make every guy come.
The door creaked. He was out in the back alley again. It was now almost completely empty. There was a couple kissing right by the door, and the girl was touching the guy’s dick through his jeans. A drunk was staggering toward the bright lights of the street at the end of the back alley. The bums he had met earlier finished their late night snack and left, too. Oh, one more girl. Alone. Perhaps she was dumped. “Yeah, hi, good, yourself? Sorry, no, busy. Aha, see ya. Be safe.”
There was a tap on his back. He turned around.
“Lukas?”
“Y-yep. H-hi. M-m-mike?”
“You stutter?”
“Nope, it’s just you are…”
“What, unusual?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Fuck you, then.”
“No, no, stay. Sorry, man. It’s cool. It’s cool. Stay. I was just thinking…”
“I’ll sit on that box over there. Give me a lift?”
“Sure. Wow, you’re light!”
“Not for you to weigh me. So hey, wanna do it?”
“Yeah. Twenty?”
“Depends.”
“Promise?”
“Okay.”
The zipper hissed. Mike lifted his butt off the box he was sitting on, and the jeans and his white briefs fell down, pooling at his dangling feet.
“I talk, is that cool with you?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll cuss you, but don’t take it personal. I’ll ask you questions, you don’t have to answer. I’ll laugh at you, but it’s not at YOU, okay?”
“Yeah.”
The dick was unexpectedly huge. A good seven inches, venous, thick, with an uneven circumcision scar, the mushroom head slightly wrinkly.
“So what, fucker? Want to suck me off? You low fucking scum.”
Lukas touched his lips to the thick mushroom head.
“Yeah, kiss it first. What a pathetic loser. Lo-ser. Lo-ser.”
Lukas’s lips engulfed the head. It tasted fresh; Mike thrust his hips upward suddenly, and his foot kicked Lukas straight on the balls.
“Ouch, you crazy?! What the fucking hell?...”
“What, sensitive?”
The hard dick hit Lukas’s cheek, the small hands grabbed Lukas’s hair.
“Don’t even fucking try nothing weird.”
“No, but fuck, don’t fucking kick again.”
“We’ll see by your performance, fucker.”
The heavy hard dick hit his face again.
“Growing fucking tall isn’t everything, is it, you pathetic wretch?”
The small hands in Lukas’s hair guided him.
Slurp.
He swallowed as deep as he could, and his nose touched the wiry hair on Mike’s pubis.
“Aaagh!”
He nearly choked because Mike thrust up again, and gave him a slap on the cheek.
“Let me deeper, you!”
Lukas swallowed, and Mike’s feet drummed on the box he was sitting on.
“Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh fucking hell, yeah…. Aaah.”
Slurp, slide, slurp, slide. Two more face slaps that sounded like cracks of thunder in the silence.
“Don’t you fucking do that!”
“Shut up, who is sucking who, you low piece of scum.”
Slurp, slide.
“Ouch! Don’t you bite!”
“I am not biting.”
“Bitch, it hurt! Lips only.”
Two more face slaps.
“Faster. Tongue.”
Lukas followed orders because the hands in his hair, the feet near his groin, and the unexpected face slaps suddenly lit up that hidden fire he didn’t know he would feel.
Mike’s dick was clean and hard, his clothes smelled fresh, and he looked—as far as Lukas could see—as a middle class professional. But Lukas wouldn’t be too much surprised if there was a knife in his pocket, either.
“Ah, bitch, more tongue.”
Slap. “Why are you so pathetic, bitch? Huh?”
A dangerous swing of the foot but just a feather-light touch to his groin.
“Excited, huh… Oh fuck you are just a piece of faggy trash.”
Slurp… Suddenly Lukas wanted to lick him, not suck him—around the circumcision scar, over the slick head, and just a bit of… teeth… yeah, you like it, you like it…
“Aaah. More. But be careful, you.”
More of that grazing that gave men so much pleasure.
“Oh, fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck…”
A series of five rapid thrusts made Lukas gag again and again. The cockhead hit the roof of his mouth again and again, and then he found himself swallowing, his nose again in the slightly moist pubic bush…
“Ah, shit, shit, shit!”
A suddenly powerful swing of the little foot, and -- “Ouch!! What the fuck!”
“Take—it—like—a--man!” – the small hand finished what Lukas’s mouth had started and three streaks of cum painted his forehead and the hairline, while Lukas was clutching his poor balls after another strong kick.
“Fuck you.”
“Nah, come on, you did well. Here.”
The money rustled, folded into Lukas’s pocket.
“Help me down.”
Lukas sighed and helped Mike down.
The dwarf looked at him again, his eyes shining in the darkness.
“Sorry, I really am. I lose it. Let’s do it again.”
“Nope, sorry.”
“You’ll change your mind. Call me.”
When Lukas walked back into the bar, wincing slightly from the pain in his balls, he slid his hand into the pocket and took out the folded bill. It was a 50 dollar note.
“Nah, fuck you. Not again.”
Lukas blocked Mike’s contact and went to get another beer.
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