Author's Note:
Sorry it took so long to upload anything new. I was working on a story when my computer crashed [Always back up your work!] I'm working on other stories, but I wrote this one just to remind myself that I could finish one. Hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think! Constructive criticism is always helpful.
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"I'm not a prostitute," I told myself as I rounded the corner and began to walk the length of Avenue B, also known as "Boys Avenue". I was just horny, and I had been told that this was where you go to find guys to have sex with- at a price.
Being on the verge of homelessness, I didn't have many suitors, and certainly didn't have the money to pay for sex. So, I devised a plan to work Avenue B, and have some consensual sex with a few strangers who were as hard up as I was. I had no plan to charge any of them, so I wasn't a prostitute. I was just horny.
Beginning where the short street dead ended, Avenue B looked deserted. I walked uncertainly down the black topped street until I noticed a guy hanging out on a well-lit street corner. I recognized him from my days of living in the city shelter, but I didn't know his name or much about him. All I really knew was how attractive he was.
He had dark brown hair and soft brown eyes that looked sad and hopeless. He was a large man, with broad shoulders. I only saw him when we were waiting to be processed for a bed for the night. I don't even know if he stayed the night, or if he was just in line for dinner. He had the look of a man who preferred to beat the shit out of fags like me, so I only stole occasional glances his way. Now, here we both were, and I wondered why he was there, what his motives for being in such a place might be. I just didn't know if I had the balls to ask him.
As I approached, I saw a look I took for disgust cross his face, and planned to just keep walking without acknowledging him, but the closer I got, the more aware I was that he was watching me.
"I know you," he said. I was surprised to see him smiling at me. The street light cast him in a glow that highlighted his dark features.
"You do?" I asked, pleased that he might have noticed me, even as I stole my glances at him.
"Yeah," he nodded, "You used to stay at the shelter, didn't you? Only I haven't seen you around in a while."
"I got lucky on a long day labor ticket, so I got a room at a cheap hotel," I explained, "I've been doing good at keeping up with my rent with subsequent jobs."
"So, what are you doing out here?"
"I ran out of luck and the jobs dried up," I lied. In truth, I had another two hundred dollars saved up to cover my rent for an extra week, if need be. I was conscious of the fact that the unpredictability of day labor jobs and rainy days were the deciding factors of whether or not I kept a roof over my head. "Why are you out here? You never struck me as the kind of guy who would do this sort of thing."
"Well, sometimes you have to do things you normally wouldn't, if you know what I mean."
"Yeah, I understand that." I looked up and down the street, aware there had been no passing cars, even as other guys began to appear on street corners further up the street.
"I'm Houston," he told me, extending his big hand to me. I was well aware that Houston was giving me his street name. Most homeless people do that. I reasoned he was probably from Houston, hence the moniker, just as mine reflected the color of my hair.
"I'm Red," I told him, taking his hand in a brief handshake. "What are you selling?" I asked curiously.
"Cock, and nothing but," Houston answered, "I'll give it to you any way you want, but that's all I'm selling. What about you?"
"Oh, I'm gay. So, I'll give up anything a guy wants."
"Triple threat," he said, wincing, "And you're new meat, so you're probably going to be popular tonight."
"I hope so," I told him, starting to move away, walking further down the street, "If I make enough, maybe I'll come back and do some buying of my own."
"Fifty for a blow job, a hundred for a fuck," he told me. My mouth watered with the knowledge that I had enough in my room to get the full treatment, if I was stupid enough to give it to him.
"I'll keep that in mind," I called back to him as I went in search of my own corner. I had no idea of what I was doing. I hoped that all I had to do was show up.
A couple of blocks away him, I stopped and lit a cigarette. I was about half finished with it when a middle-aged Latino in a compact pulled up to the curb. He leaned across the front seat to roll down the window manually.
"Hey," I greeted him as I leaned into the window.
"You give blow jobs?" he asked. I was surprised at how straight forward he was.
"Sure, I'll suck you off," I told him, "But I'm no prostitute." I got into the car with him. "I'm just horny, and I figured this was the easiest way of getting some dick."
"Well, I've got some dick for you," he told me as he pulled away and turned the corner. He stopped at a red light and unfastened his pants, pulling his thick brown cock into view.
"Oooh, foreskin," I cooed delightedly at the sight of the uncut six inches that stood from his lap. I took it in hand and played with the foreskin a bit before lowering my head into his lap. He readjusted himself in his seat to give me better access, then took off down the street. I had always wanted to give car head, and now was my chance.
I took the head into my mouth and teased his foreskin with my tongue before sliding my lips down his shaft. I sucked him hard, pulling his foreskin up and down over the head of his cock as I sucked him as deep into my mouth as I could in such an awkward position.
"Oh, that's good, baby," he whispered, "Suck my dick."
I was just getting into a comfortable position when his cum erupted into my mouth. I worked hard to swallow all of his load, then cleaned his cock of anything I might have missed.
"Very nice," I told him as I sat back into my seat.
"Thanks", he said, leaving his cock exposed as he circled around to return me to my corner. "I really needed that. My wife is pregnant, and she doesn't like sucking dick."
"So, you went looking for a guy to suck you off?"
"It would be cheating if I had a girl do it." He reasoned.
In no time, we were back where we started, and I was crawling out of the car. He stopped me with a hand on my shoulder, stuffing a folded bill into my hand. I was going to protest, but decided he was doing it for his own reasons, knowing that I wasn't charging him. I didn't look at it until he sped away. It was a twenty.
"Easiest money I ever made," I told myself, "And the most fun I've had working. Maybe there's something to this line of work I should reconsider."
I stuffed the twenty into a pocket and looked down the street. Houston was still there, waiting for some lucky son of a bitch to pick him up.
It wasn't long before a middle-aged white guy in a late model pick up pulled along the curb.
"Get in," he told me as he opened the door for me. I did as he instructed and sat quietly in the seat while he drove away. "I'm just looking for someone to play with," he told me, "I'll pay you well, but you have to do exactly as I say. Understand?"
"I understand," I answered him obediently.
He drove to a motel a little way up the strip, parked and killed the engine. Without a word, he hopped out of the truck and headed for one of the rooms. I quickly followed suit.
"Strip," he commanded after shutting the door. "These are the rules. I only want to play with you, have my way with you, and you are not going to get hard while I do it. Semi-erect is okay, but no full erections. Do you understand?"
"I'm not really charging..."
"And no talking. No offense, but I don't like your voice. You sound too much like a girl."
I finished shedding my clothes, feeling humiliated at the slur against my voice, despite my own dislike of it. Standing before him, naked as the day I was born, he walked around me, checking out the goods.
"I love you young, skinny guys," he told me, talking as if he were critiquing a painting. "So natural, so untouched by ego." He ran his fingers across my flat chest, stopping to play with one of my nipples. "You have large areolas. Has anyone ever told you that?" I opened my mouth to answer then shut it again and shook my head no. "Well done," he commented, offering me a smile as he rolled my nipple gently between his thumb and forefinger, shocking my body with little jolts of pleasure. "Look at how large your erect nipple is." I didn't look.
He took a step back and dropped his pants, revealing a cock, about seven inches, like mine, but thicker- so thick it looked abnormal. I tore my eyes away, remembering that I wasn't allowed to get hard, certain that the continued sight of his thick dick, combined with my own horniness, would do the trick. I started counting the ceiling tiles instead.
"I've never played with a redhead before," he told me, "I'd ask if it was natural, but I can see for myself that the carpet matches the drapes." This, for some reason made me feel humiliated. I never liked it when I was hit on by a guy simply because he had a thing for red heads
He stood close to me, nuzzling his nose into the crook of my neck as he took my balls and limp dick into one hand and began rolling them around in his palm. I could tell he was slowly jacking his cock with his other hand. I became fascinated with the ugly pattern of the bedspread on the bed behind him.
