(The story continues, this is part 3, so if you haven't read part 1 & 2, you should before you read this. CAUTION: there is graphic violence in this part.)
*
The mist of dreams surrounded him as he became the spectator of the dream-scape. It was a dimly lit plane room with several men around a small round topped wooden table. Cigar and cigarette smoke filled the air and drifted in grey clouds around the one bulb lamp hanging on a single 3 foot cord from the ceiling over the center of the table. Beer bottles and shot glasses sat near the ash trays filled with ashes and butts in front of each player at the table. Crumpled hundred dollar bills piled in varying amounts revealed who at the table was winning. He was a stout man, probably in his 30s or 40s, with his head shaved, but his beard wasn't as the stubble of black beard hair darkened his cheeks and chin. He wasn't wearing a shirt so his strong hairy chest could be seen. There was a knife slash scar across his left breast. His thick fingered hands held his cards above his pile of money. He looked at his cards, then at each face around the table as he chewed on the stub of a cigar in his mouth. The rumble of a train passing caused the light to swing a bit so that the shadows danced behind each person on the dirty floor and paint flaked grey walls.
"Okay ass holes, lets see who can beat this hand." The burley man tossed 10 bills onto the middle of the table, leaned back a bit putting his cigar onto the ash tray and smiled an evil smile. The bottle of Tequila was almost empty when he picked it up and downed it one gulp.
Across the table from him sat Marty, obviously not doing as well since there where only a few more than 10 bills in front of him on the table. He nervously looked around and thumbed his cards. The poker faces of each man at the table revealed nothing to him. He paused for a moment before he took the shot of whiskey waiting for him there next to his money. "Oh, what the hell," he said as he threw all his money into the pot. He looked around at each face again as one by one they threw their cards on the table.
"Okay, punk." the burly man said with a sneer, "I'll see what ya got." He matched the money Marty had thrown into the pot. "Throw em down boy."
Marty laid his cards out in front of him face up which revealed an Ace high straight. He didn't say anything as he looked deeply into the mans dark brown eyes.
"Sorry, fuck up, you loose!" he said with a loud laugh after he threw his cards face up onto the table. There where 4 aces and a joker.
A look of rage came over Marty's face, the muscles in his body tensed like a spring compressed ready to spring in one swift motion. Without a word, in one swift motion, Marty sprang out of his chair lunging with a shiny blade in his hand towards the throat of the burly man. Before anyone knew what was happening, blood spewed from the cut throat onto the table, pile of money and everyone around the table. The burly man fell backwards with his hands on this throat, a gurgling sound of him trying to say something while the blood spurt through his fingers. His body convulsed involuntarily before falling into the darkness on the floor.
With a jerk, Justin awoke from the nightmare. He sat up for a moment shaken by the dream, then quickly laid back down, pulling the covers over himself again and uneasily fell back to sleep.
- - -
"Justin! Are you going to sleep the day away?" Cindy called to him from the kitchen.
Justin peeled the covers away from his face, rolled onto his side and slowly opened his eyes to see the time on the clock revealed it was 8:15 a.m. He snuggled his pillow for a moment before replying to his Mom in a loud voice, "Yeah."
"Come on, breakfast is getting cold."
Justin's hard dick tented his underwear as he threw back the covers and sprang out of bed. As he stood up at the side of the bed, he stretched, rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, then looked down at his bulging underwear. He pulled down the front of his shorts and took his hard dick into this hand and stroked it a couple of times. He had to take a piss really bad, so he returned his dick to his shorts and headed to the bathroom.
"I'm up, be there in a minute." he said as he went through is bedroom door towards the bathroom. By the time he got to the bathroom, his hard-on had somewhat faded, he stood before the toilet lifted the lid and seat, remove his cock from his shorts and held it pointing it at the water in the toilet. His piss came rushing out making a loud sound as it hit the toilet water. Ah, that felt good. What a relief. When he was done, he pulled back the foreskin revealing the head of his dick and shook it a few times to empty the last drops of piss. He flushed, then washed his hands and face in the warm running water of the sink. The soft face towel next to the sink was freshly washed and felt good on his face. He looked at himself in the mirror above the sink while he picked up his comb and combed his hair. After finishing brushing his teeth he headed back to his room to get dressed.
It was going to be another warm day, so he chose a blue and white wide stripped tank top shirt and faded cut off jeans to wear.
He walked barefoot into the kitchen where Cindy was standing in front of the stove cooking some pancakes. He came up beside her and gave her a small kiss on the cheek. "Good morning Mom."
"Good morning dear, sit down, this will be ready in a minute."
Justin pulled one of the 2 chairs at the table out and sat down in front of a plate which held steaming scrambled eggs, 2 strips of bacon and some home made hash brown potatoes. He took the salt shaker and sprinkled some on his eggs and potatoes, then did the same with the pepper shaker.
