Tales From the Street

Another true story from my days of homelessness. As with all of these stories, I'm using the street names of the people involved, to protect their identities.

***

It wasn't long after I started staying at the city shelter that I met Honcho, a thirtyish Latino fresh out of prison. He was tall and built like a brick wall, with a boyish face and kind eyes. I don't remember how we met exactly, but I do recall that very little time past before I was servicing him, taking his seven-inch dick up the ass and sucking him off every chance I got. We were together a couple of months, and I was sure I was in love. What can I say? I was young and had never had a boyfriend before.

Then he started running with Casanova, a handsome Latino he somehow knew from his old neighborhood. Casanova was suave and sexy, always chatting up girls he met on the street. He had that whole Latin lover thing going for him in spades, and a pair of sultry green eyes you couldn't stop looking at. The fact that he was homeless and staying in shelters didn't seem to bother any of those girls. He was that hot.

Casanova knew about other, smaller shelters and service organizations that he clued us in on. He and Honcho would sometimes stay out, leaving me at the city shelter for the night while they had their "boys night". I was sure, with Honcho's prison history, that they were up to no good, but they didn't fill me in on what was going on and I didn't ask.

One night, Honcho informed me that we weren't staying at the shelter. Casanova had a place he and Honcho crashed at when they stayed out, and he wanted me to join them. It was an old, abandoned house, so we held off going there until just before nightfall. Once we were in, we were in until morning. Although the two of them entered the place after nightfall, Honcho said it was hazardous in some places, and he didn't want to chance I got hurt. That made me relax about the whole situation, knowing he would protect me.

So, we entered just as the sun was setting, when the light was gray, and the street lights were flickering on. We climbed in through a window that was boarded up, but not very securely, so you could lift it away to crawl in. After we were all inside the dark building, which smelled of urine, and god knows what else, we climbed the stairs to what must have been a bedroom at one time. There, Casanova had makeshift beds with blankets, and we settled in for the night. We stayed up for a while, talking about nothing, often with Honcho and Casanova speaking in Spanish.

Time came for us to sleep, and I lay down with Honcho on our bed, snuggling into him in the pitch darkness. Honcho kissed me for a while, then pushed my head toward his crotch. I knew my cue and set about freeing his cock. I sucked him for a while, relishing the feel of his foreskin in my mouth. I played with it, tongued it, held it over the head and sucked on it like a lollipop. I deep throated his cock, making it slick with saliva, knowing from past experiences what would come next.

Honcho pulled me up to him and kissed me again while I shimmied out of my pants. He climbed on top of me and slipped his spit slick cock into me, fucking me hard. I loved the rough nature of his fucking, straight forward and to the point. There was nothing fancy about the way he fucked. I was often left with an ass full of his cum and the certainty that he only fucked me with the intent of busting a nut. I was okay with that. I just wished he was a little more intimate about it.

After a good ass pounding, he came inside me and pulled out, rolling off me to pull his pants up. I pulled mine up to, then snuggled up next to him.

"Go take care of Casanova," Honcho told me.

"What?" I asked, stunned and confused. I was sure I hadn't heard him right.

"You heard me," he huffed, "Go show him a good time." Honcho pushed me away from him.

"No," I insisted. I was totally devoted to him, and thought this might be a test of loyalty, to see if I would cheat on him. I would never do that.

"Go!" he insisted, pushing me hard enough to send me rolling away from him. "Either way, you may as well go to him, because you're not sleeping with me until you do."

Confused and blind in the darkness, I started crawling to Casanova, calling out his name in a weird version of Marco Polo. I finally found him, his hand finding mine to pull me toward him. I ran my hands over his body, searching for the fly in his pants. He caught my hand to stop me.

"You don't have to do that," he whispered to me, "Just lie down here and sleep with me."

I debated Casanova's proposal with Honcho's insistence that I wouldn't sleep with him again if I didn't. I unfastened his pants and freed his dick, taking the flaccid flesh into my mouth to work him to erection. Even though I couldn't see it, I could tell that Casanova was a little bigger than Honcho was. Under other circumstances, I might have been delighted, but I was only doing this to make Honcho happy. I sucked Casanova's dick in the darkness, bobbing my head above his prone body, listening to his breathing as it became more rapid, edging on moaning. There was nothing special about the blow job I gave him. I just wanted to get him off so I could go back to Honcho.

He sat up and moved, pulling me down. I pulled off my pants when he lay me on my back, then he rested my legs on his shoulders and pushed his thickness into me. My breath caught as I confirmed he was bigger than Honcho, feeling my ass stretch a little around him. He drove his length into me and began fucking me.

I don't know if it was his size, or the fact that I was thoroughly lubed with Honcho's nut, or if he was just that damn good in bed, but Casanova fucked me so well that to this day he was one of the best sexual experiences of my life.

Once he was inside me, he lowered my legs and I wrapped them around his waist. He lay atop me, supporting his weight on his elbows, kissing me deeply while he fucked me hard, nibbled on my ear and sucked on my neck while he ground his pelvis in to me. I yelped with delight when he rammed into me hard, moaned when he stroked in and out long and slow, screamed out his name and totally forgot there was another person in the room when he fucked me furiously. By the time he came in me, mixing his seed with Honcho's, I was half out of my mind and completely focused on the man I couldn't see. He remained on top of me after he finished, kissing me while his cock slowly deflated and slipped out of me on its own accord. I clinched my sphincter hard to prevent his cum from leaking out, not wanting to lose it.

After we separated, I shakily found my pants and pulled them back on. I went commando because I couldn't find my underwear. As I moved to find my way back to Honcho, Casanova grabbed my arm and pulled me down to lie next to him. I fell asleep in the soft embrace of his arms, his body spooning mine.

In the morning, Honcho acted as if nothing had happened, but Casanova was a little on edge. I was worried he was upset that he fucked me the night before, that he wished he hadn't. As is usually the case, due to my fucked up up-bringing, I internalized his problem, making it my own.

"He doesn't love you," Casanova told me when we were alone. Honcho had gone to the bathroom. "He's just using you. He wants to turn you out."

"I don't know what that means."

"He's grooming you, so he can pimp your ass out for money. I'm the first guy he's forced you to have sex with, but I won't be the last. Once you stop resisting him, he'll have you out on the avenue selling you to any guy who will pay for it. And it'll be an easy sell, too. You look like a little kid."

"What do I do?" I asked him, thinking I could salvage my relationship with Honcho. At the time, I didn't know the difference between love and lust, and lust is sometimes the stronger of emotions.

"You get away from him, or you do as he wants."

"But where am I going to go? Every place I know where to eat or sleep is a place he knows about. Even if I could lose him, he'll just find me again."

"Do you want out?" he asked, looking back at the bathrooms nervously.

"I don't want to be a piece of meat sold to the highest bidder."

"Okay," he said after a moment of thought, "I'll take care of it."

Honcho emerged from the bathroom and rejoined us. That night, they left me at the city shelter and went out to do whatever it is they did together on their boys nights away from me. In the morning, Honcho wasn't waiting for me in front of the shelter, as he normally did. I saw Casanova at the Community Center later that morning.

"Have you seen Honcho?" I asked him, point blank.

"You don't have to worry about him anymore," he told me. There was a finality in his voice.

"How did you get him to leave me alone?"

"I took care of it," he said, smiling, "He won't bother you again."

Casanova was right. I never saw Honcho again. I ran into Casanova years later. He was married with children, and doing well for himself, but the subject of Honcho never came up, nor did the night he fucked me. It was as if the whole thing had never even happened.