An Uncommonly Good Man 22

The Journal of Julian Corsair,

An Uncommonly Good Man

Julian Corsair – Chapter Twenty-two - "I have been one acquainted with the night." – (Robert Frost)

The three of us sat silently, the darkened room illuminated only by the light used for reading; Pauley anticipating what dire tale he might hear from me I thought would change his mind concerning our life together; Ben, just plain curious and, if I wasn't mistaken as indicated by his hard, bourgeoning, and considerable lump pressing up against my thigh through the pre-cum soaked front of his boxer-briefs, hard as the Rock of Gibraltar, no doubt inspired by Pauley's reading and; I was wondering where the hell I should begin! Well, as any story should, I began at the beginning or at least the part I could remember as beginning.

"My life was not all that different from Dr. Corsairs," I began, "only in a different time, but similar circumstances. From early on, there was no doubt I was an unwanted child. My mother claimed I was a product of her occupation and should've disposed of me long before she birthed me. I think she enjoyed having the regular welfare checks to supplement what she was earning turning tricks. To say she was a common street whore wouldn't be an accurate description. She was good looking, intelligent, fairly young, and from what I gathered listening to her, very, very talented in the sexual arts of pleasure. In addition, she had a very protective and selective pimp who had connections to those men with money who desired something a little more than just a `quick fuck.' They desired to be entertained by a lady with some class and talent."

The pregnancy and my birth must've limited her income for a time, although I once heard Joey, a young-looking black guy, (her "booking agent" as she referred to him) comment it was too bad she couldn't get pregnant again since there were those men who really got off fucking a pregnant woman and would pay really big bucks for her. I referred to her "booking agent" as "Joey the Snake" because of the way he sort of slithered around and for the "anaconda" he had hidden behind his zippered fly. It wasn't so fat as it was long, almost snake-like, I thought the first time I saw it hanging out.

Like Julian, I never knew who my father was, although I often imagined he was a wealthy, smart, handsome man who would someday, in my fantasy, find me and take me to a real home, if he only knew I existed. Although I was white, my complexion was naturally light tan, more of a Mediterranean shade, perhaps Spanish or something, but not black, not much different than it is now. I tanned well in the summer but it faded in the winter when I wasn't exposed to the sunlight as much.

There were many times I'd see other boys with their fathers at a movie or in a park or school activities and wish I had a Dad to go with me. Other times, I'd see a man on the city bus or at the mall and imagine he was my father. If I could casually walk along side of him or sit next to him on the bus, my active imagination would picture us going to the park, shopping, or baseball game; maybe just hanging out together, enjoying each other's company. Then he'd get off of the bus or walk away from me and I'd be all alone again!

When my mother worked, an older woman in the apartment across the hall from ours used to take care of me. She was more of a mother to me than my actual mother since I spent more time with her. Her apartment became more familiar to me when I was little than our own. Ms. Elli was the person who enrolled me in school, made certain I made it to the bus stop and home again, and went to parent-teacher conferences. We didn't live in the greatest Milwaukee neighborhood so, as she walked me to and from the bus stop, she would often caution me,

"Matthew," she'd say, "you have to watch yourself when on the streets. There are men out here who'd do some pretty nasty things to a good-looking white boy like you."

I knew exactly what she meant and became street-wise fast, I thought. "Joey the Snake" always picked my mother up to take her where she was going to fuck her clients. Sometimes she'd be gone for several days and I'd spend my nights, when I was very young, sleeping on Ms. Elli's couch. Then, when I was eight or so, I think, I was home alone. Ms. Elli left me a note on her apartment door saying she had to visit her sister and would be home the next day. She hoped my mother would be home to care for me, but no such luck! I was old enough to stay home alone so I fixed a sandwich for my supper and did my homework.

I was tired, so around eight o'clock, after I had my bath, I put my pajamas on and made ready to go to bed. I heard a key turn in the lock of our apartment. Anticipating it might be my mother, I wandered out to the front room from my little bedroom. "Joey the Snake" came in the door, not my mother. I didn't know he had a key, but I guess I wasn't surprised he did. He told me Ma was going to be gone for a couple of days and wanted him to check on me. Joey wasn't a bad looking guy, maybe thirty years of age or so, slim, and probably five foot ten or so. He wasn't muscular, but strong for his size and tough!

He inquired if I'd eaten, and I told him I had; if I'd done my homework and I told him I did. He then asked if I'd taken a bath before getting ready for bed. I told him I had, seeing nothing wrong with his questioning. Joey did a peculiar thing, I thought; he said, "Let me check" and stepped forward, putting his arm around me and led me to my bedroom.

Once there he kneeled in front of me, pulled down my pajama bottoms, and looked me over closely. I was a small boy and my little uncut cock probably was an inch or two long when soft and my balls were the size of small grapes and tucked up tight to my crotch. With one hand, he reached forward and began softly fondling and manipulating them, rolling them around, and licking his lips.

"Aren't you just the most beautiful little white boy I ever did see," he muttered with amazement.

I was beginning to suspect he wasn't searching for any spots I might've missed when scrubbing when, with his other hand, he used his thumb and forefinger to skin back my foreskin and began slowly jacking me. He said, as he leaned closer to my little now stiff cock, "I think I see a spot you missed," and with one fell swoop, engulfed my prick and balls and began sucking and bathing them like a baby sucking on his mother's teat! He frightened me at that point, but what he was doing with his mouth and tongue felt so damned good all I could do was stand there and shudder with pleasure!

After a few minutes, he pulled his mouth off, turned me around facing my bed, and bent me over. Spreading my little butt cheeks apart, he stuck his face in my crack and, using his tongue, began to lap, probe, and tickle my asshole. That time, I squealed in delight.

Snake stood and I heard him unbuckle and unzip his pants. I turned to look and his man-sized dick stood straight out in front of him, dripping and twitching, its one eye flared, a weapon in search of a sheath. Hanging beneath it was two very large, low-hanging brown balls, flopping each time his cock throbbed up and down. I knew then what he was going to do, but before I could scamper away, he grabbed me, tossed me on the bed on my stomach and held me down.

His knees between my legs, forcing them to open, his dick poking at my tiny pucker, he leaned forward saying, "I've wanted to fuck your cherry little boy-cunt for a long time. I'll bet you're so tight, I'll never be able to get it all in you."

I felt him smear some slippery goo over my bung and he started a most painful journey up my ass. As I said, he was long, but not big around, but to my small opening, it felt like he was shoving a baseball bat up there. It hurt like a son-of-a-bitch and the more I cried, the harder, deeper, and faster he fucked! When he finally fired his wad up my chute, I could feel him pulse and throb with each burst of cum he unloaded in me. I'd swear the man squeezed a half-gallon of his cream into me, but I know it wasn't really that much. Still, once he pulled out, it ran out of my hole, mixed with a little blood and some small spots of shit. Joey wiped himself off with my pajama bottoms, slapped me on the ass, and said "You're one fine boy fuck; maybe I should hook you up to work with your momma," and, tossing a twenty dollar bill on the bed, left.

I didn't stay alone in the apartment after that night. I had a key to Ms. Elli's apartment and I'd go over there if Mom was off working. If she was home, I'd avoid Joey like the plague if he stopped by, for whatever reason. More than once I saw him lick his chops and rub his crotch as I walked by. I knew he was fucking Ma when she wasn't working and I'm damn near positive he wanted to use me too. No way was I going to have his long dick shoved up my ass again; he took what I had and it pissed me off! If he would've asked, I might have said "yes," but he took, so fuck him! It was also the last time I let anyone fuck me without a condom.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out if I wanted some money I could use my good looks, small body, delectable cock, and willing asshole to good advantage. A thirteen year-old bi-racial boy across the street spent several afternoons schooling me in the ways of the street. Of course, just to make certain I knew what to do and how to really pleasure a man, he practiced and practiced with me, demonstrating what to do and the techniques used to make a guy nut! His dick wasn't as big or long as Joey's, so rather than hurt, I found the practice quite pleasurable. He also made certain I knew how to put a rubber on a guy's dick and where to buy or steal them. "Never let them fuck you bareback," he advised, "some of these jerks have some real nasty, shitty, bugs swimming around in their cum and on their dicks." I believed him and followed his advice.

I free-lanced along with some of the other rent-boys or "boy-whores" as our johns often called us. There was no way I'd have "Joey the Snake" pimping me out. He was the type that would fuck me royally and for payment, let his buddies do the same! Working the streets gave me my own dollars for clothes and things and allowed me to give Ms. Ellie what I could for feeding me and taking care of me. She continued to make certain I made it to school and did my homework. On weekends, during the day, she'd take me downtown on the city bus to the library for their programs or over to the art center.

Ma continued her occupation, often gone for two or three weeks at a time; where she went, I had no idea and I wasn't about to ask Joey. Then one day, when I was just thirteen, she just didn't come back anymore. The rent didn't get paid by Joey since he'd disappeared also, so the apartment manager made me take my clothes and things and move out. The rest of what was left in the place he sold, I think.

I struck out on my own, using Ms. Elli's place as a home base. She really couldn't afford to have me around full-time since I'd gotten older. I kept going to school, slept where I could when not at her place, and made what money I could turning tricks. Some nights were better than others, but once I started sprouting hair around my dick and firing short blasts of my pop-gun, I discovered the clientele I'd previously appealed to lost interest. Guys that wanted boys like me were just a little scarce, but would pay well for an all-night love fest, if the boy was talented (and I was). Trouble was, there weren't that many all-night affairs, so I many times had to settle for giving a quick blow job or hand job in the front seat of a car. Once in a while I'd have a guy give me a quick stand-up fuck in an alley, but not that often, especially in cold weather. I was real leery about taking off in a car with a client; there were boys that didn't return from some of those rides and those who did could sometimes look like they'd had the shit beat out of them.

School didn't have a clue where I lived or what I did. School continued to be a safe haven for me as well; I was warm in the winter, had a hot lunch every day, except weekends, and hot showers. My report cards and other school information went to Ms. Elli's and I'd been forging my mother's signature for years. I continued to drop by the public library on Saturdays to read and warm up in cold weather. I shared a ratty room in an old motel with some other boys, all of us either sleeping on the floor or bundled up together in one bed. The squat we had was cheap and got even cheaper if we didn't trash it and gave the manager a nightly blowjob or fuck.

One night, in the spring, I broke a cardinal rule of the rent boys; I dropped my pants and spread my cheeks before I made the guy pay to fuck me. He was pumping deep and rough, really tearing me up, and as he came, I heard him shout, "Have at this little faggot!" and before I could jump ahead and release him from my ass, two other, bigger and stronger assholes, grabbed me. The first guy and one of the new ones, held me while a guy with a really big dick ravaged my bung. When it became the third fucker's turn, I was pretty well wiped and before he finished, I passed out. When I came too, my pants were torn to shit, I was bleeding from my ass, and I could barely walk. I don't know what all they did to me, but it seemed more than just fucking me with their fat cocks! Somehow, I made it back to the bed-sit where a couple of other boys were napping after a slow evening and asked them to get me to Ms. Elli's.

She took one look at my bum and insisted I needed to go a hospital emergency room. We took a city bus to the nearest hospital; she and the boys deposited me in the waiting room, and boogied out of there before anybody could ask any questions. While I was being treated, the cops and the Department of Social Services showed up and got involved in my life. After I'd been examined, stitched up, and put into a room to spend a night or two (according to the doctor), a child protection officer and cop came in to see me and ask a bunch of questions. As he interviewed me, I danced pretty well around most of his questions, answering just enough to sound truthful, but not give any secrets away, so to speak. When he asked where I lived, I told him I was on my own, sleeping rough on the streets. I didn't want to get Ms. Elli in trouble since she'd been so nice to me, but when he asked where I went to school, I had no choice but to tell him. Once he found that out, he got my records and found out who my mom was. The Department tried to locate her but had no luck. As a result, I became a ward of the state and put into the system.

Foster homes were next, but most of them just wanted the monthly stipend they received for keeping kids and help around the house. Most of the places sucked! I could've run off, but at least I had a bed and food which was more than I would have on the streets. I'd be at one place just about so long before being transferred to another one. Living on the street taught me to keep a low profile so I just tried to keep to myself and not be noticed. I'd go to school, do my homework, do what I was told at the house, and read stuff I got from the library. Only once did I have a problem with another kid in the house. He was big, fat, and ugly and thought I was going to become his personal fuck-buddy. The little pen-knife I'd cobbered in school got his attention when I nicked his stiff, stubby dick with it when he thought he'd shove it in me one night when I was in bed.

My grades were always good and during my senior year of high school, a counselor recommended me for a scholarship at UW-La Crosse and when I graduated, I went there. Everything, including room and board was paid for. I met Dr. Corsair after answering an ad in the school paper for a part-time companion. Of all of the foster homes I was in, not one fucking family wanted to adopt me! No one really wanted me; not my mother, a foster home, no one, until I met Dr. Corsair.

It was so difficult, telling Pauley and Ben my story, fearful they'd reject me as many others had done. The memories seemed to flood over me and consume me with the sadness of emotional loss and stress. I didn't realize I was crying my heart out at the end, for my life's losses, for Julian, and fear for my future with Pauley.

Pauley raised up, gently moving a sobbing Ben aside, and keeling, pulled me to his chest, placing my head on his shoulder, kissed me and said, "Not to worry anymore Matt, I want you; Ben wants you, and you're home with me. I love you so," and lifted me up to my feet. With his arms around me, he led me to our bedroom. There in the darkness and quiet, our two bodies meshed in familiarity, Pauley convinced me my past held no barrier to our future and our relationship.

To be continued:

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Thank you for reading Julian Corsair– Chapter Twenty-two– "I have been one acquainted with the night." – (Robert Frost)

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Nick Hall

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