Date: Wed, 20 Feb 2002 04:58:46 -0700
From: Clone Buggs <cqsqfq@hotmail.com>
Subject: Across the Alley part 21

Across the Alley XXI


	Frank went off after eating to his date, and I thought I needed to clean up
a little before I went to visit the priest.  Jessie took us to the bus
station, and showed us where we could take a shower.  He and Steve watched
my clothes, while I stripped off and stepped under the shower.  As I was
soaping up, a tall man came into the shower area.  He was talking to Steve
and Jessie as he stripped off and got under the shower next to me.  He was
humming and soaping himself, and I ignored him and started sluicing off the
suds.  I had my eyes closed, and my back to him when I felt him feel my butt
cheek.
	I shook the water out of my eyes and hair, and looked at him.  He had a
hard-on, and was soaping his shaft.  He didn't speak, but motioned me closer
to him.  He ran the soap between my cheeks, and I felt his finger go into my
hole.  I pulled away, and told him if he wanted to do that, he was going to
have to pay for it.
	"How much?"
	"Ten dollars."
	"Ten dollars?  Sheeit.  I haven't ever paid more than five."
	"Well if you want me, it's ten."
	"Can you take all of my cock in your cornhole?"  I looked at him, and
smiled.
	"I've taken double that with no trouble before.  I reckon you'll get yer
jollies."
	"Hot damn.  Less get outa here an' go to my room.  Ah cain't wait to
cornhole yo' butt."  We rinsed off, and dried with the thin towels that came
with the fifty cent fee for the shower.  While I dressed, I told Steve and
Jessie what was up.  They said they would shadow us a ways back to make sure
he didn't conk me on the head and take what he wanted in some dark alley.
	The man was about twenty-five or twenty-six, and told me his name was
Darryl, and that he lived in a boarding house just down the street.  His
landlady only had one toilet in the house, and it didn't have a shower, and
was always full with guys going out for the night after work.  He'd
discovered the bus station showers, and then discovered he could make dates
with boys there on a regular basis.  He complained again about the price I'd
named, but since I was new and he hadn't had me before he was willing to pay
it for the first time screw, but that I shouldn't get used to getting ten
dollars every time I got fucked.  Five dollars was the going rate in Kansas
City, and no little cowboy from Arizona was going to come in and change that
over night.
	At the boarding house, I looked over my shoulder to see if Steve and Jessie
could see where I was going.  Steve waved at me, and I followed Darryl into
the house.  He led me up a stair case, and into a small back room.  The room
itself was plain to say the least, the furniture consisted of a single sized
bed, and a straight back chair.  A lamp with a crumpled shade covered with
dust, was the only light.  Across one corner, was a wooden dowel rod, and a
few pieces of clothing hung on hangers there.  The high bed, was at least
three feet off the floor in the old fashioned iron bedstead style.  The thin
mattress, was covered with a set of gray dirty sheets, a flat pillow with
its chicken feather stuffing coming out of the ticking.  No blanket, but
then it was so muggy that it wasn't necessary.
	"Take off yer clothes," he whispered.  "Don't make a lot of noise, the ol'
biddy what runs this place is got ears like a goddamn hawk."  I grinned at
his hawk with ears, and started taking off my clothes.  He sat in the chair
and started pulling his off as well.  In moments, we were both naked, and he
was busy jacking himself up hard.
	"Get up on yer knees on the bed."  I did as he asked, and he stepped up
behind me and started trying to put his cock head into my hole.  It hurt,
and I pulled away from him.
	"Shit man," I hissed "Ain't you got nothin' to slick me up first?"
	"I'll spit on it."  He hocked up a gob of spit, and let it drool out of his
mouth into my butt crack.  My skin crawled, but the idea of ten dollars in
my pocket, made me stay right where I was waiting for his cock to slide into
me.  He pushed at my hole again, and the spit helped, but it was still
difficult.  I relaxed, and pushed back, and soon we were connected and he
began humping my butt.
	He began muttering and calling me a pussy whore and a queer cunt while he
fucked me, being careful not to make too much noise.  Fortunately, it didn't
take long before I felt his cock began pulsing and shooting.  He stiffened
up, pushing his cock all the way into me and emptied his balls.  When he was
finished, he just pulled out and left me dripping his cum and spit out of my
hole onto his bed sheets.  He dived onto my hole with his mouth, and sucked
and licked my hole clean.  When he stopped, I got off the bed and started
pulling on my pants.  I buttoned my shirt, and watched him, now sitting on
the bed, playing with his limp dick, still drooling a slick of late cum
across his belly.  When I pulled my second boot on, and held out my hand, he
smirked at me, and waved his hand dismissively.
	"Pay me my money asshole."  He sat up suddenly, his neck stiff.
	"Whud you call me?"  He was beginning to look belligerent.
	"I called you a asshole an' I meant it.  Pay me my money before I run outa
here yellin' `bout how I been fucked by a queer."
	"You wuddn't do that wud you?"
	"You jess watch my dust buddy."  He got off the bed and picked up his pants
off the floor.  He pulled out a ratty tooled leather billfold and took out a
five dollar bill.
	"The price was ten," I glared at him.
	"'Ats all Ah got."
	"Fuck it is."  I grabbed for his billfold, and he jerked it away and
slapped me hard across the face.  I was instantly infuriated.  I hauled off
and popped him one in the nose.  Blood flew everywhere suddenly, and he
threw his head back and howled.  I grabbed his billfold out of his hand and
looked inside,  It was empty.
		I ripped it apart and threw it on the floor.  He was sitting there holding
his bleeding nose, with blood dripping down his arm and chest.  I stood away
from him to keep from getting his blood on my clothes.  Under his bed, I saw
a beaten up old suitcase.  I grabbed it and popped open.  What I saw inside
was an eye opener.  The first thing I saw was a pistol.  It had a cracked
wood grip, and the bluing was worn off of the high spots, but it was loaded.
  A bag of bills had spilled open when I popped the lid and turned it over.
There must have been several hundred dollars there.  I grabbed the pistol,
and held it on him while I poked through the bills.
	"What are you?  Some sort a bandit?"  He just looked at the barrel of the
pistol I had pointed at his chest.  I realized I had cocked the gun.  How I
knew to do this, was beyond me, since I'd never held a six gun in my hand
before.
	I found another five in the mess  of spilled bills, and put it in my pocket
with the first one.  "I'm takin' this pistol so you won't shoot me on the
way down the stairs.  I'll throw it in the bushes out front where you can
find it."  I leaned into his face, a little trying to be as threatening as
possible.
	"If I wus you, I'd hightail it to some other town quick, `cause I aim to
tell the po'lease `bout this here bandit what lives in room four at this
here boarding house.  How long you think you got `afore them boys come after
you?"  I turned around and slammed the door open, and fled down the stairs.
At the bottom of the stairs, an older woman popped out of the ground floor
apartment.  She saw the pistol in my hand, and screamed.
	"You ought to be more careful who you rent rooms to Mam.  That guy in
number four is a nasty boy fucker."  I shocked the old lady, and she
retreated into her door way, and let me pass without screaming again.  At
the top of the stoop, I pitched the pistol into the bushed in front of the
house, and ran down the short flight to the street.  Steve and Jessie were
sitting on a low brick fence a few houses down the street.  I ran to them,
and they both clapped me on the back, sensing something wasn't right.  I
told them the story as we walked down the darkened street from street light
to street light while I told them the story.
	"What time is it?"  I was already thinking about my date with the priest at
nine.  "How long will it take to get to the priest's house?  I don't even
know where it is."
	"It ain't far," Jessie said, but I don't know what time it is."  We asked a
man passing on the sidewalk, but he ignored us and and quickened his steps
along the dark sidewalk.
	"Maybe we should head over there if you know where it is."  The streets
grew darker as we left Main street, and made our way into the neighborhoods
to the East.  The trees grew larger, and the street lights further apart,
and the houses grew larger and more mansion like.  We arrived at the corner
of thirteenth  street and the Passeo, and saw a church sitting on the
corner.
	"Jeze," Steve said.  "You think that's where yer `sposed to go for your
date?"
	"I ain't got no idea.  What duh you think?"
	"What do you think, you should just go up an' knock on th' front door?"  I
shrugged, and stuffed my hands in my pants pockets.  We stood in the dark
under a large tree, and watched the church for half an hour.  we were about
to buck up our courage to go up and knock on the front doors of the church,
when a light came on over a door at the back and side of the building.
After a minute, the door opened under the light, and a thin woman came out
with the priest.  He stood on the porch under the light, and watched the
woman walk down the flagstone walk to the street.  She got into an old car
parked at the curb, and started it up.  She drove away, but the priest was
still standing on the porch, peering into the darkness looking for
something.  I stepped out of our dark hiding place into the dim porch porch
light.  The priest saw me and motioned me to hurry along and join him.
	I scurried up the walk, and he disappeared into the building, holding the
door open for me.  When I passed him, he looked out in both directions
before closing the door and turning off the light.  He led me through a
kitchen area into a comfortable looking living room.  He offered me a glass
of wine, which I accepted, having never had any wine before.  He poured it
and told me to have a seat on his ottoman in front of a big easy chair.
	He handed me the small glass of wine, and sat down in the chair.  I took a
sip, and my face screwed up over the sourness of the wine.  I'd imagined it
would be sweet like grape juice, and its sour alcoholic flavor sliced across
my taste buds like lemon juice.
	"Don't like it eh?"  His voice was soft and masculine.  I liked the sound
of it.  I shook my head, and handed him the glass.  He set it on a side
table, and looked at me.  He sipped his wine, and examined me carefully from
head to toe.
	"How old are you boy?"  His eyes were glittering and he licked his lips.
"Don't lie now.  I like my boys young."  I looked at him, trying to assess
what he wanted.
	"I just turned thirteen," I lied.  I figured he wasn't able to see the
additional three years on me yet.  After all, I hadn't been living the hard
life for more than four days now, and I didn't think I was showing the wear
and tear I could see on Frank and Jessie, who'd told us they had been
tricking, as they called it, for almost a year.
	"Thirteen?  You sure?"  I shrugged, not wanting to compound the lie.
	"Can I have the ten bucks first?"  I had decided form my previous
experience that I'd always get my money up front.
	"Don't you trust me?"  He put his hand on my thigh, leaning forward to do
it.
	"I'm learning not to trust any trick.  The last bastard tried to short me
after he had his fun."
	"Oh my."  He sat back in the chair, and from somewhere I couldn't identify,
he produced a ten dollar bill.  It was worn and actually torn in one corner,
but I took it and stood up to stuff it into my pants.  He reached out and
groped my cock while I was doing this, and I just stood there and let him.
After all, I had his money in my pocket.  It was time to pay up.
	He loosened my belt, and stripped my pants down around my knees.  My cock
had started to harden, and he leaned forward and pulled me into his fat
mouth.  I tried to resist, thinking he'd think me shy, but he put his hands
on my butt cheeks, and pulled my cock into him deeper and started to suck me
off.  His fingers were busy with my hole, and he poked a digit into me,
fucking it in and out several times.  I couldn't help but respond, and
started fucking is mouth with my stiff dick, while he fucked my hole with
his finger.  This activity went on for several minutes, before he suddenly
stopped and pulled off my cock, and pulled his finger out.
	"Let me get my dick out boy.  I need to fuck you if you don't mind."
	"You paid for it mister."
	"Call me father," he said, standing up in front of me and lifting his robe.
  His clothing underneath, was held together with tie strings, which he
pulled loose and let his pants drop.  He didn't have underwear on, and his
cock was already stiff and oozing precum.  He was almost as big as Karl had
been, and I found myself looking forward to feeling him penetrating my hole.
  I realized how much I'd enjoyed getting fucked by Karl.
	"you got any grease father?"
	"you mean lubrication?"
	"Yeah, lube, so you won't hurt me goin' in."  He sat back down on the
chair, and pulled open a drawer in the side table.  He lifted a jar of ponds
cold cream out of the drawer, and opened the lid.  The fragrance, made me
think of my mother.  She had put cold cream on her face every night to clean
her pores out she said.
	"Turn around."  I pivoted on my feet, slightly constricted by my pants
around my knees.  He pushed me down over the ottoman, and then began poking
my hole with a cold cream covered finger again.  He played with my ass for a
while, and eventually had three fingers in my butt.
	"How's that feel son?"  His breathing was getting labored.
	"Feels good father.  Are you goin' to fuck me now?"
	"Yes, my son.  I'm going to put my big cock into your tiny little hole, an
fuck you like you need to be fucked.  You need to be fucked don't you my
son?"
	"Oh yes father I need you to fuck me good."  He withdrew his fingers from
my hole, and put his hands on my hips.  He pulled my butt back toward his
big flaring cock head, and began to push it into me.  When  he finished
penetrating me, I was sitting upright in his lap with his big thick cock
totally buried in my body.  I was enjoying the fullness, and he was trying
to be a still as possible to keep from cuming too quickly.
	I started to rise up. pushing with my legs, and he groaned and his hands
fluttered on my hips.  "Oh god," he muttered, and tried to pull me back down
on him.  I relaxed my legs, and let him slip back to the bottom.
	"Fuck me father.  I need you to fuck me hard."  I leaned over, and put my
forearms on the ottoman.  I felt him rise up behind me and begin to pull and
thrust into me.  He leaned far over my back, and kept his hands on my hips,
and started fucking me as hard as he could.
	"How's--that--boy?"  He was gasping the words out with each thrust into me.
I knew he wouldn't last long at this rate.  My own cock was stiff and
flexing and I could feel his cock head sliding over the place in my gut that
made fucking with a big cock feel so good.  I thought I'd cum before too
long myself.
	"Fuck that cornhole father.  Fuck me as hard as you can."  He was huffing
and puffing behind me and then suddenly, he froze, buried deep in my
asshole.  He grunted and let his breath escape in a long flat hiss of air.
	I felt his cock pumping cum into my butt.  He shivered, and pulled his cock
back and then thrust into me again.  I felt my nuts rise up on my shaft, and
I shot gobs of cum all over the ottoman I was bent over.
	"Oh father fuck me some more.  It feels so good."
	"You like my big cock riding your butt son?"  He was still shafting me as
he spoke.  I really did feel like he could do me again before he pulled out.
  Unfortunately, he wasn't up for it, and finally pulled his deflating cock
out of my hole.
	"You just stay like that, son.  I'll get something to clean you up with."
	"I shot my cum all over yer thing here father.  I'm sorry.  I couldn't help
it."
	"That's all right son.  I'll clean it up."  He got up and went into the
kitchen.  When he returned, he had a warm wet rag, which he proceeded to
wipe my butt hole.  It was the first time somebody had cleaned me up
afterward.  It felt good, and I liked the feel of the warm rough cloth on my
skin.  He lifted me off the ottoman, and dropped down on his knees between
the chair and the ottoman, and began licking my spunk off the leather
surface of the footrest.  When he had it all licked up, he wiped the leather
with the now cold rag.  He finally stood up and pulled his tie pants up, and
hid his nice cock from my view.
	"You can get dressed now son.  We're finished for now."  I pulled up my
pants, and cinched my belt tight.  He led me into the kitchen, and offered
me a glass of milk.  I accepted it, and he sat with me at the kitchen table
and talked while I drank it down.
	"You want to visit me again sometime?"  He put his big hand on mine where
it lay on the table.
	"Sure father.  I like having your cock in my hole.  It makes me feel good."
	"Good.  Then maybe we can get together on Saturday night?"
	"Why not?"
	"Shall we say nine again?"
	"It's still gonna be ten bucks ain't it?"
	"Of course.  And well worth it."  He showed me the door, and I waved at him
as I walked down the dark flagstones.  He hadn't turned on the porch light
for me, and I had to make my way slowly through the darkness.
	When I found the guys, Frank had gotten finished with his date, and had
rejoined the group, figuring out where they would be.  His date had been a
traveling sales man who was selling farm machinery and was horny as hell
according to Frank.
	"Wore my butt out," Frank bragged. "His dick musta been this big," he said
marking off his forearm at the elbow.
	"Aw shit," Jessie commented.  I seen his dick in the hole at the depot, an
he wusn't nowhere near that big.  I coulda took that dick, and I ain't half
as big as you back there."  Frank hit him good naturedly, and we walked away
in the darkened streets.
	"You two want to have some fun?"  Frank nudged Jessie with his elbow.
	"Sure," Steve said.  "What'd you have in mind?"
	"There's this bar down the street called the Jewel Box.  Buncha queers in
the place, and most uv'em dress up like women.  That's where we got ourselfs
painted up last night.
	"I don't know's I want to get myself painted up like no woman."  Steve
shoved his hands in his pockets.
	"You don't got to let them paint you up none.  But if you do, they'll give
you money, and sometime they'll take you home with them and you can sleep in
a bed instead of some ol' dirty alley.
	"You gotta let'em fuck you?"  My butt hole was feeling a bit worn after
having two big dicks shoved up me so recently."
	"Naw.  Mosta these girls like you to fuck them.  Some uv'em don't like to
do nothin' but suck dick.  Depends.  Jessie an me got seven dollars a piece
in there last night, and we woulda had a bed to sleep in if the cops hadn'ta
seen that ol' queenie all dressed up like a woman gettin' inta her car with
two boys all painted up like hussies.  The took us and locked us in their
car, an' then beat the bejesus outa that queer with they sticks."
	"Left `im on the ground by his car, an' took us off to a dark place and
made us suck'em off.  They took our money, and then throwed us in the tank."
  Jessie was incensed as the told us about the cops.
	"What's gonna stop them from comin' back tonight?"  Steve looked at both
boys.
	"Nuthin', but maybe they won't, an' if they do, there's four of us an' only
two uv them."
	"I jess don't wanna spend another night in jail."
	"Me neither," I said.
	"Well, youse comin' or ain't you?"  Frank looked at us while we thought
about it.  Steve looked at me, and I shrugged.
	"Guess so," he said, and Frank and Jessie laughed, and took off through the
dark with us following close behind.

End