Date: Thu, 10 Nov 2005 20:04:12 -0600 From: Real White Guy Subject: Born and Raised ~~~ I once met someone named Katrina I never met anyone meaner She came into town Blew all my shit down And left me fucking with FEMA ~~~ Roll tape. Aerial footage of storm damage. Veronica voice over: "As federal and state officials begin the long process of assessing the damage and putting the pieces together in New Orleans, many residents now wonder where their lives will lead." Floating body footage. "With the death toll still uncertain and families still separated, some residents already speak of returning to the city they grew up in. But others aren't so certain." Cutaway to Javon. Veronica voice over: "One family torn from their homes in the wake of Katrina's devastation is struggling with that very question. For Javon Collins, the answer is far from clear." Javon's voice: "I dunno. It's my home, but it ain't gonna be the same no more." Herbert, the obnoxious board operator universally hated by everyone at the television station, snorted at his controls. "'I dunno?' That's the best we could come up with? 'It ain't gonna be the same no more'?" he snickered. "Shut up," said Robert. Like everyone else, he hated working with Herbert. He especially hated being trapped in the control van with his perspiring ass. Fortunately, he pulled sufficient rank to enable him to tell Herbert to shut up when he needed to. He couldn't do anything about the sweating, though. Robert turned his attention back to the monitors. Okay, it wasn't Shakespeare. But fuck it, this wasn't goddamned playacting, either. There was no way to know how much that kid had lost. The kid probably didn't even know at this point. Well, maybe he wasn't exactly a kid. He looked youngish, but he could have easily been in his early twenties. Hard to tell. Veronica went through her television paces, hitting her obligatory story marks, and tossed it back to the studio. The anchors, Ron and Julia, gave their best effort at emoting sincere television concern and thanked Veronica for her brave piece of journalism. Robert rolled his eyes. All three of those fools needed acting lessons. Actual journalism classes might be shooting too high for these clowns, however. Robert admired Veronica's journalistic guts. Talking to a real live black kid and everything. Edwin R. Murrow would no doubt be proud. Robert stepped out of the van, grateful to be free of Herbert's cloying damp scent. He went to offer the obligatory "attagirl" to the ever-insecure Veronica, pat the cameraman on the back, and thank Javon for his time. "They fucked it up," growled Veronica. "The SuperDome was supposed to be the closing shot." Robert made a mental note to misplace Veronica's portable monitor. The bitch had a compulsive need to see every damn thing as it went over the air. "It looked great," Robert cooed reasuringly to the coiffed ego as she struggled to release herself from the wires she was tethered to. "Everybody's done the SuperDome. I think the cemetery worked better in this case anyway." Veronic muttered angrily to herself about journalistic professionalism, an alien phrase she had picked up from some journalism professor somewhere in her distant past. Robert shook Javon's hand. "Thanks for doing this." "No problem." "It'll be rerun at ten o'clock so you can see it." "Cool." "This your first time on TV?" "Yeah." "It wasn't that bad, was it?" "Nah. That reporter's a bitch, though." "Well, she's just a little uptight." "She probably needs some dick." "I think we all do at this point." Damn. Freudian slip. Javon gave Robert a funny look. Robert tried to recover. "I mean, we've all been under a lot of stress. Shit, that didn't come out right." Javon laughed. "It's cool. I ain't hatin' on you." He smiled to himself. Robert shrugged. "Fuck it. I can't dig myself out of that particular hole, so we'll just leave it." "I hear you." "I mean, I don't want to give the wrong impression." "It's cool." "I don't want you to think..." "It's cool." Time to change the subject. "Where are you staying?" "At the Salvation Army until they move us." "That's on the other side of town. You need a ride back?" "Yeah." They left the crew and got in Robert's car. "You know where it is?" asked Javon. "Oh, yeah. We did a shoot there the other day." They rode in silence for a while. "You ever been to New Orleans? I mean, before this?" Javon asked. "A couple of times." "Mardi Gras?" "No. Labor Day." "I thought so." Javon knew about Labor Day in New Orleans. They rode in silence some more. "Labor Day's pretty wild," Javon said. "So I've heard." "Bullshit. You know it's wild." "What do you know about Labor Day?" "Hell, I know. I'm from New Orleans. I know about Labor Day." "You ever been?" "Hell, yeah I've been. My friends and I go there to watch. All them men dressed up like women and shit." "You like the drag queens?" "I like to watch. They a trip." More silence. "Them fags be sucking dick in the bars and shit. No offense." "None taken. Well, we're here." "Yeah," Javon said. But he made no effort to get out of the car. He just sat there like he didn't want to move. "You got everything?" "Yeah," Javon said, still sitting pat. They sat like that for a few uncomfortable moments. "Look," Robert said, "I really need to get back and help everyone get things wrapped up." "Yeah." "Well, if you don't mind..." "I need my dick sucked." "Um...excuse me?" "I need my dick sucked," Javon said frankly. "I ain't fucked in over a week." "Look, if you think you can just..." "Fuck that. You know you want to suck it." Then he unzipped his pants and pulled out his dick. "Put that back!" Robert looked around to see if anyone was watching. "I ain't putting it back until you suck it. Look at that dick. Tell me that ain't a big-ass dick." Javon was telling the truth. It was a big-ass dick. "I am not going to suck your dick just because you want it sucked." "Look at it," Javon said, stroking it gently. "That's a pretty dick. Don't tell me you don't want this dick." "I am not sucking your dick in the Salvation Army parking lot!" Javon knew he'd won. "Then let's go somewhere else." "Where?" Javon directed him to a side street and then into an alley. "You sure this is safe?" "It's cool. I'll keep an eye out." "You're legal?" "I'm twenty two. Shit, I been fucking since I was twelve." Robert couldn't believe he was doing this. He looked at Javon, who motioned with his head for Robert to get started. "I ain't gay, though," Javon said as a point of clarification. "I just ain't had no pussy in a while. "Watch the teeth," he instructed as he guided the head of his cock into Robert's warm mouth. "Don't be scratching up my shit." Robert opened his mouth wide and took Javon's cock to the back of his throat. The soft velvet skin stretched against his lips as he strained to take as much as he could. "Hell, yeah," said Javon. "That's what I'm talking about." Javon leaned the seat back a bit and rested one hand on the back of Robert's head as it bobbed up and down on his cock. Robert began working his tongue on the veiny shaft. "Shit yeah. Faggots do know how to suck a dick. No offense." Robert reached over and began caressing Javon's balls with one hand. "Yeah, that's it. Don't be touching my ass, though." Robert gripped the base of the cock with his hand and began stroking as Javon started to pump his cock more vigorously into his mouth. "Get ready," Javon said. "I'm gonna go ahead and cum so we don't get busted out here. You ready?" Robert gave his muffled assent. Javon held Robert's head with both hands and began pumping in earnest. Robert loosened his throat to take it deeper. "There you go. Take that dick." Robert took it deeper. "Fuck, yeah. I'm getting close now." He began thrusting harder, jamming his tool halfway down Robert's open throat. Robert groaned, and the vibrations from his voice hit a nerve. "Shit! Here we go!" The first shot of cream hit deep in Robert's throat. He pulled up to taste it, but Javon pushed down hard, burying his pulsing cock deep inside as the juices pumped inside Robert's throat. "Swallow it! Swallow that shit!" Robert swallowed fast, feeling the warm liquid as it went down. Javon's cock pulsed a few more times. "Okay. Take it out. It's sensitive now." They drove back to the Salvation Army in silence. Javon said nothing. No "thanks." Nothing. Just sat silently as they pulled into the parking lot. He finally spoke just before climbing out of the passenger's seat. "Take it easy," he said. Robert had to ask one question. "Do you think you'll be going back to New Orleans after everything's over?" Javon shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe." "Well, good luck, whatever you do." Javon nodded. Then he cracked a smile. "But even if I don't go back, I'll make it New Orleans wherever I go. Believe that!" Robert believed it.