Date: Fri, 9 May 2003 18:26:24 -0700 (PDT)
From: LZ
Subject: Never Say Never, Nothing is Forever Chapter 8

     I made my date with Bill on Sunday. It went just as
before but I was a bit more honest about my school grades
and admitted my father wasn't a cop without going so far as
to admit not having one. He told me to come at nine next
Saturday and we could do something together before lunch.

     'Like what?'

     'Maybe swimming. You know how to swim?'

     'Yeh,' I lied. I'd never been near a pool or beach in
my life.

     'Nine o'clock in front of Tad's'

     I was going to have to think of an excuse for not
wanting to go swimming

     I was just three-thirty, time for another score. I
walked up Forty-Second toward Broadway and detoured into the
Port Authority Bus Terminal rather than pass it. A quick
tour only turned up passengers. Just as I got to the door, I
was jumped from behind.

     `Ray! Gotcha!' It was John. He hugged me and hopped in
circles. `Man, where you been?'

     I was nearly as glad to see him. `I been here. Where
you been?'

     He put his arm over my shoulder and led me to a bench.
"They got me in a foster home in Brooklyn. It sucks on a
stick. Stupid old fat lady and her daughter with twelve a
us. Greasy food. Ain't s'posed to go nowhere `cept school.
Rest a the time, it's chores, homework or television. Fuck
it. I just go on weekends. She wouldn't know if the others
wasn't snitches. I stayed all night with a guy last night.
Goofy son-of-a-bitch. Just wanted to hug all night. An' only
gave me three. Lots a food, though. You score today?'

     `Yeh, nice guy named Bill. Nice clothes an' lotsa
muscles. Takes me to the Holiday Inn. Know him?'

     He thought about it. `Nah, don't think so but, shit,
there's so many of `em. Wanna score?'

     `I was just lookin'. Let's go to Forty-Two.'

     John's arm on my shoulder again, we walked up Forty-
Second Street and around to Herman's. There were plenty of
kids and teens playing the machines, including a couple of
white boys I'd seen hustling, but no johns.

     We played three games of Skee Ball and went back to
Forty-Second Street. John spied a man dressed in a great
parka driving slow in a blue convertible with the top up. He
was obviously on the hunt. John grabbed his crotch and
stared at him. The man noticed and gave us the finger.

     `Asshole wants a girl,' commented John.

     I spotted another across the street watching us. He
looked familiar. John said, `He's crazy. Takes you to his
house and talks about Jesus and getting saved, all the time
feeling you all over. Then he don't give nothing. I hadda
use my own money to get back down here.'

     John pulled on my arm and pointed with his chin. `See
the guy with the raincoat? You been with him yet?'

     I didn't see him at first because he was back in a
store entryway well ahead of us. John had good eyes. `Don't
think so.'

     `He likes to fuck but he's got a little cock that don't
hurt nothin'. Pays ten for new and fifteen for a virgin.
You're a virgin, ain't you?'

     `I ain't no girl if that's what you mean.'

     `No, I mean you tell him you never been fucked before
and he'll pay you ten, maybe more. Like I said, he's got a
little one. Don't hurt, an' I got some KY.'

     We were getting close. I didn't like the idea but if he
was smaller than Sammy from the movie, ten wasn't bad. `You
comin' too?'

     `Shit, yeh. We tell him we can wait between but he's
gotta fuck us both. That's ten for you and eight for me. I
tell him I don't do it with nobody but him. They like to
hear that.'

     The man spotted us and looked hard at me. He was skinny
with a mousy face, the type that only bathed once a week.
John nodded his head that he should follow us. We headed to
the Holland Hotel, the john trailing behind. John stopped
just outside the entry and waited for him.

     `Let him see your ass,' John instructed.

     I made sure I was sideways to the man.

     `Ray's a virgin. He's scared and don't wanna do it. Got
a great big ass but says his hole is real tight. I told him
you pay ten. Make it fifteen and maybe.'

     The man looked me over, mostly my butt.

     `Then you gotta do me too but we can wait while you get
hard again. Just eight as usual for me.'

     `That's a lot of money,' commented the man, `plus the
room, too much.'

     John waited, saying nothing for a change. The man kept
looking at my nice round buns.

     The john sighed. `Okay, but wait'll I pay the room then
follow me up.'

     `Let's make him shower with us first', I said. `He
don't look very clean.'

     The guy hardly spoke. John hardly stopped. We showered.
I washed his genuinely small dick. A rubber would have
fallen right off it. He fingered my asshole. I tightened to
impress him. He smiled.

     There were no preliminaries other than the shower. He
asked me to lie face down over the side of the bed, legs
hanging down. He had his own lubricant in a little round
tin. He had difficulty finding my hole so I pulled my cheeks
open with my hands remembering to keep my hole tight. His
dick was hard as a nail and pushed right in. It actually
felt good except for the hair against my ass. He was a
moaner, sort of humming with each penetration. John
indicated that I should act like it hurt a little so I
turned my head and gritted my teeth. The john hummed a
little louder. My dick got hard. It needed attention. I
looked at John and put my finger in my mouth. He grinned and
shook his head. The man took at least ten minutes to reach
orgasm. I asked for and received a blowjob. It was the
easiest fifteen bucks I'd ever earned.

     We watched television for almost an hour before the man
was able to fuck John. It took him nearly twice as long as
me, pumping fast and hard to pull up that second load. He
was sweating when he finished. John watched TV the entire
time, chin resting on his hands, oblivious to the frantic
action of the man pumping into his rear.

     We ate at Tad's. John told me he wanted out of where he
was. After all the fun of the afternoon, the sadness in him
came pouring out.

     `The old bitch and that stupid cunt daughter a hers are
just doin' it for the money. They don't give a shit about us
`cept it's somethin' gonna piss off the social workers. An'
all the others, they got families they're goin' out to see
all the time. Fuck!'

     There were tears in his eyes. Once again, he tried to
hide them looking over his shoulder and wiping them on his
arm. I wanted to hug him, take him home with me. Mother
would throw him out the minute he walked in the door.

     John wanted to run away. `Man, I got over four hundred
dollars saved up but where the fuck do I go. I asked some a
the johns but they all say they'd get in big trouble, maybe
kidnapping. Then I say they could go to the welfare and
become a foster parent and they say they can't for all kinds
a reasons. Motherfuckers don't really give a shit about us.
Fuckin' world!'

     I walked with him to the subway and promised to look
for him the following Sunday at ten, that I would have a
friend with me who didn't know about hustling and that he
shouldn't mention it. We could score together after I took
my friend home. He tried to be happy John when we parted but
the sadness was all over him like he'd been rained on.