I stood in the light of the street lamp on a corner of Avenue B counting the money I had made for the night. I got fifty from an old man who removed his dentures and slobbed my cock with such precision, I busted my nut in the old man's make shift pussy faster than I ever had. Fucking blew my mind. It felt so good, I almost felt guilty taking the old coot's money.
I picked up another fifty from some married dude who wanted to see what it was like to suck another guy's dick. Weird, if you ask me, but who am I to judge? To each his own, know what I mean? He took me to a motel room he rented for the occasion. No doubt the guy had never sucked a dick before. It was sloppy, and his saliva drenched my balls and ran down into my ass crack. After nearly thirty minutes of lying there, with him trying to get me off, and my straining to bust a nut, I had to stroke one out, which the little perv gobbled up like he was starving.
I was considering calling it a night, but I had nowhere I needed to be, and the busses weren't running yet, so I lit a smoke and leaned against the pole of the streetlamp.
I hated myself when I came out here to turn tricks, even if I did enjoy the experience of hooking up with the guys who picked me up. It was kind of exciting, not knowing what you were going to come across. I had one guy ask me to step on his cock, grinding my foot into it like I was crushing out a cigarette butt. I was flabbergasted when his dick started shooting cum across the floor, his dick twitching under my foot. That was the weirdest thing I had ever seen, but it was a big lesson about sex. We all have our thing.
So, anyway, I was standing there with a hundred bucks in my pocket, feeling pretty good about myself when a late model sports car pulled up. A Dodge Charger, to be specific. Damn sexy car, if you ask me. The window came down and the man asked if I was looking to party. I was pretty sure he was just talking about sex, and I wasn't sure I had another nut in me, but I've never turned down a party in my life.
"Sure," I said, opening the door to climb in next to the guy. As soon as the door was shut, this guy takes off like the cops are hot on our tail, or something. The man drives like a fucking maniac.
"Hi. I'm Trey," the driver said, extending his hand in an awkward handshake. I'm freaking out because he's not looking at the road.
"Houston," I said, shaking the guy's hand quickly so he can return his attention to where he was going.
I check out this guy, trying distract myself from the possibility I'll die in a fiery car crash sitting next to a stranger. He's handsome, like movie star handsome. Black hair carefully styled, not a hair out of place. He's wearing a tux, gold wire rimmed glasses, and a gold watch. What the fuck he's doing picking up guys on Avenue B is beyond me.
"So, you come from a party? I asked, hoping to find out why he's wearing a tux.
"I attended the orchestra this evening," he tells me, "Boring as hell, but you have to make an appearance. I've been driving around for hours now, looking for someone to party with."
He looks at me, and I see he has blue eyes. I've always been a sucker for the black hair- blue eyed look. Too bad he's not a chick. I'd probably fuck him just for the hell of it.
I was surprised when Trey turned into the historic King William District, then parked in the drive way of one of the large homes that lined both sides of the street. He's old money, I'm thinking, At least he'll be able to pay my fee.
We entered the house through the back door, and I waited while Trey punched in the code to turn off the alarm. The backdoor opened into a big, well kept kitchen.
"Would you like something to drink?" Trey asked, moving toward the refrigerator.
"A beer, if you have one."
Trey pulled two bottles of Dos Equis from the fridge and opened them, sliding one down the counter to me, like he's a barkeep.
"How much?" Trey asked, taking a drink of his beer.
"Fifty dollars to suck my dick," I informed him, making it clear I was the one who would be blown, "A hundred to fuck you."
"I see," Trey mumbled, looking me up and down. "How much to fuck you?"
"I don't get fucked," I snorted, taking a swig of my beer.
"Oh, come on, every man has his price," Trey cooed, walking around me to check out my ass, "Name your price."
This guy must be high, or something. Didn't he hear me? I don't get fucked. I don't mind sharing my big dick with the fags, but I don't take it in the ass. He's looking at me, expecting and answer.
"A thousand dollars," I answered after a moment of thought. I figured it was a high enough price to shoot down this guy's plans for my ass quickly, without it being so outrageous that it sounded like I didn't mean it.
"A thousand dollars? That's an expensive piece of ass."
"Well, it's virgin territory," I told him proudly, "If you're going to bust my cherry, you're going to pay for it."
"I'll give you two hundred," Trey smiled, running a hand seductively across my chest.
