Eight Inches. Sean Wolfe Fay. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Sean Wolfe Fay
Издательство: Ingram
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Жанр произведения: Современная зарубежная литература
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780758248404
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what?” Carlos tried to sound calm.

      “Lean against a lamppost. If a cop sees you, he’ll bust you for sure.”

      “For what? I’m catching my breath.”

      “Prostitution.”

      “In case you didn’t notice, I’m a guy, not a girl,” Carlos said haughtily.

      “Oh, I noticed all right,” the man said, stealing a glance at Carlos’ crotch. “Boys can be prostitutes, too, you know.”

      “That’s ridiculous,” Carlos said distastefully. He had never thought of a guy as a whore, and the thought that he technically could be considered such did not agree with him at all.

      “Then what are you doing out here?” the man asked, smiling.

      “Waiting for a friend.”

      “Me, too. Wanna be my friend?”

      “No, thanks.” Carlos turned away, indicating the end of the conversation.

      “Your loss,” the man grunted, and walked away.

      Carlos’ heart was racing with excitement. His first encounter alone, and he’d actually handled a creep. He mentally patted himself on the back and started thinking about what the man had said. Of course he had been paid for having sex, but that alone did not make him a prostitute, did it? He had seen movies with prostitutes in them, and the terms simply did not apply to him. He wasn’t without parents, he didn’t take drugs, and of course he didn’t have a pimp.

      He was about to go back to the donut shop and ponder the question further when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

      “Where you going?” It was Ricky.

      “Hi! I thought you said you’d be gone an hour.”

      “He just wanted a quickie in the car. I charged him half price. He was cute.”

      “Ricky,” Carlos blurted out, “am I a prostitute?”

      It caught Ricky completely by surprise, and he broke into an uncontrollable laughter.

      “Honey, it’s called a hustler when you’re a guy. A prostitute is a girl, or anything close. You are a hustler, honey. I am a prostitute.”

      “Oh.” Carlos still wasn’t exactly sure what Ricky was saying, but decided to let it go.

      “Why do you ask, Carlos?”

      “Because some man called me a prostitute while you were gone.”

      Ricky laughed. “I haven’t been called anything that nice in months.”

      Carlos smiled.

      “Honey, do you plan on spending a lot of time around here?”

      “I don’t know. It kinda scares me.”

      “Then, why did you come back here tonight?”

      “It’s better than staying at home,” Carlos answered without hesitation.

      “I thought so,” Ricky said softly.

      “Why do you keep coming back?” Carlos asked.

      “It’s better than staying at home,” Ricky answered without hesitation.

      “I thought so,” Carlos said softly.

      IV.

      It didn’t matter that he’d been on the streets for almost two months. To say that Carlos felt uneasy in his attire would be a gross understatement. But the promise of $200 had shocked him into agreeing. He would have dressed up like Mary Poppins for $200.

      A black leather mask that tied in the back covered his entire face, except for the holes for his eyes, nose, and mouth. Tight leather chaps hugged his smooth, muscular legs. He was wearing nothing else. His thick, hard cock stood out straight in front of him through the crotch in the chaps.

      He looked down at the man tied to the four-poster bed. The guy was on his knees on top of the mattress. His arms were tied to the footposts so that he was facing Carlos. His feet were tied to the headposts, but with enough slack to allow minimal movement.

      Carlos was a little scared. The man, who was absolutely no younger than forty and probably no older than ninety, had instructed Carlos on how he expected to be treated when he first picked him up on Geary Street. Carlos told the man he didn’t think he was big enough to play that part, but the man said that unless Carlos had a pair of socks stuffed in his jeans, then he was plenty big enough where it counted. He told Carlos not to hold back and, no matter how hard he would later plead, not to let up until Carlos had cum twice. About that he was adamant; the first time had to be all over his face, the second time with his cock still buried deep in the man’s ass. Carlos was glad his face was covered. He doubted this man wanted to see a scared young boy in front of him.

      Carlos cracked the cat-o-nine whip in front of the man’s face. The guy flinched.

      “This is what you get for looking at me while I’m naked, you slob,” Carlos said, a little timidly.

      “I’m sorry, Master. Please forgive me.”

      “Forgive you?” Carlos asked, and slapped the man softly across the face.

      “Carlos,” the man said, irritated, “you have to hit me harder or it won’t work. And don’t sound so afraid. You hate me, Carlos. Act like it.”

      “Shut up!” Carlos yelled as he slapped the man hard across the face. He wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible, and decided to play along. “You speak only when I tell you to. Is that clear?”

      “Yes, Master,” the man said excitedly as he wiggled his ass in the air.

      “Suck my dick,” Carlos growled, and moved his cock to within an inch of the man’s face. The man reached out with his tongue and licked the head of Carlos’ fat dick. Carlos shoved his hips forward and rammed the entire length of his long dick deep into the man’s throat. The old guy choked, and Carlos pulled out quickly and apologized.

      “Don’t apologize. Harder and meaner, Carlos. You hate me.”

      And suddenly he did. He no longer felt sorry for the old man. He hated this man who wanted him to do strange things and he hated being dressed in these weird costumes. He slapped the guy very hard three times across the face again, causing the man’s head to turn and a look of shocked delight to take over his face.

      “I said shut up. Open your mouth.”

      The man had a hungry look in his eyes, and opened his mouth wide to accommodate Carlos’ thick uncut cock. Carlos laid the heavy dick on the tip of the man’s tongue and slowly began to slide it into his mouth. The guy tried to swallow more of Carlos’ dick than Carlos allowed, and was punished with another heavy slap across the face. This time Carlos’ cock was halfway inside the man’s mouth, and Carlos could feel his dick against the man’s cheek as he slapped him. The feeling made his cock throb even more with excitement.

      The bound man moaned loudly, and without warning Carlos slammed his big cock all the way down his throat. This time the guy did not choke, and Carlos felt the throat muscles tighten magically around his hot cock. He gasped with the surprise of how good it felt, and grabbed him by the hair, pulling the hot mouth onto his dick harder and faster. He saw the guy’s ass moving up and down as he was sucking Carlos, and slapped the heavy end of the whip against the fleshy part of the man’s ass. That drew another moan.

      “You want me to fuck your ass with this whip?” Carlos asked his servant.

      “Yes,” the man begged. “Oh, yes, please.”

      “Did I say you could stop sucking my dick?” Carlos asked roughly, and rammed his dick back down the tight throat. “Well, I’m not going to fuck you with this whip. It’s too small.”

      The man was sucking Carlos for all he was