Strangers

I got off the Greyhound bus around 12 noon; I was supposed to meet this guy whom I met online. Now I’m stranded in a strange city, but I’m the one whom decides to take the risk.  I’ve left Cleveland, Ohio to come to St. Louis, Missouri.  The guy never shows up; I use my last $145 to purchase the bus ticket. My cell phone was stolen or lost in transit from Cleveland, Ohio and I’ve been in this new city for almost six months now.  I’ve met a lot of cool people in the city, as I’m spending my time trying to find work so I can take care of myself; I do odd jobs to keep food in my stomach.  Finding work is kind of slow. I do a lot of landscaping, yard work to keep a few dollars in my pocket.  During the day, I’ll try really hard to find work; I’ve worked enough to keep food in my stomach, and I’ve worked enough to keep some kind of public transportation pass.  I’m 6’ 0”, 187lbs, 29 years old, masculine, toned body, a few tats, two earrings, goatee, deep, voice bruh, I’m clean shaven, and love to work hard. This particular day I’m finishing up a landscaping job that really didn’t pay much money, $20 to be exact. I finish the work, put all the tools back in the garage of this old, white man’s house, and I go to collect my payment.  When the older, white man came to the door to give me the payment, he acts a little hesitant before he come out to inspect my work; he hands me the twenty dollar bill, and heads back towards his house.

“You have a number, sonny?” the older, white man asks, before he creeps up the stairs towards his front door.

“No sir,” I respond to him.

With the screen door in his hand the older, white man looks back saying, “how am I going to get in touch with you when I need more landscaping work done?" “Oh, by the way sonny, good job.” I’m standing there with my mind racing. “I can check back every so often, how would you like that?” Pushing his door open, the older, white man waives his hand, nods his head, yes, as to say: “ok, do just that”; right before he steps into his house and shut the door, a whiff of whatever the old man is cooking fumes out of his house and is swirling around in the air. I didn’t have a clue as to what he was cooking smells like, I only know it smells good, and I am hungry.

I spend the rest of the time roaming around thinking about where can I earn some more money, and I spend a considerable amount of time wondering where I’ll spend the night, tonight and the nights to come, because from the clouds in the air, looks as if it’s going to rain.  The day begin to come to a close, the sun starts to set, I had gotten me a bite to eat earlier at the local 7-11, I had gotten a drink, too and I am headed to try to find me a place to sleep. As I’m roaming around trying to find a place to crash for the night and hoping it’s not going to be a lot of traffic, people walking back and forth, I bump into this guy. The guy is wearing fitted jeans, a rather tight, blue shirt which is showing the curves in his arms, he’s wearing some tennis shoes, and he has on a doo rag; I didn’t notice any tattoos. He looks to be about 140lbs, thin frame, maybe he’s 24 or 25 years old; I didn’t see any tats on his neck or hands; his ass is looking right in the jeans he’s wearing though. He’s fairly attractive, he does not look like a pretty boy, but he’s not ugly as fuck, either.

“Where are you on your way?” He asks.

“I’m actually new to the city, I’m not headed anywhere in specific.” I reply to his question, but I kept my distance to him, I didn’t know what was going on in his head.

Smelling the stale air of the city mixing with the smell of food from the nearby restaurants swirling around, I ask him: ‘you know where I can find a job?’ He sticks out his hand to give me daps, and he introduces himself to me. “I’m Solo,” he says, and he gives me daps, and he turns to walk in the same direction I’m walking. “You’re new here and you’ve not found a job?” he’s walking with me, and his steps are in sync with mine, and he’s talking to me, looking at the ground sometimes when he takes his steps. “Nah, I haven’t, I’ve been in the city for nearly six months, and I’ve not found steady employment; man I need a job.” I reiterated my concerns about employment out loud to him and as a re-enforcement towards myself to keep on the hunt. “I have a few dollars; I can spare $15, where are you heading?” He asks, again. “Nowhere in specific,” I respond to him, and I adjust the back pack I am carrying.

He looks up from his steps and asks me to follow him, and he’ll give me the $15. I’m thinking to myself: “I just made twenty dollars, I spent $9, this leaves me with $11; if he gives me $15 more dollars, I’ll have $26, and I mentally decided to follow this dude so I can try to get the $15 out of him." We walk a little bit; every now and then I’ll adjust my back pack I’m carrying. I’m walking a little behind him watching his ass cheeks flex in his jeans when he takes his steps; his ass is firm, and I can see the muscles in his back flexing and moving while he’s walking.  He begins to tell me about his situation; he’s telling me he’s unemployed, too. “Just recently my job laid me off,” he’s telling me as we’re walking to where ever we’re going. 

“Where are we going?” I ask, and I take a few steps faster to keep pace with him. “Right here and he points to this apartment building. The apartment has boards on the windows, the siding of the building is peeling off, and the grass has started to reach knee level. “Follow me, quick,” he says, and he reaches his hand and kind of pulls and pushes me along with the palm of his hand in the middle of my back. We both enter this dark, abandoned, apartment building, and we both get situated. Solo lights a candle, and to my surprise, the place is very clean, given the way the outside of the building looks. 

“You stay here or something?” I ask, inquiringly.

 “Yeah, sometimes, my dude threw me out after I lost my job, and I didn’t find another job fast enough for him,” he starts telling me, and in the process of talking, he slips a blunt out the little money pocket inside the front pocket of his jeans. “You smoke weed bruh?” He asks me. “Yeah, fire that shit up,” I respond to his question, and we smoke, get situated and start rapping about things. During the conversation I eventually told Solo my name’s Jiv’, short for Jivix. “That a cool name,” Solo will say every time he’ll hit the blunt, passing it to me. “Here Jiv’, take this shit bruh.” We’re smoking, he’s on a little mattress on the floor, and I’m sitting on the floor with my back on the wall with my back pack next to me. I’m really thinking about this $15 he’s supposedly taking me to make.

“What’s up with the $15?” I finally ask. “It’s right here”, and Solo goes into his pocket and flings the $10 and a $5 bill towards me. The money lands between my legs on the floor; I pick the money up and slip it into my socks.

“What’s this for?” Right when I say this, Solo crawls up towards me, and he begin to unbuckle my jeans. “I want to taste this dick,” Solo says; I hit the blunt until it is small and is gone out. The whole while Solo was undoing my belt, he finally has my boxers and jeans down to my knees; I’m sitting on the cold floor feeling the chills of the cold tile on my ass cheeks, and I’m inhaling the fumes of the blunt smoke lingering in the air of this abandoned apartment.   

“Smooop!” Solo places his mouth on my dick, and he starts going up and down on my dick with his mouth. ‘Smwwoooop!’ is the sounds his mouth is making on my dick as my dick begins to grow to its full 11 and half inches. “Let me get at this shit?” Solo spread my legs a little farther apart and places his entire shoulders between my legs, and he starts making love to my dick. “Uuummmmm-hhhuuummmm!” Solo is moaning as he’s sucking my dick. “Ooooooooohhhh-shit?” I yell out, and squeeze my ass cheeks together; my dick went deep down in this niggaz’ throat. “Ooooooo-shiiiiiit!” I’m feeling this niggaz’ warm, moist mouth on my shit. “Smwwooop!” “Smwwwoooop!” He starts picking up the pace on my dick. My stomach starts jumping, my ass cheeks begin to tighten as the floor tile starts getting warm from my body heat; when I’ll scoot my ass around allowing him to take this dick; I’ll feel a new chill on the floor when I move out of the spot my ass cheeks has warmed up already.  

“Smwoooop!” “Smwoooop!” “Smwooooop!” He sucking my dick, I’m feeling this head job like I’ve felt no other. He’s this masculine dude sucking the shit out of my dick. Thoughts are running through my head how most niggaz in this city act hard, thugged out so, it’s hard to know if any of them really get down, and then to know if they’ll pay to get down.

“Oooooo-hell!” I feel this niggaz’ warm mouth, and lost my train of thought, but at the same time I am crawling up the wall backwards with this niggaz’ lips on my dick, he was following me up the wall pulling on my dick with his lips and slurping it back in his mouth while he raises up on his knees.

“It’s coming, it’s coming,” I am trying to warn him, but he keeps his mouth on my dick, and my ass cheeks start closing together, and my ass hole starts puckering; he removes my dick out his mouth just in time, and I squirt what seems, like gallons of cum all over his face. The whole time I’m shooting this nutt on his face, my abs is jumping, my legs tighten, and I am breathing heavily. “Uuummmmm!” “Uuuuummmmmm!” He is on his knees allowing my nutt to pour on his face, and he is gripping my dick, smearing my dick around on his face. “Dayum this shit tastes good,” he tells me after all the nutt has drained on his face. The nutt on his face is glistening in the dimly lit room of the abandoned building.  I slide back down the wall and sit back down on the floor with my jeans and boxers still at my knees as my dick begins to soften and fall towards the floor, the floor has become cold again, but I adjust. We begin to clean up, and Solo pulls out this towel and a bottle of water he has behind an old, raggedy stand, he cleans his face and he comes over, then he cleans my dick off.

“You gon’ let me get this on a regular?” He asks while he has one of his hands on the shaft of my dick, he is wiping his spit off the shaft of my dick, and he is wiping the remainder of the cum off the tip of my dick. “Are you asking me to go with you?” I ask Solo. “Kind of, not really going with each other, I just want to fuck around with you from time to time, if that’s ok with you?” I didn’t give a definite answer; “let me think about it, ok?” I respond to Solo. “Yeah, my dude, take your time,” Solo got out from between my legs because he has finish cleaning my dick. After he’s cleaned himself, he pulls a bottle of mouthwash out of his book bag he has already in the place, he gurgle his mouth then he spits into a one liter, Pepsi bottle.

 I slip my boxers and jeans back on my ass, fix my belt, and I kind of lay the back of my head against the wall trying to catch my breath. “I’ve been here in this city nearly six months, and this is the first nutt I’ve busted since I’ve arrived in this city,” I’m thinking to myself.

“How you get your hustle on?” Solo asks out of nowhere, sitting down on the mat on the floor facing me. I tell him about the landscaping gigs, and I show him the grass patches on my knees. “I got a way where you can get paid, but it involves fucking for money.” Solo sit on the lil’ mat on the floor across from me. A dim flicker of light is hitting the side of his face from the candle as he explains what he does to earn money out on the male, whore stroll.

After Solo is finish explaining his routine; he crawls over towards me, he grabs my hand; “I want to do this fucking around thing for money, and I want to settle down, with you if possible?” Solo say! I still didn’t respond; but for some reason my heart is pounding in my chest and I’m sitting with my back on the wall not worried about anything.

“Come over here and lay with me?”  Solo asks as he gently pulls my hand towards him; I move off the wall onto the mat with him. He lay on his back, raises his ass off the mat, slipping off his boxers and jeans until they’re down to his knees; he strokes his dick a few strokes with me lying on my side facing him; he undo my jeans and boxers again, pulling them back down to my knees, and he rolls me on top of him.

“Smmmwwwaaaak!” He gives me a kiss on the mouth; I didn’t refuse so, I kissed him back, tasting and smelling the mouthwash that’s lingering on his breath, and a few seconds later Solo let out a big: ‘Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!” He was shooting off a nutt as his 12-inch, thin dick rubs between my stomach and his stomach. “That was hot, thanks,” Solo was saying as he slide from under me going back to the broken stand or whatever it is to clean himself off, and he wipes my stomach off again. After he’s wiped his cum off my stomach, he’s cleaning himself, I’m watching the muscles on his ass; his ass is so tight, one can bounce a dime off his ass checks. He pulls his boxers and jeans up then he comes and lay next to me, and I have already fixed my clothing on me. He lights another blunt, we smoke the blunt, and he’s telling me how he ended up staying in a vacant building, ‘my dude threw me out when I got laid off, and I didn’t find a job fast enough for him,’ Solo is telling me, the whole time I’m lying next to him, listening and smoking.  I never smell a bad odor on his body as I’m lying next to him.

“Yo name is Jiv’, correct?” Solo asks as he blows out the candle; the room fills with total darkness, and I feel this niggaz’ face burying in my neck with his hand wrapping around my back.  A few seconds later, a loud crack of thunder sounds and we both hear the sound of heavy rain pound against the side of the house.