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Across the alley Chapter 1 and Subsequent Chapters

Re: Across the Alley Chapter 26

I'm with Harry, more please. Another great chapter, Gary.
Vic
 
Across the Alley Chapter 27

Across the Alley Chapter 27
By
LaloGS

Fiction


Gil was glad to see me when I got there. We wasted little time, getting
down to business. He was really stressed out from his meeting at the
studio. His bosses hadn't liked what he had to report about his trip to New
York. He'd been sent, he said, to be the studio representative at a
property auction one of the big publishing houses had held on a new book by
a well known author. The price he'd been authorized to bid up to had not
quite been enough, and the book had gone to a rival studio for just a few
thousand dollars more.

His short sighted bosses were telling him he should have used his
initiative and gone on with the bidding until he'd won the rights to film
the book for them. He'd kept his mouth shut and taken the browbeating from
them, but he was stressed beyond belief when he got out of the conference
room.

When I rang the door bell to his apartment, he was already stripped and had
obviously been jacking off. He peeked through the window in the top of the
door, and saw it was me, before unlocking it to let me in. He immediately
locked it again, after me and then grabbed me by the wrist, and dragged me
into the bedroom.

"Sylvia," Whom I gathered was his wife. "Won't be home for another few
hours. I want to fuck you silly before then; if you don't mind." He was
talking a mile a minute, and I was having a little trouble getting my
clothes off with him trying to help me.

"I'll pay you for this, but I don't have the money on me right now. I
didn't go to the bank before I came home." He pushed me down on the bed,
and leaned over me and started licking my neck and down my back.

"I owe you at least this much for all the help you've given us since I met
you."

"Nonsense, I get paid for what I do, and you should get paid for what you
do. One of the first lessons you'll in Hollywood, is get the money up
front, or get it in writing."

"Well, I already learned the one about getting it up front and what do you
mean by get it in writing?"

"If you ever get offered something in the industry, just get the deal in
writing. I'm sure that after today the only reason I’m not jobless, is I have
a contract, and I would cost them more if they fired me than if they just
let me stay on and paid my salary."

"Sounds like you don't trust your bosses."

"Listen Davy. In this town, if their mouth is moving, and words are coming
out, they're lying. Just get yours up front. That's all I'm saying." He
went back to licking my buns, and I was beginning to get hard. I reached
between my legs, and felt his big cock throb in my fingers.

"You really need this; don't you?"

"Yeah. Sylvia doesn't put up with me wanting to fuck her ass, and I do
love a good tight hole. I think she must fuck anybody that asks; her cunt's
so loose and sloppy."

"But she's your wife."

"Yeah, but we have an agreement about sex with others. If we think it will
get us a step closer to our career goals, then it's all right."

"You mean you both fuck to get ahead?"

"Everybody does. Unfortunately for me, is I don't have enough power at the
studio to attract puss, and mostly, I end up having to suck dick, and take
it up the ol' wazoo myself. There's one famous actor, that fucks me
regularly, but to the world, he's as straight as a flagpole with ol' glory
flying from it. If the world knew he liked guys, his career would be the
thing that was fucked." He pulled some cream in a tube out of a drawer
beside the bed, and began lubing my hole.

"That reminds me, maybe you would like to meet this guy. He likes new boys
from time to time, and he's always asking me if I know anybody. I can tell
him up front you're hustling, and he'll pay well, because he's vain about
his fortune."

"Sounds all right." He put the head of his dick in my hole, and pushed
into me. I let my lungs spew the air they contained out with a long sigh,
and once he was in me, I relaxed and felt him start pumping his big dick in
and out of my hole with a slow regular motion. Somehow, it felt really
nice, and my dick thickened up and began spitting precum onto his sheets
every time his cock head raked across my prostate. I moaned a little in
pleasure, and he kissed my neck behind my ear.

"Like that babe," he whispered.

"Yeah, I do Gil. Fuck me good, I think I need it as much as you do." He
picked up speed a little, and soon had us both huffing and grunting with his
thrusts. I felt him start going over the edge, and then his big dick
started filling my hole with cream. I couldn't stop the inevitable, and
messed his sheets up but good with my own squirting cock juice.

"Shit," he said when he saw the gooey mess on the sheets. "I'll have to
take these down to get them washed."

"I'll take them for you. I've got to go pick up Michael's clothes anyway."

"Who is Michael." I explained briefly, while I dressed, and he stripped
the bed sheets off.

"Careful Davy, if he's into drugs, it could be a lot of trouble." I tied
my shoelaces, and then took the bundle of sheets from him and tucked them
under my arm.

"I think he wants out of the drugs, and needs some help."

"Yeah, they all say that, but few mean it. How old is this kid?"

"Don't know, a little older than me, maybe nineteen or twenty, but he looks
a lot younger, because he's so skinny and under developed. I like him for
some reason. I liked him the first time I saw him before we even met."

"No shit. Love at first sight?" I grinned at him.

"I'll bring these back to you when the Chinese woman gets them done." I
started for the door.

"Madam Wong?"

"Yeah, just down the street."

"I'll pick them up just tell her they're mine. I've got some other stuff
she's been working on." He let me out of the apartment, and still hadn't
put his clothes on. I figured he was going to take a bath when I left. He
had a dark stain on his softened dick that didn't smell like chocolate.

I paid for Michael's clothes, and explained about the sheets. The old
Chinese woman was pawing through them as I turned to leave her shop. As I
walked through the door, I heard her exclaim something in Chinese. I
glanced over my shoulder, and she was standing there with a disgusted look
on her face, holding her claw like hand up to her face with a wrinkled nose,
looking at the fresh cum dripping off her fingers.

In the apartment, Steve and Sally were still shut in their room. I peeked
in on Michael, and he was still sleeping in the tub. His skin had turned
pasty white, and had wrinkled like elephant hide. I stepped into the
bathroom, and put his clean clothes down on the hamper, and when I turned to
look at him, he was awake looking at me in silence. I sat on the edge of
the tub, and told him to get his hair wet, I was going to shampoo his long
beautiful hair for him. He slipped under the still soapless water, and
never shut his eyes. His hair floated around his handsome face, and he
blinked in the liquid and stared at me until I reached down and pulled him
up out of the water by his ear. He came up sputtering, ad rubbing his eyes.

"I poured the shampoo into his wet hair, and began massaging it through his
hair. Soon enough his head was a mass of soap suds. I told him to submerge
again and while he was under, I used my fingers to work all the suds out of
his hair. The water turned murky, with the soap and dirt that came off his
head. I took a wash rag off the bar, and picked up the cake of soap, and
lathered it up. His back felt bony under my hand as I scrubbed him clean.
By the time I told him to stand up so I could do his legs, he had a raging
hard-on that angled away from his pubes and stood to about eight inches.

I washed his cock and balls last, and rinsed him off with the rubber hose
attachment the previous tenant had used to wash his or her hair with. As
the last of the soap and dirt drained out of the tub, he stepped onto the
bath mat, and I began drying him off with a towel. He kept poking me with
his hard-on in various places, and when he was finally dry, it was pointed
right at my mouth. I looked up at him, and just opened up and let him slide
it into me. I loved the feel of his cock going into my throat, and when he
started to fuck my face, I was overwhelmed with pleasure. I knew there was
something special between us, and that we had found each other for a
purpose. He finished soon enough, and I swallowed his cum and savored the
flavor. It was the first that I hadn't found something distasteful about.

I led him to the bedroom, and we laid on the bed for a while, just looking
at each other. He finally raised up on an elbow, and looked down at me.
"I'm not going to lie to you Davy. You've been too nice to me already. I'm
a sick pup, and I'm goin' to have ta get well soon. I need a fix, or I'll
turn into Frankenstein which is scary shit for me and you too. Are you
goin' ta help me get straight or not? `Cause if you're not, I gotta go out
an hustle up some bread to fix me up."

"Michael," I took his hand in mine, and looked into his eyes in earnest.
"If I help you, will you also let me help you get off the drugs?"

"Why should I? I like the high. I'm not as depressed when I'm flyin'."

"I want you to stay with me Michael, but I don't think I want to be with
you if you're high all the time."

"What do you mean stay with you?"

"Just that. Be with me. I don't like bein' alone in the world, and my bud
Steve has hooked up with Sally, and now that they're together, I'm the odd
man out here. If you're with me, at least I won't have to sleep alone at
night."

"Shit Davy. I don't know what to say."

"Say you'll let me help you dump the drugs, and agree to stay with me."

"You know man, a druggie is always a druggie. It's a sickness."

"Sickness can be cured if you want it cured. It will give you your life
back."

"I'm a fuckin' hustler Davy. I fuck guys for a living."

"So do I."

"No shit? You don't look like the guys on the street here."

"That's because I just got here this morning from Kansas City. I came on
the train with my two friends. But, I'm really from Arizona. I ran away
from home a few days ago, because my folks found out I was queer, and didn't
want me around anymore. My friend Steve, who took up with Sally, is queer
too, I think, but maybe he's not completely, cause he seems to be only
interested in fucking Sally now."

"Could be he's bi."

"What's that?

"Jesus, you are dumb; aren't you?"

"I guess so. I'm pretty new to all this. What does it mean?"

"Some guy who is bi, with stick his dick in any hole available. Man or
woman. Same with a woman?" I thought about this for a moment.

"How does a woman fuck another woman? The ain't got a dick."

"With their tongues and sometimes a strap on."

"What's a strap on?"

"A dildo Jesus."

"What...."

"A plastic dick you dope." I tried to picture a plastic dick, and
couldn't. He paced around the room for a minute and then started pulling on
his clothes.

"I gotta go hustle some scratch to get fixed."

"I'll go with you. I can get you some medicine with what I've got on me."

"It ain't medicine. It's horse."

"Horse then, and you can get well, and show me the ropes on the street."

"Deal." He barged out of the bedroom, and ran smack into Steve and Sally,
both standing in the living room nude.

I introduced them to each other, and told Sally and Steve that we were
going out to hustle a little. They said they were going to clean up and go
out to eat Chinese food.

Michael and I left, and went looking for his connection. We found the guy
sitting in a burger joint on Santa Monica Boulevard. I squared Michael's
debt and paid for what he said was a nickel bag of the stuff. Michael took
the bag, and some works the dealer offered him and disappeared into the
toilet. He was gone about ten minutes, and when he finally came out, the
look in his eyes had changed, and he seemed subdued and languid as opposed
to when he'd left me sitting with the dealer in the booth. His wild
nervousness had disappeared, and he seemed a little more human to me when he
sat down in the booth again.

"Buy me another nickel," he said to me under his breath. "I'll pay you
back later."

"No way. I'm going to ask around about how to get you off this stuff. I
like you a lot Michael, but I like you better off the stuff even if you're
sick when you're not high."

"Come on then. I gotta hit the street and make some scratch." He slipped
out of the booth, and the dealer smirked at me as I scooted out and ran
after him. On the corner, Michael stopped and looked up and down the
street. The sun was beginning to set, and the passing cars had already
turned on their headlights. Michael pulled off his tee shirt, and stuck it
into his back pants pocket.

"It's like this kiddo. We don't work together see. I'll work this side,
you get over to the other side. You can watch me work, and do the same.
You're pretty. You'll hook up quick enough."

"What do I charge?"

"What you been gettin?"

"Fifty bucks a fuck, and twenty for a blow job."

"Shit. I don't fuck for less than a hundred, and suck dick for fifty. If
the trick wants to suck me I let him for twenty-five. Don't swallow no cum,
and make him wear a rubber if he fucks you. Lots a bugs goin' around here
in Hollywood." He turned to walk up the street a ways, then turned back to
me.

"Oh yeah," he said. "You see a big guy in a white cowboy hat in a light
green Cadillac convertible, don't get in the car with him. He's bad news,
and always hits on new boys. He's rough, and likes to hurt people."

"Thanks." He walked away from me again, and took up a spot leaning against
a brick wall half way down the street. I walked across the Boulevard, and
down the street until I stood opposite him. He had his thumbs hooked into
his front pockets. He glanced at me, and lifted one hand in a slight wave.
I pulled my shirt off like he'd done, and stuffed it into my rear pocket. I
leaned on a metal bar that protected a planter box from the street traffic.

Several cars slowed down as the drivers took looks at him. Finally, a car
pulled to a stop in front of me, and the driver leaned over to the passenger
window and motioned to me to come closer. I glanced at Michael across the
street, and he nodded at me. I wondered if he meant that the guy was cool,
or if he meant it was cool I had some interest.

I leaned down and looked into the car. The man was a middle aged white guy
with a moustache, wearing a suit. "You know this area kid?" I didn't know
what to say. I looked at him dumbly. I'm looking for a good time tonight.
You know anyplace where I can find a good time?"

"What kind of good time?" I leaned into the car window and stuck my head
inside.

"I want to get my dick taken care of, maybe get a little tail." I looked
like I was thinking it over.

"You got a place to go?"

"Yeah. I'm in town for a business meeting tomorrow, I got a hotel room.
You want ta party?"

"I wouldn't mind, but I'm workin'."

"Aren't we all?" He looked across the street at Michael, and I followed
his gaze. As we watched him, a car pulled up and Michael must have known
the driver, because he immediately jumped into the car and closed the door.

"Looks like they'll have a good time. you know him?" I nodded. "Well, if
you're working what's your scale?"

"My scale?"

"The charge?"

"For what?"

"Everything I guess. I don't get out as much as I'd like, so when I do get
the chance, I like to go all out."

"Well, you want a piece price, or an all night price?"

"What's all night run?" I'd never charged that way, and don't know what
possessed me to say it in the first place. I puzzled over it in my mind,
and finally thought I had a solution.

"I get a hundred an hour and I'll do anything you want for that, but you
pay up front."

"Jeez. A hundred an hour?"

"That's it. Take it or leave it."

"I'll take it for three hours. Get in." I opened the door and slipped
into the front seat. I held out my hand, and he looked at me with a pained
expression. "Can't it wait until we get to my hotel room?"

"No. I want to make sure you can pay, otherwise I can stay here and meet
somebody else. I have to make so much a night to make ends meet." He
counted out the three hundred bucks in smaller bills five, tens, and
twenties. I stuffed them into my pocket, and smiled at him.

"You got a pimp?" Something told me to say yes. He nodded, and put the
car in gear and pulled into the traffic.

End
 
Re: Across the Alley Chapter 27

Gary, each day seems to be better and better. I hope you keep it up. Am looking forward to tomorrow.

Vic
 
Across the Alley Chapter 28

Across the Alley Chapter 28
By
LaloGS

Fiction


The trick took me to his hotel room, which was more a two level motel built
around a courtyard with parking spaces off Sunset Boulevard. His room was
on the upper level, and before we got there, several whores who were working
the place, made comments about the dirty old man taking such a sweet young
boy into his room for perverted sexual purposes. They all wanted to join in
of course, but the Man who had told me his name was Mark, wasn't interested
in pussy, although I had my doubts all the hookers were women.

In the room, he opened his suitcase on the little rack provided for it, and
took out some soft ropes and several things wrapped in soft clothes. He
told me to strip, because he wanted to get his money's worth with me. I
complied, curious about the stuff he had taken out of the suitcase. He was
busy affixing thee ropes to the legs of the bed frame. They had loops at
the free end that he laid carefully on the stripped bed. Apparently, he had
stripped the bedclothes off before he went hunting for his pick-up.

When he was satisfied, he started taking his tie off, and was soon as naked
as I was, and sporting a big hard-on about eight or nine inches long. He
sat down on the end of the bed, and motioned me to come closer to him. He
took me in hand, and examined me all over carefully. He poked and prodded,
even opening my mouth and feeling of my teeth with his finger. He wet his
finger in my mouth, and told me to bend over and show him my butt. I put my
hands on my hips, and bent at the waist, putting my hole right into his
face. He stuck his nose in my crack and took a deep breath.

He put both his hands on my hips, and pulled me closer to his face, and
proceeded to lick my hole with his sloppy tongue. When he had me good and
wet, he used his finger to poke into me and feel around. He was grunting
quietly while he was doing this, and I looked between my legs and saw his
cock was oozing a string of precum, that dripped all the way to the floor in
a string. I reached through my legs, and caught it like a string of
spaghetti, and gathered it around my finger, breaking it off at its source,
and then sucked it off my finger. His cock flexed when I touched it and he
moaned a bit.

When he was satisfied with his examination of my body inside and out, he
laid back on the bed, right in the center. He told me I could sit in the
chair by the door while he fell asleep. "After I start snoring, I want you
to sneak up on me and tie me up with these ropes. Make them tight, but be
careful not to wake me up until I'm all tied up. I get violent if somebody
wakes me up." He closed his eyes, and I sat down in the chair and waited.
This was the weirdest scene I had ever been part of, and didn't know what to
make of it.



While I waited for him to start snoring, I peeked out the window after
lifting the corner of the curtain, and watched a whore take a john into a
room across the courtyard. She left the door standing open, and didn't
bother closing the curtains to the room either while they stripped off their
clothes. I watched as she dropped to her knees, in the doorway while the
john sat on the bed. She took him into her mouth, and he laid back on the
bed, and humped his hips at her face. After he came, she lifted his legs to
his chest, and from my distant vantage point, she appeared to produce a
pretty good sized dick out of her red panties, and just stuck it into the
john and fucked him hard for a few minutes. When it was over, she gathered
her things up and went into a room I figured was the bathroom and closed the
door. The john laid on the bed for a few more minutes, before he sat up and
pulled on his pants. He finished dressing and then just as Mark began to
snore lightly, the john stumbled out and down the stairs. He looked drunk
already, and I wondered if he'd be all right.

Mark was snoring soundly after a few minutes, and I began to do as he
asked, starting with his feet. I slipped the loops over his feet one at a
time, and tightened the slip knots down. When I finished slipping the knot
on his left hand, he suddenly tried to turn over. He tugged at the rope
that was holding him stationery, and then woke up with a start. I thought
it curious that his dick had not lost an ounce of tumescence during the
whole time I waited for him to fall asleep, and then it dawned on me that he
must not have been sleeping at all, and that it was just part of his scene.
He eyed me with the look of fear in his eyes, and let them follow me as I
moved around the room.

I walked over to the dresser where he had arranged all the cloth wrapped
packages he'd taken out of his suitcase. The first one I unwrapped, had
several small spring loaded clips that looked vaguely like alligator heads
when you opened their mouth with all the little teeth. He eyed them as I
examined them carefully wondering what he wanted me to do with them. I held
one up and squeezed it open and closed several times.

"Oh shit baby. You wouldn't put those on my nipples would you. They look
like they'd hurt something awful." He pushed a nipple up slightly, at me,
and looked down at the hard nob of his nib sticking up on his hairy chest.
I stepped over to him and clamped the first on the offered nipple.

"Oh shit baby. Oh shit." He offered the other nipple, and I clamped one
on it as well. "Uhhhooo." He started to sweat a little. His whole body
began to glisten with a sheen. I still had half a dozen little clamps in my
hand. When he got his breath under control again, he looked at me
pleadingly, and almost gagged out his next request in the form of a protest.

"Please don't put those on my balls baby they hurt too much." He then
spread his legs, and I leaned on the bed with my knees, and clipped the
first one onto his nut sack. He shivered, and his legs got stiff on either
side of me. He trembled for a minute before relaxing again. I clipped the
second one on his nut sack, and he let his held breath gush out of his
lungs, as I attached a third. He looked at me and I thought I could see a
tear in one corner of his eye. It obviously hurt, but it seemed to be what
he wanted. I took his thick cock in my hand, and lifted it up slightly and
stroked it a time or two. a drop of precum glistened at the tip, and I
licked it off. He moaned, and pulled away from me as far as he could. I
dropped his dick, and let it slap ageist his belly.

The fourth clip, I placed at the base of his cum tube where it disappeared
into his nut sack. He groaned and writhed a little. I lifted his balls
with my free hand, and clamped the last two to his skin under the fall of
his nuts. He sobbed lightly, and went stiff all over again. I stood and
went back to the dresser, and picked up a second wrapped package. It was
heavier that the first one by quite a bit. I opened it and found a lead
ball, the size of a large orange. To it, from a leather thong, was attached
a leather strap with several snap closures. I had no idea what to do with
it. Mark was laying with his eyes tightly closed, so I walked over to him
and laid the led ball on his stomach. His eyes opened instantly, and he
looked at me out of fevered looking eyes, and licked his lips clear of the
sweat that had run down onto them when he raised his head.

"Oh god baby, don't put that on my balls again? The last time you used the
tightest snap, and I thought my nuts would fall off." He laid back down,
and sobbed, closing his eyes, muttering the words please baby, please,
several times. I laid the lead ball on the bed, and gathered his scrotum in
the leather strap with snaps. I struggled for a moment with the last set of
snaps, but they finally clicked closed, and he moaned loudly again. I left
the ball on the bed, and got up to examine the next package on the dresser.

He moaned, and I looked back at him, and saw he was trying to use his thigh
to push the lead ball. He saw me watching him, and whispered that he hoped
I wouldn't let it roll off the bed and jerk his balls hard, because it hurt
too much to endure. I figured it would hurt, but I also figured that it was
what he wanted since he'd been telling me what to do with everything I found
in the packages by begging me not to do it. I stepped over to the bed, and
with a flip, pushed the ball off the edge. He screamed in agony, and the
thong connecting his balls to the lead ball jerked tight. His balls were
rapidly turning bright purplish red from the pressure the device placed on
him. He was breathing in gasps, and moaning at the same time.

I turned back to the dresser, and extracted a large fake cock. It seemed
to be made out of some kind of soft plastic, and looked like a giant version
of the real thing. I guessed this was a dildo Michael had told me about.
With it was a tube of lube oil, and I used that to squirt over the bat thick
piece of plastic. He had calmed down again, and his breathing had returned
to a semblance of normalcy. I stood between his legs again, and put the
head of the giant cock to the lips of his asshole. He flexed himself, and
his hole relaxed and opened slightly for it to come in. I pushed it in a
little, and then holding it by the big plastic nuts, one in each fist, I
fucked it in and out of him until it was buried as deep as it would go. He
was pouring sweat by the time I finished this and stood up again. I think
he had passed out, because he was breathing hard, but there was something
different that made me think he wasn't aware anymore.

It worried me for a moment, but then he moaned and rolled his head from
side to side and took a deep breath. His cock was still rigid on his belly,
and a large pool of precum had gathered under its head. I licked it off,
and then cleaned his oozing piss slit with my tongue. The next package on
the dresser, turned out to be a mask of some sort. It was made of black
leather, and where the mouth and eyes were, it had zippers instead. It
fitted over his head, and zippered closed tightly down the backside. I
slipped it on him, and zippered it closed. He was having trouble breathing,
and I noticed the nose seemed to have no openings for air. I unzipped his
left eye, and could see it was staring at me terrified. I unzipped his
right eye, and he looked like he'd seen the devil. I unzipped his mouth,
and his tongue snaked out and licked my hand before I could pull away.

"Let me suck you baby," he whispered in a hiss. "Get up on me and shove
your cock into my mouth. Fuck me baby. Fuck me."

I climbed over his face, and putting my knees on his shoulders, I shoved my
hard-on into his mouth and started fucking. I needed to get off, and he
wanted me to do it hard. I didn't take long, to feel my nuts ready to blast
off, and just as I did, something hot and wet splashed across my back. I
groaned and emptied my nuts into him and felt slash after slash of his cum
land on my back and butt. He was moaning when I pulled out of his mouth and
climbed off him. I sat on the edge of the bed, and wondered what we would
do for the next hour that was left of the time he'd paid for. I looked at
him, and saw he had actually gone to sleep. I decided to take a shower and
clean his spunk off my back.

By the time I got out of the shower, he was awake, but lying quietly. I
asked him if he wanted me to turn him loose, but he shook his head no. He
had resumed his hard-on, and every once in a while his tongue would lick out
of the zippered opening of his mask. Finally, His time almost up, I started
to get dressed. He turned his head and watched me silently. When I was
finished tying my shoes, I sat up and asked if he wanted anything else.

"Untie my right hand baby. Then you can go." I did as he asked, and stood
to leave.

"You're a good boy, baby." He leaned up on his right elbow. "Hand me my
billfold before you go. I want to give you a tip." I fished in his pants
pocket, and handed him his wallet. He opened it with his free hand, and
pulled a fifty dollar bill out. "Take this. And thanks for a great time."
I took the bill from his hand, and leaned over to give him a kiss on his
leather covered cheek.

Outside, The night air smelled of frying food and some heady floral odor.
I figured I'd had a good night, and was a little hungry. I headed back down
to Santa Monica Boulevard, and the diner where we'd met Michael's dealer. I
half hoped I'd see Michael there, but also dreaded what it would mean if I
did. After all, he probably had money in his jeans by now as well. I
peeked in through the windows of the diner, and could see the dealer sitting
with two people talking. The two shabby looking people looked dirty and
sick. The woman seemed to be begging the dealer for something, and he kept
shaking his head no. I looked around the street, and saw several young guys
standing around like I'd done earlier, but Michael was not among them.

In the diner, I ordered a burger and fries and a large Coke. I was halfway
through it when Sally and Steve strolled in hand in hand. "Hey Squirt,"
Steve shouted when he saw me.

"Don't call me squirt Steve. I have a name, or did you forget it. I felt
a little pissed at him, but couldn't put my finger on why. He and Sally
scooted into the booth opposite me, and pulled the menus stuffed behind the
juke box music selector. The waitress took their orders, and they sat there
looking at me.

"What?" I said with a mouth full of fries.

"Just wondering if you've been working?" Steve took the sugar shaker off
the table and poured a spoonful in the palm of his hand. He licked it with
his tongue, and swallowed after chewing the gritty stuff for a minute.

"Yeah. I have?"

"How's business?"

"Pretty good so far." I took another bite of my burger.

"We've been talking about how we can get started here."

"Just go stand on the corner, and make sure you get the bread up front." I
laughed at myself. One trick, and I was already giving advice. "I made
Three hundred and fifty for three hour's work tonight.

"Fuck," Steve said. "How many tricks?"

"Just one. I don't think he was normal though. Michael told me he gets a
hundred for a fuck and seventy-five for a blow, or lets the guy blow him for
fifty. That's probably closer to the truth. He also said you should always
make the guy wear a rubber if he fucks you because there's a lot of disease
here in Hollywood."

"Sounds reasonable. We'd better buy a few." Sally took a sip of water the
waitress had brought to the booth. I looked at her, and started to ask if
she'd ever hooked before, but thought better of it. It was none of my
business.

"After I finish eating, I'm going to run my money home, and then hit the
street again. I don't want to get robbed, you know."

"That sounds like a good idea too." Steve, watched the waitress head
toward the booth with their order. I popped my last bite of burger into my
mouth and glanced out the window just in time to see Michael step out of a
black sedan that had pulled briefly to the curb. The door of the car
slammed shut as the car sped away again. Michael stood there, looking thin,
tired and a little hunched over as he looked around at the street activity.
He saw me in the window, and waved his hand slightly, and took one more
searching look at the street before shrugging and came into the diner.

He asked the manager for the key to the toilet, and apparently placed an
order. He took the key, and walked past where we were sitting without
speaking, headed for the toilet. I looked at the door to the men's room and
when he finally emerged, he looked a little better. I wondered if he'd just
shot up. He tripped back to where we were sitting, and slid in next to me.

"How did you like Mark?" He looked at me with a smirk on his face.

"You know him?"

"Everybody knows him. He won't bother you again. He only likes a guy
once, after that, you're history. He'd rather do without than to repeat
himself." I looked at his eyes, and saw that strange look in them I'd seen
earlier after he'd fixed himself.

"Hey Guys, I've asked Michael to live with us. He doesn't have a place,
and needs a place to sleep. I figure if we split the cost of the apartment
four ways, it won't cost us much will it?" Steve nodded at me, but I could
tell from the way he looked at me he didn't much care for the idea of
Michael joining us.

"Where's he gonna sleep?"

"With me." I said. "I like him."

"What?" Steve must have realized what I was getting at, and didn't seem to
like it at all. I decided to rub his nose in Sally.

"I thought you and me were buds Steve, but the first girl that will hop in
the sack with you, and you turn all straight on me. I mean what's that
about?"

"I love Sally. So it's none of your business Squirt."

"That's exactly what I said. None of my business; and if you call me
squirt one more time, I'm gonna pop you in the nose." I balled my fist up
on the table top for emphasis.

"Boys, Sally interrupted our spat. "There's no call to get mad at each
other. I know what I stepped into the middle of here. I had no intention
of separating the two of you. If you need to get with each other form time
to time, then do it. I might even like to join if if you'll let me."
Michael shot her a glance across the table.

"You ever gone to bed with a girl Michael?" Sally looked at him over her
malt as she sucked through the straw.

"Not interested." Michael shook his head, and looked directly into her
eyes without blinking.

"Good," Steve said, "Because I wouldn't want just every Tom, Dick, and
Harry fuckin' my girl."

"I thought you was goin' out on the street?" I glanced from Sally to Steve
and back again.

"We are, but we've decided to work as a team." Michael snorted. We all
looked at him, as he seemed to choke back laughter.

"Shit," he finally managed to say. "I've been on these streets for three
years now, and I've never seen a tag team like that. There's two types of
tricks around here. The straight ones fuck the whores, and the gay ones
fuck the hustlers. I ain't never even heard of a bi trick asking for a
threesome of both types." He laughed under his breath again.

"What's a bi trick?" Steve looked at him curiously.

"You know," he said. "Somebody that swings both ways. Could be a man or a
woman. I've had women ask me to go out with them, but it's not my thing. I
always refer them to one of my straight friends who hustles."

"You mean there's guys that hustle gay men even though their straight?"
Steve's mouth was hanging open, stopped in mid chew.

"Shit yeh. I've seen it all, except what you two are talkin' about. But
who am I to talk. That might be just what's been missin' in Hollywood.

End
 
Re: Across the Alley Chapter 28

Anther good one Gary. Looking forward to tomorrow.
 
Re: Across the Alley Chapter 25

This is one hell of an interesting story. I love it.
 
Across the Alley Chapter 29

Across the Alley Chapter 29
By
LaloGS

Fiction


As the night wore on, Michael made connections with three more men. I
turned down several, before I took up a booth in the cafe and waited for the
night to be over. Steve and Sally paraded up and down the street looking
hopefully at the slowly cruising drivers, but none stopped. They spent the
night like the young lovers they were strolling and talking about the
future. I realized after my forth or fifth cup of coffee, that Michael and
I would be in their way. I began to lay some plans of my own.

The first realization was that I wanted to be with Michael. He was seven
years my senior, but I liked him like I'd liked nobody else I'd ever known
before. I even fantasized I might be in love. I knew instinctively I had
to keep it to myself, but none-the-less, the feeling was there. About
midnight, Sally and Steve came into the diner and sat down with me. They
ordered Cokes and fries, and sat mooning at each other. I was shredding a
napkin into tiny pieces, and then rolling each piece into a tiny pellet. I
had a goodly pile in front of me when Sally noticed it.

"Something bothering you Davy?"

"Nah." I saw she was looking at the pile of paper. I swept it off the
table into my palm and dumped it on the floor under the table.

"What's up Squirt?" Steve leaned over the table and I reached up and
grabbed his nose between my thumb and forefinger.
"OUCH! Whddafukdeuedoin?" He sounded like he had a severe head cold. I
grinned at him, feeling in control for once since we had run away from home.

"I told you not to call me Squirt again; didn't I?" I pulled on his nose,
and made him nod in agreement. "Didn't I?" I let go of him, and his hands
immediately went to his red and swelling nose.

"Shit man. That hurts.

"Better that than a punch which might have broken it. My name is David,
Steve. Call me that, or suffer the consequences." I pulled another napkin
out of the dispenser and began shredding it into long thin strips.

"Come on Davy," Sally put her hand on my arm. "What's bothering you?" I
looked at her, and then at Steve, still poking tenderly at his reddened nose
with his fingers.

"I think I need to move on."

"What? Why?" Sally looked shocked. "We ain't been here but a day now,
and you want us to move on already?"

"I didn't say we Sally. I said I need to move on."

"Just what the fuck does that mean Squ...I mean Davy?" Steve's eyes got
larger when he realized he'd almost called me Squirt again. His hand went
to cover his nose just in case. I let it pass.

"I've been sitting here since nine thirty thinking about things. Michael
has been out there hustling all night, and I'm almost positive he's spent
most of what he's earned to buy dope. He's really stoned now. I saw him
get into a car a few minutes ago, and he couldn't stand without weaving on
his feet."

"Yeah? So he's a hop head." Steve sounded disgusted.

"Yeah he is, but he doesn't have anyone to care for him."

"What are you getting at," Sally asked.

"I think I need to get him out of Los Angeles. He knows too many pushers
here. When he's stoned, he goes a little crazy for the dope. If I can get
him to go somewhere with me where he doesn't know any pushers, maybe I can
get him off the horse."

"Why?" Sally looked at me like I was crazy. "How many hop heads have you
known before Davy?"

"None. I guess."

"Then how do you know he's going to want to go with you? And, where will
you go?" I shrugged, unable to think of anything to say.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, until the waitress stopped by and told
us we had to order something more if we wanted to stay any longer. I
ordered another coffee, and a slice of chocolate pie. Sally and Steve asked
to see the menu again, not having eaten much of their fries which were now
cold and had pockets of hardened grease pooled on their surfaces. Sally
handed the plastic baskets to the waitress to take away when she went for
the menus.

I looked out the window and saw Michael staggering up the street. He had
blood on his white tee shirt, and looked disoriented. I slipped out of the
booth and without speaking, and pushed through the door just as he was
trying to decide what to do next. He'd been hit with something that had
left a cut on his cheek, and obviously had had a bloody nose from the blow.
His eyes were seriously disoriented, and he looked vulnerable and lost. I
put my arm around him, and he jerked away, not really recognizing me at
first.

"It's me Michael. Davy. Remember?" He leaned back, gripping my shoulder
to steady himself, as he swayed on his unsteady legs. His eyes seemed to
focus on my face for a moment, and he grinned slightly, then winced in pain.

"Davy. Man am I glad to see you."

"What happened?"

"I don't know really. Some trick probably beat me up."

"Did he rob you?" I pulled his arm over my shoulder, and helped him limp
into the diner. The waitress saw us, and yelled at us to get out, but I
ignored her. She screamed something through the kitchen pass through, and
the beefy looking cook, burst through the swinging door brandishing a very
large baseball bat.

"Get him the fuck outta here asshole." The cook moved to bar our advance
into the room. He let the bat come to point threateningly at my chest.
"You don't go; I'll give you some `a what he got faggot." I stared at him,
anger tearing my eyes.

"Come on Davy. Let's get out of here." Michael tried to turn, but his
knees buckled, and he collapsed, pulling me down with him. The cook kicked
me in the small of the back, and hit the floor beside my head with the bat.

"Leave them alone," Sally screamed, and was standing suddenly between the
cook and the two of us on the floor. The cook blustered and waved the bat
around. Steve was there struggling to get us up of the floor.

Outside, with Michael supported between us, we looked first for a cab, but
none would stop. There was nothing left to do but shamble home as best we
could. The five block struggle left all of us exhausted. Steve helped me
get him stripped and seated on the toilet. I wet a wash cloth under the hot
tap, and started cleaning him up. The cut on his cheek, wasn't as bad as it
looked once the crusted blood was washed away. When hit was cleaned, I
kissed it lightly, and painted it with Mercurochrome, and put a band aid over
it. He looked up at me briefly, and then let his eyes close.

I rinsed the cloth, and then began to clean him up all over his body. He
had the beginning of a large bruise developing over his left kidney, and an
abrasion that had the shape of a shoe heel. He was trembling slightly, and
I helped him to bed. He crawled into the clean sheets, and snuggled into
the warmth of the light blanket. I stripped off, and climbed into bed with
him, and spooned into his backside giving him my body warmth to help with
his trembling. Even though he was seven years my senior, we were the same
height, but his thin frame was skeletal compared to mine. His body was
crying out for help. I wanted to give it to him if I could.

He was drifting off to sleep, and I talked to him in whispers, trying out
my ideas for us. He never answered, and I wasn't positive that he heard me
at all, but I talked through the whole plan that had developed in my brain
while I sat alone in the diner. The night grew darker as the moon set, and
then in what seemed like seconds, the mocking birds were singing outside the
window. The heady fragrance of the night blooming Jasmine outside the
window, flooded my senses, and I finally drifted off to sleep.

It was broad daylight when I awoke in an empty bed, and a Mexican gardener
was raking leaves from under my window, singing softly to himself in Spanish
as he worked. I opened my eyes, and sat up, putting my hand on my morning
hard-on. I slipped off the bed, and went to the toilet. The door to Steve
and Sally's room was open, and I could see their sleeping forms lumpy under
the covers where they were intertwined. I peed, and splashed some water in
my face to help me wake up. Back in the bedroom, I pulled on my Levis and
padded into the living room looking for Michael. I found him in the
kitchen, eating dry cereal out of a bowl with a fork.

"Want some milk with that?" He looked up when I spoke, and I winced. His
face was swollen and purplish blue with a massive bruise. "Shit Michael."

"Yeah. Shit," he said between clinched teeth. "I can't work lookin' like
this."

"Well, don't worry about it. You can coast on me until you get back in
shape." I started making coffee, and while it was perking, I stepped out
the side door, and collected a dozen oranges off the tree. I sliced them
and using the glass juicer, squeezed the halves for the juice. I poured him
a glass, and got the milk out. I poured some on his cereal, and set the
container on the table. I got two mugs out of the cabinet, and put them on
the table, as the coffee began to perk. I poured myself a bowl of cereal,
and then spooned several helpings of sugar onto it before I drenched it in
milk. I retrieved the coffee off the stove, and poured us both mugs full,
and set the pot down on the hot pad on the table for that purpose.

We ate in silence for a while, and after Michael had finished his cereal,
he sat back and lifted the mug to his lips. He winced at first, but blew
across the hot liquid, and sipped. He looked at me across the rim of the
mug, and tried to smile. His lips twisted in a grimace of pain. "Fuck," he
whispered. "It even hurts to smile."

"Don't smile then." I swallowed the last of my juice, and set the glass
down.

"Did you mean what you said last night?" He sipped again and set his mug
down.

"Which part?"

"When we were going to sleep."

"you heard that?"

"Sort of."

"Which part of it are you asking about?"

"That you...um..."

"Love you?" His eyes locked onto mine, and I could see a mixtures of
emotions play in them before he looked down at his coffee mug again.

"Yeah," he whispered again.

"I think I do."

"We just met." He glanced at me again.

"Does it make a difference?" I reached across and put my hand over his.

"I don't know." He turned his hand over under mine, and we squeezed our
fingers together.

"I don't either. But I do know this...I don't have anything but my body to
sell, and you don't either. But the difference is, you have a parasite
eating you up from inside out. If you can't get a handle on it, you'll be
dead before too long. When I thought it all through last night, I realized
that if you died, I'd be heartbroken. I guess you could call that a kind of
love." He nodded at me, and squeezed my hand again.

"You know I'm gonna be sick if I don't get my fix." His eyes were suddenly
afraid.

"Yeah, I know that, but I think if we work together, we can get you through
it." He looked at me for a long moment.

"You know Davy, I'm a user. I'll most likely use you for what I can get,
and then dump you like a hot potato when you don't have anything else to
give me."

"I'll take that chance Michael. I see something more in you than you do in
yourself."

"What do you see?"

"I see a decent guy that got off on the wrong foot, and maybe ran with the
wrong crowd. I think that underneath the drugs, that guy still exists, and
just needs someone to believe in him to make a comeback."

"You might be right. I don't much care for the me I've become. I dream
about when I was a kid, and how happy I was then."

"What happened?"

"My dad abandoned us, and my mother started hookin' to support us. We wus
just white trash, but we loved each other. She got herself hooked on skag,
and things got bad between us. I hated what it did to her. When she was
sick, she couldn't hook, and there were long periods when we starved."

"Is that how you got started?"

"What, hustlin'?"

"I guess."

"Yeah. I was hungry, and we didn't have any money to buy food with, and
she was sick and couldn't make any. Some guy knocked on the door one
evening during that time, and I told him she was sick, he suggested that I
would do as far as he was concerned.

"I thought about it for a minute, and asked him what he'd pay and what did
he want to do. He give me five dollars, and took me out into the tool shed
in the back yard, and fucked the shit outa me for half the night. I thought
I wouldn't be able to sit down for a week, it hurt so much.

"I figured I could work out the problems for myself, and between the two of
us my mom and me could make enough to get by. We were living in this small
town in Georgia then, and I don't have any idea where she got her hands on
her fixes, but she did. The more money we made, the more money went into
her arm.

"One morning after I'd been out hustlin' all night, I got home, with a few
dollars in my pocket, and found her laying on the floor of the kitchen. She
wus dead from an overdose. I hiked into the police station, and told the
cops about it, and never went back to the tumble down old house.

"I hitched a ride to Dallas, Texas, and got myself arrested for hustlin' in
the Greyhound bus station. I think another hustler turned me in because I
was farming his territory. I didn't have enough money to go on, but after
a week in jail, and having to put out for free, they let me go and took me
out of town and put me out on the highway.

"The first ride was with a trucker haulin' a load of frozen beef to LA. I
rode the whole way with him, in exchange for blowing him about four times a
day. Once we got to town, I slipped away while he was turnin' over his
beef, and found my way to Hollywood. I asked a few fags I ran across down
town around Pershing Square, but that scene wasn't for me, because they were
all hooking for skag. I just wanted to avoid it if possible.

"I worked for a year, before I hooked up with a pimp. He was good for me
at first, and it took me off the street. I'd stay in his place, and he'd
get a call and send me out to do the business, and he kept me in good
clothes, and fed, but I wasn't makin' much for myself. I turned twenty-one,
and he threw a party for me at the Formosa Cafe, and I got really
drunk. I passed out, and when I woke up, I was sick. I must have thrown up
for hours.

Delmore, my pimp told me he could make me feel better, and I felt so bad, I
told him to give it to me. He shot me up for the first time, and I felt
like I was suddenly floating on clouds. He was right, I wasn't sick
anymore, just like that." He snapped his fingers.

"Well, I was hooked. He kept me for months high all the time, humping my
butt all over Hollywood. As long as he kept me high, I didn't give a fuck
that I wasn't gettin' a cent outa all my whorin' for Delmore.

"I got cut loose one night, when Delmore got wasted by his pusher over some
piece of shit business. I was back on the streets hooked on skag, and
gettin' sicker by the minute. That was a few months before I met you
yesterday. I been gettin' by from fix to fix since then. So last night,
made it clear to me that somethin's gotta change or I won't be around much
longer.

"So what you told me last night, sounds good. Where do you want to go?"

"I don't know. Do you have any ideas?"

"I've always wanted to see New York City."

"How do we get there?"

"Bus I guess."

"Then I'll check into tickets today."

"I had sixty dollars on me before that last trick beat me up last night. I
have to hit the street to get myself together before I can leave."

"So we'll hustle for a few days before we go, but you need to cut back on
the horse while we do what we've got to do. You promise?"

"It'll be hard, but I promise I'll do my damnedest."

"Deal?" I held out my hand to shake his, and he grabbed mine, and pumped
it hard.

"Deal." He tried to smile again, but his face twisted in pain.

"You're going to stay in the apartment until you heal some. I'll hit the
streets tonight." The door to Sally and Steve's bedroom opened, and Steve
came out, rubbing his eyes with the back of his fists.

I poured him a mug of coffee, and handed it to him. He sat down with us,
and looked at Michael's bruises. "Shit man, who ever you run across really
beat the crap outa you." Michael just nodded.

I told him briefly what our plans were, and he sipped his coffee, and
nodded his head from time to time. Sally came out tying her robe, and I got
her a mug of coffee. She sat down, and put her hand under Michael's chin
turning his face from side to side.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." she clucked.

End
 
Re: Across the Alley Chapter 29

Gary, it just keeps getting better. This one was great. I'm looking forward to tomorrow.
H&K
vic
 
Re: Across the Alley Chapter 29

Wonderful story Gary, Thanks
This really is the dark side of things
I do hope things work out for the both of them
More please
Hugs
Harry
 
Re: Across the Alley Chapter 26

Love this story. I'm addicted.
 
Re: Across the Alley Chapter 27

This does keep getting better.
Thanks
Ken
 
Re: Across the Alley Chapter 28

Yeah, wher.e are you takin' us?
 
Re: Across the Alley Chapter 29

This story is really cool. Can't wait for more. You have rally outdone youself.
Thanks
Ken
 
Across the Alley Chapter 30

Across the Alley Chapter 30
By
LaloGS

Fiction


I worked the dirty boulevard for a week, husbanding every dollar for our
trip. I spent only enough to buy dope for Michael to keep him from getting
sick. I also cut his fix gradually until by the end of the week, he was
getting about half of what he was used to getting. His body noticed the
difference, but all he could see was the cooking of the fix, and the
injection. His immediate response to being injected, was the same as when
he was taking a full hit of the shit. I kept it hidden from him when I was
out so he wouldn't find it and shoot up the whole stash of junk at once.
This process, had made him grumpy and withdrawn, but he stuck it out with
me.

Steve and Sally finally gave up trying to interest tricks in a three way
with the two of them, and had started making a little money every night.
Sally needed the apartment to take her johns to, so Steve hooked up with
tricks and usually did them in their cars, or was taken to a local motel for
sex. After a week, they had gathered a thousand dollars between them, and I
figured it would only get better. I was getting anxious to get on the road.
I liked Hollywood, and the money was easy, but I knew if I didn't get
Michael out of town soon, he'd get pulled back into the drugs as soon as he
felt well enough to start hustling again.

I told Steve and Sally that we would be leaving on Saturday. My thoughts
were we'd take a bus East, but I was worried that Michael would get sick in
front of people on the bus and tried to figure out what alternatives we had.
We talked about it a time or two, and were drawing blanks for solutions.
I was walking the street on the last Friday night, and noticed a car parked
on the corner with a sign in the window that it was for sale by the owner
for five hundred dollars, and a telephone number to call. When I got back
to the apartment, and Michael and I were winding down for the night, I
happened to mention that it would be nice if we could drive to New York, but
that I didn't know how to drive.

"Well, shit," Michael said. "I can drive. I learned when I was a kid from
a neighbor man who taught me in exchange for blow jobs."

"Let's go see the car in the morning to see if it would get us to New
York."

"Deal," he said. Neither of us got much sleep that night. The excitement
of the trip and the possibility of buying a car to drive East in style. But
all those thoughts and anxieties, didn't stop us from making it with each
other. There was something about Michael that just turned me on. I found
it hard to keep my hands off him, and from his reaction, he must have felt
something similar, because, he seemed to spend hours making my body sing
with his tongue, teaching me things about my erogenous zones that I never
knew existed. His mouth became my favorite erotic toy, and I loved feeling
him play with me using it. I also grew to love his fat cock sliding into me
again and again. He said he loved to fuck me, because it felt like he was
totally with me, and nothing stood between us when we made love.

As morning arrived with the first tentative bird calls, we both drifted in
and out of sleep. I heard the Mexican gardener singing softly as he went
about doing what ever he did. We laid in bed half asleep, and held each
other close while we drowsed. I heard Sally in the bathroom brushing her
teeth, and decided to get up.

We had gotten so used to each other, that I didn't think twice about going
into the Bathroom with her still nude, and had my morning piss. She brushed
away while I pissed, then reminded me to put the lid sown before she walked
out to through their bedroom and slipped into her robe to cover her
nakedness. She had a slim tight body, with firm breasts, and I suppose if
any girl could cause my bone to get hard, Sally would have been it. I
watched her limply as she made her way to the kitchen. Steve was already
out in the yard picking oranges.

"Get up sleepyhead," I shook Michael lightly. "Today’s the big day. We
need to go see about that car." He opened his eyes, and grinned at me. His
purple bruises had shaded off into muddy yellows and grays. In a day or two
the evidence of his beating would have vanished like Hollywood in our
rearview mirror. While he headed to the toilet, I pulled on my pants, and
went to the kitchen. Sally was just putting the coffee on to perk, and
Steve was slicing oranges. I got the squeezer out and started working on
juicing them.

Sally pulled some eggs and bacon out of the fridge, and started frying
breakfast. By the time Michael wandered into the room, she had the table
set and was pouring coffee into the mugs. I poured orange juice into four
glasses, and set them around in their places, and started handing Sally one
plate at a time so she could put four thick slices of bacon and a big
spoonful of scrambled eggs on each plate. The toaster was on the table with
a loaf of bread, and we each made our own as we wanted it.

The talk around the table was about how nice the weather had been of late,
and how wonderful the blooming oranges and lemons smelled in the yard.
Sally had never seen anything like the citrus trees before, and had
developed a deep love of the fresh fruit off the trees in winter. She had
found a tree in a neighboring apartment complex that had large green scaly
pear shaped fruit growing on it, and had pulled a few off. The Mexican
Gardener had told her they were very good, but had to be soft. They sat in
a row on the counter, and when she felt them with her fingers, she
discovered that one felt like it might be ripe.

When she sliced into the fruit, she was shocked that the interior was just
as green as the skin. There was a large egg shaped seed in the center, and
the soft flesh of the fruit had a musky odor. She took a thin slice
with the knife, and offered it to me. I took a bite, and made a face. I
expected a fruit like sweetness, but the flat buttery taste threw me.

"Well, it tastes like an old sock." I spit the fruit out into my hand.

"The gardener thinks it's something special." Sally cut another slice and
passed it across the table to Steve. He looked at it carefully before
laying it down on the side of his plate. Michael laughed.

"That's an Alligator pear. Some people call them Avocados. You can eat
them that way, but the Mexicans eat them chopped up with onions and chili
peppers and lime juice. They taste pretty good with corn tortillas fried
until they get hard. They call it Guakasomething."

"Well," Sally said. "We never had nothin' like that back home. I'll have
to get some chili peppers and try that Guaka stuff. Where can I get the
peppers and those tortillas?"

"There's a Mexican market down on Beverly Boulevard at Normandy." Michael
picked up half of the pear Sally had put on the table, and sprinkled it with
salt and a little pepper. He scooped out a spoonful and ate it with relish.
"I love `em."

After the breakfast dishes were washed, we all got dressed, and walked over
to the corner and used the pay phone to call the telephone number on the
sign in the car. The woman who was selling it agreed to meet us at the car
in a few minutes, so we hiked down to where it was parked and waited for the
woman to arrive. A little while later, a large black woman came toddling
down the street, and as she got closer, her smile spread wider across her
face.

"Hi," she said. "I'm Alice. You the ones wanta buy my car?"

"I do," I stepped out in front.

"Honey you don't look old enough to drive that thank away."

"I am, but I don’t know how yet. But he does." I pointed at Michael. "He knows how to drive."

"Do he have a driver's license?" She looked Michael up and down with wise
eyes.

"No I don't yet, but I'll get one. You need a car to drive to get a
license. Does this ol' thang run?"

"Honey it run like a rabbit, jus don't stop too good is all." She
chuckled. "Needs some brakes on it."

"How bad are they?"

"Well, you gotta pumpem up real good ever time you need to stop. If you
jus put the peddle to the floor, ain't nothin' gonna happen."

"Can we drive it around a little?" She looked at the bunch of us standing
there expectantly.

"Ain't none of you gots a license is they? Sheeit. I guess I gots to get
in and drive you `round if you gonna buy it off me." She unlocked the door,
and slid in behind the wheel and unlocked the passenger door. Sally, Steve,
and I climbed into the back seat, and Michael slid in next to Alice so he
could watch what she did with the brakes. Alice fired up the engine, and
popped the clutch and caused the car to backfire a time or two.

"This a good ol' car. Get you any where you want to go." She looked over
her shoulder, and when the traffic allowed, she pulled into the street. She
drove West on the Boulevard for a few blocks, and than turned right and went
up to Sunset. At sunset, we caught a stop light, and while the car stopped
with her pumping her foot like a banjo player, once we were stopped on the
slight hill, the car began to ease backward. Her pumping didn't seem to be
doing the trick, so she gunned the motor, and kept it racing until the light
changed. She headed back toward the street where she lived, and stopped the
car in front of her apartment house. She carefully angled the tires into
the curb, and killed the engine.

"There," she wheezed. "You gonna buy my car?"

"I'll give you a hundred for it in cash right now." She looked over the
seat back at me, and held out her hand. I counted the money out laying each
bill atop the last in her palm. When I reached the agreed upon sum, she
smiled, and patted my cheek, and climbed out with a heaving chest trying to
get her breath.

"It's a better flat land car than it is drivin' these hills." She grinned
back in through the open window. Michael had slipped behind the wheel, and
started the engine.

"Jus a minit boy," she started feeling around her ample bosom and then
extracted a piece of yellow paper. "This the title. You don't got one of
these, the police stop you, they might think it be stolen or somethin'. She
took out a pencil and licked the tip. "Now who de new owner." I had her
put Michael's name on the paper, and when she had signed it over to him, she
slapped the roof, and told us to have fun and remember to pump it hard if we
planned on stopping. She turned and waddled off up the street.

Michael drove us around for a while, until he and I decided it was time to
get our stuff together and hit the road. At the apartment, it just took us
a few minutes to pack our few things and load them into the car. Steve and
Sally stood on the sidewalk waving as we drove off toward our new destiny.
I waved from the passenger side until we turned the corner and couldn't see
them anymore. I felt a pang of sadness, but I knew things would get better
for Michael and me. We had New York to look forward to now, but we had to
get there.

Of course, neither of us knew how to get to the highway that would take us
out of town. We pulled into a Richfield gas station, and filled up the tank
with gas and checked the oil and water. It was a quart low on both and we
filled them as well. The young attendant, washed our windshield and tried
to tell us how to get to route 66 which would eventually take us out of
town. He didn't know the names of the streets, but by carefully noting his
directions we found ourselves back on Sunset Boulevard headed East. We
laughed when we saw that it was the highway to our escape and we'd have
never known.

The desert to the East was all ready hot, and we had to stop to buy
something to carry with us to drink. The little service station in a place
called San Bernardino, sold us a canvas bag which we were told to fill up
and hang on the front of the car so the air rushing around it would make it
cool to drink, and if the car over heated we could use the water to replace
what boiled out. Neither of us had any idea what he was talking about, but
followed his instructions anyway. He topped our oil and water off, and
filled the gas tank and sold us a five gallon can full of gas which he
insisted we would need to cross the desert to the next place we could buy
gas. The whole deal cost us four dollars and some change.

The high desert smelled clean and wonderful after the thick air of Los
Angeles. We took our time, and often pulled off the road to explore the
side roads. Most of them led to outlying ranches, but occasionally, they
led to some beautiful canyon or oasis in the desert. One of these roads,
appeared late in the afternoon, and we decided to take it to maybe find a
place to park for the night. We had some fruit to eat, but figured we could
sleep in the car to save money. The oasis we pulled up to at the end of the
road, sat in a basin at the entrance to a beautiful little canyon. A stream
of clear cool water splashed down the incline of the canyon, and leveled for
a brief run across the bedrock before dropping in a fall for about fifteen
feet into a clear deep pool.

Get two boys hot and tired, and give them a clear deep pool of water, and
you get skinny dipping. We set rocks behind the tires to keep the car from
rolling, and stripped off as quickly as we could and plunged in. The water
was cold on our hot skin but after a few minutes, our bodies got used to it,
and we swam and played invigorated and stimulated in every way.

Afterward, we laid on a flat rock above the pond, letting the waning sun to
dry our skin and hair. We lay there, eating bananas, and watching birds
come into the water to drink their last water for the day. Later, as the
sun was finally slipping below the lip of the rising mountain, a herd of
deer appeared out of the canyon, and began browsing on a field of rich grass
across the pool of water. They seemed to be aware of us, and occasionally
stood chewing their food and watching us intently for a few minutes before
returning to their grazing.

Michael, rolled over and looked at me laying beside him, and put his hand
on my naked stomach. He rubbed my skin lightly, and then leaned over to
kiss me. I opened my mouth, and accepted his tongue. That always made me
begin to get hard. He rolled over onto me, and I could feel he was getting
hard as well. We tussled and kissed for a while until both of us had raging
hard-ons, and were anxious to experience each other in deeper more
satisfying ways.

"Let's get in the back seat of the car." Michael stood up and pulled me to
my feet. His hard-on waving in front of his as he led me by my cock gripped
in his hand to the car. We climbed in the back seat, and he immediately
swallowed my cock to the pubes. He sucked me slowly and lovingly while I
lay back across the seat and raised up on my elbows and watched him work.
He occasionally looked up to see what effect his love making was having on
me. I put a hand in his damp hair, and rubbed his head while he sucked.

After he had me on the brink a time or two, and had pulled off to keep me
from coming, he got up and told me he wanted me inside him. Leaning over
the trunk of the car, I used spit to lube him up, and entered him slowly and
completely. He grunted as my balls slapped against his, and I began to slow
fuck him. He told me he wanted me to fuck him forever. I laughed and said
I didn't think I'd last that long in his tight ass. We humped and screwed
for several minutes, pausing several times to slow the climax, and when he
began to grunt and moan under my thrusts, I knew he wasn't going to be able
to hold off once more, and so I speeded my thrusts, and joined him as he
tightened his sphincter on my shaft, and began painting the trunk of the car
white. I flooded his channel with my own paint, and we lay there spooned
like that, still connected, until my cock softened and slipped from his ass
with a plop.

We walked back down to the pool, and cleaned up again. After dressing, we
ate another banana, and watched the last of the light fade out of the sky
and the stars begin to appear in their millions. We heard the deer suddenly
bolt off across the desert, and waited quietly watching for what had
frightened them. After a moment, without seeing it come to the water, a
large mountain lion was suddenly lapping water noisily at the edge not far
from where we sat. The big cat finished his drink, and looked directly at
us his bright eyes collecting the dimming light and reflecting it back. We
held our breath, and finally the cat sauntered off toward the canyon, and as
it had come, disappeared as if by magic right in front of our straining
eyes.

"We better go somewhere else to sleep tonight," Michael said. "He might
come back." We made our way back to the car in the starlight, and drove out
of the oasis by half a mile, and parked again. We climbed into the back
seat, and entwined ourselves together, and after a long kiss, we drifted off
to sleep.

The light in my eyes, was bright and blinding. I sat up, pushing Michael
off me, and waking him up at the same time. I held a hand up trying
unsuccessfully to see who was holding the flashlight in my eyes.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" The voice out of the dark behind
the blinding light, was deep and masculine. Michael sat up quickly, and
tried to shade his eyes.

"You think we got us a couple a queers Forny?" The voice hooked up an
octave at the end.

"Shore looks like it if you ast me." The second voice was less masculine,
but no less mysterious behind the light.

"Come on out a that car boys, and don't do nuthin' rash. We're cops." My
heart sank. I didn't like the way this was playing out.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath, and piled out of the car with my hands
up to show I wasn't armed. Michael was right behind me, and I knew he was
worried about the stash of his drug under the front seat.

End
 
Re: Across the Alley Chapter 30

An interesting twist. I knew something had to happen, things were going too smoothly. Thanks, Gary, I'm really enjoying this one.
H&K
Vic
 
Re: Across the Alley Chapter 30

Thanks Gary,.... What now??
Are the cops up for it? or is this going to turn nasty ....
Hugs
Harry
 
Re: Across the Alley Chapter 30

There has to be a twist in this story. If it went smoothly then we probably wouldn't be reading it. Great story.
 
Across the Alley Chapter 31

Across the Alley Chapter 31
By
LaloGS

Fiction


The gravel on the ground beside the car, cut into our bare feet, and both
of us stood in pain while the two cops searched the car with their
flashlights. Somehow they missed Michael's stash, and he started breathing
a little easier. I nudged him with my elbow, but neither of us spoke while
the search was in progress.

"How `bout the trunk?" The first cop shined his light at us.

"Ain't locked," Michael muttered. After they had pawed through our pitiful
belongings, they wanted to search us. I had rolled our money into a tube,
and had put it into my shoes with my socks covering it. Hopefully they
wouldn't discover it there.

We leaned against the car as ordered, and the two men pawed our bodies and
felt up between our legs, taking what was obviously more time than was
required to get the job done. When they were satisfied, we weren't going to
pull a gun and shoot them, one of them stepped to the rear of the car, and I
heard him unzip his pants in the soundless night, and take a long piss into
the dirt.

The one that stayed with us, glanced at his partner's back, and pawed his
own cock through his uniform. He either had to piss as well, or was
thinking something else. When the pissing cop returned to where we were, I
saw ha hadn't put his cock away, and his long shaft poked out of his
trousers stiff and with a glint of moisture in his piss slit.

"You think these boys know how to treat a policeman Forney?" He gripped
his stiffness in his fist, and stroked himself a few times. Forney was
grinning, his redneck teeth stained with chewing tobacco.

"I jest bet they do." He pulled his zipper down and hauled out his
stiffening rod. He was not as well hung as his partner, but he was nothing
to be laughed at either.

"What do you boys feel like tonight?" Michael surprised me by offering our
services without complaints.

"You kids any good a suckin' a feller off? My ol' lady don't suck worth a
shit. Fact is, a good shit feels better'n her sucking my dick any day."

"Shit," Forney muttered. "Ivy sucks you off? I can't get Noreen to even
touch my dick with her hand. Says she ain't got no idee where it's been."

"Well, she don't suck good, but after I whollop her a gud'n she'll do a
passable job, but she won't suck me `til I cum. You boys like to eat a
man's cum?" Michael nodded. Well, then get down and get to work. I need
to blow a wad, and I love to see a cock sucker swallow it."

"Me too," Forney put a hand on my shoulder, and pushed me down. "Now you
watch them teeth boy. Don't want ta have ta whollop you one for bitein' my
crank." I swallowed his shaft, and went to work. I figured the faster I
got him off, the faster they would leave us be.

Forney was so hot to trot, he was shooting in my throat and moaning about
it in no time at all. I wondered if he was that fast a cummer when he
fucked his wife Noreen. I bet she loved getting porked by Mister Speedy.

The other cop was a different story, and I could tell, he was getting into
Michael's mouth. He let Michael do the work for a while, but then tucked
his flashlight into his belt, and grabbed Michael's head. His hips started
pumping at his face, and he was soon controlling the action of the blow job.
Michael just relaxed and let it happen.

The big cop was riding some crest of a fantasy, and suddenly pulled his
glistening cock out of Michael's mouth. "Drop yer pants boy. I'm gonna
fuck you in the butt."

"Whaa?" Forney's mouth dropped open. "That's fag stuff Pard."

"I know it Forney, but I gotta need to feel a tight asshole wrapped around
my dick. That goddamn Ivy won't even let me stick a finger in her butt.
Say's it's nasty."

"Well it is nasty." Forney was obviously a little turned off by the
direction the scene had taken. Getting blow by a guy was one thing, but
fucking another guy in the ass was too faggy for his blood. He walked off
into the darkness, and I could hear him muttering under his breath. The big
cop never thought twice about it and plugged his thick cock into Michael's
hole with one shove.

Michael groaned with the intrusion, but didn't complain. The cop started
fucking him hard, hanging onto his hips with both hands. His utility belt
was clanking and rattling with each thrust of his hips, and it sounded
briefly like a horse race until he muttered something about it being too
tight, and blew his load into my lover's bethel. When he pulled his still
stiff cock out of Michael, it glistened with scum, and the rank smell of
anal sex filled the night air.

"Whew," The cop muttered. "That was special boy." He pulled out a white
hanky and started trying to clean his dick.

"Forney, bring me the water jug. I got shit on my dick."

"Serves you fuckin' right ya goddamn queer." He rummaged in their squad
car which was parked a few yards away, and then showed up in the light with
a gallon thermos jug. He poured a stream of water for his partner to catch
in his hanky, and then tilted the jug up and drank from the spout. The big
cop cleaned himself off, and tucked his now limp cock into his uniform and
zipped up.

"I knowed these boys was fags the minute I seen `em layin' like that in the
back seat a their car. You ought to get yerself a piece a that tail," he
nodded toward me, while he talked to Forney.

"I ain't gonna do none a that faggot stuff." Forney took the water jug
back to the patrol car. He climbed in and slammed the door. I heard him
crank the engine, and the motor turned over a few times before it caught and
roared to life.

"You boys be gone by first light. ya hear?" The big cop, threw his dirty
hanky on the ground, and swaggered over to the squad car. Forney was
backing up as the big cop slid into the seat and slammed the door. We stood
there watching their headlights move eerily through the sage brush and
boulders back toward the highway. Finally, Michael pulled his pants up and
girded his belt.

"To a stiff cock, any hole is a good place to get off in. Even a fuckin'
breeder dick will fuck a queer if it needs to shoot." I put my hand on his
shoulder, and pulled him close He seemed frail and tired after his ordeal,
and we hugged each other for a long moment.

"How you doin'?"

"I need a fix Davy. I feel a sick coming on." Without a word, I got out
his stash, and helped him cook a spoon of shit. He shot himself up, and
then before he went into a total nod, we crawled back into the rear seat,
and I held him while he drifted in his drug dream. By dawn, the sound of
birds coming into the pool to drink was so loud, neither of us could sleep
anymore, and the activities of the night had made us both hungry. We washed
up in the pool, and put our stuff in order from the mess the cops had left
it in, and Michael drove us out to the highway. A few miles on, we saw a
roadside diner, and pulled in to get something to eat.

The locals, mostly sitting at a long counter, watched us saunter in and
take a booth. They were the usual cowboys and other ranch hands but one
mechanic in his greasy coveralls. One or two booths held tourists, and we
fit right in. The waitress brought us coffee and told us the menu was on
the blackboard at the end of the counter. We ordered ham and eggs over
easy, and lots of toast and orange juice. We ate until I thought we'd pop,
and paid with a ten dollar bill which left a three dollar and change tip.
The waitress was sorry she hadn't paid more attention to us than she did,
but we had no complaints.

By early afternoon, we pulled into Flagstaff, Arizona and filled the tank
and added oil and water. We ate in a diner at the edge of town and then
drove on down the highway by a little after one. We pulled off to look at
the famous meteor crater, and marveled at the size of the hole in the ground
and how round and deep it was. There were several tourists parked in the
lot, and one or two of the men eyed us with what I now knew to be sex
hunger. I decide to make a few bucks, and went into the men's restroom and
took up a stall. Sure enough, there was a fine round hole cut through the
wall, right at dick height, and it wasn't long before the door opened, and a
dick came sliding through. I took a few slides on it with my mouth, and
then pulled off.

"I need twenty dollars to suck you Mister. I need money for gas and a
place to stay tonight." I sat back on the stool, and waited. the dick
pulled back out of the hole, and I heard the guy muttering under his breath.
After a moment, a twenty, folded lengthwise, slipped through the hole, and
fluttered to the floor. The dick still oozing and stiff, followed it
through the hole, and I swallowed it again.

"Hurry up cock sucker. My wife's waitin' in the car." I sucked him hard,
and after a few moments, he grunted and unloaded down my throat. By the
time he was headed out the door, a second cock was sliding through the hole.
He'd heard the money exchange, and had his twenty waiting. I had his nuts
churning their spunk out and down my throat in a few minutes, and he zipped
up and left. I waited for ten minutes, before the outside door opened
again, and bent low to look at the legs and shoes of the guy that had come
into the toilet. He appeared to be wearing boots, and his pants had a shiny
stripe up the side. I figured it was the ranger I'd seen explaining the
crater to the tourists. He fiddled around for a minute at the sinks, and
then strolled over to the stall next to mine.

He dropped his pants, and sat down on the stool. I leaned forward a
little, and could see his legs were out in front of him, and his pants and
underwear were down around his boot tops. I leaned forward a little more,
and could see he was slowly stroking a large bone in his lap. I got on my
knees and put my mouth next to the hole.

"I'll suck you off for twenty," I whispered.

"Shit," he muttered. "You'll suck me for nuthin' or I'll bust yer ass." I
put an eye to the hole, and looked up at him.

"Fuck," I thought to myself. "It's a fuckin' Highway Patrolman." I stuck
my tongue through the hole, and waved it around at him. He stood up, and
fed me his bone, and I did him good until he was thrusting and moaning his
load down my throat. When he finished, he hiked his pants up and left
without speaking again. I decided to get back to the car, where Michael was
sleeping. I saw the cop get back into his squad car, and back out of the
parking spot he'd pulled into. He saw me standing by the men's toilet when
he drove by, and tipped his Smokey the Bear hat to me as he went past me.

I told Michael when I woke him up, that I wanted to learn to drive. He
thought about it for a bit, and then told me to get into the car on the
driver's side. He instructed me in the art of backing out a few minutes
before I got up the nerve to actually put the car in gear and try it. The
first three times, I stalled the engine when I let my foot off the clutch
too fast, but I got the hang of it and the car backed smoothly out of our
parking slot.

"Now pull back in and don't forget to pump the brakes to stop, like Alice
told us." Michael watched me shift the gear, as the car began to roll
backward down the slight incline of the parking lot. "Whoa! Pump those
brakes Davy!" I tried, but killed the engine again. After several times, I
finally got us pulled back into the parking slot. I was exhausted.

"That's enough driving for today," I said, I'll have another lesson
tomorrow." Michael laughed, and Slid behind the wheel when I got out and
went around to the passenger side. The next section of out trip looked like
it would put us in Gallup, New Mexico in time for dinner, and maybe a bed in
a motel for the night. Neither one of us had gotten enough sleep the night
before thanks to our cop visitors.

The sun was setting in the West as we pulled into Gallup. The train tracks
that ran on the North side of the highway, held a train puffing and blowing
steam. The long train of cars were loaded with cattle and sheep, and the
smell was horrific. We stopped in a diner to eat, and took seats at the
counter as all the booths were filled. We both ordered hamburgers and fries
and I had a Vanilla Malt, and Michael order coffee. While we waited for the
food, we talked to two young guys sitting next to us, and found they were
headed West to Phoenix, from Kansas. They were spending the night at a
hotel down the street, which they said was cheap and nice.

Pearly, was the older of the two guys, but didn't seem to be in the know as
much as Steve, the other one was. Steve looked to be about half way between
my age and Michael's and Pearly might have been Michael's age of twenty-six.
They finished their food, and said they were going to pick up some beer
and asked us to come and join them in their room at the hotel if we checked
in there.

After they were gone, we talked about them, and Michael was of the opinion
that they were queer, and probably had been in prison at some point because
they both had prison type tattoos on their arms. The beer sounded good to
both of us, so after we ate, we drove down to the road to the hotel and
checked in. We asked the clerk if the room next to Steve and Pearly's was
available, because we knew them, and he gave it to us.

We went up and knocked on their door. When Pearly answered the door, he
was stark naked, and sporting a hard-on that Steve had obviously been
sucking when we knocked. It was glistening with saliva. Pearly grinned at
us broadly, and grabbed his thick cock. "Come on in boys. We's jus havin'
some cocksuckin fun. You want to join us?"

We followed him into the room, and saw Steve laying on the bed with his
stiff cock in the air and in hand, also glistening with spit. "Jus havin' a
little bit of sixty-nine suckin' if you want to have a go at it." Michael
and I looked at each other and shrugged at the same time. We started
stripping, while Pearly got us each a beer out of the ice they had it packed
in the bathtub. When he handed me mine, he dropped to his knees and
started sucking my stiffening dick. Michael took his beer to the bed, and
Steve started sucking his cock without asking.

I figured this was going to get interesting, and pushed Pearly off my dick
before I shot my load in his mouth. He got up, and we joined the other two
on the bed, and were soon embroiled in what would be normally called an
orgy. After several rest periods for beers between sucking and poking
fingers up assholes, we got down to serious fucking. It was my idea to try
something I'd had a fancy to try if I got the chance. I wanted to make a
chain of guys fucking guys as long as we could get. By the time we were all
hooked up, and humping like the steam locomotive across the road, I was in
lust in a big way. I had my cock up Steve's butt, and Michael was riding
mine like there was no tomorrow. Pearly was fucking Michael, and I had my
hand on Steve's cock, stroking him for dear life. We made it last as long
as we could, but after our fourth near collapse into blowing spunk
everywhere, we began to synchronize our thrusting and soon we were grunting
and moaning in unison. Steve tightened up and shot first, sending a splash
of cum across the room to splatter against the wall. His ring tightened
down on me, and mine did likewise to Michael, and before we knew what was
happening, our nuts were pouring out their sticky treasure into their
respective receptacles. Pearly didn't wait around either before filling
Michael with so much spooge, it was running down his legs.

Afterward, we laid around on the bed, and finished our beers. Pearly broke
out some dope, and we all got a little stoned. Eventually, Pearly dropped
off to sleep, and Michael and I got up and pulled on our clothes. We each
took another beer, and slipped out of their room and into ours. Michael
needed to fix himself, so while he did that, I showered, and then crawled
into bed beside him. He was already asleep, and snoring contentedly. I
wasn't far behind him.

End
 
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